#it also tried to claim that the reason we know shawn cares about him is only because of a few episodes???

[thegroundhogdidit]

the reason we know fandom wiki isn't accurate is because it straight up said that gus isn't just as weird as shawn, he just goes along with the antics. fuck right off. he's just as weird IF NOT WEIRDER than shawn. yes he's the "responsible one" but having a job isn't mutually exclusive with being batshit. gus is Weird and Strange and his idea of a good superhero is a guy who tap dances and throws sand in people's eyes

[someonefantastic]

Do These Tacos Taste Funny to You?

I had so much fun with the details at the beginning of this and I just love the idea of the four of them hanging out. If you want some ambiance while you listen to this, check out the video "You're in the bathroom at a club in 2007" on YouTube. I wrote the whole thing while listening to that on repeat lol. Summary: Juliet, Shawn, Gus, and Lassie are hanging out at a nightclub after a very long week. But sometimes unwinding can go a little too far. Warnings: alcohol, non consensual drug use, some suggestive content also on ao3 ___ The beat thumped low in her chest, music pulsating in her ears. Her and Shawn’s bodies swayed together, enjoying the intimacy that their closeness provided. She secretly suspected that was the whole reason why he had wanted her to come- not that she was complaining.

Usually, she wasn’t a fan of clubs, opting to instead spend her evenings off at a place like Tom Blair’s or at home. But Shawn and Gus had been raving about a new nightclub for weeks now, claiming that it would be the event of the century. Naturally, their persistence (and Shawn’s boyish charm) wore her down. Never wanting to leave her partner out- and knowing he had nothing else going on- she had in turn dragged Carlton along. She knew, deep down, he appreciated being included.

To be honest, she was having a really great time. It had been a long time since she went to a club for reasons other than being undercover or investigating a case and being able to just relax and enjoy herself was amazing.

Shawn’s hands rested low on her hips, chest pressed against her back and her hands were in his hair. It was clear that she was in charge, hips moving to the beat as she led their bodies in precise rhythm. Occasionally he would dip his head, using their position to whisper sweet nothings in her ear or press a kiss to her cheek.

She was loving it. It had been an extremely stressful week and, on top of her increased caseload, she had to deal with way too many disgruntled family members. Most notably was a man who was pissed they had arrested his brother for grand larceny. He had screamed and shouted threats for hours, preventing her from being able to get any actual work done. Way too many nights had been spent pouring over cases or lying awake thinking about all the things she had to do. She and Shawn had barely spent any time together lately so being able to unwind and dance with him was blissful.

She smiled as one hand swooped up her side, fingertips just barely touching the exposed skin below her halter top before gliding up over her arm to grab her hand. Once their fingers were joined, he spun her in one swift motion, bringing them chest to chest. Hooking her arms behind his head, she grinned, continuing to sway to the beat. He returned the look, fingers finding her hips again. Their cheeks were flushed and she was breathing heavily, whether, from the dancing or their close proximity, she wasn’t sure.

Taking advantage of their new position, she let her hands run down to his shoulders. Toying with the shirt collar, she admired his exposed chest, happy he had undone a few more buttons than usual. He squeezed her sides, causing her to jump and she laughed, catching his knowing look.

Leaning forward, she shivered as his breath ghosted over her ear, “If you keep staring at me like that we may have to find someplace to make out.”

She hummed, hand coming up to cup his cheek, “I wouldn’t mind that.”

“As tempting as that sounds- and believe me Jules it’s very tempting-” His voice had dropped low, and she briefly considered just dragging him out of there. “I think Lassie wouldn’t take well to being abandoned.” He nodded behind her and she turned to look, trying to stifle a laugh when she saw Carlton attempting to dance in his own lanky way.

She turned back and he shrugged, “Plus I think Gus has struck out with pretty much every girl here.”

Tilting her head, she pursed her lips, a small smile pulling at them. “So drink break?”

“Yeah,” He sighed, “But I promise I’ll get you back here before the night is over.” With a wink, he pulled away, making sure to grab her hand before walking off the dance floor.

After some maneuvering, the four of them gathered around a tall table near the bar. Gus and Shawn dubbed themselves “the official drink orderers” much to her amusement and Lassiter’s annoyance. Once they disappeared towards the bar, she adjusted her miniskirt taking a seat across from her partner. Lassiter fidgeted with the cufflinks of his shirt, looking very uncomfortable.

She leaned forward, sending him a soft smile. “Thank you for coming Carlton, I know this isn’t your scene.”

He shrugged, “I don’t mind. This has actually been kind of… enjoyable.”

Her smile burst into a grin as she sat back, absolutely thrilled by his admission. He rolled his eyes, “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

She laughed as Shawn and Gus approached, the former attempting to hold four drinks without spilling them and the latter carrying plates stacked precariously with food. “I thought you guys were just getting a snack?”

Gus raised an eyebrow, placing the food on the table before taking a seat. “We did.”

Lassiter rolled his eyes, snatching his Scotch from Shawn’s hands. He just smirked before placing a glass before her, “A wine and whisky cocktail for my lady.”

“Thanks, Shawn.”

“Do these tacos taste funny to you?” Gus spoke up with a frown, having barely taken a seat before digging into his food.

Shawn grabbed one off his plate and took a bite, eyes squinting as he chewed, “A little. That’s what you get for ordering tacos at a nightclub buddy.”

Gus glared, grabbing the half-eaten taco out of his hands while Shawn immediately started protesting Shaking her head, Juliet took a sip of her drink, watching as the two bickered. What a way to spend a night off.

She wouldn’t have it any other way. ___ Four plates of food and two drinks later, Shawn took a much-needed bathroom break. Exiting, he looked around in search of his best friend, ready to tell him about how cool the restrooms were when he caught sight of his beautiful girlfriend instead.

“Hey, babe!” Juliet greeted, sliding up next to him. She had a full drink in her hand- her third if he was counting- and he guessed she had just gone to the bar.

He grinned, “Hey yourself.”

“Wanna dance?”

“I’d love to but your hands seem full.”

She frowned, staring at her drink before throwing it back in a few quick gulps. He raised an eyebrow, “Wow.”

Grabbing his hand, she led them both out to the dance floor, talking the whole time. “I asked Lassiter to dance but he’s still grumpy because he had to miss seeing Marlowe due to working all day. If you ask me, he just needs to get some.”

Shawn nearly tripped over his own feet, “What!?”

She paused, turning towards him and beginning to dance. “Shawn please, don’t act like you don’t know what ‘get some’ means,” Her lips curved into a smirk, “Especially since you get some quite often.”

Shawn bopped his head, a flirty reply on his tongue but it died as he noticed her pupils were dilated. She had continued to talk, her voice was loud and fast and he found that he was having a hard time following her.

Eyebrows creasing, he grabbed her hand, and she trailed off, “Jules, are you feeling okay?”

She gave him a puzzled look, “Of course silly, never better. I feel like I could dance all night.” As if to emphasize her point, she pulled on his hand, bringing them closer together. This time as they danced, her movements were quick and jerky, practically bouncing up and down.

She talked the entire song, conversation drifting from the lyrics to their friends to her grocery list and then to his looks. Normally he wouldn’t mind the endless stream of compliments but his worry had grown past the point of being able to enjoy anything. She was acting so different, he knew alcohol caused her to let loose a little and become a bit more flirty but this wasn’t like that at all.

Just then a slower song started playing and she frowned, grabbing his hand to pull him off the dancefloor. “Let’s go see what Lassie and Gus are doing.”

Okay, something is definitely wrong. She rarely calls Lassie ‘Lassie,’ He thought as they approached their table where the two men were immersed in conversation.

“Hey, guys! I’m bored, anyone want to go for a run or hit the town or something?” Juliet bounced on her toes as she spoke, curled hair swishing around her shoulders.

Lassiter’s eyes darted from her to Shawn. Clearly, he picked up on the strange behavior too. “Spencer… what did you do?”

He put his hands up, “I swear I did nothing, I don’t know what happened.”

“Guys nothing is wrong,” She rolled her eyes, “I feel great! Actually, I’m going to get another drink.”

“Jules, I don’t know if that’s the best idea-” He tried calling but she had already disappeared into the crowd around the bar.

Lassiter sighed, standing up, “I’ll go get her. You” He shot a pointed look at Shawn, clearly not believing his innocence, “stay here. We should probably leave soon if she’s this drunk.”

“I swear it’s not my fault dude,” Shawn said once Lassiter had gone after her. He flopped into a chair beside Gus, frowning, his eyebrows knitted together.

“I believe you. Maybe she’s just drunk.” Gus shrugged, taking a sip from his own glass.

He shook his head, “No, I thought so too but she acts way different when she’s drunk.”

“She could just be enjoying herself.” His best friend tried again, attempting to ease his worry.

“Maybe...” He was unconvinced though, his friend’s words doing little to ease the growing pit in his stomach. Something was wrong. He didn’t know what though and that made him feel even worse.

He didn’t know what to do without the facts, his abilities were so dependent on figuring out the truth and rolling with it. When he didn’t have that, he was lost. It was even worse when it came to people he cared about, if he couldn’t help them then what was even the point of having his skill set?

Juliet bounded up, snapping him out of his thoughts. A wide grin had taken over her face, another glass in her hand. Behind her Lassiter slowed down, breathing heavily, “She has... so much energy.”

“Oh, crap.”

Shawn’s head whipped towards Gus whose eyes had gone wide. “What?”

“Remember when we solved that case for Mel Hornsby? The baseball one?” Shawn nodded. “And remember when you accidentally drank the dead coach's water?”

“Guster out with it!” Lassiter was tapping his foot, clearly having grown impatient

“Well,” His eyes darted to all three of them, “I think Juliet accidentally ingested speed.”

It was now Shawn’s turn for his eyes to go wide. He looked over at his girlfriend who was back to dancing, her drink sloshing out of her cup. “Oh, crap.”

[bitchloveskcbaseball]

Drawn to a Flame

Pairing: Logan x Charlotte Wheeler

Summary: Logan and Charlotte go for a short drive that ends up being so much more. Set shortly after the ending of Stitches

Warnings: Just a bit of cursing and very brief references to a car crash.

Disclaimer: Logan belongs to Pixelberry.

Word Count: 3364

A/N: This is my piece for @rodappreciationweek Epilogue Day. Just as with the first part, the name for this came from Shawn Mendes’s song Stitches (I might be just a little obsessed right now lol)

“Um, Logan?” Charlotte's brow furrowed when he took a right turn two blocks before he should have turned left.

“Yeah?”

“This isn’t the way to the college.”

“Oh? It isn’t?” His tone told her that he knew it wasn’t.

“Damn it, we don’t have time for this. My meeting with my advisor starts in less than an hour! I can’t be late to that after missing so many days already.”

“It’s not like you were playin’ hooky, babe.”

“Yeah, because demolishing my car in an illegal street race is an approved reason for missing weeks of classes.”

“Nobody knows you were street racing when you wrecked.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “For now.”

Letting out a sigh, Logan moved his hand from the gear shift to rest briefly on her leg, squeezing a spot just above her knee gently. “Just relax, okay? I got you. You know I’ll always get you where you need to be.”

Instinctively, she tried to reach out her left hand to lace their fingers together, remembering too late that it was her broken arm. Despite her best efforts to the contrary, a small whimper slipped out at the jolt of pain the small movement caused.

Logan chuckled ruefully, “You would think you’d remember by now as much as you’ve done that.”

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed as she bit out, “Shut up.”

He pulled his hand away from her leg and she had to fight the urge to beg him to put it back, but almost immediately, his fingers were tangling gently in her hair, somehow managing to tuck the messy strands behind her hair without taking his eyes off the road. “I know babe. I miss it too. More than you can possibly know.”

The tender sweetness had her almost desperate to touch him and her frustration skyrocketed as a result. “Would you stop being sweet? It isn’t helping this situation one bit.”

“Should I laugh at your pain instead?”

“Yes, actually. That would be incredibly helpful.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. That’s one thing I can’t do for you. Especially not this time.”

It sounded almost as if he actually regretted it and Charlotte fell just a little harder for him. But she also didn’t miss the shudder that went through his body and found herself wishing for someway to comfort him. Even if the accident had helped bring them back together, she hated the way she’d scared him with her stupidity. Plus, losing her car like that was killing her. “I’m so sorry, Logan. I – “

“Don’t. You’re fine. I’m fine. It…it’s all fine.”

Dropping her head back against the seat, she smothered her groan of frustration. He’d been staying with her for a week but he still wouldn’t talk to her about the crash, despite the way it was clearly still bothering him. Like he thought he had to be this unaffected tough guy about the whole thing. She wanted so badly to push him on it, to make him open up, but she’d been down that road several times already and it always ended with a fight. And that was something she did not want to get into with the way she was already fighting a pounding headache and a touch of nausea – not that she was going to tell him about that particular development – so she held her tongue, letting the deep thrum of the Devore’s engine relax the tension out of her aching, exhausted body.

The next thing she knew, a hand was running gently through her hair and a soft, muffled-sounding voice was calling her name. Using an inordinate amount of effort, she pulled herself awake, vision blurry as she locked onto Logan, who was kneeling at her open door.

“Hey, Troublemaker. Have a good nap?”

“Mm-hmm.” Eyes threatening to slide closed again, she blinked hard a few times, but still felt like she was fighting a losing battle.

Chuckling, Logan leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “So…you think you’re ready to go back to school, huh?”

“I would be if the damn doctors would clear me for it.” Even to her own ears, her voice lacked conviction.

“Says the girl who’s worn out after taking a short car ride.”

“That doesn’t mean shit.”

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

Too exhausted to argue and beyond desperate to have him close to her, she raised her good arm to wrap around his shoulder and pleaded, “Hold me?”

“That mean you want me to carry you, Troublemaker?” Logan’s low laugh was somehow gentle and sweet.

“No. It means I want you to hold me.” Charlotte couldn’t help but cringe at how whiny she sounded.

“Char” – he sighed – “Lottie. Just let me carry you.”

“No. I can walk. I just need you to help me up.”

His eyes searched her face for several long seconds before he finally muttered, “Fine.” Wrapping his left arm gently around her back while trying to be careful of her still tender ribs, he held on to her free hand with his right to help tug her up to her feet. Tucking her against his side, he asked, “You good?”

Breathless from the effort and the way her body still protested even the slightest movements, she leaned heavily against Logan and huffed, “No. I told you to hold me.”

He twisted so that she was pressed against his chest and wrapped his arms around her as much it was possible with her arm in a cast and sling. She could feel his smile when he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “How ‘bout now?”

“This is perfect,” Charlotte sighed contentedly. They were silent for several moments before she muttered, voice muffled by his chest, “You know you can still call me Char or Charlotte if you want.”

“I thought you didn’t go by either of those anymore.”

“I…I don’t. Or didn’t. It just reminded me too much of…well, you. And him.”

“And it doesn’t still remind you of him?”

“Well, Char doesn’t. Not really.”

Logan gently pushed her away from him, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek in his hand. “Troublemaker, you… You aren’t the same girl I first met.” Charlotte felt her heart stutter, suddenly terrified of what he might say next, but was too frozen to interrupt. “I get that now. So, if this version of yourself, the true Charlotte, goes by Lottie, I can get used to that. Because I love her, you, so much and what name she goes by will never change that.”

It took a minute before Charlotte could pull in a shuddering breath, the fear she had been feeling making it hard to comprehend everything he’d just told her. To understand that he was finally saying all the words she’d yearned to hear for so long. But when it finally clicked, the biggest smile she’d ever felt broke out across her face. “You really mean that? All of it?”

“Every single word.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You were right when you told me that I never actually listened to what you wanted. I…I just assumed that you still wanted the life that you’d had planned before you met me. That this life and I were just a phase you were going through… I assumed that I knew better than you. I was too worried about how I was screwing up your life that I failed to see how much you had changed. Had blossomed.”

“Oh Logan.” She threaded the fingers of her free hand through the hair at the base of his head, using her grip to pull his lips down to hers. When he was close enough for their breaths to mingle, she whispered, “That’s all I’ve ever needed from you. For you to accept me like this.”

“Always, baby. Always.” He closed the remaining distance between their lips, kissing her softly, telling her without words just how precious she was to him. When they finally broke apart, several minutes later, they were both breathless and a little dazed.

Logan snapped out of it first, chuckling, which caused Charlotte to narrow her eyes at him.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Myself. And how easily you seem to be able to completely distract me. I don’t know how I ever thought I’d be able to stay away from you forever.”

“Well no one ever said you were the brains of this operation.” Charlotte managed to keep her expression serious, but could almost feel the laughter sparkling in her eyes.

“Good thing I never claimed to be, isn’t it?” He bopped her nose softly, careful of the fading bruises that still covered her face. “Anyway. I brought you here for a reason and I think we are already late.”

“Oh, my god! My meeting.” She jolted in an attempt to take off, but the sudden move sent a shockwave of pain through her body and her knees would have buckled if not for Logan’s supporting arms around her.

“Easy, babe. I don’t think you are gonna be in trouble for being late to this particular meeting.”

“You don’t underst – “ For the first time since he woke her up, Charlotte actually took in her surroundings and confusion immediately settled over her. Instead of being in a campus parking lot, they were in front of a self-storage facility. “What the hell is going on, Logan?”

“You’ll see in just a bit. You sure you want to walk?”

It wasn’t an easy task, but she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay, okay. I won’t ask again.”

He started to unwrap himself from around her but she grabbed onto the front of his shirt. “Hey. Don’t be like that.”

“Me? Like what exactly?”

“Mad at me.” She forced herself to ignore his scoff. “I know, I’m being a bitch about all this. It just…it sucks to be so damned dependent on you. …Not you specifically. Just anybody. I hate this and I hate that I did it to myself.”

Logan’s expression softened as he shifted them around so that she was tucked into his side. He wrapped his arm loosely around her and nuzzled the side of her face before pressing a kiss to her temple. “I know baby. And I know I’m going overboard with the protectiveness. I just…I want to take care of you.”

“And you are. So much. So well.” She smiled when she felt him bury his nose in her hair, but when he stayed like that for several moments, she poked his side playfully. “Don’t we have somewhere to be? Something for you to show me?”

“Oh! Right! Yeah…you ready?”

“Definitely.”

Keeping his arm wrapped around her, Logan started to guide her through the maze of storage units. He had already taken two right turns and one left and they were still walking, leading her to wonder if he actually knew where he was taking her. After yet another right turn, she finally voiced her concern. “Are you sure you know where you’re going? Do I need to send out some sort of homing beacon so the authorities can find us?” The breathlessness of her voice seemed to ruin the comedic effect of her joke as Logan drew them to a stop, staring at her with concern-filled eyes.

“Hey. You need to take a break?”

She tried not to pant as she worked to catch her breath. “Depends. How much further?” She didn’t want to admit it, but her body really was starting to scream. She hadn’t moved half this much in almost two weeks and she could definitely feel it.

“Just let me carry you, babe.”

“How far, Logan?”

He let out a loud exhale before finally relenting, “Not far. It’s just at the end of this row. But seriously – “

“I’m fine. Just… maybe we could go a little slower?”

“That’s the most I’m gonna get from you, isn’t it?”

“You bet your sweet ass it is.”

“Whatever.” She could tell he was annoyed with her, but the way the corner of his lips kept twitching with the smile he was trying to hold back told her he wasn’t all that upset.

Once they were finally standing in front of their destination, a unit at the end of the row with a large, garage-type door, Charlotte turned to Logan with raised eyebrows. “Babe, I’m still confused.”

“It will all make sense in a minute, I swear.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, typing out a short message before putting it back.

“Seriously? You lead me all the way down here just to send a fucking – “ The soft hum of a garage door opener captured Charlotte’s attention as it started to roll the door up. “Did you just send a text message to open that freakin’ door?”

There was a burst of laughter at that – make it two bursts of laughter. Forehead once again wrinkled in confusion, she turned towards the storage unit and gasped at who she saw inside. “Paul?”

“Yeah, Lottie. It’s me.”

Unexpected tears sprung to her eyes and she was helpless to stop them. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since he’d stormed out of her hospital room and she was starting to think that she really had fucked up that friendship. Even with Logan here – especially with Logan here – she knew she still needed Paul in her life and the thought that he might not be absolutely broke her heart. But here he was, waiting in a storage locker for her. But why is he waiting in a storage locker?

Before she even realized he’d moved, he was in front of her, pulling her into a much-too-tight hug, but she refused to complain. Logan, on the other hand, had no qualms about it. “Dude. Lighten up. She’s still really banged up.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry sweetheart.” Paul pulled back, but still kept his hands on her shoulders. His voice was much quieter when he added, “And not just for crushing you.”

“No, don’t – “

“Hush. I owe you an apology. You’d literally just woken up from – “ Paul shook his head, as if chasing memories away. “I should have been more understanding with you. More patient. And I damn sure shouldn’t have taken off on you like that. I just… You scared me so damn bad, Lottie. I thought…”

“I know. I know and I shouldn’t have tried to make light of the situation. I just…I hated seeing you so tense and upset and I thought a little joke might lighten the mood. I didn’t even consider everything I’d put you through.” She wanted to let it all go at that, to just enjoy knowing that she hadn’t ruined their friendship, but she couldn’t bite back the question that had been haunting her since he’d stormed out. Voice barely above a whisper, she asked, “Why didn’t you return any of my calls?”

Paul let out a deep sigh. “At first, it was because I was pissed as hell at you. Then, I knew Logan was going to be showing up on your doorstep and didn’t want to give you time to guard that frozen heart of yours.”

“Hey!”

“You know it’s true.”

“Whatever, jackass. What about after you knew Logan and I had talked?”

Turning to face Logan, Paul laughed, “She’s incredibly observant, isn’t she?”

“It really makes you wonder how she’s such a good street racer, doesn’t it?”

Shifting her glare between the two men, Charlotte hissed, “Hey, assholes, I’m still standing right here.”

“Oh, trust me, Troublemaker, we know.”

She knew it was an overreaction to storm off, but she was tired and annoyed and every inch of her body felt like it was throbbing so she really didn’t care how much of an overreaction it really was. She had only taken half of a step, though, before an almost familiar glint coming from inside the storage unit caught her eye. She side-stepped around Paul, the sight behind him causing her to freeze with horror, disbelief and excitement.

“That’s – “ She had to clear her throat to get her voice to work around her tears. “That’s my car.”

Coming up behind her, Logan wrapped his arms around her waist, being sure to avoid bumping her arm or pressing on her incision. “Yeah, baby.”

“What… how… Oh my god. What did I do?”

“Shh. It’s fine. It looks worse than it is.”

“Logan.”

“I’m not saying it’s gonna be a quick fix. But Paul’s already found a new frame. And we’ve got the pieces that need to be completely replaced on order. But the majority of it is fixable. We’re just gonna need you to be patient with us because this shit isn’t gonna be easy.”

Spinning slowly within his arms, she wrapped her right one around Logan’s neck before asking, “Why?”

“Because I know what that car means to you. Hell, what it means to us. And it isn’t beyond repair, so I wasn’t going to let it get scrapped.” A mischievous smirk broke out across his face as he added, “Besides, it’s only fair that I help fix it since I’m sorta the reason it needs fixed.”

Charlotte smothered the gasp that wanted to escape. She hadn’t been able to get him to even talk about the crash and here he was, joking about it? As much as it annoyed her, she figured it was better than nothing so instead of pressing the matter, she arched an eyebrow and sassed, “And just what makes you think it had anything to do with you?”

“Well your record was perfect until I showed up.”

She rolled her eyes at him so hard she immediately regretted it when her headache really started to throb. “Whatever. Pure coincidence is all that was.”

Before he could smart off again, she tugged him down so she could kiss him. Almost immediately, he deepened the kiss, running his tongue along her lips, begging for access. Just before she could oblige him, however, an over-exaggerated cough broke them out of their haze.

Charlotte looked over at Paul sheepishly, knowing that he knew she’d completely forgotten he was there. Rather that bring further attention to it, she opted to shift the conversation back to her car. “Thank you. So much for all of this. For saving her from the scrap yard and for putting all the plans together to fix her.”

“Hell, Lottie. Don’t go getting’ sentimental on me now.”

“Oh, whatever. You know you love it.”

Paul barked, “Shut up,” but it lacked any real heat and the smile on his face softened what was left of the blow.

Turning back to Logan, a realization struck her and she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mess with him. “What happened to no more lies, Logan?”

“Huh? What?”

“You said I had a meeting with my academic advisor.”

“Well, uh…I just… I wanted to surprise you.” At first, she thought he was just playing along, but the way he was refusing to meet her eyes told her that he was taking it all to heart. Guilt instantly started eating at her.

“Hey, look at me.” When he just shook his head, she cupped his cheek in her hand and forced him to turn back towards her. “This was so much better than some stupid college meeting.”

Eyebrows knitted together, his disbelief was thick in his voice as he asked, “Really? You aren’t pissed at me for lying to you again?”

“Of course I’m not pissed. I was just trying to mess with you a little bit.” She bit her lip, pondering for just a second if she should just leave it at that, but couldn’t resist adding, “Besides, I’ve been wondering how I was beat your ass again without a car.”

The strangled noise that got caught in his throat and the panic that settled over his expression let her know that she would soon have another battle on her hands with him. But she didn’t mind, because she was finally starting to believe that Logan was really in this for the long haul this time.

Tags: @burnsoslow @anotherbeingsworld @openheart

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Let Me In

Once again, for some reason, I get a sudden burst of creative energy around midnight. I was only thinking, god, if this scene had been in then TTDS would have had to be very different (for the better), so here it is.

Michael tells Eleanor the truth from the start.

SUBJECT WAKING UP IN 05:00

“Oh good!” Eleanor takes a sigh at the green counter flashing on the back of Michael’s office wall; “At least you’ve got a few minutes to read his file and prepare, right?”

Michael hums, still retaining that sheen of sweat on his forehead that she’s noticed since she entered. He hasn’t quite seemed his excited, determined tree of a demon-self since she walked in. He claimed it was just nerves which, fair enough, made sense considering humanity itself was counting on them.

He’d always seemed so confident since she met him on Earth. She can hardly speak for the Michael she had paired up with before, those memories were lost to her, or the brief glimpses of the ‘evil’ (still putting it mildly) manipulator she saw in the flashbacks of her and Chidi together. The only Michael she’s truly known up until now is the one before her now, the one who saved her and has been watching over her and her friends all this time, guiding them, their constant leader and protector...even if Janet ended up doing most of the physical protecting, the thought still counted, very much so.

This Michael...Her Michael...was no demon. He was their guardian angel buddy. And she didn’t believe anyone could be in charge of the experiment that would fix this screwed up afterlife more than him.

“Hey,” she gets his attention again, deciding that he’s going to know this before she leaves; “Whatever your plan is? It's gonna be great! We trust you.” 

His eyes meet hers, a smile full of surprised warmth appearing on his face.

“Your friends will always trust you.” 

No one has earned that trust more than this dude.

She gives Michael a thumbs up and turns to go out the back door so he can get ready to wake this ‘John’ guy up and get his shirt together. She dimly hears Michael muttering to himself.

“You go...I’m going...And I’m gone...”

Eleanor turns in time to see all six feet of her buddy’s skin suit crumble to his knees. 

“Michael?!” 

She moves to catch him as he slumps against his desk, falling on the floor, her hands on his arm. No, no, no, what the fork is wrong?! Is he sick? Did Shawn or another demon poison him?! All sorts of horrors run through her head to the point she forgets what they’re even supposed to be starting in less than a few minutes, her focus entirely on Michael’s wellbeing. 

“I can’t....I can’t do it....” He starts to hyperventilate, looking at her, eyes wide behind those specs; “I can’t do it, it’s too scary...Oh no, oh no, oh no!”

She’s never heard his voice break like this. Fork, he’s always held it together around them, been their firm if quirky champion. Had that all just been an act?

Was the quivering wreck in her arms more like the Michael she befriended in the last reboot?

“Michael, look at me.” she takes his hand, clutching it tight; “I know it’s a lot but you need to get it together. You’ve got this!”

“No, I don’t! I don’t got this, Eleanor!” He starts to whimper, burying his face in his free hand; “I can’t do this, I’m nothing special, I’m just Middle Management!”

“Bullshirt! Dude, listen!” She says, fiercely; “You are better than all of the demons and Judges and angel nerds I’ve come across so far! You actually want to do shirt that matters, you try to get it done where they either give up or don’t care! You got us this far, man, farther than anyone has ever come out of this ridiculous system...You even got me to snap out being a selfish bench drowning in my nihilistic, determinist crab - You are...You’re our hero, Michael, don’t you get that? And you can be a hero for these humans we’re gonna welcome in too, and for every human that ever dies-.”

“You know you’re just adding to the pressure, right?” 

“Right, fork, forget that last bit.” Eleanor retreats, taking a breath; “Look, all I’m saying is, you have nothing to worry about. You can do this, I have faith in you...Me! I never had faith in anyone since I stopped believing in the tooth fairy after I stayed awake to try to mug her.”

Michael laughs with her, and for a small respite, Eleanor hopes she’s managed to crack through the stress and let him calm down. But then he meets her eyes again, his gaze lingering, before he crumbles into tears.

“No, no, no, I can’t...I can’t, it’s too much...Too much to lose...”

Eleanor looks at the timer. Three minutes thirty seconds. Damn, they don’t have long.

“Michael, what do you mean?” She asks, putting on her no nonsense voice; “We’ve always known what’s at stake, bud, this hasn’t phased you before, why now? What changed?”

He hangs his head, bringing his knees in close and hugging himself like a frightened kid.

Eleanor places her palm on the side of his head; “Talk to me! I just told you that your friends will always trust you, remember? That needs to be two-way, buddy. Trust me. Let me in. Can you do that?”

He remains frozen, meek sobs choking out, eyes shut.

“...For me?”

He looks up at her again, a shift in his expression. As if he’s only seen her there for the first time.

“Shawn called.” Barely a whisper.

Eleanor’s jaw clenches, her fingers tightening on Michael’s wrist.

“What...?” The fork?!

“B-before you came in...He called to say that...He wanted to taunt me about you all being tortured when...I-if we lose...” He sniffs, rubbing his nose; “B-but that also...He’s going to torture you by having one of the demons...w-wear a suit of me. So you guys think that I’m the one...I’m the one who...”

His voice breaks apart again as he shatters once more.

Eleanor’s guts twist in rage. How the fork dare that low-rent Satan mess with her buddy like that?! When they’re only a minute away from...?!

She puts her hands to Michael’s face.

“Hey. Hear me, bud.” She’s truly fired up now, “There is no way we are ever going to fall for a trick like that, even if we do lose, which we won’t. We’ll never believe any of those losers are really you. Especially now you’ve told me.”

“That’s it...That’s why I wasn’t going to...” He confesses, cringing with shame; “He said that he’d erase your memories of finding out. And...”

Another look of horror passes over him.

He tries to shuffle away from her.

“Y-you’re never gonna be sure if it’s me or not...Or if they’ve swapped me, you...” He shudders, uncontrollably, fingers clawing at his own face; “How can you ever trust me now knowing what I’ve told you?!”

He recoils as if she’s already voiced her rejection.

“Dude...It’s okay....” she tries to be soft at first, wanting to reach out and brush those tears off his stupid, pretty but stupid face.

He just shakes his head and keeps looking away.

Eleanor darts forward and reaches for his hands again, pulling them close to her. 

“Michael. I didn’t think it was possible to trust you more than I did five minutes ago but, after you just told me this, and seeing what it’s done...I trust you with everything, with every piece of this...hot soul of mine before you, ‘kay?” She tells him before reaching a hand out to stroke his cheek; “I see you. I know it’s you. And as soon as we get a moment, we can tell the others and organise some sort of plan to ease your worries about this, but for now....Just breathe. Go on.”

He obeys her, taking a deep breath in, then out. The anxiety remains etched into the lines on his face. No wonder, that little mental torture of Shawn’s clearly did a number on him at the worst time.

She reaches out to place her palm on his chest.

“Does that help? I see Jason do it all the time.” she asks, frowning.

Michael is able to manage a tiny smile amidst his distress, looking down at her fingers over the space where his heart should be (but isn’t).

“...It’s helping.” 

Eleanor shuffles forward on the floor and tugs him into her arms, wrapping him up in the tightest of hugs. She wishes, for a moment, she had the power to snap her fingers and take this message from Shawn out of Michael’s memories. Or just beat the shirt outta the guy. Or both.

No one messes with her demon.

“I know you, man. Even without my memories...I feel like I’ve always known you. I ain’t ever letting any stupid demon make me forget you again, or the real you.” She leans in and plants a lingering, sweet kiss on his cheek, leaning back a bit to look into his eyes; “We’re gonna win this. I’m sure we will...And none too soon, we’re gonna be celebrating that victory over Shawn by burning all those fake Michael suits and getting drunk off our ashes.”

He sniffs, raising his hand to stroke her hair, tears soaking his cheeks.

“Eleanor, I...It was so hard to have you guys forget me again but...Not having you trust me, or think I’d ever hurt you again, I...I can’t cope with it...!”

“Then don’t! Don’t let him get to you!” She urges, turning to the wall.

00:30 REMAINING

It’s not enough time. Not for Michael to suddenly clean himself up and be as normal as an only somewhat fake angelic Architect can be. He’s too shaken up. She can give him all the comfort in the cosmos but it won’t restore his courage in time.

Well. Eleanor steels herself. She’ll have to have enough courage for the both of them.

“I’ll do it.” She tells him; “I’ll tell John that I’m the Architect. You just sit in the corner and pretend to be my assistant.”

“What?” Michael blinks; “I....I can’t ask you to...”

“You don’t need to. I’m stealing that chair of yours, bud. I look better in it anyway.” She tells him, resolute; “I can fudge my way through it and then you help me work it out from the shadows, that sound good? Like I said. We’re gonna do this as a team.”

She takes his hand and interlocks their fingers together.

“Trust me?”

He glances at their hands and then at her, taking another deep breath.

“....A-always.”

She smiles, hoping she’s not about to make a huge fork-up. After all Michael has done for her, she has no qualms about taking this role on for him to get it together. 

As the last few seconds count down, she crushes him in another hug.

“Say it with me, man.” she whispers, feeling him tighten his hold as if she’ll disappear; “We’ve got this.”

He exhales, melting in her arms for the last spare moments, before they get back on their feet. Somehow feeling like they’re on the same level now, even with the silver devil still towering over her, a renewed spark of hope in his eyes.

“We’ve got this.”

[bisluthq]

Not trying to defend him at all, but Shawn said he used to feel the need to prove he wasn't gay. He doesn't feel it anymore . The fact that he acknowledged that what he was thinking was wrong proves that he isn't a homophobe. The only reason he brings up the gay thing was because of the way people were saying it . There's a huge difference between people saying "Hey are you comfortable with sharing your sexuality?/Do you think shawn is gay?" And saying things like "Omg shawn is such a bottom and he NEEDS to come out because it's 2020 and we all know he's gay . He's literally in a glass closet./ stop hiding shawn ,just come already / ew he's so weird he should come out already " and then using homophobic slurs .(it's also mostly straight women saying this) Additionally his manager used to see most of these tweets and he only publicly came out last year . I think he upset because people treated being gay like a bad thing . He even said multiple times that he doesn't care how he comes off to people, it's just that he *happens to be het* . There's no right or wrong way to address these things is there ? Because of he ignored it , people would accuse him of queerbaiting . I don't care what his sexuality is, but I genuinely think he was only trying to look out for the people in his life . If I missed out or misinterpreted something, please educate me on it .

So I agree with you that saying shit like “lmao what a bottom” and “get out the glass closet” is very fucked and especially fucked when straight women say it (and I have spoken about the role of straight women in slash shipping before and how much they erase of like actual queer culture).

According to actual gay men, though, the shit he has said isn’t okay.

Tbh this is their baby. If they feel like the 2020 piece was a course correction, fair enough.

If they feel like it’s problematic, I’m gonna let them handle it. I have enough of a problem dealing with the wlw and rumored wlw. I can’t also start devoting time to mlm especially when THEIR community can fucking sort it out if need be.

Like my personal issue is he KEEPS DENYING and talking about it. I compared him to Lou for a reason because batshit Larries have like caused MASSES of damage to him. They ruined a very close friendship and they constantly fuck with Eleanor starting with when they tried to kick her out of uni and continuing to this day. But he denied like properly ONCE and he let it go although I’m sure it continues to frustrate him.

I understand it’s fucking annoying. But it’s not an insult. So why constantly talk about it? Especially when you have a lovely hot girlfriend you claim to be happy with? Idk.

I’m just not a fan of how he has dealt with it idk.

[zerotosiki]

A Little Too Much - Daminette SongFic

Pairing(s): Damian Wayne (DC) x Marinette Dupain-Cheng (MLB)

Description: Damian and his brothers decided to give a surprise to Marinette. Based on the song "A Little Too Much" by Shawn Mendes. If you didn’t know the song, you can listen to it here.

Word Count: 3,931

Warnings: This is my first time writing the full and completed story. I am still confused with tenses and grammar so I am really sorry if any words look so weird! I am warning you guys!

AN: Same with what I said above. Sometimes (or maybe always..?) I like to exaggerate my story soooo... I hope you guys like it!

Thank you so much @ozmav for creating this wonderful ship, you don’t know how much I need this kind of romance, a romance involving a bad boy but becoming softer because of his girl! And thank you @officiallyathiana for giving this perfectly idea!

Main Story (You’re here) || Bonus 1 || Bonus 2

Why? Why did he accept the bet? "This is not a bet!!" exclaim Jason from behind. Yeah, but in his eyes, this is a bet! How come? He and his annoying brothers decided to surprise Marinette. Yes, Marinette, his girlfriend. Damian didn't expect that he could be able to be in a relationship for 3 years and his girlfriend is an Angel too!

Umm ... To be more precise, a wingless angel ... Marinette is a very kind, friendly, smart, pretty, and sometimes, she emits a fiery aura in her eyes... And, don't forget her beautiful smile. Even the dark city of Gotham can suddenly become bright if she's here, smiling while chuckling occasionally.

"Okay enough about her beautiful smile because we already know how much you love her," Jason said suddenly, a mischievous smile on his face. Damian glared at Jason while growling, even though Jason didn't feel intimidated at all. Not with Damian's red face because of his own embarrassment.

"Stop it!" said Dick after clapping his hands hard enough to prevent a bloody war that might occur sometime later. "We should go back to our previous discussion okay? If you want this surprise to really happen before it's too late..."

And with that, Damian snorted in annoyance while Jason only chuckled at his brother's behavior. "I already said if we want to give a surprise to Marinette, it should be a fancy and fabulous one. Since Marinette deserves the best," said Damian while crossing his hand.

"But demon-spawn, you should know by now that Marinette isn't fond of excessive luxury. It'll just make her uncomfortable and you don't want that, right?" asked Tim from across the sofa, a cup of coffee in his hand as usual.

Of course, Damian would know about it. But there's no way he would admit it openly. Not in the front of his annoying brothers, okay?

"That's why we suggest you a more simple one but no less romantic than your original plan, Damian."

"You said a simple one... And that is by singing to her?" Damian cannot help to ask about that with a tone of disbelief. Because what is romantic with singing? Isn't that just a plain one? Moreover, he never singing in his entire life! He is in distress! He scared he will be the ONE ruining this surprise because of his voice. Not that his voice is bad, okay? He knows his voice is good, like really really good.

"Yup, and you already lost, demon-spawn. So you cannot back down now..." Oh, how he wishes he can turn back time right now. He wonders why he has such bad luck. Five minutes ago, he and his brothers were arguing which type of surprise gift they should prepare for Marinette's upcoming birthday.

He chooses a fancy one with him holding a bunch of roses in front of her school so when she out of school, she will be surprised and then happy and then... hopefully, give a kiss thank you? Not only roses, of course. He will take her to a fancy dinner where he would gift her another present and maybe she'll give a big smile while in tears and then... again, give a kiss thank you?

But no, his brothers strongly disagree with him and suddenly deciding that singing to her is a better option. Which is not. In his opinion. Since Damian is stubborn to let go of his plan, one of his brothers, the oldest one, Dick, suggesting for Damian to do rock-paper-scissors with one of them (Dick, Jason, or Tim).

So Damian chooses Jason, for a reason, he thinks Jason would have less chance to win with this type of game. Oh, how wrong he is. Maybe Lady Fortune is indeed upset with him. Because he loses 3 straight chances with Jason! And now he has to accept the consequences.

After one month of a lot of practice, he and his brothers have a trip to Paris (Bruce cannot come along because of an important business that he cannot miss. Of course not before he said, "Damian, please send my regards to my future daughter-in-law" in which Damian is just glaring at his father while his cheek is tinted with pink color).

"... And here I am ..." said Damian to no one. He is so nervous. His hand suddenly felt sweaty while his other hand held a guitar. After he sits down on one of the benches near Marinette's school while Dick and Jason take a seat behind him (They help him by playing the guitar too. It's just for the "best" result, not because he cannot play the guitar very well). He takes a breath down while he tries to calm his nerves. It worked, alright. He felt a lot calmer compared to before.

"Don't worry too much Baby Bat. I'm sure Marinette will be very happy with this! Trust me!" Of course she will happy. At least he hopes so. When Tim is signaling to him, he knows now that's the cue to start. So he closes his eyes and begins playing the guitar while ignoring all the stares from the passerby.

She would not show that she was afraid

He remembers the first time he met Marinette. At that time, some unimportant villains are attacking Wayne Enterprises when he becomes Jason's assistant for a translator between the French class and his brother (Dick was busy with his girlfriend so he cannot be the guide).

Jason tries to help people including The French class to evacuate as quickly as he can, while Damian goes to a safe place to change into his Robin uniform. By the time he comes back, there's already Red Robin at there and a second minute later Red Hood comes too. He suddenly raises a voice and at that time Damian, no, Robin knows what is wrong.

He sees one of the French class, a girl with midnight hair and prettiest blue eyes he ever has seen, standing protectively behind a little boy. In front of her is one of the villains, who apparently decides to become a coward and want to target weak civilians. He and Red Hood rush in to save her just to see that little petite girl kick the villains in the face. And can you hear the cracking sound?

Wow. Robin just stood there looking awestruck until he snaps out of it when Red Hood strangling the villain. Since his brothers already dealing with the villains, Robin decides to check the girl.

When he approaching the girl who right now is busy hugging the little boy while whispering something, probably to calm the little boy, she suddenly spins around and takes a defensive pose until she realizes the one who comes is Robin, one of Gotham's vigilante.

Good reflex, he noted. She goes back to calming the boy while sometimes she glances at Robin's direction.

"Are you okay?" Ask Robin softly while internally he curses himself for asking such stupid question. Of course, she's not okay. No one would be okay after being confronted by a villain. She visibly relaxes after she hears his soft tone, although he won't miss how her hand still shake albeit just a little. He knows she is trying to hide her fear.

"I'm okay, although I was hoping we can take the boy to somewhere safer..?" she said with a hint of French's accent, which made her sound more adorable, okay, focus Robin! He scolds himself.

Not only brave, but she also kind and still thinking someone else besides herself. "Yes, don't worry I'll take you guys outside so the medic will check up on you," He said then he escorts the girl and the little boy to outside and then went to help his brothers. Not before she softly said thank you, though.

Leaving behind Robin who begins to feel some weird feelings.

But being and feeling alone was too much to face

No matter how hard she tried to be strong, he worried that all the problems she'd been through ---Hawkmoth and Liela----, take a toll for her petite body. He knows that feeling. The feels being alone in this big cruel world. Kill or being killed. That was a lesson he was though from back then. When he still takes the mantle of 'al Ghul'.

But he grateful because his life is becoming better than before when he met Batman, his father, and his brothers albeit still annoying.

And he is really lucky to meet a wonderful girlfriend, Marinette, his habibti.

Though everyone said that she was so strong

What was her nickname get from the class, the one he heard from the blonde guy? Oh right, their everyday ladybug. Just because Marinette has been helping her friends whenever her friends need help. Just like Ladybug, one of Parisian's heroes. Which is ridiculous.

IF Marinette really their everyday ladybug, then why? Why they choose to believe some shit-not-true-based talks from a random transfer girl who is still new in the school over their claim to be their everyday ladybug who is already being their friend longer than that Liela girl.

What they didn't know is that she could barely carry on

Didn't they have common sense? Not even the strongest guy can take a burden as big as the world! Take a high road? Avoid Liela being akumatized? Damian scoff at this when he listening to one of Marinette's stories. That's stupid and a coward move, he thinks.

He worried because... What about Marinette? Who will take care of her? Marinette is just a human being after all. What if the one being akumatized is her? What would they do? He knows Marinette is really strong, physically and mentally. After repelling akuma for 3 times? Of course she is. And Damian is really proud of her.

But sometimes, the worries still nag him in the back of his mind. Even Batman, the dark and coldest knight can sometimes have a mental breakdown!

 But she knew that she would be okay

So she didn't let it get in her way

Of course, ever since she comes to his life, meeting his brothers, Alfred, and his father. He knows, he along with his family will make sure to give Marinette a deserve and best care in the 'world'. From the moment they know the problem, they began to make a "Marinette deserve to be happy" plan right away. He won't let these pesky so-called friends get in the way. Not in his watch, okay.

He knows the plan is the right choice. Because after that, Marinette gradually became more relaxed, happy, and... just being herself.

He, Damian Wayne, swore to himself, to let her know that she deserves to be happy. She's not alone in this world. Not after meeting him. Not after she became his habibti.

 Sometimes it all gets a little too much

There was one time. One time that makes his habibti almost expelled from her own school. And that source's problem is... again... ..from that pesky girl named Liela. Oh don't worry, he already has 101 lists on how to get rid of her, alright.

But you gotta realize that soon the fog will clear up

Although thankfully Marinette's not really expelled. Even if Marinette's really been expelled, and that problem hasn't solved, he will make sure to solve it, by the law. With his last name and his ability, he can easily found the evidence to sue the school, even Liela.

And you don't have to be afraid, because we're all the same

And we know that sometimes it all gets a little too much

He always said to Marinette, to let him or someone else know if she has something troubling her. To let her know, that asking for help is the right thing to do.

"Oh, she's here demon-spawn," whisper Jason which makes him suddenly open his eyes and right there, among peoples, stood his beautiful habibti, Marinette. With her wide eyes, probably from the shock of seeing him here. He gives her a reassuring smile (Hopefully it really looks assuring? 'Cause he is trying so hard to hide his nervous) in which she returns it with her beautiful smile albeit her eyes were glazed.

Okay, time for plan 2 begins.

He quickly but swiftly set aside the guitar (Don't worry, Dick and Jason still playing their guitars. This is a part of their plan, okay? A plan of "We've got your back so you don't have to worry about messing up because of your guitar's skill"). Then he sauntered to her while still singing.

He can see her classmate, the blonde guy, the glasses girl, the cap guy, and the sausage hair girl. But he doesn't care. In his eyes, there's only her. His Habibti. Marinette.

 She would always tell herself she could do this

He chuckles whenever he remembers the time when she nervous, she'll chant "Marinette, you're going to be okay. Just trust yourself. Like Tikki and Damian always said." over and over again while she paced. He found it's adorable and had to refrain himself from hugging her and kissing her right then and there.

She would use no help it would be just fine

The first time he tried to convince her that sometimes it's okay for asking help is hard. Like Really hard, okay. He has to be patient or she'll get mad, and he doesn't want that. He knows she is an independent person so she'll try to find a solution by herself without bothering others and he admires her for that.

But sometimes he can't help but to worries about his habibti, okay? Not only that, he admits sometimes he wants to be a reliable boyfriend. A person she can depend on. If that's not too much problem...

But when it got hard she would lose her focus

He worried she'll fall sick because of the problem she'd been through. Because of one time. That is one time. And he doesn't want that to happen again. Not anymore. He remembers, oh, how could he forget? Even if he wants to. He can't.

At that night of patrol, the batfam and ladybird were patroling like usual. He notices Marinette, no, Ladybird weren't herself at that time. Because sometime she would space out. And when he or his brothers ask her if she's okay or needs to rest, she would always say the same thing.

"I am okay, don't worry!" with a smile but not the same smile she always used. It's a tired smile but silently screaming 'Please leave me alone' to which make him and his brothers were forced to leave it.

But later, he regrets it. And he blames himself for it. She, Ladybird got hurt badly because they were ambushed by a group of villains and while the villains are not the strongest one, but because Ladybird is distracted by her problems and the batfam was distracted too because of their worries for Ladybird, one of the villains sneaks behind Ladybird without all of them noticing. And successfully strike her in the back with a knife. A freaking knife.

She got free when she punched the villain hard, in the neck. Which makes the villain fall unconscious. Although not soon as after that, she collapses too. Robin instantly by her side, cradling her gently, ignoring the guilt feeling crawling inside his mind and the tears that started to gather in his eyes. His brothers are not that different too. They beat the villains harder and as quickly as they can, so they can bring Ladybird to the hospital or the Batcave and have Alfred treat her.

Thankfully, the wound is not as crucial as they thought it would be. Although Marinette has to stay rest in the bed for a week. Which is totally okay for him but not okay for Marinette. She's not okay with all batfam trying to babysit her but eh, like it or not, she has to face it. Since it's partly her fault for being distracted in the battle. This is a lesson for her to not pushing herself too hard. And for him to be a more firm boyfriend.

So take my hand and we'll be alright

He found himself already stood in front of her. Staring into her bluebell sparkling eyes, and smiling while softly singing, he held out his hand. She blinks then takes his hand and he gently grasped it. Both of them smiling, ignoring the confused glance from her classmate and the glare from certain people, because why would they care? When in this world, it's just him and her, Damian and Marinette.

 And she knew that she would be okay

He guides her back to his brother's place. And at that time, although Marinette felt confused as to why in the world, Damian and his brothers were in here. But she knew that she would be okay. Because she's not alone anymore.

So she didn't let it get in her way

She soon relaxes in his gentle grasp and his soothing voice. This is her best day! Although she has to channel her ladybug's persona when she went through class this morning but at least, now, she got to meet her long-distance-boyfriend!

She greets his brother in silent nod while Dick is giving his charming smile and Jason winked at her. Damian takes a seat and takes his guitar to resume his playing while she takes a seat beside him, although they never broke their gaze from each other. She found herself lost in his deep green forest eyes, while he, Damian, is mesmerizing her eyes too.

 Sometimes it all gets a little too much

But you gotta realize that soon the fog will clear up

And you don't have to be afraid, because we're all the same

And we know that sometimes it all gets a little too much, yeah

Both of them knew. He knew Marinette, right now, is okay. Visibly looks tired but her hopeful eyes are already assuring him that she's okay. Marinette knew, from a long time ago, after Damian has successfully convinced her, that she's not alone. She still has a lot of people who care for her being. Whether it's her parent, her true friends, her kwami, her family, and her boyfriend.

And she's thankful for having such wonderful friends. She's really glad because she doesn't have to bear this alone. She can ask for help, asking for advice. And that's an okay thing to do. And that's a wonderful thing to do. It's felt like something lifted up in her body. And she felt more... light. She felt more... ease.

 A little too much, I said a little too much, oh

She still has a lot of problems, alright. With Hawkmoth still here roaming while Lila still making a problem for her.

 Sometimes it all gets a little too much

But you gotta realize that soon the fog will clear up

But for the first time she thinks, 'It's going to be alright. Because I have a lot of wonderful people who were here to support me. And they'll have my back when I needed help.'

And you don't have to be afraid, because we're all the same

One time she was worried when she has a partner (A partner in romance, mind you. Not partner in battle), can she hide her secret identity from them? What if it's affecting their relationship? What if someday her partner wouldn't trust her again after how many times she lied to protect her secret identity?

But when she knows Robin's real identity after she's been dating Damian for a year, she partly glad and partly afraid. She glad because she and Damian are similar, they both were heroes who have a burden in their shoulders. And maybe... Just maybe... Damian would understand her. She worried because if Damian is a hero too (or a vigilante, according to what he said), then he must've been through a lot like her, or probably much worse than her. And she's afraid for him.

And we know that sometimes it all gets a little too much yeah

Hawkmoth and Lila's problem + all crimes in Gotham's town who'd been raising lately? Yup, it's getting a little too much for both of them. And they knew it.

 Sometimes it all gets a little too much

But you gotta realize that soon the fog will clear up

But that's okay because they can handle it.

And you don't have to be afraid, because we're all the same

Because they're together. We're both together.

And we know that sometimes it all gets a little too much

Even if the world's going to fall apart, they know they'll handle it. They can handle it. Because they're together, with all support from their friends and family. Yes, they can.

 The song ended with a soft thud and Damian put his guitar back then turns around to face his girlfriend while saying, "Umm.. so what do you think?". Marinette just raises a brow hearing his nervous tone, "Isn't like I'm angry or disappointed, but what is this?". Marinette tries to remember if today is an important day that maybe she forgets because she's been focusing on her problem? But no, there's no such date. Her birthday is still a month later and their anniversary is still a couple months later too.

"Well, we were actually planning to give you a surprise gift for your birthday BUT this baby demon-spawn here.." Jason ruffled his hair playfully, to which Damian response with a glare and "Shut it, Todd!" but Jason just chuckled, much to his dismay.

"What Jason means is Baby Bat is very worried about you. He always spaced out and then put on this scowl face with a wrinkled forehead, a look of worry, whenever he thinks we're not noticing." Dick continued to embarrass his little brother with a teasing smile.

"..So we decided we have enough of a moody Damian, book a ticket to Paris earlier than the plan and do the surprise right now and there, just to cheer up you, Marinette. So Damian will not go back to his moody mode and you'll cheer up again! It's a win-win for all of us." said Tim, who surprised Marinette because she doesn't know he's here too. Marinette is giving him an 'I am sorry' look while Tim just waving his hand, a sign of 'it's okay'.

Damian groaned. He thought this day will going perfectly but nooo... His brothers always try to found a way to embarrass him. And now they successfully did it. They perfectly ruining his image of 'a good and cool boyfriend' (he try hard).

Marinette giggled, her giggling sound send warm feelings in his body, and save him from his embarrassment by taking his hand and hugging him firmly. "Thank you so much, Dami," she whispers softly. To which Damian respond with hugging her back, and gently said, "Your welcome, Habibti".

"...So ready for the next part?" asked Jason to no one in particular. The couple broke their hug and Marinette giving a confused glance at his boyfriend. Damian just shrugs and smirk, "Do you want to go have fun, Habibti?" while his eyes were sending a different message, "Do you want to go from this awful place and away from this awful your so-called classmate?". Marinette blinks before catching on to his hidden message and giving him a gigawatt smile, "Yes, of course, Dami".

...End?

Main Story (You’re here) || Bonus 1 || Bonus 2  

-------------------------------->>

Maybe or maybe not I will make some bonus stories (which is about a salty classmate, a roasted Liela, oops, I mean Lila, and Damian's embarrassment. Lol). The bonus stories will be just for fun though.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Story about something crashing on little Sammy parents farm. Maybe the government comes and forces them out for a while to collect it?👽

Warning for disturbing imagery and dead animals!

Summary: Joey Drew Studio is snowed in, so while everyone tries to keep warm for the night they end up reminiscing about the oddest things they had ever experienced. Sammy ends up recalling a rather bizarre event from his childhood.

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[[MORE]]

"I'm sorry to impose so much Mrs. Harrison. I trust Abigail will behave, she's a little angel I assure you." Sammy fidgeted with the phone chord nervously as he listened to his elderly neighbor. "Yes, yes thank you... Oh certainly! Let her on so I can wish her a good night..."

Susie watched as the tired look on the music director's face melted away to welcome a gentler smile. She could sort of hear a child's voice on the line (his little sister that he'd mentioned a few times). It was quite endearing to see Sammy with such a calm and content expression instead of the usual grumpy scrawl that scared half the band into submission.

"Good night Abby, be good to Mrs. Harrison." The call was coming to a close. "I love you too."

Susie smiled at him and nodded, taking her turn to call home now that he was finished.

"Wally is heating up soup in the break room. The stove's thankfully working." She called after him as she dialed the number.

"Everyone camping out there?" He asked as he looked back at the voice actress.

"Everyone but Joey, that devil of a man actually has an insulated office... The rest of us are sleeping by the stove." She sighed "Thankfully Norman and Grant thought ahead and brought a few blankets to stay warm."

Clever thinking and also a necessity, as Grant's office was very drafty, and Norman's booth got cold from the pipework frosting over a bit (since the music department had been a repurposed bathroom) in cold weather. Mr. Cohen also knew the likelyhood of Joey having paid the heating bill. Slim to none.

"Great... Just what I wanted, to sleep in a stuffy room full of people and the smell of that rancid soup..." A soup he'd enjoyed at first (due to it reminding him of his father's cauliflower soup which had little bits of bacon in it), but which had lost its luster on the third week of being asked to take a few cans home. Abby hated the stuff so he'd had to eat it himself. "Don't you just love getting snowed in?"

"Only when I was a child. The snow usually meant no classes." Susie finished dialing and waited for her mother to answer.

He left her alone to go back into the break room where Wally and Norman were passing around bowls of soup. Grant greeted him with a blanket, which he graciously took. The damn studio was absolutely freezing in November. The freak snowstorm hadn't helped.

Honestly he'd loved the look of a snowy New York when he'd first moved here with his father. It had looked beautiful and new, almost magical, unlike the ranch he'd grown up in until he was 11. Looking back now, he missed the expanse of snowy fields instead of the cold streets. He also missed watching a few of the animals play in the snow.

Getting stuck in the studio made him a little nostalgic.

"Here ya go Sammy!" Wally passed him a bowl of soup, which he nearly dropped in surprise, and grinned "It ain't my ma's beef stew and it definitely lacks a spoon since we don't got that many of those to begin with, but at least it'll keep you warm from the inside!"

"I, yes at least that." He sniffed it and grimaced. Pork grease and chunky bits that definitely were less bacon and more cartilage. "You ever wonder how they made this slop?"

"I'd rather not think about it. It's like hot dogs ya know... The less you know about it, the better they are!" The janitor shrugged and went to sit on one of the chairs closer to the stove. Everyone was very much huddled close by, swaddled in shared blankets, rubbing their hands together to keep them warm, or drinking soup.

Norman nodded at the music director once he sat down to join the group. Not too long after Susie was sitting beside him, and he offered to share his blanket with her.

"So, what do we do now?" Wally asked as he looked around. The issue would be sorted in the morning but it was still only a quarter to eleven and no one was particularly keen on sleeping just yet.

"I'll tell ya what we could do!" Shawn called out from his spot, voice slightly muffled by his big red scarf. "I say we pass t'time by indulging in the ye old grand art that is story tellin'!"

"Story telling? What, like a sleepover?" Jack questioned. Sammy found it amusing that he'd swaddled himself in his blanket in a way that pressed his hair tight against his skull, to the point where it looked like a makeshift scarf and ear mitts. "Like when we were little kids?"

"Well we're all sleepin' here t'night aren't we? And ya don't need t'be wee little ankle biters t'go tellin' stories." Shawn huffed "Besides, what better way t'know yer co-workers than share some harrowin' tales? I sure got a few that'll intrigue you folks I'm sure."

"Is it about potatoes?" One of the art department workers asked, only to get a slap on the back of the head and an elbow to the ribs.

"Very funny, that muppet over there's a real comedian coddin like that..." The Irishman rolled his eyes. "Right, you folk ever hear 'bout the legend o'the banshee?"

Everyone gave him a peculiar look, which Shawn took as permission to carry on.

"The tale varies some dependin' on t'person who tells ya. But the way me ma told it to me was somethin' like this: The banshee is a sweet singin' virgin, pretty as a button, a real feek." He tapped his chin thoughtfully as he recalled his mother's words. "Sometimes she has long black hair, other times it's a bright red like fire. Always pale... But don't be thinkin' she's just some little lady, oh no. The banshee is a spirit, one that heralds death in the family. Her ghastly cries precede the death o'loved ones and fill ya with a mighty chill o'dread... And I saw one when I was just a wee lad."

"Ya saw... A ghost?" Lacie wrinkled her nose. "And ya sure it wasn't some regular girl you just saw?"

"Couldn't o'been. She was right outside the window Lacie. And me room was on the second floor..." Shawn shook his head "And I knew it had to o'been a banshee. She looked just like me cousin, who died o'the shakes a few months prior. My pa always did say she might come back as the household haunt, she wasn't ready t'leave just yet."

"So, that's it? You saw some apparitions at your window and think it was some folklore horror?" Sammy rolled his eyes.

"Yep. An' then in the morning me grandpa was dead. Dreadful song she went and had t'sing. I was just 5 too! T'damn beour coulda gone bother me brother instead... He was t'one that used to scare us wee lads with these tales o'ghosts n' ghoulies..."

Well, that wasn't a very nice story. And it likely had a reasonable explanation behind it too. Just a small child frightened by tales and likely still coming to terms with losing a cousin.

"Oh, that's nothin'!" Wally grinned. "Ghost stories aren't anythin' compared to what I found in a ditch when I was 8!"

"Oh yeah? Then enlighten us, oh scare Meister!" Shawn barked back, glaring slightly. "What coulda been worse than a banshee?"

"How about a maneater?" The janitor offered.

Shawn fell quiet and others began to whisper among each other at the claim, before Norman began to hush everyone.

"Go on then... Yous can't just say that an' not tell us."

"Oh man, it was the dang scariest thing I'd seen as a kid!" Wally grinned. "Us tykes from Brooklyn? We didn't grow up with monster stories and such. Our mas and pas told us about kidnappers and murderers instead, cuzz those are like, real dangers you know?"

He took a sip from his cooling bowl of soup, before clearing his throat.

"But you know what kids are like. They like adventure and don't really listen too much cuzz, you only believe it when you see it!" He carried on. "Me? I was with a couple a pals exploring this old ditch that had some neat stuff people used to throw in there. Busted watches, trinkets, sometimes a lost wallet with a little bit of cash in it...Well that day there wasn't just goodies."

Sammy sipped his own soup and felt Susie's arm brush up against his as she got on the edge of her seat. She was excited to hear wherever Wally's story was going.

"Local news had like, been going on about this one loon that had run off from the big house or somethin'. Some big mug who was a pervert or whatever. Adult stuff we kids didn't care for." Wally looked around as he spoke. "Only he wasn't no pervert, just really messed in the head. A cannibal. A cannibal that liked eating little tots. You know, stories like Little Johnny went pokin' around where he shouldn't and now there was no Little Johnny no more? Yeah that nearly was us."

"You found the guy in the ditch?" Sammy guessed.

"Nope! Found my neighbor, Sally, partially eaten and all kinds o' messed up." Wally replied "I figured we were in trouble so we ran like our butts were on fire and screamed the whole way back. Coppers caught the fucker and his picture on the paper still gives me nightmares. If we'd found him instead, we woulda ended up like Sally!"

Everyone looked extremely disturbed at the thought of a couple of 8 year olds finding another child's partially eaten corpse.

"Shite... No wonder yer such a mog. Brooklyn's fucked up!" Shawn winced.

"Hey!" Wally pouted.

"Also your story was misleading. You didn't actually encounter the "maneater"." Sammy pointed out. "That's not how you should advertise a tale you twit."

"Would ya rather I have found the creep that did it?"

"No, next time just don't make it sound like an actual encounter when it's an anecdote about another outcome entirely."

"Don't go bein' an ass Lawrence." Norman called out. "I thought the story was good. Messed up, but good... Granted it don't top what I experienced when I was still in the cradle."

"Oh, this ought to be good." The blond smirked. "Word of mouth?"

"My Nanna never told no lie. Yous won't find a more honest lady." Norman smirked back.

At this point everyone had finished their soup and was practically laying or leaning against one another for warmth. It helped that the story telling atmosphere had all but made everyone forget about the cold.

Norman being so tall and obscuring the stove ever so slightly, cast strange shadows on the wall.

"Now, this happened a few months after I was born. My Nanna was lookin' after me while my mama and memaw was helpin' my pops and pepaw out in the cotton fields. My brother and sister wasn't that much older either, not yet ready to go pickin', so they was in their room playin' together." He leaned back in his chair, a content smile on his face "Nanna was just preparin' lunch while I was layin' in this big ol' basket full o' pillows and blankets, just sleepin' away like babies do. She turned 'round to chop up some carrots when she had this weird feelin' all of a sudden."

Sammy put an arm around Susie as he listened. Norman was a pretty good story teller. Had this voice that just pulled you in. He could almost imagine a little chubby baby in a basket while an old lady prepared food in the kitchen.

"Nanna Polk always had a feel for when things were no good all of a sudden. She'd known when Poppop weren't doing well in the head, and she knew how to pop a shot into a big gator when it got too close to the house. She wasn't afraid o'nothin'." Norman carried on. "But she was afraid. She was afraid when the blade o'her knife caught the reflection o'this big brute pullin' my basket out the window."

Sammy winces and Susie tightened her grip on his arm. The others were quite aghast as well, at the thought of an innocent little babe getting snatched away by some stranger.

"Nanna didn't scream. She didn't wanna scare my siblings you see... Instead she tiptoed towards the backdoor, knife in hand, and kept outta sight o'the man that was tryin' to take me away." Norman hummed as he thought back on what Nanna had told him. "You know, they often tell ya 'bout southern hospitality. If yous is friendly and respectful, yous always got a friend. They don't tell yous about Louisiana ladies like my sweet Nanna tho... They is forged of iron and grief. Strong and protective o'their youngins... She knew what that man wanted from me, an' she wasn't bout to let it happen."

"What did she do?" Wally asked, bitting his knuckles as he put his legs up to his chest.

"Put the knife through his back. She pushed him so he wouldn't go an' fall on me, oh 'course, and that basket well about saved my life cuzz it was damn well padded and didn't so much as wake me when it hit the ground."

"Holy shit..."

"Now, that might sound a little extreme to yous, but I trust Nanna's judgement." Norman began once he noticed the horrified looks on his coworker's faces. "That man woulda taken me somewhere no one could'a gotten me from, an' she wasn't 'bout to lose anyone else to them creeps. Nanna was smart, and Nanna was hard workin'. She buried the bastard where he fell, an' planted a tree t'remember it too. I got to put a swing on it when it grew big enough to support the weight."

"Where were they going to take you?" Sammy finally asked, once he realized no one would do so. "The man?"

"Hm, well I don't know exactly. But she did say it was where my Poppop grew up, so I know it wasn't a good place." Norman frowned. "They did bad things to him, made him messed up in the head an' dangerous. Nanna saved me from endin' up the same way... Don't care if it wasn't the right way t'do it, them folks don't deserve no pity if they go stealin' babies from their cribs t'do god only knows what."

"Well... For what is worth, we're glad your nanna saved you Norman. You're a gem." Susie smiled which got the much larger man to chuckle.

"How's that for a story then? Anyone steppin' up to top it off?"

No one seemed to have anything that quite matched the energy of this... What should he call it? Cultist kidnapping story? It certainly sounded that the man was some underground cultist if he was taking babies to indoctrinate, or whatever...

The blond watched, saw no one step up to the challenge, and then remembered.

"Well, it may not be as bad as getting snatched away. But I do recall a rather peculiar set of events from before I moved to New York with my father." He began, the band members snorting and whispering among themselves that it was probably something stupid. He glared their way before looking at Norman who gestured for him to go on.

"Floor's all yours Sammy."

"Right." He thought back, way back when he was 10. Just a year prior to his mother's death. It was all a little foggy but the more he concentrated on what his father had told him about that night, the less his explanation made sense once correlated with his own memories. "I didn't exactly grow up in the city. Not until I was 11 that is... I actually lived in a cattle ranch for a while."

"That explains why you call us sheep." Johnny laughed.

"No, I call you sheep because your job is to follow me, you damn goat." Sammy snarled back at the interrupting organist.

"Ouch." Jack winced.

"Either way, as a child living with a father who raised cattle for a living, one can expect that I was often tasked to help with a few of the animals. Mainly cleaning the pens and, if I was particularly lucky, shearing the sheep." The sheep, he confesses, had been his favourite. They were dumb and cute. "My father usually dealt with the larger animals. When this event occured, he'd just bought a big healthy heifer. His ornery old bull had covered our best breeding cow but she'd not been having calves."

"Was she called Bessie?" Wally grinned.

"The name of the cow isn't of importance!" Sammy rolled his eyes. "It was Felicity by the way."

"My mistake."

"Either way, my father was a breeder, so his breeding female not producing offsprings was a big deal. I was a kid so I wasn't particularly interested if Felicity had issues, I just liked watching her when she had little calves. They were the cutest thing right after the baby lambs." Sammy carried on "The new heifer, Clarabelle, arrived that day and immediately the bull was put to working. My father thought That'd be the end of his problems... An easy fix. Except it wasn't..."

"She sterile?" Norman asked.

"Oh I wish that had been it. I was 10, had seen animals in plenty of states from sickness or wild animal attacks. But never had I seen a cow turned inside out, other than in a damn butcher's..." Sammy shuddered. He could still remember it... Going outside to get the eggs like his father had asked, and just finding this massive dead heifer with no skin on her body. His mother had said he'd screamed like the devil himself had been before him.

"Oh god..." Susie gagged slightly. "That couldn't have been nice..."

"It wasn't. I was freaked out and my father was furious. Clarabelle had been an expensive purchase. And she wasn't the only casualty." Sammy shook his head. "The pen was wrecked, the bull was in better state but no less dead, and poor Felicity must have run into whatever butchered them both because she had a massive wound on her hind. Every animal was spooked out of their minds and even our sheepdog wouldn't come out of the house. Peed himself when we tried coaxing him."

"Did ya find what did it?" Shawn asked.

"No, we couldn't find anything that explained it." Sammy carried on. "No tracks, no trails of blood, nothing. The pen was just ruined, like it had been splintered apart, and Clarabelle looked to have just... I don't know how to explain it. Pop? Like a balloon?"

"I figure your father wasn't too keen on going' about business after that?"

"He wanted compensation, but you can't exactly put the blame on anything if you can't even find a cause." The music director sighed "We eventually just decided to call it quits on figuring out what the hell happened and went on with our lives. But then things just got... Weird."

Strange lights at night, bizarre noises, and horrific night terrors. Sammy's father had lost his patience when he'd found their dog's remains and called the authorities.

"We were all on edge, unsure what was going on at the ranch, and losing animals every night. My father called the cops, saying someone must be playing some seriously messed up joke to terrorize us. He'd made a lot of enemies with his attitude over the years, so I wouldn't have been surprised..." He trailed of, beginning to feel goosebumps as he recalled the final night of these strange occurances. "And then one night I saw something strange out of my window. Stranger than anything else."

Everyone was eager for the conclusion, he could tell. Taking a deep breath, he recounted what he'd been a witness to.

"I wasn't sleeping well, no one was, but I just couldn't settle in bed that night. It felt too warm in my room so I got up to open a window." His 10 year old self had always struggled with the latch on his window, but not that night. That night it opened without a fuss. "I saw... A figure. Out in the fields. Cast in weird green light that I couldn't put a source to. They were tall, and I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, but I assumed man because there wasn't a hair on its head... I just stared, and it looked to be staring back. Next thing I know, I'm outside in my pajamas, staring up at this pitch black figure... Taller, imposing, faceless. No eyes, no nose, no mouth... And yet it felt like it was glaring hatefully at me. Frustrated, angry... It pointed at the woods and I don't... I don't know what it wanted and I was just a scared kid."

He gulped heavily as he recalled how oppressive everything had felt.

"Again I blacked out, but this time awoke inside to my mother fanning me. My dad was yelling at the cops and it was morning." Sammy frowns "Yelling at them to get that damn thing off his property, and to fuck right off since they were so useless at their damn job."

A soft amen from a member of the writer's department. Followed by a chuckle from another one.

"My throat was raw, and when I tried to ask what happened, my mom told me they'd found me outside at the edge of the woods, screaming until my voice went. Screaming about wanting out of the woods. Screaming about wanting to go home... Screaming that nothing here was good to eat and that I was going to die... I don't recall doing it, and my father said I'd probably had a nightmare of some kind. A fever dream even, since mom had been trying to cool me down for a good reason." He bit his lip "It's odd, I'd just fallen ill overnight and everything was fuzzy... I asked why the cops were here, and my father said when he'd gone to get me he'd spotted a weather balloon of some kind in the woods. The cops were there to take it away."

Everyone stared, confused and trying to figure out how these events connected. He gave them a shrug.

"I have no idea what was going on, so don't ask. I was 10, animals were dying weirdly, and I got so sick all of a sudden that I started sleep walking and hallucinating demonic figures. No one ever said anything about the weather balloon in the local paper either, so I don't even know what to think of that." He leaned against Susie "It was weird, but it stopped. Still that thing kept appearing in my nightmares for a while... It faded with time but it bothered me while it was still fresh in my mind."

"Sounds like aliens." Wally pips up.

"No such thing." Bertrum laughed at the suggestion. "Just a bunch of vandalism, fallen governament property, animal attacks, and a child's overactive imagination."

"No, I'm serious! Stuff like that happens in farms all the time! Stuff no one can explain..."

"Wally, there's tons o' things none can explain in this world already." Norman pointed out. "I'm not sure what sorta thing Sammy might o' stumbled upon as a kid... But little green men don't sound plausible."

"Oh come on, ain't it obvious? Cows gettin' killed, the strange damages? The fallen thing in the woods? The spooky figure? The one person who no one would believe being chosen to see the alien? Then the cops just swoopin' in and covering it up? Happened just the same to my uncle Paul!"

"What I saw wasn't little or green. Don't make it another one of your outlandish tall tales." Sammy grinned, enjoying how much Wally was puffing up.

"Bite your tongue! It ain't a tall tale!"

"Sure it's not."

"Boys don't fight... Because I've got one heck of a story that'll make Norman's and Sammy's feel like child's play!" Susie cut in, with a devilish grin of her own.

And so the night carried on, with more stories to be shared. All the while Sammy laughed and listened, content with the situation.

Although... He did still wonder what he'd seen out in the field. Surely it couldn't have been extraterrestrial.

Hm... Yes, surely not. Just a bad dream and some sick prank. Had to have been.

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “Final Run” [ 2.12 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows) || S2 Tag || Official Page

CURTAIN CALL – The complications surrounding Lucas’s presence at Adams reach a climactic pitch. Jack makes one last desperate maneuver. Riley and Isadora orchestrate an opposition, but true help comes from an unlikely ally. Someone says goodbye to AAA.

72 Minutes (21K words) || No content warnings apply.

[ ← We’ll Be the Stars ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ The Sun Will Rise → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

The bustling streets of Manhattan, familiar as we’ve come to know them over the last two seasons. It’s the calm tranquility of Central Park; the humble exterior of Chubbie’s diner. The streets surrounding Adams Academy for the Arts, less traffic than usual on a Monday morning.

It’s home, for all intents and purposes. It’s the place we’ve come to know as familiar, as safe, a place to curl up and stay for a while. Yet there’s an uncertainty in the air, a tension that can’t be named but that permeates every formerly comfortable atmosphere. The sounds of the city are muted, feeling distant and far away.

It’s home, but it’s no longer safe. There’s a threat, imminent, and the way things are as we know them might be destined to come crashing down.

Jack, loudly: This is wrong!

INT. SCHOOL BOARD OFFICE - DAY

JACK HUNTER is pacing the office of EVELYN RAND, in a heated debate with another school board member. This is JEFFERSON DAVIS GRAHAM, an older, old-fashioned type who plays by a dated playbook. He seems unmoved as Jack goes head-to-head with him, remaining neutral in a way that demonstrates poise but also lack of compassion. It’s easy to be level-headed, because he simply doesn’t care about the details.

They’re arguing fiercely about the Bradford case, now a school board issue since it’s gone public. Evelyn listens carefully to both sides, seated at her desk and processing the arguments. It’s hard to tell what way she’s leaning -- one of her great strengths as head school board member.

As far as Graham sees it, this issue is a mess for no reason with a simple solution -- remove the problematic entity, give the paying student the spot. What issues could possibly arise from more money being poured into a school? Besides, if it gets rid of a troublemaker, then even better.

But Jack fires back that it’s not about money. It’s the principle of the thing. What they do in this situation will set a precedent for the rest of Adam’s existence as a private institution.

Graham thinks Jack is being ridiculous, which is odd considering he’s always admired his level head and authoritarian approach. This whole thing is particularly ironic, given the student who ended up at the center of this case.

Jack: Ironic? I fail to see what’s so --

Graham: You used to hate this boy, Jackson! You think I don’t recall how often you’d come into this building seeking advice or just looking for a place to lament how you were saddled with this Lucas James Friar?

Jack grimaces, looking away. Graham continues on, making his point.

Graham: When you allowed this delinquent into your school in the first place --

Jack: He is not a delinquent --

Graham: It was only after much debate and counsel from the people in this directorate, including yours truly. And do you remember what I told you then, Jackson?

Jack, quietly: That’s not what this is about.

Graham: I told you don’t bother. So he’s a sob story -- there are ten kids just like him on every block in this city. You take him in, you take on that burden, then you’ll have to deal with it. And boy, did you. The way you used to complain --

Jack: That’s not what this is about!

Graham: So guess what, this should be good news! You’ve been given a golden opportunity to turn back the clock, to take the advice of your elders and make the smart decision. Let them take the problem off your hands, take the money, and move on!

Jack snaps that it’s not about what choices he made three years ago. This is an issue of integrity, and it’s about the students above all else. What does it say if a wannabe student with a huge paycheck can just oust another student? That’s not how Jack wants his school to be run, regardless of how much money it brings into their pockets.

Evelyn finally speaks, cutting both gentlemen off. She claims they’ll have plenty of time to debate this on the counsel floor -- she’s taking the decision out of Jack’s hands. Considering the matter has gone egregiously public and is causing more trouble than it should, the school board will vote on the issue instead.

Jack does not seem pleased by this development. Graham agrees, nodding curtly and allowing himself out. Evelyn grows a bit more sympathetic, expressing to Jack that he still has the chance to make his case. He just needs to make sure it’s good enough to get the right amount of people on his side.

Jack, determined: I will.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Love Runs Out” as performed by OneRepublic || Performed by Jack Hunter

The heavy instrumental opening settles upon us, accenting Jack’s exit from the office. Evelyn watches him go, expression still difficult to discern.

EXT. SCHOOL BOARD BUILDING - DAY

Jack emerges from the building, taking a deep breath. Then he launches into the opening verse, jogging his way down the steps. He’s walking with purpose, not wasting a second as the clock ticks down on Lucas’s fate at AAA -- and the fate of the school itself.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - MONTAGE - DAY

Then Jack is truly on the move. A montage of transitions shows him making his way all around town, doing small press interviews and meeting with school board members for lunch or coffee. He’s putting in favors wherever he can, making his case, shaking hands and running up and down the island to gain favor.

Any bit of traction he can, every little bit helps.

On the bridge, Jack comes to a slow stop outside one of the buildings in the financial district. He tries to catch his breath, distracted by the newspapers on display at a local stand.

The Bradford case is still there, front page news. The Bradfords themselves have now taken up a bulk of the page space, but that school portrait of Lucas is still tucked amidst the story. It seems to stare at Jack, reminding him of everything he’s fighting for. The integrity of it all, yes -- but the personal reasons, too.

So Jack takes off again. Another whirlwind of meetings, of sleepless nights, running and running himself into the ground.

He’s going to take this case down, if it’s the last thing he does. He’s going to keep Lucas at AAA -- or else die trying.

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Class is assembled for the final week, all of the A class except Lucas present. HARPER BURGESS and SHAWN HUNTER have taken front and center, leading a discussion about what this final week is going to look like.

First things first -- the elephant in the room. Most of them have read the Friar-Bradford story for themselves now, and Harper and Shawn give them all the information they have at present. This includes the development about the school board getting involved -- more or less, they will be holding a “trial” at the end of the week to determine whether Lucas will be asked to leave the school in the midst of this “scandal.”

The class is not happy to hear this news. RILEY MATTHEWS is stunned, unable to believe it. The techies are downright livid, considering one of their own is on the chopping block -- and their leader at that.

Nate: This is bullshit!

Shawn: I’m not going to argue with you on that.

Dave, dumbstruck: They can’t just take Lucas away.

Most of the performers agree this whole thing is stupid, and Maya acutely points out the grander question that permeates this case.

Maya: So, what? Can anybody just take our spot if they bid enough and dig up enough dirt? What does this mean for us?

A bit of a selfish perspective, but valid. Harper states it’s a bit more complicated than that, but how all of this will affect how AAA operates remains to be seen. One thing is certain, though -- whatever happens will set a true precedent for years to come.

That aside, Shawn explains that all of this is part of the reason they’re opting to do solo, private performances for final projects this year. They know there’s a lot going on, and a one-on-one, low-stress environment for a final performance feels like the appropriate move. They can sign up on the sheet on Harper’s desk.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

ISADORA DE LA CRUZ is marching through the halls, teeth grit and eyes blazing. She tries her best to ignore the chatter of other students as she goes, overhearing bits and pieces of their commentary on the Lucas situation.

No one has seen him since the trial element broke, and many of them figure he just won’t ever come back. He hates it here anyway, and the case the opposition can build against him is so easy to make. A few students even say good riddance, not caring about the implications either way.

Isadora forces herself not to engage, continuing her journey across the school.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

She arrives in the office, demanding that ERIC MATTHEWS help her. She wants to know what she can do in regards to the case against Lucas. Anything. She’ll do anything.

Unfortunately -- and it truly seems to pain Eric to say it, although he hardly seemed surprised when Isadora spoke -- there’s not much they can do.

Isadora: See, you’re always saying that. Why are you always saying that?

Eric: Isa, believe me, I understand where you’re coming from. Do you think that if I knew a way to fix this situation, I would be sitting here twiddling my thumbs? If it could help Lucas, and Jack --

He cuts himself off, shaking his head. He pulls it back together, Isadora backing off a bit in terms of her intensity. This isn’t Eric’s fault, and she knows that. The last thing they need is to start turning on one another.

For now, this is something they just have to let the adults handle, and Eric can vouch that Jack is trying his damnedest. But as Isadora points out…

Isadora: No offense, but when have adults in power ever done anything right?

Fair… fair. Eric shrugs, wishing he could say something more constructive. But for now…

Isadora huffs, storming out.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

ASHER GARCIA and DYLAN ORLANDO are also on the move, racing their way through the auditorium. They’re calling for Lucas as they go, refusing to sit idly by and wait for him to show up and searching wildly for him instead.

They sprint their way up the stairs to the booth when they don’t find him anywhere else, Dylan taking the steps two at a time.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

Dylan launches himself into the space first.

Dylan: Lucas? [ jogging further in ] Lucas!

Asher rushes in after him, allowing him to look deeper in the space. But there’s not much to investigate, and it’s more than clear Lucas isn’t present. Asher takes to searching the drawers and storage spaces instead, looking not for Lucas himself but rather his belongings.

He grows more worried the more he digs around. All of Lucas’s usual things are gone -- his snacks aren’t in the drawers, his supplies aren’t on the shelves.

Dylan: He’s not here. [ nervously ] Ash, he’s not here.

Asher: None of his stuff is here either.

Asher slams the drawer shut, getting to his feet and running a hand through his hair. Dylan looks at him sadly, dread washing over them.

Dylan: Do you… I mean, do you think he already -- ?

What? No. No. Lucas wouldn’t go without saying goodbye… but the expression on Asher’s face is just uncertain enough to convey real concern. The possibility hangs in the room, dominating their reality for a heavy moment.

Lucas, off-screen: What are you guys doing in here?

Dylan’s eyes widen, looking towards the door. Asher whips around to find LUCAS JAMES FRIAR, standing there with his backpack and eyeing them as if they’re the odd ones in this situation. Like nothing is out of the ordinary.

But it is. It is, and Dylan sprints past Asher to barrel Lucas with a hug. He’s surprised by the sense of urgency, awkwardly patting Dylan on the back until he lets him go.

Asher: Are you okay? Harper told us about the school board thing in class.

Lucas: Oh. Glad that’s spreading like the plague.

Dylan: What do you want us to do? What’s the game plan?

Lucas, plainly: Nothing. There is no game plan.

For what it’s worth, Lucas is acting very calm about this whole ordeal. He idly finishes collecting the sole remainder of his things, putting them in his backpack. Only that fact doesn’t feel comforting -- in fact, it adds a sense of uneasiness.

Dylan and Asher exchange worried looks, then Asher asks what’s going on. They need to brainstorm, they need to discuss. If they put their heads together --

Lucas: There’s nothing to discuss. [ matter-of-factly ] I’m leaving Triple A.

Just like that. No fanfare, no fight. Lucas has already accepted it, assuming it’s the new reality.

Dylan and Asher stare at him, dumbfounded. They stay frozen as Lucas scoots past them without another word.  Their fearless head technician, scrappy and proud and always willing to fight when it truly matters, has put up the white flag.

He’s surrendered, no more fight left to give.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Riley storms into Jack’s office. She doesn’t wait for an invitation, all composure and demure persona shot to hell. She fiercely claims there is no way they can remove Lucas from Adams.

Riley: It goes against just about every ethical principle, for one -- and what makes this Bradford girl so damn special that she can just swoop in and take someone else’s spot? And why? Just because she can throw money at it?

Jack: I know.

Riley: This place wouldn’t run without Lucas. We all know it. He is the backbone of the techies, and he contributes more tangible things to this school than probably the entire performer class combined.

Jack: Riley, I know that.

Riley, hysterical: He belongs here just as much as any of the rest of us. This is his home! He doesn’t deserve to -- he matters!

Jack agrees with her -- obviously, he does. And he’s doing absolutely everything he can, but that’s not enough to placate Riley. Not when the stakes are so high, and they’ve proven time and time again that adults can’t be trusted to do anything.

Riley: Oh, you’re going to handle it? The same way you handled the AAAC? Or the Into the Woods vandal, or the blatant abuse --

Riley’s voice cracks, on the edge of tears. She forces herself to keep it together, gripping the back of the chair across from Jack’s desk and dipping her head down. Jack takes the hits, unable to argue back and honestly not sure he wants to. Riley is right, after all. All of her concerns are his concerns, too -- that he’s not going to be able to fix it.

That he’s going to fail again, in a moment when it really matters.

She takes a deep breath, searching for an alternative where there are none. Grasping at straws, offering everything she has.

Riley, fragile: I’ll leave.

Jack: What?

Riley: Take my spot instead. I’ll go upstate and live with my mom, and Missy can take my spot. Then he can stay. [ tearful ] Right? I’ll go, and he -- he can stay. Take me instead.

Jack frowns, and that’s enough to signal that it’s not an option. A tear slips down Riley’s cheek, which she wipes at hastily. He explains that unfortunately, the board is going to take advantage of this public spotlight to set a precedent either way -- and that narrative has come to include Lucas, willingly or not. It’s not as simple as a spot anymore.

She’s just a student. There’s not much she can do.

Riley shakes her head, fumbling back and escaping from the room before she embarrasses herself by crying in front of him. Jack rises from his seat and considers going after her… but figures it’s better to leave her alone. He doesn’t know what else he could do anyway.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Riley pushes out of the main office and into the atrium, grateful that classes are in session and no one else is roaming the halls. Her eyes are still glassy, and it’s not going to take much to tip the scales.

In fact, all it really takes is a glance towards the main staircase. The same place she first locked eyes with Lucas what feels like forever ago -- when things felt so different. Before she really knew who he was, before anything made sense.

With Lucas, things make sense. And soon enough, these halls might very well exist without him. She can’t imagine a version of her world where he’s no longer in it.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “My Man” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Riley Matthews

Riley delicately starts the powerful ballad, encompassing the entirety of her emotional journey with Lucas in a few simple lines.

What’s the difference if I say “I’ll go away?” When I know I’ll come back on my knees someday

She cautiously starts making her way through the halls towards the auditorium, growing more emotional and passionate the deeper in she gets.

For whatever my man is, I am his Forever more.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Riley takes the soliloquy to the stage, nothing but her and a spotlight to accent the performance. It’s reminiscent of so many of her former power ballads (“Rose’s Turn,” “On My Own,” “She Used to Be Mine”), only this one hits with the rawness of pure certainty. There’s no more wondering what exactly she feels about Lucas James Friar, and there’s no point in trying to reason with it.

And the flashbacks interspersed throughout do a good job of supplementing her case. The rest of the performance up to the last 30 seconds is laced with memories, driving the point home just how deeply the two of them have come to not only know one another, but care about each other. Walking through the Christmas tree farm with the snow; Riley’s first dance lesson during culture swap week; playing basketball; their moment in the teacher’s lounge; handholds in 112 and 208; sitting together in the courtyard to escape everything else; finding refuge in the booth.

When she sings “when he takes me in his arms, the world is bright, alright” at the swell, of course focus shifts to the Jacobs gala kiss.

It’s all of it -- it’s everything. They’re not perfect, far from it, but Riley can’t fathom the possibility of letting it all go. She came to Adams specifically because she was looking for a place to belong, and she found it… just not in the school.

The last flashback is Lucas looking up at her after telling her who she is when she sings sounds like the real her, someone truly worth knowing, which then finds back to Riley belting out the last rendition of the chorus. The lyrics “for whatever my man is, I am his” are searing with conviction, Riley totally committed to their truth.

Eyes shimmering with tears, she rounds out the performance with a level of gusto the divas could only dream of. She’s out of breath when she finishes, almost collapsing back into tears.

Thankfully, something snaps her out of it. Applause.

Riley lifts her head, startled. Stunned that someone was listening -- terrified for a moment that it’s the same person who pulled this move almost two years ago.

But it’s not Lucas. Isadora finishes her claps as she makes her way down the aisle from the house entrance, telling Riley it was a nice performance. Definitely emotive, there’s no doubt about that.

Riley lets out a resounding sigh, dropping down to a sitting position on the edge of the stage. She wipes at her eyes, Isadora reaching the front of the auditorium. They share in silence for a moment, Isadora propping her elbows on the stage.

Isadora: It’s true, then? [ looking at her ] You really love him.

What a strange thing, to hear it stated so casually. Riley takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes glued to the seats. Then she nods, releasing it.

Riley: Yes. [ softly ] Can’t remember when I didn’t.

Isadora nods, absorbing this. Another pause.

Isadora: I wasn’t sure what to think. After the whole Confessions thing. I mean, I always thought you two were… I didn’t know what to make of it at the time, but I knew it was there. I’m not an idiot. [ a beat ] Then all of that happened, and all this doubt got thrown in the mix. I’m not good with doubt.

Riley closes her eyes, trying to stop the tears. She takes another calming breath. Isadora doesn’t interrupt her, continuing to speak and giving her the time she needs.

Isadora: But it still just seemed… I know Lucas thought it was true, because I think he wanted it to be. He gets so defensive, you know, has all these barriers up. These hoops he jumps through just to keep expectations low, to keep people a safe distance away. You broke through that, and then when things got complicated and doubt got involved he just… believed it. Because it was safer that way. If you never make yourself vulnerable, then you can never get hurt. I know that better than anybody. So I trusted his judgment, but… I don’t know. It didn’t seem right.

Isadora shakes her head, thoughtful.

Isadora: Now, I’m pretty convinced. [ with a dry laugh ] It sounds ridiculous, and I hate this school for making me this way, but it was in the vocals. You can’t sing about someone like that and not mean it.

True enough, especially on this show. The truth of the sentiment settles over them for a long moment. Riley huffs, shaking her head.

Riley: We can’t let them do this, Dora. We can’t let them… we have to do something.

Isadora locks eyes with her, matching her intensity. A whole new storm of potential brewing between them… perhaps this fight isn’t as hapless as it seems…

INT. AAA - LIBRARY - DAY

CHARLIE GARDNER is at a table in the corner, reading through the latest article on the case. He chews his thumbnail as he scrolls through it on his phone, obviously disturbed by it.

Farkle: You catch my cameo?

Charlie lifts his head, FARKLE MINKUS sliding into the seat across from him. He taps the phone, propping his feet up on another chair.

Farkle: I think it’s like eight paragraphs in or so. They mention current Adams junior Farkle Minkus, recently returned to the school after a stint in rehabilitation for attempted suicide. In their eyes, it’s just more proof of how the students at Adams aren’t cut out to handle it.

Charlie, disgusted: That’s sick.

Farkle: Maybe. But if I’m being honest with myself, sounds like exactly the kind of arguments I would’ve made only a year or so ago. Entitlement is one hell of a drug.

Charlie: You weren’t this bad. You weren’t like this.

Farkle: You’re so sweet, Chuck. But flattery will get us nowhere. At least in this situation.

Charlie frowns, putting his phone down. He chews his lip, wondering aloud what the hell they’re supposed to do about this. Everyone tells them they have no power, that it’s out of their hands, but that doesn’t seem right. There has to be something they can do.

Farkle considers, then shrugs. Far as he sees it, the fact that they care at all is the first step. Most people don’t even make it that far. After that... 

Farkle: My brother Ezekiel is really big on studying activism. His stance on it is pretty clear. Lots of people can claim they care, can claim they’re an activist, but few people actually do anything when they have the ability to do so -- even things as simple as speaking up. Now, I don’t know how much activism my brother really does, so he could just be the pot calling the kettle black. But I think his perspective makes sense. The most important thing anyone can do is to make the active choice to help someone else. Even when it might impact them adversely to do so -- especially then.

Food for thought. Not a solution to the issue at hand, but maybe it could be. They just have to find the way in which they can do something.

INT. AUDITION HALL - DAY

ZAY BABINEAUX is backstage, gearing up for his callback for the off-Broadway production. It’s of West Side Story, although with some fresh twists on it as to be expected for something small-scale and new.

Maya is there with him, hyping him up before he goes out on stage. She gives him a pep talk, although some of her points aren’t exactly helpful.

Maya: And if it doesn’t pan out, don’t think about the fact that we could also potentially all be kicked out of Triple A at the drop of a hat. Put that out of your mind.

Zay: … it wasn’t in my mind until now!

Oh. Well, whoops. Maya gives him one pat and a swift break a leg, zipping from backstage to go back in the audience. Zay grounds himself, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders.

He marches onto the stage just as Maya returns to the house, sliding into a seat next to Isadora. Both of them give him encouraging smiles, the casting panel eyeing him interestedly.

Zay introduces himself, and explains that he’ll be auditioning with a routine to the Act II dance display, “Cool.” Once they’ve taken their notes, the creative team signals for him to begin whenever he’s ready.

He takes a deep breath, centering himself.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Cool” as performed by West Side Story Original Cast Recording || Performed by Zay Babineaux & Dylan Orlando (feat. AAA Junior Techies)

When he opens his eyes again, he’s completely in character, taking on a harsher edge. The lights shift on the stage, reflecting the intensity of the number.

Zay: You wanna live in this lousy world?

Abruptly, the scene flips --

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

To the AAA auditorium, where the techies are assembled. They’re brooding, the stage dark and stylistically lit. It feels like darkness around them for miles, reflecting their current state. The crew of them are bristling with energy, angry and frustrated and ready for action.

That is, except for Dylan. He’s upset too, certainly, but he knows that doing something reckless isn’t going to get them anywhere. He’s learned that the hard way -- and in the absence of their leader, he has to step up to keep everyone else from making a rash decision.

Dylan: Just play it cool.

Nate: I wanna get even!

Dylan: Get cool!

Dave: I wanna bust!

Dylan: Bust cool!

Asher: I wanna go --

Dylan holds a hand out, taking his boyfriend by the shoulder. Holding him back from going scrappy, as he so often does. They lock eyes, Dylan’s gaze urging him to stay calm.

Dylan: Go cool!

The number stays split between the techies and Zay’s audition, transitioning effortlessly back and forth. While Zay’s dancing is of course a highlight, the most impressive aspect is the techie crew’s range. They’re truly channeling the same energy of the original number, a gang of some sorts fuming after the loss of their de facto leader and scrambling to reorganize.

In the section after the first minute, Dylan is going around keeping everyone from losing their cool. He tells Nate to cool it first when he kicks at one of the set pieces on display, then has to talk Dave down when he starts to grow too angry (“Cool it, Davie, cool it, cool it…”). Dave laughs it off, as if it’s nothing… and then he kicks over the stack of acting blocks, descending into delirious, heartbroken laughter (“Pow!”). Jade rushes over to pull him back from doing any more damage, basically having to restrain him.

As the song escalates into the dance break it’s famous for, the number becomes more evenly split between the two sets. It’s easy to forget how competent and talented the techies are as a group -- but they are. This performance is “Thnks Fr Th Mmrs” but turned up to eleven, with far more stylization and actual raw anger as the motivator. Their choreography isn’t nearly as difficult or seamless as Zay’s, but that’s all part of the fun contrast -- they’re messier, more erratic, but just as sharp and energetic.

Dylan, as the unexpected second-in-command, is particularly compelling. Considering how happy-go-lucky he usually is and the energy the techies usually have, the whole rendition… feels chilling. A manifestation of grief, above all else.

INT. AUDITION HALL - DAY

Zay gets the last chorus, about 4 minutes in. He finishes up his audition, giving a curt little bow.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The rest of the techies have dispersed, Dylan left on stage seemingly alone. He saunters his way back into the shadows… although his own cool facade is coming apart. He bites back his own frustration and anger over the situation, letting it out in the smallest of symbolic ways with the final “pow” of the number.

He holds up a fist as he does so, as if he might do something -- but Asher is there. He catches his hand and meets his gaze, pulling him back down to Earth. A heavy moment passes between them… and then Dylan drops his hand.

Asher keeps a hold on it as he drifts back into the darkness, slowly pulling Dylan along with him until the stage is empty.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Lucas is back in the chair across from Jack, although the mood is a way it’s never been before. It’s not easygoing and comfortable, but it’s not tense and antagonistic either. Something about it is deflated, all of their usual fire as they volley back and forth burnt down to cinders.

That’s not for lack of trying, however. Jack is fully invested as he describes what the trial process is going to be like, explaining that he’ll be with Lucas the whole time and will be doing most of the talking. All Lucas has to do is show up and present himself appropriately, and he’ll do his best to handle the rest.

It’s Lucas who is bringing down the energy. Not that he's doing anything, exactly, but that’s the problem. He’s complacent, nodding along to what Jack has to say but not really engaging with it. Already convinced it’s a lost cause, and appearing surprisingly okay with it. Not thrilled, but resigned. Braced for the inevitable.

It’s so not Lucas, and this frustrates Jack. He tries to get him to talk with him about it, for them to brainstorm and see what else they can come up with, but Lucas isn’t budging. He plaintively states that Jack has wasted enough time stressing over him in the last three years.

Jack: … I’m not giving up. We’re going to fight this, Lucas. It’s not over yet.

Lucas: It’s not worth the energy.

Jack: Of course it is. Any student’s well-being is worth the effort --

Lucas, pointedly: But I’m not worth your career.

It’s the way he says it that really hits. Firmly, but softly, with this… ghost of a smile. Like he recognizes Jack’s persistence, appreciates it for what it is… but already knows it’s futile. And certainly not worth tanking his own well-being to combat.

Jack stares at him, lost for words. Wanting there to be an easy solution, a checkmate move he can make to prove this whole thing isn’t pointless.

Asher, pre-lap: He’s completely given up.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The techies are occupying the stage, in the midst of another brainstorm session. The whiteboard is out, but it’s completely blank. The mood in here has deflated as well, all of that anger in their imaginary grieving process having simmered down to inertia.

Their figurehead is gone, and so it seems is their spirit.

Dylan: It was just wrong. For him to look at us and just tell us… for him to just surrender. It’s like it wasn’t even Lucas.

Jade: He’s really not even trying? He’s just going to let it happen.

[ Asher nods. The entire mood deflates even further. Nate shakes his head in disgust. ]

Nate: And there’s nothing we can fucking do about it.

Riley, off-screen: Maybe not.

All of them perk up, looking towards the dressing room hall. Riley enters with Isadora, the two of them marching over to join the techie circle. Lucas may think the situation is fruitless, but then, he’s never been the optimist. If they follow his example, then they will fail. That’s guaranteed.

Isadora: Lucas has never been about fighting for himself. He’d do it for any one of us, but never for himself.

Riley: But that doesn’t mean we have to give up too. And we may not have any direct power in our hands, but there is one thing that not even the Bradfords can buy off of us.

Dave: Our vital organs?

Isadora: Close, Dave. Very close.

Riley: Our voice.

Nate scoffs, but they’re not finished. The way they see it, the only thing they can do in this situation is speak up, and loudly, that none of them are okay with it. This isn’t just about Lucas, after all -- if he goes down, then every one of them are at risk of being the next domino to fall. They’re aware the school has never been about camaraderie, but now more than ever is the time to band together as a united front.

So they’re going to protest it, boldly and publicly. Riley has already started brainstorming logistics, and Isadora has some thoughts on how they can get the media involved so it actually has some heft. But they’re going to need help, a lot of help… including Lucas’s most loyal crew.

Dylan is already on board, ready for a scrap and a riot or two. The rest seem eager as well, but Nate does make one solid point.

Nate: Okay, so say we do this. Great. That’s what… ten people standing outside Adams shouting about how unfair everything is? That’ll be real compelling. Especially since we’re his friends.

Asher: Unfortunately, Nate is right.

Nate: Thanks.

Asher: This is a good plan, but it needs numbers. And we definitely don’t have pull with the rest of the student body.

Jeff: We could maybe get some of the underclassmen techies in on it, but...

Riley: That’s great. You all focus on that, and Isadora will delegate the rest of the preparation tasks. [ a beat ] Leave the rest to me.

Vague, but promising. The room is suddenly buzzing with energy again -- the invigorating sense that all hope is not lost. The techies exchange determined glances, then look to Riley. All in, whatever happens next.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Charlie opens his locker, checking his phone and surprised to find a missed call and voicemail waiting. He lifts it to his ear to listen, shock taking over his features. It’s Principal Jackson of Haverford Prep, calling to explain that they’ve reviewed his application and are happy to offer him admission to their elite senior class.

In all of the insanity, Charlie had completely forgotten about the audition. He honestly didn’t think he would even get in. Now that the possibility has been laid down in front of him, he doesn’t know how to process it.

HALEY FISHER and CLARISSA CRUZ come to join him, immediately asking if everything is okay based on his expression. He covers, clearing his throat and claiming he’s just… thinking about his final performance. Trying to figure out what it should be.

They don’t question him, launching into brainstorming ideas. Charlie lets the moment pass, shutting his locker and following them down the hall.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Riley and Isadora confront Eric, pitching him their strategy for a student opposition to the school board trial. They’re methodical, meticulous, and clearly prepared. He can’t possibly say they haven’t thought things through, and any action is better than inaction.

So he’s on board. He agrees to be their faculty sponsor, allowing them to congregate on school grounds and do whatever processes they so please within a reasonable limit. But he emphasizes that this will really have to be on them -- he’ll be busy playing emotional support the day of the trial so he won’t be able to help them much.

Isadora: Don’t worry about it. We can handle it.

She says it confidently, exchanging a resolute look with Riley. They know exactly what they’re getting into, and they’re doing it no matter what.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Which is the energy Riley takes to the A class, rallying with them during class. Harper gives her full control of the front of the room and doesn’t fight for attention, more than happy to let this fight take precedence.

And damn, does Riley make a compelling case. She highlights all the reasons they should be willing to help drum up support, starting with a compassion-based approach before swerving into more tactful psychology. She reiterates what Maya basically said when they heard the news -- if this goes through, it will set a precedent that endangers all of them.

Sarah: And why should I care what happens to Lucas? All he’s done is cause trouble.

Asher: Maybe because you wouldn’t have had a successful production for the last three years if he weren’t here, Carlson. Not that anyone would’ve missed your forgettable background vocals.

Ooooh. Asher is not here to play around this week, and the class derives the limited amusement they can from it. Sarah doesn’t argue further, but Riley elects to actually acknowledge her point.

Riley: Lucas is the current target, yes, but the point is that it could’ve been -- and could be -- any one of us. If you can’t bring yourself to care about him, think about how it would feel if it were you next. Or your best friend. The person you cannot imagine Triple A without.

Heaviness settles over the room. Maya and Farkle exchange a look -- they know that fear all too well. Haley looks to Clarissa, the latter giving her a soft smile and taking her hand. Dylan squeezes Asher’s knee.

Riley: Best friend or not, we are all students at this school. For whatever reason, we were admitted, and we’ve earned our place here. And we cannot be bought. That’s something all of us should be able to get behind, details irrelevant.

There’s a long pause. Then YINDRA AMINO nods from her seat on top of one of the desks.

Yindra: Friar has never been my favorite person, but Riley is right. In this case, if it’s one of us, then it’s all of us. [ a beat ] I’m in.

Nigel: Ditto.

Slowly, the junior A class comes together. Maybe to save their own hides… or maybe because amidst the chaos, they’re some weird version of a family.

Riley, raising her hand symbolically: All in?

Dylan and Asher don’t hesitate. Zay’s hand goes up. Isadora’s. Maya, with a sharp smirk in Riley’s direction. Even Farkle. The only one who doesn’t seem one hundred percent sold is Charlie, his trained aversion to avoid trouble strong as ever. But his hand goes up all the same.

Riley looks at all of them, shining with pride and a little emotional. This, she can work with. This battle is far from over -- it’s only just beginning.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Yesterday - Anthology 2 Version” as performed by Paul McCartney || Performed by Lucas James Friar

Meanwhile, Lucas is gearing up to give his last performance at AAA (ironically, also one of his first). He’s casually seated on the edge of the stage with his guitar, actually taking the final assignment seriously. Might as well, if it’s the last one he ever has.

The Anthology 2 version specifically captures the unpolished, offhand quality of the performance, Lucas going through the motions of figuring out what key he’s going to be playing in and explaining it to Shawn and Eric. Then Harper cues him whenever he’s ready, and he launches into the song.

It’s unrehearsed, and full of mistakes -- including the bit where Lucas mixes up the wrong lyrics and kind of laughs at himself -- but there’s something really charming about it too. For the first time, Lucas seems weirdly at peace as he performs, knowing that none of it matters anymore. He can just sing, and it doesn’t mean anything more than that.

The faculty are not so at ease with the circumstances. Harper and Eric are both respectfully listening, doing well at keeping their own emotion in check. Shawn is not so skilled, doing his best to stem whatever tears might possibly be coming by clearing his throat and half-hiding behind his hand.

Jack is a couple rows behind them, watching the performance with a stony expression. Hating that it’s come to this, that he can’t even enjoy the rendition from the student he never thought he’d see willingly perform. Hating that he’s decided this is the final run without consulting him.

Lucas wraps up the performance, silence settling over the auditorium for a long moment. Harper manages a smile, nodding.

Harper: Thank you, Lucas.

Lucas returns the nod.

INT. MINKUS HOME - HOME OFFICE - NIGHT

Farkle pokes his head into STUART MINKUS’s office, asking if he has a moment. Although the past would suggest otherwise, Stuart assures him he always has time to spare for him.

After bringing up the subject of the Bradford case, which Stuart has naturally read up on, Farkle questions if they would be able to donate to Riley’s and the A class protest efforts. Not a chunk of change, just enough to pay for the supplies and such that they’ll need to make their materials. He doesn’t want Riley to have to pay out of pocket, and Stuart is always saying they should contribute to worthy causes.

Hard to argue with that. Stuart agrees, happily stating that Farkle can charge it to the family card. Still, he has to wonder…

Stuart: Isn’t this Friar boy the one who used to chase you around the auditorium and terrorize you every day?

Farkle: Yes, well, therapy has illuminated my own faux pas in that situation. And the past is the past, so.

So it is. Farkle thanks his father again, starting to head out when he hesitates. He turns to ask one more question, asking Stuart if he would’ve done the same thing. Like, if Farkle were Missy, wanting so badly to get in this elite school and they could pay through the nose to make it happen, would he go so far as to push another student out to do it?

Stuart seriously contemplates the question, intending to give Farkle a worthy answer. He admits that while it would be tempting, as one of the greatest joys as a parent is giving your children everything they could possibly want… he likes to think no, he wouldn’t. He’d try his best, but he wouldn’t want to give Farkle an advantage at the expense of someone else.

Fair enough. Farkle seems satisfied with that, nodding and offering a smile and good night as he heads back into the hall.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Lucas joins GRACE FRIAR on the couch, the two of them enjoying a humble snack before bed. Lucas apologizes for all of the chaos this whole story has caused, especially if any of it has blown back on her. She brushes it off, but admits that it’s for the best that his father is out of town right now. Hopefully it will all blow over by the time he returns.

Ah, yes, his father… slowly, some of Lucas’s resigned demeanor begins to crack. Although he tries to come off aloof, he asks what’s going to happen if he does end up removed from AAA. Is he going to have to drop out? Or worse, is he going to go back to Quincy?

Grace looks at him, mustering a weak smile and patting his knee.

Grace: We’ll figure out a plan. It’ll be fine.

But it’s clear from how timid her voice is and the expression on her face that she has no plan. They have no alternatives, and saying it’ll be fine doesn’t erase the fear from her features.

Lucas mirrors the half-hearted smile, nodding in agreement. It only crumbles when he looks away, staring at the floor and clenching his jaw to keep his expression neutral.

For all his perceived quietude, he might be pretty scared too.

Charlie, pre-lap: I just wish there was more I could do.

INT. GARDNER HOME - KITCHEN - NIGHT

Charlie is seated at the kitchen table, ELEANOR GARDNER listening as he tells her all about what’s going on with their school right now. Riley’s plan is about the only active opposition they’ve got, but he’s still not sure if he should go through with it or not. He wants to, because he really wants to help take a stand… but he’s nervous, too. If things go south, it definitely won’t look good on his records.

Although Eleanor is sympathetic to Lucas’s plight, she claims Charlie is right to be cautious. It’s his future on the line as well, and he shouldn’t be giving that up just because his classmate already fumbled theirs. In fact, since Lucas sort of got himself into this situation, she thinks it might be wise for Charlie to mind his own business and let it be.

He was on the same page with her there for most of it… but putting the blame on Lucas bumps him. He questions what she’s talking about, and she points out that if you do the crime, then you do the time. Lucas has far from a clean record, and if this is the cosmic punishment the Lord has laid down for him then far be it for them to try and fight it.

Charlie: Isn’t it our job to help people who have fallen though? I thought the whole point of faith was to uplift, and extend forgiveness --

Eleanor: It is. Honey, it is, I’m not saying otherwise. But mistakes have consequences, and punishment must be served.

Charlie: So you’re saying I should do nothing. Even though I clearly have something that I could do, even as small as showing up.

Eleanor: I think you should do whatever you feel in your heart is right. Just remember… there are some people in this world who cannot be saved. You’ll have to decide whether this classmate of yours is worth it or not.

Suddenly we’re putting worth on a teenager again. Charlie frowns, not sure what to make of the conversation.

Then Eleanor takes it a step further, shifting her attention to him. She makes a face and affectionately adjusts his hair, clicking her tongue.

Eleanor: This is getting quite long, isn’t it? We should make you an appointment to get it cut. [ innocently ] Don’t want to give people the wrong impression, hm?

Wrong impression of what? The comment is meant to be protective and loving, but it rubs Charlie the wrong way. He continues to frown as his mother walks away and heads for bed, slowly shifting into a scowl.

He pushes from his seat, heading towards the stairs.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Charlie is already dialing his phone before he even shuts the door, pacing impatiently while he waits for a response. When they pick up, his gaze is intent.

Charlie: Riley? What’s the plan? [ resolute ] Tell me what I can do to help.

As the rocking guitar rolls in…

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Predict A Riot” as performed by Kaiser Chiefs || Performed by AAA Juniors

School is no longer for education but for strategizing, the classroom having been transformed into a headquarters for Riley’s protest mission. They’re working under a tight timeline with the school set to be their battleground in just a couple days, so everyone is hard at work.

Throughout the montage, A class students jog up and edit items on the massive whiteboard. Cross off action items, add new ones, adjust the countdown they have in the top right. The vocals float over the scenery, not a performance but more so a battle cry.

Asher and Dylan are in charge of poster design, leading groups of students in creating them with expert efficiency. They hold up a few here and there for Riley to approve, some humorous while others hit the nail right on the head.

Jade is leading a crop of workers in making custom tee shirts for the event, Clarissa keeping track of all the new “orders” they get for a shirt on a spreadsheet. NICK YOGI floats around with his A/V club camera, capturing the whole process for historical posterity.

Isadora makes her grand move, getting media pull by using the De La Cruz card. She negotiates on the phone with them one-by-one, claiming she’ll give them exclusive details on how the mother-daughter dynamic is developing… if they pay her one back and cover this story as well.

After another successful call, she jots it down in her notebook before shifting her focus. She pulls up her text chain with Valerie, letting her know what’s going on and keeping her updated on all the details. It’s clear that she let her know about it yesterday and Valerie responded telling her to keep her posted, but she’s yet to respond since then.

Riley is drawing up agendas and maps for the day, from where they’ll start to where they’ll end. Farkle and Charlie are brainstorming with her, offering suggestions or walking through the plot step-by-step. Maya and Zay are keeping a working copy of the “performance” schedule, including speeches, chants, and renditions planned throughout the afternoon.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Sarah and DARBY WINTERS run through the halls, putting their notorious gossip skills to good use and spreading the word. More and more students from all grades make their way towards the black box, looking to contribute in whatever way they can.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Riley is in the midst of a discussion about where the march should start when her phone rings, distracting her. She claims she has to take it and tells her crew she’ll be right back, darting into the hall.

Farkle: I’m just saying, I don’t see how having everyone blockade the streets around Triple A with their vehicles is such an unfeasible idea. I could contribute the Minkus helicopter if we’re really short on bulk.

Zay: Please tell me you realize how ridiculous you sound. If not, I’m not sure I have the heart to burst your bubble.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Riley picks up the phone, TOPANGA LAWRENCE on the other end of the line. Riley warns her that this isn’t really a good time, as there’s a lot going on at the moment.

Topanga asks when isn’t there, but she cheerfully assures her she’ll be quick. She just wanted to check in about whether Riley had given any more thought to the upstate move. If they do want to consider the art schools up there, after all, they really need to get a move on…

Riley holds her breath, confronted with the decision unexpectedly. But glancing over her shoulder towards the black box, where her entire class is so hard at work with her leading the charge… suddenly the answer becomes crystal clear.

Riley: I can’t.

Topanga: What’s that, dear? You have to speak up, you know I’m always telling you that.

Riley, firmly: I want to stay in Manhattan, mom. I want to stay at Triple A.

Silence. Riley fidgets under the cold reception, but she doesn’t back down. She opens her mouth to speak again but Topanga beats her to it.

Topanga: Are you sure?

Riley: Yes. I really appreciate it, the offer, and everything you think you’re doing for me. Really, I do. But this is where I need to be right now. It’s where I want to be. I can’t leave everything I have here. [ a beat ] Especially not now.

More silence. It feels like it might go on forever… when Topanga states it’s fine. She doesn’t sound pleased, but she will respect Riley’s choice as she said she would. She just hopes this doesn’t mean they’ll never see one another again.

Riley: Of course not --

Topanga, passive-aggressively: I just hope you’re making the right choice.

Once upon a time, that tactic may have worked on Riley. But she’s learned a lot since then. She’s learned to stand up for herself, to raise her own voice -- when she does, that’s when she’s really worth knowing.

Riley: I am. Trust me.

Well, nothing left to say, then. Topanga says she’ll call later, but Riley knows that might be a while so she can lick her wounds. They say goodbye and Riley leans against the wall, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

She looks back towards the classroom, alive with action and purpose. A movement she created.

Then she jumps back into the fray, ready to really make a difference.

EXT. AAA - DAY

A fancy town car pulls up outside Adams. A glossy pair of shoes step out from the backseat, and MISSY BRADFORD emerges as the driver helps her out of the car. She exchanges a proud smile with her father CARSON BRADFORD, the two of them making their way up the steps towards the entrance. Already, board members in suits are milling about the building.

Trial day has arrived, and with it the future of AAA.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

Jack is finishing setting up the lecture hall for the proceedings, directing faculty to finish the arrangements. It’s decorated quite similarly to a courtroom, a long string of tables at one end of the room set up for the board members. Opposite that, a table is set up for the Bradfords and their legal team, and a few feet away are seats for Jack and Lucas at their own table.

Up in front of the projector screen in the corner, a podium stands, typically reserved for the lecturers who use the space. Today, it’s a witness stand.

Evelyn Rand greets Jack as she enters, one of the first board members to arrive. She commends him on being willing to use their space, and for organizing such an efficient set up. That being said, she does hope the proceedings won’t create too much of a disturbance for the students.

Oh, don’t you worry about the students, Miss Rand…

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

The students are creating a disturbance all their own.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Come Together” as performed by The Beatles || Performed by AAA Juniors (feat. AAA Students)

Riley kicks off the eerie call-to-arms, walking towards us down the street from the march starting point. Soon enough Dylan and Asher fall into line behind her on either side, harmonizing with her. On the first “come together,” Isadora and Zay arrive, and they sing the chorus right to the camera.

So the march continues, picking up more and more students along the way until there’s a full-fledged rally making their way towards the school. Thanks to Isadora’s media influence, reporters and other passersby join in on the crowd as well. By the time they arrive at Adams, a crowd of at least 200 people has gathered to protest.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

Missy is just in the midst of explaining to the school board that her lawyer should be here any minute -- just as ANNE MARIE WINTHROP walks through the door. She apologizes for the delay, as there were lots of unexpected traffic jams on the way over.

Jack: Oh, hell no --

Before Jack can make a move either way on this brand new reveal -- a dirty move on the Bradfords part, hiring his ex-girlfriend -- Eric swoops in and grabs his arm. His eyes are wide.

Eric: You’ve got to see this.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Jack and Eric make their way to the doors, stunned by the scene that has formed on the steps of the school. The other school board members are getting a good look too, the stunt definitely having gotten their attention.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Outside, as the Beatles tune shifts into the guitar solo, Riley takes to the section of the steps they’ve designated the “stage” and takes the megaphone from Maya. She begins her opening speech to her fellow students about why they’re there today -- because they’re the true heart of AAA, and they refuse to be bought.

Riley: Who are we?

AAA Students: The people!

Riley: Do we matter?

AAA Students: Yes!

Dave: Hell yeah!

Riley: And what matters more -- the people, or a profit?

AAA Students: The people!

Riley: No matter who you are?

AAA Students: Yeah!

Riley: No matter what?

AAA Students: No matter what!

Damn right! More media is arriving to cover the surprise protest, surprising the likes of Jefferson Graham as he arrives for the trial. He seems disdainful as he pushes his way through students and avoids reporters, heading for the stairs.

Lucas also arrives in the midst of the spectacle, dressed as best as he can manage in dark jeans and a slightly wrinkled button down. He even managed to comb his hair after an entire year of dissing the notion. He’s stunned by the crowd and the rally and the sheer presence of such a fuss, absolutely baffled.

Lucas, under his breath: What the fuck --

As if on cue, reporters zero on him. There he is! The infamous Lucas James Friar! They start to swarm him, asking a million questions that he has no idea how to handle or answer.

Luckily, Eric comes to his rescue. He appears in the crowd, reaching out and taking his arm.

Eric: Hey, I got you. Come on, come on!

Lucas follows Eric, letting him push their way through the assembly and towards the school. When they get to the entrance and he can finally see the view from above it all, Lucas scans the chaotic scene and finds Riley standing at the core of it all.

They lock eyes, only for a moment, across the steps. Then Riley takes a deep breath, turning back to the people and leading their war cry.

Riley: People over profit! We won’t be bought!

AAA Students: People over profit! People over profit!

The crowd is downright uproarious. Eric guides the dumbstruck Lucas through the doors and into the school, leaving the movement to Riley.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

The sound of the protest lowers to a quiet din as they step into the school, but it’s impossible to ignore. Lucas and Eric meet with Jack, discussing what the hell is going on outside. Sure, it’s a lot, but it definitely can’t hurt their case.

Jack: Trust me, I don’t think the Bradfords are planning to play nice.

Eric claims it doesn’t matter -- they have their case, and they know they’re on the right side of AAA history. Now, it’s just time to convince everyone else.

Jack gives Lucas a bracing pat on the shoulder, asking if he’s ready. He nods, and the three of them make their way to the lecture hall.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

From inside the hall, all of the uproar from just outside the school is silent. Attention is rapt as Evelyn thanks everyone for taking the time to be in attendance, explaining the process for how the proceedings will operate. They will be going mainly off of character witnesses and discussing the logistics of the enrollment process at Adams, all to determine whether junior student Lucas James Friar can keep his coveted spot -- or if someone, such as Missy Bradford, has the right to demand it for herself.

There are about nine school board members present, including Rand and Graham. It’s near impossible for there to be a tie or hung jury in this situation, so this should wrap by the end of the day. One key board member who gets focus is HARRISON YANCY, another older gentleman who is eyeing Lucas with cautious distaste.

Still, they only need to convince five. If five people can see the grander implications of this situation, then Lucas won’t be going anywhere.

Evelyn requests that each of the cases make their main argument as opening statements. Anne Marie rises first, laying down the perspective of the Bradford prosecution. As she starts to speak, highlighting the favoritism and unprofessionalism that permeates Jack Hunter’s enrollment procedures and running of AAA, Lucas frowns and leans over to whisper to Jack.

Lucas: Isn’t that your --

Yes, Lucas. Yes, it is. Jack merely shakes his head at him. Not now. Anne Marie maintains her professionalism, delivering the opposition with cool authority and seemingly no personal bias attached. Lucas does not deserve his spot at Adams, and there are plenty of well-intentioned and talented individuals -- such as Miss Bradford -- who deserve their chance at his spot. Especially since they can afford to pay for it.

Jack rises to give their case, explaining that this is an issue that should have never escalated to this sort of ordeal. They have their enrollment procedures, which have never been an issue for the over 50 years that AAA has existed. Lucas is not a mastermind but a strawman, a scapegoat the Bradfords are using to get their way by digging into the personal life of an 18-year-old student who has put his time and effort into the community here -- just not in such obviously visible ways as some of his peers. Missy glances at Lucas from her spot at the table, eyeing him with mild interest.

Then Jack emphasizes the precedent this decision will set, the much larger implications and overarching impact removing Lucas to suit the needs of a demanding pocketbook might have.

Certainly much to think about on both sides. It’s time to hear from the masses.

The sequence passes in a montage, different characters taking the podium as Anne Marie and Jack call them to speak on Lucas’s time at Adams. One is HARLEY KEINER, called in by the Bradfords to discuss the time Lucas spent living in the technician’s booth -- a misuse of school property. Harley admits that’s true, and he took the steps necessary to stop it, as did Jack.

But then when Jack gets the chance to question him, Harley points out that Lucas never purposefully misused or damaged any equipment. He was always quite respectful of the more serious items in their shared spaces, and while yes, a desk or house seat here and there might have suffered vandalism, Lucas isn’t the only student who has messed with school property.

When CORY MATTHEWS is called to speak on Lucas’s academics, he admits to the Bradford’s points that Lucas does have an iffy attendance record. However, his grades are still sharp, some of the best in the junior class. Better than half of the performing students, as it were. This seems to be a good point for the defense… until Anne Marie points out that if his grades are so good, then he’d presumably be fine at any school -- least of all a school for the arts when he doesn’t care about the arts.

Additionally, Anne Marie manages to twist Cory’s words. She gets him confused or contradicting himself, effectively making his somewhat helpful testimony rather useless by the end. Jack shakes his head, frustrated.

However, it’s not a complete loss. They manage to come back when Yindra takes the stand, acting as the character witness for the Junior A Class. While Anne Marie expects it to be a pretty easy win -- they definitely have the impression that the performers are not fond of Lucas -- Yindra throws a curveball by actually carrying the opinion that Lucas should stay.

Yindra: Don’t get me wrong, Friar is obnoxious. And yeah, most of us spent the first two years of our time here wondering what he was even doing here. But he’s great at what he does, and he’s a major part of the reason anything gets done around here. When he shows up, he shows up, and our productions are good enough evidence of that. I don’t know if he got his place here in the same way the rest of us did, but he’s certainly earned it since that time.

That’s a good point. The board takes careful note, and as they’re transitioning for their next witness Jack tells Lucas that things are looking good. There have been some unexpected turns, but they’re not out of the running by a long shot.

That is, until Anne Marie calls her next testimony. WYATT LIVINGSTON enters from the hall, back after a year to finally get his revenge on Lucas James Friar. We don’t even have to see the testimony to know it’s not going to be good.

Lucas gives Jack a wide-eyed look as Wyatt takes to the podium. What are they going to do about that? Anne Marie asks if Wyatt will be honest in his account, and give an accurate portrayal of Lucas during their time at AAA together. When he agrees, she tees him up, wondering if he has anecdotes he could share with the school board about Mister Friar.

Wyatt looks right at Lucas, a smug smile ghosting over his lips.

Wyatt: Plenty.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Following a couple more witnesses, the trial breaks for lunch. Lucas is pacing outside the lecture hall, almost bumping into Missy as she emerges to depart for a quick lunch.

The two of them size each other up for the first time, Lucas obviously not taking kindly to the entitled bitch gunning to take his spot. Missy, on the other hand, doesn’t seem at all disappointed to meet him. In fact, from the way she’s looking him over as she thinly apologizes for all the fuss this has caused, saying she has interest in him might just be the tip of the iceberg.

Missy: I’ll admit, I don’t think photos do you justice. And I didn’t expect things to get so very complicated. All the things everyone is saying about you, all the conflicting accounts… fascinating. Isn’t it? Things might have gone differently, had I known our chosen subject was so… provocative.

Lucas is not impressed. He remains stone-faced as Missy’s father beckons her, off for their relaxing, carefree meal.

Jack and Eric emerge from the lecture hall, joining Lucas in the midst of their conversation. They agree that in opposition to the surprise of Wyatt, they’re going to need an equally compelling testimony to throw them off. Eric claims he’s already on it, brewing with an idea.

Wyatt exits from the lecture hall, sauntering his way through the halls of the school that so easily dropped him like a king. He nods to Lucas with a smirk, cocky with long-awaited victory.

Wyatt: See you out there when they dump you on your ass too, Friar.

Lucas scowls, nearly lunging on instinct. But Jack pulls him back, restraining him and firmly stating that’s exactly what Wyatt wants him to do. The last thing they need is to give the opposition any more fodder to play with in their court.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Meanwhile, the student protests are well on their way. People have guitars, are waving their home-made signs proudly, listening to the speeches and performances while lounging around on the steps and on the lawn of the school. It’s somewhere between a social march and like… Woodstock. It’s a snapshot of the 60s youth movements, only 60 years later.

Nearby, Isadora is fielding questions from reporters. She’s doing an excellent job considering her usual aversion to the spotlight -- Valerie would be proud!

A couple of seniors are at the megaphone at the moment, giving Riley a chance to regroup. But she’s far from relaxed, unable to take her eyes off the school as she sips water. Dylan and Asher wander over to join her, commending her for staying hydrated and wondering how she thinks everything is going.

Outside? Fine. Inside… she has no idea, and that’s clearly what they all actually care about. It’s a minimal relief when Yindra steps out from the atrium, jogging down the steps to come and join them after her testimony. Riley asks how it’s going in there, and she informs them that they brought Wyatt back as a character witness.

Riley, Asher, and Dylan: Wyatt?

Riley: How is that an unbiased opinion?

Asher: Oh, so he really wants to get punched again?

Dylan, softly: [ taking Asher’s shoulders and rubbing them soothingly ] Easy there, bird bones.

Yindra: Believe me, it’s ridiculous and we all know it. But the school board doesn’t, although hopefully some of them are aware of Wyatt’s own history at Triple A.

Otherwise, it’s hard to say how the tides are shifting. But the stuff they’re doing out here is good regardless. She heard some of the board discussing it while she was on her way out. They’re making a point, if nothing else.

Across the lawn, some of the performers are discussing the importance of the protest despite their apparent nonchalance as they recline in the shade. Maya is laying with her head in Farkle’s lap, boldly declaring that although Lucas is the worst ninety percent of the time, she might actually miss him if they decide to oust him unfairly.

Before Farkle can respond, Eric comes over to join them. He asks if he can borrow Farkle for a moment, Maya offhandedly complaining that he’ll be taking her pillow, but letting him go. He gets to his feet, walking slowly back towards the steps as Eric engages him in conversation.

He gets right to the point, pitching that Farkle consider being their last character witness for the trial. It’s a big favor to ask, and Farkle seems confused by the request. Partially because it’s a lot of responsibility to take on, but also…

Farkle: How could that possibly be a good idea? Lucas and I have hated each other since we met.

Eric: I know. They know that too, so you getting up there at the podium and stating that he deserves to stay?

Could be a checkmate. A risky gambit, that’s for sure, but maybe exactly the counterpoint they need. If Farkle, who was tormented by Lucas in their bewildering hate war of three years, can testify that he still deserves his place here…

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Still, it’s a lot to ask. Eric is aware of that, especially if Farkle doesn’t really believe it. He would try to sell him on the other aspects to the case he obviously agrees with, like the precedent thing, but more so Eric understands that it might be too much to ask. He’s not going to try and bribe him into it.

Eric: I don’t want you to feel pressured to do so. I know how complicated your dynamic is, and you certainly don’t owe him anything. I wouldn’t want you to get up there and say something you don’t mean.

Farkle: Do you think it’ll make a difference? Like, for real?

Eric, honest: I don’t know. But it’s basically the only idea I’ve got left. [ patting his shoulder ] Do whatever you’re comfortable with. I just knew that if I didn’t ask, I’d regret it. I appreciate you considering it, either way.

Eric backs off, leaving him to ruminate on it. Farkle stands frozen in the hall, slowly succumbing to contemplation as the world around him begins to dim and fade away.

In some ways, it feels like his entire rebirth act has been leading to something like this. Does he want to play it safe, staying comfortably in the background of the cause -- or does he put himself right in the line of fire? Does he pay forward an act of kindness to someone who has given him nothing but grief -- or does he take the opportunity to get final cosmic payback? Or, in an effort to truly look out for himself as he’s always known, does he do absolutely nothing?

The time has come to decide if he’s truly going to repent, or if he’s going to run yet again.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Monster” as performed by Frozen Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus

If there’s a song where lyrics hit pointedly this episode, this would be it. Farkle grapples with all of the uncertainty and confliction he’s felt about his own sense of self since the end of last season -- is he doomed to be a monster, acting selfishly and reactively as everyone casted him? And if he is nothing but a monster… does he kill it?

All this pain, all this fear began because of me Is the thing they see, the thing I have to be?

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

As the march bit starts, we throw between the protests going on outside with their chants and Jack reconvening with key board members. The “no harm comes to him” belongs to Jack, obviously speaking on behalf of Lucas.

Farkle is the focus again on the second verse, dramatically making his way through the halls as he tears himself up over the two parts of his identity.

Was I a monster from the start? How did I end up with this frozen heart? Bringing destruction to the stage Caught in a war that I never meant to wage

He bursts through the doors to the dressing room hall --

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

And ends up on the stage, nothing but a spotlight illuminating him as he settles into the softer bridge. When he speaks to his father, Stuart appears on his right and watches him wisely. There for Farkle to seek wisdom from… but not able to give him the answer.

Father, you know what's best for me If I die, will they be free?

Then he turns to his left, where JENNIFER MINKUS is watching him with love and pride. He seeks counsel from her too, wondering whether his silence will be just as destructive as his active mistakes of the past.

Mother, what if after I'm gone The cold gets colder and the storm rages on?

Suddenly, the truth seems to hit him.

No! I’ve got to stay alive, to fix what I’ve done --

Farkle whips around and marches back through the wings, determination taking over his features. He travels through the darkness…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

And pushes back out into the hallway for the final verse, reaching his decision. Maybe he’s a monster -- maybe he’s always destined to be broken, selfish, a little bit off and a little bit wrong. But when opportunities are presented to him to make a difference, he can choose to make a difference. He can choose to speak out, even when it’s complicated. Even when it’s not in his own self-interest.

As he sings the final resounding note, we cut between him stomping his way towards the lecture hall and belting in the spotlight center stage. It’s powerful in the same way his performance of “Santa Fe” was, only this time it’s not defeat provoking the emotion.

Farkle looks to the school board members standing outside the lecture hall, everyone reconvening for final testimonies. Then he pushes through the doors and marches inside, disappearing behind them.

Jack is rushing back to the lecture hall, nearly bumping into Anne Marie. They both apologize until they realize who they’ve bumped into, growing colder. Jack claims this is a low move, and a bit hypocritical considering how she’s always talking about professionalism. Anne Marie scoffs, rolling her eyes.

Anne Marie: It’s just a job, Jack. They presented a case that I happen to agree with, and paid me a fair amount of money for my services.

Jack: Oh, I’m sure they did.

Anne Marie: It’s not personal, Principal Hunter. [ shortly ] Unlike you’re so convinced everything is.

She pushes through the doors, leaving him behind. Jack forces himself to take a deep breath, cooling his temper and stepping in after her.

EXT. AAA - DAY

While the war rages on, Zay is distracted by a call on his phone. He waits for a voicemail, although he recognizes the number as the same one who gave him the information about his callback. More likely than not, this is whether or not he actually got the part.

He moves away from the crowd, taking refuge down by the bottom steps. Releasing a sigh, he holds his breath when the voicemail comes through and raises the phone to his ear to listen.

After a long moment, a huge grin spreads across his face. He almost falls over, reaching out for the banister by the stairs for support.

Zay: Holy shit. Holy shit!

Charlie notices his outburst, jogging down the steps and asking him what’s going on. He stammers out half an explanation that makes absolutely zero sense before Zay manages to find the words, telling him that he got the part. He got the role in the Off-Broadway production.

Charlie’s jaw drops. He takes Zay’s shoulders.

Charlie: Oh my God. [ happier ] Oh my God!

In the excitement, they embrace, and it’s not the end of the world. In that moment, it’s just a moment of pure joy, shared between two good friends. When they pull apart, Charlie has a million questions.

Charlie: Well, what’s the role? What’s the schedule like? When are performances going to be?

Zay: I -- [ breathless ] I don’t know! I still have to accept the role.

Charlie: … okay? Okay, well, do it! Call them right now!

Although he’s clearly thrilled, Zay claims he can’t just do that. When Charlie asks why not, Zay sort of shrugs and states that he just needs to think about it. You know, gotta consider all the factors before making a decision like this. Charlie stares at him like he’s crazy, wondering when the hell Zay Babineaux suddenly became hesitant.

Then realization washes over him. He did that. Zay was never an overthinker… until they got together. When Charlie became a priority, and dragged along all his baggage and conditions and trained hesitancy with him.

Zay isn’t paying attention to his change in demeanor, still smiling as he glances down at his phone. He’ll probably accept it, of course, but… it’s just an honor to have gotten an offer. Crazy, how quickly things can change like this. Isn’t it?

Charlie, blankly: … crazy.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

Farkle has taken to the podium, Lucas looking less than thrilled at his presence. How he could possibly help his case, he has no idea, and from how flatly Farkle is answering Anne Marie and Jack’s questions it doesn’t seem like he’s all that intent on selling Lucas’s good merits.

Anne Marie isn’t going easy on him either. To her, this sudden additional testimony is a fumble on the defense, and she’s going to milk Lucas and Farkle’s problematic dynamic for everything it’s worth. Although Farkle gives his point about how he was responsible for half of their tangles and certainly acted as a provocateur, Anne Marie still uses it to craft a more unfavorable impression of Lucas.

However, after a certain point, Farkle has had enough. That’s when the tables really start to turn, just when Anne Marie and the Bradfords think his presence is a home run for them.

Farkle: Miss Winthrop -- ladies and gentlemen of the school board -- I’m going to be fully honest. It’s a creed I picked up after my failed suicide attempt, which I know you’re aware of since you elected to feature it in one of your articles.

Lucas, under his breath: Oh, God.

Anne Marie: Certainly. By all means, Mister Minkus.

Farkle: Here’s the read. Lucas James Friar sucks. I think you’ve proven that well enough this afternoon, and I wasn’t even here. It’s not hard to prove -- he sucks. There’s a reason I spent three years calling him “Jackass.”

Anne Marie: Yes, I think we’ve made that quite clear. Thank you --

Farkle: But I suck, too.

Anne Marie: … I’m sorry?

The tension in the room shifts somewhat. Jack raises his eyebrows -- Lucas stares at Farkle, not sure what to expect.

Farkle: I suck just as much as he does. I mean, I’m a fucking monster. [ pausing ] Sorry, is cursing allowed? If not, you can strike that from the record.

Evelyn: Go on, Mister Minkus.

Farkle: Point is, I’m a menace. We all hated Lucas, but everyone hated me too. And my best friend, Maya Hart, she’s an absolute maniac. Cut-throat, calculating, could and would throw me off the catwalk if it would help her career. But damn, is she talented. So am I, in theory. And so is Lucas, just not in the same way. It pains me, I mean, truly pains me to say this, but we would not have pulled off half the things we did in the three years we’ve been here if it weren’t for him and the way he leads the student technicians.

Well. This is taking an unexpected turn. The school board sits up straighter in their seats, leaning forward with interest. Anne Marie glances at them, then back at Farkle, trying to anticipate where this is going and develop a counterpoint. The Bradfords seem just as unsettled as Lucas and Jack -- there’s really no way to determine where this will end up.

Farkle: So yes. Lucas sucks. It’s not hard to prove that. But so do I. So does Maya. So does most of the student body. The way I see it, I think you need to reevaluate what this whole trial is even trying to determine. What credentials are you measuring Lucas against? Because if it’s like… merit or being a good person, then that’s not unique to Lucas James Friar. If you’re deciding whether someone should be allowed to stay because they’re a good person, then the school should just shut down. No one here is perfect, and you could put any one of us in that seat and debate for hours whether we deserve the right to be here.

The board takes this in, murmuring amongst themselves. Evelyn eyes Farkle with keen interest, obviously intrigued by what he has to say.

Farkle: And if you remove that element, well… [ plainly ] Then I’m not sure you’ve got a case at all.  

Okay, now there’s a strong statement. Missy narrows her eyes, not all that fond of this Farkle Minkus kid. He remains impressively calm though, not at all smug as he harpoons half of their case against Lucas.

But Anne Marie is a skilled lawyer, and she’s not going to let this knock her off her game. She waves him off, turning to the board.

Anne Marie: Thought-provoking perspective. [ with a shrug ] But hardly relevant.

Jack: Are you kidding me?

Lucas jumps, surprised by Jack’s outburst. He rises to his feet, leveling his glare with Anne Marie’s.

Jack: This entire debate has been matters of opinion! You can’t just dismiss one important testimony because it doesn’t align with your case.

Anne Marie: Well, I think then perhaps we should at least consider the suspiciously late addition to the schedule Mister Minkus demonstrated. One has to wonder what sort of last minute desperate maneuver… in a school full of actors, a favor or a bribe --

Jack, scoffing: Bribe? The Bradford prosecution is going to lecture the board about bribery?

Well, that escalated quickly. Evelyn regains control of the room before anything more can be said, hurting either of their cases. She urges them to maintain their professionalism, but it’s clear people are heated on all sides. Lucas looks like he’s going to be sick.

Evelyn declares that they will take a ten minute recess, and then come back together for closing statements. She personally feels they won’t need much else after all the other discussion they’ve heard today.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack and Lucas have regrouped in his office, Jack pacing and lamenting the tactics that the Bradfords and Anne Marie have stooped to in this process. This isn’t a fair process, this is a circus, that much is certain.

Lucas isn’t contributing to the vent session. He’s not fired up like Jack, but he’s no longer mutedly resigned either -- the reality of the situation is finally starting to hit him, and that resignation is bubbling into panic.

Lucas: I’m leaving Triple A.

Jack: It’s not over yet.

Lucas is pacing now too, but it’s not strident like Jack’s. He’s fretful, hands shaking, like an animal trapped in a cage. He’s been cornered, and he can’t hold back the fear no matter how badly he tries.

Jack: Lucas, breathe --

Lucas, shaky: They’re going to send me back to Quincy. [ choking on it ] I can’t go back. I can’t --

Jack: Lucas -- hey. Hey!

Jack crosses the room to meet him, taking his shoulders and forcing him to stop. He gets him to look at him.

Jack, fiercely: Listen to me! I am not going to let anything happen to you. Do you understand? Anything!

Lucas stares at him, still trembling.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Eric is rushing through the halls, Charlie running in from the entrance. He tries to catch up to him, claiming he needs to talk to him. Eric states that things are a bit high pressure at the moment, and almost dismisses him, but Charlie pleads his case.

Charlie: Please, Mister Matthews! It’s important.

Eric hesitates, looking at him and contemplating. Then he nods, gesturing for him to walk with him. Charlie jogs to catch up.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Farkle has rejoined the performers, recounting his testimony and how the place basically exploded before he left. Isadora asks if he thinks that’s a good thing or bad, and he honestly has no clue. It’s all so arbitrary anyway, it’s just going to come down to how people decide to vote.

Maya admits that she’s surprised Farkle testified in favor of Lucas. Like, she does get it, but truthfully she’s not even sure she would’ve done the same. Farkle admits he wasn’t either at first, but he knows how much he’s changed in the course of a year. Maybe this time last year, he would’ve made a different choice… but that’s not who he is anymore. And he’d hate to be judged solely on the mistakes he’s made -- he doesn’t think Lucas deserves it either.

Zay nods in respect, giving him a solid low-five. Maya smiles and wraps her arms around Farkle’s, resting her chin against his shoulder in that way that’s starting to become an affectionate habit.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

Back in the proceedings, Anne Marie is wrapping up the closing statement for the Bradford case. It’s obvious that Lucas does not deserve his place at Adams, and someone like her client has a fair argument against the way Mister Hunter runs the school. And Missy Bradford can pay to attend it, so why should she be barred opportunities due to an arbitrary rule? If the counsel views the situation objectively, then there’s a clear sense of right and wrong in this scenario.

Well, no arguing with that last statement. The board finishes taking their notes, Evelyn turning the tables to Jack. He glances to Lucas, who is staring at the table and avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room.

Then he rises, walking around the table and thanking the board for the opportunity to make their case this afternoon. He starts by pointing out this whole situation is inane, considering he did make a decision in this regard that the Bradfords elected to ignore. He believes changing his stance on a rule for a few dollar signs would set a dangerous precedent, especially when it’s at the expense of another student -- regardless of the student. But hopefully, the board can identify that much for themselves.

Jack hesitates, contemplating for a moment. Speaking with confidence, he rounds out his statement.

Jack: Miss Winthrop is correct that there is a clear sense of right and wrong here. One that I feel strongly about, that I know will define my career regardless of the outcome this afternoon. So allow me to make that stance crystal clear. [ clasping his hands together ] Should you decide to remove Mister Friar from Adams Academy of the Arts for something as twisted as this, then I hope you’re prepared to find a new head administrator. Because I would resign and step down from my position, effective as soon as that decision is reached.

A ripple of shock runs through the room. Lucas lifts his head, horrified. The board is stunned by the stunt, not sure how to react -- although it seems as though Evelyn Rand might be holding back a chuckle. Anne Marie and the Bradfords are particularly incensed, identifying the emotional power play for what it is. Not logic, that’s for sure.

But Jack isn’t trying to act like it is. He maintains his professional demeanor.

Jack: That’s all. I’m sure you have plenty to consider moving forward.

Jack returns to his seat next to Lucas, not allowing his facade to crack even a bit. Lucas is still in shock, staring at him with dread. Unable to believe that he would go down on this sinking ship with him.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Isadora finds Riley in the crowd, claiming that the proceedings have wrapped and now they’re just awaiting final verdict. If Riley is going to address the press -- and Isadora clearly thinks she should -- now is the time.

She nods, returning to the spotlight section and taking the microphone from Nigel. Once she’s sure she’s gotten the attention of the media, Riley launches into her final speech of the protest. She reiterates all of the points that they and Jack have been making all afternoon, with that special spark only Riley Matthew can deliver.

Then she claims she wants to address the board, and the Bradfords, directly. She states that they can make whatever decision they choose, that’s obviously out of their control. But if they think they can remove one of their own and this will just go away, then they’re dead wrong.

Riley: This school is built on the power of our voices, and we will never stop using them. [ impassioned ] If you choose profit over the people, then mark my words, you will never stop hearing from the people.

It’s a compelling moment, and the passion with which Riley delivers it makes the threat damn believable. A modern day mockingjay…

Riley is done, but her classmates pick up the slack. The chant arises in the crowd again: People over profit! People over profit. People --

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

In contrast to the riot just outside, the auditorium is hauntingly quiet. All the energy that usually commands it day-by-day is being expended elsewhere, leaving it empty and hushed.

Which is precisely why Lucas is there. He’s seated on the floor in front of the center back section of the house where the techies usually congregate, arms wrapped around his knees. Absorbing the temporary peace and the strange belonging he’s always felt in the auditorium, regardless of how many highs and lows have occurred inside of it.

A door opens from behind him, and Isadora appears at his side a few seconds later. She doesn’t say anything, dropping down next to him and tilting her head back against the section panel.

After a moment, she reaches out and places her hand on his knee. She doesn’t offer anything more than that, but the message is loud and clear.

Asher: Mind if we join you?

Lucas and Isadora look up, Asher and Dylan walking hand-in-hand in their direction. Lucas nods and they settle down across from him, sharing in the silent support. Wanting to be with him in these last moments, regardless of where he goes from here.

Lucas, to Dylan: Heard you were a pretty good captain in my absence.

Dylan shrugs humbly. Asher smiles at him, but someone beats him to a confirmation.

Jade: He was.

Lucas looks to his left, and there they are. Jade, Nate, Jeff, and Dave, also having found their way to him. They join the sit-in without another word, completing the circle. All of them together in solidarity, a complete set for the first time in months.

They sit in the silence for a long time. Then Dave breaks it, releasing a sigh.

Dave: Fucking capitalism, man.

The declaration hangs in the air for a long moment. Then Lucas lets out a laugh -- exhausted, but acknowledging how ridiculous this whole thing is. Taking comfort in Dave’s unique brand of eccentricity, as he always has.

And when it starts, the laughter is contagious. Before long the entire techie crew is laughing, sharing a moment of levity in spite of how heavy the situation feels. Finding reprieve in one another, as they have for the last three years.

Isadora jostles Lucas’s knee, shaking her head as she chuckles. Asher leans into Dylan’s shoulder. Jade hugs Dave’s side affectionately, playfully nudging Nate’s foot away as he attempts to kick at Jeff and Dave across the circle.

Charlie, pre-lap: Say what you want about Triple A, but the best thing about it is the people. Even when they’re the worst.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Charlie is seated across from Eric, speaking with more certainty than he ever has in his office. This time it’s his choice to be there, talking through everything he’s been tossing around in his head for months. He’s in the midst of trying to provide full context for what he needs help with.

Charlie: I know that better than anybody, and that’s part of what made applying somewhere else so hard. Like, why would I leave Adams? Everything I care about is here. Everyone I love is here. [ a beat ] I mean, I know why. I applied because I was scared. At the time, I fucked up, and made choices that hurt someone I love. And I thought the only way to deal with that was to run from it -- because I’ve been doing that my entire life, for as long as I can remember. Running, rather than facing the truth.

Eric listens patiently, giving Charlie all the time he needs to process.

Charlie: The more I think about it, the more I think love in it of itself is inherently selfish. And that’s weird, because love is supposed to be the ultimate virtue, you know? But it’s so dangerous, when you let it get out of control. It’s… it’s looking at something or someone and saying I like that thing so much, I want it all to myself. I want it always, I want it to be mine. And that’s selfish. [ shakily ] And for a person who tries really damn hard to be good, and virtuous, it’s amazing how much of a contradiction I can be. Perfect and polished on the outside, but one crack from breaking to pieces on the inside. Acting like I care about Christian values, about helping others, when it took me way longer than anybody else to determine that even showing up for someone else could be the right choice if it put me in any sort of jeopardy. Being so consumed by this thing that’s supposed to be the most powerful good there is, consumed by love, but somehow twisting it into a selfish thing. Loving but with conditions attached, keeping it secret, holding that love so tightly in my grip that they can’t even remember how to move freely anymore. All because I’m selfish, and I’m a coward. I’m so scared of the truth -- of who I am, the selfishness and… and being gay --

The moment passes without consequence, but Eric doesn’t overlook the importance of the statement. It’s the first time Charlie has openly stated his sexuality, and the first time he’s shared it with someone by his own choice.

Charlie: -- that I’m constantly running, only now I realize I’ve been dragging everyone else along behind me while I do it. I’m running, and running, and they’re the ones getting the bruises and the scuffs and the dirt while I get to maintain my squeaky clean, inoffensive persona. [ a deep breath ] And I don’t want to be that way. I’m done being that way... but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next.

Eric thanks Charlie for sharing all of that with him, and delicately states that he has to admit he thinks he is being too hard on himself. Everything Charlie is experiencing is a pretty universal human sensation, at one point or another. It’s definitely good to recognize you have faults, but to flip the script and make yourself the inevitable villain at every turn won’t help anyone either.

Eric: You’re not a saint, Charlie. You’re human, and part of being human is being imperfect. Making mistakes, hurting others, making the same mistakes again.

Charlie wipes at his eyes, not even realizing he’s crying until the tears are on his cheeks.

Eric: Acknowledging those mistakes is the first step -- and it seems like you’ve mastered that. What matters most is what you do to repair those mistakes, and that just comes down to a whole other series of choices.

Active choices. Choosing to be good, to care about others and help whenever you can. Charlie absorbs this, accepting the tissue Eric hands him with an embarrassed laugh.

All of that aside… Eric curiously asks what Charlie thinks about the Haverford offer. He went out for the opportunity at first because he was scared -- a mistake, it seems, in his eyes. But all that matters is what he does next… so what is he thinking about that?

Charlie lists all the pros and cons he’s been weighing in the last couple months. The chance to start new, to prove himself capable, to try something new and grow in a different way -- versus the home and family he’s built at AAA. The bananas chaos he’s grown fond of, and the people he doesn’t want to leave. Especially that...

Charlie: I started this whole thing because I messed up with the person I love the most, and I wanted to escape the consequences. [ a beat ] But now… I’m still being selfish. Because I thought I was setting him free, letting him go, but somehow I’m still holding him back. It’s like… as long as I’m here, and we’re together, I’m never going to let go of that leash. I don’t want it to be that way. I don’t want to leave, but… I don’t want to let this keep going.

Eric processes this. It’s a tricky situation, that’s for sure, especially while Charlie is in such a harsh emotional place.

Then, a lightbulb seems to go off in Eric’s head. He’s hesitant to speak on it, but Charlie can sense the change in his expression.

Charlie: You have an idea. [ expectant ] What are you thinking?

Eric pauses, still hesitant. Having this conversation with another student seems like a lot to ask… but all Charlie wants is to accomplish something exactly like this. Despite being torn, Eric forces himself to speak up.

Eric: I’m just thinking… no solution will be perfect. I can tell you that with certainty. But if you’re willing to consider it… I think we might be able to solve more than one problem if we work together. Are you good with that?

Silence hangs over them as Charlie contemplates, running through all of the possibilities in his head as he’s so well-trained to do. Then, something in his expression hardens.

Active choices. Helping others, even when it’s inconvenient for yourself. Especially then.

Charlie, with a nod: Tell me what I can do.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

The board has reassembled, Evelyn rising to address the room. It’s so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Missy and her father seem relaxed, prepared for victory -- Lucas and Jack are experts at restraint, expressions neutral and braced for the worst.

Evelyn gives a short speech about how odd and unique this whole experience has been in the long history of her career as a school board member. She’s honestly had an opinion of her own basically since this story first dropped, but as top member of the board she places a deep value in letting each of her fellow delegates get the chance to speak their mind. It’s a principle she highly regards, a precedent she intends to set in stone.

That being said, both cases raised important and interesting points. There’s a lot of subjects raised during discussion today that might warrant more conversation in the future, and because of that it’s no surprise to her that the vote was so closely split.

Lucas grits his teeth, clenching his fist on his knee. Jack gently reaches over and touches his wrist, getting him to unclench his grip.

Evelyn: So, let’s allow this to set a precedent as well. In a 5-4 vote… the school board has voted in favor of Adams and Principal Jackson Hunter.

A wave of surprise crashes through the room. Lucas and Jack are both surprised, watching Evelyn with wide eyes.

Evelyn: A decision was made, and to allow Miss Bradford into the school by the means presented today would set an example the school board ultimately does not wish to support. Lucas James Friar, enjoy your senior year at Adams Academy for the Arts. [ nonchalantly ] This meeting is adjourned.

Anne Marie is disgusted, obviously miffed that emotion was the winning maneuver. Missy looks about ready to throw a hissy fit, and Carson is already placating her.

Lucas and Jack both get to their feet, and for a moment, it seems as though they might do something insane like hug. But Jack settles for a bracing shoulder pat instead, the smile on his face wholly genuine.

Jack: Looking forward to one more year.

Lucas scoffs out a laugh, still stuck in disbelief. He blankly states that he has to go tell the others -- he’s got to tell Dora and Asher and Dylan. Jack nods him onward and lets him go, Lucas disappearing through the doors.

EXT. AAA - DAY

The crowd has grown restless, awaiting any sort of news. Zay has his arm around Riley, comforting her as her nerves start to overcome her resolve.

Dave pushes through the doors, all attention to turning to him. He pauses for a long second, and then pumps his fist in victory when he claims they won. Lucas isn’t going anywhere -- and the people prevailed!

It’s instant revelry. The assembled crowd erupts into cheers, transitioning right into celebration. Zay and Riley hug, the former picking her up and spinning her. The A class performers embrace and jump around. Maya lets out a theatrical war cry.

Farkle and Isadora embrace, only realizing that’s weird until they’re a few seconds into it. Farkle pulls back and clears his throat, Isadora stating she should text her mom the good news. He nods, agreeing that she should do that. She steps away, shifting her focus to her phone.

The last response she got from Valerie was a couple days ago, encouraging her to fight the good fight and to let her know everything that happens. Isadora has given her updates since then, but she sends this update with an excited flourish.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

Evelyn approaches, congratulating Jack on a fight well fought. She had little doubt he would pull through, of course, and she’s always greatly admired his strong belief system... it’s a wonder who that deciding vote came down to…

Still, even in the midst of the celebration, Evelyn has to deliver a caution. She drops her voice down to a murmur, warning Jack that the stunt he pulled today isn’t going to just evaporate. The other school board members who voted against him are not pleased, and there will be consequences for the way he handled it.

Pointedly, Jefferson Graham and Harrison Yancy send a pointed glare in his direction as they discuss amongst themselves. Jack swallows, disappointed but not surprised.

Evelyn: Questions have risen as to how Adams is run, Jackson. [ empathetically ] You need to prepare for a whole lot of change.

Well, that’s pleasant and not ominous at all. Off of Jack’s bittersweet expression…

EXT. AAA - DAY

For how all-consuming the Bradford debacle was the day before, it’s impressive how quickly life returns to a state of equilibrium. The formerly crowded and riotous scene of student protest is calm and clean come Friday morning, the school year scheduled to wrap up as normal in the last couple of days next week. As if nothing happened, like life has proceeded as normal this entire time.

But it did happen. History was made at AAA, and no one is likely to forget it any time soon. As for what happens next…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Farkle is at his locker, getting the chance to clean it out this year. He takes delicate care to put his photos of his friends safely away in the front pocket of his backpack. As Nigel and Yogi pass him in the hall, they offer him friendly pats on the back and the promise to catch him in class. Still a couple performances and classes left to round out the year.

And boy, what a year it has been. Farkle takes in the halls around him, remembering how for a while there, there was a real chance he was never going to come back into these halls. Grateful, it seems, that he’s still there.

Isadora approaches, leaning against the locker next to him. She states how weird it is that so much can happen one day, and then school can just proceed as normal the next.

Farkle: Well, only a couple more days of that. For now.

Isadora: It’s just strange. How quickly things change. Instantaneous, really.

No doubt about that. After a moment, Isadora shifts topics and thanks Farkle for his testimony. She figures it probably wasn’t easy for him to come to that decision, given their history. Obviously, there’s no way to know if it really made a difference… but it was something. He spoke up, in a moment where it might’ve really mattered. Farkle shrugs, thoughtful.

Farkle: You know, this time last year, everything fell apart because I made a selfish move. I was thinking of me, just me, and I sure paid the consequences for that. [ a beat ] A lot has changed since then, but it’s easy to say things have changed rather than prove it. A theory needs evidence to be proven, after all.

Isadora: Naturally.

Farkle: Can’t know for sure without repeated trials, but… I figure choosing to make the choice that wasn’t directly beneficial to me is probably a good sample of evidence. My hypothesis is that things held together because we held together. [ certain ] And I’ll take that conclusion over last year’s any day.

Isadora examines him, a smile that might be described as fond creeping onto her face. Farkle closes his locker, raising his eyebrows at her before leading the way down the hall.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Delicate” as performed by Damien Rice || Performed by Asher Garcia (feat. Dylan Orlando)

Yes, classes are still in session for a few more days, and there are still some lingering final performances to wrap up. Asher performs the ballad as his final project, bending the rules just slightly so that Dylan can be up there with him to back him up. No one tries to argue him on it -- Dylan and Asher are undeniably better together, after all.

Dylan sits behind him on a stool, playing the acoustic guitar. Asher’s vocals are soft, imbued with a sense of peace it feels like we haven’t felt all season. As the other orchestration comes into play, Haley, Clarissa, and Nigel are backing him on the strings instruments for the full effect.

The performance also doubles as the score for the next scene, setting the mood aptly...

INT. AAA - TEACHER’S LOUNGE - DAY

Riley is fighting with the protest signs, attempting to put them in the large closet in the teacher’s lounge for safe-keeping. But they’re hard to handle all on her own, and there’s a lot of them, and only so much closet space. The unglamorous part of an impassioned protest -- the clean-up.

Lucas pokes his head into the doorway, grateful to have found her. He asks what she’s doing and she jumps, just looking at him for a moment. Soaking up the fact that he’s still there -- that he gets to still be there, for at least a while longer. Then she clears her throat, explaining her battle with the posters and signs.

Riley: Eric said we should keep them, for posterity and all that, and also because you never know when you’ll have another student protest. Reduce, reuse, recycle.

Lucas: Sure.

Riley: And I was in total agreement, but now that I’m here actually trying to get them all to stay put…

Lucas: Do you want some help?

Riley blinks. Surprised by the offer, even though she doesn’t know why. She shouldn’t be, not from him.

Riley: Sure. Sure, that would be great.

Lucas comes over to join her, rolling up his sleeves and helping tackle the stubborn protest memorabilia. They manage to complete the task as a team, stuffing it all into the closet and shutting the door firmly to seal it inside.

Riley: Wouldn’t want to be the teacher who opens that at the start of next term.

Lucas laughs, earning a bashful smile from Riley. There’s a lingering moment between them, and then Lucas asks why Riley went to so much effort in the first place.

Lucas: You really didn’t have to do all that.

Riley: I know. I don’t have to do anything. [ off his eye roll ] But of course I did. I wasn’t going to just do nothing.

Fair enough, but not exactly an explanation. When Lucas eyes her expectantly, she sighs, crossing her arms and shrugging. Knowing he can tell there’s more to it, but not sure there’s a way to articulate it.

Riley: It just wasn’t right. Everything they were doing. Putting you on blast to gain something for themselves, exploiting your personal difficulties for themselves --

Lucas: Well, hard to say I didn’t get myself into that.

Riley: But you didn’t deserve it, Lucas. No one deserves to be treated that way, even you. [ a beat, then softer ] Especially you.

That’s certainly a new take. Lucas absorbs the sentiment, holding her gaze. Trying to believe, for the first time, that maybe she’s right.

She looks away first, overwhelmed by the moment. She shrugs her shoulders again, still searching for what to say. The longer she rambles, the softer Lucas’s expression grows.

Riley: And I mean, they were just going to kick you out. And for what? Again, no one should have to worry about something like that, but… I mean, it’s you. And this is your home. [ a beat ] This is your home, and I wasn’t just going to let them take it from you.

Lucas, thoughtful: … I don’t think home is a place.

Riley lifts her gaze, meeting his eyes. Lucas lingers in looking at her for a moment longer, really looking at her… and then he closes the distance between them, pulling her into a kiss.

It takes a moment for Riley to catch up with what’s happening, almost in disbelief. But that only lasts a second, and she initiates the next kiss with double the enthusiasm and zero hesitation.

It’s about damn time.

They get lost in it, Riley wrapping her arms around his shoulders. They stumble a bit and back into the closet door, taking a moment to ground themselves. Still close together, foreheads touching, breathing shallow as they catch their breath.

Riley opens her eyes, taking him in while he’s so close and right there in front of her. Finally in her grasp, after the longest wait in the world.

Then, she laughs. Quiet, relieved, genuinely happy.

Lucas mirrors her smile, looking away shyly. Riley tilts his head back towards her to give him another slow kiss, which he happily accepts.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Dylan finishes out the last few riffs of the song, Asher watching him fondly with his chin propped on the microphone. He plays the last chord, then lifts his head to lock eyes with him. Dylan gives him a loving smile, pride shining in his eyes.

As it should be.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack finishes throwing out the last of the Bradford materials, settling down in his desk chair. He takes a moment to look around at his office… and then releases a sigh. Finally getting to breathe, after holding his breath for what feels like months.

Eric knocks lightly on his door, leaning against the doorframe and congratulating him.

Eric: I didn’t know you were a lawyer.

Jack: Ha ha ha… so very funny…

Eric can’t help but grin. Jack thanks him for all of his help -- he would not have been able to get through it without him.

Eric: Well, don’t give me too much credit. I’m not exactly a legal expert --

Jack: I’m not just talking about that, Eric.

Oh. Well… oh. If that doesn’t sum up how joined their work is, how this place really only runs because of one another… Eric nods bashfully, accepting the compliment. A moment lingers between them, but it’s not heavy. It’s something light, refreshing… something new between them, even if they don’t quite know how to define it yet.

Even still, Jack claims the show must go on. He highly doubts Missy Bradford is just going to let this thing die out -- considering all the trouble she went to this time around, he doesn’t see her giving up the crusade so easily. What baby wants, baby gets…

As it turns out, that’s something Eric wanted to talk to Jack about. He actually may have discovered a different compromise while Jack was going to court… not ideal, by any stretch of the imagination, but… Jack straightens up, curious and concerned.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

The A class is assembled, and it’s pointed just how different the energy in the room feels compared to the start of the year. There’s a real sense of camaraderie amongst them that was never there before, and the mood is light as they all chat before they’re dismissed.

That spirit only brightens when Riley and Lucas come through the door… holding hands. For a second everyone simply absorbs the sight… then Dylan gets to his feet, starting a slow clap. Dave joins in and before long the entire class is sarcastically applauding, Yogi wolf-whistling. Riley shakes her head and bites back a smile as she leads the way to their seats, Lucas flipping the techie crew off as they go.

Harper and Shawn take the stage, genuinely congratulating the class for getting through this hell year. It was tough -- for all of them, as the look Shawn and Harper exchange indicates -- but they survived it. They stretched themselves, they learned some hard lessons, and they grew stronger for it. They raised their voices, and it made a difference. The class breaks into applause again, Zay leaning forward to jostle Riley on the shoulder.

And with that, there’s not much more to say… except it’s a total mystery what the hell senior year will dish for them. There’s one more announcement they need to give… only it’s not their announcement to make. Harper passes the focus to Charlie, gesturing him forward as she and Shawn give him the floor.

Maya: [ under her breath, to Isadora ] I’m still trying to figure out when we gave him speaking privileges...?

The class is obviously at a loss for what Charlie could possibly be about to say. He’s never been one for grand gestures, but he’s up there now, addressing the full room of them. He starts by once again shouting out Riley and Isadora for the effort they put into the protest, and he mentions how inspiring it was to be a part of it and see what it really means to be selfless. To give so much of your time and energy to something you care about, not because it benefits you, but because it’s the right thing to do.

He’s also really happy that Lucas will get to stay at Adams.

Charlie: You’re a big part of the reason this class is as good as it is -- I mean, you all are. And God… is it a good class. Best thing I’ve ever been a part of by far. It’s no wonder Missy Bradford wanted in so badly.

From his tone, people are starting to get concerned. Haley and Clarissa are watching him curiously, wondering what’s going on. Riley frowns.

Riley: Charlie?

Charlie: Missy wanted to get into Triple A, and she wasn’t going to just stop at Lucas. I think we all know that. But the good news is, she’s not going to be coming after anyone else. [ a beat ] Missy isn’t going to come for anyone else’s spot in the senior class, because she’s taking mine. I’ll be transferring to Haverford Prep, starting in the fall.

The reaction from the A class is stunned, then uproarious. All of them protest, ranging from shocked outbursts to outright denials. Charlie tries to get them to calm down, trying to keep everything from derailing.

Dave: This rich bitch is begging to get egged.

Charlie shouts over them, getting them to pull it back together. He speaks with all the confidence he can muster, trying to be strong.

Charlie: It’s good, okay? It’s gonna be good. I think… I think the change will be good for me. And this way, no one else has to deal with the Bradfords --

Nate: Until we have to deal with her every day.

Clarissa: Yeah, Charlie, this isn’t fair. You’re part of the A class. You belong here.

Maybe so, Clarissa. Maybe so. Charlie’s facade cracks for the first time, hesitating when he tries to figure out how to respond.

Charlie, quietly: Sometimes the right thing isn’t always fair. But I want to do this. I’m making the choice… even if it’s not ideal for me.

It’s clear there will be no arguing this. He’s made up his mind, making the most selfless choice he thinks he possibly could by letting them go.

Charlie: But I asked Miss Burgess if it would be okay for me to do my final performance for you guys, even though it’s supposed to be one-on-one. If it was going to be my last one, I… I wanted to share it with you.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Take Care of Yourself” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Charlie Gardner

And what a final AAA performance he gives. Charlie effectively uses his swan song as a goodbye, his gentle and unassuming tenor creating the exact right feeling like a comforting hug. Even though all of them are stunned and some of his classmates are in tears -- as is he, by the end of the rendition -- he gives the distinct feeling that everything is going to be okay. It won’t be the same, but it will be okay. And that has to be enough.

He shares small moments with each of his major classmates -- Yindra, and Nigel. He accepts a tight hug from Clarissa. He shakes his head fondly at Haley as he sings the lyrics “no more tears to cry, I’m out of goodbyes,” wiping some of the tears from her cheeks.

She’s not the only one in tears. When he gets to Riley it gets harder to get through the performance, his voice cracking on the falsetto a bit as he takes her hand. She squeezes it tightly, mouthing an I love you before he pulls away. She shifts and hides her head in Lucas’s shoulder, who is still in complete disbelief.

By the time he gets back to the front and swivels to face them all again, there’s only one person left to address.

Zay has been silent the entire time, totally out of words. He’s just staring at Charlie, tears slipping down his cheeks even though it’s like he doesn’t know they’re there. He can’t process it. He can’t believe it’s actually happening.

But Charlie looks right at him as he sings the last set of lines, the eye contact deliberate and full of meaning.

Take care of yourself, I love you.

INT. CHUBBIE’S DINER - DAY

In spite of the emotional whammy, there’s still plenty to celebrate. Another year around the bend, the fact that Lucas isn’t going to have to return to Quincy. No one is going to be absolutely decimated by Bradford money, so the junior A class has gathered at the local diner to celebrate the victory.

The techies share in a group toast, cheering the fact that the original odd octet are going into senior year still a united front. Dylan and Asher make a special toast to Lucas, eternally grateful that their fearless leader wasn’t brutally taken from them by the claws of capitalism.

Dave: A-fucking-men.

Jade also adds an addition to the toast, signaling out Isadora for all the effort she put into the protest effort. It definitely didn’t go unnoticed, and while things aren’t completely all right and in order between her and the techie crew, it seems as though they’ll be able to repair things in the end.

She’s pulled from the moment by her phone ringing, recognizing Valerie’s number and eagerly going to take the call. She tells Lucas she’ll be right back, going into the back to answer.

They’ve made a great victory… but a victory they really only have because Charlie took the fall. Zay says as much, not nearly in the same high spirits as he sits across from Riley. She’s torn, caught between the elation of Lucas not having to leave and the reality of her good friend volunteering to sacrifice his spot instead. Charlie, pointedly, is not in attendance.

She questions if Zay really had no idea, if Charlie really didn’t say anything. He shakes his head, obviously embittered. Nothing about Haverford, nothing about the possibility, and definitely nothing about actually making the decision.

Zay: No. No, he didn’t. And now he’s not even here to face it. [ sharply ] He’s just… gone.

Oof. Riley reaches across the table and takes his hand, offering whatever comfort she can.

Still, celebration. Lots of things to celebrate! Maya makes her way over to Lucas, pithily congratulating him on still somehow managing to evade cosmic consequence for his overall general existence.

Maya: It seems you and I get to enjoy one more glorious year of barely tolerating one another.

Lucas: Oh, just what I was looking forward to the very most.

Maya: It’ll be even better now, considering you’ll be swapping spit with my roommate whenever possible. [ off his disturbed expression ] Yeah, speaking of, it would be peachy if you two could not do that in our shared bedroom. Just, you know, common courtesy.

Maya lecturing anyone about courtesy is a laugh riot, but Lucas just wants this conversation to end. As he points out, maybe they’ll get to avoid it anyway, right? If all goes as planned, she’ll be moving in with Isadora, and they’ll never have to cross paths outside of the AAA auditorium. Ever. And they should never speak of this again.

Speaking of, Maya asks where Isadora wandered off to. Lucas nods towards the back room, claiming she said she’d be back after she talked to her mom.

Well, it’s been a hot minute since she left to do that. Sure, there’s a lot to fill her in on, but Maya is nothing if not nosy. Besides, she’s not going to pass up the chance to jump in on a conversation with Valerie De La Cruz. Maya makes her way towards the back to look for her.

INT. CHUBBIE’S DINER - BACK ROOM - NIGHT

Maya pokes her head in to the back area, peering around for Isadora. She manages to find her sitting on an overturned bucket in the corner of the room, no longer on the phone. She questions what she’s still doing back here when the party is out there -- and did she miss the call with Val?

Isadora doesn’t respond. She’s staring into space, expression totally blank. Maya grows concerned when she realizes her phone is at her feet, screen shattered after hitting the concrete flooring.

Maya: Izzy?

She comes over to kneel in front of her, asking what’s wrong. Isadora still doesn’t speak, almost like she’s frozen. Maya gently touches her knee.

Maya: Izzy, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.

For another long moment, silence. Then she manages to speak, the words coming out numb.

Isadora: My mom is dead.

The words hit like a freight train. Maya stares at her, stunned, the revelation slowly sinking in.

END OF EPISODE.

[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (iii.)

A/n: I wanted to insert a little more Connor in this one, so here we go.

Summary: Connor thinks y/n and Shawn are getting too close and thinks they need to slow down.

Warnings: some fluff, some angst, and a lot of flashbacks

Word count: 2.5k

***

The bus is quiet except for the soft clicks of my keyboard as I edit some photos, and Connor's occasional sigh when he can't fit a clip with another. Everyone had gone to bed hours ago, but neither of us were willing to stop working yet. Connor claimed his footage and ideas were "too exciting to put off until morning." But I just wasn't quite ready to sleep yet.

"Your knee is still pretty banged up," Connor mutters, looking up from his laptop.

I look down at the rough scab and run a finger over it, wincing. "Yeah, I probably should have taken better care of it after Shawn cleaned it."

"Hmm… I don't know why he was the one to clean it anyway."

I think back to the night just a week ago, when I was so determined to get the perfect shot, that I tripped and scraped up my knee pretty bad.

I don't even notice it, really. At least not at first. It's not until I feel that little bit of wetness on my jeans that I realize I might have hit something. And it's confirmed when Shawn comes into the green room, high on adrenaline. He reaches for me, like he does after every show despite the dirty looks from Andrew and Cez (who I'm assuming knows about Shawn's supposed promise to not try anything), but he stops short when he notices my leg.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? Why are you bleeding?"

I brush off his worry with a dismissive hand. "I'm fine. Just fell when I was trying to get a photo. I got it, by the way, and it's definitely my favorite."

"Uh huh, that's great, hon. But you are really bleeding," he's on his knees in front of me, carefully trailing his thumb around the raw skin, seeing as the scrape also tore my jeans. "Does this hurt?" He pushes gently around my leg and I wince.

"Fuck. Yeah."

He sighs, "sit down."

"What? Why?"

"I have to clean it. It might get infected."

"Connor," I shake my head. "He was just being a good friend."

"Y/n, you can't keep saying that's all it is. I know what you look like when you like someone. I was once on the receiving end of it, remember that?"

"Fucking obviously, Con. And bow did that end for us?"

"We're still great friends," he tries to reason.

"But do you remember how long it took for us to get back here? We didn't talk for months. And no offense, but I'm not willing to lose my friendship with Shawn because I might have feelings for him. After what happened with us, I can't risk that again."

"So you do like him?"

I cross my arms over my chest defensively, "Yes. But it doesn't matter. I'm not gonna do anything about it."

"Other than lead him on?"

"Excuse me?"

He chuckles bitterly, "Nice hoodie."

"Don't." I give him a pointed look.

"When did he give it to you? Was it on one of your late night adventures?"

"How did you-?"

"You're not as quiet about leaving as you think you are."

"You're a dick. You know that?"

"I'm not the one playing with my friend's heart. Wearing his clothes, sitting in his lap when you think no one's around, sharing drinks, picking off each other's plates, sharing earbuds, falling asleep on each other, kissing foreheads and cheeks."

The more things he points out, the angrier I get. At myself, of course. Because he's right. This has gone way past unprofessional and I hate that I've let things go this far, knowing full well that we shouldn't be doing any of the things that we do.

"Do you see how this looks? Frankly, you and Shawn are lucky Andrew hasn't said anything to you guys yet."

"It won't get to that point," I mumble, shifting uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly too hot in Shawn's hoodie.

"I hope not, because I would hate to see you lose your job because you let your feelings get in the way."

"It won't happen," I say again.

He sighs as he watches me shrug out of Shawn's youth hoodie. "I'm not doing this to be mean, y/n. You know I love and care about you. That's why I'm saying this. I don't want to see you or Shawn get hurt."

I nod, "I know." I clear my throat. "I'm gonna go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

"Y/n."

I sigh and turn back to face him, "Yeah?"

"You know I love you, right?"

I chew the inside of my cheek and stand up, fixing my shirt. "Yep." I grab my laptop and go to the bunks where I fully intend to cry myself to sleep.

---

The tears fall silently once I'm settled in my bunk. Thinking about how much Shawn and I are jeopardizing not only our professional relationship, but our friendship too. I can't be wearing his clothes like it's nothing.

I walk out of the bathroom, freshly showered and the boys all turn to me, Shawn's eyes stay locked on me longer than Brian's or Connor's. And there's no masking the big smile on his face.

"What?" I ask quietly, sitting next to him.

"Nothing, nothing. You just look cozy, that's all." He pulls gently at the strings and boops my nose.

I scrunch up my face and get comfortable in my spot, legs underneath me as I scroll through Instagram.

And I wish I didn't know what Connor was referring to when he said I can't be sitting in Shawn's lap.

But we really did think we were the only ones in the room.

We're in his dressing room and Shawn's pulling his pinky ring on and off his finger over and over again, barely breathing, but letting out a loud sigh when he realizes how long it's been since he last took in air. It's hard to take pictures of him when he's like this. Anxious and fidgety. So I put my camera beside me and take his hands in mine, knowing that physical contact is always what helps calm him down. It didn't take a genius to figure that out.

"What's wrong, bub?"

He exhaled deeply, letting go of my hands only to place his on my hips, pulling me down to his lap. "I don't know. I just can't think straight." His head leans forward, resting against my chest.

I wrap one arm around the back of his neck and tug softly on the curls on the back of his neck. "Well what are you thinking about?"

After a few seconds of silence, I can hear him mumble into my shirt. "Sound check was a disaster. And I haven't been able to reach my mom all day. My sister went on a date and I swear to god, I will kill that boy if he tries anything with her. And I really miss my dad because he's always telling me that it'll all be alright." He pick his head up, "and have you noticed that Connor's always staring at us when we're together? It's like he has some type of radar up when we're near each other. And he like… doesn't stop until one of us leaves. It's weird right?"

I let out a nervous chuckle, "wow, you weren't kidding when you said you were everywhere."

"Y/n."

"Shh… just close your eyes." I tilt his head back a little bit and get off his lap. He protests though and brings me back, this time straddling him, eyes still closed. I know I should, but I don't fight him on it. "Okay, I'm gonna do this thing my mom used to do when I felt restless as a kid. Just focus on my voice, okay?"

He nods, his hands resting firmly on my hips, keeping me safe against him.

And it's not like we intended to share drinks! We just both ended up getting something the other person liked.

"What'd you get?" Shawn asks, taking a sip of his smoothie, his nose wrinkling a bit after he swallows.

"They said it's piña colada. But all I'm getting is the pineapple. What'd you get?"

"Strawberry kiwi."

"But don't you hate kiwi?" I ask, taking another sip of my drink."

"I'm trying something new. Sue me."

I laugh when he coughs after a large gulp. "You don't like it, do you?"

He shakes his head, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Want to try mine?"

"Sure," he says and we switch cups. He hums in content, holding the cup just far enough from his face to stare at it the way people apparently do when they try something they like. "This is really good." He drinks a little more and I take the opportunity to try his - which, by the way, I like a lot more.

"If you want it, you can have it," I manage to say with a little smoothie still in my mouth.

"You sure?"

I nod, "I happen to like yours more too."

He just laughs and holds the cup out for us to cheers. I smile knowing I can't deny him. He makes it a point to shout out "Clink!" when our paper cups touch.

"I swear you're six years old," I mumble into the straw.

He mocks a pained expression, hand over his heart. "I am hurt. Truly devastated that you think so little of me."

I shove his shoulder, shaking my head, "Shut up!"

And until Connor brought it up, I didn't think there was anything wrong with the way Shawn and I picked food off each other's plate. We like the same food, it's not like Brian wasn't stealing fries from my plate too. What? Was I suddenly trying to get with him as well?

"Shawn, turn your face to the side real quick," I say, holding my camera up to my eye. He's stuffing an overly ranch covered fry in his mouth, but turns anyway and just as I hear the shutter sound, I reach across the table and steal a fry myself.

"I saw that," he says with a smirk.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I respond, covering my mouth as I swallow.

"You have your own fries, you know?"

"Ah, yes. But mine are cute and curly, like your hair. While yours are straight and normal, which, if you ask me, always taste better when they're not yours."

"I think all fries taste better when they're not yours. Let's test it, shall we?" He hands me another fry from his plate and takes two from mine. He's nodding before he even puts them in his mouth. "Yep, definitely confirmed."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," I scold him.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," he mimics, hands on his hips as if trying to recreate one of the many spongebob memes that have surfaced over the past couple years.

I'm quick to snap a picture of his figure and can't help but laugh out loud when it pops up on my screen.

"You know, I think it's you that makes everything better." He says seriously after I put my camera back down.

"What are you talking about?" I reach for his plate again and he doesn't even try to fight me, doesn't look down at my hand. He's just staring at my face, taking everything in. I suddenly become self conscious under the impromptu surveying he's doing and turn my face away from him to chew.

"Jesus Christ, your beautiful." I don't think he meant for me to hear that, so I pretend that I don't.

And for sure, sharing earbuds isn't flirtatious, right? Connor's just making a big deal out of nothing, trying to make me question everything I do around Shawn as if we aren't functioning adults who can make our own decisions… and mistakes.

"What are you listening to?" Shawn plops down beside me, hair wet from his shower only minutes ago.

"Dive," I mumble, scribbling a couple of sentences down.

"By Ed?"

I only respond with a soft yes because I'm on a roll with the story I'm writing and I know if I stop not I don't get that flow back.

"Can I listen too?"

I take out one earbud and hand it to him, never looking up from my piece of paper. Out of the corner of my eye. I can see him bobbing his head, and since one ear is now free to listen to the world outside of the music in my head, I can hear him tapping the table to the beat.

"Don't tell me you need me… if you don't believe it," he sings to me, holding his hand out to me, like a microphone.

I roll my eyes, but hold onto his hand ready to sing the next line. "Let me know the truth… before I dive right into you."

"I could fall, or I could fly. Here in your aeroplane."

"I could live, I could die, hanging on to words you say."

"I've been known to give my own, sitting back looking at every mess that I've made."

"So don't call me baby… unless you mean it."

We continue alternating lines until the song ends and we have stupid grins on our face despite the judging stares from Mike and Zubin.

I'm smiling like a child when Imagination comes on next and watch as Shawn grows increasingly more red. So I start singing to him.

"I keep craving, craving you. Don't know it,but it's true. Can't get my mouth to say the words they want to say to you."

He's shaking his head and takes out the earbud. I don't stop though. I sing the song, in its entirety to him, laughing continuously through every verse.

I wipe at my, no doubt, puffy eyes and turn on my side, facing say from the curtain.

Falling asleep was never the intention. I fully intended on removing myself from him once the coffee started to kick in. But the coffee never did do that. And I felt myself drifting faster and faster. It wasn't until we were at the radio station that felt a soft pair of lips on my hairline, peppering the skin with gentle, almost nonexistent kisses. "Mea vita, time to wake up, y/n/n."

I grumble softly, lifting my head just enough to rest my forehead on his. Without so much as a second thought, I press a kiss to his cheek, smiling sleepily. "Thanks for being my pillow," I murmur.

He brushes a strand of hair from my face. "Anytime."

I nudge his cheek with my nose, still half asleep, choosing to ignore that gnawing feeling in my stomach that is telling me that this is wrong. Dangerous, even, for our friendship. "Let's get to work, my cute little rockstar."

I sigh deeply. I'm gone for him. Completely. And its gonna hurt like a motherfucker when this spark - that is currently burning like a wildfire inside me - dissipates, leaving nothing but debris and loss in its wake.

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @anamariel2301 @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste @dino-16-avocado

PWY tags: @lifeoftheparty74 @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @alinaxxshawn @rosesfromcth @bodacious-5sos @sweetheartmendes

I hope you guys are enjoying it to far! From now on PWY is updating twice a week! I hope you're ready for this mess.

Like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙

[jawnjendes]

dive into the dark | shawn mendes

chapter 11/?, university au, shawn x goth oc

AN: sry for the delay summertime depression has come with a vengeance lulz have some angsty comfort

***let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist

masterlist | playlist

“There once was a boy named Shawnie, destined to be a star.”

Why was that the last straw? Why was a photo of Stella, Shawn, and Camila dressed as Hogwarts students at a Halloween party the thing to send Annalise spiraling? What about that measly little Instagram post possessed Annalise to text her former shrink at four in the morning?

It’s not like she wanted to go to any of the stupid parties on campus. In the past, she and Patrick would hang out in a cemetery and be with the dead. Yes, she gave in to those goth stereotypes sometimes too. Annalise justified it by claiming she was celebrating Dia de los Muertos. This year, however, she just stayed in the dorm by herself, her own Hogwarts outfit sitting in her closet, making no noise and pretending it doesn’t exist. She was alone long enough for everything to come down on her, and the photo of her friends and not-boyfriend all but broke her to pieces.

So on November first, Annalise found herself in Callie’s office. It wasn’t hard getting herself to go there; Therapy had been a constant in her life for a year, and she missed it. She knew she had things to get off her chest, but it stalled when she was actually sat in front of Callie, who was quite happy to see her.

“It’s been a few months, hasn’t it?” she said, smiling warmly. “Where were we the last time you were here?”

Annalise shrugged. “I had exams going on, and I was picking out classes and a dorm for the next semester.”

“Right. And you’re in between classes now if I remember from your text. So all that went well, I assume?”

“Yeah. Still in school. Still working.”

Callie nodded. She hadn’t written anything on her clipboard yet. “I don’t mean to pry, but I also heard you were in the hospital for a bit?”

“Did Shawn tell you that?” Annalise’s polite tone changed. “He’s always telling everyone my business.”

Surprisingly, Callie wasn’t bothered by the sudden mood change. “I believe you told me over text. We had to pause our sessions because you were in recovery.”

“Oh. Oh yeah. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get all snappy.” She went red.

“It’s alright. So, would you like to talk about what happened in the hospital?”

That was all the first session was: hospital talk. Annalise knew this story like the back of her hand, but it was less annoying telling it again because Callie already knew the stuff about the pre-existing health problems. It’s on reason why Annalise started therapy in the first place.

“Now, whenever my mom or dad call me, a majority of the conversation is about what I’m eating,” she explained. “Or what I should be eating. And Shawn constantly reminds me not to skip meals. I know I’m sick, but it gets so annoying sometimes. I know my body, and I know what I’m feeling.”

“Okay, hang on,” Callie said, holding up a hand to stop her. “You refer to yourself as sick?”

Annalise had to think about it. It came out of her mouth, but she never really processed that she was saying it. “Yeah. That’s how my parents always put it since it all started, I guess I picked it up from them.”

“Well, I - and I’m sure plenty of other people - don’t see you as sick. You were in the hospital, you had surgery, and now you’re fine. Ann, if you keep referring to yourself as a sick person, it will have an impact on your mental wellbeing. You are not sick, you have a chronic sickness.”

For some reason, that hit in the very center of Annalise’s chest. If she was cracked from the Instagram photos, then this practically burst the dam. She nodded, processing Callie’s words, but one part stuck out to her.

“I am fine now. It wasn’t a life threatening case, anyway.”

“Well, you did bleed internally after the first surgery,” Callie corrected. “And you had an infection on the incisions after. That’s not nothing. That’s very dangerous, and life threatening.”

“But it wasn’t that bad. They caught it in time, and I don’t even remember what it felt like. Besides, it’s not like I have cancer or anything.” Annalise paused and looked down. “Everything went fine, despite the infections and near death. I’m back to doing what I did before, but I feel… I didn’t die, but it feels like a part of me did.”

Callie now wrote on her clipboard, her pen scribbling being the only sound in the room. Then, she trailed her green eyes over to Annalise. “And it’s okay to feel that way. Putting your life in the hands of anyone, including medical professionals, makes you very vulnerable as it is. Adding surgery to that only adds to the vulnerability, not to mention it is invasive and can be quite traumatizing.”

“Helpless and dependent too,” Annalise added, picking at her nails. “Practically useless.”

“Let’s not say useless, okay? You needed help. You were recovering for surgery, it was for your own wellbeing.”

She shrugged, not exactly agreeing with that statement despite the truth in it. “I just don’t like depending on people.The nurses always pushed me to move on my own without disturbing the incisions, but I could never bring myself to do it. I knew I had to so I could properly heal, but I felt so lazy and weak. I felt like a sack of potatoes, having to be physically moved everywhere.”

There were times Callie would react to things her clients said. This was one of those times. She chuckled and raised her eyebrows. “A sack of potatoes?”

Annalise smiled timidly. “Yeah…”

That settled the homework Annalise was left with. She had to cut the harmful words out of her vocabulary. She was not useless. She was not lazy. She was most certainly not a sack of potatoes.

She felt okay during the session, but as soon as she was back in her car, Annalise felt the weight slam on her chest. As she drove back to campus, she started to remember things that she didn’t even know were in her head. She noticed the difference in a nurse who worked in the day versus the night. One was much perkier than the other. She never saw the same nurse twice during the entire stay. She couldn’t even count the amount of people who lifted up her gown to examine the incisions, much less the people who actually asked if they could expose her like that.

Heart pounding, Annalise moved a shaking hand towards the radio, turning up the volume and letting the sounds of 5SOS soothe her anxious state.

~

Today wasn’t supposed to be spent alone in the apartment, serenading a cat. Shawn loved Henry to bits and pieces, but this wasn’t the lady he was supposed to be spending time with. He appreciated that she didn’t run when he sang. Or shit all over his romantic gesture. She did shit right next to her litter box, though, and that was annoying to deal with.

“I can’t see one thing wrong between the both of us…” he trailed off, strumming his guitar. Then he sighed; That line didn’t age well.

Henry tilted her round head at the sound of the guitar. It was entertaining to watch, but not enough to make Shawn laugh or even smile. She jumped down from the top of the couch cushion and down to the carpet, stretching her limbs before scurrying over to the condo. Shawn watched her and then let his head fall back to the arm of the couch. He strummed an entirely different song.

“Beggin’ to hear your voice… tell me you love me too…”

He nearly fell off the couch when his phone went off, going from zero to one hundred in less than a second. He was still on the waiting game with both work and the live lounge, and the possibility of either of these places calling him back was enough to make him chuck his guitar across the room. He didn’t, though, he just hastily set it down as he answered the phone call without even looking at the ID.

He really should have. Let’s just say, Shawn was George O’Malley, and the voice on the other line was a fucking bus.

“Shawn?”

“Ann?”

A small pause. Then, she spoke very fast, before Shawn could even process what the fuck was happening. “I know we’re supposed to be fighting or not talking to each other, I know I’m supposed to be mad at you - and I still am - but, uh… I… I’m - can we call a truce? Just for an hour or two?”

He almost said yes in a heartbeat, but he caught himself. “What do you mean by truce? What’ll happen during those hours?”

Ann’s hesitation meant that she knew he was talking about the previous check ins. “It’s not like that. I promise. It’s just… something’s kind of happening, and I don’t think I can deal with it by myself.”

“You need to be more specific. What’s going on?”

“I’m in pain. Physical pain.”

Now it was Shawn’s turn to stay quiet. “Oh…”

Needless to say, Ann came over. For once, she was in sweatpants instead of her pajama bottoms. She also had on a black hoodie with the words “Positive Mental Attitude” on the sleeves. Her long, dark hair was down but very unkempt, and her olive skin was looking paler than normal.

The first thing Shawn did was feel her forehead for a fever. Ann made a small noise at the gesture, her brows furrowing.

“Sorry,” he said, taking his hands away. “I was just checking.”

She sighed as she let herself into the living room. “You remind me of my mother more and more every day. Not even a hello, just straight with the touching and worrying.”

Shawn resisted rolling his eyes. Didn’t she understand he did that because he cares? “How come you didn’t just go straight to the doctor?”

“It’s not excruciating,” she replied. “It’s bothersome, and it’s definitely there. But it’s not keeping me from doing anything.”

“Is it the same pain as before? In your abdomen?”

Ann shook her head, growing a little timid. “It’s around my ovaries. Pelvic pain.”

“You period?”

“Already passed. I’ve been feeling this for two days.”

Shawn tried very hard not to flip out. He resisted the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. She’s been in pain for a whole forty eight hours and she hasn’t done anything about it? This is exactly how it happened last time.

“So again,” he said, attempting to sound calm, “why don’t you just go to the doctor? Why are you here of all places?”

Ann had been looking at her hands the entire time. But when she locked her tired eyes with Shawn’s, he knew just how serious and important her next statement was.

“I can’t face the doctor alone.”

“You want me to go with you.” It wasn’t a question. Shawn was just able to pull the words out of her.

“Please?” she asked. “I know things are off right now but you’re the only one I can count on. You’re the only one who’s seen this side of me.”

Shawn would be lying if he said that didn’t tug on his heartstrings. Ann needs him, and she is admitting to that. But one thing stuck out in his mind; She had been asking a lot of him. She asked him for the separation, to be patient with her, and now this.

But it seems like Ann knows how to pull things out of him too. “You said you would make it up to me. This would help.”

Then again, when did she ever ask Shawn for help?

Ann insisted on driving, but Shawn dragged her into his Jeep. She navigated the way to her gyno, bouncing her legs on the way. That was when Shawn noticed that the serious faced, composed-by-nature girl was long gone. When did she lose that part of herself? That fundamental part of who she is seemed to fade away over the last few months, and Shawn was only now catching onto that? No wonder she was so angry at him all the time. It was a cry for help.

“What do you think it is?” he asked her. “The pain?”

“I don’t know. That’s what’s got me kinda worried,” she replied. “I’ve never felt this before. Google said they might be cysts that have to be surgically removed, so I stopped looking.”

Kinda worried? She was scared, scared to the point where she needed someone with her. Meaning, Shawn had to remain calm and collected, despite being worried himself.

“It’s probably nothing major,” he said, still managing to follow the voice from the Maps app on Ann’s phone. “They’ll prescribe you something, and you’ll be fine.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

Shawn took a quick glance at her. She wasn’t exactly wrong. Nothing more was said until Shawn had pulled into the parking lot of the clinic. He shut off the engine and took off his seatbelt, properly turning to face Ann.

“Hey, look at me.”

Slowly, her head turned towards him, like she was hesitating. Shawn wanted to hold her hand or cup her cheek, but it was hard to tell what was allowed her.

“No matter what happens,” he told her, “you will be okay. You will come out of this.”

He stood by her as she spoke to the receptionist. He sat with her in the waiting room as she filled out three different forms on a clipboard. Shawn wondered how she wasn’t confused by any of the questions; He always needed his mom or dad with him at any appointment to help him.

The wait wasn’t long once Ann turned in the paperwork. A nurse called her back, and Ann gestured for Shawn to follow.

“How are you, Ms. Flores?” the nurse asked as she led them down a blank, white corridor.

“Swell,” she replied in a way that did not sound swell.

“Right in here.” She turned the corner and gestured to a small room. “We’re just going to take a little bit of blood. The physician will be right with you.”

Ann silently went and sat in the big chair next to the counter with all the blood taking tools. She sat back like it was second nature. Shawn merely stood against the back wall, unsure of what to do with himself. This room was clearly made for two people, and he wasn’t supposed to be one of them.

Finally, a woman in a white lab coat entered the room, putting on a pair of latex gloves. She smiled warmly. “Let’s get this show on the road! Now which one of you is Annalise Marie Flores?”

“I don’t have a middle name,” Ann told her, very much not on the same level as the perky medic.

She pointed at her. “That was a test to verify your name, and you passed! Now I just need you to verify your date of birth!”

“Twelve. Twenty seven. Ninety seven.” Still not amused, but Shawn was. The two different energies was almost comical.

The physician approached the counter as she got her tubes and needle ready as she continued speaking. “A fellow Capricorn. That’s the best sign. Except I was born on Christmas Eve so my birthday was always overlooked.”

Ann only nodded, visibly disinterested.

“So, which arm are you gonna let me poke?” the physician asked.

“Whichever has the best vein,” she simply replied.

It was like a script Ann had memorized. How many times had she done this in the past?

Shawn looked at the floor as soon as Ann was stuck with the needle. It was a good minute of listening to the physician hum to herself before she finally acknowledged Shawn.

“Here for moral support?”

“Pretty much,” he replied, keeping his eyes on his boots. “She asked me to come, I couldn’t say no.”

“Friendship goals, right there.”

He smiled, despite the pang of annoyance that struck his chest. Was the rift between them that obvious?

“Alright, let’s get a look at your battle wound.” She wrapped up Ann’s arm in cotton and gauze. “So, your results will be ready in a few minutes, and I’ll be back to go over them and see where to go from there!”

“Okay,” was all Ann had to say.

“Thank you,” Shawn told the lady before she left.

Ann let her head fall back against the chair as soon as they were alone. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. “I liked that lady, she was cool.”

Shawn chuckled. “Yeah, you guys acted like such best friends.”

“Well, at least she knows Capricorns are superior.”

“You act like you’ve never met a Leo.”

For the first time today, Ann cracked a smile. She opened her eyes and looked at him. “I know your act of having your shit together is exactly that.”

Maybe astrology wasn’t all bullshit. Shawn wanted to say something to prove her wrong, but then he would be proving her point at the same time.

“Yeah, well…” he trailed off, making Ann grin even wider.

It was good to see that, so he let it slide.

Another few minutes went by and a different woman in a lab coat entered the room. It was a lady in her 30s, blonde hair, kind but professional face. Her presence made Ann visibly perk up.

“Hello, Ms. Flores,” the doctor said with a smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

"Dr. Pacini," Ann greeted. "I didn't think you would be here, I kind of came at the last minute."

"Well, I heard you were here, and I had a look at your blood test results." She stopped herself and placed her hands on her hips, acknowledging Shawn. "Is this the boyfriend you told me about?"

Ann nodded silently.

"Hi," Shawn greeted, holding his hand out. He couldn't ignore the tiny jump his heart did hearing that Ann talked about him.

"Nice to meet you," Dr. Pacini said, shaking his hand. Then she turned back to Ann. "So it's okay that he's in here while we discuss your results?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

The blood test showed that Ann's hormones were completely unbalanced, and apparently that wasn’t anything new. She was very high in testosterone, and that was when Shawn learned that women could actually produce that hormone. What was news to Ann was that she was also anemic and low in potassium. Then they discussed her irregular menstrual cycle (another thing Shawn didn’t know about), and more personal information was taken in. Ann really wanted Shawn here to witness this? She could barely talk about her day without thinking she was oversharing.

"Were there any changes with your birth control?" Dr. Pacini asked.

"I missed some doses when I was in the hospital," Ann replied, suddenly timid. “And a few doses after I was discharged.”

“How many exactly?”

She looked down and mumbled. “Three months…”

"And that is plenty of time for new cysts to form on your ovaries. So if it's alright with you, I'd like to do a pelvic exam and a vaginal ultrasound."

Shawn knew Ann so well that the split second pause meant that this is what she had been afraid of. He finally stepped towards the chair she was sitting in, silently letting her know he was there.

"It's entirely up to you," Dr. Pacini said, "but I strongly suggest it. It would give us the chance to rule out anything serious."

Ann nodded. "Um… do I have to make another appointment and come back another time?"

"No, we can get it all done today."

"Oh-kay, then."

Dr. Pacini led them out of the room and down the hallway. Ann looked at Shawn as they went, anything but masking composure. He placed his hand on the small of her back as they walked into a different observation room.

“So on a scale of one to ten, how intense is the pain?” Dr. Pacini asked.

“About a six,” Ann replied. “I can function, but I can’t ignore it.”

“Got it. So just strip from the waist down, lie down on the chair, and we’ll get started.”

Ann wanted Shawn to sit closer as she was examined, so he did. The only reason why this was weird was because Ann did not like being this vulnerable in front of anyone, even Shawn. That, and she was still apparently fuming from their last fight, yet something about all of this made her reach out to him in need. He played with her hair as he tried yet again to understand the way her mind works.

Dr. Pacini noticed the tiny gesture. “How long have you two been together?”

Not surprisingly, Ann didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t be the one to say they were together at a time like this, pelvic exam aside.

“One year today,” Shawn answered anyway.

“Well, congratulations.” Dr. Pacini smiled.

Ann looked at him, now distracted from what was going on downstairs. “One year?”

“Yeah. November seventh. Took you on a date to the coffee shop.”

“Didn’t think we’d spend our anniversary like this.”

He knew she meant that in more ways than one. Shawn didn’t think he would be here either, hanging onto the tiny thread Ann had provided. And to think he really thought about the idea of considering ending things permanently… He was a sucker for her.

“Okay, my dear,” Dr. Pacini said, sitting up straight. “Onto the ultrasound.”

“Anything weird down there?” Ann asked with a nervous chuckle.

“I did detect some bumps on your ovaries, so I need to get a better look at what exactly those are.” She held up a long, thin… thing. “Just like the pelvic exam, it’ll be uncomfortable but not painful.”

Shawn chose not to look directly at it for more than a second. He kept his eyes on Ann’s anxious face as the ultrasound began. He had so many questions: Was this her first vaginal ultrasound? How many times has she come to see Dr. Pacini in the past? How long was she on birth control? What reproductive disorder did she have that required her to take birth control? Why did they ever use condoms if she was already on birth control?

It took a bit longer to get the results for the ultrasound, making Ann stay hauntingly quiet as she got dressed again. Shawn really didn’t know what to say that wasn’t any of the questions circling his head. When Dr. Pacini came back with the results, she deemed that there were in fact, new cysts forming. However, it wasn’t severe or particularly harmful, so Ann was prescribed a new birth control along with progesterone.

“That’s it?” Ann asked in disbelief. “That’s all I need?”

“That’s it,” Dr. Pacini confirmed. “If the pain persists, or gets worse, then by all means come right back. But it’s quite unlikely given where your pain level is at now. Just give it a few days and remember to breathe.”

Ann took a deep breath. It wavered as she exhaled, making Shawn rub her back.

“See? You’re gonna be fine,” he told her reassuringly.

“As long as you take your pills,” Dr. Pacini said firmly. “These are what will keep your pain from coming back. The birth control will manage the PCOS and the progesterone will help shrink the cysts. You’re usually on top of this, Annalise, can I ask what happened in the last few months?”

She shrugged, clearing her throat. Shawn knew what that meant, and he debated answering for her.

“Being in the hospital didn’t do anything for my mental health, I think,” Ann spoke softly.

Dr. Pacini looked between her and Shawn. He nodded in confirmation, trying not to externally show how much his heart was aching. Of course, the doctor asked to elaborate, so Shawn explained the surgery, the almost-death, and the second surgery. It helped her understand, and it made Ann cry in the observation room.

“I see,” Dr. Pacini said as she nodded. “Post surgical depression is very common. Clinical depression on its own can cause you to not care for yourself the way I know you can. I can’t prescribe you anything because it’s not my area of expertise, but Annalise. Look at me.”

She wiped her face with her sleeve and sniffed, her puffy, reddened eyes meeting the doctor’s.

“You will come out of this.”

The silence was loud as Shawn and Ann left the clinic. Ann read the papers Dr. Pacini had given her over and over, brows scrunched in concentration. She only stopped to get back in the car and put on her seatbelt, clearly eager to get the hell out of here.

“You made it out okay,” Shawn gently told her.

“I still have to wait and see if the pain will go away,” she grumbled as she shoved the pages into her purse. “Just like last time.”

Shawn looked at her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Last time was different. I know you’re worried, but it doesn’t mean everything is going to repeat itself. Did you book an appointment with Callie?”

Ann was rubbing her hands together. “Yeah. I saw her last week and I’m going again tomorrow. That reminds me, I need to ask you something.”

“Anything.” Heart: racing.

Shifting in her seat, Ann sighed deeply. “Okay. I don’t expect you to remember, and it’s okay if you don’t, but do you know what antibiotics they gave me for the infection on my incisions?”

That wasn’t at all what Shawn was expecting. Then again, he had no idea what was happening with this girl lately. When did he ever?

He thought for a moment before answering. “I don’t know the name of it. I remember that it was so strong it made you nauseous. The nurses told you not to puke because then you’d be puking up the medicine. Then, they took you off your Prozac and birth control so you weren’t taking in so much at once. The priority was to control the infection.”

The memory was still heartbreaking. Ann, with her sunken eyes screwed shut, frequently wiggling her fingers and toes in an attempt to keep everything down. She didn’t want to be touched or even talked to. When that side effect wore off, it was time for another dose. It was probably torture for her. Shawn remembered telling her he was going to the cafeteria when in reality he just went to cry to his mom or dad over the phone in the bathroom.

Ann tilted her head in thought. “You remember all that?”

“You don’t?” Shawn asked. “You were like that for a good few days.”

The hand rubbing continued. “I guess it’s blocked out of my head because it was so traumatic. Anyway, I just wanted to know…” She inhaled shortly. “Because uh, Callie wanted to pinpoint um, when I stopped taking the Prozac…” She inhaled again, like she was out of breath.

Shawn noticed the sporadic movements and grew concerned. “You okay?”

Ann rapidly nodded her head, despite her short breathing. “Yeah, just… hospital talk. I, I don’t really like it but I have to talk about it. She, uh, she warned me. I’d get really - fuck - uh, the dam burst, basically.”

“It’s apart of the process.” Shawn nodded, remembering his own flood of tears when he did the work of therapy. “Hey, look at me.”

She shook her head, shoulders tense. Her voice came out low and shaky. “I can’t feel my hands.”

“Can I see?”

Her hand was trembling wildly as she shyly held it out to Shawn. He ran his thumb over her fingers, noticing her stubby chewed up nails and the tiniest speck of black polish on the index. Then, he squeezed the pressure point between her thumb and index.

Ann gasped and looked up at him.

“Felt that?” Shawn asked, and she nodded. “See, you’re okay. You’re a strong lady.”

“I’m a strong lady…”

He affectionately rubbed her hand in both of his, offering a smile. He figured it was best to distract from the scary feelings. “Remember what was happening a year ago? I took you out to that coffee shop.”

“I was nervous,” she mumbled.

“Me too. When I picked you up at your dorm, the first thing I noticed was your red eyeshadow and I thought… red is my new favorite color. I also noticed you didn’t wear the black lipstick, and I really hoped it meant that you were going to kiss me.”

Ann was already blushing from the anxiety attack, but she breathed out a tiny laugh. “I really wasn’t. The nude lip was because we were going to eat…”

“Well, I like to think that you wanted to kiss me. And you did in the end, even after you said you don’t kiss on the first date.” Shawn was tickling the palm of her hand now, running his fingers over every line.

“It was a ‘fuck it’ moment…” Ann was watching his fingers move, like it was helping her focus.

“It’s probably one of my favorite moments with you. Because then I got to know the most amazing, strongest, badass lady I’ve ever seen, and I got to call her mine.”

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @1-800-khalid-mendussy @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @poppyshawn @shawnsunflower @someoneunimportantxx @ruinhoney @shawnvvmendes @calyumthomas @yourdeflightfullyleft @havethetimeeofyourlifee @shawmndes @wronglanemendes @chillingbythesea @softmendesss @mutuallynotmutual

[magicalmarauder]

Panic

A/N: This is my first Shawn imagine, hope everyone enjoys it! :) 

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4k+

Summary: Y/N is dating Shawn Mendes and is home alone in their shared apartment while he is on tour and her appendix bursts. Angst and fluff ensues!

You groaned in frustration, burying your head into the pillow as you curled further into a tight ball on yours and Shawns bed, trying your best to ignore the pain that was slowly gripping you. Today had been your second day with this nasty stomach virus that had been so fiercely plaguing you. It seemed as if the constant nausea, vomiting, chills, and stomach pain would not leave and all you wanted was your boyfriend with you to help take care of you. But instead, he was on the other side of the globe being the huge rockstar that he was. Not to get you wrong, you were incredibly proud of your amazing boyfriend, but it was times like these where you really wished that he had a career that didn’t take him so far away from you and so often. It seemed like every time you turned around, he was jetting off somewhere new.

Currently, he was in London preparing to play Wembley Stadium, which was a huge accomplishment and you were so, so proud of him, but again, you couldn’t help but wish that he was here with you to make you some soup and cuddle with you until you started feeling better.

But alas, wishing it to be so wouldn’t do anything. This was your reality and you had to face it.

Before you could continue down that rabbit hole of self-despair any further, your phone began vibrating and you groaned, blindly reaching over to the bedside table and pressing accept without even looking to see who was on the other end.

“Hello?” You moaned pathetically, voice hoarse.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Shawn’s sweet voice greeted you from the other end of the line. “Still not feeling well?”

You grunted in response, the pain feeling more unbearable than it had the last day or so. Maybe you should go to the doctor? This couldn’t be normal, could it? You should be getting better not worse, right?

“Are you taking anything for the pain?” Shawn questioned in concern, the background noise fading slightly as Shawn presumably moved to a less crowded area in order to hear you more clearly.

“Yeah, I took some pain medicine about an hour or two ago,” you explained pathetically, “but it hasn’t helped at all. I’m still nauseous and throwing up and my stomach still hurts too much for me to get comfortable or really get any sleep. I tried taking a sleeping pill last night, but it didn’t really help any.” Thinking back to the past two nights made your head pound in pain and frustration. You didn’t think you had gotten more than forty-five minutes of sleep at a time and even that had been fitful.

Tears slipped down your face as all the pain and frustration finally wore you down to the point of tears. “I wish you were here with me,” you whispered softly, knowing it was a fruitless thought, but needing to get it out in the air anyway. Although you knew Shawn was needed in London right now, you also couldn’t help how you felt. And if that made you selfish, you just couldn’t find the energy to care at the moment. You were sick and miserable and all you wanted was your cuddly boyfriend.

Shawn sighed, sounding slightly irritated. “You know I can’t be there right now, Y/N. I have to work.”

From just the tone of his voice at the moment, you could clearly picture him running his hand through his hair in frustration, the circumstances of the situation affecting him more than he would like to admit. Despite the fact that Shawn was incredibly hard-working and would do anything for his fans, in his heart even he couldn’t deny that at times it was too much and wish that he could be a normal boyfriend there for his girlfriend when she needed him.

“I know, Shawn. There’s just sometimes that I wish it could be different.”

Despite the fact that Shawn had literally just been thinking the exact same thing, he found himself becoming angry with his girlfriend. “I’m sorry, baby, but this is how it is,” he stated briskly. “We both knew what we were getting into when we started dating. This shouldn’t be a surprise.”

You recoiled, surprised to hear your boyfriend using such a harsh tone with you. If you were thinking rationally, you would probably have more patience in this moment, understanding that he was just as frustrated as you were with the fact that he couldn’t be there for you at the moment. However, you were sleep-deprived, sick, and annoyed with how he had just spoken to you. So, instead of responding in patience and understanding as you should have done, you allowed all of those negative emotions to flow over you.

“Well,” you started tiredly. “Considering that I’m exhausted and feel like death, I’m going to go now. You obviously don’t even care enough. So, I’ll just talk to you later. Goodby-.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Shawn interrupted immediately, trying to catch you before you hung up the phone on him. “I’m sorry, baby. I know I shouldn’t have said that, I just wish that I could be there with you. It’s hard being so far away from you normally, but especially when you’re not feeling good and you need me there to take care of you. I just feel like the world’s worst boyfriend.” He sighed out, hoping that his honesty would earn him some points back into your good graces.

“I know, Shawn,” you sighed. “I’m sorry too. I’m just frustrated and wish you were here with me, but I understand that you’re needed there now. I think I am going to go though, I really do want to try and get some more rest.”

“Okay, sleep well, Y/N,” Shawn murmured, still not feeling right about the bizarre little argument that the two of you had somehow found yourselves in. “I hope you start feeling better soon. Please call me if anything happens.”

“I will,” you promised softly, your head still throbbing from the conversation. “Have a good show tonight.”

“Thanks, gorgeous. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay, bye.”

You placed the phone back onto the bedside table, snuggling further under the covers and hoping that sleep would claim you quickly in order to offer a bit of a reprieve from the constant pain you had been in for the past few days.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were awakened by a sharp, stabbing pain in your right side that instantly had you gasping and clutching your abdomen. Okay, you thought to yourself, this is definitely not normal. Tears slipped down your face as you wondered what you should do. You were all alone at the apartment. Your parents lived over an hour away, too far for them to come pick you up and drive you to the hospital in time. You didn’t understand what was going on with you, but you knew it was something serious that needed to be dealt with as quickly as possible.

As you pondered what to do, you remembered a conversation that you had had with Shawn’s mom not too long ago when you were discussing her son and his insane traveling schedule. If you ever need anything while Shawn’s away, don’t hesitate to give me a call, okay sweetie?

At the time, you hadn’t planned on calling with anything. You were a big girl and you could take care of yourself after all. However, this was a situation that was definitely out of your hands. Therefore, as quickly as you could you grabbed your phone, searching for the name, and dialing.

“Hello?” A voice answered on the other end of the line and you almost sobbed in relief.

“Karen?” You questioned, tears falling down your face in pain and fear. “Can I ask for a favor?”

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Shawn walked off stage after his big show with a large grin plastered across his face and sweat dripping from his brow. Wow, he thought to himself. I cannot believe I just did that! Selling out and playing Wembley Stadium had always been a dream of his, one that he could not believe had actually come true. The only thing that would make this better would be if his girlfriend could be here to share this moment with him.

He sighed, thoughts wandering to the conversation he had had with her before the show had started. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper and snap at her like he did, but he had just been so frustrated and by so many things. Yes, he loved his job and he relished these opportunities to travel and share his music with his fans, but it was so hard sometimes. And then he felt guilty for feeling that way. Like he was ungrateful or something. His fans were the reason he was able to live out his dream, travel the world, write music, meet so many other incredible artists, and so on and so on. If being away from loved ones was his price to pay, it wasn’t that immense in the grand scheme of everything. However, there were times, times like today, where that was hard to believe and if he was being truly honest with himself, where he would trade anything in the world in order to be by your side, including sacrificing his music career.

He walked further backstage, already feeling that post-show adrenaline high beginning to fade. Performing in front of thousands of people was truly a feeling like no other, one that he couldn’t even begin to put into words, even years later and well into his music career.

Walking into his dressing room, he grabbed his phone that he had left sitting haphazardly on the couch and opened it up, noticing he had three missed calls from his mom. He furrowed his brows in confusion. That was odd, he thought to himself.  His mom knew that he had a performance tonight. What if something’s wrong?His mind immediately going into a panicked state, worrying that something was wrong with his dad or with Aaliyah.

Before he could click on her contact name in order to call her back and figure out what on earth was going on, Andrew came speeding into his dressing room, a frantic expression glued to his face as his eyes landed on Shawn sitting there, confused and worried.

“Andrew?” He questioned, further descending into a state of panic, already figuring that whatever had Andrew on edge was the same thing that had caused his mom to call him multiple times despite the fact that she knew he was in the middle of a show. “What happened?” He asked, already fearing the answer.

“It’s Y/N,” Andrew choked out, eyes wide and fearful, dreading the task of delivering this news to Shawn.

Shawn felt his heart stop as he heard those two words before it kicked into overdrive, practically beating out of his chest. He tried to take a deep breath, calming himself. Okay, Shawn, just calm down, I’m sure she’s fine! I mean, she’s been at home sick all day. What possibly could have happened to her in the safety of your own home?

Thoughts and possibilities immediately rushed into his mind, his thoughts rushing to all sorts of horrible and somewhat ridiculous alternatives.

“Shawn!” Andrew yelled, pulling him out of his downward spiral. “Did you hear what I said?”

Shawn, unable to form coherent words at the moment, simply shook his head in response, anxiously awaiting his manager’s next words.

“Y/N started experiencing intense stomach pain not too long after your show started,” he began, trying to relay the information as smoothly and calmly as possible so as not to distress Shawn any more than necessary. “She called your mom, who took her to the hospital, but while they were on their way there, Y/N lost consciousness. It turns out she hadn’t had the stomach flu these past few days, but appendicitis. Her appendix burst in the car on the drive to the hospital. She’s in the operating room now, they’re doing emergency surgery as we speak.”

If Shawn wouldn’t have already been sitting, he would have fallen to the floor as he heard this news. His world completely stopped. Not you, he thought in agony. He couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you. He felt like he was in shock, slightly disbelieving that this was even happening to him right now. This had to be some horrible dream that he would wake up from any second now only to find you safe and secure by his side. However, deep down he knew this wasn’t a dream that he could easily awaken from, but real life. You were truly in the hospital at that very moment, unconscious and being cut into. His hands started to shake and tears started forming in his eyes as he thought about you, all alone in your apartment, realizing that you were so sick and in so much pain that you needed to go to the emergency room. And he hadn’t been there for you.That thought hit him like a ton of bricks. He was the worst boyfriend in the entire world. That same sentiment slammed into him, causing the tears to well and truly flow down his cheeks now in an unending torrent.

He jumped up, grabbing random things around him and stuffing them in the backpack that had been thrown carelessly on the floor only a few hours earlier. “I have to go,” he mumbled distractedly, mind running a million different directions, but his one focus being consistent: you. He had to get to you. He didn’t care how, all he knew was that he had to get to you. Now. “I have to see her, she has to be okay,” he cried, slowly crumbling before Andrew’s eyes. “I need to be there with her!” He shouted.

Andrew flinched slightly, eyes widened in sympathy. “I already took care of it, Shawn. I booked you the next flight back home. You leave in two hours and there’s a car waiting outside the stadium to take you to the airport. I’ve already talked to the manager’s here about postponing your show tomorrow. Y/N’s more important right now.”

Shawn breathed out a sigh of relief, glad that Andrew was understanding. He didn’t have the energy at the moment to throw a big fit about the necessity of leaving if Andrew had insisted he needed to stay for the show. “Thank you, man, I owe you one,” he stated, already making his way towards the door and dialing his mom’s number to alert her that he was on his way.

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The sound of steady beeping pierced through your consciousness, slowly bringing you back into awareness of the world around you. Blinking against the harsh light that welcomed you once you finally opened your eyes, you looked around, noticing that you were in a small hospital room.

Well, this can’t be good, you thought to yourself, not quite remembering how you had gotten here, what happened, or even what day it was.

Looking down, you noticed an IV poking out of your arm and you grimaced. You hated needles. At least you didn’t remember the actual moment of its insertion. That was a small relief.

As you continued to come to, you noticed that the pain in your abdomen had faded from that sharp, stabbing, unbearable pain to now a dull ache that was definitely more manageable than the former had been.

“You’re awake!” A relieved voice exclaimed from the doorway, causing you to turn your head at the noise only to be greeted by Karen, Shawn’s mom. She quickly set down the cup of coffee that was in her hand that she had presumably just returned from obtaining, before sitting down in the chair beside your bed and grabbing the hand that didn’t have the IV in place. “I have been so worried about you, sweetheart. You gave me a downright scare there, fainting on me like that!”

“I did?” You questioned. You didn’t remember that part. But then again, the last thing you could recall was waking up from your nap in unspeakable pain. So surely Shawn’s mom would be aware of the true nature of events. “What happened?” You asked hesitantly, wondering if you even wanted to know what had led to you waking up in the hospital. “Am I okay?”

“Yeah, sweetie, you’re going to be just fine. You gave us all quite a scare, though,” she soothed, smoothing your hair down comfortingly.

“What happened?” You questioned again, anxiety rising higher with each passing moment.

“Shh, shh, shh,” she reassured. “Everything’s just fine, I promise. You had a pretty nasty case of appendicitis though,” she explained softly, once again grabbing your hand in reassurance. “Your symptoms over the past few days weren’t signs of the stomach flu, although they could be easily mistaken, but it was really appendicitis.”

You winced, knowing that appendicitis was not something to take lightly. People have died in the past from that. Why, oh why hadn’t you just gone to the doctor earlier? You knew that something had been seriously wrong. “How did I get here, though?”

“You called me up yesterday afternoon. You were in an awful amount of pain and you asked if I could drive you to the emergency room, but when we were on the way over here, you lost consciousness,” she stated, wincing slightly at the memory. “Thankfully, we weren’t very far away at that point and we were able to get you inside quickly and then up to surgery to have your appendix removed and your abdomen cleaned out.”

Your breaths started coming quicker and more raggedly. You had undergone surgery?! The girl who was terrified of having an IV put in, had gone through major surgery? You didn’t know what to think, panicking at the fact that if you hadn’t called Shawn’s mom when you did, you would likely be dead in your apartment right now. No one would have been able to get you to the hospital in time if your appendix had truly been that close to rupturing. Oh, God.

Shawn! You couldn’t even imagine what would have happened if Shawn had found out that you had died in your apartment from a burst appendix. Speaking of Shawn, did he know where you were? What had happened? He must be so worried! “Shawn- “you choked out, barely able to get that one syllable out as you felt worry rising within you like a wave.

Karen seemed to have sensed where you were going with this however and quickly reassured you. “I called Shawn once they took you up for surgery. He was in the middle of his show, so he didn’t get the message until it finished. He’s on his way here now though. He hopped on the first available flight. He should be here any minute actually,” she revealed softly.

You let out a quick breath, feeling slightly at ease that Shawn wasn’t halfway across the world, unknowing of your current condition. He would be here soon. It would all be okay. Shawn was coming. You would be in his arms soon enough. A few tears trickled down your cheeks and Karen pulled you in for a swift hug, knowing you just needed to be held at the moment and if her son couldn’t be here right now, she would be happy to fill in until he got here.

Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait too long. Not even five minutes later, they heard the door softly push open and a tired, fearful voice quietly stutter out your name in question. “Y/N?”

Your head shot up, immediately making eye contact with your beloved boyfriend, who looked absolutely horrible at the moment. His eyes were bloodshot, hair a mess from running his hands through them in worry, and a shirt that you recognized as being one of his tour shirts half-unbuttoned and slightly askew on his tall frame.

“Shawn,” you breathed out in relief, a new batch of tears already beginning to make their way down your cheeks.

Karen quickly stepped out of the way, a small smile gracing her lips as she beheld the love between her son and his girlfriend. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” she murmured, grabbing her purse and squeezing Shawn’s arm briefly before making her way out of the room.

Not even a second after the door had swung shut, Shawn had you in his arms, tears falling freely and unashamedly down his face. “You’re okay,” he sobbed, tightening his hold on you and burying his face into your hair, breathing in your scent. “You’re really okay. I was so scared something was going to go wrong and you weren’t going to make it,” he admitted, shuddering at the thoughts that had been plaguing his mind for the entire ten-hour flight that he had had to endure.

He pulled away slightly to press his lips fiercely against yours and you quickly returned the action, pouring all the love and reassurance that you could into that kiss. “I’m okay,” you whispered softly, once you both pulled away, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks.

He placed his hands over your own, smiling slightly at you despite the tears that were still falling down his face. You wiped them away gently, taking in each of his features, relieved to finally have him by your side.

“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here, baby,” he wept. “I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you. If my mom hadn’t been there. I – I…” he trailed off, words failing him as the tears fell harder. You gently pulled him into your arms, stroking his hair softly.

“Shhhh,” you murmured softly, doing your best to comfort him, knowing just how hard he was on himself. This was not going to be something that he forgot easily. “I’m okay, Shawn. I’m okay. We’re both here together and we’re safe and we’re okay. That’s what matters. Nothing else is important right now, alright?” You tried your best to convince him that this wasn’t his fault. It was some freak accident that none of you could have anticipated and he shouldn’t beat himself up about it. It was out of anyone’s hands, especially his own.

He nodded weakly, head still buried in your chest. His sniffles were slowly calming down however, which you took as a good sign.

He pulled away to bring you in for a sweet kiss. “I love you so much,” he murmured against your lips before peppering kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle in response. He was just the cuddliest, sweetest boy you had ever met and you were beyond grateful to have him here by you side.

“Wait!” You gasped, sitting up, causing Shawn to snap to attention, thinking that something was wrong. “What about your show tonight, Shawn?” You asked. “You had two more in London, right?”

Shawn gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled at you softly. “Don’t worry about it, baby. Andrew took care of it. We’ll do make up shows sometime soon, but right now this is where I belong.”

You smiled up at him, wondering how you had ever gotten so lucky as to have this incredible man in your life. “I love you, Shawn,” you whispered, wanting him to know just how much it meant to you to have him here with you and for him being so willing to drop everything to be by your side in your hour of need.

He grinned in response. “I love you more, Y/N. I’m so glad that you’re okay. You’re my anchor in this crazy world. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Luckily, you’ll never have to find out. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Shawn,” you stated sweetly before bringing him in for another sweet kiss.

[nubnubblr]

If You Do. 24 Thea’s Birthday {Part.3}

CHARLIE

"I thought you said you were almost done?" I heard Thea talking to someone from the kitchen.

"Everyone was still asleep," Doobin replied nonchalantly.

"Are you feeding an army? Do we even have any food left in here?" She joked.

"Do you know how many people are currently asleep in your house?" he retorted.

"Do you know how much they eat? Especially after a night of drinking?" Austin added.

"Honestly I  have no idea,"

"What is that? Are you making soup for breakfast?"

"Kind of," Doobin said as the same time Austin commented;

"He made bacon and eggs," with what sounded like a mouthful.

"Wait, s that hangover soup?" Thea asked clearly ignoring Austin.

"Your pantry looks like a Korean grocery store, what did you expect me to do?"

"Okay, you're cool,"

I stretched getting out of bed, Yuri was still fast asleep which wasn't a surprise. Sora was curled up between our heads, she glared at me when I turned the light on to find my pants. She wasn't a fan of the light in the morning.

I walked out of my room and Shawn was coming out of Thea's, he wasn't wearing a shirt, he looked like he was still half asleep, he half smiled and gestured for me to go first, I wasn't so sure I wanted to if Doobin was in the kitchen, I was a little worried that Doobin would pull a face and Shawn would see it.

I tried to avoid looking at him as I walked through into the dining room, Austin was sitting at the table with a plate with eggs, bacon, tomato, mushrooms, what looked like a sausage, and baked beans, all piled on top of two pieces of toast. Thea was leaning over the counter watching Doobin move freely through our kitchen cooking away.

I frowned at her, she never lets anyone in 'her' kitchen, I swear half the time she barely lets me in there and now she has Doobin cooking awake like it's his kitchen. Ignoring the fact that sometimes she kicks other people out of their own kitchen.

"Morning," Thea greeted.

Doobin looked over and gave me a vaguely irritated look, I was assuming it had something to do with last night. Shawn and Austin had taken Thea to bed after a struggle and some tantrums from THea,  anyone who hadn't left ended up sleeping in the lounge room, also due to Thea, she didn't want the party to end and insisted that those who weren't drinking because they had to drive home could just stay here. It didn't take a lot of convincing.

Doobin had taken the opportunity of his brother being distracted with Thea to head to my room, he wasn't so impressed with the fact that it was already occupied by Yuri, he was even less impressed by Yuri's offer of a threesome. Instead, he slept in the lounge room with everyone else.

"Were you hungover this morning?" I frowned.

"When am I ever hungover?" she frowned.

"Then why is someone else in your kitchen? And why are they cooking?"

"He cooks right, he's making Asian food," she shrugged.

"And why is he naked?" I added.

"He has pants and an apron on," she said after a slight pause, clearly not realising he wasn't wearing a shirt before now.

"It's summertime, it's hot. Why would they be wearing a shirt? Did you wear clothes to bed?" she defended.

"That doesn't count, she got laid," Yuri came up behind me, winking at Doobin who frowned and turned his attention back to cooking.

BM

"Are you both just going to sulk around here?" Jae frowned at us.

"I have no reason to go over there," I shrugged.

"I don't feel like going out,"

"Liar, you're mad Charlie is sleeping with Yuri," he frowned at Sam.

"We both know it would have been you if you weren't injured, so you only have yourself and BM to blame," he added.

"And you're being a child about something that happened years ago,"

"She slept with my friend," I defended.

"Charlie slept with my friend, you don't see me getting my panties in a knot," he rolled his eyes.

"She kept it a secret,"

"Because no one wants to admit that they slept with Drew,"

"Just take my keys and drive yourself over there," I frowned.

"Fine be bitches," he huffed leaving.

I looked over at same who had slouched himself into the couch, his head resting on the back of it facing the ceiling, his eyes were closed. He'd been like this since we left last night, maybe before then. If I was to guess he has probably been like this since Charlie slept with Jae's bass player, which meant he was already too far along in the Charlie coaster to actually stop the rid. But that didn't mean he couldn't be distracted from it.

"What?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"How are you doing?" I asked casually.

"My shoulder hurts,"

"Uhuh, so you're not actually annoyed that Charlie slept with Yuri, or Jae's bass player, instead of you?"

"WHo she sleeps with is her business,"

"You know, if she's sleeping with other people, there isn't anything stopping you from doing the same,"

"I know you're trying to help, but I don't need you to so can you please stop," he sighed.

"I'm just saying, it's not healthy to be stuck in a one-sided relationship your whole life,"

"If you keep judging all of our choices and feelings you're going to have no friends left," he gave me a look before getting up.

THEA

"Thea," Charlie raised an eyebrow at me.

"Huh?" I looked at her.

"What are you doing?" she smirked already knowing exactly what I had been doing.

I hadn't realised that Doobin wasn't wearing a shirt until she had said something about it, not I kept getting distracted by his back. Seriously, dancer bodies were so unfair.

"Making sure he doesn't screw up," I shrugged.

Doobin turned around frowning at me, I had to bit my tongue so I didn't tell him to turn back around because I was looking at his back. I didn't quite understand why it was so difficult for Charlie to not sleep with him until right now, I don't really think I should be keeping her from that body. Even if that's what she wanted me to do, she was clearly getting too stuck on his age and it's not like he wasn't old enough to consent.

"Turn around, you're the exact same and you know it. He throws a tantrum when you've cooked in his kitchen. He refused to cook in it all day because he claims you screwed with his Feng Shui,"

"And then I have to starve," Koosung came wandering up the hallway fully clothed which was disappointing.

"Why are you all half-naked?" he raised an eyebrow at Yuri, Austin and Shawn, who were sitting at the kitchen table eating shirtless. There were absolutely no complaints from me.

"Because it was hot and suits aren't comfortable to sleep in," Austin answered.

"Your shirt was sleeveless and he was the only one wearing a suit,"

"Koosung, shut up and have some breakfast," I stated.

"Perve," he retorted.

"No one is stopping you from taking your shirt off, that outfit would be really attractive with no shirt and the sleeves of your jumpsuit tied around your waist," I commented.

"Morning," Jinwoo wandered through wearing exactly that, no shirt and the top half of his jumpsuit tied around his waist to stop the bottom half from falling off.

"Like that," I nodded.

"Is this why you are friends with just guys? So you can check them out?" Austin asked.

"It doesn't hurt," I shrugged.

"Sup homies," Jae walked through the back door.

"Why aren't you cooking?" he frowned at me.

"Doobin is cooking," I shrugged.

"No, I did not drive myself over here for some kid to easy bake oven my breakfast," he shook his head.

There was a chorus of 'Hey' and 'he can cook'. Doobin looked less than impress being referred to as a kid and annoyed at the insult to his cooking ability. Not that Jae cared if he insulted someone, it was his favourite pastime.

"If you don't want his cooking then get back in the car and drive yourself home," I retorted, he just pulled a face at me sitting down at the table.

"Can you lower your voice?" Junsun grumbled walking through the house, unfortunately, he was wearing a shirt, but even more tragically he wasn't wearing pants.

"Can you put on pants before you sit down on our dining chairs," Charlie frowned at him.

"Shhh," he frowned at her waving his hand sitting down across from her.

"Hangover first aid is on the table," I laughed.

"Hangover first aid is anywhere you aren't" he frowned.

"Rude," I retorted.

"It's your fault we're hungover," Koosung reentered the room after using the bathroom. he was shielding his eyes and rubbing his temples at the same time.

"You're grown-ass adults, you can make your own decisions," I picked up my phone to message Jackson. He didn't seem to stay long last night, I only saw him when he arrived and then at some point he must have just slipped out without saying goodbye.

Thea: Hey, sorry about last night I wasn't trying to be rude there were just a lot of people. Why did you leave without saying goodbye?

"You're a grown-ass adult, you should know when to stop drinking," Koosung retorted joining the other boys at the table, each one varying in the severity of their hangover.

CHARLIE

Jae opened his mouth to speak, I was assuming it was something about Thea's height, but Junsun seemed to beat him too it.

"I wouldn't say she's grown exactly, she's like two feet tall," he mumbled.

Jae frowned, I don't think he was okay with someone else attacking his nemesis, especially with an insult that was probably about to come out of his own mouth.

"How about you shut up?" she stated.

"I thought you were supposed to be the kitchen troll? Why is Doobin doing your job?"

"Is your hangover making you grumpy?" she patronised.

"How can someone so small drink so much and be completely fine in the morning?" Koosung shook his head.

"It's because she's so little, clearly it takes less time to metabolise,"

"Where did you learn such a big word?" she retorted.

"Play nice," Shawn gave her a look.

"Why are you on his side?" she frowned.

"Bros before hoes," Junsun muttered.

"I'm not taking sides, but he is hungover because you convinced us all to keep drinking with you even after everyone else went home," Shawn stated. He didn't really have a hangover, but he had also babysat Thea all night.

"You should probably stop drinking, you turn into way more of a mess than normal," Junsun advised.

"Says the guy who is sitting at a kitchen table hungover, not wearing pants," Jae stated. He had continued to frown the whole time Thea and Junsun had bantered back and forth.

"It's hot,"

"Most guys take off their shirt, as shown by everyone else here, you decided to take off your pants, normally that's what the girls do, what with them having boobs,"

"Jeans make me uncomfortable,"

"Your legs make me uncomfortable," he retorted.

THEA

The two continued to bicker back and forth, I sat down next to Charlie.

"How early did Jackson leave last night?" I frowned checking my phone.

"Do you really want to know?" she gave me a face.

"I really don't like it when you pull that face," I sighed.

"Is it that time already?" Jae's face lit up.

"Crap," I sighed again closing my eyes.

"Is it what time?" Austin asked.

"My favourite part of the morning after a night of drunk Thea. I like to call it 'Thea's Entertainingly Embarrassing Drunken Event Recap' or TEEDER for short," Jae was like a kid n a candy shop.

"Can we just skip over the TEEDER?"

"No, no we can not. I got out of my bed for two things this morning, breakfast, and TEEDER. As you can see, my plate is full of breakfast," he smirked.

"I hate you," I sighed.

"We were all there though, we seen it all," Austin shrugged.

"That's true, except when Thea gets drunk, she might not get an actual hangover but me telling her everything from the night before is basically as painful and as nauseating as having a real hangover, because she doesn't remember a single thing,"

"Seriously? You don't remember a thing?" Austin seemed surprised.

"I remember Haka showing up, and the orange-haired guy, vaguely Yuri arriving but after that nothing," I shook my hair.

"Did you actually sleep with the orange-haired guy?" I turned to Charlie.

"His name is Brian," Jae stated.

"What am I missing?"

"Brian is Jae's new bass player," Charlie mumbled.

"Did he play your bass?" I smirked.

"So who wants to fill her in on what happened between Yuri's arrival and mine?" Jae frowned.

"There was literally ten minutes between You and Yuri," Shawn stated.

"It's drunk Thea, there is a lot that can happen in ten minutes," he stated seriously.

"She tried to tell me off for being late then cried when I told her I was late because my cat was sick, that's all that happened," Yuri stated.

"Lyolik was sick?" I frowned.

"Yeah, kind of like that but with tears," Yuri nodded pointing at me.

"He's fine now," Charlie stated, I relaxed.

"Okay then," Jae smirked and began to list of the things that I had done, including trying to sleep with Benji. My drunken apology to BM for lying to him about sleeping with Drew, Jae felt it necessary to add that BM didn't apologise to me for being an ass.

"That's all?" I was a little surprised.

"No, I saved the best part for last," he beamed.

"Once you realised Jackson was there, you called him over. Shawn needed to go to the bathroom so Jackson said he would watch you. In those five minutes that Shawn was gone, you painfully flirted with him, tried to kiss him, which he was grossly polite and gentlemanly about, not taking advantage of you at all. Then you felt like you were going to be sick, he tried to help you to for feet, you got difficult arguing because you didn't want to move, you ended up elbowing him in the face, then you threw up all over him,"

I could feel the blood drain from my face.

JACKSON

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I ignored it and tried to go back to sleep, we hadn't gotten home until early hours this morning and then I had to shower which only woke me up so I hadn't actually gotten into bed until about 5 am, and then I don't even know what time I actually got to sleep.

I had almost asleep when my phone buzzed again, I let out a sigh, I wasn't sure what the time was so it could have been anyone, I decided that I should just check it in case it was my parents. I also figured that it would probably just go off again if I tried to go back to sleep.

It wasn't my parents, it was Thea. Even after last night, I couldn't bring myself to be mad at her, I couldn't really bring myself to be anything but concerned about how she was feeling. The first message brought a frown to my face. The second message made me laugh at how cute she was.

Thea: Hey, sorry about last night I wasn't trying to be rude there were just a lot of people. Why did you leave without saying goodbye?

Thea: So please ignore the last message, I've just been reminded of what I did last night. I'm so sorry, this is so embarrassing, I can't believe that I did that, you must have been completely horrified. I'm sorry that you came out to a party just to be ignored and thrown upon. I'm so mortified. Uh, message me later? You know, if you're not too grossed out by me.... again, I'm so sorry...

I wasn't sure how to respond, I thought it was cute that she managed to ramble even through text message. I could only imagine how embarrassed she was, and it wasn't entirely her fault that she had thrown upon me, she had basically force-fed food to soak up some of the alcohol and Shawn had warned me not to get too close, especially when her face contorted. I just thought that he had meant to stay out of the way of her tantrums.

She had gotten a little worked up when Shawn had tried to help her when she got up to go to the bathroom, she had insisted that she hadn't needed help, now that I think about it I think that she knew she was going to be sick. I tried to help him with her, she had started swinging her arms around, I ended up with an elbow to the face, seconds before she emptied her stomach all over my suit. She was kind of cute up until that point.

CHARLIE

She looked completely pale, kind of like she was going to throw up again.

"Do you see? This is what I live for," Jae smirked getting comfortable in his chair stuffing his face with breakfast.

"Please tell me he's exaggerated," she turned to Shawn with a hopeful look. Shawn pulled a face looking down at his own breakfast.

"It really wasn't a pretty sight," Austin commented.

"I did warn him not to get too close," Shawn stated.

"I should really stop drinking," she dropped her head to the table.

There was a mixture of agreements and laughing. This was the usual reaction when she did something stupid, she would get the complete and detailed recap from Jae, hates herself, says she should stop drinking, but never actually sticks to it. It's kind of like when people regret drinking when they wake up with a hangover but they don't really think twice about drinking at the next gathering.

I never understood it, the choice to drink, I hate the feeling, I hate the taste and it's not worth the hangover in the morning. Not to mention the cost of alcohol is ridiculous.

"Why do you always ruin my day?"

"It's fun for me,"

"I think he's just jealous that you're sleeping with everyone but him," I shrugged,

"I think I'm going to be sick," Thea groaned.

"Don't you think you did enough of that last night?"

"He's never going to want to see me again," she sighed.

"It wasn't that bad," Shawn patted her shoulder.

"Are you kidding me? She projectile vomited all over the guy she likes, how exactly is that not that bad?" Junsun stated.

"Shut up," Austin stated.

"I'm just saying,"

"Look at her face, you don't need to be saying anything," Austin frowned.

"How about you all just shut up and eat your breakfast?" I suggested.

"Here," Doobin placed a bowl of soup in front of me.

"Uh, what is this?" I frowned.

"Soup," he turned around and walked back to the kitchen.

"Why?"

"Thea said you don't eat breakfast, I figured you could drink it," he stated.

"Oh my god," I heard her mutter.

"That kid, I swear," Shawn sighed shaking his head.

"Why does she get soup?" Jae frowned.

"Because shut up," Thea stated.

"What? I like soup," Jae rolled his eyes at her.

"So, do you still want to sleep with Nice Back?" Thea changed the subject. I stared at her wide-eyed.

"What? No one know's who I'm talking about,"

"Who is Nice Back?" Jae frowned.

"A guy we saw while we were shopping yesterday," I answered slowly, I could see Doobin smirking in my peripheral.

"He had a nice back," Thea nodded.

"You two are weird," Austin frowned.

"So?" Thea ignored him.

"Let's have this conversation later," I stated.

"I'll take that as a yes," she muttered.

"Stop," I stared at her.

"I'm just saying, maybe you should go and find him and just sleep with him," she shrugged.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, just get it out of your system,"

[lyllyan-weiss]

LONG Character Survey: Lyllyan Weiss

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Lyllyan Aster Weiss

NICKNAME: Lyl, Lily, Lil' Lily.

AGE: 21

BIRTHDAY: 11th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon (November 10th)

ETHNIC GROUP: Auri|Xaela (In Eorzea)/ Human (Out of World)

NATIONALITY: Eorzean (In Eorzea)/American (Out of World)

LANGUAGES: Eorzean, Draconic, basically anything due to the echo.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: She is Bi. Swings both ways. She loves all.

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Depending on the different routes on the story, she will be either single or taken.

CLASS: Jack-of-all-trades

•Knows everything and knows how to play everything.

• Favors caster classes above everything else.

HOMETOWN / AREA: N/A

CURRENT HOMETOWN / AREA: Shirogane is where her apartment is, but she sees Ishgard as her home that she spends her time in, and then the Crystarium had became home to her as well.

PROFESSION: Scion, Adventurer, Full time hero in both her world and Eorzea. In her world she is a waitress and an artist/animator.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Right now it is Brown with Light brown Highlights

EYES: Purple (Right), Green (Left)

NOSE: Small and Sharp

LIPS: Small and full

COMPLEXION: Pale but fair.

BLEMISHES: None.

SCARS: In Eorzea, her scars are battle scars that is more aligned on her back. They do not show up when she is in her world.

TATOOS: The Scion Tatoo on the part where the neck and back meet.

HEIGHT: 5'0

WEIGHT: 130lb (Eorzea)/ 150lb (Her World)

BUILD: Short, Thin and fit.

FEATURES: None really.

ALLERGIES: Rolanberries in Eorzea, Strawberries in her world.

USUAL HAIRSTYLE: Long hair with a half braid in the back in Eorzea. In her world she has short hair that stops in the middle of her neck.

USUAL FACE LOOK: Warm color Eye shadow applied lightly to the eyes and a very nude color for lipstick in Eorzea. In her world, she hardly puts make up on, but usually has dark circles due to being tired all the time.

USUAL CLOTHING: Depending on her mood, she'll go very modest, or wearing a bikini with thigh boots. In her world, she is always modest with usually a t-shirt and sweats.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEARS: Bugs (Mainly Arachnids, spiders are the worst.) Antilions that hide in the sands. Losing her love ones. Becoming Sin Eater. Being alone. Falling.

ASPIRATIONS: Explore all of the worlds she could go to, but also to make animations that can change the world.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Stubborn, happy go lucky, Compassionate, tries to take care of everyone, protective, loving, friendly, trusting.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Stubborn enough to push past her limits, usually getting her hurt. She so selfless that she tends to forget about taking care of herself. She can be too trusting of others that she often gets hurt in the end. She usually bottles her problems with the worry of being a burden to others. Very emotional driven (Just ask Ser Zephirin).

ZODIAC: Scorpio.

TEMPERAMENT: Artistic and Motherly

SOUL TYPE(S): The Priest, The Artisan, The Server.

ANIMALS: Cat

VICE HABIT(S): From the definition that I read, her faults are that she feels like anything bad that happens to her or her friends are her fault, and that she sometimes Envy others. But her hobbies that she enjoys are reading, triple triad, drawing, and writing.

FAITH: The Twelve. Even in her world she believes in the Twelve.

GHOSTS?: Definitely

AFTERLIFE?: I hope there is one.

REINCARNATION?: Well so far that we know, reincarnation is a thing, right?

ALIENS?: I doubt the world was made for one type of civilization, plus multiple worlds. Yes.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Uh...Alphinaud does politics for me.

ECONOMIC PREFERENCE: Just trying to survive, man. Stable, I guess.

SOCIO POLITICAL POSITION: Uh... Alphinaud???

EDUCATION LEVEL: Lyllyan herself has had up to some college in her own world. In Eorzea, she has an understanding of Aether and well has learned all the classes, so being able to pick up something new, she can learn fairly quick.

FAMILY.

FATHER: Captain Carebear (Mykel Weiss)

MOTHER: She doesn't have the ability to go to Eorzea so her name is Lynn Weiss.

Siblings: Lucas Weiss(Rafien Dalarain(Deactivated)), Nathaniel Weiss(Random Guy (deactivated)), Olivia Weiss (Never been to Eorzea).

EXTENDED FAMILY: Grandmother(Nana)(Deceased), Granfather(Poppy), Fortemps Family (Rest in Peace Haucherfaunt).

NAME MEANING(S): Lyllyan is based off of the Lily flower. Aster is based off of the Aster flower, and then Weiss is a name given to those with white hair or pale complexion.

HISTORICAL CONNECTION: Um...Ascian? Amourotine?

FAVORITES.

BOOK: If its Manga, It's Rurouni Kenshin. Books would be the 'Septimus Heap' series by Angie Sage.

MOVIE/PLAY: Movie would be 'Wizard of Oz'. Favorite Play would be 'Hamilton'.

5 SONGS:

•'Seasonal Feathers' by Len and Rin Kagamine

•'Drakkar' by Distrion and Electro-Light

•'Light it Up' by Robin Hustin and TobiMorrow (feat. Jex)

•'Stitches' by Shawn Mendes

•'Perfect' by Ed Sheeran

DEITY: Thaliak

HOLIDAY: Valentione

MONTH: November/ 6th Astral Moon

SEASON: Spring

PLACE: Rak'Tika Greatwoods

WEATHER: Rain

SOUND: Ocean waves.

SCENT(S): Cherry Blossom, sweet.

TASTE(S): Favorite food is Bacon so....also likes sweet things.

FEEL(S): Fuzzy blankets, warm cloth, soft.

ANIMALS: She loves all animals! If she had to narrow it down, it would be Cats, Pandas, and Chocobos. Does Pokemon count?

NUMBER: 8 but screw Construct 8

COLORS: Purple, light green, light blue.

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Drawing.

BAD AT: Math. She used to bring her homework to Eorzea to have Alphinaud and Urianger help her.

TURN ONS: Oooo. Funny, kind, calm, generous, but also romantic.

TURN OFFS: Selfish, rude ass hoe, and killing my friends.

HOBBIES: Singing, Drawing, Reading, Exploring, Triple Triad.

TROPES: Mother Hen.

AESTHETIC TAGS: Chocolate and Caramel. Honey. Lavender and Leaves. I think that's how this works???

FC INFO.

MAIN FC(S): Scions of the Dawn. It consist of Dad and myself.

ALT FC(S): None.

OLDER FC(S): We did have an FC on Gilgamesh called Lionheart with the Tag FF8. It was one that we had started the game when we got out of beta, but moved to different server/data center.

YOUNGER FC(S): *Confused Au Ra noises*

VOICE CLAIM(S): ??????

GENDERBENT FC(S): *Even more confused Au Ra noises*

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: IF YOU COULD WRITE YOUR CHARACTER YOUR WAY IN THEIR OWN MOVIE, WHAT WOULD IT BE CALLED, WHAT STYLE WOULD IT BE FILMED IN, AND WHAT WOULD IT BE ABOUT?

•So, I'm already making a comic that I want to make as an animation for the story of FFXIV with my character and her friends. This character was specifically built for FFXIV, but it has a twist. Kinda like a Sword Art Online ordeal, but instead of Millions of people playing are stuck in the world, it's just like 100, but they aren't stuck, in fact they are just chosen to go between their world and Eorzea. If they die, they don't actually die, but respawn, even in their own world, but they feel how they die and the only way for them to die in any shape or form is by natural cause like old age or sickness. This would be a 2D animation in the anime style and be a multi episode series with multiple seasons. I even though about branching out to go certain routes so that Lyllyan can end up with all my favorite characters. I would call it Final Fantasy XIV: A World Reborn.

Q2: WHAT WOULD THEIR SOUNDTRACK/SCORE SOUND LIKE?

•With it being a Final Fantasy story, it would have Final Fantasy Music.

Q3: WHY DID YOU START WRITING THIS CHARACTER?

•Lyllyan Weiss was made to represent me and she still does, but also inspires me to be more like my courageous heroic self. Because of this, I have been able to do things like crossing a bridge that's in bad shape to get to the other side without the fear of falling, just to get back to my mom who went to the other side on a trip we had.

Q4: WHAT FIRST ATTRACTED YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?

•She is literally me.

Q5: DESCRIBE THE BIGGEST THING YOU DISLIKE ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

•Just like me, she is stubborn and hard working, but there are times she pushes herself way too much. She hesitates to ask for help, not because she doesn't trust the people around her, but more of trying to not burden them. Others wish she would open up to them and also rest when she can. Raha has to literally force her to rest, and she nearly gets herself killed against the first battle with Rahjit because she kept getting back up to fight even when the others beg her to stop.

Q6: WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN COMMON WITH YOUR MUSE?

•Almost everything. Major thing is that she doesn't look like me, but also I know when to quit.

Q7: HOW DOES YOUR MUSE FEEL ABOUT YOU?

• I feel like if Lyllyan and I were to meet in person, we'd get along just fine. We would play video games all day long if we could.

Q8: WHAT CHARACTERS DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE INTERESTING INTERACTIONS WITH?

•OH BOI HERE WE GOOO

- Leveilleur Twins: Alphinaud and Alisaie are very close to Lyllyan. Alphinaud used to pull Lyllyan out of class to have her hurry up and go through the story, now its chill and play ace attorney. Alphinaud, depending on what route is taken, is definitely in love with Lyllyan and is constantly teased about it by everyone. Alisaie is like a sister to Lyllyan. They have had many nights where the pulled 24 hours playing Sims. Alisaie is who Lyllyan tries to protect the most between the two. She's also the reason why Lyllyan is now Bi. Lyllyan absolutely adores her and if the route is taken, they end up being the cutest couple.

-Leon D'hart: An Alt character that I made that depending on the story and route, he is also Lyllyan's Lover. He is a character made by Square Enix to be the Warrior of Light replacement if Lyllyan did not succeed in preventing herself becoming a light warden. His story with her is a bunch of trial and tribulations, but in the end they do end up married.

-G'raha Tia/Crystal Exarch: The main story Lyllyan's Lover. Great friend to start out and tears were shed when he sealed himself into the tower. He really kept Lyllyan guessing when he was Exarch. When Emet-Selch kidnapped him, Lyllyan was hellbent on getting him back. Now she visits him at the first everyday bring stuff from Eorzea for him, and even occasionally stuff from her world. He is her world as she is to him.

-The Scions: Thancred and Lyllyan are like Big brother, Little sister. He protects her, and scolds her as such. They may act like they hate each other, but the moment either gets hurt, the other is at their sides. Though rumor has it that Thancred had feelings for Lyllyan. Y'shtola is close to Lyllyan, but is usually not around often. Shtola usually is often around to keep an eye on Lyllyan's aether since her amount is quite high compared to the others and her fellow Warriors of Light. Urianger is someone who used to hardly talk to Lyllyan, but started opening up more after the years. He had watched her grow from 15 moons to now 21 as the others, but they seem to be more special to him. Lyllyan swore to protect him if anything ever happened especially after he asked her her thoughts on his new attire. Tataru is a precious angel and if anyone was to hurt her, Lyllyan would kill everyone and then herself. Ryne, even though she is not a scion, she is a scion. Ryne worries about Lyllyan, but is often in awe of her. Lyllyan and Thancred adopted her, and she's ended up calling Lyllyan mom on many occasions.

-Ser Aymeric: Depending on the route, he would be Lyllyan's Lover and he tries to protect her when he can, be it politics or in war. He has a dream to journey with her, and though he can't do so with Lylyan Weiss the Au Ra, there is nothing saying he can't make a character and become a Warrior of Light himself and travel with Sakura Yue(Lyllyan's Alt).

-Zenos Yae Galvus: So this guy commits Seppuku and then shows up at Lyllyan's job as her new Bartender. They end up becoming friends through the job, and the fact that Zenos is bored out of his mind that he can't go kill people,but finding out later that he is back makes Square Enix themselves worried about this guy.

-Estinien: Lyllyan had adopted him as her Edgy Son. He hates it. He reminds her that he is older than him, and she retorts about beating him as a Lalafel. He usually starts brooding after that on a high building that usually takes Alphinaud and Ser Aymeric to get him down.

•I'm only stopping this cause there are so many more characters!!!

Q9:WHAT GIVES YOU INSPIRATION TO WRITE YOUR MUSE?

•Music and Playing Final Fantasy. Mainly XIV, but others do count too, but also reading all the other fanfiction and comics about final fantasy XIV.

Q10: HOW LONG DID THIS TAKE YOU TO COMPLETE?

About...4 hours? Maybe more? My hands definitely hurt from all the typing! XD

============

Tagged by @amandafullmetal

Tagging @ladyramora @ranier-layarte @scholarlostintime @fabledtactician

[imfreefallinall]

Could you write an imagine about a super jealous and protective Shawn? Like he sees a guy staring at you and he gets all worked up and becomes jealous? I really love those kind of imagines . Thank you in advance :)

Hi hun! Sorry for the waiting but here it is! I got a bit carried away so it’s not all about jealousy.

Love,

B

----------------

You had always been a party girl - you loved dancing, singing in the clubs and having a few drinks with friends- but you still weren’t used to these wild after parties, full of hot-looking celebrities with their expensive clothing. However, being the sensational Shawn’s girlfriend, you often had to go with him. Most of the time it was actually nice: you stayed with Alessia, sometimes with Taylor or Troye, the kindest people you could meet in the industry, and, even if at the beginning it was kinda hard, being you in a room full of them, Shawn made sure to help you get over your insecurities and just have fun. After all, a little dancing never killed anybody.

The award ceremony was good: Shawn won two categories out of three, the dinner was quite delicious and your dress soft enough to let you breathe through the evening. Not sexy, but classy.

The road to the afterparty in the limo was actually fun and the afterparty itself was exciting at the beginning: that was, until something in Shawn shifted, jaw clenched most of the time and hands grabbing your hips and hands harder than normally. You figured that maybe the alcohol he consumed was turning him a bit on, his needy and dominant side coming up to the surface, but when you started to play along, moving boldly to the rhythm of the music and swaying your hips onto his, he pulled you away, almost forcing you to sit down with him on a soft couch in a corner. You tried to speak to him, to figure out what was clearly bothering him, but the boy wouldn’t speak a word, just hold you tight against his chest.

“Shawn, if you’re not in the mood, can we at least go home? These heels are killing me.” You tried to resonate with him, obtaining an angry look.

“Y/N don’t be whiny: we just got here and you know we have to stay for at least an hour more.” He claimed, his hand gripping your thigh, something you knew he made when he was uncomfortable.

“Well at least let me go and grab a drink!” You added, already starting to stand up.

“I think you had enough for tonight, haven’t you?” He questioned, pulling you back and making you fall on his lap.

“Sorry?” You asked surprised, your eyebrows lifting suddenly.

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me.” He murmured, throwing the rest of the drink down his throat.

“Whoah, okay, Mr Dickhead. I’m not gonna let you force me to stay here and ruin my time at the same time. You’ll find me on the dance floor when you’ll get your shit together.” You said angrily, standing up with force and making your way to the dance floor, finally reaching Taylor and Dua, who invited you to dance with them.

You danced with your friends, momentarily forgetting about his angry stare on you, until he hugged you from behind, pulling you to his chest.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Let’s go home.” He shouted in your hear, trying to drag you out of the club.

“If you really think that an I’m sorry can make up for your childish behaviour, you’re completely wrong. I’m having fun right now, don’t you see I’m busy? Go home if you want.”  You knew you shouldn’t be so hard on him when he wasn’t in the mood, and you knew you’ll both regret it later, but he couldn't treat you that way without reason. You made your way to the bar, ignoring again his flustered stare on you.

“What can I give you, miss?” The barman was a charming boy, indeed, but you were too busy being angry with your boyfriend to even notice his stare on your boobs.

“The strongest drink you can make in 30 seconds.” You shouted, him nodding to you and moving around to prepare your order.

“Y/N! I didn’t know you were here!” Someone shouted from your right, and it took you a few seconds to figure out who it was.

“Justin! Hi!  Congrats on your award, man.” You smiled hugging him tightly for a few seconds.

“Thank you! How have you been?” He asks, his lips lingering more than necessary close to your ear.

"Good, yeah. What about you? Your career really took off again." You smiled, lifting your newly made drink to your plump lips and taking a sip.

"Yeah, amazing really. I don't really wanna talk about work, not when you look like that." He smiled charmingly but his words were no compliment to you.

"Justin, you know I didn't come here alone." You replied, standing back on your heels, ready to go.

"Well, it seems like you did. Where's that funny boyfriend of yours?" He laughed, making you furrow your brows.

"You're such a dick, honestly." You said angrily, brushing his hands away from your body and finishing the drink. As you walked away, looking for Shawn, you felt someone grab you from behind and force you out of the door. You panicked at first, but as soon as you saw the swallow tattoo on the hand holding your hip you relaxed and let the boy walk you more calmly to the car who was waiting for you.The ride home was long, no words shared within you two. As soon as you entered Shawn's condo, you took off your heels, ready to go to bed. Clearly, the angry boy grumbling to your left had other plans, pouring himself a glass of tequila.

"Shawn, baby, you don't need that now. Come to bed with me." You said softly, too tired to fight.

"Baby? How can you call me baby when you've been in someone else's arms for the whole night?" He shouted, making you jump a little on your spot.

"What do you mean with that?" You said drinking a glass of cold water.

"Do you think I didn't see the barman stare on you? Or Justin's hands on your skin? I get it, you were acting childishly to contradict me and get another drink, but the way he was looking at you? No, I can't take it."  Shawn said, almost in a whisper this time.

"Are you jealous?" You tried to contain a little smile.

"I'm not! I just don't like the fact that my girlfriend lets other people look at her and touch her that way!"

"I didn't even notice it! You're exaggerating right now, I didn't let anybody get too close to me. Do you think I'd really disrespect you that way?"

"Oh, so you didn't let him fuck you just because you wanted to respect me? Amazing! Just what I wanted to hear!" He was shouting again, your hand flew too fast to his left cheek.

"Don't you ever say something like that again. What's the problem with you tonight? You looked angry the whole time at the club, you didn't want to dance and you wanted to keep me on your lap like I was a little girl who can't control herself. And you even have the courage to say I was looking for those, clearly unwanted, attentions from a guy I really can't stand." You replied angrily.

"Well if you didn't want them you should have stayed with me!"

"I tried to but I couldn't stand you either tonight! You made me feel bad for nothing, you made me feel so little, Shawn!"

"Well, you make me feel little every day!" He shouted again. Silence settled in the living room for a few moments.

"What do you mean?" You whispered again while he sat on the big, grey sofa. You got closer to him, embracing his crying frame.

"What's going on, Shawn?"

"It's not just about jealousy, okay! It also is. How could I not be jealous of all those other guys, more beautiful than me, richer, funnier, classier, more famous when you look like that! Those other boys who make you laugh every time, who could take you out to dinner last minute because they aren't on the other side of the world! Who don't have anxiety or panic attacks, who don't have to try in vain to protect you from awful comments on social media, who aren't clumsy or terrible cookers and who can surely treat you right every time, in every occasion!" He cried loudly,  hiding his face in the crook of your neck as you held him in your arms.

"Shawn, love, do you really think I care about money, fancy restaurants, sex experience or platonic beauty? I know our relationship is quite new, but if I made you think I cared about that stuff I'm so, sorry. I love this clumsy boy right here, who makes me laugh all the time, who makes the most significant, small gifts that I cherish, who can't cook to save his life but who tries so damn hard every time. I love you because you are extremely beautiful inside out, your body is a masterpiece, but your heart is what I really appreciate every single second we spend together. I can bare with the distance if that means being by your side, and I'd rather spend the night in, cuddling with you and ordering junk food than going to a fancy restaurant where we couldn't even chat properly. I'm not scared by your anxiety or your bad moods in general, we can work through it tonight and I'd rather be awake at 3 am to help you get through panic attacks than have sex with someone else. And, just to clarify, the sex with you is a bomb." You spoke slowly, passing your fingers through his curls.

"She said the same things, but then she left me for him. I couldn't bear losing you, you are the love of my life, Y/N." He said holding you tight.

"And you are mine! I'm not her, I'm not gonna leave you to get more recognition, I'm not gonna leave you for any reason in this world."

"I'm sorry I and my stupid jealousy and insecurities ruin your night. You looked beautiful." He whispered looking at you in the eyes.

"We looked beautiful baby. And the night isn't over yet. Let me see what that jealousy does when it takes over you in the bedroom, mh?" You giggle with him.

"You really are something else."

----

TAGLIST: @awkwardfangirl2014 @aria253264

[fitmydaydream]

Vulnerable - Part 1

Part 1 / Part 2

Prompt: It was one fine day until Y/N accidentally hears Shawn mention her name in a conversation that she wasn’t supposed to hear.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: ANGST ANGST ANGST! This imagine is based on some prompts an anon sent me and I got deep into that concept so I decided to write a whole story about it. Thank you @anon. I hope you guys like it. Happy reading angels!

You knew this day was going to end on a great note or you atleast hoped it would. You'd enjoyed yourself today quite well and have had some sweet conversations with Shawn's family members and his friends and they all happened to like you quite better than you expected which meant you didn't have to loathe yourself at the end of the day.

The sun was almost ready to set down and it was time to bid goodbye to all.

You thanked Shawn's parents to invite you for such a great get together and let them know that you probably had one of the best brunches today.

Shawn's parents were really fond of you. They said that you were the girlfriend that he never had and had been always so welcoming towards you with open arms. Unlike anyone else, they were the only ones who knew about you and Shawn being in a relationship.

You hugged them and shortly after having a quick conversation with them, your eyes began to scan the crowd for Shawn. He was nowhere to be seen. So you decided to approach Aaliyah about his whereabouts right now.

"Hey Aaliyah have you seen Shawn? I think it's time for us to leave now and I cannot find him anywhere." you asked her.

"Oh yeah. I saw him in the backyard just a few moments ago. You can check him there if you want!" Aaliyah replied.

You thanked her and walked towards the backyard in order to get Shawn. Slowly, as you approached the backyard you started to hear whispers. You got confused from the fact as why Shawn has to whisper in his own house. You smiled to yourself as how silly he can be sometimes.

But as you got to the door that lead to the backyard. You stopped in your tracks. You didn't want to go further. You didn't want to eavesdrop but couldn't help when there was a mention about your name. You carefully hid yourself behind the door and tried listening to the ongoing conversation between Shawn and whom you assumed to be a bunch of other people, most probably his cousins.

"Like I can't even tell you man what's it all like. She's always wants to know where I am and what I'm doing like she's not my mother you know. Even mum doesn't do that anymore ahh!" Shawn whispered to the others. You still weren't able to make out what this was exactly about.

"Like she wants to know everything I do. Every place I go, I should go after informing her otherwise she would throw a fit. Constantly nagging and craving for attention." Shawn said. Your face fell at those words.

"Always so clingy man! I don't know what to do."

"Why don't you tell her? Maybe she'll get what you're trying to say? She's your girlfriend after all buddy." someone amongst the group spoke.

"Hell nah. I don't think that's a good idea because who knows what fit she'll throw next after hearing that." Shawn said slightly laughing.

Hurt and embarrassed would be the most appropriate words to describe what you were feeling right then.

Yes you were clingy but only because you weren't allowed to be with Shawn when you both were under the prying eyes. And for the fact, Shawn was always under the prying eyes and the camera flashes. Nobody except his parents was allowed to know about you two.

It has been 1 whole year into your relationship with Shawn and there he was still all secretive about his relationship with you to the public and most importantly, his friends.

The first 6-7 months you didn't care about this fact at all because you were trying to adjust to his lifestyle then. But it was after those 7 months when Shawn finally claimed the love he held for you that you started to feel a bit insecure about yourself but you brushed the feeling off for the sake that one day maybe he'll make it official to all his friends and his fans. But that hadn't happened till date.

You never complained about the feeling of sheer lonliness in such a big house. The homesickness you felt sometimes just for the sake that Shawn might be needing you instead and you didn't want to be a burden on him. You never compained about Shawn's lack of presence in his own house.

You never complained about the moments when he would avoid you in front of his friends and certain parties giving the lame excuse that he didn't want people to know about you both. He would exist like you weren't even there. You never complained about not holding his hand in public out of love just because the paparazzi could catch you and flash them as headlines on the front page. You never came between him and his music because you respected his passion so much.

And now he had the audacity to go and call you clingy and that too in front of his family members. You thought to yourself that this couldn't get any worse. A tear slipped from your eye and you quickly wiped it with your hand. You were heartbroken.

You started walking away thinking that you were gonna think about this once you get home and that this was not an appropriate place to confront Shawn about this.

You were too upset so you decided to slip through the backdoor and texted Shawn you were waiting by the car. You stood there by the car thinking about ways to confront him about this. Or were you actually really that clingy?

After about you saw Shawn walk out through the door of his house, waving goodbye to his parents and Aaliyah. He walked upto you smiling as if he'd just not told his fellows about his girlfriend being clingy.

Usually you would wait for Shawn to open the door for you but you were too pissed to let him do that so you climbed in the passenger seat and closed the door. Shawn got confused but somehow decided to let it go.

He sat himself in the driver seat and looked at you. You were looking outside the window trying your best to avoid him.

"Did you have a good time today babe?" Shawn asked you gently reaching for your hand.

"Yeah." you replied bluntly, quick to withdraw your hand from his.

"Baby are you okay? I mean is everything okay?" Shawn asked you concerning.

"Yeah. Can we please just go home. I'm too sleepy." you replied him quickly shifting your eyes away in the other direction.

Shawn wasn't convinced with your reply but decided to ask you again about this once you both got home.

The ride to home was short but an awkward one. Shawn tried to initiate several conversations between you two but they were shortly ended by you just humming or nodding in reply to whatever he was telling you. Shawn got an idea from that there was surely something up with you .

Once Shawn parked the car in your driveway, you opened the door and rushed towards yours and Shawn's so called home in order to go to your bedroom. The whole ride you've been thinking about the words that came out of his mouth and was trying so hard not to cry. It was getting too much for you now.

Shawn saw you rushing towards the house and was quick to follow you.

“Y/N! Why are you walking so fast? Y/N! Slow down!" Shawn yelled after you.

All his calls went unheard by you. You were like a bubble that was going to burst anytime now and you didn't want to talk to him right now and make it worse. But there was no escaping from him right now.

Suddenly you felt a strong grip around your right hand and Shawn turned you around to face him.

“What the hell Y/N? What is wrong with you?” Shawn asked you clearly pissed off.

You rolled your eyes at him out of annoyance. Annoyed by the fact that how cool and innocent he was acting as he just didn't do anything. You were so pissed off at him that even when he turned you around to face you, you didn't care to look at his face at all.

"What's with me?" you asked him plainly while looking at the wall behind him.

"Duh?? What's with you being all sappy all of a sudden? I think the lunch went quite well and you enjoyed it too. So what's wrong with you?" he asked you, his grip getting more firm around your arms. You took a deep breath and let it out. But it didn't help with the anger.

"Why don't you tell me that Shawn? Everything is so perfect and easy for you that you also assume other's to be like that right?" you hissed while pushing his hands off from you.

"What? What's wrong with me?" Shawn asked you completely unaware of what you were trying to say.

"Oh well nice. What a pretty drama queen you are. Play it all innocent and I'll let it go and run into your arms just like all those previous times. But not this time Shawn!" you spat.

Shawn began to get nervous. He didn't want to believe that you'd just heard the conversation he was having with his cousins. This could turn pretty bad he thought to himself. But he still tried to play it innocent and act cool.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Don't play it cool because I know what you said about me Shawn. It's too late to back out!" you said raising your voice a little.

"You fucking eavesdropped? Are you crazy how can you do that Y/N?" Shawn said with a raised voice.

"How pathetic of you that you care about that but don't fucking care about what you said about me in front of your cousins? I seriously wanna applaud you for that." you said laughing sarcastically.

"Well I don't think I said anything wrong. Did I?" Shawn said bluntly.

“Wh-What? Oh my god I can't believe you Shawn. How could you fucking say that Shawn. If you'd a problem with me, you fucking talk to me Shawn and not to your cousins about it while mocking about it!” you raised your voice a little more this time. You were shocked and it was getting hard for you to not to cry.

"Well what could I've said to you Y/N? You're so bloody uptight about all the things always that I can't even talk to you." Shawn retaliated.

"Oh that's so great to hear that I'm the one who's being uptight here. Even if I'm uptight according to you, the reason behind it is you Shawn. It you. " you huffed.

"Oh now you're gonna turn this all on me? Well that's great because I don't have time for this shit Y/N!" he said with a voice much higher this time.

"Yes because this is indeed all about you. You don't have time for this shit Shawn or you don't have time for me? I think that's what you're trying to say right? Because you don't have fucking time for me any time Shawn. And that's the truth!" you yelled at him.

"This is so not true and don't you dare go there!" he hissed.

"Oh no! I'm absolutely gonna go there because you need to know what has been going on my mind lately. I'm in no way going to let you be anymore ignorant about this." you stopped yourself from breaking down.

He continued looking the other way and rolling his eyes which hurt you more that it had.

"Then listen Shawn. I don't recognise you anymore. You're not the same person who I fell in love with an year back. You're not that person who was proud to have me and didn't held back himself from showering me with affection an year back. You're a changed person Shawn. I didn't fall in love with this cold hearted person who's not even looking at me right now even when I'm about to break down. What happened to you? What happened to those times when you rush towards me with wide open arms to console me and telling me it's gonna be alright." you finally cried.

Shawn's face softened a bit after hearing your last words.

"What happened to those times when you would wake me up with a good breakfast on our bed and surprise me with a date anyday Shawn? But now you don't even consider having dinner with me atleast once a week. I let myself doze off to sleep when I get tired of waiting for you even when you know how much I hate sleeping alone Shawn. This home doesn't feel like home Shawn. It doesn't feel like the one we moved in so happily and with all those sweet promises we made to each other. I'm so tired. And most importantly, I don't even think you like me to be your side anymore?" your voice croaked at the end of the sentence.

Shawn's face suddenly turned to look at you with a hurt expression laced over his face.

"W-what do you mean Y/N?" he asked.

"It's pretty clear isn't it Shawn. How you don't want to be seen in the public with me? At first I understood it was important for your career to stay away from all the paparazzi and all the drama that would follow up with it but Shawn you fucking confessed you loved me! Didn't you? I believed you when you said I make you feel grounded. That you don't feel afraid with me. That you wanna be with me all the time. Were they all lies Shawn? When you're refused to go out with me in public, you agree just like that but how come you've no problem getting clicked with other girls?" you sobbed.

Shawn held his head down, looking at his feet. Probably ashamed?

"You've no idea what it feels like Shawn when I'm sitting on this couch for most times of the day and see pictures of you with other girls and people speculating about you being in relationship with them even though that's not true. Fuck people, even your friends or even the closest of your friends are fucking clueless about us being in a relationship Shawn because you don't like PDA in front of them. You act like I don't freaking exist Shawn. And even after all this, I decide to stick with you. Stick with you despite all the lonliness, insecurities and anxiety your fame life gives me because for me it was always and always you Shawn. It was always you and your music. It has always been all about you and your passion Shawn. I feel like there was and will never be a place for me in your professional life because I want to always see you rising. I don't want to hold you back. Hell I never held you back even when you were so selfish. You're so egotistical Shawn that all you care about is yourself. And despite all this you've the fucking audacity to go and call me clingy and uptight? I this what I get at last?" you were crying but you were in rage too. You were so angry with Shawn and his casual attitude.

Shawn stayed quite. He was numb. Didn't know what to say because every word that was coming out of your mouth was reflecting the truth and your pain.

"Are you ashamed to have me Shawn? Ashamed that I'm not as perfect like the celebrity friends you have? Ashamed that I might not be good enough to bring out in public and claim that you love me? Answer me Shawn! Just bloody answer me!!!" you yelled.

"W-What? Why would you s-say t-that?" he stuttered.

"That's not even an answer you idiot! Fuck that. Answer me this. Do you even love me anymore Shawn?" you said with pain visible in your words and eyes. Your eyes were begging him for the answer. You regretted asking him this but it was important to ask because maybe you were the one who was at fault here by having false hopes from him that Shawn was still in love with you.

Shawn looked at you with wide eyes. He seemed like his soul has left his body. He was breathing heavily. He seemed so out of words. You knew what it was. He was not in love with you. Not anymore. And you've got the answer from his silence. Your heart shattered into pieces and you felt sick to your stomach. You were losing your mind. A tear slipped from your eye. You were more angry with him than upset.

"You're a fucking coward Shawn Peter Raul Mendes. A fucking coward is what you are. I let all my walls down for you and this is what you treat me with. The pathetic silence." you spoke to him through gritted teeth and pointing your finger at his chest. Tears now streaming down your face.

“I hate you for making me feel so miserable.” you spat while pushing him away on his chest hard.

You couldn't stand him anymore. You needed to get out of this house right now. It was feeling like the world was closing upon you. Your vision blurred and turned and started walking away from him towards the door.

Shawn looked like if he had just seen a ghost.

"And don't you fucking dare to even follow me Shawn. Don't you fucking dare." you said while walking out of the door.

Tears welled up in his eyes. He loved you. More than anything else. He just didn't think if he was right for you at all. He didn't deserve you ever.

Shawn was sobbing hard looking at you walking away from him. Maybe he was used to walking away from you and make you suffer always but instead it was his turn today. Oh god what has he done.

xx

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated♥️. Don't forget to hit REBLOG if you like it! Also, do you guys think I should make a part 2? MASTERLIST

[killingthebuddha]

[Editor’s note: Here be spoilers! If you have yet to watch the first three seasons of The Good Place and would like to remain spoiler-free, proceed with extreme caution.]

Humanity’s fate, as fans of NBC’s The Good Place well know, is a subject for moral philosophy, whether through stacks of frayed library books, constant references to philosophers, or tension-filled replications of famous thought experiments. Yet The Good Place relies just as strongly on another discipline, soteriology, or the study of salvation, which comes strongly into play as the four main characters, Eleanor Shellstrop, Chidi Anagonye, Jason Mendoza, and Tahani Al-Jamil, navigate the complexities of what happens to us after we die. 

Take, for example, the show’s core premise. Within moments of the very first episode—spoiler alert!—we learn that Eleanor’s fate has been controlled by a point system that measures the positive or negative worth of each of our actions until the day we die, at which point the powers that be tally up our total to determine if our eternal fate is “up there,” in the Good Place, or, you know, “down there,” in the Bad Place. No matter the strength of the show’s inquiry into morality and ethics, soteriology—the study of salvation—means destiny for the four humans. 

Initially, the show’s creator Michael Schur set out to explore the question of how to become a better person, as aided by the discipline of moral philosophy. The Good Place is well-known and well-regarded for relying the insights of professional philosophers, and the first two seasons drew heavily on the question of whether explicit moral instruction could help a rather amoral and self-centered individual, Eleanor, become a better person. In season 1, Chidi, the comically indecisive philosophy professor, gave Eleanor lessons in philosophy complete with chalk-dusted blackboard lectures listing headings such as “Ethics 101” and “Utilitarianism.” Season 2 continued the exploration of the utility of explicit moral instruction, hinging its climactic events on a “real” Good Place example of the classic philosophical “trolley problem.” 

Season 3 shifted the focus back to Earth and to the question of how to get humans to the Good Place. In other words, how will they achieve salvation? No matter what Schur and the writers themselves believe about the afterlife, the narrative they’ve set in motion relies on claims about what happens to us after we die, and season 3’s dramatic shifts emphasized not so much the twists and turns of ethics, but the secret details of the Good and Bad Places themselves: specifically, that the points system is “all forked up” (to use the special anti-swearing lingo of the Good Place); no humans have gotten into the Good Place for centuries, and no one in the Good Place is doing anything about it. 

Both the Good and Bad Places have their own heavenly and hellish bureaucracies. We’ve seen Bad Place admin before, a place of dark cubicles that feels like a grungy, run-down club, and we’ve seen the Judge’s chambers, whose sterility perhaps reveals the Judge’s potential ineffectiveness. The Judge spends more time obsessing over Mexican food and crime drama than worrying about immortal justice, and the doorkeeper between the Judge’s chambers and Earth wants nothing more than frog memorabilia from the real Earth. 1980s-style computers tally up the points, while futuristic floating screens spring forth from dusty ancient books inscribed with all our names. It’s a bit like stepping into a technological “Jeremy Bearimy,” the Good Place description of why time and space function differently there than they do on earth. Here, the technology of both the past and the future has an improbable grip on the fates of us all. 

The Good Place isn’t the only fictional take on the idea of heavenly and hellish bureaucracy; after all, our modern word “hierarchy” originates with an ancient Greek term referring to the “rule of a high priest.” The Jewish and Christian bibles include a ranked order of both angels and demons, and it’s no wonder that in these modern times of cubicles, skyscrapers, assistant VPs, and CEOs, interpretations of religious stories have turned more and more to bureaucratic representations of Heaven and Hell. I’m thinking, first, of C.S. Lewis’s mid-twentieth-century The Screwtape Letters, in which a young demon, Wormwood, receives letters from his better-ranked demon uncle, Screwtape, about how to tempt a particular human. While the made-for-TV version of The Screwtape Letters has yet to appear, heavenly and hellish bureaucracy received television attention recently with Amazon’s rendition of Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. In this miniseries, Heaven’s long corridors reflected ethereal glowing light and angels have retractable wings, while down in Hell, demons with pockmarked faces and worse tried, zombie-like, to escape their own darkened hallways.

In the case of The Good Place, the heavenly bureaucracy raises a host of questions. First of all, we know that the points system has become, to use one of Eleanor’s favorite phrases, a whole lot of “holy forking shirt balls.” As Michael has figured out, no one’s points measure up to Good Place standards anymore. Even the very “best” human they can find, one Doug Forcett who lives off the land in rural Canada, isn’t good enough, because each “good” choice has so many unfortunate repercussions. Life on earth has become too complicated and fraught with moral peril to permit entry to the Good Place. No matter what we do, we’re causing inadvertent harm, and the harm appears to far outweigh the good. 

This conclusion is the rare place where the show veers from its usual story-based approach to moral reasoning to something that more closely resembles a didactic lecture. If only we could get our collective “ashes” together well enough to avoid, say, pesticide contamination, mass species extinction, or extreme poverty, the point system might very well right itself again and we’d receive proper afterlife credit for our good works. 

Worse, as Michael realizes, no one in the Good Place’s “Accounting” department cares. The Head Good Place Accountant, Neil, is more concerned about birthday cake in the staffroom than the fact that no human has made it to the Good Place in roughly 500 years—roughly since the time of Copernicus or Galileo, or the dawn of the modern era, which is arguably when life started to become a lot more complicated. 

If Heaven, Hell (or both) has a “CEO,” we haven’t met him, her (or them) yet, and I’m left wondering if this absence has something to do with Good Place admins losing their sense of moral direction or corporate purpose. Neil is clearly a lower-level white-collar worker; surely he reports to someone in a business suit? Michael’s boss Shawn at least wears a coat-and-tie, which in managerial parlance means he’s a guy in charge, but is he In Charge? Do we need a Someone-In-Charge? Thus far, The Good Place suggests an existentialist world, one which, as so many philosophers have suspected, is indeed rather godless in general and Jesus-less in particular. 

Usually, The Good Place falls back on an existentialist explanation, despite the existence of a Good and Bad Place as an essential part of the plot. Sartre’s No Exit remains the obvious referent point for four humans meant to torture each other in an eternal, inescapable afterlife situation, except that here, we add a side of corporate bureaucracy to the existentialist main course. If all we can rely on are godless committees, and these heavenly or hellish bureaucracies are equally intent on preserving their own status quo, our actions on earth have as little value as they did for Chidi during his Peeps-and-M&Ms chili-eating crisis. 

Regardless of God’s existence, the fates of Eleanor, Chidi, Tahani, and Jason rest not so much with their moral actions anymore, but with a dense and impenetrable corporate afterlife system that may or may not know what it’s doing. Good Place admins care more about their internal affairs (such as birthday cake) than the presumed mission of their organization of overseeing the Good Place. The Bad Place, for its part, remains fiendishly devoted to its core mission of torturing humans once they arrive at a pretty hellish-sounding Bad Place. 

For both Places, it’s unclear whether or not the mission of either Place involves getting more humans into each Place. Does the Good Place’s corporate mission encompass getting humans into the Good Place, or simply looking after the Place and the people once they’re there? Similarly, does the Bad Place’s core mission also include recruitment, or are both Good and Bad Place admins themselves cogs in the wheel of a system they didn’t set up?

Finally, it’s ironic that among Good and Bad Place admins, only Michael and Janet feel any passion about getting deserving folk into the Good Place. A rare visit to the mailroom of the actual Good Place introduced us to the depressingly sanctimonious Good Place Committee, which is so interested in cooperation and doing the right thing that it probably gets nothing done at all. The Committee promises to spend years creating various “elite investigative teams” to create more teams who will eventually form the Commission. Michael deadpans in response, “just so you know, the whole time you’re doing this, the bad guys are continuing to torture everyone who ends up in the Bad Place, which is everyone.”

To which the Committee responds sanctimoniously, “And that deeply concerns us. Have you seen the memoranda we’ve sent each other about how concerned we are?” 

Leaving the Committee behind, Michael and his demon ex-boss Shawn agree on one final experiment, one final Place, with new ways to torture the humans, which will be the setting of season 4. As we viewers anticipate this final season, I find myself wondering how the show will resolve its many philosophical questions. Will moral philosophy save our collective “ashes,” or will the solution to our salvation come from somewhere else? 

My money’s on the four humans finding their own way through this maze of moral philosophy and a moribund eternal bureaucracy. In countless books, movies, and television shows (particularly ones that pit humans against aliens, supernatural, or corrupt and corporate forces), what we do best is surprise our supposed superiors with unexpected ways out of the hells in which they put us. Time and time again, narrative has given us strength in the power of love, humor in the strangest and most inopportune times and places, and meaning in the face of deep existential crisis.

During the season 3 episode where each character confronts the futility of life after Michael and Janet reveal the truth about their recent deaths and various reboots, Tahani figures out a solution first: use her wealth to give others happiness. She travels the streets of Sydney blissfully handing out wads of cash and generous donations. Eleanor tries out selfishness again, but when she does one supposedly final good act, she realizes that she still can “try to do good.” Even if they can no longer get into the Good Place based on their actions, she realizes that “there are still people in this world that we care about, so I say we try and help them be good people.” 

Chidi, meanwhile, is stuck with philosophy, and he’s miserable, and not only vestless, but shirtless as well, not to mention wandering the streets of Sydney scaring passersby with quotes from Nietzsche. Later, he tries to start a sentence about Sartre, leaving us once again in the realm of existentialism and No Exit, but Jason interrupts. Philosophy tries to have the final say, but all-too-human Jason, with his stupidity and his sweetness, gets the final word.

In the scene, Jason begins a presumably lame story about “a guy from my dance crew in Jacksonville called Big Noodle.” The others smirk, expecting the worst. (“It was nice knowing you,” they start to say.) Big Noodle always showed up late to dance rehearsal, until one day Jason crashes at Big Noodle’s place and learns that his friend has to juggle several jobs in order to take care of his aging grandparents. “The point is,” Jason tells the Judge, “you can’t judge humans ’cause you don’t know what we go through.”

What we go through is special, and it just may be what saves us. As season 3 ended, Janet comforts Eleanor by reminding her that even if they’re in the pandemonium, John Milton’s place of “all demons” in Paradise Lost, she and Chidi found each other. Eleanor replies, “I guess all I can do is embrace the pandemonium, find happiness in the unique insanity of being here, now.” 

Eleanor’s heart, Jason’s stupidity, or Tahani’s surprising generosity: these human qualities save each of us time and time again. In The Good Place, moral philosophy may not be able to save us, but the qualities we bring to our lives may well determine our eternal fates in this world, or the next.