hey did i tell you guys one of you was in my dream last night

So I was being a basic bitch the other day and listening to my true crime podcasts when it occurred to me just how suspicious Nile’s “death” would look to everyone not in the Guard, leading me to a train of thought that, 2200 words later, absolutely got away from me but I can’t let go so I’m inflicting it on all of you!

To set the stage, we know the movie takes place over approximately a week. Here’s what happens to Nile from the military’s point of view:

She dies is very seriously injured

She heals without a scratch

Just before she’s supposed to be shipped out to Germany, she vanishes, leaving two men concussed (and presumably reporting being knocked out by a woman with short hair wearing civilian clothes)

She goes AWOL for several days

They get word from the CIA that she is to be reported killed in action (details unclear)

So, at the beginning of this very weird week, the USMC has to tell Nile’s family of her death critical injury. What her family was told depends on how long she was dead – a Google search tells me that family will be notified in person within 8 hours of a soldier’s death, but we don’t know how long her first death lasted. For an injury, however, they’d get a phone call to notify them and the unit would arrange for them to visit as soon as the soldier is transferred out of a combat zone. Like I remember when I was in high school, a guy from my church who was a Marine was really seriously injured in a helicopter crash in Iraq and from what I could tell, his parents were told immediately and were flown out to Germany to see him, so it stands to reason that Nile’s family would have been informed relatively quickly after her throat was slashed, one way or another.

And then, she goes AWOL. Her family would be notified while the USMC tried to figure out where she went, not least because the military would want to know if she’s contacted them. (And it’s possible that her family may have been on the way to Germany to see her since we know that’s where she was supposed to go!) So for several days:

Nile’s mom and brother have no idea where she is

They know she was seriously injured and most certainly should not have been moving around on her own

They can’t get a hold of her

The military can’t tell them anything

And the next thing they know for sure is that she was “killed in action.” After being injured and vanishing into thin air. And they presumably cannot produce her body or any concrete evidence of her death. In any case, something sketchy is going on, so they’re like. SMELLS LIKE A MILITARY COVERUP.

In a surprise to probably no one, there is a well-documented legacy of mysterious US military deaths, particularly of women of color (TW for sexual assault in these links). The cases of LaVena Johnson and Vanessa Guillenin particular have made national news because of their families’ persistence in seeking justice. Likewise, Nile is a Black woman, and her mom and brother are most certainly hypercognizant of (a) state violence against Black people and (b) these high-profile cases of suspicious military deaths. So her family are seriously side-eyeing the situation, knowing that (a) the military has a serious incentive (and a documented history) of covering up things that make them look bad and (b) nothing about Nile’s disappearance and supposed death are adding up.

And Andy’s right. Nile does come from warriors. And you know who else does? Her brother.

Don’t get me wrong. Nile’s mom would absolutely not back down. She’d know something was up and want to get to the bottom of it. But based on what I know about Gen X parents (mine), they’re not the most technologically savvy. Like they can use the internet, but they didn’t grow up with it the way we young millennials and Gen Z did. So Nile’s brother takes the lead. And what do zillennials do best?

Social media.

Nile’s brother starts going hard on any site he can, trying to get the word out to see if anyone knows what happened to his sister. He starts a Reddit thread. He starts a Facebook group. He reaches out to the media and true crime bloggers and podcasters à la Sarah Turney, getting loud and being a general nuisance in hopes of getting some answers. He gets his friends and Nile’s friends involved. Maybe eventually Dizzy, Jay, and others from Nile’s unit hear about it and reach out, telling him what they saw and how weird it all was. He’s drumming up interest, and soon “Nile Freeman” becomes a household name (at least among the true crime fans).

Copley is, of course, trying his best, but at this point there is just so much that it’s impossible for him to scrub everything. Sure, he can erase new footage of Nile and the Guard, but what can he do about Reddit threads and podcast episodes that are speculating something weird has happened? Maybe he could hack the sites and shut those things down, but honestly, that’s the last thing he’d want to do, because that only adds weight to the theory that Nile’s disappearance is a military coverup. So eventually he has to tell Andy what’s going on.

Andy, obviously, does not take the news well. However, she is also completely computer illiterate, because that’s Booker’s job and he’s the only one who ever bothered to learn what the internet is in any meaningful way. (She probably calls Booker for advice, and for the record, I think Booker would have no qualms about shutting down conspiracy threads, tinhats be damned, but Copley is too concerned about the consequences. He’s ex-CIA for crying out loud, he knows how it’ll look if they scrub every mention of Nile’s name from the internet.) Maybe she confers with Joe and Nicky but, let’s be honest, they’d be equally unhelpful. So at this point, she knows they have to bring in Nile.

But the thing about Nile is that she, too, knows how to use the internet (duh). Aside from her being a young millennial/digital native, we know from the cave scene where she’s giving Booker suggestions on how to track Copley that she clearly is even more computer savvy than the average person. And for that reason she almost definitely took over the day-to-day tech stuff after Booker’s exile. So I think it would be foolish to expect her to be unaware of what’s happening. She’s not contacting her family or posting on the message boards or anything, but she knows what’s up. So Copley and the team probably sit her down to “break the news,” but we know the girl does not have a poker face (see: literally shooting herself in the foot and not being able to play it cool whatsoever) and cracks immediately, telling them she’s seen everything about her case – she’s not interacting with any of it, she certainly didn’t instigate anything, but she knows. (And she is so goddamn proud of her brother.)

At this point, I’d like to pause and consider Nile’s role in the overall narrative of this movie. She’s set up as a foil to Andy, obviously, but she’s also a foil to Booker. Booker, who, like Andy, is a serious pessimist, but who, unlike Andy, still has very fresh memories and trauma associated with being the new kid, which have destroyed him. In his mind (and Andy’s), if Nile communicates with her family, she’ll become just like him in a century or two – bitter, alone, and stuck with her grief and memories of watching her family die and knowing they died resenting her. It’s a small sample size, but this is the only experience they have to go off of.

But it doesn’t have to be like that.

There’s been a lot of discussion of TOG being a fundamentally queer movie – a group of people brought together because of something inherent about themselves that is different, that must be hidden, that causes others to hate, fear, and reject them. Booker’s backstory is the archetypal traumatic “coming out” story – his family learns who he is, hate him for it, and attempt to cast him out of their lives. He’s stuck with his trauma, his pain, his loss, and it consumes him.

But what if Nile’s family would be the opposite? What if her “coming out” to them as immortal is met with acceptance, love, celebration? What if her family is just overjoyed to have her back, and they don’t care what the circumstances are? I'm reminded of this incredible post from @shitty-old-guard-deaths a while back, where Nile’s mother hits Booker with a frying pan because “my baby let me believe she was dead for FIVE YEARS based on your bad advice???” (which may or may not have inspired this whole tangent). Nile takes the advice of someone who did the same thing she wants to do because she doesn’t want to risk her family’s rejection. She wants the good memories with her family and is afraid that showing them her true self will bring her unbearable pain, forever replacing those memories. But, with high risk comes high reward.

Anyway. Nile and the team are trying to come up with a plan for how to handle this whole thing, but she’s not really participating because she’s too afraid to hope. Until finally, quickly, so she doesn’t lose her nerve, she suggests she reach out to them, knowing that, realistically, that’s the only solution before things snowball even further out of control. The team is shocked, but realize that she has a point. They decide that Copley should actually be the first point of contact, posing as a US government official to talk with them and test the waters.

So Copley goes to Nile’s family’s house to talk with her mom and brother. They’re probably distrustful and apprehensive, but nonetheless secretly ecstatic that their work has paid off. They talk and review all of the information that they’ve collected, including testimonials from the people on Nile’s base and recent sightings (along with photos) of Nile (with the same three people) over the last few years that people have sent them but they haven’t posted publicly. At this point, Copley’s like, yeah this is about to blow up, we gotta put our cards on the table. He convinces them to come with him to some safe house/black site/whatever he can get that is technologically impenetrable (I’m picturing them in like, an interrogation room at a police station kind of deal), takes their phones, locks the doors, and brings in Nile.

What follows is the most delightful reunion scene of all time, bringing Joe, Nicky, and even Andy to tears as they watch and listen from outside the room. With Copley’s help, Nile tells her mom and brother about her immortality and what’s been going on since she died (within reason, of course), and they are thrilled. They don’t understand why (because no one does) but they don’t question it and they see it as a gift from God – she’s been resurrected, she will live, and she has a purpose. Her mother and brother are so happy to see her again and are willing to agree with pretty much anything to stay in her life as long as they can.

So. They set up some complicated agreement (they bring in the other three for support/intimidation as needed) setting the terms of their relationship. They swear Nile’s family to secrecy, maybe bringing up the lab to show how high the stakes are, and they readily agree. They come up with some cover story for Nile’s brother to share on the message boards (maybe that the government has opened an investigation but because it’s an open case he has to shut it all down? Tells people to direct their tips somewhere else? Something to that effect). There’s still speculation, of course, but without Nile’s brother at the helm providing the energy, the hype dies down as news stories are wont to do without any movement. And Nile’s family goes to work for the team. The experience has taught them that Copley can’t possibly do everything himself, especially when it comes to social media, so Nile’s brother takes the lead on the day-to-day tracking/social media while Copley and her mom focus on finding jobs and scrubbing their traces afterward.

So there you have it: Nile gets to integrate her biological family into her found family and spend the rest of their lives with them as it should be, Copley gets some badly needed help managing the reality of social media, the team finally has a positive narrative surrounding outsiders Knowing About Them AND about interacting with people from their previous life, and the audience gets the happy ending to this very lovely and very queer story to counteract the pain associated with Booker’s family.

Plus, you know, I’m a sucker for both a good government conspiracy theory and for Nile getting every good thing she deserves.

Anyway, HSM2 is about internalized homophobia, and no one can tell me otherwise.

High School Musical is one of the most beloved franchises in the world. Teenagers all over the world grew up watching Troy and Gabriella harmonize together. Three movies, and nearly a decade later it’s still beloved by all. The first film easily forgotten in the ashes of the early 2000’s, the third film stuck in a purgatorial limbo of the rather unfortunate late 2000’s. The second film on the other hand sticks out between the ruckus. 

The second High School Musical film takes place at Sharpay and Ryan’s family country club, during the summer between junior and senior year. The Wildcats are working summer jobs on the country club, often forced to the beck and call of Ryan and Sharpay themselves. Sharpay uses all her prestige to help Troy with college instead of starting at the bottom ( or rather, in the kitchen washing dishes) with his friends. In the time she’s helping Troy, she is also pushing her brother away; replacing him with Troy in their musical number for the talent show, and refusing to hang out with him in preference for Troy. Ryan becomes vengeful to his twin and starts hanging around the Wildcats in the kitchen. At first, he was met with some distasteful looks and words (most of which from Chad). With the help of Kelsey, and her neutral party, Ryan fits in smoothly with the other teenagers, eventually giving the WildCats all dance lessons.

 Throughout the movie, the main conflict continues to be the internal conflict of Troy Bolton. He debates over and over again if he should go through with Sharpay’s shenanigans, or if he wants to “listen to my own heart.”  This of course involves Gabriella, as she is Troy’s love interest. She’s not in the second film except for the beginning, then, where she leaves in the middle of the film - in order to create angst for Troy - then when she shows up again in the finally to sing/rejoin Troy. 

The conflict in the second film  is the combining of Troy’s two worlds. His first - his main world in the first movie, that hence became his secondary world - which is represented by Chad. Then his secondary world - which becomes his main world in this movie - which is represented by Ryan. Chad represents Troy’s masculinity, or his more idealized version of himself. Ryan represents Troy’s femininity or his current version of reality. These two worlds collide in the iconic song “I don’t dance”.  

Since this movie - and hence this scene - came out in the early 2000’s, a lot of the innuendoes went over people's heads. Luckily, as the children who watched this movie grew older and more experienced, and the world became more accepting, we’re able to see this song for what it is. 

Before getting into the lore and symbolism of the iconic “I Don’t Dance” sequence, context is needed. For most of human history, homosexuality was seen as a sin in all places except ancient times (see: Greece and Japan). The modern age is the most accepting on all fronts, such as sexual orientation, race, and religion. In the early 2000’s, High School Musical director Kenny Ortega was not publicialy out yet. He wouldn’t be till 2014. 

Originally, while writing this, my first thought was  that Kenny - the director - would be using Troy as a y/n type character to project his insecurities and struggles with masculinity, and what that means in defining his orientation and societal views that would be placed upon him. Then, it came to me later that this is in fact not the case, Troy (and Gabriella - who is in fact a y/n character for the female audience) is more of a character for a man of his time, confused with his own ideals of masculinity and the views of society because, “oh god, I can’t like theater/drama because only queer people and girls like it!” The second point is pushed further with the Troy and Sharpay sub-plot. Sharpay tries to further Troy’s career as a basketball player, though that’s not what he wants anymore, and Troy is no longer sure if that is what he ever wanted to begin with (enter the song “Bet on it” and the hilarious meme “no dad, I’m giving up on your dream”). 

Keeping these things in mind - Kenney’s queerness, and Troy’s struggle to realize you can in fact sing and be a heterosexual, wow, revolutionary - it became clear to me that Kenney’s y/n characters were Ryan and Chad. 

For those who aren’t into the arts, or find them too difficult after a singular attempt thinking they could write a world class novel on the first go, let me be the first to tell you every author has a y/n character. First, for those who don’t know what y/n stands for, it’s a popular fanfiction trope where a writer will write a story about a character dating, being friends, and so on, with the reader. The y/n stands for “your name” so anyone can be the main character in this story at any time. For a writer of mainstream fictional work, such as High School Musical, Game Of Thrones, Lord Of The Rings, Pride and Prejudice, Harry Potter, Hunger Games, even most comics. Now, most writers or directors aren’t going to be as obvious as having a character not named (or named y/n) or even named Jane (looking at you Jane Austin), the y/n character of many mainstream authors/directors/comic artists and so on is usually the character they feel or have given the most attributes similar to themselves. 

It’s the same reason people have favourite characters. You see a fictional character and you either 1. Want to Bob the Builder them, 2. Some sort of weird sex thing, or 3. See more/the most of yourself in this character. Number three - thankfully - is usually the main reason. Some people just create their own favourite characters. An even easier way to think about this, is just projection baby, that’s psych 101.   

Before I went off on a small tangent of fictional works and how human emotion plays into creating them (except anything Disney has made in the past decade, and no you can’t change my mind on that) I mentioned that Chad and Ryan are Kenney’s y/n characters. As a queer person myself, it’s clear for me to see the different struggles each of these characters face and how these reflect the queer experience. 

So, let’s finally get into it. 

Ryan, without it being explicitly said is clearly a character of what people in the early 2000s think a gay man is. He is effeminate, wearing bright coloured outfits with lots of accessories - namely his signature hats - he is also in the theater department doing musicals, and passive/subservient to any of his twin sisters' wills. Yes, now we know gay men aren’t just feminized men, but in the early 2000’s a gay man who can do "masculine" things like change their car oil, like sports, and so on, break the "effeminate" stereotype thus confused many cishet people. Sharpay is painted as more confident - or, for sake of comparability - masculine to her twin in the first movie, and most of the second movie. Making Ryan a bit of her dog who would do anything to get by - painting Ryan as lesser than human, once more, playing into the homophobia of the early 2000's.     

Despite the clear stereotypes playing into his character, Ryan is consistently one of the most confident characters in the movie. The other, being his sister of course. This confidence in himself is what gravitates the other characters towards him, either by being intimidated (Troy, thinking Ryan and Gabriella were a thing), or admiration (Chad, by the end of “I don’t dance”). 

Chad, on the other hand, is a whole different ball game. While he is confident in the first movie, and the first portion of the second movie, he begins to break more and more when Ryan becomes a more integral part of the Wildcat group. To keep in mind, Chad is also the most vocal about his distaste for Troy’s artistic past-time. When the other Wildcats join Ryan and begin learning how to dance for the talent show at the end of the movie, Chad is also the most vocal about his distaste. The baseball game where “I don’t dance” takes place, is the climax of Chad’s arc and his turn towards acceptance to Ryan/Troy’s hobbies. 

Of course, there is more to the “I don’t dance” sequence than just Chad’s realization - the exact one Troy comes to terms with in the second movie as well - of “oh my god I don’t have to be gay to enjoy stereotypical ‘feminine’ things.” That is the main part of the song though, that and all the sexual tension. 

Going back to what I’ve stated previously, Chad and Ryan are Kenney’s projection or y/n characters. Let me do a small recap before we get into the nitty gritty of the famous “I don’t dance” video. 

Thinking back to the first few paragraphs, I stated that Kenney wasn’t publicly out till 2014, about 7 years after the second movie came out. This could be due to the fact that a) it’s the early 2000’s and everyones still very homophobic, or b) self-doubt that comes with the queer experience. The most likely reason is a mixture of both of these. Because of this, Ryan is the more self-assured version, or idealized version of Kenney that he wants to be. Ryan is confident, never being swayed about his lifestyle (could be read as: sexuality) even though Chad - and most of the wildcats in the first movie - put him through relentless “teasing” and humiliation. He’s confident, almost to a fault, he’s sure of himself, and yet still reaches out a hand to Chad and the other wildcats to show them that they’re just being, kinda dick-ish. 

Every queer person wants to be Ryan. Despite his heavily stereotyped characterization, I personally believe he is one of the stronger written characters in the movies, mainly due to Kenney putting the time in to really make Ryan feel like a real person, to give himself some sort of relief of his own anxieties, a chance to see the world through a person who truly has no fear. Unlike Kenney himself. 

This is where Chad comes in. 

Chad is seen as “confident” in the first movie, the second Troy “leaves” basketball though, all that confidence comes crashing down. His best friend has another hobby - one he thinks is “not right” (it’s okay, you can say gay), - they wont be spending all their time together (first, can you say dependent relationship much, yikes).Chad’s defining characteristic up until their fight that instigate act three of the second movie, is being Troy’s best friend. I’m going to take this as if this were truly the case, and not a decently written character arch. Some people base themselves around their friends and their whole identity on being a friend, that they lose sight of themselves, this mainly in high school of course, when your whole world is really nothing but school, and friends. Newly developed independence is there, but that’s scary, so instead of worrying about the future, cling to something that’s reliable. I’ve seen this happen, mainly at the end of high school, when the “real world” is coming a bit too close for comfort. This could generally be the case if a person is lonely, but for timeline sake I’m going to say Chad has got some anxiety about graduating (considering the second movie takes place the summer of junior year). 

His lashing out at Troy’s hobbies and at Troy’s neglectful friendship, make more sense with that background, and are seen more in the second movie where Troy begins spending all his spare time with Sharpay (trying to collect that BAG!). Chad - and others (read: father) - insists that music is not a feasible career option, and Troy should just stick with basketball (like...that is a feasible career option). The tension Chad creates in the studio only grows when the other wildcats decide to take up Ryan’s offer for dance lessons and move from the kitchen, to helping out with the talent show. (Next essay idea: how high school musical two was really about class all along, cause Jesus). 

 Chad is the less obvious option for a y/n character. Though again, the 2000’s were not as cool people like to pretend they are. Chad - for Kenney - represents what he actually feels, this fear of being rejected for how he is and how he chooses to live his life/lifestyle, so he sticks to something reliable. Ryan is new, and exciting, and confident in a way that Kenney/Chad wish they could be, but in order for that to happen they need to understand that maybe people are complex creatures, and can enjoy multiple hobbies (aka: the same lesson Troy is teaching the viewers, but far less boring). But, for Kenney/Chad facing that thought and that realization is scary, and thus, they lash out at anyone (read this paragraph as: Chad mad jealous of Ryan cause Ryan bomb as fuck). 

All this build up, finally comes ahead in the employee baseball match 

                                                       ******

The baseball game is probably the most memorable scene in the whole High School Musical franchise (minus Sharpay’s “Fabulous” solo, but that’s also from the same movie, and it’s kinda rude to give what’s already the best more points); the tension in the scene, and what it implies makes it the best written segment of all three movies, let alone the most entertaining. 

Some things to keep in mind from our background information: Chad is missing his bestie and struggling with what being “masculine” really means for him and others. Ryan of course makes this confusing, because the traditional method is being thrown out the window. In short, Chad has internalized homophobia, and Ryan being open - or as open as Disney would let him - is causing all sorts of problems. 

Despite the song, “I don’t dance” being logged into our collective skulls for all eternity (you’re probably humming it right now, sorry about that), the very brief interaction of Ryan and Chad before the game is lost on the public consciousness. The two are clearly comfortable with each other, though the distaste seems to be on Chad’s side more than Ryans. So, the two start playfully jabbing at each other before deciding to do a bat toss to see who will be in the outfield first. 

Before they begin the bat toss, Ryan says “You don’t think dancing takes some game?” Chad then very clearly checks him out, doing a simple but effective ‘drag-your-eyes-over-them-top-to-bottom-then-smile’ and says “you got game?” (Seen in gif below) 

I don’t know how much you know about sex metaphors and how many of those baseball has in it (seriously though, it’s a lot), but with the bat toss, Ryan’s hand ended up on top, and Chad’s under Ryan’s. Let’s ignore this for now, it’ll be implied again later. Ryan’s team starts out in the outfield because he won the bat toss, and hence, the song officially starts. 

The first lyrics (ignoring the chores of “hey batter batter, hey batter batter, swing”) is 

I'll show you that it's one and the same

Baseball, dancing, same game

It's easy

Step up to the place, start swingin  

This part is sung by Ryan, who is taunting Chad out in the outfield. Before the game, as stated, Chad was taunting Ryan about his lack of “game” (both sexual and not sexual metaphor are implied), and now, Ryan has turned those tables around. Baseball - is seen as more masculine than dancing, not as masculine as football or basketball, but it’s up there. Chad is someone who cares about his masculinity, enough to the point that Ryan playing baseball makes him loose his mind. Makes him question his own personal definition of masculinity, if you will. 

Ryan says, “baseball, dancing, same game,” impyling that, to him, baseball and dancing are one and the same. That is baffling to Chad, cause well, how can something meant for girls even be close to something meant for boys. 

Chad comes back with: 

 I wanna play ball now, and that's all

This is what I do

It ain't no dance that you can show me, yeah

This only proves my previous point. 

I had a conversation with myself about this, and I’ve decided not to include it in this essay, but a second essay may or may not be possible. Basically the premise - the dancing/”musical” moments of High School Musical are conjured up images by those meant to see them (ie: like a visual hallucination, but, not really) but this scene kinda poo-poos that idea. 

Now, the thing I am talking about is Ryan and Chad’s  peacocking at each other during the time they sing these lyrics. The movements they’re making could be mistaken for dancing - as we automatically assume it is because of the title and themes of the movie - or it could be them just getting ready for the baseball game. Ryan swings his leg over the pitcher's mound, tossing the ball up and down into his glove, making wavy hand gestures, etc. Chad brushes off his gloves, swings his legs, hits the bat on each foot, and so on. 

For the peacocking, Chad makes a mock of the ballerina foot stance before strutting over to the home plate. Ryan laughs at this, which earns quite the smirk from Chad himself (see gif below). 

This is when it becomes a conversation.   

You'll never know - R

Oh I know - Ch

If you never try - R

There's just one little thing - Ch

That stops me every time, yeah - Ch

Come on - Ch

When Chad says “Come on” it’s when Ryan throws the baseball at him, starting the game, and giving Chad’s team their first strike of the game (get it, it’s funny). Now, obviously we need to talk about the “there’s just one little thing that stops me every time.” As a queer person, I assure you, two of the things that kept me from living my Best Life were 1) my own ignorance of what asexuality was and 2) the fear that everyone I love would hate me for who I am, and what I have no control over. 

Sorry to get deep like that on main, but, can any other queer person say different? Obviously, your first point may differ, but my point still stands. In the video/scene there is a very short moment (to which I have condensed into a gif for you all, you’re welcome, and I’m sorry about the quality in advance), of the camera moving over to Chad’s team (or his friends in this case since it’s an employee baseball game) as he says this line (gif below). 

I will not be explaining the use of subtly in this essay, but I’m sure you get the metaphor Kenney is trying to use. If not, let me spell it out for you in very simple words. This song has a lot of sexual innuendos (as mentioned pervious with the baseball bat scene and still, more to come), with that in mind, and clearly queer themes at play (as mentioned before, again), this scene only shows Chad isn’t as straight as he leads on. His fear/phobia of Ryan/the arts come from a much deeper place. 

In shorter, and much simpler terms: Chad queer. 

But, let’s get back to the boy's conversation. 

I don't dance - Ch

I know you can - R 

Not a chance, no - Ch 

If I could do this, well, you could do that - R 

Translation: “If I can do this weird, sweaty, dirty, Male thing without blowing a fuse, you can and should be able to dance just fine.” 

But I don't dance - Ch 

Hit it out of the park - Both 

I don't dance - Ch

I say you can - R

There's not a chance, oh - Ch

Slide home, you score, swingin on the dance floor - Both

I don't dance, no - Ch  (This is just the chores, you’ll see it multiple times throughout the essay, I just figured if the song is going to be in your head, go all the way right). 

Two-steppin, now you're up to bat - R

Bases loaded, do your dance - R 

Here we are with the baseball metaphors you’ve all been waiting for ladies and gentlemen. Girls, gays, and non-binary pals. For those who have somehow managed a sheltered existence with access to the internet, lemme help you. Ryan is talking about “loaded bases” both in the context of the game (where it shows each base has one person from Chad’s team on them) and in the term of sex. While you go out there dating - while it’s mostly douche bags and people using it ironically - your nosey friends may ask you how far you got. 

“First, second, or third base?” They may ask. Or something like, “oh wow, did you get to home plate/base?” These are simply the rankings of the stages of a sexual relationship. First - kissing, sometimes just handholding, Second - making out, some light groping, Third - full on groping, no clothes come off, but it gets close. While each person has different boundaries, these are the general accepted definitions for the bases. 

Home base is obviously full blown sexual intercourse. Since Chad has his “bases loaded” it means he’s done all these things before, just never gone completely to sexual intercourse with someone - in the terms of the song and the history we’ve already established, it’s most likely a male character. This is only proven by Chad’s uncomfortable nature towards Ryan (internalized Homophobia, thank you, returning theme) but his easy, and cocky personality towards everyone else. “bUt thAt DoEsnT pRovE” hush, that’s the final cherry on top. Remember this conversation. 

It's easy - R  

Again. Previous points have been made.  

Take your best shot, just hit it - Ch 

I've got what it takes, playin my game - Ch

So you better spin that pitch - Ch 

You're gonna throw me, yeah - Ch 

I'll show you how I swing - Ch

Ah, the famous “I’ll show you how i swing” a very strong baseball metaphor for everyone. Keeps queer people from defining themselves to dangerous (straight) people, and, well, that’s it actually. This term is mostly used by bi/pan people, though if you want to stay in the closet or are in a dangerous place, it is also used to subtly tell other queer people you are in fact, not straight. My favourite is when this term came into play when President Buchanan got elected in 1856 (for those that don’t know, he’s the first and only gay president). 

You'll never know - R

Oh I know - Ch

If you never try - R 

There's just one little thing - Ch

That stops me every time, yeah - Ch 

This is again, the same lyric as before it doesn’t pan, and the tone is much different. The camera stays on Chad as he says this line, meaning he’s reflecting, he is now his own problem, the person that is keeping him back. His friends are not on his mind anymore, which is good, Ryan’s Gay Propaganda has been working. 

Come on - Ch

I don't dance - Ch

I know you can - R

Not a chance, no, no - Ch

If I could do this, well, you could do that - R

But I don't dance - Ch

Hit it out of the park - R

I don't dance - Ch

I say you can - R

There's not a chance, oh no - Ch

Slide home, you score, swingin on the dance floor - Both 

I don't dance, no - Ch

Lean back, tuck it in, take a chance - R

Swing it out, spin around, do the dance - R

I wanna play ball, not dance hall - Ch

I'm makin a triple, not a curtain cal - Chl

I can prove it to you til you know it's true - R

'Cause I can swing it, I can bring it to the diamond too - R

You're talkin a lot, show me what you got - Ch

Again, like the beginning of this song, this is a heavy base for flirting and sexual tension, which this song is drowning in. 

Stop swinging - both

Hey - both

This is the part where they all start a flash mob in the middle of the baseball diamond. Again, alluding to the conversation I had to myself earlier, this only proves my own theory as no one takes notice of this. But, that’s not this essay, this is where I mention how close Chad and Ryan are at the end of the group dance.  

Come on, swing it like this - both

Oh, swing - both

Jitterbug, just like that - both

That's what I mean, that's how you swing - both

You make a good pitch but I don't believe - both 

Here is yet another (and the final) sexual innuendo. This is actually a rather quick one. Pitching in queer culture is considered the person who tops (because queer people even had to straight-ify their sex lives to “top” and “bottom”), this is the person who is giving, if you know what I’m saying. 

I say you can - R

I know I can't - Ch

I don't dance - Ch

You can do it - R

I don't dance, no - Ch 

 Here is where that mosh pit ends, and how they get a little too close to comfort. 

Nothing to it, atta boy, atta boy, yeah - both

The rest of this song is simply a mash-up of the baseball game being finished, and this lovely gem. 

Now, clearly, Chad’s self conscious nature towards his sexuality is gone, he’s sitting close - if not squishing - Ryan, and talking to him like they’ve been friends forever. Take note of the change of close, most likely due to all the tension at the end of the song, and maybe a little of Chad’s own natural human curiosity built in. Now, I leave you with this note: 

If there is anything that confirms all this more, its Chad’s girlfriend wearing the pride colours. 

Also note: this could also be seen as a friend helping his bro discover his sexuality and fighting internalized homophobia, but, that’s ignoring the sexual tension, so go off I guess. 

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.  

Watch the full thing here

i am always yours

canonverse juke one-shot, light angst with a happy ending :) as a part of the effort to get juke back on the tumblr fandometrics ship list! title from the end of all things by p!atd. again, fuck brendon urie, but i’ve had this hc about luke for awhile (you’ll see what i mean) and had to get this out! <3 enjoy!

When Julie told Luke about Panic! At The Disco, she didn’t just give him a list of songs to check out. She advised to listen through entire albums. 

“You have a lot to catch up on,” she said, grinning over a mug of steaming tea. Her smile could convince him to do anything. “And these guys were a phenomenon. Despite… A lot that has happened with their lead singer, you’ll appreciate the music. Just give it a try when you feel like it.”

Julie never rushed him on anything. It was one of the things he loved most about her -- she only really insisted he know how to use her phone and the internet and maybe know some memes, but the rest was up to him. She loved him -- he hoped -- even if he wanted to stay in 1995. 

However, whenever she told Luke to do something, like “look into it if you’re interested” or “check it out if you’re ever bored,” he would jump on it in an instant. 

He wondered if she ever noticed. Acts of service was one of those love language things that Flynn was always talking about, right? Does making the effort to show an interest in the other person’s life by listening to every album by a band they like count?

He would ask Reggie or Alex, but Reggie doesn’t have much experience in the love department and Alex and Willie are much better at communicating than he is with Julie. 

To be clear: Luke doesn’t have experience either. In fact, Reggie probably has more romantic experience between the two of them. 

But none of it was as serious. This weird thing he has with Julie; this undefined, label-lacking supernova of passion and emotion that he has curled up in his chest is so strong sometimes it hurts. When Julie was upset at him and ignored him, it felt like the time his mom took his guitar and locked it away for a week. 

But when Julie is around, and she’s smiling at him, he could swear that not even a roaring audience could spark the kind of nirvana he feels. 

So, the day after she gives him the name of every Panic! album to date, she goes to school for six hours and he sneaks her laptop down to the garage and starts his deep dive. 

(Yes, Julie gave him computer privileges. He knows boundaries. She’s just broadened hers.)

Blissfully and with few interruptions from his other bandmates, he goes through the first albums quickly. He skips most of Pretty Odd -- Julie should have warned him about that one -- and is enjoying himself until he gets to the later projects which are significantly less his sound. 

But he keeps going. He reaches their album from 2013, which has this neon-angsty-alt-pop vibe that he honestly has a neutral opinion on. The songs are all good until he realizes that half of them have a painfully romantic overtone that ropes his mind back to Julie every time he tries to stray. 

Fuck, one of the songs is literally titled Girl That You Love. How is he not supposed to have a montage of Julie in his head?

And then some shit called Far Too Young To Die comes on, and yes, he agrees, he was far too young to die. He also vows to never listen to it again in the next 24 hours because he is ultimately tempted to loop it until Julie comes back and kiss her breathless the second that she walks through the door. 

Moving on, Collar Full doesn’t make things much better. He is sick and tired of waiting and dancing around his feelings for her, and every time they are together he is filled to the brim with lyrics and love from just minutes in her presence. 

(“If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I want to go” definitely shatters him. But only briefly. He wants to soak up every ounce of love he can get from her before the world catches up to them and he’s crossing over without his consent.)

Luke thinks that he’s out of the woods when he hits the album-ending ballad, The End of All Things. 

And then he sees that he’s still in the thick of it. 

The way it hits him is nearly indescribable -- but every line hits like a read-aloud of his diary. 

No matter where he is, or where he ends up, his soul will always belong to Julie Molina. And that’s the truth of it. He can cross over or the band could break up and he could wander the planet as a lost ghost for the rest of eternity, but his soul will linger; tied with Julie’s in an unsolvable knot. 

He is hers. 

He is hers, he is hers, he is hers. 

And he’s in love with her. 

He can’t ask her to love him back. But he can hope, right? For just a single moment where they can lay together and be Julie and Luke like they should have been.

The tears on his cheeks and under his eyes don’t register until they are streaming down his neck and onto the pillow that he’s laying on. 

He doesn’t deserve Julie, he knows that. And he knows how fucking selfish it would be to even try. But sometimes the wanting reaches inside of him and individually snaps each and every one of his ribs, and that feeling keeps him pushing and pulling like the tide. Get close to her, make her smile, make her laugh. 

Leave her alone. Stop flirting. Don’t you dare hurt her. 

Think about somebody other than yourself. 

This song, he ends up looping. Over and over and over until his emotions are exhausted and he doesn’t have any tears left to cry. He’s on his… Probably his ninth listen when the doors crack open, and the piano music is leaking out of the garage as Julie slips in. 

“Luke! Hey, uh… Oh! You’re listening to Panic!”

He guiltily allows his heart to skip at the pleasant surprise in her smile. Clearing his throat, he swipes his hands viciously across his cheeks to rid of the tear stains and shoots her one of his classic smiles. “‘Course, Boss. You told me to.”

Her backpack hits the coffee table as she slowly approaches the couch to settle next to him. “Yeah, well… I didn’t actually expect you to. People normally just say ‘yeah, I’ll check it out!’ and then no one talks about it again.”

Something rubs him the wrong way about her not thinking that he would actually follow through with her recommendation. Does she doubt him? How does she not know that she could say jump and he would ask how high?

“Well, I’m not normal people. I care about what you care about.”

He knows he got her when she averts her eyes to Alex’s drums across the room; giving Luke a perfect view of her blush. Maybe he lets himself revel in it for a moment longer than necessary. 

“Anyways, how was school? Did you have a good day?”

“It was fine,” she shakes off her previous flusteredness, tucking her leg under her body so that she can turn to fully face him. “But there's nothing to tell. I would much rather hear about what you thought of Panic! And you have to tell me why you were wiping tears off of your face when I came in.”

Luke mirrors her position and gives her a joyful grin, trying to ignore the fact that she clearly noticed him trying to clean his face and wants to talk about it. The two of them have been so good at communication, and if it were about anything else, he would tell her. 

But he was nearly sobbing because of how much he loved her and couldn’t have her, so… 

“They were pretty cool, I’ll give it to you. I liked the album… Vices and Virtues?” Julie nods her head. “Yeah, that one. I was finishing the Vegas one when you got home.”

“Did you like it? The album you just finished. It sounded like End of All Things when I came in.”

With wide eyes and an exaggerated nod, Luke is praying internally that she will move on and go on a tangent about her favorite albums and songs because he just wants to listen to her talk and quietly love her instead of dodge questions about his emotions. 

“Okay, and did you like it? Is that-” She chuckles. “Is that what got you emotional? I mean, I get it, that song hits different sometimes, but-”

Luke stays quiet. If he keeps his mouth shut, and just smiles and stares and nods, it won’t slip. 

“... Luke? Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“... So? Are you… Are you okay? Did it remind you of your mom?”

It reminded me of you, he instantly corrects her with the little voice in his head. 

But the voice sounds louder than usual, and then Julie’s eyes widen, and Luke couldn’t even smile and nod well enough to cover this up. Since when is he so bad at bottling up his emotions?

Right. Since he couldn’t write songs about his feelings. Because if he did, Julie would see them, so every word of affection toward her was shoved into an overflowing filing cabinet in his brain that was probably waiting to explode at any moment. 

“It- Really?”

Mental checklist: She isn’t running away. She isn’t crying. She isn’t running away while she’s crying. 

She isn’t slapping him, or screaming at him, or expressing any negative emotions. 

Maybe he can push another inch… Just for some relief.

“Y- Yeah.” The single word takes considerable effort to stutter out, but he says it. 

Julie formulates her next move. “And… Like, what about it? What reminded you of me?”

Is Luke imagining things, or did she just shift closer to him? Oh, God. The selfishness has already done it’s damage. He’s initiating something that he definitely shouldn’t for both of their sake, but-

God, why does she look so pretty?

“Y’know,” he scratches the back of his neck, “the… The lyrics.” 

“The lyrics?” “Yeah.”

“Which ones?”

She’s leaning in. Her fingers are trailing up the side of his leg, and he wants to poof himself out of this conversation but what would hiding do? Just create a bigger gap between them?

His mom always told him he was selfish. He really, really doesn’t want to be selfish to Julie. He wants to protect her. He wants to put her health and happiness and life before his. Hurting her will never give him peace. 

Is he being selfish either way? Telling her his feelings to make himself feel better, and avoiding his feelings because he thinks it will be better without talking to her about it -- neither are ideal, are they?

His hand, which was previously resting in his lap, inches down to brush against hers. “The first verse…” Their index fingers wrap around each other. “And the chorus, and the second verse…”

Both of their hands tangle until Luke doesn’t even remember what his hand looked like before, because all he sees is a bronze-ivory marble of skin and he knows he doesn’t ever want to see his hand without hers again. 

“Luke…”

“Yeah, Boss?” “Why were you upset?”

She really won’t let it go. She clearly knows him too well, because he would hope any other person would be distracted by the fact that they were about to kiss, but this is Julie. They’re friends first. Family first. 

He owes her honesty, doesn’t he?

“Because the song was right,” he answers, staring deadlocked at their joined hands. “No matter where I am, or how much time goes by… It’s gonna be you. On my mind. My feelings will never change.”

He can’t tell, but Julie’s heart ignites in her chest. 

“Feelings? What-”

Somehow, the words still don’t want to come out. The eight letters are resisting every opportunity she has offered him, so he resorts to actions and cuts her off by raising their joined hands to kiss the back of her hand. 

His lips linger before their union drops back into the space between them.

“... Oh.”

“Yeah.”

In a moment of courage, Luke peeks up at her, just to see how she looks. If he can read everything she’s feeling in a millisecond of a glance. 

There are tears in her eyes. 

“Whoa, Jules, why are you crying?” “Why were you crying?”

“Because I’m afraid of doing this!” Her hand tightens around him at his volume. “Julie, I- I don’t want to do anything selfish. I can’t have you thinking I’m selfish. I’m afraid of-” He has to take a deep, shaky breath. “When we hold hands or when you smile at me and I just feel so much and then I tell myself that I can’t, because you have so much ahead of you, and I don’t even know what’s in my future.”

The tears well in her eyes. “What would you be doing that’s selfish, Luke? You have a second chance at life. You should fucking live it. You have a future, and it has the boys, and the band, and me. I’m in your future.” 

There’s a beat, because he’s looking at her, and he wants to cry but he wants to say it so badly. 

He still doesn’t know how much time he has in the future, but Julie is telling him that she’ll be there. And he needed that more than anyone would understand. 

“Well, aren’t I?”

Julie’s question shocks him a little because he hadn’t realized that he had been quiet for so long. Her bottom lip trembles the smallest amount when she sucks in a deep breath, and it sets him off to do what he had once deemed to be the most selfish act of all. 

His free hand tucks itself in the hair on the base of her neck and tugs her towards him before he covers her mouth with his in a kiss that he has furiously dreamed of for a long time. For such a sweet moment, there is an overload of passion behind it. All of his fantasies were rushed and adrenaline-fueled after shows before he would talk himself down; and now, that is translating to this kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps as he pulls away. “That’s the selfish thing I was worried about. Fuck, I-”

Her hand wrestles free from his, and suddenly, two hands are on his cheeks like the night after the Orpheum and the love of his life is pulling herself into his lap. On autopilot, he untucks his leg from underneath him and shifts to sit normally on the couch while Julie’s legs hold her up on each side of his hips. 

And she’s kissing him again, touching him again, before he can let the panic set in. She moves her lips against his like she has her own overflowing filing cabinet of feelings and fantasies and lyrics just for him.

Her hands wondrously drain every jolt of worry and anguish from his nervous system as they run from his face to his arms to his chest and back again. Kissing Julie Molina is a thousand little feelings and it’s own feeling  in itself.

When you get cold water from a water fountain and it’s so refreshing that you insatiably want more. When the set ends and Luke is taking his bows and watching people scream and clap for their performance, knowing once again he’s succeeding in the one thing he’s ever wanted to do. 

Only now, making music is now tied with making Julie happy on that list of priorities. 

Holding her under his hands is stupidly one of his favorite things, and in this context, it is leaving him clawing for more. He applies more pressure against her back to try and press her closer, but it never feels like enough. 

Julie is an endless fountain of fervor, and he can only drink up everything he can get. 

She’s the one who pulls away this time; but she keeps her fingers knotted in his hair because she plans to not stray far. 

“You’re not selfish,” she sighs, chest heaving with deep breaths. “If you think that’s selfish, then I’m selfish. And we can do this together. We deserve it.”

Hearing the words tumble from her lips cancels out every fight he’s ever had with his mother. 

She’s right -- they do deserve it. She shut the world out for a year, he was locked away from the world for 25, and by some miraculous turn of fate, they were brought to each other. 

“We deserve it,” he repeats, a little distracted by her blown pupils and delirious smile. “We deserve it.”

They lean in at the same time to fall back into one another like it’s a new routine they’ve set. Luke doesn’t say the words, not yet, at least-

Because like she said, they deserve this. Julie Molina is on his lap, in his arms, playing him with her soft hands like his skin is the ivory keys she’s been playing since childhood. He loves her, and he’s pretty sure that she loves him -- so maybe, even though the future is uncertain, he can just wait a little longer to tell her. There’s simultaneously less of a delay and less of a rush. 

Later, when they’re in her room and staying up way too late for a school night in deep discussion, he mumbles it against her forehead while she has her head tucked into his shoulder and their shared earbuds are playing The End of All Things. 

Any concerns of selfishness fade when she wastes no time in reciprocating his declaration and punctuating her feelings with a cripplingly soft kiss above his collar bone. 

If any of this is selfish, they can be selfish together. Luke can find himself to be content in that if Julie is right there with him. 

--

tags: @lydias--stiles @bluefirewrites @willexx @moreflowersthanweeds @ruzek-halstead @xxprettylittletimebombxx  @unsaid-emily

A Study In Behavior: Chapter 1

A Study In Behavior (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Obsession

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.8K

Series Summary: When you signed up for Professor Reid’s class, you were expecting a low effort but interesting class to fill your psychology elective credit. Instead, your fascination with the professor leaves you spending more time than you’d expected in office hours. 

Chapter Summary: A strange dream and an unusual professor make today’s lecture much more interesting than you thought it would be.

Warnings: teacher/student relationship, cursing, mentions of anxiety, suggestive language, implied age gap.

A/N: I’m planning on making this an eventual smut slow burn, since this is one of my favorite tropes and I want to make it a Realistic daydream lmao. This chapter is focused on introducing you to the world, reader, and this version of Spencer. Lots of potential here, I already have a million different ideas of how this should go... as always dms and asks are open!

~

The pattering of rain on the tin roof seemed to crescendo, a million drummers tapping out a perpetual drumroll on steel drums above your head. You’d always complained you couldn’t hear yourself think with all that noise, but you missed it despite yourself when you left Seattle for college. You were pulled away from that brief moment of self awareness by the touch of a cold hand, clutching yours as if you might be snatched away at any moment if the grip were to loosen.

You opened your eyes, finding yourself in a bed you knew all too well. A bed you’d spent too many hours in, slept too many nights in, and yet was not your own. Turning your head to the right, you took in the sight of your sleeping mother, her expression of serenity contradicted by the deep creases in her face, betraying the frown that she wore most of her waking life. Your gaze trailed down to your hand in hers; her knuckles were turning white from her tight grip, but you didn’t feel any pain. 

Laying next to her, you watched her face for what felt like hours as her chest rose and fell in the lazy patterns of slumber, too afraid of waking her with your movement to breathe. She almost looked happy like this. Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud beeping sound. You looked around for the offending fire alarm, but as you scanned the ceiling it began to dissolve before your eyes, the grip on your hand loosening until you broke free from the scene fully.

~

You opened your eyes with a start as you sat up quickly, feeling out of place in your own room. You were a painting placed in the wrong section of a museum, an unintentional imposter. Nails digging into your comforter, you tried in vain to slow your shallow breaths as you looked around wildly for something to remind you of where you were, of who you were. 

Your eyes skipped from your stack of  records from your childhood leaning casually against the wall beside the record player on your desk, to the stacks of books watching over you from the top of your bookshelf, unable to fit on the shelves but too close to your heart to part with. Your gaze finally settled on the floor, taking in the mess you’d been meaning to clean up for days now. 

As you returned to your body, you could no longer ignore the blaring of your alarm, groaning as you reached for your phone on the nightstand. A glance at the screen had you shooting out of bed. Shit, I have to be at class in 20 minutes. You got up, muttering to yourself about how 8 A.M. classes should be considered cruel and unusual punishment, and maneuvered around your clothes strewn across the floor. 

As you raced to your closet, your eyes scanned the clothes you owned, speeding through mental images of a million combinations before giving up and reaching for your comfort clothes. You pulled on the green high waisted cargo pants that you’d owned since high school. Nobody to impress in this class anyway, you reasoned, grabbing the fitted white crop top that your friend had embroidered your name on. 

You tore through the apartment in the most violent and rushed performance of a morning routine the world had ever seen, only half trying to keep quiet for the sake of your neighbors. Hair tangled between your fingers and makeup was swiped on haphazardly as you struggled to make yourself presentable, cursing at the time and throwing random belongings in your bag.

Calling out a goodbye to your roommate only to be met with silence, you realized that in your frenzy you had forgotten that no sane college student would willingly be up at this hour. Shaking your head as you rushed out of your building, you mused that you’d just gotten all your stupid mistakes for today over with quite efficiently. 

Three years of mediocre dorm experiences had left you desperate for a change, and luckily your now-roommate Jordan volunteered to split the rent for the 2 bedroom you now called home. You’d both agreed to ignore whatever ghost stories scared off previous residents and earned you a fair price for a decent place close to campus; ghosts would just add a little intrigue to your domestic life, you’d joked. 

Checking the time once more, you cursed under your breath and broke out into a run. God, I should work out more, you thought as your lungs began to burn, I wouldn’t stand a chance in a zombie apocalypse. Racing through campus, you finally reached the doors of the lecture hall that held your class… which had started three minutes prior. You tried to catch your breath before opening the door, cringing as you heard the professor pause mid-lecture. 

You tried not to meet anyone’s gaze as you quickly made your way to a seat. The first one you could find was in the third row-- close enough to the front to make out the facial expressions of your professor, who had continued his train of thought after you entered, choosing to ignore you in favor of finishing his idea. 

As you got settled and tuned into the lecture, you realized the professor was still reviewing the syllabus. Pulling it up on your laptop, you looked at the top to remind yourself of his name: Dr. Spencer Reid. Finally looking up, your mind went blank. Oh. Not only was your professor way younger than you’d expected, he was... well, attractive. Thats’s a reasonable objective assessment, right? You knew he was just as knowledgeable as older professors-- you’d chosen this course for its fantastic reviews from previous students-- but his youth was a welcome change from the dinosaurs you were so used to in the neuroscience department. 

As you studied him, you only became more sure in your original assessment; he was tall, with tousled brunet hair and a face that was… well, unfair. You weren’t surprised to catch a few other girls unabashedly staring at him, clearly drooling over the man as he spoke animatedly about his favorite parts of the course. 

You shook yourself-- this man was your professor. You shouldn’t think about how attractive he is, it’s unprofessional. You also shouldn’t look at his hands the way you are right now, following them as he gestured along with his words you still weren’t paying attention to. You definitely shouldn’t think about what those hands could do. 

Oh my god, snap out of it, you reprimanded yourself, you can’t afford to spend the semester fantasizing about your professor, focus on the class! You finally tuned in to the lecture, catching the end of what sounded like a tangent about the difference between triggers and stressors. For the rest of the class, you listened intently, drawn in by Professor Reid’s clear excitement about the topic. 

Your efforts to ignore your professor’s appearance were somewhat successful, but as you listened to him speak passionately about the value of profiling as a tool for certain types of criminal investigations, you knew you were done for. His excitement about sharing his knowledge left you fighting back a smile, watching intently as he gestured wildly. You’d always liked listening to fellow nerds, eagerly basking in the pure delight beaming from their faces as they ranted about their subject of interest.

You sighed internally, preparing yourself for a semester of unreasonable dedication to this class, which was meant to be your chill psych elective to leave you more time to spend in the lab. It’s not like this topic wasn’t interesting to you, it was just that you weren’t expecting to be obsessed with it-- or more accurately, the man teaching it.

Before you knew it, the class was over. Professor Reid told everyone to finish the assigned reading by next class in preparation for a discussion, dismissing the class and walking over to his desk. You gathered up your belongings and the remnants of your dignity before slowly making your way to the exit, lost in thought about the overlap between your field and his. 

Your feet changed course before you could stop to think about what you were doing. When you tuned back in, you were horrified to find that you were walking towards Professor Reid. Right when you were about to turn around and try to escape without further embarrassment, you were stopped by his curious but friendly gaze. Ignoring your inner voice’s screams of horror, you composed yourself and made your way over to his desk. 

He spoke before you could, greeting you with a small smile and a polite “how can I help you?”

“Hi! Um, I just wanted to come apologize for being late today. I promise, it’s really unlike me, and I just don’t want you to think that I don’t care about your class or anything, because it seems really cool so far and I’m so interested in seeing how this could apply to my research and I was only really late because of this dream I had-”

You stopped before going into detail, saving yourself from your nervous rambling, and he spoke your name hesitantly. Your confusion must have been apparent on your face, because he looked at your chest, clearly having made the connection from the word embroidered on it. The devil on your shoulder whispered that his eyes had lingered there longer than they needed to, but you dismissed that thought quickly. 

“There’s no need to apologize, as long as you don’t make a habit of it we should be fine,” he reassured you, “and judging from how well you paid attention today, I have no doubt you’ll more than make up for it next class in the discussion.”

You bit back a smile at his praise, shocked he’d noticed you at all. You thanked your lucky stars he’d interpreted your staring as interest in the class, rather than the glaring sign of attraction that it would easily be identified as in any other setting. You quickly nodded, thanking him for his understanding and promising it wouldn’t happen again before exchanging goodbyes as you turned and walked out of the room. 

Bursting out of the lecture hall, you finally filled your lungs with air fully, trying to regain some sense of control over your feelings. As you walked to the library to study, your mind wandered back to Professor Reid. It’s not like he’d ever feel the same way, what’s the harm in a little daydreaming? You decided you could live with a harmless crush. Keeps things interesting, you thought. Stepping into your castle of books, you pushed the events of the morning to the back of your mind, but one thought lingered: This is going to be one hell of a semester.

piano, practice & peptalks

pairing: chenle x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 5.9k

summary: chenle is the pianist for your senior year production of high school musical and he always stays late to help you practice

alternatively: chenle make heart go woosh

a/n: i wrote this a year ago so it may not be great,, he’s a shy boy in this im sorry,, but if people can write jeno as a bad boy all the time i can have my shy boy chenle so,,,, also i tried to edit it but i got tired of reading it over and over so its still a mess

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

“start on four okay, i’ll count you in,” chenle instructed, nodding his head like he was confirming your next actions to himself. he hadn’t even glanced in your direction, his eyes fixated on his hands that laid on top of piano keys. 

you were sat on the floor, a pointless rolled up and crumpled script in your hands, and just like chenle your eyes were glued to the movement of his hands against the piano. “one,” his fingers mechanically moving, nodding along to the beginning melody you both had heard at least a thousand times in the last hour. “two,” you were starting to get nervous again, maybe it wasn’t the greatest idea to ask the most musically gifted human to probably ever exist to help you practice for a school play. it was just another under budgeted, high school musical rendition of “high school musical” after all, because your school lacked any ounce of originality.  “three,” you took a breathe in, flopping out the lines in your hand so you could easily see, cringing at the noise. “four,” his eyes moved to you, still playing the basic tune, checking to see if you were going to start on time. which, sadly, was a rare occurrence. you tried your best to listen to his cue breathily beginning, “it’s funny-“ “nope, again,” he stopped you immediately, almost ruthlessly. you kicked your feet lightly against the stage, humming in disappointment. “but chenle, whyyy?” it came out in an unintentional whine. he laughed humorlessly, shifting his body so it was facing you, a hand running through his hair. he still had a smile on your face but you were sure it was more from annoyance than happiness. his hand dropped from his hair so he could look you in the eyes, though you could swear he was looking right passed you instead “you were off key, if you kept going, the whole song would have been wrong and we’d be wasting time.” “it seems like we’re wasting time anyways,” you mumbled under your breathe, frustrated, breaking the “eye contact”. you let your head droop towards the ground as you played with the half empty water bottle beside you. “hey,” his loud voice was so much softer now clearly noticing your frustration. he leaned forward on his bench his elbows resting on his knees, hair swooped slightly over his eyelashes, “look at me yn.” you listened to him and were met with his soft droopy eyes gazing right into yours, this time making your heart skip a beat. when he got your attention he started speaking again, awkwardly moving his hands along with his words not knowing what to do with them when he wasn’t playing the piano, “i’m sorry if i’m being too tough on you, i just know you can be great and i want to see that.” you huffed not appreciating his half assed pep talk, falling back on your hands, resting them flat on the floor behind you. “sure, whatever i’ll try harder.” “no yn, that's not what i’m saying. i um- you want to be like gabriella don’t you? work hard and it’ll pay off okay?” he tried, his tone a little stressed but slightly humorous. “gabriella was late to all the rehearsals and try outs, and almost didn’t go to the performance,” your tone was empty and tired, also a little raspy from all the times it had to stop and start. chenle was taken aback for a second, or at least you thought he was, his expression morphed back into the usual small smile almost instantly. “okay then, um, don’t be like her then, be like sharpay.” “but she doesn’t get the role after working hard for years,” you fought back sternly, like this was the subject you were most passionate about in life and not like you were just happy you got to take a break from chenle telling you that you were wrong.  he laughed a little, pushing himself up so now one hand was on his knee and the other was pushing the hair back out of his face. his navy blue sweater flopped open a little as he moved. “just let me have this yn, i’m trying to motivate you!” you were sure he was just as tired as you were having to play the same notes over and over, and the dim lighting of the stage didn’t make it any better. “never,” you fought back a little bite in your voice and he lazily rolled his eyes at you deciding it was best to turn away, back towards the comfort of his piano now. “we’re going again you know the count,” again without any confirmation he began playing, patronizingly calling out the number to you, and this time, just to push his buttons, you started at 3. “stop,” he muttered, before you could even get the second syllable out. “yn, you have to listen to me for the millionth time, it’s 1-2-3-4 and THEN you start singing, please stop missing the beat before i-“ he was keeping his tone low and calm but his hands waved through the air violently as he spoke, until his tangent was broken off by you laughing to the side. with the tiniest admirable smirk on his face he turned to see you giggling on the ground getting amusement from his annoyance.  “you should have seen your face,” you happily expressed through your giggles making him shake his head in disbelief “my face didn’t even move,” if you didn't know better you’d say his voice was almost whining back at you. “yeah but you wanted it too. i saw twitches zhong chenle don’t lie to me!” you cut him off when he tried to interject a finger held in the air just for emphasis “there was no-“ he took a breathe knowing you were just trying to get a reaction out of him, wanting to give into your game, but wanting more to practice at the same time, “let’s just start again and no forgetting how to count this time.” “one.” ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈« “that’s not the note,” he stopped playing and instead took to guiding you through the song with his finger moving up and down in the air as if you could understand that perfectly. “listen chenle, we can’t all be literal prodigies like you,” like always you began your usual squabble with him that had started to occur almost every time you messed up. or in other words, a lot. “hate to break it to you yn,” he started, tracing his hand over a key while playfully looking into your eyes, “but it doesn’t take a musical genius to be able to sing along to high school musical, zac efron could do it for god sake” “actually zac efron didn’t sing his parts in high school musical,” chenle appeared stunned, like he did every time you said something that he didn’t know, this might not even have been true but it was nice to have rendered him speechless if only for a second. his mouth hung open cutely until he swallowed and spoke again his lips in a small pout “i should just stop using characters as an argument you thwart me every time.” “did you just say ‘thwart’?” you laughed falling forward slightly holding your stomach. he nudged you with his shoulder, looking away embarrassed but still smiling along with you ALSO speaking of him nudging you, after many many practices together chenle finally let you sit beside him on his bench. you took this as a large accomplishment. you’d only seen one person sit on his bench before during normal play rehearsal and he definitely wasn’t welcoming their presence. chenle’s best friend, jisung’s, girlfriend, craving to be liked by everyone, pushed in beside him a few days ago taking up room with not only her form but also her overwhelmingly, extroverted personality. chenle, though clearly uncomfortable, just smiled shyly and opted to show her how to play a few simple chords per her request. it took jisung constant tapping on her shoulders for about five minutes straight to finally get her away with new piano knowledge she’d surely forget seconds after. bUT besides all that, chenle had finally allowed you to sit with him, and that’s all that mattered, even if it did leave room for more nit picking and teasing. “let’s just get back to practicing,” he said through his laugh, straightening his posture. you followed his lead almost comically straightening your back to mock him which just making him laugh more. he playfully pushed your forearm to get your shoulders to fall again, “stop ittt!” you punched your arm out just enough so it missed the piano in front of you and turned your head towards chenle, “stop what chenle, this is my battle position.”

he shook his head and positioned his eyes on the piano, “i’m starting whether you like it for not, so stop fooling around.” “fine,” swiftly your arms were crossed across your chest, an over dramatic pout morphing all your other features, “you’re no fun.” “oh, so that’s how we’re going to be,” he sounded like he was challenging you and not like he had been offended by your comment. chenle cleared his throat, positioned himself and his hands like he was about to play an epic concerto, and then in one quick movement he hit a single key around the center right of the piano, “you need to be here, but you are-“ he then proceeded to smash his hands down on the keyboard to create a loud unpleasant mash of noise, “here.” “heyyy,” you kicked his foot with your own lightly “you’re a bully zhong chenle.” ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈« your eyes were locked with chenle’s as you ran through one of the musical numbers. he was sat off to the side on his piano bench which he seemed to never move from while you were up on main stage, the stage lights blinding the corner of your eyes. it was almost the end of practice and you were tired, the cast was tired, the theatre teacher was tired, but chenle, somehow he had all the energy in the world to dance mockingly off to the side moving cutely around to try to copy your actions. you probably should have been watching your step or at least watching your “co star” because it wasn’t exactly safe with all the basketballs haphazardly thrown around. but instead you couldn’t take your eyes off probably the dorkiest little piano man. “okay, okay CUT!” your teacher called from one of the seats at the back of the room, pushing herself up slightly so she appeared more in charge. the dancing and singing stopped abruptly with her words and you stumbled a little having to be caught by jaemin who happened to be beside you, you could already imagine chenle laughing at you later, “yn dear, for the love of god please pay attention to what’s going on instead of staring at chenle.” you. were. embarrassed. your eyes sunk from the teacher to the ground to chenle who was indeed laughing and back to the ground before nodding and muttering an “um i- okay, sorry.” the teacher nodded back and turned her attention to the smiling boy,  “and chenle,” his expression immediately dropped and you saw him noticeably get shy and swallow “keep up the enthusiasm.” the rest of practice went smoothly, sadly with a lot less chenle dancing and a lot more actually practicing. like always you stayed later with chenle. he would always be waiting for you by his piano as you said goodbye to your friends and cast mates, sometimes he’d play to speed by time and you’d wait a little longer to go to him just to listen. but today zhong chenle wasn’t at his piano, today he was dribbling one of the basketballs that used to be a tripping hazard, across the stage. you leaned your left side on the wall beside you, your arms crossed and a teasing smile prepared on your expression. just as he was about to shoot on the flimsy basketball net some kid had taken off his driveway to help with the set, you snuck up behind him. with a light tap on his arms, you yelled a loud “boo!” causing him to drop the ball out of his hands and spin around towards you with a pout. “what was that for?” he continued to frown even as you smirked and ducked under his gaze to grab the basketball that had stopped rolling on the floor beside him. “i just wanted to show you how a real pro does it,” you said confidently a quick nod to your head and the basketball tucked under your arm. “uh huh sure,” chenle spoke sarcastically lunging forward to grab the ball out of your hands but you dodged his arms and ran a little to the side away from him “is that why it took you so many tries to get the ball in during practice yesterday?” “i just didn’t want to intimidate them with my talents, god chenle,” you moved your hand up to your head as you spoke and the ball rolled away from your grasp. quickly you scampered after it not wanting chenle to get it before you. “right, right sorry i doubted you.” he began walking to his piano again and you knew what that meant, more practicing. “let’s go over the song we stopped on yesterday, yeah?” he expected you to follow, instead you tossed the basketball weakly and it flew about 5 feet in front of you to the left side of the net. you turned on your feet hoping chenle hadn’t noticed and pretending that you had meant for that to happen: of course chenle noticed, he had his hand covering his smile as he laughed. as soon as you saw him as happy as he was, you knew you didn’t want to practice. “no,” you held your ground your feet cemented to the floor. “no?” his laughing haulted and, like the cutie he was, his head tilted in confusion. “i’m hungry” it was the first thing to pop into your head and plus, you really were hungry. somehow though you still sounded confident.  “you’re hungry?” he repeated your words back slower his eyes squinting against the bright stage lights which you hadn’t turned off yet. your eyes rolled the slightest bit and your hand rested on your hip, though you weren’t actually annoyed “what are you a parrot now?” “no,” he said. “i just don’t know how to respond, you don’t have food do you?” “no,” your face scrunched “that’s why i’m hungry.” he opened his mouth to speak but you continued talking “but there are vending machines and you seem like the kind of guy to always have your wallet on you.” “i’m not buying you food.” “but chenleee,” you tried a whine and puppy dog eyes that he never fell for. “no.” “look, i’ve been rehearsing for three hours, THREE HOURS CHENLE, please give me money so i can get us something from the vending machines,” you had your hands together, ready to beg him. originally this was just an excuse but now that you thought about it you were starving and you could already hear your stomach grumbling in the near future. he stood up from his bench dusting off his knees as just a habitat, because really where would he have acquired dust?  “if you can beat me in a basketball game to three, i’ll buy you food.” “you’re on,” and with that chenle lazed across the stage towards the basketball that laid just off stage and his nonchalant movements led you to believe this win would be easy even if you sucked. boy were you wrong. chenle tossed the ball to you which you caught with an oomf not expecting the strength behind it. you let him walk to center stage again before you bowed “what the fuck yn-“ “it’s for honor,” you hissed gesturing for him to do what you did “that’s not how it-“ you looked up in a glare “fine, whatever.” as soon as he awkwardly bowed you ran forward messily dribbling the ball. you heard his initial shock and then a laugh behind you and then seconds later in front of you as he swooped the ball out of your possession. “that’s illegal,” you cried chasing after him as he dribbled to the other side and easily sent it into the basket. he retrieved the ball and turned back to your slumped form smiling “no, that’s one for me.” “you’re not supposed to be good at this,” you sighed as he tossed the ball back in your direction. “come on yn” he said. “if zac efron can do it then you can too” you went to speak your finger up in the air like you were going to correct him again so he spoke faster than you, “what are you going to tell me zac efron didn’t do any of the basketball playing as well?” “no,” you bounced the ball in front of you “i was going to ask you if you only have one pep talk?” “yes i do,” he rubbed his hands together getting ready to play again, “now start dribbling so i can get 2 more points and we can go back to practicing.” “um i think you mean, i get 3 more points and we eat snacks.” “not a chance.” and with your newfound will to beat chenle you ran forward only to get the ball taken from you a second time. this time you reacted faster deciding to latch onto him in true koala form instead of going for the ball. “this-“ he tried to shake you off his back are the ball rolled out of his hands and across the stage again “is not how you play basketball.” “that’s because you’ve never seen my strategy.” “i don’t know what you hope to achieve from this strategy,” he laughed finally shrugging you off.  “snacks.” you answered, “i hope to achieve snacks.” chenle won the game 3-1 sadly, after his second basket he noticed your enthusiasm withering so he “accidentally” fumbled the ball in your direction 3 or 4 times until you finally got it in. his third point was achieved about 3.5 seconds later from the opposite side of the “court” to stop you from getting too cocky. “let’s go practice now,” you groaned and stopped chenle by pulling his arm before he could go back to the dreaded piano. “please chenle, buy me snacks,” you whined trying again with the puppy dog eyes “i’ll name my first born child after you.” “well i don’t think that’s necessary-“ “i’ll mention you in my award acceptance speeches when i’m famous, you’ll be known as zhong chenle the guy who got me snacks and saved my life,” you tugged on his arm more and you could feel him relenting “fine,” he said as he took out his wallet with the hand that wasn’t being pulled by you. “thank you-“ you yelled out happily jumping away from him “but-“ he held $10 in front of you and when you went to grab it he moved it away, “you have to promise me you’ll get famous, cause if you don’t i’m marching straight up to your house and getting my money back.” “of course,” you nodded barely listening to what he said your eyes fixed on the money in his hand which you snatched as soon as he brought it near. you sprinted off down the halls to the nearest vending machine leaving chenle on stage shaking his head with a fond smile. “why did you get apple slices,” chenle asked picking up the cold green plastic they were in and plopping them back on the ground in front of him. “i didn’t know if you were a vegetarian so i didn’t want to offend you,” you responded plopping a chip in your mouth, the bag of which chenle grabbed from your hand the second he noticed. you were both sitting cross legged on the stage floor across from each other the food laying in between you.

chenle waited until he finished his chip to speak, “chips are vegetarian yn, they’re just potatoes.”

“you’re a potato.” 

“that was uncalled for.”

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“we’re soaring. flying. there's not a star-” chenle mumbled through the words robotically as he played leaning forward to squint at the lyrics. 

you hit him with your slightly rolled up script, “sing! when i asked you to help with the duet i meant singing.”

“i’m not singing,” chenle leaned back his hands in his lap and no longer on the piano as he shook his head. 

“come on chenle if zac efron can do it you can too,” you laughed taking his stupid pep talk from him. 

he turned his head in your direction amused, “from what i heard zac efron didn’t sing either.”

“not in high school musical maybe,” you said smirking, “but he did in the greatest showman, at least i think he did.”

“you’re a loser.” 

“says you.”

he sighed and straightened out the sheet music on his piano, “let's start again.”

“are you going to sing?” you perked up hoping he would give in like he had for the snacks a few days ago.

“no,” he shook his head again, harder this time, like if he shook his head enough the idea would leave yours.

“please?” you were pouting and he knew it so he decided not to look at you, knowing that over the past few weeks he had been getting softer for your every action. 

“no,” his tone was uncertain and you latched onto that like he knew you would. 

“chenle,” you said this to get his attention hoping he would turn towards you like he usually did but again he refused his leg bouncing beside him. 

your socked feet hit against his piano bench in frustration which you sat on cross legged facing him. “chenle look at me.”

this time he did but he wouldn’t meet your eyes shyly he looked down at the ground beside you. you delicately grabbed his hands from off the piano and into your own.

when you squeezed his hands a little he finally looked into your eyes and you smiled at him, “chenle will you please sing with me?” you asked softly, softer than he’d ever heard your voice before. 

“fine” chenle relented, he knew if he looked into your hopeful eyes for too long he would agree but there was really no helping it. 

“really?” your eyes sparkled not expecting his response and he nodded.

“really.” he cleared his throat, “but don't laugh at how much i suck alright?”

“chenle i’ll only laugh if you're really bad, don’t worry” you watched as his shy expression changed into a pout on his soft lips. then you realized you were looking at his lips. You looked back into his eyes to see him staring back at you with a look of soft wonder.

with a small cough to break the silence and to break your hands apart, you forced a laugh “i’m kidding, i bet you’re great anyways your good at everything else.”

“i can literally do two things,” he laughed. Good, you were back to your usual interactions. 

“well that's two more things than me,” you fought back.

his mouth fell open like you had offended him but his eyes were still friendly, “um shut up, you can sing, you can dance, you can steal my heart,” he made a heart shape with his hands after he spoke.

“you can’t sweet talk me out of making you sing.” 

“darn.”

“and who the fuck still says darn?”

“your mom?”

you hit his shoulder a little harder than usual, “zhong chenle!”

“i’m sorry it just slipped out, i didn’t mean to bring back a joke from the 2000’s,” he looked ashamed but you saw the smile twitching on his lips. jEsus stop looking at his lips.

“i just-” you placed a hand over your heart, your head turned away dramatically, “i just don’t know if we can be friends anymore after that.”

“yn-”

“no i'm leaving,” you said getting up from the bench and grabbed your bag that laid on the ground beside you.

before you could step away he lightly grabbed your wrist in his hand and gently tugged you back in his direction, “don’t leave.”

he was too soft to decline so you huffed, you shrugged your bag off again, and sat back down on the stool.

“good,” he said letting your wrist go and turning to his piano “let’s practice.”

“fine,” you agreed taking in a breath of air “but no piano this time.”

“you want me to sing acapella with you?” he asked in disbelief, doubting you would stick to this seemingly outrageous request.

“yes,” you confirmed quickly.

“okay,” chenle didn’t know why he agreed or why he agreed so easily but he knew he couldn’t back out now without another fight, “so um- how do we start?”

“not so tough without your piano huh?” you teased reaching to his sheet music and handing it to him, “first you probably need the lyrics.”

“good call,” he nodded rocking back, one hand on the bench the other holding the lyrics, and swallowing nervously.

you could see how tense he was and placed a hand over his too try to calm him down a bit, he relaxed slightly under your touch and you began to count him in “one, two, three, four.”

“we’re soaring; flying, there's not a star in heaven that we can’t reach,” his voice was so fucking pretty and he didn’t tell you this before? and for why was he being modest?? his voice was beautiful and it made your heart swell that he had agreed to share it with you and no one else.

“hey,” chenle waved the paper in your face, you blinked and broke yourself out of the thoughts you hadn’t even realized you were trapped in, “you missed your part.”

“you’re so pretty,” it came out in an over dramatic pout then you realized what you said “um- i um meant your voice is pretty.” 

in typical shy boy fashion he looked away, “i um- thank you? but it would be nice if you sang next time too.”

“right, lets go again.”

“whats this?” chenle smirked tilting his head in fake confusion, “yn actually wanting to practice? was my voice that moving?”

“shut up,” you huffed and raised your fingers in a count to start again.

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“wheres yn?” jaemin asked leaning over chenle's shoulder as he did the soundcheck for the night.

“what do you mean, ‘where's yn’” he did finger quotes and his face scrunched up slightly annoyed and confused.

“i mean, wheres yn,” jaemin repeated again in the same curious tone “she’s not with the cast so i thought she’d do with you”

“what do you mean she’s not with the cast?” chenle’s voice was louder now trying to hide that he was worried about you when nothing was probably happening.

“I mean shes not with the cast-” jaemin frowned “why do you want me to keep repeating things? are you okay chenle?”

chenle ignored him and quickly finished his soundcheck going off to find you. awkwardly he went up to one of your friends spending the whole time fiddling with his fingers until they told him you had gotten nervous and went to splash some water on your face. 

he spoke quick thank you and wandered down the hall to see if you were okay, hesitantly he knocked on the door “in a minute!” you called from behind it your voice shakier than normal. 

“hey yn, you're on in um-” he looked down at his watch and his heart rate picked up, “literally two minutes, you good?”

“um yeah,” he heard a loud sniff as you walked over to the door and opened it. 

your face was red and you brought a hand up to rub your eyes leaning on the door frame giving chenle a fake smile.

“have you been crying?”

“no,” you sniffed.

he gave you a disbelieving look and you frowned tears spilling from your eyes again, he held his arms open and you immediately fell into them, holding onto him tightly. one arm wrapped around you while his other texted jaemin to tell the teacher they may have to delay the musical a few minutes. 

placing his phone back into his back pocket he brought a hand up to move down your hair calmingly as you cried into his chest.

“yn,” you hummed against him in response until he moved you back his hands on your shoulders, holding you about a foot away. he cautiously brushed a tear away with his thumb, “you’re going to do great and i’m the harshest critic in the world, you of all people know that.”

“yeah,” you sniffed again “but you like me now, so it’s not the same.”

you smiled sadly at your own comment and he smiled with you “i’ve always liked you.”

“liar.” 

“okay, maybe i didn’t like you when we first met because you cut in line and took the last of the pizza,” chenle agreed, you humphed at him, a little glare in your eyes “but i liked you the second time i saw you, you know when you accidentally threw a pencil at my head, i really needed a pencil that day.”

you giggled and chenle was happy he was making progress. 

“this isn’t like your usual pep talks,” you teased, biting your lip as you looked up at him.

“well after a while i learned every single character in high school musical is actually corrupt and maybe not the best people for motivation.” 

“good call,” you nodded, “but you’re not even going try? i like shutting your pep talks down.”

“fine um-“ he said thinking “you can do this yn be like kelsi and sing your heart out.”

“she played piano she didn’t-“

“you get my point,” he smiled his pretty smile and you couldn’t help but smile back, “and you’re going to do great, so get on out there before they kill you and i for keeping them waiting.”

“okay.” you nodded and he let your shoulders go so you could run together to the stage where everyone was panicking, and before you parted ways you gave him a quiet thank you.

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you felt the adrenaline and pride rush through you as you finished the final number in the musical. you couldn’t stop a smile that took over your entire face from forming. 

you took your bow, immediately after looked to the side hoping chenle was paying attention and there he was standing at his piano at the side of the stage giving you a standing ovation, your eyes met and he smiled so proudly. 

you felt yourself lose control of your body as you ran towards him and jumped into his unsuspecting arms, your arms wrapping around his neck and your legs around his hips. it took him a second to regain his balance from the unexpected hug but once he had, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist. 

“you did so good,” you leaned back so you could see his face and he could see yours. he was smiling. you were smiling. god was probably smiling but you couldn’t be sure. he spun you once as you both laughed and stopped looking you in the eyes “i’m so proud of you.” 

then you noticed how close his face was to yours, your eyes dropped to his lips and you could tell his did the same, your breathe was heavy from the performance as well as the close contact, chenle began to lean in and you both start laughing again. your head fell to his shoulder while you laughed together.

after a few seconds, and realizing that everyone could still see you both he put you down and shyly stepped away. his head ducking and flushed.

“i’ll um- see you later yn?” he said and you felt a little disappointed as he disappeared backstage without even waiting for your response. 

you turned back around to see your friends all huddled together laughing and talking so you quickly ran back to join in. 

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“what are you doing man?” jisung asked having walked backstage to see chenle with his face leaned up against the brick wall. 

“kicking myself,” chenle mumbled back.

“why aren’t you with yn?” jisung asked and chenle groaned flipping around just to frown at jisung.

“because i’m stupid.” 

“that you are my friend,” jisung agreed.

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you hadn’t seen chenle for the rest of that night but day 2 of performing was today and you were determined to not let him just walk away on you again. 

as soon as you entered the room your eyes snapped to the piano which luckily chenle was still sat at. he wasn’t playing just shuffling through his endless sheet music so you knew you wouldn’t be interrupting anything.

quickly you moved over to him, fixing your posture so your walk was full of false confidence and authority.

“chenle-“ you tapped his shoulder and slid into the spot beside him on his bench. 

“yn,” he mumbled his eyes keep flashing to your lips making it hard to think about anything but kissing him.

“what are you up to?” your voice was as soft as his and was hard to raise above a whisper just as much trapped in a daze as he was. 

“oh you know just um- piano” he smiled leaning to the side and accidentally resting his arm on the keys only to bounce off when they made a loud sound. you giggled at his actions and he cursed himself for ruining the moment but it had only made you want him more. 

“that’s-“ you started not sure of what to say “fun.” 

“yeah its um- can i kiss you?” chenle didn’t know where the confidence had come from or even where the words had come from but they were definitely there, they had been said, holy shit.

chenle was in panic, you were going to reject him, he was going to lose you, he was going to die alone and have 50 cats, wait maybe that’s actually not too bad-

“yes,” you hummed. oh. that wasn’t what he expected. 

chenle cupped your cheeks and your eyes drooped close. his heart practically fluttered out of his chest when his lips met yours and he could already feel his palms getting sweaty. he dropped his hands from his cheeks and you moved yours to wrap loosely around his neck pulling him closer but that just caused your foreheads to crash together. with a giggle from you and a groan chenle you pulled apart awkwardly placing a hand on your forehead where his had hit.

“sorry,” you laughed, your smile huge on your face and so was his, as carefree as you’d ever seen it despite the pain echoing in his head. 

“no, it’s fine,” his words were slow and breathy and sounded just as smiley as he looked. “but i don’t think gabriella would have messed up like that, or zac efron.” 

your mouth fell open and your hands flew to your hips “SHUT UP!!” 

Beware the Spirits of the Vengeful ~ Teen Wolf x Reader

So, depending on whether or not people like this I might turn this into a series, there will be character death, but I am hoping this will turn into more of a romance story because that is what I am used to writing. Multiple endings with each character and maybe a few other endings, I hope you enjoy!

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3rd Person pov

Blue and red flashed through the trees and bushes, onto the faces of terrified witnesses and onto the stern face of Sheriff Stilinski as he walked through the cemetery, a long, tired sigh escaping his body. His fellow colleagues were spread about the tombstones questioning the witnesses. He looked over at the now demolished mausoleum, apparently it just happened, video footage showed nothing, nobody near it, it just spontaneously collapsed.

The Sheriff walked over to question the last witness, someone he had questioned recently for something else, “We meet again mister Lahey!” He exclaimed, shaking the teen by the hand and nodding at the boy’s father. “What can you tell me about what happened tonight?” He asked, gesturing towards the pile of rubble in the corner of the cemetery.

The boy blew a sigh out through his lips, looking nervously between the Sheriff, the mausoleum and his father, “Well, I was doing my rounds, cleaning things up, trimming bushes and stuff, and I heard this noise, like laughter.” The boy suddenly paled and focused on the trees behind the mausoleum, where his alpha stood glowering at all the attention. “It was chilling, terrifying. Like, it was echoing off of walls that weren’t there anymore. The next thing I knew, the tomb crashed down and I had to get away from it before I was trapped.” He told the Sheriff, his voice shaking.

The boy’s father rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “Look are we done here, it’s late and Isaac has practice early tomorrow.” He said, clearly unhappy that there was yet another disturbance in his cemetery. The Sheriff sighed and waved them off, watching with a stern glare as the boy was dragged away from the crime scene by his father.

Walking towards the (l/n) family mausoleum, forensics had just finished their first sweep of the rubble, making sure that the only bodies in there, were those that were in coffins. “Anything?” He asked, looking towards a few other officers. One of the forensics walked towards him with a grave face.

“Well, we found something rather odd, we found DNA of someone outside of the coffins, now it could just be people who had visited the mausoleum, but we won’t be sure for a while.” They said, walking away.

Once again, the Sheriff sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, walking back over to his car, to find a blue Jeep also in the parking lot. “Stiles, what are you doing here?” Sheriff Stilinski asked his son, exasperated.

Stiles jumped out of his Jeep and ran towards his father, looking around him to the crime scene, “Well, I heard what had happened and I wanted to-” The boy was cut off by his father grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him back to his car.

“You cannot keep showing up to my crime scenes! Go home, Stiles.” He said, pushing the teen towards his Jeep and getting into his own car. Alone with his thoughts, the man began running through the events of the night. Why just that mausoleum? Why specifically the (l/n) mausoleum?

Time Skip~

Stiles ran through the halls of Beacon Hills High School, apologising as he ran into other students until he finally ran into the right student. “Scott! Scott, you’re not gonna believe this! Oh dude, this is insane-” Stiles’ hyperactive tangent was interrupted by his friend.

“Stiles, dude, breathe. What’s going on?” Scott asked, looking through his locker for books on his next class. Stiles hopped from foot to foot, excited to tell his friend about the research he had done.

Stiles huffed before continuing, “Okay, so about a week ago, I was listening to dad’s police scanner and apparently something happened at the cemetery. The (l/n) family mausoleum was destroyed!” Stile’s rushed through his words, desperately trying to get to the best part. “The best thing is, the camera footage of the place showed nobody but Isaac in the area and he didn’t do anything!” Scott looked at his friend confused.

“Wait, Isaac? Derek’s new beta Isaac?” He asked in a hushed whisper. Stiles merely responded with a look of disbelief.

“That’s what you took from that!?” He yelled, looking around at people’s staring before lowering his voice, “Nothing happened to the mausoleum, it just imploded!” He whisper-shouted. Scott looked at Stiles confused.

“Well, do you know what happened? How did a small building just destroy itself?” Stiles was once again hopping up and down with excitement.

“That’s the biggest thing! The forensics who were on the scene found DNA from the rubble but it was outside the coffins, like someone had been there that wasn’t dead!” Stiles looked ready to burst. “The forensics called my dad and I ‘overheard’ what had happened,” He said, using air quotes. “Apparently, the DNA belonged to a little girl that went missing nearly ten years ago, (y/n) (l/n).”

Scott looked at his friend with interest, “Well, what happened to her? I don’t remember a (y/n) (l/n) around here.” Scott racked his memory to try and remember a girl around his age that went missing. He could vaguely remember the town going crazy for a while over a child reported missing. He remembered a curfew being set for teenagers and younger kids, he also remembered his mom acting crazy, not letting him leave the house alone, not even going into the backyard.

Stiles looked down, “Nobody knows what happened to her, they never found any evidence until now, the case was closed and then reopened. Dad’s really uptight about it, apparently some of his worst days were trying to work that case only to hit a dead end. But, do you remember that creepy old dude, (father’s/name) (l/n)?” He asked, Scott nodded at his friend, everyone knew that guy, after his wife died he went a bit... weird.

“Well, if you didn’t get it from the last name, he was (y/n)’s dad, when his daughter went missing, he started acting really weird, especially around the police. Since the case has been reopened, they brought everything back from the archives and the number one suspect - her dad.” Stiles finished his tangent, looking both excited and freaked out by the story he told. 

Scott looked at Stiles, panicked, “So, you’re saying there is a chance that this guy killed his own daughter?” He whispered, still thinking the story through and its connection to him. Why was Stiles telling him all of this? 

Stiles continued his tale, “Yeah but that’s not the only thing, apparently Isaac heard laughing, echoed, creepy laughing before the mausoleum crumbled. I managed to sneak a peek at the footage and found this.” He finished, pulling out his phone with a picture of blurry camera footage. There, in the trees behind the rubble, there was something (s/t) in the shadows, it almost looked like there was a face peeking through the bushes. 

Scott looked shocked for a second, “What is that?” He asked, looking at the picture, “Is that real? That’s a face!” He continued, whispering. Stiles nodded sporadically, getting pumped again. The bell for their next class of the day rang through the halls, the boys beginning to move towards their classroom.

Stiles once again, began speaking, “Yeah, it is a face! But, it disappeared like two seconds later after staring at Isaac. I wanted to tell you because it seems very-”

“Supernatural.” Scott finished quietly, as they entered their classroom. Stiles nodded. “Okay, well we have enough to deal with because of Derek and Isaac anyways,” Scott said, watching as Isaac entered the room and smirked, “We’ll meet up after practice and talk then, see if Derek knows about any of this.” He said, stopping as their teacher walked into the room. 

“Settle down everyone,” They began loudly, “We have a new student starting today, come on in dear.” Everyone turned towards the door to see the new student. A young girl walked into the room, she had (h/l) (h/c) hair, glassy (e/c) eyes and (s/t) skin. One single thought ran through the minds of every student in the room, some with jealousy and others with deep interest, ‘She’s gorgeous’. 

The girl smiled shyly at everyone before stating quietly, “Hi, I’m (y/n) (l/n), it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Scott’s eyes widened, looking over at Stiles, hoping to see a similar reaction, but the boy was sat gawking at the girl and her beauty.

“Dude, did you hear that?” Scott whispered, catching Stiles’ attention. Stiles was jolted out of his daydreaming.

“What- what’s up?” He asked, looking swiftly between Scott and the girl, who was now making her way to the back of the class, sitting in the empty seat next to Isaac, who smiled at her, trying to charm her, before turning to the glaring males of the class and changing to a smug smirk. 

“Did you really not hear her? She said her name was (y/n) (l/n), the girl who you said went missing ten years ago!” Stiles suddenly turned to focus all his attention on Scott.

“What? Seriously? I didn’t hear that, she said something like (name that sounds like yours) or- actually, I don’t think she said anything,” Stiles muttered, trailing off. He couldn’t think of her name. Almost as if she hadn’t told them it at all. 

Scott looked over at the girl, smiling and talking to Isaac. “I’m sure it’s nothing, maybe I was just focused on that, thought I heard her say it but she said something else. You, on the other hand, were too busy gawking at her to hear her name.” He said, looking over at Stiles, only to see his attention back on the new girl. Scott slapped his friend gently on the back of the head, snapping him out of his trance.

“Anyway,” He continued, “We’ll do some research into the missing girl, see if they look alike, then we really need to talk to Derek and Isaac.” Stiles paled at the thought of having to talk to Derek, but was excited to see where it went with his research of the new girl.

(y/n) pov

Walking into the classroom, I hid behind a shy sweet persona, that would make this easier. I knew I had the looks down, us supernaturals were unnaturally good-looking, but I could sense there were supernaturals in this room. I looked out into the room of students with a shy smile, “Hi, I’m (y/n) (l/n), it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” I doubt anyone knew my story, or even that I had gone missing at all, I used my real name but masked it with a small glamour. Unless they were supernaturals, they would hear some random name that kept changing.

I looked into the wave of students and saw two in particular that caught my interest, one was a boy with an impish grin, dark blonde curls and deep blue eyes, the other boy had dark, curly hair, dark brown eyes and looked shocked, before he began whispering with a pale boy behind him. I walked through the desks until I found the empty chair next to the blonde boy, “Hi.” I whispered, looking down at my books. I’ll admit, this wasn’t the plan but I found him very attractive.

He smiled a charming smile at me and whispered back, “Hi, I’m Isaac Lahey,” He told me. ‘Oh,’ I thought to myself, ‘The boy from cemetery.’ He reached out a hand, I assume to shake my own, only to hold it in both of his. Wow, he is very out there, but still I could feel heat rushing to my cheeks. I could feel supernatural energy flooding through the boy’s warm hand into my own, he might be useful.

“It’s nice to meet you Isaac,” I told him with a bright smile, “Look, I’m starting the year pretty late, would you mind maybe, helping me catch up?” I asked quietly. I don’t think I was acting shy anymore, this boy was bringing out a different side of me. Isaac smiled widely at me, I could feel my knees weaken.

“Sure, I’d love to! How about we start after school today?” He asked, I nodded and smiled back at him. I had never had an education, let alone one in high school so this should be interesting...

Now all I needed was to find that Alpha...

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I hope you guys enjoyed this, let me know somehow if you want more of this, I really enjoyed writing this!

Not a request. I would like to know your opinion on what Undertaker's overall plan is. He made those dolls and brought o!Ciel back but for what reason and what else is he planning? 🤔 Thank you! (feel free to delete)

Absolutely! This is part one of two, I’ll link the second part when it’s written. In the meantime, hello, welcome and strap yourselves in for one hell of a ride, we’re almost on 2000 words! Let’s go!

❗️obviously spoiler warning!!!! Also, I’ve only read up to chapter 148 so if you’ve read further, please don’t spoil anything for me either!! Thank you! ❗️

-

Way back at the end of the Circus Ark, undertaker said this;

So, whatever happened with Cloudia (which needs to be put in a whole other theories post) must have involved her being overly blasé about her life/soul, in a similar way to Ciel and Vincent, I would say. Obviously the connection between Undertaker and the Phantomhives is much bigger than anything we know about and I’m willing to bet it is connected to more than just Undertaker bringing R!Ciel back to life (again, another theory post needed).

ANYWHO back on track.

Now Undertaker always talks about being happy/laughing/not wasting your soul (and by extension, life). We know he committed suicide when he was human (yet another tangent I want to go off on) after which he obviously didn’t want to have to face another life. So what, did he just get sick of reaping and the soul world and decide if he was being forced to live anyway, he should do something with his life this time? Which is where going to the human world comes into play, but (okay we’re off track again) what really happened 50 years ago?? Why did he actually leave dispatch and effectively become a fugitive? Surely there must be more to it than ‘I got bored’. And what, he just magically got involved with the Phantomive family? One of the most important families in England who also happen to operate within the underworld and work for the queen? I don’t think so. He definitely knew what he was doing. The question is, why did he do it?

Back to the task in hand, during this part of Book of the Atlantic;

Ciel actually looks scared. Ignoring everything we know about him/his personality and just looking at his face in the drawing, he looks young and frightened. Now imagine when O!Ciel was little. Undertaker would have been around a lot when him and R!Ciel were growing up, we even see him holding up the curtain behind the kids for their photograph later on in the series. O!Ciel now, as the Earl, is obviously very used to Undertaker’s antics, like his prices for information, so perhaps this was why he was goaded into paying said price himself earlier on, instead of letting Sebastian do it. Clearly, having seen Undertaker’s face for the first time, seen him attack Grell (who even Seabstain had to play dirty to beat) AND look serious all in one hit? Big shock. But that face to me is still a picture of fear rather than surprise, again demonstrating how well Undertaker kept his true identity hidden. Still, even as the lowkey crazy mortician, he’s not exactly someone you would trust your kids with. This says to me Vincent knew more about Undertaker than just face value and he knew the reaper would stay loyal to the Phantomhives. And THAT’S another thing; why?? Why would he, how could Vincent be so certain? Was it because of Cloudia? Did Vincent grow up with Undertaker around the same way the twins did?

But then there are other questions! How did he end up establishing his business? As in both sides of it. Dispatch must have searched for him, he was their best in collections, so how did he keep his true identity a secret from literally everyone, even them? Also, how much did the Phantomhives (prior to Ciel) know about him? Did Cloudia or Vincent know he was a reaper? I don’t believe that he was as close to Vincent and the twins as he was without Vincent knowing something was up. I mean the earl was very clever, in his line of work he had to be, and he trusted Undertaker with his kids, which must mean something.

Then there’s the thing with Othello. I mean clearly they know each other, hardly surprising, but Undertaker was this high flying INCREDIBLY serious collections reaper, compared to Othello (much as I love him) who couldn’t fight and ended up in forensics, the department which has practically no contact with the human world. So it makes sense that Othello knows about Undertaker, maybe even looked up to him, who knows, but why would Undertaker know Othello?

And whilst we’re on the subject (which we’re not) how did he get all those scars?? When he’s drawing wearing different clothes than normal, they are literally all over him. Anyone could have been fatal, particular focus on the one around his neck and across his chest. Now when we see him working as a reaper, he doesn’t have those scars. Given how good a fighter he is, there’s not a human in the world who could have done that. That leaves anything supernatural - demons, angels or even other reapers - which would have meant he fought them and survived (barely?). But the injuries must have been very bad to have scarred like that in the first place. Either that, or they’re fake and he just outs them on to mess with the characters’ (our) minds.

But moving on, when Ciel asks ‘to what end?’, Undertaker replies with;

So in other words, when he first rocked up in the human world, it probably was just curiosity. He needed some sort of a cover up for who he really was, so he set up a morgue. Why not? Maybe, during his many reaping jobs, he had come into contact with the work/estate of the Phantomhives. Enter Cloudia, and whatever happened there, happened. But somehow he went to serious reaper looking at the human world and the individuals living in it as one big experiment to actually caring about his lab rats. To have Cloudia’s mourning locket and be as fond of it as he is, something, in some way, must have changed. Another question is the rest of the mourning lockets. Unless they’re just for show so he can carry Cloudia’s and still fit in reasonably well (which I don’t think is the case) he must have cared about each of those people, and thus far, we have no idea who they are.

But then there’s THIS;

Bold words for a guy who cares far far too much about Ciel’s family, knowing full well right from the beginning that he would well and truly outlive them. But here is where the caring part comes in;

Unless he was taking about Sebastian. But even if he was, I think he was including himself in that statement to some extent as well, bearing in mind that of the people present, only Ciel was aware that his father knew Undertaker.

Now as for the Weston College Arc, Undertaker was obviously trying to keep away from Sebastian and Ciel for as long as possible, I suspect so that they found out about Derrick at the ‘right’ moment (for him at least) and to ensure a fight didn’t break out in front of the entire school, which would guarantee he could get away quickly without anyone knowing where he was going. But moving back in time a bit, Undertaker was involved with Weston College sometime prior to the Campania debacle (as Rian Stoker was with him when he arrived) and been contacted by Edgar Redmond, no doubt via Viscount Druitt, so all of that probably has something to do with how he managed to take over as headmaster so quickly (after all, this arc takes places directly after the Book of the Atlantic). He had been forced to blow a cover he’d been keeping up for the last 50 years so he needed somewhere to go quickly. Also, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had worked out that Weston College would be where Ciel went next too and as we established when he allowed Ciel to keep the mourning lockets, Undertaker clearly doesn’t want to cut any mores ties with him than necessary.

Then there’s this;

I think what Undertaker really wants to do is bring back Vincent, if not Cloudia, but given that reanimation requires a near perfect corpse, neither of these options are especially viable. As for his reasons, he is clearly very attached to them, and if you ask me, his lack of care for personal space in any capacity says he’s lonely, so I suspect that’s part of it. However, I think there’s probably a more important reason than that, but I honestly don’t know what. I believe it will be tied in with his mysterious connection to the Phantomhive family, but as we don’t know about that either, its difficult to say.

Now this part;

has always confused me. What was Sebastian referring to? And the fact that Undertaker implied their strength is equal? He would have killed Sebastian back on the ship if it hadn’t picked that exact moment to sink. All very intriguing.

Then this whole double page spread;

which really only gives more questions than it answers.

But now! Onto the Green Witch Arc. The bit to focus on has to be the interaction between Diedrich and Undertaker, in which Undertaker makes one very important comment;

Humans. He specifically said humans, meaning Diedrich knew he was a reaper, so by extension so did Vincent and most likely Cloudia as well. I admit, I had forgotten that sentence, so this explains why Vincent trusted Undertaker with the twins (which I was going on about earlier). And I assume when he said this;

He was talking about bringing Vincent back. Even he couldn’t bring back someone without their body.

Three First Kisses

This all got inspired by the prompt 'How'd they be after their first kiss'. It's more of a tangent rather than strictly following the prompt, but I liked how it turned out! I hope you enjoy! Also on AO3!

Their first ever kiss had been decades ago now, not that either of them actually remembered it. They'd been in nursery, Toshiro barely four years old and Karin only seven months older. They had decided to play with toy cars but there were only two left in the box, besides the ones that either had tires missing or didn't roll very smoothly, and Karin figured those didn't count. She didn't really like the yellow one, but she gave Toshiro the blue one anyway as she knew it was his favourite colour. Toshiro had always been bright, and he quickly worked out that Karin had decided to put up with the car she didn't like so he could have the best one. Toshiro wasn't always very good with words, especially back then, so he grabbed the sides of her face and clumsily pushed his lips against hers instead. Karin had blinked at him for a moment before smiling and hugging him briefly before pulling him away from the toy box and towards the part of the floor that was best for rolling the cars around, and that was that.

Their second kiss, the first one they remember, is the one they both consider to be their actual first. Looking back, Karin supposes it had been building for a while. Toshiro's family moved when they were still in elementary school, not too far away, he didn't have to change schools thank goodness, but it meant he ended up in a different catchment area than her when it came to middle school. Going to different schools and living just a bit too far away to visit on her own had inevitably led to them drifting apart, eventually not hanging out at all. Karin always thought that was a shame, Toshiro had been her first friend, her best friend, but because of something as simple as location it fell apart.

She distinctly remembers the moment she saw him again, the first time in years. It was the second day of high school and she had gone to the lockers to grab something only to find him at his, a few metres away. She had called out his name immediately, mainly out of surprise and watched as he turned to face her, recognising her instantly. Karin was a little impressed he did to be honest, it had been ages since he last saw her and she had changed a lot. She'd become taller than him, her hair long, her face slowly losing baby fat. Toshiro had changed too of course, but with his white hair and bright blue eyes he was always much easier to spot. At the time Karin hoped they could just pick up where they left off but found that it wasn't really possible. They both wanted to be friends again, the effort was there, but it was awkward. Back in elementary school they always knew everything about each other because they had been friends since nursery, they spent practically all their time together as they were in the same class, it was pretty much impossible to hide anything from each other. But suddenly they had to learn about each other in a way they hadn't before. They had become firm friends again within the month but it felt different, like there was a barrier between them.

It had taken Karin a while, several months in fact, to figure out what that barrier was. Why talking to him felt different, why she didn't feel like she could be as tactile as she used to be. They had put the barrier up themselves, a self-defence mechanism, afraid to get too close to each other, because things were different. Karin found herself looking at Toshiro a little too long just as often as she turned to see him rapidly look away, clearly having been staring at her. Watched Toshiro turn down dating offers for flimsy reasons like being too busy to date despite having no problem going with Karin to watch new movies at the cinema, or going to the park with her. Just as she turned down boys for, well, not being Toshiro. It had been frustrating, dancing around each other for months, with Karin constantly flipping between being sure he liked her back to being sure they were just being friends and she was fabricating it all in her head. Both of them would push against the barrier between them, test it, but they always pulled back, scared to push all the way through. Until one day in June. It had been stiflingly hot, and Karin had been completely fed up of being cooped up in a warm school building all day, so the minute the bell rang for the end of the day she found Toshiro and dragged him to an ice cream shop nearby. It was too busy for them to sit inside, so Toshiro had pulled her towards the side of the building instead, away from all the pedestrians, the tall brick wall giving them a bit of shade.

Karin had been teasing him, about how he always got watermelon flavour without fail, while Karin had a tendency to try out different flavours, her favourite seemingly depending on the month. Toshiro had rolled his eyes, told her that she hadn't actually tried watermelon yet, and that she wasn't allowed to judge him until she did. He scooped some up with the little plastic spoon and held it out to her. She knew he was goading her, didn't actually expect her to go for it, but she thought it would be funnier if she did, staring him down as she guided the spoon in his hand towards her mouth. Watched as his eyes widened a little in surprise, and then go down to her lips, staring at them. Karin didn't know why that day was different, maybe the heat had gotten to her head or something, all she remembers thinking in that moment was 'fuck it'. She went for it, went crashing all the way through that barrier and kissed him. Her right hand still holding her ice cream cone, she slid her left hand round his neck, pulled him to her and pressed her lips against his, perhaps a little aggressively, but Toshiro didn't seem to care. His hand mirrored hers, gripping the back of her neck lightly and he kissed her back. It was a little awkward, with it being their first proper kiss and Karin pulled back after a moment to giggle at it all. Toshiro smiled back, blush on his cheeks before they both looked away. It had taken a couple of tries to start a conversation, both of them feeling pretty embarrassed and shy even though they were happy. Eventually through stilted words they had managed to agree out loud that they should start dating.

Karin hadn't really thought about their future back then. She was only sixteen years old, she was just happy to be dating the boy she liked, didn't really think about whether they'd last, where they'd be in ten years. She wondered if that's why things went so well, because they didn't really overthink it. Naturally they ran into problems, the main one being going to different universities, but they had been dating for two years by then, long distance sucked, but with their solid foundation they weren't about to split up just because of distance, not again thank you. They loved each other, it was easy to stick together. And sure, maybe they took longer to get married than other people expected, but it had simply been their natural path. Dating throughout high school and university, getting engaged the year after graduating at the age of twenty two. It was a little strange at the time, a voice in her head asking that 'wasn't she too young to get engaged?', but it was one of the easiest decisions she'd ever made. She and Toshiro had just been regularly separated for years to study, they both wanted something to definitively tie themselves to each other. Both of their families were ecstatic, wanted to start planning the wedding immediately, they didn't really understand that at the time they only wanted to be engaged. Betrothal felt right, marriage not quite yet. She was confident in the promise, but not in their situation just yet. They were still trying to settle into careers post-graduation, trying to get finances sorted, trying to find a place to live together before they went all the way to marriage. They didn't even think about wedding planning till another year later. Well not officially anyway. Both she and Toshiro had ideas ready before they started properly discussing, making it obvious that they had been thinking about it, to themselves.

Said wedding planning took a while, they were both busy, working full time, and they weren't really rushing to get married anyway. They took their time, writing out ideas, forming to-do lists and eventually settled on a wedding date fifteen months in advance. Their first idea was to get married in June, to get married on the anniversary of their first kiss. It was a sweet, romantic idea, but not really a practical one. Toshiro hated the heat, and while Karin tended to fair hot weather better, she didn't know if that would hold true while wearing a wedding dress. They ended up going for September instead, still warm and sunny, but not overly hot. The wedding planning went by in a stressful blur and suddenly she was here, on their wedding day, a bit over ten years later from when they started dating. Somehow out of everything the thing she was most nervous about was the kiss. The kiss they'd share after all the ceremony, after all the vows. Karin had no doubt about marrying Toshiro, had no doubt that the wedding would be lovely, both she and her soon-to-be-husband were pains in the asses about organisation, so she doubted anything major would go wrong. But she's never had to think about kissing him in front of all her friends and family before. It was a weird feeling. It was going to be their first kiss as a married couple, part of her felt like it should be private, just between them.

She tried her best to hold back her nerves as she walked down the aisle, as she stood up next to Toshiro, looking as beautiful as he ever did. She didn't want him to think she was nervous about marrying him, that part was fine. Fantastic even. It had been a long time coming. She let out a breath of relief as she noticed the little signs of nervousness on his face, feeling grounded next to him, knowing he felt a little nervous too. As expected, the whole ceremony went without a hitch, except for the vows where it took all of her strength to not cry as she spoke. She didn't want to cry now, she didn't cry often but when she did she could cry for ages, and she wasn't about to do that with dozens of people watching her. A couple of tears escaped as Toshiro read out his vows to her, the realisation finally hitting her. She was marrying Toshiro. She was marrying the absolute love of her life. And suddenly she didn't care that everyone was watching. Their minister finally, finally, proclaimed that they were officially married, and that Toshiro could kiss her. She didn't give him a chance. She threw her bouquet vaguely in the direction of her bridesmaids and grabbed him, desperate to kiss him, her husband. She didn't care about their audience, about how they looked, she was officially married to the person she loved more than anything, this was their first kiss as husband and wife, and she was going to kiss him properly thank you very much. She pulled an inch back from him when she ran out breath, grinning happily at him, unable to stop herself from kissing him again. She pulled back a second time, for good this time, laughing a little at the shy look on Toshiro's-, no, her husband's face. “You're stuck with me forever now.”

He held her hands and grinned back at her. “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

A Night in Shining Armor (White Rose Week #7)

Fandom: RWBY

Pairing: White Rose

Word Count: 8211

Rating: K+

Synopsis: Ruby, a runner on the track team, has to run in circles to understand why in the world Weiss wants to meet with her.

Prompt: The Princess and Her Knight

Links: No links. I don’t really like this one

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While she was still in middle school, Ruby had expected high school to be a crazy adventure. Hearing about it from her big sister Yang led her to believe that things would be so much different than they were then. There were going to be harder assignments, wilder parties, and students occasionally getting into fights in the hallways. Back then, she wasn't sure if she was more nervous or excited.  Once she made it to high school, she realized that choosing between those two emotions was foolhardy. Way too often, she felt both in equal amounts. 

However, that would all be in the near future. First she had to get through her freshman year, which was incredibly deceptive, considering what was soon to follow. Sure, the assignments were harder, but not by that much. It was probably because it was only the first year of her high school life, but it was still a noteworthy... note.

Still, her freshman year didn't give her that many problems. She got through her coursework with relative ease, though at least she had Yang to help her when things got too tough. Eventually she found herself drawn to a shop class, having always loved working with her hands. She even tried out for the track team, becoming a rare freshman on the Knights, which was the school's mascot. As it turned out, running away from her middle school bullies gave her a lot of strength in her legs.

So her first year passed without many problems. She even made a couple of friends, which was surprising for someone who had always been incredibly socially awkward. When her big sister was her only friend, it was obvious that there was a problem. The fact that she actually had people to hang out with that weren't just her sister and her dad made her feel super accomplished. Maybe Yang had just been blowing smoke up her butt with the whole craziness aspect of high school. Things were actually going pretty well for her! She hadn't even seen a single hallway fight. Oh, how naive she was...

Pretty much the moment her sophomore year started, all the craziness that Yang had told her to expect seemed to hit her at once. It just so happened that it wasn't anything close to what she had been told. There were no fights, secret drug deals, or impossible essays to tackle. Instead, she had to deal with something she never, never ever never expected: someone hitting on her. Even more shocking was the person who was hitting on her. Was she really supposed to believe that the Weiss Schnee was attracted to her?

How did she know who Weiss Schnee was? Well, who didn't, honestly? Her family only ran the biggest precious gemstone company - the Schnee Diamond Company - in the entire nation. The wedding band her dad wore was from one of their stores. All the big, richy rich people had their diamonds on their fingers, or in the ears, or on a necklace. It was a status symbol to wear something made by the SDC, though she personally had never cared about that. She wasn't much of a jewelry girl. Not that it was a bad thing. She could see the appeal, but it just wasn't for her. It didn't fit her style.

So yeah, she knew who Weiss was. She remembered Yang mentioning her a couple of times at home, though never in a flattering light. Apparently she was a prissy, bitchy princess who flaunted her wealth and looked down on everyone who wasn't as cool and rich as her. Ruby could admit that it colored her opinion on Weiss a bit. She knew it wasn't right to judge someone without getting to know them, but when would they ever talk to one another? They were separated by two grades and a huge amount of social status. How wrong she turned out to be...

It started after a track practice late in the fall. She had recently celebrated her sixteenth birthday and was feeling pretty good about herself. She'd been used to spending her birthdays with just her dad and sister, always slinking off into her room to stare at a picture of her mom and wish she could let her know that she was making her proud. This time, however, she had been too distracted to be contemplative and sad. Her new friends, Jaune and Nora, were a bundle of fun, and she had spent her entire birthday in stitches. She had to say that she had never had a better birthday in all her sixteen years. Not that she'd had a lot of birthdays, but still.

Anyway, she was getting off track. This was about Weiss. Okay, so she had finished up at track practice, and she was preparing to meet Yang in the parking lot to get a ride home. Their family wasn't well off enough to have cars for all three of them. Yang was lucky enough to get one of her own, even if it was old and a bit of a hunk-of-junk kinda deal. Doubly lucky, she often stayed after school for sports, so that allowed Ruby to hitch a ride with her rather than take the bus. As important as public transportation was, she didn't like the thought of being on one with lots of people all around her. Once was enough...

Wait, she was getting off track again. She couldn't help it: her mind was constantly bouncing from tangent to tangent, often growing into something well beyond the starting point. It was one of her weaknesses, admittedly. She had a lot of those, but anyway... So, the big thing was that she had a setting on her phone that let her accept random messages from people whose phone signals were near hers. She liked to let her friends drop funny memes onto her phone, but those were the only things she would ever get. So it came as a shock when she got something from a new sender.

'Meet me behind the willow tree in fifteen minutes.' The words were written very neatly in pen across the arm of a slender girl. After admiring how amazingly that was written on skin, then wondering who the heck had sent her it, she looked up to match eyes with none other than Weiss Schnee. They just stared at each other, confusion rampant all over Ruby's face. Then Weiss lifted up her arm, showing that something was written on it. Though the distance obscured them, Ruby knew exactly what it was. After that, Weiss walked away, ostensibly to head to the willow tree in question.

She watched Weiss walk away, staring after her like a dummy. The rest of the track team left the field, leaving her standing alone as if having been turned into a statue. She looked down at her phone, wondering if she was mistaken. Maybe that hadn't been Weiss, and some random girl had sent her a picture of her arm. Why would anyone send her something like that regardless, though? What did it mean? Well, there was only one way to find out...

First she had to text Yang and let her know that she was going to be staying longer, and that she should head home without her. Waiting for the bus was something she was already dreading, but she wasn't sure she wanted Yang to know what was going on. If she was actually going to meet Weiss, then she knew her sister wouldn't approve. There'd be enough idle chat about what a bitch Weiss was that her saying she was going to talk to her would start blaring the alarm bells.

To be fair, there were alarm bells going off in her head as well. All she knew about Weiss was what had been told to her by the people she was closest with. None of it was any good. That should have had her scampering to the safety of Yang's car, ignoring the strange, sudden advances of a girl she had never spoken to. Not only that, but Weiss was clearly leagues above her in every aspect. What would make her want to strike up a conversation with her? Again, no idea, but still one way to find out.

With everyone having left the premises, Ruby was left alone to head over to the willow tree. It was the only tree of its kind, standing sadly just outside of the track. While she walked towards it, she felt a bout of nerves taking over her body. What was going to happen? Were they actually going to have a conversation, or was she being pranked? What would they talk about anyway? Why couldn't Weiss have just written everything out on her arm?

She stopped right in front of the tree, taking a deep breath. Then she took another, which made her whole body shake. This felt like a bad idea. Maybe she was in a movie where she was walking right into a trap, and she was about to live out her final moments. What a way to go, honestly. She wasn't even wearing anything cool: just her red Knights track shirt and a pair of black shorts. This was the exact reason why the school should allow her to carry her pocket knife on her person.

"You know I can hear you breathing, right?" Ruby jumped, startled by the sound of Weiss talking from behind the tree. "Are you going to come over here or what?" Feeling mighty sheepish, Ruby scurried around the tree to come face to face with Weiss. Throwing everything she had been told about her to the side, she had to admit that Weiss looked very nice. Her stark-white hair was tied up in a ponytail, looking so pure and clean. She must take a lot better care of her hair than Ruby did. Maybe she and Yang would have something to talk about.

"Sorry, uh..." She dug the toe of her boot into the grass, feeling and looking the part of the awkward sophomore she was. Weiss put a hand on her hip, standing there in an outfit as white as her hair. She was wearing a dress that fluffed out just above her ankles, trimmed with a pretty light blue lace around the hem. Though her arms would always be uncovered in that situation, they were currently covered by the jacket that she was wearing. It honestly floored her how stunning Weiss looked. She was absolutely gorgeous: like the prettiest porcelain doll that would break if she touched it too hard. "Hi?"

"Is that all you have to say? 'Hi'?" The lack of a response seemed to annoy Weiss, who put both her hands on her hips and stared Ruby down. It made her feel small, which was funny, considering the two of them were practically the same height despite the heels Weiss had on. "I invited you over here to speak to you, and all you have to say is hi? I expected better from you."

"I, uh, don't know what you expected from me." Ruby laughed awkward, tapping her toes up and down in her boots. She felt like she was being interrogated, and that just made her nerves jump up to eleven. "I'm sorry, though? Uhm..." She bit down on her lip, thinking of what she was supposed to do. Then she stuck out her hand, trying to put on a smile. "Hey there, I'm Ruby Rose. It's nice to actually meet you." Was it, though? She wasn't sure yet, but it seemed like the polite thing to say.

"I know who you are. I've been watching you at practice." A light blush appeared on Weiss's face, which threw Ruby for a loop. Then she was completely composed again, as if she hadn't felt a moment of embarrassment. "I also know that you know who I am. Everyone does." There was another change in her demeanor when she said that. If Ruby didn't know any better, she would have sworn she saw a touch of sadness in Weiss's eyes. Then it was gone, leaving her wondering if she had just imagined it.

"Uh, yeah, that's... that's true." She looked down to see her fingers flexing around, and quickly shoved them in her pockets. This was exactly why it had been so hard for her to make friends for so long. She was awkward as all hell, and the other kids would rather find friends that weren't so weird. "Why did you want to talk to me? I, uh... I didn't know you were watching our practices." She could see the words still written on Weiss's arm.

"I came to watch a friend," Weiss admitted, moving her arms up to cross them beneath her chest. "You run pretty well yourself, though. Some of the others could learn from you." Her eyes widened at the compliment. Was Weiss actually praising her for something? Her voice was so judgmental, yet she could somehow just feel that she was being legitimate. She supposed she ought to thank her for the compliment.

"Thank you, Weiss. I, uh, guess running away from bullies was good for something." As soon as the words left her lips, she knew she had said too much. Actually, she'd figured that while saying it, but it was too late to stop herself from continuing to speak. She immediately shut up, her face lighting up as she wondered how easy time travel would be to accomplish in that situation -- just to go back a few seconds and say something that wasn't that.

"I see." Normally, that sort of dismissive answer would send Ruby's heart right down into her shoes. However, there was something about Weiss's eyes that caught her attention. Not that it was hard for that to happen, since her eyes were so blue and so captivating. Besides that, though, she felt that there was a sort of familiarity there as well. Like Weiss knew exactly what she was talking about. "Well, I'm sorry that happened to you."

"It's okay." The longer their conversation went on, the more awkward she felt. It wasn't that she was hating speaking to Weiss. This wasn't as bad as Yang had made it out to be. However, everything felt so stiff that she could feel the silences drilling into her body. It made her want to keep speaking to break the tension, but continuing to talk just made it worse. She was in a lose-lose situation. "So, uh, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"I saw you running on the track and I thought you looked cute." Well, out of everything that happened so far, that was the one that came from the furthest section of left field. Ruby sputtered, eyes wide as saucers as she stared at Weiss in shock. Had she really said that?! "Don't like so surprised. I'm sure you've been told that you look cute before." Ruby didn't want to answer that, instead ducking her head and looking very awkward. "Ah, well, then consider me the first to say it."

"Why, though?" She wasn't sure it was right to ask why Weiss was calling her cute, but she couldn't stop herself. It was something she just had to know. "Why are you talking to me? Why are you calling me cute? I mean, you're one of the coolest girls in school, and I'm just..." She shrugged, pointing at herself. "... me, you know?"

"First off, I'm the coolest girl in school." That gave Ruby so much whiplash she almost laughed out loud. Luckily, she held that back. "Secondly, I'm allowed to talk with whoever I want. If I want to speak with you, then I will." She put a hand on Ruby's shoulder, looking deep into her eyes. "Hopefully we can have more conversations together. You should be less awkward about them in the future, though."

"I'll try?" Was that supposed to sound as condescending as it did? That was more like the Weiss she had heard about. "Uh, I guess we can." She felt weird being noncommittal towards having conversations with someone. There weren't enough friends in her contacts to be picky, and this was someone who was super cool and super pretty. Who wouldn't want to be her friend? There was just something about the whole scenario that made her feel uneasy. "Hey, uh, I should probably get going. I have to catch the bus."

"There's no need for that. I can drive you home." Weiss waved Ruby off, looking so elegant while doing it. "Besides, public transportation is so dirty. You should just get a car." Ruby wanted to say that she couldn't afford to have a car, and that she also didn't even have a driver's license, but she decided it was best to keep her mouth shut. "Will you take me up on my offer?"

"Uh, well..." She was of two minds there. On one hand, she was feeling a bit odd with how Weiss was speaking to her. It was complimentary, but there were certain things that rubbed her the wrong way. She was also super confused about why this was happening in the first place. It was like a fever dream more than anything. On the other hand, she really didn't want to take the bus, and she also didn't believe that Weiss would do anything to harm her. Plus, she was pretty... "Sure, if... if you don't mind."

"If I minded, I wouldn't have suggested it. Now come on, let's go." Without another word, Weiss left the shelter of the tree and headed for the parking lot. For a moment, Ruby just stood there, watching Weiss and struggling to decide what she should do. This was turning out to be the weirdest afternoon of her life, and she truly wasn't sure how to proceed. Finally, with a shake of her head, she ran after Weiss.

Weiss had a very nice car. Considering how rich she was, it shouldn't have been surprising, but it still made her jaw drop. It was the kind of car she'd expect to see in some movie as a promotional deal, not in the hands of a high schooler. Of course, Weiss wasn't any normal high schooler. It was also spotless, which made her wonder how often Weiss got it cleaned.

"Are you going to stand out there and admire my car all day?" Snapping out of her daze, she found the passenger side window down, with Weiss looking at her with a slightly amused expression. When had she even gotten in the car? Blushing slightly, she hurriedly opened the door and got inside. Once she shut the door and put on her seatbelt, Weiss drove them out of the parking lot.

"So, uh... who's your friend on the track team?" Ruby was terrible at small talk. That was Yang's strong suit. If she wasn't having a conversation where the parties were getting directly to the point, she struggled greatly at coming up with something to say. It had been that way for her entire life. That was probably why she had no friends for so long. Well, that and the fact that she couldn't stay still for more than a few seconds.

"Pyrrha Nikos. I'm sure you're aware of who she is as well." No duh! Pyrrha was only the biggest athlete in the entire school. She had always thought Yang was the best athlete in the world, but then she met Pyrrha and saw what she could do. Every sport she was involved in, she succeeded. Her skills seemed to transcend the realm of even the best athletes, and she would run circles around them in every sense of the phrase. She had made sure to never mention this to Yang, lest her feelings get hurt.

"Of course! She's only the best runner on the team. I hope I can be half as good at her at some point." She was fast, but Pyrrha made her look like a snail. Her legs were so long, and she took the longest, most incredible strides. When it came to short sprints, Pyrrha beat her no matter how fast she went. Longer runs were no contest, as she seemed to have stamina for days. She knew how to pace herself, and those that passed her ended up in the dust every time. No exceptions.

"She's quite the athlete," Weiss agreed, turning the radio on to some classical station. It wasn't Ruby's cup of tea, but she wasn't going to say anything. After all, it wasn't her car, so she didn't get to choose the music unless granted permission. "I've known her for years, and she's always been that athletic. She's already getting scholarship offers from plenty of colleges. I just hope she takes my advice and takes one from the school with the highest education levels. Athletics only last you so long."

"I suppose." She had heard that before, and it was always from non-athletes. Of course, she didn't consider herself an athlete, despite her own talents. She actually didn't know what to call herself. Sometimes it felt like she was a bit of everything, yet not enough of it to truly be anything. Having a moment of self-doubt in Weiss's passenger seat wasn't what she had expected to happen that day. "She's really good, though." That was all she knew to say. She wasn't sure where else to take the conversation, and she just prayed for it to end.

"Mm..." Weiss didn't seem to know where to take the conversation either, which was a relief. She didn't have to feel bad about falling silent, but that didn't stop her from still feeling awkward. It seemed like she should fill in the silence with conversation, but what was she supposed to say? Again, this wasn't her strong suit. Maybe if Weiss wanted to ask her about track, or how to disassemble and reassemble a pistol, she could regale her with those tales. That didn't seem like something a pretty princess like Weiss would be interested in, though.

When they stopped at a stoplight, Ruby noticed Weiss looking at her. It felt like she was sizing her up, her eyes wandering up and down her body. She felt a shudder go through her body, wondering what exactly Weiss was doing. Why was she looking at her like that? It felt predator: lustful, even. No, wait, no, that was weird. There was no way Weiss was looking at her like that! She shouldn't be thinking such things.

It didn't leave her mind, though. Even when they continued to drive, the silence just let her think about how Weiss had looked at her. She didn't have any experience in those kinds of things. Sex ed classes had taught her enough, and whatever romance scenes that showed up in Yang's action movies filled in the blanks. So she was inexperienced, but not oblivious. Still, she wanted to believe that inexperience would make her believe that Weiss wasn't looking at her like a piece of meat. They didn't even know each other!

The rest of the way, she kept glancing at Weiss, trying to see if she was randomly staring at her. Several times, she did catch Weiss staring, and it always caught her off guard. She never saw Weiss act embarrassed about it, though. There was no dusting of pink on her cheeks, or stammered words to try and fill the air with conversation. Maybe she was the only one who was nervous, or maybe she was just making it all up. Weiss might just be looking at her, wondering why she had let such a weirdo into her car, and she was just narcissistic thinking about someone as hot as Weiss looking at her like that.

There were no more words passed between them until they got to Ruby's house. All there was to listen to was the radio and the accented voice of the GPS as it led Weiss in the right direction. Ruby felt a surge of relief when she saw her house coming into view. Maybe if she went to bed early, she would wake up and everything would be back to normal. She would be in her normal life, with her normal social circle, and it would all be okay. Shows what she knew.

Weiss stopped the car in front of Ruby's house, putting it in park. She didn't unlock the doors, though. Ruby could have obviously unlocked them herself, but something about Weiss's lack of effort kept her there. Weiss was looking at her funny again. It was the same look that she'd seen at the light. That look in her eyes... If she had started licking her lips, it would've just been overkill.

Suddenly, Weiss had her seatbelt unbuckled and she was upon her. Her eyes widened as Weiss's lips pressed against hers, her hands going straight for her wrists. She felt frozen in place, unable to move, unable to reciprocate or reject. It was as if she was having an out of body experience, watching her stupid, frozen self get kissed out of nowhere by the prettiest, richest girl in the entire school. This couldn't be her life. It had to be someone else who just so happened to look like her. Maybe it was her secret twin, Sapphire Tulip.

"Are you going to sit there like a dolt or kiss me back?" Weiss moved away from her lips, just enough to admonish her for her inactivity. That didn't give her a lot of time to make a proper decision: none, in fact. So she just nodded, unsure of what to say. There was a slight smile on Weiss's face as she leaned back in to kiss her, and this time Ruby kissed her back.

Weiss's lips tasted minty fresh, like she had just chewed some gum just for that moment. Maybe she had, and Ruby just hadn't noticed. Her lips were cool as well, a nice compliment to any hot day. Of course, that didn't stop her own body from feeling like it was on fire. Her first kiss had her burning up inside, especially because of who it was. Weiss, the Weiss, was kissing her. She had initiated the kiss, and what else was she supposed to do but kiss her back? Life was all flipped, turned upside down, and all she could do was let gravity do its thing.

In the midst of their kissing, Weiss slipped a hand beneath her shirt and started fondling her toned stomach. That immediately freaked Ruby out, enough to where she stopped reciprocating Weiss's kiss. However, Weiss continued to kiss her, pressing their lips together furiously until she was drawn back into the magic of Weiss's minty breath. She couldn't stop herself from letting out a little whimper as Weiss's slender fingers danced up and down her stomach. Was this happening? Were they going to do... you know, it? Right there in the car?!

"You're not a bad kisser. Was that your first time?" Weiss pulled away from Ruby's lips, looking in her eyes with an unwavering stare. Her hand stayed under Ruby's shirt, stroking circles around her stomach. It made Ruby feel uncomfortable, yet gave her a strange thrill that she wasn't sure how to explain. She wanted to tell Weiss that she didn't understand what was happening, but on the inside she wanted Weiss to leave her hand there as long as she wanted. Since she was having trouble speaking, her internal desires won out.

"Mhm," she replied meekly, looking down at the bulge in her shirt. If Weiss's hand went up any higher, then she'd be able to feel her heart pounding in her chest. Of course, she'd be feeling more than that, and Ruby was sure that she couldn't survive that. Weiss removed her hand after that, allowing Ruby to sit there in a daze. She reached down to where the cigarette lighter was in her dad's car, but instead there was a thin tube of lipstick. Flipping down her visor, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and started reapplying her lipstick, which had been slightly smeared during their impromptu makeout session.

"Impressive. Perhaps I underestimated you." Giving her lips a little 'pop', she glanced over at her frozen passenger. "If you want to stay in my car all day, I must warn you that I'll be driving back home. I may not be so kind as to come back here to drop you off." That got Ruby in motion. She fumbled with her seatbelt, struggling to get it off of her. Weiss's dainty laugh only made it harder.

"Uh, I'll uh, I'll see you... later?" All of the saliva in her mouth had made a tactical retreat. Without waiting for a response from Weiss, she grabbed her workout bag and hauled ass out of the car. She slammed the door and ran up the walkway to her house, not looking back once. There hadn't been an exchange of numbers, or a plan made to meet somewhere at a specific time. 'See you later', she had said, as she ran like a frightened deer. It didn't even settle in until she had made it inside, slamming and locking the door behind her.

"Oh no, oh goodness, oh gosh, what was that?! What did I do?!" Now that she was alone, a wave of panic washed over her. She had kissed Weiss! Well, Weiss had kissed her, but she had kissed back eventually. She had given her first kiss away to the most popular girl in school: a girl that she had never spoken a single word to until that evening. They were anything but compatible, if she was being honest, yet that had clearly been Weiss's hand snaking up her shirt twenty minutes after they'd met each other. How was she supposed to explain any of that?

She needed to suss this one out. If she was going to understand anything about what had happened, she needed to talk it out. However, her closest confidant was Yang, and that was a non-starter. As much as she trusted her sister, she knew that Yang didn't have great feelings towards Weiss. She could only imagine the rage that would start brewing if Yang heard that Weiss of all people had been feeling up her little sister. There were only so many times Yang could get away with walloping someone before she got expelled.

Sneaking into her room to avoid drawing Yang's attention, she shut the door and immediately dialed Nora's number. Out of her limited friend circle, Nora seemed the most likely to be able to help her. She was relatively non-judgmental, and she'd basically been in a relationship since before any of them knew what relationships were. If anyone could help her, it was Nora.

"Ruby Ruby, how's them boobies?!" Nora screeched into the speaker, but Ruby already knew her friend well enough to keep her phone at arm's length. She tossed her bag across the room, rolling her eyes at Nora's little greeting before flopping down on her bed.

"Nora, please never say that again." She groaned into her sheets, flopping up until she was face-first on her pillow. Then she rolled over onto her side so she could talk to Nora without being completely muffled. "Hey, I'm dealing with something, and I was hoping you could help me with it."

"Ooh, sounds like some juicy gossip! Give it to me straight, Doc! Or give it to me gay. I know how you are." Sometimes, Ruby liked to count how many times Nora made her roll her eyes. The two times she'd done it so far was on the lighter side. Somehow, this was the girl whom she felt most comfortable speaking to about this kinda stuff. Will wonders never cease?

"Okay, so I was at track practice today, and I got this strange picture dropped onto my scroll, telling me to meet that person behind the big willow tree. It was Weiss Schnee! I saw her at the practice and everything! Apparently she goes there to watch Pyrrha, but she... took an interest in me, I guess?" It felt weird saying that -- almost narcissistic, even though it was true. "I guess she wanted to hang out with me, though she was a bit rude and all. Then she drove me home, but when we got to my house, she put her hand under my shirt and kissed me!"

"WHAAAAAT?!?!?!" This time, Ruby didn't expect the scream, feeling a ringing in her ears as she dropped her phone. "YOU KISSED WEISS SCHNEE?!" Nora was so loud that Ruby was terrified Yang would hear her from behind the door. Hurriedly, she shoved both the phone and her head under her pillow, trying to muffle the sounds.

"Shut up, Nora! Yang's going to hear you!" Maybe this hadn't been a good idea. No, scratch that: it wasn't a good idea. It hadn't been from the start. However, she absolutely had to voice out loud what had happened and what she was feeling, and Nora was the only person close to her that she could do that with. "Look, Weiss kissed me, okay? I just... happened to eventually kissed her back."

"Oh ho ho, well well well, my my my..." Ruby was about to tell her to shut up again before she finally got to the point. "You made out with the richest, most popular - and most hated-  girl in the entire school! Way to go, Ruby! When's the wedding?"

"Again, Nora, shut up." Groaning loudly, Ruby pulled the pillow down hard over her head. Why was this happening to her? "What do I do, Nora? She wants to hang out again, but I don't get why. She's super popular and so pretty, and I'm just... me. I'm the weird shop kid who just happens to run pretty fast. We've never even spoken before this. Why would she want to have anything to do with me?"

"I 'unno. You're cute, so maybe she finally recognizes that you deserve to be kissed all over every second of the day." That made Ruby blush, and she was glad no one was there to see. "Look, I know why you called me, but I don't know Weiss. I can give you relationship advice, but I dunno why Weiss came onto you like that. All I can tell you is that if you want to get with her, then get with her. If you don't, then you don't, but you gotta tell her one way or the other."

"Ugh, I know, but... Ughhh!" The last thing she wanted to do was admit how she really felt. That would be awkward. For the first time in her life, she was actually being hit on, and she was acting like a confused teenager with no romantic experience. Just because she was that didn't mean she had to act like one. "She's gonna laugh at me..."

"So what? If she laughs at you for being honest, then she's a jerk for doing that, and a jerk for coming onto you like. If you feel uncomfortable with what she's doing, then tell her. I know how awkward it is for you to say those kinda things, but if you don't, then it's not gonna get better. You'll reach a point where you're trapped in whatever kind of relationship she wants to be in with you, and you'll never be able to get yourself out of it." She was always caught off guard when Nora's talks turned serious. Most things were excitement and jokes with her, but on those rare occasions, she could really lay the truth out there: no bullshit.

"I suppose you're right..." She sighed deeply, wishing she could just curl up under the covers and pretend everything was back to normal. Even if being the weird twitchy kid at school was her normal, it was at least something she was used to. "Thanks, Nora. I'll bring it up next time we hang out. Hell, maybe she won't even want to hang out with me. Maybe she'll realize that I'm a complete weirdo and she's making the biggest mistake of her life."

"That's the spirit. Now, don't think on it too much, alright? Even though I know you will." Nora knew her too well. She could only laugh at that, knowing she would be spending all night thinking about what had happened and worrying about what would happen next time. It was just how predictable she was. "Hey, I'm sorry, but I gotta hang up now. I'm at the store 'cause Ren's too shy to buy you-know-whats." Ruby blushed, knowing exactly what Nora was referring to. "I'll talk to you later, though, alright? Hit me up with what goes on. I gotta get some good romance gossip. There's just nothing happening lately, you know?"

"I'm glad I can help you there, Nora." Rolling her eyes for the third and perhaps final time, Ruby said goodbye and hung up. Then she tried her best to melt into her bed, sighing deeply. While Nora had helped, it only helped so much. She wasn't sure how she truly felt about what had happened. Had it been good? Well, yeah, duh! That was the best first kiss she could have ever asked for. Weiss's lips tasted so deliciously minty, and she seemed to know exactly what she was doing. The cool touch of her hand against her stomach was a nice touch, too. Objectively, she really liked what had happened.

On the other hand, thinking about it made her feel like she was near a panic attack. She had no idea why Weiss decided to talk to her, much less kiss her. It didn't seem like something she'd ever understand unless she went up and asked Weiss. That in itself was terrifying, though. If Weiss never talked to her again, then she could at least avoid that conversation, even if she'd always wonder why. If Weiss did come up to her again, though, then she would have to ask what was going on. She wasn't looking forward to that.

Swallowing her worries, she changed out of her gym clothes and went into the kitchen to see if dinner was getting started. Hopefully her worries wouldn't show on her face. If she wasn't looking forward to having a discussion with Weiss, she definitely wasn't looking forward to having to talk about Weiss with Yang. This was a dangerous game she had accidentally started playing. ------------------------------------------

For the next couple of days, Ruby had no contact with Weiss. She didn't so much as see her in the hallways. At her track practices, she kept looking at the stands to see if Weiss was there, but she never was. She wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing. No matter what it was, it was distracting. Her mind struggled to focus on what she was supposed to be doing when all she could think about was if or when Weiss would next speak to her. It was frustrating, and it was honestly her fault.

At her third practice since she'd first spoken to Weiss, she got another photo dropped onto her scroll. It was the exact same picture as last time, and she looked up to again see Weiss standing by the bleachers. After locking eyes for a few seconds, Weiss headed towards the same tree, leaving Ruby to watch her go with intense worry. So, this was happening again, huh? It made her wish Nora was there to guide her, but also that would be a terrible idea. She was gonna have to deal with it alone.

With incredible trepidation, she headed towards the willow tree, repeatedly wiping the sweat off her hands against her shirt. She peered around the tree, seeing Weiss standing there and staring at her with a quirked eyebrow. Smiling sheepishly, she came over to stand in front of Weiss, gulping. "H-Hey Weiss, what's going on?" She wasn't sure what was about to happen this time, and that did nothing to stop her nerves from taking over her body.

"I figured it was time we saw each other again," Weiss replied simply, stepping towards Ruby. Before she knew what was happening, she had been pushed against the tree and Weiss's lips were upon hers. Just like last time, she stood there dumbly without doing anything. However, her stupid body kicked in and she started to kiss back. That went on for a bit, the two of them swapping spit like they'd known each other for years, until finally Ruby shyly spoke up.

"Weiss, wait..." Her words were broken up between kisses, which she struggled to stop. "I don't... understand..." Weiss did stop, though it was only to laugh, which confused Ruby further. Had she said something funny?

"If you don't understand what kissing is, then you're beyond help."

"Wait, no, I know what kissing is!" A blush crossed her face as she huffed, her back pressed flush against the tree. Weiss had a hand on her hip, and the other on her shoulder, keeping her pinned in front of her. It was a compromising position to be sure. "I don't know why you're kissing me, though!" Sighing deeply, she started sinking into herself, losing height to her upperclassman. "I don't understand what's going on..."

"Ah." Suddenly, Weiss let her go, stepping back and giving her some breathing room. She was surprised to see Weiss looking actually concerned, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger as her gaze wouldn't meet hers. Though she kept expecting Weiss to answer her question, she stayed concerningly silent. She kept twirling her hair, furrowing her eyebrows as if trying to come up with a proper answer.

"Uhm, Weiss? Are you okay?" She kept waiting for something to be said, but Weiss continued to be silent. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She placed a hand on Weiss's shoulder, which seemed to snap her out of it. "Sorry, I, uh... You don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable. I was just curious, is all." Of course, she was more than curious. She might just lose it if she didn't figure out why this was happening, but she suddenly felt like her question had been too much. It didn't seem like much, but in her weird little mind, it was.

"No, it's fine. I should explain, I suppose." With a heavy sigh, she crossed her arms and looked away from Ruby. "As I told you, I came to track practice at the behest of Pyrrha. When I saw you, however, I couldn't take my eyes off of you. Not only were you fast, but you were cute when you finally stopped being such a blur on the track. It was hard to watch Pyrrha when you were running alongside her."

"You thought I was cute?" Ruby blushed, unable to stop herself from fidgeting in place. That was not the answer she had expected, and it made her lose all ability to keep herself in place. She had a lot of issues keeping still, and it took a lot of focus to make sure she didn't do much twitching. Having been caught so off guard, however, she found herself unable to focus, and she was practically vibrating where she stood.

"That's what I said, didn't I?" Weiss's tone was a bit snippy, but she immediately dialed it back. "I mean, yes, I did. I wanted to talk to you after that, but I knew that our different social statuses would make things difficult. So I drew your attention to a place where we would hopefully not be disturbed. That way, we could speak without anybody eavesdropping on us."

"I see..." 'Just talking' was an interesting way of describing the two of them making out in Weiss's car. They had been using their lips for sure, but not in the way Weiss was trying to say. "Okay, then why did you kiss me out of the blue? I didn't even know you had that much feeling towards me?"

"About that..." Weiss actually seemed flustered, again unable to look Ruby in the eyes. "I may have been too eager to start kissing you. Truthfully, I have never been in a relationship myself. I thought that if I kissed you, you would want to be with me more." She didn't seem to be able to stop playing with her hair: a sentiment that Ruby felt just as much.  "Of course you would want to be with me, though. Everybody does. I'm kind of a big deal here." There was something about her tone that didn't seem as confident as her words tried to be.

"I've heard that." It occurred to her in that moment that both of them were being very awkward. She was the most obvious, but she could tell that Weiss wasn't exactly comfortable in their current situation. Though she tried to hide it, Weiss's admittance that she'd never been in a relationship shown through. It was enough to make Ruby start to giggle.

"And what exactly is so funny?" Weiss whirled around to face her, placing her hands on her hips and staring Ruby down. It wasn't enough to stop her from giggling, though.

"Nothing, nothing! I just didn't expect us both to be so awkward." Weiss's eyes only narrowed upon hearing Ruby call her awkward. "N-Not that you're awkward! That's not what I meant!" It was what she meant, but she didn't want to make things worse for herself than she already was. "Look, uh, I really like the kissing. It's nice, and your lips taste like mint. It just really surprised me. I hadn't even talked to you before."

"I suppose that would make the kiss fast, then." She seemed to lose herself in thought for a moment, frowning deeply. "Was it too fast?" Ruby could only awkwardly nod, hoping that it wouldn't make Weiss glare at her again. "Well then, I suppose that I... I ought to apologize." She didn't look like she wanted to apologize, so she just left it as she supposed she should, hoping that would make an appropriate substitute. "Didn't it make you want to talk to me, though?"

"Well, it was kinda hard to talk when we were kissing so much." It was suppose to be a joke, but she ended up the only one laughing. If she was any more awkward, she was going to call Nora and ask for a shovel so she could dig her way as far into the earth as she possibly could. "I don't understand, though. Why would you kissing me make me want to talk to you?"

"I mean... It didn't hurt, right?" Weiss sighed deeply, slumping her shoulders. "I thought that if I gave you something that you like, you would feel better about talking to me. Enough people have tried to get me to kiss them that I figured you would want it as well."

"It's not that it's bad. I mean, it was good. Really good!" She sounded like she was trying to convince Weiss that she was a good kisser, but she was sure that Weiss already knew that. It was time to switch it up before she needed to find a way to live in the tree they were hiding behind. "Uh, but I'm sure you already know that. The truth is, if you wanted to talk to me, you could've just told me you wanted to. That would've been less confusing, no offense."

"I might take offense to that," Weiss mused, shrugging her shoulders. "Do you want to talk while I drive you home, then? We don't have to kiss this time." With the bit of awkwardness on Weiss's, it really did seem like she was being legitimate. Ruby didn't have the heart to say no. Not that she exactly would say no, though. Was it really so bad to agree to conversations - and sometimes kissing - with a super popular, super pretty princess?

"Maybe this time we just talk? If it goes well, then we could... well, you know..." She rubbed the back of her neck, laughing awkwardly. "We could kiss again?" She wondered if things were going too fast. Putting the brakes on their train didn't change the fact about what had happened. Was she even prepared for something like this: a potential friendship that already had seeds for something potentially more? 

"I'll try to hold back, then." All of those worries felt inconsequential when she saw Weiss smile. It was a warm, genuine smile: one that she had never heard anyone talk about when referring to the school's resident princess. In that moment, she felt completely smitten, and another ride home with Weiss didn't sound so bad. Maybe an actual conversation would show they had more in common than she expected, and then... well, maybe she would feel those sparks that Weiss seemed to be feeling.

So that was the start of how the school's resident princess and the track running Knight truly started their relationship together.

director’s commentary

Dammit, tumblr, why much you make everything difficult.

Anonymous: Director’s commentary: Chapter four of Echoes in the Void, the conversation after they have to leave the Metaverse?

Oooooh, yes. This. Actually I think I’ll include a little earlier, too…

To recap, Goro started second term at Jikken, where the “evaluation period” was over and things were getting nasty/weird. The second day they held him after school and made him run laps after he reflexively tried to headbutt someone who got in his face; the third day they wanted to know why he wasn’t showing interest in any girls, and he made a cutting remark about their interest in the sexuality of fifteen-year-olds being creepy, and they made him run laps with no shoes, resulting in badly abraded feet.

This probably explained the bastinado rumors, anyway. Those had been rather implausible.

Goro wondered, distantly, whether it was a second offense thing, or they actually found mouthing off more of a problem than attempted head-butts. That seemed like the sort of thing they really ought to explain.

The punishments Jikken is dealing out are completely unreasonable, but their prioritizing of offenses actually isn’t completely illogical. The attempted headbutt was because his instincts felt physically threatened and there was no choice or thinking about it involved. He knew it was a bad idea to make a nasty remark and did anyway. Therefore the second is a worse offense. And they definitely should have explained this.

Afterwards the school nurse was standing by to carefully clean the scrapes and apply antibiotics and bandages and lecture him about taking proper care of the injury.

Idk how many of my Start Again readers read my ‘Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind’ Homestuck fic? Jikken wants to be the goblins. They have all the bad ideas of the goblins about Fixing People, but they’re bad at it.

He couldn’t say what he thought about that. He must not say what he thought about that. Lashing out would make things even worse. Just smile. Just thank her. Just smile.

He was dissociating at least a little to deal with the pain, but having to act grateful about it is what pushed him over the edge into a prolonged episode. He’s done this before – locked himself away behind what is supposed to be Pleasant Goro, but… isn’t, exactly.

Afterwards he wasn’t hungry, so he skipped dinner. No one at the group home asked why he was limping. (Was he even limping? Both feet were equally injured, it wasn’t like he wanted to favor one of them.) His roommates noticed the bandages when he took off his slippers before bed.

“Fuck, look at pretty boy’s feet.”

“What the hell happened?”

“Ask him.”

“You ask him, he’s doing the psycho smile again.”

Goro tries to keep up Pleasant Goro appearances with the group home supervisors, but is really inconsistent about it with his roommates. They therefore both scorn him for being a pretty-boy suck-up and are kinda afraid of him for being vicious if you cross him. They generally don’t mess with him when there’s any chance he’d catch them at it.

(He dreamed blurrily of smiling, smiling as blood ran down the face of the first person he’d felt a connection to since—)

Canon!Akechi wasn’t dissociating the entire time, or for every murder, but that was how he dealt with Shido, and that was how he dealt with killing the closest thing he had to a friend.

The smile stayed in place the whole next day of school, too, through his math teacher accusing him of not paying attention and grilling him on properties of cotangents. It even stayed in place through the nurse checking on his feet and reprimanding him for not changing the bandages himself. But besides that mild scolding he wasn’t in trouble today, so he didn’t have to stay after. Good.

I wrote this and I’m still kind of shocked by the gall they have to scold him about not changing the bandages.

When he met Noir and Niijima — Noir and Queen, she was Queen in the Metaverse — outside the laboratory, Noir put a hand on Queen’s shoulder. “Crow?”

“Yes?”

“Are you… all right?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Haru is seeing a lot more of Future Akechi than she ever has before and is on high alert.

It was good to get back to work. Good to solve a puzzle lock with perfectly well-remembered properties of cotangents. When there turned out to be a Battle Fiend waiting behind the door, good to tear its fucking face off—

“What in—”

“Crow! Stand down!”

—with his bare hands it could just die make something else bleed—

The Shadow melted away into nothing, and he slammed a fist on the floor. And again. And again. And again, because at least he could feel it his face was about going numb—

From an outside perspective Goro just went from creepy plastic smile to berserker rage with zero warning. Haru isn’t as shocked as she might be because she knew the creepy plastic smile wasn’t good and she knew what Akechi was capable of, but she still wasn’t expecting attacking a Shadow with his bare hands.

“Amrita drop!”

Goro jolted. Stilled.

Probably Makoto suggested the Amrita drop, because it sure looks like a status effect, and Haru thought it was worth a try. Why did it work, when it wasn’t actually caused by a spell? Maybe because it basically was a status effect? Who knows, cognition is weird.

His hand hurt. His feet hurt. His face hurt. His mask was completely blocking his peripheral vision.

The more isolated and closed-off he is, the more his mask looks like a helmet.

“Did that work?” Queen asked anxiously, somewhere behind him. “If it wasn’t a spell that caused it—”

“I don’t know, I’ve never— Now he’s hyperventilating.”

“No I’m not,” Goro said, or at least tried to. It came out garbled and wheezy.

“I’m going to—”

“Yes, good idea.”

The hallway blurred around him, and then they were outside the Palace. Goho-M.

“Crow?” Noir said. “We’re going back to the real world, and then we’re going to want to move fairly quickly. Is it safe for Queen to take your arm?”

Okay, this is back to the volatile but human Goro who Haru has  known since coming back in time, and in clear distress. She still wants  to know what the fuck just happened, but she knows who she’s dealing with, now. …And she knows that who she’s dealing with is someone you don’t touch without warning if you can avoid it.

Goro tried to get his breathing under control. “Just. Just a. Minute.” Sit on the ground. Knees up. Head between his knees. Breathe. “Just a minute.”

They gave him the minute.

How novel.

Not sure this needs to be commentary since it’s basically text, but he is not used to people listening to him about his mental/emotional needs.

“All right,” Goro said finally. “Just — slowly.”

Queen did indeed move slowly enough that it didn’t set off any panic responses, and carefully helped him to his feet. “Where are we going to go to talk about this?” she hissed, presumably at Noir. “Should we have gone to a safe room instead?”

“No, I don’t think being in the Metaverse is doing him any good right now,” Noir replied. “I’ve noticed a park about two blocks south — there’s a picnic shelter which shouldn’t be visible from the street. We can talk there.”

Oh joy.

Maybe he could run away instead.

He probably wouldn’t have run away even if he could have, he’s too invested in this group by now, and he trusts them more than anyone else, but he would’ve been tempted. He really doesn’t want to talk about this.

It turned out he could not, in fact, run away, as the second they returned to the real world the distant throbbing in his feet turned to raw agony, and his knees buckled for a second. Niijima had to support him. She didn’t, mercifully, offer to try to carry him.

“Is there something wrong with his—?”

“I guess so, come on, we’ll ask about that, too—”

Goro stared at the sidewalk as they walked and tried not to wonder what they wanted to talk about, exactly. Instead he wondered if it was sweat or blood making the bandages feel damp. It could be sweat. But if it was blood, and he bled through his socks… he hadn’t budgeted for new shoes, this could be a problem.

He’s not exactly dissociating at this point, but he’s not exactly fully engaged with his surroundings, either. Although having to buy new shoes WOULD be a problem for him, so the tangent isn’t out of nowhere.

So when they reached the picnic shelter, he sat down and started taking his shoes off without prompting. “I may need to ask one of you to get me some plastic bags… Good.” It looked like only traces of blood had penetrated the socks, so his shoes were safe. “But I will need some plastic bags. And bandages…”

There was a rather loaded silence.

“What. Happened,” Noir said.

They were not expecting to see blood. Real-world injuries isn’t something either of them has had to deal with a lot.

There was probably some way to avoid the question, but— “Running laps. Without shoes.”

“Without— Does that happen often?” Niijima demanded.

“It can’t be that often per student or people’s feet would toughen up,” Goro said. “I don’t know. Often enough that they sterilize the track frequently, I think.”

“That’s barbaric.”

“Agreed,” Noir said. “But considering we did already see the principal’s cognitions of the teachers vivisecting cognitions of the students, it’s not… unexpected.”

“It’s not unexpected,” Goro agreed.

“What was unexpected was your showing up smiling like some sort of, of creepy talk show host, and then killing a Shadow with your bare hands, in some sort of… something that Amrita Drop apparently brought you out of. I was not expecting that.” Noir crossed her arms, and looked at him. Expectantly.

Aaaaaaand Haru has decided it’s going to be necessary to get him out of  that school. Because what the fuck. That’s not normal. That’s not even  your standard unacceptable physical discipline, that’s – what the fuck.  And clearly it’s bad for Goro in particular, because he still scared  her with his Future Akechi impression. Let’s get some answers about that  part; the school isn’t as much of a priority because she will remove it from the equation.

…Yeah, it had probably been too much to hope for that that would go unremarked. “That… I wasn't… I wasn’t planning on that. It just… happens sometimes.”

“Happens sometimes?” Noir said incredulously.

“Like… spontaneously?” Niijima asked.

And what a liability he’d be if it did. “Not… exactly. Do you know — I know you know, Noir — how sometimes you have to do something you don’t want to, but you also can’t let on that you don’t want to?” Niijima probably did, too, to a lesser extent.

“Yes…”

I’m not sure whether Goro has never encountered the concept of dissociation or if he refuses to connect it with his PERFECTLY HEALTHY COPING STRATEGY, SHUT UP, IT WORKS.

“Well, there's… a sort of… Sometimes I can… really hit my stride, I guess. Get so it gets easier to just… keep what I’m feeling separate. Keep me separate.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “So that’s good, but then sometimes — not often! — it sort of… overloads. And the overloads are worse in the Metaverse, for whatever reason.”

The purpose of Dissociation Goro is doing things necessary for his   goals/purposes that Regular Goro does not want to do or finds too   difficult. By ‘overloads’, he mostly means that sometimes Dissociation Goro apparently loses track of the goals and priorities of Regular Goro, and ends up doing unnecessary things.

“Probably the lack of consequences,” Noir said dryly.

“If my subconscious is counting on a lack of consequences for physically tackling Shadows, I’d like a few words with it.”

“…Point.”

It’s mostly that the cognitive world, with its Personas and Shadows running around, already his one’s consciousness a little more spread out than normal; it’s easier for the dissociation driver to get accidentally wired to input from the id or the intrusive thought generator.

“But if it originated in the real world, why did Amrita Drop work?” Niijima wondered. “Did it just shock you out of it? Is it because the… ailment was cognitive to start with?”

Goro shrugged again. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t have expected it to work.”

“Well, it’s good that it did,” Noir said. “Still, it would be better for it not to come up.”

“I'll… I agree, and. And I can try.”

I’m not 100% sure how he’s planning to try, here, without a strategy to get out of Jikken. Dissociation is still an important part of his toolbox of 500 variously functional coping mechanisms. But he doesn’t like going off the rails like that, he really relies on his self-control, and he agrees it’s not a good thing.

my @spideychellesecretsanta gift for @purplefuzzysweater! hope you like this Mar

summary: mj has known she was in love with peter since their senior year of high school. when peter asks her to pretend to be his girlfriend for some dumb christmas party, she agrees, and she realises that she'd do anything for him.

warnings: fluff, fake dating, college au

words: 2.3K

mj was undeniably in love with peter. she realised at the beginning of their senior year of high school when on their first day back she was running late cause there was long line at her favourite tea shop and she couldn’t pick up her order, she arrived and found peter waiting for her with a cup in his hands and a dumb grin on his face.

so, of course, when peter runs into the café they always meet up at every two weeks or so when they could spare the time and slams his hands on the table in front of her and heaves out: “i need you to pretend to be my girlfriend at this party”, mj doesn’t even look up from her book when she says, “don’t be stupid.”

peter groans and sits down in front of her. “just hear me out, okay?” he pleads. mj sighs and nods for him to continue, when the waiter comes with tea for her and a cup of coffee for peter. he stared at it funny. “you ordered for me?”

mj felt her cheeks heat up and cleared her throat. “i knew you were going to be late, it’s not a big deal.”

peter just hummed. “anyway, about the girlfriend thing...”

“yes, care to explain that?”

he nodded as he took a sip of his drink. “so you know that prick i was telling you about at my school? brad davis?” the way peter siad his name, dripped with hatred and disdain never failed to make ner laugh.

“uh-huh. with how much you talk about him, i’d think you’re dating,” mj says looking up from her book to give peter a sly grin. he merely rolled his eyes.

mj really had heard all about brad davis. it’s the one consistent thing peter talks about whenever they meet up. the two friends got into different colleges and while peter was off becoming his own person, mj could count on his hatred for brad never changing.

“well,” peter said continuing, “brad davis keeps annoying me about not having a girlfriend and today i guess i snapped. i kinda told him you were my girlfriend? and that you’d be my date to this dumb christmas party he’s throwing this weekend?”

michelle nearly choked on her tea. “why would you do that?”

“i know, i know, the expectation that people in their early twenties should already be in relationships is a product of the toxic societal standards western culture has thrust upon us, but i really wanted to shut brad davis up.”

michelle’s eyes widened as peter went on his tangent because that was the same thing she said to her parents when she had ned and peter over during junior year after they kept asking when they were going to get into relationships. “i said that. you remembered?” she asked scrunching up her nose.

peter shrugged. “of course. i remember everything you say.” michelle felt heat rise up her neck. honestly, this whole loving peter thing was a bit of an inconvenience. “so please, please, please come with me? just to get brad davis off my case.

looking at peter’s pouting face, michelle sighed. “you are so lucky i—” she cut herself off, knowing what she would have said if she wasn’t careful.

“so lucky you what?”

i love you. she doesn’t say this. “so lucky i have nothing better to do this weekend.”

her friend’s eyes widened and a huge smile broke out on his face. “you’re serious? really, you’ll do it?”

“keep asking and i’ll change my mind.”

“oh my god, thank you! you are the best! i love you, you know that right? i will make it up to you and i swear...”

the rest of what peter said was lost to mj. i love you, you know that right? replayed itself over and over in her head. of course she knew he meant it platonically, but the warmth it caused in her chest was undeniable.

***

mj was undeniably in love with peter. she knew this because she was sitting in a subway dressed up in the nicest dress she owned on her way to nyu to pick up her boyfriend for the night.

when she called ned to yell about what she had agreed to (because ned has been mj’s sole confident in everything peter since high school) he just laughed and told her to hope for mistletoe. which was not bad advice. she’d get to kiss peter and brad davis would get to shove it. everybody won.

she arrived at his dorm room and knocked on the door. peter swung the door open with his shirt half-buttoned and jeans unzipped.

he stood there staring at mj not saying anything, his mouth slightly parted. michelle felt her body heat up under his gaze. “uh...you look...” his words died in his throat.

“thank you. you too,” michelle said nodding nervously. peter swallowed.

“uh, i thought i was picking you up,” he said scratching the back of his neck.

michelle shrugged rubbing her arm. “i knew you’d be late.”

peter smiled at that. then he seemed to remember that she was still standing outside. “oh! you can come in. i won’t be long.”

nodding, michelle smiled and followed peter into his dorm. now of course mj had been in his dorm. they’d visit each other on campus as well sometimes. so she was familiar with the layout and took a seat on a chair where a desk sat.

“mj?”

turning around she saw peter’s roommate, harry osborn, staring at her in shock.

“hey, osborn.”

“you know peter told me this whole thing was fake, just to get davis to shut it, so let me give you some advice.”

mj furrowed her eyebrows. “what?”

harry nodded. “you want this to be believable? just act like you always do.”

michelle’s eyes widened. “uhh...i don’t—”

“—trust me.”

peter came out at that moment dressed properly and he cleared his throat. “ready to go...babe?” he added almost as an afterthought. like he was getting used to the weight of the word in his mouth.

“uh, yeah.” michelle stood up, cheeks flaring. “are we doing the pet name thing?”

“i guess so,” peter said shrugging. “unless you don’t want to,” he quickly added.

michelle brushed him off and held an arm out for him. “shall we? babe?”

he hooked his arm with hers. “we shall, darling.”

they walked out the door arm in arm as harry yelled, “be safe kids!”

***

mj was undeniably in love with peter. she knew this because she was walking arm in arm with him to a party ready to piss off a prick by pretending to be his girlfriend.

the party was, in what mj assumed was, brad’s apartment on campus. it was fancy; way more than mj could ever afford. when they opened the door, they were met with obnoxious music and last minute christmas decorations strewn around. mj wasn’t even sure this was a christmas party. just a party that happened to be taking place at christmas time. this alone made michelle dislike brad even more.

speak of the devil, as if her thoughts summoned him, a tall man with broad shoulders and dark hair walked through a sea a people towards them. michelle knew without a doubt that this was brad. she had never met him before, but judging from the confidence so clearly exuded, and the natural douchebag aura he had going for him, she knew this was the guy and so she instinctively wrapped her arm around peter’s waist and chalked up his sharp intake of breath as surprise and not because it was her specifically.

brad greeted peter with a booming, “porker! glad you could make it!” michelle let out an audible groan. great, she thought bitterly, another flash. brad turned his head to her as if just noticing her for the first time. he eyed her skeptically. “wait, are you peter’s girlfriend?”

mj had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. “i am nobody’s anything. peter is my boyfriend.” next to her, michelle saw peter nod along.

brad let out a douchebag laugh that mj was all too familiar with thanks to the four years she spent with flash. “peter was right. you are...feisty.”

michelle’s eyebrow cocked. she isn’t sure how peter sees her, but she is sure that ‘feisty’ is not a word he would to describe her. unless he wanted a punch to the gut.

peter groaned. “i never said that. i said she was her own person.”

“yeah, whatever porker.” brad clapped a hand on peter’s shoulder. “enjoy the party. and merry christmas!”

when he walked away, michelle turned to peter. “i despise him.”

peter chuckled. “join the club. come on,” he took her hand and mj felt sparks shoot up her arm, “let me introduce to my friends.”

“oh, i didn’t know ned was here,” she joked.

“i have other friends, em.”

“sure.”

he led her away to a group of people sitting on a couch. there, she met gwen stacy, felicity hardy and eddie brock. it made sense for peter to have a small group of friends and they were nice. mj liked them.

felicity stood up and offered to get them snacks and she looked at mj with a pointed finger. “vegetarian, right?”

surprised that she knew that, michelle nodded. “yeah...”

felicity sent a wink to peter who was blushing furiously when mj turned to him before heading to the kitchen. he wouldn’t meet her gaze, which michelle found strange. felicity came back with a bowl of chips and the group swapped all the crazy college stories they knew.

at some point, michelle stood up to get a drink and peter decided to join her. they stood leaning against the kitchen counter, each with a beer in hand.

“cheers,” peter said nervously scratching his neck. mj clinked her bottle with his.

“cheers.”

they drank holding hands and facing each other, so whenever someone looked over at them, they looked couple-y. it was peter’s idea.

“can i ask,” michelle asked, taking a sip of her beer, “how did felicity know i was a vegetarian?”

“uh, i may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“why would my diet have come up in a conversation?”

peter groaned loudly. “fine, i talk about you to my friends, no big deal.”

it was a big deal. to michelle at least, because, well, what was peter saying to his friends?

they fell into a comfortable silence after that.

when brad walked passed them, slapping peter’s back, peter cleared his throat and looked at mj. “hey, uh, thanks again for doing this.”

michelle waved him off. “of course. and between you and i, i kind of enjoy having you as a boyfriend. even if it is just for show.”

mj was not a lightweight. she could handle her liquor just fine. but this was nearing her third bottle and the filter between her brain and the rest of her body was slowly disappearing. there was no way she would say any of these things sober. ever.

peter’s eyes widened. “really?” mj nodded. he took a breath. “how drunk are you right now?”

it took her a moment before she responded. “big drunk.”

he stifled a laugh at her. “you gonna remember any of this?”

“i always do.”

he nodded with a smile. “well then, can i tell you something?” mj hummed an affirmative. “i really enjoy being your boyfriend. and i don’t want it to only be for show.”

michelle’s eyebrows furrow deeply. “i...i’m too drunk to respond properly.”

“that’s fine. you can give me one tomorrow when you’re sober.”

the rest of the night, michelle was uncharacteristically quiet. she was deep in thought mulling over what peter meant. by the time peter had called a taxi for them, she had already sobered up a bit. meaning she had thrown up in brad’s potted plant.

peter and mj were standing outside the house in the snow waiting for the car. after thinking it over and debating the pros and cons in her head, mj decided that if peter got to be cryptic and shit, so did she.

“peter,” she called out. he turned to face her, nose tinged red from the cold. “i have something to tell you. the only reason i agreed to be your girlfriend for tonight was because i am madly in love with you and you could literally ask me to do anything and i would. in a heartbeat. i also kind of wanted to see what it would be like to be your girlfriend for a little while.”

letting out a breath, mj realised she was not as sober as she thought she was. becuase that? that was not cryptic at all.

peter was staring at her like a deer caught in headlights, with his lips slightly parted and eyes wide.

“shit,” mj murmured. “that wasn’t supposed to be so direct and—shit. ignore me, please. you can turn around and pretend i never said anything and—”

michelle didn’t notice peter walking towards her until his lips were on her cheek. her eyes immediately fluttered shut and her heart raced beneath her ribcage. it was freezing outside, but mj swore she felt heat spread through her body all the way to her toes. peter’s kiss lingered and mj had to fight a groan of frustration when he finally pulled away.

his face was beet red and he had this doe eyed look to him. softly, he said, “we’re under the mistletoe.” michelle looked up and he was right. over the doorway was a piece of mistletoe hanging. “and,” he began, still as close as he was when he kissed her, “i just really wanted to do that.”

michelle inhaled sharply. “well, are you gonna do it again?”

he did. again and again. as if he was making up for the times when he did not.

***

mj was undeniably in love with peter. she knew this because she was sitting on his couch with his head in her lap and her hand in his hair. she knew this because this was not the first time they had ended up like this and knew it wouldn’t be the last.

also the fact that peter was undeniably in love with her wasn’t hurting anything.

Nesting Chapter 11

Chapter Summary: We're getting closer to canon, y'all. So have a surprise Barry appearance! Things are starting to move fast around here.

Okay. Maybe they should have waited a little longer to buy some of this stuff. Taako's room was hard to navigate now with all the baby stuff all over the place. Besides which, all of it was a constant reminder of his situation- one that was proving to be quite unwelcome.

Taako hadn't expected that. It wasn't like he could forget what was going on, whether or not there was a bunch of visual reminders all over the place. But it seemed that he'd managed to block it out at least sometimes, given how much more aware of it he was now.

The fact that he was showing probably didn't help with that either. No matter what Lup said, Taako could tell that he was showing. And it was only getting more and more obvious as time went on. Maybe not enough for any stranger on the street to tell, but it was getting there.

His clothes didn't fit like they were supposed to anymore. It was incredibly frustrating, because Taako liked to look good, and he'd collected his stash of clothing because it looked good, and now, suddenly, it didn't look good anymore.

Some of it was still fine, obviously, but his wardrobe felt like it had suddenly shrunk down to a fraction of its previous size, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was only going to get worse over the next several months.

The nausea was starting to pass- fucking finally- but it hadn't disappeared completely, and it was hardly the only annoying thing about this whole experience. He felt like he was constantly starving or exhausted, and his body hurt, and sometimes he couldn't seem to think at all.

One day after class, a professor asked to speak with him, and he knew it was about the sudden decline in the quality of his work. He had been forgetting stuff a lot recently, making dumb, careless mistakes, and it was costing him, especially considering that he was too tired to catch those mistakes a lot of the time.

She did surprise him with how she asked it though.

"Mr. Taako, is there anything going on in your personal life that may be impacting your ability to keep up with the work? I am very open to making arrangements and accommodations to help my students in these situations," she said, voice soft and careful.

Taako figured that it wouldn't hurt anything to tell her. He'd be unable to hide it soon enough anyway, and if it could buy him some pity points so he could have an easier time with his classwork, then he wasn't afraid to play on her sympathy.

"Yeah, so, I'm pregnant," he said, the words coming out with more difficulty than he'd anticipated, but whatever. It was said. "The whole thing has been rough and I'm having trouble with some things I wasn't before."

The professor began to make sympathetic noises as soon as Taako started explaining, a look on her face that suggested that she wasn't all that surprised, and Taako added another tally to his mental "told you so, Lup" checklist.

"I understand. I had two difficult pregnancies myself," she said. "We do have resources for our student parents, if you need them. Accommodations can be made to ensure you can keep up with your work and your learning. And I for one, am very willing to meet with you to help ensure that you are able to complete my course."

"Yeah, chill, that'd be great," Taako nodded.

"Why don't you come by my office hours sometime this week, and I'll help connect you with the office that handles these things, and we can work out a plan for this course. In the meantime, and for your other classes, is there anyone in your life who can help with these things? A friend or family that could look over your work for simple errors and such would be a boon in itself. Pregnancy brain is no joke," she laughed despite the words.

"Got a sister, yeah. And a friend," Taako shrugged, because he couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of that before. Of course Lup would help with this shit.

He couldn't believe that he hadn't thought about all the sympathy points he could get from this pregnancy situation before now. He was doing something fucking hard, and he deserved those sympathy points. Lup wasn't going to begrudge him lazing around on the couch like this, and it was plain common courtesy to offer pregnant people stuff like seats on public transit and whatever the fuck, he didn't usually pay that much attention.

Yeah, no, he was cashing in on that for sure.

-

When Taako and Lup entered their magic theory classroom, there was someone other than their professor standing behind the podium.

"Creesh, who's that?" Lup hissed, leaning forward to whisper the question to Lucretia.

"Dr. Bluejeans," she whispered back.

"Okay, and why is he here?" Taako asked.

"I don't know. I know nothing about him," Lucretia shrugged.

"You knew his name, though," Taako pointed out.

Lucretia turned to face them at that, specifically so that they could watch as she raised her eyebrows at them incredulously.

"It's written on the board," she said.

Oh. Yeah, sure enough, "Guest Speaker Dr. Bluejeans" was written in the prof's handwriting on the board. Taako was just glad Lup didn't notice either, so that he wasn't alone in that bit of obliviousness.

Though, really, if Lup had noticed, he could have just chalked it up to pregnancy brain. That was an excuse that he already knew he was going to miss when he couldn't use it anymore. Instant understanding was less forthcoming when your excuse was "I have ADHD" or "I'm just a dumbass," the other primary excuses he had on the table for these situations.

Dr. Bluejeans looked a tiny bit uncomfortable standing in front of the crowd of students, fidgeting with his papers and rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited for class to officially begin.

Lup craned her head, trying to get a look at- yep, he was in fact, wearing blue jeans, and she grinned to herself. God, she couldn't decide which was better: if he had been born with that name, meaning there was a whole Bluejeans clan out there in the world somehow, or if he had, like, full out changed his name because of his love for this particular sartorial choice.

The minute the clock ticked over to the start of class, their prof began to speak, moving from one of the front row seats to stand beside the guest speaker.

"Class, this is my colleague, Dr. Barry Bluejeans," he introduced.

God, the full name was even better. Lup fought to not let her face split into a ridiculous grin, but upon exchanging a look of amusement with Taako, knew that she was failing. She shouldn't have let herself look at Taako, because shit was always funnier when she was sharing it with him.

She shoved the grin down and tried to focus.

"I have asked him to speak with you today as he is this Institute's premiere expert on bond magic, a pioneering field that you should all expect to hear much more about in the upcoming years. I expect you all to treat him with the same respect you would show me."

"Not exactly difficult to clear that bar," Taako whispered to Lup, and she snorted, before elbowing him in the side.

"Shush! Poor nerd already looks terrified," she said, tilting her head toward the guest lecturer.

He must not teach many classes, or at least, not big lectures if he was this awkward and nervous about speaking with all of them. But if his field was so new and specialized, as prof had implied, that might make sense. Probably he was more used to doing his research and maybe teaching some smaller, high-level classes.

"Hello, everyone," Dr. Bluejeans greeted, offering them a sweet smile. "As Professor Dillon said-"

"Okay, I like him," Taako said to her, gesturing to where their prof was making a sour face at the title Bluejeans had used for him.

Bluejeans seemed oblivious to it, but Lup knew exactly what the face was for. Professor Dillweed had gone on a rant a time or two before about the fact that "doctor" was his preferred title over "professor" and how it was 'disrespectful' to not use it.

Nobody really listened to that, with even some of the fresh-out-of-high-school and suck-up students switching it out occasionally. Lup and Taako only ever used "professor", if they were even that nice about it.

The lecture was actually really fascinating, and Lup found herself leaning forward in excitement as Bluejeans talked about his work.

Lucretia was rapidly taking notes, and Lup for sure planned to ask her to look it over later, because she wanted a record of this stuff. It was really interesting.

Even Taako was pulled out of his 'too cool' attitude by the lecture a bit, and Lup saw some of the nerdier facets of her brother's personality peek out a bit. He never liked to admit to that, but Taako was a total nerd for cool magic shit, and Lup could see how much the new topic was drawing him in.

It helped that Bluejeans was so obviously invested in his work himself. He clearly loved the topic, and it made it a whole lot more interesting to listen to than Dillon's droning on about the different types and properties of magic.

"If you would like to learn more about bond magic, I teach a specialized course on the subject- MAS 375- which will be offered next semester. We'll be discussing the properties of bond magic and its usage in everything from everyday spellwork to advanced technology. There's actually a very fascinating project ongoing to utilize bond magic to power an engine- I can't speak too much on the matter now, but it's very exciting," Bluejeans explained. "Oh! And I also teach in the necromancy department!"

He seemed like he was about to go off on another tangent about that, when he noticed the clock tick over to end the class.

"Looks like we're out of time, everybody. Thanks for your time!" Bluejeans said, waving cheerily at everyone as he began to pack up his bag.

A number of students had started moving to the front of the class to speak to the guy, and Taako watched as Lup's eyes flickered over to him curiously as well.

"I gotta talk to Dillon about some shit," Taako said. "Go ahead and bother the nerd."

"I'd like to thank Dr. Bluejeans for the lecture. We can talk to him together," Lucretia offered, turning to Lup and smiling nervously.

Taako fought the urge to roll his eyes, gathering his stuff as Lup and Lucretia headed off to do that.

The classroom emptied out pretty quickly, which Taako appreciated. He didn't love the idea of talking about this where anyone could overhear, but he had to do it, and he didn't want to spend any more time around Dillon than he needed, which meant not making an appointment or anything.

By the time Taako made his way over to Dillon, Lup and Lucretia were speaking with Bluejeans, and most everyone else had left. There were a few students lingering to add in to whatever conversation was happening over there, but most everyone, especially the non-majors had left.

"Hey, Professor Dillon?" Taako asked, trying to keep it relatively professional without actually being respectful, since he was about to ask this guy to do something for him and all.

"Yes, Mr. Taako?" Dillon asked, and Taako did not love the way that he looked at him, all condescending-like.

"I'm pregnant. Got some accommodations for it. Here's the info," Taako said, reaching into his bag to pull out the very official looking and very crumbled form he'd been given to share with his professors.

Dillon took it, wrinkling his nose, and Taako could just tell that the guy was judging him, and he would say something if the dude wasn't, like, in charge of his grades and shit.

"I see. Well, I'm not exactly sure what you expect me to do for you, but-"

Bluejeans walked over at that moment, interrupting Dillon to say, "Oh, Wyatt, if you'd like, I can provide some of my notes on how to alter a lesson plan for accommodations like these! It can be a little complicated, I know, but I'm happy to help. The Office for Student Health has some great resources too. It's really awesome how committed the Institute is to supporting our students, isn't it?"

Taako glanced back toward Lup and Lucretia, wondering if they'd caught all that too, only to find them watching Bluejeans with surprised and pleased expressions. From how they were standing, it kind of looked like Bluejeans had walked over in the middle of the conversation to say that, and Taako tried to keep his expression neutral, instead of the smug look he wanted to give.

"Yes, you're right, of course. I would be so glad to receive those notes, Barry," Dillon said, through somewhat gritted teeth and a forced smile. Taako was pretty sure the usage of the guy's name was intended to sound disrespectful, knowing dickheads as well as he did, but it was pretty weak considering that Bluejeans had used Dillon's name first.

"Wonderful. I'll send them over right away. We'll set up a meeting to talk it over, yeah?" Bluejeans said, smiling and looking for all the world like a friendly colleague instead of the asshole he clearly was.

Not like Taako minded though. He was being an asshole on his behalf, after all, and Taako's favorite people all tended to be assholes, so he was mostly just amused.

"So, we're done here, yeah?" Taako asked Dillon, because if he didn't get out of this conversation, he was going to laugh in the guy's face, and that wasn't gonna earn him any favors, he knew.

"Yes, I do believe so," Dillon said, turning away and picking up his own bags to walk out of the lecture hall.

"I, uh, hope you don't mind me interrupting like that," Bluejeans said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, suddenly looking a bit nervous.

"Nah, dude, that was great," Taako said, waving off the apology before the guy could even finish saying it.

"Nice! Dillon's such an ass, amiright?" Lup said, throwing one hand up for a high five, which Bluejeans quickly but nervously reciprocated.

"Listen, I don't want to pry, but if he's being a dick or anything about all this, you can contact the department and they'll sort it out. Dillon is an old-fashioned sort, but he has tenure, so he feels comfortable being shitty. But there's still lines he can't cross," Bluejeans explained, before digging in his pocket and pulling out his wallet. "In fact, here's my card. Got my number, my office, all that good shit. If he does anything, tell me and we can figure it out."

Taako took the card, because like hell was he gonna turn down free help. The guy seemed pretty genuine in his desire to help too, and Taako appreciated the offer, even if he wasn't sure if he'd ever feel a need to take it.

"Thanks, man," Taako said, before turning back to Lup. "So we good to go now, or?"

"I think so, yeah." Lup agreed, turning to Lucretia, "See ya, Luce!" She also offered a beaming smile and a wave at Bluejeans as they left. "You're great! We'll talk later, yeah?"

Bluejeans didn't seem to know quite what to say to that, just nodding and waving as Taako and Lup made their escape.

Girls Interrupted, Chapter 1: The Institution: 1, Katya: 0 (Vatya) 2/2 - Maeve

A/N: It’s Maeve again! I’m so freaking surprised and overjoyed at the positive reception Girls Interrupted has received. All of you who have such kind things have truly inspired me to keep going on this. I can now say I'm rewatching seasons in the name of research! As always, feedback is welcome. I write because I enjoy it but also so other people can enjoy it, too. So, really, I’d love to hear any feedback or suggestions.

P.S. I’m having so much fun writing the interactions between Katya and the other queens, but I think my favorite part of this chapter is either an especially cheeky Sharon Needles line or the gym teacher/coach that is very loosely based on a straight Santino Rice

This chapter picks up right where the last chapter left off: Violet and Katya’s ice breaker activity…

Fortunately, Violet realized that she would—at the very least—have to cooperate with the menial activity. “Violet,” she supplied cooly.

Katya tried and failed to stifle her laugh. The raven-haired girl looked at her challengingly.

“Tha-that’s a good choice. Very good. I love every color!” Katya stammered as she wrote down Violet’s response. She couldn’t be sure if her partner was filling out her own worksheet, but Katya couldn’t bring herself to care that much. She just wanted this over and done with. Each moment she spent next to the cheerleader made her feel more and more inadequate. Violet was judging her; she felt small enough on her own.

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” Katya continued.

This one Violet was quick to answer, “Literally anywhere but here.”

Her passive face told Katya she wasn’t going to get a better answer. I’ll just put down ‘Everywhere. She loves to travel.’, she resolved. “I think it would be really cool to go to Russia,” Katya offered.

Violet’s eyes left her phone screen. They searched the face of the blonde across the table, traveled down to Katya’s communism-inspired name card, and finally met her partner’s ocean blue eyes. “No?” Her face contorted in mock shock. “Let me guess,” she pandered, “If you could have lunch with any famous person dead or alive, you’d choose Putin.”

“Good guess,” Katya shook her head with amusement, “But it’s actually Maria Bamford.” It was obvious that Violet had no idea who Maria Bamford was. However, a quick glance at the clock told her there wasn’t enough time left in the class for her to go off on another tangent. “What about you, Violet?”

“Dita Von Teese. Next,” she urged.

“What are your favorite TV shows?” Katya continued eagerly, excited that Violet was finally being an active participant.

Violet’s response was almost instant, “Forensic Files and Sex and the City.” Everything about the brunette screamed confidence and certainty—something that came through in everything that she did. Katya wished it were that easy for her.

“I really like Game of Thrones, The Heart She Holler, and Storage Wars: Northern Treasures…..It’s the Canadian version,” Katya trailed off. There was an unspoken ‘and?’ in Violet’s expression, but she couldn’t produce a single reason for why that mattered. But it had mattered. “Anyway…What’s next?” Katya pushed through her embarrassment. “Something I’m good at? Sleeping, I’m good at sleeping. I guess I’m very bendy. Flexible. I can do theater, too…”

“Just put down cheer for me,” Violet ordered without looking up from her own worksheet. The blonde hesitated at the instruction, and Violet let out an impatient huff. “What?”

Katya was quick to apologize, “Sorry, it’s just that I thought you might say something about fashion.” She swallowed thickly. “I’m-I’ve seen you in the halls before, and you look good. Great. Your clothes. You clearly put a lot of effort into your appearance, and I thou—”

“Well, you thought wrong,” Violet spat. “You don’t know anything about me, so don’t pretend like you do.”

The blonde hurriedly scribbled down the word cheer under question five on her page and grabbed both of their papers. “Right. I’ll just go turn these in,” Katya fled the table without a thought. She had clearly angered Violet. Didn’t the popular kids like it when you stroked their egos? Katya wondered. She hadn’t meant to come off as judgemental. It was obvious that they weren’t on the same level, and hopefully Violet would understand that she hadn’t been trying to judge her. She only wanted to get to know the girl better, but she knew know how stupid she’d been to think that possible. No one like Violet would ever waste time on her. Sighing, she placed the two worksheets in a plastic turn-in bin labeled ‘4th’, and made her way back to her desk.

Katya had been disappointed that she had double A Lunch, but the forty minutes were the perfect break before pre-calculus. While it meant she could eat earlier, it also meant that she had no friends to eat with. Ginger and Bianca both had B Lunch. So Katya found herself on the steps of the stairs in the courtyard by the fine arts wing, eating a peanut butter and banana sandwich. There was beauty in the simple things, though, and Katya could appreciate the warmth of the sun and the slight breeze that late morning.

Mrs. Hugh’s room was stuffy. Katya’s funfetti extravaganza was clinging to her yet again, but she couldn’t adjust the fabric too much without disrupting those around her. She wasn’t willing to risk it. Unlike in all her other classes, the blonde always sat front and center in math class. All of the numbers made a mess in her head, and it was easier if she had fewer distractions. No one else felt the same way, though. So when Alaska tumbled in just before the tardy bell, Katya was forced into yet another less than ideal situation.The sunny cheerleader didn’t share that sentiment. Alaska flashed Katya a hundred watt smile and whispered a hello.

Katya didn’t get Alaska. Alaska wasn’t your stereotypical dumb blonde. She struggled in some areas but always kept up with the pack. So she was smarter than she looked? Big deal. What Katya failed to understand was why such a kind, sincere, and smart person would allow herself to be bullied by her peers. The cheer squad clearly didn’t think she had brain cells; Alaska was practically their punching bag from what she’d observed. So why hang around?

Miss Honard, you are an enigma, Katya assessed.

Katya’s continued curiosity over the duration of  Mrs. Hugh’s introductory speech gained her a very important piece of information: if she couldn’t get the lanky blonde out of her head, she was going to have to let her in. And Katya would not be friends with a cheerleader.

Katya praised Marx for the district employee who put Bianca Del Rio in her history class. She and Bianca were unlikely friends—a high school mascot and a theater kid didn’t really run in the same circles—but made an unstoppable duo. Coach A., their teacher seemed to get a kick out of them too.

Bianca was an unexpected constant in Katya’s life. The self-proclaimed bitch was Spartacus, the high school mascot, and the two would never have overlapped if not for their shared love/hate relationship with theater. She was a year younger than Katya but that didn’t stop her from providing Katya with the tough love she needed to keep her head screwed on. Keeping her head on straight was out of the question; Bianca did what she could.

The two girls schlepped over to the far side of the school where the gym was located. Katya, who had made the dumb decision to postpone getting her PE credit for as long, was not looking forward to an entire year of physical activity. Bianca, on the other hand, basically earned herself a double off campus by taking on the role of mascot. And yes, she definitely took pleasure in rubbing the fact in Katya’s face. Sucks to suck.

The other shit thing about a 7th period gym class was that Katya would be in uncomfortably close proximity to the cheerleaders. It felt wrong—almost like she was breaking a nonexistent restraining order. What sick bastard decided the plebs in “team sports” should be forced to observe the pretty girls in peak physical capacity while they drowned in their own sweat? Katya didn’t know the answer, and you certainly couldn’t hold her accountable if they were suddenly beheaded.

One locker and a stack of unisex uniforms later, Katya found herself entertaining the musings of Sharon Needles, resident goth girl.

“‘I look spooky, but I’m really nice,’” Sharon had said when they were assigned lockers next to each other. The witchy teen had a thing for reading people—not that an anxious Katya was hard to see through—and took one look at her and saw a kindred spirit. The funfetti dress and clown shoes didn’t scream normal, either. Katya had been uncharacteristically optimistic about befriending Sharon for all of ten minutes before everything went to shit. Phi Phi O’Hara, Sharon’s mortal enemy, also happened to be in the class.

“I’m surprised you took gym, Party City. Wouldn’t want you to melt in your own sweat.” Phi Phi snarked. The playground bully reclined herself against the row of lockers across from them and examined her nails.

Katya groaned inwardly. Sharon groaned outwardly.

“Fuck off, Phi Phi,” Sharon begged. “Don’t you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice? My ears are bleeding and not in a pleasant way.”

“Eat shit and die, Shar Bear,” Phi Phi called over her shoulder as she skipped off to bother some other poor shmucks.

Phi Phi the schoolyard bully reminded Katya of the villain poodle in one of those Open Season movies. Ironically, that poodle was also named Fifi, which was funny because the poodle was also a boy. Fifi the poodle was groomed like a pretty purse dog and had a little blue bow in his hair. Katya was inclined to take Phi Phi O’Hara—who was not incredibly dissimilar to a trophy pet—just as seriously.

“What crawled up her ass and died?” Katya scrunched up her face.

“If you find out, let me know,” Sharon deadpanned. “I need a smoke.” Katya watched in amusement as the locker room’s resident goth chick removed a pack of Marlboro’s and a lighter from her leather jacket. Sharon caught the blonde’s expression and raised her fist in response. “Fight the system,” she stoically decreed. Katya shrugged as if to say “what can you do?” and gestured for Sharon to walk back to the gym with her.

Their gym class had been banished to the wooden bleachers so the cheerleaders could practice for that Friday’s Back-To-School Pep Rally. The two girls tucked themselves into a far corner on the top row, and Sharon finally lit up.

Coach Rice, who had taken attendance at the beginning of class, had stepped in to assist Coach Calhoun with cheer practice.

Katya and Sharon were fortunate enough to have an unobstructed view of the girls shamelessly throwing themselves at the older man. The majority of the bimbettes were faces she expected: Detox, Roxy, Willam, Courtney, Adore, and Laganja. What she wasn’t expecting, however, was for one Violet Chachki to be the leader of the pack. Stratford’s mean queen never sought out attention, let alone fought for it. Miss Chachki was a one of a kind collectible, and the entire student body knew it. You either wanted her or wanted to be her.

Today, it seemed her flavor of choice was Santino Rice.

Katya udged Sharon with her elbow. “What do you make of that?” She consulted the other girl.

Sharon took a moment to complete her assessment. “I bet a girl that tightly wound is a real screamer in bed,” she answered smoothly. Katya had not been expecting any response of the sort and physically toppled over as she was seized by laughter. Katya’s wheezing drew the attention of those nearby, and Sharon had to hold her cigarette in her mouth so she could flip them off with both hands. They could mind their own fucking business.

Katya was still clinging onto Sharon’s thigh when her fit died down. “You bitch!” She shrieked.

“I’m not wrong,” Sharon defended, taking another long drag from her cigarette. “Ten bucks says she’s hitting on him right now.” In her best Valley Girl impression she crooned, “Oh, Coach Rice, can you help me with my form?”

Katya wasted no time in contributing to the impression. “Can we go to Red Lobster?” The blonde begged in her best Violet-esque bedroom voice.

The absurdity of the request and the thought of Violet, herself, saying those words caused Sharon to half cackle and half choke on her own smoke. Her throaty laugh bounced off of the walls, and this time, it wasn’t just a few pairs of eyes that turned to them.

Uh oh, Katya cringed, busted.

“Sharon Needles, put that shit out and march your ass on over to Assistant Principal Visage’s office!” Coach Rice demanded.

Katya facepalmed hard. What is wrong with you, you stupid whore? She groaned. It’s your fault she’s in deep shit, and she’s never going to speak to you again. The blonde was about to lose herself in an abyss of despair when Sharon’s voice filled the room again.

“Oh no!” Sharon drawled, “Whatever shall I do?” Katya had brought her head up to witness the spectacle and was met with Sharon’s shit-eating grin.

Katya raised her fist in solidarity, referencing Sharon’s anti-establishment words in the locker room. Her spooky new friend shot her a cheeky wink before saluting her corporate whistleblower and unhurriedly leaving the building.

Katya’s eyes left Sharon’s retreating form just in time to catch Violet glaring at her.

The blonde did her best not to worry. It wasn’t like Violet could have known they were talking about her, right?

The bell rang at 3:00, and Katya still hadn’t managed to put the captain of the cheer squad out of her mind. She spent her entire 8th period dodging Bianca’s questions and pleading for some all-knowing entity to tell her just where in life she had gone wrong. Definitely new year, same bullshit. Katya had attempted to begin her junior year with a more optimistic attitude, but after a first day for the history books, she was ready to call it quits.

You win, Stratford, you win. I am but a shell of a man. Woe is the poor soul who dare enter thee, Katya scowled.

The rest of Katya’s will to live vanished when she finally reached her trusty blue Beetle in the junior lot.

“Mother, I am want to commit death,” she muttered.

The cherry red convertible parked next to Katya’s car belonged to none other than Violet Chachki. The bright red exterior was blinding under the afternoon sun, and Katya had to squint to make out faces. A swarm of girls in uniform short skirts and halter tops formed a green and white sea around her only means of escape. Not wanting to engage with Violet for a third time that day, the blonde chose to turn on her heels and pop a squat on the curb.

It was going to be a long year.

some (very long) Hiro metas and a Kisa-n-Tohru tangent

seeing the "Hiro is a brat!" "Hiro just has trauma!" debate has made me ponder…

Like, not to compare trauma and argue who had what worse and invalidate suffering, but my immediate reaction was kind of, "Wait, what? I mean, okay, I guess Hiro did just have some trauma re: Kisa, but like, overall…???"

So it's time for some scrutiny!

I’mma talk myself through this in a post.

Here we have Hiro. He's a Souma, which is pretty damn traumatic in its own right, and possessed by a Zodiac spirit, which is even worse. He's part of an elite inner circle, privileged with status and wealth; but on the flip side, there's still people in the family who look down on the Zodiac, and Hiro's looking at a future of isolation (afraid of looking like a monster, afraid to betray the family secret, not properly free to pick his own job, may or may not be able to live outside the estate, love life is gonna be a disaster when puberty hits). And Akito, whom the possessed part of him loves deeply and desperately, tends to weaponize his own love and withhold it when someone displeases him, or turn hurtful when someone needs punishment.

Okay, so that's bad. But Hiro shares that with all of the Zodiac members, that's just the baseline trauma, and there's some compounding issues at play that Hiro lacks:

- Hiro, as the Sheep, isn't especially hated. Kyou, for instance, has a bad attitude that's partly due to the entire clan ragging on him for being a horrible abomination of a monster, comparing him unfavorably to Idealized Yuki, and telling him he's gonna be locked up in a one-room house on the estate to suffer out his life--and that's not even counting how being the Cat affected how his immediate family treated him. Haru, as the Ox, got ~harmlessly teased~ about being a big dumb slow stupid ox by the family so much that he started flipping over to a Black personality to violently vent his feelings.

- Hiro's family life is, as far as I can tell, actually ideal. His parents didn't reject him (Momiji, Kyou re: his sperm donor, Rin), split up over him (I suspect this is what happened for Kagura, because her parents argued a lot when she was young, and I wonder about the fact that Ritsu's dad isn't at the onsen? And there's no mention of Kisa's dad? But then again, we're told repeatedly that Yuki and Ayame have a father and he lives in the same house as their mother and I've never seen proof of this man's existence), be coolly indifferent to him (Ayame after Yuki was born and he got off the hook but honestly I think that was a blessing to him, Yuki, Hatori), or get extremely overprotective (Kyou re: his mom, I'd argue this is partly why Ritsu's mom is so stressed out, and also I'd argue this may be why Kisa's mom hits her limit). In fact, Hiro's the only one who we can definitely say has two parents, who live together, and have a good relationship, and actively enjoy nurturing their child. Also Satsuki's completely adorkable. (This puts strain on Hiro in other ways, lol, but at least he shares that feeling with his dad.)

- Hiro, as the Sheep, probably doesn't particularly stand out. I'm guessing his hair color isn't particularly notable? So he probably hasn't been singled out for teasing from people who don't even know about the curse, like Kyou and Haru and Kisa. (No one's not-thirsty enough to have teased Ayame or Yuki for their looks, I'm pretty sure, and Momiji can pull the biracial card, even if that wouldn't stop people, and went to international school, where people probably found other ways to pick on you.)

So where, for Hiro, does his particular extremely combative, condescending, scathing, sarcastic attitude come from?

That's not to say none of those things above could be factors. It's extremely possible that the family found dumb things to say to him because, y'know, clearly it's impossible to hurt a kid's feelings if you're arrogant enough about it. And like Kyouko says, you can't really judge someone's family situation based on their behavior, and vice versa. I'd expect Hiro to be super well-adjusted, coming from a loving nuclear family, but kids are people and they will turn out how they turn out both because of and in spite of how they're raised. And maybe Hiro's experienced some bullying about whatever, and his instant sharp-tongued retorts became the default in response to that. Hiro didn't tell us any of this, but who knows!

Or maybe Hiro's difficult phase is just a phase. Maybe that's how all his classmates talk to each other?? I can easily see that being a thing, especially with boys, both friendly with friends or aggressive with people you want to treat badly, and maybe Hiro's so much in the habit of it that he doesn't think first (and doesn't care enough about Tohru and her feelings to exercise a little self-control). Like this post that points out how it's a Definite Thing that part of Hiro's lording-little-brat arrogance is because he's in his final year of elementary school and he's everyone's senpai and that sort of thing is indulged because adults know he'll get cruelly humbled next year when he's a baby kouhai.

But I think maybe, what's most relevant with Hiro, is that because of his lack of obvious outside factors to fight against for personal growth, his growing pains as a character are internal. He's fighting against himself. AKA, it's only logical that he's a tiny little shit and his character arc is about growing into someone who isn't a jerkface. Which can be just as difficult and traumatic as standing up to your parents, or Akito, or society, or your classmates. Hiro has to assert himself against himself, and himself won't punch him in the face or lock him in his room but it's so easy to just put the blame elsewhere and let himself get away with it and give him a pass and stop trying to improve.

Now I wanna analyze the timeline!

Aside from a few select Zodiac members, Akito hasn't really done anything super terrible that we've heard about until Hiro's in 3rd grade. That's when Hatori and Kana ask to get married, and Hatori gets injured. Akito has been a jerk before, and Akito is very clearly in favor of a hierarchy that puts God at the top getting all the love. But Shigure and Ayame have talked about their sexcapades with no issue, and Kagura's always going on about her undying love for and future marriage with Kyou, and this is the first incident that says those things aren't allowed.

Sometime not terribly long after that, Shigure gets kicked out of the Main House. This ramps up Akito's hatred of women, though Hiro wouldn't know the betrayal behind it and might not have a clue about Akito's vendetta.

Right about the time Hiro starts 6th grade, he feels compelled to tell Akito that he has feelings for Kisa. (I'm pulling this from the Collector's Edition timeline. In the actual story I keep seeing the English being like "I always thought Hiro hated me / I thought Hiro hated me for a long time" with Kisa then immediately turning around and saying "We were bffs all through my elementary school years / Hiro always played with me until this year", so I heavily suspect the translators keep getting a modifier in the wrong place or something because wtf.) Akito kicks Kisa's ass and Kisa takes two weeks to heal. (This isn't Akito's fault. It's also not Kisa's fault, obviously, because Hiro didn't even tell her yet that he liked her. So that means it's all Hiro's fault.) Hiro's horrified, because he could have had an idea this would be bad but he probably didn't expect it to all be taken out on Kisa. After all, Hatori got hurt, not Kana, and Rin hasn't been pushed out a window yet.

Hiro abruptly cuts off his interaction with Kisa, to protect her from getting punished by Akito again. Kisa goes back to 7th grade, where she's just transitioned from Top Of The Heap Senpai and Just A Child So We Can Let Things Slide to Lowly Kouhai Who Needs To Learn Proper Social Behaviors, and she's being bullied, and her bff won't talk to her, and her Talking Things Out skills are having zero effect, so she just stops talking, and now her mom is upset, and then she starts skipping school, and now her mom is really upset. And Hiro was probably unaware of a lot of this, until it got really bad several months in, since he stopped seeing his bff.

And Hiro's agonizing and worrying about it, when suddenly Tohru swoops in and magically saves the day, bringing hope where there was none and erasing suffering, right when Hiro was probably nerving himself up to try to help somehow without bringing Akito's wrath back down on Kisa.

Oh I wanna have a tangent about Kisa!

Timeline again, but from Kisa's point of view:

Kisa and Hiro are only a year apart, so they've always been super close. Hiro is her bff.

Now Kisa is starting 7th grade.

Kisa does something Bad. It's not clear what, but it's Bad Enough to make Akito hate her and also seriously beat her up, so that's Pretty Bad.

Actually it's Really Very Bad, because after that Hiro hates her too.

Anyway Kisa's starting 7th grade! Yay! New school, new girls, new pressures. In my personal experience, middle school is when girls are at their nastiest (after they hit high school, they start to chill out. Obviously you still get jerks, because people, but there was a little more "live and let live" attitude), so I always assume this is part of the problem. Kisa's classmates start to bully her. Kisa tries out her conflict resolution skills, like the adult she's expected to be becoming, and it only causes the situation to escalate. Her self-esteem has already had the crap kicked out of it, and hasn't healed in 2+ weeks. Her bff hates her and won't talk to her.

And then Kisa just gives up without telling anyone why.

Tohru's got a very valid point, that it's hard to talk about the things that actually bother you. It's hard to ask for help. I can complain all day long about little things, but I can't put big issues into words without spontaneously bawling? Which is really fricken embarrassing???

But I think the reason Tohru strikes such a chord with Kisa, and is able to instantly win her over, is because she talks with such quiet feeling about being scared her mom wouldn't love her anymore. Because that feeling was very, very real for Tohru--grounded in the fact that Kyouko actually did abandon her once.

And Kisa recognized that, and realized that Tohru--unlike everyone else--actually got it, because that's exactly what Kisa's feeling. Because Kisa's gotten along with her mother very well all her life, if what we see of her with Hiro is any indication. Except that suddenly Akito hates her. Suddenly Hiro hates her. It's a very real fear, once Kisa's mom starts getting stressed about the not-talking, that Kisa's mom is going to stop loving her just like everyone else is suddenly doing. Because that's literally what's happening to Kisa.

Tohru's not just a warm, loving, accepting, motherly presence. Tohru's someone who can very viscerally relate to Kisa's terror. Of course Kisa clings to her.

Back to Hiro though!

I think we could also stand to apply to Hiro the tried-and-true, "The things you hate most in other people are the things you hate most about yourself," because it is both true in general and a definite thing Fruits Basket does (for a quick example, see Yuki saying he hates dependent people [while Kyou's like "that's you tho"] and Rin hating Yuki [because he's dependent on Haru the way she is guiltly dependent on Haru]).

I went to rewatch the episode to look at all the specific things Hiro says about Tohru and other people, only to realize the obvious flaw that like everything he says is an insult and there's too much there for me to unpack here, so I chose just a few statements that were really specifically phrased (I can't stand people who X).

I can't stand people who let themselves be pushed around so easily

Hiro also talks a couple times about Tohru having no sense of identity or agency, or not having thoughts of her own. So this reveals Hiro's inner struggle with his own complacency. He's got that bond with Akito, he's got a life that's at least partly set in stone already for him, and he's not doing anything to fight it. He didn't hide his feelings for Kisa from Akito, and then when Kisa got hurt Hiro never told her why ("It's my fault because I told Akito I like you and that made him mad, it's nothing you did") and never called Akito out on it (he can't blame Akito but when he talks about it you can tell he also knows he should blame Akito because Hiro can figure out that that was wrong. Maybe because, unlike so many others of the Zodiac, he was raised in a sensible and loving family and he knows that Akito's behavior isn't normal, isn't right, isn't acceptable).

This is probably why, even while using "I'm just a kid" to get away with his behavior, he's so frustrated with not being an adult. Because, to him, an adult wouldn't just let these things happen. He's wrong, on one hand, but on the other hand the maturity that will come with his personal growth will let him be the kind of adult he envisions.

I can't stand inconsiderate people

Hiro knows he's a jerk. He knows his snappy retorts piss people off--he enjoys that. He's super jealous about Tohru and doesn't care about her feelings, and him taking his anger out on Tohru has been hurting Kisa's feelings and that hasn't caused Hiro to check himself yet either.

He knows this, he hates this, he's not ready to deal with it yet and exercise self-control, so he's the niceness police about other people being rude.

(I think it's interesting that, when Hiro starts maturing, even though he still has that tendency to rudeness, there's also a hint that it will one day turn into a frankness that isn't just "a blunt insult is the same as honesty right?" That time when Hiro realizes that Kyou and Tohru have Feelings and he's like "Um, wait, is that okay? Are we just not going to talk about the fact that Kyou is going to be locked up alone in a room for the rest of his life???" He asks the tough questions lol. I won't give him credit for bringing up Tohru's dad issues because he was just doing that to be a dick, there was zero maturity there. In another world, though, he would've been the only other person besides Kyou [who already knew the details] to think to question Tohru about it.)

People who whine about their situation while accepting no responsibility are so irritating

Again...Hiro hates the whole situation that happened with Kisa, and hates his part in it, and didn't do anything to fix it before Tohru came along. And even then, he still hasn't fessed up to Kisa about the real circumstances. He knows he owes Kisa that, and he hasn't taken responsibility yet.

This ties into the complacency issue, but with the added fact that Hiro's said it's shitty and unfair but still is going along with it without trying to stop it. So he's an extra jerk, but he still hasn't stepped up yet.

I think maybe this is why Tohru's speech touches him, even after he just called her out on magical Mary Sue emotional healing powers. He's been nothing but his worst self around Tohru--bad enough that it's not only just Tohru but Kisa he's been upsetting as well--he's been bratty and insulting and pushed Tohru around and stolen her property and treated her like shit and--

And instead of rolling her eyes, or getting fed up and firing back, or any other response that show her low expectations for Hiro…

Tohru just stands there and says it's brave, to admit you have flaws, and that she has faith that he can and will make good on his responsibilities. Even though nothing at all that Hiro's done--and he's very well aware of this--gives any indication that he would even try. Let alone succeed.

The way that Hiro, when people call him a brat, tends to then embrace it and get even brattier--this makes me think he's the kind of kid who lives down to people's expectations, rather than trying to prove them wrong. So when Tohru without hesitation sets the bar high like that, and it pisses Hiro off--

He's gonna show you, stupid woman. You think he's a prince? You're gonna be floored at the kind of prince he'll be.

(Eventually. Much later.)

Worm 2.3 - In which Taylor has the best day ever

I didn’t have any time to contemplate the message I’d received from Tattletale.  The bell rang and I had to hurry to properly log off and shut down before heading to my next class.  As I gathered my stuff, I realized I had been so caught up in researching on the villains I’d met last night and in Tattletale’s message that I had forgotten to worry about getting into trouble for skipping class.  I felt a kind of resignation as I realized I would have to face the music later in the day, anyways.

Time flies when you’re having fun, or at least reading about interesting stuff. Like the fact that a member of a villanous group maaay or may not have solicited a meetup.

Also the classes you missed would eventually come back around to bite you, so it’s better that it happens now.

Madison was already in her seat as I got to the classroom.  She had a pair of girls crouching by either side of her desk, and all three of them broke into giggles as they saw me.  Bitches.

Ugh. What a great start to the next class. This is going to suck.

My seat of choice was the far right, front row, closest to the door. Lunch hour and immediately after school was when the trio tended to give me the hardest time, so I tried to sit as close as possible to the door, for a quick escape.  I spotted a puddle of orange juice on the seat, with the empty plastic bottle lying just underneath the chair.   Madison was going for a two for one.  It was both a ‘prank’ and a reminder of how they had doused me with juice and soft drinks last Friday.  Irritated, I carefully avoided looking at  Madison and took an empty seat a few rows back.

Taylor don’t you know that’s not the seat where the protagonist must be? Read up on your tropes!

Also uuuuugghhhh, the bitches supreme continue with their pathetic teasing bullshit.

Mr Gladly entered the room, he was short and young enough you could almost mistake him for another high school student.  It took a few minutes for him to start the class, and he immediately ordered us to break into groups of four to share our homework with one another and to prepare to share it with the rest of the class.  The group that had the most to contribute would win the prize he had mentioned on Friday, treats from the vending machine.

Oh and this is great too!

Honestly, the less palsy and group exercise-y my teachers are, the better. I don’t like having to do weird assignments and then share it with everybody else. The introvert in me dies a violent death thinking about it.

It was stuff like this that made Mr. Gladly my least favorite teacher.  I got the impression he’d be surprised to hear he was anyone’s least favorite teacher, but that was just one more point against him in my book.  I don’t think he comprehended why people might not like him, or how miserable group work was when you didn’t identify with any of the groups or cliques in the school.  He just figured people liked doing group work because it let them talk and hang out with their friends in class.

Seems like Taylor agrees with me! Sometimes it can be fun, but yeaaaah.

While the class got sorted, I figured I’d avoid standing around like a loser with no group to join and get something else out of the way. I approached the desk at the front of the room.

“Mr. Gladly?”

“Call me Mr. G.  Mr. Gladly is my dad,” he informed me with a sort of mock sternness.

Oh god he just did that.

“Sorry, uh, Mr. G.  I need a new textbook.”

He gave me a curious look, “What happened to your old one?”

Soaked with grape juice by a trio of harpies.  “I lost it,” I lied.

“Replacement textbooks are thirty five dollars.  I don’t expect it now, but…”

“I’ll have it for you by the end of the week,” I finished for him.

Taylor don’t lie about these things. He probably won’t do jack shit, but downplaying your situation isn’t a good thing to do!

He handed me a textbook, and I looked over the room before joining the only group with room for more: Sparky and Greg.  We had been in a group several times before, as the leftovers when all the friends and cliques had banded together.

At least you have company....?

Sparky and Greg sounds like a comedy duo, honestly.

Sparky had apparently picked up his nickname when a third grade teacher used it in an ironic sense, and it had stuck, to the point where I doubted anyone but his own mother even knew his real name.  He was a drummer, long haired, and was so out of touch with reality that you could stop talking in the middle of a sentence and he wouldn’t notice.   He just went through life in a daze, presumably until he could do his thing, which was his band.

Fun fact, the “nickname becoming his only name” is a real thing. We had a classmate we just called Pan, and I don’t know where that originated from, but it wasn’t his real name or even close. I don’t think we ever knew his real name...

School is weird.

Also he seems veeery zoned out, holy shit. This one won’t contribute anything to the group project, huh?

Greg was just the opposite.  He was smarter than average, but he had a way of saying every thought that came into his head – his train of thought didn’t have any brakes.  Or tracks.  It would have been easier to be in a group with just Sparky and essentially do the work by myself than it would be to work with Greg.

I have met a Greg. I have met at least two Gregs. We all have probably met a Greg somewhere

So we have a chillaxed drummer and an overeager fuckup. Looks like it’s time to begin the classic show “Let’s to this group essay by ourselves!”

Yaay!

I got my share of the homework out of my new backpack.  Mr. Gladly had asked us to come up with a list of ways that capes had influenced society.  In between the various steps of my getting ready for my first night out in costume, I had taken the time to fix up my art project and had come up with a fairly comprehensive list for Mr. Gladly’s homework. I had even used newspaper and magazine clippings to support my points. I felt pretty good about it.

Taylor is pretty efficient about her work, I like it.

A way in which it has influenced society is that now instead of normal crime bosses, we have regenarative metal-scaled hellfire-spewing living human dragon crime bosses. Don’t ask me how I know or why I smell of ash and smoke.

“I didn’t get much done,” Greg said, “I got distracted by this new game I got and it is really really good, it’s called Space Opera, have you played it?”

Oh--Ohno

Greg no

A full minute later he was still on the same topic, even though I wasn’t playing any attention to him or giving him any feedback on what he was saying, “…you have to understand it’s a genre, and it’s one I’ve really been getting into it lately, since I started watching this anime called – Oh, hey, Julia!”  Greg broke off from his monologue to wave with enough energy and excitement that I felt a little embarrassed to just be sitting next to him.  I turned in my seat to see one of Madison’s friends coming in, late.

Oh god this boy is a walking human disaster.

“Can I be in Madison’s group?” Julia asked Mr. Gladly.

“That wouldn’t be fair.  Greg’s group only has three people.  Help them,” Mr. Gladly said.

Julia walked over to where we were sitting and made a face.  Just loud enough for us to hear, she muttered a disgusted, “Ew.”  I felt much the same about her joining us.

nooooooo

The bad situation got even worse!!

Whyyyy

It was downhill from there.  Madison’s group moved so the four of them were sitting right next to our group, which let Julia talk with them while still sitting with us.  The presence of all the popular and attractive girls in the class just got Greg more wound up, and he began trying to insert himself into their conversation, only to get shut down or ignored.  It was embarrassing to watch.

Well this class is being all around fantastic.

If the bitches are the apocalypse then Greg is blowing the fucking trumpets.

“Greg,” I said, trying to distract him from the other group, “Here’s what I did over the weekend.  What do you think?”

I handed him the work I had done.  To his credit, he gave it a serious read.

“This is really good, Taylor,” He said, when he was done.

“Let me see,” Julia said.  Before I could stop him, Greg dutifully handed my work over to her.  I watched her glance over it, then toss it onto Madison’s table.  There were a few giggles.

NO

“Give that back,” I said.

“Give what back?” Julia said.

“Madison,” I said, ignoring Julia, “Give it back.”

Madison, cute and petite and crush of choice for half the guys in our grade, turned and managed a combined look and tone of such condescension that a grown man would have flinched, “Nobody is talking to you, Taylor.”

Aaaaaaaaaaaaa

Why are they the worst! They are masterful at being the worst!!

That was that.  Short of running to the teacher and complaining, I wasn’t going to get my work back, and anyone who considered that an option has clearly never been in high school.  Greg looked between me and the girls with a kind of panic before settling into a funk, Sparky had his head down on his desk, either asleep or close to it, and I was left fuming.  I made an attempt at trying to to salvage things, but getting Greg to focus was impossible, as he constantly tried to apologize and made lame attempts to convince the other group to give my work back.  Our time ran out, and Mr. Gladly picked out people from each group to stand up and go over what they had come up with.

*flips an infinite number of tables*

This is painful and very realistic at the same time! You sure know how to evoke gigantic feelings of frustration, Wildbow!

I sighed as Mr. Gladly picked Greg to do our group’s presentation, and was forced to watch Greg botch it badly enough that Mr. Gladly asked him to sit down before he was finished.  Greg was one of those kids I always figured made teachers groan inwardly when they raised their hands in class.  The sort of kid that took twice as long to answer as anyone else, and was often only half-right or so off-tangent that it derailed the discussion.  I couldn’t imagine what had possessed Mr. Gladly to pick Greg to do our group’s presentation.

And of course Greg is the one picked! Of couuurse.

The universe is a petty bitch like that.

Honestly Taylor, the fact that you haven’t said fuck it, and gone Exodus on the school is proof that you are a good person.

What made things worse was that I then got to watch Madison rattle off my very impressive sounding list of ways capes had changed the world.  She cribbed almost all of my stuff; fashion, economics, Tinkers and the tech boom, the fact that movies, television and magazines had been tweaked to accommodate cape celebrities, and so on.  Still, she got it wrong when explaining how law enforcement had changed.  My point had been that with qualified capes easing the workload and taking over for most high profile crises, law enforcement of all stripes were more free to train and expand their skill sets, making for smarter, more versatile cops.  Madison just made it sound like they got a lot of vacation days.

Oh fuck off Madison! At least you explained it wrong, you absolute dick.

This is just the “Taylor’s life sucks” episode, isn’t it?

Mr. Gladly named another group as the winners, by virtue of the sheer number of things they had come up with, though he made a point of saying the quality of Madison’s work was nearly good enough to count.  From there, he moved on to his lecture.

At least she didn’t win. There is some justice in the world.

A pitiful, insignificant amount...

I was steamed and I could hardly focus on the lecture, as my power crackled and tugged at my attention from the periphery of my consciousness, making me acutely aware of every bug within a tenth of a mile.  I could tune it out, but the extra concentration that took, coupled with the anger I felt towards Madison and Mr. Gladly, was distracting enough that I couldn’t focus on the lecture.  I took a cue from Sparky and put my head down on the desk.  Being as exhausted from the previous night’s activity as I was, it was all I could do to keep from dozing off.  Still, spending the class half asleep made it go by faster.  I was startled when the bell rang.

Oh shit her powers get more powerful or precise when she’s pissed off! That is very interesting

At least she can keep it in check and not have a bee accidentally give the Lung treatment of stinger to eyeball to some of these wonderful individuals.

As everyone gathered their things and began to file out, Mr. Gladly approached me and quietly said, “I’d like you to stick around for a few minutes, please.”

I just nodded and put my books away, then waited for the teacher to finish negotiating where to meet the prize winners from the class contest so he could pay for their prizes.

When it was just me and Mr. Gladly in the classroom, he cleared his throat and then told me, “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Okay,” I replied, not sure how to respond.

!!! Is Mr. Gladly actually going to do something?!

Nice!! Good on you, Gladly, for bringing this up!

“I have something of an idea of what goes on in my classroom.  I don’t know exactly who, but I know some people are giving you a pretty hard time.”

“Sure,” I said.

“I saw the mess left on your usual seat today.  I remember a few weeks back when glue was smeared on your desk and chair.  There was also the incident that happened at the start of the year.  All of your teachers had a meeting about that.”

I couldn’t meet his gaze as he brought that last event up.  I looked at my feet.

“And I’m guessing there’s more that I don’t know about?”

Please talk about it Taylor, this cannot continue like this.

“Yeah,” I said, still looking down.  It was hard to explain how I felt about this conversation.  I was gratified, I think, that someone had brought it up, but annoyed that that someone was Mr. Gladly.  I felt kind of embarrassed too, like I had walked into a door and someone was trying too hard to make sure I was okay.

“I asked you after the glue incident.  I’m asking you again.  Would you be willing to go to the office with me, to talk with the principal and vice principal?”

Ow, Taylor you poor thing! I know exactly how you’re feeling and how much it sucks, but this situation merits the genuine concern!

It is not shameful to need help

After a few moments of consideration, I looked up and asked him, “What would happen?”

“We’d have a discussion about what’s been going on.  You would name the person or people you believe responsible, and each of them would be called in to talk to the principal, in turn.”

“And they’d get expelled?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Mr. Gladly shook his head, “If there was enough proof, they would be suspended for several days, unless they’ve done something very serious. Further offenses could lead to longer suspensions or expulsion.”

...A several day suspension isn’t going to do shit.

I gave a rueful chuckle, feeling the frustration welling up, “Great.  So they might miss a few days of school, and only if I can prove they were behind it all… and whether they get suspended or not, they feel a hundred percent justified in whatever else they do to the rat for revenge.”

Yeaah Taylor is right here. This is just going to backfire.

“If you want things to get better, Taylor, you have to start somewhere.”

“That isn’t a starting point.  It’s shooting myself in the foot,” I said, pulling my bag over my shoulder.  When he didn’t immediately respond, I left the classroom.

I have to say, they really managed to capture how schools can be Agressively, Gloriously Useless in issues like this a lot of the time

Emma, Madison, Sophia and a half dozen other girls were standing in the hall, waiting for me.

Oh my god it keeps getting worse!

How does it keep getting worse!!