#EXCITED JITTERS AHHHHHH

[catmandewz]

literally 3 days away from the con and im being absolutely fucking feral about my appearance… gotta make sure i look as perfect as possible in cosplay

[tojisun]

https://www.tumblr.com/tojisun/739286806700376064/as-a-strange-little-dude-who-collects-bones-im or hear me out…Soap with a little true crime/ conspiracy theory gf! He’d totally get behind the deep dives trying to find the truth!

AHHHHHH YEA I SEE IT I SEE THE VISION!!

shes a goth girl into true crimes/conspiracies!! (esp after how he and bimbo!reader have this conspiracy talk sesh happening?? he’s definitely falling for a true crime/conspiracy theory gf!!)

giggling imagining johnny and his gf (you) hiding from each other their… interest (borderline obsession tbh) because they’re both afraid of being judged. so you know, they’d watch these movies that kinda deal with conspiracies or the main character is being targeted by a serial killer and they’re vibrating on their seats, both holding back from exploding in jittered excitement because they wanna be the chill partner, ykyk?

well, one day, johnny forgot to wheel away his whiteboard of conspiracies (currently, he’s trying to prove that pigeons are govt spies) and you come home to see this board with detailed analyses and accounts; dates are underlined with a red marker, while a blue marker was used to write the names of people who have been “silenced” after “exposing” the “truth” about pigeons. it’s lacking a red string that connects one case to another, but that’s only because johnny was using washytape — the designs are, ironically, birds.

johnny’s in the kitchen, preparing dinner, when he remembers what he forgot; he skids to the living room, hoping to salvage a piece of his dignity, only to see you standing in front of the board, your mouth agape.

“i can explain,” he starts, cringing to himself at hearing just how more suspicious that sounded. “i-”

“oh my god, jock,” you say, breathless in your own excitement. “oh. my. god. jock!”

“what?” johnny asks, confusion now triumphing over his mortification because if you’re still using his nickname, then that must mean things are okay, right?

“wait here!” you scream before turning to run to your room. you flung your bag to the carpet where it sags like a sad potato sack. johnny picks it up and hides it in the closet.

he waits like promised, fiddling with his thumbs while shooting looks between where you’ve ran off to and the board. he rereads some anecdotes, his mind running on overdrive, before snapping his head up at hearing the sound of your feet padding back towards him.

you have about three leather-bound notebooks clutched in your embrace, two of which look worn, while the other it still quite crisp. his nose wrinkles in confusion but johnny decides to wait it out, trusting you to take over.

you fall to the carpet, crowding the coffee table, before urging him to sit beside you. johnny does, his legs knocking against each other as he crouches down and shuffles to move closer to you. he watches as you lay out your notebooks, hands gentle as you begin to flip through the pages.

johnny still feels so lost as to what’s going on.

“mo luaidh?” he asks.

you hum in question, still focused on finding a specific page, he guesses.

“what’re you lookin’ for?”

“oh, just- ah! here!” then you’re thrusting your notebook to him.

johnny takes it with care, his eyes flitting through the pages — “to what end is it satirical? what if, amidst the jokes, the government began to use it in actuality? what if they began to capitalize on it? what if we had given them an excuse to hide behind? had we served them a cover on a silver platter? how do we trust that they’re not conniving enough to truly take advantage of this? ‘birds aren’t real’ but to what extent?”

“what-” johnny’s voice peters. “holy shit?”

he whirls to look up at you. “is this-”

“yes!” you say, giggling. “i thought it was just me!”

johnny drops your notebook back on the table to pluck you from where you sat and plop you on his lap. you laugh when he begins to pepper kisses across your face, exaggerated smooching-noises ringing between you two.

(his office gains another whiteboard.)

—

i went fuckin bonkers again aeojdajef forgive me!!!

ikik the pigeon conspiracy is mostly a parody atp but its just. funny hehaeejr

[iguessihavemore]

Garden Chap. 1 Not Your Garden Variety Pt.1

Ahhhhhh yessss. A smaller chapter because I Do Not Trust tumblr yet with big big posts. Enjoy folks!

“This is the best day ever! WOOHOO!” Chris cheered, hopping up with both feet off the ground. He held a cellphone in one hand. “I knew I was right! Take that!” He threw it down in a celebratory-football way, and it shattered instantly. Chris clearly didn’t care at all.

“Uh….” Someone voiced behind the camera, and it went dark.

----

“This show is MINE, baby. Ain’t NO ONE can tell me how to run it but ME.” Chris continued to dance, after who knows how long the video was off. Several groans resounded this time, and cut to black again.

----

The host cleared his throat. “Heyo, and welcome to the next instalment of Total Drama!” He was still buzzing from excitement. The camera seemed to jitter and focus happily, having not expected this to be a viable take. “We’ve got a fresh change of atmosphere- a REALLY big change, try not to let it give you a shock. I won’t lie, it’s so new, even I had to wonder, ‘oh my god, producers, what are you thinking??’” He shook his hands, face scrunched up. He loosened up. “But not to fear, despite what I once thought until this moment, we can still torture these contestants at will. And by we, I MEAN ME-” 

For once he caught himself, and rapidly switched back to his calm tone. “The only difference this time around is that it’ll be prettier or something? They wanted an exercise on how much the puke and mud was really drawing in an audience.” Chris rolled his eyes. “So now we have a whole season without it. It’s AeStHeTiC, they said.”

Drawing back, he was standing on a bright green plot of grass. Decorative stones littered the ground like tiny pathways. A white birch archway behind him blocked the view of the rest of the garden with green tubes hanging from it like a curtain. To the right, an odd, unappealing to look at, massive flower bulb sat sideways on stilts, the bottom end of it connected to a wide tube that trailed off-screen. To the left was the beginning of a woodwalk, that also went out a view. “This season, we decided to let the contestants themselves decide how they wanted to be introduced. As stupid adreneline junkies,” He gestured to the tube contraption. “As boring and basic,” He held a hand near his head and looked back, referring to the archway. “Or as pretentious wannabes.” As he said this, he brought a hand to his eyes and smiled down the walkway. “Speaking of which, here comes our first one!”

The wooden planks led to a serene lake. A gondolier was just finishing up rowing up to the little dock. The contestant sitting at the other end, who at first glance gave off a brunette Barbie vibe, delicately eyed the scenery. She stepped from the boat and waved pleasantly at the man who had brought her, mouthing a ‘thank you.’ He had too much facial hair to see if he cared, and simply pushed off. The girl didn’t mind, smiling forward with glossy light-pink lips, batting her lightly mascaraed, blue eyes in every new direction she looked in.

“Hello Chris, it’s a pleasure.” She gave a bow-curtsy, feminine but not wearing a skirt. Chris and her shared a smile. “And I mean it. How lucky of me to be accepted into the best of the seasons.” She straightened, folding her hands at her hips. She had on a white blouse with the slightly poofy sleeves and single button at the collar, tucked into blue jeans, and white ballet flats she pointed with an arbitrary delicacy.

“Nice to have you here, Amelia. And, hey, if you say so.” He put on a grudging tone that was the total opposite of before.

She giggled, her arms bouncing lightly and jostling her auburn hair, curled to shoulder length. “Never fear, with my thespian roots, I’ll personally ensure you all have something to look forward to, even without your beloved explosions.” She placed a flamboyant hand to her collar.

“Well, we’ll see.” Chris motioned for her to step to the side, and she did so. He walked to the other end near the bulb, winking at the camera with a toothy grin while she couldn’t see.

“Next contestant, you can come out now.” He called to the curtained archway.

“Oh hell yeah, baby.” Two brown-greyish hands poked out between the garden hose-like tubes, quickly thrusting them to the sides, tossing the curtain around her in a grand entrance. Amelia laughed supportingly as the girl took a long stride forward, and then went shock-silent when one of the tubes coiled around the girl’s arm on it’s way back down, snagged her, and threw her face down into the ground.

The girl, hair a combo of dark purple to neon green sprawled around her head, laid there silently for awhile. Amelia couldn’t help but laugh quieter and more awkwardly. In a single move, the girl drenched mostly in black clothing sprung to her sneakered feet, hands already on her hips like nothing had happened, sans the green hose still tied to her upper arm. “It’s Cameron!” She beamed.

“Yes it is!” Chris agreed, letting her wipeout speak for itself. “How’s Cameron ready for this season?”

Before she answered, she unknotted her leather jacket sleeve from the hose with her tongue sticking out, fussily tossing it to the ground since she’d unknowingly ripped it from the birch. She went back to her previous attitude in an instant. “Oh, I’m ready. I have the power of ghosts and, heck, maybe even god on my side.” She did a wide, ninjitsu-esque move. “Eh, who am I kidding. More likely Satan, but he’s more of a bro than you’d think.” She smiled cockily, etching up her two facial moles (on her cheek and upper lip), and folded pink eyes.

“Whoo boy, sounds like we’re in for a ride with you.” Amelia spoke up as Cameron came to her side. Her hair could now fall in its intended long-in-the-front bob.

“You betcha!” She winked, making a single finger-gun. She took in a deep, content breath, and then her entire person relaxed. Putting her hands in her jacket pockets, she said, “Okay, I’m done.” Her boxy-jacketed, legging-clad body shifted to the side comfortably.

“Much obliged,” Chris nodded, happy to not need to force them to shut up just yet. “Now for my favorite of the bunch, the sliders, give a warm welcome to Paulie!”

“AAAAAAAHHHHH-” A husky voice screamed as a dark shadow filled the inside of the tube, rocketing downwards. Once at the end, the bulb contracted slightly and spat out the next contestant. She flew with a shock of coiled, lime green hair, legs kicking desperately. She was lean, but definitely top heavy, dancing on her bright pink and black sneakers with a war cry of “AHHYAYAYA”

She finally came to a stop, knees wobbly and pointed at each other, but upright nevertheless. She gasped deeply, with a happy scoff mixed in. “You- you thought.” She shakily pointed at Chris with pride.

The host, with a smile, snapped his fingers in a disappointed manner. “Hopefully you can keep up those good plays.”

The dark skinned girl rose fully. She had a simple black T-shirt, dark blue ripped jeans, a shiny silver ring pierced in her right nostril, an array of various rings lining both her ears, an X on her cheek made of simple bandaids, and a black bandana at the base of her scalp, lighting it up with a bright red-and-yellow flame decal. She tilted forward, staring excitedly with her round, rusty-red eyes and a broad smile parting her thick, skin-colored lips. “You are so not ready for me.” She insisted.

“Guess all that’s left for us is to pray, then.” Amelia mock-sighed. Paulie turned, her arms and what could be seen of her knees littered in faint scars. She gasped.

“SAME HAIR DYE!!” She yelled, a dull-nailed finger was pointed at Cameron’s head.

“Lime Crime??” Cameron questioned. Paulie screamed in agreement. Cameron screamed back, and they jumped at each other with open palms. It’s good that they went at each other with equal force, or one of them would have been high-fived into the next dimension.

Amelia laughed with the enthusiasm they radiated. “You guys would be fantastic in theater.”

The trio hushed as Chris made his way over, ready to introduce the next teenager. This one was also arriving by boat, and was just as bright-eyed to see the pretty destination as Amelia had been, if not more so. She hopped off the gondola and also thanked the ferryman, who this time gave a very slight nod.

“Hellooo, Marina!” Chris called, waving his hand.

“Hi Chris!” The girl called back, with big, dark, lemon shaped eyes. She had thick, wavy dark hair that reached right under her neck. Her bangs parted at the center, tucked behind her ears. A soft pink dress flowed around her brown skin and she walked down the path with a quickened pace. Her dusty-pink flats stopped as she got to their congregation, the lacy skirt of her dress resting at her knees, a small bit of dusty-pink leggings peeking out just past it.

Chris patted his knees and bent to her eye level. “Dressed for the occasion, aren’t you?” He commented, though his nose wrinkled just slightly at the pinkness.

She smiled brightly with her simple mauve lips and thick arched eyebrows. “This is how I always look!” She fiddled with one of the red ribbon bows that made up her sleeves, the top portion of her dress printed with a big red heart center-focus. “I’m glad to hear it happens to be fitting for the season, though.” She had freckles littered between her eyes right above her button nose.

“Girly-girls unite!” Amelia laughed and knelt down just a bit, holding her hand out. Marina flashed a smile and high-fived her, but it held nowhere near the flair than the previous one.

“I kinda hope I’m just as fitting, too...” Marina thought aloud, idly tapping her fingers.

“Ah! Ha ha.” Chris leaned back with his hands on his hips. “Yeah. We’ll see.” He said non-committedly, not wanting to show his cards so soon. Marina’s eyebrows flipped, but she didn’t let up on her smile.

“Next up? Come on out.” He called towards the archway.

This person held a tan hand out between the hose curtain, sweeping enough aside to step through. She stared out blankly for a moment, then smiled lazily with dark grey lips. She passed into the pretty clearing, her black platform boots a stark contrast to the pastel greenery. Her entire outfit- a simple black corset over a modest grey dress that went to her neck, just past her elbows, and right above her knees with a pleated shard look- was a contrast to the whole current setting.

“I’m J-” She began to introduce herself with a soft, low voice.

“How come you didn’t get catapulted to the ground?” Cameron huffed. Everyone but Amelia blinked at her. The newest of the bunch then smirked lightly.

“Did you barge in all gung-ho?” She teased, flicking a wrist that was dressed with a sheer, fingerless glove. Cameron snorted in response.

“Maybe? Who’s to say?” She shrugged. She put a finger to Amelia’s lips, even though she wasn’t going to say anything anyhow.

The gothic girl silently giggled. “Of course. My name’s Jennifer.” She gestured to herself by placing her palm above her bright crystal necklace. Her long, dark brown hair that framed her face swung with her as she regarded Chris solely. Her eyes were constantly relaxed and under a heavy set of lashes, and the cute shape of her face was very familiar. “May I ask what the surprise is, Chris McClain?” She cut right to the chase.

“What are you talking about?” Chris threw his hands in front of him, putting on an annoyed tone. “I wish there was one- I’m gonna die of boredom before this season hits the merge!”

She sighed, “I thought not.” Jennifer rolled her eyes at his insistence.  “Let’s prepare ourselves.” She told the other four girls, coming to stand with them.

“Our next competitor-!” Chris began to pump up for the next person to be shot out of the flower bud shotgun-style. 

However, the streamer curtain behind him exploded with a loud, “Yeah!! That’s me!!”

Chris gasped and clutched at his chest.

“Careful grandpa.” Paulie cocked her head with a smirk as the others laughed.

The host glared over his shoulder at a boy of medium stature, fully clothed in what looked like a black morph suit. “That was not your cue.” He snapped.

The boy, with one of the only visible things of his skin being a strip cut out for his honey brown eyes, squinted one of them. “Yes it was.” He argued simply, as if Chris was the confused one.

Chris opened his mouth, groaned, and pinched his nose. “Roger, everyone.” He flipped his hand lamely. Roger blinked, his eyes curling happily, and rose his arms up once again. One of the tubes, after flapping back, had tied onto his upper arm from the force he arrived with.

“Oh, oh buddy-” Cameron started to speak up.

“So what’s with the…?” Chris leaned towards him, waving his hand in front of his own face.

Roger rose a brow. “Huh?” He asked for clarification. Chris continued to mention the mask in every way but saying ‘mask,’ and Roger continued to be confused, completely drowning out the teenagers who were trying to warn him.

“Why are you hiding your face?” Chris finally said, which must have been enough for Roger to get it.

“Uhhh…” He brought his finger up, fiddling with a bit of bushy brown hair that escaped from his suit. “I don’t know. It’s TV and that’s embarrassing. But I also wear it all the time because it’s embarrassing to be around people when they can see your face. I guess the TV thing is just an excuse-” He lost himself in his musings rather quickly.

“Alright alright.” Chris cut him off, annoyed. “At least we don’t have to see your junk.” He motioned downwards, at the basketball shorts and tanktop Roger was wearing.

The space between his eyes flushed pink. “Uh, yeah. I’m on TV, that’d be so embarrassing! Like in would be in public-”

“Go stand with the others.” Chris cut him off again, eyebrows cinched together. “You’ve just about ruined my groove.”

Roger’s eyebrows curled upwards and he did what he was told silently. “Uh, you’re welcome!” Amelia called to him teasingly. She, Paulie, and Cameron were standing where they would have been behind him. They held up the hose proudly. “You almost fell right on your face!”

Roger looked at the three with wide eyes. “You… you were going to trip me?” He asked softly, betrayed.

They let their mouths hang open for a second, until Chris clapped. “Next contestant for real this time!”

Marina’s shoulders jumped up. “It might be my sister!” She told the others excitedly. “She chose the slide.”

“Yikes,” Paulie winked down at her. It was the first time Marina frowned.

The slide filled with a shadow, a consistent thud thud thud filling the air. The first three to be introduced made way, Marina and Jennifer following their lead, the former with much concern. Jennifer looked over her shoulder and grabbed a spacing Roger by the collar of his shirt, pulling him to the rest of them.

The tip of the petals parted, and a massive figure twirled out feet-first. It landed right in front of where they had all been standing, but they could still feel the impact of this creature landing upright. A lanky stature of a person rose from the squat they landed in, with a slight serpentine manner to a height that towered over the others. “HOWDY!” A chipper voice came out of her, her olive eyes glittering.

“Jesus CHRIST you’re a giant!” Cameron shouted, holding a hand to her head.

The glitter ran dry. “Language, pal-y.” She laughed despite. “And it’s all the camping in me! Made me big and strong!” She flexed her tanned freckled arms, and though not totally muscular, made an impact due to the rest of her being so slim and lanky. Her legs were the same, all her limbs nicked with a small cut and a bump or two. She wore a simple pair of cargo shorts, and a light blue T-shirt with boxy sleeves reaching mid-upper arm. It sported a nondescript summer camp logo on the front. She lunged forward on one sneaker, nearly worn thin, and stretched as she took in the scenery. “Pretty little place! Are we having a tea party?”

“Oh, you better get used to things looking like this,” Chris grinned, “It’s Garden all season.”

“Huh!?” She gasped. “Naw, don’t tell me we won’t have any trees or hills! Come on, don’t tell me!”

Chris rubbed his chin in thought. “Not many... at least, not the kind you’re wanting. You can’t touch those trees.”

“Ummm why’s that-?” Jennifer asked allowed in utter confusion, but was drowned out by the newest arrival.

“Aw Chris, that just isn’t any fair!” She tilted her head, her frizzy dark ponytail flipping with it. “You can’t keep me from cabins, and nature, and campfires, and rivers, and rope tying, and- and-” She listed off fretfully.

Chris shook his hands out in front of him. “Relax! There’s still going to be half of that stuff, and you’ll get a butt-whooping of nature to last you a lifetime, don’t you worry.”

She righted herself, wiping her nose with a sniff. “Chris, that isn’t appropriate. As you’re not an official counselor I suppose I can give you a pass JUST this once, but don’t let me catch you mentioning again…” All of her chipper drawl was gone as she began to chide the host, getting to his level to whisper “Hitting the derriere.”

Chris laughed his absolute head off. “Oh! Rosie! I’m nowhere near a counselor! But keep up that uptight attitude, I love it!”

“Hmhm.” The campy girl squinted with a tight smile. “Yes, I see. Make no worse offenses. Surely even you can manage.”

Chris tried to calm himself as he circled over to the edge of the boardwalk once more.

Rosie felt a light pat on her arm. Marina was looking up at her. “Hey… it’s okay that you didn’t like what he said. Sorry that he laughed at you like that.”

“Aw,” Rosie brightened. “Never you mind- I’m sure Chris has some tight windows to be saying such things, anyway.”

Marina mustered a little smile. “Oh, haha, I’m sure he… I’m sure he does.”

“And next we have…!” Chris motioned to the lonely dock. “...!”

He motioned again. “...!”

“Tsk!” He threw his fists on his hips, staring daggers further down the lake. The gondolier was down on his knees at his end of the boat, clearly pushing the paddle so far down he was pushing off the bottom of the lake to get anywhere. He was sweating bullets, as on the other end, the contestant was such a muscular unit his corner was slightly sunk into the water. “Hmmm…” The host turned away. “He looked smaller in his audition.” He mused to himself.

He moved on to the archway. “Hey, yo, you can come out now Annabelle.”

“Sweet.” A smooth, femme voice said. From behind the tubes came a curtain of its own, made of honey brown hair reaching her lower back. The contestant ducked and straightened from the archway with her hands in the pocket of her grey hoodie, a panther printed on the front. She smiled a small, lazy smile under her hooded hazel eye, her thick coarse hair encasing the other. Light freckles dotted her high cheeks and button nose. Her lips pulled up more as she nodded to the others. “Heya. Nice to meet ‘cha.”

Some of the previous teenagers tried to say something quippy but it got drowned out in the general ‘hey’ they all said back. Annabelle swept her sight over them, and a relief seemed to settle on her calm person. “Looks like I don’t have ta worry about fitting in.” She said fondly. She walked her blue jeans over, and stood next to Paulie nearish the back.

“Okay, looks like Tony finally decided to show up.” Chris didn’t bother walking back to the dock. The blonde contestant, too wide for the dock, was making his way towards them, the ferryman trying to scoop out water from the half-drowned gondola behind him. Instead of safely shimming down the boardwalk, Tony opted to walk with both his feet just halfway on either side of the dock, head-on. The group of them let out a sigh when he finally got to the ground.

“So, Tony, welcome. You excited?” The host asked the pale boy who never skipped arm or leg or torso day.

He curled back his lips, speaking through his teeth. “Yeeeah. Yep.” He paused, and with no change of tone admitted, “I’m scared.”

“Aw, no need to worry. Nothing to fear here, and if you’re camera shy, just turn any amount of degrees and your hulking muscles will block the view!” Chris did his best impression of consoling.

“Mmm… okay.” Tony went over to the others, all of them wide-eyed. They didn’t really strike up conversation like they had when it was Rosie’s height they were aweing, probably because Tony made no effort to notice any of them at all.

“AAAaaand....!” Chris suddenly perked up, turning his beaming face to the slide, now thumping with the next contestant. The bulb contracted, a blur of faint yellow and blue rocketing out. The person attempted to land right, but his tennis shoe only grazed the ground and the rest of him smacked right flat into the dirt.

Marina gasped and threw her hands to her mouth. A few people around her snickered or expressed sympathy, as Chris quickly blocked the way of any of them that moved to help the newcomer. “Welcome to the show, Jackson!”

Jackson lifted his shoulders off the ground, his tongue sticking out as it was covered in grass. He quickly spat as he stood up, displeased and blushed on his light, orange-undertoned skin. He shook his choppy, platinum blonde hair that reached his cheekbones, and blinked at Chris with hazel-green eyes. “Th- thanks. Definitely already feeling it.”

“I should hope so! I have to get my kicks somehow!” Chris beamed, and laughed at it for far too long. “Now, our next competit-” He began to turn away.

“H- hey! Don’t tell me they get to know my name and I don’t get to know theirs’!” Jackson cried incredulously, outstretching his hands to his peers that came before him. “That’s not fair!” He stood in place and wouldn’t move to the gathering quite yet. He was thin, the only thing plumping up his silhouette being his clothes, like his grey sweatpants and open blue hoodie, a black T-shirt underneath.

The host groaned, rolling his head to the side. “Think about that for a second, would ya? Then we’d have to do that for every single person, and that makes no sense-”

“I’m Jennifer.” The gothic girl smiled warmly and waved. She stepped forward to shake Jackson’s hand now that Chris wasn’t standing in the way. Jackson finally brightened. When he smiled, it really showed off his prominent upper lip and cupid’s bow. As he shook her hand back, the others piped in.

“I’m Paulie! Like a parrot.”

“My name’s Marina, nice to meet you!”

“Cameron, ghost hunter!” Cameron thrusted her thumb firmly to herself.

“Annabelle.” Annabelle shrugged, looking away to the side with her small smile.

“T o n y.”

“Amelia.” The thespian did a flashy hand gesture.

“So that’s your guys’ names!” Marina laughed, turning to the first three girls.

“Do you want me to say my name to!?” Roger excitedly asked Jackson, pointing to himself.

Jackson chuckled. “Yeah, man!”

“I’m Roger!” He happily yelled.

“And I’m ROSIE!” Rosie also yelled. “Glad to be here and glad to have you here, camper!”

“Alright!” Jackson moved over and found a place in their gathering.

Chris, his arms dangling in front of him, was scowling at the kids the entire time. “Don’t make that a habit.” He pointed to them. “This section can’t get TOO long.”

Jennifer shrugged unapologetically. “I thought you’d be happy, since it took that long for the next boat to come.”

Chris whirled around in surprise, to find that the gondolier was only just getting to the dock. He’d forgotten about Tony’s complications beforehand. “Whatever.” He huffed when he looked back at the teens.

Once it stopped at the pier, the arrival stood up. She was tall and slim, covered completely in pastels and a pair of thick grey yoga pants. A pale blue hijab wrapped around her brown face, as she looked at the host from a distance, staring blankly. She did not step off the boat.

“Well?” Chris asked her testily.

Pride instantly crossed her features. “This.” She informed.

The girl arched her back and placed her bare hands on the surface of the dock. She lifted her entire body effortlessly from the gondola, standing perfectly straight but upside down and backwards from the others. They let out a unanimous “Oh, woah.” Her black runners pointed into the sky.

Instead of rolling forward and doing a prolonged frontflip sort of thing, she instead curled only her head towards the rest of the cast, lifting up an arm as her legs slowly came down. She tightened her stance, planking in the air on one hand.

“Ha ha! Okay, okay, showoff!” Paulie cheered, clapping louder than everyone else.

She got to her feet and walked over with a smile, a mole present on the left of her upper lip. “I only take that as a compliment.” She said earnestly, regarding the competition with smiling rusty-brown eyes. “Chris! Nice to meet you.” She held her hand out to him. Her mint green shirt flared at the wrist, hanging down between them. Most importantly, it had an adorable panda icon printed on the front. Don’t you dare forget about the cute panda.

“Nooo, you’re making a pact with the devil!” Cameron called out. Behind her, Rosie’s pupils shrunk to pinpoints and almost made a noise due to how fast they glared at her.

“Nice to meet you too, Nadine.” Chris urged the girl on to the others. She nodded and stood towards the side. She was the tallest after Rosie and Tony, who were already taking up the back.

“I, uh…” Roger turned around, a sparkle in his eyes as he looked at her. “Love your, uh…”

Nadine looked him over and guessed in an instant, “My hijab?” She brought her hand to it.

His eyes squinted adoringly as he let in a tiny gasp. “Yes!”

“ROGER, in fact, should have been introduced now,” Chris cut in testily. The boy looked over fearfully, anyone could feel the confusion radiating from him. “But no biggie. ‘Cause now we can get back to the sliiiiiiiiiiiiiide!!!”

The teens began to flinch back and prepare themselves, but Marina ran to the front. “W- wait! Wait, please!” That has to be my sister, but she didn’t know it would be so- so intense!” She stressed to Chris.

“So?” Chris asked cockily. “Any one of these options had a risk- honestly it’s saddening no one stepped on the trick board yet.” He mused.

“Uh, wh- what was that.” Amelia asked.

“Yeah but, Stella, she- she’ll get hurt and not be able to think about much else, and later when she learns that’s how she spent her introduction, she’ll- she’ll be devastated!” Marina clasped her hands in front of her, pleading with the man. The slanted tube began to thump, making her more panicked. “I can’t let that happen to her- isn’t this season suppose to be less dangerous, anyhow!?”

Chris rubbed his stubble, looking away in false thought. “Nothing dangerous about getting your head bumped a little. It’s not my fault you brought me someone who’s easy to embarrass.”

“Hey! That’s not-!” Marina huffed, lamely scowling.

Rosie easily stepped up to the front, crouching down pretty close to the gross bud thing, winking at the pink-clad girl. “No worries, there’s plenty of big guys here to protect you little ‘uns. That’s just how nature is-” She thrusted her fist into her open palm and then threw her hands out in front of her. She looked like the catcher in a game of baseball. “The strong protect the small so we can all have fun!”

“WEEEEEEEEEEEE!” A girl’s voice shrieked as the bulb twitched. It shot her out full speed, and Rosie sprung up. Her arms flew out and caught her loosely, the two spinning around a few times from the pure momentum. After it was all done, Rosie was left standing with a giggling girl face-down in her arms, one around her shoulders and one at her knees. Stella’s own arms were outstretched in front of her, having come out head-first, her eyes sealed shut from her glee. “HA HA HA!”

Rosie smiled down at her, flipping her over effortlessly so that she was facing upwards, still in her hold. A latina girl with high thin eyebrows and a huge gaping smile greeted her and she couldn’t help but laugh back, sharing the excitement. Rosie finally set the girl on her yellow converse-d feet.

Stella now moved her hands over her stomach, still giggling. She had curly, dark caramel hair with a few lighter highlights reaching right to her shoulder blades, a long yellow ribbon tied in a bow behind her. Her nose was round and had a semi-prominent bridge; her bangs were parted in the center but some shorter bits hung over her forehead near her eyes. Her outfit consisted of a pale yellow scoopneck T-shirt that went to her elbows and sported a glittery, swirly pattern of a big crown and the cursive word ‘Princess,’ ending just above her belly button, a pair of navy green shorts held to her hips with a black belt with a golden buckle, unrolled socks with a single gold stripe at the tops, a copper-plated necklace, and several colorful bandaids stuck to her calves if they counted.

“Stella!” Marina said happily, coming to give her sister a small embrace. She then turned to the campy gal. “Thank you.”

“Aw!” Rosie waved her hand dismissively. Stella was clearly still laughing to herself as she walked with Marina to the gathering, but was silent.

“You can say hi to the others when you’re ready.” Marina told her. It was hard to tell if her sister heard her or not. “They’re really nice so far, you’re going to love them.” Stella audibly chuckled for a moment at that. The rest of the teens mostly kindly, silently regarded her, and a few said ‘hi.’

“Welp, that was the last of my favorite entrance.” Chris mourned. “I liked how it ended, though. Very loud, very flashy.” He rubbed his hands together. “I hope the last boardwalk person is gonna give me a show…” He uttered with an eager darkness.

The twelve current competitors turned at once to the dock, causing the ghastly pale person making their way down the dock stop in their tracks. The newbie and everyone on the grass seemed to be having a staring match, but the solo person was clearly just confused. They finally- while sweating bullets- walked the rest of the way, pink pupils darting everywhere for some sort of answer.

Chris groaned loudly, head rocked all the way back.

The albino standing before them brought a finger to their round chin, their downturned eyes staring out of their rectangular glasses. “Did I- did I already mess up?” They joked nervously, but was obviously also really worried.

“NO.” Chris grumped, crossing his arms like a child. “Welcome to the Garden, Jupiter. Hopefully everything comes EASY to you. Hope it’s all sunshine and daisies for YOU.”

Jupiter had no idea what to make of that. They had a simple shoulder-length hairstyle with their white, smooth, thin hair- it fell straight down and curled a bit at the ends. A button nose, and hands clasped tightly in front of them. “Thank you.” They muttered in fear.

“Shucks, looks like you got favoritism already.” Annabelle winked at the newcomer.

They wavered a bit of a smile, stepping closer to them all. At this distance, the sticker on their white lab shirt could be read, saying ‘Hi, my name’s Jupiter! They/them pronouns!’ Beneath that they wore a red V-neck with jean shorts, red and white sneakers, and sported a faint scar on their left thigh before it trailed under their shorts. Their torso was round at the bottom, tapering at the top like a pear. “I guess it’s the best welcoming I could hope for.” They shrugged, stopping near their peers.

Chris shook himself off. “Last and literally not the least- in fact, dare I say double than any of you- we have- well, depending on how you look at it,” Chris kept interrupting himself, his smile growing wider and wider.

“Ah, come on man! On with it!” Jackson put his hands on his hips. “I don’t know how anybody can be Tony doubled.” He pointed his thumb at said boy.

“Oh ho ho! Not like that!” Chris gushed. “From the archway, we have our last one and/or two contestants…” From the tube curtain, two pairs of fingers began to appear, too far apart to be from one person. “Avery and Erika!”

A leg appeared, a leg appeared, and a leg appeared exactly. Two girls walked from the curtain, each using a hand to part themselves a way. Between them, they let what remained of the curtain trail over their shared shoulder until they walked far enough for it to slip behind them. Operating their five limbs carefully and slowly, they didn’t have to worry about the curtain yanking them back. Everyone who had come before them were ready to greet them like normal, but as the seconds passed and realizations began to bloom, things went dead silent.

They stopped soon after, standing in front of the gathering. Chris walked up to them as the twins and the rest of the cast shared glances, their light brown eyes open wide but relaxed- owlish. It didn’t take long for the two girls to look down at a space between them, cupping their hands together and inching towards each other a bit, making themselves smaller. They had a sandy complexion, and dark brown bobs. Avery, the twin with the right hand, had blunt bangs over her forehead, her hair reaching the mid of her shoulder blades. Erika’s hair ended at the shoulder, her bangs swept to the side.

Tailored to their needs, they wore a brown blouse over their bulky top with short, slightly puffed sleeves and short collars. Their conjoined torso tapered towards the middle where they had a black thick belt wrapped around their stomach, then widen to their shoulder width at their hips where they wore a three-legged pair of denim shorts. Below, they had two right-foot black Mary Janes(their middle leg slightly favored Erika, but alas was very stunted either way) and one left one, and black stockings that went up to their knees. Thankfully, for how misfortunate their situation was, both could stand upright with proper posture without either one having to lean to a side, which is more than can be said about most conjoined twins.

“I’m so glad you two could make it!” Chris jeered. “Or one. However you call it.”

They had small, pouty lips, and blinked at each other. Avery lifted her head and began looking out at the others blankly once again.

“Call us two.” Erika softly requested. 

Avery let her personal shoulder sag. “But count us as whatever you will.” She said just as quietly. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Such new… territory.”

“DON’T MOVE!” Paulie demanded, jumping towards them. “We’ll come to you!” The others quickly followed suit around the twins. Curious stares were thrown all around the girls, but no one got close enough to touch them.

“This is so cool…” Annabelle muttered.

“I want to ask you a billion questions… but must’nt overwhelm you…!” Jackson was visibly holding himself back, one of the nearest to the twins.

Avery and Erika barely responded to any of them beyond flicking their eyes here and there. 

Chris let out a sigh, the least angsty sigh he’d let out all day. “You know, that wasn’t so bad. Too bad I have to ruin it by showing you around- ugh- the garden, I guess.”

Previously standing within the camera crew, some interns came to the meeting ground and began to clear out the props. The boardwalk was allowed to stay, and they dismantled the archway in record time. There was an actual curtain behind it that had kept those who chose the archway from seeing the rest of the island.

And once it was taken down……

The clearing before had been pretty and all that, like grandma’s backyard or something, but this was like the personification of aesthetic and botany had a head-on collision AND a love child. The prettiest of flowers, from pastel, dainty, and sweeping, to bright neon, bold blooms.

A fountain with a statue was in front of them a ways away, shaped as a vague man-shape holding a tall vase, the tip of it gurgling out a stream of water with a pleasant sound. Light blue glassy bricks made a clean walkway to it, and in two other directions further into the island. Some tastefully-chosen trees filled some empty space within the near candy-green grass, broken up only by tiny stones or carefully picked wildflowers.

Chef sat nearby at an off-white table made with intricate designs, sipping on a fine china tea cup. The matching tea kettle was on the table.

“Tea parties…” Rosie muttered, hanging her head sadly. Not her cup of tea.

“It’s GORGEOUS!” Amelia cried, lacing fingers with Marina. Stella bobbed her head in front of them, her smile huge as ever.

Some of the others, like Jupiter, Nadine, and Paulie, were impressed by the sight, but not too much to comment. Others, like Jackson, Rosie, and Annabelle, preferred something else, but not enough to complain.

Jennifer shifted her eyes in outright suspicion. “Is that a mango tree!?” She pointed at a lush, fruitless tree.

“Uhhhhh….” Chris, more fearful of not knowing something than of Jennifer’s brewing wrath, swiveled to Chef to back him up.

“Not yet it ain’t.” Chef decided to help.

“Tropical trees don’t grow in Canada!” Jennifer chided. “At least, they shouldn’t, especially not around all these other- none of these plants should go together! They’re all going to die!”

Chef made her wait until he took a long sip. He set the cup on the saucer he held in his hand. “Man…” He said, “Stop dissing my mango tree.”

Jennifer continued to hotly argue plant ethics. An intern got Chris’s attention from it by tapping his shoulder, giving him a piece of paper. “Oh! Ahem,” He began hostly once he saw what it was. “This season, we have a team of the world’s BEST plant experts, who have carefully either found a way to keep all native and nonnative plants living in harmony with one another, or under a careful plan for future removal once the season is finished.” He smirked pridefully. “There, no harm done.”

“‘Plant experts?’” Jennifer scoffed. “Plant experts my ass! That’s just Total Drama bull-”

Rosie planted a hand on her shoulder from too far away, but made up for it in one long stride. She was at her side in a second, toothily smiling down at her. “Jenny, what’s it matter? I’m a nature enthusiast! You don’t see me complaining. You’re just being silly.”

Jennifer rose a brow from her scowl. She sighed angrily, but otherwise decided to back down.

“Now if you’ll all follow me.” Chris started to lead them down one of the brick pathways. Chef finished and took up the rear.

“Down this way we have the essentials. You’re going to be in charge of cooking your own meals, but here you’re almost always going to be able to get the ingredients you need.” He explained as they came to a large patch of tilled soil, many various green stalks and vines sprouting from it. Towards the back there were some huts that Chris pointed to. “Those have things like meat and grain stuff. We weren’t allowed to have you slaughter things for yourselves, so I said to heck with all the farm animals then, what’d be the point?” That got a mixed reaction from the teens. “But downside is you have a limited amount of the stuff a day. A pity. Oh, and fruit and berries are scattered around the island- can’t let your snacks be too easy.”

Chris gained a boost of excitement at the little shack at the edge of all the food spots, skipping up to it. “This!” He eagerly smacked the side of the shabby wood with a flat palm. “Is the tool shed- this season’s confessional! There’s lots of these babies all ‘round the island! I want you guys to get acquainted by taking turns saying who you want on your team or not! Who wants to give it a try first!?”

*Shed: Jupiter* They sat at a small wooden bench, knees tucked in. The lighting was a bit dim, light peeking in from the cracks of the wall behind, and a light was illuminating their face for the camera. “I want to be on Annabelle’s team. That may sound strange to instantly decide but… we’re actually siblings. We auditioned together.” They admitted, eyes dropping. “She said that because of my skin condition, as long as Chris didn’t mention it, no one would be the wiser. We even didn’t mention each other on our audition tapes, just in case. It looks like he’s playing along.” They laughed nervously. “I don’t like our plan much, but Anna’s right, it has a lot of pluses. Having the others thinking-” They began to hack grossly “Alright! I can’t take it anymore! Why’s it smell so bad!? It’s not like this is an outhouse anymore-” They turned around, revealing that the wall behind was lined with some small gardening tools… and stacked with open bags of manure. Chris could be heard outside the door cackling like a witch.

*Shed: Jennifer* “One, these plants WILL have retribution.” She informed before saying anything she was supposed to. Her leg was crossed over the other, her hands resting on her knee if not animated around her. “I hate to say it, because people will assume this is how I am in real life outside of sick television world, but I want as few of the… weaker people on my team as possible. I usually PREFER to hang around underdog types, but those are dangerous in a drama competition. Sorry twins, sisters, and Jupiter… but the less of you the better. Not sorry Amelia, you’re preppy.” She finally succumbed to a wince, and glared over at the bags of manure in the corner. Chris somehow, someway, knew this and laughed shrilly once again outside the door.

*Shed: Nadine* “I plan on being the strongest on my team no matter what.” Nadine announced, sitting with her legs pointed to one side. “Even versus… Tony, was it? I can get around him in no time flat, and I’d be surprised if he was able to flinch about it.” She suddenly laughed, looking away bashfully. “Sorry, that was a bit mean. Um, a leader type would be nice. I’d hate for people to look at me to solve in-fighting. If I had to guess who’d that be…” She scratched at her hijab, trying not to be at a loss for words. “Rosie or Paulie, perhaps?”

*Shed: Roger* He sat leaned back with his legs crossed. “I don’t super get it. Like, I don’t know how to PICK someone to be with for important stuff. Everybody hates me being in their group projects at school, but I don’t know why, because I always end up doing all the work, and I hate it because it takes me forever! And they never give me credit!” He crossed his arms and leaned forward, fuming at the floor. “And people always change… they give you attention for nothing but ignore you when you ask for it… so I want people on my team who make sense! That’s it!” He clicked his heels. “Hnn… being nice would help though… or if they were pretty. Or smart. Or-”

*Shed: Cameron* “Eh, I’m thinking Amelia, Paulie, and Jennifer would make good teammates. They seem well-rounded at worse, and I feel a slight bond with them. I’d be crazy not to want both Tony and Nadine on my team. Oh! And Erika and Avery. So cool. So creepy. Maybe get a collab thing going if things don’t turn out here. REAL conjoined twins on my mystery channel would be insane for business! Or if not, I want to hang with them as much as possible, just for funsies.” She paused, a finger on her chin. “But what if… they don’t think I’M cool!?!?”

*Shed: Stella* “Ahhh! Friends!” She joyfully cheered. She balled her hands and bounced in her seat. “With Mari! Ahhhh!”

*Shed: Avery and Erika* Avery sat with her hand on her lap, and Erika lent to the side on hers. “We reeeeally hope to get better at this whole people thing.” Erika whined, sounding nothing like before. Her voice was still soft, but not sad. “We came onto this show hoping to get used to people outside the orphanage. It’s pathetic to say but… we were most excited that they’d be forced to get along with us.”

“We fall into the creepy twin act on habit.” Avery explained. “We’re just so nervous around new faces. A driving factor to joining was also that Total Drama is notorious for oddballs. If anyone’s going to get used to us quick, and us get used to them, this seemed like just the environment. Like Erika said… pathetic. We know.” They didn’t seem all that embarrassed, though.

Erika perked up. “Team wise? Anyone will do! It’ll all be about the same for us, probably cannon fodder no matter what.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Pathetic. But hey, if we get any sort of positivity out of this at all, it’ll be- say, will you hold your hand out, I wanna do the thing- yeah like that.” Avery held her hand open palm-up for Erika to throw her fist into. “It’ll ALL be worth it!”

*Shed: Paulie* “HMM…” She gleefully pondered. “Definitely Rosie and Cameron- so wild! And Jennifer’s hilarious, gotta be on her team when she pisses Chris off. Mmm, who else… Jupiter maybe? They look cool- oh yeah! And the twins. Think about it- if they count as two, when we vote them off, we still get to keep them! At least once.”

*Shed: Annabelle* She sat sideways on the bench with her legs propped up. “On the opposite team as Jupiter, my dear little sibling. It’ll be good for them, and best case scenario we both get to the merge and become unstoppable. If you’re wondering why we’re not all like those sisters… we’d be targeted like crazy. Being on separate teams, we’ll have a much wider range of people to target, and I won’t have to worry about having to work against them.” Annabelle’s confidence in her plan sounded a bit more flakey when she continued with the next part, “And the main reason I can’t risk getting targeted due to being related is that… it makes it fifty/fifty on which of us gets voted, and as much as I love them… I have to be the one who gets to the finale.” She propped her cheek on her fist. “Jupiter thinks they have a good plan for the money that I pretended to agree with, but to be real, it’ll go to waste in their hands.”

*Shed: Marina* “It goes without saying, Stella! I don’t baby her, I swear, but she deserved a decent introduction, at least! And she’s not the best at talking, so I’ll probably be pretty necessary for awhile since she’s so excited. Otherwise, Rosie’s so nice and strong! I’d love to be on her team. Amelia’s nice… Jackson’s pretty cool… Nadine seems like she’ll be great in challenges… that kind of stuff!” She propped her hands on her hips in excitement.

*Shed: Tony* “Pft, it doesn’t matter. They’re all simple enough, I’ll get under their skins easily.” He said with way more clarity than before, examining his nails. “Err, not those twins though. There’s no WAY I’d be able to get either of them alone…”

*Shed: Amelia* She sat dainty as ever. “Cameron and Paulie, of course! Being the typical ‘quirky girls,’ they’re going to be looking for someone to give them direction. Tony’ll be useful. Jennifer will be fun to mess with, her being on either team will work just fine. Rosie is too into herself, I think, so I’ll pass on her. Roger is a puppy, he’ll follow me easily. I would say Marina would be a nice addition, but now that she has a sister to look after, not so much. The twins have too much of a specific thing… like on stage, you want to be versatile! I can’t tell how stubborn Nadine will be… she’s a dangerous wildcard. Annabelle and Jackson will probably take orders from something that sounds right, which won’t be any trouble for me. Jupiter can be my replacement Marina, I suppose.” She listed off without a second thought on any of her assumptions.

*Shed: Jackson* “There’s SO many girls on this show. Oh my god. I hope I’m with at least ONE of the two other boys. Chris really would toy with me and put them together on the opposite one without me, UGH. Not that the girls are bad, it’s just- Well, I’m no sexist, just- WHATEVER just trust me on this, ‘kay!? Anyway, Jennifer, Annabelle, and Cameron would be pretty cool too.”

*Shed: Rosie* Her eyes popped open in earnest shock. “There’s a lot of un-camp worthy stuff going on already! Jeez! Who raised these folks!?” She huffed. “Well, I’ll give them one chance each, which that all-black wearing girl better appreciate, ‘cause she said some unsavory things a minute ago! Oh, and that OTHER girl… she’s got like, a point and a half. Any worse offense, and she’ll have to go home, with a lesson at that! I’d love to be on her team, just to make sure she stays in line.” *End*

The last of the confessors tromped out to a beaming Chris. “Now on to the next landmark, we have the winners cabin. Which, as it sounds, is the better of the two cabins for only the most recent winners.” He described as they walked to it. 

They came to a quaint little cottage sitting in a field, another confessional shed sitting nearby. Right in front of it was a basic wooden fence leading up to the front door. Sitting upon the fence, there was a boy of the contestants’ age idly knocking his knees together, flicking his dark eyes from the clouds to the cast as they approached.

He sprung from his seat ahead of Chris, smiling wide and outstretching his arms. He was one of the most wiry people in existence it seemed, at a normal height and with brown skin. Dressed simply, he wore dark green jeans, brown dress shoes, and a golden yellow long-sleeved T-shirt. Well, less simply, he had a short black tophat perched on his head, concealing his hair. He had a weird pair of eyes where instead of his eyelids squinting as he emoted, they simply widened or contracted together perfectly, like the lens of a camera. “Chris! What a bunch!”

“Hello Lucas.” Chris groaned, lazily waving at the boy. “Care to tell this ‘bunch’ what you’re here for?” He sorta flicked his wrist over his shoulder.

Lucas hopped up to his side, training his sight on the others. “I’m Lucas, I’m with the people who know the island this season is taking place on.”

Chris sharply growled at him. Lucas blinked at the host, then brought his wrist to his eyes. With his other hand, he pulled back his sleeve a bit, stared at his skin, then looked up smiling once again. “I’m with the people who OWN this island!”

Chris smacked himself.

“I’ll just be around. I’m not working with the staff, so don’t go asking me for stuff.” Lucas continued.

“Like we can ask them for stuff anyway.” Jackson scoffed light-heartedly.

“Will you be doing… anything?” Nadine asked him.

He shrugged, giving a coy, innocent smile on his sharp-featured face. “I sure do love the idea of Reality TV chores. Much more fun than normal chores.”

Marina chuckled. “I bet, if you aren’t competing.”

“I suppose.”

“Anyway, Lucas’ll be around and if he tells you not to do something, listen to him because his dad might get mad if we mess up his island. I don’t really want to know what will happen if we tick him off.” Chris instructed, and Lucas waved to them at hearing his name. He turned to the boy. “I was showing them the good cabin, so if you could…”

Lucas tilted his torso at a weird angle. “Ooh! I like how they have to be two to a room. How do you think they’ll go about that!?”

Chris grimaced.

“Just pick whoever we like the best on the team.” Cameron shrugged. “Though I do admittedly not share very often.”

Lucas turned to them brimming with intrigue, but Chef shook his head from the back and waved the boy over. He perked up, and left the host’s side happily.

“You know what? The cabin speaks for itself when you go inside. Let’s move on to the loser’s cabin.” He lead the cast on the path. From the rear, Chef and Lucas shared dark giggles that all the others nervously picked up on.

They walked this path the longest yet, a curve in the walk suggesting they were walking the perimeter of something, hinted even more so as fences were a prominent feature on one side of them. A grey mass in the distance came into focus, nearly drawing all the attention from the shabby shack in front of it.

“Cool.” Annabelle said while looking up at the gnarled forest, in slight awe.

“Nasty.” Stella added.

“Isn’t it?” Chris asked proudly, before shaking back his senses. “Ahem. THIS is the loser’s cabin. It’s worse than the other one in most ways, the confessional shed is attached to the side, AND it comes with a chore.”

The teenagers groaned prematurely, before they even knew what it was. It made the host even happier. “After a challenge is lost, the losing team will come here after voting off one of their members. You will then be tasked with keeping the untamed part of the island at bay, however you can.”

“What?” Rosie cried, aghast, yet again. “If it’s growing then it’s alive, and it’s not okay in the slightest to cut away living trees!”

“Rosie Rosie Rosie, this forest is SUPER invasive and dangerous. I assure you, it’ll take over this island within a few DAYS of being left untouched, and there’s nothing good inside it. Trust me.” Chris seemed a bit serious. “And as for all of you, don’t be stupid, reckless, curious, or any of that other dumb teenage stuff and try to explore it. That is literally the only important job Lucas has, to make sure none of you act that idiotically.” For anyone who looked towards him, Lucas once again waved his hands at his name. “Because I’ve been at this for way too long to know that at least someone will try it.”

Rosie still looked worried, but after giving the weird forest another look, didn’t press it.

“Now!” Chris clapped his hands. “It’s time to find out who here you have to trust and rely on for your success in the challenges- your teammates! And don’t worry, once the merge hits, you’ll all be in charge of forest taming! But that’s a ways down the road. For now, will the people I call stand over to where I point” Chris motioned to two sides in front of him, Chef and Lucas moving behind the host. Chef whispered something to the boy, who went happily sprinting off.

“Tony,” The massive contestant trucked over to the right side.

“Annabelle,” He pointed to the left. She slightly nodded and contentedly moved away.

“Paulie,” She cockily made a ‘heh’ sound and fingered her bandana as she made her way to the right.

“Stella,” She brightened, coming up to Annabelle. “Hi!” She said, and Annabelle returned the greeting with a chuckle.

“Jackson,” The boy pumped his fist, then paused and coughed into it as he walked over. Paulie smiled at him, and he returned it.

“Marina,” Said contestant had been sweating bullets the second her sister had been called, and was relieved to be pointed in her direction- and so soon at that.

“Amelia,” She walked to the right with a happy wave, turning to face the host promptly once she arrived.

“Erika,” The twins paused before slowly making their way to the left.

“Jupiter,” They jolted, muttering “Ah, y- yes!” and walked to the right.

“Rosie,” She adjusted her non-existent tie before making her way over.

“Roger,” He pointed to the right to make sure, and Chris aggressively pointed in that direction even harder. Jackson beamed at his arrival.

“Cameron,” The girl sprung up as she made her way to the left, and Rosie’s eyes glittered down at her.

“Jennifer,” The goth nodded like she expected it, and went to the right.

“Nadine,” She calmly walked over to the left, no flair nor expression.

“And Avery,” Chris pointed for the final time, to the right.

The clearing was silent.

“Uhhh…. NO?” Jackson stated incredulously.

“What the heck, Chris?” Cameron shouted, flinging her arm around the twins’ shoulders. The twins, who had yet to emote to the announcement themselves, jumped slightly at the touch. “That’s not right, cool, OR possible. So stop joking, man!”

Chris chuckled remorselessly. “What’s wrong about it?”

“They CAN’T- not to offend-” Jennifer interrupted herself to make that note to the twins, “They literally can not be on both teams, and you know it, so stop being cruel.”

“Yeah, pretend I said it like that.” Cameron pointed to the goth.

“I’m not being cruel! As you can see with Marina and Stella, I’d never split apart sisters, and the twins still look together to me!” The host stifled a laugh.

*Shed: Jupiter* They sighed, their shoulders slumping. *End*

“That’s the opposite of funny, Chris.” Nadine grumbled, running her hand down her face.

He planted his hands on his hips. At this time, Lucas returned with two flashy props in hand. Chris didn’t pay him any mind yet. “Well I think we’re all forgetting to ask the people this is about. Avery! Erika! What do you say? Can you do it?”

The twins perked up, flicking their eyes to each other. They whispered in the space between them quickly. With the first smile they ever mustered in front of the others, Avery said, “We can handle it.”

Chris seemed to be the only one completely happy about that, but the contestants let it be.

“Um. So I guess we should like…” Paulie did an awkward step out, “Get a little closer?”

“Just a tad.” Amelia agreed, and the teams wedged a little closer, the twins tilting to be standing with them both.

“You all on the right,” The host reached behind him to take one of the props, “You are the Cheshire Queens.” He tossed the object, shaped like a long scepter with a big, heart-shaped gem sitting up top. Paulie caught it with a smile.

“And you,” He turned to the others, “Are the Hare Hatters.” He tossed a tube-shaped hat with white bunny ears coming out the sides to the team, and Stella eagerly caught it.

“It’s dumb!” She said, putting it on.

Chris ignored her. “With that, we can now,”

Lucas’s eyes grew wide behind him, bouncing on his heels, clasping his hands tightly.

“Start the first challenge.” The host stated simply. The boy behind him looked incredibly aggravated that it didn’t have the flair he was pumped for, and turned away. “A nice little scavenger hunt to get you guys used to the garden. At the expense of one of you on the losing team, of course, but such is life.” He produced two folded squares of paper from his back pocket. “Y’all ready?”

[rosesisupposes]

Going for the Glory

Part 8 of Breakin’ Free, a High School Musical Sanders Sides AU

Chapter Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality, Slight Remceit

Chapter Warnings: Coming out, swearing

word count: 4,980

Reader tags: @residentanchor @royally-anxious@bewarethegrammarpolice   @jemthebookworm@arandompasserby  @sparkly-rainbow-salt@astral-eclipse​ @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty

<<7. If We’re Tryin’ | Masterpost

read on ao3

SCENE: East High - Game Day, Scholastic Decathlon Day, Callbacks Day

Friday afternoon arrived like a swarm of honey bees. The whole school was buzzing in excitement with a large helping of sweetness. The cliques continued to mingle as ‘good lucks’ were exchanged between drama geeks, science nerds, jocks, and pep band geeks alike. As the basketball team found the scholastic decathlon team, the sweetness became slightly more literal.

Roman led the way into the lab where the decathletes were prepping, with teammates shielding their gift.

“Virge, Logan, we have a surprise for you!” he called happily. The two science students turned from where they were donning their East High lab coats.

Patton emerged from where he’d been ducking behind the team to place his creation on the lab bench, glowing with pride. He’d made a lemon meringue pie decorated with a huge “𝚷” in the meringue. “In your honor - a Pi Pie!” he announced, grinning hugely.

Logan looked up to thank him but suddenly went quiet, smiling just as widely. Virgil noticed and smirked, then nudged his friend in the ribs. Coming back to himself, Logan said “Thank you, Patton. In fact, we have a present for you as well.”

He and Virgil walked over to a white board and both gestured with open arms, chorusing, “Ta da!”

Remy, Patton, and Roman all stared at the board, heads tilted. It was covered in incomprehensible (to them) equations that seemed to be somehow explaining how to make the perfect free throw, accounting for drag, vertical draft, air pressure within and without the ball, and speed of the player shooting.

“Oh, it’s… equations!” Patton said with forced cheer. “Thanks, you two!”

Logan and Virgil made eye contact and snickered. Snickers turned into laughs as they flipped the board over, revealing a colorful drawing of a wildcat dunking a basketball and “Go Wildcats!” in huge letters. The basketball players all sighed in relief with “Oh!”s of understanding, as Logan, Virgil, and their decathlon teammates pelted them with stuffed basketballs they’d hidden around the lab. The team tried to retaliate, but they were outmatched and laughing too hard to care.

Remy suddenly caught sight of the clock and nudged Roman. They waved goodbye to the decathletes and jogged as a team down to Ms. Darbus’ classroom, where Dee & Cee were chatting with other students who had callbacks for the singles roles that day.

Remy strolled in and leaned over a desk to wink at Dee. “Hey, Not-So-Evil Twins, we’ve got something to show you. Follow me!”

The twins were slightly off put by the nickname but mostly intrigued. The rest of the auditioners and Ms. Darbus crowded behind them in the door of the classroom to watch. The entire varsity squad of the basketball team were arranged in rows in their red-and-white warm up suits. Remy re-joined the formation, telling Dee, “From our team, to yours!”

One by one they opened their jackets to reveal t-shirts painted in huge letters. “G - O - D - R - A - M - A - C - L - U - B” they spelled out, Roman bringing up the rear with “Exclamation Point!”

Ms. Darbus smiled. “Seems we Wildcats are in for an interesting afternoon.”

Dee smirked, enjoying the offering. Beside him, Cee stared in confusion. “Godra? Godray?” he read aloud. Dee rolled his eyes and pulled his twin behind him, heading towards the auditorium. The basketball team split off towards the gym, and the decathletes made their way to the amphitheater. It was 2:45 pm, less than an hour until the multiple events started.

Logan nudged Virgil with a small grin. “It looks like the game is afoot.”

“I never thought I’d be able to say this without seeming like a huge hypocrite, but you are a enormous nerd,” Virgil smirked back. “But also, yes it is. And we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”

SCENE: Locker Room

Roman was in the locker room suiting up, stretching out his pre-game jitters. He couldn’t wait to get out there with his team, but the amount riding on this game was nothing to sneeze at. He was in the middle of an arm stretch when his dad knocked on the wall, getting his attention.

“How you feeling, Ro?”

“Nervous,” the captain admitted.

“Me too. Wish I could suit up and play alongside you,” the coach said with a smile.

“Hey, you had your turn! Let the young guys show you how it’s done,” Roman shot back with a chuckle.

“You know what I want from you today?” Coach Bolton asked, sitting on a bench across from his son.

“The championship,” Roman said, feeling another butterfly burst out into his gut.

“Well, that'll come or it won't,” his father said. “What I want is for you to have fun. I know all about the pressure. And probably too much of it has come from me.” His face twisted a bit, betraying his guilt. But he made eye contact with the teen across from him as he continued. “What I really want is to see my son having the time of his life playing the game we both love. You give me that, and I will sleep with a smile on my face no matter how the score comes out.”

Roman could feel the butterflies melting away. His dad got it. He knew he’d been harsh, but ultimately, he just wanted his son to be successful and happy.

“Thanks, Coach - I mean, Dad.”

He stood up and hugged his dad firmly. Father and son both squeezed for a moment, then parted to finish getting ready for the game’s imminent start.

SCENE: All Over East High

Quiet chatter bounced around the amphitheater where the decathlon was soon to start. Virgil stood in the audience, chatting with his mom as she cooed over his lab coat.

“I’m so proud of you, mijo. I know you’re gonna do great today!”

“Mamá, you are not allowed to be embarrassing in any way.”

“When am I ever embarrassing?”

Virgil rolled his eyes as he held up a hand to list off his grievances. “The competition in Colorado, junior high graduation, the nationals in 2015, the science fair in seventh grade…”

Lisa laughed and hugged her son around the shoulders. “Okay, okay, I’ll be good. Can I at least meet your friends on the team?”

But Virgil was saved by the decathlon judge stepping up to the front of the room and gesturing for the teams to come meet one another. Virgil hugged his mom back quickly and hurried up to stand by Logan as they shook their opponents’ hands.

“Welcome to the tenth annual Scholastic Decathlon,” the judge announced. “Today we have the East High Wildcats versus the West High Knights.”

“Now presenting your Wildcats!” the announcer blared. Roman, Remy, Patton, and the rest of their team spilled into the gym in a wave of red and white, cheering and waving to the crowd. They grabbed basketballs and circled, warming up, dribbling, and shooting in turn.

“Welcome to the championship game between East High and West High!”

Remy dribbled past Roman, throwing him a grin. “You ready, man?”

“You know I am!”

“It’s go time!”

“It’s time!” sang Ms. Darbus, leading in the small crowd of actors to the auditorium. Joan sat at the piano, warming up and practicing. In the green room, Dee and Cee were performing their vocal warm ups, trills and scales and enunciation exercises.

“Ahhhh-ee-ee-ah-ee-ee-ahhhhhh,” Cee sang, traversing the entire octave up and down. Dee rolled sounds in his throat.

The sounds rolled around the dressing room before Dee held up a hand. Without looking, he fell backwards into Cee’s arms. Standing, he turned to his twin.

“I trust you.”

“Energy.”

Ms. Darbus checked the watch of the student assisting at her audition table. Standing, she took the stage.

“Casting a show is both a challenge and a responsibility. A joy and a burden,” she proclaimed, her voice booming through the mostly-empty auditorium. “I commend you and all other young artists to hold out for the moon, the sun, and the stars.” Her assistant took a picture of her and Joan as director and playwright. She smiled and asked, “Shall we soar together?”

Taking her seat in the audience, she called out “Diego and Cedric!”

As the music started, Cee appeared onstage first. His shirt was flowy and glittery, not quite a full Flamenco shirt, but definitely pushing in that direction. Silver threads interlaced with blue and sequins made him a bit difficult to look at directly as the stage lights caught him. Hitting his first pose, he sang out “¿Quieres bailar?”

Dee appeared on the opposite side of the stage in his own spotlight as he blew a kiss to the audience and sang in response to his twin “¡Mirame!” If Cee was sparkling, Dee was blinding. He was in full character as the musical’s heroine, Minnie. His dress hugged his slender chest and cascaded in tiers of waves in the skirt, all blue and silver and far too many sequins. Even his headset microphone matched, bedazzled in glittery blue rhinestones. He swirled to center stage in a flash of blue and dove into the first verse of the song, with Ms. Darbus grooving along from her spot in the audience.

The twins had a mix of choreography, switching from salsa to flamenco to rumba and sprinkling in more classic musical theater moves in between. In terms of pure talent, they’d never been in doubt.

“Yeah, we're gonna bop, bop, bop, bop to the top!” they sang in tandem, singing through plastered-on stage smiles as they made their way through complex steps and spins. Joan nervously checked the clock as they continued. Time was of the essence today, and the twins had once again adapted Joan’s song to be much faster than they’d pictured.

In the amphitheater, Virgil’s event had been drawn first, and he raced against a West High student to complete a full chain of reactions. He was a comfortable level of jittery as he wrote across his white board quickly. He reached the bottom as his opponent was completing only her fifth line, and quickly made his way to the game clock and stopped his timer.

The judge came forward and checked his word, before gesturing to the team table and announcing, “The point goes to East High!”

The team cheered and their supporters cheered with them, Lisa Montez the loudest of them all. Virgil rolled his eyes but smiled at her and gave a small wave. Logan clapped him on the shoulder, saying, “Excellently done, Virgil!”

Virgil glanced at the clock and nudged his friend. As the next event started, Logan brought out his laptop. “It seems it’s time that the Wildcats made an orderly exit from the gym, does it not?” he murmured as he worked. He sent off the code he’d created, then opened his other file. “You are quite sure this one will work to disrupt the room, Virge?” he asked quietly, typing away.

“Oh believe me, it works," Virgil whispered back, eyeing the Bunsen burner near the judge stand with trepidation.

“All right. Here goes,” Logan said, sending off the new code. The beaker on the burner started to heat up, causing the sac inside to burst. The room filled with the scent of rotten eggs as team members and audience members alike gagged and rushed to the exits.

“I assume it is working?” Logan whispered as he hurried Virgil to a side door closer to the auditorium.

“Uh, yeah, Lo, it smells terrible,” Virgil exclaimed.

“I would not know - I have anosmia. Why else did you think I agreed to this childish distraction?”

Virgil swore at him over his shoulder as he sprinted away, heading for the theater.

Joan was hiding behind their bowler hat as Dee & Cee’s routine neared its end. It’s not that the twins were bad, it was all just so extra. Every extra flourish, every break to throw in more unscripted Spanish just made the composer cringe more and more. They’d even worn a burgundy suit jacket and bow tie for the occasion, but now it was only serving as camouflage as they shrunk into the red audience seats.

“Bop, bop, bop, bop to the top, wipe away your inhibitions!” the twins sang, Dee always managing to be just a bit downstage and more center of his twin. His skirt flared as they neared the conclusion of their song. The lights raised on the back of the stage, revealing a ladder covered in gold tinsel. As Cee spun in front, Dee scaled the ladder into the spotlight.

“We'll keep stepping up and we just won't stop ‘till we reach the top!” the twins hit the final note together as Cee scaled the ladder, only to be push down a rung by his brother.

They held the final note, both breathing heavily from the exertion of the performance as the audience of drama students erupted into applause, Ms. Darbus enthusiastically clapping along.

“Do you see why we love the theater, people? Well done, Dee & Cee!” she cried happily. She picked up her clipboard and called out the next names on her list. “Roman Bolton and Virgil Montez. Roman? Virgil?” The auditorium was silent as Dee smirked triumphantly.

“They'll be here, Ms. Darbus,” Joan said, looking anxiously at their watch.

“The theater, as I have often pointed out, waits for no one. I'm sorry, Joan. Callbacks are over. Cast lists will be posted on Monday.”

Joan cursed under their breath and stormed off into the wings, scowling at the self-satisfied twins.

The first quarter was coming to a close and East and West High were still tied at only 8 points each. The team was moving well, their defense strong. There had been a slip early on, but they were holding West High still. Roman raced the length of the court, directing teammates and weaving between opponents. He watched the ball fly over his head into Patton’s arms when the scoreboard flickered. The voice of the announcer who’d been offering blow-by-blow commentary fizzled and faded. Suddenly, every light in the gym went off. Murmurs of confusion rolled around the crowd as the players stopped and stared at each other awkwardly. Remy nudged Roman with a grin.

“What are you waiting for, babes? Go!”

Roman smiled and ran out of the gym, dodging through the crowd and hurrying out.

He tore into the auditorium as Ms. Darbus picked up her purse and made to leave.

“Wait! Ms. Darbus, wait! We're ready, we can sing!” he cried, seeing Virgil running down another aisle.

“I called your names, twice,” Ms. Darbus said sharply.

“Ms. Darbus, please,” Virgil begged, running up the stairs to the stage.

“Rules are rules,” the director insisted. But as she spoke, crowds of students started filing into the auditorium from both the basketball game and the decathlon. Most wore East High red and white, but the West High teams were present too, all looking confused.

Dee leaned over, staring starry-eyed at the huge audience, and said, “We'll be happy to do it again for our fellow students, Ms. Darbus!”

“I don't know what's going on here,” the teacher began, uncertain, “but in any event, it's far too late and we have not got a pianist.”

“Aw well, that’s show biz,” Cee said sympathetically.

“We’ll sing without a piano!” Roman insisted, but was interrupted by a blur of burgundy and black.

“No you goddamn won’t!” Joan stepped in front of the Evans twins to speak directly to the director. “Pianist here, Ms. Darbus.”

“You really don’t want to do that,” Dee said dangerously, stepping into Joan’s space.

They stared back steadily as they replied, “Oh yeah I fucking do.” Dee’s eyes widened in shock as the composer ran to their piano, calling “Ready on stage!” behind them.

Ms. Darbus eyed the interaction. “Now that’s show biz,” she said with admiration.

A stage hand gave Roman two handheld microphones as the twins stormed off into the wings.

He walked over and handed Virgil one where he was still standing in the middle of the stage, staring at the huge number of people  that was only continuing to grow as the last of the crowds filtered in. The stage lights came back on, illuminating his white lab coat and Roman’s white tracksuit as the basketball player signaled to Joan to start.

The familiar strains of the song began, but Virgil remained frozen, eyes wide as he stared straight ahead.

Roman gestured for Joan to pause and walked over to the shorter man, partially shielding from the crowd as he murmured, “You okay?”  

“I can’t do it, Ro, not with all those people staring at me.” He started to turn away as Roman caught his free hand.

“Hey, hey, look at me, look at me, right at me. Right at me, okay? No one else is here. It's just like the first time we sang together. Like kindergarten,” he said with a reassuring smile. “I’m here. You can do this, I know you can.”

Without releasing his hand, Roman gestured to Joan to start again. 

“We're soaring, flying. There's not a star in heaven that we can't reach,” he sang, staring directly into Virgil’s eyes.

Without breaking eye contact, Virgil lifted his mic and continued, “If we're trying, so we're breaking free.”

Roman spotted the tiniest hint of a smile. Virgil would be okay. He spun out to the audience. They needed to hear this too, see them up onstage and telling them what could be possible.

“You know the world can see us in a way that different than who we are.” He saw movement at the door and realized the last person from the gym had entered. It was his dad, leaning on the wall and listening hard.

Virgil let his hand drop, stepping away, “Creating space between us, 'til we're separate hearts.”

Joan grinned from their spot at the piano as the two built up to the chorus, signaling the rest of the band in the wings to join in.

Virgil suddenly  realized that Roman was right. It was just like New Year’s Eve all over again, all familiar jitters and excitement and this beautiful man singing to him like no one else could hear. Roman’s red hair glowed in the stage lights, a sun rising in the dark of the auditorium. Dimly he was aware that the crowd was starting to clap along, but what did that matter when a freckled smile was harmonizing and dancing around him?

They hadn’t practiced any choreography, but danced together and apart, spinning around their lone set piece, a crescent moon they’d painted together. They danced over to Joan’s piano as the composer danced with them, still playing and bopping their head along to the beat.

“More than you, more than me,” Roman sang, spinning Virgil out onto the stage.

“Not a want, but a need,” he sang back, grinning like mad as Roman followed him.

"Both of us, breaking free!” they chorused, hands finding each other and interlocking like an old habit, newly formed. The basketball team whooped and cheered, Remy leading the crowd in a standing ovation. Logan found he couldn’t be self-conscious, watching his friend glow with happiness, and stood too, earning himself a huge grin from Patton, just a row behind him.

Virgil briefly caught sight of his mom in the crowd, her hands covering her face as he swayed to the music. Was she crying? Her hands moved to clap along, revealing tears and a huge smile as she cheered loud and long for her son.

Joan and their piano led the song to its conclusion, slowing down to the final note as Roman and Virgil sang to each other.

“You know the world can see us in a way that’s different than who we are…”

They hit the final notes in harmony. Roman was staring unashamedly into Virgil’s dark eyes, at his flushed cheeks, at the way the stage lights caught the purple highlights in his hair. Grabbing the shorter man’s hand, he felt the same urge as that moment on New Year’s, when the distance between himself and Virgil seemed to shrink and all he wanted was to breach that final, infinitesimal separation between their lips. He leaned in, and despite the loud applause of the crowd, they didn’t break away.

Virgil was positive that this was death. He’d freaked out so hard about singing that he’d died and gone into a weird afterlife dream where the most beautiful man serenaded him and then kissed him in front of the entire school. Because it was only in heaven and his daydreams that this could actually be happening, right? His lips were so soft, and it felt like sunshine spilling into his soul as he kissed back, holding his waist with the hand not occupied by a mic.

The only thing that could cut through the dull roar of the crowd’s applause was a familiar, drawling voice shouting “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, FINALLY!”

They broke apart, blushes spreading on both of their cheeks.

“Ro, I have no idea how we get off this stage now,” Virgil whispered.

“Don’t worry, Panic! at the Musical,” Roman said, still blushing. “I think I know how.”

He stepped forward, closer to the stage, and spoke into the mic. “Thank you! To my teammates, to the drama club, to the science nerds, skaters, band geeks, and also both my parents, my name is Roman Bolton, and I am apparently gay. And I can’t ask my fabulous duet partner, Virgil Montez, to be my boyfriend with you all watching. To our West High guests, can’t wait to see y’all in the rematch, and to my East High friends, go Wildcats!” With that, he grabbed Vigil’s hand and dragged them both offstage, laughing like mad and still blushing furiously.

SCENE: Gymnasium

Roman was more than a little certain that he had yet to touch the ground since callbacks, floating on the countless wonderful emotions and memories that were the reality of dating Virgil. Somehow he had been able to drag himself away from walking down the street and the hallways introducing him to anyone and everyone who would listen as “my BOYFRIEND!” But at least there was the perk that he was constantly walking on air.

Or, in the case of the East-West rematch, flying down the court.

“...and West High pushin' the ball. Fast break. Looking for an open man. Oh, but it's stolen by number 14, Bolton, heading back the other way!” The commentator channeled the crowd’s energy as she called the action on the court. “East High has possession, one point down and only 15 seconds left on the clock! He’s looking for an open man. Fake! Swing to the outside, ball on the perimeter.”

Roman panted as he tossed the ball to Remy, getting closer to the net. He was acutely aware of how close they were to winning this thing, if they could just get an opening… there it was!

A high toss from Remy that only Patton could possibly reach, then a quick throw to Roman. He leapt, legs, core, and arms all in perfect harmony to get just the right angle and…

“And it's good! A 12-foot jump shot as time expires for the victory! East High has won the championship!”

Roman felt a thwump as Patton collided with him in a huge hug, followed shortly by the thwumpthwumpthwump of the rest of the team following suit. They all jumped up and down as one, cheering and celebrating without abandon. The cheerleaders and mascot were the first to get from the sidelines to the court to celebrate with them. But soon after, Coach Bolton, close to tears with happiness, came over to the team huddle of bodies to hand them the enormous championship trophy.

“Coming through! Proud coach coming through!” he yelled, and handed off the gleaming brass basketball on its heavy wooden base to Remy and Roman. Gripping his son’s shoulder, he managed to be heard as he told him, “I’m so proud of you Roman. For everything!”

Remy was the first to start the chant as the team swept Roman off his feet, hoisting him on their shoulders. “What team?”

“Wildcats!”

“What team?”

“Wildcats!”

“Wildcats!”

“Get’cha head in the game!”

They finally released him as he passed the trophy on to the other teammates and grabbed his dad for a hug as the spectators flooded from the bleachers to the court. Even Ms. Darbus had caught the spirit, cheering “Bravo!” at Roman as she passed.

Coach Bolton was even happy enough to cheer back, “Brava!” at her. The assistant coach pulled Roman’s dad away as he paused for a moment, catching his breath for the first time since the game had begun. Arms suddenly wrapped around him as he turned to see Virgil, hair re-dyed a festive Wildcat red just for the occasion.

“Congratulations, you dork,” he said, grinning hugely. “You’re officially the school’s Prince Charming again.”

“I would never make you share this brilliance with the entire school,” Roman responded. “Did you get the scores back from the decathlon?”

“We won, too,” Virgil said, but was interrupted by Roman hugging him with both arms and swinging him around in the air.

“I bring the looks and the brawn, you bring the smarts and also the looks, we are clearly the best couple ever and I am so happy you’re my boyfriend.”

“Goddammit Ro, you’re gonna make me blush and then I’ll clash with my hair,” Virgil admonished as he wriggled out of Roman’s hold.

“Guess I’m forced to kiss the blush off your cheeks,” Roman proclaimed. Just as he leaned in, Remy pushed in between them with a basketball in his hands.

“Hey Ro! Team voted you the game ball! Congrats!” Remy said airily, barely pretending to not notice what he’d interrupted.

“Thanks, Rem. Really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” his friend said with a bow, strolling off.

Virgil hugged Roman again, then suddenly hit his arm excitedly. Staring in the direction of his pointing arm, Roman saw Patton walking up to Logan and grinned.

“So, you’re coming with me to the after-party, right?” Patton asked, open face smiling.

Logan started. “Sorry, that was directed to me?”

“Of course, Lo! So will you?”

“I- uh. I was planning to attend because Virgil had asked me to…”

“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t being clear!” Patton realized. “Words are funny like that, aren’t they? I meant as a date!”

Logan stared for a moment, then two, then three without moving anything besides his eyes blinking.

Virgil nudged Roman and muttered in his ear, “Logan.exe has crashed.”

“Oh, also, these are for you! Fresh today!” Patton added, handing the shorter man a bag of cookies. “I heard you like jam thumbprints!”

Logan accepted the bag and managed to nod his agreement, to both the cookies and the date, as a huge smile spread across his face.

Virgil and Roman both punched the air in victory as Cee and Dee passed by, both in full East High spirit colors.

“Congrats again on your roles,” Dee said. “I guess we’re going to be the understudies in case you can't make one of the shows, so... break a leg.”

Roman stared in slight fear until Dee laughed and added, “It’s drama geek for ‘good luck’.”

Dee passed them and watched Cee dance off with a cheerleader, bopping to the music the pep band had struck up. He shouldered his way through pairs of students before coming up on Remy, leaning against the bleachers as he watched Roman and Virgil steal another kiss in the middle of the crowd.

Dee came up to lean next to him. “Can’t believe I crushed on Roman all these years only for him to actually be gay but still allo. I’m so disappointed.”

“That’s what everyone says when they what I’m ace. Like, I get it, I’m frustratingly hot and sassy as hell, why are you so obsessed with me?” Remy drawled back. He’d found his shades somewhere by the team bench and slipped them back on.

“You’re ace too?” Dee asked incredulously

“Of course I am. Hey, Dee, want to come to the afterparty and make fun of these gay disasters more?”

“Wait, really? You aren’t like ‘Dee’s a bitch and I hate him’?”

“Not at all, hun. You’re a bitch and I like it so much.”

“Well in that case, lead the way, Mr. Danforth.”

Somewhere in the crowd, Roman managed to find Joan. “Hey composer! Here’s your game ball. You deserve it, playmaker!”

Joan took the basketball, smiling. “Congrats again, you two!” they said with a wicked grin. “Can’t wait til rehearsals start and you’re at my mercy for eight weeks straight.”

Virgil laughed and pushed them. “Hey, this is all your fault. You can’t be mean to us now!”

“Oh so you’re saying you’d rather that you hadn’t met your boyfriend through the power of my beautiful song and lyrics?”

“Ya got me there,” Virgil shrugged. “But for real, thank you, Joan. We couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

Roman nodded emphatically. “And the rest of you, too,” he said, turning to his and Virgil’s teams. “All of this was a group effort. We made each other strong.”

“None of us are exactly alike,” Patton added. He and Logan were very subtly holding hands. “But the ways we’re different are all good and unique. And I’m grateful we arrived at where we are now.”

“Now let’s go celebrate!” Roman said.

“All of us?” a decathlon teammate asked.

“Absolutely!” Roman called. “This is a celebration for all of our victories. We’re all Wildcats, no matter what. And if there’s one thing this school has learned, it’s that we’re all in this together.”

a/n: Thank you for sticking with me through this weird little adventure, especially the cheesy-as-hell ending. Gotta get to those DCOM roots and end in the hamfisted moral.

In conclusion: I love my collection of disaster gays of various heights. I hope you've enjoyed them too <3