#also this was drawn from memory in math class so if I fucked up some detail Sorry I had NO ref pictures </3

[faithdragon36]

When the. Theme park construction guy

[ravenloftgm]

Faith Meade

Backstory of the best worst Ventrue.

As promised I'm gonna do big posts about all of my OCs and hyperlink them in my big OC post, and the one I've got brainrot about right now is Faith, so here we fucking go:

In life, Faith was the only child of an incredibly, incredibly mentally ill single mother. Her mum was a devout Catholic, but some sort of schizoaffective disorder or straight up schizophrenia led her to frequent episodes of believing her daughter was possessed by the devil, a sinner, an angel, etc. She was often punished severely, being deprived of things or even, on rare occasions, beaten.

Faith has an eidetic memory. She's a character in a text-based chronicle, so it's nice and simple to roleplay this, as opposed to in a tabletop game. She was the "weird kid" at her school - not being allowed to see 'satanic' movies or play video games, or generally experience anything normal, as well as remembering everything perfectly and often explaining things in too much detail, she wound up often taking lessons aside from the rest of her class, which did not help her to make friends.

While I don't have an eidetic memory, this is borrowed from my real life. I was hyperlexic and very good at math as a kid, and distinctly remember reading Anne Frank's diary in P5 while the rest of the class read with the teacher, and studying maths with the special education teacher in a private room rather than staying in the classroom. Unlike Faith, though, I had some solid friends despite this.

She did a little better in high school, but not much. She wasn't allowed to hang out with her friends outside of school, so she missed out on partying and sleepovers and such, and her relationships with the girls in her friend group just weren't as deep as the ones the other girls shared with each other. She continued to study at an advanced level, and was able to apply for, and get into, university at just 16 years old.

Faith did her best at university. She lived in student accommodation, rather than with her mother, so she had a lot more freedom. She made a few friends and mastered her social skills, and while she still couldn't go drinking with them all at clubs, she managed to secure her first boyfriend, get into video games, and catch up on some media she missed. She prioritised her studies, though, determined to wind up in a high-paying job so she could get her mother into some sort of mental health facility, and enjoy an independent life away from her forever.

Faith maintained her Catholicism throughout her life. While her mother wasn't well, she had grown reliant on religion to get her through her experiences, and she just wasn't willing to give it up. She tried not to think too much about whether or not she actually believed in it all - her faith was a choice she was making. She ended up finding a church that she liked, rather than the one her mother attended - one with an evening mass, so she could juggle studying and part time work with her religion. The priest, a rather attractive man, considering your average priest, was someone she felt quite drawn to. She regularly went for confession, as someone who is quite self-pitying and self-deprecating, but she also ended up helping out with fundraisers and community projects, really finding something to live for between this community and purpose, her new friendships, and her career prospects.

She graduated and started working as a Sales Trader, the youngest in her company, and proved to have an incredible knack for it. Nobody can predict patterns quite like everyone who has seen and remembered every pattern, after all.

It is worth noting now, that Faith is a naturally very curious person - she often managed to find out things she shouldn't know. Occasionally, she would share this information with clients - and this bad behaviour came up in confession from time to time.

How was she to know that her beloved local priest was a kindred? And a Ventrue at that? Watching her develop over her teenage years from a strange, yet intelligent teenager, into a perfectly amiable young woman with a highly profitable set of skills?

The worst part, really, is that isn't even the real reason he killed her. Perhaps she could have understood, if it had been.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

an (incomplete) list of things kon can do because lex luthor is his dad that people always forget about:

#1 : math - he's fifteen, and math comes easy to him (unlike a lot of people his age, or at least, his visible age.) a lot of things come easy to him, because when you have all knowledge in the known universe downloaded into your brain, things like advanced math don't bother you very much.

but it bothers his friends, because bart loses interest about three seconds into the assignments, cassie groans anytime "homework" is brought up in general, and tim hates the concept and execution of math so much that he'd rather hide in kon's room where he thinks no one will look for him instead of even cracking open a textbook.

but kon's pretty sure being a hero means you don't need any real world skills, and after his initial hesitation and disagreements, he realized that he genuinely wants these people to like him, to be friends with him. their math homework is easier than a breeze to complete.

#2 : tying a tie the ~fancy~ way - he's nineteen, and his fingers flow through a silk tie like a fish through water. the motions are beyond familiar, he could do them in his sleep. so is the action of pulling on a suit, pressing his collar, arranging his hair into a neat style. he's timothy drake-wayne's date tonight, and he needs to look the part. fortunately, luthor taught him how to look the part a long the ago.

the party itself is,,,,pleasant, he supposes. he spends most of the time as arm candy, tim's pretty little thing as his boyfriend sweet-talked investors and networked. but they both know that the tipsier people are, the easier they let slip secrets to someone they believe won't understand them, and kon gathers a wealth of information by the time he meets up with tim by the appetizer bar right before dinner.

tim tugs him close by his tie and kisses his cheek, then laughs when kon discreetly but disgustedly spits out the pickled salmon cracker toppings.

#3 : educated debating - he's sixteen, and in an argument with tim that's gone so off the rails that kon can't even remember what they were fighting about in the first place. wherever they started, they were here, now, kon on top of a table in an ice cream parlour screaming about how a socialist approach to taxes would boost the lower class, tim on top of a barstool screaming right back about how the middle class are the only ones paying taxes and socialism would only put more weight on their shoulders.

both of them are this close to busting out laughing, and the only reason they haven't been thrown out is because the employee behind the counter is frantically taking notes. kon can see it in tim's eyes, see the way the younger boy didn't expect to hold such a passionate and intense debate with him, didn't expect kon to be capable of it. it's a pleasant surprise, though; that much is evident in tim's barely-hidden grin.

the debate comes to a pause when bart smacks him with a spoon and tells him off for stepping on the speedster's ice cream, and the tiredness with which he collapses back into the booth is a good one.

#4 : efficient + effective workplace supervision - he's twenty, and wondering how in the hell people hadn't murdered the entirety of young justice when it was first founded. bart had graduated to being the flash's full time sidekick, and though he came to visit often, it wasn't the same. gotham was almost always on the verge of imminent disaster these days, and tim was one of the few ropes holding it together. kon missed him like crazy, but his few visits were all the boy could spare. cassie was in charge now, and she was a wonderful leader, but busy, always smoothing over relations between the team and the justice league and civilian offices.

so, somehow, that left kon to be the den mother to all the new younger kids, and somehow, kon was good at it. he knew exactly what to say to get people to listen to his commands, telling them to work on this or work on that, train for this and practice that. he tells them when to get some sleep and let the weight of the day roll off their shoulders, and when to push themselves to raise them higher than they ever thought they could go. unexpectedly, he finds himself liking it.

#5 : the splits

#6 : colour schemes + interior decorating - he's twenty-one, and tim's finally deciding to turn the nest into a home. bart, who had spent the last couple of years bouncing between allen-west-mercury households and was therefore accustomed to a home with a fire of love reaching every corner and every member of the family, was appalled. so was kon, honestly.

the penthouse that tim worked out of was cold and impersonal, sleek lines that angles that matched the limbs and contours of tim's body. but the shadows around tim's eyes had lessed over the past few years, his smile coming to his lips almost as easy as when young justice first learned how to work together. all it took was a little encouragement from cassie, and suddenly, all four of them were involved in a home renovation project.

cassie churned out ikea furniture like it was nothing, the three of them taking a break from their jobs to just watch her as she lifted one of their hardwood bookshelves with one hand. bart bought home goods and essentials from various department stores and ran around, stocking the house with them wherever he felt a saucepan needed to be hung (near the coat hanger) or a candle holder needed to be placed (on the kitchen barstools, because apparently those were decorative anyway).

kon, meanwhile, decorated. he painted rooms and bought curtains and pillows, yes. but he also sorted through every single souvenir and memory the four of them had managed to accumulate over the years, photographs and hacked-off pieces of giant robots and saved movie tickets and broken weapons. he gets his hands on everything he can find, then fills up tim's nest until it's brimming with a cosy warmth made up of the four of them.

still, it's an obnoxiously large penthouse, so there's empty and open space left over even after redecorating. it's tim who takes a breath and works up the courage to tell them, not ask but tell them, that he wanted each of them to have their own bedroom. so bart takes the largest guest room and turns it into an explosion of colour, and cassie spends too much time decorating a room that she won't even live in most of the time. kon conspicuously notes how tim doesn't bother giving kon a room, just dumps kon's backpack on his bed and clears room in his own closet. he does wrap tim in a ttk hug though, from all the way across the room, and drinks in tim's red flush.

#7 : speed reading (no powers) - he's seventeen, and just now realizing how competitive his best friends are. cassie had long since resigned herself to being the judge and the hander-outer-of-prizes (candy from the nearest convenience store) for the speed-reading competition, but tim, kon, and bart were still in the running.

eventually, though, the pressure from holding back his powers grew too strong, and bart slumped against the back of the sofa, mournfully opening his mouth so cassie could drop a candy into it.

and then there were two.

kon thought back to the confrontation that had started this contest in the first place, robin's offhand comment about how he had to be the one to collect the data files from the company office they were infiltrating, because he was the only one who could speed-read and retain information. that had spiraled into an argument, then a challenge, then a competition, with a clear rule not to use any powers.

kon darted his eyes across the page, soaking up every word, the pages like tiny knives on the pads of his fingers as he turned them. he lost track of the page count, just reading and reading and reading until he tried to turn the page and realized there wasn't a next one. he yelled in triumph, reveling in tim's defeated groan, and settled in for cassie's quiz on the contents of the book.

#8 : sophisticated meal and wine palette - he was twenty-two, and discovering that he really, really liked tim's shocked face. they'd been friends for years now, childish hatred turned into playful bantering turned into knowing each other inside out. still, every now and then, kon did something that forced tim's eyebrows high on his head, his eyes widening just the barest bit.

right now, kon was at a dinner party with the words moral support written across his forehead. tim could handle himself remarkably well, but there was tiredness lacing the smaller boy's frame, and kon could practically see the way the tips of his soul were frazzled. so kon let tim lean into his arm and whispered jokes about luna-with-the-big-ugly-purse and martonio-who-can't-do-a-combover into his ear. or, at least, he was.

somehow he'd been drawn into a good natured argument with the man sitting just two seats down from tim and kon. friendly opinions of food had been tossed back and forth, growing more and more heated until kon looked him right in the eye and said he liked prosecco with his prosciutto, internally crowing with satisfaction at their shocked silence and sighing with pity that none of the guests here would ever try that combination out of fear of deviation. once the man had regained his sensibilities, he shot back, saying the sixth course should never serve salmon, instead regaling the fish to the amusebouche or the cheese course. kon snorted and told him fish itself was going out of style, and if he wanted to impress guests at the next dinner party he hosted, he should try serving octopus.

tim's shocked face was a pleasant surprise, but seeing the stunned, controlled blinks of everyone around him as they realized he wasn't just a pretty face was satisfying as well. even more satisfying was when he and tim said their goodbyes; while waiting for the valet, tim pressed up onto the tips of his toes and whispered promisingly in kon's ear, i fucking love your competence.

#9 : manipulating people into hating him to justify his actions - he was eighteen, and he was screaming, crying, tearing his hair out. kon didn't know what he had expected. lingering fondness? grudging acceptance? maybe a small leap for a chance at love?

it didn't matter. clark didn't want anything to do with him. and he was eighteen now, which meant clark didn't need to take care of him anymore, didn't need to pretend to pay attention to him anymore. he'd made it quite clear.

maybe that was why he found himself hesitating before saying no to amanda waller's offer. he forgot about the warnings tim gave him, though, and waller pounced on that hesitation, quicker than a panther. it was easy, it was oh so easy to let himself go with her.

besides, they had a reason to hate him now. he hadn't done anything to clark. he hadn't asked to be made. but clark had wanted nothing to do with him anyway, and didn't that sting. so if people were going to turn him away now, it was going to be for something he did.

he didn't realize how bad he was spiraling, how close he was to stepping off the lighted ledge he'd been balancing on his entire life and tumbling into the darkness below. but cassie had a stronger punch than most grown superheroes, and bart had tenaciousness written into every strand of his ginormous hair, and tim gripped his jaw so hard his fingernails dug into kon's skin and told kon that he was getting his best friend back, no matter what the hell he thought he was worth.

maybe it was madness that made him throw himself forward, still wrapped in the lasso cassie borrowed from diana, practically mauling tim's lips with his own. he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to break down crying after he kissed someone, given past experience, but the three of them, his wonderful, wonderful friends, just hugged him tight, let him fight and shake and sob until all the rage was gone. it was the first time in a long while he'd done something in hopes that someone would look at him with love, not hatred.

#10 : waltzing - he was twenty-three, twenty three and giddy with how much time he had left. conner was with tim drake-wayne publicly now, so expectations were thrust onto him, expecting to be met.

kon tended to have more fun at events than tim ever did. granted, kon didn't have to deal with all of his coworkers drinking too much and exchanging money with secrets faster than drugs and asking tim whether or not his relationship meant he was open for still-young and handsome men who needed just a small escape from their wives. but tim wasn't trying very hard to enjoy himself either.

so kon was completely justified in tugging him towards the center of the room, in a patch of floor sparsely occupied, then pulling him as close as he dared. tim's panicked whisper of what!? was overridden by kon's laughter, but he muffled his sounds for a minute, letting tim hear the quiet music playing in the background (prerecorded and playing on speakers, not live).

understanding broke over tim's face, and he arched into kon's hold as easy as breathing. kon moved one of his hands to grip tim's wrist, and he twirled the two of them effortlessly, breathless at tim's flabbergasted expression. the rhythm was simple, and tim caught on quickly. one two three, one two twist, one two three, one two step, one two three, one two switch, one two three, one two three.

kon couldn't say they danced the night away, because a little while later tim took a break for a drink, then speeches were made, then dinner was served. by then, they were both entirely too tired to dance, longing for just a bed and a soft blanket and each other. but for those few minutes in the middle of a packed yet empty ballroom, kon and tim did lose themselves in the music, just a little bit.

i don't know shit about taxes or socialism. this got way longer than anticipated whoops. i'm tagging this "long post," but if someone asks me to put it under a cut, i'd be happy to

also jesus christ this thing is almost 2.5k words. im uploading it to ao3 later if i'm in the mood

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridg @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Maeve//i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you

Request: Could you please do something else with Maeve? Perhaps something where reader works with Maeve on an English project and she's surprised that they have so much in common. She realizes she has feelings for her somehow after that? Sorry that's sort of rubbish, have a swell day/night.

hey! what’s up everybody! i hope everyone is well, and i hope you like this!! title is from ‘the lakes’ by taylor swift! 

- English projects are never fun 

- I mean, who finds constant stress and a deadline that’s always far too close fun?

- Nobody

- That’s who

- Well apart from Mrs Jones

- Your year 9 English teacher who made every minute of her classes a living hell

- And who mysteriously went missing half way through the year after having a screaming match with a fellow English teacher

- When she was supposed to be teaching you Romeo & Juliet. 

- One day she was accusing Miss Newman of being a terrible teacher and purposefully bumping up students grades so she looked better 

- And the next day both her and Miss Newman were gone 

- And you only got a replacement teacher when you moved into year 10

- Right now though 

- Its seems Miss Sands is going through some stuff 

- Because not only did she give you an assignment on Friday with a deadline of Monday 

- She also chose your partners instead of letting you choose your own

- Which is why you’re stood outside of Maeve’s in the pouring rain

- On a frankly miserable Saturday morning 

- It seems the weather knew exactly what sort of weekend you were facing 

- And decided to make it even worse. 

- By the third knock 

- You’re about to give up 

- The curtains are still drawn 

- And you’ve seen more movement in a graveyard 

- Plus

- You kind of already assumed you would be doing the project alone 

- Maeve Wiley was known for being very...

- ...independant 

- And group projects are no different 

- You actually think she may be more independent during group projects

- So as soon as Miss Sands paired you together 

- You knew 

- You were 99% sure that 

- You’d do your thing

- She’d do hers 

- And then five minutes before the presentation 

- You would figure out a way to connect the two.

- Anywayyyy

- While daydreaming about a time when you won’t have any assignments 

- And making awkward, accidental eye contact with Maeve’s neighbours 

- The door in front of you opens 

- Simultaneously giving you a fright and almost knocking you out

- She yawns and scratches the top of her head 

- ‘what are you doing here?’ 

- She sounds both tired and annoyed and you blink at her a few times before answering 

- ‘er - i - the project. for english.’ 

- It takes her a few seconds to process what you’ve said 

- But when she does 

- She looks even more miserable than she did five seconds ago

- And you brace yourself for a long weekend 

- She sighs and rolls her eyes 

- Before slowly opening the door properly and letting you in

- You feel slightly nervous as you walk in 

- But you really have no idea why

- It’s not like she’s a complete stranger 

- But then again 

- She’s not exactly a friend 

- ‘don’t worry, i’ve hidden the drugs. i don’t really like to share anyway.’ 

- ‘what?’ you ask confused and she rolls her eyes again 

- She huffs and crosses her arms before nodding to the slightly messy living room

- ‘i get it. we’re a bunch of benefit fraud chavs that do nothing but drink and smoke all day.’ 

- ‘that’s not what i was thinkin-’ 

- ‘sure it wasn’t.’ she rolls her eyes and you stare down at the floor. ‘i need to get changed so make yourself at home I suppose.’ 

- She walks into what you assume is her bedroom and slams the door behind her 

- Leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room

- It’s small and slightly cramped 

- And most people would say that all the stuff makes it look busy 

- But to you 

- It’s wonderful 

- It’s filled with stories and memories 

- Some self explanatory 

- Some slightly more bizarre 

- Like the wonky blue and yellow clay swan living on the coffee table 

- You really want to know the story behind it 

- But decide it might be a little early in your partnership to start asking about her attachment to a half swan, half moth looking ornament

- So instead you pick up a pile of books on the dining table and move them onto the floor 

- You can hear Maeve opening and closing drawers while humming a familiar tune 

- And you feel yourself relax slightly as you place your laptop and books where the books were previously sat 

- Even if it does feel like you’re using all of your braincells to try and figure out where you’ve heard it before 

- ‘wow, do you actually trust me around that?’ 

- ‘what?’ you stop humming and look up at her 

- She looks between you and the laptop, staring at you expectantly 

- ‘oh no. i mean of course i do.’ you blush and she shakes her head before sitting opposite you 

- ‘so what do we know about women in fiction?’ 

- ‘historically they are written as either a femme fatalle type or some sort of innocent angelic being.’ 

- ‘they still are’ 

- ‘true’ you agree and flick through your textbook

- ‘why don’t we write about that then?’ 

- ‘what? how we’re still depressingly far back in the equality movement, despite being told otherwise?’ 

- She stares at you for a few seconds 

- A mixture of shock and surprise 

- Before nodding 

- And smiling 

- An actual genuine smile 

- You didn’t even know she could do that 

- Well you did 

- Of course you did 

- But you just haven’t seen it a lot 

- Usually when you see Maeve 

- She’s either mad, grumpy or very, very, very angry

- But her smiling 

- Puts a smile on your face 

- And this was definitely not where you thought this was going 

- ‘yeah...that’ 

- ‘okay.’ you shrug. ‘you can do classic literature because i know you prefer them and i’ll cover modern works.’

- ‘how do you know i prefer classics?’ 

- ‘the pile of books’ you nod towards the floor and she follows your gaze, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. ‘they’re all ripped and folded. you either love them or really, really hate them’ 

- ‘okay’ she eyes you suspiciously as you focus on your laptop 

- And you can feel your cheeks heat up under her gaze 

- However as quickly as they were there 

- They disappear 

- And the two of you fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence. 

- After about half an hour 

- Maeve stops what she’s doing to stretch 

- ‘is it okay if i play some music?’ 

- ‘sure, it’s your place. do what you want...as long as its not awful’ 

- ‘and what constitutes as awful?’ she asks, a smirk playing on her lips

- ‘well’ 

- And with that one question 

- Your entire day disappears in front of you 

- Laptops and books are closed and long forgotten 

- And instead you talk about music and movies 

- Books and plays 

- Characters that you love and hate 

- And the fact that her favourite character is the one you hate the most 

- She makes you lunch while you debate between movies and books and which adaptations are good

- And which ones should never have been made

- And you clean up and apologise profusely after a stray cushion (possibly thrown by you) ends up knocking the pan over 

- Surprisingly 

- She finds it quite funny 

- And you let out a relieved sigh

- Soon the sun goes down on another day 

- And you’ve barely written two paragraphs done between you

- ‘do you want to stay?’ she asks while your putting your jacket on

- If she’d asked you that this morning 

- You would have thought she had lost it 

- But now it feels almost inevitable 

- And you feel genuinely lucky to be asked 

- Not many people get to know Maeve 

- The real her 

- And that last person she told all of this to broke her heart 

- Very publicly 

- And she told herself she would never let herself be that vulnerable with someone ever again

- But this just feels right 

- For some reason you feel right 

- She feels safe with you 

- And part of her hates herself for it 

- But then again 

- She hates herself for not getting to know you sooner

- She feels far too attached to you 

- And it’s barely been twelve hours 

- You of course agree to stay 

- Shocking yourself and her 

- And while she sorts to sofa out 

- You excuse yourself to the bathroom 

- Under the pretences of telling your parents where you are 

- It takes two seconds to text them 

- And the other 28 to ask yourself 

- What the fuck are you doing? 

- Why are you agreeing to this? 

- Why do you feel like this? 

- What are you feeling?

- Who knows?

- Not you 

- Great 

- Now you’ve been in the bathroom for a suspicious amount of time 

- Just get it together, Y/n

- It’s just a study sleepover 

- Maeve gives you a questioning look as you leave 

- ‘you know how mums are. always worrying about where you are and what you’re doing’ 

- ‘i wouldn’t actually’ she shrugs and your eyes widen 

- ‘oh shit, sorry. i’m so sorry. god, i’m an idiot.’

- ‘it’s fine’ she forces a laugh and you wince. ‘i got you an extra duvet and little women is ready to watch so i can show you that the book is better’ 

- ‘that’s not what i said and you know it’ 

- ‘i’m sorry. i can’t hear you over the sound of me being 100% right and you being 100% wrong.’ 

- ‘you may be good at english, but you suck at maths’ 

- The next day you wake up to the sun shining through the curtains 

- And a clump of Maeve’s hair in your mouth 

- You splutter and cough and wake her up quickly 

- And she jumps away from you and smacks her head of the table 

- The two of you ended up moving the blankets to the floor while watching Pride and Prejudice 

- And neither of you bothered to move back 

- Maeve yawns and scratches her head

- Exposing a small part of her stomach and you feel yourself become a little breathless 

- ‘are you okay?’ 

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and she eyes you suspiciously 

- ‘whatever’ she shrugs and starts making breakfast 

- You watch as she pours to bowls of cereal

- Giving you the last of the milk 

- And for a second you’re a little worried as to how she knew you liked it 

- But then you remember that she also likes it and you had a whole discussion about the best and worst types of cereal at 2am 

- And half way through breakfast 

- You remember the original reason you’re here 

- And both of you curse loudly 

- Before rushing to finish eating 

-You get half way through your project 

- When Maeve asks if you want to go out for a bit 

- And well 

- She doesn’t need to ask you twice 

- And by the time you come back 

- The feeling you had last night returns 

- And has settled in your stomach 

- For the foreseeable future it seems 

- It makes you feel both light and heavy at the same time 

- And when you look at her 

- You feel dizzy 

- So you rush to finish the project 

- So you can go home and pretend nothing has changed 

- And yeah 

- With the need to leave 

- You get the rest of the assignment done fairly quickly 

- But you end up leaving feeling more confused about Maeve as you did when you started this 

- Maybe Miss Sands was right about a weekend project 

- Any longer and you would have gone insane trying to figure out whatever the hell this is 

- You just have to get through tomorrow and then you’ll be okay 

- Everything will go back to normal 

- You and Maeve can go back to being neutral to each other

- And you won’t have to deal with all of these confusing feelings that have decided to make an appearance for some reason 

- Wellll

- Turns out Miss Sands was wrong 

- A weekend is not enough time 

- And the first few presentations are awful 

- To put it nicely 

- So you spend the next week in a permanent confused state 

- Confused as to why you start looking for Maeve whenever you enter a room

- Confused as to why your heart skips a beat whenever you hear her laugh 

- Confused as to why you never want her stop talking in class 

- Even if the bell has rung and it’s lunch 

- Confused to why you keep looking for excuses to go over to see her 

- Despite your assignment being long done 

- And even more confused as to why you feel anxious when you’re waiting for her to answer the door

- The next Monday rolls around both painfully slowly and far too quickly 

- And while you wait for Ola and Danny to finish their presentation 

- Your hands shake with anxiety while your grip your papers 

- Maeve reaches over the table and gives them a reassuring squeeze 

- But it just makes them shake more and she slowly pulls back 

- Your turn can’t come quick enough 

- But then it’s over far too quickly 

- And you slump back down in your seat disappointed 

- Despite Miss Sands’ praise 

- Because it’s over 

- You no longer have an excuse to hang out with her 

- You never talked before 

- So why do you care about after 

- But there’s so much about her that you want to know

- Like the weird swan/moth hybrid 

- And the ugly plate that sits on top of the bookshelf 

- You want to be part of these stories 

- You want to be able to point to these things and say

- ‘yeah, i know exactly why that is special to you’ 

- You want to be the reason to add to this random collection of stuff 

- You want her to smile when she looks at them because they’ll remind her of you 

- You want her to smile when she looks at you 

- ‘y/n? are you okay?’ she asks making you jump 

- The classroom is now empty and you didn’t even notice the bell go 

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and grab your bag

- ‘are you sure?’ she grabs your arm forcing you turn around 

- ‘whats the weird swan thing on your coffee table?’ you ask and she furrows her eyebrows at you. ‘it’s just i saw it when i first came over and i really want to know the story behind it’ 

- ‘oh. aimee went through a pottery phase last year and that was the only thing she made that didn’t have a hole in it.’

- ‘and the plate?’ 

- ‘birthday present from my neighbours’ 

- ‘they got you a plate?’ 

- ‘yeah, they don’t have any kids’ 

- ‘clearly’ 

- Silence fills the room and you stare at the peeling posters behind her head 

- You can feel Maeve move closer to you and your breath hitches when she stops a few centimetres in front of you 

- She grabs your hand and squeezes it again 

- And your heartbeat increases 

- ‘y/n?’ 

- ‘yeah?’ 

- ‘i’m really, really confused right now. like more confused that i have ever been in my life. but what i do know, is that if i watch you walk out of that door without saying anything first, then i’d regret it for the rest of my life. i’ve only ever felt like this about boys before, but now i feel this and more about you and i have no idea where it’s come from or what i need to do, but i do know i need to tell you. because otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair for either of us’ she whispers and you stare at her wide eyed 

- ‘can i kiss you?’ she asks and you nod your head quickly 

- Slowly she leans in

- Her eye flutter closed and you follow 

- Your lips brush over hers 

- Her hands wrap around you waist to pull you close

- And then your lips connect 

- And you feel everything change 

- She kisses you slowly 

- And when you pull away you both feel breathless 

- Her cheeks are bright red 

- And there’s a shy smile playing on her lips as she looks at you bashfully

- And all of a sudden you feel really grateful for Miss Sands and her personal issues 

- Although you really hope they are resolved now 

- For your sake as well as hers

support my writing! if you want! 

[violetwolfraven]

Crossover Headcanons

((I know I have requests in my inbox but I just had to get this out of my head. Also I probably won’t be posting those requests for a while because my writer’s block is only barely starting to lift, so...))

Anyway this is gonna start off from one perspective and go to more later. Enjoy. 💜

Tw: past death, nightmares

...

So this is a... spin-off? Of the reincarnation au? An alternate timeline? A variant? Whatever it is the newsies are reincarnated and remember their past.

Also somehow most of them are going to the same college here, (I’m not going to say which one because I don’t want to research colleges right now) even if they’ve got a wide range of majors.

There’s only one dorm building even if people are only allowed to share a room with someone of the same gender.

This works out well for Elmer, because he’s pretty happy to be rooming with his boyfriend, Buttons.

But then he gets up to the floor their dorm is on and almost drops the box he’s holding.

Because it’s fuckin her. His national-level math nemesis since 11th grade. They’ve only faced off twice, the first time with her team winning and the second with his winning, but they’re each the only one who can beat the other in a math competition.

Elmer can see the shock in her eyes as she recognizes him and shouts YOU and then she’s stomping over to him aggressively enough that he’s pretty sure she wants to throw down physically.

Jack (who’s also on that floor with Davey) figures that too, and steps in front of him before she gets too close, but that girl acts like she doesn’t even notice him and shouts I WAS HALF A SECOND BEHIND YOU SOLVING THAT PROBLEM!

Elmer is kinda terrified but he defensively shoots back well I still solved it first and moves around Jack because this is his math nemesis and his fight.

The girl scowls at him for a couple more seconds then just sticks out her hand to shake, and Elmer realizes that he doesn’t actually know her name beyond the surname he’s seen on the back of her mathletes jacket. She introduces herself as Cady Heron.

Elmer Kazprzak, he responds, and Cady looks like she’s trying not to laugh, but he figures that’s probably fair, with how ‘Elmer’ was a common name in 1885 but not so much in 2003.

Jack clears his throat so Elmer introduces him but forgets that this isn’t their high school so things like oh this is Jack. He’s basically my dad. are weird.

Cady definitely thinks it’s weird but she doesn’t question it. Instead she just asks where Elmer is living, and it turns out, of course, he and Buttons are right next door to her and her roommate, Karen.

(I say Cady is living with Karen because Gretchen wanted to live with Regina and rules be damned Janis is with Damien.)

Elmer isn’t completely sure he’s not going to get murdered in his sleep but he guesses if he could handle the 1899 Newsboy Strike and World War I he can handle Cady Heron.

Meanwhile Katherine is going to Harvard so Sarah is rooming with someone she’s never met and she’s a little nervous.

And in stomps a girl who declares I’m a lesbian and if you have a problem with that tell me now so I can switch dorms.

And Sarah responds with my girlfriend out at Harvard would be pretty pissed at me if I did have a problem with that.

The girl lets her guard down, explains that she comes from a small town, and says her name is Alyssa Greene.

After that little bump, they get along good. Alyssa explains that her girlfriend, Emma, registered late and couldn’t get a dorm with who she wanted.

And Sarah’s just kinda like wait Emma as in Unruly Hearts Emma? Alyssa’s just like yeah!! I’m so proud of her!!

Sarah brags a bit about how Katherine is studying to be a journalist with a specialty in queer stories and long story short they become besties and eventually Alyssa introduces Emma for real and Sarah introduces Smalls and Sniper.

Emma and Alyssa are a bit thrown by the whole nickname thing but hey whatever now they have a Lesbian Club!

They do meet up with the boys occasionally but the Lesbian Club meets on a video call with Katherine every Saturday.

Anyway Jack meets Janis in art class and initially they kinda think each other is weird because their styles are very different but then they get in an actual conversation and get along amazingly.

Jack is definitely a fan of Janis’s philosophy of when someone hurts your friends you attack and grind your foe into the ground.

Janis tells her new bestie about Cady and Damien (and Regina, Gretchen, and Karen, though she still keeps Cady and Damien closer than the former Plastics) and she’s honestly shocked by the amount of friends Jack tells her about.

She does recognize some names, though. Romeo and Damien are both theatre majors and they’ve become friends.

But anyway Jack and Janis are like. Super good friends. Art buddies. Mlm/wlw solidarity. Protective friend pals.

Janis is pretty surprised when she introduces him to Cady and they’ve already met, and apparently oh fuck your math nemesis is Jack’s Elmer???

Jack’s just going oh fuck Elmer’s math nemesis Cady is Janis’s Cady???

Also Regina met Spot and Sarah at the gym and now they meet up with a few other people every other week to throw down like their own personal fight club.

At first Regina was just angrily trying to fight with no technique, but don’t worry, Spot and Sarah teach her.

There weren’t a ton of out gays at Northshore High, so yeah the Mean Girls crew definitely gets along with the Newsies crew out of solidarity.

Janis and at least one of the Plastics but I can’t choose which one(s) join the Lesbian Club.

Meanwhile Race is super hyped to meet Emma cause like I choreographed a dance to your song wanna see???

Emma is flattered but kinda weirded out and she mentions her friend Angie who’s a dancer too and Race is just *error 404*

Cause of course he saw the news story and knows Emma knows these 4 big Broadway stars but it just. Hasn’t connected until this moment that she like has their numbers.

He tries not to freak out too much cause he knows that’s weird but Emma eventually goes do you wanna meet her? And Race goes do I wanna meet her? She’s only my IDOL!! she’s been dancing like 20 years and she’s still got it!!

Emma calls Angie partially because she likes her new dancer friend and wants to make him happy and partially because she wants to prove to Angie that people do appreciate her zazz and despite how she was just a chorus girl until a few months ago this random boy from New York has been a fan since he was 12.

Angie can’t exactly fly over at the drop of a hat but she watches some videos on YouTube of Race dancing and like holy hell this kid is good. And his friends are too but this kid right here has zazz off the charts.

When she finds out he’s an orphan she’s lowkey can I adopt him??? but then she finds out he already has an adoptive mother and it’s Medda Larkin.

Medda Larkin who did more than a few shows with Angie when they were young but left Broadway to open her own theatre.

They fell out of touch years ago but still follow each other on Instagram and stuff.

But Angie shows Barry and Dee Dee and she’s super excited like remember Medda Larkin??? THIS IS HER ADOPTIVE KID AND HE’S AMAZING

And they watch YouTube clips of Emma’s new friends in high school shows and like wtf these kids are fuckin talented why aren’t they on Broadway???

They almost tell Emma to tell her friends to drop out of college and come straight (haha not that straight) to Broadway but Trent is like wtf no education is important.

Whatever the actors aren’t that relevant.

Sarah has a nightmare about her death one night. And with the others it’s not as big of a deal because they’re all rooming with each other, but Sarah’s roommate isn’t one of them.

She thinks Alyssa is asleep so she calls Katherine crying about how scared she was, how guilty she felt to be leaving her brothers and friends and Kath without a goodbye.

And Alyssa isn’t quite awake, but she’s awake enough that she hears Sarah whisper about how everything is just so stupid complicated. I shouldn’t be afraid of dying when I’ve done it before—when we’ve all died horribly—but I still am, Kitty. I can’t stop being afraid.

Alyssa is out of it enough that she falls back asleep, but when she wakes up she knows what she heard. That her roommate thinks she had a past life and died and implied that all her friends did.

Emma notices she’s acting weird and when she asks what’s wrong she tells her.

They both know it sounds crazy, but...

Emma tentatively points out some weird things about their friends from New York.

She’s study buddies with Race and occasionally he points something out she got wrong on her history homework. Something so small and inconsequential that it would’ve been almost impossible for him to know unless he was there and remembered from experience.

Smalls and Sniper have a habit of jumping apart if they were so much as holding hands and someone walks in on them, even though they come from a mostly accepting city with an accepting friend group.

That whole group straight up skipped history class the whole week they were learning about World War I and refused to make up the work.

They bring the half-baked theory to Janis who immediately remembers all the times she’s seen Jack draw small war-torn towns in France and dirty city streets and an outdated skyline as if seen from a rooftop, all of them too detailed to be anything but directly copied from something Jack has seen before.

But the question is if they’re drawn from a reference photo or a memory.

Cady realizes, upon hearing the theory, that Elmer and Buttons never take her up on offers to come to football games because they don’t like the noise.

More specifically, she remembers the look on her nemesis/frenemy’s face when he said he didn’t like fireworks.

Aaron notices that Davey always solves math problems by hand. He never uses a calculator unless someone reminds him it’s an option. And half the time, he defaults to using his right hand with terrible handwriting even though he’s left handed. Almost like he was raised with the whole ‘left hand devil’ thing, which doesn’t make sense because he went to a public school; not a religious one.

Damien realizes that Romeo has a habit of correcting the costume department, like he knows the period clothing for Hello, Dolly! better than they do. It annoys the hell out of them because upon some research, he is always right.

Regina notes how Spot and Sarah fight like they’re fighting for their lives in a street brawl. She knows that because she started taking karate in an attempt to win fights. She noticed months ago that her friends use technique that’s barely sustainable, like they’re just trying to stay alive until they can run or backup comes.

However all this is just fun and games, a crack theory they’re all mildly creeped out by but don’t really believe, until Gretchen finds it.

An article on the Newsboy Strike of 1899.

There’s a copy of the Newsies Banner, written by Katherine Plumber, which references strike leaders Jack Kelly and David Jacobs.

But they could write that off as just a creepy coincidence if not for the photo.

It’s the one Katherine and Darcy took that first day, which is in black and white and not the greatest quality, but clearly shows a lot of familiar faces.

A later story by this Katherine Plumber documents lives of street kids with interviews from kids with the same odd nicknames as the group they know.

Regina was the most cynical about this theory and even she can’t deny it now. There’s just too much evidence.

Especially when Karen finds Crutchie’s obituary, but Regina stops her from showing it to anyone else because that’s just too creepy.

The Mean Girls crew and Alyssa and Emma are... unsure if they should confront their friends about this, because a) this is freaky and b) the newsie gang is clearly still harboring trauma due to their deaths.

Plus, as Damien points out, being gay was illegal in 1899. Do you think they want a reminder of how they had to hide their feelings for each other back then?

Emma and Alyssa share a knowing look because they know what that’s like.

In the end Karen lets it slip when she asks Davey a question about her history homework involving World War II, mistakenly believing he was there.

Davey naturally questions her about it and she spills the entire story about how Alyssa heard Sarah’s phone call and they figured everything else out from there. She even shows him the article with the 1899 photo and the Newsies Banner.

And... shit, there’s a lot of memories behind that picture. And that’s them, over a hundred years ago, when they were kids and they weren’t all the same age like this time around.

The old Davey looks so big compared to Romeo and Elmer and god was Specs tall for a 15-year-old.

Davey didn’t even meet Smalls and Sniper in this lifetime until they were 16, but in that picture they’re only 13 and they’re so small.

A sidenote on Katherine has a picture of her in a hairstyle he hasn’t seen her in since 1917.

It’s a mixture between ptsd and nostalgia and Davey can’t decide whether to freak out or be happy.

He takes the article to Jack and tells him about how Gretchen found it and their non-reincarnated friends know.

Jack’s silently cursing the fact that he really should have been more careful with what he drew around Janis, but it’s kinda a relief that they know, honestly.

He shoots a quick text to the group chat and then turns his phone on do not disturb mode while he sits Janis down for a little chat.

He doesn’t go into graphic detail, but he does tell her an abridged version of everything. How they were basically a family and all lgbt+ in the early 20th century and how they died before their time and got a second chance.

It’s more than a little freaky for Janis, but it does explain a lot.

Such as how Jack demonstrates on a dare that he can still do some parkour because once upon a time, he used it to run from the cops.

Elmer tells Cady he’s so quick at math because he used to have to calculate change quickly and later had to help Jack and Davey come up with battle plans based on numbers vs tactics and terrain.

Regina definitely trusts Spot’s combat advice a lot more now because he was essentially a gang leader as a teenager and it has literally saved his life.

Race admits to Emma that her song made him cry because... in this lifetime he might not have had to be closeted, but in his last he was constantly worried about getting arrested or worse if people found out not just about him and his boyfriend, but his friends. His family.

Emma may or may not collaborate with him after that to write a song about how much it hurts to be closeted for your own safety and how much better it feels to be free to be who you are. Race dances in the music video and many of the other newsies make appearances but it’s mainly him and Emma. Spot and Alyssa cry when they see it. Damien does, too.

Who am I kidding everyone cries.

They get like 4 million hits on YouTube and it’s amazing.

The title is probably In the Light or something.

Also Cady, Aaron, Kevin, and Elmer form their own college level mathletes team and no one can beat them.

(Kevin’s not as close with the main group literally only because I don’t know that much about him as a character.)

(Also Stacy, Kailey, and whatever their boyfriends’ names are might be there somewhere but I don’t know them either.)

Katherine does get to meet the new kids in person eventually. And also I didn’t mention this earlier but Specs goes to Harvard too and he comes to visit too.

The power when the Lesbian Club finally gets to meet all in person? Unparalleled.

:)

[softboyscully]

Public School Stuff I Wanted to Share

public school is both beautiful and horrifying am i right

so ill just go by the grades i guess

Kindergarten, first year

i did kindergartden at a catholic school in a relativly big city so this one’s got some shit

we went to church every wednesday, me and best friend (lost track of her when we moved, wish we’d stayed in touch, she was awesome) would giggle the whole time, pretty sure we made fun of jesus once, can’t remember why, possibly the hair

i had the nicest teacher, she was (as i remember her) young, blonde, and super sweet, that was the first and last year i ever had naptime

SPEAKING of naptime

i never slept during it

once i found what i remember being a nut of some sort on the ground, probably came off someone’s shoe

i grab it, turn to sarah (my best friend), say something about putting it up my nose

sarah, apparently having common sense, says, “no dont do it!! we’re supposed to be sleeping!!”

i put it up my fucking nose

try to get it out, just push it farther in

im crying a little bit now, that shit hurts

go up to my teacher

“you’re supposed to be asleep!”

“i have a nut up my nose and it wont come out”

teacher tries to get it out, but it wont budge

just. sends me back to my mat

that was it

the art room was tiny

like re-purposed broom closet tiny

there was a copy of the mona lisa in the hallway, someone had drawn ray bans on it with a pencil, never got replaced

there was a creepy-ass basement i went down to after school, we ate cheeseballs and sandwiches with some kind of meat, mayo, and that kinda yellow bread

someone broke his leg down there once, think an older kid threw him at the ceiling or something

we learned how to play Silver Bells with actual bells in music class

Kindergarten, second year

i remember these two teachers as the evil step sister-type look, but it might be my little kid imagination

but seriously they were horrible

we learned stuff in a room that was more middle-school styled, except everything was green or black and it was v dark

me and sarah attained a new friend, john

honestly i think we would’ve stayed friends for a while if i didnt move away

i have two vivid memories

one is of me really wanting to go home, so i walked by the teacher’s desk and did a fake sneeze

they laughed at me and told me to go sit back down

the other is  john leaning his chair back and then falling, so me and sarah went to help him back up

it was funny, so he did it again

and again

me and sarah were laughing, had the time of our lives

after the maybe fifth time the teachers said “john can get back up by himself. sit down and stay there.”

one of the reasons we moved was bc i got sent a letter from my fourth grade buddie

most of the words weren’t spelled correctly, many letters were backwards

my mother was horrified

ofc now we know it was probably a learning disability 

1st grade

this is when i moved

beginning of school i was ASTOUNDED we didnt have uniforms, one of the best things ever to happen to me

nothing wrong with this teacher, she was cool

thing is i was a little shit

told everyone my dogs died (they did but i was maybe three when it happened, i remember it not)

all my personal narratives were bullshit (only one sticks in my memory, wrote it about celebrating christmas AND hanukkah with my dad’s friends who were jewish, i have never even met those friends)

had a crush on this kid, best friend (she was terrible and helped wreck me emotionally) told me to kiss him in music class. me being a stupid ass bitch, i did it, aND HE GOES TO THE TEACHER AND CALLS ME OUT. at the end of class she gets both of us to stay for a bit, AND I DENYIED EVERYTHING. i walked across the fucking classroom, kissed him on the cheek, ran away giggling, told my teacher i didn’t do anything, AND GOT AWAY WITH IT. i’ve embarrassed myself further with this child but thats another story

2nd grade

i loved this teacher but honestly he was absolute shit

like. all he did was play the guitar and sing with us

never actually taught us stuff???

middle of the year, my mom goes in for a parent-teacher conference, he tells her i dont pay attention is math.

“what do you mean?”

“she doesn’t listen, she just takes out a book and starts reading.”

“........have you.... tried taking the book away?”

“sure, i could try that.”

“o....kay”

he also told her i’d be a girl who’d grow up to love spellcheck (which i do lmao)

like ???? why not just??? teach me to spell????

there was this one dude who one day showed up, gave me a pink stuffed cat, and then asked me where i lived

funniest thing was he lived on the same street as me

something that is vivid in my memory is showing up to class one day and realizing that i was wearing my regular clothes over my pajamas

also we had fish

every day someone else was in charge of feeding them

one of the times it was my job, i grab the fish food and walk over to the tank only to find all of the fish floating on the top

i screamed “THE FISH CAN FLY?!?!?!?!?!”

everyone ran over, all of us scarred for life when Mr. G walks over and goes in the most normal voice ever “no theyre dead”

we held a funeral

the cause of death is still undetermined

3rd grade

this year just draws a blank for me

all i know is that whoever the teacher was, they neglected to teach me how to tell time from a clock

also we learned the Cotten Eyed Joe dance in gym around here

4th grade

i had two teachers this year

one was the same one from 1st grade, the other one was a total bitch

made a girl named hannah ball her eyes out once, never apologized

i was (and am) and avid reader, so my reading skills were high above average

instead of being proud of me she told me i was weird, not normal, and too smart for a 4th grader, so i MUST be cheating. 

she was the start of a lot of self confidence issues for me ngl

this was around the time i went and got tested for ADHD (me and my grandmother almost broke down on the highway but thats another story), Mrs. M (the nice one) was super supportive when i told her why i was leaving early but Ms. S (bitch) told me ADHD wasn’t real and i just wanted to be special for once

she sucked, Ms. S

5th grade

this is getting super long so this’ll be the last one i do

but my teacher..... Mr. F was A+++++

he legitimately taught me math

we had i guess like,,, a buddie class we switched with sometimes

the teacher of that class was Mrs. R, who had crazy red hair and many freckles

at one point she referenced a meme and my entire class started screaming

also there was another Mrs. S (to differentiate this one will be called Mrs. Su)

she was kind of crazy

she was the astronomy teacher and she told us many times that the moon landing was faked

once she handed out sunscreen and had everyone put it on their whole body (this was in december, fyi)

Mr. F also hosted an ‘archeological dig’ which sounds cool but in reality he had a bunch of arcade prizes from his childhood buried in little flower pots we dug into with plastic spoons

also heres some stuff i cants pinpoint the time of/happened in multiple grades:

someone held a who-can-scream-the-most-like-a-goat contest

a guy named Makenzie won

remember we planned it while the teacher left the classroom so the teacher walks back in and one by one everyone in the room starts screaming, there was some applause, a few kids got a standing ovation

we cleaned out our desks in the middle of the year, i found 3 socks and a dog treat in mine

like how the fuck did any of those things get there

and where’s the fourth sock

b o t t l e f l i p p i n g

but no seriously there were at least five water bottles stuck in the ceiling in the cafeteria

my sorta friend charlie was obsessed with paper airplanes

one time he might’ve broken the world record for longest time in the air but he was counting in his head and it was at recess so there was no video

four square and gaga ball would be played no matter the setting, time, or conditions and it was super competitive

like if you could get to king in four square you got the everlasting respect of everyone

and everyone was super educated on four square special rules, special plays, that kinda shit

no but guys i grew up with bus stop, candy store, haunted house on mondays, haunted mansion on fridays, zombies was fair game unless it was Zach, Ryan, Chrissy or Vee

me and one other guy named andrew were the only known pjo fans, had the time of our LIVES making refrences

“HEY ANDREW IM NOBODY”

“I HAVE WAITED YEARS FOR YOU, NOBODY, COME HERE AND FACE YOUR DEATH”

“hey annabeth, i thought you looked like a princess when i first saw you. i printed out a picture you sent me casually and kept it with me. i snuck along on a quest so i could save you, endangering myself immensely. i held the sky for you. when you talk about your crush on luke, i get jealous. beckendorf understood, but hes dead.”

“ikr we’re literally the best of friends”

“RIGHT”  

also the first time we finished mark of athena we were in the same classroom and we individually dropped the book, stood up, looked at each other, and screamed “WELL FUCK YOU TOO RICK RIORDAN”

[playitaagain]

meant to be a pogue | Mayward

Request:  If you’re still taking prompts- Kook! JJ who falls in love with Pope the first time he every sees him. But Pogues aren’t really keen on kooks so queue jj tryin desperately to get popes attention and time any way he can

Warning: fighting, underage drinking, kook!JJ being awkward, mentions of child abuse

Author’s Note: Welp, this turned out longer than expected but I wanted to give a little background so this happened. The time jumps aren’t my favorite, but the story needed it.

JJ goes to impress some girl. It’s silly really. He doesn’t usually go for the smart ones, but she seems nice enough and he was up for the challenge. It was pretty well known that he was a player and normally the smart ones didn’t go for him either. They were too smart for that, but she’s shown a bit of interest so he figured he might as well go for it. 

He honestly didn’t know they had a mathlete team. He normally wouldn’t be caught dead at some event like this, but he was trying to impress her. It was easy really. He went up before it all started, smirk on his lips and shot her a few compliments. She giggles and smiles and twirls her hair a bit and he knows he’ll be fine.

But then the meet starts.

JJ can’t take his eyes off him. This boy - Pope he learns as the meet goes on - answers almost all of the questions for the other team. Actually, he answers almost every question of the meet, basically wiping the floor with the competition. 

JJ is impressed. He doesn’t know why. Pope is enchanting though. He rambles a bit with each answer, dragging the meet out a bit longer than it would normally last. He says everything in a tone that doesn’t make you feel stupid and JJ doesn’t even know how. The few questions his team, including the girl he was actually here for, answered made him feel stupid, like he should know these things. Pope didn’t make him feel like that. Pope actually said it in a way that made it easy to understand. 

And okay. JJ has never looked at someone and instantly lost his breath or had his heart pound when he heard their voice. It was stupid really, like something described in a movie. It leaves him a bit confused, especially when the girl starts to talk to him after the meet, complaining about Pope in a condescending way that rubs JJ the wrong way. 

“Just because he’s smarter than you doesn’t mean you can drag him like that.” JJ has never really had a filter, but his eyes widen at the words and the shock is mirrored on the girl’s face as well. She simply shakes her head and walks away. JJ doesn’t follow her. 

--------------------------

JJ finds him at the annual memorial day kegger and he’s had a lot of time to think. It’s been nearly four weeks since he last saw Pope and he’s managed to work through some of his feelings. It was a bit confusing when he realized he was attracted to a guy for the first time, but he did a bit of research, figured some shit out and realized that maybe it wasn’t so bad. He could do this. He just had to be careful about the whole thing. 

Pope is sitting by the fire with John B and Kie. The group is well known among the kooks, always causing trouble and stirring shit up. JJ usually stays out of it, but he knows Rafe and some of his goons have beat on the group a few times in the past. JJ is better known for beating on his fellow kooks rather than pogues. 

“Hey,” JJ says, because he’s standing in front of him now and he doesn’t know how to flirt with a guy. He’s never flirted with the guy before. “You were really good at the mathlete meet a few weeks ago.” Does complementing work with guys too? Girls loved that kind of shit. 

The other looks sceptical and JJ can tell John B is a bit on edge. It wasn’t really normal for kooks and pogues to mix even at parties and he figured it would raise some suspicion, but he hadn’t realized the other’s would be ready for a fight. 

“Ah, yeah, thanks man,” Pope replies, frown pulling down his lips as he glances at Kie. JJ recognizes her from a few of his classes. She doesn’t really hang out with anyone at their school. 

“I’m JJ,” he introduces. Why the hell was this so hard? He was totally screwing this up. 

“Pope.” He takes a sip of his beer, nodding his head toward John B, “This is John B and Kie.” 

“You’re in my math class, right?” JJ is trying to find something to talk about with them. He figures relating to Kie is probably the best bet at this point. She at least went to his school. 

“Yeah, I think so. You don’t exactly show up to class though.” And that breaks the ice. The four of them are laughing as JJ finds himself sitting in front of them, trying to defend himself, but knowing it is fruitless to do so. He barely shows up to class. 

He spends the rest of the kegger with the pogues. 

-----------------------------------

JJ finds that he fits in better with the pogues than he ever did with the kooks. The pogues are hesitant to let him hang out, but Kie vouches for him on a few occasions and he finds himself at The Wreck more times in the next few weeks than his whole life. 

The pogues are easy to hang out with. They surf, swim and go out on the boat all day when they aren’t working. These are all things the JJ prefers, reasons he doesn’t hang out with many kooks to begin with (because golf is fucking boring). It takes them a long time to actually invite him out on the boat, like it's some sacred pogue thing, but JJ says he’ll bring the beer and food and they finally crack a few weeks later. 

It isn’t just easy being around the pogues, but it’s easy being around Pope. The other is funny, kind, and level headed. He is everything the pogues are known for not being. JJ is drawn to him. He always finds himself setting next to him when they grab a bit at The Wreck. He sits next to him on the boat, legs touching and shoulders bumping. He always swims a little closer to Pope, laughs with him more. He doesn’t know if anyone notices, hopes no one does.

He swears he gets a vibe from Pope. The other doesn’t move away, doesn’t say anything when JJ invades his personal space more often than necessary (and yeah, JJ is a little touch starved, but they don’t know that). There have definitely been a few times that Pope has looked at him a little longer than necessary, eyes glancing down at his lips. 

But JJ could also just be making all of his up because he wanted it to be true. 

-----------------------------------

JJ has never gotten along with Rafe and his goons. There was a short period in junior high when he hung around Topper a bit, but the other always wanted to go to golf lessons and JJ was never interested. After that, JJ was quick to establish himself as a loner kook. 

It didn’t mean there weren’t times he didn’t hang out with the others. JJ was always looking for reasons to get out of his house and hanging out with kooks was an easy one even if it was often a lie. The problem was usually that the few times they hung out, it would end with JJ’s fist bloody and aching as he tried to calm himself down. 

This is no different. 

Rafe is standing in front of them, sneer on his face. JJ is used to his words. The off handed comments about his father always set JJ off and Rafe knows it. He does it on purpose. 

But he isn’t talking to JJ today. His eyes are firmly set on John B, “Does someone miss their daddy?” The words are condescending and teasing and JJ sees the way John B’s jaw clenches, seeing his fists tighten and sees his hand punch Rafe in the face. 

It immediately starts a brawl as the three on them go at it. The only problem is that JJ doesn’t want his friends involved. He’s dealt with this before, gotten out of many situations where it was three on one, but one look over at Pope, who has just gotten a fist in the jaw, and JJ knows he can’t get out of this so easily. He has to make sure Pope and JB are safe, make sure they’re okay because they’re his friends. He needs to protect his friends. 

So he rips Topper off Pope, shoving the other back with as much force as he can manage. Rafe is quick to punch him in the jaw. It knocks him back a few steps, but JJ catches himself, using as much force as possible to connect his fist with Rafe’s face. The other stumbles and lands on the ground and JJ can basically see the steam coming out of his ears as they stare each other down. “You’re just like your old man.” JJ lunges. 

He doesn’t know what happens next. He’s seeing red as he punches Rafe over and over again. It isn’t until Pope is behind him, pulling him off, telling him that that is enough before he finally takes in a deep breath, vision settling as he sees the crowd around them. Rafe is on the ground and his goons go to help him up. 

“This isn’t over,” Rafe says, blood dripping from his mouth before he turns to walk away, Topper and Kelce each holding an arm.

“Fuck,” JJ groans, fingers moving to his hair as he starts to walk away from the scene. Pope doesn’t say anything, simply follows after him with a grounding hand on his shoulder. 

———————————-

JJ shows up with bruises more often than he should. JJ always laughs it off, makes up random excuses that couldn’t be further from the truth. The pogues definitely don’t buy it, but they never push, they respect that JJ has some secrets he isn’t ready to reveal, will probably never reveal. 

Until he can’t hide it anymore. 

JJ has always liked the ocean. He remembers coming when he was younger, when his mother was still around. She used to hold his hand, teach him how to take deep breaths as the waves lap their feet. It was something he still did to this day. 

But he can’t hold himself up today. 

The darkness coats the sky, the moon shining off the water. The waves are rougher than usual tonight and JJ is basically soaked at this point, waves crashing against his chest, legs pulled up and arms wrapped around them in an attempt at comforting himself. 

“JJ?”

The words startle him, and he is quick to wipe at the tears dripping down his cheeks, frowning when the salt water stings the cuts that litter his face. 

JJ takes a moment to clear his throat, taking in a few deep breaths before he answers, making sure he doesn’t look at the other. The group has seen him patched up, but JJ has never shown up with fresh wounds before, ones that are harder to hide as blood runs over tan skin. “Out for a late night surf? The waves are killer tonight.” 

“Just needed to get away from my dad for a bit,” Pope answers and JJ can relate, but he’s sure in a totally different way. Pope’s dad always pressures him to do well in school, but he never hits him. JJ’s dad always starts and ends with hitting, coated with a bit of yelling. That was how he put pressure on him. “Why are you here?” 

“I’m just going for a late night swim, clear my head,” JJ lies, but it’s really only half a lie. He is here to clear his head, but he hadn’t really planned on it becoming a late night swim. He was probably going to get in trouble for ruining a perfectly good outfit. 

“In your clothes?” Pope is standing next to him now, hands in his pockets as he looks out at the horizon. JJ wants to look up, see what his expression is, but he knows he can’t. He can’t risk the other seeing his face. 

“It was spur of the moment,” he replies, letting his chin rest against his crossed arms. It’s starting to get a bit cold, causing a chill to travel up his spine. Pope doesn’t seem to notice as he takes a seat next to him, leaning back on his hands. 

“It’s peaceful without tourons.” And JJ has never wanted Pope to leave more. Actually, he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted Pope to leave before, but he wants to be alone right now. He wants to wallow in his own misery and forget about his shity life for a second. 

But then he is looking up again, his mother’s voice reminding him to just breath and he can’t help the tears that stream down his cheeks, shoulders shaking as he hides his face. He doesn’t know how Pope reacts, doesn’t bother looking up when he feels arms around him, pulling him closer and simply letting him cry.  

JJ doesn’t know when they leave. He also doesn’t know where the hell they are. The place is run down and shitty. Pope mentions something about the Chateau, but JJ can’t really place where he is referring too even though he’s heard them talk about it before. 

The couch is old, nothing compared to the expensive one he is used to at his house, but this one feels worn, loved, and comforting in a way JJ can only describe as homey, something that his couch will never have. The place is dim and messy and JJ is suddenly thankful for the lighting because there is still blood on his face and purple blotches forming on his skin. 

“I’m going to get the first aid kit,” Pope announces and JJ doesn’t even notice Pope’s hand on his shoulder until it is gone. He craves the comfort that it provided, the stability. It helped ground him in a way that only the ocean has been able to for years. 

JJ falls back against the couch, a groan leaving his lips at the ache in his side. Pope is in his line of sight again, frown pulling down his lips as he reaches forward. “Do you-?” He’s holding a face cloth, worn and frayed, out for JJ to take. 

JJ simply shakes his head, pain shooting through his chin at the motion. He doesn’t even know where to begin with his face and his arms are tired. He’s tired. 

Pope simply nods, doesn’t say anything as he presses the cold cloth to his face. JJ flinches at the touch, but doesn’t pull away, lets the other take care of him. He’s thankful when Pope starts to talk, words tumbling out of his lips. He never asks what happened, simply cleans JJ up and lets him fall asleep on the couch. 

-----------------------------

JJ blinks his eyes open the next morning, pain shooting through his cheek as he pushes himself up. The room is completely unfamiliar and instantly his heart is pounding as he looks around, trying to figure out where he is. It isn’t until he notices Pope in the corner that he calms down, taking in a deep breath. 

“Thank fuck you’re awake,” he hears, eyes flickering back to Pope. The other is leaning back in the chair across the room, looking awkward and uncomfortable as he pushes himself into a better sitting position. He looks worried. “I was fucking getting worried. It’s like noon.” 

JJ lets out a sigh as he pushes himself off the couch, eyes glancing around the dinghy place. He isn’t sure where he is, and it must show on his face because Pope is up now, explaining, “This is the Chateau, JB’s place.” JJ feels guilt suddenly as he looks around. He can’t imagine living in a house like this, small and worn. The paint was chipping and the wood looked like it was basically crumbling from years of abuse. 

But it looked like a home. And as JJ looks around, noticing pictures of JB and his family and friends, JJ can’t help the jealousy that bubbles. The place he calls home feels more like a prison than anything, the only picture of his family is a portrait that was painted when he was a child. This place was worn, but lived in and loved in a way JJ couldn’t even imagine. 

“I have to get home,” JJ says, because he is suddenly overwhelmed. These people have so much less money than him, but they have so much more than he could ever ask for. He would throw all his money away to have this kind of love and friendship in his house rather than the cold blank walls and the cruel touch of his father's hand. 

“What? You can stay here. JB won’t mind,” Pope insists, following him out the door. JJ takes a deep breath, sucks it right into his lungs as fast as he can. He has to lean over for a moment, hands on his knees and Pope’s hand suddenly on his shoulder. He finches away from the touch as he looks at the other. 

“I have to go,” he repeats but instead of heading to the road he heads towards the water. He nearly collapses on the dock, legs pulled up and fingers running through his hair. Pope doesn’t follow, he’s thankful as he listens to the waves, taking in a breath with each wave that hits the dock. He stays there until his breath evens out and he is able to fully realize how embarrassed he is. He just freaked out for basically no reason. 

He wants to just leave, make his way back home, but he doesn’t know where JB lives so he doesn’t know how to get home and his phone is long dead. It doesn’t matter anyway because Pope is sitting on the deck, book in his lap and feet resting on the table in front of the couch. He has a cup of what JJ assumes is coffee steaming on the table and he notices a matching cup next to it. 

JJ composes himself as best he can, tugging at his wrinkled shirt and tucking it in. He shakes his head and pulls it back out before he finally steps onto the porch. 

It’s another space that is clearly lived in. The couches are old and JJ sinks into the cushion as he takes a seat next to Pope, grabbing the coffee on the table. He’s surprised Pope made it correctly, surprised Pope paid such close attention since he’s only ordered coffee a few times at The Wreck. 

“My dad has a mean right jab,” JJ says, voice quiet as he takes a sip of his coffee. It’s hot but he could use the distraction. 

“That looks like more than a right jab.” Pope puts the book down, making sure to fold down the corner before he places it on the table. He grabs the coffee as well. 

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs and he doesn’t look at Pope, can’t look at Pope because it’s always pity when people find out. He doesn’t need Pope’s pity, doesn’t want it. He just wants to go back in time, run the other way when the other showed up on the beach. 

“But you don’t deserve it.” 

The words are new. There are very few people that know about his abuse but none have ever said that, none have said that he doesn’t deserve it. 

“I’m a failure.” He can hear his father. “I’m worthless.” He closes his eyes because he doesn’t want to cry, tries to hold the tears back, but they slip out anyway. They slide down his cheek and drip from his chin. 

He wants to drop it, to move on from this conversation, has a new topic on the tip of his tongue, but Pope is right in front of him, hand moving tentatively to his cheek. “Why would you say that? You’re not a failure and definitely not worthless.” 

JJ tugs his head away, out of Pope’s grip, as he lets out a puff of air through his nose. “Most people would disagree.” His father would disagree and that’s really the only voice that matters because it’s literally been hit into him his whole life. 

“JJ,” and JJ finally looks at him, blue meeting brown eyes as he looks into Pope’s. He sucks in a breath as he looks at the other, searching his eyes for any hint of his father's words, but he doesn’t find any. “I’ve only known you a few months and I know you’re not a failure. I know you’d do anything to protect your friends. I know you bring extra food on our boat trips just to make sure JB and I have snacks for the week. I know that you’re loyal and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you aren’t worthless.” 

And Pope is usually a rambler, but those words are crystal clear and they literally take JJ’s breath away. It’s so stupid really, because JJ is completely in love with Pope and the other didn’t even know it. He’s been in love with Pope for so long now and he doesn’t think he can hold it in any longer, not after that. 

So JJ leans forward, slow and steady, and lets Pope close that gap. To his relief, he does, pressing his lips to JJ’s, tentative and warm. It isn’t anything like the girls he’s dated in the past (if you can call a few days with the same girl dating). They were soft, needy in a way that JJ never liked. He actually stopped kissing his conquests after a while. Pope was different though, he was slow, but sure, lips firm against JJ’s without being demanding. The fingers on his face have calluses from working, rough against the cut along his jaw. 

JJ wants to stay like this forever, drown in the feeling of the other, but he has to pull back, has to get one more thing out before this goes any further. “My dad can’t find out,” he mutters because he knows the man won’t approve, has always made comments. It’s why it had taken JJ so long to even work up the courage to accept he had feelings for a guy nonetheless actually kiss said guy. 

“Yeah, okay, we can do that, we can-” and he’s rambling a little, obviously nervous so JJ simply leans forward to connect their lips again, happy when the other finally shifts so he can straddle JJ’s lap. 

“Fuck, took you idiots long enough.” The two spring apart at the words, both sets of eyes going to John B, who is currently standing at the top of his stairs, a mischievous smile on his lips. Pope slips off his lap and JJ instantly wants him back. “I mean, don’t stop on my account. I’m just grabbing some food before I head to my next job.” 

And they don’t stop. John B is in and out after only a few minutes and JJ instantly finds himself an arm full of Pope as he leans over to connect their lips again. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Surveys #417-419

Been slacking on posting these, so here’s like three surveys over the past few days divided up. I just don’t feel like posting them individually. Beware, it’s a long post, haha.

Do you believe that animals don’t have souls? I lean towards the idea that they, at least more complex species with actual sentience, do in some way. It's hard to imagine like, a fly having a soul, but it's a nice thought. You could NEVER convince me some don't, though, like my late dog Teddy, Sara's old chameleon Jem, and I could go on and on. Have you ever not been able to swallow pills? No, I've always been able to. If you HAD to change your first name, what would you change it to? Maybe like, Quinn. Something you don't hear a lot, for sure. Something more memorable. What are your thoughts on orange soda? Orange cream soda is BOMB. Man, been so long since I've had that stuff... Are you good with children and/or animals? Don't mean to brag, but people say I'm like a magician with animals. No matter what it is, I bond with it. Children, not so much. I'm awkward around them. Who in your life makes you smile the most? My cat, ha ha. If you were cremated, where would you want your ashes to be placed? Hm. Maybe high up in the mountains or in the Kalahari Desert. Do you plan on going to your high school’s reunion? No. I'm pretty sure I'd shatter from memories just entering the building. Would you want revenge on someone if they killed someone special to you? Or would you find it in your heart to forgive? "Forgive" my ass. They'd better get what's coming to them, even if I've gotta be the person to deliver it. Is there someone you are dying to see? More than I think anyone could possibly know. But it's probably better if I never do. Could you picture yourself getting married and having kids? Married, yes. Having kids, no. I could only picture that in one phase of my life, but like I called it: a phase. I should never be a mother, nor do I want to be one to begin with, so yeah, no kids for me. Do you like to take walks? If my legs were actually worth a shit, yes, I would, if it's in a nature-filled area. What are you listening to at this moment in time? "Thoughts & Prayers" by Motionless In White. Did you ever kiss someone with a tattoo? No. Could you say something good about the last person you kissed? She's very resilient. Why are you single? Because 1.) I'm a very unappealing example of an adult, 2.) I'm not exactly very attractive, and 3.) I'm basically a hermit, so I don't meet people. Do you get jealous if your boyfriend hugs another girl? Hypothetically, in almost any case, I wouldn't. My imaginary boyfriend can have female friends. But I'll admit if it was like, an ex-girlfriend or something and it was a seriously intense hug, I might. Is there something that happened in your past you hate talking about? Yes, but I mean, who doesn't. Have you ever been completely alone with a boy in his room? You make this sound so scandalous lmao. Yes, plenty of times. I dated a dude and briefly lived with him for three and a half years. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for? No. Who was the last person that you cried in front of? I'm sure it was Mom. Is it hard for you to be “just friends” with the opposite sex? Nah. Do you remember every single person that you’ve kissed? Yeah. Do you believe that the world will actually end? Humanity, oh yeah. The planet itself, given the infinite nature of the universe, also yes. At SOME point, even if it's zillions of years down the line, Earth is gonna get fucked by something. Are you socially awkward? I am the literal avatar of "socially awkward." Would you rather watch a comedy movie or horror movie? Horror. Who is your favorite actor/actress? MARK IS A FUCKIN' ACTOR, Y'ALL. Are you satisfied with your gender? Yeah. Are you good at admitting your problems? HA! Yeah. ezpz Have you ever had a hangover? No, never been drunk to begin with. Do you know any strippers? No. How many times have you dyed your hair? I ain't counting. What is something that reminds you of your childhood? Dinosaurs. Do you think you eat healthy? I try to. I have my bad days, though. Are you sick quite often or hardly at all? My immune system is the fucking MVP. I am just about never, ever sick. Has anyone suspected you of being a different sexuality? Yes. Do you like chocolate or vanilla cake more? Chocolate, duh. Does it bother you to have blood drawn or not so much? Nah, no biggie. Has your cell phone ever rung in class? Omg no, I woulda been mortified. Have you ever tried opening your eyes under water? Yeah, as a kid. Would you rather have a cat or a dog? I prefer cats. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? Like... six times, I wanna say. What would you say is your favorite type of flower? Orchids, but I also love dahlias. I've actually noticed that I've really had a greater "thing" for flowers lately. Like don't get me wrong, I've always loved flowers very much, but I've just found myself more drawn to them than usual, especially when taking the daily hour ride to the TMS office. Do you watch Toddlers and Tiaras? FUCK no. That show disgusts and angers me so much. If someone asked you to go to war today, what would you say? Yeah, no. Funny joke. I couldn't go anyway due to mental health issues and a suicidal history. Do you own an old vintage typewriter? We used to when I was little. I have no idea what happened to it, though?? Hell, maybe we still have it somewhere, but I doubt that. Do you like or hate the smell of fish? Ew, does ANYONE like the smell of fish??? Have you ever read any of John Green’s books? I got a few pages into The Fault in Our Stars, but stopped for no real reason. I didn't not like it or anything, I was just still in my "I don't read" episode. Are you a protective person? VERY. I'm a fucking guard dog over those I love most. Are you a fan of penguins? Yeah, they're cute. I especially think emperor penguins are very majestic. Have you ever met your favorite author? I don’t have a favorite author. Did you get your mom or dad’s eyes? Neither's. I think my maternal grandpa had blue eyes, though? I'm not sure at all, though. When was the last time someone bought you flowers? Not sure. Has there ever been a murder in your town? "A" murder? Thems is rookie numbers for my neck of the woods, fella. This place is known for crime, and that includes murder. When falling asleep, do you ever feel like you stopped breathing? Well, I have seriously severe sleep apnea, so... but the diagnosis came as a surprise to me, because I never DID think this. But sure enough, did a sleep study, and in just one hour's time, I stopped breathing like what, 30 times? What's the last thing that scared the hell out of you? Stupid drivers. Do you have any life-changing plans within the next 6 months? I guess getting a job could be pretty life-changing. As of right now, how do you feel about your future? I'm very, very scared. Who is the last person you ran into unexpectedly? Hm, I dunno. Where does your grandma live? Both of mine are dead, but my paternal grandmother lived in Michigan, while my maternal one technically lived in Florida, but stayed in New York with her son's family a whole lot. I don't really know where she stayed more. Do you know how to read music? Not anymore. Does the song you’re currently listening to remind you of anyone special? Not so much the song, but the band. Motionless In White is one of his all-time favorites, so I can't listen to them without thinking of Jason. Sucks because they've been becoming one of MY favorites, too, so I listen to them a lot. If the person who has hurt you the most, said they were in love with you, would you believe them? I'd tell him he was in a love with a person who no longer exists. It's impossible for him to be in love with me now when he doesn't know how much I've changed. If Facebook made you pay would you still use it? Ha, no. Have you ever been recorded on film without your permission? Not that I know of? Tell me about your last boyfriend? He's a wonderful person. He's been there for me without fail since we became friends in high school band, and he is SO fucking funny. He's always cared a lot about me, and I care a lot about him, just not in the same way he does me. He's like my big brother. Are your parents racist? My dad definitely is. What is your least favorite subject in school? Math and economics both sucked. Have you ever been involved in a custody battle before? Almost certain no. I'm pretty sure Dad didn't fight for custody at all, but it could've been something Mom just never told me. Have you ever babysat a newborn baby before? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I NEVER could. Do you have any siblings you neglect? .-. As a kid, did you ever go to camp? I went to Vacation Bible School, if that counts. Did your parents ever let you play in the pits of those multicolored balls? Yeah, until that big news story about a dirty needle pricking a child. Have any of your siblings ever had a crush on your significant other? Not to my knowledge. I highly doubt it. What do you usually order at Taco Bell, if you go there? Cheese quesadilla with fiesta potatoes. Rarely a pair of those cinnamon ball thingies. Ever consider a sex change? Nah. Do you eat whip cream straight out of the can? EW no. I hate the texture of whipped cream. What do you think of popcorn? Loooove. Have you ever dated any of your friends’ ex? No. Well, it's funny, Rachel (both Juan's and Jason's ex) and I are friends now, but definitely weren't at the time of us being together. Have you ever gone out with someone even though one of your friends liked that person first? If yes, did you feel bad? If no, were you tempted to? No. Would you rather be a rich musician, or a rich actor? Musician. What was the last charity you donated to? I don't recall. Did you like to collect frogspawn as a kid? I've told the "my friends and I saved hundreds of tadpoles" story enough times, so for this question, I'll just talk about when I would go fishing with Dad as a kid. Back then, if I got bored of actually fishing, I would walk along the riverbank and try to catch tadpoles and minnows in my hands. It was soooo fun to Kid Brittany. Do you walk fast or slow? I walk pretty damn slow. Can you juggle with more than two items? I can't juggle, period. Do you like jalapenos? Yeah! Do you like kiwis? Yessss, I love kiwi! Does anyone in your family go deer or bird hunting? Who is it anyway? I don't know if she still does, but my little sister used to go deer hunting with a friend.

Are you saving up for anything right now? What? Yeah, my pet snake's 40 gallon terrarium. What sort of things do you have bookmarked in your internet browser? It's quite diverse, but I think I mostly have templates for specific character profiles. Have you ever snuck in to a theater/dance/bar etc? No, I'm a good noodle. If given the chance, would you go to Ireland? Certainly! It's beautiful there. If you have a cat, does it ever “converse” with you? Oh, ABSOLUTELY. When I talk to him, he sure does try to answer me and it's the cutest thing, ha ha. Have you ever tried those electric toothbrushes? Yeah, that’s what I use. Has anyone told you that they wanted to marry you/were planning on it/etc? Yeah, guess he changed his mind. Name one of your ex’s mother’s names? Virginia. Does your favorite song have a meaning? BIG TIME. Have you ever written or received a suicide note? I've written one. .-. What is the worst thing a child has ever done to you while you were babysitting? When I was changing her diaper, she got up and ran around naked in the house. ;-; Do you own a nightgown? No. If you could get any pet right now, what would you get? i. want. my. tarantula. Have you ever actually been stuffed into a locker? No. That is just such a TV trope that I've never even heard of happening irl. Do you/did you decorate the inside of your locker at school with stuff? I only had a locker in middle school, and I believe I didn't. I didn't want one in HS. What’s the coolest thing you’ve made with Legos? I was never a Legos kid; I played with Lincoln Logs. Do you want to get pregnant right now? Fuck no, man. Or ever. Have you ever housed a friend for a long period of time because they had no place to live? No. If you have a favorite comedian, have they ever been in a movie? I don't have one, really. Are there any books you want to read? Besides the series I'm reading, I want to read The Testaments by Margaret Atwood, but idk if I'll ever get to it, really. If you have younger siblings, are you very protective of them? We don't have a close relationship, but I am nevertheless. If you have older siblings, are they very protective of you? Not really, it seems. First letter of the names of everyone you have kissed? J, T, D, S. Do you like going to school sports games? No, I hated it. When Ash was a cheerleader, Mom made me go, and I was never happy about it. Have you ever worn your boyfriend’s clothes? An ex-boyfriend's, yeah. Did you get into your mom’s makeup when you were a kid? I don't think I did? Do you want anything pierced? Ugh, a lot of places. The last time you washed your hair, did you use conditioner? I never do. Has your partner ever accused you of cheating when you actually didn’t? I've never been accused of cheating. Has anyone ever called you stuck-up? No. I'm quite the opposite. Have you been diagnosed with any mental disorders? Too many, really. What are you doing this summer? Nada. Do you still watch MTV? I never did. Have you ever spent the night with the last person you kissed? Yes. What’s the dress code for your job? Do you like it? I'm unemployed. Does your job allow piercings or tattoos? ^, and this might sound stupid, but I wouldn't work at a job that didn't. Especially tattoos. No job is stopping me from doing things that improve my self-esteem and body image, particularly when I LOATHE my body. If a little bit of art makes me feel better about myself? Nobody is stopping me. What are some trends you dislike that everyone seems to love? "Crocs. Whyyyy?" <<<< THIS. First people hated them, now they love them??? They're hideous as shit. If you got married and then got divorced, would you want to re-marry? I don't really know. How often do you use lotion? Not NEARLY enough for someone with skin as dry as mine. Do you donate your old stuff to Goodwill? If so, what was the last thing you donated? Yeah. Mom recently brought some old toys, I think? How weight conscious are you? You have no fucking idea. Rent a movie or go see one in theaters? I prefer going to a theater. I enjoy the experience. What’s the biggest personality trait turn-off for a potential partner? Probably being an explosive/volatile person. I can't with that. Would you ever go on a birth control pill? I already am to regulate my period and tame the cramps. And if I was sexually active, I absolutely would want to be on it. What's your favorite late night tv show? I don’t have one. At high school do or did you participate in Spirit Week? No. Do you have a favorite vocalist? Who? Queen's Freddie Mercury will probably always top the list. If you have a favorite photographer, can you describe their work? I don't have a favorite photographer. Surprisingly. Are sex and sexual activities something you enjoy? If it's with someone I'm in love with and am in the mood, sure. What is one aspect of your life that did not turn out as you expected? I did NOT expect to reach 25 like... *gestures at self* this. What is one thing stopping you from becoming a veterinarian? I could never handle euthanizing pets and watching the families' hearts break. How long have you lived in the house you live in? Not even a year. Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder? I'm definitely sadder. Especially today. Do you like Subway? I do. Have you ever seen a volcano? No. Have you ever found a spider on your bed? Yes. It's the scariest shit when one skitters across your blanket, because like, you LEAST expect it to happen in the comfort of your own bed. Are you satisfied with the way your life is right now? Not even remotely, if I'm being honest. I'm at a real low. When was the last time you ate at Burger King? Years ago, when I was a vegetarian and went there for the veggie burger. How often do you cry? lol a lot Ever had a crush on a teacher? No. Can you wire a plug? ... I don't even know what you mean by "wire a plug," so obviously no lmfao. Where were you when you got your first period? Well I think I actually *started* at school, but I noticed when I got home. Can you drive? I mean I'm capable, but I'm an incredibly anxious, overly passive, and just generally terrified driver. I'm so scared of when I finally get new glasses and therefore a new permit... but I have to get used to driving. Living where I do, public transportation is very, very limited, and I just can't have people driving me places the rest of my life. Exercise or healthy eating? I sadly hate exercising SO much. I'd rather eat healthy. Did you play Red Rover when you were a child? Yeah. Are you more attracted to men or women? This can actually vary with time, which I originally thought was weird but is apparently normal for some bisexual individuals. There are spans where I feel more sexual attraction to men, and then other times women. Has anyone ever called you rich? God no, I am so far from it. What makes you feel beautiful? Nothing. Are you considered a very sensitive person? I'm way too sensitive for my own good. Have you ever told someone you never wanted to speak to them again? Yes, my dad. I regret that letter I sent him so, so much. I honestly don't know how he can treat me with so much love after the shit I said. If you could watch any TV series right now, what would it be? I am... astonishingly behind on Meerkat Manor: Rise of the Dynasty. I know, seriously incredible. I just don't watch TV, man. It's strange, I'm into the show, of course I am, I just... don't like sitting myself in front of a television and purely watching it. I'll catch up, though. Do you grind your teeth, and if so, why do you do it? No. But it's not like people have a reason they grind their teeth... they just do. Do you feel the need to rant about anything right now? If so, go for it. I could, but I'm not going to. It'll just upset me. Do you have a friend named Nick? What’s his favourite food? My sister's husband's name is Nick, but he is definitely not my friend. I can't stand his bigoted, sexist, misogynistic, homophobic, racist ass. I don't know or care what his favorite food is. What are you listening to? I'm re-watching Gab and Sinow play Resident Evil 5. People can say all they want about RE5, but I love it. Do you prefer waffles or pancakes? Waffles, but only if they're still soft enough to not be considered crunchy. I prefer them because I can put peanut butter on them, and the grooves catch the syrup instead of just absorbing it all like pancakes. Do you prefer non-diet or diet soda? I don't/can't drink diet sodas because the artificial sweetener gives me a KILLER headache. Are you craving anything right now? You guys have no idea how badly I want Taco Bell for whatever reason. Which word did you say first, mama or dada? The latter. What was your first pet’s name? So, there's three answers to this. I was born into the family while we had a collie named Trigger, but I have absolutely zero memory of her. She passed when I was too young. Our first family pet that I clearly remember was Chance, our rescued cat. My first *personal* pet was either a guinea pig named Squeak or Chinese water dragon named Shadow. I can't remember who came first. Who was your best friend in elementary? It changed with the years, but I can say the three biggies were Brianna, Kim, and Quiata. Who was your favorite teacher in high school? Probably Coach Collie. He was so wise, kind, funny... He was all-around just wonderful and taught so many life lessons. When you go to a restaurant, do you have a go-to dish? Always. What is the best part of your most ordinary day? Waking up and doing my first sweep of the Internet before I get bored outta my fucking senses. Do you read any web comics? No.

Do you drink bottled water? Yeah, but like any water, it has to be COLD. Not room temperature. Not a tad chilly. I mean cooooold. When did you last use a straw? Earlier. I have a metal straw I use to drink water with because I drink faster through a straw, and with it being water, of course I want to try to drink as much as I can when I actually choose to drink water. Have you ever tackled someone to the ground? No. Do you know anyone who lies to make themselves look more interesting? My former best friend did that. She was an online friend, so it made it easy. I finally caught on and called her out on it, and then she just totally dipped. Do you like to sing? Not that much, honestly. Like sometimes I feel like it, sure, but not frequently. Are your parents in good health? No, not really. Have you ever been a caregiver to a sick/disabled relative? No. I feel bad saying it, but I know I never could be. I could NOT clean another human being. It's one of the bajillion reasons I'm not having kids. Do you like to take naps during the day? "Like" isn't the right word. I just... need to. Most days, there is NO way I can make it 'til night without one. What movie was your favorite to see in the movie theater? Even though it was sincerely a sucky movie, I really enjoyed watching Silent Hill: Revelation because I saw the 3D version, plus the hype over my favorite franchise getting a new movie was just very exciting. Favorite Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle character? I was never into that. Ever watched The Blair Witch Project? Yes, and I positively adore it. I genuinely think it's a genius horror movie, never showing, but telling through other methods. Have a favorite AC/DC song? Probably "You Shook Me All Night Long." Are you good at selling candy for those fundraiser things? Omg nooooo I HATED doing that shit, especially when some amount of sales were like, required for whatever bullshit reason. I hate hate hate advertising to people. My parents always bought them instead. Have you ever had a crush on someone too old for you? No. Well, besides James Hetfield, ha ha. What's your favorite Dr. Suess quote? I don't know enough quotes to have one. If you were to have wings, what would you want them to look like? Dark and dragon-esque with lots of rips and tears in them... but not enough to stop me from flying, ha ha. Have you ever broken up with someone to find you want them back later? No. Has anyone ever dared you to eat a chili pepper? Did you do it? No. Have you ever tried Thai food? No. Have you ever watched Avatar? The TV show, not the movie. I've seen I think one season with Sara so far? I actually quite enjoy it. What's your cellphone's signature for text? WOW this survey is ancient. If you smoke marijuana, what is your preferred or typical method? I don't smoke it. Do you often take painkillers? I dunno about "often," but headaches to the point I take something aren't rare for me. Do you wish you were in a relationship? I mean yes, but I know it's for the better I'm not. Have you ever been to the ER? Many times. Do you ever feel guilty eating meat? I feel extremely guilty. I try not to think about it. Where have you lived for the most part of your life? Eastern NC. How old are you? 25. What are you listening to at the moment? Powerwolf came out with a new album, so I've been bingeing the shit out of some songs, ha ha. Right now it's "Blood For Blood." Do you watch WWE Raw? Ew, no. I have NEVER gotten the appeal of wrestling. Just like... why????? Do you dye your hair? Nowhere near regularly. :/ I haven't had it dyed in a very long time, and I hate it. I love colored hair. We just can't afford that expense on something so little. My hair does NOT take dye easily, so we have to have a professional do it, and that isn't exactly cheap. Have you ever lived in a different country that the one you’re living in? No. Which of your parents will you see next? I live with my mother, so. Have you fallen asleep in school? Not in class, no. In college when I would be in the library between classes, though, I've dozed before. Have you ever been hospitalized? Yes, but not for physical issues. Do you make fun of obese people? You're talking to someone who is. So obviously no, and you're a piece of fucking shit if you do. Do you have an innie or an outtie? Innie. Have you ever tried to headbang? No. Even as a metalhead, I don't get it, man. You're asking for a headache. Do you own any Converse? What do you think of them? I have a few and like them. Have you ever started a rumor? No. Have you ever been in a position of authority? I mean, I'm an admin on two sites, so I guess? Were your ancestors royalty? Yeah, I'm related to one of the Queen Victorias, I believe. I just know she had a thing for beheading people, ha ha. What do you like on your pasta/noodles? Sauce, butter, grated cheese, etc.? Just tomato sauce and meatballs, really. Who is the most ungrateful person you know? What makes them this way? My fucking ex-best friend. You could never, ever give her enough and she just... blegh. She was so fucking ungrateful for everything people did for her. It was just never enough. Do you like cherry Pepsi? I like cherry Coke. I don't like Pepsi. Have you ever held an uncommon pet before (ex: mouse, spider, snake, lizard)? I've held snakes, rats, lizards, and a tarantula. Who did you last play truth or dare with? No clue. Have you ever camped out somewhere for an event the next day? No. When were you the saddest in your life? 2016. Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you? No. If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? Yeah, they've moved out. What was the most unique pet you’ve owned? I'd probably say my champagne ball python. A lot of people don't even know ball python morphs exist, so seeing her might surprise some people. Do you like Doritos? Yeah. When you buy clothes, do you always try them on first? No, but I need to learn how to... I just HATE doing it. Have you used bugspray recently? No. Do you enjoy swimming in the ocean? Yesssss. Have you ever tried to sew or knit anything? No. Has something ever happened to you that seemed like it was from a movie? Most of Jason's and my relationship felt like one. Hence why the breakup felt so sudden and just impossible. Do you find yourself to be a believer in love at first sight? Not even remotely. Is there something you want to do, that you swear you will, no matter what? Spread Teddy's ashes in Yellowstone. I promised him. Are you longing for the day that you’ll be an adult? (If you’re not already) I am an adult, and it sucks. What’s something you’ve vowed to never eat? Any meat that was hunted. Have you ever owned a diary/journal with a lock and key? I don't believe so. When you were little, what movie did you watch over and over? Mostly Disney films, like The Lion King and Finding Nemo. Are you deathly allergic to anything? No. Do you know what you want for your dream house? Nope. I honestly don't really care about having a "dream" house to begin with. I just need one that's cozy to me and gets the job done. Have you ever seen the movie The Notebook? Many, many times. It's my favorite romance movie. Have you ever used the photo editing site “Picnik”? No, not to my memory. Has an animal ever taken a strong dislike to you? Our old dog Bentley didn't like me all that much, and I didn't like him, either. Have you ever attempted to cut your own hair? No. Do you have a lucky or special coin? No. Do you love ice cream cake more than normal cake? No. Do you check your email daily? No. Is there anyone you know who’s in any way paralyzed? No. For you, do you commonly feel more jealousy or envy? Envy. Do you rely on the heads/tails flipping of a coin sometimes for decisions? No. Has a laptop ever burned your legs? Yes, actually. For a while many years ago, my old laptop left subtle burn marks on my legs. Anyone’s birthday coming up soon? My nephew's is next month. Do you like Laffy Taffy? I doooo. Are your biceps at all noticeable? Ha, no. Have you ever seen a walrus? Maybe when I went to SeaWorld as a kid? Did you ever have one of those easy bake ovens as a kid? Yup. If given the opportunity, would you ride on a camel? Sure. What flavor cake do you like for your birthday? Red velvet. Have you ever had a job you loved? Nope. Have you ever been in a building that was on fire? Yikes, no. Have you ever written a poem for someone? Two people. Have you been best friends with someone of a different race? Yes. Who is the person you are closest to that you’ve met online? Sara. What was the name of the first porcelain doll you got? I was very afraid of dolls as a kid, so I obviously didn't have one. Do you sell any products? If so, what? I mean, I'm a wannabe photographer that sells my service. Owls or peacocks? Owls. Lions or horses? Lions. Can you still fit into kid’s clothes? Hell no. What devotional do you read, if any? None. What do you make wishes on? I only ever do for the tradition of it on my birthday. I don't believe in the magic of wishes, though. Have you ever made a recipe you found in a magazine? No. Are you bitter about anything? Probably always will be. Have you ever been in a love triangle? No. How bad are your hangovers? Never had one. Have you ever broken a bone? If so, what was the cause of it? Yes. It was identified as a fracture, but a break and a fracture are technically like the same thing, so. At a skating rink, I fell and landed on my hand so the top of it nearly touched my arm, so my wrist got FUCKED. I will never, ever forget the severity of the pins and needles feeling and just the experience in general. It hurt so goddamn bad. Is this the best year of your life? Fuck no.

[cromulentbookreview]

I See What You Did There

What’s two plus two?

Huh? What? What’s happening?

What’s two plus two?

Oh, shit, right, I have a book review blog, don’t I? I mean, things have been a bit hectic these past few months and I’m also trying to be a real writer...

What’s two plus two?

Yeah, you’re right, I shouldn’t neglect my tumblr, even if nobody reads it. And come on, computer, it’s not like I’ve been in a coma for four years, two plus two is clearly five and we all love Big Brother, OK? Gah.

Uhhh...And by that, I mean: Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir!

Dr. Ryland Grace wakes up in a spaceship with no memory of how or why he’s there. He’s a junior high school science teacher, what the hell is he doing on a spaceship? Also, the other two astronauts are dead. Like, really dead. So far as how things are going for Dr. Grace right now, I’ll let Pete Campbell give you a hint:

Slowly, veeeery slowly, Grace’s memory starts to come back to him: he’s on a mission to save the Earth. There’s this nasty space bacteria-thingy called Astrophage that’s dimming the light of Mr. Burns’s archnemesis: the Sun.

There’s a lot of science involved, but Weir explains, in great detail, just how Astrophage dims the Sun and why that’s really, really, really, really bad for the Earth. Like, apocalyptic-bad. Billions will die bad. Famine, disease, war, rocks fall, everyone dies and freezes to death bad. Only not right away. Over the course of several years. So everyone will die, but they’ll get to do it real slowly. 

Yay?

Like so, but it ends with everybody dead and the Earth being rendered uninhabitable. All of Grace’s wee little students will grow up watching their Earth slowly die. Unless Project Hail Mary finds a solution. And there seems to be a solution out there - Tau Ceti seems to be the only star not infected with Astrophage. Why? How? What? So this all powerful woman called Stratt, who has been given authority by just about everyone (how? Reasons. Don’t ask questions) yanks Grace out of his classroom - first to study Astrophage, and then, somehow, he can’t remember exactly, roped him into going on a dozen-light-year journey to Tau Ceti with the crew of the Hail Mary.

Only the rest of the crew is dead. Something went wrong while they were in a coma during their four-year space voyage. Grace is alone.

Inside the Hail Mary.

Full of a dude called Grace.

I see what you did there, Weir. Don’t think I didn’t see what you did there. I mean, you don’t even have to be Catholic to see what you did there.

Anyway, long-winded flashbacks and lots of science ensues. I struggled with the first quarter of the book - not for any particular reason other than I started reading this book in the latter half of 2020 and I was having a hell of a time concentrating on...well, everything. Remember 2020? Yeah, it wasn’t great. I mean, I’d need a lot of “not great, Bob!” gifs to describe just how bad those last few months of 2020 were.

And then I thought 2021 would be better. Ahahaha we barely made it six days. Seriously, everything is terrible and how do I even concentrate on a dumb book blog let alone a book all about science and the Earth slowly dying because the sun is dimming and -

Soon enough, however, Grace spots something on the Hail Mary’s radar. It’s...another spaceship? All the way out by Tau Ceti? At first, Grace thinks maybe its another ship from Earth, like a backup plan, that’d make sense, right? Only it’s not.

Who could it be?

Aliens?

Yeah, it’s aliens.

Our friend Grace gets to be the dude to make first contact with the sentient, spider-like creatures of the first planet in the system 40 Eridani. Turns out 40 Eridani is also infected with Astrophage, which is causing all sorts of problems for the Eridians, and their ship just happened to be around Tau Ceti at the exact same time as the Hail Mary. Crazy, right? Anyway, after the initial first contact and the long, drawn-out process of learning to communicate with one another (with no help from Amy Adams or Jeremy Renner), Grace and the lone Eridian, whom Grace christens Rocky, team up to save their respective worlds.

Science and plenty of flashbacks ensue.

I’m not a scientist - well, I have a master’s degree in library and information science, which, I guess, is a science? I mean, uh...I could tell you where all the sciency books are in the library. 500s if you’re using Dewey, and if you’re using Library of Congress, it will depend on what you’re looking for - you’ll want to start with Q for general sciences, QA for math books, QB and QC for astronomy and physics, QE, GC, GB, QC, TN for earth sciences, QD, TN, TP, and TR for chemical sciences, GE and bits of GF, QE, QH, QC, and TD for environmental sciences, QH, QK, QL, QM, QP, and QR for life sciences, QA75-76.9, TK5101-TK6720, TK7800-TK7895, and Q334-Q390 for computer sciences, telecommunication and artificial intelligence, Q, R, S, and T for the history of sciences and if you’re looking for bibliographies and finding aids for topics in the sciences, look under Z.

You know. Science.

OK, so I may not be a scientist. I may be bad at math because numbers somehow magically switch themselves around on paper whenever I look at them. Why? Because my brain sucks, that’s why. I may have spent most of my chemistry classes reading YA books under my desk (worth it!). I may have only passed high school physics by cheating off a girl younger than I was, but hey, the joke was on me: my high school physics teacher wasn’t even qualified to teach physics.

Gotta love rural public schools.

My point is, while the science may be lost on me and my brain which is full mostly of Simpsons quotes rather than actual knowledge, I do loves me a fun story where Science (with a capital S) saves the day. And, make no mistake, this book is fun. You might get a bit bogged down by the science, but once you get past it, this is a highly enjoyable story of one dangerously unqualified guy desperately trying to save the world with his new BFF, alien spider guy who speaks in musical notes. It’s up to them and them alone. Good luck, guys! Don’t forget that billions upon billions of lives depend on you. No pressure.

Seriously, if you loved The Martian, you’ll love Project Hail Mary. They’re similar, but Hail Mary is on a much larger scale than The Martian - there’s a lot more at stake in the hands of one guy. Plus: aliens!

Without spoiling anything, I’ll just say I would have loved more from the ending. I would’ve loved an epilogue from some of the other character’s perspectives or something. I mean, I could even go with a sequel! Maybe something where Erid and Earth are finally able to communicate? There’s a lot of potential for short stories or novellas set in the same world as Project Hail Mary - there’s got to be bonus material there and I want it. More, please? That’d be nice. I’d definitely read it. So... Hop to it, Weir!

One last complaint: Grace doesn’t swear. Like, at all. Meanwhile, Mark Watney is over here like

Come on, Grace, would it kill you to say “fuck” or “shit” every now and again? I mean, I sipped coffee that was too hot and let out a bunch of words that’d make a 19th century whaler blush. Geez.

RECOMMENDED FOR: Fans of The Martian, science-y people, people who enjoy a heavy dose of science in their sci-fi, people who just want a fun story

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR: People with no mind for science, people who are against fun, anyone who doesn’t like sci-fi, aliens, fun, etc.

RATING: 4/5

ALIEN RATING:

RELEASE DATE: May 4, 2021 (HEY! Don’t think I didn’t see what you did there, too, Ballantine Books!)

ANTICIPATION LEVEL FOR SPINOFFS / SEQUELS / BONUS MATERIAL OF ANY KIND: Olympus Mons.

DID I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE?

[ghosttotheparty]

cotton candy skies always look better in person

5. also on AO3 chapter four

When Jens wakes up, his head is hurting.

It’s pounding like his brain is pressing against the inside of his skull, every nerve in his head throbbing.

“Fuck.”

He pushes himself up, the carpet he’s on rough under his hands, so he’s sitting. His eyes are squeezed shut, anticipating the light in the room to be bright, and he opens them slowly. The room isn’t as bright he expected, the curtains drawn over the windows, and he opens them more, squinting across the room to see a four-poster bed. He gestures at the bed with an open hand and sighs, drawing his hands into fists as he brings them to his shoulders and pushes his chest out. His back cracks quietly and he groans.

He closes his eyes again, resting his forehead on his forearms as they lay across his knees. After a second, he lifts his head and looks to the ground blearily, seeing his phone. He checks the time, 10:38, and lowers the brightness before opening it.

It opens to his call app. Which tells him that his last call was to Lucas.

And lasted seven hours and twenty-seven minutes.

“Shit.”

He barely remembers it. All he has is a vague memory of Lucas’s laughter in his ear, which, had he not seen his call history, he would have passed off as a dream.

He remembers only pieces of last night. The colour of the plastic cups and flashing lights, the sound of the music. He knows whose house he’s at. (But not what room. He’ll figure that out.) He knows he’s probably not the only person who accidentally slept over.

But he doesn’t know what he said to Lucas last night.

Jesus, what if he said something really awful? What if he just fully confessed to thinking Lucas is the prettiest boy Jens has ever laid eyes on?

He opens their texts, the last of which being just Jens asking if he could call Lucas, no hint of what he could possibly have said in the call. But he supposes he has to find out eventually. So he sends him a text message.

Good morning

When Lucas doesn’t respond right away (Jens isn’t expecting him to), Jens stands, pushing himself up off the floor, until he’s leaning against the closest wall, his eyes closed, a hand pressed to his head as it pulses with pain.

A minute later, Jens is in the hallway, looking down both ways to see a mess of cups, bottles, streamers, and paper plates. He steps over a small pile of clothes outside a dorr as he staggers slowly down the hall, a hand against the wall so he doesn’t lose his balance. After passing more messes and going down the stairs he finds himself in the living room. The couches and floor are littered with bodies, blankets tossed haphazardly over girls whose hair is covering their faces and boys whose mouths hang open as they snore. He passes through as quietly as he can, stepping around bottles and cans until he’s in the kitchen. He squints as he steps in, sunlight reflecting off of the white tile floor and counters.

“Hey.”

He winces at Marcus’s voice, opening an eye to see him and two other guys. Marcus is at the stove, and the others are sitting at the counter, looking over at Jens, who groans in response. They all laugh, and Jens shuts the door behind himself, stepping up to the counter.

“Someone got fucked up last night,” one of them says. Jens doesn’t recognise his voice and can’t be bothered to look and see if he knows his face. Jens brings a finger to his lips, shushing him, and they laugh again.

“Bacon?” Marcus asks, pushing a plate across the counter in his direction, and Jens reaches out, wiggling his fingers before selecting a piece and uttering a quiet “Thanks.”

Jens’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out to see that Lucas responded. He feels his cheeks heat up as he opens it.

Good morning! How’s the hangover?

Jens groans internally (how drunk was he when they called?), and sticks the rest of his bacon in his mouth as he responds.

I feel like the inside of my head exploded but the outside didn’t.

He looks up as Lucas types, his eyes getting used to the light. The guys have started talking, and as Jens looks at them, he realises one of them was in his maths class last year. He looks back down at his phone, not following the conversation.

:( poor baby Make sure you drink lots of water and all that

Jens suppresses a smile.

Will do

“Do you need help cleaning up?” he asks Marcus when there’s a break in the conversation.

“No, don’t worry about it. My mom’s not coming home for a few days.” He flips a piece of bacon in the pan. “I’ll make these guys take care of it.” He nods to the boys at the counter.

“Fuck you.”

“I’m gonna leave.”

Jens laughs as he grabs another piece of bacon.

“I think I’m gonna go, my mom’s probably wondering where I am,” he says, taking a bite. “You’re sure you don’t need help?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Marcus repeats.

---

Marcus lives close enough to Jens’s that he decides to walk. He pauses after shutting the door behind himself and stretches his back before making his way down the sidewalk. He pulls the hood of his sweatshirt up and pulls on his jacket, which he had grabbed from a closet at Marcus’s before leaving. He doesn’t have any new messages from Lucas. (He ignores the several “Where are you?” messages from the Broerrrs from last night. He’ll respond when he has a reason that isn’t “I suddenly felt the need to talk to a pretty photographer.”) Feeling brave, he sends a text to Lucas.

Is it okay if I call you?

Within seconds, there’s a response.

Yes, of course

So he does.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

He grins at Lucas’s voice. It’s deep and gravelly like he just woke up.

“What’s up?” Jens asks, not knowing what to say, not knowing why he wanted to call him.

“Dude, my back and shoulders hurt so much.”

“Why?” Jens stops on the sidewalk, stepping into an alley and leaning against the wall, a hand at the small of his back as he leans his head back.

“Because I fell asleep on the floor?” Lucas says it like Jens should already know.

“You too?”

Lucas scoffs.

“You really don’t remember anything from last night, do you?

Oh no.

“No? What were we both doing on the floor?”

“Well-” It sounds like Lucas is sitting up. “You were on the floor when you called and I joined you because you said it was comfortable.”

Jens presses a hand to his face, sighing.

“Of course.”

He hears Lucas laugh.

“How wasted were you last night?” he asks, still laughing.

“More wasted than I said I was,” Jens responds, chuckling.

“You remember what you said?”

“No, not at all. I just know I’m stupid when I’m drunk so I probably said some bullshit. And I’m sorry for anything else I said.”

Jens is still nervous about what he said to Lucas. He feels hot, even though it’s chilly outside.

“Yeah, you said you were tipsy, which is obviously an understatement.” Jens shakes his head at himself as Lucas continues. “And you didn’t really say much else, you fell asleep.

“Why does it say we called for like seven hours?”

“Well, I fell asleep after that without hanging up.”

“Ah.” Jens doesn’t believe that that’s all he said. “So I didn’t say anything else weird? I can’t be held responsible for what I say when I’m drunk.”

“Actually, you know what, there was one thing-” Lucas cuts himself off, laughing gently, the sound of it muffled like he’s covering his mouth with his hand.

“Oh no, what did I do?” He can feel his heart beating faster.

“Okay, you may have used a pick-up line on me that I am never going to forget, and never going to let you forget, I’m going to remind of this every day until we’re eighty.”

“Fuck.” Jens covers his face with a hand and steps away from the wall, rolling his eyes at himself. Of course it was a pick-up line. “What did I say?”

“So—” Lucas giggles. “You asked if I believe in God and when I asked why, you said— you said that if he’s real, God was having a good day when he made me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Jens throws his head back and lets out a groan. “That’s— I’m so sorry.” He can hear Lucas laughing.

“It was so cute, you were like, falling asleep as you said it, it was great.”

“You’re never going to let me forget about it.”

“Nope.”

---

“Hey-o.”

Jens grins and turns his head to see Lucas bouncing up next to his as Lena disappears from his view.

“Hey.”

Lucas’s hands are clasped in from of him, his fingers twisting his ring, and he’s smiling brightly, quirking his eyebrows at him. They stare at each other from a few seconds (or a few minutes; Jens seems to lose track of time when he looks at Lucas… or just thinks about him), before Lucas breaks the silence.

“How are you?” He tilts his head at Jens innocently.

“Mm-hmm.” It’s like he’s lost all control over his articulation, over his thoughts. He looks into Lucas’s eyes, that seem to be practically glowing in the golden light of the sun, looks at his freckles against his skin, at his little smile that grows at Jens continues to look at it.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Lucas says, and Jens’s eyes snap back to his.

“Uhm…” Jens sighs, looking away and adjusting his grip on his bag. “I’m tired. Could use a nap.”

“Hm.” Lucas presses his lips together in a sympathetic half-smile. “We can go sit on a dumpster if you’d like.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Lucas grins and raises his eyebrows at him like they’re going off on some adventure and not ten feet down the sidewalk. He walks ahead of Jens and Jens follows the pattern of his shirt, a muted colour-block sweatshirt, as they walk. Lucas looks like he walked right off the set of an eighties movie. Jens loves it, smiling to himself softly.

“Well, we have a problem,” Jens says, turning into the alley, and Jens sees it immediately. The dumpster is filled past the brim with plastic bags, the lid hanging open.

“That’s weird,” Jens says, stepping next to Lucas as they both stare at it.

“Truly.”

“What now?”

“Uhm,” Lucas says, hesitating, and then shrugs. “We can sit on the ground.”

A second passes before Jens responds, “Yeah, why not?”

He tosses his bag to the ground and site, pressing his back to the wall, and Lucas joins him, sitting with his back against the side of the dumpster, facing Jens and the empty street. Jens’s breath catches nervously when Lucas sits, as he’s sat close to the bin, thinking Lucas would sit at his side. Instead, Lucas back against the bin, lifting his legs and setting them over Jens’s, which are extended in front of him. The backs of Lucas’s thighs press lightly against the tops of Jens’s, and Jens lifts his hand awkwardly, not knowing what to do with it.

He settles for setting one hand on Lucas’s shin and the other gently on his knee, his fingers brushing back and forth over the worn denim of his jeans. Lucas sighs, leaning his head back and looking at him, his own hands folded in front of him.

“Do you know any good cafes around here?” Lucas asks, looking at Jens with softly smiling eyes.

“Uhm…” Jens sighs, laying his head on the wall behind him and looking away. This feels easy, sitting here, touching Lucas. Comfortable. “Depends on what you’re looking for.” He looks back at Lucas.

“Cake.”

“Cake…” Jens looks away again, puckering his lips and looking at the sky as he thinks. “Yeah, I can think of one. I haven’t had their cakes, but I’ve seen them in the window. They look lovely.”

“You’ll have to take me some time.” There’s a smile in his voice.

“Mm,” Jens hums in agreement, absentmindedly scratching his nails over Lucas’s knee. Lucas closes his eyes briefly, looking peaceful.

“Oh!” Lucas exclaims, and reaches into his pocket, moving his hips slightly, pulling his phone out. “I didn’t bring my camera today, so…” He swipes after the screen opens and points it at Jens.

Jens lifts his hands to his face, pressing his palms to his cheeks, and pouts, facing the camera. Lucas smiles, clicking.

Jens drops his hands back to Lucas’s leg and Lucas leans toward him, moving the camera so it’s pointing at his hand on Lucas’s knee. Jens looks at Lucas’s face as he takes a picture, his brows drawn in focus, his lower lip caught between his teeth, and Jens smiles. A breeze passes through the alley and Jens catches a whiff of Lucas’s smell, the smell that is distinctly him, as Lucas’s hair falls in his face.

Lucas straightens up, jerking his head to the side slightly to toss his hair out of his face, and looks at Jens, who smiles and looks away, tilting his head back to look at the sky. It’s almost cloudless.

He hears a quiet click and a soft chuckle and looks at Lucas, who is looking at his phone.

“Yeah,” Lucas says as he gazes at the screen that lights up his face.

“Yeah, what?”

“God was having a good day when he made you.” Lucas grins as Jens groans and puts his phone away, giggling as Jens rolls his eyes and looks away, trying not to smile as his face burns.

“I can’t believe I said that,” he says quietly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lucas says, reaching out and patting Jens’s hand. “It was cute.” He hesitates a second and leaves his hand on top of Jens’s, softly running his fingertips over Jens’s knuckles, leaving sparks in their trail.

Jens takes a shaky breath as he smiles, looking at their hands. He spreads his fingers and Lucas copies him, their fingers entwining. Jens’s curl, trapping Lucas’s, and Lucas runs his thumb across the back of Jens’s hand gently. Jens glances at Lucas to see that he’s smiling at their hands. He looks sleepy, and Jens smiles again. He untwists their fingers, turning his hand around so he’s holding Lucas’s fingers, analysing his nails. They’re a soft blue, matching shards of Lucas’s eyes.

“Pretty,” Jens says, feeling Lucas watching him.

“You think so?”

“Mm-hmm.” He looks at Lucas, letting their fingers tangle easily.

“I don’t even know what my friends would say about it.”

“Utrecht friends?”

Lucas hums in affirmation.

“You didn’t paint your nails in Utrecht?” Jens watches as Lucas shakes his head. “Why not?”

Lucas sighs, leaning his head back.

“I was different in Utrecht.”

“Is that good?”

Lucas smiles, lightly nodding. “They knew old Lucas. Straight, short-hair, skater Lucas.”

“What Lucas do I know?”

Lucas holds eye contact with his, twisting his mouth as he thinks.

“Lucas Lucas,” he says.

Jens smiles, nodding.

“What changed?” he asks curiously. “Why weren’t you Lucas Lucas in Utrecht?”

“Uhm…” Lucas looks up at the sky. “I lived there my whole life. You know, same friends, same classmates, same neighbours. So I acted like them.” He looks at Jens. “I learned to skate because of my friends. Made out with girls at parties. Stuff like that.” He pauses and Jens nods. “I mean of course I love my friends. And it’s not like I was lying to them, you know? I just wasn’t… showing the whole truth?”

“Yeah.”

They speak quietly, listening to passing cars and people talking across the street, the sound and meaning of their words lost in the distance.

“And then I move to a new city. Where no one knows me. I don’t have to worry about people recognising me, or wondering or asking why I’m… acting weird.”

Jens tightens his grip on Lucas’s hand as he continues.

“I don’t have to pretend anything. I get to be whatever, or whoever, I want.” He shrugs. “So I choose to be me.”

Jens smiles and nods lightly.

“I like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Jens brings Lucas’s hand to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Lucas smiles.

“For the record,” Jens says after a quiet second, running his fingertips over Lucas’s hand and wrist, “I like Lucas Lucas best.”

“You’ve never met old Lucas, though.”

Jens watches his mouth as he says it, holding back from leaning across Lucas’s legs and kissing him right now.

“I don’t want to,” he says softly.

[justjessame]

Put Me In Coach 7

After saying good night to my parents, who were surprisingly quiet and accepting about me wanting to ‘spend some time with Mr. Negan alone’ (I gag at the very nonsense of calling him that, but I’d kill to say ‘sir’ see his fists clench and my mom take note.), we got into his car and headed over. I had wanted to take my OWN car, but something in the way he’d looked at me told me that there was a motive behind the madness.

I had just buckled myself in, Negan beside me when I had to ask. “Why one car?” I watched him keep his focus straight ahead. Fuck. “Negan, why only one car?”

He sighed. “Your mother wanted to make sure that I would bring you home tonight.” He answered, side eyeing me. “Two cars meant, in her mind, that you’d fake out and call in a sleepover with Eric,” I saw his eyebrow raise at the theory that even a sleepover with Eric was better than one with him, “or Mary.”

Shit. It had been on my mind. Pack a bag, rush downstairs, tell Mom and Dad that after Negan’s I’d just hop over to Mary’s since it was further away and stay there. I even had the perfect reasoning for it. Mary lived closer to Negan’s. Damn that woman and her ability to close loopholes. That must have been why, when I’d moved to grab a bag, Negan had stopped me. Damn fuck shit.

“Ugh.” I groaned. And then I pouted. I wanted a FULL night with him. What’s the point of them knowing, if I was still being treated like a child. “I’m an adult, Negan, this is stupid.”

“You’re an adult, but you’re still their little girl, Amara.” He reached over to take my hand as he drove us to his place. “There’s a silver lining.” I glanced over at him and saw him shooting me a look with a grin. “This stipulation is ONLY until you walk across the stage and get your diploma.” I felt a smile tug at my lips. “If you hadn’t zoned out during dinner, you might have already known all that.” He rolled his eyes and I snorted.

“I’ve lived through more dinners with my parents than you’ll ever have to worry about, Negan.” I linked our fingers. “Trust me, you’ll zone out soon enough around them at dinnertime.” I smiled and brought his hand to my mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Besides, I was doing math. That should count for something.”

He laughed and I caught his eye again. “You were thinking dirty thoughts, princess.” I nodded and bit my lip. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

“Me fucking either.”

 Negan barely got the door closed before I was wrapped in his arms. “Now we’re in MY house, princess.” That clench of lust in my stomach hit and his mouth was on mine. Kissing Negan was almost enough to get me over the first hurdle of pleasure, ALMOST. “I think I made a promise in your room,” his breath fanned my lips. Another tightening. “Come here.” And then he was pulling me through his apartment to the bedroom.

He flicked the light switch and adjusted the light to the dimness he wanted. When his eyes met mine again, I was suddenly incredibly appreciative of the fact that we had the privacy his place afforded us. My room would have been a terrible idea, because when his fingertips met my skin, I couldn’t hold back any of the sounds that fought for freedom out of my mouth. And, when we finally came together, naked and on his completely decadent bed, over and over, I realized that I’d be counting down the days to graduation with more fervor than I’d ever considered before.

 The countdown began in earnest. Eric and Mary eyeballing me as Prom drew near. Like I was going to try that shit again.

“No.” I bit out, turning up my nose at Eric’s offer of a handful of his disgusting pickle flavored chips. “Does everything you put in your fucking mouth have to have phallic connotations?” He was grinning at me as he tossed one in his open mouth and made an indecent moan. “Ugh. Gross.”

“Was the ‘no’ for the chips, or because I asked if you wanted us to save you a seat in our limo?” Mary grinned, knowing my head was going to explode if I had to be asked this stupid fucking question one more time.

“Both.” I snapped, taking a drink of juice. “You both know that I’ve had my fucking fill of dances at this fucking hellhole.” They snickered. “And NO I don’t care that Prom,” I rolled my eyes and practically spit out the word, “is happening at the country club. I don’t go to THAT hellhole when Mom and Dad beg, why would I willingly go for this?”

“Didn’t Coach ask you?” Eric asked, putting on a pout. I glared at him. “Ah, come on, Amara, it’s NOT like you’re an ADULT or something.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t fucking see what the big fucking deal is. Your parents know, they condone it,” I snorted. “OK, so they won’t let you have raunchy sleepovers with Coach Big Dick, but they aren’t having his ass arrested for ‘grooming you’.” I bit my lip wishing I hadn’t told his sorry ass about that. “Why can’t you fucking come?”

“I don’t think her ‘fucking cumming’ is an issue,” Mary offered with her own evil grin. “I mean, have you seen her AFTER she ‘updates his grade book’?” Shit, they were gonna kill me. “I kind of want to find a grade book of my own to update.” Dear fucking God. I laughed in spite of myself. “I’m not sure Coach wants to spend another night at ANOTHER school dance. He looked like murdering the entire group of kids was on his mind, when it wasn’t laser focused on killing Joe.”

I sighed at the memory of that night and the two weeks that led up to it. “How is Joe?” I asked, shooting Mary a look.

“Big and pea brained.” She offered with a shrug. “He was a ‘fun’ distraction.” Mary offered me a loaded look. “Not repeatable.” Yeah, that was Joe.

“Didn’t think you’d take him to the Prom.” I offered, and she grinned. “Steven is still on Eric’s menu, I see.”

“Hush, whore,” he grinned at me, licking his fingers of the salty dill flavor that I could smell from my seat. Blah. “Steven and I are fated.” I raised an eyebrow. “What? I can do monogamy.”

“You can do a lot of fucking things, Eric, but why settle down so quick?” I asked, and realized that they both shot me a look. Pot meet kettle. Shit. “What I’m doing with-”

Eric was watching me with amusement. “Yeah, what you’re doing with dot dot dot,” he grinned, “is planning for the future. I’m not fucking saying Steven and I are necessarily end game, but he’s Mr. Right For Now.” He winked at me and I shook my head. “Did you ever read the note?” He glanced down to pick up his soda, looking uncomfortable.

“Yeah.” I breathed. I had read Negan’s note that had come with my jewelry and it had made it much easier to face Mom. Even if I had wanted to eventually, having read what he’d written had made it simple. When she jumped to the assumption that he was some creep who molded me into his perfect sex kitten, I knew that wasn’t nearly what Negan and I had. Not a tiny shred of what we were to one another had to do with him making me into what he wanted. Because in that letter he’d told me that I was already everything he could wish for. That I was IT. That he was done for with me.

“Can’t give you shit for that, not after knowing that he thinks all that about you.” Eric smiled, and took my hand. “Jealous as shit that you get to be on the receiving end of-”

“His hand, his mouth, his fucking cock.” Mary nearly moaned, lightening the mood. “Yeah, we KNOW, Eric.” She grinned and took my other hand. “We’re both green with envy, you bitch.”

 Prom came and went. Negan and I went to the drive-in and got pizza on the way back to his place. We managed to eat, and we also managed to take full advantage of an entire evening without interruption. Because, even when we managed to find time, my best friends and parents managed to interrupt. Texts, calls, I was almost amazed that none of them had followed me to his place and knocked on the door. Eric and Mary wanted to double check dates for different finals. Pretty sure Mom just wanted to cock block both of us. In the end, Prom marked an end to Mary and Eric’s need for reminders. We were done. Classes over. We had our caps and gowns. We’d taken our class picture for the yearbook. Now, we only had graduation to get through.

I should have been focused on walking across the stage to get my diploma and get the accolades for my accomplishments, but mostly I was focused on the night that would follow. Negan and me, together for the entire night. We’d never slept in the same bed. Napping after sex didn’t count, not really. And showering, a hot flash of heat ran straight through me at the thought of Negan wet and naked. Fuck.

“Princess?” His voice drew me back to the pizza dinner in front of me. “Sweetheart, you just made that noise again.” Deep, raw, and needy. That's how his voice sounded. I bit my lip and his eyes were drawn to the movement. “What made you make that noise?” He went back to studying my full face.

“Pizza?” I offered, hoping for a second to calm now the almost overwhelming heat that was still burning through me.

He shook his head, fuck he looked like a hunter. “Don’t think so.” I waited. “You haven’t taken a bite of your slice, Amara.” Oh, fuck. “What idea just ran through that overactive brain of yours, honey?”

Damn it, I felt like I’d been running a fucking marathon I was so fucking thirsty. “Graduation night.” His eyes flashed and I saw his hand fist his napkin. “And-” I stopped and took a breath to still the raging horniness that was risking to take over my entire body and force me to crawl across the fucking table to tackle him. “I was thinking about the stuff we haven’t done. As a couple.”

Negan tilted his head and waited. Fuck. Teacher mode, twelve o’clock.

“We’ve never actually slept in the same bed.” I offered, and he squinted, knowing that passing out wouldn’t have me making THAT noise. “And,” I licked my lip at the mere thought of his body dripping with water. “Showering.”

That’s all it took. I thanked God he’d put the pizza box on that bar of his, because the paper plates that held my slice and what had been left of his were swept onto the floor, unopened cans of soda, gone. And then I was on the fucking table and he was devouring me.

[anistarrose]

Fateful Detours - Ch. 3 (Gravity Falls x Infinity Train)

Summary: Memories are relived, conversations are had, and two journeys come to an end.

Warnings: flashbacks to Filbrick being an abusive father, non-graphic descriptions of pain/injury

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20331070/chapters/48205837

(The Beginning) (The Middle)

Here we are at the final chapter! This has been a very fun crossover to write, and this chapter is easily my favorite in the whole fic.

(Do note that the content warnings have gotten a little heavier for this chapter, but it’s no darker than the Gravity Falls canon.)

***

Stan wasn’t sure what to expect when he looked at the TV. The Cat had said it contained everything that made Ford Ford, so some part of his mind couldn’t help but imagine a swirling vortex of sketch-filled journals and science textbooks, of broken inventions and bitter parting words.

But instead, he found himself standing in a plain white hallway, staticked-out silhouettes flickering on every wall. Some were abstract, like random interference, but others felt more familiar, like compasses or bags of snack food. Or like a ship’s mast with two makeshift flags hung from it.

Stan checked his hand, and saw that his number was still there.

81

“Ford?” he called out. “Are you in here?”

Not only was there no response, but the sound of the static grew a little louder, as if trying to drown out his voice.

“Couldn’t be that easy, huh,” he muttered as he set off down the hallway. “I’ll just have to find him myself, then.”

At the end of the room was a wall of pure static, crackling and roaring incomprehensibly. But for a moment, Stan could swear he heard familiar voices conversing on the other side, and as they faded out, he put his ear up to the wall to listen more closely —

His hand ever so slightly brushed the surface, and it immediately collapsed under the pressure, its strange gravity dragging him through the ripples of static and into a bright, colorful scene. Stan’s head spun, and it took him a moment to get his bearings — but there Ford was, he realized, just down the stairs and in front of him with his back turned. Safe and sound, and rubbing his chin like he was conscious and alert.

Just as Stan was about to speak up, two hushed voices beat him to the punch. They came from a pair of familiar figures just a few feet in front of Ford…

It was Stan and Ford themselves, aged eleven, standing in front of their middle school lockers.

“C’mon, Sixer! No one will notice, I guarantee it!”

“But if we do get caught, they’ll give us failing grades for sure! It’s a big risk to take…”

Young Stan made pleading eyes. “Please? I’m going to fail math anyway if we don’t try something…”

“Alright,” young Ford agreed reluctantly, taking his glasses off and handing them over to Stanley. “I’ll take your math test.”

Stan suppressed a chuckle as he watched the younger version of his brother squint awkwardly as he adjusted to the lack of glasses, but the real Ford just shook his head with a sigh.

“Selfish as always,” he muttered, and the scene changed.

Stan and Ford, aged fifteen, stood outside the local movie theater. Both of them were sorting through their pockets for change, and neither was coming up with much of anything.

“I’ve only got enough for one ticket.”

“Same here.”

“And you want to waste it on some raunchy comedy we’d have to lie about our ages to even get into?”

“If the only other option is some over-the-top sci-fi flick, then yeah! I do!”

“Stan, I have been waiting the better part of three years for this movie! I’ve been theorizing about the plot for three years, and if you think I’m not going to see it opening night —”

Stan threw an arm over Ford’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be packed opening night, Ford. You really want to see the first screening, where all the other rabid fans are there and talking so loud that you can hardly hear the actors?”

Ford frowned. “I don’t know…”

“And what did we end up doing?” the real Ford asked, shaking his head. “Seeing his choice of movie! Because he only ever cared about himself, and I just went along with it!”

As Ford waved his hands in the air, Stan caught a glimpse of his number shooting up:

225

257

288

340

…

“I went along with it,” Ford repeated, “until…”

Their surroundings wavered, sidewalk morphing into carpet as street lights flickered and turned into familiar lamps from the Pines family household.

“No.” Ford shook his head. “Not this, not again…”

361

In a burst of static, the scene shifted once again, this time to a high school hallway.

“...Sixer? You okay?” Stan choked out.

Ford didn’t even look away from the memory.

Skipping class, getting caught sneaking out of the school, being sent to detention.

“He always just dragged me down,” Ford growled.

381

Working on the boat instead of studying for an upcoming chemistry exam.

“I should’ve cut him off a long time ago.”

415

Two science fair projects sitting side by side — one, a non-functional robot, the other, an invention that should’ve revolutionized the world.

“I always knew that I’d be better off without him.”

472

491

518

“So that’s really what you think about me,” Stan whispered. Ford gave no sign of having heard him.

He reached for Ford’s hand, but without even turning around, Ford swatted him away.

550

And Stan…

Stan had been prepared for Ford not to forgive him. Stan had been prepared to drag Ford out kicking and screaming.

He hadn’t been prepared to hear that Ford had never wanted him around in the first place.

“You know what?” he shouted. “FINE!!”

It wasn’t fine, no matter how loud he screamed that it was.

“You can be better off without me right here, in this fucked up horror movie television, for the rest of all eternity! See if I care!!”

Ford didn’t flinch.

“SEE IF I CARE!” Stan repeated, whirling around and storming off towards the edge of the memory.

He didn’t look at his hands, but if he had, he would’ve seen his number jumping up:

106

160

195

He didn’t look back at Ford either, but if he had, he would’ve seen that Ford’s number was no longer visible, because his hands and arms had become obscured by a shifting pattern of static.

“I never needed him,” Ford mumbled, his voice crackling with interference. “I never needed anyone.”

Everything was white, and everything was blurry. It was white because Stan had at some point, without realizing it, made his way back to that first empty hallway he’d found himself in, and it was blurry because he had long since given up on trying not to sob.

He knew, instinctively, that from this room he could leave whenever he wanted simply by willing it to happen, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He may have been a liar through and through, sometimes out of selfishness and sometimes out of necessity, but he’d told the Cat the truth. If he left Ford here, he’d never forgive himself.

He slumped to the ground, pulling his knees close to his chest. Years ago, his mother had told him that dwelling on an issue would always be more painful, in the long run, than any choice you could make to try and change the situation — and after he’d gotten kicked out, he’d tried his best to take that advice to heart, and focus on things he could do to turn his life around.

But now, he wasn’t so sure her advice rang true. He only had two choices — trying to find Ford again and save him, or abandoning him for good, and he knew both of them would just hurt him more than he could ever possibly bear.

Everything hurt. Every happy memory he’d once desperately longed to relive just hurt now, corrupted by the knowledge that Ford had never really been happy in them. That Ford had never truly wanted him around.

Even back during the happiest summer of their lives, when they’d discovered —

Stan covered his ears as a burst of static rang through the room like a clap of thunder. Still sitting on the ground, he turned to face the wall he’d previously had his back to…

And there it was again — the silhouette of a ship’s mast that he’d glimpsed on the way in, two children’s t-shirts flying from it like flags. But this time, the whole ship below it was visible too, bobbing up and down as choppy waves of static battered its hull.

Stan outstretched a hand towards it, his number obscured beneath his palm, and a blast of salty ocean air struck him in the face as the world exploded into color.

He stood on the bow of the Stan O’ War — the completely repaired, seaworthy Stan O’ War, its deck polished and cabin furnished — and faced a tropical coastline, dotted with emerald palm trees and surrounded by vivid pink coral reefs. A colossal volcano rose above the horizon, with a plume of smoke and ash lazily drifting away from the crater at the top, and beneath the crystal-clear waves Stan could spot a pair of sea turtles following the ship, keeping their distance but eyeing it curiously.

Which was all very confusing, because Stan couldn’t remember visiting a place like this and was fairly certain Ford hadn’t either…

The moment that thought popped into his head, his surrounding began to change. Colors grew less vivid, his depth perception failed him, and shadows vanished altogether as the scene reverted to a cartoonish state, complete with dialogue bubbles and sound-effects written out in familiar handwriting.

Stan stood in the pages of a comic book he’d drawn eight long years ago, currently held by the memory of a ten-year-old Ford.

“You really think we’ll get to go on adventures like this one day?” Ford asked, but he didn’t sound skeptical. If anything, he sounded wistful, like he wanted to believe it.

The young Stan from the memory watched with a satisfied smile as Ford flipped through the comic. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

The scene shifted, and Stan found himself kneeling on the beach, watching his younger self hammer nails into a plank on the boat while Ford held it in place. Both of them looked sweaty and exhausted, yet also… so, so happy.

“Wherever we go,” the young Ford declared like a mantra, “we go together.”

From somewhere not quite within the memory, Stan heard the sound of a distorted gasp.

Kneeling on the opposite side of their younger selves and watching them intently was the real Ford — except now, only his face was visible, while the rest of his body was awash with static. The pattern flickered erratically, branched and jagged patterns of lightning bolts crackling within it, but Ford seemed oblivious to everything except the events playing out in the memory in front of him.

“We were both so happy,” he whispered, eyes flickering between the two younger twins as they pressed their hands together in a high-six. “What changed?”

“Stanford, we — we’ve gotta get you out of here,” Stan choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening to you, but it —”

Ford’s head snapped up to look at Stan, to really look at him for the first time since they’d entered his memories, with a incredulity in his eyes that suggested he was only just now realizing that the real Stan was in there with him.

“This isn’t right,” Ford mumbled — and initially, Stan flinched, assuming the words were directed at him. But a moment later, the speed of the memory accelerated to a dizzying blur, fast-forwarding to more scenes familiar to both twins.

Stan going to Ford’s gym class while Ford took his math test, and coming home with a black eye but also a smile on his face, because he’d given a couple of Ford’s bullies the kicks in the shins that they’d deserved.

Stan and Ford staying in the theater after watching Stan’s choice of comedy flick, and sneaking into the second showing of the sci-fi movie Ford had been anticipating for so long. Dodging the worst of the crowds, and having a great time in both with the theaters practically all to themselves.

Making the most of detention together, passing notes behind the teacher’s back.

With each memory, the static covering Ford receded further, first leaving his hair and then his shoulders and arms. He stared down at his hand, waiting for it too to become clear again and reveal the number on his palm —

Just as the receding line of static reached his wrist, the scene shifted one more time. They stood in a familiar living room, lit only by the pale blue light of a television…

“The argument,” Ford whispered.

Stan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as the static shot back up to Ford’s shoulders.

In the memory, Ford stormed into the room, waving a crumpled bag of toffee peanuts in the air as he stared daggers at Stan. “Can you explain what this was doing next to my broken project?!”

And Stan sneered back at him, throwing his paddleball to the ground where it snapped in two. “College dreams are ruined, huh? Guess you’ve got no choice but to go sailing now!”

The TV behind Ford exploded, glass shattering as bolts of blue electricity arced from wall to wall. The whole room trembled as sparks and smoke filled the air, and both the Ford from the memory and the Ford cloaked in static stumbled as they tried to step away from the searing rays of plasma —

“Sixer!” Stan grabbed Ford’s hand, and a jolt of electricity ran up his arm, sending black and white pixels flickering across his vision. “Ford, are you the one doing this?!”

Ford hung limp in the air, suspended in place where Stan had caught him halfway through a fall. The spot where their hands met burned like nothing Stan had ever felt before, like the static was trying to creep up his own veins and into his own body, to unmake him and rewrite him and embitter him from the inside out — but all Stan could bring himself to do was tighten his grip, as he watched a crack snake through the floor beneath Ford’s feet.

“You’ve got to stop this, Ford! This isn’t what happened!”

The whole room shuddered as the crack split open, revealing a massive chasm of static with no bottom in sight. Ford staggered backwards, the ground beneath him crumbling as more and more glowing white cracks zigzagged through it — but before he could topple backwards and fall, Stan used his free hand to grab him by the collar of his staticked-out shirt.

It felt less like he was grabbing something material and more like he was sticking his hand in a fire, but he still pulled Ford closer, until he could wrap an arm around Ford’s back.

“And what really happened wasn’t great, either — it was awful — but I never wanted it to happen, I swear! I’m so sorry, Ford — I never wanted to ruin your dreams, and I don’t want to lose you in here, either! These aren’t your real memories, and — and I know how lying to yourself feels like it’ll hurt less, but in the long run, it… it doesn’t. I promise!”

His arms went numb, and his vision began to fade as something wet sizzled and evaporated on his cheek.

“And if you still want to be mad at me, I — I can’t blame you. But be mad at me for what I really did! Be mad at me when you’re safe at home, or at college, or wherever you end up in life — not in here! Please, Ford, let me help you get out of this place…”

He heard a voice, close to his ear but garbled by static.

“Ford? You with me?”

Ford tried again, and though it was quieter this time, it came out comprehensible.

“Was it me who changed?”

“Ford, we… we both fucked up. I should’ve just told you about breaking the machine as soon as it happened — then you might’ve been able to fix it…”

The burning feeling began to subside, and the crumbling living room reassembled itself as the scene playing out inside started over.

“I might’ve accidentally been… horsing around…”

“This was no accident, Stan! You did this!”

“I still should’ve believed you,” Ford mumbled, stepping back from Stan as he stared at the memory. The static dropped below his collar, then below his shoulders.

“Maybe there's a silver lining, huh? Treasure hunting?”

“Are you kidding me? Why would I want to do anything with the person who sabotaged my entire future?!”

“And I shouldn’t have brought up the boat like that!” Stan told him. “I shouldn’t have joked about it! I didn’t realize how — how important that school on the other side of the country was to you, but now I do…”

Both twins flinched as they watched Filbrick enter the memory, grabbing Stan by his shirt.

“I should’ve stood up to Dad!” Ford went on, his head in his hands. “I never should’ve let him kick you out —”

“You know you wouldn’t have been able to change his mind.” Stan stared at the ground. “I should’ve known that, instead of blaming you for not taking my side…”

“I never wanted to cut ties with you, Stan.” The static receded even further as Ford spoke, dropping down to the level of his belt. “Not when I wanted to go to West Coast Tech, and not even after the argument — but when Dad threw you out, I convinced myself that I never wanted to see you again. That you’d always just been dragging me down — because it was easier to believe that.”

He took a deep breath. “Being angry at someone you hate… it’s so much easier than being angry at someone you love, even if you really do love that person. Without that contradiction making you second-guess every feeling you have, it’s so much simpler, so much easier to bear…”

The scene flickered, changing to a memory that Stan had never seen before. It was from after he’d gotten kicked out, he realized.

Ford sat on the stairs of Pines Pawns, slouching and glowering at the floor as he listened to Filbrick and Caryn arguing.

“He’s seventeen! Teenagers ruin things, it’s what they do! You didn’t have to ruin his whole life to punish him!” Caryn shouted.

“That freeloader has been ruining the smart one for years!” Filbrick shot back. “Done nothing but drag his brother down their whole lives, and it’s about time we cut him off!”

He whirled around, and noticed Ford watching them. “Right, Stanford? Weren’t you tired of going along with every harebrained scheme that popped into his head? Of doing all his math homework? Of humoring him, when he said he wanted to sail around the world? Wasn’t it suffocating?!”

Ford didn’t say anything, but he gave a half-hearted nod before trudging back up to his room.

Outside of the memory, the real Ford spoke up. “No, Dad. It wasn’t.”

As the last few pixels of static covering his feet disappeared, he turned to Stan and outstretched his arms for a embrace. “I missed you, Stanley.”

Stan accepted the hug without a second thought. “I missed you too, Sixer,” he whispered.

Waves of static washed over the room for one last time, and when they subsided, Stan was once again kneeling on the floor of the Cat’s car. The Cat herself still stood on the other end of the room, hissing quietly when she noticed Stan awaken.

“Ford, are you okay?” Stan stood up and turned around, and to his relief, Ford was sitting up straight — and staring at his hand, as it shone a brighter green than it ever had before.

And so was Stan’s hand, as it whirled through number after number far too quickly to read. For the first time, it felt warm — not warm like the burn from the static, but warm like hot chocolate and lazy summers and companionship, warm in a way Stan hadn’t felt in months.

0Two beams of light shot up from Stan and Ford’s hands in unison, and on each side of the room, one half of a door appeared, outlined in green and slowly sliding together. When they met, a familiar golden vortex appeared and two columns of light sprouted from it, coiling around each other like a double helix as they stretched upwards and out of the train.

And visible inside the door, clear as day, was the Stan O’ War — right where they’d left it, filthy from months of neglect but still salvageable. Still not that far from seaworthy, in the grand scheme of things.

“Oh,” Ford mumbled. “Of course. That’s really far more simple than anything I theorized about the numbers…”

He turned to Stan. “Are… are you ready to leave?”

Stan gave him a thumbs up. “Wherever we go, we go together.”

As he followed Ford towards the exit, he turned around one last time. “Hey, Cat? We won’t miss you.”

Ford didn’t bother to turn around, but he did wave a double middle finger in the Cat’s direction, which Stan chuckled at. The two of them stood side by side at the door for a moment, both in the awkward position of waiting for the other to go first.

Then Ford smiled. “High six?” he asked, raising his palm with the zero on it.

“High six,” Stan agreed, and they stepped though the portal with their hands pressed together.

***

“You know, this is a little ironic,” Ford commented shortly after removing himself from the sand dune he’d faceplanted in. “Just before the exit showed up, I was thinking about how I was actually looking to exploring more of the train, since I’d have you by my side.”

“Oh, good. We both remember it,” Stan replied, spitting out sand. “I was always kind of wondering in the back of my mind if it was a hallucination. Also, that’s the sappiest thing I’ve heard all day, and I said some really sappy stuff back there.”

Ford ignored the second half of his remark. “Well, even if our memories failed us, we’ve also got physical proof backing up the experience…”

He pulled out the device he’d stolen from the Cat, which was still glowing and reacting to both their voices and the ambient sounds of the beach. “I need to thank you for that time you tried to teach me to pickpocket, by the way. The train had a lot of advanced technology that I want to try and replicate, and it’s going to be a lot easier with an actual example to take apart.”

“Oh shit, you stole something? Ford, I have never been a prouder brother in my life.”

Ford chuckled. “It might be a tad unethical, but after some basic study I could probably claim to have ‘invented’ this, and use the funds from selling the patent to afford the tuition to a nicer college than Backupsmore. I do still want to spend some years studying and working on a higher education, but… I hope you’ll keep in touch when I do. It’ll be a lot less fun without you around.”

He rested a hand on the Stan O’ War. “And in the meantime, while I work on reverse engineering this technology… I think there’ll definitely be some time for some boat repair and treasure hunting.”

“Poindexter, your hand is in seagull shit. Better add ‘boat cleaning’ to that list.”

“Ugh, you’re right. At least it’s dry.” Ford carefully moved his hand to a less dirty spot on the boat. “So, that’s a yes to the treasure hunting?”

“Oh, you know it.”

***

Afterword:

Using the sensor stolen from the Cat, Ford invents a new type of sonar that’s significantly more effective than the current versions. With that technology, the boys track down a bunch of shipwrecks, and start getting famous for their discoveries and “invention.”

When Filbrick hears about this and realizes that his sons are on a track to fame and fortune and not sharing any of it with him, he’s initially furious but then tries to approach them and ask them to let him back into their lives, which they refuse. (Caryn divorces him soon after, and Shermie cuts ties around the same time. None of them ever send him money.)

Thanks to his work, Ford wins a scholarship to a well-respected university — it’s not quite West Coast Tech, but it’s also a lot nicer than Backupsmore. He opts not to take classes in summer even though they’d help him graduate faster, and spends all his breaks sailing with Stan.

Stan does get a little bored during the school year when Ford is busy, but Ford notices and suggests he start drawing comics again. Stan is hesitant and a little insecure at first but eventually starts honing his art more and brainstorming plotlines with occasional input from Ford. Using some connections he made in treasure hunting press interviews, he eventually gets a deal to have a short comic series published — then it turns into a huge success, and his comics (loosely based of his and Ford’s childhood) get picked up for many more issues.

Somewhere along the line they become friends with Fidds, probably thanks to some inter-school technology fair where he and Ford both competed, and eventually the gang heads to Oregon to investigate the anomalies concentrated in a town called Gravity Falls. Bill shows up at some point and tries to pull some characteristically Bill bullshit, but he’s no match for a pair of twins that have actually developed some half-decent communication skills. Many more years down the line, Dipper and Mabel’s childhood is full of visits from their famous scientist/explorer/artist grunkles.

***

Thank you for joining me on this crazy train ride! All your responses have meant a lot to me, and I know I’ll look back on this experience fondly (even if it was a lot shorter than my multichapter fics tend to be).

[garregmachmatchups]

na hi, may i request a normal matchup? i’m bi so i don’t have a gender preference! also i’m an infp if that helps at all. my organizational skills aren’t the best but i’ll try to make this as understandable as possible: 

to start off, i’m pretty scatterbrained! my attention span isn’t the best, and neither is my short term memory. i tend to get lost in my thoughts a lot, and when i snap out of it, it takes me a few moments to figure out just what i was supposed to be doing. it is a lot easier for me to pay attention to things that i find interesting, such as a really good story or a fun game! there is one caveat though, in that i tend to fixate on that thing for hours on end, to the point that i forget to eat or sleep.

i’m also overthinking and impulsive! i put these traits together since they kinda blend together. my overthinking makes me second guess myself, and i get restless and frustrated when i dwell on things for too long, so i kinda just… say fuck it and go with my instinct so i won’t have to deal with that uncertainty anymore.

that being said, i’m also quiet and polite, so i don’t really come across as, well, a dumbass to most people (at least, i assume so). i get good grades, i took a bunch of honors classes, and i’m pretty good at math, so i guess i seem smart and studious (…despite the fact that i barely study). apparently, i don’t seem like the type of person to cuss either, since a lot of people i know are surprised when they hear me start swearing like a sailor.

i’m also shy and awkward. i’m slow at finding the right words and figuring out what i want to say, so verbal conversations are difficult, especially with people who aren’t used to me and vice versa. due to my… scattery brain, i guess, i often need others to repeat themselves too, which makes things worse. i do try to be a little more outgoing, but it’s mostly small things like making casual small talk with classmates and making little jokes to keep things light. and this is just partially related, but i’ve… been told several times that i sound like a scared child. i don’t know how to feel about it.

lastly, i try my best to be helpful! i try to support and encourage my friends, and overall just be a positive presence. i like making other people happy. i’ve been really dependent on others in the past (and kinda still am), and i’m trying to make up for it, in a way. as such, i really admire to kind, strong (in more ways than one!) people as well. however, i’ve developed a bad habit of keeping my negative feelings to myself. i still do vent when i think that i really need someone to hear me out, but that’s only when i feel like i’ve hit rock bottom. i can’t help but feel embarrassed about depending on others. i’m… still really weak to praise and affection, though.

as for interests and hobbies, i love reading scary stories, though i like all forms of horror! i just find shorter stories much easier to get through. i’m also really into crafts like knitting and cross-stitching, since the motions are relaxing and making things by hand just feels nice - especially if they’re gifts! i dabble in other creative pursuits as well, like writing and drawing, and i’ve always wanted to get into gardening though i’ve never had the space for it.

i’m a huge dog person too - i have three dogs who i love very much and i have made it my mission to pet every dog i see (as long as i’m allowed to, that is). annnd i really like the thought of going on late-night walks, though i’ve never really gotten a chance to due to possible safety issues. 

sorry for the length, i just wanted to try to cover as much as i could! i understand that matchups take a lot of work, so thank you so much and i hope you have a great day!

Hi!!! Happy New Year everyone!!! First matchup of the year oh yeah. And thank you for writing all of this down and don’t worry it seems very organized to me! Btw, for some reason, i’ve been having a lot of trouble concentrating on writing recently, so I hope your matchup isn’t too bad fam. Anyways, your match is…

Ferdinand von Aegir!!!

At first glance, you two may not seem so compatible, but the more I think about it, the more I think you guys would go really well together. Ferdinand is a thoughtful and attentive guy, on top of it all he is also very responsible, so he’d be able to aid you in your tendency to be scatterbrained. I’m sure he could look after you in this aspect if you asked him for help but he’d simultaneously try to help you best this as well. For your tendency to overthink, he’s definitely someone who would encourage you to believe in yourself and in the decisions you make. As a preacher of discussion and debates, Ferdinand who although is very competitive, also strongly believes in growth and development, therefore in his eyes, it’s okay to be wrong, as when you know you are wrong you can improve. This may prove to be something difficult for you to embrace at first, but even then the fact that Ferdinand would express that sentiment to you would let you know that he would not judge you for the mistakes you make. Ferdinand is very well mannered and defined, as he strives to be the ideal of nobility. Your politeness and the educated mien you seem to convey to others would definitely make an impression on Ferdinand. As he would later come to know, you are also quite intelligent, which would only prove his initial thoughts about you. He might be a bit taken aback when you start cussing, and might not personally like it, but it wouldn’t really take away from your other qualities. Ferdinand is also quite the social butterfly, and a skilled conversationalist, so first of all, he’d have no trouble making conversation with you, even if you might sound a bit like a scared child sometimes. Secondly, even better, i’m sure he’d be glad to give you tips and tricks on how to start a conversation with people. Lastly, INFP personalities I think really fit into Ferdinand’s concept of a noble, someone who dedicates themselves or feels the need to help others, in addition to being someone who is always willing to improve. In your case, this is best exemplified by your want to be helpful and make people happy. Even if you may not be completely independent right now, Ferdinand would nonetheless come to recognize and deeply respect your efforts. Most importantly, because of your open-mindedness and acceptance, Ferdinand could find you to be a very valuable conversation partner, even if you may feel like you have a lot of shortcomings in that area. For how kind and amiable Ferdinand may be, he can be a bit unmindful and clumsy with problems or concerns he doesn’t quite understand or grasp, despite not trying to be so. Therefore your more open and empathetic outlook on things could help him understand and connect with others better and ultimately help him grow as a person as he wishes to do.

Headcannons:

When Ferdinand first laid eyes on you, he was immediately drawn to you.

You were very polite but also quiet. In his eyes, you just seemed regal in a sense. 

That’s why when he started talking to you, he was very confused as to why you were so shy and awkward while talking. He saw how much you tried though, and at that he couldn’t help but smile.

He notices, however, how helpful and kind you are to others, and how much effort you put into making others happy.

Afterwards he makes it his mission to help you in any way he can, determined to make people see you as he does, including yourself, truly the noblest of nobles.

You try to explain to him that you really don’t want to depend on others. At that he lets you know you aren’t depending on him, as you yourself are making the progress, and he is only lending a hand. He also tells you that despite you not knowing so, you’ve helped him grow as a person quite a bit as well, so the only thing he can do is return the favor.

We all know Ferdinand loves his tea time, but he especially loves it with you. He also loves hearing your heartening and positive outlook on things. It makes him see things through rose-colored glasses at times.

Tea time also comes to be of great help to you, as it’s literally an activity where the point is to make conversation.

He’s very patient every time you speak, and he listens to you with an amount of attention you aren’t sure you would ever be capable of, or anyone for that fact.

Speaking of which, the first time Ferdinand heard you curse he just sat there with his eyes almost popping out of his sockets, incredibly shocked to the point you thought he might’ve had a heart attack. That is until he started bursting out laughing at your sudden outburst. 

Have I mentioned Ferdinand is super romantic? He’s known to smother people with praise to the point where they just would just rather disappear.

Of course, his praise giving and affection is only going to increase by tenfold with you. He literally almost praises you just for smiling. You swear to god you’ll faint one day from it all.

He always makes a cup of tea for you while you are knitting or cross-stitching. He’ll sometimes ask you to make something for him, maybe some gloves or a scarf. He either uses them a lot because he just loves them too much or almost never uses them because they are just too precious to him. Just one or the other.

He’d totally get you a small garden where you can plant whatever you want. If you ever planted started planting something to make tea out of he’d totally cry.

You two would sure make the noblest couple ever. 

Other matches: Hilda Valentine Goneril, Ingrid Brandl Galatea

Hope you enjoyed the matchup! If you feel like you weren’t portrayed correctly/I misinterpreted your information let me know and I’ll make the corrections!

[grownups-are-the-real-monsters]

Friends With Benefits Play Truth or Drink - Pete & Henry

Summary: Based off this Youtube series.  Pete & Henry, friends with benefits, must choose between the cold hard truth or a nice drink....

(Dreamcatcher)

Words:  2,772

Ship: Pete/Henry 

—Cut—-

“On the count of three, name who likes who more?” Henry flicked the card between his fingers and with a roll of his eyes, took a peek towards the men behind the camera. As if he hadn’t agreed to film this video. 

“1....2...” 

Pete opened his mouth with a small bashful smile-

—Cut—-

Pete Moore anxiously bounced his leg and waited for the ‘ok’ to start their introduction. It was Beaver (of course) who’d originally pulled them into filming this video. He’d been working at the place for a couple months now and had quickly become an audience favorite. Thus, more videos gave him a starring role and he suggested his good ol’ buddies come in. 

Blaine, the camera man, stood with a small grin behind a large camera and waved his thumbs up above. 

“I’m Pete.” 

“I’m Henry.” His companion smiled at him from across the small table filled with some nice choices of alcohol. “And we’re friends with benefits-” 

{Blaine, the director, off camera: “What are the benefits?” }

Pete giggled as if he were a teenager again and attempted to avoid answering by putting his face into his cupped hands. But this only tossed the chance over to Henry, who could put intelligent sentences together so beautifully when he wanted to- 

“Great sex.” Henry could barely get that out without also succumbing to the childlike giggle fit. 

{Blaine: “How well do you know each other?”}

Pete lifted his face and turned casually on his chair, like none of this really mattered and he was just plopping down for a normal lunch. “We’ve know each other since we were....” He gazed off and tapped his fingers to the table. 

“Eleven.” Henry nodded. “The sleeping together...that started...-”

“Your Junior year of High-School. I was a Sophomore-”

“Oh yeah! And you had that weird Math teacher, right? He-uh...he used to eat his lunch during your class and chew with his mouth open, didn’t he?” Henry shoved his elbow on the table. 

“Shit, I forgot about that-” Pete started to prepare a long story concerning just that teacher but was almost instantly shot down. 

{Blaine: “Woah-woah, you’ve known each other that long?”} 

“Yeah! So not only could I tell you where his moles are but I could also reveal all of his deep, dark childhood secrets.” Henry chuckled again which was always a wonderful sound. 

Their story was true. They had in fact been ‘Friends-with-benefits’ on & off for quite some time now. It had become something so natural and normal to their relationship. So much so that Pete almost forgot how it had been during those early days...almost. 

Sometimes it still shocked Pete how often Henry could throw him off with comments like that. They came pretty few and far between but Henry was a weird little shit when you got down to it. Behind all the intellect and sophistication was a true oddball. It was probably the reason why he’d drawn so much interest since high school. All the girls had adored him even though Henry hadn’t really shown interest in anyone. 

Yeah, he was kinda scrawny and looked like he could be the classic hero in a boring book but he sure was attractive. 

Pete kicked him from under the table. 

—Cut—-

“Alright. I’m going first.” Henry smiled and reached over to the pile of question cards that Pete had sort of been anxious about. He watched the reflection of his arm in the nearest alcohol bottle on the table and enjoyed the chilled breeze of air that came with Henry’s retraction. “Man, this is a tasteful way to start.” He smacked the card with the back of his hand which made Pete all the more eager. 

“Where’s the weirdest place we’ve ever had sex?” 

Pete smirked. “You could go with the time that we did it in the bathroom of my Dentist’s office. Remember? We had the time because that Aubrey girl cut in front of me to get her braces off and got in, even though I was there first. Which-” Pete turned back to the camera and pointed sharply. “I am still mad about Dr. Dearborn.” 

{Blaine: “Why was Henry taking you to the dentist?”}

“I was a sophomore and couldn’t drive yet.” Pete rolled his eyes and turned back towards Henry. 

Henry blinked a few times and tried to play-off the admiring smile but the camera picked it up quite clearly. “-Or the time we did it at that Pumpkin farm...in the bathroom that was decorated with all those corn husk dolls.” Henry shivered at the memory. 

“That was a good one.” Pete nodded. “Oh, but more recently, what about the time in Beaver’s childhood bedroom?” He could barely finish without breaking out into easily spread giggles. “Damn. I hope he doesn’t watch this.” He bite back another laugh, knowing full well that was a dumb-ass thing to wish for considering Beav was the one who dragged them there. 

Henry shook his head. “Oh, but what about the time-”

{Blaine, laughing: “You guys gotta move to the next question”}

“Ok, ok.” Pete reached over to the pile of cards and willed it to be something just as ridiculous as what Henry got. Part of him had thought the whole video could be a fun little thing to do but the other part of him was kicking himself for agreeing. 

He turned the card over and felt a sharp pain shoot through his gut and chest. He didn’t fucking know if he wanted to hear the answer or not. “When was the last time you had sex with someone who wasn’t me?” The card was laid back onto the table with gentle nerve twitching hands. It was a fair question, considering they’d been doin’ the thing since Sophomore year Pete really thought being an astronaut was a viable career option. 

Henry shrugged. “Easy. I haven’t slept with anyone else since we were sort of off that time ...almost two years ago now.” 

That eased Pete’s stomach enough to relax into his chair. 

{Blaine: “What happened two years ago?”}

The men shared a tiny look and found they were both waiting for the other to answer. 

Henry took lead, per usual, with his carefree smile. “Nothing really.” He shrugged and tried not to pay too much attention to Pete, who had finally broke and prepared himself a shot just for the hell of it. “We just fizzled it out for a while. Which happens with things like this.” Henry gestured between them and looked for Pete who eyed his friend carefully to make sure it was ok to explain.

“Sometimes Henry’s not into the sexual aspects of a relationship.” Pete shrugged, not sure how much of this conversation was going to be left in the video. “It’s not always something he...wants. He goes through periods where he’s just not into it.” He raised his brow and Henry nodded in confirmation. 

{Blaine: “You don’t have to answer but, you said you hadn’t slept with anyone else since then, Henry? So did you sleep with someone else during that time?”}

Henry frowned and picked at the skin on his hand, a nervous tick he wasn’t used to. “Yeah...A while after Pete and I paused, I slept with this friend of mine...Owen.” Henry looked back to Pete, who looked as calm and casual as can be. Henry swallowed a little disappointment. “The attraction just sorta happened-” he shrugged “But it never happened with him again after that.”

Again, Pete was pretty casual in nature. He was nodding with a gentle neutral grin. But inside, Pete was brimming with that same ugly old jealousy he had back then. But he didn’t want to seem too attached to Henry on camera...it would be pathetically sad for people to see that when Henry clearly didn’t feel the same. 

—Cut—-

Henry turned back to the table and picked a new card. “Oh, this is a good one to answer now-...What are the terms of this relationship?” Henry set the card down and watched Pete swallow his drink. 

He cleared his throat and leaned back. “It’s always been the kinda deal where...” Pete let his hand float over the table. “We just kinda fall together-? It happens when it happens. We were each other’s first sexual experience really. Which, in itself is special. But there’s no strings attached. Never have been.” He scratched at the back of his neck and hoped that made sense. He didn’t want to come across as a dumb-ass even though he truly thought he was. 

He didn’t seem to notice the way Henry fluttered his eyes down to the floor and bit into his lip but once again...the camera did. 

—Cut—-

So it was Pete’s turn once again to reach into the pile of cards. But just as soon as he read what he’d have to ask Henry, his casual act dropped for a moment as genuine dread took over. “You can drink because I already know your answer to this.” Pete set the card down and leaned forward, elbows curled on the table. 

{Blaine: “You gotta read the card, Pete!”}

Blaine’s voice was teasing and gentle but it only served as a bitter contrast to the look of concern on Henry’s face. He rolled his eyes and picked it up again. “What is something you’d like to change about me?” 

There was a silent communication exchange then. The boys didn’t need to voice their words, seemingly because it was something they’d discussed a lot...or maybe just because they were just on the same wavelength. 

“I’d like for you to be a little less stubborn...” Henry’s tone wobbled as he tried his best not to slip into his ‘Psychiatrist’ voice. “Concerning you know, acknowledging the problem you have with alcohol.” He hoped that was the most gentle way to phrase it, considering they were playing a drinking game on camera. “That’s all I’m asking for right now...” Henry shrugged. Pete felt his stomach tighten. If they fought this out right now, would Blaine gladly film and post that?

{Blaine: “What would you change about him, Pete?”}

He was clearly trying to keep the room calm and give them both a fair shot at the heavy question. 

“I would change...” Pete licked his lips and frowned. “I don’t know the fuckin’ word for it...but the way you’re blind to your own pain.” He felt the back of his shoulders twitch with anxiety. “You want to help me with my problems but you won’t even have a conversation about yours.”

Henry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and took in one small quick breath. 

—Cut—-

Pete and Henry scooted close to the table once again, looking much more relaxed. 

Henry reached forward and stole a card with a small smile.“On the count of three, name who likes who more?” Henry flicked the card between his fingers and with a roll of his eyes, took a peek towards the men behind the camera. As if he hadn’t agreed to film this video. 

“1....2...3” 

Pete opened his mouth with a small bashful smile-

At the exact same moment, both spoke their answers. 

“Me.”

“Me.” 

Henry and Pete paused to give each other a little look before bursting into fits of laughter. 

Henry came back from throwing his head back and mocked a frown. “Dude, don’t lie. You gotta know that it’s me.” 

Pete shook his head in that jovial kid way that Henry adored so much. That big smile was on his face to match it too. It always reminded Henry of a happy dog shaking about to dry his fur. “Henry, man, I was the one who initiated this back then-?”

Henry exaggerated a gasp. “You did not! I did!” 

They were pretty sure Blaine wasn’t going to keep their whole play-fighting session in the video but nonetheless, they kept it going for as long as they could before moving on. 

—Cut—-

“F-...This is embarrassing” Pete hid his face in his hands which only served Henry the option to reach out and pull his arms away.

“Go on! Read the question. It’s what you signed up for.” Henry happily leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms. 

“Read the last booty-call I sent you.” Pete mumbled, clearly blushing in pure embarrassment. Henry giggled and slid out his phone. 

“Is it though? You don’t really send them all too often.” Henry pushed his frames up again and began scrolling through their conversations, Pete following along on his own device just to prepare himself. “I think I’m the one who does that.”

Pete shrugged. “Well, I don’t because I wanna make sure you're comfortable. I want you to have the control 'cause I know you don’t always want to do stuff like that, y’know? I want you to make the first step. I don’t want to put you in an awkward position where you might feel bad for turning me down, which I should hope you wouldn’t ‘cause I get it, H.” Pete said this with his face tilted down, eyes narrow and reading. 

He completely missed the fragile, appreciative glance from Henry. “Ok. You read one of mine instead.” He shook himself out of his frozen little moment of pure adoration with a dazzling smile. 

Pete chuckled. “If that’s what you want.” He continued to scroll until he stopped on the text bubble of choice. “This is my personal favorite text I’ve ever received.” He smacked a hand to his chest. Henry rolled his eyes. 

“If you would like to come through on your previous proposition to ‘hang out later’, I’m gonna be free for you fool around with at 9....” Pete held up a finger. “And he then adds, two minutes later-” He smirked. “But that’s an hour or so after my dentist appointment so my mouth might still be numb from the filling...” 

Pete could barely hold himself together by the end. He curled over and laughed into the table, clutching his stomach as Henry giggled. “Oh man. Like..-I wanna frame that shit, Henry.” He wiped his eyes of tears.

{Blaine: “What is with you two and dentists?”} Blaine’s laughter sounded from behind the camera. 

“Read what you responded with, pal.” Henry shoved his phone across the table which Pete gladly took and tried to read with his blurring eyes. 

“Are you sure you want another filling so soon after that one?” Pete fuckin’ wheezed. “And a classy winking emoji followed.” He collected himself and tried to stop making eye contact. 

—Cut—-

Henry reached out for another card and fluttered his eyelashes behind those horn-rimmed glasses. “Last question, Pete. You ready?” 

Pete nodded, arms resting on the table and a look of determination on his face. He spared a fleeting glance to the alcohol sitting on the table and realized they’d not really put it too much use. He allowed himself to feel good about that fact. 

“Why would it be bad for us to be in a committed relationship?” His friend asked in a low-tone before tossing the card into his used pile. 

They were quiet for a few seconds before a gentle looking Henry spoke. “I don’t think it would be bad...do you?” He tipped his chin towards Pete, who looked a little uncharacteristically nervous. 

Pete did that little head-shake again but much softer. “No, I don’t think it would be bad.”

They did that weird little mind-conversation again before throwing each other small grins. “I think we deserve a little cheers?” Pete flowed forward as he slid his clutched palms down his legs and titled his chin towards the bottles. 

Henry debated that for a moment or two. 

{Blaine: “Not gonna share that moment with the audience then, huh?”}

Pete and Henry looked to each other again with the excitement of two friends thinking the exact same thing at the same time. “Nah.” Their heads shook and splayed out their hair a little. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Henry agreed and slowly reached over for his glass. “Instead-” He chuckled. “Pete and I are going to have ourselves a little cheers and go home.” 

Pete smiled and felt himself perk up as Henry poured small drinks for each of them and raised his own glass. 

“To SFDD” Henry clinked and admired Pete’s quirked brows. 

“SFDD? What’s that?”

Henry looked at him like it was obvious and then smirked. “Same fuck, different day.”

Pete spit out most of his drink onto the crisp white table and nearly choked on the laughter. 

[violetwolfraven]

Doubt Quiets

Since the jomike part of the Reincarnation AU is going to happen but not for a long time, here’s something as a kind of holdover that is in that universe but won’t be in the main fic when I get to writing that.

@gendistic42 this one’s for you! Hope you like it!

Tw: referenced suicide attempt and internalized homophobia.

Jojo was absolutely terrified, but he was doing this, anyway.

He had to do this. He couldn’t back down now, or he would never get the courage to try again.

He’d only gotten this far because he was riding the adrenaline he’d taken from that rooftop.

God, he didn’t know how Jack had gotten there in time to talk him down, stop him from jumping. He must have gone about a million miles per hour above the speed limit.

Jojo was glad he did. That was one thing he hadn’t expected.

It was kind of surprising that Jack was trusting him to be alone this soon, but he was glad about that, too. He needed to do this for himself, by himself.

Jojo adjusted his grip on his flashlight, climbing higher into the tree in the Guzman family’s front yard. Only one bedroom had a window facing the front yard of the house, and he knew for a fact that the boy who occupied it used this tree to sneak out sometimes, so hopefully, Jojo could use it to sneak in.

He was high enough off the ground for the second time that night that a fall could at best seriously injure him, and that was making his hands shake enough that he had to concentrate doubly hard not to fall.

Oddly, this kind of fear felt... familiar. But along with it was a fierce determination, a drive that said this was something he needed to do.

Hesitating only for a second, Jojo reached out and knocked on Mike Guzman’s window.

No answer, but that was probably reasonable considering how late it was.

Jojo knocked a little harder, still hoping he didn’t wake the whole family.

There was a space where he wasn’t sure if he was going to knock again, and then Mike opened the window, looking about 150% confused.

“You’s scared the livin’ shit outta me,” he admitted, “Jojo? What’re ya doin’ here?”

“You belong together,” Jack had insisted, “I can’t explain how I know, Jojo, but... God, I just know! You’s meant to be together, and ya both want it and I promise it’s not wrong to want that. You trust me, right? You and Mike are meant to be.”

Jojo took a deep breath. If there was any chance he could’ve backed out before, it was definitely gone now.

“I had to see you. Can I come in?”

Mike still looked confused, and maybe a little worried, but he nodded and reached out to help pull Jojo in the window, then over to his bed so they could sit.

“What is it?” he asked, seeming more worried, now, “Not that I don’t condone climbin’ a tree in or out a window in the middle of the night, but... well, for you, it’s weird. Are you okay? You’re shakin’.”

“I’m...” Jojo sighed, “God, where to start?”

He’d looked away, being extremely nervous, and Mike reached out to turn his face back toward him with a light touch on his chin.

“How ‘bout the beginning?” he suggested gently.

The beginning? Where was the beginning, exactly? When Jojo had moved from Harlem and wound up meeting the best friend group he could have asked for? How they felt like family right from the first day and how it was like they knew him and he knew them right away, from very the first second he met them?

How one boy had been all of that, but dialed up off the charts?

Jojo had known Mike from the first moment he met him. And not ‘known’ as in, he knew his name or his favorite color or whatever small talk they exchanged.

As in, he knew Mike. Knew who he was in his core. And as much as Jojo had tried to deny it, that very first moment—the first time they made eye contact—was like the universe punched him in the stomach and said this is one yours.

As they became friends, that feeling only intensified, growing stronger and stronger. It felt like he was home every time Mike said his name. It felt like the earth shook when he smiled at him. It felt like Jojo had the entire world in his arms when they hugged.

He hadn’t been able to deny his feelings forever, no matter how hard he tried.

Plus, the dreams hadn’t helped, but Jojo was still trying not to think about those.

He dreamed of his friends a lot, and Mike was no exception. Sometimes, it was just normal friend stuff, fun random things with a few other people. Sometimes it was a terrible kind of nightmare where they got hurt or worse.

But more and more often lately, the dreams were more... heated. Of time stolen in alleyways and on fire escapes, or quiet, slow kisses while cuddling in a bunk bed at night.

Those were the dreams Jojo had tried the hardest to forget, feeling that they were wrong even though he couldn’t control them.

Long story short, however nauseous it made him feel with anxiety, Jojo was tired of denying his feelings. Of pretending one person didn’t make him forget to doubt himself.

Maybe that was a good place to start.

“It’s a long story,” he said quietly, “And you’re gonna... you’re gonna wanna interrupt me, but don’t. I need ya to shut up and let me say the whole thing. Okay, Mike? Promise?”

Mike still looked worried, but he nodded.

Jojo took a deep breath.

“My whole life, I felt like there was somethin’ wrong with me,” he began, “Ever since I was little, it was like I was searchin’ for this thing I knew I was supposed to have, only I didn’t know what it was. All I knew was there was a piece of me missin’. Maybe more than one, but then...”

Jojo smiled, thinking of the memory.

“Then I met Elmer and Buttons in math class. For the first time in my life, I felt like some of the holes in me might be filled. Our friends became the kind of family I always wanted. One where I didn’t hafta be afraid of disappointin’ anybody... but I still doubted myself. I still doubt myself. All the time.”

Mike looked like he wanted to say something, but true to his word, he stayed silent.

“There’s a part of me that says every little thing I do is wrong,” Jojo admitted, “I don’t trust myself. I never have. So how could I trust my... my feelings? My feelings for you.”

Mike’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but he didn’t speak, clearly fighting the urge.

Jojo loved him for that. For keeping his word even though he clearly didn’t want to.

“I was raised to believe it was wrong,” he explained quietly, “But I couldn’t fight how I was drawn to ya, Mike. You filled in more spaces than anybody else. And maybe I’m... maybe I’m just tired of fightin’ it. I am tired of fightin’ it. There’s no way out of this. How I feel ‘bout you.”

This was going to be the bad part, but he knew that Mike deserved to know.

He’d find out eventually, anyway. Better that Jojo was the one to tell him.

“I couldn’t deal with it. Like I said; there’s no way out. So I... I tried to take a permanent one.”

“Jo...” Mike grabbed his hands, clearly having forgotten his promise to let Jojo talk, “Please tell me you ain’t talkin’ ‘bout...”

“Jack found me on the rooftop of the school,” he whispered, “If he hadn’t talked me down... I woulda splattered myself on the sidewalk.”

“Jojo.”

“Ya said you’d let me finish,” Jojo reminded him.

Mike still looked uneasy, but he shut his mouth.

“He told me lovin’ you ain’t anything to be ashamed of, and...”

Jojo had to take a deep breath before continuing.

“I do,” he said firmly, “I do love you. And I never thought I believed in love at first sight before, but... but I loved ya from the first second I met ya and I didn’t even know why. I still don’t, but... I know ya make the doubt in my head quiet. You’s the only thing that makes it quiet.”

There was a couple seconds of silence before Jojo realized his mistake.

“I’m done,” he said quietly, half-terrified of the other boy’s response.

But the doubt in his head was quiet right now. Because of Mike. He usually couldn’t trust anyone not to hurt him, but he trusted this boy he loved enough to believe he’d be careful with his heart.

Still, the silence was making him uncomfortable. He didn’t know why Mike hadn’t said anything yet.

When Jojo looked up, he was shocked to see that he was crying.

“Hey, Mike, it’s okay.”

Mike laughed, but he let him wipe the tears from his face.

“You’re comfortin’ me? You’s the one what almost jumped off a fuckin’ building, Jo. I... fuck, I’m so glad Jack stopped ya.”

“Me, too,” Jojo admitted.

Shivers ran up his spine as Mike trailed his hand from Jojo’s, all the way up his arm, over his shoulder and up to rest on his cheek.

��I knew you somehow the second I saw ya, Jo,” he whispered, “And I... I think I started fallin’ for ya that same day.”

Something in Jojo already knew that, some part of him thought he’d even heard it before, but a larger part was feeling nothing but happy surprise.

“Ya mean ya actually... actually love me, too?”

“Yes,” Mike laughed, having to wipe tears out of his eyes again, “God, yes, I love you, too. I knows ya ain’t supposed to say that when you’s only a teenager, but I love ya more’n I can say and I have since the day we met.”

Dang. Now Jojo was crying, too.

A part of him was still terrified, wanting to run, screaming at him that all of this was wrong, because as much as he wished he could believe the others when they said being gay was nothing to be ashamed of, you couldn’t unlearn a lifetime of toxic teachings from your blood family and church after just a couple months short of a year with a family that was your choice.

Mike took a shaky breath, clearly trying to hold back another sob, “I don’t wanna imagine what I’d do if I lost you, Jojo.”

For some reason, that sentence made Jojo flash to a world where he didn’t have to imagine losing Mike, because he had. He’d seen a world like that in his worst nightmares before.

He shoved those images away, grabbing onto the front of the other boy’s shirt to ground them both.

“I’m right here. Shh, Mike. I’m right here. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

Mike leaned in closer suddenly, and though it caused all kinds of wonderful butterflies, knowing what he was about to do, there was also a burning, undeniable terror.

The kind that still came whenever he did anything his parents wouldn’t approve of.

Mike stopped at the last second, just barely a breath away.

“You’re shakin’.”

Jojo was shaking, all the way down to his soul, and he couldn’t decide if it was from the good kind of fear or not.

“I guess I am,” he said breathlessly.

He could feel the heat coming off the other boy’s skin.

“Can I?” Mike asked, his voice barely even audible.

Jojo was still absolutely terrified, but he knew what he wanted nonetheless.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Mike hesitated for a second more, waiting to see if Jojo was sure.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, “This is okay.”

All this felt... familiar, for some reason, but Jojo couldn’t think about that right now.

Because Mike was digging his fingers through his hair, kissing him deeply and desperately, as if trying to fit a million overpowering feelings into one single, blissful moment.

Hell, Jojo was trying to fit a million overpowering feelings in here, too. He was still working on believing this was real.

He was still trying to wake up his heart. To stop his hands from shaking as he balled his hands into fists in the other boy’s shirt.

To figure out why the fact that this kiss was definitely their first didn’t feel true.

“Still shakin’,” Mike observed when they broke apart for air.

“It was cold out in that tree,” Jojo deadpanned, and they both laughed.

Mike ran his fingers through Jojo’s hair with a small smile, and Jojo leaned into the touch. It felt good. So good.

“Well, next time, don’t let it get so bad that ya gotta rush over here so fast. Call me when it gets bad enough that ya almost...” his face turned serious again suddenly, “Jo, I can’t lose you. I ain’t that strong.”

Jojo tried to take a deep breath. He felt a little nauseous, thinking of the view from the rooftop that came with any thoughts of Mike trying to talk to him about this.

He knew he couldn’t pretend this didn’t happen forever, but for now, he wanted to.

“Can we talk ‘bout this in the morning?” he asked, “I gotta sneak back into my house, anyway—my folks can’t know about... this.”

Mike pulled him back down on the bed when he tried to stand up to leave.

“I’ll let ya put off this conversation on one condition.”

Jojo tilted his head, “And what’s that?”

“Five more minutes?”

That cheeky smirk did more to him than it probably should, but Jojo definitely wasn’t complaining.

It felt wrong that he still couldn’t kiss Mike, himself. Like the limits he accidentally had from a very homophobic childhood shouldn’t be there, but were.

Still, he knew he definitely wanted to kiss Mike again, even if part of him still wanted to run away and/or throw up.

“Ya said ya wanted five more minutes,” he said, “Are ya ever gonna kiss me again?”

Jojo wasn’t sure where that kind of almost... flirting banter came from. He hadn’t thought he knew how to do that. He’d never had a boyfriend, or even a girlfriend. Hell, as a theatre nerd, he didn’t really flirt with anyone.

But this kind of banter with Mike? It was easy. It was instinctual, like they’d done this a hundred times before instead of never.

Mike snorted, “Ya really want me to, love?”

“I really do.”

They both laughed, and then Mike’s lips were on his again, and Jojo didn’t have time for doubting himself or that this was morally right, because he was so in love that the fear was quiet for now.

Jojo was sure he would doubt himself plenty, later, but for now, he could love and feel and want and not care about possible consequences.

“Oh. My. God.”

Jojo realized that Ike was standing in the doorway and promptly wanted to die.

Mike looked like he wanted to die a little, too, but he was still finding a way to smile awkwardly.

“Hey, brother. How’s it goin’?”

“I heard talkin’,” Ike responded with a shit-eating grin, “I figured you’d snuck someone in, but I didn’t expect to find ya makin’ out in the dark with Jojo de la Guerra. God, Mikey, if Mom and Dad knew ‘bout this—“

“I’d be totally dead,” Mike interrupted, “I know. Got anythin’ relevant to say?”

Ike shrugged, “Just that Sniper owes me five bucks. Hi, Jojo.”

“Hi,” Jojo mumbled, “Uh, my folks can’t know ‘bout this, either.”

“Relax. I ain’t a snitch. That said... I ain’t gonna tell ya what to do, but you should probably go home soon, ‘fore anybody suspects anything.”

Jojo nodded, still avoiding eye contact, “I probably should.”

“Oooookay. Have fun. Night.”

Well, at least it was easier to breathe, though still awkward once they were alone again.

Mike smiled softly, then gave him one more sweet kiss and stood up.

“You should go. Don’t want your folks missin’ ya.”

“They won’t till mornin’,” Jojo said with a shrug, “I’s got plenty of time to get back.”

“I still don’t wanna take the chance ya get caught,” Mike said firmly, “Ya couldn’t even tell ‘em ya had gay friends—better not to risk it.”

The thought of what his parents would do if they ever did find out made Jojo’s stomach turn, but he swallowed that feeling and headed for the window, turning on his flashlight.

“I’ll be watchin’ to make sure ya make it down alright,” Mike said.

Neither of them was moving from just standing by the open window, letting the cold air in the house.

“I love you,” Jojo said, sitting on the window sill to reach for the nearest tree branch.

“I love you, too,” Mike responded, “That don’t change the fact that ya gotta focus on the tree climbin’.”

Honestly, Jojo was anything but focused right now, but he managed to make it down the tree safely.

He could still see Mike watching, if he looked up, in the light of the street lamp.

Street lamps have always been good lighting for him.

Huh. What a random thought.

Jojo waved goodbye, and waited only long enough to see Mike wave back before turning to walk home.

[vexedtonightmares]

last dance (elu ballet au) chapter trois 

Lucas is in his final year at the Paris Opera Ballet School and he’ll be damned if he lets his former friend-turned-rival Eliott steal the lead role in their production of Swan Lake.

aka- lucas and eliott are rivals who are forced to room together for their final year of ballet school before they try to enter the company. we can all see where this is going.  

i. ii. iii.

ao3

Vendredi 17:00

Rehearsals finally ended for the week with a stern dismissal. It kind of sucked that they had hip hop as the last class of the day, because they were all dying by that point and nowhere near capable of executing their combinations to the standard they should. It was especially bad that week, as they were all a bit out of shape from spending their holidays slacking on training. No matter how much any of them had kept up with their training over the summer, nine hours of class five days a week with only an hour break in the middle was a whole different experience.

They had all begrudgingly accepted their criticism in class without complaint, knowing that the concerns were justified. Lucas didn’t care too much, especially because it was just hip hop. He loved the class normally, but with auditions looming he didn’t really want to think about anything other than ballet for the next week.

He was sure that he’d already clocked in more hours of extra practice time than anyone else, even though they’d all been there less than a week. Manon had chided him plenty, lecturing him on the importance of letting his body take the time to rest, but he wasn’t taking any chances this year. If he didn’t get the role of Prince Siegfried, it wasn’t going to be from a lack of work.

He tried to blink the thought away, not even allowing himself to consider that he might not get the role. Obviously, it was a large possibility, but it wouldn’t help his confidence if he went in feeling defeated. He had to go into the next week and into the audition like he’d already secured the role, and everything else was just a formality. It was what people like Eliott and Manon would be doing, anyway.

He noticed the way the other girls in the year grimaced at Manon during class, knowing that the role of Odette was hers alone. At least, Lucas supposed, he had some chance at getting the role he desired. He didn’t think the role of the Prince was as set in stone as Odette. Then again, he could just be fooling himself.

He packed up his things as quickly as possible to head to studio three, the room he’d reserved for extra practice that night. He’d asked Manon to join him so they could practice partnering as well, and, thankfully, she’d agreed.

She was already there when he arrived, sitting on the floor and pinning her hair back into a bun. “Long time no see,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

He smirked in return. “You do what you’ve got to do…”

“Oh, Lucas, come on now. You seriously don’t need to be worrying so much. Everyone can see how much you’ve improved over the past year and a half, you’re a shoo-in for a lead role,” she tried to reassure him as he sat beside her.

“That’s just it, Manon. I don’t want a lead role, I want the lead role. This is the only role that’s ever really mattered to me.” He didn’t know how to accurately explain his feelings, his yearning. This wasn’t just another show for him. Even though they weren’t even in a company yet, this would probably be an experience he remembered for the rest of his career, and he wanted it to be a good memory.

She didn’t respond, just grabbed his hand and squeezed it once. It was nice to not have to communicate with her through words sometimes. There wasn’t really anyone else he could do that with, not even Yann. She released his hand as her phone buzzed and she looked at it, blush spreading across her cheeks.

Lucas cleared his throat pointedly and she looked up with wide, falsey innocent eyes. “Who is it?” he prompted, wiggling his eyebrows. “Charles?”

Charles had been one of the stars of the class a year ahead of them, along with Lucille. Lucas had always suspected he and Manon had gotten close, so to speak, during Nutcracker rehearsals, but then he’d gone off to be a part of the Royal Ballet company in London, and she’d never confirmed or denied their relationship.

“No,” she said with a scoff, returning her attention to her phone.

“Then…?” he inquired slowly, stretching out the word.

She took a moment to type, then set her phone face down inside her bag. “It’s nothing.” Lucas raised his eyebrows, not entirely convinced. “Seriously,” she added, rolling her eyes.

“Sure.”

“Sure,” she mocked, sticking out her tongue childishly. “What about you, any hot guys catching your eye recently? Are you seeing Charles?” she asked with a faux gasp, hardly containing her laughter.

“Hilarious, Manon, truly,” he deadpanned, avoiding her question. It was no secret that he was gay, and it was also no secret, at least to everyone who knew him well, that he had never dated anyone before. Sure, he’d kissed a few people at a few parties in the past, but none of them were worth remembering or pursuing beyond those nights. Actually, his longest relationship might have been with Chloé when they were thirteen. He cringed when he thought back on it. He’d been at the height of his repression of his sexuality and she’d been cute and nice, and he thought, maybe it could work with someone like her.

They went on one awkward date to the cinema, not knowing if they should hold hands or kiss or what. The night had ended by them both coming back to school, Chloé giving him a small kiss, and him blurting out that he was gay right to her face. It was a wonder she was still friendly with him. Thankfully, she’d kept his words a secret until he’d been ready to tell everyone, one reason he’d always have a soft spot for her, complicated history or not. He’d probably have reacted much worse had their situations been reversed.

To answer Manon’s question simply, no. He didn’t ever really have the time to think about romance, and had even less now. “Yes,” he told her, “I have one, actually.”

“Oh?” she prompted excitedly. “Who?”

“Prince Siegfried.”

She rolled her eyes again. “You are impossible.”

“Thank you,” he grinned, standing up and holding out a hand. She grabbed onto it reluctantly and allowed herself to be pulled up from the ground. “Now, we practice.”

“Now, we practice,” she repeated, rolling out her shoulders and facing the mirror, focused. He moved behind her and allowed her a few moments to prepare, a few relevés, a few practice pirouettes and balances in retiré before he grabbed her hands and began spinning her, moving his hands to her waist as she spun around.

And around.

And around.

And around.

And around.

Samedi 13:42   

The door to Lucas’ suite was, fortunately and unfortunately, unlocked when he returned to his room after practicing on his own for most of the morning. The unfortunate part was that this meant Eliott was in the room, the fortunate part was that he’d accidentally forgotten his room key that morning before he’d left. He couldn’t imagine the embarrassment of having to go to the director to ask to be let back into his room.

Eliott was sitting in the living room when he entered, fully focused on whatever work he was doing on his laptop. Shit. Lucas realized he must have been doing their general schoolwork, math, literature, biology, the like. All of their courses were taught online, so they could pace themselves individually, but there were still assignments due at the end of every week, Saturday nights.

Lucas had been so caught up on practicing for his audition that he’d forgotten about this work, forgotten that he wouldn’t even be allowed to audition if he was behind on his work. Fuck. Hopefully there weren’t many assignments, given that it was the first week back, but Lucas wasn’t holding his breath.

“I was worried you’d forget about our actual schoolwork.” Eliott’s voice was soft enough that Lucas hadn’t realized he was being addressed at first. Lucas paused where he stood at the counter, washing out his water bottle.

“You weren’t hoping I’d forget so I wasn’t eligible to audition for the show?” Lucas shot back.

Eliott actually looked up from his work as if stunned Lucas had responded. Apparently he’d been doing a better job ignoring Eliott throughout the week than he’d thought. “I’m not worried about auditions,” Eliott responded breezily, making Lucas’ blood boil. Of course he wasn’t worried, he thought the role would just be handed to him, like everything else in his life.

“Maybe you should be.” Lucas shut the sink off harshly, picking his bag up off the floor and bringing it into his room, slamming the door shut before Eliott had a chance to respond. He threw his bag to the floor, annoyed at how easily he always allowed Eliott to get under his skin.

He opened his laptop and blasted his music through his headphones, drowning out any possibility of distraction so he could get his work done and possibly return to the studio later that night for extra rehearsal time. He still didn’t have the solo audition piece completely memorized, and he only had about a week left to perfect it.

Thankfully, there were only three lesson videos for him to watch, each one requiring the completion of an assignment to go along with it. Straightforward enough.

Lucas got to work, taking notes as he went, finding that he was actually interested in some of the material they were learning. Weirdly enough, he’d always been drawn to science, and he was quite good at it. Maybe in another life he wasn’t a dancer, but a normal high school student studying science. It was almost laughable for him to think of himself as anything other than a dancer, but maybe a universe existed where it wasn’t such an odd concept.

He finished the work just in time, submitting the assignments ten minutes before the online due date, cursing himself for forgetting to do them earlier in the week. As a reward for himself, he watched a few episodes of a tv show he was into at the moment, forgetting for a minute that the time he spent watching tv probably should have been spent in the studio.

By the time he emerged from his bedroom to use the bathroom, he had assumed Eliott would already be in his room or asleep. No such luck, he realized, seeing Eliott sitting on the couch and scribbling into a notebook. Lucas couldn’t tell exactly what he was doing, but Eliott had always loved drawing as a kid, so maybe it was a habit he’d maintained.

Eliott poked his head up from what he was doing when Lucas exited the bathroom, shutting the notebook gently. “What’s up?”

Lucas looked behind him to see if maybe Sofiane had walked in and he just hadn’t noticed. He heard Eliott laugh softly. “Lucas? Are you ok?”

“You were talking to me?” Lucas asked slowly, still not convinced. What about any of their interactions over the past eight years had told Eliott they were at the ‘casual conversations’ stage of a friendship? Or even at any stage of a friendship?

“Who else would I be talking to?” Eliott asked, cocking his head to the side, his tangled mess of hair somehow still defying gravity. Lucas shrugged and continued walking back to his room. “Wait,” Eliott said, “You’re not going to eat?”

“I already did,” Lucas said, not turning around. He felt a hand grab his arm and turn him around, stunned a moment to be so close to Eliott, who was looking at him intensely. “I made dinner,” Eliott said.

Lucas scrunched up his face in confusion. “And? I ate before I came back from the studio with Manon.” He wrenched his arm from Eliott’s grip but didn’t move any further, wanting an explanation for the weird parental behavior.

Eliott looked away somewhat shyly. “I… I’m just trying to be a good roommate.” The words came out clumsily, as if they hadn’t been what he really wanted to say.

“A good roommate,” Lucas repeated.

Eliott didn’t say anything, looking at the ground, then back up at Lucas. The look in his eyes was unreadable, but familiar at the same time. It sort of felt like Eliott was able to see right through Lucas and he didn’t know how far he could go before he ended up pushing too far. Lucas hated it, this familiarity. There should have been no familiarity left between them.

“I was Arthur’s roommate for years, you know,” Eliott said at last.

Lucas didn’t know why this was relevant. “Ok?”

“Arthur talked about his friends sometimes,” Eliott continued, “And you’re one of his friends.”

“Are you really still trying to, what, psych me out? Tell me you know my weaknesses or something? Cool, Arthur talked about me. He never talked about you to me, if that’s what you want to hear.” Lucas raised his eyebrows incredulously as Eliott rolled his eyes. “I haven’t given a shit about your daily habits in eight years, and neither have you, so why pretend now?”

It wasn’t strictly true, Lucas had cared a bit too much for a bit too long, but Eliott didn’t need to know that. “You know what? Fine. If this is what we’re going to do, how we’re going to live, fine. Excuse me for trying.” Eliott raised his hands in surrender, stalking away to his bedroom. Just before he closed the door, he added, “But just so you’re aware, I’m not going to pretend I don’t notice.”

Notice what? Lucas would have asked had Eliott not slammed the door shut in a manner similar to the way Lucas generally did. He hadn’t realized how harsh it could be from the other side. Whatever, if anyone deserved it, it was Eliott.

Lundi 13:14

Lucas had spent the rest of the weekend alternating between time in the studio and time working ahead on assignments so he didn’t have to worry about them with the stress of auditions on Friday and result postings Saturday.

When he’d woken for his run that morning Eliott had been up again, but this time he hadn’t bothered Lucas about what he was doing, or even spoken to him. In fact, they hadn’t spoken to each other since Saturday night, and Lucas couldn’t be more glad. Maybe Eliott would just let them drift through the year in uncomfortable silence. It wasn’t great, but it was a hell of a lot better than Eliott trying to be a ‘good roommate’.

Yann, Arthur, and Lucas were off campus for their lunch hour that day, making their way to one of Yann’s favorite cafés. Lucas hadn’t wanted to leave, but the boys convinced him to because Basile would be on his lunch break as well, able to meet up with them.

“Hey! Gang high five!” Basile said by way of greeting when the three of them entered the cafe. None of them obliged him, as per usual, and Basile sat back down with a defeated grimace. Lucas wasn’t entirely certain how Basile had become a part of their friend group, but one day he had just sort of started showing up more often and they found they mostly enjoyed his company. He was a nice break from the constant pressure of the ballet world.

“What’s up at ballet school?” Basile asked, shoveling food into his mouth like he’d been starving for years.

Yann shrugged. “Nothing much, ballet this, ballet that.”

“Fascinating,” Basile nodded, breaking into laughter.

Lucas frowned. “Nothing much? Tell that to my callouses. I’ve been in the studio nonstop.”

“Ah,” Arthur chimed in, pointing at Lucas with his fork, “That’s because you’re crazy.”

“I am not,” Lucas said defensively, looking at Yann for backup. Yann merely bit his lip, holding back a smile. Lucas scoffed, slapping Yann on the arm. “Et tu, Brute? I’m just trying to be prepared for auditions.”

“Lucas, I say this with love, but I don’t think working yourself to death is going to do you any favors when you pass out from exhaustion in the middle of auditions,” Yann said matter-of-factly.

Lucas huffed, crossing his arms. “I will not pass out from exhaustion. I sleep.”

“Do you though?” Arthur asked knowingly, and maybe he had a point. It wasn’t from a lack of trying. He’d actually been trying to get to sleep earlier to be well rested for practices, but his brain had other ideas. It wasn’t something he could just will away, as much as he wanted to.

“Yeah, dude, I didn’t want to say anything, but I could probably see your under eye bags from Mars,” Basile added hesitantly. Lucas shoved his food away angrily. “I didn’t come here for you to all gang up on me,” he fumed, knowing their worries were probably justified, but still being too stubborn to admit it.

Basile threw his hands up in surrender. “I just call it like I see it.”

“Whatever,” Lucas sighed dejectedly, stabbing a piece of lettuce with his fork angrily. Yann and Arthur exchanged a look, the latter clearing his throat. “So, Baz, how’s non-ballet school?”

Basile shrugged, speaking with his mouth full. “Same old, same old. Oh, but get this, Alexia transferred out of the ballet school!”

“Uh, yeah, Baz, we’re aware. We kinda noticed she was missing this year,” Arthur pointed out.

Basile frowned. “Oh yeah. Well, she’s hosting a party Saturday night if you’re all interested. I think she already told the girls about it. Maybe Daphné will come,” he added, hopefully.

“We are definitely interested,” Arthur responded immediately, “How much booze?”

Basile laughed, “It’s Alexia, I’m sure we’ll be covered.”

Arthur raised his fingers to his lips in an imitation of a chef’s kiss. “Excellent! You guys in?” he asked Yann and Lucas.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Yann said, high fiving Arthur, much to Basile’s dismay. They all turned to Lucas expectantly. He folded in on himself a bit, twisting his lips uncertainly.

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, Lulu,” Arthur pleaded, giving Lucas his biggest, poutiest expression. Lucas wouldn’t be swayed so easily. “The casting comes out that night, I won’t be much fun anyways, I’ll be too stressed,” he argued.

“Fair,” Yann agreed, “But what kind of best friend would I be if I let you wallow in anxiety, alone, with only Eliott for company?”

Yann had a point.

“Woah, woah, woah, Eliott? That douche Arthur rooms with?” Basile cut in.

“He’s not a douche,” Arthur said, ignoring Lucas’ glare.

“Yes he is,” Lucas corrected.

Arthur sighed. “He’s not a douche to me. But yes, that Eliott.”

Basile gestured for Arthur to carry on, still clearly not understanding the full picture. Arthur continued, “Room assignments got switched up this year, Lulu got stuck with his arch-nemesis and I got Yann and Sofiane. It’s gone about as well as you’d expect.”

“Nah,” Yann chimed in thoughtfully, “I was betting Lucas would have killed him by now.”

“I’ve come close,” Lucas mumbled under his breath, quiet enough that his friends couldn’t hear. He knew that they thought his rivalry with Eliott was ridiculous. Even Yann, who knew most of the details of their friendship and had to deal with the aftermath. He knew it was annoying to them, it was annoying to him too, but as long as Eliott was there, he was problem number one on Lucas’ mind. Not wanting to subject Yann and Arthur to another rant about Eliott he said, “Fine. I’ll go to the party.”

Basile lit up. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Really, really?” Arthur confirmed.

“Really, really.”

Yann, Basile, and Arthur cheered, earning them glares from an elderly woman sitting a few tables over. “This is going to be the best night ever!” Arthur promised, and Lucas hoped he was right, but for a different reason.

Just because he was going to a party, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be checking his emails obsessively for the cast list. Hopefully he’d have something to celebrate but, if not, at least he’s have an excuse to drown his sorrows.