#da- nope...not gonna...call him...that...

On the couch, though, your phone vibrates nonstop:

'Emergency call from Pips. Need air support. Will make it up to you later, promise.'

'Running a bit late. More Wanderers. Blondie's not too bad with his sword, I guess.'

'She's hurt. Bad enough to be admitted, but not bad enough to laugh at jokes, lol.'

'Gonna spend the night at the hospital just in case. Do you want me to tell her to feel better soon? She always believes you more than me 🙄'

'You're probably sleeping already, my bad. I'll take you to that book signing event as soon as I'm back from Skyhaven, ok? Cross my heart.'

'I love you, baby.'

You're stupid. So stupid.

Why did you delude yourself into thinking Caleb would ever put on the same pedestal as his Pipsqueak?

He never did before. Why would it change when you two got together?

Especially when it comes to his darling, little sister?

"Not by blood, but we do share the same grandmother. That still counts, right?"

"I practically had to drag you from bed and toss you into the shower this morning. I'd say my picture deserves to be above the definition of 'big brother' in every dictionary. Past, present and future."

"You didn't have to do any of that! I was going to wake up on my own eventually."

"What? After you hit the snooze on your alarm clock for the third time?"

"Caleb! Stop being mean! You can't win with him, seriously. Don't let his ugly face trick you, OK?"

"Tell that to this. Ta-da. Found this love letter in my locker just now, fresh out of the oven. Nuh-uh, nope! Too slow, Pipsqueak!"

"Stinky, mean Caleb! I just want to know that girl's name. Someone had to warn her about you, after all. I'm glad you're not like other girls; you're so, uh, mature. Yeah! 'Cause you don't have a crush on Caleb, unlike the rest of the student body, blergh."

"I don't know, Pips... let's hear what she has to say, hmm? What do you think? Do you secretly have a crush on me? Is that why you're always sneaking a glance when we're in class?"

"Can you not make my new bestie uncomfortable for one second? Clearly she doesn't, duh. You just happen to sit in front of her. Don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't bother you too much. Now gimme that letter, you dummy!"

You wanted to tear your hair out for being so damn stupid.

You shouldn't have gotten involved with both of them.

And now look where you are. Hurt over a siscon man with a severe case of Wasgonnabut syndrome that will never choose you first.

That alone could send any baddie into a downward spiral, but a familiar coos un/fortunately stops yours.

"Oi, oi! Back away from the windchime!" You hollered, snatching the broom and making a mad dash to the kitchen window.

The crow squawked, very indignantly, when it saw you waving your weapon around. The delicate string of rubies and blood-red seashells nearly snaps in its beak. Black wings flap in intimidation but they don't faze you.

"You couldn't win against me in the first round, so what makes you think you can in the fourth? Hah?" You demanded, brandishing the broom in a very threatening manner. You wondered what sad loser would build a mechanical crow and programme it to act like a real one when you could just, you know, go for the adoption route at the shelter or hell, pick one up from the damn street, but you didn't care for long. What you care about is this damn would-be thief trying to steal the windchimes that you DIY for months. "Begone, foul demon! Don't make me bring out the spray bottle again! I had it blessed by a priest last week."

It's so surreal when the machine huffs and flies off to cast misfortune onto some unsuspecting assholes. Seriously. What the fuck?

You shut the shutters close since there's no breeze to coax music to life anyway. Reality sinks in again. With it comes an overdue decision.

"In and out. Easy. Quick. Then you can put it all behind you." You murmur to yourself while messaging away the tightness in your chest. Then maybe you can have a breakdown later.

With the grimness of a jaded 40-year-old captain sailing a ship carrying a bunch of expeditioners to the Arctic in a doomed trip, the day is set for you. Fly to Skyhaven while Caleb is working, pack up all your stuff, leave everything he bought for you (even unopened groceries), and take back everything you bought for him (even the mug you bought for his birthday, but MC claimed as hers because she likes the colour).

It's only when the sun long sets that you sit down while sorting through which stuff needs to be donated and which stuff you can bring to the nearest rage room that the items that you bought for your boyfriend tend to end up in MC's apartment. You finally accepted that it was pity the girls from school gave you back then. Not jealousy.

Maybe you weren't stupid.

Just... willfully ignorant.

You were shy, hesitant about many things, and kept to only a handful of friends and family.

And when the sister of the boy you had crushed on insisted that the 3 of you were to be best buds, you believed it. You felt special because she chased everyone away from her brother but you. But that was then, and this is now, 11:25 PM, and you're embarrassed, not knowing if it's better to laugh or cry. Or booked an emergency trip to that rage room.

Actually, any room can be a rage room if you're feeling it.

But unlike MC and Caleb, your purse isn't as fat. Suddenly, your mind replays that video you saw about how an angry woman stopped herself from wrecking her shit up because it was expensive. Until she saw her boyfriends. Hmm. That's an idea.

But for now, binging horror movies and takeouts it is.

And chasing off that damn crow again when it tried to sneakily unlatch the window's lock. "Are you for real!? Bro, get a different hobby already!" You hiss, hands thrown up in exasperation. "I spend good money on those actual rubies, you know. Go steal from a CEO instead. Contribute to society. Spark the revolution or something."

The crow stops trying to break in. It did something you didn't expect: tilting its head and dimming the glowing red in its eyes. It looks pitiful.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. I won't be gaslighted. I got enough of that from MC."

The crow warbled softly, sadly.

"Yeah? Which one of us is feeling more like shit tonight? You trying to steal my stuff or me letting a pair of codependent siblings push and pull me for years?"

This time, the crow tilted its head to the other side. Mimicking a wounded puppy.

You're gonna fold in 3, 2— "Ok, you know what? You want a piece of my windchime? Fine."

And just like that, that mischievous crow switched 180. It hops around when it sees you unlatching the lock and untangling a small ruby from the string. However, you pull your hand back as soon as its beak snaps for the jewellery.

"You can have it if you help me cook. Hmm? Pretty fair deal for both of us." Maybe you shouldn't feel a bit gleeful at how the crow looks, betrayed that you believe in Capitalism but a part of you could use some company or a captive audience for your ramblings. You're not picky.

The crow contemplates for a bit and promptly flies to the stove. It surprises you that it didn't even glance at the windchimes.

"I'm not sure if there's a game controller somewhere piloting you, or am I gonna think too much on the 100 and 1 ways how this can go wrong for me as a young woman living alone, because I just got the perfect name for you. Kitty. There. A little existential crisis for all of your attempted thefts."

The crow, now Kitty, squawked. As if it understands you. Cute.

Kitty proved to be a decent little help around the kitchen. Fetching spoons and tea towels when you pointed at them. Listen when you rant and complain about Caleb. Even sticking around and perching on a hanging light to watch movies with you despite already earning his part of the deal. Though it gives you the stink eye whenever you call it Kitty.

Now, after the credits roll, someone frantically rings the doorbell.

You have a pretty good idea who it is, since your phone has been ignored all this time.

"Baby? Baby, it's me. Are you in? You haven't been answering your phone." Caleb sounds genuinely concerned. He switched to ringing the bell and knocking on the door now. "Baby, please. I'm really worried about you. Why did you take your stuff back? I thought you were planning to move in. Did I do something wrong? Can you please just talk to me? Are you mad at me for cancelling our date? Baby? Shit... I promise I'll pray for the repairs, alright? I really hope you're not standing behind—baby!"

At first glance, the worried lines on Caleb's face gradually fade away when the door swings open, and he sees you, taking all of you in. You did the same, but it only makes your heartache worse because now you know why.

"You're OK. I'm glad... I was really worried that something happened. I don't know what I'll do if two of my favourite girls in the world are hurt at the same time." Caleb tried to joke, but something began to sink in the pit of his stomach when you said nothing, wearing an expression that he had never seen before.

"Not enough, apparently."

"What?"

"Looked at you, showered and everything. If you were so worried, you would've come straight here from the hospital instead of dropping by home and then making a detour."

Caleb didn't wince, but the way his eyes shifted to the side is both telling and all-too familiar. It squeezed your heart. "MC made me promise to change out of my uniform and get something to eat first before meeting you. She says hi, by the way."

Is it a social faux pas to anonymously deliver gift baskets to those girls from school without warning?

Caleb really didn't like how you looked right now. You absentmindedly wondered whether your face matched how you felt right now because even you can't describe it. "I'm... I'm really sorry that I keep cancelling our dates lately. It's just... work and... never mind. I don't want to burden you with my troubles. No need for both of us to be upset, yeah? You deserve the best night ever. So... since we still have a few more hours before your bedtime, why don't we go out? Ramly burgers for supper on me. I've been training with MC, you know. This time, I'll definitely defeat your high score on who can eat the most burgers."

"We're done."

Just as you slam the door, Caleb's shoulder stops it, but you physically barricade him from entering your apartment any further.

"You don't mean that. Right? Baby, please. Is this about the dates? I know you're mad, so let me fix—"

"Fuck off, Caleb," You hisses. "I'm not giving any more chances to a man whose dick is thinner than his lips and will never put me first."

"Thinner than—wait, is this about MC? I told you it was an emergency!"

"How many damn emergencies does one of the top best Hunters in Linkon with a veteran partner need to have in a week!? Huh!? And if it wasn't Wanderers-related, it was always something else! "Sorry, baby, Pips needs some help to go through her taxes again." Or "She needs someone to accompany her for her monthly check-up at the doctor's." It's like she doesn't have any friends, but that ain't true, right, because she won't stop yapping about Tara and Simone whenever she so 'happens' to meet us on our dates! Wake the hell up, Caleb. She's purposely sabotaging them." You pause to critically stare at him, burning with the need for an answer that has been haunting you. "Or you already knew about it but pretend you didn't because she's your precious, fragile little sister."

"That's your best friend you're insulting!" No longer wary, Caleb is growing incessent though you didn't miss how he ignored your last bit. That hurt; the deliberate avoidance of the crux of the matter in your relationship. But like hell would you allow him—or MC—to look down on the girls who didn't know any better until MC set her eyes on them. "Are you jealous. Is that it? After everything she did for you? I thought you weren't like those other girls."

"Don't you fucking dare talk shit about them! They knew better than me! They knew not to get involved with the two of you after MC went to talk to that girl who confessed to you."

"Because she was protecting you! God, baby, I know you're a recluse, but you can't be this naive. They were jealous that you were hanging out with us! Who knows what sort of things they would whisper in your ears if MC weren't glued to your side until graduation? And what about all those times you guys hung out without me? MC had nothing but praise for you after study sessions and cafe-hopping. She thinks the world of you. Can you even imagine how crushed she'd be if she knew how little you think of her in return?

The more Caleb is spewing his bullshit, the more you want to punch him. And he had the gall to call you naive. "Weyh, otak babi punyer pukimak! Did she ever tell you that she copies my homework during those study sessions because she thinks I'm smarter, and lowkey implied that her brother would be so happy to have such a 'helpful' girlfriend? Or what about the times when she would only order her favourites and begged me to foot the bill because she insisted that it wouldn't be a problem as her brother's girlfriend, and that I had more pocket money than her? Pilot tapi lembap bodoh. Lagi banyak you cakap lagi bangang kut. 屌你老母 lah. 傻㞓 punde punyer laki tak boleh pakai. Kau dan adik kau skali gi mampos jer lah kalau nak together-together sangat!"

The more you think about it, the more ashamed you are for being such a pathetic doormat. Going along with every MC's whims just because she's your boyfriend's little sister, and you didn't want her to give Caleb any bad impression about you.

That's why you kept quiet whenever another emergency pops up. Why you let it slide when Caleb shared activties special to the both of you with her.

You played the part of the cool, nonchalant girlfriend all these years because you didn't want to come across as a jealous, hysterical bitch while MC has been tap dancing all over your boundaries, and Caleb simply watches.

You've been toyed with, disrespected, and humiliated for years now. All for a man who refuses to do anything about it.

As for said man, Caleb reeled back; eyes widening. As if he couldn't physically believe your attitude. You didn't expect any different. Why would he? He's nevering like never before with neveristic neverosity right in your face. Absolutely unabashed.

"She wouldn't. Why would she..." He begins, but what hammered that final nail in the coffin of your relationship is that tiny spark of recognition splashed with guilt before it's quickly hidden.

He knew. He knew from the very beginning.

And he liked it when MC acted possessive over him while rubbing it in your face that he would always choose her first.

Caleb Xia was never your boyfriend. MC merely lets you loan him and pulls him away here and there to remind you. All the while, he said nothing, leaving you ignorant of their shared little joke.

She knew that you had a crush on him, and instead of verbally tearing you to pieces like she did to other girls, she pretended to be your friend and only allowed you to be around Caleb under her supervision.

And just like that, you wondered what made you fall in love with this man.

Caleb doesn't deserve to look remorseful now that the can of worms is opened.

"She's just scared that I'll abandon her," He explains. No. Lying down more excuses while pleading. You're not sure why he even bothered. "There are a lot of things we haven't told you about... about where we came from. Please, baby. Don't do this to us. I love you. You have no idea how much I love you." Breathing in and exhaling. Slow but steady. "I'll make it up to you by telling our full story. No more half-truths. I promise." Heavy and deep is Caleb's voice. Filled with unspoken yearning to hold you close and never let go. To right what was wrong in every way he could. Underneath the harsh fluorescent lights of the apartment hallways, he looks vulnerable.

Your legs move on their own. As well as your hand cupping the side of his face. Cradling it as if he's the most precious thing you have ever known.

Instantly, relief washes over. "I love you, baby. You're my piece of the night sky." Caleb murmurs.

You smile softly. "I don't give a shit, Caleb, but I'm gonna take one so... Mak kau hijau, sial." And with that, you kneed him in the balls, HARD, and this time successfully shut the door. Locking up while Caleb's painful cries are muffled.

Although your gut rumbles for the toilet, that did make you feel a lot better. While you would love nothing more than to dish back what MC gave you, realistically, it's just not possible. But hey, fantasising about what you would do to her is sorta therapeutic if not unhealthy. Kinda like junk food, and when the morning sun rises tomorrow, you'll officially be in your baddie era.

As you pass the living room, Kitty is gone, and so is the ruby.

But underneath the hanging light is a bunch of Lotus flowers and pods filled with still-fresh seeds.

You're confused yet appreciative of the free snacks and ingredients for your next bowl of Lai Chee Kang.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Linkon City and within an open window of Philo—

comments:

gracieabrams: YOURE UNREAL

rachelzegler: all american t*ts frr

danielricciardo: Okay who am I fighting today🥊

oscarpiastri: See u in Bahrain (finally)

> yn.adams: FINALLY!!!

> oscarpiastri: You‘ve become busy since becoming a world star🥲

fan: SHES COMING TO BAHRAIN!!!

> fan: FINALLY!! Its been ages

fan: Has she ever been to a race??

> fan: Well… I mean obviously LMAO😭

fan: U supporting Red Bull or Mclaren this weekend?

> yn.adams: Rbr obviously!! Not even Oscar can get me into that orange Garage🤨

> oscarpiastri: It’s PAPAYA!!!

load more comments

*~*~*~*~*~*

"GOOD MORNING!!!", an australian accent yelled into your ear just moments after you entered the Bahrain paddock.

You flinched, immediately slapping the person’s arm. "Daniel!!!", you called and pushed the driver away from you as he tried to pull you into a hug.

"I‘ve missed you so much", he mumbled, pressing you close to him and ruffling your hair after, which made you slap his hand away from your head.

"You seen Osc yet?“, you asked, looking around you, spotting a few photographers whose camera’s where direct to you. Daniel shook his head. "Nope, I thought you‘d come together. I‘m surprised you’re only here now."

You rolled your eyes and kept walking with Daniel. "I was on a video call with my team, discussing the upcoming tour. We gotta work out a schedule and call the venues and stuff", you replied. "We‘ve been on there even before the album came out and I still haven’t completely made up my mind."

"Indecisive little shit", Daniel laughed, making you slap his arm with a chuckle. You made your way to the Red Bull hospitality, Daniel waving at a few people from Mclaren that he was still friends with even after he left the team at the end of the 2022 season.

"I think Kelly and P are in there", he told you before hugging you goodbye. "If you see Oscar, tell him I‘m looking for him", you said, smiling and ruffling through Daniel‘s hair as some sorta revenge, before quickly stepping back and running up the stairs to the entrance.

Daniel laughed and pointed a finger at you. "I‘m gonna get you back!" You giggled and waved as you walked backwards into the hospitality.

Looking around the room you quickly spotted Kelly with her daughter Penelope sitting on a creme coloured couch.

"Heyy, honey", she greeted you and got up to hug you. "Hey, darling", you then said and lifted Penelope up who was reaching her arms out to you.

Just when you sat down, your phone chimed with a new message.

Osc🧡: Meet me in front of Mclaren

You: I‘m not going in tho

Osc🧡: Well I can’t really walk into Red Bull can I?

You: 🙄okay

"I‘ll be back soon, Oscar just texted", you let Kelly know and high fived P who giggled as you did. Jeez, how much you missed that little sunshine!

You glanced around the front porch of Mclaren‘s hospitality but didn’t spot Oscar. And as you didn’t just want to walk into the building you stayed where you were, next to the steps leading up to the entrance.

"You walked in with Danny, right?", someone spoke behind you, making you turn around. The confused expression on your face quickly leaving when you came face to face with the other Mclaren driver.

He sat at one of the tables with another curly haired guy and a blonde girl.

You nodded. "Yeah", you simply said. "You wanna come up here?", he asked, gesturing to the empty chair next to him.

You‘ve never spoken to Lando Norris, all you knew about him was through stories from either Oscar or Daniel. You knew that he spent some of his winterbreak with Danny and Martin in Australia. Daniel had asked you to come along as well but you were busy with the release of your new album so you had to decline.

You looked around you one last time, trying to find Oscar but failed, so you nodded and took the few stairs up to the table the three of them were sitting at.

As you stood directly in front of them, you saw how the blonde girl recognized you. You‘ve always been good at reading people but over the last years you‘ve become incredibly good at telling whether people recognized you when facing them. Even if they try their hardest to hide it, that small second when their eyes widen in realization was enough for you to tell.

"I‘m Lando", he introduced himself, holding a hand out to greet you. "Y/n, nice to meet you", you smiled, trying to ignore the urge to tell him 'I know, I‘m friends with Daniel and Oscar'. "Max and Pietra, friends of me", he then gestured over to the people sitting across from you.

"So, how do you know Daniel?", Lando asked, crossing his arms on the table. "I‘ve known him since I was 8 years old, I think", you smiled, remembering tiny 8 year old you giggling and blushing when first talking to Daniel at the British Grand Prix. "Really?", his eyes widened. "How did you meet?" "Uh, through my dad, he‘s from Australia as well", you answered, leaving out most of the details.

"You‘re australian?", Lando questioned with raised eyesbrows. "No no, my dad is. My mom‘s from America and I kinda grew up between California and Canberra", you explained.

"However, for some reason she likes to ignore her australian origin", a voice said behind you, making you smirk as you recognized the familiar Melbourne accent.

You turned around in your chair and stood up before wrapping your arms around Oscar. "Hey, princess", he laughed. "How‘ve you been?"

"Bit stressful with Tour at the minute but it feels so good to be back here!", you grinned.

As you turned back to the other three, you couldn’t help but notice Lando‘s confused face. Maybe it was the fact you basically jumped Oscar or that he‘d called you 'princess', something he‘s been doing ever since your first Tour when you got gifted a little crown from your fans because it matched the dress you were wearing on stage.

"I se you‘ve made friends already, might wanna stay here for the race?", Oscar asked with a smirk. You slapped the back of his head in an affectionate way. "Nuh uh, nice try, Piastri", you chuckled. "I‘ll be watching from Red Bull, you know that."

The confused expression on Lando‘s face only seemed to deepen with everything you said so you gave him a quick explanation. "My father used to work at Red Bull, so it‘s the team I‘ve grown up with and I‘m not leaving that."

Oscar snorted at you little white lie but you rammed your elbow into his side to get him to keep quiet.

Lando nodded, still slightly confused by the way you and Oscar acted with each other but before he could question it, a team member walked out of the door and told the two drivers to start getting ready for the race.

"I‘ll see you later, okay? You‘re driving back with Daniel?", your best friend asked. "I haven’t talked to him about it but-" "Okay, then I‘m taking you back to the hotel", he interrupted you with a grin.

"Jeez, splitting my time with you two like you‘re my parents", you laughed but agreed and hugged the driver goodbye.

"Bye, bye!", you waved to Lando, Max and Pietra before walking back over to Red Bull.

*~*~*~*~*~*

After the race and all the podium celebrations, you waited in front of the Mclaren hospitality for Oscar, scrolling mindlessly on your Twitter while ignoring the 22 unread messages from your management.

"Hey, Y/n", a voice said behind you, making you look up from your phone. "Lando, hi. Congrats on your race", you smiled. "Thanks, could’ve been better but we‘ll try again next week", he shrugged.

"Jeddah, right?", you asked, not having memorized the calendar quite yet. The driver nodded and played around with the orange lanyard in his hands.

"You coming?", he dared to ask after a few seconds and from the way his fingers fiddled with the orange band faster, you could tell how nervous he was. You shrugged. "I don’t know yet, I’m quite busy with work at the minute, so probably no. But I‘ll definitely be in Melbourne", you replied, trying to lighten the mood by adding the last sentence.

"Pietra told me you’re a singer", he revealed, making you smile at the memory of the blonde girl. "I could tell she recognized me", you admitted. Lando chuckled. "She said she tried her hardest to not let it show but was freaking out on the inside! She‘s actually quite mad at herself for not asking you for a picture!"

You giggled again and shook your head. "She could’ve asked, I wouldn’t have minded", you said with a small smile. "If she’s at a Grand Prix just let me know and I promise I‘ll find her." "I‘ll let her know", he nodded and looked to the ground with the cutest smile you have seen in a while.

The combination of the brunette curly hair, the british accent, the smile and his dimples, drove you crazy and made you heart skip a few beats. But you tried your best to keep it together.

Little did you know that Lando quite literally felt the same about you. Your long hair, along with the color of your eyes and especially your smile made his heart beat a little faster as well.

You stayed in silence for a few seconds, just looking at each other admiringly before a voice interrupted your starring.

"Princess!! Sorry for being late!", Oscar called while walking out of the hospitality with Lily‘s hand in his. You smiled at the sight of your best friend’s girlfriend and send her a little wave which she returned with the hand that wasn’t wrapped in Oscar‘s.

"That‘s okay, I had Lando to keep me company", you chuckled, making the brit smile a little. "You ready?", Oscar asked and you nodded.

He said goodbye to Lando and started walking down the stairs.

"I’ll see you in Australia?", Lando asked one last time. You nodded your head with a smile. "Oh for sure, I wouldn’t miss this race for the world!", you chuckled. "Great!", Lando whispered under his breath and gave you a little wave which you returned before following Oscar and Lily.

"What do you think of him?", Oscar asked as soon as Lando was out of hearing range. "Lando? He’s pretty cute", you simply stated, not daring to mention the other words floating around your head. Nice, pretty, gorgeous, hot and handsome were just a few examples.

"Why do you ask?"

Oscar smirked. "No reason, really!"

tagged: redbullracing, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri

yn.adams: bahrain dump (feat. my two favorite aussies)

comments:

oscarpiastri: You‘re an aussie as well…

> yn.adams: But I‘m not tho…🤷‍♀️

> oscarpiastri: Y/n🤨

danielricciardo: I‘m shown before Oscar

> yn.adams: rolling my eyes as we speak

> fan: LMAOOO

fan: Am I seeing you in the Mclaren garage?

> yn.adams: JUST FOR A SECOND!!!

fan: The race weekend is better when ur there

liked by yn.adams

fan: How does she know Oscar and Daniel??

> fan: Through her dad obviously

load more comments

landonorris started following you

Part 2

taglist

Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist or text be if you want to be taken off x

You smile, a flutter of butterflies filling your stomach. Rolling onto your side, you face him…Noah, blissfully asleep, hair a mess, mouth slightly open. You poke his nose, stifling a giggle through your own. He scrunches his face, half‑asleep, rubbing at the spot with a lazy hand.

“Noah,” you whisper.

“Nouhhh,” you try again, dragging out the sound. He doesn’t budge.

Then the door creaks open, and before you can blink, Theo launches herself onto the bed like a tiny rocket. She crawls between you both, hands planted on Noah’s chest. “No‑uh! It’s time to wake up!” she declares, her face inches from his.

Noah’s eyes flutter open, meeting hers instantly. A slow smile spreads across his face before he sits up, scooping her into his arms. “Good morning, Theo,” he murmurs, blowing a loud raspberry on her cheek.

Theo squeals, kicking her feet, and you can’t help but laugh. Noah tilts his head toward you, still holding her close, his hair sticking up in every direction. “Should we go get breakfast?” he asks, voice rough with sleep but smiling all the same.

Theo shrugs dramatically. “I wanna watch cartoons.”

“How about cartoons and then breakfast?” Noah counters, pressing his forehead to hers until she giggles.

You stretch, rubbing your eyes. “How about I make breakfast and we can relax? I need coffee before I do anything. I’m too old to be staying up as late as we did.”

Noah chuckles, nodding. “I’ll help. Theo, are you gonna help too?”

She wiggles out of his arms and stands up on the bed, bouncing like a spring. “Nope!” she declares, then hops off and scurries out of the room, her little feet pattering down the hall.

You laugh, shaking your head as you pull the blanket aside. “She’s got more energy than both of us combined.”

Noah grins, following you toward the door. “That’s because she didn’t have to clean up the popcorn explosion last night.”

You glance back at him, smirking. “You mean the one you caused?”

He raises his hands in mock defense. “Hey, gravity’s the real culprit here.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile stays. The two of you trail after Theo, the sound of cartoon voices already filling the living room. She’s curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, eyes glued to the screen.

Noah passes behind you, brushing his hand lightly against your back as he heads for the kitchen. “I’ll start the bacon,” he says softly.

You pause for a moment, watching him move around your kitchen like he’s done it a hundred times before, as if he belongs there. The smell of coffee begins to fill the air, and Theo’s laughter mixes with Noah’s humming.

He gets the bacon sizzling in the pan, the smell filling the kitchen as he turns toward you. You’re at the counter, whisking eggs in a bowl, sunlight catching the strands of your messy hair.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Sorry I crashed. I did mean to go home.”

You glance up, smiling. “It’s okay. I didn’t mind. The company was nice.” You tilt your head, teasing. “Plus, the snoring wasn’t that bad.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I was out cold. Haven’t slept like that in ages. Theo was right—your blankets are ridiculously soft. And that princess canopy? Top‑tier comfort.”

You smirk. “Stop staring at me and focus on your bacon, you’re burning it.”

He grins, flipping the strips with exaggerated care. “But you’re sooo pretty with your messy hair and tired eyes.”

You raise a brow. “You’re not one to talk.”

He chuckles, turning back to the pan, and for a moment, the kitchen feels like its own little world.

Theo perks up, eyes bright as she peers out the window. “Lyla’s here!” she shouts, voice bubbling with excitement.

“Why?” you mutter, mostly to yourself. “Theo, can you get the door for her?”

“Yes!” She springs off the couch and flings the door open. “HELLO, AUNTIE!”

Lyla’s laugh rings through the entryway. “Hi, sweet girl.” She scoops Theo up, kissing her cheek as the door swings shut behind them.

You turn from the stove, waving your spatula like it's your hand. Lyla’s gaze catches Noah standing next to you, and her eyebrows shoot up.

“Well, well, it’s the famous Noah.” She says with a wide smile, on that might break her face. Theo giggles as they walk to the kitchen.

“Lyla, this is my best friend Noah,” Theo squeals proudly.

Noah stands, offering his hand with a shy smile. “Me—uh, I’m Noah.”

She sets Theo down, crouching to meet her gaze with a teasing grin. “Good thing he’s your best friend and not Mommy’s, or I’d be very offended.”.

“Looks like I made it just in time for breakfast. “I’ll just– wait in the living room with Theo. Come on.” She says, holding her hand out for Theo to take. “Mommy and Noah have it under control in here.”

Noah smiles at you, sidling up next to you at the counter. “She doesn’t like me, does she?” He whispers.

You bump his hip with yours, “Whats not to like?”

“I was thinking we could go to the aquarium today.” Noah says as he plates the bacon.

“Aquarium? I haven’t been to one of those in years.” You say with an excited smile.

“Perfect. I want you to meet my roommate and one of my best friends, Jolly.” He smiles. “He’s gonna go I already asked and you know meet each other and maybe I can have you and Theo over sometimes. Then we don’t always have to make messes at your house.” He teases.

You nod, “ That sounds wonderful.”

Theo clings to your hand, her small fingers wrapped tight as she studies the man walking beside her. He’s tall, dressed head-to-toe in black, his long hair brushing his shoulders as he strides ahead with purpose. She stares up at him, curiosity practically buzzing off her.

Jolly feels the weight of her gaze and glances down, his mouth curving into a smile.

“Why is your hair so long?” Theo blurts out.

Noah snorts from your other side, clearly enjoying not being the one under interrogation for once.

“I just like it that way,” Jolly replies with a shrug.

Theo squints up at him. “Why do you talk that way?”

“I’m not from here,” he says, amused.

You exchange a look with Noah, the kind that says please, someone find a fish tank fast, but the hallway stretches on, empty and echoing. No rescue in sight.

“Where are you from?” Theo presses.

“Sweden,” Jolly chuckles, glancing between you and Noah. “Man, she’s gonna end up in the FBI. She’s asking all the right questions.”

Noah laughs, shaking his head. “That’s Theo for you, she doesn’t miss a thing.”

You smile, watching your daughter beam up at Jolly, her curiosity unfiltered and fearless.

“You know…” Theo pauses mid-step, then reaches out and grabs Jolly’s free hand like she’s known him her whole life.

Jolly flinches, not in discomfort but surprise , his brows lift, a quick flicker of oh, okay crossing his face before he relaxes.

“My mommy’s really good at braiding,” Theo announces with confidence. “She could probably braid your hair. She braids mine all the time, ‘cause sometimes when she brushes it, it gets fluffy.”

She lets go of your hand, now swinging Jolly’s pinky. “Can I put your hair in pigtails?”

Jolly’s laughter bursts out, “Maybe someday,” he says, still chuckling.

Theo beams, clearly taking that as a yes. “Do you like movies? Sometimes we have slumber parties in Mommy’s bed. Me, Mommy, and Noah had one last night…but Noah got to stay in Mommy’s bed. Probably ‘cause it’s so big. You could probably fit too!”

She says it proudly, like she’s offering him an invitation.

You close your eyes, silently praying that when you open them, Jolly’s laughter will have vanished.

Noah’s cheeks flush red. “Oh, look—” he blurts, swooping Theo up and settling her on his shoulders. “I think I see the slimy sea anemones! Let’s go poke ‘em!”

You exhale, half mortified, half amused. Oh, perfect, you think. Leave me with Jolly. The man I just met.

Jolly’s still smiling, eyes crinkled with amusement. “She’s got no filter, huh?” he says softly, glancing at you.

You manage a laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “None whatsoever. She gets that from her father.”

Noah balances Theo on his hip, her sneakers tapping lightly against his leg as he lifts her toward the shallow touch tank.

“The water’s cold!” Theo squeals, her voice echoing off the glass. She dips her fingers again, eyes wide. “Why are they so squishy? I don’t think I like that.”

She yanks her hand out and immediately wipes it on Noah’s t-shirt, leaving a wet streak across his chest. “It’s sticky, Noah!” Her face twists into pure disgust.

“Hey, keep your sticky hands to yourself,” Noah teases, grinning as he tries to dodge her next swipe.

You and Jolly hang back a few feet, watching the chaos unfold.

Theo suddenly cups Noah’s cheeks in both hands, squishing them together until his lips pucker. She furrows her brows, nose scrunched, and presses her forehead against his. “They’re icky!” she declares at full volume.

“Oh lord,” you mutter, stepping forward before the entire aquarium hears her. “Theo, we can’t yell in here, you’ll scare the fish.”

Noah chuckles, still holding her close, his shirt damp and his smile unbothered. Theo giggles, her earlier disgust forgotten as she points toward the next tank.

“Jellyfish!” Theo gasps, spinning around to look at you, her expression caught somewhere between excitement and uncertainty.

Noah sets her down gently, and she immediately clutches your leg, pointing toward the glowing tank. The jellyfish drift like slow-motion ghosts.

You crouch beside her, the two of you framed by the shimmer of the tank. “They’re pretty, aren’t they?” you whisper. The light washes over you both, painting your silhouettes.

Theo wraps her arms around your neck, eyes wide, completely mesmerized. “They look like floating dresses,” she murmurs, her voice full of awe.

Behind you, Jolly smiles as he catches Noah sneaking a photo.

“You’re in deep,” Jolly mutters under his breath, amusement tugging at his mouth.

Noah doesn’t look up from his phone. “It’s a good picture,” he says, trying to sound casual.

Jolly raises a brow. “I’m sure it is, Noah.”

You glance over your shoulder, half expecting the two men to have wandered off. But they’re still there. Noah’s smiling at you, that easy, unguarded smile Jolly hasn’t seen in a long time. It’s the kind of smile that says I could live like this forever.

Jolly watches him for a moment, then shakes his head with a quiet laugh. “You’re in trouble, man,” he murmurs.

Noah doesn’t look away. “Yeah,” he says, grin widening. “The good kind.”

Theo decides she’s officially done with the jellyfish. She spins on her heel, curls bouncing, and waves her whole arm at Noah and Jolly like she’s directing traffic.

“Come on! Mommy has to see the sharks!”

The two men fall into step immediately, because when Theo gives an order, apparently everyone listens. Noah comes up beside you, slipping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you gently into his side.

“You excited for the sharks?” he murmurs, voice warm against your ear.

“No.” You try to keep your face neutral, but your smile betrays you, tugging at the corners anyway.

Behind you, Theo is still rapid‑firing questions at Jolly everything from “Do sharks sleep?” to “Why are your shoes so big?” and Jolly, bless him, answers every single one like he’s being interviewed on live television.

Your breath catches as you step into the glass tunnel. The world shifts into shimmering blue, light rippling across your skin. A tiger shark glides overhead, massive and graceful, and you stop walking entirely, head tilted back, eyes wide. Noah’s arm slips away as he watches you drift forward, completely mesmerized.

“Mommy, that one is fat!” Theo announces, pointing at a passing shark with zero hesitation.

“That one’s actually pretty small,” you say, scooping her up. “Some get over a thousand pounds.” You carry her to the side of the tunnel, both of you pressed close to the glass as sharks of every shape and size drift by like slow, ancient ghosts.

“That one looks silly!” Theo taps the glass. “Its nose got squished.”

“That’s a lemon shark,” you say, brushing your nose against hers until she giggles.

“She’s pretty and she’s smart,” Noah says as he steps beside you again, his hand settling on the small of your back like it belongs there.

Jolly, standing a few feet behind, sees the moment, the way you’re holding Theo, the way Noah is looking at you like he’s already lost. He quietly lifts his phone.

He snaps the picture.

A perfect little family photo he fully intends to brag about later on in life.

“Now that Theo’s in bed… I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Noah drops onto your bed like he owns the place, stretching out horizontally with a dramatic groan. You roll your eyes but lie down beside him, mirroring his position.

“What’s up?” you mumble through a yawn. Then it hits you. “Wait—are you staying tonight?”

He lets out a soft laugh, eyes half‑lidded. “Do you want me to?”

You nod, small and honest. “Kinda.”

He turns his head toward you, hair falling into his eyes. “Alright, alright—stop begging. I’ll stay.” He grins, but you’re already scrambling off the bed toward your dresser.

“What’re you grabbing?” he calls after you.

“Pajamas.” You disappear into the bathroom. You change into your shorts and tank top—simple, comfortable, nothing dramatic. You fluff your hair once, mostly out of habit, then head back in.

Noah lifts his brows. “Oh look at you.”

You strike a goofy pose because that’s safer than acknowledging the way he’s looking at you.

“I’m not sleeping in jeans again,” you say, climbing into bed and nudging his legs out of your way. “That was torture.”

“So does that mean I don’t have to sleep in my sweater and pants again?” he asks, sitting up and tugging the sweater over his head. He pauses, checking your face like he’s waiting for a signal. “I can keep them on if you want.”

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, grabbing the remote and pretending to focus on the TV. You flip to something random, barely registering what’s on. Your attempt to not stare at his tattooed…hot body.

Noah slides under the blanket beside you, careful not to brush against you. He looks unsure, like he’s trying to follow rules no one actually wrote down.

You both turn onto your sides, facing each other. The glow from the TV washes over his face, but neither of you is watching. You smile. He gives you that big, toothy grin that always knocks the air out of your chest.

“What did you wanna talk about?” you whisper.

He inhales slowly, bracing himself. “I… have to leave for a little bit. In a couple days.”

Your eyebrows lift. “What do you mean?”

He runs a hand through his hair, nerves written all over him. “For tour. It’s a small tour,” he adds quickly, like he’s trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling.

“I don’t know why I didn’t see this coming,” you say with a tiny laugh, more air than sound. “I mean… it’s your job. I get it.” You nod to yourself like that’ll make the sting behave.

Noah watches you carefully, eyes soft, searching. “I know our situation is… different,” he says slowly, “but I wanted to tell you so it doesn’t feel like I’m just disappearing. I’m not. I’ll come back. Obviously.” He rambles the last part, words tripping over each other.

You nod again. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

You try to sound steady, but something wobbles underneath. You’re not together, not officially…but the thought still creeps in, would he get swept up in the attention, the noise, the girls who practically launch themselves at him? You shove the thought away before it can settle. It’s not your place to ask. Not your right to care. But it still stings.

“The only thing I ask,” you say, forcing a small smile, “is that you tell Theo before you leave.”

“Oh, yeah. I planned on it. I’m not gonna ditch my bestie.” He laughs, and the tension loosens just a little.

You flop onto your back, staring at the ceiling. You’ve gotten used to him being here. his laugh, his presence, the way the house feels lighter when he’s in it. Sure, work and Theo and Lyla will fill your days, but it’s different when Noah’s around. It’s easier.

He notices the shift instantly. His fingertips trail gently down your arm, feather‑light. “Talk to me,” he murmurs. “What’s going on in that head of yours.”

You smile, warmth where he touched you. “I’m allowed to have inside thoughts I don’t have to share.”

“Well, I’m not gonna make you say it,” he says, eyes softening. “But… I’ll miss you too.”

“Noah?” you say, turning to face him again.

“Yeah?” His voice is already drifting toward sleep.

“Try not to snore loud tonight.”

Anyway. Um. ??? What?

Okayokayokay. Firstly. Confirmations for things ppl already predicted/were obvious from the start. Those being: demon anagrams and Hyde tampering with the Camp DA files.

But besides that. Minor "complaint." As an American: why the fuck does Sho use mph. They are in Japan. That genuinely threw me for a loop. Why would he do that.

BACK TO MORE IMPORTANT THINGS.

Saburo. Saburo. Zenji called the doll Saburo, and MC didn't know why. His response was panic. That means that Zenji, and probably Saburo both remember the time change.

More PRESSINGLY. Hyde mentions, at the very end, "the witch from the castle".

The witch. From the castle. For a good 10-15 seconds I was sitting there like "what the hell is he talking about. What witch. Huh?" But since the time-thing was so fresh on my mind,

THE FLOWER WITCH. FROM LOCKBURNE CASTLE.

Subaru was gonna reveal something. And ZENJI stopped him. Did Subaru kill Zenji? I don't think so. I'm pretty sure he died from some anomalous illness or smth. So what was Subaru gonna say?

(I'm also pretty sure the Exorcist saw that she was an Am. Shit. Amanojaku? Juku? I'm going with Amanojaku. She looked into MC's soul or whatever, saw flowers, peered over the edge, went crazy, then after they left said "forgive me". Might've seen what she did.)

Oh my god, also, whoever you choose to room with? Doesn't matter. It will always say "I'm having second thoughts". That's so weird.

Also. I was hoping so bad for some Yamato reference. MOTHERFUCKER YOU KNOW FULL WELL THAT THAT WAS NOT WHAT I MEANT. YOU KNOW FULL WELL.

OH. AND. ANDANDAND. Moby + Hodge n Podge? MIGHT have been human. Heavily implied.

Also the graveyard. Do graves usually have English on them in countries that aren't primary english-speaking? Idk it just freaks me out a little any time I hear/see English in this game. Or. Anything American at all, as well. That's not meant to Be Here.

Or maybe I'm going crazy! Maybe this game includes weirdly anglocentric and sometimes-American terms for a reason. Maybe there are more English loan phrases in Japanese that I might expect. MAYBE IM MAKING A BIG DEAL OUT OF SOMETHING SMALL. I feel crazy. Whatever. Moving on.

There was also ANOTHER forest-lake in ANOTHER Hota ep. And that voice MC was originally chased by did sound like. Uhhh. Son-guy. I swear I'm paying attention, man, this is just a lot of names to internalize and I KEEP FORGETTING TO PUT THE NAMES OF THINGS IN MY NOTES.

Look. There were mentions of illusions, a fox in the Ka. Aaaaa i swear I remembered that one. Hold on. Kamishibai. There were mentions of illusions, a fox on the Kamishibai box, and a mention of the NAME Yamato, so i'm taking this as a Yamato mention.

.... But this genuinely throws so much out of wack.

Elias remembers the rewind/branching, we know that much. He was PROBABLY the one who caused it. But now Zenji and Saburo know too, as well as Hyde, so like. Maybe?? It's being kept from MC on purpose??? Maybe all the ghouls and staff know, and only she doesn't?

Also. MC. Baby. Honey. Sweetie. Do NOT give your house key to a guy who's stalker/parasite/friend/brother/whatever is a PSYCHOPATH who wants to break into your house and can steal literally anything he sees. C'mon now.

The graveyard is cool tho. Uh. I do wonder whose bodies are buried. How many gen students died there? Did any ghouls? Did they bury ppl from other houses too?

What else, what else...

"You also have Lord Kusanagi steadily supporting everyone behind the scenes." Loose circumstantial evidence for my Ep. 1 Haku theory mayhaps?

Also. When Haku told Ughhhhhhh that father guy. Kamibase or something goddammit it's 2am. When Haku told him to stop, he did. When MC originally asked about his Stigma, there was lightning. He can test for stigmas.

Mayhaps his ability doth be copying stigmas. Hmmmm. Think food. Nope. Something to chew on? Close. Food for thought. Yes. That one. Anyway.

There was more I swear.

Hidemasa. That was his name. Anyway.

Yamato Takeru was the folklore Yamato. The one "Yamato" is probably named after. (Cuz the name connections and whatnot) Yamato Nadeshiko is an entirely different term. So. Maybe not entirely Yamato mention? But it's also possible that it's intentionally using his name...

Idk. I don't speak Japanese. Idk how common of a phrase "Yamato Nadeshiko" is, but it's possible that since they didn't change it in localization, it was a purposeful play on words. Or. Play on names.

Who knows. Who cares? There's more pressing matters.

For example: why would a living bus need a conductor? /Bus driver. It's alive. It has legs. That's like. Giving your horse a ratatouille. No it's not. I guess that's kinda what a carriage is tho. YOU GET MY POINT. THE BUS IS ALREADY AN ANIMAL. WHY DO YOU NEED ANOTHER ANIMAL TO DRIVE YOUR ANIMAL TO THE ONLY PLACE IT GOES. THATS LIKE GIVING A CARRIER PIGEON A PARASITE. SOMEWHAT.

Look. Doesn't matter.

I love how Hodge and Podge simply do not trust Hyde. Also what is an online autograph signing. No they aren't. They can't. That's not a thing. Don't make that a thing.

This new time thing is gonna kill me. Hold on.

Okay. So. Hear me out here.

We know SOME people remember. We know those people include: Zenji, Saburo, Hyde, and PROBABLY Elias. So they've experienced both S1 and S2, and kept their memories of both. They remember time being taken back.

Then you have MC. She doesn't remember naming the doll Saburo, (hasn't happened yet) she didn't remember Elias' name, (he introduced himself before their original first meeting) she doesn't remember. She went back in time with everything else.

But what we DONT know, is where everyone else stands. It seems so far that the entire world went back in time. (Or select people went back in time. The point is the effect extends to everything. It's not a closed area.) The missions wouldn't be happening all over again if it wasn't. But we don't know who? It's probably Elias responsible for it.

Um. Maybe. Probably. He's like. The only suspect right now. Besides maybe Haku? Haku might be a suspect. I'm not sure. I think he has some shit going on, but I don't think time travel is his ability. It's probably something else really important.

Anyway. So far, it's 3(?) ghouls and one extra-suspicious staff member.

But why can't Zenji tell MC... Why can't she know? And why such specific people. What does Zenji have to do with Hyde or Elias? He's dead. There's a good chance neither knows he exists. If he only knew because whoever it was forgot to effect him, then why not tell people? What's his motivation to keep this a secret?

As a hardworking mechanic, you often pride yourself on your accomplishments. You—like any decent one—had many. From what you worked with to what you managed to fix, there were many things that could be considered impressive to a crowd.

None of them, however, were as impressive as the time you managed to remove Boothill’s censorship and give him back what he called: “a missing piece of his heart.”

Your dimly lit mechanic shop is cluttered with tools amongst other sharp things. Scattered about every flat surface usable is a screw, nail, wire, metal board—anything you could make use of. In the centre of the workshop is the only real space you kept clean.

Sitting in the middle of the room is a large, metallic workbench. It’s impressive, to say the least. Hooked up to an uncountable number of wires, switches and knobs decorating the sides, tools hanging from hooks, everything about it is a sight to behold.

What’s more impressive—even more magnificent—is the man sitting on top of it.

With his legs sprawled out and his head idly lolling from side to side, Boothill himself is a man to bless the eyes. The way his body worked, how each wire and sensor inside his cyborg body worked in tandem with each other to create the masterpiece that was him.

Of course, you only think like that because you’re a mechanic. You know how hard it is to put together a synesthetic body part, let alone a whole human being.

To people who don’t know the complexities of machinery, they might just think he’s a handsome cyborg. And really, they weren’t wrong. Whoever created his body, whether it was Boothill himself or another person, was quite the artist with the way they’d managed to create Boothill as a cyborg and still leave in his human charm.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Boothill grumbles, pulling you very quickly out of your thoughts. “Ya gonna continue starin’ or ya gonna actually help a guy out?” He waved at the dent in his hip, a noticeable cave to the metal plate.

“Yes, yes.” You huff. While you did find the cyborg part of Boothill impressive, his personality… not so much. He was endearing at times, but mostly he could be a pain in the ass.

A lot of the time, he’d get himself scratched and broken just to come back to you only when he’s on the brink of shutting down. Or, he’d either only come to you with the smallest, most irrelevant and easy-to-fix problems known to man.

His current state being the latter.

You make your way carefully over to Boothill, dropping to your knees beside the workbench to inspect the minimal damage done to his hip. “It’s… not even that bad.” You murmur, eyes darting up to his. “You could probably play it off as a hip dip or something.”

“Nope!” Boothill grunts, moving his metallic hand to tap against the metal of his hip. “Not happenin’ cutie. Need this body o’ mine to be in tip-top condition for my next bounty.” He grins widely, stretching his legs in front of him as he rests his arms back behind his head.

You only roll your eyes in response, already pulling out your screwdriver to replace Boothill’s so-called “broken” hip. “Whatever you say then…” You grumble, working away at the screws on the plate.

“Thanks, sweet cheeks.” Boothill hums, absentmindedly picking at the metal of his shoulder.

You wince at the nickname, your eyes shifting from where you’re working to Boothill’s face. “What’s with the nicknames…?” You say, voicing your curiosity. “We’ve known each other for what, six months now?” You raise an eyebrow at him before you continue. “Six months, and we're not even dating yet you always seem to use some form of a nickname.”

“Well,” Boothill hums, “the guy that made this good ol’ body of mine decided I would benefit from losing a thing or two. Those bein’ my ability to swear and of course my clock.”

“Your… clock?” You give him a confused look as you screw the metal back into place, finishing off his new hip.

“No, no, cutie, not an actual clock.” Boothill rolls his eyes. “My, uh, manhood, ya know?”

“Your…” You trail off. “Oh.”

He grins at you, opening his legs widely on the table. “Look if ya want, I got nothin’ to hide down there.” He gives you a wink before leaning further into your workbench.

You glance down at his crotch and see that it is, indeed, very flat. I guess what he said is true then…

You’re about to pick up your tools when you hear Boothill call for you, his name dropping from his lips. “Hey, uh, you don’t happen to have any o’ those synesthetic clocks, do ya?”

You give Boothill a blank look. While you did have a few lying around, as per a customer who was willing to pay a hefty price of seven million credits for one, you didn’t think Boothill would want one.

“Yeah…” You eventually respond. “I do.”

Boothill’s eyes widen as if he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes. “Oh, mother fudgin’!” He says before eagerly jumping off the workbench. “Please,” he begs, “ya gotta hook me up with one! Haven’t felt it in so long, ‘s like a piece of my heart’s been missing!”

You cringe at his choice of terminology before looking up at the pleading man. “Well, they cost a hefty price—”

“I’m willin’ t’pay!” Boothill cries, the same pleading tone still present in his voice. “Please, anythin’ for my clock back!”

“I—y’know what, fine.” You grumble, not having the energy to think up an argument. You wave your hand at your workbench. “Sit on the edge while I grab one. I’m just gonna assume you want the biggest size.”

You hear the faint rumble of Boothills laugh. “Oh, darlin’ you know me so well!”

You roll your eyes, pulling out a key to unlock a drawer where you kept your synesthetic… manhoods. You eye them all, cautiously taking one on the very left end before closing the drawer and going back up to Boothill.

“So.” You say, holding the synesthetic member awkwardly in front of Boothill. “Eight inches, pretty thick, the colour an’ design of the metal goes pretty well with your cyborg parts, I think it matches you.”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Boothill grins, his sharp teeth shining under the light. “Now that's what I’m talking about. Can’t wait to have my fudgin’ shift back.”

You roll your eyes at the censorship before tapping Boothill’s knee. “Spread your legs, gotta get to you if you want me to actually put this on.”

Boothill gives you a teasing look and you already know what he’s about to comment on. “If you wanted to see my new duck in action, ya could’ve jus’ asked.” He grins and you roll your eyes again. Just what you predicted.

“Shut up and spread your legs.” You say, a harsh tone evident in your voice. This time Boothill complies, his knees spreading as you once again take your place, kneeling on the floor—this time between his legs.

Slowly, you unscrew the metal panel on Boohill’s crotch area.

Once it’s fully out, you take a peek into the hole you just opened, trying to grasp what you’re working with. You puff out your cheeks, sighing as you peer into the hole between Boothill’s legs.

There’s an assortment of jumbled wires, a few switches, and—is that a remote control? With two fingers, you manage to pry your way into the cavity in Boothill’s crotch. Lithly and carefully, you pull the remote from the little clasp it was stuck in before sliding it out.

You inspect it cautiosly, taking note of how there’s only one singular switch on the flat of it. You contemplate flipping it, but then it crosses your mind that touching random things that came from inside Boothill’s body wasn’t the best idea.

Setting the remote to the side for later, you continue your work with Boothill’s new member.

Carefully, very, very carefully, you attach each wire to the base of Boothill’s new appendage, making sure everything is kept neat and tidy. With a quick glance up at Boothill, you can instantly tell he’s at least somewhat relaxed.

“Boothill.” You call, tapping the inside of his metal thigh. “I’m gonna connect the synesthesia now, so you might get a bit…” You cough awkwardly. “Aroused… But just ignore it and try not to like—y’know, cum all over my face.”

Boothill grins down at you, once again flashing you his sharp teeth. “Don’t worry, pretty boy, I’ve got some self-control.”

You nod your head, cautiously pushing the two wires together. The instant you twist them into place, you hear Boothill let out a loud groan. “Fudge, I missed this.” He murmurs, his dick twitching to life right in front of your face.

The sight, being able to watch as the new tip of his metal cock twitches and lifts, sends a shiver down your spine—one you chose to ignore as much as possible. Your hands go back to his shaft, gently pressing a screw in and Boothill lets out a loud hiss, his dick twitching in your hand.

“Darlin’ you’re teasin’ me.” He grunts before peering down at you through half-lidded eyes.

You don’t say anything, making sure to work carefully at his dick, making sure everything is functioning. As you trail your hand along the underside of his shaft, Boothill’s thigh twitches, pushing against your head and forcing your face closer to his cock.

You let out a squeal of surprise, eyes darting up to Boothill, whose face is flushed a warm pink with his teeth pulled between his lips. “Didn’t know this would affect you this much.” You murmur, a playful edge in your voice. You hate to admit it, but you’re already half-hard from being so close to Boothill and working on him in such an… intimate way.

“Shut it, darling.’” The cyborg grunts, and you laugh at the way his hands curl into fists beside him. “Haven’t felt like this in a while.”

“I can tell.” You hum, tapping his tip a few times and smirking at the loud groan that leaves his lips.

“Fudging—” Boothill grunts, his hand grabbing tightly at your shoulder as you stand up. “Such a fudgin’ tease, aren’t ya, sweetie?”

“Dunno what you're talking about Boothill.” You say, feigning innocence. Sitting up from your kneeling position you grab the remote. “Any idea what this is?” You question, showing it to Boothill.

He eyes it carefully before shrugging. “Nah, got no clue.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” You huff. “Cause I found it inside you.”

Boothill gapes at you, his jaw going slack. “Inside me!?” He roars. “And you just—just took it out!? What if I need that to live?!”

“Relax, cowboy,” you groan, his loud voice getting on your nerves slightly, “it wasn’t connected to anything, and you seem pretty fine now.”

Boothill glares at you seemingly having forgotten about his rock-hard erection standing tall against his metal abs. “Give it here.” He says, making a ‘give’ motion with his fingers. He practically snatches it from your hand the instant you’re within arm's reach, his hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer as he grabs at the remote. “Hmm…” He hums, inspecting it in his hands. Slowly, he slides the panel down, revealing two short words that make the two of you gasp.

“Censorship… Control.” Boothill reads, and you instantly snatch the remote into your hands.

“Hey!” Boothill yells! “Wait a darn minute—I need that!”

“No,” you respond flatly, “you don’t. Whoever built in that censorship must’ve done it for a reason—”

“Yeah!” Boothill grunts. “To annoy the fudge outa me!” He growls again, desperately trying to reach for the remote again. “Oh, fudgin’ give it! What’ll it take for you to give me the darn thing?!”

You grin.

Finally, he asked.

“I think a good enough payment would be to test out this new dick of yours.”

Boothill’s expression turns from anger and annoyance to a smirk in the blink of an eye. His hands are no longer grabbing at the remote, and instead resting on your waist. “Oh?” He coos. “Didn’t know you liked me that much.” He smirks, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “But a test drive would be so much more fun if I had my swearin’ back. Think of all the dirty lil’ things I could say to you, hm?”

Your face flushes as you feel Boothill’s cool breath fan over your ear. “I bet you'd really like if I turned it off, be able to swear to your heart’s content” You do your best to stand your ground, ignoring the blood that rushes to your cock and the way your pants grow tight. “But I think I can think of a better way to put your mouth to use.”

Boothill growls lowly, his grip moving from your waist to your ass to give it a harsh squeeze. “Turn it off and I might just show you what this mouth of mine is capable of.”

“Hmph.” You grunt. “Fine. Let's see how dirty this mouth of yours can get, Boothill." You whisper, your warm breath fanning over his chest. With that, you’re flicking his censorship off, once again leaving Boothill free to say whatever he wants.

“Atta boy.” He growls.

Boothill’s eyes narrow as you flick the remote, effectively ending his censorship. Your face flushes, watching his lips pull into a wide grin as he grips your ass, tugging down your pants and leaving them dropped at your ankles. “Don’t worry whore, I’ll show you just how good I am.” Boothill growls, his voice dropping an octave. “I’ll have you screaming my name while you’re wrapped ‘round my cock.”

You don’t say anything, only moving to press your face further into his neck.

“I’ll tell you every dirty word, every filthy thought that crosses my mind while I pound into your tight fuckin’ hole.” Boothill groans, starting to tug down your boxers too.

And suddenly, like he only now could process the extent that he could speak, Boothill is tugging you away from him only to press his lips harshly into you, murmuring into the kiss as he does. “You little slut, I’m gonna fuck you till you’re stuffed fuckin’ full of my dick. You’ll be drenched in your own cum, worshiping my cock, begging for more.” He lets out a loud groan, pulling away. “And don’t think you can fuckin’ hide, ‘cause I’ll take you right here an’ now, on your stupid workbench.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face, watching the sight of your absolute arousal dripping down your dick.

“Look at you, so fuckin’ hard.” He wraps his palm around your cock, giving it a sharp tug before pulling his hand away only to return with a sharp slap against your tip. “Bet you’d pull your pants down for anyone on the street, like a common whore.”

You whine, knees buckling at the slap. You collapse onto Boothill’s chest, letting out a plethora of pathetic sounds as you do.

“Aww.” Boothill coos, lifting your chin to face him. “This weak already?”

He grips your body, getting off your workbench only to lay you on top of it. You lay flat on your tummy, with you face pressed into the thin padding of the workbench.

“You’re gonna be a good boy now, an’ take what I give you, ‘kay?” Boothil says, bending your knees to push your ass into the air. His finger teases your puckered hole, tracing your rim, but never pushing anything in,

“Boothill.” You whine. “Put it in already!”

“What’d I say?” Boothill growls, bringing down a hand against your ass in a harsh spank. “That you’re gonna take what?”

“T-Take what you give me!” You whine, pressing your face into the cushion in embarrassment.

You can’t believe what’s currently happening. Here you are, face down and your ass in the air as Boothill eases a finger into your tight hole, occasionally giving mean spanks against your balls and ass.

Eventually, Boothill presses his first finger in. The feeling makes you gasp out, your back arching against the workbench. His fingers are so thick. You whine out, instinctively rocking your hips against his fingers.

“That’s it.” Boothill praises, bringing a hand to rub your back gently. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, like a good lil’ slut.” He presses in another finger, beginning to match the pace of your hips as he curls them.

He thrusts them in and out, and in and out until you’re seeing stars. Your eyes are rolled back, drool slipping from your lips as you moan and writhe against Boothill’s hand. He curls his fingers, easily finding your prostate and laughing cruelly when your dick twitches.

“Fuck, you’re so easy.” He moans, watching you fuck against his fingers. Slowly, he grabs his new metal dick, dragging the cool tip across the crack of your ass. You whine, your eyes squeezing shut at the cold sensation.

“Boothill!” You moan out. “D-Don’t stop, I—I’m so close!”

“Oh?” He questions. “And who told you that you had any right to tell me what to do?”

Just like that, he’s pulling his fingers away from you. You’re a whining, crying mess at that. Sobbing about how you needed his fingers, his dick, his anything to make you come. “Please!” You beg. “Need t’cum so badly!”

“Really?” Boothill smirks. “If that’s really what you want…” He tugs you off the workbench, watching you fall to the floor into a pathetic heap. “Then beg me for it.”

You nod eagerly, instantly getting on your knees and kissing against Boothill’s hard cock. The rough concrete of the floor is painful against your bare knees, but you can make due.

You’re quick to take his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the cool metal before pressing your lips slightly lower. Your tongue presses down, forced to drag along his underside the more you take him in.

You blink up at Boothill, tears welling in your eyes as you plead with him to help you. Help you. Use you. It didn’t matter.

Boothill lets out a tsk before grabbing your hair harshly. “What happened to my smart mechanic I knew so well? When’d he get replaced by this cock-hungry bitch who can’t even suck dick to save his life?”

At that, Boothill’s pressing your face all the way down. Your nose pokes at the cold metal of his pelvis before he’s pulling you back and thrusting his dick deep down your throat. He sets a quick pace, fucking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a fleshlight for him to use and throw away at his disposal.

Your jaw hangs slack, tongue forcefully dragging along the metal of his cock. Drool slips from your lips but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when your mouth is being stuffed so full. Boothill’s pace quickens and you moan weakly around his cock, feeling something poke at your own.

From what you manage to see through the corner of your eye, Boothill is stepping on your dick, rubbing the sole of his dirty shoe against your tip as it leaks precum all over the rough concrete. The feeling of his shoe on your dick, his cock stuffing your mouth—it’s all enough to send you over the edge.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your cock twitching pathetically under Boothill’s shoe as you shoot ropes of cum from your tip. Some of it sticks to the bottom of his shoe, and some squirts farther. Boothill laughs, rubbing his shoe harder into your dick, watching you whine around his cock.

“C’mon slut, you can take it. This is the payment you wanted, so don’t go crying on me now.”

“I am surprised. What the hell are you doing out here in this storm, man? You’re drenched! Did you fucking bike here or something?”

“Nope, I drove, of course,” Eddie explains, waving a hand at the van parked in Steve’s driveway. “But I spent the last twenty minutes pacing in the rain so there’s that.”

Steve sputters. “Why?” 

“It helps clear my head,” Eddie says with a shrug, like that makes perfect sense. It doesn’t. 

“And you decided to do it in front of my house because—” Steve trails off, hoping Eddie will elaborate. 

“Convenience,” Eddie says, which doesn’t actually explain anything. Then he bites his lip nervously. “You see, Stevie, I have something to tell you.” 

Steve tears his eyes away from Eddie’s pink lips, narrowing them at him. “And you couldn’t, I don’t know, call me?” 

Eddie shakes his head, sending droplets of water flying, hitting Steve’s face. “It’s not something I wanted to say over the phone,” he admits, scruffing his feet against the floor, deliberately not meeting Steve's gaze.

Steve’s eyes dart to the bat again. He tenses up, fear bubbling up inside him. “Oh shit, are you seeing things? Is it Vecna again? Fuck, it’s only been a few months, it was supposed to be fucking over. Christ, do we need to call a code red? Do we—”

“Steve, hey, breathe,” Eddie cuts in, stepping into the house, trailing water all over Steve’s entryway, the wind swinging the door shut behind him. He grabs Steve’s shoulders, digging his thumbs into his collarbones to get his attention. “It’s not Vecna, it’s not the Upside Down, everything’s fine. Stevie, look at me.”

Steve does, hazy eyes taking a moment to focus on Eddie— his limp soaked hair, his drenched clothes, his nose and cheeks both red from the cold. 

“You look like a wet rat,” Steve says, swallowing a few times to get rid of the lump that lodged itself in his throat as he spiraled. 

Eddie huffs out a snort. “I know,” he says, his nose scrunching up in a way that makes Steve want to kiss it. “Not a particularly attractive look, which isn’t ideal considering what I’m here to do.”

Steve disagrees, he finds Eddie plenty attractive like this, but he lets the comment slide to ask, “And what’s that?”

Eddie bites his lip. “Please don’t freak out on me again.” 

“I thought you said it wasn’t the Upside Down—” Steve says, raising his eyebrow. 

“It’s not, it’s— fuck, it’s nothing. I’m just being dramatic. You’re a good guy, you’re not gonna freak out even if you don’t—” He trails off, gesturing vaguely. 

“Even if I don’t what?”

Eddie lets out a puff of air. “Even if you don’t like me back,” he says and Steve’s heart stutters in his chest. “‘Cause what I came here to do— the reason why I was pacing in the rain, probably catching pneumonia or something— was to ask you out. On a date. With me.”

Steve’s stomach flip flops. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees lightning flash in the distance. “Right now?” He asks, glancing at the window as thunder follows, the rain refusing to let up even for a minute. “Because I’d love to, Eds, but I really don’t want to go out in a storm—”

Eddie makes a pained expression. “No, sweetheart, not right— Wait.” He blinks as Steve’s words register. “‘You'd love to’?” He asks, his voice an octave higher. 

Steve nods, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie mutters. His hands, which up to this point were still on Steve’s shoulders, fall to his sides as he stands there, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“What? You thought I’d say no?” Steve asks, tilting his head. “That I’d freak out?” 

Eddie shrugs. "I just thought that if you liked me too, you would’ve asked me out already!”

“I thought about it,” he says, eliciting a squeal from Eddie. “But Eds, I’ve only ever been in one relationship and I fucked it up. I didn’t want to do the same with you.” 

“Oh,” Eddie says softly, lips pursing as he thinks over something. “Well, I’ve never been in a relationship so technically I haven’t fucked up any so maybe our odds will balance each other out, y’know?” 

That doesn’t sound right to Steve, but Eddie is grinning at him and he just asked him out on a date, and Steve can’t bring himself to care about anything else.

“Okay,” he agrees, unable to stop himself from grinning too. “Then yeah, I’d love to go on a date with you, Eddie.” 

Flustered but obviously pleased, Eddie plays with his hair, water dripping from the wet curls. 

“Can I ask you something too?”

“You just did,” Eddie says with a smirk. When Steve half-heartedly rolls his eyes, he adds, “But yeah, I’ll allow it.” 

“What made you do this right now in the middle of a storm?” He asks, an amused tilt to his voice. 

“Well, I was talking to our favorite redhead on the phone, just shooting the shit, y’know? So after like, the third time I said, um, that I missed you, she told me I was pathetic and that I should drive over here and ask you out already so—” Eddie shrugs, “—I did. I don’t think she expected me to just hang up on her and take off in the middle of the storm, and honestly neither did I, not until I was doing it.”

Steve shakes his head with a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, “but hey, I was missing you too, y’know.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, giddy and disbelieving at the same time. 

“Of course, Eds.” 

Eddie giggles, high-pitched and cute. “Well, hopefully you won’t miss me too much now.” He glances at the window, lips pursed. “Since I should probably head back.” 

Steve’s eyebrows knit in a frown. “No way, you’re not going out in this rain again,” he says, “you can stay here and I’ll let you borrow something to wear.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, yielding all too easily.

Steve smirks triumphantly. “Good, now let’s get you out of those clothes.” 

Eddie lets out a squeak, clutching his chest. “Harrington! At least buy me dinner first!”

“Hey, you asked me out, so you are buying me dinner,” Steve says, wagging his finger in Eddie’s face, who pretends to try to bite it off. “Right now I’m just making sure you don’t get hypothermia.”

“How chivalrous of you, sweetheart,” Eddie says, eyelashes fluttering, a pretty pink blush covering his cheeks. 

Steve hates to leave the sight of a flustered Eddie, but since he arrived his shivering has gotten worse and Steve is worried he’s actually going to catch something. 

“Wait here,” he says, heading upstairs to his room. There, he grabs some old sweatpants, a cozy green sweater he’d love to see Eddie in and a pair of fuzzy socks Robin got him for his birthday last year. Fighting a blush, he also grabs some boxers. Finally, he stops by the bathroom to grab a towel so Eddie can dry his hair. 

He goes back downstairs where he follows the water path and finds Eddie, not in the entryway but in the living room, going through the Harringtons’ VHS collection.

“My, my, my, Stevie! What’s this?” He asks when he sees Steve, holding up a tape to him with a playful smirk. 

Steve recognizes it as one of the Star Wars movies— not the one he likes, with the teddies. 

“Oh, that’s Henderson’s,” Steve says, dumping the clothes on the couch and joining Eddie. “He must’ve left it here.”

“‘Left it here’, uh huh,” Eddie says, doing air quotes with his fingers. “Just admit you like it. That you’re a nerd!” 

Steve smirks. “No, but I like you, nerd,” he says, cupping Eddie’s cheeks with his hands and tilting his head forward so he can press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. 

When he pulls back, Eddie is staring at him with wide eyes, his face bright red.

“Cute,” Steve says, out loud this time, which only makes Eddie blush even harder. 

“Jesus H. Christ, if hypothermia doesn’t kill me, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a shaky laugh, tugging some hair in front of his face, “you might.”

“If you die before you can take me on a date,” Steve says, hands on his hips, “I will.”

Eddie sniggers. “Not even death could keep me from taking you out, Stevie! I would crawl out of hell just to have dinner with you! I would brave one thousand storms!” 

Steve laughs, interrupting Eddie’s dramatics and steering him towards the downstairs bathroom, picking up the clothes on the way. “Okay, you weirdo, come on.” 

Eddie doesn’t put up any more resistance and finally changes into Steve’s clothes. Afterwards, they watch the movie that Henderson may or may not have left behind and they cuddle— to warm Eddie up, of course.