*le wave* Heyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

So...what's up?

Thank you for your comments!

Chapter VII – Spider Dance

Frisk ended up doing pretty well for their first meet. Even though they got disqualified in backstroke for doing something wrong in their flip turn, they didn't get disqualified for their freestyle, and placed sixth in bronze league. You congratulated them, after all, it is hard to place in bronze at a first meet. They're one place away from earning a ribbon.

The day after the meet, your editor commented on your article. She's actually pro-monster too, much to your relief. You're happy about that; after all, if her opinion on the monsters had been more negative, then there'd have been a good chance that you would have lost your job. Now, you're sitting on your couch. You had finished coaching practice a few hours earlier, and you were bored now. Your daily article has already been written and submitted to your editor. You wrote about your experience in the Underground, since there were a lot of questions about it on your last article. People seemed satisfied with your description of it.

Not only that, but Alphys had sent you a text earlier saying that a trial date had been set for the douchebag who attacked Alphys, and that she wanted you to come testify. It was currently June, and his trial was set to be in November, quite a few months away. You had it written down, and you had requested that the bookstore-the one where you met Alphys-give you copies of the security feed to back up your case. You're pretty sure that Alphys will win, but then again, justice doesn't always prevail like it should. In any case, you're ready to go when the time comes.

Speaking of November, which is six months away, that's the month of the presidential election. You've decided to start researching candidates soon, if you have the time. It seems like this election is going to be pretty...heated. You're curious as to which will win. From what you've seen on the news, the democratic candidate had been pro-monster, with monsters having the same rights as humans, republican pro-monster as well, but with extremely limited rights, and then there was a third-party candidate who was getting extremely popular now, and he believed that war should be declared on the monsters, and that all should be slaughtered. You shiver, hoping that won't be the case.

You decide to change you train of thoughts. Your phone buzzes, and you see that Quinn has shot you a text.

The "platonic" date between Burgerpants and Quinn is tomorrow, and you've been helping Burgerpants out. He's pretty nervous, but you've been encouraging him and helping him get his mind off of it. Quinn hasn't been any better; he keeps sending you texts saying he's having second thoughts, which you know are just a result of him being nervous. You keep reassuring him over text, but you don't think it's helping him very much. You know everything will work out, these two just have to get over their fear, and then they'll more than likely hit it off.

Quinn the Nice Cream Guy :-): I don't think I can do this!
You: Yes you can! Don't worry, he's nervous too! You guys will be fine!

You sigh, glancing at the paused screen of Skyrim to type your response. You had just finished off a dragon, and you were in the midst of receiving another dragon soul. Yay you. Honestly, you hated killing dragons in Skyrim. They were so pretty, and strong, and you didn't like the fact that you could only Shout by obtaining their Souls.

That makes you wonder how monsters cope with humans, and their sick interpretations of monsters before the monsters emerged. How were the wizards able to sway humanity's point of view on the monsters and their culture after they had locked monsterkind away? They must have told their children stories about monsters and how they were evil, written the wrong facts down in the books, and wiped away every hint of monsters being kind and peaceful off of the face of the earth. You're kind of mad that the wizards were able to do it.

And that no one else stood up for the monsters at the time. Were there rebel groups who were against the wizard's intentions back then? Or were all humans just that shitty?

You sigh, biting your lip. You're not even sure if you want to know, honestly. But that was in the past, and you have today and the future to think about. Your phone pings, letting you know that you have a new email. You swipe the screen to see that Toriel has emailed you:

Dear (Y/N),
Good afternoon! This is Toriel, and Frisk brought up the bullying issue. They have informed me that you told them you would handle the issue, and they have given me a list of names-

The message lists a few names, and you recognize a few. You frown; you had expected better from these kids.

Thank you for offering to take care of this issue; Frisk has not brought it up with us before. Frisk loves you as their coach!

One more thing: we'd like to invite you over to dinner on Thursday night at five o' clock. Everyone will be there, and Alphys and Undyne wanted you to come for dinner as well as the anime marathon that will follow afterwards. I hope you will be able to join us!

Thank you again, Miss (L/N). You are truly a phenomenal woman!

Sincerely,
Toriel

That last sentence made your cheek the tiniest bit warm. You don't hear that every day. You copy the list of names, then send an email to your coach:

Hey, coach! Toriel sent me an email with the list of names of kids who are picking on Frisk. I'll take care of them next practice, I just wanted to touch base with you in order to make sure these kids learn their lesson. : ) Thank you!

You hit send, and then you turned off your phone. Another anime marathon? You're definitely down. Your phone buzzes yet again.

Message from Undyne the Undying ┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘: Yo punk, we're having another anime night. Toriel should have sent you a message earlier, but idk if you got it or not so heres another one
You: Toriel sent me the info. I'll be there. : )
Undyne: AW FUCK YES ╰(◡‿◡✿╰)

You chuckle, setting you phone aside. That means you'll have to get your article ready for tomorrow and submit it earlier. You sigh, then turn back to your paused game of Skyrim.

Hm. Looks like you have a Dragon Soul to absorb and an article to write.

After a few more minutes of slaying bandits, and defeating enemies on Skyrim, you decide you should start tomorrow's article.

But, you're at a loss on what to write for your article.

You think about doing something pro-monster. But what? You've written about your journey Underground, the lunch with monsters, and the CORE and its expansion. What else could you do?

You're stuck in a bubble of writer's block as you try to come up with something. You surf through the internet trying to get a general idea of what the United States, as a whole, thinks about monsterkind. You mostly see articles on monster magic, and their Souls, why monsters aren't dangerous, why they should be forced back Underground...you sigh.

Wait...what if you took the anti-monster activists' point of view on things and...twist it to make it pro-monster? Maybe you could write it, let Burgerpants read it, then ask his opinion of it. You nodded, there weren't a whole lot of articles on that.

So, you dig into why anti-monster activists don't want monsters to have rights, be above ground, or be alive, and then you write it down. After that's finished, and you've cited all of the sources, you begin reasoning with the main points you found, explaining why it's wrong in an opinionated, rational manner. You might be able to sway some people's mind. But first, you'll get Burgerpants' opinion, then ask your editor what she thinks.

A few more minutes, and you have your article ready. You call up BP.

"What's up?" He asks when he picks up.

"Nothing much. I was wondering if you could read an article that I wrote and give me your opinion on them." You say, printing out a copy of your article, then walking over to your printer.

"Yeah. I'll be over in a second." He says.

"I'll be waiting." You respond, taking out the finished copy and reading over it. You hang up, then set your phone down onto the desk. Burgerpants barges in a few seconds later.

"What's this one about?" He asks, immediately going over to your couch. You hand him your article.

"I'm trying to sway some people's minds about monsters, so I decided to try my hand at persuasive writing." You respond, sitting on the longer part of your leather couch, curling up in a ball as you wait for him to finish reading.

"It's good. I like how you backed up your reasons." He nods, handing it back to you. "I mean, you're bound to offend someone, but it's still good."

You shrug, throwing it back on your desk. "Thank you. I'm glad to here that. If people get offended, then that's their problem, not mine." You say. Burgerpants nods.

"Good point." He goes silent for a minute, and his tail absent-mindedly swooshes back and forth. You know he's thinking about the date.

"You're going to be fine tomorrow, BP." You say, turning back towards him.

"I don't know. What if I freeze up? Or royally fuck up? I don't know if-"

You're seriously getting sick of him and Quinn thinking they can't do this. It's beginning to piss you off. "Burgerpants. Listen. I know you're worried about this, but there's really no need to psyche yourself up like this. You have nothing to worry about! Quinn is nervous too, and he keeps telling me that he's having second thoughts. You're going to be fine. You both will. I'll be there to help reconcile if necessary, and I'm about ninety-nine-point nine repeating percent sure you two will hit it off. I feel it in my bones, BP, tomorrow is going to be great! And, if you don't think so, then go on a-fucking-head and be a downer. You'll see tomorrow! I'm telling you!" You're on the verge of yelling, so you stand, then walk to your fridge. You grab you and BP something to drink, then toss him his can.

"Thanks." He mutters.

"YOU'RE FUCKING WELCOME!" You yell, feeling the need to release some of your emotions.

He pops open the tab thing, then takes a swig. You sit down next to him, then drink yours too. You two sit in companionable silence for a while.

"Guess I should get going." He says, getting up.

"Quit being so hard on yourself! You really deserve a chance like this, BP!" You say, setting your drink aside and standing up.

"Okay, okay." He says with a roll of his eyes. You snort. "I'm all sunshine and rainbows now."

"You'd better be." You murmur.

He walks over to your door. "Your article was good though."

"Thank you. Thank you for coming over to read my bullshit." You say.

He chuckles, stepping outside. "Anytime, (L/N). Thanks again." He says, waving his tail as he turns to walk back to his apartment.

"Yeah. See you!" You say as he shuts his door. Gently closing the door, you press your back against it.

Burgerpants really was too hard on himself, you think as you continue to send your article to your editor, adding a blurb explaining why it was early underneath the attachment. After you hit send, you lay your head down on the desk in front of your laptop.

You've been consumed with boredom for a while. Normally, when you had time to kill like this, you'd play video games or go for another swim. You'd already done both, and you were getting more restless by the minute. You stood, walking into your room.

Boredom gnawed on your brain and consumed you. You groaned, flopping onto your bed, burying your head into your pillow. You strained your brain to come up with something to do of relative interest. The silence in your apartment was deafening, and you were beginning to miss BP's company, shitty as it could be at times.

With no other options seeming appealing, you decide to take a walk. It would help clear your head, and it was something to do!

You pulled on a shirt of your choosing, along with a pair of shorts, and then you shoved your feet into your shirts, and then you were off after you grabbed your purse. You would walk down to the park, maybe to the pool, and then go-

Your thoughts were rudely interrupted when you accidentally missed a step, and you shrieked as gravity betrayed you once again and you tumbled forward, your arms splayed out in front of you. Gravity was merciless as it pulled you to the earth.

You groaned when your hands made contact with the ground, and your entire body smashed into the floor.

"Fucking hell!" You curse, trying to sit up. Pain shoots up through your wrists as you shifted your weight to them. When you were on your knees, you examined the damage.

Nothing was broken, thank the stars above. Your forearms and knees would definitely bruise, though. Another groan escaped you as you picked yourself back up. You hear someone's door opening from above.

"Wha-(L/N)? Did you just...fall down the stairs?" Burgerpants asks.

"Yes!" You say, leaning on the handrail for support.

"Are you okay?" He asks, but you can tell from the way his voice is cracking that he's about to have a full-blown laugh attack.

"Yep, just frigging peachy!" You respond, crossing your arms.

He can't hold it back anymore and busts, his laughter echoing off the ceiling of the building. You scowl, then flip him off, which only makes him laugh harder. You stomp away as his stupid laughter continues, your feet guiding you to the pool. Eh, you'll just stop by for a minute, then you'll walk back home. You rub your arms where they collided with the floor. Just what you need. More bruises. Another sigh escapes you as you continue along the sidewalk, hands folding across your chest.

Stars, you hate gravity with all of your Soul. Apparently, the feeling's mutual.

The pool is pretty crowded when you arrive; there are children and teenagers milling about the deck, shallow, and deep end. You're glad you opted not to bring your swim gear, since the pool's so crowded. As good as swimming was at helping clear your mind, it was hard to do it when twelve-year-olds were crossing your lane, and you had to jerk your mind out of the zone much too forcefully, then you had to come to a complete stop in order not to hit the little shit.

You sighed, then you turn back, deciding to head back home. How the other coaches deal with their kids will be always remain a mystery to you. The eleven-and-twelves were a handful, but in a good way. At least they were nice to you and did what you asked.

Random thoughts fill your mind as you continue down the sidewalk. You pass by the park, and you arrive at a small café called Muffet's. The walls are painted a light shade of lavender, and about two-thirds of the wall are made of glass which slopes into a gentle arch that runs into the ceiling. The word "Muffet's" is printed in a neon-pink light-up letter at the top of the building, and there's a little walkway with columns supporting a mini-roof. The columns themselves are decorated with intricate carves of spiders. You stop at the front, studying the unique architecture of the building.

You're beginning craving a cup of coffee, even though it's noon. Eh, whatever, coffee is coffee, and it doesn't matter when you drink it as long as you have some. Plus, those signs advertising Muffet's signature donuts were helping sway your mind, with the rich texture that was heavily emphasized by the enlargement of the donut.

Your mind intent on buying a coffee and a spider donut, you push the doors open. A little bell rings above your head, announcing your presence to the café. Some heads swivel to meet your gaze, some of which...are not heads, but monster equivalents of one. There are a few humans in here, and some of them aren't even bothered by your scar, which is mainly due to the fact that there's an entire network of spider webs that interconnect within each other, dozens of monster spiders climbing from web to web, occasionally dropping down on a thin string of delicate spider silk shining with magic to serve a customer. You end up joining the people who are staring at the web. How long did it take for them to create that?! It's amazing!

Eventually, you are able to tear your eyes away when an anthropomorphic spider woman walks out from the back. Her hair is pitch black, and is tied up into two buns, her skin a dark lavender, all five of her eyes dark. She has six arms, two of which are holding what you assume are the customer's orders. She's outfitted in a cute red dress that matches her purple skin. Amazed, you approach the counter, looking down at the various sweets and treats inside.

"Good afternoon, dearie. Welcome! I am Muffet, the owner of this establishment. And you are?"

"I'm (Y/N) (L/N)!" You reply, examining the menu.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, dear. I've not seen you here before. What can I help you with?" She asked.

You ordered your favorite kind of coffee along with a (f/f) spider donut. Muffet brews your coffee while a small team of spiders bag your donut. You giggle; they're so small! And they don't look like regular spiders, either. These are too cute! The team places your bagged donut onto the counter, and one waves its legs at you. You laugh a little, waving back at it, and the team turns to meet Muffet, who has your cup of coffee in a to-go cup. You thank her, then pay for your Items.

"Thank you, (Y/N)! Do come back!" Muffet says as her team of spiders wave at you with their legs. You wave back with a smile on your face.

"This looks great! Count on it!" You reply, turning towards the table filled with half-and-half, sugar, cinnamon, ginger, honey, and other extras. You prepare your beverage to your liking, then you turn towards the exit and pull open a door.

You sip your drink throughout your walk home. It's hot, but not too hot, and it's crafted perfectly. Why is monster food so much better than human food?! It must be magic. Shit, magic makes everything better. The café is only a six-minute walk or so away from your apartment. You'll definitely remember that for future reference. The rest of the walk home is quiet, filled only with your occasional rambling thought.

When you approach your apartment, you climb up the stairs a bit more carefully this time, only for your toes to hit the edge of the first step, causing you to stumble. You catch yourself before you fall this time. Well, you were closer that time. Oh well. You find your keys in your purse, and dig them out before jamming them in the lock, twisting them until you hear a click. You kick the door open, the shut it closed with your foot after yanking the keys out from the lock.

You drop your cup and the unopened bag onto the dining room table, then set your purse strap on the hook beside the door.

The donut is no worse than the coffee. It's sweet, but it's not too sweet as to factor out the delicious flavor of (f/f) mixed with magic. You don't think you'll ever get over the fact that you're eating magic. That's insane! Magic can be digested?! Wait, does that mean you absorb it?! Or your Soul absorbs it?! If so, then does that mean it would contribute to you own supply of magic?

You silenced your growing onslaught of questions; after all, you were meeting the monsters for dinner tomorrow. You could indulge your curiosity then. You glanced at the clock. It was still only around two or so. You walked over to your couch, sitting down and eyeing your Xbox controller. You'd forgotten to put it on its charger before you left. Well, then again, it hadn't been sitting out for long, so the batteries couldn't have been too drained. You press the Xbox icon that's on the top center of the controller, and it lights up. You hear your Xbox beep in turn, its icon lighting up as well. You turn your TV on, bending over at an awkward angle to reach it. When you click it on, though, it displays the Xbox home screen. You restart Skyrim and get back to exploring Solitude.

After a few hours of Skyrim, you eventually make good progress when your phone rings. You rub your sore eyes, pausing the game and setting the controller aside, stumbling past the heap of pillows you had kicked onto the floor earlier, and eventually making your way to the phone. You look at the caller ID. It's a random number. You groan and declined it, pissed that you had to get up for that. You bring your phone back with you when you go to sit down.

You go to the System category, and then select Quicksave before you turn your TV off, walking over to the control's charging station and setting yours down on the free slot. You only have two controllers, and the one you had just been using had been a gift from a friend. It had your favorite skin pattern on it, and you loved it to death and all the way back.

Good, you killed about four hours. You make a small dinner for yourself, sitting cross-legged on your couch with your dish in hand. You watch a little bit of the news, but nothing has really changed other than the fact that people are still debating on whether or not they want the CORE to expand. After dinner, you click it off, then you wash your dishes and load them into the dishwasher.

You shower, then you curl up in your favorite pajamas watching an anime you haven't started yet until you decide you should probably sleep.

...But one more episode can't hurt, right?

You were wrong. One more episode turned into another season, which led to you thinking you could handle another one, that you could just double up on caffeine tomorrow.

But tomorrow was practice, the lunch with Burgerpants and Quinn, and dinner with the monsters. You hum in thought, torn between sleep and bad decisions. Sleep. More anime.

You didn't get to finish your thought as the warm embrace of drowsiness took over your form, beckoning you to a dreamless slumber.

Buzz

Buzz

Hm? What was that? Eh, probably just someone texting you. You shrug it off, burying your face in your precious pillow.

Buzz

They need to stop texting you. You want sleep. Not your social life. Sleep. Stars, you're so warm!

Buzz

NO.

Buzz

You groan, opening one eye. Sunlight is spilling through your window, causing you to hiss. Stupid light, thinking it can intrude your pleasant dark world-

Buzz

It...sounds like your phone. You sit up, your hair in a tangled mess. You brush it aside, and then you open your heavy eyelids reluctantly. Turning to your nightstand, you see the screen of your phone lighting up, a few notifications on there. Picking it up, you see what the big deal is.

Text from Head Coach: Are you going to be here today? It's fine if you need a day off, just unusual for you. You feeling okay?
Dustin: where r uuuu
Toriel: Frisk told me you were not at their practice session today. They wanted me to ask you if you were alright.
Dustin: i dont wanna coach 2 lanes 2day
Head Coach: …(Y/N)?
Dustin: anser me (l/n) or im gonna break into ur apartment after practice

You half slap your forehead, half facepalm, the former from not remembering to set your alarm last night, and the other at Dustin's atrocious spelling.

You quickly shoot a reply to them:

You to Head Coach: Hey! I'm okay, and I'm really sorry I missed practice! : ( I went to bed late and forgot to set my alarm! Sorry again : /
You to Dustin: You're not allowed to break into my apartment if you can't spell preschool and third grade words right.
You to Toriel: I'm okay, I just forgot to set my alarm last night. Tell them I'm sorry : (

You know Coach wouldn't be mad at you. He understood that shit happened sometime. You're pretty sure Dustin will get over it, and Frisk and Toriel probably won't mind. Although, Frisk might be a little disappointed.

You shake your head, checking the time. It's almost noon.

...oh no.

You jump out of bed, scrambling to your bathroom. No, you already missed practice, you can't miss the lunch thing too! You don't have time to shower, so you change your outfit to a fresher one, then try your best to tame your stupid (h/c) hair. It's not working very well, but eh, you've been seen in worse condition. You grab all of your belongings needed for this trip before you're off.

Thankfully, neither monster is there when you arrive at Grillby's. You glance around, trying to think of a good spot for the three of you. Hm, you could grab a booth for the three of you, if you could sit on the outside, or maybe a table would work better...?

Eventually, you decide to sit at the booth. You could sit next to BP, and still see and gesture to Quinn if he froze up. Plus, if everything went according to plan, you'd be able to leave quickly and quietly.

You slide into seat, thinking BP might be more comfortable if he could sit next to you.. You shoot Burgerpants and Quinn a text, and then you're left in silence.

After a while, another living flame walks out from the back room, then he spots you and walks over. You're immediately entranced; another one?! Oh, this must be Grillby, Fuku's father.

"Good afternoon, miss. What may I start you with?" He asks, his voice quiet and serious. His eyes are just like Fuku's, little black diamonds. His flames are a bright orange.

You decide to try a new drink this time. "Good afternoon! May I try the Elder Echoflower, please?" You ask, leafing through the menu.

"Of course." He turns away and walks behind the bar, beginning to collect a glass, and a few ingredients, one of which is glowing blue.

Like an Echoflower. You grin, remembering the pretty blue flower you whispered to in Waterfall. You watch as his flaming hands go to work, mixing, stirring, and pouring with practiced ease. While he's making your drink, you decide on what you want.

"(Y/N)?" You turn to see Quinn standing there, dressed in a green shirt and black shorts. You smile, then gesture to the seat in front of you. His ears are straight and completely rigid.

"Hey, Quinn!" You greet as he settles in across from you.

"H-hey, (Y/N)." He responds, his paws tapping away nervously at the tabletop. He props his chin up with his other paw.

"You're going to be fine." You whisper, crossing your arms and resting them on the table.

He only sighs in response, and you think he's fidgeting with the hem of your shirt under the table. You two wait in silence for a while longer when Grillby sets your drink down in front of you.

It reminds you of an Echoflower, as it should. It's radiating a soft blue color, and there are extremely thin layers of white in between some of the blue. It's a pretty drink. You don't want to mess it up now. Aw...

"This looks great, Grillby! Thank you!" You giggle when he pops a little blue umbrella in it, then blurt: "You just made it better!" His flames crackle and grow a little bit lighter as he bows his head, then turns to Quinn.

"Good afternoon, Quinn. What could I get you started with?" The flame asks, intertwining his hands together.

"I'm...waiting for someone." He says, and on cue, Burgerpants stomps in, door shutting behind him. You try not to giggle as you watch him stomp over to you. Grillby steps to the side, and you get up, the gesture for your irritated and nervous friend to go in before you. He obeys without question, and you slide in next to your neighbor.

"Hey, BP!" You greet, taking hold of your drink by its curved handle and pulling it towards you. "What's up?"

You can tell he's about to freeze up. "N-nothing much."

"What can I get you two gentlebeauties to drink?" Grillby asks, stepping back in front of the table.

"I'll get whatever she got." Burgerpants mutters, gesturing to you.

"I'll take an ice water, with lemon please." Quinn says. Grillby nods.

"Very well. I will back momentarily." Grillby replies, turning and striding away.

You focus back on the two monsters, both awkwardly fidgeting.

"Alright, you two," you begin, "I think you both know why I've invited you here." Your response is two quick nods. "And I know you're both way too nervous about this. So, allow me to start you two off. I've been told you both hate Mettaton."

More nods. "Hm...why is that?" You prompt, folding your hands together and leaning your chin in them.

"He's a narcissistic, self-obsessed robot who puts himself before others!" Quinn is the first to say. For a second, he looks a little embarrassed at his little outburst, Burgerpants looks up at him with a surprised, and admiring gaze. You chuckle.

"How about you, BP?" Quinn asks, nervousness evident on his face.

He bites his lip for a minute, his fingers tapping on the table nervously. He's quiet for a few seconds, and you're about to nudge him when he speaks up. You think the alcohol is giving him a little confidence boost.

"I agree. You know, you're the only other person beside (L/N) here who I know that hasn't fallen under Mettaton's pile of shit yet." You chuckle. Your job here is finished.

Quinn perks up, and the two end up chatting away, awkwardness set aside for the moment. You only jump in when you're asked a question, but other than that, you keep quiet. Burgerpants seems to be relaxing with every word Quinn says, and vice versa. You listen to their conversation, and you leave early after you request a box for your food, and pay for you and the other two's meals in secret.

You knew BP would call you and bitch about it later after he thanked you profusely.

You bid them farewell, then walk out to your Jeep. That went well, as you had anticipated.

Your thoughts are scattered all over the place as you drive home, and you're getting more and more excited about having dinner with the monsters, and the anime marathon. You'll have to apologize to Frisk and Toriel, but you're sure they won't mind. It still doesn't excuse your absence.

With thoughts weighing your shoulders, you arrive at your apartment building and go inside, about to prepare for whatever tonight will bring.