#Consider this a small apology for all the awful dad stuff I am doing to this guy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

snowdice · 4 years ago

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 51]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

I have some editing to do, so I’m going to do a bit of this.

Chapter 21

Virgil woke with something soft but kind of stringy in his face. That was weird. He didn’t know what in the closet would feel like that. In fact, as he woke more he noticed more things that he couldn’t sus out the origin of, particularly the warmth curled up against his side. Curious, he blinked open his eyes. Oh, right. Patton.

The soft stuff in his face was Patton’s hair and the warmth next to Virgil was the rest of the boy’s body. Patton had all but refused to let Virgil go last night after Logan had taken off the restraints and Virgil hadn’t minded the attention. They must have fallen asleep together in the piles of pillows and blankets on the floor.

Virgil brushed his hair gently away, internally (for fear of disturbing him) shaking his head at him. He’d fallen asleep hallway on top of an assassin. He had no self-preservation instincts. He looked at his wrists. It seemed no one had any self-preservation instincts. This of course, included himself as instead of running off when free in case they decided to turn him in after all, he had fallen asleep on the floor with Patton too.

He looked to the side and saw Logan was already awake, reading on one of his chairs. He seemed to sense Virgil’s eyes on him because he looked up after a moment.

“You can get up if you like,” Logan said. “He is a heavy sleeper and won’t wake up if you squirm out of his grip.”

Virgil frowned, unsure if he wanted to risk it.

“I have breakfast ready for you.”

Okay, Virgil was going to risk it.

He carefully squirmed out of Patton’s grip, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead in apology for leaving him before getting to his feet.

Logan handed him a plate of eggs and toast when he walked over and gestured to the chair next to him. Virgil sat there to eat while Logan continued to read.

Virgil ate his food quickly, and then glanced over at Logan once he was done. Virgil was honestly at a bit of a loss. Usually, they came and got him out of the closet only once they were ready to do something, but Patton was still sound asleep on the floor and Logan looked engrossed in his book.

Virgil fidgeted slightly, unsure what he should be doing or even if he should be doing anything. Considering Logan hadn’t given him any instructions, he should probably not do anything. He didn’t want to screw up the first day of… whatever this was now.

Logan glanced over at him after a few minutes. “Don’t forget about the potion,” he reminded.

Virgil nodded and stood, walking over to the closet since it would still be in there from the previous morning. It was about half gone now and it had gotten to the point where Virgil didn’t feel any immediate affects from it anymore other than some warmth. It basically just felt like drinking tea.

He said as much to Logan when he walked back over to him.

“That’s good,” Logan said, “it means it has been working. It has healed any damage it can from malnutrition. Any internal organs that were damaged should be mostly healed. You may even notice your eyesight getting slightly better. Your immune system should also be boosted. You will likely also find it is easier to gain muscle and while you likely will never be as tall as you could have been, you will likely still grow a few inches during your next growth spirt.”

Virgil studied his hands where they were sitting on his thigh now as though he could see the changes that allegedly had already taken place in his body. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” Logan replied, eyes already back on his book like it was some normal thing and not a huge kindness he’d bestowed on Virgil before even really knowing him. As though Virgil didn’t just owe him more than just his life going forward.

They sat in silence then for a few more minutes, before the was a soft sigh from the floor and Patton started to wake. He sat up and looked around. His eyes landed on both Virgil and Logan sitting together and he seemed to light up.

“Good morning!” he chirped.

“Good morning, Patton,” Logan said as Patton popped to his feet, “I have breakfast for you.”

“Thank you Lo,” Patton said, throwing his arms around Logan’s neck, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Virgil presumed from the lack of surprise on Logan’s face that this was normal for morning Patton, not that the fact surprised him considering how night Patton acted.

He still managed to be somewhat surprised by the fact that Patton turned to hug Virgil a second later. Patton’s lips were pressed briefly to Virgil’s head and then he turned to grab the plate Logan had saved for him.

“So, what are we doing today?” Patton asked.

“I was thinking Virgil and I could continue our reading lessons if he is not opposed,” Logan said. Virgil nodded, happy with that prospect. “Other than that, I have no plans. I have already spoken with my father before the two of you woke. He is going to spend most of his day catching up on things he missed and said I could take the rest of the day off royal duties.”

“A whole day to relax then!” Patton said, happily chewing on his toast. “Reading sounds fun, but we should do something more active too.”

Logan hummed. “We can show Virgil the courtyard after the reading lessons,” he said.

It took a moment for it to register, but then Virgil froze. “Wait,” he said. “We’re going outside?”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes.”

“So, we’re leaving your room?”

“Are you alright with that?” Logan asked cautiously.

Virgil nodded quickly.

“Oh,” Patton said at his enthusiasm. “I guess you have been cooped up a while, haven’t you?” He smiled sadly and turned to Logan. “Maybe we can do reading lessons in the garden.”

“That would be satisfactory.”

“Great!” Patton said. He looked over at Virgil. “If we’re going out, we should probably put your hair up and get you in some clean clothes.”

Logan nodded. “You finish eating, and I will help Virgil find something to wear.”

Logan found him an outfit, though it was a bit baggy on Virgil and the hem of the shirt went halfway to his knees. When Patton finished breakfast, he sat Virgil down and carefully worked a brush through his hair.

“Can I braid it?” Patton asked.

Virgil hummed his consent. Having his hair brushed and done up by another person was a lot more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. He’d liked it when Logan did it the night before, though he had to very firmly push away thoughts of where that led.

“Okay!” Patton said after a few moments. “You look good. Ready to go?”

Virgil nodded and they both led him out into the hall. He paused before they got to the door. “What about the guards?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’ve already given them the same story as I did Dad,” Logan replied. “They know you’re here.”

Virgil still hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Patton promised. “Here, hold my hand?”

Virgil took the offered hand immediately, and Logan stepped in front of them both. Virgil felt himself relax a bit knowing the prince was between him and the guards.

They led him to the door.

Logan greeted both of the guards at the door, and they said good morning back. Both of them glanced at Virgil curiously for a moment making him shrink into himself, but they quickly averted their gazes.

Patton pulled him past them without incident and soon they were in the small dining hall Virgil had passed through his first night here. He remembered how he’d snuck around at the edges of the room in the shadows with the aim to kill the king, but now he was being pulled through the middle with the prince having just wandered past the royal guards in broad daylight like it was nothing.

It was so strange, and Virgil still couldn’t totally believe this was happening. The retraced his exact steps back down the spiral stairs near the kitchen and out of the door he and the nice gardener had came through. He could even see the shed he’d been hiding in from here. With a blink, he remembered they were going to the garden, and he wondered if he’d see the man again.

For now, he just looked around them as Logan and Patton led him past the garden shed towards an area with many trees. Orange and yellow leaves were starting to fall from many of the trees.

They made a satisfying crunching sound under his feet as he was led to a tree. He had seen the group of trees when he’d first arrived here and had even thought about hiding amongst them instead of in the shed, but they’d seemed scary in the dark. They were pretty in the daylight, however, and Virgil found himself tilting his head to watch the branches sway in the slight wind.

Logan sat down under it and pulled out a book and some writing materials from the bag he’d brought. Virgil settled down next to him so they could both look at the book at the same time and Patton flopped down on the other side, immediately setting to work tying fancy knots in the yarn he’d brought with him. Patton shuffled slightly to the side so they bumped shoulders as Logan opened the book and started Virgil’s reading lesson.

Chapter 22

Patton bit his lip to keep from laughing or awing. “Do you like the flower, Virgil?” he asked.

Virgil glanced up at him briefly and then his eyes returned to the flower he’d found. “It’s nice,” he said.

They’d finished the reading lessons and let Virgil explore the garden a bit. He’d found a dark purple and yellow flower (a pansy, Patton thought) and seemed to be endlessly fascinated by it. He’d been staring at it for minutes now, almost as though he expected it to do something. Patton did not quite understand his interest, but he was still adorable.

Logan sat next to him and the flower, smiling at him softly. “I imagine you’ll enjoy the garden in the spring,” Logan said. “There are many more flowers then. Of all types. We’ll have to show you all of the best spots. Mr. Deknis has a particularly good eye for colors, and it is always quite beautiful.”

“Who is Mr. Deknis?” Virgil asked.

“He’s the head gardener,” Logan said. “He’s a nice man, though a bit prickly when it comes to his garden. We may see him today if he’s in this part of the garden.”

“Would he have been the multrum I saw in the gardening shed when I hid there?”

“Ah, yes, that would be him. I was unaware you interacted with anyone in the castle.”

“He caught me in his garden shed, but he wasn’t mean,” Virgil said, he tilted his head curiously at Logan. “Why…” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“Why is he the gardener?”

Logan looked confused, “Well,” he said, “I guess because he wants to and is good at it.”

“No,” Virgil said with a frown. “I mean. Shouldn’t he… he’s…”

Logan seemed to think hard for a moment. “Right,” he said. “You’ve been under a blood compulsion. I’d guess you would have only worked with multrums in the military.”

“I guess I didn’t realize that they could be other things…”

“Of course, they can,” Logan said. “Their abilities don’t make them any less of people. Mr. Deknis likes to garden so he gardens.”

Virgil blinked at him.

“…Of course, all things considered, that may not be a familiar concept to you.” Virgil turned back to look at the flower instead of answering. “Right,” said Logan.

There were a couple of awkward beats of silence. Patton bit his lip and happened to glance up. “Oh,” he said. “Speaking of Mr. Deknis.” He gestured to the gardener who was coming up the path between the trees.

Logan sat up on his knees as Patton waved at him. He saw Patton and turned to walk towards them. “The two of you had better not be up to mischief in my garden,” Mr. Deknis called, his voice a bit gruff. He clearly did not see Virgil who had laid flat on his stomach to stare at the flower.

Logan rolled his eyes automatically. “We were just reading Mr. Deknis,” he said. “Your piles of dirt are safe.”

“No mud cakes?” Mr. Deknis asked skeptically still coming towards them.

“It has been a literal decade…”

Patton saw when Mr. Deknis was close enough to see Virgil.

He stopped in his track and looked down at Virgil who was already watching him a bit warily. “Hello,” he said, his voice a lot softer than it’d been a few moments before. His expression completely flipped in a moment to something very gentle when he saw Virgil and the cautious look on his face. Virgil did seem to have that effect on people.

“Hi,” Virgil replied.

Mr. Deknis looked at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Virgil. “This is our new friend, Virgil,” Patton offered.

“Hello, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a nod.

“Virgil, this is the gardener Mr. Deknis.”

“He’s not nearly as grumpy as he sounds,” Patton assured.

“Well,” Logan said, “yes he is.”

Mr. Deknis shot him a look that only served to prove Logan’s point if Patton was being honest. Logan just smiled back. Mr. Deknis apparently decided to let it slide because he turned back to Virgil.

“It’s good to see you again,” Mr. Deknis said. “Are you feeling better?”

Virgil nodded. “I’m a lot better,” he said. Mr. Deknis considered him for a moment, clearly reading how true that statement was. Patton was glad he seemed satisfied with the answer.

“I see you’ve met these two.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly. “Be careful with this one,” he said, pointing to Logan. “He’s a bad influence.”

Virgil frowned in confusion. “He’s the prince,” he pointed out.

“And a bad influence,” Mr. Deknis repeated. “He’s a beacon of irresponsibility and mischief and he corrupts that one,” he nodded to Patton.

“I am completely responsible,” Logan replied.

“Need I remind you of the cucumber incident.”

“I was 8,” Logan said.

“I know how old you were,” Mr. Deknis replied, “and you are hardly any older.”

“I resent that.”

Mr. Deknis just smiled and turned back to Virgil who was watching the interaction with pure curiosity.

“I just picked a few more of those apples for Patton’s mom to make into apple sauce. Would you kids like some?”

Virgil glanced over at Logan and Patton.

“That would be nice, thank you,” Patton replied for them all, standing up. Seeing that, Virgil also climbed to his feet.

“It’s back this way,” Mr. Deknis said, inclining hid head back the way he’d came and then turning to lead them that way. Patton followed him. He glanced back to see Logan put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder and give him a gentle push to get him going. “So, what are you kids up to today?”

“We wanted to show Virgil the garden and courtyard,” Patton said. “He’s been cooped up inside for a bit.”

“I see,” Mr. Deknis said. He glanced back at Virgil. “Feel free to come out in the garden anytime you like. As long as you don’t go about purposefully destroying stuff, I don’t mind you being out here.”

“I won’t destroy anything,” Virgil promised instantly.

“Well I hope you manage to keep that attitude even while befriending the large upright groundhog behind you.”

Virgil looked a little bit nervous. “He’s just teasing Virgil,” Patton assured. “He loves Logan.”

Mr. Deknis glanced back again and seemed to read the same thing Patton had read on Virgil’s face.

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Deknis said. “I have simply known the prince for a long time and joke with him in that way often. Logan is aware of that.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed, his hand squeezing a bit on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil relaxed a touch.

Mr. Deknis stopped and reached down into a bucket next to a tree. “I wouldn’t offer my apples to people I don’t like,” he said, tossing an apple underhand to Logan. Instead of trying to catch it, his eyes widened and he dodged out of the way.

“You would however throw apples at them despite knowing they have never been able to catch things.”

Mr. Deknis just rolled his eyes fondly, but Virgil frowned and turned to Logan. “You don’t know how to catch things?” he asked scandalized. “You should know how to catch things. What if someone throws a knife at you?”

Mr. Deknis looked… probably the right amount of concerned about that statement coming from a 14-year-old’s lips.

“Haha, yeah,” Patton said awkwardly. “Maybe you can teach Logan how to catch things Virgil, but later. Right now, why don’t we just get the apples and then show you the courtyard.”

Virgil was still frowning, but he did not argue with Patton’s suggestion.

Thankfully, Mr. Deknis did not push, though Patton did have to dodge many a meaningful side eye. He might… need to make sure he did not get cornered by the gardener in the coming days… or brush up on his lying without lying skills.

For now, though, he just handed out the apples, not tossing them this time. Virgil thanked him softly and Patton could see the way the usually fairly gruff man went all melty at that. He even slipped an extra apple to Virgil for later which Virgil perked up at.

Patton and Logan pulled him away gently after that so Mr. Deknis could go back to work, but Virgil seemed happy with the apples and copied Patton at waving goodbye to him cheerfully.

Despite the fact that he liked Mr. Deknis and he’d been nice, Patton still took a calming breath when they were no longer at risk of lying about something and getting caught by the man’s powers. They went back into the castle towards the courtyard.

Chapter 23

Logan was unsurprised that after showing Virgil the large courtyard, Patton almost immediately decided to instigate a game of tag. They were, after all, here with the goal of getting Virgil a bit active after having had him only in Logan’s room for weeks.

He was also unsurprised that Virgil seemed confused about the concept of tag, and Patton had to explain the game in detail to him.

It made him wince, but he still was unsurprised when Virgil went about inquiring after the consequences of losing the game.

He was, however, very surprised when, after getting all of the facts about tag settle, Patton was chasing after Virgil trying to tag him and suddenly the boy disappeared.

Patton almost ran into a wall in his confusion. He stared at his hands stretched out and just a couple of inches from touching the wall for a moment, before slowly looking up.

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed. “What?”

“What?” he asked.

“…What are you even hanging onto?”

“The wall,” Virgil replied.

Logan walked closer to the two of them and tilted his head up to look at him. Virgil had jumped up and somehow managed to find hand and foot holes on the seemingly smooth wall. He climbed about 5 meters above their heads and was peering down at them curiously.

“Okay,” Logan said. “New rule. Virgil is not allowed to scale walls during tag.”

Virgil frowned down at him. “Why only me?”

“Because Patton and I cannot do that anyway,” Logan said. “We would not be able to actually play if you remain up there.”

Patton glanced over at him and reached over to touch Logan’s shoulder. “No tag backs,” he said. Logan glared at him. “Why don’t you come down sweetie?”

“But Logan will tag me,” he said.

“Well, honey, that’s part of the fun,” Patton reasoned. “Don’t you want to try being it?”

Virgil seemed to consider this for a long moment. “Okay,” he agreed.

To Logan’s terror, he simply let go of the wall, falling straight down and landing crouched. He blinked at Logan. Right. With a start, Patton took off, so he’d have a head start. “No tag backs means a 10 second head start for me,” Logan reminded. Virgil nodded, and Logan reached out to poke him in the arm before immediately running off in the opposite direction as Patton.

Logan’s strategy worked out since, knowing he couldn’t go after Logan for a few seconds more, he chose to turn and go after Patton. After finding one of the statues to hide behind on the edge of the courtyard, Logan risked glancing back.

Virgil was faster than Logan (and likely Patton) had accounted for. Patton had gotten a good head start on him, but Virgil closed it quickly. Patton shrieked as Virgil barreled into him, bringing them both to the ground.

“Virgil!” Logan heard Patton giggle. Logan figured he was more than okay despite the tackle. “This isn’t how you play tag!”

“I combined tag and tackle hugs,” Virgil declared, making Patton giggle more.

“That’s very innovative, honey,” Patton said. “Now are you going to let me up?...Virgil… I’m counting down your 10 second head start in my head, and if you don’t let me up I’m going to tag you again.”

This did not seem to have the intended effect as Virgil did not remove himself from Patton’s person. Patton laugh when it became clear he was not going to move and began counting down “7, 6, 5, 4, you’d better let me go sweetie, or you’re going to get tagged again.” Virgil did not seem to care. “3, 2, 1.” Patton reached up and bopped him on the nose. “Tag!” he declared.

Logan was surprised when Virgil instantly jumped off Patton at that. He whipped around.

‘Oh,’ Logan thought as the boy’s eyes narrowed in on Logan immediately, ‘I see.’

“Virgil was already halfway across the courtyard towards him before Logan could even think about running away. There was no way that he was fast enough to outrun him. Perhaps he could outthink him, he thought. His eyes scanned his environment in the seconds he had left and landed on a large square piece of stone that held flowers in the spring. It was just full of dirt now, but it was still about waist high. Perhaps if he kept that between them, he could outmaneuver him. He sprinted towards it and scrambled to the opposite side from where Virgil was heading.

He really should not have been as surprised as he was that Virgil did not even slightly slow as he approached the planter box, instead grabbing ahold of the side of it and vaulting over it. Logan stumbled back, bracing for impact, but instead he just got a quick tap on the shoulder.

Logan blinked at him.

“I don’t know if you would be okay with tackle hugs,” he explained.

Logan considered him. “I would be okay with a nontackle hug.”

Virgil happily jumped forward to hug Logan, pressing his nose into Logan’s shoulder. Logan chuckled and patted the top of his head. “Six,” he said, “5, 4, 3…”

Virgil bolted away suddenly, actually making Logan stumble a bit. He paused just out of reach of Logan, looking at him with anticipation. “2,1,” Logan finished with a raised eyebrow. He already knew he was being played with, but he indulged him by starting towards him. Virgil danced out of the way, eyes alight. Logan sighed. “Is this truly how it’s going to be?” he asked.

Virgil didn’t answer, but to watch him with wide, excited eyes.

“Fine,” Logan said. He dashed towards him again, only to have him continue to maneuver just out of Logan’s reach each time Logan went forward. He’d call it taunting if there was any sign of malice in it.

They ran around the courtyard in spirts of Logan charging at him and Virgil expertly dodging. Eventually Patton came closer to them. Logan could tell that Virgil was aware of his presence, by how he glanced back at him briefly, but considering he was not ‘it,’ it seemed he chose to disregard him. However, he was not aware of the way Patton winked at Logan as he walked up behind Virgil.

Logan, on the other hand, knew exactly what was happening. He went to spring for Virgil again, and Virgil again moved to dodge, but this time Patton grabbed him around the waist, allowing Logan to actually tag him.

He turned slowly to face Patton who started to giggle immediately at the perplexed look on his face. It cleared into something else as soon as he heard Patton laugh. “Traitor!” he claimed. “We were on the same team and you betrayed me.”

“I just thought we should probably have mercy on poor Logan,” Patton replied.

“Hmm,” Virgil said, eyes again full of that playful mischief Logan had not seen until today. “Plea for mercy not accepted.”

Patton once again half-shrieked half-laughed as he was pounced on. The two of them went rolling across the grass, Virgil clearly keeping the rolling going longer than it should have as they made it a good few meters.

Virgil sprung off of him a few moments later.

“Oh, is it my turn?” Patton inquired with a huge smile. He slowly got to his feet. “Hmm, I’m probably at about 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” He took off after Virgil, but Patton had a bit more endurance than Logan, so instead of doing quickly calculated lunges at Virgil as Logan had done, he just ran at him full tilt without stopping.

Virgil ran from him, though Logan was pretty sure he was intentionally slowing himself down a bit so Patton had some amount of a chance. He kept turning to check behind him and make sure Patton was still somewhat close as he ran.

Which is why he didn’t see the imminent disaster in time.

Chapter 24

Thomas should have been paying more attention, but his mind had been on the meeting he’d just had with the castle guards about increased security in the wake of the possible threat from Mocnejsi. He’d decided to take a brief walk around the courtyard to clear his head but was still distracted with mulling over the options that had just been presented to him. He stepped into the castle courtyard and did not have time to step out of the way of the much smaller body rocketing towards him. Virgil slammed into his front, but not before Thomas got a good look at his face.

Virgil’s expression changed dramatically in the few seconds between him registering Thomas was there and running into him. For the briefest moment, Thomas could see that he must have been having a lot of fun. He’d caught the wide smile and sparkling eyes as Virgil turned his head back from looking at Patton who was chasing him across the greenery. He’d looked very happy which made it all the more painful to see that happiness die in and a few instants. When his head had turned back towards Thomas, there was a flicker of confusion at something being in his path.

Then, clearly everything about the situation registered, because his eyes blew wide in horror as he tried to stop himself, but there was no way he’d be able to in time. Thomas saw that fact register on his face the moment before he hit. Gone was any trace of happiness or joy in that split second. All that was left was dread that had no place anywhere near a children’s game of tag. It was the expression Thomas would expect from someone who felt ice give way under their feet in the middle of a lake they had thought was frozen solid.

He hit hard, but he wasn’t nearly big enough to actually harm Thomas. Thomas was thrown slightly off balance but managed to stay on his feet. He reached out a hand to his shoulder automatically to steady the child. There was a moment of pseudo calm where they both absorbed the impact and stilled.

Then, the boy’s shoulder slipped out of Thomas’s grip as he went crashing to the ground in a move that made Thomas wince for the state of his knees. Thomas couldn’t quite grasp what was happening for a moment as Virgil face planted onto the ground in front of him, but when he did, Thomas couldn’t help but flinch and take a step back from him.

Thomas had been bowed to before, of course, seeing as he was a king, but this was not out of respect or courtesy or even just tradition. This was out of terror. He was begging for mercy and it made Thomas feel sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said, meek and shaky into the ground, and there was almost something worse about the fact that he did not beg for forgiveness with his words, but only his posture. The way his breathes came far too quick and shallow said he was likely on the verge of a panic attack, but he was not blubbering through apologies or even not speaking at all. He gave a clear, if shaky, apology, and waited for whatever he thought Thomas planned to do to him. There was no way that was not learned.

“You don’t…” Thomas stuttered. “You don’t have to do that. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he reacted in no other way. He did not even react when Patton made it to his side and knelt down next to him. Patton’s hand hovered over his back, clearly wanting to touch down, but he pulled back on that instinct.

“Virgil, honey,” he said softly. “It’s okay. No one is mad. It was an accident.”

Virgil did not react to this at all.

Thomas caught Logan’s eye as he hurried over to them himself. “Sorry,” Thomas mouthed. Logan just nodded and turned his attention to his friend.

“There is no reason for any of that,” Logan said, his voice firm, almost clipped. “You are not in trouble. Now sit up.”

Virgil did respond to that, slowly shifting back on his knees. He kept his head down looking at the ground. “Sorry,” he said again.

“I…” Thomas said, surveying the three kids on the ground in front of him. Thomas slowly sunk to the ground to be at their level. Virgil was tracking his movements out of the corner of his eyes, his head still bowed and his shoulders tensed. “Hey,” Thomas said softly. “Were you three playing tag?”

Virgil hesitated, eyes flickering as he debated whether he should respond or not.

“Yeah, we were,” Patton answered for him after a moment of stressful silence.

“Well that’s fun,” Thomas said. “I’m sorry for interrupting the three of you. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Virgil glanced up at him for just a moment before looking away again. Patton apparently felt it was safe enough to touch Virgil, because he settled a hand on the boys shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ve just been having a fun day,” Patton said, carefully matching Thomas’s light tone. “We went to the garden and did some reading. Then, Mr. Deknis gave us some apples.”

“That’s nice,” Thomas replied. “He’s been talking about the new apples he’s been growing. He’s been working on them for years and they’re just beginning to bare fruit this year. I haven’t gotten a chance to try any yet. Are they any good?”

“They’re very good,” Patton told him. His hand rubbed slowly on Virgil’s back. “Isn’t that right, Virge?”

Virgil nodded a bit, a little less tense now, but still nowhere near calm.

“Well, I’ll have to try them soon,” Thomas said with a smile. “Thank you for the information. Now, I’ve got to get back to what I’m doing, but I hope you three have a good day.”

“I’ll see you later, Dad,” Logan said.

Thomas nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “Goodbye you three,” he said before turning away towards the door back into the castle. He paused to take a breath when the door closed behind him, cutting off the courtyard. There were a lot of thoughts to shirt through in regards to that conversation. He hated that Virgil was so obviously terrified of him. Both of their two interactions had ended with the poor thing panicking on the ground. He wished he had some idea of how to help him or at least someone to talk to about it.

Maybe he’d go visit Mr. Deknis himself and not just for the apples.

Chapter 25

“Alright,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I’ve got to go back to my room for the night. Will you two be okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Logan said. “It won’t be particularly different than the last two weeks.”

Patton nodded and leaned to the side to squeeze Virgil in another hug. He’d been clingy since the incident in the courtyard, and Virgil had been appreciative considering he was still pretty shaky from it. He was still surprised he’d touched the king of Prijaznia (let alone ran into him) and lived to tell the tale.

“Goodnight, Pat,” Virgil said because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t leave if Virgil didn’t.

“Night Virge,” Patton said with a smile before standing up from where they’d been sitting on the ground. He reached over to hug Logan who was sitting on a chair. “Night Lo! Put the book down and go to bed.”

Logan looked up from his book with a frown.

“It’s almost midnight,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and set his book down. “Very well,” he agreed. “We will get ready for bed.”

“You better! I’m going to come and wake you up early in the morning.”

“Early in the morning for you is 9am,” Logan scoffed.

Patton stuck his tongue out at him as he walked backwards out of the door.

Logan gave his book a mournful look once the door closed and Virgil almost giggled. “I won’t tell on you,” he said.

Logan thought about it for a few moments. “No,” he finally said. “We should probably get some sleep.”

Virgil nodded and pushed himself to his feet.

“We should probably both take a bath after sitting in the dirt today,” Logan said. “Do you want to go first or should I?”

“Don’t care,” Virgil answered.

“You can go first,” Logan offered.

Virgil felt himself smile. “You just want to finish the chapter in that book,” he accused.

“Perhaps,” Logan conceded.

Virgil just grinned and walked over to his closet to grab one of the outfits he’d been given for pajamas. He chose a pair of baggy shorts that went past his knees and the huge soft black sweater Logan had found in the back of his closet. He headed into the bathroom, noting Logan had already picked up his book again.

Logan may have declared the both of them dirty enough for bathing a few minutes before, but Virgil was cleaner than he thought he’d ever been before coming to the castle. Logan had taught him how to use the tub and what soaps to use for what a couple of days after he’d arrived and had suggested he clean himself regularly.

Virgil didn’t mind. The tub was enchanted to warm the water inside of it and Virgil loved it. Though, that had the negative affect of making it very difficult to leave.

He cleaned himself up quickly, so he’d have a few minutes to just sit in the water before he felt like he needed to get out and let Logan have a turn. He changed into his pajamas, pulling the crescent shaped protection charm out of his day clothes pocket and storing the warm to the touch stone in the short pocket. He used the clip Patton had made it to pin it to the cloth to make sure he wouldn’t lose it.

Logan was engrossed in his reading by the time that Virgil exited the bathroom. He did not look up as Virgil approached.

“Your turn,” Virgil said to him.

Logan clearly just barely managed to tear his eyes away from the book. “Right,” he said. “Yes.”

“The book will be there in the morning,” Virgil reminded.

“I know,” said Logan sadly as he set the book aside.

Logan never took much time in the bath, so Virgil quickly went about getting ready for bed the rest of the way. He put his day clothes in the basket Logan had for that purpose and started to straighten out the blankets and pillows in the closet.

He heard Logan come back into the room a few minutes later.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “What are you doing?”

Virgil looked over at him. “Getting ready for bed,” he answered, confused.

Logan frowned at him. “You don’t sleep in the closet anymore,” Logan said. “That’s only for when we were worried you might escape.”

“Oh,” Virgil said blinking over at him. “Right.” He felt a slight pulling at his chest. He liked the closet. It was warm and soft. Patton had taken a lot of care with how he’d arranged all of the pillows and blankets. It was the best place he could ever remember having to sleep in his life. Yet, he did not argue. He knew getting to sleep out in the open was supposed to be a reward and he wasn’t about to reject it.

Virgil stood and closed the closet. He tugged on the bottom of his sweater, stretching the fabric between his hands as he watched Logan pull down the covers of his bed and settle down onto it. Cautiously he walked over towards the bed. He wasn’t sure where he should lay down exactly. He dithered for a moment before bending down to sit on the floor near the right side of Logan’s bed and then laying down.

There was shuffling on the bed above him and then Logan’s head popped over the side to squint down at him. “On the bed Virgil,” he said.

Virgil looked up at him in shock. “But it… I’m…” He trailed off and there were a few seconds of silence.

“It is just a bed Virgil,” Logan said.

But it wasn’t ‘just’ anything. Virgil was pretty sure touching the bed of a royal family member without permission would be considered a capital offence. At least, it would in Mocnejsi. Yet, Logan was expecting him to just… crawl into it?

“Please just get up here,” Logan said. Virgil’s caution at touching something he was definitely sure he should not be allowed to be touching wared with his resolve to repay his literal life debt to Logan by doing whatever he wanted.

Feeling honestly a bit sick to his stomach, Virgil slowly pushed himself back to his feet. Logan scooted back over to the left side of the bed, and Virgil cautiously sat down on the empty side of the bed. After a second of hesitation he slowly laid down, his head hitting a soft fluffy pillow. He jumped when Logan flopped the covers on top of both of them.

Virgil took a long moment to absorb the situation while Logan took off his glasses and reached over to turn off the light next to him. He’d never slept in a bed before, or if he had he’d been too young to remember. In the orphanage there was a lack of actual beds due to overcrowding and there had always been someone bigger and stronger that Virgil didn’t dare fight for the use of them. During training, none of the kids had a bed. Only a few of the higher ups had ones at the more permanent training sites. There were very few situations where any of the assassins, at least a Virgil’s level, would be allowed to touch a real bed.

The light switched off, plunging them into darkness.

“Is this…?” Virgil said, eyes still pointed towards the ceiling even though his eyes had not adjusted to the darkness enough to be able to see it. “Do you want… things?”

“Things?” Logan asked.

Virgil did not move his head, but he did reach over and put his hand slightly above Logan’s knee. Logan didn’t move, so Virgil slid his hand up.

Virgil’s wrist was grabbed immediately and pulled firmly away from Logan’s inner thigh. He did not let go afterwards, his fingers squeezing hard, but not quite painfully. “Never,” Logan said, his voice harsher than it had ever been even on the day when Virgil was nothing more than an intruder with deadly intent. “Never offer anything like that to anyone ever again.”

“I was just…”

“I know what you were doing,” Logan said, voice icy, “and it inadmissible. Never offer that again for anything. Do you understand me?”

“I... yes.”

“Promise me.”

Virgil took a short moment to think. “I promise,” he agreed.

“Good,” Logan said, releasing his hand. His voice got softer too. “Good.”

They were silent for a long time after that, though Virgil had no delusions that Logan had fallen asleep. He could almost feel the tension.

“Sorry,” Virgil finally said softly.

“It’s not something you should be apologizing for,” Logan replied. The bed moved as Logan shifted and a hand lightly touched the top of his head. “Just… never.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. He shifted slightly after a moment until his head was in the crook of Logan’s arm. Logan brushed the hair out of his face with the hand that had been on his head.

“Goodnight Virgil,” Logan said.

“Goodnight,” Virgil responded. They were quiet after that, though Virgil was still awake for a while yet and Logan’s hand slowly stroked through his hair for a while. Eventually though, Virgil relaxed into mattress. He stuck his hand into his pocket and curled it around the charm in his pocket. The bed was nice, he thought. It was soft and warm… and safe. He finally fell asleep.

Chapter 26

Patton did their new special knock on the door so Logan and Virgil would know it was just him and they didn’t need to hide the fact that Virgil was sleeping in the prince’s room. He didn’t wait for a response, however, and just shoved open the door. He was surprised to see that Logan was not already out of bed and wondered for a moment if he had broken his promise stayed up way too late reading like he was sometimes known to do. Yet, then, Logan spoke from the bed. “I’m awake,” he called.

Confused, Patton stepped into the room. Logan wasn’t one for lazing around in bed; usually he was out of bed the moment he woke.

He stepped over to the bed and had to stifle a smile when he recognized the problem. Logan was awake, but Virgil was still sleeping, and he was half on top of Logan, his arms wrapped around him.

“Why don’t you just squirm out of his arms like you do me?” Patton asked, keeping his voice low.

“He isn’t like you,” Logan said. He did not bother to quiet himself at all.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked amused.

In answer, Logan started to move as though to squirm out of Virgil’s death grip on him. In response, Virgil made a pitiful mewling sound in his sleep that landed like a piercing blow straight to the heart. Logan stopped moving immediately and Virgil shifted to grip Logan tighter.

“Aw!” Patton said.

“It’s not cute,” Logan insisted. “I’ve been stuck for hours and I have to pee.”

Patton chuckled. “Alright, alright, I’ll save you.” He rounded the bed to Virgil’s side and crawled up on it. “Virgil, honey,” he entreated softly. “I think it’s time for me to get cuddles so Lo can get up.” Patton softly touched Virgil’s shoulder and pulled at him gently. He reached forward to carefully pry Virgil’s arms off of Logan.

Virgil made a more confused than heartbreaking sound this time, turning towards Patton so Patton could wrap his arms around him. Logan managed to scoot towards the edge of the bed.

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Logan made it off the bed and dashed towards the bathroom as Virgil’s arms came around Patton and squeezed. Patton laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. After a few moments, Virgil’s eyes started to flicker a bit.

“Good morning, honey,” Patton said softly. “Did you sleep good?”

He hummed sleepily. “Beds are nice,” he said. Patton felt a slight pang at that because it implied he didn’t get to sleep in beds very much, but he chose to shove that aside.

“They are,” Patton agreed. Virgil’s eyes started to close again. “Honey,” Patton laughed. “I think it’s time to wake up now.”

Virgil made a sleepy whining sound, squeezing Patton tighter. “Don’t you want breakfast?” Patton asked. That question managed to make Virgil open his eyes again. “I was thinking we could go down to the kitchen to eat that way it’s nice and fresh and I can introduce you to Mama real quick.” He neglected to mention the fact that they really did not have a choice. Mr. Deknis had blabbed to Mama about Virgil, and worse, had apparently mentioned that Virgil was skinny. As soon as he’d gotten home yesterday, he’d been met with an already worked up Mama firmly insisting that she meet Virgil sometime today.

He wasn’t going to tell Virgil that though, because he thought it might scare him away from both Mama and Mr. Deknis.

Virgil thought about the prospect of breakfast for a long moment. “Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll be awake.”

“Good,” Patton said. He reached up to bop him on the nose. Virgil narrowed his eyes and then bopped him back making Patton giggle. He sat up then, and Virgil let him. “Let’s get you something to wear and do your hair,” Patton suggested. Virgil nodded and reluctantly got out of bed, just as Logan returned to the room. “We’re going to go downstairs for breakfast,” Patton told Logan. “That way Virgil can meet my mom.” He gave Logan a significant look and Logan nodded once in understanding that this was not a choice.

Logan and Virgil got dressed, and Patton did Virgil’s hair up nice, before Patton led them out of the royal wing. They went down the main staircase instead of the spiral staircase that went right to the kitchen, mostly because it would be very busy, and Patton thought they should probably eat in the main dining room anyway. He could feel Virgil getting more anxious as they entered the busier part of the castle, and he stuck close to either Patton or Logan from the time they hit the top of the steps all the way to the main dining room.

There were a few people in the dining room already eating breakfast when they arrived. Virgil’s curiosity seemed to temporarily overwhelm his anxiety as he looked around the large hall and at all of the people there. Patton looked around trying to see it through his eyes. He’d been running around this place since he was little, so he never really thought about how big the room was or how grandly it was decorated, but Virgil was just seeing it for the first time. Patton smiled at him as he guided him to one of the seats. There was already muffins on the table so Patton grabbed one and plopped it in front of Virgil.

Virgil frowned down at the muffin dubiously. “You just… keep food out in the open?” he asked.

Right.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Patton promised. “No one here would have put anything in it.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes and looked around at the other occupants of the room suspiciously.

“Honestly,” Logan said. “No one even knew we would be down here for breakfast. Nobody would just put something in random people’s food for no reason.”

Virgil gave him a look like he’d just told him people could in fact breathe under water. Virgil was really from a… whole different world, wasn’t he?

“It’s really fine,” Patton said. “Logan and I have eaten things on the table like this a lot.”

“I’m surprised your not dead yet,” Virgil said.

Logan rolled his eyes and reached for a muffin. Virgil slapped it out of his hand and onto the floor. “Really?” Logan asked.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at him. “No eating unsecured food!”

“Virgil,” Logan groaned.

“I bet you don’t even know what common poisons taste like.”

“No,” Logan said. “I don’t because I don’t worry about being poisoned on a daily basis!”

“You should!”

People were starting to look over at them. Patton shot an awkward smile at the woman a few chairs down.

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“Just don’t eat the muffins Logan,” Patton said under his breath.

“I do not understand why-”

“Because it’s stupid as he-”

“Shush,” Patton commanded out of the corner of his mouth, “people are watching, and Virgil is just a normal castle resident.”

That shut the both of them up at least.

“No muffins for now,” Patton said. “I assume it’s okay to eat the things they bring straight from the kitchen.”

Virgil looked a bit leery of this still, but he nodded.

“Good,” Patton said, “then we’ll just wait for that to get here and then everyone will be happy, right?”

Logan opened his mouth and Patton turned to glare at him.

“Right?”

Logan closed his mouth, though clearly, he did not want to give in so easily. They’d be doubtlessly rehashing this conversation once they were alone again.

Patton caught sight of one of the kitchen workers he knew fairly well come out of the kitchen and deliver food to a group of people who were there before them. She caught sight of them and walked over likely to ask them what they wanted for breakfast. Patton watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil tensed, eyeing her approach suspiciously and she slowed under his glare.

This was going to be a long breakfast.

Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

Logan watched Virgil’s eyes light up a bit when the flavor registered. His posture didn’t completely relax, but he seemed at least a bit less like he was contemplating jumping through the window. His trust was almost worryingly easy to buy sometimes. All it took was a not poisoned peppermint.

Ms. Heart seemed pleased by his reaction. “I’m actually going to be making some new ones soon and I’m trying to get rid of these. Would you like to take another one for later?” she asked, holding out the tin.

He looked at it warily again, but he still stepped closer slowly and took another piece. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Ms. Heart said, eyes looking over him intensely. “You look like you could do to with a few more sweets every so often.”

Virgil tilted his head in that way he did when he was particularly perplexed.

Patton giggled a bit. “She means your skinny.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Logan already gave me a malnutrition potion for that.”

“Did he now?” she asked, her eyes flickering to Logan. Logan winced. He was definitely in trouble for not bringing him directly to her. He was sure he’d hear all about it as soon as she caught him without Virgil in the room.

She turned back to Virgil with a smile, and Logan imagined Virgil had no idea how dead Logan was. “Well, that’s a very good start, but if there was need for a nutrition potion, we should be careful to make sure you get enough calories and nutrients every day going forward.” She sat down at her desk. “Why don’t you and I talk for a bit about making sure you get some good food.”

He still looked cautious but was predictably enticed by the promise of food. He did not sit still, but he did put his hands on the back of one of the chairs and slightly lean on it. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to have a few more specific questions, but let’s just start with what are your favorite foods?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Virgil replied immediately.

“He really likes chicken alfredo,” Patton contributed.

Virgil perked up at the name of the food. “I did like that,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Ms. Heart replied. That’s a start.

Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

“And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

“Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

“Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

“We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

“Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

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“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

“You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

“That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

“I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

#proofread stories #not writing

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j0elmill3r · 4 years ago

Text

a brief inquiry into online relationships

prologue - chapter i - chapter ii - chapter iii - chapter iv - chapter v - chapter vi - chapter vii - chapter viii - chapter ix - chapter x - chapter xi - chapter xii -chapter xiii - chapter xiv - chapter xv

chapter one

"friends don't lie and it all tastes the same in the dark"

Featuring: Chris Evans, Jaeden Martell, Katherine Langford, Jamie-Lee Curtis, Dodger Evans

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: None, but if there is, please let me know and I'll add them in!

A/N: Thank you all for reading this series so far! It's getting going now, and I hope you all enjoy this series because I'm really into it and I have it all planned out for each chapter. If anyone wants to be tagged, please let me know by asking through my inbox or my messages! Feedback and comments are always appreciated!

You sat in your dad's trailer for the rest of that day, scrolling through your phone and looking at random TikToks you would show him later, only to have to explain to him what it meant. He wasn't too up to date on technology, he didn't even have Instagram you were convinced that he barely knew how to use Twitter. But who were you to judge your dad's lack of technological knowledge?

"Y/N, come on, get up," You groaned as your dad shook you awake, almost rolling you off of the bed. "Y/N." He dragged out. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, shooting a pissed off glare at your dad. Chris chuckled and shook his head.

"What the fuck is going on? It's like," You paused to check your phone for the time, only for your face to fall as you saw that you had been asleep for the past 6 hours, meaning it was 9pm. "Alright, nevermind." You mumbled.

"C'mon, I told Jaeden you would be meeting him at 9:30 so you could hang out with him," Chris said, ushering you to sit up and get out of the bed. "Go and brush your hair, you look like you were dragged through a bush, honey."

"Wow, thank you for the compliment, do you ever wonder why you don't have a girlfriend?" You asked him, standing up and walking into the bathroom and brushing your hair. Chris laughed and shook his head, fixing the bed up from where you had been sleeping.

"Because I'm so goddamn good looking that no one wants to be with me because they'd be upstaged?" Chris said, leaning against the door frame where you were standing. You laughed as you put the hairbrush down.

"If that helps you sleep at night, you can believe that all you want. But just remember that there's one person you can never upstage in the beauty department," You pointed at your dad as you grabbed your phone from the nightstand, taking it off of charge and sliding it into your pocket. Chris stood waiting, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "It's me. Obviously." You pointed out. Chris nodded and chuckled.

"Ah, you got me there," He admitted. You smiled over at him and then stuck your tongue out at him. "Alright, go, I got stuff to do, have fun, but not too much fun." Chris said, pushing you gently and pointing at you glaringly before he shut the door. The trailer door shut behind you and as you looked out over the lot, you let out a heavy sigh, knowing that any one of the trailers in front of you could be Jaeden's. But, luckily for you, you saw that he was walking towards you. His hands were shoved into his pockets, obviously he wasn't used to the Boston weather patterns and that it was very rarely warm any month after August.

"Cold?" You asked him, getting his attention. Jaeden looked up at you and laughed, nodding.

"I didn't think it would be so freezing, I'm not particularly used to the cold," He said, watching you as you walked down the steps to meet him, a small smile on your face.

"You get used to it after a while, I mean, it's only October and to be honest it only gets worse from here," You told him as you walked to his trailer, your jacket held close to your body as the wind cut through you like a knife. "What has my dad told you about me?" You asked him as you entered his trailer. Knowing your dad, he had probably already embarrassed you.

"Nothing bad, all good things, I promise," He said. You smiled over at him as he turned his TV on. "From what your dad said, he told me that your favourite movie's The Lost Boys, and I've never seen it before so I thought we could watch it together." Jaeden said. You giggled and nodded. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, I mean, he knew your favourite movie. There was something about Jaeden that just made you feel so comfortable, you felt like you could be yourself around him.

"Yeah, but I'm kind off offended that you've never seen it before," You said. Jaeden laughed and shook his head, looking back over at you as you walked over to the couch, sitting down. "Like come on! It's one of the best 80's movies ever, it's up there with The Blues Brother." You pointed out. Jaeden sat down beside you and pressed play on the movie.

"I haven't seen that either," He said, looking up at you wearily. You let out a huff and shook your head. For someone who was appearing in a lot of movies, his taste appeared to be God awful. "I'm gonna have to spend all of my time showing you some great movies, aren't I?" You asked him. Jaeden nodded and smiled, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

"Would you hate me if I said I haven't seen any of the Star Wars movies?" Your jaw almost fell open as you turned to him, a look of pure shock written on your features. "I just haven't gotten around to it yet." He admitted.

"Haven't gotten around to it yet? They've only been out for like 41 years!" You exclaimed. "I can't believe this, I considered you a man of taste." You feigned offence.

"Well, I apologize, Y/N," He said, making you laugh. "I promise, once you show me all of the other hundreds of movies you're probably gonna wanna want to show me, we can watch Star Wars."

The night went well, you finished The Lost Boys and arranged another movie night with Jaeden and said you would watch 'The Blues Brothers' the next time. You didn't go back to the house since it was nearly 2 am by the time you had finished, even though the movie finished at midnight. You had spent the other few hours of the night showing Jaeden pictures and videos of Dodger, and you promised you would bring him to set one day. If you were to be honest, you were the happiest you had been in a while last night.

"How was it?" Your dad asked, giving you a cup of coffee as you woke up from sleeping on the couch. It was 7 am and you only had about 5 hours of sleep, and you still had to drive home to take Dodger out and give him his breakfast. Chris sat down beside you and put his arm around you, smiling as you groaned and put your head on your dad's shoulder.

"It was good, we watched The Lost Boys, he said you told him that it was my favourite movie," You looked up at him, your eyebrows furrowed and your face scrunched up. Chris nodded. "How did you know?" You asked him.

"I made the mistake of letting Scott babysit you when you were four, he let you watch it and you were oddly fascinated with it," He told you. "Realistically, you should have been shit scared of it." Chris laughed and remembered the confusion he felt when he saw that you were sitting there watching the movie quite the thing. Scott looked more scared of the movie than you did, and he was way older than you.

"Can I bring Dodger here today? I promised Jaeden that I would let him meet him," You said, putting your shoes on and finishing your coffee. Chris nodded and then grinned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So you're making promises to him?" He said suggestively. You rolled your eyes and let out an annoyed sigh.

"I told him he could meet the dog, not marry him, dad. And anyway, we're just friends," You assured your dad. Chris nodded skeptically and hummed, chuckling. Across the lot at the mansion, everyone was beginning to gather. Jaeden was standing with Katherine, feeling oddly nervous for some reason.

"So what are you trying to say, that you like Chris' daughter?" Katherine asked him. Jaeden sighed and nodded, he felt like an idiot. He had only hung out with you once and he felt like he was head over heels for you, what a fool. Last night was the most fun he had had in a while, and all you did was watch a movie and hang around.

"Is it that obvious? I saw them bump into each other yesterday and they both had the puppy dog eyes about them," Jamie-Lee piped in.

"If Chris ever finds out he'll kill me on the spot, I guarantee you that," Jaeden said. Speaking of the devil, Chris came towards them, completing the set. Jaeden's face fell, noticing that you weren't following behind your dad.

"Where's Y/N?" Jaeden asked Chris.

"She's gone back to the house to get ready and bring Dodger to set," Chris told him. Jaeden nodded. Back at your house, you had cleaned up and showered, changing from your pyjamas to actual clothes. You then took Dodger a walk before getting him into your car, taking his leash and driving back to the set. You took him to your dad's trailer and waited for them to call break. "Y/N?" Dodger barked and ran to the front door to greet his dad.

"Hey, how's your day going?" You asked your dad. Chris went to the bedroom and sat Dodger on the bed.

"It's going good, but better now my two favourite children are here," Chris said. "Wait, I just noticed that my colour scheme matches Dodger's." He pointed out. You pulled out your phone and videoed them sitting beside each other, their colours matching very ominously well.

"Wow, you are that fashionable you stole the dog's combo? That's amazing, dad," You said, a sarcastic smile on your face.

At lunch, Jaeden had gotten off earlier and asked if you could bring Dodger, and he needed his afternoon run anyway. Waiting in the yard of the mansion, Dodger sat beside you looking up at the ball in the thing you used to throw it for him.

"Hey," He said, appearing behind you. Jaeden was still dressed in the school uniform, and you couldn't help but laugh. "What?"

"Nothing, I just didn't take you as the uniform kinda guy," You said. Jaeden snickered and smirked at you with a small shake of his head.

"I'm not, I just can't get changed yet. If I could I would, school uniform's are really uncomfortable," Jaeden said.

"Tell me about it. I mean, it could be worse, I've been wearing then everyday for the past 10 years," You told him. "Look, Dodger, who's this?" Dodger spun around to say hello to Jaeden, who crouched down and pet your dog, trying his hardest to not get any dog hair on him.

"Hi buddy," Jaeden greeted your dog. "Can I throw his ball for him?" He asked you. You nodded and handed him the ball launcher, watching as he threw the ball for Dodger, who chased after the ball.

"Thanks for last night, by the way," You said. Jaeden smiled at you. "I brought Blues Brother's on DVD for tonight if you're still up for it." You told him.

"Yeah, of course. Who else am I gonna watch all of the supposed 'superior' movies with?" He asked you. You giggled and if your face in your hands. The sound of your laughter made Jaeden's heart soar, he would do anything to hear you laugh like that all the time, it was like music to his ears any time he heard it. Dodger came back with the ball, dropping it at your feet and sitting back, looking up at you expectantly. "Guess he's looking for this." Jaeden handed you the launcher and you got the ball in the top part.

"Alright Dodge, you ready bubs?" You moved back a few steps before launching the ball halfway across the extensive yard. Jaeden watched you, impression written on his features. "Keep looking at me like that and I'll throw you across the yard like that." You threatened him playfully.

"You would never," Jaeden challenged you. "You'd have to catch me first." He said.

"You think you can outrun me?" You asked him. He grinned at you before running off from you, running down to where Dodger was. "Jaeden!" You yelled, starting to chase after him. He apparently didn't care that he was supposed to be entirely clean, but there wasn't any rain, so he probably wouldn't get that dirty. You laughed as you chased after him, catching up to him slowly but surely. You didn't see him, but your dad was watching you, a smile on his face at the sight of you seemingly happy.

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c-c-cherry · 4 years ago

Note

What's the most embarrassing thing each of the Bucci gang has done/has had happen to them?

Ok I took WAY too long on this but I loved this question so much and it was so fun coming up with these. Special thanks to my girl @jjadegreen for helping me!!

**This isn’t NSFW but I’d say its teen and up just because of some of the stuff talked about hehe**

______________________

Mista

-Pre-canon Mista was a bit sick one night so Bruno made him stay home while they all went on this one mission

-So naturally he’s like “HELL YEAH HOME ALONE”

-Bruno forgets his wallet and had to come back a little while later to get it and walks in on him wearing the following:

One of Abbacchio’s signature goth dress robe thing

Like 12 of Bruno’s barrettes all sticking to the top of his head

Fugo’s tie

Narancia’s bandana

All while BLASTING K-Pop at full volume in the living room. And our man is INTO IT. This isn’t just some radio coincidence shit, he was SCREAMING the lyrics. He owns the CDs.

-Bucciarati LOSES IT. Mista has never been so mortified in his life and Bruno has never laughed so hard in his life.

-He promises not to tell the rest of the gang but tells him it’s officially blackmail material

-They never speak of it again but at Christmas Mista opens Bruno’s gift and it's a brand new K-pop CD and everyone thinks its just a gag gift but like

-He definitely listens to it later alone in his room

Bucciarati

Bruno Bucciarati does not get drunk for two main reasons:

He blacks out every time

He’s an absolute lightweight

-The last time Bruno got absolutely piss drunk, he was with Abbacchio and it wasn’t even funny. It was just surreal because Bucciarati never lets himself go to such an extent

-For whatever reason Bruno is like “hey I never drink we should go to the bar or something” after a successful mission

-Even though the legal age of drinking is technically 16 in Italy they leave “the kids” home to watch mean girls or some shit

-Mista tags along too because he’s worried Bruno will get drunk and spill about the unfortunate “K-pop incident”

-My man Bruno drank like two beers and was immediately GONE like he got up and got lost in the bar after way too many drinks and ran into a drag Queen with Abbacchio’s hair

-Said drag queen became Bruno Bucciarati’s new drinking buddy

-He stumbles over to the karaoke contest and gets onstage and grabs the shitty bar mic and screams “THIS GOES OUT TO LEONE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MWUA TWO YEARS HONEY~” and Mista is just like 👁👄👁

-Because uhhh they have literally been together for two years but everyone in the gang just thinks its a weird on/off thing because they never talk about it

-He sings dancing queen because its by ABBA and both Leone and Mista are fucking screaming with laughter and Abbacchio is filming the entire goddamn thing

-He buys the entire bar drinks they all love him so much

-Afterwards Leone tries to get them home so he leaves them outside while he takes a piss and when he walks back out THEY ARE GONE.

-Mista thought it would be a perfect time for them to get tattoos because his fucking capo is drunk off his ass and there is no better time

-Mista gets these two giant smoking guns on his back and his ass is in SO MUCH PAIN afterward that he leaves Bruno alone while he’s picking out his tattoo to get ice cream

-When he comes back Bruno has a tattoo ON HIS LEFT FOOT THAT SAYS “Never don’t give up.” The tattoo people tried to correct him but he insisted

-Abba finds them and is just like “jesus god” and takes them all to a hotel because there is no way in hell he’s taking them back home like this

-The next morning Bruno remembers absolutely NOTHING and as the gang admires Mista’s giant tattoo they ask if Bruno got one too and he’s like “god no I’m not that irresponsible”

-As soon as they’re alone Abba’s like “you got one on the bottom of your foot” and you can just see the moment Bucciarati’s soul leaves his body

Fugo

-Ok so if y’all didn’t know Fugo literally canonically wears a thong

-This isn’t sexualizing him (also I am indeed a minor don’t harass me) it's just a fact of life. You do you Fugo.

-So he sneaks out of the house once in a while and goes shopping for them cause our man’s gotta live, you know?

-He pops in the underwear store one day and you wanna know who he fucking passes by in the lingerie section?

-Bruno fucking Bucciarati.

-Which isn’t exactly a surprise considering he’s wearing visible lingerie in his tiddy window outfit but like

-That’s like running into your dad at femboy hooters

-Much to his dismay, the man spots him immediately and there’s just this...awkward silence as Fugo is holding this shopping basket of underwear and Bruno is holding the raunchiest piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life

-They never talk about it again. Fugo finds a different store.

Abbacchio

-The most mortifying moment Abbacchio can live to remember is the first time he told Bucciarati that he loved him

-Pre-canon, our man is NOT having a vibing time

-He gets absolutely wasted with while Bruno’s at his apartment

-He’s the most miserable drunk, so he’s just fucking sobbing and Bucci is sitting there trying to console him and Abbacchio just looks up at him with tears streaking down his face and says “I’m in love with you” and the look on Bruno’s face just makes him feel even more miserable

-The entire night he keeps blubbering about how much he loves him and how much he means to him and how beautiful he is and the entire time Bruno is doing that thing where he tries to cover his face with his hand because our man is mega FLUSTERED up in here

-When he wakes up he remembers EVERYTHING and he wished he didn’t because then maybe he would be able to say that he didn’t mean it

-Bruno is surprisingly just like “Did you really mean it?” and he can’t lie so he just tells the truth and he’s just nonchalantly like “me too”

-Bruno thinks it’ll be a nice wedding story and Abbacchio no longer wants to live on this planet

Narancia

-Mista and Narancia are vibing in the living room one night and Nara tells Mista to grab his gameboy from upstairs

-He says its under his pillow (or else Bruno will take it away every night hehe)

-But you wanna know what else is under Narancia’s pillow? His Diary. No, it’s not a journal or just a blank book, Mista finds a book titled DIARY.

-And the shit in there is priceless.

“Bucciarati is sooo cool. I tried cutting my hair like his, but it didn’t really work. I think I gotta wear this hat for the next couple weeks. Shit. Fuck. If someone takes it off, I’m so fucked.”

“I clogged up the toilet yesterday and was too scared to tell Abba, so I just flushed it again but then the water wouldn’t stop flooding everywhere so I used Aerosmith to explode the toilet and told Abba that it was a stand attack. He believed me. If ANYONE ever finds out, I’m dead.”

“HOLY SHIT. I swallowed a tide pod yesterday and freaked out so I made Giorno turn it into a grape in my stomach with his stand. I almost DIED. But I didn’t so I’m over it. If Giorno ever tells anyone, I’ll kill him.”

-Narancia realizes about ten minutes after Mista left that HOLY SHIT HIS DIARY

-he finds Mista three quarters way through it and gives him $50 not to tell anyone about it.

-The shame never leaves, though

Trish

-Jade gave me a cute headcanon that Trish’s mom was still only teaching her how to properly put on makeup before she died (it's not like there was youtube or anything to teach her either) so our girl Trish only knows the basics

-She puts on lip gloss and blush and mascara and stuff but she’s never even TOUCHED eyeliner and rarely puts on eyeshadow. She doesn’t even wear concealer most of the time (she honestly doesn’t even need to, her skin is baby soft smooth)

-So long story short she kind of misses her mom and remembers how her mom was going to teach her a smokey eye before she died and is determined to teach it to herself now

-So she pulls a little heist and snatches some of Abbacchio’s makeup while they’re all out doing stuff

-She was not prepared for how heavy this shit was. She was used to the lighter, more natural stuff but Abba’s makeup is EXTREME.

-All of his stuff is waterproof so it doesn’t wash off while he’s crying at 3am and it’s just this—dark, heavy stuff.

-She actually hasn’t used a thick, real tube of lipstick before, only those little gloss tubes with the stick because she has smaller lips so when she crouches over with a small makeup mirror in fear of anyone somehow walking in on her and smears Abbacchio’s thick, dark purple lipstick on her lips, she knew she was absolutely fucked. She has no idea how to do this shit, especially not with dark, heavy goth makeup

-The smokey eye does not work. It’s just smeared eyeshadow EVERYWHERE, it looks like she has two giant, awful, black eyes and her first attempt at eyeliner was just—unspeakably horrible

-She has no idea where to start so she just puts on way too much of absolutely everything and immediately regrets it the moment she looks at herself in the bathroom mirror

-Abba comes home early and immediately realizes that some of his makeup is gone and he knows it has to be Trish

-He walks upstairs to confront her but just hears loud, ugly sobbing coming from her room and bursts in only to find her desperately trying to wipe off layers of caked-on water-proof makeup and absolutely failing

-The two of them spend all night taking it off all while Trish is still crying teary apologies to him

-To add in some wholesome Dadbacchio, he teaches her how to properly put everything on the next day <3

Giorno

-Some people forget that as a 15 year old, Giorno sometimes has absolutely no impulse control

-So when Polnareff tells him that he’s the spitting image of his evil, murderous, vampire dad he’s immediately like “haha well I’m gonna go dye my hair now”

-Everyone had something to do that day/night so Giorno waltzes over to the nearest drug store and grabs one of those at-home dying kits (he got dark green cause he thought it would look cool with his new outfit)

-He gets home and has absolutely no idea what he’s doing so he just thinks it’ll work out somehow

-Soooo yeah he does NOT put it in properly at all, he just kind of takes the shit and slathers it all over his hair and doesn’t do his roots and doesn’t put it up and leaves it dripping down his back and stuff and his stupid ass FALLS ASLEEP with the hair dye in

-He wakes up and the sheets are this really awful light green colour but he doesn’t pay any mind to it

-He looks in the mirror and from the front it actually looks good and he gets all excited and decides to wash it out

-When he gets out of the shower it’s this awful disgusting light light ugly green and he almost cries. Almost.

-It looks like someone dunked him in that Nickelodeon slime and he looks at the package and it says the dye will stay in for at least 3 weeks and there aRE TEARY EYES

-He spends the next hour in the shower trying to wash it out. It does not wash out.

-Utterly defeated with his hair matted and donuts practically falling apart, he stumbles over to his room and tries to wash the sheets covered in slime-coloured hair dye which *surprise!!!* doesn’t wash out either!

-He must dispose of the evidence, but of COURSE they’re out of garbage bags so he shoves all the dye kit stuff and the sheets into a mafia body bag and chucks it by the garbage can outside without a single thought

-Which he SHOULD have had a single thought about it, because when they get home and Narancia spots the body bag he’s like “holy shit guys I think Giorno killed someone while we were out”

-So they all panically pop into the house and cautiously try to find Giorno. Fugo finally finds him pacing around his room in the dark and when he flicks on the lights HO-LY SHIT.

-Fugo obviously bursts out into laughter and Bruno books it up the stairs and also starts cackling and Narancia is like “OH MY GOD YOU KILLED SOMEONE LOOKING LIKE THAT?!” and Giorno has to explain to them that the body bag is filled with stained bedsheets (much to his embarrassment)

-Abbacchio takes so many pictures and Giorno is having a nervous breakdown because he cannot live with his hair looking like this

-Bruno makes Abba fix it the next morning and he loves every second of Giorno’s mortification

-The pictures Abbacchio took of that night are framed next to the pictures of Bruno’s wasted karaoke night in his room

______________________

Thank you for the ask, anon!! I’m absolutely exhausted now haha so I’ll scroll through the rest of the asks when I wake up!!

#jjba #ask-c-c-cherry #headcanons #jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind #bucci gang #giorno giovanna

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duskowithapen · 4 years ago

Text

Of Flowers And Tattoo Needles Chapter Three

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A Resolution

“Don’t you dare tell her, bug!”

Luka wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. Adrien had walked into the tattoo parlour proper, standing toe to toe with his fiancée, having a full argument in front of them. If Adrien is in a relationship with this Kagami, then what was up with the pet names and the forehead kiss?

“Why are you so intent on keeping this a secret?!” Kagami demanded, waving her rapier under the blonde’s nose threateningly.

“I wanted it to be a surprise!”

“You know that I hate surprises!”

“But this is a good surprise, I promise!”

“Adrien, I swear if you got a dragon tattooed onto your chest I will do something drastic!”

“C’mon Kagami, like Marinette would let me get something so obvious-OH-GODS-DON’T-IMPALE-ME—”

Much to Juleka’s displeasure – she was watching the argument with one of her signature ‘ah yes, chaos’ smirks – Marinette intervened before blood could be shed. “Maybe we could all calm down and talk this out like rational, non-violent human beings. I don’t think bloodstains will do anything for my shop’s reputation.” She pressed a hand to her hip and started Adrien down. “Unless you want to keep playing the scaredy cat, chaton?”

Adrien’s mouth dropped open. A hand was held dramatically to his chest. “So cruel m’lady!”

Kagami huffed and lowered her weapon, turning to give Marinette a bow. “My apologies, Mari-hime. I shall eviscerate him outside.”

“Let’s just not eviscerate anyone, hmm?” Marinette sighed.

The pout that appeared on Kagami’s face made Rose giggle, and it seemed to remind the swordswoman that yes, there were other people in the store. In the back corner, while the redhead was intent on his work, the client was watching them. Kagami bowed again. “I did not realise you had other clients, Mari-hime. Was this a bad time?”

Marinette waved a hand towards the couches. “It’s okay, Gami-chan. I was about to get Luka’s tattoo started, but I should probably help my idiot of a best frien before he gets himself killed.” Adrien visibly wilted at the look Marinette gave him. She turned an apologetic smile onto Luka, and he blinked at the full force of those beautiful bluebell eyes focusing completely on him. “Are you okay if I postpone your tattoo for a little bit? I promise this won’t take too long.”

Luka shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. He was really missing his guitar now. “I’m fine with that. You’re not the only one wanting to know about someone’s tattoo,” he directed at Kagami, who hummed questioningly. “My sister and her partner have been pestering me about my tattoo all morning.”

“See!” Adrien burst out, “Keeping your tattoo secret until it’s finished is normal Kagami!”

A loud clap stopped the argument from restarting. “Alright! If everyone could just sit down, we can get this cleared up,” Marinette said in a tone that demanded total obedience. There was a glint in her eyes that suggested great violence on those who did not comply.

Luka was very lucky that he was standing in front of one of the couches in the first place. That tone of voice, that look on her face… he dared any man not to get a bit weak in the knees.

“Sounds like a plan,” Juleka murmured as she brushed past, shooting him an uncomfortably knowing look as she sat by Rose’s side. “Considering that Luka thought you and Adrien were together. Care to explain how he could have come to that conclusion?”

There was a moment of silence. Luka and Marinette’s faces flared up in identical blushes. Adrien’s face reddened slowly as he bit his lip. Kagami’s eyebrows rose past her fringe. In the back corner, the client was still watching like the whole situation was a soap drama.

Then laughter.

Luka’s head snapped up as Kagami of all people started giggling, stern face crinkling into a smile as she tried to smother her amusement behind one fist. Adrien finally took a breath, losing his battle with the laughter he’d been restraining. His tugged his fiancée down onto the other couch with him. “Oh god, really?!”

Marinette dropped into the seat beside Luka, face hidden behind her hands. He leaned in a little. “I feel like I’m missing something?” He said lowly.

A blush still stained her face when Marinette looked up. Despite their closeness, she didn’t shift away. “Just a little, yeah,” she replied hoarsely. “I just feel so stupid. There I was, practically throwing myself at you, and you seemed interested, and then Adrien walks in, and oh god, you must have thought I was some floozy, that I was flirting with you despite having a boyfriend – which we’re not by the way, I swear I’d never cheat on you – I mean, if we were together I wouldn’t cheat – not that I’d cheat on Adrien if we were together, which again, we aren’t – but I wouldn’t have said those things or done anything if I was with someone else, but you didn’t know that, and ugh it’s all just a great big fucking mess –” Marinette stopped with a sudden inhale as Luka pressed a finger to her lips.

“It’s okay, Marinette,” he whispered, ignoring their avid audience. “I admit, I was confused, but I figured I could try and clear it up today anyway. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d made a wrong assumption,” he said with a self-depreciating chuckle, “I’ve never been all that good with people. I find it easier to communicate through my music than anything else.”

Marinette opened her mouth to reply, and Luka had to restrain a shiver at the feeling of soft lips against his guitar calluses. “I really am sorry, Luka. I keep forgetting how mine and Adrien’s… dynamic can be seen by other people.” She paused for a moment, looking away, before continuing, “And I think you communicate pretty well like this. Better than my anxiety-fuelled rambling anyway.”

Luka leaned in a little closer, drawing his finger down her chin and barely brushing her neck before pulling it away. “I thought it was kinda adorable,” he whispered.

Adrien coughed, pulling the two out of their haze. “Uh, I just wanted to apologise, Luka. I’m a very touchy-feely kinda person, and I keep forgetting that not everyone, y’know, hugs and kisses and just generally touch their friends as much as I do. I was… isolated as a kid, and I never really got the concept of personal space.” Now, didn’t that sound concerning?

He waved a hand at the nervous looking blonde. “That’s okay Adrien. I can get a bit touchy too – I shouldn’t have made assumptions. People have thought the same thing about Juleka and I before.” That had made for a very awkward conversation as they explained to the landlady no, they weren’t teenage lovers, but siblings who had decided to move in together.

“It’s all the nicknames,” Juleka said with a smirk, “Wasn’t it your dad you asked if he needed to design two wedding dresses, Adrien?”

Marinette groaned deeply and twisted to bury her face in Luka’s shoulder, hand grasping his jacket just in front of her face. “Don’t remind me,” she said, words half-muffled, “I can’t look Mr Agreste in the eye anymore!”

“Out of curiosity, where did the nicknames come from?” Luka asked, trying to keep a straight face as he wrapped an arm around Marinette’s waist, holding her to his side. Based on Juleka’s fake retch, he wasn’t very successful.

It was Adrien’s turn to blush, as he grabbed Kagami’s hand. “Well, like I said, I was an isolated kid. The only kind of unsupervised social interaction I got was when I played Ultimate Mecha Strike online. When I was thirteen, I met a player called Buginette03 – who tuned out to be Marinette – and we got pretty close, despite not sharing our real names. I’d ask Bug for advice when it came to my father, or later on, social stuff, and then she’d ask me for help when her anxiety spiked, or she started catastrophising.”

“And he’d use me as a sounding board for his awful pickup lines,” Marinette cut in, finally pulling her head away from Luka’s arm. It suddenly felt very cold. “You are such a cat-ch is a horrible excuse of both a line and a pun.”

“Hey! It worked with Kagami, didn’t it?”

Both Marinette and Kagami rolled their eyes. “Obviously, she took pity on you, kitty,” the tattooist said, deadpan.

��I found your determination in finding a successful line pitiful enough to be amusing.” Was Kagami’s response.

“Meowch!” Adrien said, insulted. “So cruel, ganging up on a poor cat!”

Marinette rolled her eyes and turned to face Luka properly. “Anyway, after almost a years worth of playing with each other and chatting, we decided to… reveal ourselves, I guess? I was so surprised when I realised that the snarky, goofy LostKittenOnTheCatwalk was actually in my class.”

Adrien slapped Kagami gently when she scoffed at his username. “Hey, I thought it was funny! I was thirteen!” He shook his head for a second. “But yeah, I was both surprised but not when I found out that Marinette was Buginette. Like, once I knew, I wondered how I could have thought it was anyone else.”

“We tried to date for a little bit,” Marinette said, taking up the narrative. “We thought that it was a ‘meant to be’ kind of thing, but it didn’t really work out.”

“We’re partners, but not? We work better as close friends, or siblings, rather than lovers,” Adrien looked at Marinette with a small smile. “I’m just glad that Marinette chose to remain friends with me. Probably not her smartest move,” he said with a shrug, “But oh well.”

Kagami flicked Adrien in the shoulder as Marinette pulled a pencil out nowhere and threw it. “Don’t get started on that again, chaton,” The tattooist said sternly. “We were both young, and stupid, and made you, stupid mistakes that we both learned from. And I will get Kagami to bash that into your thick head if I have to!”

Adrien waggled his eyebrows halfheartedly. “Not wanting to bruise me up yourself, m’lady?”

Marinette’s response was a raised eyebrow and crossed arms. “I think I’ll leave that dubious honour to Kagami. Besides, I already got to stab you.”

“Indeed,” Kagami said with a frown, “I am still waiting for an explanation of your tattoo, Adrien.”

“Well-look-at-the-time-gotta-GO!” Adrien was on his feet in an instant, sprinting out of the store. “See-ya-later-guys-bye!”

Kagami followed suit with a low bow, a murmur on how nice it was to meet them all, and then she was gone, smirk crossing her lips and sword held firmly in one hand. Luka wasn’t sure if he should be worried about Adrien’s safety or not.

His attention was pulled away when Marinette patted his arm. “They’ll be alright,” she soothed, “Kagami’s been stressing out over a fencing competition for a while, so Adrien’s been drawing out the whole ‘no you can’t see what my tattoo is’ thing so that she’ll actually take a break. Pretty sure this is the first time she’s left the dojo for something other than food or sleep for a week.”

“What is Adrien’s tattoo?” Rose asked, leaning forward.

“I’ve still got the concept page, if you’ll just give me a moment…” Marinette jumped up and rifled through her desk, returning with a thick, tattered at the edges sketchbook. She flicked it open to a drawing of a curled up dragon the size of Luka’s palm. It was Chinese style – all long body, short legs, fur crest running down it’s length, flowing whiskers – in various shades of black and red. The crest was a pale shade of yellow, contrasting with the dark gold underbelly. Lighter gold made up the claws and teeth. The eyes were, surprisingly, a rather normal brown. The dragon was curled into a circle, with it’s jaw open. Interestingly, it wasn’t breathing fire, but rather a stream of what appeared to be wind, portrayed in curling lines of grey that created clouds around the dragon. Scattered throughout were tiny gold stars.

“It’s beautiful, Marinette,” Luka breathed, glancing up at the blushing artist. “You’re incredibly skilled.”

Her stammers were covered up by Rose’s squeals. “It’s so detailed Marinette! I take it that the dragon is meant to be Kagami?”

“Ye-yeah. It’s inspired by a story about the dragon of the stars, which was one of Kagami’s favourite when she was little, and Adrien wanted to have it curled up over his heart to show how she both owns his heart and protects it – thus the clouds and kina scary expression.” Marinette traced over the drawing slowly. “Definitely one of my best works.”

“Just one of your best?” Luka asked lowly.

When Marinette looked up, a blush still tinted her cheeks, but there was a determined spark in her eye. “Yeah. There’s this messy haired florist who’s getting my best tattoo at some point, if he still has time to have it done?”

“I’m all yours Marinette.” And oh, how Luka hoped he could make that literal.

“Well, that’s our cue to leave,” Juleka said with a smirk, grasping a protesting Rose by the shoulders and pushing her towards the door. “I expect progress photo, big brother!”

He just waved a hand in her direction, not taking his eyes off Marinette’s. “Yeah, yeah, I will, you impatient brat.”

When the door shut behind them, Marinette extended one ink-stained hand. “So. Ready to get stabbed?”

Luka took it. “By you? Always.”

A few days later, after tattoos were drawn, inked, admired, wrapped and cared for, Luka appeared outside Charmed Ink. In his hands was a large bouquet of flowers – Pink orchids, larkspur, daffodils, cherry blossoms, blue morning glories and hyacinths. In the very centre was a single lilac.

For love beginning.

#miraculous ladybug fanfiction #of flowers and tattoo needles #lukanette #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #marinette x luka #tattoo artist/florist au #tattoo artist marinette

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solalunar-eclipse · 4 years ago

Text

Team Dark: A Holiday Special

Chapter One: Omega

Two | Three

Word count: about 5800 words

WARNING: this chapter contains entomophagy (eating insects)

Author's Note: I'm finally back! Sorry to make you all wait so long, but I really wanted to get this project out by December, so...here it is. I hope you all enjoy! (Also, apologies in advance for any bad formatting: Tumblr is being very uncooperative right now.)

...

It was, officially, a ‘lazy day’.

Team Dark was spending time at home, resting after the holiday frenzy of yesterday. Rouge had suddenly realized that they hadn’t decorated yet and that they all still needed to come up with present ideas for Team Sonic, so she and Shadow had spent the entire time in a sort of constant state of panic. Omega tried his best to help them, intermixed with a lot of gloating about his perfect memory and how he’d remembered to get a gift already.

He’d gotten punched halfway across the room for that one.

Now, a certain striped hedgehog was relaxing in his room, reading a book quietly. Until (of course) the peaceful silence was shattered by a loud blaring noise that sent him racing out the door and halfway down the stairs to their common area. Rouge was standing in the middle of the room, and shouted out to him, “Shadow! Come down here, I’m calling a group meeting!” Shadow winced and massaged one of his ears, his quills relaxing from their startled position as he walked over and sat down on the couch. He glowered at Rouge, who stood in front of him with the ‘team meeting airhorn’ still in hand. Despite his stare, she was still poised to blast again if Omega didn’t show up soon. Thankfully for Shadow’s hearing, Omega appeared quickly, albeit with much complaining about being dragged away from his targeting system calibrations. “Alright, Rouge, what’s all this about?” the hedgehog sighed, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. She smiled cautiously at the two of them. “Before I say anything, I want you guys to know that this offer is optional. If it’s too much for you, you don’t have to say yes.” Omega spun one of his hands around, making a slight whirring noise. “Please continue.” Rouge sat down on one end of the aforementioned couch, sinking into the cushions with a sigh. “Okay. Let’s see. I haven’t...ever talked to you guys about my family before, have I?” “I do not recall you initiating any such conversation.” Omega answered, at the same time as Shadow replied, “No….?” “Well. Considering everything...I kind of figured it’s about time I told you all my story.” She smiled again, but it was a little bittersweet. Shadow inched closer, caution sparking in his eyes. “Where to start...I mean, I have a mom, two sisters, a stepsister, a stepbrother, and a stepmom. And a dad too, I guess?” “You guess?” Omega asked skeptically, before being shot a fierce ‘no questions‘ look by Shadow. “It’s alright, hon.” Rouge said, putting a hand on the hedgehog’s shoulder. “I guess I should really start at the beginning.” “My dad was a cat and my mom is a bat- obviously, hah. My two officially related sisters are twins, three years younger than me. Right before they were born, though...my dad left. He took all the cash with him when he did. And, well. Left Mom with a barely-paid-for apartment and without a job. “We, uh. Heard later that he ran off with some lady from his job. Mom...didn’t take it too well.” Shadow’s eyes widened and Omega smacked a fist into one hand. “Rouge. Is your father, hypothetically, good at withstanding high-powered attacks from a hypothetical extremely destructive robot?” She snickered. “No, he’s not. But please don’t actually fight him, alright?” His hands crackling with chaos energy, Shadow hissed, “Rouge...I think I like his plan.” He bared his fangs as he spoke, looking furious. Rouge smiled gratefully at the both of them. “Thanks, guys, but he’s really not even worth your time. Let me keep going, okay?” Omega sat back, irritated at the lack of pulverizing Rouge’s father going on, and Shadow, reluctantly, allowed his chaos energy to dissipate. “Yeah, so he left, and that was a whole thing. Mom worked hard for us, but it just...wasn’t enough to make ends meet. I started my career of...relieving people of their fancy objects-” here she winked- “at the age of eleven to help out. Dropped out of school after eighth grade to start full-time thievery once I turned fourteen, and, yeah. I had to leave home, otherwise Mom and the twins would’ve been in real trouble. “I got busted after two whole years by the one and only Guardian Units of Nations- not a bad streak, if I do say so myself. Then, I started working for G.U.N. to pay my dues to society, and...you all know the rest after that. I still kept sending checks back to the family, though.” Shadow and Omega were both looking at her with unreadable expressions at this point. “I’ve stopped doing that now, actually, since Mom’s been with her girlfriend for like a year now. She’s dating this super sweet cardinal who gives her basically everything my dad never did- her name’s Camellia and she has two little kids from her last marriage. She’s been so good for Mom, honestly.

“I know it’s usually supposed to be this whole thing where the stepdaughter hates the stepmom, but that’s not for me. When I got the news, I was just like ‘Oh, so that’s why I’m pan’ - yeah, really- and now I’m cool with it. Plus, I’ve got two new little sibs, so it’s all fine.

“So...yeah. That’s my family.”

Shadow sat there in deep thought for a minute. “Your family sounds nice...I’m just sorry you had to go through all of that.” he said, when he finally spoke up.

“Yeah, they’re great- and it’s okay. I mean, if it wasn’t for all that, I never would’ve found you guys!” she said, looking much brighter now. “Now that you know about them, you wanna see some pictures?”

“Certainly.” Omega said, curious to see these people that Rouge cared for so deeply.

“Okay, so...these are my twin sisters, Midori and Neela.” she said, showing a social media post of two identical coffee-colored cats posing for a selfie. Even their fur markings were exactly the same, as well as the shade of their golden eyes. Despite the fact that they were felines, something about them looked an awful lot like Rouge. The shape of their faces, perhaps?

“And here’s Camellia and Mom.” A picture came up of a beaming, moderately curvy white bat and an equally overjoyed cardinal with their arms around each other in front of a beautiful sunset.

“This is Jade, my stepsister, she’s ten-” Rouge showed an image of a young goldfinch playing soccer, kicking the ball fiercely. “-and that’s Spark, my stepbrother.” A small cardinal with a grin as broad as his mother’s was swinging on a swing at a playground, his eyes bright with the excitement of childhood.

Shadow smiled, looking as though he were a mixture of genuine happiness and a little ever-present pain. “They all look wonderful, Rouge. I’m...honored...that you felt like you could show us this.”

“That wasn’t so bad, honestly- I’ve been wanting to figure out how to do that for a while.” the bat said. “This is going to be the hard part.”

Two pairs of eyes watched her expectantly.

She exhaled. “Every year...my family has this big, three-day Wintersweek party. And when I say big, I mean seven out of my mom’s nine siblings and their spouses and kids. Like, more than twenty guests big.”

Omega interrupted her there. “If your mother has nine siblings, why did none of them bother to help her when she needed them?”

Rouge looked at the floor, a little sad. “Four of them were in debt themselves, two live in crazy places around the world and didn’t really know, and...the other three tried to help. Mom refused to take more than she could pay back. They still helped do other stuff like watch us while Mom was working, though.”

“Understood. You may continue.” Omega replied, shifting into a slightly less confrontational pose.

“So. I always go to this party, except for those two years when I was on the run. This is going to be my third year back. And…

“I really, really, reallyreally want to introduce my family to my two best friends. You know, the ones who live with me and always have my back and mean the world to me.” she said, looking straight at Shadow and Omega. The former blushed a faint green at the praise, while the latter scoffed.

“Of course you wish to do so. Our excellence is unparalleled.”

Rouge smiled hopefully at them. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you guys, but...will you come to the party this year?”

Omega processed this for a minute. “How amenable is your family towards weapons of incredible destructive power being present in their home?”

“Well, see, about that….” Rouge muttered. “...you might have to empty your weapons cartridges before we go.”

“I am unsure if this is an acceptable outcome. I will respect your wishes to an extent, but I refuse to be without weaponry at my disposal.”

The bat thought for a moment. “...you can bring the flamethrower, but only if you put a PIN lock on it.”

“...”

Rouge stared him down. “There’s going to be kids there. Kids.”

“Accepted.” Omega said finally. His tone switched to a more triumphant note as he added, “I shall come and impress all of your relatives with my power.”

Shadow had reservations, too. “Won’t it be weird, having people who aren’t really your family there?”

“Shadow…” she said gently. “...you two are as close to me as my ‘real family’, and I want you to be there.”

Omega noted that Shadow was behaving in a manner that suggested he was ‘flustered’. He folded his arms tightly, lowered his head, and his mouth was pressed tightly into a line- an attempt to hide a smile. “...but won’t I take up too much space? An extra bed is more difficult to manage than an outlet.”

Rouge sighed sharply, becoming frustrated with his hesitance. “Mom has air mattresses up to her ears specifically for this, and she lives in Camellia’s house now, which has like ten bedrooms anyway. And you’re totally not going to be ‘a bother’ or anything, so don’t even say that. Mom basically screamed when she found out I was bringing people, and I mean that in a good way. She didn’t stop asking me questions for half an hour.”

“I…” Shadow said tentatively, close to giving in.

“If they’re ever too much for you, though, just feel free to hide in one of the back rooms. There’s plenty of places where you won’t be disturbed.”

The hedgehog sighed, but he didn’t look upset. “I suppose I can try, for you.”

“Yes!” Rouge shouted, kicking her legs before getting up and bouncing up and down. “Heck yeah! This is gonna be great!”

…

Over the next week, they discussed the party numerous times, and Rouge spent a lot of time sitting in the middle of mountains of wrapping paper, packaging presents for her family. Omega and Shadow had tried to help her, but she’d insisted that they not worry about it. “It’s my family,” she had said, waving them away. “You being there is already more than enough. I’d never ask anything else of you.”

Shadow had still made cupcakes, though. Omega helped with the icing.

On the first day of the event, they set off early, making the several hours’ drive from Central City up to Rouge’s family’s house (north of Empire City) so that they’d arrive just before lunch. Thinking of Shadow, Rouge didn’t want him in particular to get caught up in the early (and supposedly quite intense) greetings that her family usually participated in. Omega resolved to turn his force output down just a little- he didn’t want to accidentally break someone’s hand instead of merely shaking it in introduction.

Of course, this all meant they had to endure a four-hour car ride together, involving lots of fights over what music was playing, several different long-distance driving games, and multiple threats to toss one another out the window while moving at 80 mph or more.

So, generally uneventful for them.

...

When they arrived at the family’s house, the E-series robot decreased his optic zoom to 85% just to take the entire place in. It was truly an enormous building, built from what appeared to be stone but on closer inspection was...actually stone. Unexpected, yet impressive.

Omega was mildly uncertain about the heating capabilities of such a house, but at least it was structurally sound. He would have to decide on its defensibility later.

“Wow.” Shadow muttered, his eyes wide. “I know you said it had ten bedrooms, but...wow.”

“I said I wasn’t messing around with you!” Rouge laughed brightly. “This place is crazy big.”

As soon as they opened the door and the bat stepped inside, the team was greeted by a loud shout of “Rouge!” from various delighted family members.

Her immediate family rushed over first, giving her lots of hugs (while her parents relieved Omega of the numerous presents she’d had him carry). Her stepbrother jumped up and down, asking, “Did you bring a present for me? Do I get one? Do I?”

Rouge smiled at him, picking the little cardinal up and giving him a hug. “Of course you do. There’s one right over there!” she said, pointing towards the giant pile of presents.

Rouge’s mother came rushing back over at that, greeting her daughter with a tight embrace. “Oh!” she exclaimed, noticing Omega and Shadow standing by the door. “Are these your friends, Rouge? Come on, introduce us!”

The younger bat grinned. “Alright, so this is my partner-in-crime and our resident edgy goth, Shadow,” she said, gesturing towards the hedgehog. He responded with a glower at Rouge for the latter remark and a polite “Nice to meet you.” to the family.

“And this is my personal palanquin (just kidding, just kidding) and awesome destroyer of enemies, Omega.”

“Greetings, Rouge’s relatives.” Omega said, turning his volume down to a level that Rouge had termed ‘inside voice’. First impressions and all that.

After making their way through many, many more greetings- which Omega recorded to play back for name storage later- the team were finally seated at one of the large couches in the living room. Rouge, being Rouge, began to chat cheerfully with a couple of her family members, describing her latest escapades with the other two team members as well as her general social life.

Shadow and Omega didn’t speak much at first, but the latter in particular soon began to interrupt her stories to point out multiple inaccuracies (mostly Rouge underplaying how utterly awesome he was). He found that he quite enjoyed talking about their various adventures, in fact.

However, the three quickly discovered that some of Rouge’s relatives had...misunderstood her stories.

One of the many aunts- whose name Omega had not yet stored- spoke up. “Rouge, I know you said you were bringing friends, but you don’t have to be shy with us, sweetie. Shadow here seems like a very thoughtful boyfriend.”

Chaos ensued. Rouge choked on her water and Omega had to pound her on the back to help her breathe again. Meanwhile, Shadow seemed to have reflexively assumed a defensive, curled-up position, yet Omega could still make out a faint glow of green from within the black and red ball.

“No!” the bat shouted, once she’d regained her breath. “No, no, we’re only friends, really!”

Her aunt seemed unconvinced, as did several other guests.

Shadow slowly uncurled, prepared to back Rouge up- though he seemed to have temporarily forgotten how to speak in his shock. His mouth moved silently, and he seemed to be having trouble stringing together a coherent sentence.

“I am not romantically involved with Rouge in any way.” he began slowly. “I assure you, she means the world to me, but in a platonic manner. I am grateful to have a friend like her, but that is all we are to each other.”

Several other relatives decided to weigh in on this.

“He seems like a very polite friend!”

“Rouge, even if you’re not together, you had better hang on to this one.”

“He certainly likes you, and that’s what’s important.”

“It’s alright if you aren’t dating, honey!” Rouge’s mom added. “Healthy platonic relationships are very important.”

The younger bat shook her head, covering her eyes with her hand. “Guys, please.” she groaned, before looking over at Shadow.

The hybrid appeared to be surreptitiously trying to get in touch with his hedgehog heritage and burrow underneath the cushions by this point. Rouge grinned at him and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him back out into the open. “Come on, don’t make him embarrassed! It’s only day one, guys!”

Shadow cringed at that. Omega, meanwhile, was most definitely not recording any of this and storing it safely in his blackmail folder. Not at all.

…

A little later on, after everyone had eaten lunch, Omega (being the strongest on the team, despite Shadow’s protests otherwise) hauled their suitcases upstairs with little trouble. Rouge had been too busy talking to come with him, and Shadow looked as though he’d buried himself in a pile of cushions and probably wouldn’t be moved without extreme force, so he’d gone up alone.

Looking around the small room, he...found it quite tolerable, honestly. Sunlight streamed in through two medium-sized windows, and there were several empty floating shelves on the walls for their things, as well as a linen closet. There were only two beds in the room, since Omega just required a…

Ah, there it was. A charging port.

The robot was actually more pleased than he expected with the amount of mock evergreen, poinsettias, and other such ornaments in the room, though. He wasn’t much one for artistic expression himself (preferring to express his thoughts via some choice language and a few well-aimed rockets), but his friends were more...appreciative of such things and would likely enjoy the decoration.

Bored with examining the room already, he put down the suitcases and began to explore the house, trying to figure out what the floor plan looked like. He walked through all of the different rooms, enjoying himself while examining all of the possible defensive vantage points and the most optimal attack areas.

Sure, fighting was his job, but who said he couldn’t enjoy contingency planning? Mapping out attacks on his place of residence and figuring out how to best repel invaders was one of his favorite pastimes (right up there with visiting the mall with his friends).

However, once he had planned out about five different strategies, he realized that an hour had gone by and that it was probably a good idea to go check up on said friends.

After he carefully made his way back downstairs- trying to walk in a way that didn’t shake the house was difficult- he saw Rouge still chatting with some of her cousins and looking very happy. Shadow was barely even visible, curled up in a dark corner and alternating between reading and listening to the conversation. Everyone honestly seemed to be enjoying themselves.

However, there was one jarring thing about this warm, familial scene that Omega noticed.

The little children.

They were everywhere. Climbing their parents like a jungle gym, interrupting conversations left and right, running around underfoot, and generally causing mayhem in their wake. While Omega highly appreciated their impressive ability to cause confusion and chaos, he suspected that most of the other people here did not. Multiple guests looked ready to break something, and the robot was fully aware that Rouge’s family did not share his opinions on wanton destruction.

So, he decided to do something about this.

“SMALL CHILDREN,” he shouted, gaining the attention of the entire household. “I CHALLENGE YOU TO A SNOWBALL FIGHT.” That was an acceptable (and fun) form of violence, if he remembered correctly. Rouge certainly looked interested.

The children began to bounce around in various states of excitement, their energy somehow increasing exponentially at this prospect. “Whose team will you be on, mister?” Rouge’s stepbrother asked bravely.

“MY OWN. NONE OF YOU CAN DEFEAT ME.” Omega declared.

“Yeah, right!” an older child shouted. “Come on, guys, let’s go!”

The entire group rushed outside and began to build a snow fort for the upcoming attack. Most of the children were clearly struggling to organize, as half seemed to comprehend the need for a well-structured creation and half were just piling up snow like maniacs.

Meanwhile, Omega began to carefully form large building blocks out of the snow, building a formidable fortress (snow could be imposing, alright??). Once he was satisfied with his semicircle construction, he noticed that he still had a few minutes to wait before the children finished theirs. He spent this time making snowballs, as well as a few other...adjustments. When the children shouted out “Ready!”, he was more than prepared.

Since they were, again, Rouge’s relatives, he was very, very generous and gave them the first chance to fire. The children launched snowball after snowball, but he ducked behind his fort and only one found its mark. Once they were all out of ammunition and scrambling for more, he felt a smug sense of satisfaction.

It was time.

He loaded his arms full of snowballs…

And proceeded to launch them out of his machine gun ports at the children.

The kids scattered in all directions, shrieking with a mixture of fear and excitement. Omega, during their attack, had thought to make even more projectiles, turning what was supposed to be organized warfare into a one-sided rampage of destruction.

By now, Rouge had appeared on the deck and was currently howling with laughter, tears streaming down her face as she watched Omega launch his onslaught of snow. Shadow was standing at the doorway along with several others, a giant wicked grin spread across his face.

The E-series robot truly wished he could make that second expression right now. He turned to Rouge, watching her cackle…

...and immediately proceeded to fire a massive amount of snow at her as well. Her laughter transformed into a gasp of mock betrayal as she scooped up some of the offending substance, packing it into a weapon of her own. “Oh. It. Is. On.”, she hissed, shaking the snow off her wings.

Taking to the skies, she began a counterattack, distracting Omega with varied sizes of snowballs and forcing him to try and fire directly upwards. The children, realizing that they had a powerful ally in Rouge, began to make new projectiles themselves and threw them at him from all sides, until Omega finally found that he was struggling to handle the attack.

As he began to turn the tide again, he realized suddenly that this was entirely due to Rouge’s absence…

...and of course that was when a shadow fell over him.

Followed by a giant pile of snow.

He flailed in the icy trap as he struggled to regain his bearings. Once he had managed to clamber halfway out of the snow, he saw Rouge hovering above him. Her wings struggled to hold her in the air as she laughed again, and he noticed sulkily that she was holding a sheet.

“Cheater.” he muttered, indignant at having been trapped in such an unflattering manner.

“Cheating?! From the guy who launched snowballs like missiles? Really?” she shouted down to him good-naturedly, shaking her head. “Talk about hypocritical, Omega.”

The E-series robot still insisted on having the last laugh, though- he had to get out somehow, so he powered on all of his fans at full blast to clear away the snow. And if everyone was standing too close to avoid the resulting icy shower, well then that was their problem.

After that, though, everyone had to go inside and dry themselves off. Organics couldn’t handle being wet and cold very well, and Omega didn’t like the idea of his circuitry being shorted out. He felt a great sense of satisfaction at having established his status as the cool one on the very first day, though.

He spent a little more time with the young ones after that, playing several rounds of a popular card game called One with them and stacking up all of the plus-fours. The robot showed no mercy even in games.

Several children, evidently impressed by his prowess (or perhaps just in awe of the fact that he was a giant robot) begged him for promises that he would play more tomorrow, to which he quickly agreed. Not long after, to everyone’s disappointment, the kids’ parents came and practically dragged them to the dinner table, having shouted their names four or five times by this point.

As he walked into the dining room, Omega surveyed the area, focusing for a moment on the glow that the many candles gave off on the table. Fire was always a nice touch.

Looking further, he noticed that the wooden table alone was a formidable piece of furniture, filling the largest room in the house and forcing some chairs to squeeze up against the wall just to make space. And that wasn’t even mentioning the feast laid out on top of it. Omega ignored that for now in favor of sitting down on one side of Rouge after he saw her at the table. Looking over to her other side, he noticed Shadow surveying the food spread out on the table with what most would consider a completely blank look.

Omega, however, had experience with analyzing Shadow’s facial expressions, and noted the slight tension in his face as well as the fact that he was fidgeting with his silverware. Both he and Rouge had a good idea as to why, too- Shadow didn’t need any of this.

The hybrid had been created with incredible physical resilience, able to withstand the most arduous of conditions. This included a significant lack of food. He actually ate only about three times a week, and even then he only consumed small meals. While it was about time for him to eat today, the fact that there would be even more food over the next couple of days seemed to have produced a conundrum for him.

If he ate now, he wouldn’t need to later, which could be quite awkward, particularly when everybody else would. Omega thought through the options and decided that there were three main paths he could take: eat now and not later, not eat now but do so later, or possibly attempt to eat a little on all three days.

Rouge seemed to have realized this as well. Leaning over to Shadow, she whispered, “Whatever you want to do is fine, hon. It’s okay if you eat a lot over these few days- everyone else here will too. If you don’t want to, though, that’s cool- just make sure you have something at some point, alright?”

The robot watched as Shadow relaxed slightly at her understanding words. The change was almost imperceptible, but he now sat back in his chair instead of forward, and he’d stopped adjusting his place setting.

Once everyone was seated and they’d given a quick toast, the family began to dig in. Shadow sat back and waited for everyone else to take some food first- a wise choice. Rouge, on the other hand, entered the rather impressive food frenzy with a voracity that her team members knew all too well- she often complained that one of her few vices (aside from gems and other sparkly objects) was food.

Omega took this time to survey what he could see of the dishes, interested in finding out for himself what a proper Wintersweek meal looked like. He saw two dishes that appeared to be some sort of poultry, as well as bowls of finger food that looked like they were filled with crickets and beetles. Various platters of cooked vegetables in every color of the rainbow covered the table, some with sliced fruit available as well. Loaves of bread in multiple shapes and sizes were scattered throughout the presentation, accented by artfully placed centerpieces.

Quite honestly, it looked impressive.

Rouge had a little bit of everything on her plate, and was currently digging into a buttery baked potato like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Omega silently put his napkin next to her plate, the (sarcastic) message clear: You need this more than I do.

Shadow, meanwhile, had taken a little fruit, one piece of meat, and two slices of bread, but seemed very hesitant to eat much more than that. He looked to be quite invested in a conversation that several of the adults were having about their own teenage experiences, often leaning in slightly when a funny story came up.

Omega mostly kept an eye on his friends, while also half listening to the children talk about the latest video game that had become popular. It seemed to contain lots of fighting combined with some impressive storytelling, and the robot made a note of the game title for his own use later.

However, as he checked on Rouge again, making sure she hadn’t choked on her food, he noticed that she had left her plate to the side in favor of talking to her family about...wait.

Omega knew this story.

This was a story where he was walking through the halls of an abandoned underground hideout for a highly sophisticated ring of criminals (an assignment for their entire team). In which said diabolical criminals had installed multiple traps designed to keep people out. And these traps. Included magnets. That specifically messed up artificial intelligence.

Omega’s memory had been severely impaired by the event, but Shadow and Rouge told him later that they had discovered him stumbling around the main hub of the base, rambling out loud about things as ridiculous as current weather patterns and- he shuddered internally- kittens. He was eternally grateful for this memory loss, though, as the two had apparently, instead of taking this seriously, dissolved into helpless laughter on the spot.

Of course, they had taken him to Tails to get fixed up. But not until after Rouge had filmed another five minutes or so of him acting absolutely loopy while their laughter, punctuated with the occasional gasp for breath, filled the background.

And she was just getting to the part where they found him now-!

The E-series robot shot out of his chair and clamped a hand over Rouge’s mouth, turning his volume low and hissing “Don’t you dare.” in her ear.

Unfortunately, this only added to everyone else’s interest, as Rouge began to cackle loudly at Omega’s evident embarrassment and her memory of the event. “Tell us! Tell us!” Camellia (Rouge’s stepmother) cried out, clapping her hands and looking for all the world like a child who had just been handed a chocolate bar.

“Help me, Shadow!” Rouge shouted through the steel grip on her face, slurring her words with laughter. The hybrid, happy to take a break from the crowded room and equally happy to shame Omega, pried the robot off of Rouge and somehow managed to drag him out of the room as everyone now leaned in to hear her finish the story.

“So we were really worried, right? Since we hadn’t heard anything? And then we-”

Shadow shut the door on her voice and smirked at Omega, but there was a tinge of real happiness in his expression. “It’s alright, Omega. She doesn’t actually want you to feel bad, you know.”

“That’s what you say.” he scoffed. “Rouge isn’t in there telling them about the time you didn’t eat for a month on a mission and then binge-”

“Alright, alright!” Shadow groaned. “I get it, but let’s let her have fun, alright? This is her family, after all.”

“Fine.” Omega grumbled. “But I will get you back for this.”

“Sure you will.” Shadow raised an eyebrow at him.

This led to a fierce staring match/arm-wrestling battle and subsequent argument over who won, immediately followed by Omega pulling out his phone and the two watching a recently popular obstacle course show. Of course, they both agreed that they could do far better than any of the contestants.

Eventually, though, as the evening wore on, the two joined back up with Rouge to head to their room. Shadow took a hot shower while Rouge changed into her favorite pajamas- they were soft and white with little pink hearts all over (her favorite colors).

She yawned loudly just as the hybrid walked in, already wrapped in a blanket and pulling on some plain black nightwear. He didn’t really need it, but his fifty-year stint in what was essentially a superpowered freezer had left him with a distinct dislike for the cold.

Omega had already plugged into the outlet and begun to charge, but yet…”Why don’t I get a blanket?”

“What the heck d’ you want one for?” Rouge muttered, already exhausted.

“Well, you both have them.” he muttered sulkily, glowering at them from his corner of the room.

The bat opened up the closet in the room, looking up at the top shelf. “Shadow, c’mere. I can’t reach this thing by myself.”

He walked over quickly, not appearing to be tired at all. Omega, as always, knew better, and saw the fatigue from the long day that he tried to hide behind his “Ultimate Lifeform” title.

Rouge jumped onto his shoulders in a practiced movement, snatching a pale purple fluffy blanket from the shelf and flinging it half-heartedly at Omega. “There’s your blanket.” she declared, before jumping straight from Shadow to her bed.

She settled into her usual sleeping position, with her feet hooked over the headboard and her face and pillow about halfway down the bed. It wasn’t a typical behavior for most, but she was a bat, after all. “‘Night, guys.” she murmured, already half asleep.

Shadow carefully lifted his blankets and slid under them, trying to keep them as neat as possible. The hedgehog shifted into a half-curled position, displaying his quills to the world and protecting his vulnerable legs and chest. “Sleep well, Rouge. Goodnight, Omega.” he said softly, still trying to stay awake.

“Good night.” the robot replied.

Omega kept an eye on his teammates, the room lit only by a patch of moonlight from the window. He listened to Rouge’s slight snoring, and watched as Shadow’s eyes slowly closed and his breathing evened out.

The robot was always cautious about shifting into his own form of ‘sleep’, but reminded himself that this was not enemy territory. This was Rouge’s family’s house, and they were all safe.

Still, he watched his friends sleep peacefully for a while longer. Then, he selected low power mode from his menu of choices and allowed his eyes to go dark.

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #team dark #team dark: a holiday special #thought i'd give rouge a big family to make up for shadow & omega having none #she still had a rough childhood though...#:(#90% of omega's 'contingency planning' was definitely fantasizing about awesome battle scenes #shadow is moderately sad as always #hope you enjoyed!!#sol's fanfiction

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doomstypewriter · 5 years ago

Text

Warmth

I’m back with some Moceit because, god, the new video shook me.

AO3

Summary:

Patton wants to say something very important to Janus.

What anyone can get from that in the end is that he is very gay and in panic and should probably just talk things out with Roman.

It would have made it easy if Patton had clearly taken a side in his and Roman’s vicious back-and-forth. But he’d mostly maintained himself neutral. Not to mention how laughably good it had felt to hear him imply he was right. And now that. No implications. Outright appreciation. Why did warmth feel so unbecoming? “What?” he answered in a tiny voice shoved in the middle of an exhalation. His face puckered ever-so-slightly. Yearning. It would have been more useful to keep it as a thought

Word count:

1690

TW:

Maybe unsympathetic Roman, but this is all from Janus' point of view (the general posture is neutral), Janus being a sarcastic bitch, a mention of Remus doing some whacky stuff but nothing mayor, mild arguing but gets sorted out. (Nothing more I can think of, still, if you do find something, please tell me).

Warmth

“So, Janus…” Patton began to speak feeling his way around.

He saw a change coming, on Thomas’ position regarding the dark sides and how that would affect them all. He had already taken a chance with Virgil at the time. He’d never regret that choice. Maybe that was the reason why he had gone there.

“Yes, that’s my name, don’t wear it out so soon, you just found out about it” answered Janus, leaning his elbow on the back of his left hand, while the right one bent in a dramatic gesture, almost touching his shoulder.

Janus looked everywhere except at him. In all honesty, he found everything about that situation perfectly comfortable and, no, the interaction was not at all forced nor the silence awkward.

“By all means, do stay there just standing” after hearing this Patton made a sound of confusion, as if he was frowning with his voice. Because, heaven knows he’d sooner pass out than frown in public. As amusing as that mental image was, he had to clarify it, otherwise Mr. Nice over there would never cut to the chase. “By that I mean that we both got stuff to do, and, even though I enjoy your company so, so much, I have complots to plan and Remus won’t get unburied by himself; I imagine you’ll have cookies to bake, camp songs to sing or something equally vital for this world”.

Patton took a breath. For a moment it seemed as it a confession was about to happen, something trascendental, information of a caliber that changes lives, ideas. Not yet.

A small, apparently unrelated, laugh escaped him.

“I didn’t mean to make you nervous”.

This time, Janus did look at him straight in the eye. Patton felt he had been shoved under the bus of his gaze, it was not painful, but quite intimidating. Which was weird because, if Virgil was anything to go by, Janus had the tendency to shove people down a flight of stairs, not busses. Still, he played dumb and kept his goofy facade on.

“Nervous?” the eyebrow of Janus’ human side raised to a height that could have been a mile, in a road trip straight to an expression of dubiousness. What a time on the cat-bus, or, well, snake-bus.

He could have explained he’d come to realise that Janus had the pesky habit of deflecting with sass and not-so-subtle melodrama when confronted with something he did not like or when he got nervous. After all, his way of acting centered around getting what he disliked out of sight. Patton knew this first hand. Not because he knew Janus well, rather, due to the fact that he knew himself well enough. There are things one prefers to ignore.

Patton had preferred to ignore the familiarity in Janus’ purpose and his, their personalities and motivations; which wasn’t exactly neat, being a dad and all.

Perhaps it was time to step forward.

To grow up.

“I didn’t say it before and I think it’s not right for me to not let you know--”.

Pursing his lips in an almost duckface, the reptile looked done with everything, and he hadn’t even heard the entire sentence. He rolled his eyes and raised his eyebrows, surprisingly proving that more of a bitch-face was indeed possible.

“The entire interaction has been a delight and all, but let’s cut it here. If this is about Royal Pains then you don’t need to ‘let me know’ anything, he made himself clear, contrary to popular belief snakes are not deaf”.

“That was not what I wanted to say” and, in all honesty, he would have rather not have Janus mention it. Now he was morally compelled to address the elephant in the room. He placed his hands on his hips to give himself an air of authority. “But both Roman and you said pretty nasty things and should go apologise each other”.

“What a pity, there’s something in all of that jazz about talking to playground bullies that does not appeal to me. If I wanted to speak to children I’d just sit with Remus all day”.

Patton frowned.

That didn’t throw Janus off, and, by no means it made him want to comfort him to stop him from being upset. To suggest that would be ridiculous. But, if, let’s say, he did want to provide him with some degree of support, and this is one hundred percent hypothetical, he would hug him. Not that he’d ever wondered about how that would feel like.

“Do you think it is okay to just leave Roman feeling awful because you feel awful too?” Patton’s tone was kind as always, but his words did not tell the same story. “It might seem ‘fair’ but it’s not right. Using some other people’s vulnerabilities just because you’re angry, it is not even making you feel better. It only makes everyone more angry and sad. You too. Specially since you need to hear an apology as badly as Roman does--”

“What would you know about me? I have told you my name, that’s about it. And.what.a.party.that.was. I am so thrilled that when I am at my most vulnerable, when I let my guard low cause I think: come on Janus, maybe it’s worth it, you could finally be heard and actually do your job… sorry, NO!” as if to further his point, or, most likely, his anger, he added a single fake laugh. “Someone has to barge in and make me feel like an absolute idiot for not hiding something for once. How is it that when Roman repeatedly uses others people’s vulnerabilities against people, for the sake of satiating his own need for self-importance, you turn a blind eye on it; but, when I do it I must be reprimanded? You’re all so self-righteous. Let me be the villain if needed be. I don’t need no apologies because neglecting the validation of the importance of my role is something I have always been able to handle. I don’t want your praise. Telling you my name is the last thing--”

“Thank you”.

The air left his lungs in a rush. All determination carried within his words deflated like a soufflè that had had the oven door opened too soon. A part of him bent to the gut punch of that sentence. He wanted to pry the mask of his eye caps. Cry. Always thinking that hearing it would leave him satisfied, proud, not disgruntled. Nevermind that quiet voice in the back of his head, screaming: yes! Finally! Finally.

“What?” he answered in a tiny voice shoved in the middle of an exhalation. His face puckered ever-so-slightly. Yearning. It would have been more useful to keep it as a thought.

“That is what I came here to tell you. I forgot to say so before, with all fuzz, taking care of Roman and Thomas… I’m a busy dad, but I have to give an example, and when someone does something nice for you, you say thank you. I apologised so many times I forgot to say it more”.

“You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do it for you. Caring for Thomas… I was just doing my job”.

“Yeah, but you did one snek of a job,” Patton laughed in a poor effort to break the tension between them. Only to fall back into the saccharine section of his disgustingly and not-at-all-endearing registre.“Janus, and it’s not okay to ignore that. Also… you kinda saved me”.

Validation was something, huh.

“You’re welcome, I guess”.

It seemed that almost giving him a heart-attack was not enough. Patton had zero self-control and simply threw himself at Janus to capture him in a constraining hug. Who was the albino boa constrictor here?

Not only did Patton smell like vanilla, cinnamon and a taint of chocolate, he was also oven-level of warm. The pillow-like feeling to his embrace would have made anyone sink in like a baby.

Holy shit.

If it hadn’t been so sudden Janus would have lost any shred of dignity and poise he’d hope to keep.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you nervous again” Patton disentangled himself from the other, seeing no reciprocation occuring. Maybe he should just change the subject and leave.

That had been horrible. Janus would forever deny the impulse to just melt Patton had so thoughtfully gifted him with.

“I know Roman isn’t always... the kindest, but he really doesn’t mean it. He’ll change his mind about you eventually. I hope you can forgive each other then”.

Janus looked at him with intensity.

“I… need time”.

“That is okay” he paused, considering. He might as well just take the second cookie. Fingers extended, because crossing them would make it really hard for him to grab the cookie, heh. “I’m not the smartest one, but if you ever need anything, I make really good muffins and always listen. You don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to, you can say you came over because it’s warm”.

“Only in for white lies. Lacks style, but it might make you slightly tolerable”.

It was a bit sad to hear. Patton had hoped for a different kind of answer, but if Janus didn’t want to confide in him that couldn’t be forced. He’d have to give him some space and prove his good intentions one little step at a time.

“Well, this frog is getting back to his pond. I’ll let you get back--”

“I won’t consider your offer”.

Oh?

Oh!

Patton’s face lit up in the brightest of smiles.

‘Great timing’ thought Janus. So opportune to just keep on nagging him towards a heart-attack. Wonderful.

“Oh, Janus” said Patton, just before he left.

“What?” he asked, yet again.

“It is a lovely name”.

Taglist:

@girl-with-many-fandoms , @what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me , @snek-snacc , @oddpopsicle , @your-boi-leon , @many-fandoms-trash , @rubixn , @theantisocialghost

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vlueyellow · 5 years ago

Text

The story of Draco NOT being a disaster in the kitchen and how Harry fell in love with him for that

This turned out a lot longer than I thought but I’m actually really happy with it, so enjoy some Drarry with Draco&Hermione friendship!

I mean, come on, Draco was master at potions. You really think he would be a disaster in the kitchen??? Like ok, he might take a while to get used to the difference between the two, like how there’s no cauldron but that thing called an oven was kinda dope, but he would be a natural at it still. Especially the sweet kitchen. Baking and different desserts that require specific techniques would be right up his alley.

After the war when Draco was in house arrest (luckily not in Azkaban, thank you very much Scarhead) he had access to muggle books, and when he found a cookbook, he went a little overboard. So, for a whole year, he did nothing but baking and cooking and experimenting. And when his house arrest was up, he moved to muggle London for peace and quiet and opened a bakery. It was a success, and Draco was swamped with customers. See? He wasn’t a fucking disaster.

After a few years he had completely left the wizarding world. Why would he stay? Muggles were nice, the treated him well, unlike 99.999% of the magic people. So, time moved on and he finally opened a second bakery downtown because the first one was so successful. He still personally ran his small shop in the outskirt of London.

He hadn’t seen any wizards in years, except his mother, Pansy, Blaise and his therapist, which was exactly how he wanted it.

So, when a certain Hermione Granger popped in a Saturday morning with a toddler by the hand, he was torn. Granger seemed torn and confused, glancing back at the door as if considering to leave, but of course, she striked up a conversation about what a small world they lived in because she was Granger.

But Draco knew she was just doing it to be polite and fill the tense silence. He saw she was visibly uncomfortable, eyes scanning nervously around the room and the way she held her child just a little bit closer, but he understood and rolled his sleeve down when the young girl looked a little too close. He owed her that much.

(His therapist has told him to embrace the compliments from the muggles who just saw a tattoo, not a dark mark, so he had made a habit of rolling his sleeves up to his elbow even if he hated it at the beginning. Now, he only had them rolled down on bad days)

He saw Granger’s eyes linger on the movement, on his arm and her polite, uncomfortable smile disappeared. His own polite smile vanished as well. Draco was expecting her to pay quickly and leave, if not just storm out, but Granger shut down the polite small talk conversation and asked him how he was. Asked him how he ended up in muggle London, how he discovered his passion for baking. Asked him everything he didn’t think he would ever be asked again. Least of all by an old classmate.

Taken back, he told her. Told her how his dad, even though in Azkaban, disowned him when he moved to muggle London. Told her how he didn’t care and how his mum still supported him. Told her about his new best friend, a muggle girl who lived across from him called Laura and about his two cats called Lupin and Minerva, named after his favourite teachers at Hogwarts (her eyebrows almost left her head when he told her this and it felt nice to surprise). And even though he talked about things that really didn’t matter, she listened.

"How long have you been living here?" She asked, embarrassed. "You know, in muggle-"

"6 years." He smiled.

(More under the cut)

(Or read on ao3)

Granger went home with her kid with a promise to return because Draco's chocolate raspberry cupcakes were just that good.

Life moved on all the same, except Granger, who slowly became Hermione, visited every Saturday morning on her way to the Weekly Weasley Saturday Lunch. Apparently, his cakes and pastries were essential now.

But Draco knew she didn’t tell them where she bought them. And even though the thought stung a bit, he didn’t think that them knowing they ate sweets and cakes from a death eater every Saturday would do them any good.

That idea was then ruined when one day Granger (Hermione) brought her lovely husband along.

Draco was nervous. He knew that Ron knew that Hermione got that awful scar on her forearm on the floor in his childhood home. He hadn’t forgiven himself for that even though Hermione showed him the cover-up tattoo of sunflowers she got a few years back. She had recommended the place she went to, made him write it down even.

Ron eyed him up and down, jaw tense when Hermione dragged him into the shop. Draco ducked his head, greeting Hermione and Rose as usual and nodded his head short at Ron. He didn’t know if Ron would like it if he spoke to him.

Ron had Rose placed on his hip, frown still present on his face when he saw his young daughter call for Draco, laughing when the blonde asked her where she got her pretty dress from.

Draco could sense the tension coming from Ron and turned away from Rose to ask Hermione what he can do for her.

The small talk was the same as always. Hermione asked him how the shop was holding up and Draco asks about the problem at the Ministry that gave her sleepless nights.

It wasn’t until Draco reached over the counter to give Rose her usual free chocolate biscuit that Ron spoke.

He took a step back, pulling Rose away from Draco’s hand, which the toddler was already reaching for.

“No thank you.”

Draco flinched back and retreated his hand. Rose started crying.

“Ron,” Hermione snapped, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

She had that look in her eyes that made Aunt Bellatrix look almost nice.

“No, you might trust him but I sure as hell don’t.” Ron snapped back and Rose cried louder.

“It’s okay, Hermione-”

“No, you’ve been nothing but nice to me and Rosie,” She said, louder this time and Draco’s eyes softens. “you're my friend," she said sharply at Draco, "and you are going to apologize and go wait outside." She turned to Ron this time.

Ron scowls and sighed but opened his mouth either way.

But Draco was faster.

"It's okay, Weasley, I understand."

"No, it's not okay, Draco-"

"Please Hermione, it really is, I understand and it's no problem." He looked at Ron, who tightened his jaw once again, nodded and turned around to leave, Rose still crying silently on his hip. She didn’t get her biscuit.

Hermione was left staring at him with angry eyes. Draco sighed and stared back.

"I'll talk to him."

"No, you won't. He didn't do anything wrong."

Hermione huffed, walking around the counter to stand across from him. She had been behind the counter a number of 4 times now. "Didn't do anything wrong?! Draco, you shouldn't-"

Draco held up a hand. "My family hurt his family."

Hermione went silent, turning her frustrated gaze downward.

"I hurt his family." Draco brushed a lock of bushy dark hair behind her ear and frowned. "I hurt you, didn't I?" Hermione reached out and took his hand. "It's perfectly understandable that he didn’t like or trust me. Let alone to give free treats to his child."

When Hermione looked up, she had glistening eyes. "But you apologized and you've changed. You don't deserve this." She sniffled and Draco pulled her in for a hug.

They stood there for a long time until Hermione pulled away and said; "Come to my baby shower, please?"

"Baby shower?"

"It’s a muggle thing you host when you’re pregnant."

“Yes, I know what it is, it’s just-” Draco cut himself off and smiled, pulling her in for a hug once more. "Darling, that's amazing! Congratulations," Hermione laughed wetly.

"So, you'll come?" She said, looking up at him. “I want you to be there.”

Draco sighed, glancing outside at Ron who seemed to be rocking Rose back and forth still. He turned back to Hermione. "I don't think that's a good idea," the smile on her lips disappeared. "But I'll make you a cake, your favourite." He said instead and she sighed but nodded at him.

"It's a boy." She said.

"I'll make it blue then."

"No, make it yellow, it's more neutral.”

“Of course, you can stop by anytime and we’ll have dinner to celebrate okay?”

Hermione smiled. “Okay, Draco.”

And then life went on. And Hermione got more and more pregnant. She still stopped by in the shop and by now also showing up unannounced on his doorstep when she needed a break from the world or when Ron got in that “protective husband/father mode that’s kinda sexist but not really because he means well” as Hermione called it. Draco knew she felt bad after she said stuff like that because Ron was the most perfect husband and father she could ask for.

It wasn’t until she was about 8 months along that the routine broke again.

It was a Sunday morning and Draco was up early to finish a fresh load of blueberry tarts. It was 07:35 am and he was not opening for another hour or so, but then there was a knock at the door.

He considered ignoring it, but as it continued he realized he probably couldn’t.

So he walked to the front, dishtowel thrown over his shoulder and apron tied around his waist. He had flour all over him and his semi-long hair, which normally rested just above his shoulders, was tied into a bun. He didn’t really desire any human interaction right now but he didn’t seem to have a choice.

He regretted his decision not to ignore the knocking as soon as he saw who was standing on the other side of the see-through glass door.

Harry Potter, looking 7 years older since Draco last saw him, was standing outside his bakery, hands stuffed into his pockets and shoulders high. He looked cold.

What did he want? How did he know Draco was here? Had Hermione told him?

Last night was one of the bad ones (the ones where he lies awake because he keeps reliving everything he didn’t want to remember every time he closes his eyes, so instead he tabs his fingers on the walls or cleans or cries into the fur of his cats. It’s the nights where he only manages to dose off in the bathtub, despite the risk of becoming sick again because no warming spell can heat up water for a whole night. It’s also the nights he came up with his greatest recipes because baking was the only thing not reminding him of everything he used to be. But most of all, it’s the nights where he covers his mirrors with sheets and hides his wand in the back of his closet) and he couldn’t handle being yelled at or told off right now.

So, he straightened himself, dusted his hands off and walked over to open the door. Only cracking it open for his head to poke out.

“How can I help you?” He said, like it isn’t The Boy Who Lived Twice standing outside his shop.

Potter snapped his head up in surprise. His hair was still a mess and his glasses look the same, only these ones had a golden frame instead of the familiar silver. Somehow over the last 7 years, his eyes had become greener. Maybe it was the gold.

“Malfoy,” He breathed, and his cheeks are pink. “Hi.”

“I’m not open yet,” Draco said because he didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t want to talk to Potter.

Potter looked down at his boots. “Er- yes I know, but uhm-” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a piece of parchment. He skimmed it and looked up again. “Well, ‘Mione isn’t feeling all that well, you know, with the pregnancy and all, morning sickness I think, though I’m not really sure-”

“She sent you?” Draco interrupted Potter’s rambling, confused and concerned at the same time.

Potter still looked stunned. “Yes, she did.”

Draco’s frown deepened. “Is she alright? She could’ve called me.”

Potter tilted his head. “Called? You have a- ?” He shook his head, cutting himself off. “Nevermind. Yes, she was alright, she was just really tired and can’t really get up or put her shoes on anymore, so she sent me since Ron was on a mission right now-”

“Yes, I know, he should be back next Friday.”

Surprise spread on Potter’s face. “...Yes exactly.” He said, glancing between Draco’s face and his apron. Draco just wanted this over with.

“What does she need?” Draco sighed, thinking of Hermione and her big round belly and how she whined all the time because her feet were cold, and pulled the door open. he was doing this for her but she was still paying for it later when she was a lot less pregnant.

Potter stared at him in confusion before snapping out of it and following him inside the bakery. “How do you-”

“Sweet or salty?” He said, walking around the counter.

Potter followed, looking down at the parchment again. “Sweet, I think? Something with fruit. That’s all she was written.” He looked at the display with all the different cakes and pastries before pointing at the peach cobbler. “She likes peach, so maybe-”

“No, she’ll bloody throw up in ten seconds. Honestly, Potter, do you even know your best friend?” Draco snapped before he can regret it. Flashbacks of Hogwarts filled his mind and he pushed them aside. he was not the hissing bully anymore, he should have known better. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t snap at you. Her preferences change all the time.”

Potter seemed frozen for a few seconds as Draco cursed himself for falling back into old habits he’d long wanted to forget. But then he scratched his head and shrugged. “That’s alright, you probably saved my arse from a scolding from a pregnant Minister.” He chuckled awkwardly. Uncomfortably. “What do you suggest then?”

Draco sighed, looking at what he had displayed and thought about what he had ready in the back.

“I’ll be right back.” He said, walking into the back room where the baking happened. He picked up two blueberry muffins because he knew they are easy on her stomach. He also picked one piece of the freshly baked blueberry tarts and two Nutella filled croissants. Then he walked back out.

As he wrapped it all up in brown paper bags, he spotted the chocolate biscuits in the corner of his eye. He grabbed three of them for Rose, adding them to the bag.

When he was done, he looked up at Potter who just seemed to be stuck in a confused, frozen gaze.

Draco pretended he didn’t see it and continued. “If you pass a grocery store on the way pick up some fresh apples. Green, not red. She’ll thank you later.”

Draco then handed over the brown paper bag filled with his baking. He held it for a good 5 seconds before Potter’s head snapped up and reached out to take it.

“Uh- great, thanks,” Potter muttered to the walls. “Uhm, right, how much do I- ?”

“No, Hermione eats for free here, you’re not paying for anything,” Draco said firmly. “Tell her I said hi and that I’m looking forward to our dinner next Thursday.”

Potter cleared his throat. “Right, yes, I will, uhm, good day to you.” He said then walking back to the door.

Draco smiled weakly. “Good day to you too, Potter.”

Potter returned the small smile as he opened the door. he was almost out of the shop when he held the door open, peeking his head inside and said; “it was good to see you, Malfoy.”

And then he was gone, leaving Draco confused and tingly.

It was weird though. Because he came back. A lot. Always on Hermione’s request. Which isn’t that weird because Draco spoke on the phone with her and it was true, she really couldn’t move, and Ron was still working a lot. Draco had no idea what Harry did for a living to be able to pick up Hermione’s favourite cakes every other day at shit o’clock in the morning.

So, Draco slowly got used to seeing Potter in the early hours of the morning before he was even open. Their exchanges were quick because Draco usually already had a bag ready with what he knew Hermione wanted and he still refused to let Potter pay. But they still saw each other often.

But about two weeks before Hermione was due Potter showed up late. It was 10:23 and Draco had been open for almost an hour and there was still no sign of the other man.

He considered calling Hermione when the door swung open, a flushed panting Potter standing in the middle of his shop. By now, the tables around the bakery were filled with people enjoying their morning coffee and they all looked up at the newly arrived guest.

Pretending nothing had happened Potter walked casually over to the counter where Draco was in the middle of taking an order from an elderly woman. Draco ignored him until it was his turn.

“You’re late,” He mumbled.

“Sorry, was that a problem?” Draco was just about to snap back when he realized Potter was being genuine.

Clearing his throat, Draco turned around to get the bag filled with cheesecake this time. “Uhm- no, sorry, let me just go get the bag-”

But as he turned his elbow hit the tip jar on the corner of the counter, sending it straight to the floor where it cracked. Coins everywhere.

Draco groaned, reaching down to start collecting the little tip that had been in the jar, careful not to cut himself, when he saw Potter in the corner of his eye taking his wand out. He jumped to his feet.

“No don’t!” He whisper-yelled at the shorter man as he grabbed onto his wand and pushed it downwards. “Are you crazy?!”

Potter stumbled back, away from Draco and frowned. “What? I was just trying to help, I don’t know what-”

“You are surrounded by muggles, you idiot!” Draco whisper-yelled again.

Genuine confusion crossed Potter’s face. “What?”

“This was a muggle bakery, Potter.” He said under his breath. “I don’t allow magic in here so if you can please put your wand away.”

“You don’t- “ Potter paused. “What?”

Draco groaned, crouching down to clean the mess up. “What part of that didn’t you understand?” He said, annoyed. "Didn't Hermione tell you?"

Potter stood still for a while before he too crouched down to help. "No," he muttered mostly to himself. "But then how do you bake?”

Draco shot him an offended look before answering. “How do you bake without magic? It’s not that fucking hard, Potter.”

Potter stayed silent after that, stiffly helping Draco pick of the shards of glass. He fetched a coffee cup and put the remaining coins in it and placed it on the table.

Draco stood up, dusted himself off and went to pick up the cake Potter came here for in the first place.

"Er- I'll tell her you said hi," Potter said and moved towards the door.

"Great, yes- great," Draco said, glancing outside. It's raining a lot now. He looked at Potter again. Bloody idiot, only wearing a denim jacket over a T-shirt. "Wait a second," he interrupted Potter grabbing the door.

He ran to the back, picked up his umbrella.

When Draco handed it over to him, Potter just stared at him.

Groaning, Draco grabbed his forearm, guiding his hand to take the umbrella. "Take it, you'll get soaked in minutes."

Potter glanced down as if he only just realized he was holding Draco's umbrella. He snapped his head back up. "No, really it's fine-"

"Merlin, just take it, Potter."

He blinked. "Okay." And then he was out the door.

It only took a week before Draco got a phone call from a very panicky Hermione at one in the morning, stating that she was very much in labor.

It wasn’t the first time Draco had gotten such a call, but this time he knew it could actually be serious.

Ron was out of town for two days, because the baby wasn’t due for another week. Hermione had been anxious but had sent her husband off despite his protests. She knew how much they both valued work and thought it would be fine.

It clearly wasn’t.

Draco was already putting on his jacket, phone held by his shoulder and pressed to his ear. “Hermione, I’m coming over, okay? Maybe it’s nothing, last time it was just Braxton hicks, remember?”

Over the phone, Hermione clearly wasn’t agreeing with him because she was crying (She did that a lot recently).

“No! This feels weird, Draco. Weirder than the other times, I know this was it, I can feel it.” She said, sniffling. “Oh god, and Ron isn’t back until tomorrow night, he was supposed to be here! And Rosie was sleeping and I can’t-”

“Hey, Hermione, calm down,” Draco said. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes and I’ll take you and Rose to the hospital okay? We’ll get you checked up and it’s all going to be fine.”

Hermione sniffled again. She was adorable. “Okay, please hurry, I’ll call Harry.”

Draco paused for a moment but quickly swallowed his surprise. Harry was Hermione’s best friend, of course, she was gonna call him. “Yes, do that, we’ll take care of everything, okay?”

An hour later, Draco and Harry were walking along the hospital corridor, Hermione holding both their hands. The Weasleys had picked up Rose and Harry had called Ron, who apparently was on his way, but wouldn’t arrive until a few hours.

The doctor said walking helped the process along, so here they were, the three of them, just walking.

“This was awful,” Hermione said, clenching his hand harder than painless. “Why isn’t Ron here yet?”

“He’s doing everything he can,” Said Harry, who had been avoiding Draco’s gaze since they arrived at the hospital. “He’ll be here in a few hours, he promised.”

6 hours later little Hugo was born. Ron arrived on time, Hermione was asleep. Everything was fine.

Except Draco who hadn’t slept since he picked up the phone in the middle of the night. He was exhausted, both from lack of sleep and crying alongside Hermione because Hugo was just so cute, even with red hair, and he was so proud of her. But now he needed to go home.

He was walking to his car when a voice stopped him.

“Malfoy!” He turned around, watching Potter jogging across the parking lot. “Hey wait up.”

Draco leaned against his car, fighting his eyes. “What was it, Potter? I’m very much looking forward to going home now.”

Potter smirked. “Yes, I can see that. Which was why I’m driving you.”

Draco paused, eyes widening. “Excuse me?”

“Well, Ron said you looked like dead weight and asked me to drive you home, so you didn’t crash and die.” He said with a chuckle.

Draco continued to look baffled. “Ron said that?”

“Yes.”

“Why aren’t you too tired to drive?” Draco said, sceptical.

Potter shrugged. “Never been much of a sleeper, I guess.”

Draco considered it for a moment. He was too tired to drive, no doubt about it. But it was Potter.

“How will you get home then?” He asked.

Potter smirked again. It was getting annoying. “I assume there’s an alley I can apparate discretely back to my own place.” He said casually.

Draco paused. “Right, magic.” He deadpanned. “Haven’t done that in years. Does it still feel horrible? Like a rollercoaster?”

The other man stared for a second. “You haven’t appareted in years?” He said, clearly confused.

“I’ve lived in muggle London for years, Potter, did you forget?” He teased. Bloody hell, he was tired. “Why do you think I have a car?”

Potter kept staring at him, seemingly stuck in his own head. Until he said. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Draco slept all the way home. He was gently shaken awake by Potter, who had parked his car outside his apartment building.

“Come on, Malfoy, we’re here.” He said, helping out of the car. Merlin, that was horrifying. Potter helping him out of the car because he hadn’t slept for 24 hours.

“Right, thank you,” Draco said, thinking that was it.

But Potter helped him all the way up to his front door.

“Good work today,” He said, awkwardly tripping outside of Draco’s door. “Hermione really appreciated you being there.”

Taken back, he said; “Well, I sure hope so, we’ve been friends for more than a year and a half now.” He looked away. “But thank you, Potter. I’m glad you accepted me being there. You took it better than Weasley did at first.” Draco chuckled drily.

Potter’s eyebrows furrowed for a second. “You’re harmless, Malfoy. If you’re friends with the minister of magic, you’re as much of a thread as a bowtruckle. ‘Mione didn’t just befriend anybody.” He said with a smile.

Draco was baffled. “Thanks...” Was all he could say. Was Potter being reassuring? Friendly?

Potter chuckled. “And don’t mind Ron. He still didn’t even trust me when I’m speaking parseltongue.”

Draco, still speechless, said nothing. Just stared at the other man until he coughed awkwardly.

“Well, I’m gonna let you sleep now. Goodnight Mal-”

“Wait here, Potter,” Draco said before he could regret it and darted into his apartment. He returned with a brown paper bag. He handed it to Potter with a shaky hand.

Potter eyed it sceptically. “What was this?”

“It’s breakfast.” He said, shaking his head a little. “Well, and a couple of muffins I think. It’s from the bakery.”

When Potter didn’t say anything Draco continued. “As a thank you. And because you need breakfast.” He shot him a nervous smile, wondering if it was too much. If Potter would think it was weird.

But the man just smiled and took the bag. “Thank you, Malfoy.” And again, he was out the door.

They didn’t see each other again until 3 weeks later when Draco was drinking tea with Hermione. Well, he was drinking tea. Hermione was breastfeeding Hugo.

“Does it hurt?” He blurted out, making Hermione chuckle.

“What, you wanna try?” Draco grimaced, placing his teacup down. “No, it doesn’t. It just feels weird, honestly. Nothing like Ron-”

“Oh no, shut it. Don’t wanna hear about your sex life, that’s disgusting.” When Hermione laughed Hugo whined a bit, making the attention go to him immediately.

“Don’t be so sensitive, Draco. I’ve heard plenty about yours!” She said, smiling when Hugo calmed down again.

“What, my non-existing sex life? Haven’t gotten laid in months, darling.” He mumbled bitterly. He hadn’t gone clubbing with Laura in a while because of everything that had been happening, which meant no one night stood in a long while.

“Yes, I know, I’m trying to change tha-”

The front door opened, interrupting both of them.

A caught off guard Potter paused, looking at them. “Oh, sorry Hermione, am I interrupting?” He glanced at Draco.

Hermione smiled, returning her attention to Hugo. “No, not at all, come on in. Ron should be home in an hour or so.”

She was sitting in the only armchair which meant the only place to sit was beside Draco on the couch.

He sat down heavily. “What were you guys talking about?” He said, coughing weirdly.

“Draco’s sex life,” Hermione said unbothered.

Draco could feel his face heat up. “Hermione!”

She looked up at him, surprised. “Oh, was it a secret?”

Shaking his head, he placed his hand over his eyes. He didn’t want to watch The Chosen One making fun of him.

Sure enough, a chuckle left Potter.

“Sounds interesting.”

Draco moved the hand from his eyes. “Shut it, Potter.”

He looked over at Hermione who was buttoning her shirt, trying to stifle her own laughter. “I keep trying to set you up, but you don’t want to!” She mocked.

Pointing a finger at her, Draco leaned forward. “That’s because you keep making it a blind date, and last time I checked wizards don’t want to date an ex-death eater.”

Potter’s eyebrows shot up, but Draco ignored him. As did Hermione.

“Oh, don’t be so judgemental. John wouldn’t have minded, he voted for you at your trial.” She said, adjusting Hugo in her arms.

Again, Potter sat silently confused.

“Doubt it, darling.” As he leaned back he noticed the staring. “Is something wrong, Potter?”

Potter sputtered. “No, uhm. No, sorry.”

Hermione giggled again. “Harry, calm down, I’m not gonna set him up with one of your co-workers.”

He leaned forward, making his dark hair an even worse mess. “No, it’s not- uhm, I just didn’t know he- well, you were...”

“Gay?” Draco finished. “Surprise, Potter. All death eaters suck dick.”

Potter’s cheeks darkened as Hermione snapped; “EX-death eater.”

He rolled his eyes and she further scowled. They’ve had that conversation multiple times. It often starts with Draco saying something self-degrading about his past and Hermione getting mad at him for speaking ill of himself. Then it progresses to Draco arguing her that he really was a death eater scumbag, and Hermione saying he was just a child with no other choice. And it usually ends with Draco mistakenly blurting out some of his secret self-hate and Hermione getting upset and/or crying (usually crying but only since the pregnancy) and Draco pulling her into a hug, apologizing for upsetting her.

“Don’t get me started Draco, I just had a baby.” She said, sternly shooting him warning daggers.

“Oh, darling, like that would stop you.” He teased, winking at her.

“You’re right, I could still kick your arse.” She smirked and Draco pretended not to see the spark of worry in her eyes.

He then realized Potter was still watching them like they had grown two heads all while being very warm in the face.

There was an awkward silence until Hermione stood up with Hugo announcing she would put Hugo down for a nap.

He stared at Potter who was still silent with furrowed brows.

He decided to take pity on the guy. “You want tea?”

Potter rubbed his hands on his jeans. His hair really was getting out of hand. It wasn’t as long as Draco’s, but it was still long enough to look like a bird's nest.

“Uhm, yeah, sure.”

Draco got up, making his move to walk towards the kitchen.

But hands snapped around his wrist. He turned around.

“Wait, you don’t have to make it,” Potter said, suddenly letting go of his wrist as if it had burned him. His hand was placed behind his neck instead. “I thought you would just... you know.” Draco didn’t understand until Potter took his wand out of his pocket.

“Oh.” Draco glanced at it awkwardly. “Well, I don’t have it with me, I was just going to make it myself.”

“You don’t have your wand with you?”

“I think it’s in a drawer at home somewhere.” He wondered.

Potter’s eyes widened and he froze. Draco was just about to demand to know what the hell he was staring at when he shook his head laughing, looking away. He then took off his glasses and wiped a hand over his face, letting it settle there for a moment.

Draco scowled. He felt made fun of.

“Please do tell what you find so amusing, Potter.” He spat. Draco had felt he and Potter had been friendly enough to be in the same room, which couldn’t be said about Hermione’s husband, but now he thinks that his fear of Potter only being civil with him because of Hermione was true.

Potter didn’t say anything for a moment, just let out a tiny snort.

Then he opened his mouth, wiping a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “Sorry, really, I just didn’t expect to ever see Lucius Junior making tea by himself.” There was a smile on his face, and though it didn’t feel hateful, it still mocked him.

Draco pretended it didn’t hurt as much as it did and scowled one last time, then turned around and went for the door.

“Tell Hermione I had an emergency.” He said, trying to make his voice cold.

“No, wait, Malfoy-”

Draco spun on his heels as Potter once again grabbed his wrist. They were face to face now and Draco felt his mouth run dry. He had forgotten how much taller he was than Potter as he looked down on the other man. Funny how the chosen one made him feel 2 inches tall even though he stood almost a head taller.

“I will not use my time on being made fun of, Potter.” He said, snatching his hand away and behind his back. “So please, let me be on my way without trouble.”

Potter looked confused and shook his head, again. “No, Malfoy you don’t understand, I wasn’t making fun of-”

“Oh, sure, Potter.” He snapped. “Nobody forced you to hang out with a death eater, there’s no need to be cruel.” Grabbing the doorknob, he pulled it open.

“I wasn’t making fun of you! God, Malfoy, I knew you were self-centred, but this is ridiculous. You’re as dramatic as you were in school, for Merlin’s sake. What about Hermio-”

Turning his head over his shoulder, Draco bit back; “You know nothing about me.�� He felt his face get red with anger. And hurt, too.

Potter looked taken back, stepping a single step backward. “I-”

“You know Draco Lucius Malfoy. But you know nothing about Draco Malfoy.”

And with that, he stormed out the door.

The days after that were Bad.

It had been a long time since he had gotten multiple of those in a week, and because of that, he decided to take a day off at the bakery. He knew his staff could take care of it for a day by themselves, so he wasn’t worried.

It helped when Hermione visited.

She came in the morning, having left Hugo with Ron back home.

He didn’t tell what happened in detail because he knew she would go straight to Potter, yelling his head off and demanding he apologized to Draco.

He didn’t want that. He wasn’t mad anymore. Not even sad. Just disappointed mostly. Disappointed he screwed up a possible friendship (friendship? Really?) and because he thought Potter would have been more understanding. But then again, Potter didn’t know his story. Clearly, Draco had been mistaken when he assumed Hermione had told her best friend his whole background. But Hermione cursed at him and said she wasn’t someone who spilled secrets to her best friends just because they were best friends. And then she said Draco was also one of her best friends. Draco may have cried.

But the next week he was good as new back in his bakery. It was an hour after closing and he was in the middle of mixing a fresh batch of chocolate scones for tomorrow to bake so they could be warm for when the first customers would arrive. They sold better that way.

Just as he wrapped the dough and left it to rise a loud knock was heard at the front door.

Draco’s blood ran cold. Only Potter did that.

He contemplated ignoring it, but he also knew if it was Potter he wasn’t going to stop until he opened.

He turned off his music, wiped his hand in his apron and went to the front of the store.

Sure enough, the birds nest stood behind the glass door, lit up from the lamp post.

He sighed and turned the lock.

Only poking his head out, he waited for Potter to speak. He might not blame Potter in any way for his actions, but he knew that technically Draco wasn’t the one who should apologize. Even though he felt the need to.

Potter looked away from his eyes, tripping back and forth on his feet as he rubbed his hands together. It was rather chilly out.

“Uhm...” He started and Draco said nothing. “Can I come in?”

Draco scrunched his nose in confusion before pulling himself together. “Why?”

Potter had seemingly expected the response because he immediately responded with; “Because I want to talk to you.”

Draco paused, sighed again, then pushed the door open enough for Potter to slip inside.

Deciding that Draco would feel better on his turf he immediately walked through to the back, into the main bakery. He felt jittery and wanted to do something with his hands. It would also give him an excuse not to look The Chosen One in the eyes.

As he figured, Potter followed him. He was hesitant and paused at the ovens to look around. Draco smirked. At least he could still surprise.

Draco pulled out the bowl of strawberries that needed to be prepared for the tarts he had planned for later. It was only 8 pm but he wasn’t leaving for another 2 hours.

Draco cut the strawberries with precision and speed after having done it a million times before. Potter was still silent, just out of his vision to his left. Draco sighed and decided to speak.

“Any day now Potter, I have work to do.”

Potter coughed awkwardly beside him.

“Yes, of course.” He sounded uncomfortable. “I want to apologize. For last week at Hermione’s.”

Draco paused his knife and turned his head. “Did she put you up to this?”

Colour rose to Potter’s cheeks as he fumbled with his words. “No! No, really, no, uhm it’s all me.” He shot Draco an awkward smile and he turned back to his strawberries. Potter’s smile was distracting. “She only told me when you’d be here.”

“Oh.” He said. “Well, uhm. It’s okay-”

“No please, just-” Potter paused again. Coughed. Shuffled on his feet. “I’m sorry. For last week. For what I said. It was uncalled for and rude. I’m genuinely sorry. You’re clearly not the same bloke you were in school.”

Draco felt his fingers shake.

“And I’m sorry for the Lucius thing,” Potter took a step closer. “I didn’t know you changed your name.”

Draco placed his knife on the cutting board. “There was no reason you would know. It’s alright, Potter. I understand where it came from, you don’t have to apologize for it. I understand.”

There was a pregnant pause before Potter breathed in loudly.

“Hermione said you might say that.” Draco locked his eyes on the red strawberry juice left on the cutting board. “And yes, I do need to apologize. I was rude and hurtful. That’s something to apologize for, don’t you think?”

His voice had gone soft and Draco sharply turned his head. Potter was closer than before, only a small space between their feet.

He didn’t know what to say. Potter was genuinely apologizing.

“I would love to get to know you. Start over, you know. What do you say?”

The question shook Draco out of his thread of thoughts, and he looked into bright green eyes.

“Uhm, well.” He said, knowing how nervous he sounded. “I’m not really that exciting of a person. Just less of an arse, honestly.” He tried to snort casually, but he knew it sounded awkward.

Potter laughed though and Draco smiled.

“I’m not too sure,” Potter said. “Hermione wouldn’t be friends with you if you weren’t interesting.”

Okay, that might be true.

“What do you say, Draco?” He said, holding out a hand.

Potter’s voice had dropped, and Draco gave in. He shook his hand, embarrassed that his own was sticky with strawberry juice.

“Okay, Harry.”

And Harry’s smile was blinding.

“Thank you for forgiving me.” He said, and Draco could tell he was honest. “And I’m sorry for interrupting your work, I can go if-”

“No!” Draco practically shouted. “No, please. It’s really fine, I’m just preparing for tomorrow.” He said, returning his eyes to the cutting board.

“Can I help?”

Draco’s head snapped up. “What?”

Harry shrugged. “I want to see you cook.” He grinned. “Or bake, or whatever it was you do.”

Draco snorted, thinking it over. He then looked over at the apples that needed peeling and pushed them towards Harry.

“Peel them. And don’t touch anything without asking.” He snickered, wondering why it was so easy to just fall into casualness with Harry.

Harry smiled brightly and began right away.

By the time it was 9.30 pm Draco called it a night. They had made a bit of a mess after Draco tried to show Harry how to make the perfect pie crust, and Draco was tired enough to tell himself he would deal with it tomorrow.

They now stood outside the front door as Draco locked up.

“How do you get home?” Harry asked, zipping up his jacket.

“I walk. It’s only 7 minutes from here.” He said, fumbling to get the keys in his bag. When he looked back up Harry was staring at him. Something he had been doing quite a lot since Draco ran into him for the first time since school.

“What?” Draco said, wondering if it was his hair. It was still in a ponytail, most likely not pretty anymore as it had been in the morning.

But Harry shook his head slightly. “It’s just so weird seeing you without magic.” He said with a soft smile. Draco ducked his head as he felt his face get warm. “The baking, muggle London, the no-wand thing, your transport. It’s interesting. It’s new.”

Draco tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and looked at Harry’s shoes. “I just don’t need it anymore.” He said, quietly. “Sometimes magic does more damage than good.”

Harry nodded. “I understand that.” There was an underlying tone of deeper understanding and Draco’s hands felt warm. “Then let me walk you home, at least.”

He sniffled in the cold but nodded. “Alright.”

They walked in silence and when they finally stood outside Draco’s apartment, he felt misplaced.

He was about to say goodnight when Harry interrupted him.

“So uhm.” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “I have a confession to make.”

Draco studied his posture, feeling himself filling up with nerves. “Oh?”

Harry laughed awkwardly again. “Yeah well, I guess it’s no secret I’ve been kind of taken by you lately.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

Harry’s eyes were now glued to the sidewalk. “And Hermione kept bugging me for visiting your bakery so much. And then she practically ripped my ear off when I told her what I said to you. And I felt really bad because I never wanted you to feel like I was making fun of you.”

Green eyes met silver. Just for a moment.

“I was frustrated I didn’t know what to talk to you about. And I snapped because I thought that fighting was what we were good at, so that must be it, right?” A sour grimace showed on Harry’s face and Draco wanted to smooth it out with his thumbs and lips. “But of course, that was stupid to assume. And I really am sorry. I just wanted to talk to you, and I didn’t know how.”

Draco was stunned. Frozen. Utterly confused.

“But...” He started. “Why did you want to talk with me?”

Harry snapped his gaze up to meet his, and for the second time, Draco felt chills go up to his neck. “Because...” Harry paused. “Well, because Hermione talked about you all the time. About how great you were. I wanted to get to know that person as well. I always felt sad that we didn’t become friends in our 8th year.” His eyes flickered again. “And because when I first saw you, I thought you were gorgeous.”

Draco’s breath hitched. That couldn’t be true. Harry was supposed to hate him. Or just really dislike him. It would only make sense. Draco was stunned enough that Harry had wanted to be friends. But this? How?

“Of course, I’m not expecting anything from you. I know we have our past and there’s probably a lot to talk about.” Harry took a step forward. “But I think I would like to take you out on a date. With me. If you’re interested.” His gaze was confident now, truly Gryffindor.

Draco felt red like the strawberries he had cut and his hands as sticky. He locked his eyes with Harry and forced himself to speak. “Uhm.” He said taking a deep breath. “Yes. I-I would like that.”

Harry beamed. “I was hoping you would say that.”

Draco snorted nervously and looked down at Harry’s lips. He wanted to kiss him.

Harry seemed to read his mind because he stepped even closer, so close their chests were touching, tucking a strand of hair behind Draco’s ear and asked;

“Can I kiss you? I have I read the sexual tension all wrong?”

Draco broke out in a smile and decided to just lean down, at the same time as Harry leaned up.

Their lips met. It was soft and short. Sweeter than anything Draco had ever baked, and more addicting than any dessert.

They broke apart. Draco felt warm.

He felt even warmer when Harry smiled and said; “Hermione was going to be so happy I finally got my head out of my arse.”

Fucking finished.

Read on ao3

Thank you for reading!!

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the-silvr-speedster · 4 years ago

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Fandom: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Pairings: Daisy Johnson / Daniel Sousa

The team meets on the Zephyr for the last time before going their separate ways. Daisy reflects on the past seven years with them while trying to come to terms with losing the only home she's ever known. In the meantime, she is trying to find a way to tell Daniel about their time loop kiss, which is not such an easy task with the lack of privacy on the spaceship. Daisy also has an awful nightmare and Daniel is there to pick her back up.

Sequel to ‘About Starfish and Squares’ but can be read as a stand-alone.

Also posted on AO3.

Hey guys!

I am soooo happy you liked my previous fanfic and since you wanted more, and I had a lot of ideas, here is Part Two. I wanted to write something short, basically, just Daisy telling Daniel about their time loop conversation and the kiss. And once again it turned out as this massive thing, even longer than Part One. I had a lot on my mind since I started rewatching the whole series again before the finale which I am equally excited and scared to watch. However it ends (and I really hope Dousy gets a happy ending) I will cry like a baby. Anyhow, thanks for the lovely comments on About Starfish and Squares on AO3, your support really helped me with finishing Part Two. I hope you will like it as well. Sorry for any mistakes. OK, so enough of my rambling. Enjoy the reading!

FYI I used a small part of the song Freaking me out by Ava Max in one section. It just felt right considering Daisy's feelings. (And I keep singing the song over and over so...)

Disclaimer: All characters are a property of Marvel and Marvel television.

Home.

What is it? What does it feel like? Is it a place or people? Daisy used to ask these questions for years. She wasn’t the only one, though. All the other children at St. Agnes orphanage were plagued by the same thoughts, the same questions. The same hopes. Every one of them hoped that one day someone would come and give them what they want. A home. It didn’t matter they didn’t know what it meant, they all wanted it. Daisy craved it. Some children believed that it wouldn’t be strangers coming through those doors but their own parents. They would open the doors, nervously step through, and explain everything. Apologize. There would be tears, there would be hugs, and hearts mended. They would take them home and forget about the past. Even Daisy imagined it, oh, so many times. She used to just sit there and hypnotize the old creaking wooden doors in the common room while other kids played. She did it so often that she remembered every crack, every deformity that could be found on them. Sometimes those doors opened and her heart leaped to her throat in expectation. Strangers came in and took her to their home but it was always over sooner than she could think of it as her home. She was back at St. Agnes and the doors were closed again. Only one time she really thought ‘this could be my home’. She had hope but even that was crushed when the family sent her back within a month. St. Agnes was her only constant. Or was she a constant at St. Agnes? Children would come and go, they would be fostered or adopted. Daisy was one of the few that would always stay. Until she had enough of it, of course.

She dropped from high school and left. No more Mary Sue Poots. How could they name her that anyway? Meet Skye, a fierce hacker. No, a hacktivist. Once again, she thought she found if not a home then at least a place she belonged to. With Miles and the Rising Tide. But now she knows that she hasn’t found a home until that day when two agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., an organization she despised for years, came knocking on the door of her van. She didn’t know home until she met Phil Coulson and his team.

She kept her eyes trained on the person in question as he was busy talking with Fitz and Mack. Well, not him, really, just an LMD version of him. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. It was him and it wasn’t him. He died. She mourned him. He was like a father to her, more of a father than her own father. No, Coulson was her dad. Or is. Or whatever. She kept coming back to their conversations during the time loops. Daisy was afraid Coulson was going to do something unexpected, like turn himself off permanently, after their mission was over. She just got him back - in a way - she couldn’t lose him again. But he didn’t and he doesn’t belong in this world anymore. Just like her, Daniel, and Deke.

Well, it’s really hard to think about Deke as someone who doesn’t belong here. He is like a tardigrade, he can survive anywhere and anytime, obviously. She is reminded of his ‘80s band, the Deke squad, again. She shakes her head, smiling. He was thriving in the ‘80s just as he was in 2019. She has no doubt he will be more than okay even now. That also has her thinking about what he’s going to “borrow” this time. First it was tech and then songs. Maybe now he will finally come up with something original. Daisy moves her eyes to him. He’s sitting next to Simmons and Diana, excitedly speaking of something, nursing a beer in a glass from Deke Squad’s official merch that he somehow managed to sneak on the Zephyr before they left the ‘80s. There were at least dozen of boxes of t-shirts, glasses, headbands, keychains, and who knows what else. Daisy has found out about it only two days ago, when Deke decided to move the boxes and managed to break the main controls panel on the bridge with one from the heavier ones.

“What the hell, Deke?” She yelled, after she reached the bridge and assessed the damage.

“It broke,” he told her innocently.

“Are you kidding me? It broke? On its own, huh? You had nothing to do with it at all, right?” Daisy stood there in the middle of the bridge, hands on her hips, scolding him like a child. She sighed. “Fix it. Before Mack comes back and sees it.”

“On it!” He called and tried to hurriedly leave the bridge but tripped over one of the boxes that were lying all around.

“Why are all these boxes up here?” Daisy came towards one of them and was about to peek inside only to be abruptly stopped by Deke. “What’s in there?”

“Nothing! Just some personal belongings,” he said maybe a little too fast.

“Oh, really?” She asked him incredulously. Daisy pushed him away and opened the box. She furrowed her brows in confusion as she saw its contents. Glasses. She moved to the next box. She took out a t-shirt. “Why do you need all of this stuff, Deke?”

“It’s Deke Squad merch! I couldn’t leave it just lying there on the base!” He defended.

Daisy looked at Daniel, who was watching their interaction with an amused expression, rolled her eyes, and then shoved the t-shirt into Deke’s hands, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Get it out of here.”

He nodded and started to move the boxes around.

“I’m going to help him,” Daniel informed her with a look that said ‘just to be sure he doesn’t break anything else’ while stepping carefully around the closest box.

“Alright,” she gave him a grateful smile. “I’m going to wake up Coulson and order some pizza.”

“Pizza for breakfast? Really?” He eyed her doubtfully. “I think I can do better than that.”

“It’s lunch already,” Deke spoke up from behind a stack of boxes.

“Why not have a pizza for breakfast?” Daisy asked with a shrug, completely ignoring Deke’s remark. “Pizza is always a great idea. Plus, you have work to do here. You can’t make us a proper breakfast.”

“It won’t take forever to put these away,” Daniel assured her while stepping closer. “I’ll be in the dining area in a few minutes and trust me I’m going to make you a breakfast sooner than they would deliver pizza.”

“Wait, did you guys just wake up or something?” Deke commented still hidden behind the boxes. But for her, it was like background noise.

Daniel was now standing in front of her fixing her in place with his eyes and giving her a small smile. She felt him take her hand in his. He brought it up to his lips and softly kissed her knuckles. Daisy could feel the so long forgotten feeling of butterflies in her stomach and tried to fight the blush creeping to her cheeks.

“Okay,” she mumbled quietly.

“I’d rather have pizza,” Deke said as he emerged from behind the fortress of boxes he just put up. Daisy quickly took her hand from Daniel’s and both of them made a step back from each other. Deke eyed them suspiciously.

“Yeah, uh, I’m going to wake Coulson up,” Daisy threw over her shoulder as she hurried away from the bridge leaving the two men behind.

Daisy thinks of that pile of lemons Deke once placed in her bunk. They really had a weird way to express affection in the postapocalyptic future he’s from, that’s for sure. Somehow that feels like a long time ago. The talk they had when she tried to explain she’s not ready to let anyone in. Not then, maybe not ever. Not after Lincoln. The pain, the guilt, and the regret she felt for so long keeping her heart locked away. Hidden and safe. The ghost of her love for him lingering deep within it. Love that remained unspoken since she never got the chance to tell him ‘I love you’. She remembers how Deke’s hope was crushed by her words. The kicked puppy expression he had on his face. Daisy didn’t want to hurt him but she didn’t want him harboring hope for something that might never be. She wonders if he still has that crush on her. ‘Most likely not,’ she told herself, a smile tugging at her lips. He moved on and somehow, she did too. What looked like an impossible thing less than two years ago, now became a reality. She has no idea how or when things changed. Maybe it was around the time she and Simmons were high on those puffies on Kitson. Maybe she needed that to happen to realize what she really wanted. To be honest with herself. She told Jemma she wants her own Fitz and the realization of what she said stayed with her even days after that, never actually leaving the back of her mind. But the planet needed to be saved again so she pushed it away and forgot about it. That memory floated back up just a few days ago. The memory of her and Jemma under that gaming table in the casino.

Daisy’s eyes flicked towards Daniel and remained on him, studying him. He and Mack took shifts at preparing the food on the grill. Now it was his turn. Meanwhile, he listened to the conversation between Mack, Fitz and Coulson and often joined in. And of course, he never forgot to send her a look or a smile, to make sure she’s okay. He was just laughing at something Fitz said, judging from Fitz’s awestruck expression they were probably grilling Daniel about his past and SSR. Daisy grinned. Fitz is going to talk his ear off. She looked at the bottle of beer she was nursing in her hands and tried to collect her thoughts. While the memory from Kitson resurfaced only a while ago, her confused feelings caught her attention during the time loops. More precisely, she realized that there is something there, that wasn’t before. There’s a heart now, where there used to be a ghost. She kissed him and remained silent about it. It freaked her out, that’s why she kept it quiet until the mission was over. She often acts on impulse and then freaks out.

Daisy let out a long breath and looked at Daniel again. She still hasn’t talked to him about their kiss in the time loops, not for the lack of trying but for the lack of privacy, among other things. The last few days were crazy.

When Daisy walked into the dining area Daniel has already started making breakfast. She’s probably spent more time talking with Coulson in the LMD lab than she thought.

“That smells amazing,” she called from the doorway.

“Told you it’s going to be good,” Daniel said over his shoulder.

She can’t exactly tell when he decided to be her personal chef but it might have started after he caught her eating breakfast for dinner one evening in the ‘80s. Who says she can’t have cereals with milk whenever she wants to?

Daisy walked closer and hopped on the counter next to him. “Hmm, pancakes are the best,” she agreed while jabbing her finger in the pancake batter and tasting it.

“Oh, no. No eating the batter, young lady,” Daniel scolded her with a teasing grin while he took the bowl away from her.

“Hey, don’t be such a grandpa about it,” she said, pretending to be offended. “What’s that?” She pointed towards a bubbling dark purple mass in another pot.

“That’s a sauce made from forest fruit mix I found in the freezer with a few secret ingredients I won’t disclose,” he winked at her.

“Someone’s being secretive,” she teased. “It looks delicious.” Daisy leaned over the pot and took a deep breath. “I can smell some cinnamon, hmm…maybe few drops of vanilla extract…a drop of love…” She paused, opening one eye, spying on Daniel’s reaction. He was giving her an amused look.

“Now, why would I use a love potion?” He teased back with a smirk.

Daisy regained her sitting position and dramatically sighed while pretending to be occupied by looking at her nails. “Yeah, you are right. You don’t need one.” It took her a moment to realize what she has just said. Better yet, what underlying meaning those words held. Her breath caught in her throat and she carefully looked up at him. Daniel had that soft look on his face again. That look she always wants to kiss away. She had to look at her hands. “I mean you are so likable. Everyone here likes you,” she babbled quickly.

“I don’t make pancakes for everyone,” he told her softly and she had to look up at him again. Those warm honest eyes. Suddenly she’s back in the time loop. ‘And you…you’d like to…be that someone?’ ‘Not for everyone.’ Oh, God. She has to tell him. Right now.

Well, in the hindsight…She never should’ve distracted him while he was making pancakes.

“You guys are making a smoke grenade or something?” Coulson spoke up the same moment the both of them noticed the burning pancake batter on the pan.

Everyone came back to the Zephyr to say the last goodbye. And by everyone, she means even Andrew, whom May has dragged along after long hours of explaining to him why his wife is a different person from the one he came to know over the years. Telling him she has empathic abilities. She also mentioned that he is Inhuman and their daughter might be as well. It must’ve been an interesting conversation. Daisy would’ve liked to see it.

With all those people coming on board, the spaceship started to become more and more crowded. It’s not that she wouldn’t be happy to have all of them here again after a few days of it being just her, Daniel and Coulson, but she kind of misses the privacy it provided. Maybe that’s why she is tucked away in a corner alone, watching over all of them. Her team. No, not a team. A family. Because teams break apart, families not so much. They always stay together, even if it’s from afar. A family never gives up on you. Well, maybe some families do, some are messed up like that. ‘Like my biological family,’ she thinks. But not this family. They never gave up on her. Yes, there were some initial reservations after she got her powers, but Coulson has never given up on her. Not when she chose the Afterlife over her family in S.H.I.E.L.D.. Not when she broke more than just their hearts after being infected by Hive. Not when she walked away them to become a vigilante after Lincoln sacrificed for her, because of her mistakes. Definitely, not when she started to believe she’s the Destroyer of Worlds. They gave her a chance after chance. They let her grow. She is not the same person she was almost seven years ago. She is not that wide-eyed girl living in her van being obsessed with superheroes and revealing the truth to the world. Skye died in that Kree temple and Daisy Johnson has been born. Or did she? Daisy likes to believe that a small part of Skye is still left somewhere inside of her. She liked Skye. She may have been naïve, but she wasn’t burdened by that darkness Daisy has inside. By those demons and nightmares.

“A time loop?” Daniel asks her.

“Fun, right?” Daisy comments with a sigh, her eyes scanning through the contents of the drawer… ‘Wait, what?’ She looks up confused. They are back in the time storm. ‘No. No, no, no…no. Not again.’ “Daniel? What the hell is-” She starts to say but he cuts her off.

“This is why I wanted to stay with this team. Do you ever have a day when something crazy doesn’t happen?” Daniel asks a little too excited.

“It’s been a while.” She speaks involuntarily. “Hey! Daniel?!” She waves her hands frantically in front of him. He doesn’t notice it.

“Reminds me of my SSR days,” he tells her, nostalgic smile on his lips.

“We just need to get that implant out,” she says and decides to just take the scanner but Daniel stops her.

“Wait! It’s a trap,” he warns her.

“But we don’t know that yet.” Daisy looks at him confused. ‘Why would I say that? We know it’s a trap. This…this has already happened.’

“We do. You said somebody obviously went to the drawer and…,” he pauses. “Simmons was supposed to get the scanner, right?”

“Yeah, until I told her I was gonna do it.” Daisy looks around as the lights start to flicker. ‘Something doesn’t feel right,’ she thinks.

“Every attempt so far has been on Simmons. She’s the one they’re trying to kill,” Daniel says looking at her.

“Maybe, but we still need the scanner.” ‘Oh.’ He’s gonna take it. She can’t let him do it again. She reaches for the scanner but her hand goes right through it. ‘What?’ Fear starts to settle in her bones.

“Right, but if I die, I’ll just, you know…reset. No problem. If you die, you’ll lose your memories and waste all this time relearning everything. Time, we don’t have,” Daniel explains and reaches into the drawer without a second thought, grabbing the scanner.

“What are you doing? This is crazy!” She says trying to move from her place but to no avail.

“This is my purpose. I know that know,” he tells her a flicker of blue in the brown of his eyes. His voice is getting weird. Muffled, like by a static on a radio…

She tries to look around for something, anything to help her take at least one step closer to him so she could take that scanner from him. ‘Something is way off.’

“Why would you-”

“To make sure this worked. To make sure you didn’t try this yourself,” he cuts her off and when she looks up it’s not Daniel standing there anymore, but-

“Lincoln? What…” She pauses, looking at him in shock. He’s wearing the same S.H.I.E.L.D. jacket he had back then. Yo-Yo’s necklace is hanging from his fist. His face is bloody and his blue eyes are piercing through hers. “It was supposed to be me,” she mumbles quietly, tears running down her cheeks. “You should’ve let me die!”

Lincoln gives her a sorrowful smile. “I would never let you die.” His voice is echoing around her. She can feel its vibrations in her bones. “So, it’s fine,” he mutters, a little surprised, looking at the scanner in his hand.

“No! It’s not. Let go of it!” She screams hopelessly. “You can’t just die for me like this. This is wrong!”

Suddenly she hears a weird sound coming from the scanner and Lincoln lets out a groan. A shadow of confusion crosses his face. However, as he leans back against the table he fades in and out like the flickering light above them and finally changes back into Daniel.

“Sousa?!” Daisy calls to him. “Daniel!” He looks up at her with fear in his eyes, blood spilling from his mouth. “No!”

“Hey, hey, hey, Sousa,” her body finally lets her move close to him as he starts slipping to the ground. She tries to lower him more carefully until he sits down. “Hey, Daniel, look at me. It’s gonna be okay,” she tells him, a quiet sob breaking her voice. “It’s gonna reset. You’ll be fine.” She sits down next to him and let him lay down on her lap.

“Why is it taking so long!” She yells into the empty ship. Daisy cups his cheek with one hand and strokes his dark hair with the other one. “Please, stay with me,” she whispers almost inaudibly. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The time loop has to reset. It always does!” A stray tear drops on Daniel’s forehead. “Please,” she begs, sobbing. “Daniel!” But he doesn’t hear her anymore.

She watched hopelessly as the last light slipped away from his eyes. She could feel how his heart gave its last weak beat. He was gone. He died for her just like Lincoln did.

Suddenly she feels too much. She feels every vibration around her, but not those she needs to feel. Those of his heartbeat. It’s like her own heart is trying to beat for them both, picking up speed until everything around her shakes. But she doesn’t care anymore. Panic and pain are clawing at her chest making her breathless.

She sees her mom, lying there lifeless after Malick snapped her neck. She sees Enoch. She sees Lincoln floating in midair. Lash. Her mother again. Triplett…The room is becoming filled with bodies of those she cared about but had to die because of her.

“It has to reset,” she mumbles weakly. “It has to reset. It has to reset. It has to reset.” Daisy closes her eyes and hugs Daniel closer.

Daisy.

“Lumley said that we should stay the hell away from you.”

She looks up at the sound of that voice. It’s Coulson. The real one.

“I had a chance at healing up from this,” he points to his chest, “but I gave the serum to you.”

Daisy.

“He said that wherever you go, death follows.”

Daisy!

“He was right.”

Daisy!!

Wake up!

*******************************************************************************************

The plane was shaking. Daniel woke up in his bunk with a start. At first, he thought they are taking off somewhere but that didn’t make sense. None of the four of them knew how to pilot the Zephyr. Daisy managed to fly the quinjet on her first try back in the ‘80s, but that-

Then it hit him. “Daisy!” Those are her quakes…

He jumped out of the bed and stormed into the corridor where he almost collided with Coulson.

“Where’s Daisy?” He asked him worriedly.

“Hey, guys? What’s going on?” A very sleepy Deke looked out from the door of his bunk. “Why is everything shaking? Are we going somewhere?”

“She is in her bunk,” Coulson informed him ignoring Deke completely and Daniel didn’t waste any second standing there as he hurried towards Daisy’s bunk. “I was going through the supplies when this started. I was just about to go check on her. She’s probably having a nightmare.”

Daniel stopped before her doors and faced Coulson with a concerned look in his eyes. “Nightmares cause her to quake?”

“Only the really bad ones. Actually, she didn’t have an episode like this in forever,” he explained with a mixture of sadness and worry. “I think you should check on her.”

Daniel was about to ask him if he’s really okay with it being him but the plane was hit by another strong quake and the light started to flicker above them. He gave a nod to Coulson and opened the doors to Daisy’s bunk.

Daisy was lying mostly still, the only evidence of her discomfort being her tear-streaked cheeks, the way she was grasping at the blanket and her rapid breathing. It physically hurt Daniel to see her like that. So strong and yet so vulnerable.

“It has to reset. It has to reset,” she started mumbling from the dream and another wave of tears slipped from under her eyelids. “It has to reset. It has to reset!”

Daniel was at her side in a second, wiping the tears away from her face and caressing her hair.

“Daisy,” he tried softly.

“It’s about the time loops.” He heard Coulson comment from the doorway.

“Daisy,” Daniel tried again, carefully cupping her face in his hands.

Another, even stronger quake hit the plane. Daniel heard something clatter to the ground and another distinct sound of a breaking glass somewhere in the dining area. He looked around just in time to see Coulson leaving to assess the damage, followed closely by Deke. He turned his focus back to the still sleeping woman.

“Daisy!” He tried more loudly this time.

She whimpered.

“Daisy!! Wake up!”

Her eyes snapped open with a loud gasp. She shot up into sitting position, the unexpected movement almost making him fall from the side of her bed. She was looking around in bewilderment, gasping for air.

“It’s okay,” Daniel told her with a calming voice, his hands going to her face again, forcing her to look at him. “You are safe. It was just a dream.”

“D- Daniel?” Daisy mumbled. Her brown eyes meeting his. They held so much pain and fear.

“Yeah,” he gave her an encouraging smile, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. “I’m here. But Daisy, you have to stop quaking.”

The shaking stopped suddenly. She raised her hand from her lap and softly put it on his chest, right above his heart. He saw a flash of relief on her face before it was replaced by guilt. She looked down.

“Hey! Don’t feel guilty about this. The plane survived a time storm, this was nothing,” he spoke calmingly.

“Is everyone okay?” She asked him quietly.

‘Of course, she would worry about everyone else but herself,’ Daniel thought to himself. He gently raised her chin so she would meet his eyes again.

“Yes,” he assured her. However, the moment he looked into her eyes he saw they no longer held pain or fear or guilt. They were just…empty.

“Daisy?” He started softly. “Do you, uh… Do you want to talk about it?”

She considered it for a moment but then shook her head and let her hand fall from his chest back to her lap, her eyes following.

“Okay. You don’t have to.” Daniel let his hands drop from her face and moved further back to give her some space.

She was sitting there quietly, her long hair cascading around her face, hiding it from him. Daniel realized that the silence is even worse than her quiet sobs while she was still asleep. He wanted to help her somehow but he didn’t want to push her further away by insisting on talking about it. He considered leaving, because maybe she just needed more space but he didn’t want to leave her alone. She shouldn’t be alone not if the nightmare was so bad that it caused quakes.

Daniel thought about what Coulson has said. ‘Was it really about the time loops?’ She hasn’t told him much about what happened in there. He knew only the general stuff Coulson and Daisy told the whole team about after Enoch’s sacrifice. They’ve been in there for a long time, finding a way how to save everyone almost at the last second. Nobody else remembered but the two of them, probably because of their sleeping pods. Some members of the team died during the time loops because Enoch was programmed to kill if anyone tried to remove Simmons’s memory blocking implant. Was her nightmare about that? Possibly. It would give nightmares to anyone.

“Do you want me to leave?” He decided that at least he should give her the option even if he wanted to stay.

She quickly looked at him, a flash of panic crossing her soft features. A clear ‘No’ to him. But then she composed herself and looked away.

“Yes,” she whispered almost inaudibly.

He raised an eyebrow and sighed. She is not making this easy at all.

“I think I’ll stay anyway,” Daniel exclaimed.

“I told you to go,” she looked up at him a light annoyance on her face.

“See, you tell me to leave but you don’t actually want that,” he gave her a small smile.

“How do you know what I want, huh?” She asked him, anger seeping into her voice. “I want to be alone.” Daisy moved further away from him.

“Honestly?” He sighed looking at his hands and then back at her. “I know people like you. Focused on the greater good, even at your own expense. You want people to think you like being alone, even though you always end up back with friends,” Daniel told her and met her eyes again. The annoyance was gone. She was looking at him with a mixture of shock and…surprise? He decided to push his luck further. “You all keep running at the problem full tilt until you either solve it or slam headlong into a brick wall. But you don’t have to deal with the aftermath alone, even though you think so. You should have someone there to pick you back up. Someone to help you unload that burden or share its weight.”

Daisy closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Few tears escaped from her eyes and she frantically wiped them away. She laughed, but it was a sad laugh.

“I am trying to be angry at you but I can’t. Not after…after you say…that,” she spoke. “You know, we had a very similar conversation in the time loops.”

Daniel raised his brows in surprise but decided to stay quiet and let her continue.

Daisy sniffled. “I asked why you are always there, whether to help me or watch over me, and you gave me the speech you just did. Again.” She looked at him in curiosity. “So, uh, you want to be that person for people like me?”

Daniel gave her a small meaningful smile. “Yes. But not for everyone.”

“You said that, too,” she smiled sadly. “You are right, you know. I…I want you to stay. But I also want you to go. My life’s a mess. I…People I care about tend to get hurt…,” she took a deep breath and added very quietly, “…or worse.”

“Daisy-” Daniel started to say but was cut off.

“I have demons. My past is…” she shrugged and wiped her tears away again.

“We all have skeletons in our closets,” Daniel told her. “I am not scared of yours.”

“You should be,” she murmured.

“Let me be the judge of that. One day. When you are ready.” He decided to risk moving a tiny bit closer and taking her hand in his. He looked into her eyes so she would see that he really means every word he says. “I am not going anywhere.”

For a brief moment, he could see the fight in her eyes. But it was there just for a few seconds. New tears ran down her cheeks but she made no move to wipe them away this time. She moved closer instead and hugged him, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Daniel’s arms sneaked around her waist pulling her close. He could feel her tears seeping through his shirt. He sighed and when she let out a muffled sob, he comfortingly stroked her back.

“They are all leaving,” she said between sobs. “I’ve never thought it would come to this. They are the only family I’ve ever known.”

His heart ached for her. “And they will never stop being your family. Families change, grow, their members go their separate ways but always come back together.” It made him think of his own family, of his home. He couldn’t even say goodbye and will never see them again. He lost it all in a blink of an eye. But he was supposed to be dead and now he got a second chance at life. As Coulson said - a life after death.

“I know,” she mumbled. “But it won’t be the same.”

“No, it won’t,” Daniel whispered into her hair.

Daisy let out a yawn.

“Maybe you should try to rest a bit more,” he suggested.

She leaned back and he could see the uncertainty mixed with fear in her eyes. She was scared of the nightmares. “Will you hold me? I promise I won’t quake you out of the bed,” she gave him a small teasing grin.

“Whatever you want, Quake,” he teased back and she caught the collar of his shirt and pulled him down with her.

*******************************************************************************************

Daisy knows now that she can’t let her demons stand in the way of her happiness. Those demons are in the past but will always be a part of her. A part she will share with Daniel one day, as well as he will share his own demons. Yes, she is scared that she could lose him like Lincoln but a small part of her has a hope that it won’t happen this time.

‘We are going home.’ Four simple words Daniel said to her in that barn. Words that kept her fighting. Back there it was just a promise to make it back to the Zephyr, because where was home? Her only home were the people on board the Zephyr, her team and family. Where was home for Daniel? She couldn’t ask him then. They plucked him out of his time, his home.

Maybe she is losing her family in some way but maybe she will gain something else. Her own Fitz. Maybe, she already has.

‘We are going home.’ It could be a promise of something else. Now those words could mean more. She can feel that warm fuzzy feeling in her chest when she thinks about it. When she thinks about him. She smiled, her eyes fixed on Daniel as she took a sip from her beer.

“Just kiss him already,” May spoke up from beside her.

Daisy choked and slapped her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from spitting the beer out. She coughed a few times and May hit her on the back.

Privacy. She misses it.

“May! What the hell?!” She exclaimed annoyed and berated herself for not realizing that May sneaked up on her. And her feelings. ‘Shit.’ She gave her a glare.

“Just saying,” the older woman shrugged. “You know, there are bets going around on when you two finally become a couple. Officially. They refused to let me participate because of my empathic powers.”

Daisy groaned and rolled her eyes. “Mack and Yo-Yo already had one bet when we were in the ‘80s. Not sure what it was exactly about but Mack won,” she shrugged thinking that it may have been about the kiss. “You guys are the worst; one doesn’t have any privacy.”

“We are just happy to see you smiling like that. To see you happy again,” she patted her on the arm. “But please, do something about it already because this…tension is killing me.”

“I was going to, but as I said, there is no privacy on this spaceship with all of you here,” Daisy defended her lack of actions. She really wanted to tell him the morning after he stayed with her because of that awful nightmare but Mack and Yo-yo were already back and they probably heard about that nightmare from Coulson because they both wanted to go check on her which ended up in Coulson calling after them: “I strongly advise you not to go there.” She could hear their ‘Why?’ followed by a surprised ‘Oh!’ from Mack. She remembers as she quickly shot out of the bed, Daniel’s confused ‘Daisy?’ following her. She rushed into the corridor with ‘I am fine, thank you’, closing her bunk behind her and added: “No weird assumptions are needed.” The three teammates were looking at her in amusement.

“Yeah, everyone is here, as in here and not there,” May pointed at the bridge since they were all in the cargo bay with the ramp lowered down.

Daisy considered what May was proposing but quickly refused the idea by shaking her head. “Nope.” She could already see the faces of everyone after she and Daniel would be seen leaving the bridge together.

“You can’t wait to get rid of us, can you?” May teased.

“Maybe,” she snickered. “At least I’ll spare him from the if-you-ever-hurt-her threats from you guys.”

“Mack already beat us to it,” May gave her an amused smile.

“Oh God,” Daisy facepalmed.

“While you were on the way to save Simmons and Deke,” the older spy added mischievously.

“What?! But that was a week ago… Oh,” she sighed when she realized that Mack was very quick to do it after she told him about the time loop kiss. But she wasn’t even sure what to do about it back then. Or was she? Why everyone around her seems to know her better then she does? And more importantly - what else did he say to Daniel? She looked towards where both men stood, chatting over the grill.

“Uh, I should probably go check on what they are discussing now,” Daisy said and finished the rest of her beer.

“Go mingle. After all who knows when we get the chance to be together like this,” May smiled sadly and she, too, went to join the others.

Daisy watched her go for a short moment, set the empty bottle on a table, and walked over towards Daniel and Mack.

“Hey, guys. What do you have there? I’m starving.”

*******************************************************************************************

The team spent the rest of the evening and the beginning of the night by sharing their memories, laughing and teasing each other. They remembered their fallen friends and maybe even cried a little. Nobody wanted to be the first to leave. They all knew that when they do leave, it will be the end of their journey as a team. Eventually, Fitz and Simmons decided to go first since their daughter was already sleeping curled up in Jemma’s lap. Fitz said his goodbyes and took still sleeping Diana into the car.

“You know, this isn’t a goodbye,” Jemma told Daisy with shaking voice, tears running down her cheeks. “It’s see you soon.”

“I know,” Daisy sniffled and wrapped her best friend, no, her sister, in a bear hug.

“It would be lovely if we lived close to each other. Diana needs her auntie Daisy,” Jemma mumbled into her shoulder.

“Yeah. That would be great,” Daisy smiled through tears. “I am so happy for you, Simmons. You have Fitz and Diana, your little family,” she moved her hands to Jemma’s shoulders to look her in the eyes. “I know you’ll be okay and that makes this all a little less painful. You won’t be alone.”

The scientist chuckled. “You won’t be alone either,” she said and looked sideways at Daniel, who hovered nearby watching over Daisy, to make her point.

Daisy let out a soft laugh.

“It’s so good to see you this happy again. So, what are you guys planning?” Jemma asked her with a grin.

Daisy shrugged. “I thought that maybe I can take him on a small trip to show him how the world changed. After that…,” she sighed, “I honestly don’t know. I guess we both need to find out where we belong in this new timeline.”

“You’ll figure it out. Together. I’m sure of it,” Jemma told her comfortingly and hugged her again. “I love you, Daisy.”

“I love you too, Jemma.”

After Fitz-Simmons departed, the others left one or two at a time. Mack and Yo-yo were the last ones, leaving almost in the morning hours. Coulson decided to go with them, which really surprised Daisy since the possibility of him leaving too didn’t cross her mind. But as he said, every one of them needs to find a place in this new world and he is not an exception. He assured her he won’t be gone for long.

“It’s just a trip,” he said. “And take care of each other,” he added over his shoulder as he was walking down the ramp.

She stood there, looking after them until she could no longer see the lights of the car. Just like that, they were all gone.

A fresh morning breeze played with her hair. Daisy shuddered. She has heard Daniel walking down the ramp before he put a jacket around her shoulders. She didn’t even realize he went inside to grab it for her.

“Thank you.” She wiped at her tear-streaked cheeks and smiled, not yet looking at him.

“It’s nothing, but you are welcome,” he replied as he stood next to her.

He was so close she could feel the warmth of his shoulder on her own. She could feel the vibrations of his heartbeat. Her hand brushed against his and he took hold of it, their fingers intertwining. That touch grounded her in the moment and place. It assured her that she is not alone. Daisy let out a long content sigh. She knew that now was her time. They were finally alone.

“I need to tell-” she turned to face him but was cut off midsentence after Daniel crossed those few inches between them and pulled her in for a soft kiss. It was short but it caught her off guard. His right hand was still holding hers and his left cupped her cheek. She briefly opened her eyes to look into his and she thought she’s going to drown in that dark chocolate. Whatever she wanted to say was long lost with only one thought on her mind. Daisy leaned in and kissed him back, both her hands grabbing at the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, while his arms snaked around her waist. This kiss was different than the previous one. It was like finally getting a glass of water after dying of thirst in a desert. It was urgent and it left them both breathless. They remained close afterward, trying to catch their breaths. Daisy was beaming and Daniel was looking at her like she was the most precious beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“That was much nicer than our first kiss,” she told him quietly with a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Daniel frowned in confusion. “This was our first kiss.”

“Hmm, not for me,” she hummed, moving her right hand from his neck to his chest. She could see the moment when it hit him.

“The time loops. You kissed me in the time loops,” he said with a light chuckle and shook his head in disbelief.

“Why do you think it was me?” She asked with a gasp and smiled at him teasingly.

“And am I wrong?” He smirked smugly while he stroked her back.

It sent shivers down her spine and she had to force herself to concentrate. “Nope. But you, Mr. Sousa, kissed me back,” Daisy disclosed and pinched him in the chest.

“Hmm, that’s not fair. I don’t remember that,” he gave her a sad look.

“I can make you remember,” she whispered as she caught his face in her hands and brought it down to hers to kiss him again, exactly like in the time loops. Daniel responded to her kiss by pulling her even closer. One hand cupped his cheek and the other sneaked around his neck. She pulled away too soon for his liking.

“It was like this,” she whispered, her hands dropping to his chest.

“Nice,” he smiled. “But short.”

“Oh! So, that was too short for you, huh? We were plummeting towards certain death and needed to trap Enoch,” she told him exasperatedly. “You, Danny-boy are lucky I found the time even for that short kiss.”

Daniel laughed and eventually, Daisy joined in.

“You were so cute. With that soft expression on your face after the kiss. It took everything within me to stop myself from kissing you again,” she admitted while playing with a button on his shirt.

“Were you going to tell me about it?” He wondered.

“I was about to tell you before you kissed me, so…” Daisy shrugged and smiled at him sweetly.

“Hmm, I can do that again,” Daniel offered and his eyes darkened a bit.

“Yes, please,” she breathed.

*******************************************************************************************

Daisy and Daniel were sitting on the cargo bay ramp which gave them a nice view of the horizon. They weren’t really that tired and neither wanted to move from that spot after they exchanged a few more kisses. They sat down and Daisy cuddled into his side. It’s been so long that she watched a sunrise. A start of a new day. The beginning of something new.

“We can’t live on a plane,” Daniel said thoughtfully. “We need a proper place to call home.”

Daisy smiled and slowly looked at him, her eyes roaming over every small detail of his face lighted by the rising sun. His features were relaxed and peaceful. She wanted to imprint this face into her memory to keep it forever.

The words ‘we’ and ‘us’ and the meaning they held used to freak her out. But with Daniel, it’s somehow different. She is not scared of them, on the contrary, hearing them warms her heart. She sighed.

“What?” He asked her, a questioning smile playing on his lips as his eyes melted into hers.

Daisy leaned in and planted a short but sweet peck on his lips. Then she pushed herself back to look at him again, enjoying the soft almost dazed expression on his face.

“I like the sound of that,” she said in a low voice, giving him a lopsided grin.

“Sound of what?”

“Home.”

How am I gonna live my life without this TV show? Without Dousy? I guess we are all gonna meet here to scream after the finale, so see you then! I’ll have to wait until Thursday evening, though.

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talldecafcappuccino · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Between Close Friends

Rating: General Audience

Chapters: 1/1

Relationship: Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton

Summary: Ted is bad at social media, but is that a bad thing?

Ted, what the fuck are you doing????

Ted peers at his phone, rubbing sleep from his eyes and reads the message again.

He scrolls down and sees he has twelve more texts and three missed calls all from Keeley Jones. He turns off his nighttime notifications with a few exceptions for emergency contacts, so it’s not surprising he slept through the messages.

He scratches at the stubble along his cheek and checks his clock. It’s seven o’clock here in Kansas, so it must be . . . early afternoon in London. He thinks through the last day, but he can’t remember anything interesting enough to have Keeley on the case.

Henry came over to his extended-stay hotel, they went to an American football game, got a late dinner in downtown Wichita, and watched a movie before bed.

They did make it on the Jumbotron for the Lasso-off, the team’s half-time dance contest, but his moves weren’t especially embarrassing. At least not in his opinion. Unless one of the moves was actually an insult to the English in which case, oh jeeze, he needs to get on this quick.

The call barely connects before Keeley’s voice echoes in his ear.

“Oy! Ted!”

“Keeley, I am so sorry for whatever I did to offend the great people of the United Kingdom. I am ready to make a statement and an apology tour as soon as you tell me which dance move I need to retire immediately.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I need you to log out of the AFC Richmond Instagram account. Like, now.”

That stops Ted in his tracks.

Does he even have access to that? He remembers a post-it note of accounts and passwords from Beard on their first day with Richmond.

There was an account run by the previous manager, but Keeley had taken it over long ago, converting it to the official team account. She had also made Ted a personal Instagram for his own use and brand development, but he never posted publicly.

He puts her on speaker phone and opens the Instagram app. She’s right. He’s logged into the team account with all 25 million followers. Well, shoot.

There are about a dozen stories posted from last night. All of Ted and Henry’s day together. There’s puns (“having a cow” at dinner with an image of Henry holding up a beef rib and screaming his head off), Ted and Henry singing at a dueling piano bar, the two brushing their teeth together in the bathroom mirror.

“No offense, but I think this may delay the Tom Ford deal you asked me about.”

“Yeah. I get that.”

“It’s just, you know, dads aren’t quite their brand. Or our brand. I mean we’re not anti-dorky dad, but you know with the whole comeback narrative during the season hiatus . . .”

“No I get it. You’ve put a lot of work into rebranding this team and I just undermined that.”

She sighs, but it’s fond.

“Sorry, Ted. It’s not like what you posted was bad, it’s rather sweet actually. It’s just a little different from the posts I had scheduled.”

Ted nodded. It wasn’t the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him, but he felt bad for making Keeley’s job harder than it needed to be.

“No, I’m sorry Keeley. I swear, it won’t happen again.”

****

“Can you believe what Ted did last night? I’ve never seen someone so bad at social media.”

Rebecca has no idea what Keeley is talking about when she walks into her office. She flops onto the couch, feet splayed on the coffee table, clearly exhausted by whatever Ted has done from 4,438 miles away.

“So many puns. Which, don't get me wrong, I love word play more than most people. But I don’t think it’s right for the team right now.”

Rebecca shuts her laptop.

“You’re right about puns not being part of the team plan, but what’s this about Ted? What did he do, exactly?”

Ted hasn’t posted anything in at least 24 hours. Not that Rebecca is keeping track.

“Oh he managed to switch to the team account on Instagram and posted about his entire evening out with Henry. It was quite sweet, actually. The ones that made sense,” but then she pulled a face.”He’s like, really, really bad at social media.”

Oof. Well that isn’t great, but Rebecca doesn’t think there’s anything particularly terrible about Ted’s social media use normally.

“But everything seems under control? No big PR actions needed.”

“It’s fine. I had him log out and wrote a post about Coach Lasso’s surprise social media takeover from America.”

Rebecca nods. Okay, so it was all sorted. Keeley has things totally under control.

But she reaches for her phone anyway. She opens Instagram, taps through the AFC Richmond stories, and snorts at the image of Henry with the rib as big as his head.

“Are people at least being kind?” Rebecca hopes Ted logged out without seeing any messages about Henry. Not that she could see any reason for it, but people were shitheads on the internet.

“Well, wanker is still the most common response. But many of them are wanker with a little heart at the end, so I think it’s fine. We actually got a lot of responses, proper engagement and all that,” she looks up at the ceiling, considering it for a moment before rolling her head to look back at Rebecca.

“If we weren’t trying to present the team as a badass phoenix rising from the ashes, I’d say a Ted takeover isn’t a bad idea. He just needs some supervision. Maybe a phone with a better camera.”

Rebecca is only half listening as she taps to the next story.

“Aw, they went to dueling piano night. That must have been fun for Henry.”

She’s smiling at her phone when Keeley asks, “Dueling piano night?”

“Yeah, you know at Jim Bob’s Bar.”

Keeley is looking at her blankly.

“Fine. I know it’s not really Jim Bob’s bar. It’s probably not even a bar if Henry’s there. But I can’t remember the real name off the top of my head.”

She’d looked it up once, after Ted first posted about the dueling pianos. For some reason she started calling it Jim Bob’s. Ted didn’t seem bothered and had even started calling it that himself.

When she looks up again, Keeley is staring at her, eyes narrowed.

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you know so much about some bar in Kansas?”

That gives Rebecca pause. She isn’t sure what Keeley means by the line of questioning.

“It’s not some totally random bar. Ted posts about it whenever he goes for dueling pianos.”

If he gets to the bar early or she has a particularly late evening, Rebecca catches the story before going to bed. When she does, she always asks him to put in $5 for Wannabee by the Spice Girls. She owes him a small fortune by now, but it’s worth it to see the bar explode with cheers and jeers.

Some nights she misses the story, but he puts money in anyways and she wakes up to a shaky video of, Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.

Rebecca thinks this is a good enough explanation, but Keeley is still staring at her.

“I’ve literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Keeley, you know social media is not my thing. All I know is that sometimes Ted posts about this bar on his tiny friends list thing,” she waves her hand around, trying her best to describe it. “The one with the green ring around it.”

Keeley leaps to her feet, eyes wide.

“Am I not on Ted’s Close Friends list??”

Before Rebecca can say a word, Keeley is halfway out the door, texting furiously.

“Roy, better not be on there, if I’m not on there. Ted knows how I feel about being left out!” she shouts over her shoulder. “Sorry Rebecca, I need to do some investigating, asap.”

Oof. She may have just created a problem. It’s probably best to give Ted a heads up before Keeley gets through interrogating Roy.

She drafts a text once, twice, then deletes it and presses call instead.

“Hey Boss, let me guess. Keeley got a hold of you?”

It’s been a while since they’ve chatted, what with the time difference. It’s bizarre how familiar his American accent has become.

“She just left my office, yes.”

There’s a loud crack in the background and a metal clang.

“Where are you?”

“Oh, just the batting cages with Henry,” he says, cheering loudly. “Hey, do you guys have a sport called baseball that has nothing to do with American baseball? You know, like football and football?”

She chuckles, “I don’t believe we do. However there is always cricket.”

He hums, considering it.

“Now Ted, I think there’s something you should know.”

“Lay it on me Boss. I know I caused a headache this morning, what’s the damage? What do you need me to do? I am at your disposal or I’ll lay really, really low as long as you need me to.”

“It’s not that Ted. It’s Keeley.”

“Keeley?”

“Yes, she’s on a bit of a mission at the moment. It seems you left her off your Close Friends list? I think that’s right. On Instagram?”

“Huh. How did that come up?”

“I was telling her about Jim Bob’s. Apparently she had never heard of it and realized you had a whole social media life she was unaware of.”

“Right . . .”

“So do what you will with that.”

“You haven’t talked to anyone else about this yet, have you?”

Rebecca is confused by this new direction.

“No. Why? Ted, is something wrong?”

It takes a long moment for Ted to respond.

“What can I say, I’m just really bad at this social media stuff.”

It's a non-response and an overly folksy one at that. But Rebecca can’t be fooled by the aw shucks routine—not anymore. She tries again.

“Ted. Who is on your close friends list?”

“Uh. Not a lot of people.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“What can I say?” He huffs, a little frustrated. She would feel bad for prying, but she can't help herself. “The list of people I want to share silly life things with is small.”

“How small?” she wonders.

“Very small.”

The line goes silent and Rebecca swears she lost him. But then she hears him take a deep breath.

“It’s you. You’re the list.”

Rebecca feels flush. That’s not where she was expecting this conversation to go.

“I know that might be a lot. You don’t have to say anything. I just, that’s the honest truth and I’d like to get ahead of it before Keeley harangues the entire team.”

It’s a lot to take in, but it makes sense. Sometimes when she’s watching his posts, she wonders about his audience. Who else cares about his biscuit recipe improvements or Broadway Sundays (a recent development that’s turned into a shared movie night.)

“Rebecca?”

She realizes she’s been quiet for a while. The moment feels tenuous and she worries about saying the wrong thing, sending him running faster than Keeley during a social media snafu.

Finally she settles on, “You know, you’re welcome to text me silly life things. It wouldn’t be a bother.”

She brushes invisible crumbs from her desk, listening carefully to his breathing on the other end of the line.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Maybe I can send some, too?”

Rebecca can hear his smile from across the Atlantic.

“Well, alright then.”

****

That night, Ted’s phone pings and he rolls over to see a text message from Rebecca. It’s a picture of the sun rising over her garden wall.

Something silly to start the day.

But it doesn’t feel silly. Not at all.

#ted lasso #ted lasso fic #some fluff #because a plot bunny got in the way of what I planned to write this weekend #I blame the Easter bunny #ted x rebecca

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skelebonecentral · 4 years ago

Text

Hothouse Rose chapter 2

more with the skele sweeties (lust boys show up next chapter i promise)

words under the cut

Sans…felt better.

Therapy worked, who knew? Well, Toriel had been telling him to go, Alphys had, too, and he finally listened because he just couldn’t lose Papyrus.

The therapist was nice, he’d done a lot of research before choosing one, and they listened. He wasn’t usually as talkative, but if you don’t talk to a therapist, they can’t help. So he talked.

About losing their dad, about raising Papyrus by himself, about running six jobs just to keep the rent on the house up and let Papyrus continue training for the guard. About feeling de ja vu for months at a time and not being able to fix the machine that would maybe bring their dad back and having the burden of knowing he had the knowledge to help others but was so incompetent he couldn’t. Then there was acting as the Judge of the underground. That was a whole other thing that he hadn’t even told Papyrus about.

But it felt good to finally spill all the secrets that had weighed him down, especially knowing that nobody else would be told. He had more energy now, since he didn’t spend as much time on worrying. Well, that and the medication. A lot of healers from the underground had started working with humans to develop medicines that would be effective for monster patients, and he was using one of them. It was a real relief, not feeling like a weight was sitting on his head all day, or that he was the only one trying to help anybody.

Of course, having more energy made him work harder on things. His various jobs, his jokes, and working on the machine. It was actually nearly done, just needed testing, and it sparked a hope in Sans for the first time in a long time. Maybe he could do this. Maybe, now that his head wasn’t clogged with negative thoughts about the world and himself, he could fix this thing and bring back his dad. Would he be proud? Angry? He didn’t know.

He also didn’t realize the machine was in the ‘on’ state when he first plugged it in, and thus was utterly shocked when it sputtered and whirred to life…before violently exploding.

---

Normally, you’d be so happy about moving into a proper house this semester, and for the first few days, you had been.

But normally was not what was happening right now. Papyrus didn’t come to class for two weeks, and you were very worried.

You knew, from his texts, that he was okay, but it really didn’t make sense what he was saying.

“PLEASE GET MY WORK FROM CLASS FOR A FEW DAYS? SOMETHING VERY LARGE HAS HAPPENED.”

“HELP ME, PLEASE, THEY ARE ALL DRIVING ME UP THE WALL. LITERALLY, I AM USING BLUE MAGIC TO CLING TO THE CEILING AT THIS POINT TO GET AWAY FROM THEM ALL.”

“I HAVE TO MOVE HOUSE. WELL, TO BE ACCURATE, I HAVE TO MOVE MY STUFF TO A NEW HOUSE.”

Those were just some examples of the things he’d sent you, and you had been gathering the information for him on what had gone on during each of his missed lectures (at least the ones you had with him). Still, it was not like Papyrus to miss school, at all.

But at least your classes were not harsh on attendance as long as work got done, and Papyrus had been sending all his assignments in.

Finally, after almost another full week, you get a phone call, “Y/N! FINALLY! I’LL BE IN SCHOOL TOMORROW.”

“Thank goodness. What happened? I couldn’t piece it together from your messages,” you ask, very concerned.

“OH. WELL, IN SHORT, MY COUSINS APPEARED OUT OF THIN AIR AND ARE NOW LIVING WITH US. THAT’S WHY SANS AND I HAD TO MOVE, OUR HOUSE WAS GOING TO EXPLODE. THERE WERE ONLY THE TWO OF US, AND TWO TURNED INTO EIGHT, SO WE MOVED! WE’RE STILL CLOSE ENOUGH THAT IT’S NO TROUBLE FOR ME TO RUN TO SCHOOL, BUT WE’RE OVER IN THE…WELL, MY COUSIN SPICE CALLED IT ‘FANCY TOWN’.”

“You mean that edition on the west side with all the weird mansions?”

“YES! WE’RE IN A WEIRD MANSION THAT LOOKS LIKE A FRAT HOUSE. BIG COLUMNS, BRICK FRONT, COLONIAL LOOKING.”

“Okay. Wow, yeah, family emergency makes a lot of sense now that you say that. I’m just glad you weren’t sick or something, Papy. I’d be so lost without you.” You feel your face heat up saying it out loud, but it was true. These three weeks had been torment without his bubbly commentary and gentle pushing to do better. Everything had seemed very empty without Papyrus around.

“Y/N, MY DEAREST FRIEND, I DO SECOND THAT, BUT ABOUT YOU!” you could hear him clicking a pen over and over on the other side of the line, and that told you he was anxious, “IT’S BEEN SO HARD TO KEEP MY PATIENCE WITH MY COUSINS WITHOUT THE BREAK GOING TO CLASS AND BEING WITH YOU GIVES ME. YOU JUST GET ME WITHOUT EVEN THINKING ABOUT IT. MAYBE…MAYBE I CAN COME OVER AND WE CAN DO THAT ALIEN WARLORDS OF JUSTICE MARATHON THIS WEEKEND?”

“Consider it done, Papyrus, I have missed you far too much to ever say no to a famous Papyrus sleepover. Do you want me to invite Frisk, too?” You just wanted to be with him again, no matter what form that took.

“YES! BUT ALSO NO. I THINK I WANT SOME ADULT TO ADULT TALKING TIME AWAY FROM THIS MAD HOUSE MORE THAN I WANT SILLY FRIENDSHIP DOODLES OR SOMETHING. I WANT TO RELAX, AND NOT WORRY ABOUT MISS TORIEL BEING ANGRY IF I MESS UP.”

Aw, Papyrus, the sweetheart. “Then just us, the show, and some popcorn and soda and maybe candy? Sound good?”

“I AM ALMOST CRYING I’M SO READY! I’LL SEE YOU TOMORROW?”

“Without a doubt,” you giggle, “Love you, Papy.”

“I LOVE YOU, TOO! BYE BYE!”

It felt good to say it out loud. You loved Papyrus, that was not in argument at all, and hadn’t been since the incident with Sans. It’d been more than six months now since then, and you’d actually gotten on good terms with the other brother. You’d hear his deep voice mumble something over the phone on occasion and Papyrus would begrudgingly tell you what Sans had said, and when you did occasionally run into Sans at one of his odd jobs (or on campus coming out of the science building) you’d engage in small talk and your mutual admiration of Papyrus.

You weren’t afraid of the little guy anymore (he was just as tall as you, but much smaller than Papyrus so he seemed small) and would actually tentatively say you were friends. You had his number now and occasionally would get jokes texted to you specifically about language. He seemed to have remembered you were in linguistics, and was making the effort to connect on that. You’d send him back gifs of skeletons doing weird things, and that seemed to go over well.

So now you weren’t surprised when you got a text.

Punny bones: no matter how kind you are, german kids will always be kinder.

You laugh and text back.

You: so I guess papy told you about the sleepover?

Punny bones: yeah. he yelled so loud everybody in the house heard him. did he tell u about the cousins?

You: just that they’re driving him crazy and he wants some time away. Hence accepting his idea about the sleepover.

Punny bones: heh. He needs it. hard to compress eight different personalities into one house, so this is good for him. remember to lock the door, though? plz?

You: 😊 yes sans~

It had really surprised you when he’d started ending his texts to you asking you to be safe and reminding you of small things, like smoke detectors and door screws. He had stopped being afraid OF you and started being afraid FOR you. It was kind of nice, even if you didn’t quite know what had happened in his mind to flip that switch.

He still would apologize to you on occasion for his initial behavior, and you had told him you’d forgiven him. You had, of course, because you realized you thought about doing a very similar thing when you found out some human child you didn’t know had started making friends with Frisk. To be fair, it’s because you’d seen their parents and they were rich, making them very suspicious to you, but it helped you realize Sans’ actions weren’t THAT outside the realm of normal thought.

Still, that was Sans. Your thoughts were more toward Papyrus at the moment.

You gave Papyrus a bear hug when you saw him the next day, and pretty much every morning thereafter until the weekend. This would be his first sleepover in your new house, and your plant-crazy roomie was out on a research trip.

“YES! WE WILL WATCH OUR WONDERFUL SHOW ON YOUR COOL TV AND RECONNECT PROPERLY!” he cooed as he set up his sleeping bag in the living room. “AH, I CAN’T EVEN TELL YOU HOW MUCH MORE COMFORTABLE I AM ALREADY JUST KNOWING I CAN SLEEP WITHOUT SIX OF MY COUSINS MAKING NOISE AT ALL HOURS!”

“Isn’t that all of your cousins?”

“YES!”

Ah you’d missed his jokes while he was gone. “Anyway, what do you want for dinner? We making it together or you want me to surprise you?”

“PLEASE LET ME MAKE IT WITH YOU! AND I’D LIKE SOME SIMPLE, HOME MADE SOMETHING OR OTHER. I’M SO TIRED OF THE TAKE OUT WE’VE BEEN EATING NONSTOP JUST TO KEEP US ALL FROM FIGHTING OVER WHO IS COOKING.” He did look tired, which was unusual for Papyrus, but you knew he’d perk up after a break.

“Okay, how about French bread pizza? I made the sauce for it yesterday since I knew you’d be over,” you headed to the kitchen and Papyrus followed, pulling his apron out of his inventory. It was pink and said “My kitchen, my rules” on the front in white letters.

“PERFECT! I WILL ASSIST YOU IN CUTTING UP THE TOPPINGS!” He had gotten a lot better at cooking since the two of you had first become friends, and now you more than trusted Papyrus to not turn your ingredients into confetti.

The evening was golden, just the two of you cheering for your favorite show, exchanging theories and popcorn, and diving into the lore on the internet afterward, in your room.

It was getting late, and you yawned, but didn’t move. You just…you wanted to stay up with Papyrus. You’d missed him so badly and it felt like you were being cheated out of time with him if you went to sleep.

But he noticed, as he always did, and asked, “FRIEND, YOU’RE TIRED. GO TO BED AND I WILL BE MORE THAN HAPPY ON MY OWN. I WANT TO EXPLORE YOUR NEW HOUSE.”

Running on fumes as you were, your next thought left your mouth before you could really think about it, “Only if you stay with me till I’m asleep.”

Papyrus looked at you a moment, a slow creep of orange blush creeping over his cheekbones, then said, “UM…Y/N, I’D BE HAPPY TO, BUT I’D FEEL BETTER IF I SAID SOMETHING FIRST. IS THAT ALRIGHT?”

“Y-yeah, of course.” You got up and sat on your bed, watching as Papyrus sat backwards in the computer chair you’d vacated.

“YOU KNOW, IT’S BEEN A FEW YEARS OF US KNOWING EACH OTHER, AND IT’S BEEN AMAZING.” He smiles but can’t quite look at you, “AND, WELL, IF I’M HONEST WITH MYSELF, AND I ALWAYS TRY TO BE! THEN I HAVE TO SAY I’VE GROWN TO COUNT ON YOU AS A STAPLE IN MY LIFE. YOU’VE HELPED ME FIND AN AVENUE FOR MY PASSIONS, BEEN A WONDERFUL FRIEND, AND HELPED SANS SEE HE NEEDED TO SEE SOMEONE FOR TREATMENT.”

You take his hand when he holds it out, and smile.

“YOU’VE DONE SO MUCH, ALL THESE LITTLE THINGS, AND….AND I’D REALLY LIKE TO ASK IF YOU WANTED TO TRY A GROWN-UP DATE. WITH ME. N-NOT THE CUTE LITTLE TEENAGER DATE I PLAYED AT WITH FRISK, MIND YOU! SO…SO WOULD THAT BE OKAY? US DATING?” He had such a shy, nervous tilt to his smile, and you felt yourself tumble over the edge of affection as you squeezed his hand.

“That sounds fun, Papyrus. I’m very lucky if I get to call you my boyfriend,” you beam as you’re tackled onto the bed by a happy skeleton, hugging him tight as he nuzzles into you.

“NYOOHOOHOO YOU’RE TOO SWEET! MY DATEMATE! MY BEST FRIEND IN THE WORLD! I LOVE YOU!”

His teeth are tickling your neck and you wriggle, “Papyrus! I love you, too, but stooooooop, hahaha! You’re tickling meeeee!”

He gets up a bit and smiles, “SORRY NOT SORRY! BUT YES, NOW WE CAN CUDDLE WHILE YOU FALL ASLEEP AND THEN I WILL EXPLORE YOUR HOUSE WHEN I CAN’T FOLLOW YOU.”

You have to catch your breath, but your cheeks are burning while you scoot under your covers and hold them open for him. He slips in very gingerly and soon you’re bundled up to his chest. He’s warm, as always, and can’t seem to stop his million watt smile. You don’t blame him; it feels like there is a sun in your chest from the pure joy his question had brought to you. Papyrus was everything you’d ever wanted in a friend, and you can’t imagine ever having a life without him in it. It just seemed natural to date him, and clearly he felt the same about you.

Safe and happy, you fall asleep very easily in his arms.

Dating Papyrus was exactly the same as being his friend, except now you’d hold hands a lot more and occasionally he’d nuzzle his teeth to your forehead and go “MWAH!” very loudly.

Sans had texted you the morning after your sleepover.

Punny bones: congrats on being the new datemate

You just stared at it, then looked up at Papyrus (who had made you breakfast) who was blushing, “I’M SORRY! I WAS JUST SO EXCITED THAT I TEXTED HIM AFTER YOU FELL ASLEEP.”

Shaking your head, you’d just sent an emoji of sticking your tongue out to Sans.

Punny bones: aww u r shy~ Punny bones: he told me he was gonna ask you weeks ago. Punny bones: only like 2 days without you and he was ready.

“WHAT IS HE SAYING?!” Papyrus looked over your phone and groaned, and you’d had to nurse his bruised ego a little afterward because his big brother was embarrassing him.

Still, you were both happy that Papyrus was excited, and proud that Sans had bettered his thoughts enough to react positively to this news.

Understandably, you had Papyrus over to your house several more times, mostly to have private movie viewings rather like your first sleepover. It was just more your speed, and his, to have dates just be the two of you doing something fun. Of course, you had a few at Bungle Land, cause who doesn’t like cute clumsy cartoon parrots, and going to see premieres at the theaters or eat at a nice place, but the vast majority of your weekly official dates were spent in your pjs on the sofa with Papyrus curled around your body as you watched movies.

Sometime during your dating, your roommate moved out. She transferred to a college with a better botony program and more specializations for masters’ degrees, so you bid her a fond goodbye and kept in touch by text. Sure, you hadn’t been super close friends, but she’d still been a great roomie and had been all for your relationship with a sweetheart like Papyrus. It hit all those rom-com beats that made you both squeal happily.

He was a very physical person, Papyrus, so you got hugs often and he tended to just like holding you. It made you feel very good, even if sometimes you both ended up getting tangled because he was so long-limbed. Your hair was fascinating to him, and he’d stroke it gently when his hands weren’t otherwise busy.

“YOU ARE SO SOFT ALL OVER. IT’S VERY ATTRACTIVE! I’M JUST GLAD MTT PUT OUT SPECIAL CREAMS TO MAKE MY BONES MORE FLEXIBLE AND TENDER!” He said one night as you both were walking home from a musical at the campus theater.

You laughed, and he squeezed your hand gently, “You don’t need to be softer, Papyrus. I already adore your strong bones and the only part of you that is soft is your heart, and that’s the most perfect kind to have.”

“I DON’T HAVE A HEART THOUGH?” he acted clueless, and you smack his arm gently and get him to giggle as you caught him in his jest. “WELL I DON’T! I GAVE IT TO YOU!”

You gently tug on his scarf and he leans down while you get on your tiptoes, giving him a soft kiss on the teeth that makes him hum wistfully. Then you both flinch back as a siren sounds, a firetruck zooming from a corner nearby and down the street.

Looking up you feel your stomach drop as you see the smoke. “Papy, is that coming from my house?”

He picks you up and starts sprinting after the firetruck, you holding tight to his neck and praying you were wrong. But as the two of you ran up to the front of your house, you saw the fire department spraying water on your blazing home and police cordoning off the area.

“Oh no…” you felt your self start to shake, even as your vision tunneled.

Papyrus holds you tighter and you start sobbing, hiding your face in his shoulder as he murmurs, “It will be alright, Y/n. I’m right here. We’ll figure this out. Do you want to stay at a hotel tonight?”

“I don’t want to be alone,” you wheeze, out of breath from crying already.

“You won’t be.” He did not let you go, not even when the police came to question you two. He handled the answering since you were too broken to speak. Realizing there was nothing you can do to help them, the men leave you two alone, telling you to find a place to stay and they’ll call you when it’s safe for you to pick through the debris.

Papyrus calls Sans as he walks, easily holding you while using his magic to hold the phone close to his skull, “Sans, I’m staying with Y/n tonight. N-no no I’m alright, it’s just that…their house has burned down. No, we were out at the theater, remember? Right. Yes, I’m taking them ther- Oh. Yes, that’s probably best. Thank you, Sans.”

Sans appears and looks frantic, but seeing you both unharmed and soot-less, he relaxes a little, “heya, pal. stars, I’m sorry this happened. let’s use one of my shortcuts to get you to a hotel. long walk otherwise and you need rest.”

Papyrus keeps hold of you as Sans takes you both through a surprisingly short distance to…

“Oh, Mettaton’s hotel,” you manage to say, and Sans smiles up at you, clearly stressed from the tightness in the edges of his grin.

“felix is workin’ tonight, and he won’t ask rude questions. Specially if I’m here. just sit in the chairs and I’ll take care of this. least I can do for ya,” he was really searching your face, looking for any sign of more he could do.

“Thank you, Sans. Really I…I just want to go to bed.”

“that I can do. stay with them, pap?”

Papyrus has walked you into the lobby and sets you delicately in one of the plush magenta chairs inside, “THAT WAS THE PLAN, YES.”

“okay,” Sans gives your hand a supportive squeeze, sighing through his nose a bit, “hang tight, pal.” Sans takes care of everything, and Papyrus stays by you, getting out his handkerchief and drying your face for you. “THERE, DEAREST. WE WILL RELAX TONIGHT AND FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO IN THE MORNING.”

You just nod, leaning into his touch gratefully.

The room is very nice, smelling of make-up and perfume, and the sheets on the single, queen sized bed are soft. You aren’t surprised when there’s two pairs of pajamas lying folded on the bed, after all, this is MTT’s place and he likes his guests to feel “SUPER FABULOUS, darling!”

“OH GOOD,” Papyrus smiles as he takes up one pair, “I WAS WORRIED WHAT WE WOULD SLEEP IN.”

You pick up your set, “I’ll change in the bathroom and you can use this room. I need to shower anyway.”

“TAKE YOUR TIME, LOVE,” he nuzzles you softly, “I WILL ALWAYS BE HERE, JUST TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.”

You kiss his cheekbone and head to the bathroom, running the water and finding your mind focusing on the taps. The temperature gauge has markers for “monster level cold”, “human cold”, “human hot”, and “monster hot”. You smile, turning them to “human hot” and stepping in after shedding your clothes.

The warm water helps ease your body, releasing the tension, but it also lets you sit on the provided ledge and cry. Your home is gone, you don’t know how much of your belongings survived the fire, much less the water, and you don’t know where you’re going to go.

After an unknown amount of time, you hear a knock, “Y/N? IT’S BEEN QUITE A WHILE. ARE YOU ALRIGHT? WELL, AS ALRIGHT AS YOU CAN BE?”

“I’m fine,” you call back. “Just lost track of time. I’ll be out in a moment.”

“OKAY. REMEMBER, I LOVE YOU.”

“I know, thank you,” you really appreciate the reminder. You aren’t alone tonight, and you aren’t unsupported. Papyrus will help you, and make sure things work out for the best. You get your bath quickly, the magic in the soaps helping you feel better before drying off on the warm towels and stepping back into your underwear before putting on the pajamas. It just felt weird to wear clothes without underwear, you don’t know why.

Papyrus is sitting in the bed, smiling at you as you come over in the soft, warm light from the bedside lamp on the near side. Climbing in next to him, you sigh, turning off the light before lying down and snuggling in close.

“You know I will do anything you need me to, correct?” Papyrus asks, whispering.

“I know, Papy. I’m really glad you’re here,” you cling to him, needing the comfort. “I just need you to be with me right now. I’ll tell you if I think of anything else.”

“Of course,” his ribs began to vibrate just a bit, and you smiled softly. That was his ‘purr’, that you had discovered on one of your first outings together. “Your wish is my command, Y/n. Goodnight, and rest well.”

“Night, Papy. I love you.”

It was three hours since Y/n had fallen asleep, and Papyrus felt secure enough in their continued rest to get up. Heading into the bathroom, he sat on the closed lid of the toilet and dialed the number of one of his cousins, who he was absolutely certain was up.

“Hello, Papyrus, dear! It’s good to hear from you,” came the cheery, energetic voice on the other end.

“HELLO CHARM,” Papyrus sighed, “DID SANS TELL YOU ALL WHY I WASN’T HOME TONIGHT?”

“No, but we’d hoped you and your lovely were together.”

“WELL, YOU’RE HALF RIGHT. I’M WITH THEM BUT NOT FOR GOOD REASONS. THEIR HOME HAS BURNED DOWN.”

There was a gasp and something rattled off a table, “Papyrus! Are they alright? Are you at the hospital?”

“NO, NO, NOTHING LIKE THAT. WE WERE BOTH OUT AT THE THEATER AND CAME BACK TO FIND IT ENGULFED. THEY’RE ASLEEP NOW BUT I NEEDED TO TALK TO SOMEONE AND YOU’RE THE MOST RELIABLE AND LIKELY TO STILL BE AWAKE.”

Relief, and a small laugh, “Oh, well, that makes me feel good. And good on you, staying by their side when they’re having a very bad experience. You’re a very good partner, if I may say so for them.”

That made Papyrus relax a little, smiling as he leaned his head on his hand, other knee jittering, “THANK YOU, CHARM. BUT WHAT I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IS WHAT DO WE DO FOR THEM? Y/N IS WITHOUT A HOME, AND WHILE I THINK I HAVE AN IDEA, I ALSO AM A LITTLE NERVOUS ABOUT PROPOSING IT.”

“Well, they can stay with us! They’re your partner, Papyrus, we aren’t going to be upset if you have them move in with you.”

His skull exploded in warmth and an orange glow, “CHARM! I-I WOULDN’T BE HAVING THEM IN MY ROOM! Y-YES, WE OCCASIONALLY SHARE, LIKE TONIGHT, BUT THEY NEED THEIR OWN SPACE. WE HAVEN’T….GOTTEN THAT FAR. RELATIONSHIPS MOVE SLOWER HERE, REMEMBER?”

“Oh. Sorry, dear, I forgot. Well, more accurately I was hoping to sort of push you because, GOODNESS, Cousin, they’re a catch and a half! But that’s not what makes you comfortable, and that’s okay.” A deep breath, and a more cheerful tone, “But we can always move Whip’s collection out of the room across from yours and have him put it elsewhere. That way they’re close to you, but you aren’t quite so…intimate.” He giggles and Papyrus can’t help joining as his nerves ease.

“AND YOU’RE SURE YOUR BROTHER AND THE OTHERS WON’T…BE OFFENDED?”

“No! No of course not, Papy, we’d do the same thing!” Charm scoffed then cooed, “No, my brother and I are all for helping the poor dear out, and you know Boa isn’t going to turn down a chance for someone to maybe befriend his brother. No, you tell them they’re more than welcome here, and if they decide to come, we’ll be there with bells on to help them get settled.”

“THANK YOU AGAIN, CHARM, I JUST REALLY…REALLY NEEDED SOME SUPPORT, TOO.”

“Oh cousin, what else is family for? We love you, so you try and relax with your lovely and I’ll talk to Boa so we can gang up on Whip and make him come around.” A laugh, teasing and very pleased, “Goodnight and good luck, Papyrus. Keep us posted.”

“I WILL. GOODNIGHT, CHARM!”

He hung up the phone and sighed, leaning back a bit. Thank goodness some of his cousins were relatively normal most of the time. Well, It was probably another five hours or so before Y/n would wake up, so now he had to occupy himself. Thank stars MTT rooms all came with bookcases full of Mettaton’s various memoirs!

---

It was hard to wake up, mostly because you thought you were at home at first before you opened your eyes.

Papyrus was sitting in a by the window, reading a book from the shelves in the room, and everything was ridiculously sumptuous and glittery. That pulled you out of your sleep and through confusion before landing on devastation.

“Good morning,” you say halfheartedly, and Papyrus looks up.

“GOOD MORNING, DEAR. I’M GLAD YOU SLEPT WELL, AS THE POLICE LEFT A MESSAGE FOR YOU A MOMENT AGO. I’VE ALSO BEEN LOOKING FOR OPTIONS FOR YOU TO STAY AT, BUT BEING THE MIDDLE OF THE SEMESTER, EVERYTHING SEEMS FULL UP. I ALSO EMAILED ALL OUR PROFESSORS, SO YOU HAVE AT LEAST THREE DAYS OFF CLASS TO DEAL WITH THIS. I’M AFRAID YOU’LL HAVE TO ASK IN PERSON IF YOU NEED MORE.” Well, your lovely skeleton had been quite busy, and helpful, as always.

“Thank you. I hadn’t even thought about class till you mentioned it,” you get up and sigh, not quite knowing what to do, “I guess I’ll just…go home? Maybe drop the semester and save up to try again?”

“NOT IF YOU DON’T WANT TO!” Papyrus blushed a little, “YOU DO REALIZE I HAVE A VERY LARGE HOUSE THAT YOU COULD HAVE A ROOM IN, RIGHT? WELL, SANS AND I HAVE A VERY LARGE HOUSE, BUT THAT’S SEMANTICS.” He was holding his own hands, head tilted slightly down so you knew he was looking upward at you, hopeful. “I CLEARED IT WITH MY MORE ENERGETIC COUSINS LAST NIGHT AND GOT A TEXT THIS MORNING THAT THE VOTE IS SEVEN TO ONE FOR YOU BEING WELCOMED IN.”

You really don’t want to cry but you can’t help it, and Papyrus moves to pull you back to sit on the bed with him. He holds you tight, “Papyrus, you’re just so good! I don’t…Are you sure?” You clung to the very soft fabric of his provided pajamas, “I don’t want to, to upset your cousins or overload your house.”

“OH, YOU WON’T. YOU’RE A WONDERFUL PERSON, AND YOU KNOW SANS AND I ARE IN YOUR CORNER NOW. I JUST KNOW YOU’D RATHER NOT WASTE THE TIME AND MONEY YOU SPENT THIS SEMESTER, AND GOODNESS KNOWS IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT YOUR HOUSE DECIDED TO INVITE FIRE OVER.”

That gets you to laugh through the tears, “Oh, I didn’t know my house decided to do that. I should complain to Grillby, then?”

“WELL, YES,” Papyrus gives you a squeeze and nuzzles your hair, “IT WAS VERY RUDE OF HIM TO WALK INTO YOUR HOUSE WITH HIS WHOLE FAMILY AND MAKE SUCH A MESS.” He laughs softly, too close for a full volume one, “OH, DEAREST, YOU REALLY ARE A WITTY ONE. NO, DON’T BOTHER THAT POOR MAN, HE ALREADY HAD TO DEAL WITH SANS AFTER ALL.”

The tears are drying as you continue to giggle, squealing when Papyrus turns your hug into a tickle fight that he obviously wins.

“HAHA! THE GREAT PAPYRUS WINS A VICTORY OVER SADNESS ONCE AGAIN!” he declares as he finally lets you breathe and hops up, “NOW, I HAD YOUR CLOTHES FROM YESTERDAY CLEANED BY THE COMPLIMENTARY LAUNDRY SERVICE, AND THEY’RE IN THE BATHROOM FRESH FOR YOU. W-WELL MOST OF THEM ARE FRESH; I COULDN’T,” he looks away and his smile gets wobbly in nerves, “I COULDN’T TOUCH YOUR UNDERTHINGS WITHOUT YOUR PERMISSION SO THEY AREN’T.”

You blink, then hold in a snort of laughter. “I forget monsters consider socks underwear. Oh, Papyrus, I love you so much. I don’t need them cleaned, don’t worry.” Getting up, you pull him down for a kiss on the cheekbone, “And you have my permission to touch any laundry of mine you like and move it if you see fit. I trust you to treat them kindly.”

He exploded in orange all over his skull, and you giggle as you head into the bathroom. You’d never ever get tired of him, your utter gentleman in shining cardboard armor.

Papyrus was more than eager on the bus ride back toward your home. He babbled about how you’d love his cousins, and that some of them were almost as cool as he was (you didn’t doubt that, but how?) But he also was fiddling with a notebook to have it ready to make a list of things you needed to replace.

That was going to suck. Going through the rubble was going to be awful. The message the police left said that they were working on determining a cause for the fire, but that they’d left a few things they’d found in a bin for you with the person guarding the site.

That person turned out to be Dogamy, a large, floppy eared dog monster with fur resembling a mustache on his upper lip and a very large axe, and Papyrus ran over and got a hug. “DEAR COMMRADE! HELLO! IT’S SO NICE TO SEE YOU!”

“it’s good to see you, too, Papyrus.” He was wagging his tail and smiled, “I made sure nobody touched this place till you and your date got back. Now that’s done, though, so I do have to be off. Other places to guard, you know.”

“YES OF COURSE! THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN!”

You shyly echoed his thanks, and Dogamy nodded before running off quickly…on all fours. Oh.

Picking up the bin he’d left behind, you sighed. Scorched frames holding photos, a few plates and cups that happened to be ceramic, and what looked like your whole silverware drawer, sat in the bottom of it.

Looking around, your living room and kitchen were gutted, as was your roommate’s former room, and the wall that led to your bedroom. Papyrus helped you get the door open (it had warped) and you found a lot of water damage on the floor, but it was otherwise mostly intact.

Well, that was what you wanted to say, but you just knew you were in the realm of “nothing but the clothes on their back” (well, and the pajamas, those are included in the room fee) and it felt BAD.

Papyrus has his finger up to his teeth, one arm crossed over his chest and tapping his foot, “YOU KNOW, UNDYNE’S HOUSE BURNED DOWN ALL THE TIME UNDERGROUND. I KNOW JUST ABOUT WHAT CAN BE SAVED AND WHAT CAN’T, BUT I DON’T THINK I CAN DO THIS WITH JUST THE TWO OF US. WOULD YOU BE OKAY IF I CALL MY COUSINS AND GET AT LEAST TWO OF THEM DOWN HERE TO HELP?”

Staring at your bedroom, all the grime everywhere, you just nod.

Papyrus goes into a corner and holds his phone up, “CHARM? GET BOA AND HAVE SANS BRING YOU TO Y/N’S PLACE. HM? OH, YES, THEY AGREED TO MOVE IN.” He jumps a bit and you can hear cheering from the phone. You smile a bit; at least you know you’re wanted where you’re going.

#hothouse rose #reader x papyrus #undertale fic

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ubemango · 5 years ago

Text

commission 2: bestie!jk and the case of the Stupid Bag (amongst other things)

(+ and even more convolutedly, a rich&spoiled!oc/humble!jk besties au)

I wanna say that the ending is as abrupt as it is because conversations between best friends just Go Places but really. just. This whole drabble really just Went Places SPWWPSHSWPGPW.......thank you to Fina @angelguk for helping me out, and a biiiiiig big thank u to my friend for commissioning me this piece. Ur the best, happy Super Super Super Late Birthday!!!!!!!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰💖💖💖💖💖

The streetlights hurt to look at. It’s too early for your eyes to process, and you’re a second from nodding off for the third time when Jeongguk nudges you up.

“Stop sleeping.”

You yawn. “I’m not the one driving.”

It’s not even his car. You would’ve been happy picking him and letting him drive, but then he would’ve been mad if you didn’t let him pay gas. “If you sleep then I’ll sleep too.”

“No you won’t,” you grumble. “It’s your fault for wanting to see the sunrise.”

“You said you wanted to do it on your birthday!” He complains. It’s good that you’re cloaked with the dark: he can’t see the sheepish downturn of your mouth, because he’s not wrong. You genuinely did want to see the sunrise today, but getting past that stage of Actually Waking Up was really difficult to do. You sit still with the muddled fog of bad sleep. “We’re not even that far from the mountain.”

You can’t deny the looming mass of rock that sits jagged on the horizon. The outline of the steps you’ll be climbing soon are shrouded in the peak of dawn—hardly visible, especially with the way your vision blurs. “All the more reason for me to nap.”

Even if it is for two minutes. Jeongguk doesn’t argue when you slump in on yourself, succumbing to that inevitable wave of pre-sunlight fatigue.

The car door slams you awake. In the two seconds it takes you to reorient your brain, Jeongguk’s got your door open.

“Up and at ‘em, princess. Sun’s peeking and we’re wasting the minutes.”

You feel him reach over to unbuckle your seatbelt. “I can’t.”

“We’re hiking whether you like it or not,” he sneers. “I’ve been waiting so long for nice nature shots since you got me this camera. Now—“

“—Ugh!”

He’s got a tight fist on your arm, hauling you out from the comfortable heat of the car. It’s just as cold as you anticipated. Jeongguk doesn’t cower from the punch you land on his chest.

“I’m so tired,” you say, reaching over the console for your bag, threatening an ache in the middle of your back. “And my back hurts.”

He ignores you, rounding the rear to grab whatever he’d stuffed there before he came to pick you up. (There’s a text with a four AM time stamp in your phone that reads Which penthouse am I coming to again?) “Gucci must be so heavy on your poor back,” you hear him snicker.

“It’s small and it makes me look dainty,” you hiss. “Like my shoes.”

“Your Destructors?”

You frown, meeting him where he rummages. “They’re called Disruptors!”

“They’ll never make up for your alien toes,” Jeongguk argues.

“I’m not standing here for you to berate me. Ha! Wrong berate. You’re here to cele-berate me—ow.”

He gives you a pointed look. Probably for that awful joke, and by your standards wasn’t even that bad; it was pretty witty considering your GPA this year reflected absolutely no sense of critical thinking.

No matter, because he doesn’t even apologize for nearly whacking you with his massive-for-no-reason military bag.

“She’s so big,” you point out.

It really is, woven tight with extremely dense fibre: like some sort of green, rectangular boulder with way too many pockets for the camera equipment and whatever else Jeongguk’s got stuffed in there. His shoulders sag with the weight of it all, and he closes the back door shut.

“That’s what she said,” he comments. He trudges off before you can hit him again for his own poor choice of humour, the beep of the car cutting through your sputtering.

“But like—“ you speed-walk to his side—(you don’t even know how he got to the fifth step that quickly, but then again you’re literally on the brink of brain dead)— “I didn’t even bring that much.”

“It’s fine, it’s just camera stuff, other stuff. You wanna see something?”

“Sure.”

“You see this?” He sticks a finger in the pocket and traces the circumference. “An inner layer of thermodynamic shit. Keeps things hot. Like if you ever take me to a country with those vending machine coffee cups. You can’t do that because you don’t have this bag.”

You frown at the hostility. It’s an ugly bag, but you’re too tired to fight. “So like—to Japan.”

Jeongguk huffs up the steps. “Sure.”

“Then let’s go.” The lamp post at this level flickers off with a quiet zap. You can see the sun starting to bleed out past the stars. “I can use the plane this weekend, we can go—“

Before you can catch yourself, Jeongguk says your name in polite warning. “I don’t need that pretty stuff.”

You keep your stride, cheeks burning hot. Jeongguk’s nice like that. It’s what you appreciate most about him: pushing you past those boundaries of discomfort you’ve been taught never to cross because if you didn’t like something, you stayed pliant for everyone’s best interest.

Jeongguk’s not pliant, though. He’s assertive with that nice humbleness you’ve never known. Adolescence was a different time, when he’d gotten into your private academy out of his sheer brain power alone. No amount of daddy-manufactured money could get you or your classmates his smarts, and they hadn’t appreciated the poor, newbie boy-genius stealing their guaranteed (or: paid for) placements in the work place beyond. But you’d taken an immediate liking to that shy student cowering in the back—though he still had all the answers to the homework questions if he was inclined to answer.

The very first time you’d tried to offer him a ride home in your helicopter, he’d been livid.

“You can’t—think about the environmental impact! The fuel extracted for such a short trip! Do you know how many villages have been destroyed by Gildan for the sake of extraction?!”

(You hadn’t. But he’d told you, and proceeded to take the bus home like he was so used to doing.)

“You don’t need it,” you sigh. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Jeongguk shrugs. “I mean—it’s what you know. And I don’t blame you. But you know how much pollutants come out of private jets—it just…wouldn’t kill you to demote to, like, first class.”

It’s funny, how much you’ve had conversations like these. The instinct to help him out, his kind rejections. Because you’ve learned now that issues aren’t solved with the expediency you’re given. Jeongguk doesn’t get to have that. And now that you’re in college, you’ve noticed that things really haven’t changed: Jeongguk’s gone astronomical amounts of ahead in terms of course level, and you’re just trying to keep up with the bare minimum credits. You’d feel bad for yourself but having the back-up of money in the form of inheritance really keeps you afloat from the pity.

“This is making me tired,” you complain. You’re pretty sure you’re way past the halfway mark of this mountain, but even you’re starting to feel antsy about missing those first few seconds of the sun waking up.

“We’re almost there. I can see the outpost from here.”

Jeongguk points to a wooden structure maybe sixty steps from where you’re approaching: built high over the scattered buildings an hour’s drive away, the flutter of an awakening city. Pretty industry made only for your viewing pleasure, because when you get up there, you won’t be looking at the home of scary corporate; the home you’re used to seeing, with your dad running a good third of that district.

It’ll just be the glass the sun will reflect on. The place so far away you don’t have to think about briefcases and dry-clean only suits.

It’s what you came here for—it’s been easy falling in that trap of indecisiveness. Not wanting what your future is set to be, because right now, the path to your economics degree is tenuous at best.

So you take the diverging route. And you’re finally at the outpost, out of breath. “The sun’s coming up,” you threaten. Jeongguk hurries up the steps as much as his bag allows, and when you reach the top, the fog in your head dissipates right into the wide skyline.

“Sometimes I want the whole world,” you announce.

Jeongguk settles his arms on the ledge, contemplating the rising sun. “You could get it if you tried.”

Maybe he should just say if you asked, but you know he’s too polite to do so.

“I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s okay not to,” he commends.

“But you’re so smart. And—you know what you’re doing. But I’m here taking Economics 101 for the second time and I don’t wanna end up in a law office anyway because my dad will get me there just like the rest of our classmates and you’re gonna be doing good things because you’re a great person who’s like, really socially aware, and I can’t do good things because I’m a bad and stupid person with a private jet.”

Jeongguk lets you deflate by yourself, ignoring your spiel for a second to drop that Ugly Bag on the ground. You hear him dig for something; the click of a knob, then a quick snap.

“Look at the sun,” is all he says.

It’s very small. And suddenly it’s not, expanding into bursts of light you aren’t ready for. Not because it hurts to look at but that sudden wave of silence settles fast. A feeling of finality—the beginning that always, always comes back, because new days are inevitable. “The sun is very big,” you sigh.

Jeongguk hums in agreement, takes another picture. “You’re not bad or stupid. Sure you don’t like economics and you hate school, like, in general. But that’s not your fault, just like owning that jet isn’t your fault. I think you forget some things.”

You pick at your manicure. You’re not so tired anymore. “Like what?”

“Like you’re the only person who talked to me the first week of school,” he goes on. “You offered me a ride home even though I was perfectly capable of taking the bus. You bought my parents groceries when you noticed I wasn’t eating lunch, and you told Seungkwan that you’d stick a wet finger in his ear if he didn’t stop making fun of me for having ugly shoes.”

You laugh. “Seungkwan had big ears and thought he had valid opinions.”

“Anyway—” Jeongguk snorts too—“I’m just saying. I know I—I know I talk a lot about… you doing bad things. Like with the whole plane thing.”

In other words: he’s not here to baby you. He never has. The world you've grown up in has never been kind to him or his parents, and he doesn’t have to keep you in check but he’ll do it for your sake—his, too. “You’re just being a good friend.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person,” he says. “It’s good that you’re owning up to those things. Like how you told your dad to veto the health benefit cuts that were under discussion.”

You freeze. You didn’t know he knew that. “How—“

“Who else would get the head of a whole corporate chain under their thumb in one night if not for a really stubborn daughter, who somehow managed to get him to veto a policy I complained about over text the morning I read it in the news?”

Point taken. The guy loves reading his news. Jeongguk lifts the camera once more, but this time points it to your face. “Ew—no!”

“Smile!”

“I’m ugly,” you pout.

“You’re not. Look.” He settles into your side again, into the growing life of the city you don’t love anymore. “Your life—you have… privileges. And you’re learning that you can do good things that your dad isn’t. I’m proud of you.”

“…Really?”

“I mean you have to start somewhere. And I’m really starting to think you didn’t just come to see the sunrise because you thought it’d be a cool thing for me to take pictures of on your birthday,” Jeongguk admits.

You nod. He’s too smart for you sometimes. “I… I kinda wanna switch majors.”

“To?”

“Something other than economics,” you reveal.

Jeongguk squints with apprehension. “Is this because I called your dad my favourite class enemy the other day because I—I’m so sorry. I know he’s your dad but—“

“It’s okay! He’s nice to me but not. To other people,” you fidget. Jeongguk sighs with relief. “But… yeah. You make me want to learn about that stuff. Because you’re right, I have the privilege. And I know have it and I just don’t wanna sound dumb and say wrong things because it’s so easy for me to and I hate that and I wanna—wanna learn and actually do good things. You know?”

Jeongguk nods. “I’m proud of you,” he says again. “Really. You’re doing good. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

He lets the heavy camera dangle around his neck. Lets the conversation drift into something more easy because he’s just as tired as you are. “So I know you’ve been thinking about how ugly my bag is.”

“It’s charming,” you divert. The sun is well past the horizon at this point, and invigoration has come in the form of wanting to go the fuck back to the car.

“You’re a liar. Look! There’s even this hole you can put a tube through for when you want to pack those bags of water, and more thermodynamic shit in this pocket—“

“I don’t care about thermodynamics!”

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #ubemango fic #f: commissions #drabble

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kris10tisme · 5 years ago

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Social Anxiety Origin Story

Social Anxiety is classified as a disorder. Isn’t that crazy!? You can actually read up on it on the MayoClinic or Webmd websites which shows that it really is a legitimate thing; it's not just you being a pussy. Most people who have social anxiety disorder don’t know what it is or why they’re like this. When we first become aware of our incomprehensible phobia we usually feel completely alien. People with this ailment tend to feel like the ultimate freaks, which knocks down their self esteem tenfold. If you have desperately searched online to potentially find answers: I feel you. The first time I felt a sense of belonging in this world was browsing through internet forums, reading about how people had the same irrational fears I did. You can find comfort in it sure, but it's definitely not the same as finding belonging in person. I didn’t know that I wasn’t completely alone in this struggle until I was maybe fifteen or sixteen years old navigating through my insufferable high school life! During that time google searches quickly became my best friend.

I can’t even really pinpoint where my SAD began for me. As a child I was pretty shy but I’d eventually open up once I became semi-comfortable. I didn’t ruminate whether or not I made some sort of fool of myself publicly. I was just having a blast man. Childhood is all fun and games but you really do get the carpet ripped out from under you when you enter adolescence.

I grew up a very privileged child financially - my parents both being middle class. My bills were all taken care of, and I didn't have to worry too much about the connections I would make with others in life. I was a kid. When a kid has no friends it's sad, but when an adult has no friends you wonder what they did wrong and you try to steer clear of them. There must be a reason why they are friendless: they must fetishize feet in their spare time! When you’re a child your only occupation is being a student. I’d wake up, go to school, learn stuff, socialize a bit among peers and then go home to watch TV and repeat, not questioning or overthinking the minutiae or idiosyncrasies in my life; just living day by day. Everything was smooth sailing. I figured I would hit my peak as a teenager and do all the cool teenagery things I saw on television like going to parties, making the cheerleading squad (though I’m not athletic at all; it would just happen), and have a tumultuous relationship with several boys. I’d pick the most special one to lose my virginity to on prom night! Then college would come, I’d go there and graduate and get a job. Sounds simple right!?

WRONG!

Hitting puberty was a big eye opener for me. It’s like once I menstruated my self-esteem plummeted. Everything about life just seemed a lot more competitive. There are all these milestones that society expects you to complete by certain ages: your first beer, your first kiss, your first fornication, your first job. All terrible and unfamiliar things! Now that I had bled and grown boobs, I was in the process of becoming a woman. I had to start making preparations to accomplish these milestones.

Seventh grade was the first year of my life I was depressed, and that terrible feeling hasn’t really depleted all that much since. In sixth grade I felt like a rock star… until the end of the year. I was a downright bully, mocking people in my class for the way they looked and acted. Some of my classmates found me funny, and I liked feeling that bold. I liked knowing that people were on the edge of their seats waiting for me to comment on a situation. It wasn’t until the end of the school year when one of the girls I heavily bullied called me out on my malicious means of garnering attention from my peers. She didn’t even insult me, she just spat out the truth. “You’re mean KRISTEN! You’re a BULLY!”

I can’t even explain how thrown off I felt by that mere observation. I never questioned why I did what I did; I liked the attention. I liked being someone people would be eager to hear from to know my latest outrageous comments on what surrounds us. Hearing this girl call me out for being a mean bully was a gut punch like no other. I couldn’t believe my ears. To me this girl wasn’t a person; she was a vessel. Someone to make fun of. Someone who was an easy target because she had a whole line of insults thrown her way since even before I saw her as easy prey.

No one ever downright called me out on my behavior. My dad did tell my mom that I was a horrible daughter, and he even asked who would want to have a daughter like me. But that was mostly because I was disrespectful towards him. Such a justified comment for a parent to make about his adolescent daughter right in front of her :)

That summer break I had tons of time to reflect upon my actions. I recognized how downright awful I had been to a lot of my classmates and vowed to make amends in the coming school year. I want to say, most of the bullying took place before I began menstruating, so you can blame my abhorrent behavior on my lack of emotional resonance and the fact that my womanly empathy and sympathy had not yet kicked in. That’s how I excuse how I acted.

So by seventh grade I was menstruating, and I grew D cup breasts overnight. I became a stand-up person - someone who didn’t throw vulnerable people under the bus for my own benefit. I became what you would call... “compassionate.”

Seventh grade was the year everything went downhill for me. Maybe it was the hormones kicking in and getting the better of me, or maybe it was me becoming more aware of what society deems as acceptable and proper. I felt like I should be cultivating a role in society, and I didn’t know what role to take. I couldn’t be loud and obnoxious anymore because my victims were starting to bite back and I realized the biting back hurt me more than I could handle.

For the rest of Junior High I struggled with my transitioning into a new person. My classmates instantly recognized how much softer and kind-hearted I became. I didn’t throw around as many insults, and if I did it was just playful banter. Me and the girl I had so savagely bullied were on decent terms, though we never really interacted with one another except for when obligatory social protocol called for it. I struggled with finding my niche again within my class. I got along with people just fine, but I suffered through a big identity crisis: I didn’t know what I could contribute without being outwardly obnoxious. I didn’t know what stereotypical personality trait defined me. Things got a bit more fucked at home for me, so that really took a toll on me mentally. I’ll get into how family influences your socialization tendencies in another post.

I’ve never wanted anything more in life other than to be liked. I know they say that not everyone’s gonna like you and that you should accept that, but I can’t! I just can’t accept it! The only way I will accept someone not liking me is if they’re completely indifferent to me, like when I have not done anything to them or in front of them to warrant them having an opinion on my character. So I keep my mouth shut. BUT THEN… I worry about what a weirdo they must think I am. If I’m too quiet then I give people the opportunity to make assumptions about me based on the impressions they have on me. They can be thinking anything, like that I watch tentacle porn, or that I collect toenail clippings or something.

I wonder if keeping my mouth shut all these years has done me more harm than good emotionally. Speaking up opens you up for attack, and I always feel like I have to be on the defensive. But when you say nothing to anyone, are you really living your life to the fullest and taking advantage of opportunities that could benefit you?

Meeting someone and getting to know them feels kind of like a step by step interrogation for me. The worst question I always get is, “What do you do?” Which I assume means “what do you do for a living?” Another one is,“Do you have a boyfriend?” It seems to me that the general public believes having a solid and steady job and being in some sort of romantic relationship completes the prerequisites for having a satisfactory life. Do these people even consider that you may be unemployed AND single? And that they’re unintentionally making you feel shitty about yourself? Just keep the convo focused on the weather for god sake.

I started this blog to vent about my feelings. I have been journaling a lot recently to blow off some steam because it's uncomfortable to complain about this stuff in real life. Only people on the internet can understand certain problems. I don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but I feel like social anxiety is an underrepresented disease in mainstream media. It’s embarrassing to tell people that you are anxious for your next family gathering because you don’t know if you should greet someone with a kiss on their cheek if they’re sitting down. Do I just bend down!? Should they stand up? Am I being too forward, or are they gonna be offended if I don’t make a move to embrace them? That's a whole ordeal for me. It's not what people call a “real problem” but this is the shit I think about while I lie in bed at night. So if shit similar to that wanders through your mind when you contemplate the world, maybe you can find some sort of catharsis through this blog. We may not have a very mainstream disease, but at least we’ve got each other to relate to. We’re people who find solace in reading about similar experiences we’ve experienced online.

Just thinking back on the fact that what jump started my anxiety issue was a small little comment made by someone whose life I made torturous. I don’t place the blame on this girl, as I just enabled her to pull the trigger on some deeper rooted issues I bore. Although it is quite the struggle I am glad that the nastier person I was eventually transformed into a more compassionate one. I never got to formally apologize to that girl. I hope I didn’t leave a big lasting impression on her. I was really shitty to her. I would reach out to her through social media and apologize, but I’ve got way too much social anxiety for that!

Well now that we’ve covered my origin story I would love to hear about all of yours. I will continue to write about various social situations or predicaments that freak me out, as well as stuff I’ve been through at home and in high school and how I’ve evolved and haven’t evolved. I don’t want this blog to be filled with negativity. Hopefully it's self-effacing in a not too depressing way. If it’s too depressing please let me know. I don’t want to spread the feeling of hopelessness with this blog. I want people to find comfort and humor, and maybe we can come up with some potential resolutions for certain scenarios and give each other tips. If there are any readers out there, thanks for reading. I hope this in some way made you smile and feel like less of an outcast. Keep trooping on! You’re not alone :)

#social #anxitey #social anxious #social anxiety #depressed #depression #sad #origin #story #generalized anxiety disorder #help #myparentsdontunderstand #mental heath support #puberty #hormones #peer pressure #mental health #overthinking

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8osbabe · 6 years ago

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okay so this will sound dumb, but like the reader is dating two-bit and she is super badass, like she fought 5 socs at once and beat them all but she has an identical twin sister who acts the same, and the gang calls them the terror twins.

a/n : okay here’s the thing. i need to stop.

these genuinely take me long because i

go into my google doc, thinking, “oh

this will be a short drabble, then i’ll

move onto the next one!” and then i

lose all self control and write a

2000+ word fic. also your idea isn’t dumb,

I was actually really inspired and writing

this just kind of flowed out of me.

____________

it’s one of those unbearably hot days in tulsa, and the windows of your bedroom are cracked open to let in a draft, though it doesn’t help much.

standing in front of your closet, trying to decide what to wear, you already know it’s going to be a god-awful day.

why? well, to begin with, summer days like these call for more breathable, or skimpier, clothing.

thing is, the hot weather seems to aggravate every dirty, skeevy greaser in this neighborhood. fights happened more often, and their advances were far more aggressive

so it didn’t help that you were stuck with wearing less clothing for the next month or so.

finally, you pull out one of your looser, linen blouses, opting for an old skirt that was a little small on you, but at least didn’t heat up much.

you’re halfway slipping it on as your sister pushes the door of your shared room open, falling onto her bed with an exhausted sigh.

“you know, i really didn’t think i could get any hotter.”

you roll your eyes, turning to face her and smoothing down your hair.

“—hey, i have that blouse, too! we should match,” she says sitting up.

“we aren’t five anymore. we don’t have to dress the same just ‘cause we’re twins.”

“well, whatever we’re wearing, dad’s making us run down to the market. ‘says he’s out of smokes, we’re out of bleach, and we need more eggs.”

your expression turns sour as you survey your looks in the mirror. “what, he’s too drunk to do it himself?”

he did that a lot lately. the simple fact that you had to buy bleach on a consistent basis to clean up the aftermath of his drunk spells, was nauseating.

you can see your sister from her reflection in the mirror, biting her lip and staring at the ground, her somber expression almost making you feel bad. yeah, she was the nice one.

“alright, let’s go, grease,” you smile at her and reach out a hand to help her off the bed as a sort of apology for snapping.

taking it, she jumps off the bed and you head outside.

the walk to get groceries wasn’t particularly long, but your house was tucked in the very deep end of the neighborhood, forcing you to walk past every other house on your way.

the actual market was conveniently close to your house, mostly because this was the one with the clerk who didn’t really care about selling smokes to minors, and would even sell you a six pack or two if he was in a good mood.

you manage to make it through unscathed, though, and you suppose it’s because it’s early, and most greasers are hungover or sleeping.

you walk out of the store with your purchases tucked into a paper bag that you’re holding across your chest with your arms.

your sister’s going on about some soc she scammed, overcharging them for grass, which was a good business to be in, considering the drug was blowing up with socs who could afford it by the minute.

your sister didn’t smoke at all, in fact, she’s pretty sickly, so she avoids almost everything that could get her sick. when you’re a greaser, you can’t afford much antibiotics, which means that sitting out the flu, sucks.

but, money doesn’t grow on trees, at least not these trees, so you did what you had to, to keep moving. it was a risk, but your sister was willing to take it. you wouldn’t stop her.

you’re laughing with her when she reminds you of the time she got beaten to a pulp by a soc when she first started selling, though it hadn’t been funny at the time.

at first, the idea of being a real pusher, made her feel guilty. instead, she raided the old spice cabinet in your kitchen, where bottles full of seasoning were gathering dust.

so she put them to use, stuffing the tiny bags and making a quick buck off of dumb socs.

then, word got around about the scam, and they hand come to find her outside the drive-in, slapping her around and demanding the real thing.

you’re so lost in your thoughts that you only become aware of your surroundings when you near two boys, greasers, leaning on the fence outside of an old-looking house.

your expression turns stone cold, but it doesn’t stop them from calling out to you as you close in on them.

“will you look at that, two-bit. one for me and one for you,” one of them snickers. he’s smoking, wearing a leather jacket, nearly the same color as his dark hair.

he looks like the hood type. the other, a blonde in a mickey mouse muscle shirt, not so much.

the hood had called him two-bit.

you’re just starting to walk past them, both of you ignoring them.

“— aw girls, don’t be mean.”

you inhale sharply, trying so hard to keep your cool.

then, the hood sticks a foot out abruptly in front of you, and he’s too quick for you to react. he sends you, and the bag of groceries, flying to the ground.

your sister stops short, and jerks the hood forward by his jacket.

“piss off, dallas.” oh, she knows him. cool.

“stop,” you call out to her, slowly moving to your feet. “lets just take the stuff home before dad freaks. we’ll see to this later.

your twin gives dallas one last menacing glare, before releasing him and grabbing the paper bag from the floor.

you grab the small bottle of bleach from where it rolled out of the bag.

“what’s that for, ‘you use it to keep the boys away?” two-bit laughs. eye roll.

“actually, it’s just my favorite summer beverage.” you offer him an excruciatingly fake smile, and take off after your sister.

you’re already far and don’t hear them when they speak again.

“those girls were weird, man.” dallas smirks and takes a drag from his cigarette.

two-bit smiles. “i don’t know. i liked the mouthy one.”

you’re crossing the street when a silver camaro nearly runs you down, screeching to a stop beside your sister.

“you. you’re the chick who sold my little brother some spice,” he snarls from out the window of his car.

“i am?” she answers smugly.

“you know, he didn’t stop coughing for an hour. ‘drank two gallons of water that day.”

“really?” she’s trying to contain her laughter, but isn’t doing a very good job of it.

this doesn’t appease the socs, who turns off his car just as fast as he, and four of his friends, jump out of the car.

now, as far as the odds go, they were pretty screwed up.

you look at the bottle of bleach you’re armed with, though, and decide this will be fun.

best case scenario, they leave ashamed and with mild chemical burns. the worst, well, at least you stain their madras permanently.

the driver, who had some score to settle with you sister, pounced her first, but sweeps his legs, sending him to the ground.

it was a good strategy. they were easier to fight when you could pin them.

one takes after your sister, trying to help out his buddy, but the other three rush you.

you unscrew that cap of the bleach and launch some of the liquid onto the exposed skin of the assailant’s chest.

he hisses, and falls back, and two of his friends take off. it was the wise thing to do.

with the remaining one down for the count while he nurses his chest, you look toward you sister, who’s digging her thumbs into the driver’s eyes.

not enough to blind him, because that was surely a lawsuit, but enough to keep him down.

another tries to pry her off of him, his back turned to you. it gives you the perfect opportunity to kick him where you know it hurts best, and punch his nose when he turns to face you.

“let’s go,” you call to your sister. you feel winded.

you walk quickly in the opposite of your original direction, opting to walk a different way home, and leaving the remaining socs to climb back into their car.

the new route takes you back to the house with the greasers, only this time they’ve moved from their spot on the fence to look towards you as you walked closer, confusion and smugness radiating off of them.

“we, uh, thought we’d help, but-,” two-bit starts.

“but we didn’t need it.” it was your turn to be smug. you loved the look of bewilderment when people saw how resourceful you could be in a fight. girls who could hold their own were hot.

“your girls want to come in for a beer?”

you hate to give in, but dallas’ offer of free beer on a hot day after you just spent all your energy fighting, was too tempting not to take.

you close in on two-bit, cupping his cheek.

“my hero,” you say sarcastically, with the faux smile to match.

then you slap him.

“don’t touch my ass.” he laughs, and you suppress a smile as you walk past them toward the house.

—

you’re sprawled out on the curtis couch, lying across two-bit as he sits up, attentively watching the mickey cartoon that was playing on tv.

you were spaced out, thinking about how you met him, how you got here, apart of this gang of sorts.

it was easy to lose interest in the mickey mouse cartoon, because you didn’t really care for it, though you would never tell keith because you knew it’d be a deal breaker.

you do like to tease him, though, by pretending not to understand it and ask a lot of questions.

“—but they’re both dogs? but only that one talks?”

“you’re looking at it wrong, babe—,”

you tune out his long speech about the history of canine domestication in the mickey mouse universe.

you watch your sister mediate an arm wrestle between soda and steve across the room, when ponyboy, the youngest curtis, walks into the house smirking.

“pony, where you been?” soda asks, still managing not to lose focus on the arm wrestling match.

“i ran into a couple of socs outside the movies, i almost had to fight ‘em, until one of them recognized me as a member of the gang with the terror twins,” he smiled. “i didn’t know it was that easy.”

you smile at him. “it’s got a ring to it, huh?”

“i’m or sure if they left me alone ‘cause they were scared,” he looks at you. “— or maybe they just didn’t want to lose their dealer,” he says, now glaring at your sister, who laughs vibrantly.

“you? terrifying?” two-bit laughs.

“what’d you mean? i am scary.”

you stare at him, daring him to prove you otherwise. he takes you up in that offer, and pins you against the couch, catching you off guard.

“who’s scared now?” he almost whispers into your ear, and you know what’s coming.

“two, stop!” you squeal, but you really don’t want him to. he’s kissing wildly at your neck, his hands roaming your sides and hitting all your sensitive spots, the tickling feels causing you to laugh loudly.

“get a room, you two,” steve growls from where he’s almost winning the arm wrestle.

you snicker. “steve, your neck is a little red. i could almost swear that it’s every shade of evie’s lipstick!” you snicker, and you can see his cheeks burn.

“i win!” soda calls, your comment having caused steve to lose focus and throw the win to soda.

you settle back into a comfortable position on the couch, watching as soda and steve break into an argument about why that wasn’t fair, thinking about yourself, your sister, and your relentless reign of terror.

#the bleach drinking part was inspired by an actual exchange i had with the grocery store clerk today !#the outsiders #two bit x reader #two bit mathews x reader #two bit mathews #dallas winston #steve randle x evie #steve randle #request

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vaguely-concerned · 6 years ago

Text

Temeraire let’s read: Crucible of Gold AHOY!

- lol I’m glad hammond is back, he is phenomenally funny. I do love me a bureaucrat character who won’t let trifling things like dignity, morality, politeness or common sense get in the way of their job

- it is a CRIME that Tharkay had to leave before he got to see Laurence all sun-bronzed and casually dressed and golden haired and relaxed, I wish to petition the universe itself on his behalf to correct this injustice

- hahaha shen li is the best; a buddhist dragon would be the greatest party pooper among her own kind

shen li, serenely: attachment to material things can only bring suffering

literally every other dragon, dripping bling from every available surface: um actually

- . . . without the clinging stink of murder and treachery which seemed to have by slow octopoid measures attached itself to his life. laurence I understand where you’re coming from on this but you have served colonial britain since you were like twelve. this has been an extremely slow process of waking up to smelling dem roses (fatherhood changes your perspective on your life situation I guess)

- awwwwww laurence finally studying some more chinese while temeraire helps him... no no this is just rain on my face yes I know I’m indoors it’s just me and lady allendale sitting here with our arms around each other crying about our boy reading poetry of his own freeish will

- oooh I really like how novik writes the way hammond talks -- it can be hard to write a character who constantly breaks up their own dialogue and interrupts themselves and continually couches their words without it being hard to read and annoying, but she really nails communicating that he’s a) completely graceless and with no dignity but also undeniably intelligent, b) definitely a Diplomat but not a total weasel, if only by a hair, c) hilarious

- pour one out for laurence’s civilian beard with me guys, gone too soon and dearly missed (and again tharkay didn’t even get to see it! this continues to be the greatest tragedy of these books let’s hope he grows it out again later when they’re all settled down.)

- . . . These were distinguished from the others mainly for their having had less time in their careers to demonstrate a lack of initiative or skill, so he could have some small hope of uncovering some previously hidden talent. OH MY GOD LAURENCE the straight up savagery

- DAD!LAURENCE!!! DAD!LAURENCE!!!!!!! (aaah it’s so interesting that when he gets a bit more stern you can definitely see sides of his father peeking out, but he deeply remains his mother’s son -- he’s acting from a place of affection, feeling of responsibility and concern for their futures, not the weird controlling shit lord allendale routinely pulls)

roland is such a teenager at this point oh my god. also laurence’s whole speech to demane about respecting her boundaries and agency... *chef kiss emoji* and ALSO demane is so sympathetic in this still because who HASN’T wanted to dangle some asshole over a cliff for being a creep to your friend/crush... they’re all good and perfect and I love them actually

- ...I’ve managed to put it out of my mind in the last few books but with the allegiance going down like that I keep remembering there were so many actual children onboard and now I feel ill

being an adult and realizing the full fuckedupedness of these things sucks haha

- 1) the description of seeing the ship sinking from underwater is hauntingly beautiful and 2) as I have said many a time before, thank god for demane

- see this is the other side of the coin of these books making you care so deeply about the characters; I know that no important characters die in this book but I am still so fucking stressed out by all of this D:D:D:

- well well well if gong su’s ludicrous competency wasn’t suspicious before it certainly is now, I guess china trains its spies well in the culinary arts haha

- I mean uh. what a way to symbolically and literally sever laurence from his former life and former self, I guess. you’d be hard pressed to do so more explosively at least

- something extremely bad happened to granby, we can tick that off the list

- I feel like the prose and writing in general is super improved in this one? it feels sharp and purposeful in a way the last few haven’t quite been

- He hoped Riley would be mourned; Riley deserved to be mourned ahfksahsdajklhsajkfhaslkjfhsakjdfhdaslkfhakj pain :(:(:( I’m so sorry laurence and I didn’t even like the guy. I can’t believe that the first thing this madman does after trying to secure their survival as best he could is writing letters -- on dragonback!!! hands stiff from cold so he can only work in five minute increments!!! -- to make sure riley’s memory isn’t blackened how can he be like this

- emily roland is so smart and capable and amazing my heart is blooming with pride

- iridescent feathered dragons... holy shit this is awesome

temeraire has a little feather envy tho and also maila casually eavesdropping so he can chat up (literally) hot babes... I know they’re prisoners of war and everything but this is all pure unadulterated gold

- oh temeraire darling no have no fear hammond has no self respect whatsoever, that will not be what stops him

- I can’t believe laurence is actually taking time to tie himself in knots over not following perfect procedure around his officers’ future career options while they’re FUCKING MAROONED with a bunch of asshole sailors fkdfhsjdh

- GET YOUR DIRTY FUCJING HANDS OFF DEMANE OR I’LL CHOP THEM OFF FOR YOU YOU SWINE

sipho is like eleven and a nerd and ready to run at all these grown men armed just with a branch PAIN

- granby’s unending exasperation at laurence not knowing all the stuff that seems self-evident to him having grown up with dragons fksjdhfskajd

- aw laurence finally having a little dad talk with roland ;____; and demane has proposed to her repeatedly and she would agree in a moment under other circumstances ;________________; and it never even occurred to me that that’s why she was so upset about him taking on his own dragon but of course that would fuck everything up if that’s what she was planning OH NO ;_________________________________________________;

laurence confirmed for boytoy & hideously embarrassed about it flasdfsdkjhfksd

“But I don’t want someone I want, if I can’t be sure of seeing him one week in the year” crack crack goes the sound of my heart breaking

I hope they find a way to solve this eventually :(

- really interesting what a clear view emily has of roland and laurence’s relationship tho, considering he’s basically her father figure -- like there’s clear affection, physical attraction and camaraderie there but it never feels particularly romantic & they both have other shit to do. (and laurence knows it too on some level, considering his main emotion when she refuses his proposal is relief lol. it really shows off this central conflict he has where like... he has a very clear idea of who he feels he should be and managed to convince himself he was for a long time, and what that man wants and needs (namely very little, emotionally) and is loyal to. aaaand then there’s the person he actually is, who’s been fighting his way to the surface since temeraire showed up in the very first book and sort of woke him up by giving him something he actually loves and values with all of himself and can’t compromise on. proper gentleman/navy!laurence feels like he has to do what society deems decent and marry roland to be a good person, actual!laurence seems to know that what they already have isn’t wrong or immoral in any way as long as they’re both happy with it. ugh I love him and I hope his last remaining character development includes realizing that who he really is is not only acceptable but actually a better man than that imagined perfect self ever could be and how many people love him for who he is already A N Y W A Y onwards)

- the incan dragons continue to be dope as hell

it’s super interesting how they’ve grown to value people -- and not just one special person, like british dragons, but whole groups of people -- over gold and jewels. like the tendency is there in dragons from other cultures; temeraire loves The Bling but would still easily prioritize laurence and his crew over it. presumably some of it is cultural and some of it must stem from the sheer trauma of losing so many people within a few centuries, which is basically living memory for a dragon (which makes it equal parts sympathetic/heartwarming and juuuuust on the edge of being too creepy and possessive haha).

- jeez this book is doing a good job at showing what a haunting fucking sight it must be to enter a land where like. 90% of the people are dead in plague and their cities stand abandoned

- fhasdklhfaskljfhs hammond going full diplomat on the dragons squabbling... he truly is something

and laurence apologizing to demane because he was out of line and he is a fellow captain now T_____T lord allendale could never

- haven’t had a lot to say for a while because I’m just so entranced with the world building and stuff haha, I find the irl history of this area super interesting as well

- ambassador iskierka........ what a time to be alive

poor poor poor granby hahahaha

- if these books were named harry potter style this one would be ‘william laurence and that time he tried to put off wearing his ceremonial robes for as long as humanly possible’

- granby being good at drawing but having atrocious handwriting is such a good little character detail, novik is just so expert at nonchalantly plopping them in

- temeraire is being haunted by a green-eyed monster the size of a continent huh lol fair play to maila tho, he’s given it his sleazy all right from the start

I can’t believe gong su invented dragon ice cream solely so temeraire could eat it out of a tub over this... the real mvp

- awwww granby <3 I’m glad there’s some actual canonical queer rep in this series as well (as for the technically not stated straight(heh) out in canon... listen my friends if you can come up with any kind of heterosexual explanation for normally extremely sensible tenzing tharkay gazing at his friend and thinking shit like ‘in the fading light he was a statue gilded by sunlight’ and ‘it was a pang not unmixed with pleasure to look on him, as ever’, you are free to try to come at me with it but I won’t believe you lol. also laurence has the most potent disaster bisexual energy of any man in modern media even if he hasn’t quite caught on to it himself)

tbh I know it’s mostly in desperation but they should come up with some new kind of medal to give granby for having this particular Talk with william laurence, one of the most awkward men to ever walk this earth... braver than any us marine etc.

- temeraire and iskierka in this scene STRONGLY evoke dirtbag teens sneaking off to make out in the backseat of a car or something god bless

- ...I guess you can’t fault the empress for siding with the dude already crashing like a natural catastrophe over his own home continent and who is eyeing the other six like a starving eagle would a pack of mice. all the europeans suck but I guess it’s sort of her best bet to ally herself with the biggest bully on the playground, especially since forces in her own court would be hard pressed to do anything about the situation. respect sister & congratulations granby lol

- hahahahahahaha leave it to hammond to be forcibly adopted by a dragon

poor churki tho she’s a grownass adult and she only has one weird coke-addled diplomat and three basically adolescent dragons to work with here

- GRANBY SETTING SOME BOUNDARIES FINALLY I’m so proud of him ;__; this book really does have a lot to say about dragon/human relations huh

- LETHABO!!!!!!!!!!! man i’m so happy she’s doing well, she fucking deserves it and she’s doing good work

- laurence has evolved to his ultimate form of give-no-fucks-do-some-good laurence and hammond was not prepared lol

“You forget yourself, Captain Laurence,” Hammond said . . .

“I forget nothing,” Laurence answered . . .

im crying b/c he literally has forgotten before but remembers himself at the end of victory of eagles b/c of tharkay and and aaaaaaaaaaaaaugh here he is refusing to do the dirty work he’s handed once more

- lily and maximus! this is not a drill it’s the good good kids back at it again. also temeraire’s phenomenally misplaced sense of superiority re: his reaction to kulingile growing bigger than any of them fkshdfksahdfkj

- berkely <3

- poor harcourt :( ah well she’ll survive it tho he wasn’t that important it’s not like she lost her dragon lol (I honestly can’t feel that bad about riley considering y’know how he was not only chill with but actively for the institution of slavery)

- YOOOOOOO GONG SU! and temeraire is so happy they’re going back to china aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah I love this (laurence’s stammering outrage at this reveal is also highly entertaining “he STAYED in my father’s HOUSE!!!!!!!”)

- man that entire last battle scene was so cool in the context of the rest of the series; the sheer effort and ingenuity that went into avoiding a bigger battle and slyly aiding the only worthy cause in the situation (the tswana and freeing the slaves) is so satisfying, especially after VoE

- holy shit I really enjoyed this one! It had a good balance of travelling/character moments and giving us time with the culture and characters of the Inca and their dragons, as well as driving the overall plot forward splendidly! I also feel like we got some more meat to the laurence POV (in hindsight it feels like it was mostly temeraire POV in tongues of serpents, which is fine but I do love our golden boy and his slow burn character development too)

on to blood of tyrants! I don’t know anything about this one except a) amnesia and b) some Very Important Lines I’ve already picked up along the way, I’m not sure I’m prepared (as a trope amnesia can be pretty hit or miss for me, so it’ll be interesting at least!)

#temeraire #meta #his majesty's dragon #yes hello I am back on my bullshit

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