#I think it’d probably be a mixture for me haha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

my-happy-little-bean · 4 years ago

Text

Do The Cooking By The Book

pairings: LAMP/CALM words: 6013 warnings: swearing, alcohol, implied panic attacks, small burn mention, general angst summary: patton bakes when he’s sad and nowadays, no amount of chewy chocolate chip cookies would be able to cover that up.

or: the five times patton bakes something for the others and the one time he can’t.

a/n- hello! welcome to part 2 of that series i mentioned before called ‘let’s indulge bean in their slightly low quality, very personal fics’ (maybe i should actually make this an actual series on ao3 lol) :’)

i have been having a bit of writer’s block between this patton/janus one shot and golden slumbers (there's just o n e more scene i need to figure out, trust me it's haunting my every move), so i decided to write a bit of a fresh warm up instead! and by warm up, i mean i started writing it in the beginning of july and it somehow spiralled into a big thing, like they always do :’)

inspired by my declining mental health and my unhealthy obsession with baking focaccia at 2 am :)

p.s – later there's a [1] that's supposed to be a footnote but the formatting just said no so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

read on ao3 ~

enjoy!

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

~ patton’s chewy chocolate chip cookies ~

ingredients:

2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

0 teaspoon club soda

2 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, softened (or melted, like my heart around my honeybees <3)

1 3/4 cups packed dark brown sugar (must be working out ;) )

1/4 cup granulated sugar sugar, honey honey (except no honey :P)

2 large eggs, room temp.

2 teaspoons vanilla extract (and not any extra-ct ;) )

2 cups Virgil-esque chocolate chips*

*semi-sweet! ^v^

––

“Holy shit, Pat.”

Patton smiled, all toothy and wide. He was still standing beside the couch Roman was lounging on, holding up the tray with his pastel blue oven mitts.

“You like it?” he beamed. Roman nodded, scrambling over the armrest to grab another.

“Umfh, yeah,” Roman replied, crumbs spilling out of his mouth. “Ovfiously.”

“...What?”

Roman quickly swallowed and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Patton laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “No worries! I think it’s a- dough -able.”

“...If you weren’t holding cookies right now, I'd say that you suck. But you're holding cookies, so..."

There was a pause that Patton quickly filled with laughter, even if it suddenly felt like he was struggling to carry the sound out of his chest and into the air.

Luckily, Logan walked into the room before Patton could say anything that was affected by the spontaneous pang in his chest. His eyes lit up upon seeing him.

“Logan!” He cheerily dashed over to the other side of the room, holding up the tray to Logan’s face. “A treat for my smart cookie?”

Logan reeled back slightly to avoid getting hit by the edge of the tray. He pushed up his glasses.

“Ah, thank you, dear. But I do believe it is too early for copious amount of sugar consumption–”

“Just try one, cookie-tita,” Roman cut him off, “you and I know that you want one.”

Logan frowned at him over Patton’s shoulder, then looked back at Patton. He gave Logan the widest smile he could muster, which made him sigh.

“While Roman’s reference was a bit of a stretch–” He eyed the cookies one more time, then looked back at Patton– ”I suppose I will agree to half a cookie.”

“Goody!” Patton said brightly. “Or should I say, gooey?”

“You shouldn’t.”

Logan picked one cookie up and took a small bite. His eyes softened, which made Patton’s heart melt.

“...Oh sweet Einstein,” he muttered, grabbing one more cookie off the tray before making a beeline to the coffee machine in the kitchen. Patton just smiled to himself, admittedly a bit proud.

Before he turned around to go see if Logan needed help, he heard shuffling coming up beside him. He looked over and smiled.

“Virge! You’re awake!” Virgil pulled one side of his headphones up as Patton presented him the tray. “Cookie?”

“Uh, sure.” He took one and nodded when he had a few bites, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thanks, Pat.”

“No problemo!” he chirped, wandering back to the living room. Virgil trailed behind him, now slipping his headphones around his neck.

“Did you bake these this morning?” Virgil asked as Patton set the tray on the coffee table in front of Roman, who readily lunged at it. Patton turned and smiled brightly at him.

“Yeah! I mean...it was technically morning, heh.”

Virgil blinked in that knowing way Patton was all too familiar with. Patton mentally cursed.

“What do you mean by technically–”

Before he could say anything else, Patton clapped his hands together.

“Well, I’m glad you all liked the cookies.” He tried not to think about how loud his own voice suddenly was. “Feel free to finish them!”

Roman frowned, mid-bite of his third cookie.

“Don’t you want any, sweetheart?"

“No no! I chip-ed in so much effort in baking them that I tired myself out, heh!” He faked a yawn. “I’ll just go to my room!”

Roman just laughed, stuffing another cookie in his mouth with a shrug. Logan wandered back from the kitchen, conjuring a book as he walked and nodding at Patton. He grabbed another cookie and sat on the couch beside Roman, leaning against his shoulder.

Virgil just looked at him as he left, eyes narrowed and steely.

They’re so perfect, Patton thought as he sunk out to go to his room, leaving the three of his boyfriends alone with a wave. Perfect just the way they are.

Without me.

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

~ ‘i got ya’ focaccia ~

ingredients:

for the garlic-infused mixture

1/2 cup extra-virgin, PG-rated olive oil

2-3 minced garlic cloves

0 garlic gloves (haha i’m hilarious)

1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme or 1 teaspoon dried

1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary or 1 teaspoon dried

1/4 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper

for the bread

1 cup warm water

2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (1 packet)

1/4 teaspoon honey honey, you are my candy girl–

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt (maybe it’s wearing some nice clothes!) (sea what i did there? i’m funny, aren’t i?)

––

Virgil heard a soft ‘ shit ’ coming from the kitchen.

Don’t panic, it’s probably all fine, he thought, slowly walking towards the entrance to the kitchen. It’s totally not some burglar, ready to steal all our spices and blow them into my eye, making me blind. It can’t be, we’re not even real so how could there be a burglar–

As he neared the dimmed light coming from the kitchen, however, a quiet sob broke through his thoughts.

A chill ran through him. The sob was muffled, squeaky, and admittedly a bit pathetic in terms of how there was an attempt to cover it up. Almost like the sound a puppy would make when someone accidentally stepped on their paw.

All too familiar.

“Patton?” he murmured, turning on another light in the kitchen.

Patton was hunched over the counter space beside the oven, next to a saucepan on a burner; which was emitting a strong garlic and herb smell.

That wasn’t what Virgil was focusing on, though; but rather the way Patton held his hand close to his chest.

Patton spun around on his heel when his name left Virgil’s tongue, his eyes wide and glazed over, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Sh– Virgil! Hi!” He laughed nervously. “What are you doing here? It’s like, 2 am!”

Virgil dug his hands in his sweater pockets. “I’m always up at 2 am. What are you doing here?”

He watched as Patton’s smile forcefully tugged at the corners of his lips.

“I’m baking focaccia! Wanna join?”

There was a slight crack in his cheeriness. Virgil took a step closer.

“What happened to your hand?”

Patton looked down at it, then held up his index finger, which was slightly red.

“Just accidentally brushed up against the pan!” he chuckled. “It was still hot. ”

“How could you brush up against the pan,” Virgil deadpanned, hopping onto the kitchen island. “Roman’s asleep.”

Patton blushed as he ran his finger under cold water.

“Grab the flour and pour a cup of it in that bowl,” he said, shaking his hand dry and going back to the stove. “I think that the yeast and honey had enough time in the water. I’m just about done with the garlic stuff.”

“Okay, honey,” Virgil hummed, already scooping the flour in the measuring cup.

Patton turned to face him over his shoulder with a smile.

“Gosh, you get funnier at 2 am, kiddo.”

Virgil shrugged. “It’s easy to cater to your humour, babe. Though no one does it as good as you do.”

Patton’s blush intensified, and it made Virgil feel a little more at ease that he could still make him flustered like that.

“So really, Pat,” Virgil asked, stirring in the flour as Patton went over with a smaller cup of the garlic-infused mixture. “Why are you up so late baking focaccia of all things?”

A pause. Patton finished pouring in his cup before turning his back away, his head low.

“No reason!” he said brightly, though Virgil suddenly felt edges of darkness to each word. “I thought it’d be nice. Plus Roman loves my focaccia. Thought I could surprise him!”

A pause. Virgil wanted to press him more, but there was something about Patton’s cracked smile that advised him against it. He knew a warning when he saw one.

“He likes anything you bake him, babe,” he said instead, adding salt and the rest of the flour before beginning to knead the dough in the bowl. “You could bake him a frog and he’d be grateful.”

“Now Virge, I think you’re mixing the twins up again,” Patton giggled. Virgil smirked, even if he felt like he shouldn’t. There was such heavy air in the kitchen; a positive emotion wouldn’t last a second.

“You sure you’re okay, Patton?”

When Patton finally faced him, it felt like the air was sucked out of him. Now that he was standing under the light, he felt like he saw all of him more clearly. There were dried tear tracks running down his cheeks. Did he always have those? And under his eyes were bags of purple, dark and stormy; clear evidence that maybe Patton had been late-night baking before.

However, that broken smile was what haunted Virgil the most.

“I’m just peachy, Virge!” he chirped, conjuring up a towel and covering the bowl of dough Virgil probably over-kneaded. Patton’s eyes seemed to drill right into his own. “ Positive.”

Virgil numbly nodded as Patton clapped his hands.

“Well! Now we wait!” He smiled again at Virgil. “Want some coffee?”

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

~ mushy gushy marshmallows ~

ingredients:

marshmallow base

2 cups of sugar

1/4 cup corn syrup

1 cup water (1/2 for for dissolving gelatin)

7 tsp / 3 packets of gelatin

1/4 tsp salt

1 1/2 tsp of vanilla extract

dusting powder

1 cup confectioner’s sugar

1/2 cup cornstarch

*note to future patton: don’t make these, actually. they suck.

––

“Fuck!”

Logan heard the curse from the kitchen, lifting his head from his book and immediately smelling for any smoke.

“Patton?”

There was no smoke. Instead, just another string of curses. Logan sighed; it was not like the moral side to swear. But reprimanding him didn’t sound like a wise idea.

Instead, he set his book down on the coffee table in front of him and wandered to the kitchen.

“Is everything oka–”

He stopped mid-sentence and looked at the sight in front of him.

Surrounding him was a sugary mess, with many bowls of gelatin and water littering the entire counter. Logan could only assume they were failed attempts at whatever was being made today.

In the middle of this mess was Patton, holding the hand mixer up in the air with tears streaming down his face.

“...Let’s put the hand mixer down, shall we?”

Logan moved forward before Patton could even respond, slowly lowering his hand that held the mixer. Patton just sobbed, dropping it on the floor in defeat. Logan tried not to panic at the suddenly broken hand mixer. Logically, they could summon a new one. It was extra energy, sure, but it was fixable.

However, he wasn’t quite sure he could fix the sight in front of him.

“Is there something wrong, starlight?” he murmured, ushering Patton toward the kitchen table. Patton just sighed.

“It’s the stupid marshmallows.” Patton threw his apron onto the floor as he sat down. “I just don’t get what I’m doing wrong. I tried everything. And they– they just suck.”

Logan blinked, almost dumbfounded. In all the years he spent together with Patton, he had never seen him so distraught. Not even his arguably-worse decisions elicited a response similar to the frustration he was currently witnessing. Patton always wore a smile and carried on. Any mistake was just a mistake; nothing more to it.

So what was different here?

“I even tried summoning a candy thermometer,” Patton continued. Logan tried his best to be present, even if his worry was slowly overtaking all of his senses. “Those things are stupid! I thought–”

“Hey,” Logan finally said, cutting Patton off by holding his hands into his. “Let’s slow down for a minute, okay?”

When Patton looked up at him, his heart broke.

Patton’s eyes were glassy with tears, some kind of foreign look not too far behind his irises. The absence of his smile was even more unsettling.

He looked completely different; as if someone took one of the loves of his life and replaced him without even leaving a trace.

Suddenly, he was filled with what he only assumed was longing.

“Patton,” he said slowly, looking down at their intertwined hands, “please don’t worry about the marshmallows. They’re just marshmallows. Clearly there is something else that is–”

He cut himself off as he heard Patton’s breath hitch. When he looked up, there was a faraway look in his eyes.

And that was when it clicked. That foreign look…

It was fear. Fear and guilt, all wrapped up in one.

The face of someone who just got caught.

Patton quickly pulled his hands away from Logan’s, stumbling onto his feet and muttering something about cleaning up later under his breath as he sunk out.

Logan blinked, taken completely aback. He quickly re-evaluated every word he said that could have led to him leaving.

“They’re just marshmallows.”

Logan winced. Shit. Perhaps Patton was still in his ‘in his feelings phase; not his ‘in need of rational solution’ phase. He should have known better and now, Patton was further away from him than he was before.

Logan then thought about the guilt that struck Patton’s face before he could confront him; the fear in his eyes when Logan dared to dig a little deeper.

Patton wasn’t far away, actually.

Patton was just gone; and Logan didn’t know where to look to find him.

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

~drunken bitter butter rumcakes~

ingrdents:

for the cupcakes:

1 cup of choped picans

1/2 cup coconut flake

yellow cake mix, lots of it probs

some vanilla puddin apparently? i dont know why

eggs i dont care how much fuck it

1/2 milk

vegetable oil (optional cuz it sounds gros)

rum

for the bitter rum glaze:

some butter and sugar

more rum

rum

for the frosting

confictione confecion confectioniser’s powdered sugar

soft buttter

vanilla extract

rest of the bottl eof rum probably

––

It only took a crash from the kitchen for Roman to realize that Logan and Virgil were right: something was wrong with Patton.

Virgil had been the first one to express his concern, and it was right on the day Patton baked them all cookies. Patton had since baked many more cookies; which for some reason, only intensified his worry. Roman didn’t think much of it at first. Virgil, bless his soul, always held a bit of his paranoia close to his chest. Plus, Patton’s cookies were the best! There wasn’t much to complain about. A few days later, Virgil mentioned something weird about Patton’s focaccia; but even that admittedly didn’t raise any concern from Roman.

It was when Logan mentioned the marshmallow incident that Roman knew something might be off.

The two had warned him that going to the kitchen late at night could possibly bring some less than ideal sights, but that only drew Roman closer; like a beautiful moth attracted to light. If Patton was truly upset, Roman had to be there! He knew that the others didn’t know much about navigating the small crises Patton would have every now and then, but Roman did! It was Patton, after all! Roman had experience — and he just had to play it by the book.

But when he finally walked into the kitchen upon hearing the source of the crash, he was greeted with something he never quite saw before.

Patton was on the ground, holding a long, glass bottle by its neck and a bowl—with all its contents—was splattered on the floor beside him.

Roman stood there, almost dumbfounded. Patton didn’t even realize he was there before he looked up and blinked a few times.

Then, Patton started to cry.

“Oh, sunshine,” Roman murmured, sitting next to him on the floor. The strong stench of alcohol filled the air beside Patton, and Roman saw a glimpse of a rum label on the bottle. It was half empty.

“M’sorry,” Patton mumbled under his breath, immediately resting his head on Roman. “Didn’t–” He hiccuped– ”Didn’t mean to make noise.”

“Shh, mi amor, it’s okay.” Roman stroked his hair slowly, going through the familiar motions of comforting his boyfriend. “I understand. Let me help you, okay?”

Another sob wracked through Patton’s body.

“I– I don’t deserve your help.” The words came out in a slur. Roman had a slight feeling that Patton didn’t use all the rum in his bottle for baking.

“Nonsense! Of course you deserve help,” Roman whispered, twirling a strand of his hair. “I’m here to help you. I always am.”

Patton leaned into the touch, though the weight of his head seemed heavier than usual; like he was unintentionally pressing himself onto Roman, limp against his shoulders.

“S’fine,” he said after a few more teary hiccups, trying to push himself onto his feet. “Gotta– gotta finish cupcakes. Tryna new recipe.”

Roman frowned. “The cupcakes can wait until tomorrow, Patton; I’m going to bring you to bed and clean up–”

“No!”

Roman jumped at the sheer volume of Patton’s voice, suddenly nervous that he’d wake the rest of them up.

I can handle this myself, he thought. I always have been able to, this isn’t different.

“No, I don’t– I don’t need your help.” Patton stumbled up to his feet, leaning his arms on the kitchen counter like it was a life raft. He buried his head in his hands. “I don’t need your help, I don’t need anyone’s help, I just need– I just need to finish this, then–”

“Darling, I don’t think–”

“No thinkin!” He pushed his index finger onto Roman’s lips. “No thinking, that’s for Logan. Tonight, we’re not thinking of anything– not thinking about anything anymore.”

Roman was taken aback.

“Patton, we can continue,” he said gently, “but only if you sit down first and let me grab you some water, okay?”

Patton lifted his head to face Roman, his eyes red from the tears.

“Why do you take care of me?” he suddenly asked, his voice a small whimper. Roman froze as he continued. “Why do– why do any of you care?”

“Patton, I–”

“I don’t do my fucking job right anyway,” Patton hissed. “I’m– I’m broken junk in Thomas’ brain! I can’t even do the right and wrong thing, I can’t– I can’t make him happy. I can’t make you guys happy– ‘n I love you guys! God, I can’t even make stupid cupcakes–”

“None of that is true, Pat,” Roman tried to protest. “You make us extremely happy, you make me– ”

“You’re a liar!” Patton cried, turning on his heel to stare at Roman, whose heart dropped. “You’re– you’re a fucking liar, Roman.”

The air suddenly felt too thick for both of them to be breathing. Patton must have noticed that because as soon as the words left his tongue, he covered his mouth with his hands with teary eyes.

“...Patton, please sit down. You’re not thinking straight.”

“M’not–”

“I know.” Roman tried to keep his voice levelled as he spoke. “Just...just sit down, okay? We’re going to talk it all through.”

Patton just stared at him blankly for what seemed like an eternity before finally speaking up.

“I’m sorry.”

And before Roman could plead for him one last time, Patton sunk out, the bottle of rum still in his hand.

Roman blinked at the spot Patton once stood in, all shaky and teary like he was facing an inky, twisted nightmare. His words echoed in his head and while Roman knew it was best not to take it all to heart, he still felt the sting of each curse.

What kind of a hero was he?

He then looked at the splattered mixture on the floor and sighed. It looked a lot like cake mix. And if there was rum in that, it probably would’ve been good. A shame, really.

His eyes then spotted a book on the kitchen counter, open to a page that had a bit of rum on it judging by the smell. Roman frowned, going over to grab it. He closed it to look at the cover.

It seemed to be Patton’s recipe book, judging by the baking-themed stickers littering the blue cover. When he opened it, he was greeted with pages of ingredients and instructions to make some of Patton’s signature baked goods. The first few pages made Roman smile; there were puns besides some of the ingredients and even cheesy references to him, Logan, and Virgil. It seemed very Patton-esque.

But as he went further through the pages, the tone seemed to shift. There was an absence of puns for one of the recipes, and Roman knew he could’ve at least hit a few. And when he got further than that, he just stopped writing measurements all together. The rum cupcake recipe, which seemed like a recent entry, was barely decipherable.

He flipped back a few pages and saw words scratched out; sentences that didn’t belong in a typical cookie recipe. And the corners of some of the pages were crisp, as if water dried on them over time.

Roman’s breath hitched as he closed the book. Something was wrong, and for the first time he didn’t know what to do.

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

~ whats good-berry muffins ~

ingredients

who

cares

theyre

just

stupid

muffins

berries, probably

––

“Roman, he did not mean what he said,” Logan said as Roman paced in front of him. “Perhaps you caught him at a bad time.”

“A bad time?” Virgil echoed incredulously, turning around on the couch to face Logan. “Dude, he was wasted. That’s not a bad time, that’s a ‘code red’ time.”

“Besides, shouldn’t you be advocating for intervention, lo -ve of my life?” Roman asked, still pacing. “You seemed pretty upset about the now-called ‘marshmallow incident’.”

Virgil gave Logan a look and Logan looked down, almost embarrassed.

“...I have since realized that my actions were not ideal, but that is to no fault of my own. Holding guilt does no good, and neither does intervening when one does not want to be...intervened upon.”

“Okay first off, even Janus lies more subtly than that.” Logan didn’t make eye contact with him, but stiffened at Virgil’s words. “And second of all, Patton needs support. We’re supposed to be there for him – not just waiting for the most dire sign. The plane is crashing, Logan; you can’t just put your seatbelt on and wait. You have to do something.”

“Actually, if an airplane is crashing and you are instructed to put your seatbelts on, it is of your best interest that you–”

“For Odin’s sake,” Roman groaned. “I love you, my nerd in shining armour; but you got to learn what a metaphor is.”

Logan fell quiet as Roman continued.

“We need to do something. This isn't a typical Patton dilemma. And I know he doesn’t want to talk about it just out of the blue so we can’t confront him. We have to figure out a way for him to trust us.”

“He loves us,” Virgil grumbled, though hints of anxiety singed the edges of his words. “Shouldn’t the trust be there already?”

“Virgil, he loves us an infinite amount,” Logan said reassuringly, finally settling back into the chair. He pushed up his glasses. “In fact, he probably loves us too much to want to worry us or cause us any emotional strain.”

“But it wouldn’t cause us– well, whatever you said!” Virgil protested. He slumped over, his elbows pressed into his thighs. He looked defeated. “I just want to help him. I can’t stand seeing him like this.”

“I know, stormcloud,” Roman murmured, sitting down beside us. “But...but we can do this. Together. We always have and now, we will.”

Logan nodded, tapping his shoulder so Virgil could rest against it.

“Roman is correct. Besides, we do not even have to confront him. Perhaps confrontation is where part of this issue stems from. The trust is there, we just have to remind him that we are willing to, given that we are his partners. We just need to make a comfortable environment for–”

Suddenly, Virgil felt a small tug in his chest; as if something was pulling him downwards. His eyes widened and his breath hitched at the sensation. He knew where it was coming from.

“Guys, it’s Patton. Something’s wrong.”

In a flash, he sunk out, Logan and Roman soon following suit. Roman pulled out his sword just in case.

When they rose, they found themselves in Patton’s room; though it was less bright than usual. The fairy lights were flickering and swaying against the walls and the frames were all askew. It looked as if it was struggling to keep itself together.

And in the middle of the room was Patton, on the floor and tugging at his hair as he cried, heaving into each sob. Surrounding him were boxes of half-summoned muffin mix, as well as some sugar slowly fading out of existence. In front of him was his recipe book, tearstained and ripped at the edges.

Virgil immediately went to Patton’s side, scooping him up into his arms. Patton made no effort to protest, his body still clenched up from all the energy he was spending summoning the ingredients into his room. In the corner of his eye, he could even see the beginnings of what would be an oven.

“Patton,” Virgil heard Logan breathe out, still standing in the same spot behind them, almost in shock. “You are spending too much energy summoning all these things, your room nor your form cannot handle it. Why don’t you just go to the kitchen?”

Patton sobbed even more, tugging at his hair and curling up into Virgil’s chest. Virgil looked up at Logan over Patton’s hunched shoulders and just shook his head, his eyes flickering between him and Patton.

Logan then made a small ‘o’ shape with his mouth, slowly approaching the two on the floor and sitting cross-legged beside him. He made an attempt to lower Patton’s hands from his hair. Eventually, it turned into him rubbing small circles in Patton’s back with the palm of his hand, softly whispering “it’s okay” under his breath as he moved closer to him and Virgil.

Roman dropped his sword onto the floor and followed suit, grabbing a fluffy blanket from Patton’s bed and going behind his three boyfriends, laying the blanket over their shoulders as if he was shielding them from the unstable room surrounding them. He hovered over their shoulders for a while before kneeling down and hugging all three of them.

And as the ingredients slowly disappeared around them, the room began to fix itself. Patton could breathe a bit slower now, yet the others curled up into him like the warm blanket they were surrounded by.

Eventually, Patton realized that he was no longer crying; yet everyone stayed.

And then, Patton fell asleep; and they stayed for that too.

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

~ Don’t Forget-ti That We Love You Funfetti Cake* ~

Ingredients:

For the cake

1 and 2/3 cup (210g) all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda (because so-da one for us!) [1]

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup (1 stick or 115 g) unsalted butter, melted

3/4 cup (150g) granulated sugar

1/4 cup (50g) packed light brown sugar

1 large egg

1/4 cup (60g) yogurt

3/4 cup (180ml) milk

1 Tablespoon (15ml) pure vanilla extract

2/3 cup (90g) sprinkles (nonpareils not recommended**)

For the buttercream

1 cup (2 sticks or 230g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature

3–4 cups (360-480g) confectioners’ sugar

1/4 cup (60ml) heavy cream

2 and 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

salt, to taste

*Virgil actually came up with this and thinks its so lame so thats why that’s the name LOL ~ Roman

[1] Roman wrote this pun but I am making the executive decision to retract this comment from the original script because it is not a necessary part of the recipe.

**can you tell that lo was the one who wrote the recipe ~ v

––

Patton tried his hardest to fight the pull coming from the kitchen.

It’s been a few days since the others found him in his room after his failed ‘bake muffins in isolation’ mission and Patton hadn’t dared to bake since. After all, if that incident wasn’t a good enough warning, the other times they found him in the kitchen were. He couldn’t let them see him like this again, what ‘this’ was.

The others thought they knew he was upset about something, but Patton didn’t know how to tell them that he didn't even know what he was feeling. He wasn’t upset, he wasn’t stressed; he was just feeling every feeling, all at once.

And he didn’t know what to do.

Baking was the only thing he could do when he felt like this. He longed to see a smile on Virgil’s face; to watch Logan actually eat and enjoy it rather than talking about how it didn’t matter that they ate; to laugh as Roman scarfed all of it down and ask for the recipe. The recipe book was actually going to be Roman’s gift for their anniversary. It made his heart ache even more knowing that it wasn’t good enough for him anymore.

When he felt everything or nothing at all, he would just bake and watch as the people he loved were filled with joy; and Patton, selfish as it is, would bask in the sunlight they radiated. If he kept baking and kept making them happy? Well, their light could never disappear.

But then, it did.

And Patton couldn’t bear to stand in the darkness of that kitchen anymore.

Still, the tugging persisted. Patton secretly hoped that him pitying himself would guilt whatever force was summoning him to the kitchen into giving up its pursuit.

Patton sighed, tugging the strings of his cat hoodie a little tighter so that the hood with wrap around his head. Maybe if he didn’t show his face, no one would see that he had been crying for an hour or so.

When he sunk out, he was met with a warmly-lit kitchen and a small cake in the middle of the dining table.

Patton frowned, walking towards it curiously. It was a very...rustic cake, if rustic still meant ‘messy’ in baking terms. The icing was a bit rough around the edges and he felt like the writing in icing was supposed to say “WE ❤ U” but the heart looked a bit like...well, Patton didn’t want to say.

Still, it was rather cute. There was a small plate beside it with a fork and a slice of the cake, dots of sprinkles baked into it. Patton smiled; it seemed to be a funfetti cake! His favourite!

Patton took a bite out of the cake without really thinking about it, his smile only growing at the sweet taste.

That was when he saw the book.

It laid neatly beside the plate, open to a page he didn’t quite remember writing. On it were various scribbles of bright red ink mixed with blue ink, along with a note written in pencil at the bottom of the page. He recognized the handwriting immediately as he picked up the book and began to tear up.

“Virgil, if he does not want to be summoned you cannot–”

Patton looked up from the book and saw Logan and Virgil suddenly at the entrance to the kitchen, stopped in their tracks with their eyes wide. They stared at each other for a brief moment before Virgil huffed, breaking the silence.

“See, Lo?” He kissed Logan's cheek and went on his tip-toes to ruffle his hair, much to Logan’s dismay. “Patton always comes down for cake.”

Patton dropped the book on the table and went over to sweep the two in a big hug, warm and tight and filled with love. Virgil fell quiet, but hugged back as Logan chuckled, patting Patton’s back.

“I sincerely hope the cake is to your standards, Patton,” he said as he pulled back. “I know that the aesthetics are not...well, they are not ideal; Roman spent so much time planning that he forgot to take into account the amount of time we’d actually have–”

“Logan?” Patton said, his voice still scratchy from being close to tears. “I love you. It’s perfect.”

Logan smiled brightly, the light from it almost blinding Patton.

“You guys didn’t have to bake for me!” Patton rubbed at his eyes with a small laugh. “I know baking a cake is no easy task, especially a funfetti cake!”

Virgil shrugged. “Logan led most of it. I kinda just made sure the kitchen didn’t explode. You know how those two can get."

Patton giggled. “Of course.”

“Roman should be on his way shortly,” Logan said, pushing up his glasses. “He is acquiring a few blankets and pillows from his room.”

Patton perked up at the thought. Roman’s blankets were made of the softest, most delicate velvet. The idea made his chest warm up.

“You guys did all of this for me?” Patton asked, his voice small.

“Of course we did, Pat.” Virgil held Patton’s hand and kissed it softly. “We love you. And we want to be here for you; even in the less-than-ideal times. You would do the same for us.”

“But we do not expect you to dwell on your emotions if you do not feel comfortable doing so,” Logan continued as he went over to the dining room to grab the cake. “If you would like, we can watch Disney movies and eat cake and provide a distraction. However, we want to reassure you that we are here to listen to whatever is troubling you, so whenever you feel comfortable, please do not hesitate to reach out.” He paused. "We do not have to find a solution right now. We can metaphorically 'sit in the feelings' for a while."

Patton smiled as Logan arrived at his and Virgil’s side. He kissed Patton’s shoulder softly before making his way to the living room, where Patton could hear Roman rambling about what movie would be the best to watch; and he heard Logan’s rebuttals come after.

And walking out of the kitchen and into the living room could only be described as a slow-moving blur. Patton watched as Roman spotted him and swept him up into a big hug, startling Virgil who was later brought into the hug as well. He watched as Logan gave them an amused smile, patting the blankets Roman arranged under a pillow fort in front of the TV, the opening to Tangled—Patton’s favourite—playing on the screen.

“I love you guys,” Patton murmured as he sat in the middle of the pillow fort, a plate with cake in front of him. Logan sat beside him with a nod, kissing his head as he summoned four forks with a smile. Roman and Virgil found their way somehow into the tangled mess of each other, cuddling against Logan and Patton until they were the closest humans, or sides, could ever get.

And no one complained when Patton paused the movie when Eugene got stabbed, crying a bit and telling them about how that scene sort of reminded him about what he felt the night before. No one left when Patton began to spiral a bit from that and sob into his cake, finally admitting to them his thoughts and how he had just been feeling everything.

And then, everyone stayed; even after that.

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yeojaa · 4 years ago

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dancing queen.

was legitimately going to write about how much @jjiminah loves me but i’m a selfish baby who doesn’t share. haha. just kidding. ... anyway, god, i love funny, cliche tropes. don’t even look at me. just read this instead. xoxo!

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. general? i think? tags. mentions of alcohol, inappropriate staring, a bit of touching, idiocy. downright clown-ass idiocy. but also, kook is cute as hell and he’s definitely drunk. wc. 1k.

It’s impossible for him to take his eyes off you. He’s probably been staring for longer than is strictly speaking necessary, seemingly hypnotized by the sway of your hips and how your hair catches in the light, reflecting the overhead lights back at him.

You’re like a kaleidoscope of colours and he can’t look away - hasn’t been able to since you’d made your Salome-like entrance an hour ago, all long limbs and glossy lips.

A small - okay, big - part of him muses over what they’d look like wrapped around his—

He shakes his head once, twice, then a third time for good measure. The thoughts are knocking around in his head far too loudly - louder even than the deep bass that shakes his bones and beats in his ears - and it’s getting hard to focus on anything but how badly he wants to be dancing with you. He wonders if you feel as good as you look, if you’d let him take the lead.

He wonders and wonders - and then he does, crossing the crowded bar floor in five long strides of his two thousand dollar designer boots.

“Hi.” The greeting gets lost somewhere along the way, but he doesn’t mind. Not when it has you blinking up at him, long lashed and so delicate he’s not sure what to do with himself.

Up close and personal, you’re more than he could have imagined, covered in a faint dusting of freckles and enveloped in a heady mixture of tonka bean and tiger lily and something incredibly warm. It reminds him of dessert; his mouth waters with the thought.

“Can I help you?” Your voice is soft - far softer than he’d anticipated. There’s not an ounce of grit to your words. They tumble off your tongue, sweet as pie and mellifluous.

It’s only because you’re so close that he can hear you.

“I’m Jungkook.” He’d offer his hand but it’s got a mind of its own, already halfway to your face when he realizes what he’s doing. He doesn’t apologize, though. Half-furled fingers linger in the space between you. “You’re insanely pretty.”

He’s watching your face closely - admiring it, really - so he sees, in full high definition, the different emotions his compliment elicits.

First, confusion, furrowed between your brows and in the subtle way your mouth pulls and rounds, poutier than it should be. Then surprise, delighted and brilliant. It spills over every inch, sweeping the uncertainty from your expression like sunshine to shadows, and your laughter is like pealing bells, chimes in the wind on a spring day. At the curl of your eyes, framed by glitter, there’s sympathy or something close to it. Mercy, maybe?

Your hand meets his with gentle pressure, guiding it down to his side. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk - and you’re still beautiful.”

He has a point.

Your sigh is indulgent, slipping out in a breath that smells like berries and vodka. You’ve all but stopped dancing, a picture perfect silhouette against the backdrop of bodies. “So, how can I help you?”

“I’d like to take you home.” He’s not always this honest. He’s got liquid courage to thank for that.

“I don’t go home with strangers,” you state, far kinder than he expects.

“Isn’t everyone a stranger until you get to know them?”

“But I don’t know you.”

“You know my name. I’ll tell you anything else you want.”

His insistence would be off-putting if he weren’t so cute, a little glazed over in the eyes and enticingly broad across the chest.

“Jungkook was it?”

“That’s right.”

“Let me give you some advice—” The heat of your palm burns through the thin shirt he’s wearing, the tips of your fingers just barely grazing the exposed skin at his collar. You admire the way he tenses beneath your touch, straining under the soft cotton. “You’re cute.” By the way he nods, almost imperceptibly, you’re sure he already knows. “But no girl wants to go home with a guy like this.”

That seems like news to him. His head cocks adorably, swaths of dark hair sweeping over his big doe eyes. It’s a deceptively soft gesture.

“Then what do girls want?” You’re sure he’s asking only for the sake of conversation.

“They want to be wooed - to feel wanted.”

“I do want you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” It feels like talking to a wall or a very drunk, very cute guy, which was practically the same thing. “You have to make going home with you better than going home and eating chicken nuggets in bed.”

The grin he offers is blinding - slightly too-big front teeth and the most endearing dimples. “You can eat chicken nuggets in my bed.”

You can’t keep the charade up. “You’re really bad at this,” you deadpan.

“But babyyy.” He’s got you all wrapped up the moment you’ve dropped the act, winding his arms tightly around your waist. He’s so warm, so buzzed, that you can feel it practically radiating off his body. Just his touch feels like intoxication by osmosis.

“You would be awful at picking up girls at the bar.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t need to,” he hums against your neck, into your hair that feels a little sticky against your bare shoulders.

“Why did we do this then?” You’re exasperated but still terribly in love with your stupid twenty-four-going-on-eighteen-year-old boyfriend.

“Listen, it was for science.”

“Science?” You echo, disbelieving.

“Yeah - I hear it spices things up in the bedroom.” He’s withdrawn just enough to level you with a lewd smirk, single hand dropping from your back to splay comfortably over the swell of your ass. He squeezes, savouring the lace that rides up and bunches in his palm. “Thought it’d be fun.”

You laugh then, full of mirth and adoration. It careens into his chest, your cheek pressed to it as your shoulders shake. “That only works if you’re actually charming.”

“Whatever.” Jungkook huffs the most adorable sound, pinching your bare thigh. “Let’s go home.”

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azems-familiar · 3 years ago

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hello! are there any songs you associate with any of the kotor characters? (totally not asking bc my brain is hungry for animatic ideas haha,,)

OH BOY DO I HAVE SONGS

first things first, i will direct you to my twelve hour Revan playlist that i use for writing vibes, it's a mixture of vocal and instrumental and it has both a bunch of Revan songs for different eras of Revan, plus revalek songs, plus some revastila songs, plus some songs that just vibe.... it's good and most of the songs i'm about to highlight, if not all of them, are on there already.

NOW. HERE WE GO.

first things first, i need to introduce you to the title song for my mandalorian wars fic, oblivion by the aviators! god, this song doesn't fit all Revans perfectly, but it fits mine so well it was like it'd been written for her specifically, i swear. listening to the song was what inspired me to write the fic to begin with (and now i have a whole series oops). i mean, come on, look at the chorus:

Let the broken heroes rise Let the victors take their prize No one wins when justice dies War has let this age begin It's where we've gone and where they've been What a state that we're in Here in oblivion

can't look at that and tell me that isn't Jedi Knight Revan and the war that broke them.

next up!! liar by the arcadian wild, my beloved. this song is currently my top all time on spotify, closely followed by the song i'm going to rec after it and then achilles come down - and the fact that anything unseated achilles for the top spot should tell you something. (and if you don't know what achilles come down is look it up that one's on my playlist too.) this is a really good one for Revan's slow fall down, the corruption arc - again, all of the songs i'm mentioning really fit my own versions of the characters best, but they're just good in general. some of the lyrics i enjoy from this one:

hnext up, we have it all by pim stones. this particular one feels very revalek to me, early in the Sith years when they still maybe had good intentions, maybe after the war but before becoming Darth. there's this softer, almost desperate tone to the way the singer sings it that just hits me hard - this is the song i'm using as the title for my Sith years interlude fic! a lyric snippet:

All my life I've been heading for hell But never had I thought I'd drag you down as well I just couldn't resist what he was trying to sell

There's glory ahead but our love will be forgotten If my heart was still mine I would go to the bottom And apologise to you until the day it went rotten

next up we have the balancer's eye by lord huron, which is the song i named my series after (have you noticed a trend yet?). it's a very Revan vibe in general, and while i'm not as much of a fan of the style, the lyrics are really excellent!

Nothing's waiting for us in the great sky Life is equal to dust in the balancer's eye Now I know that I can't lift an old curse Tell me, how does a man change the universe?

Will I ever be forgiven for the crime of my life? Will it haunt me 'til I die?

mmm let's see what next. OH! go to war by nothing more. this is just straight up a Sith years song for revalek, whether you ship them or not - they were important to each other either way! ..... i am not going to tangent into yelling about revalek. that is not what this is for. anyway, the song itself is a) a banger and b) talking about love corrupting and falling apart and it just. it hits, man

Do we censor? Do we flow? Are we drunk on the chemicals? Every feeling in my bones Tells me to lash out and tell you to fuck off You've got my heart and I've got your soul But are we better off alone? With every battle we lose a little more Remember everything that we'd die for You are everything that I'd die for

oooh NEXT we have the song i was going to use for my Jaw Scene before i decided to write a full sith years fic. saints by echos is the song, and again, we've got Sith years Revan and Malak here (yes yes i have a type), the vibes of losing faith and anger and it blends really well with how Revan basically played off being a legendary figure to the Republic to fuel their war against it!

You were standing there like an angry god Counting out my sins just to cross them off Saying that my tongue was too loud to trust And that my blood couldn't keep you

My dear, you're not so innocent You're fooling Heaven's gates So you won't have to change You're no saint, you're no savior

mmmm okay the discord has informed me that ten (10) songs is the maximum i should do in one post so. i will only do four more. chrysalis - the last breath by delain is yet another Sith Revan and Malak song and honestly you can read it as a response to the song above, if you think of saints from Malak's pov and chrysalis from Revan's, they mesh really well together.

Hey, are you still mad? About the time We almost went too far I know your regrets In my defense; By now, it's just a scar That distracts you from Your broken heart Like you wanted it to do How do you feel? I don't... How do you know? You won't... To let go of you I will try Until my last breath How do you feel? I don't... How do you know? You won't... To let go I promise I will fight

next! for a complete change of pace, i have a revastila song for you - warrior by beth crowley. it somehow manages to capture exactly the dynamic i think of in my head when i think about Bastila, the uncertainty, the forbiddeness of it, but the way Revan ultimately strengthens her and she strengthens Revan

You fascinated me Cloaked in shadows and secrecy The beauty of a broken angel

I ventured carefully Afraid of what you thought I'd be But pretty soon, I was entangled

You take me by the hand I question who I am

uhhhhhh i am desperately trying to think of songs that aren't just about Revan but instead here i am with another Mandalorian Wars Revan song, what did we know by rachel rose mitchell! this song was introduced to me by the same friend who sent me oblivion, and it really captures the fall of the Mandalorian wars incredibly well imo - the way it started with righteousness but ended in pain (compassion leading to destruction and that's a ramble i'm not going on here either), and there's this line in there that i'm not including in my snippet that's what scares me more than anything / if we could choose the past / we'd probably choose the same and it's like. yes! that's it! i'm going to once again go insane over the scene in the Korriban tomb in kotor 2!!! knowing the price.... would you choose to do it all again........ aaaaaaaa

It's been so long since we began. It seems so long ago That in the name of loyalty We started on our own. Answering the call of a house we once called home, We knew that we were right. What did we know?

We swore that we understood this wasn't a game, But somehow we found ourselves fanning the flames. Those who cautioned and abandoned us, they were the same. I saw them turn away.

the final song i'm doing is the song i used when i wrote the Betrayal scene from Malak's pov, the little things give you away by linkin park. this one just. it vibes, it vibes hard, goes really into the actual grief of betrayal, and also has a super epic instrumental solo so there's that. as usual, lyric snippet:

Don't want to reach for me, do you? I mean nothing to you The little things give you away But now there will be no mistaking The levees are breaking

All you've ever wanted Was someone to truly look up to you And six feet under water, I do

All you've ever wanted Was someone to truly look up to you And six feet underground now I Now I do

god okay now that you're completely overwhelmed and never want to talk to me again....... i should've probably put this under a readmore but eh. thanks for the ask!

#asked and answered #my revan playlist #there is literally so much music on here #i make up animatics in my head so #you sent this ask in and i sent it to the discord like #what's up i'm about to overwhelm this poor person who just started following me #please don't regret interacting with me #oh i should probably tag this as #long post

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lizzaroona · 4 years ago

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On the Subject of Magicstone

Alright, so I'll admit- Ducktales 2017 is the first thing I've gotten into related to all the classic Disney characters. I haven't seen the old shows, I haven't read any of the old comics, I don't know much about the old lore (I'm gonna start investigating these things though haha)

I do know some basic facts, though. Anyone has heard that this is the best reincarnation and least toxic Daisy yet. But something I've also heard a lot about is Magicstone (Magica x Gladstone) and how people have very mixed feelings about it. Again, I don't know all of the facts, but from what I've heard, Magica only dates Gladstone to get at Scrooge, developed mutual feelings, but eventually, they broke up anyway. (Maybe. There's probably more to it, or different storylines, but that's what I heard from one biased source about the ship lmao)

I don't want to take a specific side on the ship, but if Magicstone happens in the reboot, or if they allude to it at all, here are some things that I would be really interested in seeing:

Them actually deciding they like each other for who they are, and they start dating, no strings attached. They both are caring and non-toxic towards each other.

Magica starts dating Gladstone to use him and get back at Scrooge, buy over time, develops genuine feelings. This could be interesting for a number of reasons; it would be cool to see Magica get a redemption arc and change herself for the better because she cares about Gladstone. Obviously she would keep her same basic character traits, and no character is perfect (Gladstone, for example, can be pretty selfish and self-centered at times). Also to see her soften for someone just like Lena did in s1. Lena was using Webby, but we all know how that turned out. It'd be an interesting path to see the character go down the same path Lena did. Magica reforms herself, and Magicstone stays together.

Magica... Doesn't reform herself. And before I go on, that's ok! It's fun to see villains go through a redemption arc but it's also refreshing to see villains go through zero change regarding their ideals. And they stay as villains. Some characters work better that way, anyway! Magica so far is (was) probably one of the most threatening villains on the show (I say was because she wasn't much of a threat in season two. But she still has the potential and capabilities to become threatening again.)

So she uses Gladstone to get back at Scrooge, and she's being very toxic towards Gladstone. And, poor Gladstone, but there's a high chance that no one has ever liked him for him. He probably hasn't had many friends or genuine relationships, because when people seem like they want to get close to him, chances are it's only because of his luck. So of course Gladstone is gonna cling tightly to a relationship where she doesn't seem to care about that. And he'd be right, to an extent. She'd only care about Scrooge. And because Gladstone is insecure, he'd be willing to look past the glaring toxicity in the relationship. But throughout the season, or maybe a certain big moment, will help Gladstone realize how toxic the relationship is, and there can be a scene where he breaks up with Magica. It'd be cool to see someone stand up to Magica, and DuckTales address toxic relationships, since they've already done so much family representation already. We've already seen toxic relationships in regards to Magica and Lena, but seeing it in a romantic relationship would be slightly different, and intriguing to see how it plays out.

A moment where Gladstone breaks up with Magica could be a huge turning moment for her character here as well. It can act as an analysis for her as a person and how she's toxic. Sure, she's a villain, but when we think of villains, we think of big, loud, evil people. But toxicity is a lot quieter than that. While writing this I'm thinking of Bojack Horseman, who was never trying to be evil or mean, but ended up toxic and harmful to the people around him nonetheless. Magica has been shown to be both a villain who wants to defeat the world's richest duck, and as a toxic individual, who has emotionally scarred many people she's come into contact with. If Gladstone were to break up with her, it could put her in her place, and cause her to start rethinking her choices and actions. Maybe not a full on redemption, but... Backing off a bit.

And maybe you're thinking, why Gladstone of all people? How would he be able to leave Magica speechless? We'll, either Gladstone's more scary angry than we think, or... It's a mixture of the two theories. Sure the first theory already kinda was that, but I didn't plan ahead on writing this so 😅. Anyway, this pathway could be "Magica uses him, grows to like him, they break up anyway" plotline, like the biased source said happened in the comics. And that way it could show how painful it can be to cut off from a toxic person, which would be even more maturity (not saying that's a bad thing!). I've dealt with toxic people in my life, and a lot of people don't mention that when you do have to inevitably cut yourself off from them, it's still painful. Gladstone and Magica may love each other in this circumstance, but they've got too much baggage, and they're not a good fit for each other... At least not yet. That can always change, but they choose to go their seperate ways for now, and this can spark Magica's road to a possible redemption.

Or, probably the most possible option: it doesn't happen. Maybe they make a reference to it, and they interact a couple times in The Phantom and The Sorceress, but that's about it. And that would be perfectly okay too! Because we honestly don't need a ship there. But I have faith in this DuckTales reboot; they've exceeded my expectations time and time again, and they have the capabilities to tell mature stories. And this could be another one, exploring toxic romantic relationships. Or, maybe so, they could do the opposite, and make a healthy version of Magicstone. After all, this show does have the healthiest version of Dondaisy ever seen yet!

I'm not sure what to expect from the upcoming episodes, and part of me doubts they'll have time for a Magicstone storyline amongst all the Fowl plotlines. And I personally don't need one! But it's still fun to theorize and wonder what might happen between them if Ducktales does go this route.

#ducktales #duck tales #ducktales 2017 #duck tales 2017 #dt17 #dt 2017 #dt2017 #ducktales lena #lena sabrewing #magicstone #ducktales comic #ducktales magica #magica de spell #ducktales gladstone #gladstone gander #ducktales scrooge #scrooge mcduck

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redlance · 4 years ago

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Hi! I just wanted to say that I’ve been reading Experimentation for years and I just keep loving it more. I can remember when certain chapters were posted and where I was when I read them. The way you managed to expand on the characters in a way that made such perfect sense is amazing. you’re an inspiration as a writer. I honestly consider it one of my favorites books at this point. Thank you for continuing to be invested in it. I was just wondering if you had a certain scene that came to you first when you decided to write it? What about a favorite part so far? No need to answer if you don’t know. I just love hearing about the process authors go through. Also, thank you for bringing me around to the absolute wonder that is Bly Manor. That’s been another fantastic journey for me as well.

*takes a very slow, very deep breath, closing eyes*

What am I supposed to say to something like this?? This is so... Nope, there isn’t a word. Wonderful, nice, lovely, heart-warming; they come close but don’t quite hit the nail on the head. So, take pride in the knowledge that you’ve left me speechless on that one and all I can say is thank you from the bottom on my heart. It’s crazy to me, to think something I’ve written has had such an impact... for you to remember when and where you were with certain chapters?? I’m honestly just lost for words. <3 <3

As for a certain scene that started the ball rolling... I think it really was just the idea of Chloe coming to Beca afterwards and being like “hey, that thing i talked about at the retreat, I actually kinda want to try that?” And Beca being so BECA going “Oh, you mean, like, with me?” Because she’s such a dumb dummy. Like, dude, pick up the hint that just slapped you across the face, for the love of god.

Other than that, I think it was a small mixture of things. Their firsts and what they would be and how they’d come about. I was really excited to just dive right in and delve deeper into the idea that these two would enter this thing not having feelings for one another and then slowly (quickly? Time means nothing) develop them in the most natural and believable way I could manage. I think that was always really at the heart of Experimentation; wanting it to be realistic. That’s always been really important to me. That things feel natural, real. I love the challenge or trying to make a reader feel like they’re... not part of the story, exactly, but intimately connected to it. Whatever the characters are feeling, I want that to echo through into the reader. If that makes sense?

Favourite part so far? Man... that’s tough, because there have been a few along the way that I’ve found myself waiting months, even years to write, and so when I finally get to them, that kinda makes them... both terrifying and special haha. If pressed, this very second, I’d probably pick the Titanium scene in the hotel room in chapter 43. That one I was super nervous about writing just because it’d been building up in my head for so long (literally years) and then once I finally got it down and I was happy with it... I got this immense sense of relief. It made me feel truly happy to have finally written it.

Anyway, this is all very long and rambly and I’m very sorry! One last thing before I go: the fact that I brought you around to the wonder that is Bly Manor has absolutely made my DAY!!!!!!!! Gosh, I’m just... so in love with them. <3

Thank you for such a wonderful ask! And for sticking with me all these years. <3

#experimentation #bechloe #nice things #anon #ask

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wacky-hatter · 4 years ago

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What do you think Wacky's fabric/skin would feel like? Maybe a mixture of soft but firm? Like somewhere in the middle?? I imagine he'd have quite a few stitches since hey, he is wacky haha, but since he also has tea parties probably, maybe he'd also have a softer fabric? Delicate almost with the way he handles things, BUT IDK, THATS JUST ME, SKJSKJSK

Thank you for asking about my dad HSJSHSKSJS

Honestly your idea is similar to mine! Despite being wacky, bonkers even, his fabric is in the middle, like a nice handshake, if that makes sense!

Though I think it’d also be neat if different parts of his body had different textures? Like for example, his hands are more firm due to all the crazy stuff he does, like handstands and juggling, but if you were to cup his cheeks in your hands you’d find that his face is silky smooth! It really just depends on what his body goes through!

As for stitches, he’s definitely substained TONS of them throughout the years. He was a crazy kid, and he was street performer for most of his life, and he still did tricks for that paycheck! But, they’ve faded for the most part, as he’s calmed down on doing crazy shit HKSHSJSSJ

#asks #by ‘he’s calmed down’ I mean he still does all that gymnastics stuff but he’s not. like. doing it on a unicycle while juggling glass bottles

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ae0nx · 5 years ago

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FRUITS BASKET S2 EPISODE 6 RECAP!

Cute summer stuff! Yayyy!

- At the mention of ‘they’ coming, I really had myself all geared up for Akito (goddammit)

Shigure, you literally do nothing but scheme and plot - shaddap

Wow. Hiro and Kisa can really be a mini version of Kyoru at times. I’m pretty sure if Kyo and Tohru confessed to each other right now without their own personal development, it’d look something like this.

- I gotta admit as much as I hate Shigure, his approach to freelance work is one that I am constantly dealing with as a bad habit. (patreon.com/graceofaeons 👀)

That damn hat. I just want these kids to fess up alreadyyyyyy

- I could watch 10 hours of just Kyo and Momiji. They’re so fun 😊

YAAAAAAS. THE QUEEN IS HERE. DRAMATIC FLOWING HAIR AND EVERYTHING. (let’s just ignore what she’s here for)

shit.

i HATE IT/ I HATE IT. I hate it.

I hate that the situation led Rin to make this kind of attempt. I hate Shigure’s smugness. I hate that this scene exists.

It’s just... gross. I don’t wike it. lol

(and that’s probably the rudest thing I’ve said about this anime)

<3!!!!

I mean... isn’t this just the perfect example/light metaphor for Kyo seeing through Tohru all the time! (I wanna call it her ‘facade’ but I feel like it’s too harsh of a word seeing as it’s something Tohru does that she isn’t aware of... but ‘delusion’ feels even harsher)

I LOVE THEM! I ONLY WANT NOTHING BUT THE BEST...

FOR YOUUUUUU....

TWOOOOOOOO 🎶

...I’m just glad to have seen this scene animated, I’m sorry haha

Do you think Akito sees themselves as a villain in this story? Are they aware of how much their actions are ruining other’s lives? A lot of writers say it’s more interesting when the villain see themselves as the hero in the story, whereas I’d argue that it’s a little more interesting when the villain accepts their fate as the villain... To know you’re doing wrong and yet still do it seems so twisted yet interesting to me (which is why I keep trying to convince myself that I hate Shigure) but in consideration of Akito... well I’ll get to it later on...

- ‘Shut up, puny rabbit’ 😂

All these masks and facades! I feel like there’s an interesting point to link to the masks characters wear in this anime and how most of them tend to be part of the zodiac who also have animal forms and transform into them when they are at their weakest or most vulnerable. But it’d turn into a whole essay, so... maybe another time.

- I’ll never get over the fact that this silly kitty is swimming in his JEANS... *sigh* BOY... IF YOU DON’T-

An appreciation of a happy moment... 🥶...

Aww, kitten! He really went through it this episode with the water. Whenever I think of Kyo that ‘I want to see my little boy’ vine pops in my head.

But, that’s what you get for wearing JEANS IN THE OCEAN.

... but I get why Hiro would ask such a question. It felt like a mixture of Hiro being genuinely interested to know why, Hiro being a kid and being a bit emotionally unintelligent and Hiro being super jealous of how much time Kisa wanted to spent with Tohru. But it’s also a genuine question! Underneath all the shade. Did Hiro not know that Tohru’s mother and/or father is dead or is he really that mean? Lol

However, I am really proud of Kisa sticking up for her big sis and really telling off Hiro for his behaviour! She’s such a good egg. :)

I hate how relatable this anxiety attack is.

Kyo’s such a good boi in this episode! He really deserves it every week, but he’s Best Boi of the Week. Also, why isn’t Kyo Hiro’s mentor?! I feel like that combination would be good for both of them. Well... maybe back in season 1 where Kyo didn’t even know how to talk to a girl.

Going back to my Akito conversation... At first, I thought Akito fully accepted their role as villain of the story. And now, I’m not so sure... They just seem... jealous and bitter. Maybe, Akito is just one of those people who don’t like to see anyone else having fun if they’re not. But, I also think they are fully aware of their actions being cruel... So... it’s interesting.

Also, I get that Akito is constantly sick and under the pressure of being the head of the family/clan/estate and I sympathise with what they went through but... I’m still finding it hard to forgive them up to this day. Maybe when this anime gets there I’ll change my mind, who knows?!...

So gentle!

Hat boi! 🙆🏾‍♀️

I almost hate that Yuki’s so relaxed rn cos ohhhh boy... a storm’s a-coming...

This was a fun one as per usual. This whole beach arc is full of really interesting stuff and interactions so this episode felt more so of a set up for stuff than anything else really. After this whole show is done, one of my goals is to understand Akito more of a character and I’m hoping the anime opens my mind to do so!

See you next week!

#fruits basket #furuba #fruits basket 2020

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pokemagines · 5 years ago

Note

Edelgard's reaction to Hubert/Byleth is probably a mixture of "I knew it!" and "wait, what?!"

i imagine it’d be something like this:

byleth: ya me n hubert have been dating for months now did y’all seriously not notice

dorothea: no we knew :) i think?

linhardt: haha reaaaal funny joke professor :))):)::) you’re gonna say sike right

caspar, in his head: OH MY GOD DOES HUBERT FUCK??? CAN HUBERT HAVE SEX??? DID THE PROFESSOR DO IT WITH HUBERT??? OH GOD OH NO

#KDJSLKF oh my i just realized there is literally 268 asks in the inbox im cryfign #mod touko speaks #fe16 #hubert #not an imagine #Anonymous

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queenlua · 5 years ago

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[ tries not to rattle off every PoR character for le meme ] uhhh soren, zihark? :D and/or plus one of the Ashen Wolves you were vibing with the most.

omg haha this is so long! answers and fun times under the cut~

ZIHARK

how i feel about this character: i mean, he was the main character in the first damn fanfic i ever wrote, if that tells you anything :P he is great. he is so great. i’m always so impressed when FE manages to render characters with nuance/balance, in such a small space, and that’s probably the main thing that comes to mind with him—there’s so much subtlety in the short interactions we see with him, so much depth. i love chewing on it.

all the people i ship romantically with this character: zihark/[unnamed dead laguz girlfriend], heh. uh. i guess i did write that shinon/zihark crackfic once, didn’t i. but honestly it’s really hard for me to see him in any pairing outside the dead girlfriend; if it existed it’d be of the sad and/or fucked up variety. hm. though if you killed off Haar you could maybe get some mileage out of Jill/Zihark, hmmmm…

my non-romantic OTP for this character: he is so! sweet! in his supports with brom & muarim!

also i’d love to see him and Soren interact more; i think they’d have some shit to say to each other, if they could get past Soren’s prickliness, but this does drift into fanon territory

my unpopular opinion about this character: i think there’s like, three people on the planet who care about zihark, heh, not sure what an unpopular opinion would be :P i do think there’s a fine line with him—i don’t think he’s like, just lying in wait ready to snap & go rampage-y at the right provocation, as he’s sometimes portrayed. i also don’t think he’s entirely the smiles-and-sweetness that he presents to most people. tricky to stay consistently in-between those, though!

one thing i wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: i do wish we’d known his girlfriend got murdered, y’know, before i wrote a fic that assumed otherwise, thanks for nothing Tellius artbook

my OTP: zihark/[unnamed dead laguz girlfriend]

my cross over ship: nah

a headcanon fact: honestly i’ve thought about this character enough i’m a little afraid i’ve lost track of where the canon ends and the headcanon begins

SOREN

how i feel about this character: i like him! uh, i hesitate to say i *love* him, because like, he was *such* a fan favorite in Telliusland for so long that i know none of my love for the character can even remotely compare. but i’m fond of him. i like prickly little dead-committed-to-brutal-realism teenyboppers.

all the people i ship romantically with this character: ike/soren is fine; certainly can’t imagine anything else

my non-romantic OTP for this character: …lol. i just went to look up his list of support conversations, to try and jog my memory, and i’d forgotten he literally only supports with Ike and Stefan. god. talk about some ludonarrative resonance; this boy is closed. off.

i really enjoy writing scenes between Shinon and Soren, and between Zihark and Soren, but that’s just because they bring out the absolute antagonistic worst in each other. kind of hard to get a warm reaction out of Soren.

though typing this out, there may be some potential for something interesting with him and Nasir, very very postgame. kid’ll figure out the dragon connection eventually. kid may reach out at some point. and i think Nasir may be just the right mixture of cunning/canny/cynical and caring/warm to maybe connect with him a little bit.

o geez am i really getting new tellius fic ideas here in the year of our lord 2020

my unpopular opinion about this character: i think i find uh, codependence, less sexy than the average person. like a lot of my favorite ships are “two badasses doing their own badass thing and then they catch a quick dinner together,” and this one is. very much the opposite of that

one thing i wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: i’m a little torn. sure, you could add more supports/interactions with other characters, but it’d really cramp the whole thing the game has going with his intense devotion to ike. honestly i think what we’re given in game is pretty solid

my OTP: see above

my cross over ship: eh

a headcanon fact: eh, struggling to think of something interesting here

YURI (THREE HOUSES)

how i feel about this character: i like him! but not overwhelmingly fond of him like i might’ve been when i was younger; i rambled about him here and here. but he’s fun, just smug enough to be punchable in an endearing way :P

all the people i ship romantically with this character: i think his supports with Dorothea are great and super-cute with Hapi; i’m amused by the Balthus supports but the man’s a walking meme so it’s a little hard to take him seriously

my non-romantic OTP for this character: ashe, absolutely. man there’s gotta be A Lot there

my unpopular opinion about this character: he’s not “better Claude” or “what Claude was supposed to be” or anything like that; the two characters are super super fundamentally different

one thing i wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: the boy doesn’t get any supports with ashe?! ffs? really?

my OTP: not settled yet

my cross over ship: nah

a headcanon fact: i feel like you don’t get that buddy-buddy without catchin’ some of dat religion, son

#tellius #three houses #zihark #soren #yuri #ask meme

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dvp95 · 5 years ago

Text

quiet on widow’s peak (2)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, youtuber phil lester, dan howell is not a youtuber, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.2k (this chapter), 6.4k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

"Do you remember the Wilkins place?"

"I'm well, thanks." Martyn's voice is dry, and Phil finds himself grinning at the wall despite himself. "How are you?"

"Good," says Phil. It's mostly true, although he could do without the piles of clothes he's sorting through. He holds his phone between his shoulder and his ear as he picks up a top of Sophie's and starts a whole new pile that he's calling delicates, aka things he's absolutely going to screw up somehow. "People think the Wilkins place is haunted."

There's a beat. Presumably, Phil's brother is trying to fit the name into adolescent memories to see where it slots in. "Oh, that wreck in Rusholme? It hasn't been condemned yet?"

"Apparently it's still a hot spot for binge-drinking teenagers," Phil says.

"Well, sure. But haunted? Really?"

"That's what I said!"

Phil feels a little vindicated by the skepticism in Martyn's voice, to be honest. His friends hadn't taken his weird feeling seriously at all.

"I mean, it's a dump," says Martyn. "More likely to be haunted by a bunch of rats than anything else. Why haven't we heard this before?"

"According to my sources," Phil says, only feeling a bit ridiculous about referring to a bunch of strangers on the internet as 'sources', "the activity only recently started. Which makes me think that someone's lying, or maybe one incident kickstarted everyone else's imaginations?"

"Both could be true. Why don't you ask Ian to go check it out?"

It's not exactly a sore spot, but something inside of Phil still twinges at the question. "He's a little busy, isn't he."

"So am I," Martyn says in that same dry, familiar tone that makes Phil feel as comforted as his mum's fretting or his dad's bad jokes do. "And yet here you are, on my phone."

"You don't have a toddler," Phil points out.

"I don't? Yet here you are..."

Phil snorts a laugh and drops all of the socks he's gathered into an empty basket. It's as good a place to start as any. "Shut up, Mar. I'm at least six."

There are, literally, enough dirty socks and pants between the four of them that Phil has a whole load of just underthings. He spares a moment to be grateful to Sophie for not including her bras, because he'd have no idea where to begin with those. He sighs and picks up the basket, fitting it against his hip with one hand so he can hold his phone with the other.

"Well, I can ask around," says Martyn. "I think my friends might be past the point of sneaking into abandoned houses to party, but maybe they've heard something from their annoying little brothers."

"Ha, ha," Phil says dryly. "Think I should contact some of the people making these claims?"

"Deffo," says Martyn. "If you can record them, it'd be best."

"Yeah, that way I can use them in the video," Phil hums, setting his basket on the washer and opening every cupboard to try to find the detergent. "I mean, if they're okay with that, obviously."

"I actually meant because your bullshit detector is dysfunctional, so me or Peej will have to tell you if someone's lying."

"Wow, rude. Whose fault is that?"

"Yours," Martyn informs him dryly. "Just because I told you Santa would pull you up through the chimney doesn't mean you had to believe me."

Phil rolls his eyes, but he's grinning. Maybe it's just a big brother thing, or maybe it's their personalities, but Martyn isn't wrong - Phil has a hard time telling when someone is lying to him. Martyn was always good at lying with a straight face and seeing right through Phil's outlandish stories.

"I still blame you," says Phil.

"Alright," says Martyn. "When are you coming to visit?"

"Probably not ‘til after this one," Phil says slowly, glancing at the kitten calendar on the fridge. They'd let one of their milder housemates pick this year's after everyone got tired of looking at Chris' previous choice of nude knitted puppets.

"Yeah? You gonna head up north for this one?"

In the very last cupboard he checks, Phil finds the detergent. He wants to be annoyed about it, but the truth is that Holly's habit of switching around the kitchen when she's anxious has saved many a pack of biscuits from expiring behind some flour. Phil has never once been useful to anybody when he's having a meltdown, so.

Phil absentmindedly loads the washer while he considers Martyn's question. Maybe it would be best to check the place out for himself, see if anything's really going on. He likes being on-site best, trusts his own gut more than he trusts strangers' eyes.

The problem, of course, is that Phil's childhood home is up for sale, he has no money for a hotel, and Ian's gone and got himself a child. The last thing Phil wants to do is impose or, like, get roped into babysitting. A trip to Manchester might be out of the question for him right now.

"Maybe," Phil says, noncommittal.

Martyn sees through him in an instant, like always. "Want me to ask Mum if they've got any viewings next weekend? I'm sure you know not to trash the place."

"Have I ever once trashed the place? Don't answer that," Phil adds, remembering the shaving cream incident.

A huff comes down the line, and Phil feels the same pride at making his brother laugh as he had when he was seven and making weird noises out the car window. Yeah, he definitely needs to go to London soon, the Isle afterwards - he hasn't seen his family in way too long.

"I'll let you know what's buzzing, if anything," says Martyn. "And I'll call Mum for you and all. I know you get weird about asking them for favours."

"I get weird about asking anyone for favours," Phil says instead of a thank you, because if he gets weird about asking for help, then Martyn gets twice as weird about reacting to gratitude.

"Except me."

Phil smiles, watching the rainbow of socks and pants spin. "Yeah. Except you."

Laundry does end up taking Phil most of the day, but he doesn't mind much. It's the least he can do when Chris always does the first draft edit for him, PJ reminds him to take his EMF meter and his meds when he's packing for an overnight, and Sophie sends him pages upon pages of research while she's at work. He's so fond of these people, and he appreciates all they do for him, but being in debt to them - and not in sole control of his projects - makes Phil feel like he's got ants crawling up his arms.

While he waits out the machine cycles, Phil starts putting feelers out into this story. He checks the sources linked to him again and shoots off a couple of direct messages and emails to see if any of the people posting about the Wilkins place are eager to chat one on one.

He's got his laptop set up at the kitchen table and he's on his third coffee of the day when it occurs to him that he's not out of the woods of owing favours just yet. He clicks back into the Tumblr submission that started this spiral.

He decides that he needs to thank this person, at the very least, and maybe offer to buy them a coffee or something when he's in town. They did so much of Phil's grunt work that it feels weird not to pay them back somehow.

"Well, I can't exactly do your laundry," Phil murmurs to the screen. He hopes none of his other housemates are milling around to hear him.

Another click, and he's on the blog. It's minimalist and monochrome in a way that makes things easy to read, but not very interesting to look at. Phil's eyes start to glaze over as he scrolls through, because it's entertaining enough but - well. It's a typical Tumblr blog. That familiar mixture of memes and rants about social issues and some gifs from shows that Phil doesn't have time to watch. There are a lot of familiar walls of text tagged as personal posts, but Phil still can't parse them without really trying.

They do reblog Phil's video posts, though. That makes him grin.

He scrolls back up to the top of the page to shoot them a message and immediately gets distracted by the bio.

winnie. 21. any pronouns.

For someone who sent Phil a wall of text that could be mistaken for copypasta at first glance, it's surprisingly succinct. Phil takes another swig of his coffee and tries not to get caught up on the last part of it.

Any pronouns? What does that mean, any pronouns? What if Phil uses the wrong ones? He isn't exactly a queer theory student, and as much as he supports everybody under his little rainbow umbrella, he's got to admit that a lot of things still go over his head.

He dithers for so long that his laptop screen goes black, and he makes a face at himself in its reflection. Surely he's overthinking this.

Hi!, Phil types, and then accidentally hits enter. He was just trying not to send the fan a paragraph back, but, fine. Oops. So I'm looking into the things you sent me on the Wilkins place and I'm really impressed by the amount of time you put into this? Like it makes MY job a lot easier haha. Is he a triple-texter? He's a triple-texter. The first one didn't count anyway. So thanks!!!!! I'll def give you credit in the video, but is there anything else I can do to pay you back?

Not literally, he wants to add right after he's sent it. Oh, well. He can't just keep spamming this poor person's chat. He hopes it's obvious that he'd offer monetary compensation if he had it.

Phil leaves the Tumblr tab open and works on editing for a little while. It's almost frustrating how bad this video is, how little effort and energy Phil has started putting into these, and he doesn't know how to fix it short of rethinking his entire career.

He could easily keep churning these out for as long as people watch them, but. He's not having fun anymore.

The Phil on his laptop screen is asking questions, wandering around a cemetery just to see if anything will happen, and Phil can't help comparing it to things he did last year, the year before that, the year before that - it feels like his content is declining as his enthusiasm for the topic does, or maybe vice versa.

Phil zones out for so long that the dryer chime goes off from the hallway, echoing through the old, creaky house. He'd given up on sorting the loads after the fifth shirt that could belong to any of them, so he just takes his own things out and folds his housemates' clothes into one basket.

They can figure it out, he's sure. There's only two bedrooms between the three of them, so there's only two closets, and Phil has gone so long without knowing who's officially sharing that it would be awkward to ask now.

Phil swaps the load over and goes back to his laptop, even though the very last thing he wants to do is continue editing and uploading this mediocre video.

The thing is, Phil doesn't need his content to be perfect. He's happy to post things that just make him laugh or have a nicely spooky vibe or whatever, he doesn't need to solve mysteries every month or two. It's just that. He can hear how little he cares about it, lately. It won't be long before people notice, if they haven't already.

Phil sighs and exits the project. Maybe this video is best left unposted. He's not happy with it at all.

Maybe, if this Wilkins place video doesn't pan out, Phil can start redirecting his energy into a different type of creative output. He's got so many stories bouncing around in his mind, he just needs to figure out how he wants to tell them.

It sounds like his father's voice inside his head, telling him you can't chase ghosts forever. He wishes he still had the gumption to disagree with it.

His laptop makes a little noise, and Phil blinks back to reality. He has to click on a few different tabs to figure out where it came from, but then he realises that he's gotten a response on Tumblr.

Phil smiles despite himself and gets ready for another difficult-to-read message.

Sure enough: UHHHHHH hi hello what the fuck i didnt expect you to say anything this is so weird i am being so weird right now um like no problem? i was procrastinating an essay and this was more fun to research so you dont have to thank me or pay me back whatever that means like i was just fucking around its fine but thank you?????

Phil thinks about the four word Tumblr bio again and snorts. Maybe Winnie wanted to seem as cool and minimalist as their theme itself was.

Procrastination or not, I appreciate it!, Phil replies. Would it be ok if I use you as a reference?

?????????????? i mean yeah but what the fuck, he gets back almost immediately.

It's nice to see you know some punctuation! Sorry if it's weird to reach out like this, I just wanted to like acknowledge the work you put in. I don't have to mention you in the video if you'd prefer!

The sound of the front door creaking open and slamming shut interrupts Phil's nervous typing. He freezes for a moment, fingers still on the keyboard, but then PJ comes in the kitchen with a little salute and several bags of craft supplies, and Phil can breathe again.

It isn't that the other people who live in this house are bad people. Far from it. It's just that, of the people Phil has opted to share this large space with for nearly two years, only three of them have made any kind of effort to understand Phil. The others are nice enough, he supposes, but sometimes they come and go and new people replace them and - Phil isn't exactly good with change, is the thing.

So he relaxes when he can talk to PJ instead of making small talk with someone who thinks he's weird and too messy. "Hey! How's your day?"

"Better than yours," PJ laughs. He drops all the bags on the table and starts puttering around the kitchen. "Hungry?"

"Please. And it wasn't so bad, I got some work done."

"Yeah? Any new info on the new haunt?"

It's incredible how genuinely interested PJ always is in Phil's work. Phil grins down at his keyboard and shrugs a bit. "Some. Mostly just poking around right now, though. Mar's asking his friends too. Oh, and I thanked the person who sent it in."

"That's good," PJ says. He's putting the kettle on, because that's what PJ does when he comes home. "How'd they react?"

"Mostly confusion," Phil laughs. He glances at his screen to see if Winnie has responded - they haven't - and chews on his lip a little bit. "Hey, Peej? If someone says any pronouns are fine, what does that mean?"

"Generally," PJ hums, "it seems like it would mean any pronouns are fine."

"Oh, shut up." Phil runs a hand through his hair, always anxious about getting stuff like this wrong.

"I'm not joking," PJ says, although his tone is still light.

"Oh. So it just... doesn't matter?"

"Not to some people, I guess." PJ leans against the counter as he waits for the water to boil. At least he's smiling, although Phil can't help but notice that it's a little patronizing. "You do know that I'm not a gender guru, right? I'm barely a gender novice. I failed gender out the gate, buddy."

Phil knows his cheeks are pinking up a bit, but he rolls his eyes. "Shut up," he repeats. "You still know way more than me."

The shrug he gets in response makes Phil huff a laugh. This isn't something they talk about, but Phil has been present for enough of Chris and PJ's conversations that he'd gotten the idea.

He wonders if PJ cares that he's bringing it up. Is he making PJ uncomfortable? They don't talk about this.

"Stop spiralling," PJ says easily. His smile is warmer, now. "I don't hate you, nobody hates you, and the fan who doesn't care about pronouns certainly doesn't hate you. If you're that worried about upsetting them, though, you can always ask."

Maybe he's known PJ too long. He's grateful for it, still, so relieved that he doesn't have to voice the swirling anxiety of doing something wrong when he only has the best intentions.

"I guess I could do that," Phil mutters, embarrassed by how easily he's been read.

Winnie's responded by the time Phil looks back at the chat window, a lmao yeah ofc thats fine i just cant believe you want to, im not trying to b weird ive just been a fan for a really long time?? (used a comma for you too) (and brackets) (youre welcome) that makes Phil smile.

Awesome! And are the name Winnie & they/them pronouns fine to talk about you with, or do you prefer something else for this?

no yeah thats good idc how you refer to me, is Winnie's immediate response. It's stupid how much of a load feels like it's been lifted off of Phil's shoulders at that easy reassurance.

"You were right," Phil informs PJ.

PJ nods, solemn, as he stirs his noodles. "I often am."

"You're annoying, also," says Phil. "Hey. D'you wanna come up north with me?"

"Phil," says PJ dramatically, holding the wooden spoon up to his heart. "Are you asking me to run away with you?"

"No, absolutely not, stop making that joke." There's no way in hell Phil is going to keep putting up with this from both of them, and PJ is more likely to listen to him than Chris is.

PJ laughs. "Yeah, yeah. You going to see the haunt?"

"If my parents are okay with us hanging out for the weekend, yeah."

"Oh, okay," says PJ. "We're just waiting on confirmation that Kath and Nigel want to spend time with you? Might as well pack now."

"Your stuff's folded," Phil says helpfully. PJ throws a noodle in his general direction. It flops onto the floor between them, a sad, wet spiral of a thing, and Phil touches his nose at the same time PJ does.

"Well, one of us has to pick it up," PJ says in his Reasonable Adult voice, as if he hadn't thrown it in the first place.

Phil looks at his laptop, valiantly pretending not to see the floor noodle, and blinks.

and i mean i havent seen any of this shit firsthand but if you need to ask me anything about the stuff thats gone down im always free. like literally always.

#phanfic #phanfiction #dnp fic #phan #words words words #quiet on widow's peak

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toothpastecanyon · 5 years ago

Text

Noie’s Brother, Chapter 11

Fate sometimes rhymed, but Alcor felt like this one was a little on the nose. A newborn Mizar fading away in the hospital and a loving father pleading to him from behind a circle of candles.

Fate sometimes rhymed, but Naomi Argenta just wants this stupid vampire to stop harassing her brother. It’s making him go… weird.

A huge thanks to @feferipeixes for helping to beta read this chapter!! Also I made a few minor references to President Chancellor - if you’re curious, that comes from their awesome fic Lucy Ann and the Lunch Bunch! You definitely don’t need to read it to understand this chapter, but I think it’s a really cool piece of writing and I’d recommend it to everyone!

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

________________________________________________________________

It was another long day for Noie. Another long, weird day spent sneaking glances at Dipper and jumping at the sound of school bells. Another day spent keeping conversations short and strategic, vague and unhelpful; keeping certain topics close to her chest, like cards in this weird game she was playing with her brother.

Playing, not talking.

“Oh, wow, Dipper, you’re right, that doesn’t make it sound like vampires can affect your dreams that much… but who knows, maybe it’s a super powerful one! I got some more books for you on that!”

Acting, not reacting.

“Your shoulder hurts? Oh no, bro! It’s probably from all these nerdy books you’ve been hunched over all day today - c’mon, sit back for a second.”

Showing, but never, never telling.

“Nervous? Haha, what’ve I gotta be nervous about, bro?” Her eyes flitted towards the clock in front of the classroom. “We’re going home soon! Going back to the house, yeah…”

Dipper opened his mouth to reply, but then he hesitated, closed it, and turned back to his notes without protest. The look on his face… it put a strain on her smile.

She didn’t remember when he’d stopped arguing with her.

“And I believe that is all I have for today!” The teacher’s voice made Noie glance up at him; she watched his brow furrow at the rustle of people reaching for their bags. “Hey, hey! Did I say you could pack up? Everyone can stay in their seats and talk - quietly! - with your neighbors until the bell rings. Let’s have a little patience, alright? Thank you.”

With that, he strode over to his desk and sat himself down behind a computer, leaving the room to fill with chatter. Noie looked down the many rows of students in seats, textbooks on tables, and the top of her teacher’s face bobbing up and down above his monitor, cut off just above his eyes.

No one was looking her way, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that had kept her on edge all day today.

The feeling that she was being watched.

Noie shivered at that. She opened her mouth, hesitated, pressed her pencil against the desk until the lead broke, then swept the mess away and turned to Dipper.

“Going to the store today.” Her words came out too quiet; she cleared her throat. “Dipper?”

He didn’t look up from his notes. “Yeah?”

“We’re going to the store today, okay?”

“Okay…” Dipper said, but confusion quickly spread across his face. Now, he looked up at her. “Wait, what? The store?”

“Yeah!”

“Why? I thought we were good on food and stuff this week.”

“We’re low on ibuprofen.”

“I mean, not that low. No need to make, like, an emergency shopping trip-”

“It’s not an emergency!” Noie cut in. When he frowned at her, she grinned and gave him a nudge. “C’mon, bro! It’ll be good! Why’re you giving me that face?”

Dipper took a moment to respond. He looked down, covered his face with his hands, and kneaded his forehead. He let out a groan, then: “Ugh… sorry, Noie.”

“Aww, don’t be sorry, bro! We’ll get you the extra strength tablets, alright?”

“No, it’s just… can we do this some other day? Please?” He sat back, still rubbing his face. “I’m not really feeling a shopping trip right now - my head hurts, and my shoulder still feels weird, and the whole… whole deal with the vampire… I kind of just wanted to go home.”

“Aww, Dipper…”

“You can go if you want, I’m not saying that. Just let me-”

“No, you can’t go home on your own!” She thought of Lucy Ann in the backyard and shook her head. “Look, it’ll just be-”

“Noie, please? I, really really don’t want to.”

“But-but-” Noie stammered. “But you promised!”

At that, Dipper hesitated. He lifted up his head and raised an eyebrow at her. “I promised?”

That look he was giving made her cringe. She racked her mind for some kind of answer. “Um, yeah! Back at the- back on the bus! This morning! Before, uh, you went to sleep!”

“I promised… to go on a shopping trip?”

“You don’t remember?” Noie could see a little uncertainty creep into his frown. “We were sitting there, going to school, and you were like- um, I was like… actually, you were like ‘Let’s go to the store!’ and I was like ‘yeah!’”

“But why would I-”

“Because…!” Her eyes landed on his textbook. “Because vampires! I mean vampire stuff! We were going to buy vampire stuff, remember? For your dream things!”

He blinked. “Oh… we were gonna buy, like, garlic or something?”

“Yeah! Haha, you could put some garlic under your pillow - that’d stop anybody from getting too close to you!”

“Heh, yeah… I guess that does make sense. Not the garlic under the pillow thing, but yeah, we should stock up on that stuff.” Dipper opened the book. “Thanks for, uh, reminding me.”

Noie didn’t say anything to that. She just sat there, and smiled at him, and twisted her pencil ‘til it snapped in two.

The bell rang. Dipper looked up.

“Oh, nice.” He closed his book. “So, uh, are we going to the convenience store, or the store store… oh wait, I’m dumb, they don’t sell garlic in convenience stores. Heh, you ever just immediately answer your own question like that, Noie? Noie?”

His words washed over her. She stared through his face, and for a moment even the churning pit in her stomach seemed so very far away…

Then he touched her and she jumped.

“Hey!” She started to knock his hand away, but gave it a quick pat instead. “I mean, hey. Oh, cool, did the bell ring? Alriiight, school’s out!”

“Noie, are you-”

“Fine! Fine! Everything is fine!” Noie shoved her book into her bag. “Everything is completely fine and let me just zip this up here, aaand done! Alright, bus! Bus bus bus!”

She jumped up and flashed him her brightest smile. He returned a frown, his face a mixture of concern and confusion and frustration that put a lump in her throat. She swallowed.

“What?” Her voice came off angry; she barked a laugh to try and soften it. “Hah, what’s up with you? Why the long face? I said I’m fine.”

Dipper looked down. He didn’t say a word.

“I am fine, okay? Dipper?” Noie’s smile stretched paper thin. “Cool, good talk. Well, we’ve gotta catch our bus now, okay? Come on.”

She stepped away, and he followed just behind her. The hallways were already quite empty, and the odd group of chattering students didn’t do much to distract from the looming silence between them.

Down the stairs they walked. Out the building. They rounded a corner, and Noie found herself staring down the main gates, and the glowing figure standing guard beside them.

At that, she caught her breath. She slowed down to walk with Dipper, and they walked closer, closer.

She shot him glances. Stared at his soft brown eyes. Linked hands with him, and tried for a smile when that made him raise an eyebrow at her.

“Hey, Dipper.” She squeezed his hand. “I love you.”

“I… love you too? Why are you saying it like that?”

Noie opened her mouth to respond, but the words shriveled on her tongue when she saw his eyes flicker black on gold.

At first it was just a flash; it was hard to tell if it’d been a trick of the light, and Dipper looked concerned at the sudden shock on her face. He squeezed her hand, and opened his mouth, but they walked closer and his eyes kept flickering.

Kept flickering, and emotion drained from his face. Noie looked away, but she could feel his gentle squeeze get tighter and tighter and tighter until it felt like her hand was going to fold down the middle - ow.

She sucked in a breath, kept her head down and kept going.

Kept walking.

They were nearly there.

Nearly through.

Dipper would be back soon, she told herself.

Dipper would be back soon.

Dipper would be back soon-

“Hello, child. Please wait.”

Those words came through a chorus of voices - the angel. Noie frowned at its glowing boots, and reluctantly came to a stop.

“Um, hey?” She cringed as Dipper’s grip tightened even more. “Do you need something? Not that it’s, uh, not nice to see you and all, but I can’t really stay and chat-”

“Oh, I have no favours to ask of you. Quite on the contrary, I have listened to your needs and taken it upon myself to - oh, shall I use a human colloquialism here? There are so many to choose from; your language is charming in its inefficiency, I must say.”

“Can we maybe get to the point?”

“‘To the point’ - heh, there’s one of them. Yes, let us ‘get to the point.’” The two officers cleared their throats, and then a man stepped forwards. From his rubbery gloves and dark blue apron, he looked like one of the people who worked in the cafeteria. He gave Noie a too-wide smile, and then reached into the pocket of his apron and drew out…

“Oh. Garlic?” Noie made a face. “And a hammer. And a… a stake. That is an actual stake you’ve got there. Um.”

“I have blessed these with the cleansing light of my innermost essences. They will be far more effective than any equivalent one could purchase at a human marketplace.” The man held them out to Noie with a grin. “You’re welcome, child. Or as your kind may say, ‘it’s on me.’”

“Uh…” Noie shuffled back. “Thanks, buddy, this is real… real thoughtful of you, but I think I’m gonna pass on your, um, innermost essences.”

“Pass?” All three heads cocked in unison. “You are refusing my gifts?”

“I mean, refusing’s a strong word, but y’know, my folks like getting points for gas when I use their card, and I’m pretty sure that stake thing is actually super illegal, so…”

She trailed off. The men just stared at her, faces completely blank.

“...so yeah? We’re still good? Still…” Noie heard a deep rumbling sound start up beside her; she glanced over to see Dipper baring his teeth at the angel, face contorted with rage. “Oh, he is… he is growling right now. Okay. Um, I think I’ve gotta go? So bye?”

She stepped back, and stepped back again. The angel didn’t react, so she flashed a smile, snapped a wave, and dragged Dipper out of there at the fastest walking speed she could manage.

She didn’t look back. She didn’t look at Dipper. She kept her eyes facing forwards, fixed on their bus as it pulled away from their stop and drove off into the distance.

________________________________________________________________

“Dipper? How’re we holding up, bro?”

“Ughhhhh…”

Noie made a face at her brother, who was currently crumpled on a bench outside the supermarket. She waved off some concerned-looking shoppers with a “Don’t worry, he’s okay!”, then gently pried one of his hands off his forehead and pressed a packet of frozen peas into it.

“Here,” she said, and tucked a receipt into his pocket. “And keep this too, just in case. I’m ninety nine percent sure nobody’s gonna ask for it, but hey, people are jerks sometimes, y’know? Hah!”

She laughed, but Dipper didn’t respond. He wasn’t very talkative at the moment - he hadn’t been since that encounter with the angel at the gates.

The memory sent shivers down her spine, brought back flashes of glowing golden eyes, of growling, of looking down at the ache in her hand and seeing actual claw marks in her skin… Noie shook her head clear, and rose to her feet.

“Alright, you wait here.” She hesitated before patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll be super quick, okay? Pinky promise.”

Dipper managed a nod.

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!” With a grin, she stepped away. “You’re the best, Dipper! Love you!”

Noie took a few steps backwards… then a few more, and a few more not quite able to take her eyes off him. There was a pit in her stomach when she looked at him sitting there, all alone, with his head buried in a pack of frozen peas…

Maybe this was a bad idea.

Before she could think too much on it, there was a “Hey!” and Noie had to dodge a cart she’d wandered into the way of. The man pushing it shot her a glare. “Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Her cheeks burned as he stalked past her. “Sorry…”

Then she cleared her throat, glanced one last time back at Dipper, and made her way inside before she got in anybody else’s way.

She’d be quick.

Noie grabbed a basket from the side and held it in the crook of her elbow as she linked her fingers together. One hand rubbed the claw marks on the back of the other as she made a beeline to the fresh produce - it was right by the entrance - and picked out a head of garlic and some pumpkin seeds. She spotted some bananas and remembered they were out, but a split second later she also remembered Dipper hanging on for her for outside and skipped past them to find the painkillers.

Ugh, the medicine aisle was all the way on the other side of the store. She rolled her eyes and broke out into a little jog as she made her way there; the extra strength ibuprofen was about halfway down the aisle, and she picked one out - no, two. Just in case.

Noie tossed those into her basket, and grimaced at her little collection.

Alright. That should keep Dipper from getting suspicious about this shopping trip.

Now for what she actually needed to buy.

Noie paced the aisles a little bit before she found the one she was looking for. Fridges full of frozen meals lined one side, and on the other was a man choosing between two bottles of wine; she pretended to stare at the frozen meals until he sighed, threw both of them in his cart, and shuffled off.

With a shiver, she looked both ways and headed to a very small section tucked to the very back of the aisle, labelled ‘Vampire Products’. Between that title and the bright red bloodpacks dangling from each shelf, it was obvious a human like Noie was not supposed to be opening this particular fridge.

So she did it quickly, and moved away to examine the squishy bag of gross that was now in her hands.

It was cold to the touch. The plastic felt thin and clammy - kind of like seran wrap, Noie thought, and with that analogy in mind she was careful not to squeeze it too hard. The label was plain white and noticeably devoid of branding; apart from a logo and tagline tucked into the corner (‘Sated Solutions: Keeping Our Streets Safe Since 2029’), the rest of the space was packed with warnings, each one delivered with more CAPITALISED WORDS FOR EMPHASIS than an angry internet post:

BLOOD PACK FOR VAMPIRIC CONSUMPTION ONLY: 495ml WHOLE BLOOD, COLLECTION DATE 04/25/85

CAUTION: THIS PRODUCT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR USE IN TRANSFUSIONS.

CAUTION: THIS PRODUCT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR GENERAL CONSUMPTION. CONSUMPTION OF HUMAN BLOOD MAY LEAD TO HEMOCHROMATOSIS (IRON OVERLOAD) WHICH CAN CAUSE ORGAN DAMAGE, IRREGULAR HEARTBEAT, CIRRHOSIS OF THE LIVER…

It went on, and Noie skimmed the rest before gingerly placing it in her basket and proceeding to self-checkout. No drinking the blood, got it.

She scanned the garlic and the seeds and the ibuprofen, and put them in a bag. Then, with a quick glance over her shoulder, she scanned the bloodpack and shoved it into another bag as fast as she could. She wrapped that bag up, put it in with the other stuff she’d bought, then got out her grandfather’s card and went to pay.

The bloodpack was twenty-five dollars. Noie muttered a little ‘sorry’ to the card reader as she typed in his pin.

(This was just a one time thing, she reasoned. She only needed it to last a few days… it’d last that long, right?)

(Seriously, how much could a vampire even drink?)

She doodled a little heart on the signature line, and took a deep breath to to steady her own racing pulse as she waited for the beep. Once it went through she pulled out the card, grabbed the bag, and darted for the exit.

“Dipper? Dipper!” She called his name before she could even see the bench. She rounded the corner, and- “Dipper, there you are!”

Dipper had sat up, and was giving her an odd look. “Yeah? You told me to wait-”

“I’m sorry I was gone so long!” Noie wrapped him up in a hug. “I’ve got everything you wanted though, so- oh! How’s your head feeling?”

“Not great, with you yelling in my ear like that.”

“Sorry! I mean, sorry… You okay, though?”

“Yeah… I’m feeling a little better.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’ll be fine, I just want to go home and lie down for a bit.”

With a tight smile, Noie drew back. “That’s fair, bro. We’ll go home now.” She helped him to his feet. “We’ll go straight home, and you’ll go straight to bed, okay? Okay. Ohhh-kay.”

________________________________________________________________

Noie had this evening all planned out. Dipper was going to go sleep off his headache, so she’d take that time to slip the bloodpack to Lucy Ann. She could do that in five minutes, then go pick up a few more vampire books from Grandma’s study; if she dumped some heavy ones on his lap as soon as he woke up, she could probably keep him in his room all night. There’d be no chance of him even seeing the vampire!

She opened the front door, grinning to herself. This was good! This was a good plan. Then she could wake up early, and do breakfast in bed...

“Hey, kids!”

Wait, what?

“Good day at school? Say, aren’t you back earlier than this most days?”

Noie stared at her grandfather, who was sitting in the dining room and reading an actual newspaper. She was about to ask where her grandma was when-

Oh, stars.

Oh, no...

“Everything alright?” David frowned at them. “You two look terrible.”

Dipper was already shuffling towards the bedroom. “We’re, uh, fine, Grandpa… I got a headache today.”

“Another bad one, eh?”

“Yeah. I’m going to lie down.”

“You do that, kid. You’ll feel better.” David watched him go, forehead wrinkling in concern. “Might need to take him to the doctor… hey, Naomi, what’s the, uh… the number for the lady your brother sees? D’you know where Allie kept it?”

Noie didn’t answer. She didn’t hear the question. She was too busy staring at her grandmother.

Sitting outside.

Talking.

Laughing.

Lucy Ann.

“Naomi?”

Where was Lucy Ann?

“Naomi!”

Noie blinked. Her grandfather was frowning at her, now.

“Will you listen to me, kid? I was asking you a question. I wanted to make an appointment with the neurologist for your brother; I’m getting worried about all these headaches he’s been having lately-”

“Oh, I can set that up.” She blurted out, then: “Why’s Grandma outside? Who’s she talking to?”

“Huh?” David glanced outside. “Oh, uh, she’s… She came out with me while I was tryna see what was tapping at our porch this morning, and for some reason she didn’t want to come back inside. Wanted to keep sitting out there.” He stuck his nose back into the newspaper. “Don’t ask me why. It’s hot as… it’s hot today.”

Noie watched Allie let out a laugh. She could hear the faintest bit of it come through the glass, loud and happy. “B-but who’s she talking t-”

“She’s fine.” He cut her off. “Everything’s fine, she’s just… practicing an old speech of hers or something, I don’t know. I’m just waiting for her to come in so I don’t have to keep sitting on this damn chair - my back’s screaming for the couch, I tell you.” He looked down at the bag in her hands. “Did’ja go to the store?”

“What? Oh, uh!” Noie hid the bag behind her. “I just- we got garlic.”

“Were we-”

“Yes, we were out!” Darting over to the counter, she dumped the garlic and - she’d find a home for it later - the pumpkin seeds into the fruit bowl, then squeezed past the dining table to get to the porch. “I’m going outside!”

“What? No, don’t…” David hesitated, thought on it for a second, and then sighed. “I mean, uh, I guess you can if you really want to. I don’t know why I’m saying no, I don’t see the harm.”

She gave him a hug as she passed his chair. “Thanks, Grandpa!”

“What are you- oh, hugs, alright. Yes, yes, you’re very welcome for, uh… well I’ve been thinking, and, y’know, I say no to a lot of things that maybe don’t matter so much, and-”

“Oh! You need to go away, Grandpa!”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean…” Noie tore her eyes away from the porch, and gave David an awkward smile. “Why don’t you let me keep an eye on Granny?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You want to sit out there and watch her?”

“Yeah! A-and you can go back to the couch and watch TV and not be right here?” Her smile stretched wide. “Doesn’t that sound nice? That sounds nice to me.”

“I’m not sure… you know you can’t walk off on her, right?”

“Of course! I would never do that!”

“So you’re gonna stay out there as long as she’s out there?”

“Pinky promise!”

Hmmm…” He narrowed his eyes. “Why’re we so eager to look after Allie all of a sudden?”

“Cause she’s my Granny and I love her? I don’t need a reason to wanna hang out with her!”

“That’s… I suppose that’s true, but-”

Noie forced a laugh as she plucked the newspaper out of his hands. “Besides, I have to rescue you from this. Don’t you get news on your phone?”

David tensed at that; oops, she'd hit a nerve.

“Ohh, can’t you get news on your phone?” He imitated her voice in a mocking falsetto, and she cringed. “Everyone’s like ohh, it’s so convenient, and then everyone’s wondering why journalism’s dying out - you know what happened once an old paper of mine stopped selling print?”

“Grandpa-”

“Suddenly ohh, we just don’t know if that story’s gonna get clicks, ‘cause suuure, that’s the important thing to talk about, the fucking clicks, ‘cause what else are we here to-”

“Grandpa!” Noie nudged him away with a polite smile. “That’s really cool and important and all, but…” She glanced outside. “Um…”

He rolled his eyes, and got to his feet with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, I can take a hint. Nobody wants to hear what Grandpa has to say, he should just shut up and go watch TV.”

“That’s not what I said!”

“You keep a close eye on Allie.” He pointed at her with the newspaper. “That’s what you agreed to, and maybe that’s not convenient or whatever, but it’s important, and you young people’ve gotta learn it’s not one or the other.”

“Young people? What are you even- I’m not gonna let her wander off, okay! Why do you think I’d ever do that?”

“You gotta learn, is all I’m saying.” David shuffled off, rubbing his back. “You gotta learn.”

“Alright, alright... sheesh.” Noie crossed her arms. “‘You young people’, oh, my stars. You think there was ever some old grump who said that to Grandpa back when he was a kid? Heh, I bet he was like ‘I wanna be just like you when I grow up!’”

There was no reply. She looked around, and saw Dipper wasn’t standing next to her… oh, right.

Tap, tap, tap.

Noie turned around, and saw her grandmother tapping on the glass. Allie smiled and waved at her when they made eye contact, and there was a flicker of a figure from behind a wall running down one side of the porch.

Oh, right.

She gulped, drew the blinds, and gingerly stepped outside.

The first thing she heard was, “Naomi!”

“Hi, uh, Granny. I-”

Arms came down and wrapped her in a hug. Allie squeezed her tight, tighter than she had in a long time. She tousled Noie’s hair and laughed; the sound was loud and loving, happy and carefree, and all the things Noie was going to say suddenly dried up on her tongue.

“It’s so good to see you!” Allie pulled back, and there was a shine in her smile. “Oh, wow, you’ve grown, haven’t you! Shot up like a seed, a seaweed!” She leaned forward. “You taller than Dipper yet?”

There was a lump in her throat. “I… um, I… I don’t... think so?”

“Aww, you should measure. Round your age, you’ll proberbe taller… pr-, properly? No, ‘probably’ ‘be’ taller.” She snorted to herself. “Words, Allie. What are we doing here?”

Noie just stared. It was strange, to see her grandmother like this: so animated, so responsive, so happy, so… herself.

Not because it was unfamiliar, because it wasn’t. Her hug, her laugh, her smile, and how it gave way to concern as she noticed the look on Noie’s face; this was all so, so familiar, and suddenly, she missed it so, so badly.

“Naomi? Sweetie?” Allie squeezed her shoulders. “What’s the matter?”

She just shook her head and hugged her Grandma. There were no words to explain it, and maybe Allie realised that, too; she just held Noie close, and rocked her a little, and for a moment, wrapped up warm and safe in her arms, everything really was okay.

Everything was as it should be.

Then Allie noticed someone. Noie felt her stiffen, and wiped her eyes before looking up questioningly.

She was frowning at the wall behind the porch… and the figure currently trying to flatten herself against it. The confusion slowly turned to recognition, and then:

“Is that… is that Lucy Ann? Oh, my stars!”

Wait, what?

Noie just had time to go, “Huh?” before she was almost pushed aside in a sudden dash over to the vampire. Lucy Ann stopped trying to hide; she stood up straight, and shot a glance at Noie before putting on her best smile and extending a hand.

“Uh, hi. Yeah, it’s me again.”

“Oh my stars, Lucy Ann!” Allie shook her hand vigorously, her words tumbling out of her mouth - almost nervously. “It’s- it’s an honour! I can believe I’m finely meaning you, I never fought I’d see- I… oh, where armyanners?” She gave one more firm shake, and her smile straightened into something more professional. “I’m Senator Aleksandra Argenta, from Southern Arizona. It really is a pleasure to meet you.”

With wide eyes, Noie watched Lucy Ann look from Allie’s dishevelled grey hair down to her faded blue nightgown and bare feet, then dip her head and say: “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Senator. Big fan of your work.”

“You guys know each other?!”

Allie turned to Noie, and her smile brightened even further. “Oh, Naomi! You’re here!” She dashed up to her and gave her another huge hug. “It’s so good do see you! Howave you been? How’s school? Oh wow, you’ve gotten so much taller!”

“I-” Noie pointed at Lucy Ann. “I don’t… How do you…?”

Lucy Ann chuckled. “Oh, I might’ve made a couple names for myself over the years. I’m surprised you didn’t recognise me with a grandma this cool, though I’ll cut you some slack - I didn’t recognise Argenta either.” Her grin sharpened. “Guess I didn’t see the resemblance.”

“What?”

“Naomi, you have to meet this, this!” Allie took her hand and dragged her right up to the vampire. “This is Lushiann, she was instruments in taking down the Chancellor admini-uh-instrumentation acapple centaursa go! Living histree!”

“What?”

“There was a very pro-nat President you guys elected a few hundred years back.” Lucy Ann crossed her arms. “Me and a Mizar and some friends, we, uh, ‘took care’ of her.”

“Oh…” Naomi tried for a smile. “That’s nice. Good job?”

“Yeah, I’d say saving millions of preters from getting hunted down by the government was a pret-ty good job.”

“And we’re still fighting for pretrights.” Allie grumbled. “Laws from back then, they’re still on the books and peter-epresentation is still at history lows - you know itsstimated seventy percent of pre-transcendaged citisents are-egistered devote?”

“Seventeen percent registered to vote, yeah.” Lucy Ann shook her head. “Used to require everyone to have a US birth certificate, no exceptions, and, uh, that’s rather hard for folks whose birth certificate - if they had one - predates the United States.”

“I can’t believe that’s still alaw, I have a bill going through committeen right now to strike that one out.”

“Yeah, and it passed.”

“Oh, it passed?” Allie blinked, and then smiled. “Ohh, it did, didn’t it? That’s wonderful! Still a lot of work to do, though.”

Lucy Ann nodded. “You can say that again.”

“I’ll say it as many timesi need to.” She chuckled. “Some of my colleaks could use the reminder.”

The two of them laughed, and Noie just stared. The scene was too utterly bizzare for her to process; all she could think was what the fuck was going on?

There was a hand on her shoulder. Allie shot her a grin.

“Naomi, it’s so good to see you! Oh, my stars, you’ve come at such a good time!” She motioned to Lucy Ann. “This is Lucy Ann - you’verurdove Lucy Ann, right?”

Noie nodded weakly. “She took down a bad president?”

“A bad pro-nat president.” Lucy Ann added. “Don’t you forget that bit.”

“Sorry.”

“Lucy Ann was such an inspiritasion for me getting in-tolitics.” Allie sighed. “You know, my sister got bitten when she was for a teen, and it was such a rightmare getting anything done for her… I was like, Lucy Ann showed us hundreds of years ago this was unexpectable! Why’s she still gotta deal with this? Someone’s gotta changeings!” She laughed, and squeezed Noie’s shoulder. “And I know we got quite a promisting young lady here who-onts to... to do good change things too.”

Noie stiffened when Lucy Ann looked her way. “Uh…-”

“Oh, yeah? She’s gonna be a senator too?”

“I mean, I don’t know if I-”

“She’s certainly got it in her, if she wants to.” Allie beamed down at her. “You’re a talented young lady, Naomi. Don’t short your sell short, you’re going to do amazing things. You and Dipper, I can’t wait to see what you do.”

Noie didn’t know what to say to that. Lucy Ann pursed her lips.

“Well, you’re not wrong, she’d certainly fit right in as a politician.” She cleared her throat. “Uh, Senator?”

“Yes?”

“It’s been really, really great chatting with you… seriously, you have no idea how much I appreciate the company.” She gave a barking laugh, and picked at the blood under her fingernails. “But, uh, d’you think I could, y’know, speak with your granddaughter for a sec? One on one?”

“You want to do that?” Allie raised her eyebrows. “Oh, that sounds like exciting! What do you say, Nomi?”

Noie glanced at Lucy Ann, who was giving her a very hard look beneath that smile. She made a face.

“Uh, sure, I guess?”

“Naomi,” there was gentle laughter in her grandmother’s voice. “I think you can say that a littleit more politely.”

“...Yes? Thank you?”

Lucy Ann’s smirk was hard to look at. “Oh, don’t mention it. You know I’m here all day.”

“Really? What’s the occasion?”

“Don’t worry about it, Senator. I’ll, uh, tell you later.” Lucy Ann waved her away. “Give me a second with Noie, alright?”

“Oh, you want to talk with my granddaughter? That sounds exciting, Naomi, what do you-”

“I need to walk you back to Grandpa!” Noie tugged her towards the door. “Uh, I’ll be back in a second!”

Lucy Ann raised an eyebrow. “You’d better.”

“I-I will!” She opened the door for Allie. “Come on, Granny.”

“Where are we going?”

“To Grandpa! To, uh, David!” Slowly, Noie coaxed her into the house. “Come on!”

Allie frowned, but she let herself be led down the hall and into the living room. David gave her a wave when she sat Allie down next to him; he put his arm around his wife and looked back to the TV with a little grunt of thanks.

Noie was just walking away when she heard, “Can you ask Lucy Ann when she’s free?”

She spun around to stare at her, then at David. “Wh-what?”

“I’d love to see her again.” Allie smiled. “Maybe I can invite her over to our house. For tea.”

Noie just gaped at her grandmother, at a loss for words. After a moment, David waved her away.

“I got her, Naomi.” He squeezed Allie’s shoulder. “Good to have you back, I was… Uh, you wanna watch anything in particular? I’m just clicking through channels - so much of it’s a bunch of crap. Ugh.”

She backed up, staring at her grandmother for one more moment. Then she turned around and darted back through the halls and back outside.

Lucy Ann was waiting for her, feet right up against the open door and all pretense of a smile dropped from her face. She raised her eyebrows when she caught sight of Noie.

“Oh, you actually came back. Gotta admit, I was ninety percent sure you were just saying that.” She stepped to the side to let Noie through. “I was thinking of just screaming ‘DIPPER YOU’RE ALCOR’ through the door - y’know, since you left it open and all.”

She slid the door closed. “Um, please don’t do that.”

“Oh of course, it’d be very inconvenient for you, wouldn’t it.”

“No, that’s-! Look,” Noie threw her bag on the table and fished out the bloodpack. “I got this for you, so I’m not gonna let you die, alright? Everything’s going to be okay, so if you could just wait here a little longer, I’m working on a plan-”

“Of telling Dipper he’s Alcor?”

“No, but-”

“How long’s this plan gonna take?”

“Uh, I don’t think it’ll be too long-”

“Do you take constructive criticism?” She crossed her arms. “Or is it not quite out of the brainstorming stage?”

“Uh… look, I have it under-”

“No, you look, Noie!” Lucy Ann picked up the bloodpack with balled fists. “Look at this! This is insulting! I am not your pet! I am not going to stand in this fucking yard thirty feet from the only person who can actually help while you run around making stupid little plans that won’t fucking work!” She noticed Noie pressed up against the glass, and took a very deep breath. “Okay. Look, I am sorry this is so hard for you, but Dipper is Alcor, and an angel is trying to kill me, and I am sick and tired of sitting around in your yard doing nothing - I have a life to get back to!”

“I…” Noie gulped. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be sorry, just go get Alcor!” She stared Noie down. “Well?”

“Um, i-it’s just-”

“Ohhhh my starrrrs…” Lucy Ann dropped the bloodpack and kneaded her forehead. “How are you related to Senator Argenta? Just… how?”

“She’s… she’s my grandma?” Noie cringed when Lucy Ann started banging her head against a wall. “Uh… did you… did you actually know her?”

“Didn’t know her - I just met her this morning - but I knew of her, back when she was a senator.” She rested her head against the brick. “She did good work. And she was a real interesting lady to talk to, real passionate… I’m sorry she’s, y’know…”

“Alzheimer's.”

Lucy Ann sighed. “Yeah, I figured. That sucks, it really does.”

“It’s okay.”

“...You know, not everything has to be okay all the time.”

Noie didn’t know what to say to that. She stared at Lucy Ann, and after a moment, the vampire turned to look at her.

“Are you gonna go get Alcor for me?”

She said nothing, and watched Lucy Ann’s eyes go flat. The vampire looked down again, down at the floor, and suddenly it was hard to ignore how small she was. How young she seemed, in a dirty red shawl several sizes too big for her.

“Then I don’t know why you’re still standing there.”

That made Noie cringe. “Do, uh, do you want me-”

“To go? Yeah, I think that would be best.” She scuffed her feet against the porch. “I gotta lot of thinking to do: gotta figure out how to get to Alcor on my own and that’s… not easy. But hey, don’t let me stop you from living your life. Go inside.”

Noie stepped back. She stepped back again. She opened the door, and glanced over at Lucy Ann one more time-

“Seriously? Just go already!”

Then slid it shut and walked away with her arms clasped around her chest, cradling the deep, sinking feeling in her stomach.

This was fine. Or at least, it was going to be fine.

She just had to hold it all together for a few more days.

Just a few more days…

#transcendence au #Noie's Brother #Noie #toothwrites

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flame-shadow · 6 years ago

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I should be asleep right now but oh well, here’s some ramblings since it’s on the brain.

anyone who knows me and pays attention to what I say and do can likely pick up on how much I’m not attracted to people. Growing up was annoying because visiting relatives would always hit me with, “do you have a boyfriend yet?” And once I realized that I was supposed to be crushing on boys and rating their hotness, I got paranoid that every male friend I had might be seen by others as my choice in a partner. I stopped talking about guy friends as much and started hanging out with girls more because I didn’t like having to say guy-friend-who-is-not-my-boyfriend every time I mentioned someone with a masculine name. Like, fuck off, I just wanna go over to his house, see his geckos, and play video games. We’re like 13, what do we know about anything? (little did _I_ know haha)

Side thought but. You know how people ship characters in shows and such? Ever notice that parents often ship their kids with other kids? “She’s been playing with Miles a lot lately.” “Oh~ is that her boyfriend~?” And me, being the very impressionable and people-pleasing kindergartner I was declared that Miles and I were going to get married, because that’s what people who are boyfriend-girlfriend do, right? that’s how the adults referred to us, after all. (Sorry, Miles. You were a cool dude, and I loved hanging out with you, but it never would’ve worked out between us. I still appreciate that you were down for taking my last name, though. Respect.)

Anyway, I was the oblivious one. Fifth grade was when I attended my first sex ed class. I remember very little about it except how it started. We’re split boys in one classroom, girls in another. I’m in the back of the class next to the girl with a broken leg. The teacher walks up to the board and in big chalky letters, prints S E X on the board. The classroom erupts in a mixture of nervous giggles and guffaws. I almost cried because I was so confused. Why were they laughing? Sex is male or female. Sex is what animals have - I’ve seen it on Animal Planet! I guess I should laugh too, then? Haha? And then I was so embarrassed by how out of the loop I was that I kinda didn’t hear the rest of the lesson.

And then, I started to notice that my sister experienced attraction. Sexual, romantic, aesthetic, whatever. She was vocal about it, and that made it hard for me to ignore my lack of feeling in that area of life. I had long since labelled myself as “not looking” and eventually settled upon “uninterested”, but that didn’t stop my sis from trying to rope me into fawning over the hot celebrities or the guys who just got out of the gym. “Who do you think is hotter? This guy or that one? I can’t decide!” I never had an answer, and usually to appease her, I’d pick out the one that I knew had features she liked.

Yeah, I’ve gotten the “we’ll still love you if you like girls” talk from my mom (curious that she chose to do it when my dad was nowhere around; we both knew he wouldn’t be as accepting). I still didn’t know the term asexual, but even if I had, I wouldn’t have dropped the word in that moment.

And that brings me to the meandering core of my thoughts, I guess. Labels. Obviously, Aro/Ace describes me. I don’t deny that. It’d be silly to, anyway. But, I dunno, it’s easier to say “uninterested.” More people understand it in those terms. Don’t gotta pull out the still-relatively-obscure/niche terms. Explaining that is annoying anyway. I get enough grief for not liking chocolate, why do I gotta hear it about my love life or lack thereof? Idk where I was going with this. My brain is asleep now, so I should probably follow suit. Later

#textpost

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ratretro · 6 years ago

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The Heart Beats Chapter 4 - Scars

Title: The Heart Beats

Pairing: NaLu

Summary: Soulmate AU mashup - Red Strings. Forgotten Dreams. Colors of Gray. Marked Skin. Unfamiliar Names. Soulmates have different meanings for everyone, and Lucy struggles to find the courage to take her next step forward. Will she finally claim her future or will feelings go left unsaid?

Rating: M – sort of??? probably??????

None of these characters are owned by me, they are all owned by the wonderful Hiro Mashima!

A/N:

Alright everyone! We’ve got our winners! So, after tallying votes from my asks, dms, and on FF (ao3 had no comments) we came to these results. For NaLu: the midnight video call (honestly truly this was a super close race) and for Jerza: Coffee Shop. Based on the winning options for the ships we won’t be meeting Wendy this chapter! However, we will meet her in ch 5 or 6 so no worries haha also the midnight video call option is just good okay

FF.net - AO3

Natsu Dragneel was, by all intents and purposes, an idiot. He wracked his brain for answers on why he would put his name as ‘Hot Stuff’ in her phone. Oh man, she was going to think he was a moron. Shit, he just might be.

“Troubles with the blonde?” Jellal gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder and Natsu briefly wondered if the man was doing alright. He’d JUST moved back to his hometown and all.

“The blonde’s name is Lucy and Natsu looooves her,” Juvia called from across the empty cafe. He was after closing but the trio still had business to take care of and that took precedence over his idiocy with a girl he definitely did NOT love. He loved his soulmate. Though, sometimes that worked for and against him. Today, it was against him because damn it all the girl was amazing. She was selfless and caring.

He could inconvenience her a million times and she’d forgive him each and every one. But Lucy. Lucy was real. He could touch her, hear her voice, watch her nose scrunch up when she took a sip of a drink much too bitter. Today, it worked against him.

“I don’t like ‘er, Juvia. She’s not my soulmate.” He threw the rag down on the countertop with an annoyed grunt.

Jellal, in his infinite wisdom, assumed Natsu was one of the ‘following the crowd’ types and made the first of many mistakes.

“So? Why should that matter?” the darker-haired blunette’s voice rang into the silence and Natsu, dear Natsu, exploded.

“Huh!? What do ya mean why!? ‘Cause I love her and I can’t stand liking someone who isn’t her!”

“Have you guys met before?” because surely after a week of working at the shop Jellal would have met her by now. But he’d only ever seen the blo-- ‘Lucy’ here to visit the pinkette.

“N-no, we haven’t.” the pinkette’s head hung low and he expected the same thing he always got: then go see her instead of raging.

“Are you dating?” this was a different line of questioning then he was used to. So, Natsu, for once, listened.

“No?” Jellal spoke calmly even in the face of Natsu’s disdain. Natsu, himself, was beginning to question Jellal’s motive at this point.

“Then do as you please. See who you end up liking the most. Although, you should probably meet your soulmate if--”

“I KNOW.” an aggravated yowl left the pinkette’s throat and that was enough for Jellal to know it was a subject to drop. And so he continued to sweep and they worked in awkward silence until the cafe was closed for the night. They even had the ‘closed for emergency’ sign outside so patrons knew they’d be closed for a few days.

The trio had business to attend to after all. Business that had nothing to do with his love life.

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

The dinging of her phone was what woke her in the dead of night. The blonde fumbled and smacked at her phone in an attempt to decline the call but much to her chagrin she tapped the answer button instead.

“Hey, Lucy.” Natsu’s voice was soft and barely audible from her bedside table and it took her a moment to register who was speaking.

“Natsu?” her voice was groggy and at first the pinkette wasn’t sure what Lucy had even said. Meanwhile, the blonde herself was struggling to focus on the bright lit up screen where the vague shape of her barista was. Half-asleep and barely functioning, she waited for a response.

“Look at the screen.” Lucy had barely heard what he said. Which wasn’t surprising since she still hadn’t lifted the phone from her table.

“Don’t wanna.” a grumbled response that Natsu understood. Sort of.

“Luuuuce.” he groaned while the haze of the blonde’s waking mind began to clear.

“Fiiiiiiine,” she grumbled. The pinkette watched as her face came to view. Well, a dark outline of her face barely illuminated from the light of the phone.

“You realize it’s...” she glanced to the upper right, “12:37 AM. Right?”

“Yeah,” he said it like a statement but his voice was becoming strained, almost as if he was hurt.

“I just felt the need to talk to ya is all. Not sure why.” more strained vocals from the pinkette. He looked to be in a dimly lit location. She could hear cars passing by and even the sound of a microwave going off in the distance.

“What about? Are you okay?” she didn’t think he was but she was already expecting his lie.

“I’m fine. Nothin’ to worry about, Luce.” it seemed that the nickname would be sticking unless she rejected it but honestly it felt right. It felt like a personal connection to him. She liked that.

“Ya sure?” she grumbled, a mixture of tired and irritation at being woken if nothing was wrong.

“Where are you anyway?” now THAT was a question he’d hoped she wouldn’t ask.

“I’m on my balcony.” Technically speaking, he was on a balcony – it just wasn’t his.

“Uh huh. Sure. Are you sure you’re okay?” Her bed creaked as she shifted to an upright position to continue talking to him.

“I am. Uh--” the sound of a fight broke out in the background and Natsu cursed before the call abruptly ended. Lucy was left with a bright screen reading ‘Call Ended’ and several questions. Luckily, these could easily be answered with her visit to the shop tomorrow. Still, she worried about him. She considered calling him back to see if he was okay but quickly dismissed the thought.

Besides, she’d see him tomorrow anyway.

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

Natsu laid in his bed, cut to hell, and internally thanked the fact that Lucy hadn’t called him back. That failure of a mission was just one of their many mistakes but he’d made the biggest blunder. He’d gotten hurt; bad. Wendy had spent the entire night attempting to keep the wound from scarring but in the end, she hadn’t been able to. He’d needed several stitches.

He’d also been ignoring the inked messages on his forearm filled with panic, worry and God knew what else. Of course, she’d seen it. It would scar, badly, which would cause it to stay on her as well. Forever, it would never leave. Now, Natsu himself wouldn’t care about a measly scar but he wasn’t a girl. Girls care about things like that.

Maybe once he was out of recovery and cleared for active duty again he could talk to Juvia about it. Still, that bitch Briar would pay the next time he saw her. Though, the pinkette couldn’t say it was a total bust. They’d finally gotten information that they could turn into the police which would finally end their job. Plus, the mob syndicate, Avatar would go down in ashes. He couldn’t have them anywhere near Lucy or his soulmate which meant they couldn’t be rifling around in this city.

“We got ‘em right, gramps?” he questioned the small, elder man who was sitting on the dresser across from his bed.

“We got ‘em. But. I hate that you disobeyed a direct order AND got yourself injured.” his voice was booming for an old man and Natsu had to admit: he was scared.

“You leave me with no choice.”

“Gramps, no. Anything but that.” Natsu’s voice was exasperated.

“You’re grounded. For an entire week, you won’t leave the apartment and you WON’T be working at the shop either.” Now, Natsu wasn’t worried about funds. Most of his bills were paid by Fairy Tail including his rent. However, being forced away from the shop bothered him. He wouldn’t see Lucy or her friends. And he even liked her friends. Except for Gray. Everyone but him.

“Graaaaamps,” he whined

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

Lucy tapped her pen on the table in anger. She’d heard nothing from Natsu or her soulmate in nearly four days. Lucy was pissed, which wasn’t exactly a first for her, at her soulmate. It wasn’t about the scarring left on her abdomen. This was about her worry. She cared for him; missed him. But he’d gotten seriously injured and dropped off the face of the earth.

Lucy didn’t want to ask the question that was on her mind and it seemed like the redhead didn't either.

“Ah! May I get another winterberry tea? The color is quite refreshing.” Erza’s voice snapped her out of her stupor causing her to watch the exchange closely. She recognized the blunette male from the week prior when she and Natsu had given each other their numbers.

“You think so too? I love the color. It has to be my favorite. It’s a scarlet color, just like your hair.” the pair were smiling at each other with tinted red cheeks and the blonde nearly cooed at the two. The scene felt like sweet tea on her tongue; strong and full of diabetes. Meanwhile, her soulmate gets cut up and just disappears.

The blunette returned to the counter where Juvia, her second-favorite barista, began showing the male the ropes of making Erza’s favorite drink of the week. It’d surely change by next week but Lucy wasn’t one to judge on picky taste. She’d refused to drink a cappuccino made by anyone other than Natsu so she was getting her caffeine via the unlikely source of Earl Grey. It barely took the edge off. Still, somehow she was still steadfast on the pinkette making her drink.

She was also stubbornly waiting for his call. Pale fingers caressed her abdomen where the ragged mark of an ‘X’ now laid upon her skin.

First, her soulmate. Now, Natsu. Hives broke out across her skin as worry fell over her.

“Luce! It’s been a while, huh?”

And truly it hadn’t been.

A/N:

NEXT CHAPTER:

Gruvia. We get some Gruvia.

So next is choosing what scenes you want for each couple next:

NaLu: Balcony Scene or THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED

and

Gajevy: Lucy meets the bae or Kiss in the rain

Gruvia doesn’t get a choice because I have a dream sequence coming for them. Small reminder this is mainly nalu so i’m trying to keep it mainly about them.

I LOOK FORWARD TO NEXT CHAPTER WITH YOU ALL.

#nalu #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #otp: welcome home #ft #thb #the heart beats

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