#every other week my mother comes home with similar kinds of insane informations for me to process

[gabriellovescandy]

Kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me

[imkylotrash]

Golden

Pairing: Sky x reader

Requests: The reader is Stella’s sister but Sky is secretly in love with her and he confesses. Anonymous

and

Could you write where sky is with a princess of solaria (Stellas sister) and they attempt to keep it secret from Stella and set before the summer of the events on the fate the winx saga is set.

A/N I paired these request because they were so similar and would have the exact same plot line. Will be doing this to a couple of the requests since they’re so similar. 

“Free at last!” you exclaim as you walk out the doors of Alfea with Sky in tow. You’ve finally finished your last exam and now it’s time to just enjoy the summer. 

“So, what’s your plans then?” Sky asks propping his arm around your shoulders. There’s nothing new in this but you still get butterflies. At this point, it’s just a given whenever he touches you. 

“Oh, you know. Travelling through the realms, visiting all my rich friends. I may even buy a yacht just to pass the time.” It’s a bit of an inside joke between you and Sky. He knows you’ll have to return to Solaria and face the dragon. 

“What about you? Will you be alright?” You’re a little worried about leaving him here. Stella had decided to dump him just days before the exams once again proving that the girl had no regard for other people. Needless to say, you weren’t the biggest fan of your sister. She always tried to live up to your mother’s expectations and acted more than royally around school whereas you had decided that the disappointed frown your mother wore every time you saw her actually suited her face. 

“Yeah,” he says shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “I’ll be fine. I have Silva.” It’s right then and there you decide that there’s a greater need for you here than hiding away back in Solaria. 

“You know, my mother is already profoundly disappointed in me. I don’t think it would make much of a difference if I were to stay.” Sky’s smile is brighter than the sun when he realises you’ll be staying right here with him. 

“Thank you,” he says hugging you tightly. He’s never been one to share him emotions easily but over the years you’ve learned to decipher his many facial expressions and there was just no way you would leave him right now. Your mother is as delighted as you expected when you tell her of your plans for the summer but you figure she’ll forgive you at some point. The way you see it, there’s a throne waiting for you back at Solaria and you want to enjoy freedom as long as you possibly can. Sometimes, you catch yourself wishing that Stella was the older sister. She’d be much more suited for the royal life but there’s a strict code of conduct when it comes to heirs and you’re the first born so the crown will eventually be placed on your head.  

“You won’t be returning with me?” Stella asks as she’s packing up her suitcase. Her tone in stern already setting you off. 

“I’ll be spending enough time there once I graduate.”

“Oh yes. The ever-repeating speech on how this is your moment of freedom and you won’t give it up for anything,” Stella mocks clearly upset to be facing mother alone. You feel a pang of guilt knowing what you’re sending Stella back to but the two of you have never been able to see eye to eye especially when it came to mother’s expectations of her daughters. 

“You’re welcome to stay here at Alfea if you’d like.” It’s an offer made to be polite because you know she’ll never accept it. 

“Please. Someone has to be responsible and return home. Our people look to the royal family for support. We can’t all pretend to be someone else.” 

“I’m not pretending, Stella. If I could give you the crown, I gladly would. If I had my way, I’d be just another fairy attending Alfea.” It’s a discussion you’ve had more than once and it’s always the same outcome. You don’t want the crown and Stella does but your mother would never allow the two of you to switch. Stella doesn’t say goodbye when she leaves and you’re okay with that. Instead you head out to find Sky. 

“Ready for the summer of your life?” you ask him and he smiles. It passes by too fast. The picnics out on the field, Silva training with you, walks in the forest at night. It’s nothing grand but it becomes the perfect summer on the final day when Sky pulls you aside as all the students start to arrive. 

“I have to tell you something. I’ve been wanting to all summer but I was scared I might ruin it.” Your heart skips a beat but you tell yourself that it’s probably not what you think it is. Rather than making assumptions, you stay quiet waiting for him to speak. 

“When this summer started, I thought I’d spend it alone and heartbroken over Stella but then you stayed. And I know it seems insane since you’re Stella’s sister, but I just can’t help but feel the way I do around you,” he smiles. It’s too good to be true. There has to be some kind of catch or problem in your way but right now everything feels perfect. You carefully take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his and Sky’s cheeks turn red. He’s always so gentle and kind so you know you’ll have to make the first move. As you stare into his eyes, you notice little specks of green mixed with the blue. You finally close your eyes, lean in and kiss him. Something you’ve wanted to do since you laid eyes on him the first time. You pull away with a huge smile plastered on your face thinking this moment is perfect and then you spot her. 

“Stella.” Thankfully, she hasn’t seen you but it’s only a matter of time before she’ll spot the two of you. Hand in his, you drag him with you behind a tree keeping you out of sight. 

“Of all the things I imagined you’d say after our first kiss, Stella wasn’t one of them.” He’s teasing you but you feel horrible. Despite your many differences, you do care about Stella and it would kill her to know that you’re dating her ex-boyfriend. You’re not even sure if she’s properly done with him or not and just thinking about her finding out about the two of you is enough to make your skin crawl. 

“She can’t know,” you plead looking into his eyes. He has to understand the importance of it. She’s not strong enough mentally to handle this. 

“Hey, relax,” he says cupping your cheeks, “how about we keep it to ourselves until we know what this is?” You know you don’t want to give him up but you don’t want to hurt Stella. His offer gives you him and keeps Stella blissfully unaware of the relationship which is good enough for you. 

“Okay. Just you and me, no one else can know.” 

“Please just kiss me,” he whispers leaning in and you don’t know how you could ever refuse him. Over the next few weeks, you and Sky have stolen moments between classes and nights spent wrapped in each other’s arms. You know you shouldn’t but you love him. One night you whisper it when you think he’s sleeping and he almost gives you a heart attack when he whispers it back. 

“I thought you were sleeping,” you whisper-yell trying to hide your face in his chest. 

“You’ve been turning around every two seconds. It’s impossible to fall asleep,” he chuckles wrapping his arms tightly around you. 

“I’m sorry, I have a lot on my mind,” you sigh. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks turning on the lamp by his bedside table. It showers Sky in a golden light making him look more angelic than human. It’s not fair how some people look so beautiful without even trying. 

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know where to start,” you reply sitting up and leaning your back against the wall. You want to tell Stella so you can be done with sneaking around. As much fun as it’s been, you’re getting tired of watching Stella try to flirt with him because she decided he was good enough after all. Of course, he’s been turning her down but it just doesn’t seem to click with her. But you also know it’s a risk telling her since she’s not likely to congratulate you. 

“I guess I’m just tired of sneaking around,” you finally say. He signals for you to lay down with him again and you have no reservation as you crawl into his arms. 

“I’m ready for it when you are. Frankly, I just want to tell everyone you’re mine so the boys leave you alone.” 

“Please, you literally have a whole fan club waiting for you at every corner giggling and blushing if you even look in their direction.” Sky has become very popular now that he appears single and you can’t blame them. He is ridiculously handsome and more importantly, he’s kind and patient and warm. Right about now, he’s your favourite person in the whole world. 

“I do not,” he protests but even he knows it is the truth. His face is serious when he says: “Maybe we should tell her. I know you wanted to protect her but we can’t hide it forever. You’re expected to marry at some point and so am I.” 

“I know. I know. I just feel like a horrible sister.” This feeling of guilt comes as a surprise. You’ve never been that close but you don’t want to be the reason she’s hurting. 

“You’re not a horrible sister. Everything you’ve done these past few weeks has been to make sure she didn’t get hurt. It’s not selfish to want to be happy, Y/N.” But that’s just it. You’re already far too aware of your own happiness. It’s the reason you always stay away from Solaria and the expectations of the crown. It’s why you’re lying in bed with Sky right now. You've always put your own happiness first and you’ve never had a problem with it until now. 

“I’ll talk to her first thing in the morning then.” He kisses you one last time before you both fall asleep. You wake up to a note from him informing you that Silva had added a morning practice which meant you had no reason not to march into Stella’s room right now and tell her about you and Sky. 

“Can I talk to you?” you ask entering Stella’s bedroom. 

“If you must,” she replies not even bothering to look at you. 

“I don’t know how to say this so I’m just going to say it. I’m dating Sky,” you force yourself to keep going even as she goes completely rigid, “and I have been for a while now. I’ve kept it a secret because I never meant for this to happen and I didn’t want to hurt you. But it’s getting serious now and I needed you to know. I promise I’d never ever go for him if I didn’t have feelings for him.” She’s quiet for so long you’re worried she might just never speak to you again. 

“I’m not happy you kept it from me but I suppose if he has to date someone else, it wouldn’t be horrible if it was you.” Relief floods your body as you realise that she’s not breaking and she doesn’t hate you. 

“Thank you.” This is about as heartfelt as it’ll ever be between you and Stella. You share a moment locking eyes with each other before she turns her back to you. 

“I’m going to go then,” you say slowly backing towards the door. Stella doesn’t say anymore but the fact that you’re still breathing is a much better reaction than you’d dared hope for. Immediately after you head to the training grounds to find Sky. Once you spot him, you run right into his arms and he lifts you from the ground. 

“I love you,” you say kissing him in front of everyone. It’s so freeing to know that the secret is out. 

“I love you too.”

[soulmate-game]

Prompt: “How did you- No, nevermind, I don't want to know, plausible deniability and all that" with... hmmmm.... Dick? Yeah, with Dick!

Real quick, I think a few of you misunderstood. When I say 3-from-1, I mean I am taking your single quote and pairing, and using it in all three prompts, not just one. Maybe this first one will help explain. Here are parts 1 and 2, since I think I’ve gone long enough without giving you guys content. I’m still working on the last part for this prompt, but it should be done soon!

— Part 1: The Romantic One (so Dickinette)

Tom and Sabine had decided that maybe a break from Paris was in order. Nobody could tell if it was the maniac turning random citizens into superpowered villains every other day, the fact that their daughter had come home with a few bruises that suggested extreme escalation on the side of her school bullies, or how they had caught said daughter asleep against her mannequin— standing up and drooling all over her expensive fabric.

Paris was clearly not a healthy place for Marinette at the moment, and a nice month-long vacation to Jump City was just what they needed. It was similar enough, with its villains and heroes, that they wouldn’t get too whiplashed by the long change in scenery. But it was also a lot safer than Paris was at the moment, and without nearly as many frequent large-scale villain attacks that ended with half the city in ruins as other places (looking at you, Gotham and Metropolis). The lack of villains that took advantage of civilian emotions was a plus.

Marinette, for one, was extremely grateful for the change. Sure, she still had to teleport back to Paris whenever an Akuma showed up, but Jump City was so much easier to relax in. And the ability to see the city’s heroes just walking around in full costume during the day, just relaxing, was an unexpectedly nice thing to experience. Marinette, as it turned out, happened to have a similar taste for places to hang out.

Now, she never spoke to them. She tended to just smile at the sight of them and go back to her own business— she knew how annoying it could be when people always invaded someone’s personal life just because they were well known. So when she saw them every now and then at the best arcade in town, or at one of the few vegan-friendly restaurants she liked? It brightened her day a bit, and she was pleasantly relaxed for quite a while afterwards. It was like, despite never actually approaching them, she was still among friends for once. People who understood everything she had gone through over the past several years since donning the Ladybug miraculous.

So yeah, she was enjoying her time in Jump City. So much so that her parents extended the trip indefinitely, and went through all the necessary paperwork to open a second location for their bakery in the city. They liked it there too.

That led to Marinette standing in line inside of the bank, right after getting all her own paperwork to attend school in Jump City in order. She was already exhausted from all the waiting and general boredom that followed doing anything official in America, and it was already past sunset to boot. The last thing she wanted was to be around when a villain attacked. The bank was already about to close and she didn’t know if they’d call her up in time for her to do what she needed to do.

And what happens? A blue-skinned magician with clear insanity and far too much of a resemblance to an Akuma to give her any sort of comfort comes bursting in and robbing the place. Marinette could only sigh, taking out her phone and informing her parents about the change in plans with all the ease of someone who was far too used to these kinds of things to be healthy. Luckily, the Teen Titans burst in only a few seconds later— must have been on a stake out, she thought.

Marinette put her phone away, deciding just to watch everyone in action. It was almost surreal, seeing such a large team fighting with such fluidity and lack of arguing. They seemed like such a perfect team, it made her envious. Only Chat was a good partner anymore, Marinette dreaded the days she had to find another temporary holder because nobody was a safe choice anymore. But the Teen Titans? They were a beautiful sight to behold.

That is, until Mumbo set his sights on her. The only civilian who wasn’t currently restrained, panicked, or hiding. Marinette blinked.

Oh, she thought. I must have been so tired I forgot to react to anything again.

But Marinette was also too tired to care much about first impressions, so the second Mumbo grabbed her arm and tried to use her as a hostage, she Reacted. The Teen Titans could only watch as Marinette jumped up and over Mumbo’s head, dragging his arm behind him in the process, before slamming her other fist into the small of his back and sending him onto his knees. As he tried to twist away, she kneed his wand out of his hand and twisted his other arm behind his back before he could cast another spell. Right before he could say some magic word and turn the tables on her, he was met with her head hitting the back of his and sending him unconscious immediately.

Problem handled, Marinette let go of him and backed off, dusting her hands off before letting loose a huge yawn.

She turned to leave when Cyborg’s hesitant voice Called out: “Uh, Ma’am? You should wait for the police. They’ll probably want your statement.”

Marinette blinked, and sighed as her shoulders dropped in dismay. “Oh yeah. I forgot I actually fought this time. Sorry,” she sighed again before adjusting her purse on her shoulder and obediently walking further inside the bank, leaning against the wall to wait. That was when Robin approached her, passing a few glances between her and the now-bound-up Mumbo.

"How did you- No, nevermind, I don't want to know, plausible deniability and all that,” he cut himself off mid-question, shaking his head. Marinette couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s nothing all that special, Monsieur Robin,” Marinette assured, still amused. “And I’ve seen you do far more impressive things, I’m hardly that good of a fighter. My Maman has a background in martial arts, her whole side of the family has a minor obsession with teaching the girls how to fight,” she admitted with a small shrug. “It’s how we bonded, growing up. Every weekend she’d spar with me and we’d spend the whole day just training, and my Papan would bring food in every now and then when he wanted us to take a break. We don’t do it as often now, my Maman says she’s getting a little too old to spar all the time, but I still practice on my own.”

The vigilante blinked, not knowing how to respond for a moment. It was then that Marinette noticed the entire team had been listening, the police having already arrived and taking Mumbo away in cuffs. She blushed a bit, coughing into her hand in embarrassment.

“A-Ah, well. I wouldn’t have interfered at all if I wasn’t so tired, I’m sorry if I got in your way,” she began to babble, the usual nerves that came with having so many eyes on her kicking in. “I tend to space out when I’m exhausted, and so I kinda forgot to react when Mumbo came in? I just spaced out, and I got distracted watching you guys fight so well, and then he tried to grab me and I just… kinda… reacted?” Her voice got faster and higher as she spoke, until she ended her babbling by making it sound like a question. “I promise I won’t make this habit or anything, it’s just been a long day!”

“You…” It was Beast Boy who spoke up, eyes wide. “Did that while you were exhausted?! Woah! I’ve never seen anyone other than Robin fight like that when they were tired!”

Marinette knew her face must have been completely red by then, because it felt like her head was on fire. “I-it’s really not a big deal!” She started waving her hands in Marinette Denial, shaking her head like crazy. “P-probably just a fluke or something! I’ll just give my statement and get out of your hair!” She didn’t wait for a response before fleeing to the police out of sheer humiliation, and giving them the world’s fastest statement. The Titans tried to get her attention as she left, but her face was still one giant, ripe tomato and she just speed walked right past them without a word.

She didn’t even notice that she was followed home, or that she had a team of heroes watching her for a while before they completed their background search and left back for their own home. Or that Robin cast a glance back at her apartment several times as they left, questions crossing his mind too fast to recall all of them.

It wasn’t until a week later that Marinette saw them again, this time when she was at the grocery store. She let her shoulders drop when she saw them talking to each other in the middle of a random aisle, debating over which brand of a product to buy. Once again, a small smile crossed over her lips and she walked on by, fully intent on leaving them be and enjoying the aura of calm that their presence always seemed to give her. It was as she was calmly debating over which kind of fruit would make the best filling for the danishes she wanted to make, that a hand tapped her shoulder. She hummed, tearing her eyes away from the blueberries and raspberries to turn around.

“Yes? Do you need—“ she cut herself off when she saw that the person who had tapped her shoulder was none other than Robin himself, with the rest of his team giving her friendly smiles over his shoulder. She blue screened for a moment before shaking her head, sending him a small, confused smile. “Is there something you need, Monsieur Robin?”

“As a matter of fact,” he ran a hand through his unfairly fluffy hair as he gave her a far too charming, lopsided grin. “I hope you don’t mind that I did some research on you and your family after we met last week—“ Marinette almost laughed when she saw how his teammates face-palmed behind him and quietly groaned about how much tact he lacked. “—and I realized why your movements seemed so familiar. Your mother wouldn’t happen to be from the Cheng family in Hong Kong, would she?”

Marinette immediately lost most of her embarrassment, snorting. “You’re the one who did my background check, you tell me,” she teased. The rest of the Titans seemed floored by the fact that she wasn’t at all annoyed, insulted, or creeped out. “But since you’re asking anyway, yes. The group of primarily female martial artists in Hong Kong, the Chengs, is run by my Aunt. Why?”

Robin’s smile grew. “Well, it just so happens that they have one of the only unique combat styles that my mentor— Batman, of course— was never able to learn.”

Marinette actually did laugh now, connecting the dots as to what he wanted to actually ask. “Ah, because they only accept male pupils if they are blood-relations, non? Let me guess,” she crossed her arms and popped one hip, giving him a smug little grin. “You want me to teach you?”

“We have the best training facilities you have ever seen,” he bribed, eyes practically shining at the prospect of training in a new style of combat.

“I don’t doubt it,” Marinette got a little dreamy eyed herself at the thought. “And Maman can’t spar with me anytime soon… why not? I’m not bound by the Cheng rules after all, nobody can get mad if I teach you. And it requires a lot of gymnastic ability, which you clearly already have. Just one question,” she turned, gesturing to the fruit behind her. “Do you prefer blueberry or raspberry? I’m trying out a new danish recipe and don’t know which to choose.”

She did not miss how, as she was walking out with a few new acquaintances by her side and a few cases of blueberries, Cyborg whispered to Beast Boy:

“I can’t believe Robin actually picked up a girl when he led with the ‘we did an extensive check on your family history’ schtick!”

—*—*—*—*—*

Slam! Marinette’s shin collided with Robin’s waist while they were both mid-air, sending the vigilante flying to the ground, tumbling until he could gain traction and stop himself. Marinette, on the other hand, landed on the padded floor of the training room nimbly.

“Not bad!” She praised. “You’re picking it all up really quickly!” Robin scoffed goodbye-naturedly, smirking as he stood up.

“If you didn’t restrict me to only using Cheng-style, I’d have won,” he boasted. Marinette’s eyes shone playfully at the challenge.

“Are you sure? I restricted myself to that style as well,” she teased. “It is the best way for you to learn, after all.”

As per usual, the rest of the Titans were nearby either doing their own training or snacking as they watched. Nobody left Marinette alone when she was at the Tower, which she understood. Apparently they had had someone betray them in the past, so she understood being cautious around her even if she had been teaching Robin twice a week for the past two months. Starfire floated up, flying over to tell them both about how much more exciting this spar had been than the last few, but the Tamaranean was interrupted when Marinette’s phone let out a loud alarm.

Being who they were, all the Titans stiffened and were immediately at alert. Marinette cursed softly, pulling out her phone to see—

“What’s an Akuma Alert?” Robin, ever the nosy idiot, asked. Marinette clenched her jaw. This was not good. It was only nine in the morning in Jump City, making it three in the morning back in Paris. Marinette had hoped he wouldn’t decide to have a late night attack when she was in Titan Tower and essentially trapped.

Marinette looked up from her phone, looking around as everyone’s gazes grew suspicious the longer she stayed silent. Until, finally, she sighed and silenced her phone. She began to speak even as she unzipped her purse to put it away.

“It’s an alert from Paris. I’m sorry, and I understand if you do not wish to see me after this, but I must go.”

“Go where? Paris?” Raven asked, sweeping up to stand next to Beat Boy. If this turned out to be another Terra situation, the boy would need support again. Terra had torn his heart out, and Beast Boy had finally allowed himself to like Marinette and get close to her as a friend. All of them had. “How?”

Marinette clenched her eyes shut, mourning the friendships she was sure she had just lost. Maybe she should stick to the opposite side of the city from then on, so they wouldn’t have to run into her again. With that plan in mind, she drew the magical pair of glasses out of her purse and put them on, making Kaalki materialize.

The Titans stiffened, and Marinette felt her heart shatter a little. But she still called on both of her transformations, and left to save Paris.

She did not go back to the Tower. When the battle was over, she just opened the returning portal straight to the alley outside her apartment and went back home to sob into her pillow. She couldn’t explain what was going on, wasn’t sure they would even want to listen. And she and Robin had been getting so close, too.

But Marinette would not stick around after keeping secrets. She was certain they hated her, anyway.

She went out of her way to avoid them, not even looking their way when they passed by her apartment— on purpose, she was sure. She did everything she could to avoid them. But one day, she couldn’t. She was in the middle of trying to lose them in the alleys on her way to go grocery shopping, when a wall of black cut her off, shadows moving to pile up dumpsters and block her escape. Marinette shrunk in on herself— so they were finally moving up to using their powers, huh?

She heard Starfire drop down to hover behind her next, then the sight of a green hawk landing on a balcony nearby gave away Beast Boy. Robin dropped down from a rooftop, and Cyborg pulled up in the T-Car to block the entrance of the alleyway.

“Marinette,” Robin started, but she shook her head and cut him off.

“Robin, I’m trying to stay out of you guys’s way. I get it, I kept secrets and that’s not cool, I’m not gonna interfere in your fights, you don’t have to worry about—“

“Friend Marinette, we are not angry,” Starfire spoke up, flying over to land next to her. She put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. Her eyes widened, and the smaller girl gulped.

“You… aren't?”

“We hacked into Paris news and street cams after you left,” Cyborg admitted, crossing his arms before giving her a wide smile. “Why didn’t you just tell us you were one of Paris’s heroes? Did ya think we wouldn’t understand or something?” Marinette froze, and then her face grew red when realization set in.

“... Oh Kwami. I’m freaking out about heroes finding out my identity… as a hero…” she groaned as soon as she said it, her head falling into her hands as her friends laughed around her.

“Guess I don’t need that plausible deniability for the reasons I thought,” Robin joked, making Marinette glare at him.

“Don’t tease me, I’m too busy being mortified.”

“Too busy for me to offer you a room at the tower?” He asked, and Marinette looked up to berate him for continuing to tease her, only to stop and realize that his expression said he was completely serious. Her eyes widened in shock once again, and she opened and closed her mouth only for her voice to not work. Robin smiled, holding out one of his hands to her.

“Just for whenever you need a break. Judging by your reaction, your parents don’t know about Ladybug, right?” Marinettte winced at his words. She gave them a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck.

“No, back when we lived in Paris it was way too risky for anyone to know, even them. And now that we’re in Jump City, it’s been so long that…” she shook her head. “I don’t think they’d take it well.”

“Because they don’t understand,” Raven guessed, earning a nod and a small smile from the Parisian girl.

“And that’s why we’re offering you a room,” Robin continued, crossing his arms and giving her a confident, relaxed smile. “A temporary one, for whenever you need to drop by and be around people who understand you a bit better. Now, everything outside of the bedroom itself will still heavily monitor you for a while, but—“

“That’s fine!” Marinette agreed easily, beaming happily. “I get it, trust isn’t something that is easy to earn especially when it’s already been broken before. But the offer itself is already extremely generous, thank you!” Marinette lunged forward, tackling Robin in a tight hug. He laughed, returning the embrace.

“Dogpile!” Beast Boy yelled, of course transforming into a giant Saint Bernard as he leapt to start a group hug. His huge, furry body slammed Marinette and Robin to the ground, making them groan in pain and annoyance before Starfire picked all three of them up and started her own crushing hug. Followed by Cyborg wrapping his hands around the pile of superhero on the opposite side, and Raven… just kinda floating over to slump on top of the ball of teenaged heroes in the laziest hug ever.

Marinette didn’t stop laughing until her sides hurt.

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette had become a constant presence at the Tower, and Ladybug had even become an occasional member of the Team. She was officially labeled as a reserve member of the Titans, since her duties in Paris came first. But she was fine with that. She didn’t want to draw Hawkmoth’s attention to Jump City after all, but the few and far-between appearances she made weren’t too odd. It had already been a year and a half of her new life in America, on one of the weekends where Marinette found herself sprawled against the couch scrolling through Instagram on her phone, that everything changed. She heard the elevator door open, and took only a second to narrow down who it could be.

First; Kori was visiting Tamaran and wouldn’t be back for at least another week. Victor was working on the T-car and probably wouldn’t come back up for a while. Rachel was meditating, as always, and Marinette could still feel the magic aura from the floor above that told her that she had not moved a muscle. Gar was taking a literal cat nap on the kitchen counter. Only Robin was unaccounted for, since he had gone to Gotham to visit Batman for some “top secret Bat business” and could come back at any moment.

Deduction done, Marinette felt herself smile unintentionally. Her and Robin had become immeasurably close, and she had been pining after him for almost— well, since she first started training him all that time ago. So she sat up, ready to go attack her best friend and major crush in a hug.

“Welcome ba— WHAT THE FUCK?!” Marinette tripped over thin air like she hardly did nowadays, floored by the sight in front of her. Robin was a stickler for his identity, though the rest of the Titans weren’t really. She had never seen him out of uniform, including mask, in the entire time she’d known him. Never heard his real name.

But here stood a boy her age, with extremely familiar fluffy hair and strong jaw. Who seemed extremely conflicted and distraught, in a black hoodie and sweatpants. It was the glimpse of red and yellow under the fully zipped-up hoodie and the slip of black fabric he held in one tightly curled fist that solidified exactly who this blue-eyed beauty was. Marinette swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

Her yell had startled Garfield awake, who burst into his normal form and was staring at the scene equally wide- eyed. He made a few rapid gestures with his hands before choking out;

“I— I’m gonna… go see if Cy needs help,” before he scrambled away and into the elevator, flabbergasted. Robin didn’t say a word the whole time, just silently moving out of the way for the other boy.

Once Beast Boy was gone, the silence returned with stifling intensity. Marinette finally managed to clear her throat and get her thoughts in order.

“Are you okay?” She asked, because his well-being was more important than the fact that she was seeing his whole face for the first time. Because the fact that this was happening at all meant that something was probably very wrong. Just to make sure, she reached out with her Guardian abilities to read his aura— and yes, it was Robin. It couldn’t be anyone else.

But he didn’t look at all like their normally composed, erratic, confident leader. He looked like a young adult who had just had his world upturned and didn’t know how to manage it. He finally raised his eyes from the ground to meet her’s.

“... Batman got a new Robin… a while ago, apparently.”

Marinette sucked air through her teeth, grimacing. Yeah, that… that was a lot. “Come here,” she sat down and patted the couch next to her. “You clearly need to talk. We can even spar later if you want.”

He walked over, sighing and running a hand through his hair. “For once, I don’t think sparring will help. I mean yeah, I left Batman a long time ago because he wouldn’t take me seriously, but…”

Marinette understood. That was different than Batman giving his title to someone entirely new without even telling him. So she sat, and she listened as Robin explained all about his new adoptive brother, about the fight he had had with Bruce. Because apparently Batman was Bruce Wayne, but Marinette would shelve that headache for another day. At the end of it all, she hummed.

“Sounds like you need a new name then.”

“Mari,” Robin glared at her half heartedly. “That’s all you have to say? Really?”

“No,” she shrugged. “But I can’t keep calling you Robin, can I? But okay, you want me to be serious? It sounds like he was trying to do a good thing, getting Jason off the streets. Was he right to just give your moniker away with no warning? Of course not. But I don’t think he did it maliciously. If anything, I think this proves that Robin is a title for Batman’s sidekick to hold. And you’ve gotten way past that point in your life.”

“Well, for starters,” he said after a while. “My real name’s Dick.”

Marinette deadpanned at him, raising an eyebrow. “... I’m sorry, what?”

That got a snort out of him, and he smiled for the first time since he got back, running a hand through his hair again as he grinned at her. “Well, technically it’s Richard. Richard Grayson. But I prefer going by Dick.”

“Oh for the love of— good luck surviving Victor and Gar after you tell them that,” she warned, rubbing her temples at the mere thought of the chaos that was going to ensue. Rob— Dick— just laughed. But this time when he fell silent, Marinette didn’t immediately notice through her preemptive headache. But when she did, she looked up at him only to see him staring at her silently, an odd spark in his eyes. “What?”

“Well, if we’re admitting things and getting rid of secrets…” he started, leaning back a bit as his cheeks suddenly took on a pink tint. He cleared his throat, but met her eyes bravely. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while, Marinette. If, uh, if you want. To go out with me, I mean.”

Marinette sat there, out of order, for a moment as her brain refused to work. Dick panicked.

“I mean, I get it if you don’t. Dating in the team and all, probably not the smartest move ever. So I get it—“

“Shut up,” Marinette interrupted, her face entirely pink. “I just couldn’t talk for a sec. yes, Dick. A million times, yes I’ll go out with you. Holy crap how dare you catch me off guard like that you jerk,” she glared at him before the two of them broke, bursting into laughter and leaning on one another.

They had gone through a lot. If the others found them slumped against one another on the couch, asleep and still holding hands, well they deserved the rest after the day they’d had. Now whether or not they deserved the many photos that had been taken to be held as blackmail against them? That was up for debate.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 2: The same prompt, but siblings this time

[redrosesartcabin]

Self indulgent series part 1

At home where everything seems fine

(Kenji x female reader, first perspective) (This story was originally written for me about me, which is why it’s called the self indulgent series. But because I’ve written so god damn much I decided to edit it a little, edit some things out as well etc and share some of it with you, I hope you’ll enjoy it!)

The horrors were over.

Where day after day, week after week we had to fight for our survival.

It was finally over.

Setting foot on land was a dream come true for us all, though it was also a heart wrenching goodbye as we went off home.

We had longed for home for so long, but we had also found a family in our new friends.

I especially felt that Kenji took the goodbye hard. Maybe even the hardest.

After all this time I knew all too well, that despite all the wealth he has, despite all the things he owns and the comfort he enjoys in life, there was no family he was going home to.

He was an only child with no known mother in the picture and an absent father. It tore me apart as I had to release him from the tight hug he had me in. It was the kind of hug that begged you to never let go. But I had to. My family was waiting. I had that luck.

I turned around with pain in my heart for him but the utmost joy as I saw my parents and siblings with tears in their eyes, seeing their long-lost daughter and sister alive and well.

I felt infinite warmth as they brought me into their embrace and we finally went home.

 Before going home, we had told each other’s socials (none of us remembered our phone number after all that time) so we would stay in touch.

In the beginning we would talk to each other every day whenever possible for us. We all had a hard time especially when it came to getting into daily school life again, since we had to start over with the grade we had already started and thus weren’t with our old friends again, who had on top of that moved on as they had thought we had died and thus it was hard to reconnect.

Luckily, we all somehow found new connections again (many people took pity in us for what we had lived through) and we could move on.

As we did, so did our chatting.

No: of course, we didn’t lose contact. We were all a second family to each other and there was no way in hell we’d ever be able to live without each other ever again. Not after what we’ve been through.

We however lost the need to tell each other every little thing and could live on our own. Much like when a child moves out from their parent’s house. The child is used to seeing their parent every single day so the parents (if they are good parents that is) will feel the need that the child writes them every day and the child will feel the need to write and connect every day. But as they learn to be independent, they will lose their need to be connected to their parent and the parents will start trusting the child and not need them to write every day or all the time.

That was the case with us all: Except when it came to Kenji and me.

 As unbelievable as it would’ve seemed in the past, we both became best friends. We would send each other stupid memes and laugh about animal videos and Tiktok or vine compilations on Youtube, or, on the other hand of the spectrum, we’d talk through the nightmares we sometimes had about what we lived through and the permanent trauma our time in Jurassic World had caused us. Somehow, we felt the most comfortable talking to each other about that as well as laughing about the same things.

We seemed to have a similar psyche, despite him being extroverted whilst I was introverted and him acting like a jerk to appear cool, whilst I would often refrain from talking and try to appear cold so people wouldn’t know who I was.

But on the insight, when you’d look past that outer shell, it turns out we are very similar people with very similar views. Kind of an opposites attract thing where we both had qualities that we both could benefit from and grow together as a person whilst holding the same principals and morals.

Though quicker than I could blink, that opposites attract thing turned into a huge, massive, enormous, gigantic crush.

 I should’ve known that this would happen. Right after I figured it out for myself, I just had to groan. I had always found him very pretty, though I would’ve never admitted that: He had enough of an ego, I didn’t need to feed into that act any more than necessary.

During our adventurous time on the dino-island, I hadn’t had too much time to think about my own feelings. But now that I was safe again in my comfortable home, I had finally realized my dreaded crush.

I didn’t dread it, because it was him. I didn’t even dread it too much because we didn’t live in the same place (though that was quite annoying too). I dreaded it mostly, because of the simple fact that I probably wasn’t his type. And I hated that my first deep friendship with a boy had turned my head upside down after all. But he was just too beautiful not to crush on.

Or maybe I was even in love.

And so, I kept on dreading it, until one crazy day.

 I was exiting my school around lunch time on Friday, idly chatting with a bunch of my newfound friends, when I detected a helicopter on the schoolyard.

“No way”, I whispered

“Might that be your little rich boyfriend?”, one of my girl friends asked me teasingly

“Oh shut it”, I gave her a jab in the side but had to giggle nonetheless.

And indeed, it was him. I mean: What other person would make such a grand arrival on a schoolyard?

Kenji had seemed to have detected me and got out of the helicopter.

“Y/Nnnnnnn”, Kenji yelled, stretching my name as he did

“Kenji!”, I screamed back and ran into his arms he opened wide for a loving embrace.

I didn’t care that everyone was looking or that they thought we both were lovers and that this might be a tad bit embarrassing and overboard: I had missed him too much to give a damn.

“Kenj’ my dude, what are you doing here?”, I asked, getting out of our embrace to take a good look at him. He was well dressed and styled as always.

“Sightseeing”, he answered with a sarcastic undertone which made me raise an eyebrow (I of course knew why he was here, it was a rhetorical question), “…Visiting you of course”, he explained anyways, “can’t I miss my best friend?”, he asked and I could feel my cheeks grow red.

Yes… best friend.

“Of course,”, I smiled back, “I missed you too, ya dingus. Though why did you come with the helicopter? Don’t you think it’s a little…much?”

“Well first of all: No, never. Secondly: It’s faster to fly here with the heli, and thirdly: I talked to your parents and they agreed you can come to my crib for the weekend”

“Really? You’re not messing with me?!”

“I swear”, he said, lifting his hand to make the swearing sign to show his uncrossed fingers, “and if you still don’t believe me you can just check your phone”, he added as he had pledged is truthfulness.

I tucked it out of my backpack and there it was: A message from my mom wishing me a good time over at Kenji’s. Plus informing me she had packed me a little luggage that Kenji already had in his helicopter. I wrote her thanks and a heart before facing Kenji again with a content smile.

“Ok then: What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”, I laughed, “Later you guys!”, I turned around to my friends who were giving me cheeky smiles and a thumbs up.

 The flight lasted three hours in total. Though it felt like no time at all as Kenji and I caught up on things. And even when we were done with that, we found a way to talk about anything and nothing at all or sometimes even just sit there in a comfortable silence and looking out of the window. I had never flown in a helicopter and was in constant awe of it all. Kenji had made a little bit fun of that and called it “cute” which however made me fluster more than anything else. Him calling anything I do cute just made the butterflies in my stomach swirl like crazy.

 We arrived on top of a huge roof that had a designated helicopter landing spot.

“Wow damn. Your house really is big!”

“Y/N: That’s the helicopter Garage”

“WHAT”

As we got out a tall man in a black suit, who carried my luggage, accompanied us through a trap door on the ground down to a huge hall with several helicopters in different colors and sizes.

My mouth was wide agape as I looked at it all.

“And where in the ever-loving f*ck is your real house then?”, I asked

“We are gonna be brought there by the limo in a sec”, he explained as casually as someone saying they were going grocery shopping.

Though that was probably more unusual for anyone in his family than it was for me to drive in a limousine.

 We got out of the garage and waited on a small patio. Only a couple of seconds after we had exited, surely enough, a pitch black, perfectly cleaned limo appeared. A chauffeur exited the driver side opening the door, way in the back, “welcome Sir Kenji and Madame. Please enter”, he said in a very British accent and motioned us to get into the car.

“Wow” is all I could say at first but then could muster up a “thank you” without sounding too flabbergasted.

 The drive from the helicopter Garage to the actual house (if you could call it that) was only a couple of minutes, but boy what a couple of minutes!

I was looking out of the window yet again. This time I was looking at a huge, very well groomed, garden. It had huge rose bushes, ponds with statues spewing water, a maze… just like you’d imagine the garden of a king to look like.

“Kenji: This is batshit insane. You live in a freaking palace!”, I exclaimed.

“Well: Did you think I was exaggerating when I said I was filthy rich?”

“Yes! Kinda!”, I answered, feeling my voice heighten, still not being able to process the sight before me, “it’s hard to believe that people can live like that”.

At that he just laughed, and we kept on just enjoying our company in silence.

 And finally, we truly arrived.

We were let out again by the chauffeur. As I exited, I noticed a red carpet being rolled out in front of me.

I turned to Kenji arching an eyebrow at him.

“A red carpet? Really?”

“What? I just wanted the lady to feel welcome”, he grinned, and I couldn’t but laugh and feel my cheeks redden again.

I everted my eyes from his, because of how flustered I got, but mostly to look at the house… or well: Mansion.

It was a very modern construction. Mostly white and looking futuristic. It was the kind of construction you’d expect a man, owning one or the other huge corporation, to have.

It was almost a disappointing contrast to the old seeming garden, but it was impressive nonetheless. I felt like I had jumped forward in time to the year 2030 or something.

After analyzing the mansion for a bit, we walked towards the dark gray double door that was opened by what seemed to be a sort of butler.

I was now faced with the entrance hall. It was all paved with a grave shiny stone and had a big, golden chandelier on the exaggeratedly high ceiling. In the back of the hall were two gray stairways going up to the left and right with glass barriers. On the front were clothe holders made of ebony wood and hanging hooks made out of fine steel.

“If this visit gets anymore incredible, I’m gonna faint”, I whispered

“Please don’t, ‘cause it will get better, but I’m glad you like it”, he whispered back, and I giggled like a little schoolgirl.

 Honestly, I could go on and on about everything he showed me in that building, but that would probably be twenty pages long, so I’m going to summarize with bullet points:

 ·      The west wing, like in Beauty and the Beast, is off limits: Except it’s because Kenji’s father was working there and harboring some kinda lab or something. A little shady if you ask me but I didn’t further question that

·      The east wing is full of fun rooms: A swimming pool room, a swimming pool patio outside together with a Shakuzi, a small private cinema room and of course, deep down in the cellar (at least he calls it that, for me it feels more like a casino), the bowling alley.

We spent the most time there, playing round after round where I didn’t let him win. Funny enough (though not the haha kind of funny) he almost cried tears of joy as he lost against me

·      The middle part, one could say, had the entrance hall, the kitchen, as well as the living room that had a ginormous couch and a huge 3D Tv with a Nintendo, Xbox and the newest Playstation. We played a couple of games in which I always lost because my parents never allowed me to have a gaming console and thus I was a bit inexperienced with most of the games, except in the case of U-sing: I played that with my ex best friend from primary school when we were little, plus I have a good voice whilst Kenji, well… he could work on his vocals. We however had fun either way.

·      And the third segment is the upper rooms with three bathrooms (one of which was Kenji’s), a spa room, a sauna and the bedrooms (that were strangely far apart from each other. A very bad gut feeling told me, that was on purpose).

 As we arrived in Kenji’s room, I already saw my small red suitcase laying on the white, very comfortable looking carpet. It was one of those carpets with the long white fur like texture. I sometimes wondered what hid amongst the long fur, but knew in Kenji’s case, this room was kept squeaky clean by his father’s staff so I wouldn’t have to worry about that.

‘The guy cares a little I guess’, I thought as my thoughts wandered to Kenji’s father.

 Kenji’s room itself indicated no personality at all. It was extremely odd. It looked like it came right out of a magazine. It had a big bed (usually such a bed a married couple in their 40’s would have), a white, of course, big wardrobe, a black colored dresser with a less impressive, yet still pretty modern Tv and another small dresser beside the bed, that had a very boring looking nighttime lamp on it where you could regulate the light by tapping on the bottom part. And a couple of steps away, parallel to the entrance door, was a big glass wall with an integrated door which led to a wooden balcony that had a small table, two chairs and a sun-umbrella.

‘Or maybe’, I continued the thought from before, ‘he simply cares about his son’s image’.

 “Nice room”, I said, so it wouldn’t seem suspicious that I wasn’t as exited this time about what I saw. But I hate hiding the truth and when I try doing what I hate, I don’t come off as a good liar. So, one can imagine: He noticed my hesitation.

“Is something wrong y/n?”, he asked, genuinely concerned, “is there something in here you don’t like? I can remove-“

“No”, I interrupted him, “there is nothing wrong with it. That’s just the thing: It’s immaculate”

“And why is that… bad?”, he asked a bit confused. Not angry confused, but just plain old confused. I felt sorry for him: I simply just think too deeply about things sometimes.

“It’s not bad”, I answered, “I’d just say its extremely weird: Don’t you have any posters you wanna hang up? Or pictures? Photographies of memories with your friends? Books or magazines you like to have at your bedside? It’s just: You have so much personality, I sometimes fear you’ll implode if you fail to show it even for a second. I can’t imagine that you don’t want to decorate your room in any way at all”

“But what if I do?”, Kenji asked, though his confused expression had turned into a cold glare that made me wish he would look confused again. I felt a lump built in my throat and my heart race in fear. Not because I was scared of him: But more so of what he was trying to hide by pretending.

“Kenji”, I said softly, letting a concerned frown adorn my face, “it’s ok. I’m your best friend. You can talk to me about it. And before you ask: I know what this is all about as much as you know that I know. But I won’t say it because at the end of the day, it’s your choice, but just know: I’m there for you, I won’t judge”

There was a moment of deafening silence as Kenji seemed to contemplate whether he should react defensive and angry, that I brought it up, or tell the truth.

I was glad when I could visibly see his guard drop as he looked at me with saddened eyes.

It was heartbreaking, but I’d rather have that than a stupid fight. I’d rather have that, than him being arrogant and prideful, trying to push me away as he had in the very beginning in Jurassic World.

He sat down on his bed, and I right beside him, looking at him concerned as he stared on the floor.

“You’re right: It is because of my father.”, he began, “You see: He wants me to become like him. Keep the business going. I’m like the first born to a king. And so, he decided there was no room for me to be too much of an individual at some point. He wanted not only the house to always look presentable in case one of his strange buddies appeared, but also for me to start being presentable. It only got worse after I failed algebra. He pushed the role of being him more.

My father might not be the worst: He does gift me a lot of things, makes sure my room is clean and that I get transported to whatever place I want with whatever vehicle I want and buys me whatever I desire. But it’s a disguise, you see? Trying to cover up that I’m just a trophy. Just the predecessor. He wants me to favor and admire him so that I will be him one day. He doesn’t care about me like a dad cares about his son. We are no family”, his voice got quiet as he tried hiding his tears. I said nothing and decided to just embrace him. I felt him become weak in my arms and sob so touchingly, I almost cried with him.

 A few minutes passed before his crying became hiccups and eventually quieted down.

“I’m sorry”, I murmured, “I shouldn’t have brought this up”

“No”, he answered, his voice still veiled in a layer of sadness, “it felt good. I haven’t cried like this in years. Thank you”

“You’re welcome”, I softly spoke back. I was glad he had relieved himself of that sadness he had seemed to hold in. I also immediately felt that this had also been the thing to finally have us come closer.

 After that, we figured we watch something lighthearted to cheer us up again.

It was a rom com called ‘L.A. story’ we both found very amusing.

Though at some point, as the love story came to its highpoint, I noticed my mind drifting away into a side space in my brain, where suddenly the main characters were him and me.

 My cheeks reddened for the third time that day (I almost feared he’d think I got a fever) and I could swear I felt his hand in mine… wait.

Was that real?

My gaze travelled from the screen to my hand and really: His hand was in mine.

Was that an accident or intentional?

‘Screw it! It’s now or never’, I thought as I felt daring for once.

I inched closer and leaned onto his shoulder. My heart was racing a hundred miles per hour it seemed as I waited for what his reaction would be. At first, he got stiff, but then everything happened at once and it happened fast. He lifted his head to look at me and I looked back into his deep, dark brown eyes and in one motion he leaned in and… kissed me.

At first, I couldn’t believe it, I was frozen in place, but soon enough before it could get awkward for him, I leaned in as well. Though I decided to just stay put and let my lips feel his carefully: It was my first kiss after all, I didn’t want to ruin it by getting sloppy.

We staid like that for a couple of seconds before deciding to part.

 “You like me too?”, is the first thing I asked, amazed by what just happened.

“What are you talking about? I’ve liked you since I saw you! You are the one who likes me too”, he answered. My eyes first widened but then I couldn’t but laugh out loud.

“And I always thought I wasn’t your type”, I admitted flustered at his words.

“Really? You are a pretty, talented girl with a super nice personality and you didn’t think you were my type?”

“I mean, I always assumed you’d be more into the mermaid type”, at that he raised an eyebrow and let out a sigh with a single laugh

“You are mermaid enough for me y/n”, he said, cupping my face with his right hand, putting a hair strand behind my right ear, “you are better, even”

...

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 20: Moxiety

@tsshipmonth2020

(Yes this is out of order, but I figured I’d rather give you guys out of order content than no content at all. Hope that’s okay.)

Day 20 - You can send one item to your soulmate every year. 

Content warning: Christmas, food mentions, homophobic family members mentions, serious fluffiness.

Word count: 2.7k 

Songs mentioned in this fic: “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” and “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”. 

Patton’s eyes scanned over the letter, barely reading the words he’d read many times before. After the first time he’d gotten one, years ago, he’d re-read it so many times he’d committed it to memory.

Patton Hart,

You are receiving this notice to inform you that the annual soulmate item exchange is arriving. On December 24th, BEFORE MIDNIGHT, please bring your package to your nearest postal service or drop box, marked clearly with the provided adhesive label on the TOP. Item must be contained in the shipping box provided. Other boxes will not be accepted. If the drop off time is missed, your package will not be received. 

There was no signature, no return address, no number to call. At first, he’d been slightly suspicious, since everyone he asked had no further information than what was on the small letter, but after the first year, when a beautiful black and gold notebook and a matching pen had shown up on his doorstep on Christmas morning, he’d decided to heck with his worries. Despite his initial curiosity, he’d sent a gift anyways (if it was legitimate, he wasn’t about to leave his partner without a present!), a grey beanie that he’d stitched a small heart and message into. 

He giddily placed the letter back into the envelope and stuck it into the gap between the hallway mirror and the wall so he wouldn’t forget. Although, he doubted he would. He’d already bought a present, months ago, when his eyes fell upon a black and purple striped sweater in the window of the mall. The black thin stripes occasionally jumped, looking like the lines on a heart monitor, and it hooked him instantly. It was simplistic yet eye catching and unique, like the gifts Patton always received from his soulmate, so he immediately bought it and wrapped it as soon as he got home. He didn’t know his soulmate’s size, but you really can’t go wrong with an extra large (baggy sleeves are ideal, after all).

His time passed quickly, filled with movie nights with his roommate (who insisted on watching Nightmare before Christmas at least once a week) and trying new Christmas cookie recipes. It was his favorite holiday, with the songs and the decorations and the ever present smell of cinnamon in every store, so the moment they had passed Halloween, every moment was filled with his Christmas playlists and cheesy holiday sweaters. His family was coming to his place for their celebration this year, so the place was decked out with tinsel and little snowy villages, candles and fairy lights on every wall, and of course, their tree in the corner of the living room. It was going to be… amazing. 

He’d offered to take his roommate’s soulmate item along with him to the post office, seeing as he was uneasy in high crowd situations, and soulmate exchange days were always insanely busy. It had been the right move, too, because as soon as the office came into view, he could already see the crowd of people milling outside, trying to get into the small door. What could you expect, though, only giving people a twenty four hour window to all show up to the same spot? By the time he got inside and got both packages passed to the handler on the other side (an arduous process, since they had to check each gift thoroughly to ensure there were no cards or any other way to identify the sender), it was dark outside. All he wanted to do was curl up with some hot chocolate and watch the Grinch, as the two of them had planned. 

That’s what they did, falling asleep on the couch in the process. They were awoken in the morning by a knock at the door, Patton gently extracting himself from Virgil’s arms and turning off the TV, cringing that the cover screen of the movie had been on all night. The other mumbled in annoyance at his heat source disappearing and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“It’s too early.”

“Merry Christmas, Virge!” Patton shrieked, ignoring his roommate’s mock irritated snarl as he gave him a tight hug. “Let’s go get our gifts!”

Begrudgingly, Virgil followed him to the door that he flung open, revealing two small parcels on the step. The labels from the senders had been replaced with simple name tags, another way to ensure that their soulmates would not be traceable. The other houses on the block all had similar ones outside their doors, and the carrier was nowhere to be seen, as usual. He picked them both up, handing Virgil his, and running back into the kitchen to get scissors, pretty much vibrating with glee. 

“I’m making coffee first. You want some?” 

Patton hummed, looking between the gift before him and Virgil’s tired eyes. “This can wait. Let’s have coffee.”

Virgil was barely able to conceal with excitement at being chosen over a Christmas present by someone who was essentially an overgrown child, pulling out two mugs. He passed his package to Patton, who placed it beside his on the table, and shuffled around his roommate to start on breakfast.

“It’s Christmas. You’re going to eat breakfast for once,” Patton interrupted the moment Virgil started complaining, grinning widely when he finally agreed. 

“Do you ever wonder who your soulmate’s gonna be? What they’ll be like?” Virgil asked as he poured the coffee grounds, dangerously precise as always. The elder hummed.

“They’re your soulmate. So I guess, a perfect match to you. It’s not like they won’t like you or anything. That’s against the whole point!” An egg sizzled as it hit the pan, quickly followed by another.

“I guess,” He mumbled, clicking the on button on the machine. The smell of coffee quickly filled the small kitchen, “So when is your family getting here?”

“Around noon,” Patton chirped, flipping the first egg while simultaneously popping bread in the toaster with his other hand, “I like to cook, but my moms don’t trust me to make the main dish alone. My sisters are super excited to be old enough to help make food this year-- it’s so cute. But yeah, they should be here by noon.”

Virgil cracked a pained smile, watching the dripping coffee into the pot. “Okay. I’ll be out of your hair by then.”  

Patton’s hand froze in mid air, whipping around to his roommate. “Excuse me?”

“I said I’ll be gone by then,” Virgil repeated, looking down to play with the hem of his sweater, “Do you want me to leave earlier? I can if you want.” His voice very nearly cracked as he spoke, tone getting quieter with each word. Patton’s heart shattered.

“Why do you think I want you to leave?” He whispered, blindly shutting the stove off behind him so the eggs wouldn’t burn. The toast popping startled them both, but neither could find it in them to laugh as they usually would have. Virgil shrugged.

“I mean, your family’s coming over. I’m not family. And I know you were super excited for them to come over, and I don’t want to… ruin the vibe,” He shook his fingers in weak jazz hands, shooting a watery grin at Patton. “I was just planning to go to the mall or something. I think it’s open-” 

His words were silenced as Patton threw his arms around Virgil’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. It was no secret that Virgil didn’t get along well with his own family. That was the understatement of the year, really. Patton didn’t know the details, refused to pry, all he knew is that it had something to do with Virgil coming out to a pretty conservative family, an action that ended with him being split off from everyone. He had lost his little brother to his parents cutting contact, among other things, and Patton realized with a start that this was Virgil’s first Christmas without his family. 

In the single year they’d been roommates, the two had grown closer than any childhood friend Patton had kept throughout the years. Heck, he’d maybe consider them closer than he was with his moms, and that was saying a lot. For them to even fall asleep on the couch after a movie night, as they’d done last night, was a regular occurrence for them. They admitted secrets to each other they hadn’t fully admitted to themselves, about their own aromantic natures, about what that meant for soulmates, about what kind of pie was the best. Not all their conversations were deep.

“You are family, Virge,” Patton whispered, resting his chin on the other’s shoulder. “And unless you have a legitimate reason not to, you’re staying here. My family will love you, I swear,” He added quickly, knowing the other’s tendency to grow anxious around new people. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin-”

“I will physically fight you,” He hissed before the other could finish, pulling out of the hug with a soft kiss to his temple. “Stay. For me?”

“Fine,” Virgil rolled his eyes, turning away in fake annoyance to pour their coffee, “For you.” He had a reputation to uphold after all, and him nearly crying was not great for it.  

Just as they finished breakfast, Patton eyeing his present next to him with, again, startling resemblance to an excited child, there was a knock at the door. The roommates shared a confused glance, silently communicating that ‘no, I’m not expecting anyone’ before Patton got up to open it. He’d barely unlocked the latch when it burst open of its own accord, a loud shriek of “PATTY!” echoing through the small entryway.

“You guys are early!” Patton laughed as two small girls attempted to squeeze him to death around his torso, the pair having the same blond curls as Patton. 

“These two just couldn’t wait to see you,” A woman Virgil assumed to be one of Patton’s mother’s smiled, angling above the girls to give Patton a gentle hug which he eagerly returned. 

He quickly led them all inside, introducing a nearly shaking Virgil to his family. His other mom was carrying a box laden with uncooked food, and began to set it out in the small kitchen to begin preparing it. The girls, after a bit of hesitation, flocked to Virgil.

“Why’s your hair purple?” One asked, pulling herself onto Virgil’s lap. Her southern accent was just as strong as her moms’, reminding him of the accent Patton had slowly lost since moving in with him. It wasn’t gone all the way, just dimmed, but from the kitchen, he could hear his roommate talking to his moms animatedly, the accent back in all its glory. 

“I drank too much grape soda,” Virgil lamented, “When I was little, I couldn’t get enough of it. And then it turned my hair purple.” 

“No, it didn’t!” The girl leaning on his knee giggled.

“Are you saying I’m a liar?” He gasped, placing a hand over his heart, “How dare you!”

They both erupted into shrieking laughs, causing Patton to poke his head out of the kitchen. Virgil couldn’t help grinning widely at him as the second girl pulled herself onto his lap as well, causing Patton’s face to light up like the sun. 

“Did you know Christmas is my favorite holiday?” 

“Is it really? Why’s that?” Virgil asked, leaning back in his chair.

“It’s mine, too!”

“Nu uh, it’s only mine!”

“We can have the same favorite!”

“Nu uh!”

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

Patton collapsed back onto the couch, groaning loudly. The tree was the only light in the darkened living room, the air still warm and smelling like the dinner they’d enjoyed hours ago. It was quiet again, his family gone back home. He’d missed them immensely, but he’d forgotten how loud they could be. His feet shifted on the floor, rustling the wrapping paper left over by his hurricane twin sisters; a mess he’d clean up tomorrow. Footsteps approached from down the hall, signalling his roommates arrival, and the speaker on the mantle started to quietly play “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas”, Frank Sinatra’s soft voice drifting through the air.

“I’m so full,” He groaned again, resting his head on the back of the couch.

“Mood,” Virgil said, dropping next to him. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Virgil was just as tired as him. Tired, in the best way possible. 

“You’re really good with kids,” Patton noted with a smile. 

“Tell anyone and they’ll never find your body,” He deadpanned and Patton snorted, before he continued, “They’re the same age as my brother.”

“Oh,” He whispered, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, surprisingly. I miss him. A lot. But this was the best Christmas I’ve probably ever had. No homophobic family members, no shouting matches, just… family. It was nice.”

“Hard to be homophobic when you have two moms,” Patton joked, relieved that Virgil snickered. 

���Probably would be, yeah.”

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,

With every Christmas card I write,

May your days be merry and bright,

And may all your Christmas’ be white.

They sat in comfortable silence for a bit, relishing in the silence of the house. The tree sparkled, lighting up the blank walls in rainbow hues, their conglomerate mix of thrift store ornaments shifting and reflecting the light. People shouted outside, joyful noises, and kids laughed, their neighbors wrapping up their own holiday celebration.

Patton opened his eyes as he felt something placed on his lap, looking down in confusion before grinning.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot!”

Virgil smiled sheepishly, shifting his own box between his hands. “I put them into my room when your family showed up.”

“Smart move. The twins would have torn them open.” Patton dropped off the couch onto the floor, sitting cross legged and shaking with anticipation. With a laugh, Virgil joined him when he gestured to the floor in front of him. He reached up and took his keys from the mantle, slicing open the duct tape on his box before handing it to Patton to do the same.

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, 

Like the ones I used to know, 

Where the treetops glisten and children listen, 

To hear sleigh bells in the snow

They opened their boxes in unison, Patton gasping when he saw the item in his. He pulled out the large, black fuzzy blanket, blue paw prints the size of Patton’s palm decorating the surface. A high pitched squeal burst from his lips as he squished the blanket to his chest, shoving his face in the soft fabric. 

“Virgil, look! Isn’t it-”

His words caught in his throat at the expression on Virgil’s face; one of absolute shock. He was clutching his gift in white knuckles, and Patton’s mouth went dry when he caught the distinct black heart-beat-esque lines on the purple sweater. 

“Oh,” Patton whispered, both of them frozen, looking at the gift they’d bought in the other’s arms. “Oh!”

“You’re my soulmate!” They both stated at the same time, breaking off into giggles.

“I guess so,” Virgil gasped, smiling as Patton pretty much leapt into his arms, trying to maneuver his hands around the other’s shoulders while still clutching the black blanket. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so relieved! You’re aro and I’m aro and it’s not going to be awkward with someone else, and I don’t have to explain and oh my gosh this is so fantastic!” 

They both dissolved into another laughing fit, Virgil finally able to wind his arms around the other and pulling him closer. The end of the song slowly dwindled down as they both untangled themselves, unable to stop grinning. There was a moment of silence in the room as Virgil picked up a shrieking Patton and dropped him onto the couch, their sides sore from laughter, and essentially settled on top of him.

“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” filled the room with soft violin swings as the two fell into a blissful sleep, wrapped in their respective gifts, more at peace than they’d been in… who knows how long.

[franstastic-ideas]

Present Day, Present Time

Undertale - A few months after the barrier is broken, on Christmas day, Frisk gifts Sans with the Reset button as a sign of trust and goodwill between them, telling him it’s his now: to use, to keep, or to destroy. It’s his power now. It may be the best gift Sans has ever received. Sans finally feels like he can move forward.

And he can feel in his SOUL that he wants to move forward with Frisk.

Word Count: 20,603

@nuvex Surprise! I was your Secret Santa for the Gyftmas event! I’n so, so, SO sorry about the long, loooooong, delay! *hysterical sobbing*

Also, this counts as the season prompt for Fransweek, doesn’t it?

Credits for OCs go to @koiikun for Peter and Charlotte, @semisolidmind for Irene, Edgar and Elizabeth, @undertalepre2re for Daddy Longlegs, @eddieveneziano for Spinerette, and @lostmypotatoes for Ku-Mo

Webber and Julian belong to me.

Even prior to the breaking of the barrier, there were an immense number of things that Frisk wanted to experience alongside her monster friends after reaching the surface.

 Going on picnics in the spring, trips to the beach during the summer, jumping in piles of leaves when autumn arrived, and playing in the snow when winter came, organizing ladies’ nights and sleepovers with the girls, celebrating one another’s birthdays...

 But what she looked forward to most was spending Gyftmas with them.

 As it turned out, the monsters celebrated their own wintertime holiday comparable to the surface world’s Christmas, or Hanukkah, or sometimes Kwanza. She had learned of this during her stay in Snowdin Town, a little village located in the snowy section of the Underground that was decorated as though the inhabitants celebrated Gyftmas every day. It was just September when she had first traversed into the town, but all the preparations for the occasion had already been made, completed by a towering tree adorned with an assortment of ornaments that served as the location’s centerpiece, along with plentiful piles of presents lying underneath bearing tags with the names of all the monsters who lived there.

 She supposed even monsterkind wasn’t immune to the widespread seasonal phenomenon commonly referred to as ‘the Christmas creep’.

 Frisk had fallen victim to it as well. The very instant that Sans, Papyrus, and then Undyne, followed by the rest of her new pals did the jimpity jumpity joodle, the limpity loppity leap (as her fishy friend would say) directly into her heart, her mind instantly began to drift towards thoughts of what she was going to give each of them when the month of December arrived. Though she certainly didn’t have much concerning funds at the time, Frisk was still a generous person by nature – there was little that made her happier than watching the expression of wonder and then delight that crossed the recipient’s face as they unwrapped and unboxed their gift.

 Surface or no surface, Frisk was determined to spend the holiday season with her friends, even if it meant plunging into the depths of the Underground a second time with a fully loaded sack of presents slung over her shoulder to do so. Thankfully, it never came to that – with the assistance of Prince Asriel, the six SOULs of the previous fallen humans, and the added SOULS of every single monster in the Underground, the barrier was finally broken for good, so she and everyone else could reach the surface and get to celebrate their first Gyftmas above ground.

 Yes, even Flowey – as much as he denied it, she knew that much of Asriel was still hiding behind the sour personality of that foul flower.

 She wasn’t about to let one rotten apple hinder her or himself from enjoying a slice of the warm apple pie that was the wholesome found-family Gyftmas gathering she was doing her best to serve everyone.

 Sans hadn’t exactly been thrilled with the idea of him partaking in the festivities, even though Frisk had thought that he shouldn’t even remember who Flowey was. She supposed that the negative impressions Flowey left on him in the RESETs of the past, prior to her gaining the power to turn back time from her floral friend, had somehow left a permanent imprint on the skeleton; similar to how Toriel inexplicably recalled that she preferred cinnamon over butterscotch, along with a plethora of other phantom memories the monsters she closely interacted with experienced throughout the courses of her subterranean adventure.

 Flowey had been extremely reluctant to leave his previous spot in the empty Underground. He had stayed behind by choice, after all. However, the frequent offers she made during her continuous visits eventually wore him down, and he said he would go with her under one stipulation – that his true identity remained a secret between the two of them. She agreed to his terms, and Flowey allowed her to take him to the surface to join the rest of her companions – he even willingly climbed into the flowerpot she bought and brought just for him!

 Frisk and Toriel shared dual custody of him - the kind goat lady apparently saw the good inside him that he so desperately tried to pretend didn’t exist, and decided to welcome him into her home whenever he wished to visit. Flowey unexpectedly took her up on the invitation, showing minimal resistance to the idea before accepting. Perhaps he missed his mother more than he initially thought.

 This is what Frisk believed, and not without good reason. One Sunday afternoon just a few weeks ago, the queen of monsters invited the two over for tea and cookies. Everything had been relatively peaceful, nothing out of the ordinary – all until Toriel had wordlessly placed another one of the sweets on Flowey’s plate, unprompted.

 The words ‘Thank you, mama’ had instinctively escaped his mouth before he could stop them. Toriel was touched at hearing that, no matter how accidental it may have been, feeling as though the usually bad-tempered little flower had finally warmed up to her.

 But for him, it was excruciatingly painful. He was dead silent for the rest of the time spent in her company and swiftly requested to go home with Frisk once they finished their snacks. The sweet goat lady saw nothing wrong with his behavior, simply assuming that his little slip of the tongue had embarrassed him.

 In actuality, the very instant Frisk stepped into her own home and locked the door behind them, Flowey had burst into a hysterical fit of tears, sobbing as he whispered ‘mama’ under his breath, over and over again before crying out, ‘I miss my mama!’.

 After he had calmed down considerably, Frisk never once leaving his side the whole while, he once again asserted that he wasn’t going to tell Toriel or Asgore the truth. However, Flowey then said afterwards that, perhaps one day, he may. Just not now. He wasn’t ready yet, and he doubted they were either.

 Frisk had been nothing but supportive, assuring Flowey that it was fine for him to take as long as he needed in sorting out his feelings towards the matter, to which he again stated as he so often had in the past that he had no feelings left anymore. That was a lie. A lie that the both of them obviously knew wasn’t true.

 Someone with no emotions inside them wouldn’t show visible delight when biting into homemade cookies and pie, nor would they shriek with blatant terror when startled by a cheap jumpscare tactic in a poorly made horror flick during movie night every other Friday, or display signs of what could only be described as intense jealousy when their best and only friend is constantly being ‘stolen away’, from their perspective, by a lazy, ketchup-chugging, pun-spewing bag of bones.

 Someone with nothing left to feel wouldn’t wail for his mother during a rare moment of vulnerability.

 Frisk wholeheartedly enjoyed each and every second she spent in Flowey’s presence, much to the actually rather understandable perplexity of some of her other friends. She could state countless reasons as to why she would feel this way, but one of them was; hearing the sound of his voice made this big house of hers feel less empty.

 Several weeks after gaining the official position of ambassador of monsterkind, Frisk had woken up to the unexpected surprise of receiving an expensive estate in a basically brand-new neighborhood. It was undoubtedly worth thousands, maybe even millions, and just staring at it made her feel as though she were glimpsing into a luxurious world she didn’t and never would belong in. She wanted to gently decline the deed, feeling as though she did nothing to deserve it, but as if anticipating this sort of response, the agent who escorted her to the place informed her that the fully-furnished house and the plot of land it stood on was meant to be a gift; purchased with the gold of not only the king and queen, but the funds of each and every single freed monster. They had unanimously come to the agreement to band together in a collective effort to provide her a better home than the one she had lived in prior.

 To turn down such a thoughtful gesture after so much preparation had gone into even making it possible, such a thing would have been incomparably rude to do.

 A few months later, and Frisk was still unsure of how they learned of her whereabouts, a dingy old apartment building several towns over located directly in the middle of an unsafe precinct where robberies and other crimes were regularly reported. But someone had discovered her secret, despite her dedicated efforts at dodging their numerous questions concerning the subject.

 There had been a few occasions back then where, when returning from one of her hangouts with her monster friends, Frisk felt a similar sensation to being followed. She never did catch a glance at her pursuer during those times, but she supposed it didn’t really matter – not once did she ever feel as though she were in any danger when sensing the presence of this other person. Quite the opposite, in fact, as utterly insane as she knew it may have sounded.

 Frisk chose not to mention the fact that she may or may not have been dealing with a mysterious stalker to her friends, since she had already worried them enough when they found out where she lived. What followed came countless offers for her to stay the night or even a few days in one of their residences, to which she always attempted to decline, not wanting to impose on her friends. But some of them, like Undyne, Toriel, Muffet, and unpredictably Sans, of all monsters, would not take ‘no’ for an answer. All of them felt as though they could finally put their fears to rest when she stepped out of that building that looked as though it were falling apart at the seams for the last time, and into her safe and cozy new home they had so lovingly furnished for the first.

 Sans had surprisingly been the one to accompany her then, assisting her in gathering up what little belongings she owned to transport them to the house awaiting her. The reason why it had shocked her so much at the time was, the smiley skeleton was well renown as having a laid-back, lax nature; or as Undyne, his brother, and several regulars at Grillby’s would word it – lazy.

 But that day, something about the skeleton she thought she knew was deadly serious. His expression seemed to frequently bounce between anticipation and dread, happily helping her with shoving clothes and other accessories into suitcases while also glancing around the area every few minutes with a chilling glare, as if daring some unseen enemy to reveal themselves to him. Even he had breathed a sigh of relief that day, once the task was done and over with.

 And not long after that, Sans and Papyrus had managed to acquire an abode of their own as well – directly next to hers.

 She had thought that with a vast new world to explore, all the monsters she had met and come to know would have eventually scattered across the globe as soon as the opportunity arose. And some of them did, but not any of her closest friends she had made on her adventure - they had decided to take up residence in this town, not ten miles away from the mountain they were imprisoned within. And even the ones that went elsewhere would eventually wander back on occasion, if only to say ‘hello’.

 It didn’t make much sense to her, but when Frisk finally summoned the nerve to ask, all of them gave her the exact same answer,

 “We just wanted to be close to you.”

 And this claim of theirs must have been true, because when the time came for her to send out the Gyftmas party invitations, every single monster responded with a guarantee in some manner or another that they would be there.

 But could she actually manage to squeeze the entirety of the monster population and then some under one roof, specifically hers?

 Frisk was about to find out.

 Some of them jokingly warned her when they discovered just how long the guest list was supposed to be that she was definitely going to regret this, that a celebration this grand scale was bound to bring the house down in the most literal definition imaginable (thanks, Sans). She held no doubts that the party was going to be chaotic, but she sincerely believed that what was to come would be a chaos of the beautiful sort.

 This being proven to be correct was all that she really wanted for Gyftmas.

 Even after telling them this, they were still going well out of their way to get her some sort of present for the festivity. Frisk believed the lavish house was enough to compensate for every single Gyftmas, birthday, and any other holiday that would come to pass for the remainder of her life, but no, the monsters demonstrated they could be just as determined as she was when it came to expressing their gratitude towards her for everything the human girl had done for them, in and out of the Underground.

 Apparently, Undyne and Mettaton were even going so far as making some sort of competition out of who could give Frisk the best gift, and it was also apparently growing more and more intense between them each day as the date of the party approached. She hoped they didn’t expect her to play the role of judge in this silly contest of theirs, because she couldn’t possibly do that, ever – Frisk was certain that she would love both their gifts with equal enthusiasm. She additionally hoped they hadn’t gone overboard with the holiday shopping in their quest of earning her approval, because the two were well known to be mercilessly competitive and had a history of overspending according to their own friends and relatives.

 Mettaton may be able to flaunt and throw around all the wealth that came from being a sensational star whenever he pleases, but that still doesn’t mean that he should, and Frisk felt that Undyne really needed to start investing her earnings in an emergency fund of some sort, because she’s already almost burned her house to a crisp while cooking a grand total of eight times since finding a place to live on the surface.

 She’s going to need that money when the time eventually comes that Undyne does reduce it down to nothing more than smoking splinters and the very foundation it stands upon in one gigantic fiery explosion, and it was becoming more and more clear to Frisk that the fish woman’s house regularly being engulfed in flames was just one of those inevitable aspects of life that refused to change, in spite of her attempts...

 That’s why after the second time it happened, Frisk jumped for getting the local and friendly fire department’s number on speed dial on both their phones. Undyne and the entire force were practically on a first name basis with each other at this point.

 But Undyne refrained from ever cooking at other people’s houses, even when it was requested of her by some incredibly brave or very foolish SOUL with nothing to lose; she only did so at her own. That’s probably what upset Frisk the most – she was actively aware that her ventures in the culinary world were deadly in dual senses, and yet that didn’t seem to stop her in the slightest when it came to pursuing her passion. Frisk supposed there was something admirable to be found in that, somewhere...

 And while it appeared that Undyne’s skills in the kitchen were getting worse and worse, Papyrus’s were only getting better, even without any comparison needed.

 He improved so much, in fact, that Frisk asked him if he would like to be one of the head chefs in providing catering for her guests at the upcoming party, alongside Grillby, Muffet, and Toriel. He gratefully accepted the position with tears flowing from his sockets like geysers, picking her up in one swift motion and swinging her around and around until it nearly made her stomach turn. He promised her that this would be the best Gyftmas dinner she’s ever had, to which she reminded him that this would be the first Gyftmas dinner she’s ever had. If anything, this only spurred Papyrus to put even more passion into his own culinary studies, so his cuisines would be guaranteed to leave a good impression on her human taste buds.

 Gyftmas, Christmas – though the two holidays were relatively the same in spirit, what Frisk had told him was not lacking in truth...

 Even long before the date of their wintertime gathering, there was still plenty to do. She began her search for gifts almost as soon as the barrier had been broken, but the preparations for the gradually approaching party had commenced as briskly as the day after Halloween. Of course, there was also Thanksgiving to think about then; they came together at that time as well, at Toriel’s house, but the number of those attending had been much smaller than the total count that was to be present at Frisk’s party, since many monsters had chosen to celebrate the occasion with their respective families.

 That was why the sheer amount of replies that she received in respondence to the invitations astounded her as much as it did.

 But when the 25th finally came, Frisk couldn’t have been more pleased by the nothing short of massive turnout.

 The guests began arriving as early as seven in the morning. The event didn’t even officially start until nine, but some of them had showed up early because they wanted an opportunity to talk with their beloved ambassador a bit before the celebration became too crowded and hectic to anymore.

 She had woken up a few minutes after six that morning for some last-minute arrangements when Frisk spotted a familiar round skeletal face in the window of the house immediately across from her own. Hers and Sans’s bedrooms faced one another, the space between them not ten feet apart, and the two had carried out entire conversations from their respective windowsills before – fairly often, in truth.

 Such a conversation occurred on the dawn of that special snowy morning, surprisingly. Frisk would have been willing to bet that she wouldn’t be seeing him around until after the start of the party a few hours later.

 He grinned and tapped on the surface of the frosted and fogged over glass in swift succession with a single phalange before opening his window, silently urging her to do the same with her own. She did so, a gust of cool wintery air flowing into the room, and spoke the first thing that came to mind.

 “You’re up unexpectedly early today.”

 “paps got me up and out of bed as soon as he realized the hours were in the a.m. and the date had changed.” Sans yawned, just barely managing to cover his mouth, then added, “and that was almost a few minutes after midnight, but about a whole gallon of warm milk later, and i got him to go back to sleep. honestly, that was probably the real gyftmas miracle – as beat as paps was, he denied it to the bitter end and tried to fight off the sleepies to his last ‘nyeh’.”

 “That definitely sounds like something he would do.” The mental image of Papyrus suddenly yanking the shorter skeleton off his mattress and dragging Sans behind him down the stairs to the living room in the middle of the night was worth a chuckle, as exhausted as she knew Sans must be right now. “Was he trying to catch a peep at ‘Santa’ in action? Or should I say, ‘Sansta’?”

 “nah. he hasn’t tried to capture santa since we were pretty much babybones.” He gave a sleepy chuckle.

 “...Capture? ...Santa?” She uttered inquisitively with an arched eyebrow, but he didn’t provide her with any more details on that bizarre little response.

 “gyftmas eve is the one night a year that paps makes an honest effort to go to bed early and get some real sleep, ‘cause he’s worried that santa will pass our house up if he doesn’t. but his excitement, his insomnia, and the anxiety over what he thinks will happen if he isn’t sleeping ironically keeps him awake. we go through this every year. i already mentioned the milk, but it took a whole pile and a few hours of bedtime stories to knock him out this one, though.”

 “You’re probably already aware of this, Sans, but... you look really tired.” The dark circles under his sockets were a few shades darker, more prominent than usual, and as she said this, another long, deep yawn escaped his gaping maw. “You know, you could go back to bed and get some sleep yourself and just show up a while later, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t be disappointed with you if you decided to do that, really.”

 “nah, nah. don’t worry about it. i’ll be fine, just fine, kid. the both of us ‘ll be there when we’re supposed to. actually, expect to see us at least half an hour earlier, since you know how paps likes to show up anywhere he goes fashionably ahead of time. my bro’s such a trendsetter... he’s light years ahead of the rest of us.” He waved off her concerns with a grin that appeared far happier and less weary than it probably should, but was unexpectedly followed by a pensive frown.

 Sans grew silent and remained so for several passing moments; so silent that it began to make Frisk feel uncomfortable.

 He always made a point of looking at the person he was speaking to, but he wasn’t doing that now. His attention wasn’t on her anymore – it was on practically everything but her, and that worrying little frown on his face only heightened the sense of concern that was washing over Frisk in waves after seeing it.

 “...Sans? Is something wrong...?” She asked, a twinge of distress discernible in her quiet tone of voice.

 She had to repeat herself twice before he would answer her.

 “it’s just... about the party...” His front teeth gnawed on the bottom of his mouth, seeming only more perturbed as the seconds slowly passed by before another grin, wide and gleeful, almost to the extent of being manic, broke across his skull just as suddenly as the grimace had.

 “i was just thinking about how loooong the drive’s gonna be to get there... it’ll be so long, i might actually get a full nine hours sleep on the way there.” He accomplished getting through the first two sentences with only a few snorts interspersed into his speech, but he was really struggling not to laugh through the second half - and by the tail end of the third sentence, he was failing miserably. “i mean, i think you have the right to live wherever it is you want, but why’d you have to go and move so far off, frisk? do you not want to see your ‘ol pal sansy as often anymore, is that it?”

 “Sans, our houses are literally less than ten feet apart.” She giggled uncontrollably; his laughter was potently contagious.

 “but it feels so far away in my SOUL!” He cried out dramatically, clutching the front of his shirt directly at the area of his chest as he fell to the carpet, on his knees.

 “We’re talking to each other face to face from our windows! How much closer do you want us to be?!”

 “until it’s impossible for us to get any closer.” He replied without a beat, his laughter dying down to a nervous chuckle as a soft blue blush slowly spread across his face.

 “Wh-What...?” She stuttered dumbly.

 “what?” He parroted immediately after; so immediate that Frisk was almost certain that she must have misheard or imagined what had preceded.

 “...Sans, you goob. You really fooled me into thinking there was something horribly wrong! What you just did wasn’t in the Gyftmas spirit, Sans!”

 “ok, ok, yeah, now that i think about it, that really was kinda mean of me.” He scratched the back of his skull with an awkward sheepish smile, at least having the decency to look ashamed of himself. “...but it still made you laugh, though.”

 “...Okay, I will admit that it was actually pretty funny... Especially that whole thing you do where you grossly exaggerate how far apart our houses are, despite us being next-door neighbors and all...” Frisk then made the valiant effort to appear stern in front of him. “But anymore jokes like that one today, and you’ll leave me with no choice but to take away your present privileges.”

 “you... you got me something?” His droopy sockets widened, and the white spheres that served as his pupils enlarged to the extent that they almost looked like twin moons, his reaction all but suggesting that he was truly taken aback by the thought.

 “Of course I did. Undyne may be my bestie, but you’re my bestest buddy.” She stated sincerely, but then smirked, a wicked idea manifesting without any warning. “Prepare yourself, because it’s on it’s way!”

 “you didn’t have to get me anything, frisk...” That’s what he said, but he wasn’t exactly doing an excellent job at hiding his inner giddiness – it almost made her feel bad for what she was about to do. “...wait? you’re giving it to me now?”

 “Yep! Whether you choose to close your eyes or not is up to you.”

 “...‘kay. i’ll keep ‘em closed, since i think that’s what you want me to do. sansy ‘ll play along with the surprise, kiddo.” His sockets shut, but not a second later he cracked one open. “...you better not be about to throw a snowball at my face though, ‘cause that’s a declaration of war where i come from.”

 “It’s not a snowball, so don’t worry.”

 And it really wasn’t a snowball. But he was about to get a face full of something.

 Frisk walked over to her nightstand to grab Sans’s present, unwrapped. She had meant to wrap it along with the rest of his gift, but this one had become misplaced, and thus it escaped getting packaged at the time. It was something small, in both size and value, but she was told by Toriel that Sans would appreciate it nonetheless.

 It was time to test if that claim was true.

 She stood in front of the window, taking in the sight of Sans standing there, his sockets closed and looking as though he were mere seconds away from actually falling asleep in that very spot while standing up. He was definitely nodding off though – it was time for a little wakeup call!

 “Here it comes!” She yelled happily, hurling the object she held in her hand with all her might out the window; it sailed through the chilly air and the snow, crossing the few feet’s distance between them and towards him at top speed.

 Her sudden shout caused his sockets to snap open, just at the exact right moment for whatever it was she had thrown to pelt him directly in the face.

 “buh?!” He nearly spluttered in surprise.

 It took a few more moments, as he was still somewhat paralyzed from the shock of it all, but as soon as he regained his bearings, Sans peeled off the offending object covering his eyes; it had felt soft when it collided with his skull, and he discovered that what struck him was in fact a pair of socks.

 But not just any pair of socks. No, this particular pair was colored a dark gray, and that itself wasn’t too special, but on them he found images of little cheeseburgers scattered across the fabric. Something red was also oozing out from underneath the top buns of the patties, which was obviously meant to be ketchup. They looked just as though Grillby had decided to design clothing themed around his restaurant’s menu on the side, and Sans was loving it.

 “these... these are amazing!”

 Frisk knew that he would like them, but she never once thought that Sans, or anyone for that matter, would be so overjoyed to receive a pair of socks as a gift, especially as a Gyftmas present.

 He was so pleased with them that he began kicking off his slippers posthaste and sat down on his bedroom floor to put them on. It was while he was doing this that Frisk took the opportunity to actually look at him, specifically his body, and even more specifically, his feet.

 They... didn’t look like an actual skeleton’s feet. An actual skeleton as in a human skeleton, that is; which was nothing unusual or out of the ordinary at all for him, she had learned far prior to this point, really. She had been around him and Papyrus for so long now that she didn’t really question what they could do or shouldn’t be able to do as skeletons, but still, these aspects were no less jarring to her when she thought about it for longer than a few seconds.

 His feet looked less skeletal, as contrary as that was, and more like a person’s with all the skin and the meat underneath still attached. The only thing even remotely skeletal about them was the fact that they were made out of bone. She wondered if his hands were also similar in shape. They were always out of sight, since he kept them covered with gloves or mittens or had them shoved in the pockets of his shorts or hoodie, so Frisk had never seen them before.

 He must have caught her in the act of staring, because a few more moments of ogling later and she noticed he was grinning slyly in her direction.

 “getting enough of an eyeful over there?” Sans asked with a wiggle of his eyebone(?), striking what one could consider to be a provocative pose as he slowly pulled the sock up and over his heel, never breaking eye contact with her as he did so.

 “Oh, hush.” Her cheeks were turning a deep, flushed red, and it had nothing to do with the frigid air surrounding and flooding in through the wide-open window.

 “...sweet mother of asgore!” Sans all of a sudden wheezed, startling her before he replied, nearly sobbing in his laughter as he pointed to his leg, “they’re kneesocks!”

 “Kneesocks?!”

 “you didn’t know?!”

 “No!” Frisk insisted, then added embarrassedly, “...I guess I was so absorbed in the print that I didn’t pay attention to what kind they were when I bought them. I’m sorry.”

 “don’t apologize – these are great.” Sans said as he eagerly tugged the other one up the length of his leg up to his patella.

 “Sans the skeleton from Snowdin, you aren’t seriously going to wear those, are you?” She inquired with blatant disbelief evident in her expression and tone.

 “you bet your burger i am. i’m gonna wear them at the party, and i’m patella-ing everyone that’ll listen where i got ‘em from.”

 “Sans, why...?” She half-groaned, half-giggled to herself.

 They shared a few more bad laughs together before a knock at the door interrupted them.

 “sounds like the early birds are already dropping in.” Sans remarked as he leaned out the window, peering down below to see a few monsters waiting at Frisk’s front door. “paps is gonna be disappointed that he wasn’t the first to show up.”

 “Tell him he’ll always come first place in my heart.” Frisk chuckled, already imagining the somewhat pouty expression on the taller skeleton’s face when he saw the other guests had beaten him to the Gyftmas punch, quite literally.

 “heh, he’ll appreciate that. hey, just wanted to let you know, he an’ i got most of the cooking done last night before bed, and he’s finishing up the final touches on his part of the spread right now. it’ll be more than a bit of a pain in the tailbone to carry it all in a few dishes per trip, so...” He lifted a single phalange, the tip of it glowing a bright blue along with his left eye. “...i might have to put in some actual effort to pull this off.”

 “Ohhh...! Sans is busting out the scary cyan magic eye!” She gasped, clapping her hands with delight. “And all for me and the sake of the party! I’m actually gonna see you use some magic!”

 “you act like it’s such a big deal...” He scratched the back of his skull again, turning to the side so hopefully she wouldn’t notice the blush matching the color of his magic blooming in his cheeks.

 Another knock interrupted their talk, much louder and more persistent than prior.

 “...I better go answer that.”

 “‘kay. see ya in a bit, kiddo.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 Just a few hours later, and the party had already gone into full swing. The house was packed with guests at every turn, and it would only grow fuller as the day went on. Frisk fully expected the celebration to continue well into the late hours of the night, and she was more than alright with this.

 She had received plenty of promises from certain higher profile monsters that they would be attending; the presence of Toriel and Asgore hadn’t surprised her in the slightest, despite their busy schedules that didn’t let up even during the holidays. But Mettaton? Frisk was quite honestly astonished when she saw the modelesque robot strut through the front door and directly into her living room wearing a long faux-fur coat and high-heeled snow boots, even though he shouldn’t be able to feel the frigid temperatures outside.

 “Mettaton?!” She openly expressed her shock.

 “The one and only.” He lowered his sunglasses, which were entirely inappropriate for this sort of snowy weather, and winked.

 “I... I didn’t think you would make it.”

 “I wouldn’t miss your little soirée for the world, darling!” He threw up his arms to sweep her into an unprecedented embrace. “Although... it was exceedingly difficult. It’s fortunate that you sent out the invitations in advance as you did, otherwise my fabulous self being present today would have been nothing short of impossible. Being a surface world star is glamorous and all, but... some of the producers I work with really do know how to get my gears grinding!”

 “Well, I really am happy to see you here in person, Mettaton, and not on the television as expected.” She eagerly returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around his cold metallic body. “I know that I’m yours and everybody else’s ambassador, but I still can’t even begin to imagine how taxing your career can be sometimes. But remember that today is all about relaxing and spending time with the ones you love. Get some well-deserved rest for the moment and fill the Mettaton-shaped hole in our Mettaton-shaped hearts.”

 “That’s right... That’s exactly what I came here today to do. To catch up with everyone else and hear what’s happening in their own lives, while mine’s been spent under the spotlight so much lately. I can’t afford to make the same mistake as I did last time...” His head whipped around the room as if searching for something, or rather someone. “Blooky? Will Blooky be arriving soon? Are they even coming?!”

 “Don’t get your circuits in a twist just yet. Blooky’s already here – go look over in the corner of the other living room, where the music player is. I asked them to DJ for me today with the holiday compositions they compiled just for the occasion.”

 Mettaton paused in his dramatics to listen, recognizing with apparent fondness in his features the soft tune that floated through the air well – ‘Ghouliday’, one of the first songs the cousins had wrote together when the two simultaneously became interested in music several years ago.

 “That song of ours... it feels just like home...” He then took off in a sprint into the next room over, his arms waving around almost like limp noodles in a strong wind as he charged towards the ghost with the express purpose of defying all logic and laws of physics to wrap his beloved cousin in a hug. “BLOOKY! I missed you sooooo MUH-HUH-UUUUCH!!!”

 “Waitwaitwaitwait!” She heard Napstablook utter as urgently as their soft voice would allow. “I’m holding punch!”

 There was the sound of a crash, several people screaming and glass breaking, followed by a short beat before Mettaton timidly and uncharacteristically squeaked,

 “...I’ll clean that up!”

 So the party was going great.

 The pile of presents underneath the tree was growing bigger and bigger with each additional guest that attended the Gyftmas gathering. A grand assortment of names were jotted down on the tags, but Frisk probably shouldn’t have been as taken aback as she was to find that a good number of them were addressed to her.

 A scaly hand suddenly clapping over her shoulder brought the girl out of her thoughts and caused her to shriek in alarm.

 “WHOA, hey!” Undyne retracted her hand as if she had been burnt, holding both of them up in a defensive stance. “Didn’t mean to scare ya like that, Frisk. ...You were looking a little spaced out there, so I thought I’d check up on ya.”

 “Sorry for reacting like that. I was just thinking to myself... Looking at all these presents here, and so many of them for me, it made me realize how many friends I have now.”

 “I still can’t believe you’re trying to fit basically the entire Underground under one roof... and YOUR roof! You had to of known that’s a disaster just waiting to happen. And to go ahead and do it anyway despite that, well, that takes some real guts, punk!”

 “Mettaton said that he was going to clean up the mess he made, and I believe him.”

 “Wait, what?” She blinked before letting out a cackle. “You mean the ol’ tin can’s already broke something?! I take it back – you’re either fearless, or just plain NUTS for even trying to pull this off! But hey, no matter how it goes, this is gonna be something for us all to remember and laugh about later!”

 Her wide toothy grin then turned into a deep frown.

 “...Seeing everybody here, with smiles on their faces, just happy to be alive and in each other’s company; it makes me feel kinda bad.”

 “Why?” Frisk inquired, incredulous. “Why would what’s supposed to be the most wonderful day of the year make you feel that way? I mean, I’m sure you have your reasons, but you seemed pretty fired up about today before...”

 “Well, I feel guilty.” Undyne averted her gaze and tugged at her scarf absentmindedly. “Back when I first met you, I hated you and every other human; because I thought you hated us. And then, well, you and I, we ended up becoming besties! But... it’s moments like these, where we’re all together just having a good time here on the surface with you that makes me remember... what a horrible mistake I almost made.”

 “Undyne, it’s all behind us.” Frisk reassured her, reaching up to place her own hand over her towering fishy friend’s shoulder with some struggling before settling on simply patting the sleeve of her arm. “You shouldn’t be thinking about that anymore – especially not today, of all days.”

 “Yeah, you keep saying that, but... sometimes I still feel pretty lousy about it.” She wrapped Frisk into a tight, almost suffocating one-armed hug accompanied by an aggressive noogie. “I couldn’t have been more wrong then! I thought you were gonna destroy us all, and that I needed to protect everybody from you. But the truth was, what I needed to be doing was protecting YOU! You really are just like Papyrus sometimes - too darn NICE for your own good!”

 “Oww! I appreciate the sentiments, but please don’t noogie the human!”

 “See? That sounds JUST LIKE something he would say!”

 “That’s because he did say it before. You know, that one time over the phone?”

 “Oh yeah, he did, didn’t he?” Undyne ceased her relentless grinding of the knuckles against Frisk’s head for the moment to ponder and reminisce. “Ya know, sometimes that whole adventure you had Underground with us feels like it happened ages ago, and other times like it was just last week. Time is funny like that. ...Oh man. I’m starting to sound just like that old coot Gerson!”

 “Stay with us, Undyne! You can’t go slipping away from us just yet!” Frisk teased, laughing at her mortified expression. “You’re still too young for the rocking chair and recollecting of yesteryears!”

 “You’re right! I’ve gotta stop blathering on and on about what happened yesterday and focus on what’s happening TODAY! Make some new memories, YEAH!” A few nearby monsters turned her way, but otherwise her exclamation didn’t receive too much fanfare. “Hey, is Alphys here yet? I want her to open up my Gyftmas present to her ASAP!”

 “No, she hasn’t gotten here just yet, but she did text me a few minutes ago saying she was on her way.” Undyne shuffled and stomped in place impatiently at this. “Oh, oh! You want to know what I got her?”

 “Uh, yeah!” She enthusiastically exclaimed. “...Does it have anything to do with Mew Mew Kissy Cutie, though?”

 “Actually, it does!”

 “Aw, PLEASE don’t tell me we ended up getting her the exact same thing!”

 “What did you get her, Undyne?” Frisk inquired, confident that her friend’s assumption was incorrect, but a sliver of nervousness was still present in her question.

 “Well, you know how most of the anime out there is usually based off of those Japanese books with all the pictures in them that you gotta read backwards to understand anything that’s going on? Uh, I think they’re called mangoes? Manhwas? Maybe it was mandalas? No, wait, that still doesn’t sound right...” Before Frisk could correct her, she had already moved on. “Well anyway, she’s got some DVDs of the anime, but none of the books. So I did a lot of scouting on your human internet and found the whole set. But finding all of them together isn’t what took me so long, no – this set is special. They’re all signed. By the AUTHOR!”

 “Alphys is gonna flip.” The reptilian monster was usually shy and soft-spoken in nature, but when talking about something she loved, Alphys could become momentarily unrestrained and speak freely about her hobbies and passions.

 “That’s EXACTLY what I’m hoping she’ll do! I don’t even know how many hours I spent and how many online shopping websites I had to search through, and let’s not even get into how much money I had to shell out for the set after I FINALLY found it - but seeing her nerd out over something like that, it’ll all be SO worth it. I’d do it again five times and a bunch more if I got that kind of adorable reaction each time!”

 “That’s so cute, it makes my heart hurt!”

 “So, uh, sorry to be the bringer of bad news, Frisk, but... if we really DID get the same thing for her, mine’s GOTTA be the superior of the two. ...There’s no way we both got her a signed set of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie mangolios, did we?”

 “No, fortunately we didn’t get her the same thing.” It was subtle, but the tension in Undyne’s expression eased at that. “Those DVDs of hers you mentioned? Well, I watched the series myself several years ago, and the ones she has aren’t complete. They’re from that old company that went out of business that used to hold the license; and not only did they do a horrendous job with the dubbing, but the episodes are out of order, some of them are even missing, and then the ones that weren’t cut were edited so badly that it’s almost painful to watch.”

 “Really? I watched some of the episodes with Alphys before, and at the time I didn’t really notice anything too weird about ‘em. But now that you’ve told me all this stuff, I gotta say, there’s actually a whole lot of plotholes and a bunch of other things that didn’t make much to any sense in the story.”

 “So this right here...” Frisk plucked a present from the ever-expanding pile, a sparkly tag with the name ‘Alphys’ written in pen stuck to the paper, and waved it around with a smile. “...Is the complete set. All fifty-two uncut episodes in their correct airing order on eight disks, with the additional viewing choice of a brand-new English dub or the original Japanese voice acting with subtitles.”

 “Dang, I just realized... Alphys is gonna be so busy with this stuff we got her, she probably won’t have any time to hang out with either of us anymore!”

 “Well, I can’t say anything about the books, but maybe we could make the viewing of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie a thing at Ladies’ Night from here on out?” Frisk suggested, believing that the rest of the girls might enjoy it; especially since they could actually follow the plot along without much trouble when watching this edition of the series.

 But Undyne didn’t respond to her suggestion. No, the redhead was peering at something behind her, just over Frisk’s shoulder, with a slack-jawed expression. But before Frisk could even begin to ask her what was wrong, a shrill squeal erupted far too close to her ear, forcing her to turn around.

 “Alphys!” Frisk shrieked herself, now knowing exactly why Undyne had seemed so distraught. “How much did you-” It was too late, she realized. “You... you heard everything, didn’t you?”

 “So much for surprises...” Undyne grumbled sourly, crossing her arms.

 However, Undyne’s prickly mood quickly faded when Alphys launched herself at her, flinging her arms around her neck and squeezing with all the appreciation she could convey as she practically screamed her gratitude towards them both.

 “ThankyouthankyouTHANKYOUTHANKYOU...!!!!!” Alphys screeched with delight, her grip around Undyne’s neck becoming tighter and tighter to the point that even one of the strongest monsters in the Underground was having difficulty breathing.

 “Alphie, you’re CHOKING me...!”

 “Oh... OH! Sorry! I’m SO sorry!” She immediately detached herself from the fish lady, somewhat mortified but still giddy, and gave her a chance to regain her breath. “I just... I got so excited that I... I just couldn’t contain myself anymore!”

 “Well, you’re gonna have to contain yourself for a while longer, now!” Undyne huffed, a look of faux scorn gracing her face. “Instead of doing the honorable thing and walking away when you had the chance to, you stood RIGHT THERE and heard everything that you weren’t supposed to; and once again, instead of WALKING AWAY and pretending you didn’t hear ANYTHING, you LET US KNOW you were there by calling attention to yourself with all your adorable squeaking and squealing!”

 “I... I’m so sorry I ruined the surprise...”

 “...I know you didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just... I really wanted to WOW you, Alphie. And I’m sure Frisk here did too, what with how much she was hyping up your present from her.” Undyne then pointed a clawed finger at her. “HOWEVER, because the identity of your gifts have been revealed to you too early, you have to WAIT to open them – ONE HOUR for EVERY MINUTE that you spent standing there listening to us!”

 “I stood here for about five minutes...” Alphys decided it was best to be honest with her, to avoid disappointing Undyne any further than she already had.

 “Then you can open them at three.” She huffed in response, then peered down at Frisk, who was giving her a fixed stare accompanied by a tiny frown. “Don’t you give me that look! That’s what my mama made me do whenever I snooped around to see what I was getting for Gyftmas before I was supposed to! Heck, sometimes I screwed up with her so bad that I had to wait for DAYS after Gyftmas had passed! Don’t ask me how she always knew I snuck some peeks of the stash before she could get ‘em all wrapped - moms are just really good at finding out about that kind of stuff.”

 “Aww...” Alphys pouted in a manner not unlike an upset child, and both Undyne and Frisk had to admit – seeing her like that really was precious.

 “It’s just a few hours, Alphie.” Undyne playfully rolled her one good eye and began shoving her good-naturedly towards a group of guests that had gathered around the television. “Let’s go mingle some and then you’ll see the time will pass by before you even know it!”

 Undyne hauled Alphys off in such a rush that Frisk had missed her opportunity to give the finned monster her own gift – she watched the couple for a moment, wondering if she should drop in on their ensuing chatter to deliver it, but it seemed they were having so much fun that she’d hate to interrupt. She supposed that Undyne could open hers later, alongside Alphys’s.

 Shopping for Undyne had been a bit of a stumper, compared to some of the other monsters that she knew. Frisk’s first choice had been a replica sword, but then she recalled their frequent hangouts at her place and remembered that she had plenty of those – the human girl thought for some time that they had burned up in the fire, but Frisk learned shortly after visiting her new home on the surface that she braved the seemingly eternal flames which still engulfed her old house in the Underground and had gone back inside to rescue them. And aside from a few scuff marks, they were essentially in pristine shape.

 Even though she was certain that her anime-obsessed friend would be more than thrilled to receive yet another oversized duplicate sword to add to her collection, Frisk felt that her Gyftmas present needed to be a bit more special. She wracked her brain for days on end, reviewing everything she knew about the powerful fish woman and former captain of the Royal Guard.

 So, after much deliberation, Frisk decided that instead of giving her yet another replica for her to put on display...

 She would get her a real one.

 The only person she had spoken to concerning this idea was Sans (because Papyrus couldn’t keep a secret even for the sake of his own life, and Alphys couldn’t exactly be trusted with this top-secret information either because she became increasingly loose-lipped when excited to a certain extent), who unhesitantly informed her that while Undyne would be ecstatic, going through with it would be a grave mistake on her part.

 Undyne was zealous, yes, and incredibly hot-blooded for a fish lady, but Frisk told him that she trusted her to be responsible with the bladed weapon.

 “a move which will henceforth be known as ‘mistake number two’.” He had rung in with his opinion then.

 But she honestly couldn’t think of anything else that would impress her as much as a genuine steel sword, so at the time Frisk had more or less told Sans to stuff it. She was hoping with all her might that Undyne would prove him wrong – otherwise she’d never hear the end of it from the smug skeleton.

 Frisk was aware that someone who had the ability to summon spears made of magic from thin air would probably possess no real need for a sword, but the practicality of the present wasn’t really all that important in the first place – the only thing that truly mattered in the end was whether Undyne was happy or not with her gift.

 And speaking of Sans, she quite literally bumped into him on her way to the kitchen. It seemed he just then finished putting all the dishes he and Papyrus prepared in their proper places on the various tables she had set up around the living room, because the faint glow of his magic was still visible in his left eye and she caught sight of a fading wisp of blue from his fingertips.

 “‘ey, kiddo. where’s the fire at?” His hands reached out to steady her, their unexpected impact nearly knocking Frisk off her feet.

 “It’s in the kitchen – I thought I’d check up on Grillby. He said there were still a few things left that he needed to involving some additions to the spread and asked to borrow mine so he could finish the job.”

 “paps is really letting this new position as a ‘head chef’ get to his, uh, head.” He sighed, but it was an unmistakably satisfied one. “don’t get me wrong – i couldn’t be happier that he’s done nothing but improve since we’ve been on the surface; tickled to the bone even... but i gotta admit, paps can be kind of a bossy boots when he’s all absorbed in his cooking. he has this tendency to hover over anybody else with him when in the kitchen, and feels the need to input some well-meaning, but unrequested advice. so i hope he isn’t giving grillbz too bad of a time in there.”

 “You told me that everything on the list of dishes he was responsible for was finished. If Papyrus finished everything he was supposed to, then why would he be in the kitchen?”

 “to dispense some of his well-meaning advice.”

 “...Oh. Well, I think Grillby might be able to handle it?” Sans didn’t seem so sure of her words, and neither did she herself honestly. “He seems like the type to work well even under pressure. From what I’ve seen, for someone made of flames, he’s pretty good at keeping a cool head.”

 “yeah, maybe so, but even someone as chill as grillby has got to have an ignition point.” Sans did have a point there, Frisk mentally noted – and while they both knew that the flamesman would never blow up on Papyrus, the likelihood of him becoming tormented by the skeleton’s helpful intentions was quite high. “you said you were going to pop in and check on him? i’ll go with ya – i’ve gotta give grillby his gift anyway, so now’s as good a time as ever, i guess.”

 “What did you get him?” Frisk asked, filled with curiosity.

 “well, it’s not really much of a gyftmas present, but...” He shrugged, seeming somewhat ashamed. “i’m gonna finally pay off my tab with him, with interest. i think he’d probably appreciate that more than anything else i could’ve got him today.”

 “You mean you still haven’t paid off that big bill you racked up in the Underground?” Frisk shook her head, but smiled all the same. “What I have for him isn’t anything material either, but I’m pinning my hopes on the possibility that it’ll be the sort of gift that’ll keep on giving in the long run.”

 “it already sounds a lot better than what i have planned. so, don’t keep me in suspense, kiddo - what’s this spectacular gift of yours that’s supposed to keep on giving all year ‘round? it’s not a one-year membership to the jelly of the month club, is it?”

 “No, and I caught that reference, Sans.” She giggled, and he swore the sound was almost like bells, if only to him. “Some of the monsters, like Grillby, I couldn’t think of anything to give them that I could wrap up in a box. So instead of something physical, I decided to make a present out of an act or service – I’ve made the arrangements for his restaurant to receive a much needed expansion in the near future, since I heard from him and a few other regulars that the building is getting sort of cramped, what with all the new customers he’s drawing in now.”

 “aww, kiddo.” He cooed, “grillby ‘ll probably start crying soot when you drop the news on him. an upsized establishment is the best thing you ever could have thought up to give him. you’ve got me beat in that department - that’s way better than my idea.”

 “Gyftmas isn’t a contest, Sans.” She gently chided him. “And I’m sure that Grillby will be more than happy to collect your overdue payments as a present. I’m willing to bet he most likely never thought he’d see a single piece of the gold that went into your meals, so at least it’s a guarantee you’ll be surprising him.”

 “ouch.” He placed one hand over his ribcage, feigning hurt. “that was cold, frisk. real cold. you wanna know how cold that was? that was so cold, that i could step right through that front door and walk straight into that blizzard going on out there, and it’d still be a whole lot warmer than what you just said to me, your ol’ pal sansy.”

 “i was just teasing you, funnybones.” She lightly slapped his arm, the touch more akin to a light tap as she laughed, “I knew you were always planning on paying him back. You always do. Grillby once told me you never did let him down before when it came to eventually clearing off your tabs, so he didn’t expect you to this time, either.”

 “that grillby... what a guy.” Sans shook his head, almost pityingly.

 When they entered the kitchen, they found Papyrus exactly where Sans expected him to be, standing behind the flamesman and leaning over his shoulder, closely scrutinizing his work as he chattered on and on in incomprehensible culinary jargon. Grillby’s reaction to this was subtle – to the casual observer, he would appear to be nothing but the very essence of calm. However, the slightly erratic flickering of the flames that composed his body made them aware that Grillby was steadily becoming increasingly distressed at the unwanted commentary and being so closely observed. If that alone hadn’t clearly sent the message across, then the near pleading look he gave the two when he took notice of their presence certainly would have.

 “i got this.” The skeleton by Frisk’s side whispered. “‘ey, pap? what’re ya up to in here, slaving away in front of a stuffy hot stove, when there’s a party going on out there?”

 “OH, HELLO BROTHER! AND A MERRY GYFTMAS TO OUR GRACIOUS HOSTESS TODAY, MY BEST HUMAN FRIEND, FRISK!” He greeted them cheerfully, then gestured to Grillby. “I WAS MERELY OFFERING MY VASTLY ENHANCED CULINARY EXPERTISE TO ONE OF OUR OTHER FELLOW CHEFS WHO IS IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE!”

 “i can see that you’ve been busy.” Sans stated simply, taking in the fire monster’s haggard appearance which Papyrus seemed to be oblivious to. “but pap, it looks like grillbz is about done here, and some of the peeps attending the skelly-bration have been asking about ya in the past half hour.”

 It wasn’t a lie, either. At least five monsters had flagged him down on his way to the kitchen alone, questioning him on the whereabouts of his brother. Perhaps it was merely curiosity at work, as the brothers were rarely apart from one another for extended intervals, but the fact remained that several guests were expecting the appearance of the great Papyrus.

 Sans wanted to rescue his good pal Grillby from the fate of being subjected to his younger brother’s backseat cooking, but he didn’t want to hurt Papyrus’s confidence or his pride in order to do so.

 It was one of his fatal flaws – Sans showed difficulty in being honest with those he loved whenever something was amiss, so he would lie in order to spare their feelings. He held the uttermost purest of intentions, but Frisk had a premonition of sorts that this habit of his would one day return to bite him hard in the boney posterior, and the end result might not be as humorous as it sounded.

 “UGH. THAT PUN WAS HORRIBLE. JUST... ABOMINABLE!” Papyrus groaned, his disgusted reaction eliciting a snort from Sans. “...YOU SAY THAT THE PARTY GUESTS... ARE REQUESTING MY COMPANY?! WELL...! I’M TERRIBLY SORRY, GRILLBY, I CAN’T EVEN BEGIN TO EXPRESS MY REMORSE, BUT I MUST LEAVE THE REST OF WHAT REMAINS TO BE DONE IN YOUR CAPABLE HANDS!”

 “That’s quite alright, Papyrus.” Grillby’s soft, whispery voice crackled, the relief it displayed only being discernible to the human and the shorter skeleton. “I can finish up the rest of the cooking just fine by myself – you go and enjoy yourself.”

 Sans had cleverly played on the enjoyment Papyrus took out of being the center of several’s attention well – he had no difficulty in carting him out of the room and thus allowing the overstressed fire monster to complete his assigned task in relative peace.

 Before they slipped out of the kitchen, Frisk left an envelope addressed to him on the counter where she was certain he would find it. Inside were papers, the documents detailing the renovations and additions that would be appended to his restaurant, and all that would be required of him in exchange is that he sign his name on the dotted line at the bottom of the last page.

 This is what Frisk murmured to Sans when he inquired over the contents of the mysterious parcel he had noticed she left behind for Grillby to discover.

 “didn’t you want to watch him open it, though?”

 “Yeah, I did, but... I thought that if he really did end up crying over it, then it might fluster him if he did that in front of you or me or Papyrus. This way, he can be as emotional as needed in his own privacy, and Grillby can find me later to talk about it if he wants to after he’s composed himself.”

 “i’m sure he’d appreciate the consideration. pretty much anybody that’s known grillby for long enough is aware that it don’t take much for him to get worked up until he’s shedding soot all over everything. you’d think he’d be the stoic type, someone that isn’t easily moved, but that first impression couldn’t be further from the truth.”

 “I think it’s wonderfully sweet. The world needs more caring and tenderhearted men like him. There are way too many aloof, dismissive, and severely emotionally stunted types out there already.”

 “yeah?” Sans replied, his interest piqued – not that she picked up on anything unusual or out of sorts in his behavior.

 Little did Frisk know, topics such as her preferences in men, specifically monster men, had been frequently occupying his thoughts as of late.

 A spark of faint, barely there attraction had manifested following her befriending and hanging out with his brother. He made a valiant effort in forcing these feelings of his down as deeply as he could shove them, to the very bottom of his protesting SOUL. He tried to convince himself that such a thing between them would never work out by using various methods to psyche himself out of his budding crush.

 She’s a human. She could still be dangerous. Monsters aren’t supposed to feel this way about humans. The other monsters would make fun of you. It will only end in tragedy. You’d put her in danger if anyone found out. She would never feel the same.

 Such excuses was what he relied on to reign in his emerging urges, his desires to pursue a relationship of a romantic nature with her. But the more time he spent with her, the more he heard her laugh that was reminiscent of the chiming of bells at his jokes, his japes, and antics, the more he beheld her smile that shined brighter than the stars he loved so much, the more it became impossible to deny that he had fallen.

 Fallen deeply and hopelessly in love.

 He was constantly torn between handing out hints that pointed towards his sentiments and doing everything within his power to bury them from her sight. He didn’t want her to uncover his blossoming affections, yet he did want her to. Sans had never felt such a terrifying, yet thrilling sensation in his entire life.

 Since he was made aware of his own feelings towards Frisk, there were only two things holding him back from participating in the games of love, presently. The first was the very real prospect that she may not share his feelings. The second, however...

 “Papyrus, before either of you go wandering off anywhere, I need you and Sans to stay put for a moment – I’m going to get your Gyftmas gifts out from under the tree. I hope they haven’t been buried underneath the others up by now...”

 Papyrus nearly squealed with jubilation and delight, gushing over her thoughtfulness as Sans for the second time that day was caught off-guard.

 “you mean the socks weren’t my present?” He questioned, pointing to his legs which were covered up to his patella in tiny burgers and fries.

 “Good gracious, how did I not notice that you were still wearing those things?” Frisk remarked, the second-hand embarrassment almost overwhelming.

 “your guess is as good as mine, ‘cuz you really should of since you’re so short.”

 “Oh hush.” She huffed, scurrying off for a few minutes before returning with two boxes wrapped in brightly colored paper.

 Once the boxes were in their respective hands, both noted that the presents were actually rather heavy in weight. They took the time to tilt their gifts from side to side, gently shaking them in front of her, just to tease Frisk a little before opening them. Sans felt the need to casually stick the bow that was on the box to the side of his skull, for whatever reason – this borderline bizarre action still elicited a laugh out of the girl all the same, much to his inner satisfaction.

 Because that was a part of love – doing stupid and even irrational things just to make the one you loved happy.

 Papyrus tore into his present first, and he couldn’t have been more captivated with what was inside.

 “SANS, LOOK!” He proudly held up a thick book with several tabs sticking out of the pages; it was a book of recipes, to be precise. “‘101 WAYS TO PREPARE PERFECTLY PLEASING PASTA’! EVERYTHING I COULD HAVE EVER WISHED TO LEARN ABOUT SPAGHETTI IS CONTAINED WITHIN THE CONFINES OF THIS BOOK! I CAN AT LAST TOSS OUT THAT OUTDATED COPY WITH ALL THE FADED AND TORN BITS I FOUND IN THE UNDERGROUND’S JUNKYARD!”

 So that explained what was wrong with his spaghetti then, Frisk thought. Chunks of his previous cookbook were missing, and he must have tried to substitute ingredients and wing the rest of the recipe’s steps, with disastrous results.

 ...But that still didn’t quite explain why it wasn’t even remotely edible. Just what had he put inside the sauce?!

 “so i guess that you’ll be telling that old book...” Sans started, the grin on his face spreading further.

 “SANS, DON’T YOU DARE!”

 “pasta-la vista.”

 Papyrus’s entire body gave an almost violent jerk as a strangled wheezing sound escaped his throat – it was a laugh or a chortle of some sort, that much they were sure of, but he had done his best to suppress it.

“SANS... THAT PUN WAS EVEN WORSE THAN THE LAST!”

 “nuh uh. you thought it was hilarious.” Sans calmly contended with a smirk. “don’t even try to deny it, paps. your reaction said more than words ever could.”

 “...I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY OR HOW THAT HAPPENED. I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED IT, ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, BUT I STILL LAUGHED ANYWAY!”

 “i know the answer to that – it’s because i’m the pun-niest skeleton that ever lived.”

 “...THAT IS DEBATABLE.” Papyrus shot him an unamused glance. “NOW DON’T BONE-DOGGLE AROUND ANY FURTHER THAN NECESSARY – START UNWRAPPING YOUR OWN PRESENT AND SHOW ME WHAT FRISK GAVE YOU FOR GYFTMAS!”

 “ok, patience, paps. don’t get your tibia in a twist.” He chuckled, tearing off the wrapping paper in one swift motion and gingerly opening the top flaps of the box to reveal... another book, even heftier than the last. He flipped through it, his sockets gradually widening as he viewed its divisions. “it’s... an astronomy book. star maps, pictures and scientific accounts of solar and lunar eclipses, statistics about the planets in the solar system...”

 Questioning whether he appreciated it wasn’t at all necessary – his expression of wonderment spoke for itself. Sans was positively beaming, and the sight of him wholeheartedly enjoying her gift sent a series of warm fuzzies straight to her heart.

 “thanks a bunch, but... you... you didn’t have to get me anything...” He was touched almost beyond words. “this must have cost a literal fortune...”

 “Pish posh. Never you mind about the price.” She waved off his concern, only providing further proof to him that the astronomy book was indeed more expensive than she was letting on. “Seeing the look that’s on your face right now made it worth every cent.”

 “aw geez, kiddo...” A bright blue blush crept onto and coated his cheeks once more - Frisk couldn’t quite say why, but she found the shade and color to be exceedingly cute.

 Papyrus then plucked Frisk from her place off the floor and pressed her firmly against his chest, hugging her tightly as he thanked her. So tightly that breathing was becoming somewhat of a challenge while being subjected to his loving clasp. Sans squeezed his way into the embrace, finding some amount of enjoyment in watching Frisk struggle and squirm before interfering by tugging at the sleeve of the other skeleton’s sweater.

 “bro, i know you mean well, but I think you might be squishing her.”

 “Yes, please don’t squish the human...” She whined pitifully.

 “OH! MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES, FRISK!” He released her posthaste, setting her down with evident care on her own two feet. “I SEEMED TO HAVE FORGOTTEN THAT YOUR FRAGILE HUMAN BODY WASN’T PROPERLY EQUIPPED TO FULLY WITHSTAND THE FORMIDABLE STRENGTH FROM THE POWERFUL PHYSIQUE OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

 “I’m fine, Papyrus. Just... give me a moment to catch my breath.”

 She supposed his tendency of putting his all into everything, even something as natural as an embrace, was a trait that came about from his friendship with Undyne. The fish woman was in no definition of the word gentle, so even the simplest of gestures such as handshakes and hugs were elevated to an extreme level.

 “So, I’ll... take that as a sign that you liked your gift?”

 “YES! IMMENSELY SO!” Papyrus answered as he held the cookbook filled with pasta recipes up, almost proudly. “I PROMISE, FRISK, ONCE I PERFECT THIS RECIPE, YOU’LL HAVE THE MOST DELICIOUS PLATE OF SPAGHETTI OF YOUR HUMAN LIFE, YOU CAN COUNT ON THAT!”

 Several months ago, her insides would have twisted up in dread at that. But now, she could actually feel her stomach threatening to growl and the faintest traces of drool beginning to form at her mouth. She was genuinely looking forward to his dish to the point that Frisk wished she could eat it immediately, if not sooner.

 Against her wishes, all these thoughts and talk of spaghetti spurred her stomach to indeed growl, and quite loudly at that. She could feel the air around them still, and both brothers were staring at her with expressions that could only be described as judgmental.

 “you... you didn’t eat breakfast this morning, did you, kiddo?” Sans says after a long pause, almost accusingly.

 “...No.” She admitted, seeing there was no sense in attempting to fib her way out of this one.

 The once denizens of the Underground took food very seriously, if the vast array of cuisines Frisk came across during her journey were any indication. It seemed each monster she met had some sort of signature dish, such as Toriel’s butterscotch cinnamon pies, Sans’s hotdogs (or even more specifically, hotcats), Muffet’s spider doughnuts and cider, and of course Papyrus’s spaghetti.

 Monsters took their mealtimes very seriously, and Frisk had just committed a terrible offense in their eyes, or rather eye sockets.

 “FRISK, WHY WOULDN’T YOU EAT BREAKFAST THIS MORNING?” Papyrus questioned her mournfully, sounding betrayed. “IT’S THE MOST IMPORTANT MEAL OF THE DAY!!!”

 She had definitely upset him, Frisk realized – he had used three question marks when reprimanding her, something that was usually only reserved for him when he was at his utmost happiest.

 “I... I didn’t have time to.”

 “kiddo, you’re surrounded at every angle by food.” Sans gestured all around them at the tables, every inch of their surfaces covered by dishes filled with delicacies. “that’s, kind of the entire reason why you asked us all to bring something? so nobody would have to go hungry at this party? so, uh, tell me, frisk – what makes you think the host is exempt from that precaution, huh?”

 “It’s not like I chose not to eat anything on purpose, I’ve just been busy.” She feebly defended herself, already aware that she was fighting a hopeless battle. “Making sure everybody’s happy, handing out gifts, that sort of stuff...”

 Sans studied her for a moment, seeming to process her words carefully before craning his neck upwards to look at his brother.

 “...pap? you don’t mind taking up the position of co-host, do you?”

 “WOWIE, WOULD I EVER!”

 “Wh-What?” Frisk blinked twice at them, confused beyond all reason. “What do you mean ‘co-host’?”

 “it means exactly what is sounds like – pap is gonna take over some of your responsibilities so you can relax.”

 “And I don’t get a say in this at all...?”

 “nope.” “NOPE!”

 Their replies were simultaneous, cheerful, and matter of fact, and before she knew it, Frisk felt the bony hand of Sans clamp around her own, tugging her away from the taller skeleton and towards the banquet.

 “But-But I still have presents to deliver to their proper recipients!” She protested, Sans not slowing down in the slightest.

 “YOUR CONCERNS ARE UNFOUNDED, FRISK! THE PRESENTS HAVE TAGS!”

 “they’ve got tags, frisk.” Sans parroted, as if she had somehow not heard him. “don’t worry your pretty head; he’s got this.”

 “Okay, if you say so...” She responded, not sounding convinced at all.

 “trust me on this – papyrus is somebody that feels like he needs to be doing stuff constantly, all the time, and he likes being useful. while i do wish that he would sit down and smell the spaghetti from time to time, this is something good to him, and for him. paps being co-host and handing out presents will give him the chance to mingle, maybe make some friends, even. this’ll be like a whole other present, to him.”

 “All of that does make a lot of sense, now that you’ve explained it...” Frisk conceded defeat to his logic. “...But that doesn’t mean that you have to pull me around just to show me the table spread. I’m the one that set up everything, remember? I know where the food is.”

 “obviously, you don’t, since you haven’t eaten anything yet.” He shot back, and she stuck out her tongue at him childishly – he was just as immature, though, and flicked his own out as well.

 Once they were at the table, he commenced piling the food onto two plates, one for her and one for himself. He then guided his human companion to one of the couches, one where not as many guests were gathered around so there was no danger of someone getting rowdy and spilling their food onto the floor.

 The moment they were seated, before Frisk could even get comfortable, a tiny hotdog wrapped up in a croissant (otherwise known as pigs in a blanket, Sans’s own culinary contribution to the event) was shoved in front of her face, tapping insistently at her lips. She lightly shoved his arm away, but he was persistent.

 “Sans, I know how to eat by myself. You don’t have to feed me!” She squawked as she continued batting at his hands, refusing to allow him to push the tiny sausage past her lips.

 It was mostly out of a sense of paranoia of someone seeing them and getting the wrong idea. The last thing she needed was for someone to begin harassing the skeleton because someone mistakenly believed they were an item. Human-monster couples had become a thing remarkably quickly, but Frisk didn’t believe that Sans would ever be interested in pursuing a relationship with one, much less herself.

 “well, you could of fooled me.” He snipped, and he used her shocked expression at that to his advantage, popping the pig in a blanket into her open mouth. “there, now doesn’t that taste good, baby?”

 “...You’re making me seriously reconsider being a pacifist, Sans.” The girl warned him, but he knew it was all in good fun, wiping away the crumbs at her mouth as she chewed with his thumb before bringing another one to her lips.

 She reached up to snatch the little hotdog from his fingers, causing him to pout exaggeratingly.

 “Well, well, well... aren’t the two of you getting cozy~” A soft and sugary female voice remarked.

 Frisk whirled her head around to find Muffet standing a few feet away, staring at them with the corners of her mouth curved up into a sweet but sly smile.

 Out of all the monsters that could have caught the two of them like this, Muffet was by far not the worst, Frisk thought. She would definitely tease her over this, if not the both of them, but she wasn’t one to spread rumors around.

 Sans, however, seemed to have no sense of shame and all and curled an arm around Frisk’s shoulders, pulling her closer to his side and flashing a grin that matched Muffet’s own. The two monsters shared a knowing gaze that made Frisk feel as though she were missing something here...

 “Hey Muffet, did you come to chat?” She asked somewhat nervously, but the spider lady seemed to be fixed on what she had just witnessed.

 “Oh, and what could be happening here? Did I step into a secret little romantic rendezvous between two lovers?”

 Frisk nearly blanched, and even more distressingly bizarre was, Sans made no moves to deny her outlandish claims. The most he did was wiggle whatever constituted as his eyebrows at Muffet then turning around and doing the same with her. He then picked up another morsel from the platter between his two phalanges in an attempt to feed her again, as if she were some sort of small animal in need of treats.

 “Hmm, that looks fun, dearie. Let me try!” And with that, Muffet plucked one of the pigs in a blanket off of Frisk’s plate herself and poked at the human’s lips with it.

 “Muffet, no, not you too-mphh!” She was quickly silenced by the sausage being shoved into her mouth.

 “Aww, what a sour expression.” Muffet cooed, reaching out to pinch Frisk’s cheek, tugging it around in different directions before releasing her hold.

 Frisk made a solemn vow to herself, then and there – she was never going without eating breakfast again.

 The price was just too much to pay.

 When she turned her head upwards to look at Sans sitting next to her, all smug, she mentally noted that was probably the point of all this. Nevertheless, an important lesson was learned.

 She snagged her plate from the skeleton and scooched as far away from him as possible, all the way to the other side of the couch. Sans, however, just moved as well, sidling right up next to her and slinging his arm around her shoulders once more.

 “The two of you are adorable together~” Muffet giggled, taking her place on the couch at the space directly next to Sans. “I actually didn’t come over here just to torment you, dearie. I wanted to speak with you.”

 “...About what?” Frisk questioned, suspiciously and with a hint of dread.

 “Oh, nothing for you to be wearing such a grim expression. I encountered Papyrus a few minutes ago and he delivered your gift to me on your behalf – I came over here to thank you! An expansion for my bakery, to somehow arrange such a thing was incredibly... generous, of you.”

 “I couldn’t think of a single other thing that might make you more happy.” Frisk confessed. “That was the best I could do.”

 “Dearie, there isn’t a single other thing you could have given me that would have made me happier.” Muffet shook her head, her pigtails swaying from side to side. “I was elated to have that old building and make it into something of my own, you must believe me on that, but it was so very... cramped. And there was only so much I could do with that limited space, and thus only so much I could earn with the few resources I had available.”

 Muffet frowned, her voice dwindling to nothing more than a murmur.

 “...I am aware of what others say of me, I’ve heard their whispers; that I’m stingy and constantly demanding money, and perhaps that is true in a certain sense, but I behave so not for myself, but for all of them, my family.”

 She gestured around the room, and Frisk could make out several members of the Arachnid family in the crowd. She hadn’t met any of them during her adventure underground, but Muffet was more than eager to introduce them to her after they had struck up a proper friendship and began spending an extended time in each other’s company. Frisk always knew that Muffet was so much more than a money-grubbing spider like some spoke of her as being, but now more than ever was Frisk made aware that she was simply a hard-working monster, toiling endlessly to provide for her family.

 “I never once thought such a thing would ever leave my lips, but...” Muffet sighed blissfully, “your gift almost feels too generous. My one and only wish, every year when Gyftmas arrived, was for all of them to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I never truly cared much about seeing the surface, if I’m being honest with myself, but ever since they began occupying it along with the rest of us, that’s all they’ve ever been – happier than I’ve ever seen them. And I have you to thank for it.”

 Muffet was right – Frisk couldn’t exactly speak for how they may have behaved prior to the breaking of the barrier, but each and every member of her family seemed to be in high spirits whenever she saw them. And today, Gyftmas Day, was no different.

 She could spot Irene, the big, buff tarantula, arm wrestling with Undyne, Alphys cheering her on along with several others while Irene was supported by several other spiders and monsters, and it appeared it was going to be a close match. Edgar, a short and rather shy male black widow, was cuddling with his human girlfriend Elizabeth on one of the other couches (fiancé, he frequently insisted, in spite of them only having known each other for a few months at most). Muffet’s father, Daddy Longlegs, who was also one of the higher up employees at Frisk’s office, seemed to be conversing with some other guests over by the punch bowl, the once tall and intimidating monster wearing a gentle smile on his face.

 Ku-Mo, Muffet’s mysterious as much as beautiful relative from Japan, who had fled from the war and thus managed to escape the fate of being imprisoned in the Underground, had arrived with her human husband in tow, the two having been married in secret for several years already and were currently quietly enjoying each other’s company by the crackling fireplace. Julian the peacock spider, a dancer and a designer, was bickering endlessly with Mettaton who he often claimed to be his rival, as per usual during their encounters, but even that was far more lighthearted and less snide than the norm. Spinerette, his timid brown recluse wife, was watching from the sidelines, trying to make herself as unnoticeable as possible.

 Charlotte and Peter, the twins of inexplicable origin (Muffet claimed the two just appeared before her several years ago, as if having manifested from thin air; no mother, father, nor any relative of the sort accompanying them, and the already massive arachnid family took both brother and sister in without any further questioning), were supposed to be eating together while watching television, but were spending more time tossing mini marshmallows from their cocoa at one other over little comments the other made more than anything. And Webber, Muffet’s first cousin and a tarantula/daddy longlegs hybrid, was busying himself with keeping the Annoying Dog preoccupied with pets so Papyrus wouldn’t freak out.

 Watching them all like this, along with the others, it was exactly the sort of beautiful chaos that Frisk had wanted out of today.

 Muffet then more or less pushed Sans to the side to envelop Frisk in a loving, six-armed embrace, holding onto her tightly like a lifeline.

 “Seeing them like this, this is all I’ve ever wanted out of this life of mine. ...Everyone had to keep up appearances in the Underground, a jovial one; we all wore a smile, grinning and bearing it, but occasions such as these are the ones where I know for a fact that they’re genuine – real. I sleep so much better in my nest knowing they’re all so much happier this way.”

 She held the human even closer towards her, if that was somehow possible.

 “As far as I’m concerned, Frisk, you’re a member of the arachnid family as well. If you need anything, dearie, anything at all, then please keep in mind that you can come to me for whatever it may be.”

 To say that Frisk felt touched by the sentiment would be the understatement of the century. Muffet had a strong sense of family, but didn’t befriend others easily. She spent so much of her time invested in keeping her own kind content that she simply had none left to spare on friendship, not until she left the Underground. Muffet always wore a mask of mystery, much like her relative Ku-Mo, giggling sweetly and deflecting questions about her own state of happiness in favor of focusing on her family’s.

 She and Sans were very much the same in that regard – perhaps that was why the two were always so amicable towards each other. They had a mutual understanding.

 “Dearie, I know it isn’t much; I’m certain that nothing I could possibly give you could ever properly repay for everything you’ve done for me and my family, but this is my gift to you.”

 Muffet gently placed a medium sized box onto Frisk’s lap, light in weight and the wrapping paper covered in little cupcakes. It was so adorable that she hesitated for a moment to open it, but she could tell that despite her modesty when presenting it, Muffet was eager to see her reaction to its contents.

 Inside the gift box was... a blanket. A silk blanket, and it appeared to be a handmade item. The blanket was as white as the fallen snow covering everything outside, and the fabric almost had its own sparkling quality to it as well. Every detail was intricate, so much so that staring at it for too long almost made Frisk’s head begin to spin. Muffet had told her that this present was nothing to get excited over, but the amount of effort that must have went into the weaving of this blanket warmed her to the very core.

 “Muffet, it’s... it’s... beautiful!” She cried, holding it up for Sans to see, having crawled back up onto the couch sometime since the spider lady shoved him.

 “I’m so happy to hear that, dearie!” And she could tell that what she said was genuine, Muffet’s features relaxing somewhat. “I wanted this one to be my greatest creation yet outside of the bakery business, but... I feel as though the pressure I placed on myself only caused me to make more mistakes. I believe I spent more time retracing my steps and fixing my blunders than actually weaving...”

 “Well, the end result is breathtaking, and I mean that in the best of ways. Thank you so much!” Frisk praised her work as she carefully folded up the blanket, intending to place it on her bed once an opportunity to do so had made itself available.

 “The blanket should be big enough for two. Perfect for cuddling.” Muffet giggled, then turned a pointed glare towards Sans as she stood up. “And Sans, dearie? If I discover that you’ve stained it with ketchup in the future, I’ll strangle you in your sleep~”

 The spider lady then stepped away from the pair, in high spirits like the rest of her kin, leaving the two of them to process her words.

 Frisk simply saw her suggestive behavior towards them as Muffet being, well, Muffet. Sans, meanwhile, must have taken what she said more to heart, because a deep blue blush had covered his entire face, but he was grinning shyly as he took the blanket from her, putting it inside the box it came in and setting it safely to the side before placing her plate of food from earlier onto her lap.

 “eat the rest before it gets too cold to.” He ordered, seeming to have forgotten or at least pretended not to know that monster food didn’t cool down like human food did.

 Nevertheless, she did what was asked of her, otherwise he might decide to feed her again in front of everybody.

 “Sure, he clams up because of something silly that Muffet said, but when it comes to him shoveling food into my mouth, in public, that doesn’t seem to faze him in the slightest...” Frisk inwardly remarked, reflecting on the skeleton’s hypocrisy.

 They finished their lunch a while later, idle chatter between the two eventually filling in the awkward silence that the spider lady had left behind. On each occasion it seemed to Sans that Frisk was done when her plate wasn’t empty, he prepared himself to feed her again, giving her plenty of warning beforehand to coax her into eating everything in front of her. He continued to do this until it was cleared, the human girl sending him a grumpy glare once she had, to which he responded by pinching her cheek.

 “Jerkface.” That was the only thing she could think of to call him, as juvenile as she knew it was – he just smiled warmly at her.

 “i love you too.” He immediately replied before turning all the way around, appearing to Frisk as though he suddenly found the wallpaper extremely fascinating.

 “i can’t believe i just said that out loud, joking or not...” He thought, but the inner pride swelling in his ribcage for having finally said those sweet words that so often stirred inside his SOUL whenever he was with her won out over any shame and embarrassment he might have felt.

 This sense of satisfaction didn’t last long, unfortunately for him, and soon his insecurities and fears took over once again.

 Much to his relief, Toriel had made an appearance shortly after his little accidental declaration. Much to his chagrin, however, she came in the company of Flowey, otherwise dubbed by Sans as ‘that awful weed’.

 Flowey looked none too happy to be here as well, and the tiny wool winter beanie the queen had knitted for him which rested on his topmost petal did little to brighten the overall mood he was emanating, much less the matching sweater he also wore or the bright red bow wrapped around his pot.

 Frisk, on the contrary, thought he was adorable.

 “Awww!” She nearly squealed when she caught sight of him, momentarily abandoning Sans to coo over his attire. “Looks like somebody came ready for Gyftmas!”

 “Bah humbug.” He grumbled, but the faint blush that bloomed across his face didn’t escape her eye.

 What also didn’t escape her observation was the object that dangled over the doorway, directly above them. A clever idea came to her.

 “I apologize for his rudeness, my child.” Toriel gave her a sheepish smile. “He’s been in a sour mood all morning, I’m afraid.”

 Frisk supposed that he would be. This was very likely the first Gyftmas he would be taking part in after several long years of being a flower. The last time he had a proper Gyftmas was probably when he was the Underground’s prince, Asriel, and that had been a long, long time ago.

 “Well, if he’s gonna have that kind of attitude, then maybe I’ll just have to keep his present to myself until he learns better manners.” Frisk spoke as if he weren’t right there, but her tone was discernibly playful – he quickly perked up.

 “Well, don’t keep me in suspense!” He demanded as he impatiently wiggled his leaves, “Let me have it!”

 “oh, i’m gonna let him have it, alright...” Sans muttered under his breath, but Frisk elbowed him in the ribs and told him to shush.

 “Okay, but you have to close your eyes first!” The skeleton by her side raised a socket slightly at this, but said nothing, just stared at her inquisitively.

 “...Oh, fine... fine...” Flowey conceded defeat to her whims, closing his cartoonishly beady eyes as instructed.

 “And no peeking either!”

 “I won’t, I won’t!” He insisted complainingly.

 “Okay, now keep them shut...” She giggled, leaning in closer towards him, holding her breath before...

 “Mwah!” She smooched the flower, right on the mouth. “Mistletoe kiss!”

 “BLUH!!!” He sputtered, retreating backwards and staring at her with wild eyes, then began coughing, wheezing, and hacking as though he were dying. “Bleh! Bluh! Ptooey! Ugh...”

 The two women watched his theatrics with an amused glee; meanwhile Sans was sulking a few feet away, mumbling unintelligibly to himself.

 “ungrateful brat. would’a been over the moon if that’d been me...”

 A few more moments of spitting and spluttering passed before Toriel chose to speak up over her son-flower’s dramatic display of disgust.

 “Flowey, dear, you’ve made your point. That’s enough of that.” She chided him gently, placing a gentle paw over his head to give him a comforting pat.

 His mother’s warm and familiar touch calmed him considerably, but he was most definitely still sour over the trick.

 “And just what was that supposed to be?” He grumbled to Frisk, who was still smiling cheekily throughout the whole ordeal.

 “Affection!” She replied cheerfully.

 “Disgusting.”

 “Well, if that’s how your attitude’s gonna be today, then I’m just gonna have to give this-” A small gift box with a bow appeared before his round beady eyes, which she had somehow procured from behind her back despite there being no evidence of it having been there before, “to someone else, then.”

 His demeanor took an almost instantaneous shift; still displeased with her jokes, but far too eager to receive his gift to risk tempting Frisk’s patience with him, just in the unlikely but certainly possible case that she was actually serious about withholding his present privileges.

 Satisfied with his compliance, Frisk then placed the tiny box in front of Flowey, resting on the rim of his pot. Before she could begin to question just how he was going to open it without any fingers, or even hands for that matter, he immediately tore into his gift, quite literally, with his teeth. He ripped off the bow first and foremost and flung it to the side, hitting Sans directly in the face – it couldn’t have possibly hurt him, but he complained nonetheless.

 In just seconds, Flowey had stripped the box of all it’s wrappings and was free to lift the lid to the bare box lying underneath. Inside was... some sort of micro-sized controller, or that’s what it seemed to be to him and his observers.

 “It’s a Flowey-sized game controller!” Frisk explained happily, confirming the identity of his gift. “I asked Alphys to make it for you, since she and I thought it wasn’t really fair that you’re always at a disadvantage whenever we play together.”

 He stared down at the controller for the longest, then lifted it into his leaves with apparent wonder, taking a few moments to fiddle with the various buttons and other parts installed into it’s design. After a few seconds, a wide smile crossed his face – not one of his cruel, deranged ones, but a genuinely pleased and pleasant smile.

 And that was all the thanks Frisk could have ever asked from the prince turned sentient plant.

 Unfortunately, her friend Sans didn’t share the same thoughts.

 “i didn’t hear a ‘thank you’...” He all but grumbled, both of his arms crossed like a disappointed parent.

 “I’ll say it after I wipe the floor with you in Smash.” Flowey spoke matter-of-factly with a smug and satisfied smirk.

 A dark shadow crossed his face, and the skeleton suddenly leaned towards him to whisper something, “...yoshi committed tax fraud.”

 ...and that was when Frisk and Toriel knew they had to step in before this escalated to an incident.

 “HE DID NOT! STOP SPREADING YOUR LIES, SKELETON!!!” The buttercup more or less shrieked, struggling to free himself from his pot as Toriel quickly stepped several paces backwards.

 “I’ll talk to you later, Toriel.” Frisk said swiftly, wrapping her arms around Sans’s middle and dragging him away before he could make the situation between him and Flowey worse than it already was.

 “Can you go one day, one day without being a colossal butt?” She asked, already knowing the answer before he even opened his stupid mouth.

 “nope.”

 “See, I knew you were going to say that.” She sighed, more to herself than to him. “I didn’t even get the chance to give Toriel her gift, and all because you couldn’t play nice with Flowey for more than two seconds.”

 “sure, blame your bestest pal, sansy.” His tone remained jovial though, despite the blatant accusation that was also present. “here, just gimme the gift and i’ll get pap to deliver it. no sweat.”

 “But I wanted to see her face when she opened it...” Frisk whined, gazing down at the tiny box in her hand – inside was a snail shell pendant, the fragile mollusk casing cast in a layer of genuine rose gold on a matching delicate chain. “...And it’s all your fault.”

 “ok, ok... even though you’re being all cute and pouty about it, i can tell that you’re really upset with me.” He snatched the box from her hand before she could react, handing it off to Papyrus with just as much speed before turning back to her. “so, let me make it up to you. c’mon, put on your coat and boots and let’s head outside.”

 “Outside...?” She parroted, staring at the skeleton as though he had just spontaneously grown a second head. “Outside, as in, outside with all of that snow?”

 “hey, the weather’s calmed down a bunch since we’ve been here. see? it’s just fluttering down, completely harmless. so going out there now would be more like standing under a shower of white confetti.”

 He did have a point, Frisk acknowledged when she glanced out the window for herself. Aside from that, Sans seemed to be really eager about something, and while the probability of it being over a dumb, not to mention juvenile prank was extremely high, she enjoyed seeing him happy.

 So, a few minutes later, the human girl had donned her winter apparel and headed out of the house with him, quietly leaving the party without a word to make their way into her frosted over backyard garden.

 The pair sat on a bench in the middle of the area, directly in front of the frozen pond. Frisk had once pondered over purchasing some koi for it, but now she was glad she hadn’t. Just what does one do with the fish when winter came, anyway?

 “Okay, Sans. I can tell you’re giddy, so don’t even try denying it – don’t keep me in suspense, now.”

 “impatient, much?” He chuckled, but there was a noticeable bead of sweat trailing down his skull despite the surrounding temperature, and it seemed as though he were concealing something from her sight from within the pocket of his hoodie.

 He might have been able to hide the last thing from her, if only his hand hadn’t been fidgeting so much. It appeared that he was fumbling with the object, nervously running and drumming his phalanges over it every few seconds as if to ensure that it was still there. She had quite honestly never seen him like this, and it was both concerning to her, yet simultaneously fascinating.

 “here we go, moment of truth.” He spoke after a long pause, almost more to himself than to her. “hold out your hand.”

 At witnessing her hesitance, he assured her. “this isn’t some prank. i promise.”

 And at his usage of the ‘p’ word – promise, any doubts she may have previously been holding onto had instantly been vanquished and Frisk readily held out her hand, waiting. After a moment more, a small box was then placed into her open palm.

 “merry gyftmas, frisk...” Was all he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft, and could even be described as sweet.

 She glanced over the box, surveying its size.

 “...Is it a tiny whoopie cushion?”

 “nooooo...” Sans snorted, shaking his head. “if you want to know what’s inside so bad, then why not just... open it?”

 Deciding that she’d teased him for long enough, Frisk giggled softly, and gingerly lifted the lid to the box.

 To see the contents of the box, she had to push aside some tissue paper concealing the identity of her gift, but once this was done, what was revealed to her was some sort of clear ball, a bit bigger than the larger marbles one would sometimes find in a set of the glass toys. And visible within the ball was a small flower. Not a faux flower made of silk or some other fabric, but a real one that had been preserved in resin, its color a striking bright blue, so radiant it was almost glowing, no, it was glowing...

 It was an echo flower.

 Undoubtedly the tiniest echo flower she had ever laid eyes on.

 She gingerly lifted the preserved echo flower from its box, discovering a long silver chain was attached to it.

 Sans had gotten her a necklace. She never, not once would have ever expected him to present her with jewelry – he just didn’t seem like that sort of guy.

 That wasn’t to say that he was cheap with his gifts, no, far from it, in fact. But this gesture went so beyond the unexpected that Frisk was left speechless. She needed to say something, and soon, otherwise Sans will believe that he had failed in some shape or form when the reality was, this just may be one of the most precious items she had ever received.

 “Sans... it’s not really something I condone, picking favorites, I mean, but...” She smiled, the sort of one that always sent the skeleton monster’s SOUL spinning, and held up the pendant with pride. “This is, without a doubt, the best thing I’ve received today. It’s beautiful.”

 “aww... you’re just saying that.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

 “I am not!” She insisted, standing up. “And I’m going to put it on. Right now!”

 “here, let me.” He immediately leapt to his own feet and took the necklace from her grasp, unfastening the chain before looping it around her neck.

 Both of his arms were wrapped around her as he fumbled with the clasp, struggling to refasten the pendant. At least, that was what he led Frisk to believe. Even in their current position, he could have easily secured the two ends of the chain, if he so wished. But that wasn’t what he wished, so he didn’t – not yet.

 To any passerby that may have witnessed the two, it would appear as though they were an embracing couple, and that’s precisely what Sans wanted to believe they were, even if only for this moment in time. He was too much of a coward, too filled with insecurity and doubt to hold her so tenderly against him in a more direct manner.

 So, he would prolong this moment for as long as possible, or as long as Frisk would allow him to.

 “hehe... silly thing just won’t... it’s like my phalanges are coated in butter.” He pretended to struggle with the two ends of the necklace’s chain once more. “just give me a few more seconds, frisk.”

 She missed the near pleading tone present in the last line that he spoke.

 “Maybe this would have been easier if you stood behind me instead...?” She suggested, raising an eyebrow at him, not that he could see it – his head was resting on her shoulder so he could see what he was doing with the chain’s clasp.

 “maybe, but i’ve got this.” He fumbled with it for a few seconds longer, then finally put a silent end to the charade, thus ending their impromptu embrace.

 He took a step back and took in the sight of his handiwork – the echo flower pendant rested directly over her heart and SOUL, just where he wanted it to be.

 “there’s something special about that echo flower, though. it isn’t just there to look pretty.” A fierce blue blush was slowly creeping and spreading up and across his skull. “you remember what they’re famous for, right? give it a little tap. might need two or three to work, but give it a try.”

 “Sans... am I gonna hear the sound of one of your whoopie cushions if I do?”

 “do i really seem like the sort of weirdo that would do that?” He inquired, and honestly, not only was it exactly something that he might do, it sounded like a hilarious idea, but he wasn’t about to ruin such a sentimental gesture with such a cheap prank.

 “...Yes.”

 “it’s not another whoopie cushion prank, frisk.” Then he quickly added, with a strong sense of sincerity in his voice. “it’s not any kind of prank at all.”

 Satisfied with his reply, she did as he previously instructed and gave the pendant a few short and swift taps, then waited.

 The flower, despite being trapped inside the glass, glowed just a bit brighter, then...

 “take care of yourself, frisk... because someone really cares about you...”

 She recognized and remembered those words well. She had heard them before, after all, towards the end of her journey in the Underground. He had spoken those very same words to her in New Home’s Judgement Hall, but there were two stark differences when comparing the sentence from then and now, one of them obviously being the use of her name, as he nor any other monster bore knowledge of the final fallen human’s name.

 However, the intonation of the familiar phrase had changed as well – it was quieter, softer, fonder than when he said it in the past.

 “...you’ve done so much for us, frisk.” Sans spoke after a meaningful pause. “...and you’re still doing things for us. you... you really care about us monsters. it’s undeniable. you’ve even accomplished the impossible – the barrier trapping us underground broke, and i know you had something to do with it, even if i’m still not completely sure how it was possible, or if the specifics are even really important now.”

 He sat back down on the bench, patting the spot next to him and urging her to do the same.

 “you just keep on making things better, turning our most insane of fantasies into reality in the present when a whole lot of us back then were so hopeless to the point that some of us were seriously considering... giving up. i just... i think about everything that you’ve done for us, every single day, sometimes even all day, ever since i met you, and, well... i just started to wonder; do you know how much you’re cared for?”

 He let out a soft chuckle, closing his sockets and throwing all his inhibitions to the side.

 “i know the others are grateful, but i still can’t speak for any of them. i’m just sans the skeleton, after all. but... if the question being asked is, ‘does sans the skeleton care about frisk the human, our ambassador, our savior?’ then the answer is, ‘yeah, he does’. frisk, when i said ‘someone really cares about you’, that someone was supposed to be me. i care about you. a whole lot. i guess you could even say i care a skele-ton. ...i’m just sorry it took me so long to say it, but that’s how i really feel. i just wanted you to know that.”

 When he finally mustered the courage to face Frisk again, he was flustered to find her sniffling, nearly sobbing into her mittens.

 “...i’m sorry. all that was really stupid, wasn’t it?” Sans somehow felt that her reaction was negative, and that it was his fault.

 “No. No, no, no, no. No...” She choked out, but when she lifted the cloth-clad hand away from her mouth, he spotted a shaky smile on her lips. “That... That was... just so... I just... I don’t know what to say... Just give me a few minutes, I’m sorry...”

 She managed to compose herself quickly enough, Sans patting her on the back and still feeling lousy for making her cry. Once all of her quaking and hiccupping had ceased, she gave the skeleton a look that he recognized as determined.

 “Sans, I have one last gift for you.”

 “one more?” He blinked owlishly. “frisk, you’re... you’re really spoiling me here.”

 “This has been something I’ve been meaning to give you for a while, now. I just wasn’t sure when, or if it was even conceivable at all, but...”

 “frisk, you aren’t making any sense.”

 “Just... wait here. I’ll be right back.”

 She didn’t return to the house like he thought she would. No, she stepped into the little shed about ten feet away from the bench, then returned a few seconds later holding a white package with a bright red ribbon resting on top. She gently placed the present into his waiting lap, then sat next to him again with a long, almost weary sigh.

 “Open it.” She demanded, throwing Sans slightly off guard with how uncharacteristic it was of her to do so.

 But Sans still felt the need to mess with her a little before he complied.

 “is iiiiiiit...” He tilted the box left to right, then right to left, listening for any shifting noises inside. “...a pair of green shorts with purple-flower print?!”

 “...You want a pair of Patrick Star’s trunks?”

 “hey, i’d wear ‘em.”

 “I have no doubt that you would.” She eyed those burger-covered monstrosities called kneesocks still covering his legs – Frisk almost couldn’t believe that he wore them to the party and was still wearing them; almost...

 “okay, that’s enough fooling around.” He unraveled the ribbon with one swift tug, the lid to the box gone in the blink of an eye.

 Sans peered inside the blackness of the box...

 Reset...?

 Those yellow letters stared back at him, that word and the sensation it brought, the thing he had learned to expect and fear through the horrific experience of being trapped in a seemingly endless cycle of mercy and violence by a being untouchable by time, was right before his very eye sockets.

 His head whipped up to face Frisk, his grin gone and his expression eerily blank.

 “It’s yours now.”

 It took him ages to respond.

 “.........wh-what?”

 “It’s yours now. The RESET button? It’s yours.”

 “...why did you think this would mean anything to me?” He spoke softly, sockets narrowing down to slits. “how did you know this would mean anything to me?”

 “I knew giving you this would open up an endless plethora of questions...” Frisk sighed to herself resignedly. “Here’s the short answer: the previous owner told me.”

 “the... previous... owner...” He repeated those words to himself, yet he still didn’t seem to understand them – his mind was fading to white.

 “I had a suspicion, for a long while now, that this meant something to you. That you were... more aware than you let on at times. And he- they, confirmed it for me. This button... it’s caused you a lot of trauma and heartache, even if you can’t remember all of it. And perhaps that’s for the best, really. I don’t know everything myself, but... I’ve heard enough, and my imagination is more than enough to fill in the rest of the story for me, even if I don’t want it too.”

 “papyrus... he... he died.” He whispered brokenly, holding his skull in his hands as he hunched forward. “over and over and over again. i can’t remember how or why, but i just know that he did. he shouldn’t be here now, a lot of us shouldn’t be here now, i probably shouldn’t be here now, alive, but i am. we all are...”

 “Sans, there’s nothing in the world I can say or do to produce any proof that what I’m saying is the truth and force you to believe me, but I never hurt anyone. The damage was already done by the time I came along.”

 “then who did it, huh? who killed my brother and everyone else?” Sans nearly spat, causing Frisk to flinch – what she didn’t know was, his spite wasn’t directed towards her at all; he was suspicious, yes, but...

 “I... I can’t say. Because I made a promise that I wouldn’t. But... this person, they��re very sorry for what they did in the past now, in the present. They want to make amends, to atone, but don’t know how or even if such a thing could ever be possible. Once again, I have no proof that what I’m saying is the truth, but this, it was our idea. They agreed to it, Sans, that it was only fair for you, the one most affected by this, to be the one to gain ownership of it – the RESET button.”

 “............”

 “I’ll answer any questions that you may have, about the past timelines, to the best of my abilities. Just as long as they’re not about the previous owner. But I never hurt anyone, Sans.”

 “......I know that.” He whispered.

 “You do?” She replied, deadpan.

 “i do. you don’t have to explain anything to me, frisk. i believe you.”

 She had expected him to fire off at least a million questions a millisecond, to be subjected to an interrogation, maybe even a trial by fire (with Grillby serving as the fire), or something, but not... whatever this was.

 Just... quiet acceptance that her word was the truth.

 “look... this other person, the one that had the reset button before you, i already knew about ‘em before, frisk. it’s true that when i first met you, i thought you had something to do with the resets, and i was sorta right, but not in the way i first thought. that’s why... that’s why, sometimes, i wasn’t as helpful as i could have been, not as kind as i should’ve been. the resentment that i felt for something that was beyond my control but in someone else’s, there were occasions where i took it out on you. i couldn’t understand how you could just, hurt all of us like that, and then go right back to being friends with us, like nothing ever happened, reset or not.”

 One of Sans’s skeletal hands reached up to cup her cheek, surprising her.

 “but then the more time i spent with you, i realized that some things just didn’t add up. and now i know why – you never did hurt us. i was blaming you for something that was never your fault in the first place.”

 “But you’re wrong about that, Sans – I did hurt you. I did use the RESET button. I never did hurt anyone in any of the timelines, but... you have to understand, Sans, it took me several tries to reach this ending.”

 “that doesn’t matter now.” To Frisk’s immense shock, he actually smiled, not grinned, but smiled. “whatever you may or may not have done in the past, you’ve more than made up for it with everything you’ve done in this timeline.” He patted the side of the box containing the thing he once dreaded and loathed “...including this right here.”

 “It’s your power now, Sans. At first, I considered destroying it and putting the pieces in the box as your gift. ...But then I thought that wasn’t fair to you, either. So it’s all up to you from this point onward. The decision of whether or not there’ll ever be another RESET rests all on your shoulders, because I’m satisfied with how everything’s turned out. Everyone’s happy now, and that’s all that ever mattered to me in the first place, alongside staying alive. I’m so sorry if my methods of achieving this result put you through any turmoil, though.”

 “frisk, i understand and forgive you, but... this other person, though. they may be sorry, but you also have to understand that i can’t forgive them. not unless they apologize to my face for everything they put me, paps, and the others through – even if i am the only one that has any memory left, no matter how small it is, and can comprehend just what happened then.”

 “They want to apologize to you, Sans. Desperately. They’re just... afraid to.”

 “well, tell ‘em i’m ready to listen whenever they’re ready to start talking.”

 “I’ll pass that on, Sans. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but you will get an apology sooner or later.”

 “frisk, i...” He spoke after another long moment of stillness between them, clutching the box tightly. “i just... you don’t even know how much this means to me...”

 “You’re right. I don’t know, and maybe I never will, but... I can imagine. Imaging how much suffering you went through. And I won’t force you to talk about your experience, but if you ever want to, I’m here. I’ll listen.”

 That’s when whatever was left of Sans’s stoic façade faded. Frisk held out her arms, anticipating such a reaction for the last few moments, and he immediately flung himself into her hold. He sobbed into her shoulder, every single emotion he had been repressing since he came to the conclusion that he was enclosed in a vicious cycle spanning across time-space was released. She was simultaneously the first and the last person Sans ever wanted to see him like this.

 Frisk didn’t judge him for his outburst, no, she never would. His human was far too kind for that. She simply held him while he cried, stroking the back of his skull and patiently waited for the flow of tears to ebb, not caring in the slightest if they soaked her sweater. Several minutes passed like this, perhaps even hours, but Frisk never gave any indication that she wished to move. Eventually though, Sans did compose himself.

 “oh... ohhhh gosh...” His words possessed a slight slur. “that was so embarrassing...”

 “No, it wasn’t. You held all of that in for far too long.”

 “um, speaking of holding things in, frisk...” He began, but much to his surprise, Frisk just huffed.

 “Really, Sans? You’re going to make a fart joke after all this?”

 “really, frisk?” He mocked, actually feeling somewhat offended. “is that all i am to you? a bag of misery borne of time-space-related trauma, barely together bones, and ill-timed fart jokes?”

 “...Pretty much, yeah.” She replied after a beat, but her tone and expression clearly conveyed that she was joking. “In all seriousness, though, what was it that you wanted to say?”

 “well... this is something that i’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now, but didn’t, because, well... i thought there was no point in it since i thought i didn’t have a future. but, uh, now that i know i do, there’s, um, literally nothing stopping me now, except for myself, that is. i...” He took a deep, deep breath, then sputtered all at once, “ohgoshimactuallydoingthiswaitnoicantdothisohmygo-”

 “Sans, don’t push yourself! It’s okay! Nobody’s forcing you to say anything!” Frisk almost panicked as she watched him choke and hyperventilate.

 “no, frisk; this is something i’ve gotta do!” He insisted, hands fluttering over his ribcage and spasming in different directions – if she didn’t know any better, the girl would say he was doing a killer impression of Burgerpants...

 Before she was forced to listen to Sans make any more chicken noises, the sound of what could only be described as peacocks screaming filled the air, along with the distinct crash of what was unmistakably the sound of a window shattering. The ‘peacocks’ were Mettaton and Julian screeching, and when Frisk turned her head in the direction of her house, she saw one long leg sticking out of the snow surrounded by a ring of glass.

 “Frisk, darling! I’m SO, SO, SORRYYYYYYY!!!” The robot nearly wailed. “I’ll pay for the damages; I promise I will!”

 “No, I’ll pay for the window! Agreeing to engage this fool in a dance contest was my idiotic idea in the first place!” Julian immediately added after, causing the two to squabble over who was more remorseful and who would get to repay their ambassador.

 “Sans, this is gonna have to wait until later. I have to deal with this, apparently.” Frisk patted his shoulder then offered him a hand. “You coming?”

 “nah, i think i’ll stay out here for a little while longer. maybe use some magic on these dark circles under my sockets, you know, so nobody knows i was bawling.”

 “Okay, but if you’re not back in thirty minutes, I’m coming back out to check on you.” Yet another crash, followed by several more screams permeated the once quiet winter air. She groaned, then gave her echo flower pendant a few flicks to trigger the message Sans had recorded. “I know they care too, but I wish they cared like you do. You never break any windows.”

 “just because i haven’t doesn’t mean i won’t.” He grinned.

 Frisk narrowed her eyes, causing him to snort at her expression.

 “...Take some time to think about what you just said, with the screams of those two flamboyant idiots in there as your soundtrack.”

 She stomped off towards the house, and as Sans watched her retreating figure, despite the cold around him, he was left with a feeling of warmth, contentment. His SOUL felt light and fluttery, fluffy as the falling snow.

 He held the box closer towards himself, its contents something he once hated, but now loved – because it was given to him by the human he loved...

 Sans felt another round of sniffles begin, but now he was crying for an entirely different reason – he felt happy.

“if i didn’t love her before... stars, i sure do now.”

[ihatecoconut]

Misunderstood

Cross Posted to AO3

“Race, c’mon.” Jack called, “I don’t have time to stand outside here and yell at you until you come out, but I will.”

There was a muffled response from the other side of the door, which Jack chose to interpret as an affirmative, but was more likely a repetition of the ‘fuck off’- the only thing he had heard from Race since he had locked himself in the bathroom. He still didn’t know why.

Race had come home almost half an hour ago, slammed the front door and locked himself in the bathroom. Jack, who had stuck his head out of the kitchen at the door slam had just had enough time to watch Race borderline sprint to the bathroom and lock the door. He had been in their since, had only started responding to Jack after twenty minutes, and Jack was pretty certain he had been crying.

“Race please.”

“Fuck off, Jack!” Yeah, definitely crying, Jack could hear the crack in his voice.

He sighed and slid down the wall until he was sitting in their tiny corridor opposite the bathroom door. “I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Who said I want your help?” Race retorted.

That, Jack decided, was progress. It was something out of him other than ‘fuck off’ and it was also kind of an acknowledgement that something was wrong.

“Alright, how about Davey’s help?”

Race didn’t respond to that, choosing instead to throw something at his side of the door- or that was what Jack assumed he did, considering all he heard was a thump and he couldn’t actually see Race. Either way, he took it as an affirmative.

Cowboy: hey can u come over smthns up w race

DaveyBaby: Yeah, of course, do you know what it is?

Cowboy: nope hes looked himself in the bathroom & wont say anyth or come out

DaveyBaby: I’m on my way, I’ll be about ten minutes

Cowboy: thanks.

Davey didn’t respond, and Jack took that to mean that he had put his phone away in order to drive. Ten minutes- he could deal with ten minutes of unresponsive Race; he’d been dealing with Race since they both moved in to Medda’s nearly eight years ago.

“Are you gonna talk to me yet?”

“Fuck off, Jack.”

Apparently not.

*

Davey arrived exactly ten minutes later, as expected because he never drove over the speed limit, no matter the emergency (‘I won’t be able to help in an emergency if I’ve been pulled over by the police, Jack!’) and he always perfectly calculated the amount of time it would take him to drive said speed limit. The only indicator that Davey was as worried about this as he was, was the fact that he opened the front door and let himself in, rather than knocking and waiting for Jack.

“Where is he?”

Jack waved his hand listlessly at the door, “Still in there.”

“Alright,” he raised his voice slightly, “Race?”

A pause. A thump. “What?”

“Are you gonna come out?”

“No.”

Any other time, Race would have jumped at the opportunity to make a joke about being gay and coming out, but instead of throwing out the ‘I’m gay’- even miserably- he didn’t make it at all. Jack watched as the crease in Davey’s brow deepened.

“How long has he been in there?”

“About forty minutes now.”

He nodded, and Jack could almost see him breaking down the problem in his head, “Race?”

“What?”

“Have you eaten today?”

There was a small, broken sob and Davey’s eyes widened, panicked.

“Yeah,” Race said, “I ate.”

The two of them exchanged a confused glance,

Davey turned back to the door. “Uh, have you got a drink?”

There was a quiet sniff that they only picked up on because they were listening out for any more sobs, “No.”

“Will you open the door enough to take a water bottle?”

Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Davey’s unconscious mothering.

“Yeah,” Race sighed, “I guess.”

Davey smiled, looking slightly relieved, “Thank you. I’ve got one here.”

A hand stuck itself out of the crack that appeared, and Davey placed a water bottle- that he had apparently just brought with him in his satchel? - in it. The hand disappeared quite quickly after that and there was the sound of Race re-locking the door. Jack looked up at Davey.

“What now?” he mouthed

Davey held up a hand- the universal sign for ‘hold on’- “Race? We’re gonna go into the kitchen now. Shout or come out if you need anything, ok?”

“Yeah.”

Davey nodded and bit his lip, the worried look was back in his eyes and Jack wasn’t feeling any better than he had been ten minutes ago, the only positive he could see was that he- the most emotionally stilted person he knew- was not dealing with this alone. Carefully, the two of them moved into the kitchen. “Where was he?” Davey asked quietly, glancing back at the corridor before looking Jack straight in the eyes.

“I don’t know,” Jack replied, keeping his voice to the same volume, “he said he was going out, I asked him if he was meeting someone and he said yeah and then left so…”

“You don’t know who he met?”

Jack shook his head apologetically.

“Ok, ok. Let’s go down the list.”

“Huh?”

“Our friends. You know, people he could have been with.”

“Right, ok, go ahead.”

Davey nodded and pulled out a pen, “Paper?”

When Jack finally found a blank piece of paper, Davey spilt it into two columns- ‘Not’ and ‘Possible’. Down the ‘Not’ column, he wrote ‘Davey, Jack, Sarah, Katherine, Albert.’

“Albert?”

“Sarah was helping him with his math class.”

“Ah, ok.” Jack took the pen and added to the column, ‘Elmer, Smalls, Sniper, Crutchie’

“Were they with you?”

“Yeah. Except Crutchie, he was at Medda’s today.”

“Alright, and now the possible column.”

Together they managed to collect the rest of their friends’ names in the other column- ‘Tommy, Mike, Ike, Blink, Mush, Spot, Finch, Henry, JoJo, Buttons, Specs, Romeo.’

“That’s a much longer list.” Jack pointed out, unhelpfully, “What are we gonna do, text everyone and ask if they were with Racer?”

“Unless you have any other ideas, yeah.”

“I’ll take the top six then.”

Davey nodded reluctantly- it wasn’t the best way they could do this, and it was a little bit of an invasion of Race’s privacy, but Race never cried and he wasn’t offering anything they could do- so they both sat down, ready to text a bunch of their friends and offer no explanation for their question. As people slowly responded, they crossed names off the list. Ten minutes later, Race emerged from the bathroom, just as they had got it down to the twins and Spot.

“What are you guys doing?” he asked quietly, a massive difference from Race’s normal demeanour.

“Trying to work out who you were with.” Davey told him, oblivious to Jack wincing at his honesty, thinking that Race wasn’t going to be happy about that, “Because it might help us work out how to help you.”

“Oh.” Race responded, listless and emotionless, “Who do you have?”

“The twins, Mike and Ike.” Davey watched Race for a reaction, “And Spot.” The reaction to that was immediate, Race’s face crumpled, and he curled his knees up to his chest.

“Spot, then.” Jack muttered, and then louder, “Ok, what did he do and how much should I hurt him?”

“Please don’t hurt him,” Race whispered, barely audible through where his face was buried into his knees, “I think I love him.”

There was a long pause and Davey and Jack exchanged a bemused glance, “Ok,” Jack finally said, “I’m gonna need an explanation on that one.”

Race sat up again and rubbed his sleeves over his eyes, “I thought we were dating, we go out every week and we hooked up at Jack’s last party, so I thought we were dating, but apparently not because he asked me who I was dating, which must have been his way of trying to let me down gently, but I thought we had something and-“ he broke off with another sob.

Jack was choking slightly, “You had sex?” he demanded, “With Spot Conlon?”

“Yeah, and we kept dating after that, but apparently we weren’t.” Race managed to get out between sobs. Davey stood up and went to get a glass of water,

“Calm down, drink this and calm down, we can’t do anything while you’re like this.”

Race nodded, accepting the water, and breathing deeply after ever sip, the other two watched him until he had finished the glass and seemed a lot calmer.

“Ok,” Davey sighed, “I think I know what happened.”

The other two looked at him, Race with raised eyebrows that quite obviously asked him to go on.

“Ok,” Davey started, “so, before you had sex- “

“Please just say hooked up,” Jack interrupted.

“Before that happened,” he continued, shooting an irritated glance in Jack’s direction, “the two of you were already going out for meals together, spending time together- doing what you classed as going on dates?”

Race hesitated, obviously unsure of where Davey was going, “Yes?”

“Alright,” he nodded like this made sense, “and then you… ‘hooked up’ and neither of you spoke about it, you didn’t acknowledge it at all.”

“Well, you know Spot, he doesn’t like to talk about things.”

“And then you continued to go on what you classed as dates?”

Davey could see some of the clarity he had dawning in Jack’s eyes, unfortunately Race still looked confused, and it was Race he was trying to explain the situation to.

“Yeah, Mouth I don’t get where you’re going with this.”

“Did Spot know they were dates?”

“Uh…” the horrified realisation was finally rising across Race’s face like the sun across the ocean, “I mean, he must have, right?” He looked at both them desperately, “Right?!”

“He is a little dense.” Jack offered, almost immediately wincing from the sharp kick Davey delivered to his ankle- apparently growing up with a twin taught you to do an insane amount of things unnoticed.

“This cannot be happening.” Race whispered, “Oh God.”

“You could talk to him.” Davey pointed out, “Tell him what you meant, apologise for not talking to him clearly, et cetera.”

“I’ve never heard someone say that out loud.” Race informed him, still in the same distant, horrified tone as before, “Et cetera. Who says that?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I know.”

*

Hotshot was in an incredibly similar position to the one Jack had been around 20 minutes previous; the only difference was that Spot, rather than locking himself in the bathroom, had chosen to pace the length of their apartment, muttering under his breathe and waving his hands angrily. He had been doing that for about 15 minutes and she was starting to get sick of it.

“Are you gonna snap out of it, or what?”

He paused, blinking at her as if he hadn’t noticed she was there, “What?”

“Snap out of it, Spot!”

“Yeah, sorry.”

He immediately resumed his pacing, and she resisted the urge to bang her head against a hard surface,

“Spot,” she groaned, “why are you doing this?”

“Me and Racer went to Jacobi’s for lunch.”

The urge to bang her head against a hard surface and not stop until everything stopped, “You do that every week.”

“Yeah, yeah I know that.”

Hotshot gritted her teeth- this was her best friend, and he was obviously struggling with something, so she was going to help him through this and not yell at him. She let out a calming breathe. “Then what’s the fucking problem?”

“He told me he had a boyfriend.”

“If you keep only telling me half pieces of information, I’m gonna hurt you.”

“Alright, alright! He told me he liked having a boyfriend, and I was upset because I’m a little bit in love with him and we hooked up at Jack’s last party and I thought that might mean something, but I’m a good friend and I wanted to be supportive, so I asked him who he was seeing and he just left and I couldn’t go after him because neither of us had paid, so I paid and then I was gonna go after him, but he and Jack moved in together and I don’t have his new address yet so I can’t and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Jesus Christ.” She muttered, slightly overwhelmed with information. “When I said stop giving me half bits, I didn’t mean dump all of it out.”

“I don’t know what to do, Niamh.”

“Alright, ok, we, uh, we should probably deal with that slowly.”

He was looking at her the way he had used to when they were still two kids in an abusive foster home, and she had taken on the role of his older sister. “Ok.”

“What do you mean you hooked up at Jack’s last party.”

His face went red, “I didn’t mean to say that bit.”

“Yeah, I guessed. Explain.”

“Explain what, Niamh? You know how it works.”

“Don’t get snappy with me, Sean.”

He leaned back into the couch, “Sorry.”

She ran a hand over her face, running back over his little info-dump in her head, “You’re in love with him?”

“Yeah…”

“Why?”

“Why?”

She hadn’t meant to ask that; she had just never even understood how the two of them had become friends- they had almost nothing in common from what she had seen- and was therefore utterly thrown by his deceleration of love. “I don’t know, Sean.”

“He’s so kind.” Spot whispered, “he’s so nice to everyone, and he smiles at people on the streets, and the kids at his dance studio all adore him, and he always makes time to talk to them if we see them in public. He always makes sure that Davey has time to chill at Jack’s parties ‘cos otherwise he would spend the whole time worrying, and he dances so prettily.”

“Huh.”

He sunk further into the couch- anyone else would think he was ashamed of his deceleration, of the fact that he liked another boy, but Niamh had known him long enough to know he was waiting for her validation, he wanted to know that she thought it was ok. Often, she had cursed the people who had made him crave validation for every response, but it was more important in that moment to give him the validation than to tell him he didn’t need it.

“I’m glad you found someone.”

Spot smiled up at her, just a small thing, but it was there, and then it was gone, “It doesn’t matter, though, he’s got a boyfriend.”

“Yeah…”

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, which was Spot’s general attention span in the quiet, “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell me who it was.”

“What do you mean?” Niamh asked, running back over that part of his monologue in her head- so I asked him who he was seeing and he just left and I couldn’t go after him because neither of us had paid, so I paid and then I was gonna go after him, but he and Jack moved in together and I don’t have his new address yet so I can’t and I don’t know what to do about it.

“I mean he just left!”

“And how did he seem?” She asked slowly, carefully making her way towards the same conclusion Davey had reached with Race.

“Uh, upset, I guess? But I don’t know what he was upset about because I would never abandon him or be mad about who he’s dating so…” Spot trailed off and looked up at her again, and the expression was back.

“You asked who he was dating, and he seemed upset?”

“Yes. Are you listening?”

“And you hooked up at a party?”

“Yes.”

“And you go out to eat with Race, and just Race, every week, no matter what?”

“Yes, Niamh, what’s your point?”

“I think it’s you.”

“You think what’s me?” Spot demanded, and his ‘King of Brooklyn’ façade was up, concerningly since he had never felt the need to be emotionless around her.

“I think…” Hotshot explained carefully, “that Race thinks the two of you are dating.”

“What?”

“Yeah…”

“But he told me he had a boyfriend.”

“No…” Niamh corrected, “he told you he liked having a boyfriend. He said that. To you.”

Spot’s eyes had gone wide, “Oh no.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“It’s so bad, Niamh! He probably thinks I was rejecting him or something!”

Niamh didn’t know Race that well, but if he was a true match for Spot, he probably did jump to a conclusion that stupid. She neglected to point that out, instead grimacing sympathetically, and watching him as he jumped back up and resumed the pacing he had been doing previously- she couldn’t even bring herself to criticise him this time. “You could talk to him?”

“I don’t know where he lives, Niamh! How am I supposed to do that?” Spot was waving his hands frantically, “He probably hates me!”

“Spot! You have a phone!”

He froze, halfway through another step, hands up in the air where they had been when he suddenly stopped. She was half tempted to pretend to reset him, but that would probably be insensitive considering his panic.

“My phone.” He finally whispered and dove across the room to grab it. “What do I sa- hey!”

Niamh snatched the phone out of his hands, helpfully already unlocked and pulled up Race’s contact- the only contact in his phone with an emoji after it.

“What are you gonna say?”

“Hey, I think I might have misunderstood you earlier, can we talk please?” she spoke as she typed it out, “That ok?”

“I-uh yeah.”

“Good.” She hit send and they both stared at the screen. “Maybe we should do something else for a while?”

“Yeah…”

*

Back at Jack and Race’s, the three of them were trying to come up with some sort of plan. Davey kept shooting down most of what they came up with- most notably ‘kill him.’ ‘avoid him.’ ‘seduce him.’- and was starting to look slightly done.

“Oh my God!” Race suddenly shouted, holding his phone out at arm’s length, “He texted me!”

Jack and Race politely ignored Davey’s “Thank God,” instead choosing to read the text several times,

“Huh,” Jack said, “I think Davey was right.”

The boy in question leaned over the shoulder that Jack was not reading over and glanced over the message. “Yeah. I think Spot might be on the same page as us now.”

“So, what do I do?” Race asked, looking up at him hopefully.

“…Text him back?”

“Yeah, yeah, uh I’ll ask him to come here? Or should we go somewhere else?”

“The park.” Davey suggested, “It’s kind of neutral ground.”

“You’re a genius!” Race informed him, typing fast enough that his fingers were almost a blur, “If you didn’t like Jack and I didn’t like Spot I would absolutely date you!”

“Thanks…”

“He responded! He said yes! I’m leaving!”

“Please put on shoes and a coat!” Davey cried as he made a break for the door with neither of those things.

“Yeah, yeah, ok.” Shoes and coat in place, Race gave them a cursory wave and sprinted out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

“I am so glad that crisis is over.” Davey sighed, sinking back down on the couch, “And I am now going to sleep for three years.”

Jack laughed and ran a gentle hand through his boyfriend’s hair, “You do that.”

*

Nobody ever actually found out how the conversation between Race and Spot in the park went, but they did announce that they were officially dating- and kinda had been for three months- in the groupchat later that day. Hotshot and Davey also received some nice socks a few days later, supposedly from an anonymous donator, but the ‘thanks for your help with Race/Spot’ respectively did kind of make the lack of signature pointless.

[gra-sonas]

Currently airing its second season and already renewed for its third, The CW’s Roswell, New Mexico continues to push the story of alien siblings attempting to live peacefully in the town of Roswell to new places even perhaps for fans of the original Roswell. MICHAEL VLAMIS discusses working on the show, the complexities of his character, Michael Guerin, the many (MANY) other projects on his plate and more!

watchtivist: To start off, congratulations on the success of the show! How cool that you’re heading into season three now!

MICHAEL VLAMIS: It’s crazy, I remember when I got the call that I was going to be on the show in the first place. It’s the role that changed my life and it really set me up for all the other things going on in my life. I remember getting that call, crying in a public place. So jacked up! And now all of a sudden, it’s like no big deal. I watched the episode last night (episode 207) on the TV and I get reminded it’s a big deal when I talk to my parents after every episode and hear their thoughts. Just the fact that they get to see their son miles away on television once a week. I appreciate you saying that because sometimes it feels like this is something we’re doing now, but definitely taking those moments to be grateful and the fact that we have season three is amazing.

W: It’s really great, especially in this landscape where shows don’t really get to dig into things. It’s gotta be exciting!

MV: Definitely.

W: One of the questions we received from Twitter was about if this role, that of Michael Guerin, has led you to acquire any particular skill set (or sets) for it.

MV: Oh wow, that’s interesting. Season one made me pull out my guitar again. Which was actually really cool because I got like not good at guitar, but decent where I could play a few songs. In college, I borrowed someone’s guitar and later got my own and played a bunch. Then for years, I got so focused on trying to make it as an actor, writing and auditions, that I stopped playing it. The show forced me to really go out of my comfort zone and even though it was easy things like songs with four chords or strumming patterns, sometimes depending on shooting schedules and if they got switched around, I’d learn something three hours before going to set. We’d wrap super late sometimes and I’d come home and dig in with my guitar. It’s definitely helped me brush up on that. I haven’t played the guitar on season two, so I’m probably back to where I was. [Laughs]

W: With the violent circumstances making up Michael’s background, he kind of starts out with that “looking out for number one” approach to things and season two we’re seeing Michael’s growth and him realizing when it’s perfectly ok for him to let people in and reprioritize based on that. What has that been like for you in terms of tackling the role? What would you say is the next phase of the growth for him?

MV: I think number one in tackling it was that I had no idea that the character was this complex in the beginning. I knew he was hiding his sexuality and who he really is, which is an alien. I knew that something had happened to him in the foster system growing up and he didn’t have the best upbringing. As the seasons have developed, everything has made a lot of sense. I’m sure Carina (Adly MacKenzie) knew from the moment she got the opportunity to do the new Roswell , so the way that it was written in the beginning, I was never surprised where it led me. And even with not being surprised, it’s been really cool to just see what they’ve given me to jump into. It’s kind of helped me deal with some of my trauma as a kid, and my trauma is not near what Michael Guerin’s was. I definitely had my moments, just as we all do with our families. Not feeling good enough or just hiding certain things about you because you’re afraid of who you are and people wouldn’t understand you. The complexities of the character have really helped me also look into who I am. Because I need to figure out a way into every script, every scene and the character. It helps me strip things away and boil down to “Ok, who was thirteen-year-old, chubby, Michael Vlamis and now I’m this way. What was that growth like?” Figuring out my own personal growth helps me elevate that character, Michael Guerin.

With where we’re going next, I can’t say too much because he already has some changes coming towards the end of the season. It’s very interesting to see everyone’s theories online, some are correct and some are way off.

I saw in last night’s episode they finally revealed the junkyard owner, Walt, was the little boy from the flashbacks and people were speculating that really early on! That was really cool to see people getting validation in their theories because I love seeing those online. When it comes down to it, I want the dude to be happy with one of these lovers. I don’t know who that’s going to be. Everyone always asks who I’d rather be with and I can’t really even say that, even if I had one, because they’re both so different. I think Maria (Heather Hemmens) and Alex (Tyler Blackburn) are both good for Michael at different times in his life. I know Tyler is going around telling people that that’s what he wants in season three and I let him run his mouth and hope that his new love interest in the show crashes and burns. [Laughs] I would like him to be in a good relationship, a happy relationship, but at the same time, I’m so excited to do the work on the days where my mother is dying, my brother is in a coma or I’m getting my heart ripped out. I love those scenes so much, as happy as I want and think Guerin deserves to be, I love the drama on the show. So, a little bit of heartbreak won’t hurt me.

W: Right, that makes sense. The question was going to be what would you want to see for Guerin in season three and beyond but you basically answered that! You want him happy. [Laughs]

MV: I’d love to see that. I would like to further expand his journey of putting that spaceship back together. I would love to see where that goes. I don’t even know if The CW has the budget to do that and take us to outer space or something but I think that’d be so cool. To find out about that and their home planet.

W: I mean, The CW has The 100 and DC Comics shows! Space isn’t a new place for The CW.

MV: That’s true! So maybe right now we’re willing it into existence. We’re manifesting it.

W: Actually, bringing up spaceships. Given that we live in the craziest of times and the Pentagon officially released videos of UFOs - Has that been something you’ve talked about with any cast or crew members?

MV: I haven’t talked to any of the cast or crew members about it but I’m pretty sure we’re all feeling the same way about it, we’re all excited for any new information. I’ve been interested in aliens since I found out Tom Delonge from Blink 182 was a major conspiracy theorist and loves everything about UFOs and alien artifacts, that search for if there’s life outside of our own. I always thought that was so cool, going back to fourth grade listening to “Aliens Exist” by Blink 182. I want that to be the case, I want that to be real. I think life would be far more interesting and I’m always trying to believe in the most interesting things because it just furthers the imagination. I haven’t talked about it with them but now that you’ve mentioned it, I’ll shoot off a text.

W: The show hasn’t shied away from increasingly difficult topics like the foster system, immigration, citizen’s rights, abortion, etc. Is there an area you’re hoping the show either continues to explore or adds going forward?

MV: I would’ve answered this question so differently two years ago but now I would say something with the LGBTQ community really responding well to the show has really furthered me as a human being and opened up my mind to what people who are made to feel “outside of the norm” go through. I personally don’t think or feel that they are. I think it’s ridiculous the taboo that society has placed on sexualities over the years. The fact that we give marginalized voices a platform to come forward and see that what they’re going through, other people are going through. That it’s ok, it’s love and that’s all that really matters at the end of the day. It’s so special to me. The more that we can tackle that, it really comes down to my character and Tyler’s character having a great relationship. That might mean that Lily Cowles’ character, Isobel, is still going to Planet 7 and seeing what’s out there. I think it’s cool how we normalize that, it’s not a big deal. I live in LA right now, and people, they experiment, they’re fluid. They’re interested and the more you find out about yourself, the more you know, the more comfortable you are with yourself. I think that’s a really important topic that I want to further.

I think we’ve done a really good job with the idea of what an immigrant is and what an immigrant looks like. I think we tackled the abortion scenes, I would’ve never thought that was something on our show. It’s very hard because the writers find a way to interweave everything in. I haven’t had the time to sit back and think “what else?” because every week has been something new.

W: That’s a great answer, it’s true. The show has covered a lot of topics and it’s doing very well.

MV: The abortion episode was insane, Carina fought for those shots of Lily’s legs bloody and she didn’t want to shy away from the graphicness of the scene. And I think that was important, to be really truthful to that.

W: Incredibly. This season resurrected Rosa (Amber Midthunder) from a pod years later, which is similar in a way to Captain America or Han Solo being unfrozen. With time having gone on, she’s having to adjust and in her own way, catch up to 2020. Let’s say you were able to suggest 1-2 things that someone should undoubtedly know about in 2020, what would it be? Is it a book, movie, show, certain type of food? What’s something you’d for sure put on that “must haves/dos” list of things or experiences?

MV: Oh wow, you’re really making me think about this! I can’t help but think about it as if it was me in that scenario and I would say something that I was really fortunate enough to do ten years ago, which was scuba dive The Great Barrier Reef. I think it’s so sad that it’s deteriorating at such a rapid rate because of pollution. I’m sure some natural causes. A lot of people fighting climate change will say natural causes and I can understand and see both sides to that, but I know that we definitely contribute to that. That was one of the most spectacular things I’ve ever seen. And if someone wasn’t able to see it the way I saw it, I haven’t been down there since so I don’t actually know what it looks or feels like now. But that was one of the first moments in my life where what I was experiencing…the world felt so big. Not in a way it felt just traveling. In a way it felt magical, that something like this can just exist and has existed much longer than we’ve ever been around. I’ve had that with hiking the second largest glacier in the world. All these feelings with nature have really expanded my mind and my horizon of the potential and possibilities. Realizing we’re very small, we’re here for a short amount of time. Let’s cherish it.

Traveling to these places that have just been so affected, I think that’s very important because of what it did to my mindset.

W: I loved that answer, you made it ecofriendly and everything. That was wonderful!

MV: My sister studied environmental science at the University of Illinois, so I gotta keep her mind. But I really do believe that. Maybe that’s something I want to see in the show too! Go into some climate change.  I don’t think we’ve touched that really, have we? Each side has arguments.

W: Each episode of Roswell, NM is titled after a famous ‘90s song. What’s your favorite or what would you consider the most iconic ‘90s song or band/musician?

MV: For me, it was Blink 182! In the ‘90s that was me. I’m a big Conor Oberst fan, the lead singer of Bright Eyes. The fact I’m in a scene, now multiple scenes that play that song. They did it in season one and in season two, they play “First Day of My Life,” that has been so surreal to me because music has been so important to me as a kid. I haven’t told many people this. As a kid I’d make short films with my friends, a lot of people know that, but what they don’t know is that I would rip so much music from all these platforms. As a little 11 year old kid, I’d get as much music as I could to have thousands of songs on my iTunes and iPod. Not that I was going to listen to them, but that one day when I was making my own big movies, I’d have this database of music to select from. Back then there wasn’t Spotify and it wasn’t as readily available, and also I was a kid and that was my thinking! Music has such an influence on my life, but Blink 182 specially. All that angst I was feeling at the time as a kid, it’s really in Guerin and me, even though I handle it in different ways in real life. Feeling a little different or not understood, that was that music that would give me a release without being too intense or too Screamo. If a Blink 182 song is ever in a scene that I’m in, I can die a happy man.

W: [Laughs] Amazing. Alongside acting, you’re also a talented writer, director and producer. A screenplay that you co-wrote earned a spot on the Black List which was one of the coolest things I’ve ever read. Congratulations! Are there other projects you’re currently working on or maybe topics you’re considering for future screenplays?

MV: Thank you! Yeah, definitely! The new Nicolas Cage/Tiger King series, the creator of that is actually the showrunner of a TV show my writing partner and I created as well. So, we’re all really stoked about that. Dan Lagana, showrunner of American Vandal is making such a splash with this Nicolas Cage project that it’s helping our TV show get put together too. We’ve got the Black List/Mac Miller script, we have a “Halloween comedy” feature film that’s set up at Seth MacFarlane’s company right now. Hopefully that gets made. We have an “old lady comedy” that’s being read, taking a lot of good meetings on that. We’re writing our next movie right now, we’re probably going to finish the beat sheet. We do a very detailed, intense outline of the movie, scene by scene as if we were actually writing the script. Exterior, interior, every single scene in order, everything we want out of characters in the scene, what we expect to happen, some dialogue that maybe came to mind as we’re banging out the outline. Once we get to writing, we could bang out eight pages in a day. We finish scripts very quickly, so we’re writing a “mob action comedy” right now. So yes, I became a writer out of desperation and found some success with writing. It’s been really good. As a kid making short films, it wasn’t actually in script form.

The last four years I’ve been writing a ton and now it’s starting to pop off a bit. I love it. I produce my own movies too and it looks like we’re about to lock down distribution for the first feature film I produced and starred in called Five Years Apart, it’s got a pretty cool cast in it and I’m really pumped for people to see it, we have a really cool distributor, I’m 99% sure that’ll be our distributor but I don’t want to jinx it. We’ll see if that’s going to be Hulu, Netflix, small theatrical release, I’m not sure yet. As a first time producer I’m learning all that. We’re gearing up on producing our next feature too, we were planning on filming in Wisconsin this summer but things have changed with the conditions of the world.

Acting, producing, writing, directing and releasing another merch line. I’ve been staying busy during the quarantine!

W: Seems so! I saw the line and love the pops of color!

MV: Thank you! It’s been really good, honestly the feedback, I was very surprised with how it’s done. Compared to last year and the multiple drops, this year, we’re nearing a certain point in orders and products that we’ll have to produce within three days of being out. It’s been really cool. Last year we gave 100% of profits to a charity called Random Acts started by Misha Collins of Supernatural. And this year, I unfortunately can’t do 100% again, I made the point but learned the lesson in that we had no money for this next launch. [Laughs] I had to dig into my own pockets, which was fun and it’s all good, it’s a big creative project. This year Carina created this thing called The Little Alien, a Roswell fund for the Roswell crew that’s out of work right now. She’s been raising money through t-shirts and I’m going to donate some of our proceeds to them as well. They’re the heartbeat of the show, they’re the reason we get to be there every day and things go smoothly. We’re trying to take care of them at this time.

W: Amazing, intentions matter so that’s really cool to hear. Lastly, anything you’d like to say to those reading and watching?

MV: To those reading and watching, thank you from the bottom of my heart that you’re tuning in and giving me a platform to do what I love the most. And what I set out to do felt like such a dream that from the age of 12 to 20, I wasn’t acting and making movies. Dreams are just dreams until you realize that they are very plausible, and most dreams, I think, can be achieved given the right circumstances, opportunities and work ethic. Thank you for allowing me follow my dreams and I hope that I’m able to inspire you to follow yours.

~ WatchTivist

[reneeswing]

The Joy, The Ridicule and The Hope

Let's rewind: what are the top three advices that have been given to us about COVID-19 prevention: wash your hand, observe social distance and take care of each other. Does that ring the bell that we have learnt all three things since we are in elementary school, if we are ever lucky enough to go to one.

So, I am going to make a bold statement here: most of the life-long lessons that we need for going through life, we’ve learnt them way before advanced educations, regardless of differences in culture, race and geographic locations. Yet, the sad truth is we only seem to spend the remainder of our time forgetting all we have learnt and all we need to remember to overcome this conundrum. If I dig a bit deeper, my basic education have equiped me with way more useful knowledge than what business school and law school have ever tought me. To name a few, geography helps me to navigate through the continents without being laughed at, history and literature offer me perspectives to see and comprehend everything ever happened in this time and this world. Law school and business school, on the other hand, slowly coop up people into a disillusion of elite class, distancing them from what’s actually going on in this insanely biased reality. Don’t get me wrong, I still believe every opportunity of education matters, it emancipates and liberates generations; and if anything, I have been blessed with all sort of way of thinking, coming from each stage of my school years. It is the monotonous perception on education that sometimes misinterprets or overly simplifies its true essence.

Do anyone begin to appreciate the down time of this quanrantine yet? I am not saying this to trivialize the dismal impact of the pandemic; because both our economic and social lives have taken a major toll from this crisis. For those who are alone in this quarantine, they are craving for human contact, the touch, the hug, all the more basic need of being a human; whereas for those who have a full house with multiple children at home, the working day never ends as it is combined with home schooling. This makes people finally realize that their job is their ultimate refuge. One of my friends started to refer to her kids as fantastic beasts, since the third week of the lockdown. This is, in my opinion, one of the best metaphors of the year. Now, this is what I hope: when all this is over, we will eventually appreciate more of our teachers and other educational workers. for us, it is only with our own kids, whereas at school, kids are ganged up on them. They are entitled to fairer reward and respect from all walks of the society.

Like others, my emotion has gone through various stages: at first, I was fairly content with what I’ve got here, a cozy home, abundant toilet rolls and sufficient supply of alcoholic grape juice. Then some kind of obsession started to develop, the bad kind is to slowly transform healthy self-reflection into self-condemnation for something I have done wrong 2,3,5 years ago. And the more time I spent on my devices, the higher level of anxiety incubated. Then, later on, I decided to have a rather lengthy conversation with myself, the righteous thing that I have ever done: committing to my own feelings, compelling myself away from judgement. I learnt to acknowledge them, more importantly, I searched for language and specific words to label them in all the more precise way. Through that exercise, I realized although they appear similarly, the emotion of anxiety is very different from that of sadness; and the exhileration that I was feeling is also different from excitement. When I found out I was able to distinguish those various emotions in me, I felt stress level has already half way gone, I could call the truce with myself. So, something good does come out from this period. When we are not able to go out, we should allow ourselves to go within.  

There are a lot more silver linings. To my recollection over the past 8 years, I don’t rememer any of the Dutch springs is as beautiful as this one. We’ve had sunny and warm weather throughout the month of April. Everyday, I went onto my balcony, let the light beam through my forehead and inhale the most precious fresh air. It is painful to face it that our continents are receding to isolated islands as all the traffics are shut down, but it is also delightful to find that nature thrives when human society hits the PAUSE button. The blue sky is returned to the birds and their flapping wings; waterways turn purer as no more crazy human running around and emitting pollution into them.  Even panda’s resume consummation. For the last 2,3 years, anthropogenic activities have caused large scale bushfires across north and south hemispheres; it happened even in Syberia above the North Pole. Human society is inflicting pains onto the lung of our Mother Earth. Isn’t it an irony that our respiratory system is succumbed to this coronavirus? I couldn’t help but wonder if this pandemic is the nature’s vengeance onto the arrogance of human race? So, here comes my second wish. One day as we come out of this pandemic, our peaceful moments with the nature will stick around a bit longer. Even though I know that humanity is terrible at reckoning with it own sin, I still wish this time, after all we have endured, we will finally learn to return the favour for our Mother Nature’s altruistic love. That we will be more reflective on our own behaviours, the impact that each of us have made onto anything outside of ourselves. You may say I am a dreamer, but I am definitely not and should not be the only one.

......

The world is suffering from its own bipolar disorder. To steer my way clear from the menaces, I rid myself of watching news during the weekends. But one still doesn't make the cut. As for a while, it is the only thing that people couldn't stop talking about: Donald Trump contemplates injecting/ingesting coronavirus patients with disinfectants, until the moment he made the next obnoxious statement. What's even more troubling is there was actually a slight increasing number of ER cases caused by internal administration of chemical solvent. Both New York Times and RB, the producer of Lysol and Dettol, had to make official announcement to talk people out of their desperate craze. One day I woke up and spit out this question: how is it even possibly happening? If B school has ever taught me anything, it is that leadership matters; and I dedicated most of my career contemplating how to be a good (future) leader. But nowadays, we are riding a perfect storm, while sinking down into a chasm called: the scum rises to the top. We are living in a reality that outruns the most ridiculous screenwriting of political drama. Not only have we got Trump assumed the most powerful position in this world, we don't seem capable of appropriating any countermeasures to dampen the damages. Although his strategy is nothing much different from that of a shameless politician: barking up the wrong trees to divert the public's attention further away from criticism against him, the impact however is way too profound to be left alone. He is dividing not only a country, also driving a wedge between friendly countries, when the only hope the world is left with is the hope of solidarity. 

The world is in urgent need of an assertive voice with a kind heart and a pair of potent hands. It cannot be done by one person, rather, has to be a collective conscience of all the human societies. The younger generation does not believe in institutions, they embrace anarchistic believes and have little problem of taking things to its extremity; but in the meantime, they are reasonable, way more objective and fairer than they are being judged or even portrayed. They believe in gender equality, inform themselves of cultural intricacy and they gather to rally for animal rights and climate change. For both reasons, their world needs leaders with integrity and convincing voices. In all appropriate times, we need to learn to be a leader for ourselves and for others. It is up to us how we are going to make our next decision, in giving an opinion, in executing right to vote, in influencing people around us and in doing smallest good deeds to hold onto each other. Here's an example. It is no strange thing to know that our doctors and nurses are working under tremendous physical and mental pressures. We've heard multiple cases in Italy and the US that medical staff committed suicide after virus contraction or nervous breakdown. In almost every country, people are finding ways to demonstrate their gratitude to their guardian angels; however news from India reads that doctors and nurses become target of discrimination, demonising them as virus itself. Similar discriminatory stories surface from time to time around the world against people from other countries or communities because of the pandemic. This shows how far off people could be dangerously biased and misled; the absence of a just and empathetic figure in the leadership attributes to and to a great extent severs the alienation. But we all could and should choose to lead. We can never let our guard down, ignoring any appalling ignorance, even with the slightest carelessness. We need to speak up, protect people who are protecting us and the world's most vulnerable's. We need to do it constantly, consistently and often enough. Bear in mind, our decision and undertaking of today will define our tomorrow in common. 

......

Alright, enough about the grim prospect and grievance. As far as being a hopeless optimist, I will complement my third wish with a faith in humanity after it all. Yesterday, I watched the season finale of Westworld. As Dolores sank down into her memory, she restated: "Some people choose to see the ugliness in this world. The disarray. I choose to see the beauty". I agree with every bit of those words. I believe the key to the sublime lies in ourselves and our conscience. In the end, true bravery is to love the world and humanity, despite the ugliness that we have seen or experienced. 

Before I let you go, I am inviting you to join me in paying tributes to all the essential workers who are risking their lives every day to keep ours running without panics. Next to our lovely doctors and nurses, here's to the infrastructure workers, the train conductors and bus drivers,  the supermarkets' staff, the logistics companies, the mailman, (especially my mailman, who brings me my 1,000 packages to fill the huge void in my soul), the journalists and newsmen, who are running all across the countries, strive to bring us brutal facts, inconvenient truths, disarray and hopes. Collectively you've prevented the world from crumpling, after the mess we made. I thank you for that! 

Please take care and stay healthy!

Love, R

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

In Your Hands

Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Pairing: Solavellan Characters: Solas, Tallin Lavallen (OC) Rating: Mature Words: ~4300 Alt. Site: AO3

Summary: Tallin ruminates on the first time Solas and her acted upon their urges. It hadn't been her original intent to seduce him on that fateful day, she swears by the gods it hadn't..

I still think about it, the first time you touched me. In bed, I mean.

It's shameful, I know, to hold it so close, to value it like I do. But I can't let it go, I can't.

I still don't know what I did that inspired you to do such a thing. All I know is that we were in the rotunda and I said something and then your eyes seemed to darken.

I was naive: I mistook it for anger, and I winced and looked away. As was habit when I was nervous, I began to gnaw on the second knuckle of my pointer finger. "Ah, sorry, if I said something wrong..I mean.." I murmured, my voice dying helplessly.

I heard you inhale, sharp. You pushed yourself off from the cluttered surface of your research table, rounded one of its corners and walked—stalked—no you didn't, you didn't frighten me, you wouldn't hurt me, I didn't mean to i-imply—no, I trust you, only you—walked up to me until we were only inches apart. My chest paused in its breath as I looked up into your face with unsure eyes and watched as your hard expression dissipated like storm clouds breaking away from the horizon. Somehow your features, strong and regal—like a prince, like a prince, you are like a prince but more than that!—could shift so subtly from stone to skin, tense and soften.

But stone, yes, stone was replaced by teacher, yes, teacher. Your eyes glanced down to my mouth and you gently took my finger from it. I let you, blushing hard in embarrassment, stammering out a weak apology. For what? For what. Was it exhausting, having to take care of me like this all the time? Having to mind me because I was not suited towards all - all of this?

"There are better ways to work off nerves, da'len." You intoned smoothly before lifting it to your own mouth to kiss the abrasions. Your lips were soft, warm, and I suddenly found myself wanting them on mine, but you had called me "da'len" and I felt shame overrule and flood me. It would be wrong to pursue you, to entertain such a childish need, when you were wearing the robe of mentor. Incestuous. You continued to speak, the sound far away like an echo. "Would you allow me to join you in your chambers?"

I swear to you I didn't know what you meant at first, I swear. Please believe me. I'm not..like that, I never - I never planned—! I-I didn't me-I didn't mean to entice you in that way. It was never my intent. Never. I - if you thought that, then - then, aha, you must think me smarter than I am. No, no I'm not...

I hadn't read the mood correctly. Would you think less of me if I said I was happy that I was wrong? About what eventually occurred?

My heart had lodged itself in my throat.

I was terrified, and you were so patient, so quiet, so gentle.

With trepidation I climbed the steps to my quarters with you following silently behind. I sensed a quiet energy from you, a sense of purpose that I was afraid to identify by name.

You did not assail me or sweep me off my feet when we got to the top of the stairs and rounded the banister. I would have screamed in fear, I think, and your plans would have been ruined. I surprise others before they surprise me because it is all too easy for them to do so. It's the reason why I tried to avoid Cole the first few weeks, you know.

I stood with my hands squeezed tightly at my sides, trying to remain calm, trying to take deep breaths as quietly as possible. Pressure on my sternum, against my cheeks, on the top of my head.

There was fear, there was real fear when you lifted my chin and quietly asked me if I would like to try out a method for relaxation.

It was at that point that I almost surely knew what you meant, and while one bubble in my chest began to quietly deflate—disappointment — another began to quietly swell—excitement — and yet another one quickly alongside it, nervousness.

Your smile did me no favors. Inviting and open and genial and with just a shade of mischief, the same darkness in your eyes that I now recognized as lust, not anger. I swallowed, parted my mouth to speak, and decided that I should kiss you instead.

It became another reason why I've come to the conclusion that I am insane.

I found myself in bed with you, us lying side by side, you leaning over me to cup my face and brush at my hair while we kissed. We kissed so much that my lips began to numb.

You met my mouth with staid practice. Before you I had never kissed anyone the way we did, and you taught me how to project my pleasure, my enjoyment of the act, to my partner. Giving in the act of receiving.

I wanted us to stay just like that, forever. Immature of me, foolish, but...

You didn't remove all my clothes, but did coax me out of my jacket.

Your other hand began to roam across my body, stroking down my side, my arm, my thigh. It didn't scare me, it didn't grope or demand but seemed to smooth over what I possessed, what seemed to attract you to me for some reason. Even though it was innocent, I felt heat pool between my legs. I tried so hard not to shift, not to let you know I was being affected so easily, that I was so desperate for us to be together like this.

You asked permission if you could touch me beneath my clothes. When I hesitated you kissed my forehead and said it was alright if I said no, you were perfectly fine with just this. You weren't. No man is. No man, no elf, no dwarf can possibly be fine with 'just this'.

And I wanted to, wanted to give you everything, to prove I trusted you, to show how much I loved you because I couldn't..I can't think of a better way..than to let you take from me, take everything you wanted. That's love, isn't it? Isn't it? Right? I had taken so much from you. Your attention, your time, your patience, your patience, your patience. You had early on established yourself as the fourth unmentioned adviser to the Inquisition, to me, and I never even asked.

But was this all a personal test by you? To see if I could ignore the heat in my cheeks and my loins that only served to distract me from the Breach? To determine if I would dirty myself by indulging in such base desires while you remained pure as a spirit, above such things..would I cut myself off from you like a blood mage from the Fade?..what would happen if I said 'yes'? Tempter, exam proctor, parent.

I didn't know what answer you wanted. I didn't know.

But I said yes, and you hesitated, asked if I was sure. I didn't expect you to ask a second time, I wasn't prepared...

"Please.." I whispered, "please..."

Your eyes were so kind. They reminded me of Mother. Gods, I am sick, depraved.

You slid your arm beneath my neck as you loomed over me, looked down upon me.

Your rightful place, rightful place.

You brushed a strand of hair from my pink face, traced the vallaslin that committed me to Dirthamen with your thumb, and asked me to open my mouth. I did and you slipped your tongue inside without resistance. I thought at the time this was how it should be.

You swallowed down my gasp and tolerated the way trembling fingers gripped the home-spun fabric on your shoulders when your hand quietly slipped inside my smallclothes.

Against my cheek you murmured, "Breathe, vhen'an. I won't hurt you."

I know, I remember thinking, I know it won't, but - but you are about to - to - touch - to touch—

Your fingers, pressed together, swept down in one motion, and in surprise I jolted as the act served to spread around the warm wetness I didn't realize had begun to collect between my legs.

I shook and shivered beneath you as terror and panic and pleasure and excitement swirled within me.

I wasn't ready...

..yet I wanted this..

I've waited so long..

But for what?

You picked up on the fearful note that stung a whimper I let out, and you disengaged yourself from sucking on my buzzing tongue. You did not hide your concern and bemusement. "What is wrong, vhen'an? Tell me."

How could I when I wasn't even rightly sure?

An old spark of mischief flashed in your eyes, then. I tried not to flinch. "Have you never touched yourself in this manner before?" You stroked up and down a few more times, slow and firm and heavy. Lewd sounds of slippery skin against slippery skin. Your teeth found my ear, nibbled.

"N-no, ne-never.."

A pleased hum. "Yet your body is so hungry for it." Why had you considered that a good thing? I don't understand.

You continued to purr similar, embarrassing things as you teased my body. Of how slick I was, of how your fingers were absolutely drenched, of how it would do me good if we were to schedule these sorts of private meetings more often. "I think twice a day would be sufficient, wouldn't you say?" Your thumb brushed up against what you later informed me was my clitoris and my hips bucked high, a shock of pleasure I didn't know was possible flaring up like a firecracker in my brain as I gasped.

You chuckled darkly and I wondered if I had been caught in a trap.

If I was, I didn't know how to escape.

If I was, I didn't know if I could.  

So for what seemed like years we listened to the heavy rhythm of my breathing as your fingers slowly circled upon that small bead. Such a simple motion, like stirring the surface of a pool of water. Every so often two sparks within me connected to make an overwhelming twinge of pleasure that had me momentarily stiffening with a silent gasp; your arm would tighten around me as a reminder that it was you and no one else here.

I wanted to curl up into a ball and hide from your gaze, and you must have intuited my lingering hesitation because your hand then gradually picked up speed. I began to whimper louder as you played with this part of me, and in pushing against it, you repeatedly lifted my lower body up briefly into the air. It was if I was being controlled by a puppeteer. It stole my breath, truly. I had never felt this before, I told you. I couldn't..couldn't stop. I don't think you wanted me to.

I was terrified of how swiftly my modesty was slipping away but...I wanted this. How needy and desperate had I been for this sort of touch? From you? No one else. I still can't pinpoint when the thought of you being a partner to me in this secret, private way was conceived.

But even then, how could I have told you that the one you called da'len—the one you were now calling vhen'an—had pined for you for some time, since near the beginning. How could I have told you of her initial efforts to strip her heart of tainting weeds out of fear they would rot away the bond of elder and pupil, of how after a time her hand purposely faltered, her eyes were consciously shielded by her hand and she allowed them to grow untouched until they had bore thick, confusing roots that constricted and choked.

I turned my head to find refuge in your chest, to hide my shame. I thought I could calm myself with the scent that clung to your sweater—moss, old papers, something metal that settled on my tongue. I thought I could somehow will away the throbbing, the ball of heat that had long since nestled deep in my hips and only seemed to grow larger with your efforts. I was so embarrassed, so so so embarrassed of how - how - how—I can barely say it, even now—wet I was, how obvious and pathetic.

But if I didn't see your face, I could pretend it was my hand, even though I had never touched myself in such a way before. Do you believe me? It's true. I swear. You were my first in everything. Everything.

Despite wanting, despite wanting wanting wanting, I held my body as stiff as I could, mortified that it was so easily responding like this to you, lewd and begging. Self-control, that's what you always preached, what you always practiced. You never drank more than a glass at meal times, you did not return cruelty with cruelty, you rarely if ever spoke in anger.

I was failing. You were measured and precise in your touches, your breathing hadn't changed its pace, not by much, and yet I had begun fraying immediately from less than nothing. I was failing in my desire to avoid being seen as indulgent, fulsome even though I wanted this, wanted this so much.

'What are you afraid of, Tallin?" You spoke directly into my ear, husky in its warm darkness. Wicked promises, intentions, that were forming as I breathed. You were transforming just as I was. Something stiff was pressing against my outer thigh, something frightening and strange. In the back of my mind, dread began to fall and fill like black blood.

I had been turning you, tempting you all this time, hadn't I? Had I? I never - I never intended - I'm so sorry-

"Do not apologize," I winced at your scolding tone, and then whimpered when I realized I had spoken that apology out loud. "Never apologize when we're like this."

I tried to explain, I tried so hard, but you proceeded to interrupt my train of thought with expertly-timed swirls around my clitoris. It seemed every time I was about to complete a word your middle finger was there to press down and wiggle on that small bud like you were worrying a string on a zither fret, persisting until I abandoned my efforts to speak. "Should-ohh-dn't - I shou—ahh, should—aah! You—mmm! I'm sor-ahh, so- ahaaah ahh! Ahh! Ahh!!"

You managed to make yourself heard over my moans, your tone lilting now with compassion. "You have not been honest with me or yourself since we began." Your hand paused as you leaned down to tenderly kiss away my frustrated tears. "Don't hide yourself, Tallin. This is alright, you are allowed to feel this. There is no shame in it."

I felt my face twist up and I brought my hand up to prevent a sob from escaping. How were you always able to pin despair and graciousness to my heart?

I found myself whispering, babbling really. "You're giving..you're always giving..I - I'm - I can't.." The words died. I couldn't save them.

You held my face and kissed me. Against my lips you implored, "Tell me."

My teeth were chattering, yet my face burned, felt so hot I was surprised I wasn't steaming. "—I'm afraid, I'm afraid that - that—"

Kiss. "Tell me."

"I love you, Solas. I love you, but I..."

Kiss. "Tell me."

I didn't. Not everything. Not even a sliver of anything. I couldn't. I tried, please believe me when I say I tried.

"Please, pl-please, please Solas, pl-e-ase..do you feel the same? Truly? I love you so much and I can't—please, I need to know. I can't - I can't - I'm not like this - it's only you - the one I want. I love you, IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.." I sucked in a lungful of air, yet it didn't seem to make any difference. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe. "..so mu-u-ch. So much. And I trust you but—"

"But?" Soft and smooth.

"Don't—" My hands clenched, my jaw practically creaked as I crushed down what felt like the birth of a hysterical wail before it could leave my mouth. "Please. Don't do this if you don't feel the same. Please."

You listened—you always listen—as I threw out what I could to make you understand. I didn't think, then and now, that I did myself justice. It has crossed my mind that you would be here right now holding me had I said nothing...I don't eat much anymore for fear of retching at the idea.

You stared in that way of yours, that gravely serious way that felt like your eyes were chisels and I was a block of stone to be broken to pieces. Not breaking my gaze, you took one of my hands—your fingers were wet, the scent of me now wafted in the air—and guided it to your crotch. I couldn't help it, I shuddered. My hand trembled as it registered through the fabric how hard you were. This part of you that remained obscure, that I knew of in vague theory but not practice.

"I do." you answered. "This—" you pressed my hand harder against yourself and I was struck by the heat that emanated from it, "—is but one symptom of many. Believe me, for both our sakes, when I say I love you. Deeply. Truly."

You kissed away the new set of tears that then began to fall, ones of overwhelming relief.

"Oh, S-Solas, I—" and in my effort to better find your mouth, I unthinkingly pressed the heel of my hand against your groin for leverage. It was clumsy of me, and the growl in your throat made me shrink back. I had never heard you make that sound before, guttural and low, animalistic. You turned away and closed your eyes tightly, working your jaw as if mentally overcoming some indescribable pain.

I retracted my hand as if burned. "I'm sorry," I whispered quickly, "did I—"

"No!" I recoiled from the severity of your voice, the harshness it bore upon me. Near-fatal silence except for the sound of you taking air into your lungs. Fighting off something, something I had caused..

Before the pieces could fall into place—did you ever find my ignorance insufferable?—your face smoothed over, consternation dripping away. "I am alright." A rueful smile that didn't quite reach your eyes as you tipped your chin down to look back at me. "One day I will teach you how to reciprocate your feelings, if you so desire.." As you spoke your face hardened again into a predatory facade, the one that still sends chills down my spine when I think back on this time. "..tonight, however, I devote myself solely to your deserved pleasure."

And with that you once again crashed your mouth against mine and now there was urgency, almost desperation. Had you wanted to prove your altruism that badly?

Your hand remained stoic as it returned to that place between my legs to manipulate me as before, but I was so alight and so keen that I had was stripped of the capacity to care if my hips rose up to greet your fingers with the enthusiasm you must have been waiting for me to surrender to all this time.

My moan buzzed in your mouth when you eventually slipped them inside of me, first one, then a second joining in just as effortlessly when you received no initial semblance of protest from me and or my body. You pushed in until your palm would allow you to go no further. There was no time to ask how you knew to do such a thing at that exact moment. It was a new but welcome feeling. A new and gratifying feeling that I wanted to expand into forever.

Another pained groan from you when my body contracted reflexively to better accommodate you. "Fenedhis." You cursed. "So hot..so tight." Your admiration had been tinged with bitterness. You regretted making the promise not to go further with me than that. I know. I wish I had been brave enough to encourage you otherwise.

You pulled your hand back, and I shuddered as the pads of your fingers dragged heavily against the parts of me we could not behold except through touch: I was soft. I was wet. I was swollen.

Your arm around me squeezed, and upon receiving a nod from me, you slid them back in, and then out and in, and then out and in and out until direction became meaningless, until my mind had devolved into nothing but a sponge fervent in its need for nothing but more.

More. More. More. More. More. More. More. More.

"M-More," I pleaded, and I had enough sense to regret it as soon as the request left my lips. To ask for such a thing when you had already indulged such greed and conceit within me. Even so, my throat tightened at the possibility that you might stop. Oh gods, I would die if you stopped then. I would die, just die. I had to tell you, I had to continue to be selfish and shameless to prevent myself from suffering. "M-more, please..Solas, p-please. Please do-don't sto-o-p.."

"Shh shh." Another heavy kiss before you located my ear and began to spill hurried reassurances into it. "I won't, I won't. Trust me, I won't. Shh, my love, shh." You mirrored your promise in earnest, quickly setting a steady, pleasurable rhythm that filled the room with the sloppy sounds you were making against my folds, the way your palm sent light shocks to my clit as it lightly slapped against my mound with a trusted repetition.

More than that, there was something inside me that you were brushing against. You seemed to know where to look for it and you were focusing all your attentions on making sure your fingers were passing against it with every thrust. My head had fallen back onto the pillow. Chin tilted up, I had begun to pant.

"Beautiful." I recall you murmuring that against my throat at some point. I don't know how I could have possibly heard: I was breathing so hard, my blood was pounding so loudly in my ears. "You are so beautiful. My beautiful—my most precious.." Why had your voice carried such notes of guilt? "Ar lath, 'ma vhen'an. Lathan na.. Deeply, truly..."

And all the while, this whole time, something was building. Something I instinctively knew I wanted to reach, something that whispered promises of good. But what was it? What were you searching for within me?

My legs were shaking, I was shaking. I was incoherently mewling. I was so close. "Ah! Solas - Solas-it's - I'm -"

"Garas." you commanded before your teeth gently clamped down on the point where my shoulder and neck connected. You pressed hard and firm on my clit with your thumb for emphasis.

My back bowed and I gasped. One second there was nothing, absolutely nothing, and the next I was wailing as I was barraged by a tidal wave of ecstasy. Heat that wasn't heat but bloomed throughout me like a spring flower, or the rays of the sun. It was almost too much, this bliss, and I made it well known to you.

I can't describe it better, I'm sorry, I'm not as poetic as Cole.

In one smooth motion you slipped your fingers out of me and then pressed down on my hips when they bucked instinctively at the loss. "Ohh..!"

As my—I'm sorry I can't say the word, I just, I just can't—as my..core continued to throb, my whole body twinged with it, but in its wake I felt such a warmth, such fuzziness begin to replace it.

As your hand slid up my form, caressing, lightly kneading out the remaining twitches, a sleepy melancholy loomed, threatening to consume the euphoria you had gifted me.

I wanted..I wanted..

"Solas.."

Your voice was so quiet and you were already kissing my face all over. "What do you need of me, what is it?"

I sighed, my eyes briefly fluttering closed. My fears had been rendered silent for the moment. Everything felt so clear, and yet there was a hazy ball of yearning and exhaustion I was tempted to sate.

My hand reached up to stroke along your cheekbone. You returned the faint smile I somehow managed to make, and oh, oh your eyes..there was such quiet adoration. Of me. Like Mother.

"Stay here..with, with me." I glanced away, wincing at my directness. Force of habit. "Please."

Your soft laugh wrapped around me like a blanket. Secure. Safe.

"I will."

Then, my worn epithet: "I love you, Solas."

Your eyes—Mother's eyes—drank me in. There was an Antivan word Josephine taught me, I forgot what it was I'm sorry, that translated to 'loving-kindness'. I'm sorry, the thought came to me.

"I love you, Tallin Lavellan."

Do you remember?

You guided my head to your chest and laughed again when I nestled myself as close to you as possible, uncharacteristically eager. "Always." You promised. You promised. You promised.

The odd necklace you wore, the jawbone of some creature with fangs, stuck between our chests. Hard, like what continued to press against the inside of your breeches and my leg. You pretended it didn't exist, and so I did the same.

I fell asleep while you murmured repeated praises of me in my hair. Some of them Common, some Elvhen. But you used words I had never heard of, words that barely resembled the speech of my people. Old and archaic, it felt like.

If I were to approach you now, would you tell me what they meant?

[timetravelingheart]

My Side of the Fence Part Three: A.M. Imagine

I know it has been a while, but these next few chapters in the build-up have really stumped me. They’re just not the exciting parts, you know? But I did my best and I hope that you are all still interested in going along in this journey! Also, for being just a build-up, this turned out to be obnoxiously long and I’m sorry! I’m the most wordy person. 

Still no big warnings for this one. Also, I should disclose that I know next to nothing about figure skating schedules or times, Skate Canada, or anything of the like. I’m just a huge fan of the sport and thought it fit well with this story to give the character a career that also takes up a lot of her time and life. Sorry if anyone is frustrated by any errors in that particular area! 

In the week that Auston spent in Arizona, he had thought of asking Mitch for Savannah’s number no fewer than five hundred times. It was his first thought every morning, on his mind constantly throughout the day, and his last thought before he finally fell into a restless sleep. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual, and even that was saying a lot. His parents noticed that he seemed more restless than usual, but didn’t quite know how to approach it. His mother was concerned; his father confused. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed in his childhood bedroom, Auston held his phone in his massive hands and typed, erased, and re-typed variations of the same message over and over again on his phone to Mitch. Frustrated, he groaned loudly and threw himself back on the bed, covering his eyes with his tattooed forearm. How is possible that this girl he met for literally one night was worth this stress? He had already received countless offers for ‘meet-ups’ with girls in his hometown, some from high school, and some who he knew from running in the same circles as his friends. They were all attractive girls with bright white smiles and glowing tans from the Arizona sunshine, and were all girls he absolutely would have been interested in six months ago. Hell, probably even two months ago. But he didn’t want a random hook-up anymore. He was used to getting a release pretty regularly, so maybe that’s why he’s even more frustrated than usual currently, but he really wanted to have something like what Mitch and Steph had, what Jake and Lucy had, and eventually something like what Patty and Christina had. 

He wanted someone to come home to after a tough game or a road trip and just fall into her arms and feel safe. To find a home in someone else that he so desperately craved now. He wanted to find someone who would listen to his fears and vulnerabilities without judgement, someone who would call him on his shit (other than Mitch of course), someone who would love him for who he was and not the sport he played or the money he had. And more than he even wanted to have that kind of love, he wanted to give that kind of love to someone. 

And even though it sounded absolutely, positively, undeniably insane, he felt like that this kind of love was a real possibility with Savannah. And not just someone like Savannah, but Savannah specifically. 

Rolling over onto his stomach, he reached for his phone again and opened his message thread with Mitch. Before he could start typing, his phone vibrated with a new group message invite from Steph. Huh. 

Steph: Hey everyone! Wanted to send out a quick invite to Savannah’s upcoming Stars on Ice show. It’s Friday night at the Scotiabank Arena. Sav says she can probably get us some tickets, but we just need a headcount so let me know if you’re interested! 

Auston couldn’t help but grin like an idiot. This was the perfect opportunity to see her again without coming off as desperate, and without relegating himself to asking Mitch, which was likely to turn into its own version of insufferable hell for the near future. His phone vibrated again as messages from his teammates started to pour through. 

Mitch: I think I know someone who would for sure be interested... 

Fucking hell. He really needed a new best friend. Maybe he should hang out with Tkachuk and Eichel more. 

Actually, scratch that. Either they would be ten times worse than Mitch and actually call him out on his crush in front of his crush, or they would just hit on her themselves. Both thoughts made his whole body flame with two very different emotions. His phone vibrated again. 

Morgan: Definitely in! And Mitchy, leave Matts alone. Any guy with eyes would be stupid not to be attracted to Savannah. 

Kasperi: As much as we’d love to support Savannah, and see Matts squirm, Willy and I won’t be back in the city until the week after! 

Jake: Lucy is currently begging me to say yes. She is apparently obsessed with figure skating (who knew) and is dying to meet THE Savannah Lane. So, I guess you can put us down for two! 

Connor: I’m in, but Zach and I already have tickets sitting with McDavid. Also, Matts has a thing for Savvy? Fuck, McDavid is going to have a fucking field day with this.  

Auston read through each message carefully, rolling his eyes at his teammates’ lame attempts at getting under his skin, and in Mo’s case, his weak attempt at defending him. They all know now, so he might as well own it, right?

Auston: I’m in. 

He went to close the message thread, but thought better of it. 

Auston: And also, fuck all of you. 

Steph: Oh Matty. Let me just say that you are not the first, nor will you be the last, unwitting guy to fall head over heels for my best friend upon meeting her one time. It’s what she refers to as both her gift and her curse. Anyway, I’ll make sure to get tickets for Auston, Morgan, Jake, and Lucy! See you all there! 

Well, Auston thought, hopefully this would be his chance to see Savannah again and get a read on her. He wanted to ask her out on a date, but something about her made him nervous. He was intimidated by a tiny blonde in figure skates. What the fuck. 

** 

Auston had been back in Toronto for almost a week and still had not seen Savannah. According to Steph, who kept him informed without him even having to ask (”I just thought you’d be interested” she said, with a knowing gleam in her eye that would have normally bothered Auston had he not been so thankful for her openness) Savannah was busy with show rehearsals, while also getting back into competition with meetings with Skate Canada, her coaches and choreographers, costume designers, mental prep coach, trainers, and all of the things that Auston did not even know were involved with figure skating. Basically, he wanted to see her and couldn’t. 

So here he stood, wearing black skinnies with holes in the knees, a white tee, black bomber jacket, black and white sneakers, and a black baseball cap, and waiting in the arena who knew like the back of his hand. Steph mentioned that they wouldn’t be able to see Savannah before the show, but that she made sure to invite everyone backstage after. Auston had debated with himself about bringing her flowers (do they do that for these kinds of performances?) but immediately nixed the idea when he remembered the look of hesitation on Savannah’s face when he had merely offered her his hoodie. He still didn’t know why she was hesitant, but he also didn’t want to push or cross any of her boundaries before he really knew anything about that side of her. 

Looking up at his group’s sudden movements, he spotted Connor McDavid, Brown, and Hyman walking towards them. Reaching out to each of them do a quick shake and half hug, Auston immediately felt the amused stare of McDavid. “So I hear you fell for it,” McDavid grinned. Shaking his head, Auston fought to keep a similar grin off of his own face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” McDavid let out a bark of laughter, clearly amused by Auston’s denial. “Don’t sweat it man. She has that affect on just about everyone.” 

The smile on Auston’s face faltered. Who else was in this situation with her before? “She has never really reciprocated anyone else’s feelings though, at least not any hockey players.” Auston let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “She has a thing against hockey players?” he felt himself asking before he could stop himself. “Nah, she just was either already in a relationship or too focused on skating to even notice or care that anyone was interested.” 

Auston made a mental note to ask Connor more about Savannah and her dating history, or lackthereof, when they were alone.

“Are we all ready to go in?” Steph, arm hooked in Lucy’s, addressed the group. “The show starts soon.” 

Hours later, after each performer skated a final lap and took a bow, the group of hockey players and significant others made their way backstage to wait for their star skater. Auston, not really one to watch figure skating before this event, was mesmerized by Savannah. Her group routines to ranged from comedic and sassy to sexy and sultry. And while he loved seeing those versions of her, it was her solo routine to Landslide that affected him the most. It was one of the most beautiful moments he had ever witnessed and heard - or perhaps felt - the chorus of ‘wows’ from his friends and the strangers around him at the end. 

She was an absolute star, and he wanted nothing more than to continue watch her shine brightly. 

After waiting about twenty minutes, the cast finished up their meet and greets with fans and started making their way to their respective families and friends waiting for them. Savannah was now changed into simple black leggings, a Stars on Ice sweater that swallowed her petite frame, black and white Nikes, hair up in a high ponytail, and not a hint of makeup on her face. She looked relaxed, yet elated. Auston thought no one had ever looked more beautiful. 

Savannah’s smile stretched further across her features as she reached their group. “I can’t believe you all came!” She wrapped each person up in as big of a hug as her short arms could manage, stopping briefly to be introduced to Jake and Lucy for the first time, and lastly turned to Auston. Her smile remained just as warm, but something flickered quickly and faded before Auston could place a name on it, and soon enough she was wrapping her arms around his middle to pull him into a soft hug. “Long time no see,” he whispered into her hair as his nose briefly grazed the top of her head. She smiled up at him again, that same flicker there and gone in a flash, before she turned to address the whole group. 

“Did you enjoy the show?” she asked as if she were genuinely concerned that they did not have a good time. “I know figure skating isn’t really that interesting for most of you.” 

“You were phenomenal!” Lucy gushed, as if she had been keeping her excitement bottled up inside for far too long. “Landslide made me cry!” Savannah blushed profusely as Jake pulled Lucy into a side hug. “She’s been talking about you non-stop ever since Steph mentioned that you were moving here and that she was friends with you,” he offered as a way of explanation for his wife’s unbridled joy. 

“That’s so kind of you! Landslide has always held such a special place in my heart. And Steph has told me all about the wonderful partners she’s met and become friends with in the Leafs family, so I was really excited to finally meet you!” 

“She actually choreographed Landslide herself,” Steph couldn’t help but boast about her best friend, knowing that she would never do it for herself. Savannah was confident in her abilities and proud of her success, but she was not one to brag about her accomplishments or even her skillset. 

“That’s incredible!” Morgan turned to her in amazement. “I can’t even begin to imagine what would go into something like that.”

“Thank you, but I’ve had a lot of help along the way to learn the ins and outs of choreography for performances like that. Choreographing for competition is much more challenging, and I haven’t done anything like that yet except give a few ideas here or there.”

“You were amazing,” Auston felt the need to say something, anything, to have her look at him again. So, he opted for complete honesty. Everyone turned to look at him, most with knowing smiles on their faces, Savannah with surprise. “Thank you, Auston. That means a lot.” Savannah’s eyes lingered on his for a moment longer than necessary, as if she were searching for answers to questions neither of them felt ready to ask. 

“So tell me, Sav,” Mitch started conspiratorially, “what kind of underwear do male skaters wear to hide their bulge?” 

The entire group groaned loudly, finally starting to head for the exit. As Steph and Lucy swatted at Mitch, the rest of the crew followed along laughing and joking around. Auston and Savannah held back a bit, just the two of them at the end of the line. 

“So since you’re going to be hanging out with us, I think it’s probably best that we add you to our group chat,” Auston held out his phone to Savannah. “Put your number in and I’ll add you so you can join the rest of us in making fun of Mitchy.” 

Savannah didn’t laugh like he thought she would, or reach for his phone right away. Instead, she kept her gaze forward for a moment, before turning to look at him with wide, questioning eyes. Careful, she thought. 

Just when Auston thought he had overstepped or come on too strong, she reached out for his phone and quickly typed in her number. 

“As if I would ever not want to be part of a group that tears the piss out of Mitchy on a regular basis!” she laughed, and Auston felt his heart squeeze. What a woman. 

[saviourisms]

Trying To Survive

@captkillianjcnes

Emma had been dating Killian since high school and while they fought like any other couple, they stayed together all through college. The four years they were together while in college proved to be the most challenging as he moved several states away to pursue his career in the degree he would be getting. Florida had been the state of choice and while she knew that it would more than likely be on his radar, it was still a challenge to have their relationship turn long distance. They broke up once because of it only to come back together, visiting each other during breaks and spending summers together taking turns by commuting for the summer.

Emma stayed in Maine as she had been given a scholarship for her degree in criminal justice. At the start of each semester, Emma couldn't help but count the days remaining until each break. She missed Killian more than verbalizing could even express, often getting frustrated with men on campus who didn't seem to care that she was dating someone else. Her responses only showed just how much Emma loved Killian, wanting to honour and respect him even when he lived several states away.

"I'm not interested."

"I have a boyfriend." 

"Leave me alone." 

Those were just a few of her responses to those who didn't know how to take no for answer, not until Killian was physically by her side when he visited her and his old hometown 

In 2010, Thanksgiving break proved to be the most memorable one for her. Emma made sure to set aside her entire week to be with the man she loved to celebrate their anniversary, seven years together. It left Emma speechless that they had been together since freshman year in high school, not counting the short break they took when Killian moved away. Emma wanted to visit their old hangouts, try to find the tree on their high school grounds where they shared their first kiss under... Emma wasn't one to be sentimental and yet Killian had always brought that side out of her. 

The week had come to an end and as Emma begged him to move back home and be with her, they were able to make love and focus on each other one last time. "I want to marry you." She mentioned shortly after once she placed her head on his bare chest. "That's what I want. To marry you after we graduate, to be together for the rest of our lives. I don't know how much longer I can take not seeing you every day." 

At first, Emma was afraid to bring up the topic of marriage, but they had been dating for seven years. Wouldn't that have to come up in conversation anyway? It had to sometime, right? And when Killian only agreed to the idea, Emma couldn't help but kiss him as her mind thought of their future together, her wedding playing so perfectly in her mind. It was the last memory she had with Killian before dropping him off at the airport the next morning, before getting home in the afternoon and watching the latest news report of two people acting insane. Before.. before the world she once new fell to shit around her. It was like the world changed overnight and it quite literally did, her friend waking her up panicking because riots on their street were happening. It lead to her packing the necessities and watching as her neighbours panicked. Screams could have been heard for miles as she watched as some attacked each other, blood everywhere only to watch as her roommate she could have sworn was behind her be taken and devoured by another human being. 

"Ruby!" Emma went running after her roommate, her best friend... but the sound of her scream for her friend's name only encouraged the people that seemed to be in a trance walk towards her. She drove off, drove to her parents... but the sight there was just as bad, if not worse than what it looked like on her block. 

What is happening?! Where are my parents? 

"Mom?! Dad?!" Emma ran into their home and began searching every room, but it wasn't until she came back into the living room that she saw her father sitting on the floor with her mother in his arms. "Dad? No.." Mary Margaret had died from injuries to her head as her father informed her, sacrificing herself when two people came into their home unresponsive to his demands to leave. Who are these people? What are they? Several came staggering into the neighbourhood after that as Emma noticed from the window, immediately closing and locking the front door soon after. Her attention turned to her father as she yelled at him that they had to leave, to get out of the town, the city... get someplace safe. "You can bring mom if you want, we can bury her when we’re safe. We can't stay here, Dad! Please!" Emma accepted that her father wouldn't leave, accepted that she would die alongside him, but it was that realization that made David come back to reality. The small herd of... "people" were approaching their home, which provided them with a few minutes to get back into her car and leave. They left unscathed and with no direction in mind, Emma continued to drive south in hopes of finding a safe haven. 

They found a safe place to call home for a few days outside the city where they buried Mary Margaret, meeting some kind people on the road once they ran out of gas and were forced to walk in the days and weeks that follow, where they cautious of their surroundings. They soon realized that the "people" that were unresponsive to them were flesh eaters... dead coming back to life, infecting those that were alive with a fever that killed them in the end, to make them like the dead walking around them. It felt like a nightmare and one that no one could ever wake up from. 

As they moved further south as the months turned into years, Emma never once allowed the necklace that held Killian's most precious ring leave her body. Emma never stopped thinking about Killian as she remained by her father's side, determined to make her way to Florida with hopes of finding Killian alive and well. That was when they stumbled into Alexandria and continued walking mindlessly. Hunger and exhaustion overcame them and if they didn't find a safe haven soon, Emma knew they would be too weak to defend themselves against walkers or people.

And when they needed it the most, when they need a safe haven... someplace to call home instead of constantly having to be on the run, Emma noticed a gated community and couldn't help but cry. The people welcomed her and David without question, which Emma found to be odd despite her weakened state. She had experienced what it was like being with bad people and being so desperate now made her vulnerable. 

Despite such a concern her father also shared, the community was one they could call home. They still had homes that weren't damaged, still had power... the taste of an iced tea soothed her. The majority of the people that lived there since the outbreak begin carried on the old life she once knew, which Emma couldn't help but feel like that was a lapse in judgement on their part. The dead and bad people will always find a way in. It was a thought a new group that came in after they did share as well, which was why Emma bonded faster with them rather than Deanna and her group.

In time, Emma grew close with both sets of groups, Rick's and Deanna's. Everyone seemed to value and respect Emma and her opinions alongside Rick's due her background that was so similar to his. Emma found herself befriending Maggie and Glenn, their friendship meant the world to her and one she would risk her life for if the opportunity came. Emma forgot what it was like to trust more people than her father, to call people friends... family. It was why Emma didn't hesitate in volunteering to go with Glenn, Rosita, Daryl, Michonne, Abraham, Rick, Sasha, Aaron, Carl, and Eugene... her friends to bring Maggie to Hilltop. Maggie was having complications with her pregnancy and the last thing Emma wanted was to lose another person, a baby... a life that would be a gift to a chaotic world around them. 

They were heading for Hilltop to see the doctor there and yet fate had other plans. Each way they went was blocked off and whistling sounds came to their ears. That was when they saw a few members of the Saviour's at a few roadblocks, making it impossible for them to find a way to Hilltop as obstacles came between them. I'm not going to let Maggie and the baby die. 

When Rick suggested that Eugene take the RV and leave as a distraction, Emma agreed to his request to go with them through the woods. He believed it would be safer than trying to fight their way through other obstacles, but they needed to remain cautious of the walkers that could potentially surprise them.  "No guns. Knives only." Rick ordered, everyone nodding in agreement. 

That's when they heard whistling again and it resulted in the group picking up their pace, but they were caught off guard as lights blinded them. They were trapped with no chance of escaping without someone getting hurt, killed... or all of them, for that matter. Emma immediately scanned their surroundings and saw that the RV had been captured, Eugene on his knees in front of them. 

"Good. You made it." A figure from the shadows came into the light. "Welcome to where you're going. I'll take your weapons now."  "We can talk about this." Emma looked over at Rick as he spoke, as he tried to create a deal with the Saviour's. 

"It's not the time to talk." The man grinned, "It's time to listen." Without asking for their weapons a second time, he nodded for some of the group to remove the weapons from them. Emma's back was currently facing the RV where someone from her past was in plain sight. 

The man made everyone get on their knees in a straight line once they helped Maggie first. Emma couldn't help but notice Rick's expression of terror on his face and that was when she started to worry. He never shows fear. That's when Emma turned to face the RV as the same man approached her. "I need you on your knees." He told her, "Which is something I think a pretty thing like yourself has experience in doing, right?" It was a filthy joke that he couldn't help but laugh over. She wanted to say something and yet someone caught her eye, a man from her past she believed to be dead once the outbreak began. K... Killian?! Emma's eyes widened and she desperately wanted to run to him, to throw herself into his arms and kiss him. She couldn't. She couldn't react and risk the well-being of one of her friends. He's alive? Killian is alive?

"Let's meet the man!" That's when Emma learned the man that taunted her and the rest of her friends was only second in command to the man she heard so much about. As Emma watched the door of their RV opening and the boots of Negan coming into the light, that's when Emma finally got to put a face to the infamous name. 

"Have we pissed in our pants yet?" Negan asked with a smirk as a weapon, a bat she assumed, wrapped in some kind of wire resting on his shoulder. "Boy, do I have a feeling we're getting close." He approached the group and began pacing back and forth. "It's going to be pee-pee city real soon here, I think. Which one of you pricks is the leader?" 

"This one. He's the guy." 

"You're Rick, right? I'm Negan." He smirked, "And I don't appreciate you and your friends killing my men. Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is, but I think you're going to be up to speed here shortly." 

That's when Emma could feel her body shaking as she looked at Negan before glancing briefly at Killian. 

"You are so going to regret crossing me in a few minutes. This is the New World order, are you ready? Pay attention." Emma was right beside Abraham and watched as Negan brought his bat inches from Rick's face. "Give me your shit or I will kill you. Today was career day. We invested a lot so that you can know who I am," Negan grinned as he walked down the line, "and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That's your job. You built something. You thought you were safe, I get it. But the word is out, you are not safe. Not even close. In fact, you are pegged, more pegged if you don't do what I want."

Emma clenched her hands and lips together as she watched Negan walk over to Maggie. "You look shitty! I should just put you out of your misery right now." Emma closed her eyes as she heard Glenn's cry, begging Negan not to hurt her. 

"Get him back in line. Don't any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down, no exceptions! First one's free. It's an emotional moment, I get it." Negan paced back and forth more. "I gotta pick somebody but I simply cannot decide." 

Emma couldn't help as her body began to shake more, her eyes falling onto Killian again. 

"I got an idea!" Negan walked over to Maggie again and pointed his bat at her and continued down the line. "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Catch a tiger by... his toe. If... he hollers let him go. My mother told me to pick the very best one and you... are... it." 

It. 

Negan had ended with the bat pointing directly at Emma as she looked at him with fear in her eyes, eyes looking over at Killan as she began to shake. It was her. After everything she had been through, after fighting so long and hard to get to Killian only to see him standing on the other side of the group that surrounded them... It wasn't fair. 

"Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the other boy's eye out and feed it to his father. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you're all going to be doing that." With Negan extending his bat above Emma's head, Emma closed her eyes only to hear the bat hitting the person beside her. Abraham! 

“Look at that! Taking it like a champ!”

Emma couldn’t help but scream as she watched a man she loved like family, someone she came to respect to highly fall victim to Negan’s bat. “No! Stop it!”

[looselucy]

MA / 6179 words

One / Two / Three

Childhood friends - February 2017

Part One

Haz: Are you here yet? Lulu: Yes, I’ve landed. I’m just waiting for my bag. Have a little patience. Haz: Hurry up. Lulu: I literally, physically, cannot speed this process up. Fuck off. Haz: HURRY UP LITTLE LULU LAMB!

Lulu: Okay I’ve got it, shut up. I need your address for the cab. (Look how American I am. I used the word cab!) Haz: No need. I’m outside. Hurry up. I found myself blushing as I shoved my phone into the pocket of my jeans, furious that I’d dressed for the gloomy weather that the UK had to offer rather than the blinding sun that LA was giving me. I stumbled awkwardly through the airport, following the crowd and hoping they were all heading in the same direction I was, my heavy bag thrown over my shoulder and nerves rattling through my bones. I had been trying not to think of the situation too much due to how completely bizarre it was. I was actually in LA, to spend Harry’s birthday with him, and his friends. That was actually happening. It had been different since I was with him in London only a week before. We’d spoken constantly since I left, texting back and forth like we weren’t going to see each other again in just a matter of days compared to the months and years we used to go without interacting. I’d been trying to convince myself things were still casual. I’d been trying to convince myself that I felt casual and that I wasn’t finding myself feeling more and more attached to him with each text and each smile and each kiss we’d shared, but the moment I walked through the airport doors and saw him I knew I couldn’t keep up with my own inner lies. He looked amazing, a giant grin aching his cheeks as soon as he spotted me, silver Mercedes with the top down and sun heavy on his tanned skin. He had one arm stretched and dangling over his seat, lifting his sunglasses to greet me with kind eyes as I approached the car. “Hi.” I cooed, hoping my cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Welcome to LA!” He cheered, arms held high. “Happy Birthday!” I threw my bag into the back before quickly joined him in the front. “Thanks.” He smiled before starting up the engine, getting us out of there as soon as possible. I was surprised he’d come to pick me up, roof down and everything. I imagined the paps to pretty much live on every street corner of LA, and the airport must have been one of their prime spots. I’m sure Harry knew how they worked more than I did, and he probably knew he was safe to get me without any repercussions, but he still seemed in a rush to get away. “How’ve you been?” I asked. “I’ve been good. Weathers good. I’m good. I’m older now, wiser, few wrinkles. I’m great! How are you?” There was something exceedingly pleasant in his voice that day, even more so than usual. Maybe it was because he was happier than usual, or maybe it was because I was finally admitting to myself that I was feeling something that I’d promised myself I wouldn’t. “Wiser?” I huffed, ignoring his question. “Don’t you have to be wise in the first place to become wiser?” “I am wise!” He yelped. “You know I’m wise! Don’t deny my wise-ness.” “Not sure that’s a word.” “It’s a word only us wise people use. You’d know if you were older.” “I’ll be the same age in like, a month!” I cried. “I will always be a month older than you, therefore, wiser than you. Just admit it.” “Never.” It felt a little surreal, cruising upon foreign concrete with the sun warming every inch of my skin. I was surprised by how relaxed I felt, like somehow, I was returning home rather than arriving somewhere I’d never been before. It was like things were familiar. Like I was at peace. I closed my eyes and breathed it all in, lolling my head back as we journeyed to what I imagined to be one of Hollywood’s most idyllic locations. Harry’s life baffled me, especially considering our lives had once been exceedingly similar. “Missed you.” He commented out of the blue, making me shoot my eyes open again. “It’s been less than a week!” I screeched. “I know, but still.” He shrugged. “Glad you’re here.” “Glad to be here.” “Didn’t you miss me?” “You wish.” I huffed. In a way, I had. I wasn’t even sure how it was possible, really, but I had been craving his company since the second I was out of it. I’d been trying so hard not to overthink, not to let myself get carried away, not to think about the colour of his eyes, because my mother always told me that they’re the one part of the body that you shouldn’t allow yourself to fall in love with. ‘Because once you do, you’re fucked’ she’d say. I believed that. But his eyes were this insane green, the kind of green that made me feel as though I was trapped within an endless summer. His eyes suited the warmth of LA, I thought, admiring his profile as he drove us to his home, but they also suited Holmes Chapel, which held a different warmth. It held the warmth of our childhood together, the warmth of our memories and a tiny village consisting of old brick buildings and family around every corner. I needed his eyes to be LA. Foreign. Fleeting. I didn’t want his eyes to be home. “I find it so weird that you live here.” I hushed, gazing around at our surroundings as we travelled. “Occasionally.” He tried to brush it off. “I’m an occasional resident. I don’t live here, not really.” “You’re desperate to be seen as a British star, but you fucked us off years ago.” I sneered, rolling my eyes. “You’re brutal, Little Lulu Lamb.” He shook his head. “I’m gunna move back to London full time. I’m a true Brit!” “You’re not. You’re fully not. I think I’m actually picking up on an American twang.” “Fuck. You.” Things continued that way for a while. I poked fun at Harry and he pretended that he wasn’t entirely offended by everything I was saying. We laughed and caught up on the miniature amount of time we’d not been together and what we’d been up to, and before I knew it we’d pulled up outside some tall gates, a damn castle like building nestled between the trees ahead of us as Harry bashed in some code on the keypad next to the gates, which proceeded to open, a cute little tune to inform Harry he’d done a good job and got the code right. His home was a total suntrap, glass windows running most of the building, standing proud and pristine among a sea of green. It was totally secluded, obviously cost a fucking fortune, and it was like nothing I had ever seen before. I cringed at the memory of him being in my tiny flat which barely had enough space the dodge the furniture. “I take everything back.” I whelped. “Stay here. Forever. Never go back to London. It’s not worth it.” “You’ve changed your tune.” He sniggered. His tires scraped against the gravel as we came to an abrupt halt, zero organisation to his parking, but I figured it was easy that way. There was no one he needed to accommodate for. I was pretty much glued to my seat as Harry practically jumped out of the car, wandering round to my side to open the door for me. I just kept staring up at the house. “C’mon.” He ushered. “This is your house. A house… that’s yours. You own this house.” “I do.” “I don’t even own the fucking cutlery in my house! I borrowed it from my mum because I was too skint to buy my own. What the fuck?” “Get out of the car, Lulu.” He bent down a little to grab my hand and drag me out of the vehicle, leaving me stumbling and giggling before I fell back against the side of his car, looking up to him with a giant smile on my face as he slammed the door shut, grinning back down to me. There were a few moments of silence where the two of us just beamed at one another. “Hi.” I eventually breathed. “Hi.” He returned. It was only a second later than his hands were on my waist and his lips were smothering mine. There was a strange desperation in our kiss, like we’d just been waiting for this moment since our lips last parted. It was clumsy, rushed, immediately hot and heavy and I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. We’d never really been like that. Usually there was a build up to it. Even when I was at his in London it hadn’t felt that intense, like we needed each other, like we’d been fucking starved of one another. I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt a kiss so intense, with anyone. I moved my arms so they hung over his shoulders, pushing my hips a little closer to his, loving the way his large hands felt against my body as he searched down my sides, frantic pines scratching at his throat. “Fuck I missed you.” He gasped, the words trapping against my swollen lips. “I really fucking missed you.” There was a sense of surprise in his voice, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was saying, or what he was feeling. For some reason, I stopped kissing him, pulling my lips from his and closing my eyes, swallowing thickly. “What’s wrong?” He asked me, stroking my bottom lip with his thumb. “Nothing. I’m fine.” I shrugged, opening my eyes again. “I think… just jetlag or… It’s nothing.” “You sure?” I moved to kiss him again, but I kept it slow, intense, wondering if he’d subconsciously try to speed the kiss up, make it something that felt more in the heat of the moment rather than a kiss with feelings behind it. But he kept it as slow and wistful as I’d started it, stroking his tongue sweetly against mine, his fingers streaming through my hair. I didn’t need to see his eyes to know I was fucked.

Part Two

There was nothing that suggested we were at a celebrity party other than the fact there were celebrities there. I’d been quietly eyeing up Adele for the past hour. The place he’d chosen was quant, the kind of place that me or my friends would rent out for our birthdays. It wasn’t too expensive, or extravagant, it all just felt really fucking normal. I liked it that way. I’d half expected to feel really out of place, but I didn’t. Every five minutes or so I’d get a little star-struck, but other than that it was just… normal. I watched him converse from the far side of the outdoor area, straw balanced in my glass and just an inch from my lips as he smiled and drank, and he looked so bloody happy. Not a single smile was forced, no one was around asking him for a picture, no one was trying to woo him or kiss his arse. He was just surrounded by his friends, and you could tell just by the look on his face. I placed my straw between my lips and tried for another sip of my cocktail, hearing that infamous noise that proved I was on the final few drops. I hadn’t tried to isolate myself, but it was something that just kind of came naturally to me. There wasn’t anyone there I knew, anyone I could casually converse with, but I didn’t mind just looking around the area and seeing everyone else have a nice time. That was good enough for me. With my empty glass in hand, I sauntered inside to retrieve another drink, only opting for cocktails because Harry had paid for an open bar, so I could be a little frivolous. It was at the bar where I spotted another extremely familiar face. He gave me a firm nod, which I returned, before turning to the barman and ordering my drink. “British?” The Irish lad asked me. “Mhm.” I replied nervously. “I never thought I’d say this, but it’s nice to hear a British accent.” He grinned. “How do you know the birthday boy?” “Grew up with him.” “Same.” He smiled sweetly, and then offered his hand. “I’m Niall.” “I know.” I kind of giggled, taking him up on the gesture. “I’m Lulu.” “Lulu?” “Lambert.” “Ahhhhh, Lamb. I’ve heard about you.” My eyes must have gone wide, no matter how much I tried to act like what he’d just said hadn’t affected me in the slightest. “Y-you have?” “You’ve been… seeing him, right?” “I… I guess. You still talk?” “I’m here, aren’t I?” He shrugged. “Yeah but… I dunno. I guess I’ve just read too many Daily Mail articles.” “They like to make out like we’re not mates anymore, but we’re all still really close. Just… keep it quiet. The last thing we want right now is rumours about the band getting back together. We just want our own time for a bit, y’know?” “Yeah. I get that. I think it’s cool you’re still friends.” “Same goes to you, Lamb.” He nodded. I liked that they kept their bond quiet, even though it was still tight. Their friendships now didn’t need to be something for the world to see and scrutinize like they had been for the past few years. They could just have honest friendships, quiet ones that no one needed to worry about. It was just theirs, for the first time since they’d all met. “Well, we kinda went a long time without speaking.” I shrugged. “We’ve just… recently rekindled. He’s great.” “He is.” Niall agreed. “He mentioned you a few times though like… I was aware of you even though you weren’t talking.” “Are you serious?” I gawped. There were only a few drops of beer left in the bottom of his pint glass, and I could tell from his voice and his rosy red cheeks that it wasn’t his first drink. I figured that was why he was choosing to be so honest with me. I also think he liked the thought of me knowing that, so that I could poke fun at Harry later that night and possibly make him blush with embarrassment. It was clear Niall liked the thought. “Sometimes we’d get a little wistful.” He continued. “About… life before… certain people. I wrote a song about it, actually.” “I heard!” I butt in, a little obsessed with his first solo single. “It’s a lovely song.” “Thanks.” He nodded. “You were that girl for Harry, just so you know.” “I wasn’t.” I huffed, shaking my head. “Trust me, Lamb, you were. You are.” It felt as though just a few weeks before, if I’d found myself in that situation, I’d be able to make a joke. I would have been able to brush it off and laugh about it, but something had changed. It was London. Fuck, I’d known it was stupid to go London and spend so much time with him anyway, but in hindsight it was really fucking stupid. It’s impossible to allow yourself to be that close, and that intimate with someone without feeling something. I’d told myself over and over that it didn’t mean anything, that we didn’t mean anything, but with every kiss, every interaction and every new bit of knowledge, the boy I’d grown up with was quickly becoming someone who eclipsed the other whirring thoughts of my mind. It was easier when he was just the memory of a boy I’d had a crush on in my younger years. It was easier when he was the untouchable celebrity that I used to know. Even July through to December had been easier, where it would occasionally burst into my mind that we’d spent one blissful evening together, but that was all. We had opened our new year together, barely been out of one another’s company since, and it was hitting me hard. After a few seconds too long, Niall gazing at me like he knew I was completely overthinking and over-feeling, I managed to blurt out some form of joke. “Well, in that case I think the lads a poor judge of character.” He laughed, just lightly, his eyes narrowing in an obvious attempt to figure me out. My cocktail had been sat atop the bar untouched for a while, far too wrapped up in one of the many celebrities who had appeared to share a quiet evening with their friend. It was so quant that I wasn’t even sure if paps had turned up or not. “What’s going on with you two?” Niall asked, trying to force the question to be casual. “Nothing serious.” I bit, a little too quickly. “Does he know that?” “I… I would think so.” “He flew you out to LA for his birthday. I think you might need to tell him if it’s nothing serious.” He lightly mocked. I quickly questioned how little or how much Harry had shared with Niall when it came to the two of us, what he was thinking and how he was feeling, because I’d never dared to ask. Although I’d been able to feel each interaction feeling less casual than the last, I’d never even considered asking him where he stood, what he thought was going on between us. “Damn you, Niall.” I rolled my eyes, finally reaching for my drink. He laughed again, this time a little louder, swigging back the final bit of his pint and turning towards the bar. “C’mon, Lamb. Let’s get fucked.”

Part Three

It must have only been around midnight when I found myself dangling my feet into Harry’s swimming pool, looking onto the Hollywood sign in silence, sober. I’d stayed with Niall all night, the two of us opting to stay indoors once we’d learnt that the paps were stalking outside, but that didn’t mean I got to avoid them completely. They were still outside waiting when we left, and although the run in was relatively calm, it still completely sobered me up. I wasn’t used to that kind of thing. I didn’t think it was the type of thing I’d ever have to experience. It was bizarre, hearing them all yell at him as they followed us down the street, taking picture after picture to the point where I thought I was going to go blind. I had hated every second of it, even though Harry had told me that it could, and often did, get much worse. I’d gone from relatively tipsy to stone cold sober quickly. Maybe it was because it dawned on me very suddenly that Harry’s life really was completely different to my own; that even though he still acted like the boy I’d once known, everything in his life had changed dramatically. Everything was different. He was different. I’d never had the opportunity to overthink it too much until then. I must have been on my own for ten minutes before I heard his soft footsteps as he approached the pool from behind me, rolling up his jeans, now just wearing the white tank-top he’d had underneath his shirt, soon joining me at the side of the pool. He dipped his legs into the warm water, sat so close that his arm brushed against mine, and for a while we just sat in silence. The soft chirping of crickets rang around the area, filling our silence. Everything felt still, calm, if only for a short while. “Can I ask you something?” I mumbled, not turning to look at him. “Anything.” He replied softly. “Why am I here?” He didn’t seem shocked by the question, even though he remained silent, gently wading his legs through the water and exhaling. I think maybe he’d been waiting for me to finally question what was going on. “I wanted you here.” He replied, quite simply. “Why?” “Because… you’re nice to have around.” “I’m glad you think so but… don’t you think this is… a little much?” “What-” “You flew me out to LA, Harry. I spent a week with you in London. I’m just… I’m asking what this is, because I don’t know.” He finally turned to face me, the look on his face hard to read as I slowly turned in his direction, trying to ignore the way he was itching his fingers closer to mine. He briefly searched over the side of the pool before he gently stroked the tips of his fingers over the top of mine. I dropped my head, watching his miniature actions. “I feel lost, sometimes.” He spoke quietly. “It’s been almost seven years since all this started and… It still scares me, sometimes. I’m still really overwhelmed by it. And I’m… I’m not too sure I’m good at dealing with it. I just keep quiet. You… You make me feel comfortable. Sometimes it… feels like you bring me back down to earth. You’re not even trying. It’s not like you… force me back down to earth. But when I’m with you things just feel… normal. I’ve missed normal.” I turned my hand over, and within a second he’d joined our fingers together. He'd barely said anything, he definitely hadn’t explained where we stood, what was going on, what was happening between us, but he’d shared himself, and that was enough. I didn’t want to question it any further, I just wanted to keep it like that. Simple. Normal. Unsure what else to say, I lay my head on his shoulder, looking back out to the beautiful view ahead of us as we fell back into silence. Maybe it was best to keep things hazy between us, where we spent time with one another just to feel something, even if we weren’t entirely sure what it was. Holding his hand felt right. Laying my head on his shoulder felt right. Being around him felt right. Whatever it was, it was enough. “How did we end up here, Haz?” I whispered, feeling his grip tighten. “You got a flight.” I heard his smirk, I didn’t even need to see it. “Fuck off.” I sniggered, hitting him with my free hand. “You know what I mean.” “I do.” He laughed a little. “I don’t have an answer for you, Little Lulu Lamb. All I know is I’m glad we are here.” “Me too.” I closed my eyes, my lips lifting just slightly when he kissed the top of my head.

Part Four

It felt like something had changed, like maybe we were finally allowing ourselves to just indulge in one another. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been myself with Harry before that night, wrapped up in his sheets and his arms in his king size bed in LA, but maybe we’d both been holding back a little bit, hesitant to cross a line. Something had changed since our little chat by the pool only two hours earlier. Since rekindling, I had always thought of his body as hard, plastered with dark tattoos and perfectly toned, his strength showing even with just minor actions. But laying there with him, he became soft, kissing my cheek and holding me sweetly, his body curved around mine. Something had changed rapidly between us, even though so few words had been shared. I didn’t think we’d ever been so comfortable with one another. “I’m kidnapping you.” He chuckled, lips running down to my neck. “Please don’t.” I groaned. “I’d miss my flat.” “But you can live here instead.” “Thought you were a true Brit anyway?” I mocked. “You’re gunna kidnap and keep me here even though you’re, supposedly, not here much.” “Mm… Might need to give it a bit more thought then.” “Can you just… not kidnap me? Maybe? I’ve got stuff to do.” “Ummmmmmm… I’ll think about it.” “Okay.” I giggled. He continued to bless my neck and cheeks with sweet kisses, a small smile splaying his lips, meaning I could feel the shape of his happiness upon my skin. My cheeks were beginning to ache, trapped within this strange little world we’d managed to create for ourselves at some point over the past seven months, one that made me feel endlessly happy. One that made me feel like were the only two people in the world. My memories of those paps and how being in public had made me feel began to wash away, slowly. Our privacy was our key. His hands began to wander, pushing his groin against my arse and trailing his fingers down my stomach, soon reaching me, rubbing over me with a tender touch I’d never really felt from him before. His kisses went from playful to passionate within seconds, closing my eyes whilst trying to comprehend the way my entire body felt when his hands roamed my mass. When he eased two fingers into me, my body eased into his in return, feeling his warm chest pressed against my back, his short hair tickling at the skin of my neck as he continued to caress the area. I’d never known him to be gentle like that, like each movement we made could shatter us. We were delicate with one another, for the first time. Even when he’d been in cuffs, at his most vulnerable, he was nothing like that. I wondered if these soft touches revealed a different kind of vulnerability. “Tell me you want me.” He whispered directly into my ear, sparking shivers that fluttered down my entire body. “I need to hear you say it.” “I want you.” I trembled. “Get on your hands and knees.” The sharp tone of his voice told me his delicate touches were not going to last. I clambered to grant his wishes immediately, nerves and excitement twisting in my stomach as he clambered off the bed for a moment, rushing over to his abandoned clothes. I noticed he was pulling his belt from the slot in his jeans. “Fuck.” I whispered to myself, watching him hoop the item together as he moved to kneel on the bed behind me. My mind ran back to the first time we slept together, when he’d slapped my wet core with his belt, just once. It had forced a beam of light into a corner of my mind I had never explored before. I’d think about it when I was alone, touch myself over the thoughts of him using that belt, the thoughts of him maybe using those cuffs and that collar on me. It was proof of how comfortable we were with one another. We hadn’t really eased ourselves into that kind of sex, it was something we’d seen the very first time, even if it was minor. I couldn’t wait to explore that section of my desires a little further. At first, he gently stroked the leather down my spine, his movements so slow I almost whimpered. I snapped my neck back, breathless as the leather finally reached my bum, and that’s when his movements quickened. With little warning, he pulled his arm back and then threw it back forwards, the leather slapping my skin. I let out a low cry, the noise of the contact ringing in my ear. “Spread your legs.” So I did, widening them just a little. My body jolted forwards as he forced himself into me, slapping the leather against my skin as he did. I was in awe of how weak I felt, how my vulnerability shaded the colour of my skin an gripped at my stomach, the noise made from the leather hitting my skin still ringing in my ear. I’d never felt smaller, the piercing sound soon fading and being replaced by the grunts that were webbed within his throat, leaning down over my body a little so he could kiss at the top of my back, before shooting back upright and digging himself into me a little further. “Lulu,” He gasped, a quake in his voice. “Can you handle me?” “Yes.” I gasped absentmindedly. “Fuck, Lulu, listen,” He huffed, pulling out and then slowly pushing back in. “I wanna fuck you so hard, Baby… please. Tell me you can handle it.” “I can handle it.” With those four words, he reached out and gathered my hair, clasping it in the palm of his hand and then yanking it, my neck snapping backwards as he did. Seconds later he whipped me again, harsh and unforgiving, cursing loudly to himself as he realised that he could, and was about to, completely let loose. He was about to fuck me as hard as he needed to. His hips began their work, finding a forceful but steady pace as he fucked in and out of me, my teeth grit with my neck still backwards, my hair wound within his fingers and buried into the palm of his hand. He took the belt and hit me again, and every time he did he let out this low cry, like each whip was releasing something from him. My skin was stinging, probably bright red, struggling to breathe as he whipped me over and over again, so hard and constant that tears began to fill my eyes. He felt amazing, everything felt amazing. I couldn’t even comprehend what he was doing to me and the mix of feelings his actions brought with them. I couldn’t believe he’d been tender with me only minutes before, so tender I’d felt as though I was floating. I wanted to experience every single pleasure with him, from the soft grazes of his fingertips loving the lines of my body, to the sting of his belt as he whipped me. I wanted him kissing my neck and weaving our fingers together, and I wanted him bound, collar and cuffs decorating his body, adding to the art of his existence. I’d never been like that with anyone before. Harry was awakening this beast within me, one that I didn’t want to tame. I screamed as he whipped me one final time, before he threw the belt back onto the floor. “Put your arms behind your back.” He demanded, voice low and dripping with desire. I let my chest fall down to the mattress to comply to his needs, my cheeks pressed against the sheets as he released my hair, and then moved to grab my wrists. He held them together, tight at the bottom of my spine, making sure I couldn’t move them even if I wanted to. He started pushing even harder, skin slapping against skin as he thrust into me with speed and precision. My walls were tight around him, biting my bottom lip so hard I thought I might be able to taste blood. I let my mind wander for just a second, and took into consideration how grateful I was that his touches hadn’t remained delicate. We may have been getting closer, more delicate at times, tender and thoughtful and more open, but when it came to the two of us being truly intimate with one another, it changed. When we were at our most vulnerable, we hardened, like we were literally building walls, a way to avoid feeling too much. It helped, even if it was just a little bit. With his hands still holding my wrists together at the bottom of my back, he pulled aggressively, yanking my entire body upwards before he released me from his grip, my back slamming against his chest. He bent his knees so that I was practically sat on him, my legs spread wide as he pulsed his hips upwards, hands roaming up my body and proceeding to caress my breasts, toying with my nipples just slightly. “Grind on me.” He whispered into my ear as I lolled my head back over his shoulder, before he began biting my neck. “Wanna feel you cum.” I began rolling my hips, our new position meaning that he was reaching new areas. I stretched my arms back, elbows sharp towards the ceiling as I ran my hands through his soft hair, shuddering as he moved one hand down my stomach and then started to play with my clit, using two fingers to rub with speed. Feelings of electricity burst through my body, my mouth falling wide open as I began to release onto him, loving his sounds of pleasure as I came. He bit harder at my neck as I did, my movements becoming sloppy and weak, so he started picking up the slack. He used his obscene strength and fucked into me for his final few thrusts, ridiculously forceful despite his awkward positioning, and then he faltered, quaking and groaning as he finished. “Holy fuck.” He trembled, his voice in tatters. “M’never gunna get used to how good you feel. Fuck.” He kissed softly at the area of my neck he’d just been harsh with, before my frail body pretty much collapsed, falling face first back down onto the bed, leaving Harry still upright, chuckling at my flimsy frame. “I’m done.” I mumbled into the fabric of his pillow. “I’m never moving from this spot again. I can’t.” “Nice.” He smiled, moving to lay down beside me. “Looks like I don’t have to kidnap you after all.” He lay on his back, staring up to the ceiling, and I flipped my head so that I could admire his profile. We were silent for a while as we calmed, and I could almost see Harry’s throat getting thicker and thicker, jamming with words he was hesitant to say. I could physically see it happening. I went from admiring him, to nervously waiting for him to spill the words that were causing his throat to swell and his chest to heave. “I’m… I’m interviewing for Rolling Stone tomorrow.” “Are-are you serious?” I managed to sit up, finding the strength from somewhere. “Fuck, Harry that’s amazing!” “Yeah.” He managed to smile, though it was weak. “It’s… It’s a big deal.” “That’s huge! I’m so happy for you.” He finally turned his head so that he could look at me, wetting his lips and reaching his hand out so he could stroke the backs of his fingers over my bare thigh. “Things are about to get really busy again.” He sighed. “I’m… I’m gunna just be doing promo stuff now… for months. I… I won’t have any spare time.” Suddenly, I was the one with the thick throat. Because I knew what he was saying without him really having to say it. The only reason we’d spent time with each other, the only reason we were the way we were, was because I filled his spare time. We had immersed ourselves in one another because he had the time to do so, for the first time in years. Our time had run out. “Okay.” I nodded. “I just… I don’t think we can-” “You don’t need to explain yourself, Haz.” I faked a smile. “I get it. It’s good that you’ll be busy. It’s exciting.” “It is, but… I dunno. I’m gunna miss you.” “You won’t.” I giggled. “You won’t have the time.” “Lamb… don’t do that.” He frowned. “I will miss you. Genuinely.” I didn’t want to say it back. Saying it back felt too real. I looked down to my lap, seeing his fingers still searching over my skin, and I think he was desperately waiting for me to say it back to him. But I couldn’t. “I had fun with you.” I mumbled. “Was good while it lasted.” I didn’t glance up to see the look of bitter disappointment on his face, but he retracted his hand rapidly after that, sighing to himself. I lifted my head in time to see him rubbing over his eyes with the back of his hand. But he composed himself rather rapidly, and opened his arms to me. “C’mere.” He offered. So I did, snuggling into his side and he enveloped me in his warm frame, kissing the top of my head once I was settled against him. I closed my eyes, and I wished things could stay that way. I wished I could stay in his arms, where we didn’t need to say a thing, or do anything, we could just exist together. Just for a while longer. I could feel him slipping through my fingertips, and the worst part was that I hadn’t released he was mine to lose until that very moment. “Thanks for coming.” He whispered after some time, voice low. “Thank you for having me.” I replied. And when I left LA, for the first time since we rekindled, we hadn’t made a single plan to see each other again.

[dailyaudiobible]

05/17/2017 DAB Transcript

1 Samuel 20:1-21:15 ~ John 9:1-41 ~ Psalm 113:1-114:8  ~ Proverbs 15:15-17

Today is May 17th.  Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible.  I'm Brian.  It's great to be here with you today and how is your week going?  Here we are in the middle of it all and we’ll turn a corner and head toward the backside of the week.  We’re reading from the Names of God Bible this week and we’re in the intriguing story right now with King Saul and a young David and just what gets brought up in the two of them because they are in proximity to each other and what that can mean for our lives.  So 1 Samuel chapter 20, verse 1 through 21, verse 15 today.  

Commentary

Okay, if it wasn’t clear that Saul wants to kill David (and it was clear, by the way), but if it wasn’t clear, it is very clear now.  And Jonathan, David's best friend, the son of the king, the prince of Israel, he knows it's true and so he has to help his best friend get away. It's just a pretty sad scene because we’re seeing, like we talked about, where the insecurity and unsettledness and people-pleasing of Saul, the things that intimidate him are taking his life over and they are affecting the way that he leads.  So you see that Saul has become very obsessed about David.  He's very jealous about David, but he is also very, very insecure and he's isolating himself and he's getting stranger and stranger and stranger as it goes because that is kind of how that works.  So his insecurity and his isolation are also turning into paranoia and just all kinds of things are going on inside of Saul.  

David, on the other hand, he didn’t deserve any of this.  He didn’t ask for any of this.  David had to grow up really fast all of a sudden.  One morning his father sends him to the battle lines to bring his brothers some supplies and see how things are going and the next thing you know he is like a national hero.  The next thing you know he's killed the giant Goliath.  So it's been a whirlwind ever since I'm sure with some really, really wonderful days, but David had to grow up fast.  He had to grow up in the limelight.  He had to grow up really fast and then all of a sudden now it is pretty clear he's gone from national treasure, like national hero to fugitive, outlaw on the run and being pursued by the king of Israel, this one man.

So we see like a desperation.  He flies to a priest and gets himself a weapon and gets him a little bit of supplies and then he goes to Gath.  So he's literally left the borderlands.  He's left Israel and is seeking asylum with the Philistines.  He goes to Gath, which is this nearby city that happens to be the hometown of Goliath.  That's how pressed in David is, ‘it would be more safe for me to go to Gath, the hometown of the giant that I killed, than to be in my own homeland right now.’  

So David has no really good options and really hasn’t done anything but be loyal, faithful, a good servant to the king, a good leader to the soldiers and David has become a warrior in the process with nowhere to go and King Achish, once they figure out who David is, it is not a good environment for David to maybe lay his head down to rest in so he has to pretend he's insane just to get out of there.  And we’ll pick that story up tomorrow.  But it is just important to see kind of the diverging paths.  Everything that is happening in David's life as far as him being on the run and an outlaw is completely a repercussion of Saul's insecurity. Things that we let run rampant in us, the lies that we have believed all this time that pull us into isolation and can keep making us stranger and stranger, they affect people around us and we’re seeing that in Saul's life and we’re seeing that in David's life.  

Prayer

Father, we invite you into that.  We invite you into that because the things that are making us feel less than, I mean, whether they have any basis in truth or not, they melt away in your face.  So when we go to those places and we live in those places and we isolate ourselves, we’re essentially saying that you're not capable of redeeming us.  There is no new start for us.  There is no mercy that is renewed in the morning for us.  There is no all things new for us.  That is pretty much what we’re saying.  And that is not true.  So we’re believing a lie and living into that and we’re watching where that road leads with Saul and we ask you to help us.  We need your Holy Spirit's power in those places, those wounds and agreements that we have made covenant with and lived from for so long that were never true in the first place.  Come Holy Spirit into those places.  We invite you.  We reject those things.  We reject anything that is not from you or of you.  We reject anything in our lives that exalts itself above you.  We pursue you with our whole heart.  We love you, Lord.  Come Holy Spirit, speak truth into our lives.  Lead us on the path of life, we ask.  In Jesus’ name, amen.  

Announcements

Www.DailyAudioBible.com is home base.  It's the website.  I say it every day.  That's where you find out what is going on around here and that is where the Prayer Wall is and that's where resources are and that is where upcoming events are.  I guess the one upcoming event that we’re talking about right now, and I don’t think we’ll be talking about it too much more because I think it will be full, because it is getting pretty close now, we’re going to go back to this land of the Bible, the Valley of Elah that we talked about when David slew Goliath.  I mean, some of these places David has to flee to at this point are kind of back down from Jerusalem in what is called the lowlands, the Shfela, that area, and we’ll be in that area as well as every region pretty much north, south, east or west.  Every region of land we will certainly touch and visit and contextualize.  So you’re invited.  We’ll be going back in February, February 19th through March 4th.  You can get more information at www.DailyAudioBible.com.  Just kind of scroll down and look for the Israel 2018 icon, little banner, and that will take you where you need to go.  So you are invited.  

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at www.DailyAudioBible.com.  There is a link.  It's on the home page.  Thank you profoundly for your partnership in the community that we share and are together. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible App, you can press the More button in the lower right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is P.O. Box 1996, Spring Hill, TN 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or comment, (877) 942-4253 is the number to dial.  

And that’s it for today.  I'm Brian. I love you and I’ll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer Requests and Praise Reports

Hi.  My name is Lynn and I love the Lord very much.  I’ve been listening to the Daily Audio Bible for about two years now and just really enjoy it.  I'm a first-time caller.  Thank you, Brian, for having this podcast available and thank you to all the prayer warriors out there who are praying for each other.  It is very comforting to listen to the prayer line and I too am praying for others as they call in.  Today I'm calling thanking God for my mom and my grandma who both loved the Lord very much and are with him now and I'm missing them today on Mother's Day and I pray for all those  who are also missing their mothers this day especially and for you, Brian.  I know it is especially hard that first Mother's Day. I also ask prayer request for my adult son who will be deployed to Afghanistan next week.  He serves in the Air Force Reserves and I just ask for prayers for his safety and for his family's protection while he's away.  I also ask for prayers for my younger adult son and his wife and they are going through a rough patch in their marriage right now.  I pray for healing, reconciliation, forgiveness, grace, mercy, and perseverance through the hard times.  Lord, protect their marriage.  Thank you, God, for being so faithful and so good.  I love you, dear Lord Jesus.  Amen.  

Hi Daily Audio Bible.  This is Sandy from New Hampshire.  I'm calling on Mother's Day.  I'm letting you know, Hardin family, that you're in my thoughts and prayers and sending you a hug.  It blessed my heart to hear different folks reaching out to you and that just touched my heart.  I'm calling today to encourage people that are discouraged, that the thief comes to steal, kill and destroy.  He comes to steal your joy.  He comes to destroy your trust in God and he comes to kill your faith.  And so I'm praying right now for people to have that assurance from the Lord that he is with you.  He has not forsaken you.  You are in the called and the beloved and he loves you.  I'm praying for you today.  So Father, in the name of Jesus, I give you thanks.  I give you praise for each and every person in the Daily Audio Bible family.  I pray, Father, for your Holy Spirit to speak in the hearts and to encourage.  Lord, what the enemy has sought to steal, kill and destroy, I pray, Father, that you will refresh, refuel and revive each soul, in Jesus’ mighty name, for your glory, Lord God.  This is Sandy in New Hampshire.  God bless you.  

Lee in New Jersey, I want to thank you again for your message on clarifying what it is I was trying to convey on the DAB Prayer Line.  I appreciate your prayers so much and I want you to know that I am standing in agreement with asking God for wisdom and to reveal his plan to you as well as the inappropriate stuff that your daughter and other children are being exposed to on the Internet.  I want to tell you that my brother __ had a very similar issue and what they did is they got one computer, a Mac, and put it in the living room in open space so that their two kids, when they need to do work, it is done in an open space and an open, controlled area and they monitor their time, so I hope that will help you.  Rose in Queens, I love you, too.  Will in Bozeman, MT, I'm praying for your brother's cancer.  I pray for full recovery and just ask God to give you wisdom and protect you and your family.  Christy in Kentucky, your mama passed away.  Girlfriend, I don’t know what to say except that I am standing in the gap and I'm praying for you.  I want to thank Victorious Soldier.  I want to thank Richard and Francine in Canada for calling in.  Roselyn and Walta and Sheila in Texas, restoration of your marriage.  __ along with the ladies I just mentioned, thank you so much for calling in and sharing your testimony.  I think it is so important that while we call in for prayer reports, we also call in with stories of success and hope that that will bless you.  So just sending everybody my love and big hugs to you. Cheers!  Asia in Munich.  

Good morning Dabbers.  This is Walta, the burning bush that will not be devoured for the glory of our God and King. Guys, my beautiful mom, the one who showed me who God is and woman of faith, well, she has been diagnosed with colon cancer and today as I speak she is going into surgery for removal of a tumor. Please pray for my mom.  She is the best mom in the world.  Just pray for her to make it out safe and healed and that she will know that God is with her.  He will never leave her nor forsake her in this entire process and to be with us as we pray for her healing and safe surgery and healing after the surgery.  Thank you guys.  I love you. I love you all.  God bless.  

Hi, this is Christine with a bumpy dog in North Carolina.  I’ve been a long time listener and call in occasionally but I'm calling in today with a prayer request and a praise.  I just listened to the May 11th broadcast and heard Keith.  I'm so thankful that he called in and it's so heartening that he said his son made poor choices in high school but now, as he's in his 20s, he is maturing in his faith and can see Jesus in his heart.  I'm also calling, Jordan had called in several times with requests as a teacher to work with several difficult children in his class.  He's praying to know when to push and yet keep a positive relationship between him and the students.  So it is with both of these that I call for my son who also has made poor choices in school. He has suffered the consequences and as a parent it really hurt to watch him do that and it also hurts to administer consequences here at home in support of the school, but I'm now praying for wisdom and discernment from the Holy Spirit as I speak to my son as he has seen several serious situations involving other students where he has not seen a consistent way of administering justice.  I'm praying for wisdom and discernment to know as a parent when I should speak up and model for him correct behavior and when I should be quiet and the ability to have that conversation with him about that delicate balance between mercy and justice as a follower of Christ.  Thank you again for your prayers.  

[toomuchcoffeebye]

Aight so I’m going to drop some bullshit on everyone because I have recently gotten on meds and worked through this, so. It’s pressing on my heart and I wanna vent. Reblog and comment if you want, but, this is personal. 

[TW: suicide attempts (non-descriptive), depression, anxiety, sexual harassment, ignorance, heavy religious reppression, sexism, aphobia, homophobia, and minor allusions to racism (I am white, it hasn’t affected me personally, but it comes up a bit in this via general ignoance)]

K, so, Let’s start with my family background. White, Church of Christ or Catholic, Military, and in general, reliant on both the church and the military economy. I dunno if y’all know anything about the Church of Christ,  but it is exclusionary, insistent on being the ONE TRUE CHURCH and ultimately pretty cultish, in their controlling of information, insistence on maintaining higher level education, and distinctive beliefs that they are following the First-Generation Christians despite being founded in the early 19th century. (http://www.theexaminer.org/volume8/number6/leftcoc.htm for more info [TW:religion and repressive religion specifically.) 

ANd I was raised in it. My grandparents are wholeheartedly involved in one of those huge ones in the buckle of the bible belt, middle Tennessee. My mom likes to tell the story of when I was born, the week dad came home from Iraq so he wouldn’t miss my birth, they tried a new Church of Christ and she felt that I was coming Right Then and they had to leave halfway through the sermon. We went kind of inconsistently, but we lived the way Coc wanted, more or less. We (my family) sang a whole lot, (my dad used to be a member of a military chorus) as the church encourages A Capella worship (if a church has instruments, it is not a church of Christ). Coc encourages the father as the head of the household with a really specific tenant: the father of the household is responsible for the faith of all his children and his wife. and all of their children. ad nauseum. He prays for all of them, and they tell him what they want to pray for. This means, of course, that as a human female, your spiritual connection to god is always mediated by a man. forever. So Coc(k) has a patriarchy problem. ABout SPIRITUAL HEALTH! wtf. I never really understood what god WAS, and I guess the inconsistent church going saved me from their indoctrination, cause I’ve considered myself an atheist since I was like 12 and understood what that meant. I got baptized at 15, which in Coc is in a way signing over your body to god, for my dad. He really looks up to his father, they share a name and lots of features, and he respects G-pa for his spiritual conviction, which for him was broken a little by his time in the military. My dad wants to ensure that all of his children get to heaven, like his father wants to, and he was pressuring me because my older siblings got baptized earlier, at like 13, when they were ‘old enough to decide that’. Personally, I don’t think anyone should be allowed to sign themselves over to a deity when they can’t go on Disney.com without parental permission. I recently told my dad I was an atheist and he didn’t believe me because “you’re baptized!” and tbh I can’t believe I had to apologize for lying to my father about something he very much pressured me into. but Wtv. all of this was just set up for:

For the longest time, (ok, like 5 years wtv) I considered myself Asexual. It made sense, I could describe myself as that with ease, and it felt right. I’m only now beginning to unpack the feelings I held in unhealthily. Asexual is a valid and real sexuality, but I am not asexual. I’m pretty sure I’m bi, but tbh I have doubts about even that. I don’t trust myself to know what I want, partially because my family situation drilling into my head the idea that I have to have a boyfriend until I have a husband, and then I belong to him spiritually at least. I told my mom I was asexual, and explained it, and she first decided everyone felt like that, and when I pressed her that I was VERY sure that wasn’t true, she pulled over and ranted at me for Not Giving Me The Grandchildren I Deserve and it just sucked. I was pretty out at school, but around the time I told my mother I was being sexually harassed by this guy, call him Q, because of it. Q believed it ‘was a waste’ for me to be ace, and ‘no one is like that’, ‘everyone wants it’. He had a habit of grabbing me, touching me but I believed he was my friend. One day though, he slid his hand too close to my actual genitals and I sprained my hand punching him, and my friend reported him for sexual harassment after I ranted about him, and I didn’t press charges, because Q Was My Friend. Along side all that bullshit, I had lots of boyfriends through the years because my parents had made it very clear that I was to tell them if and when I had a boyfriend, and I took that to mean I had to have a boyfriend, and if I didn’t I should be looking for one. You can probably see how all of this compounded to make a bit of internal strife. Buckle up, Bois, I’m not fucking done. 

So, I’m not going to out my siblings, no names, no specifics, but it should be made clear that we were going through similar shit, because not everyone is straight. (Or white, as it were. My sister brought home a Puerto Rican guy (I think? it’s kinda fuzzy by now, but not white) and my dad made a joke about ‘thinning the gene pool’. (caveat: he may have been talking about height, but I’m not sure. Again, fuzzy.) ) I didn’t learn that not all my siblings are straight until a long while after they knew about each other because I’m both a dumb rock and 2nd youngest. So, along with all the secrets being the 3rd of four came with, I was hiding this. I was hiding secrets for each of them, from each other, for my parents, from the siblings, for the siblings as a whole, for my older sister specifically, she had lots of lies for me to hide. And damn, that hurt. My parents focus a lot on honesty, and it’s worse in our household to lie than it is to do something bad. It’s worse to show emotions, though, so I guess it’s just fucked up. So there was I, overburdened by half-clear secrets and the need to shield what was left of my emotional core. This was compounded by the fact that everyone I met when I was little thought I was ‘odd’, if they were being polite. My older sister thought I was insane and I believed her because for no other reason would I be having so much trouble ‘controlling my emotions’ as my father puts it, having so much trouble holding what I assumed were a normal amount of secrets and being told I wasn’t fully human to the God I didn’t believe in. 

This might sound trivial to some people, but it has left me fundamentally scared of expressing cheerfulness, sadness, anger, or anything but blind complacency and fear. I have severe Depression and Anxiety, no one can really read my emotions except for maybe my closest sibling and a few people who read what I write when I write expressively. I am scared to cry when I’m not alone, because I’ve been hit for less. I’m scared to cry when I am alone, for someone might hear me. I’m scared to show fear to the extent I apologize to my friends when I have a panic attack they caused by shoving their hand in my face repeatedly in a crowded and confusing party. 

Recently, I was upset my sister wanted my company after I was sick and tired form surgery, she broke a promise she’d made, and she invaded my personal space. He threatened to kick me out because I was being so rude to her, he said ‘go pack your bags’ and everything, meaning it fro shock value, and I did. I went and packed my bags. He called me back down and asked the real question: Do I feel loved at home? I answered him honestly, and I told him I’m and atheist, It wasn’t just a phase, and I was serious. I didn’t tell him that I really wanted to leave, for real, because anyone who says that to their child probably means it, and if they don’t they shouldn’t be saying it at all. I didn’t do this because he’s in charge of the funding I get from his military benefits for college and I didn’t know what I would do without those. I was scared, and I lied. My own mother doesn’t fucking want me and she complains that I’m ‘hard to read’ when she has told me I’m an evil, emotionally-manipulative child for crying when she yelled at me for dropping a plate. I’m not sure I feel loved anywhere, to be honest. I guess that’s dumb, but you know. That’s how it is sometimes. My family says ‘I love you’ a lot, a lot- a lot, but I have never been sure they meant it, especially when it is said the most emphatically when dad is holding and comforting a child he just beat. He forced us to cuddle up to him after he beat us and he held us, telling us he loved us. I can’t trust that man saying ‘I love you’. 

Again, I suppose this is trivial to some, but I have attempted suicide six times. I have had to give my knife to my friends, all that stupid shit. I’m not going to describe how, because that would be irresponsible. However, I’m going to do something radical and explain why I don’t want to anymore. Item one: It hurts. I have a high tolerance to pain, but the physical pain of a failed suicide attempt is dwarfed only by the gnawing regret, guilt, shame, and reminder that you’re Still Here. Item two: there are, really, things that I enjoy. They’re stupid and mundane, but I like breakfast. Eggs, bacon, the sunrise and the cool dew. I like baking, though I don’t do it often. Something about sweets and the making something always appealed to me. I like writing and drawing and handicrafts, though I am not very good at any of those things. Something about making something for others or something physical to hold always appealed to me, because it’s proof that I exist and manipulate reality. I never put any stock in that whole every-life-has-a-purpose bullshit, because if you were out here to do something, you can fuck it up, and I believed I had already fucked it all up. Item Three: While, even now, I don’t want to exist, there’s something mathematically implausible and cosmically coincidental about the fact that I do exist, that a consciousness inhabits this collection of atoms that tricked itself into becoming alive. I like the rebelliousness of it. The sheer existential power I’m flexing on every speck of dust that’s not currently alive. I DO exist, and there’s nothing more improbable or insane than that. 

[TL;DR: I had a fucked up childhood and am now broken as a result. Don’t kill yourself for the status points you have above non-living matter.] 

[becauseimsensational]

Killing Eve rewatch: "I'll Deal With Him Later"

Of course, Eve remains as tangentially relatable as ever during her meeting with Carolyn: from the five seconds of awkward stuttering that seem to last five minutes because secondhand embarrassment is a REAL problem, to the point at which she explodes in her learned polite, British manner, Eve's frustration leaps off the screen and demands attention. I have to wonder how many times she's tried explaining this theory of hers to Niko, or to Bill and Elena, and how many times they'd tell her she was insane and grasping at straws. For once, someone is listening to her, believes her, and isn't calling her crazy. The line, "It's like I've stepped into my brain!" is massively important for both Eve and the audience. It shows Eve's intelligence and tenacity with these cases, but it also gives her a sense of agency and validates the extra secret work she'd put in at MI-5 that's now paying off. (Side note: God bless Phoebe Waller-Bridge for casting Fiona Shaw as Carolyn, because that line about the rat drinking from the can of Coke is so absurdly funny due to her deadpan delivery of it, and I'm not sure any other actress would've been able to do that line justice.) That whole scene is also a massive turning point, because Eve is finally allowed to investigate what she wants to, and she's got no boundaries or dickswab superiors telling her she can't.

I think one of the most endearing things about Villanelle is her sense of humor and the deadpan delivery of some of her answers. The exchange with Konstantin about the bruise on her eye is undeniably funny, but it's interesting that a hardened assassin uses humor to deflect any possible kernel of truth, even with someone she's so familiar with. The assessment scene is wickedly funny, too, in true Villanelle fashion. The line about the photo of the hanged man having "good legs" should not be funny, but somehow it is. Villanelle subverts all expectations, laughing at and making light of things that "ordinary" people should not—but don't we all know someone like that, who laughs at awfully morbid things? Who uses humor as a mask for their true feelings? (I personally use dark humor constantly to cover the trauma I experienced in the past, which may be informing my feelings toward the assessment scene, but I digress.) The appeal of using dark humor in stressful situations is a sense of control that I think most of us crave. It's a control that Villanelle certainly has—until Konstantin makes Jerome ask her about Anna and shows her the sketch of the woman. For me, there are two possibilities here: either she's lying and the woman is Anna, or she's lying and it is actually her mother.

Either would make sense, honestly. It's very easy to lie and bite out the first denial that comes to mind, even if it's just a direct reversal of what the other person said. At this point, the audience doesn't know who Anna is, but we can assume she was someone important to Villanelle, or she wouldn't have had such a hard time getting back to using humor to control the situation. I personally think Villanelle was, for once, being genuine when she said the woman was supposed to be her mother. It could make sense, given the fact that she keeps staring at older women with dark hair. It could be an unfulfilled maternal fantasy, or I could just be talking out of my ass and she was actually joking about it being her mom. Also, we don't know how long Konstantin had that sketch in his possession for, so it's unlikely the woman in the sketch is Eve. On the off-chance it is actually Eve (or Random London Hospital Woman, from Villanelle's pov), maybe Villanelle sketched it because her hair reminded her of Anna's. But who knows? That scene is still kind of ambiguous to me.

After the assessment when she hugs Konstantin, I sensed a bit of a disconnect. The hug looked inorganic, forced, and like it was a spur-of-the-moment thing she remembered that people do sometimes. This is definitely coming from beyond the constraints of just this episode, but I'd be willing to bet she's never hugged anyone without an ulterior motive. Ever. Call me crazy but Villanelle just doesn't seem like a hugger. Someone pointed out to me that Villanelle is very similar to an AI, a comparison I hate (because robots terrify me lol) but one that makes sense. She has no moral compass or ethical code, she's an efficient killing machine and, most interestingly, she mimics other people's behavior to fit in. I truly think she has no idea how to be a "normal" human, which explains the smiling battle with the little girl on the ice cream shop from episode one, the awkward way she hugs Konstantin, and then mimicking the laughter she hears on the radio when she's out with Sebastian.

Oh, Sebastian. Adorable, sweet, sensitive Sebastian. I actually was rooting for him to stay alive, but…well, we see how long that lasted. While the sex scene didn't come as a shock to me at all, the logistics of it were weirdly refreshing. For once, the woman was on top, in total control, and the man was begging for mercy. For once, the man was being used as a sexual object for the woman's gratification. I found myself audibly "aww-ing" for the fifth fucking time because I'm a sap when Sebastian assured Villanelle he'd never hurt her, while her hand was around his throat. Never one for sentimentality, Villanelle's cold, vacant eyes and flat affect tacitly told us all we needed to know: "This was fun, but I don't believe you. And I'm not going to let you get close enough to find out if you're lying."

The subtle recognition in Eve's eyes in the bathroom speaks to the nuance of Sandra Oh's acting. It's clearly just a passing remembrance, because I'm fairly certain the traumatic memory of walking into witness the carnage in that hospital room would outweigh a nurse in a bathroom, but for some reason the encounter stood out to Eve. She's almost constantly fiddling with her luxurious mane, and probably spends most of her time trying to keep it out of her face. And then a random beautiful young woman stares at her for a little too long, then tells her to "Wear it down," which may have been the first time anyone's ever told her that.

THE KILL: It might sound demented, but I think this one is my favorite. Villanelle is a master manipulator and knows exactly what to say to get Carla to smell her perfume. Not to mention all the preparation that went into that kill? Mixing that toxic perfume, having the correct outfit and wig, the "three weeks of catering training" she supposedly did, and the tampon in her pocket as an excuse to get to her target? She really thinks of everything when it comes to her job, and that's a determination I can support! (Well, mostly, I mean she is killing people…) But then there's the utter fascination in her eyes as she watches Madame De Mann die, slowly and excruciatingly. And then, of course, Villanelle makes it laugh-out-loud funny by grabbing the woman's hand and waving goodbye with it, once again using dark humor even though she's had control of the situation the whole time.

Yet again, Sebastian's the sweetest guy who didn't deserve what happened to him. He's not an idiot, of course he didn't believe that Konstantin was her brother. Not to mention he literally walked in on him choking her against the wall? His willingness to protect Villanelle (AKA "Julie") is adorable and noble, but it was his curiosity and desire to support her in her perfume business that got him in the end, poor guy. Also, Konstantin's lazy, half-assed "I'm her brother" never fails to crack me up, along with Villanelle's "Dealt with" when they find Sebastian's body. PWB's writing and Jodie Comer's delivery are the perfect match, I swear.

The final scene of both leading ladies trying to research the other has to be one of my favorites of the series. In a way, it's a little like the moment in You've Got Mail when Tom Hanks realizes the perpetual thorn in his side is the woman he's in love with—but Meg Ryan's still in the dark for the rest of the movie. The instant oh shit look on Villanelle's face is priceless. She's relaxing in bed after a glass of champagne, googling Eve's name to see what comes up, and then…it's her. She probably never thought she'd see Hospital Bathroom Woman again, but there she is! On her screen, and leading a department just for her; the cocky grin she had when Konstantin first told her is nowhere to be found. On Eve's end, she's poring over every photo of every nurse at that hospital; it's late, she should be home in bed, but she can't sleep until she finds a photo of the woman. When she doesn't, it finally connects: "I think I've met her."

Random observations:

-During the assessment, Villanelle speaks of her mother in the present tense: "I'm joking. My mother has really thin, shitty hair." To me, that line indicated that her mother's alive. (Because I've seen this show in its entirety four times already, this will definitely come up again later but for now it's just something to keep in mind)

-Frank's still a dickswab. God I can't wait until I get to watch him get murdered again

-Why national anthems? Of all the genres of music she could have thrown out, why that one? She was born in a post-Soviet Russia, so the anthem's been toned down a bit; also, Konstantin told Jerome that she doesn't speak Russian anymore, indicating a disconnect from her homeland. But the French national anthem? That makes a little more sense for Villanelle to like. It's defiant, it's triumphant, and damn it's violent. But just because you like one country's national anthem doesn't mean you like them all, and most of the rest of them are boring "I love my country" rhetoric that are sorely lacking the mentions of bloodshed that the French have. She's just a constant surprise, I guess lol

-Sebastian's got a dressform in his apartment, which I think is cool because hey, he did actually make his trousers like he said.

-Villanelle eats on screen, which is so refreshing for a female character. And they're not like important meals, it's snacking and eating junk food like real people do. (Yeah, the bar for women acting like humans on screen is that low)

-Who would I be if I didn't mention that infamous champagne cork pop?! The placement of the bottle right between Jodie's legs, and the fact that it explodes right after Villanelle says Eve's name? Iconic. There had to have been some deity that blessed that take because…wow, it was perfect. And totally unexpected and unscripted, as Jodie confirmed on twitter.

-Even in the photo Villanelle finds of her, Eve's got her hand in her hair, messing with it as usual. Maybe it's a manifestation of Eve's insecurities, either about her appearance (for which there is no reason, have you seen Sandra Oh?) or about herself generally.

-If you pause the screen while Villanelle's googling, some of the search results are hilarious!

The first one (from the not at all made up website 'powbangsmash.tv') advertises "Horrific Wrestling Accidents" featuring Polastri Pulverizer, which is just so random, even for a fake google search.

The second is about Niko who, apparently, tutors people in the world's most boring card game AND was the national champion in 1998, because of course Niko's really really good at really really mundane things.

The third mentions the origins of the Polastri family line which: "BEGAN IN THE 1880S WITH ERIC POLASTRI, WHO HAD THREE WIVES EACH NAMED JANE" which is just bizarre

The fourth one, my favorite, is a One Direction Fan Fiction called "A Hallow's Eve in the wrong direction" from the site 'fanfictionsandhomemadetales.org' which, sadly, doesn't actually exist. (Yes I did look that one up)

The last one is about a house fire and how the dad saved the family's puppy, named Eve. Pets with human names will never not be funny to me, and Eve is just so odd-sounding for an animal.