#gonna turn some of these designs into patches and maybe paintings
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cicada-heart · 10 months ago
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yesterdays sketchbook page ❤️‍🔥💘🍒 a bit asymmetrical and not the cleanest but i’m making myself do these quick sketches as a practice in letting go of perfectionism!!!
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soursugxr · 1 year ago
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Your boy is cooking.
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I’m so proud of how this patch turned out even if it does look kinda shitty, simply because I think it looks really good regardless. I hand painted the letters with an old ass brush and oil paint that got literally everywhere.
I’m 100% gonna redo the letters eventually. Maybe once I get my hands on some actual fabric paint/markers.
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Y’all have no idea how long the barbed wire embroidery took :,)
So much back pain.
The initials are a few of my Discord friends :3
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The back of this jacket is gonna be so much fun to make. I’m not sure if it’s like, too colorful? But I really like how I laid everything out. The plaid is gonna cover the really blank looking bottom corner, so essentially this design/layout is gonna be the entire back panel(?).
Five of these patches are old (clean) socks that I cut up, and one of them is part of the loop that was on one of my boots that ripped off when I was trying to pull it on, so that’s fun. Also one of them is the tag from an old shirt that I thought looked neat (I then spent almost an hour using a bent safety pin to painstakingly undo the stitches holding it on)
Also yes, I relocated the Mothman patch from the front bc I did a really fucked sewing job and kinda hated it.
Also also the patch I yoinked from that shirt tag is like, silk or some kind of silk-adjacent material so I’m gonna sew it onto some t-shirt fabric before putting it on the jacket. I realize that this could have been avoided altogether by just cutting the shirt, but I still really like the shirt and wanna keep wearing it.
I’m planning on getting a bunch of pop tabs to sew onto the shoulders of the jacket bc I don’t have studs or spikes (and I think it would look cool) so I’ll post an update on that when I get enough tabs for it.
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corvussnakee · 5 months ago
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Okay, Somehow posting a thingy with all my fuckin complaints n shtuff has helped to get my fuckin brain rolling again. Or maybe it's due to the fact that I've officially decided to open up questions to everyone and not just Rotten.
This also sorta spells the end of Rotten's ask blog... I'm sorry, truly am. Maybe one day I can bring back an Ask Blog but for right now, nah.
Besides that...
MEET SPLATTER name pending... YALL!!
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Bro I am so happy with his design. I swear, Both my Ink designs are just absolute chaos. Though I guess that's due to the fact I view Ink as being quite chaotic.
It just gets x10-ed in my head.
Anyway, so uh. How'd he get the hole in his skull? That was from his Error. They got into a little itty bitty baby fight and next thing you know he's gotten a hole in his skull.
But don't worry, Dusk/Apathy(His Dream) patched him all up and gave him some cool new chompers!!!!
Fun little personality stuff and fun facts just because why not:
- Very energetic, very easy to excite.
Bro is a ball of energy. I like to think that he just can not physically sit still. He has to be doing something. Messing with his clothes, rocking, tapping a foot, drumming his fingers on the table, he's gotta be doing something. Also it's very easy to get him riled up, especially if you bring up stuff he's interested in. Say one key word and bro is going on a full blown villain type monologue.
- Main choice of Fashion: Yami Kawaii (inspired)
I just thought it fit him. He's got like, a pill pin on the back of his scarf that helps it to keep its bow shape. Honestly he wears a lot of bandages and band aids over his bones because of the various scarring he got from his Error. Dude was not in a good situation, at all, but don't worry. He got his revenge >:3
- Doesn't drink viles.
Okay, so when Splatter first came into being I had this idea of him going feral and having to eat others to quell his hunger, thus allowing him to turn back to normal. But that didn't seem right, especially with how he is now. I mean, he still goes feral-ish but it's more controlled. But then why is this like- where are his viles? He can't drink them anymore. After the hole incident he struggles heavily to drink liquids. So most of the paint just splatters on out. But, surprise surprise that's not the only way he can get colors!! Turns out monster souls hold a shit ton of colors in them. They're like rainbow jelly-filled donuts (God that feels so morbid to say). So he eats souls to get his colors, though the souls sorta... Like... Explode jusssttt... a bit when bitten into so you can tell very easily if he just got back from a hunt. His entire front half is just covered in bright rainbow splatter.
- Childish.
He has a childish spunk to him. At least, in all my daydreams he gives off childish vibes. Just a simple little thing. He can get serious when he wants to be, but most of the time he's an annoying lil shit.
I'm gonna just put it here but both DB and Splatter have little to no respect for the Omega Timeline/Those in power. Dusk and His Cross have a bit more respect but it's more so in the sense of "We're only being nice and respectful of you because you have valuable information"
The Stars have, I guess, gone rouge. Which I like to think the Omega Timeline's council absolutely hates.
Any who, there's Splatter.
Og Ink belongs to @comyet
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purityoflust · 3 years ago
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The Smile [Jeff The Killer X Victim!Reader] [PART 2]
Jeff the killer X Victim!
WARNING: Yandere. That's it. Yandere.
I finally decided how I would write part 2 to The Smile, which is my first and most popular post on my account so far. Anyone new who has come to read this, check out my other posts as well if you'd like. I'll post more like this. I also have a Quotev account with more fanfictions.
9/12/20, 3/4 days after the top part: God, AFTER SO LONG, I FINALLY DID IT! Took me days! I'm so sorry if this is a bit lazy, it is a tiny bit rushed by the end but how would you guys feel about a detailed part 3? I'll probably go as far as a part 3 or part 4 for the final part.
The vibrations in your brain felt warm and numbing - almost like when you have a horrible migraine and you can finally feel it subsiding with your eyes closed and your fingers gently holding down onto your eyelids as if you're holding your eyes into place to prevent them from bursting out of your skull. Upon waking up you can feel cold air settling into your skin. You haven't been awake 3 minutes and you already know what you're resting on; an extremely uncomfortable metal table. You've only seen them in movies but this was real.
The sound of a singsong voice just slightly echoing through what seemed like a moderately empty room. You groaned softly as you turned your head to your right, very slowly opening your eyes. Your vision blurred in and out, which, you wanted to rub to clear it out but as you went to lift your wrists, you felt pressure around them.
Something was holding your arms down. This catches your attention, blinking multiple times while turning your head back up straight and attempting to sit up. You were hardly successful with that, struggling while grunting under your breath to pull your hands from under what seemed to be a thick rope. As you pulled harder, you sucked in your stomach out of habit before immediately coming to a halt and choking up in pain.
This whole time you were ignoring the voice that was singing eerily nearby, "You and me, always forever~"
The voice was of a male. Scratchy, shaky. Familiar.
Familiar.
You could feel a string of your heart pop out of place as your breath stopped. That's when you knew something was wrong, but it just doesn't add up. You gulp while your eyeballs vigorously glance around to see where the source was coming from, only to see a figure in a corner. It was doubled over and it was sitting down on a simple wooden chair. Doubling over a...table? An average male figure, nothing unique. Although, the clothing style was unusual. At least what was on the clothes. He wore a fluffy white hoodie and what seemed to be black pants and black-and-white converse. The problem wasn't the outfit, no. His hoodie was spotted and had patterns upon patterns of darkened and more fresh-looking blood splatter. He had long black hair down to his shoulders. And luckily, his back was facing you.
You were dumbfounded. How did you get here, why are you restrained, and why is there a blood covered man near you? Is that even blood? Maybe it's paint or a design? Some people do wear clothes that have different kinds of blood splatter designs on them. Hm. Or he's an actual murderer about to gut you like a fish.
You wanted to speak. You wanted to speak so badly but you just couldn't. As you parted your lips, your throat went dry while your gaze stayed locked onto the bloody male that sat before you. The singing made you shiver as you tried so hard to remember where you could have heard or seen him. Why can't you remember?
The male then turned around to look at you. His singing had come to a gentle halt. Your mouth closed as he did so, your throat going completely dry and your whole body feeling like an ice cube. You were greeted with cold blue eyes. They looked hungry and bloodthirsty, yet they held a warm affection as they looked into your traumatized eyes. It was almost comforting until you saw the rest of his face. His skin was snow white and his lips looked dry. That's when more attention is drawn to his lower jaw. He's smiling. Too big for a normal person.
That's when you realize. He has a large smile carved into his cheeks going from ear to ear while his own lips were curled within a smile as well. And that's when it hits you.
And it hits you hard.
The memories of hours prior start brutally crashing into you, flooding back into your numb brain. All of the realization replaced itself with agonizing anxiety, your heart starting to race at speeds that felt impossible. You could pass out, but something inside you kept you awake. Something about him and about this whole situation was making you dizzy. The male slowly stands and turns his body all the way to face you. He seemed deranged, yet, he had a very relaxed stance and body language.
Uncomfortable silence loomed in the air.
He kept staring at you before slowly taking steps forward. You watch him carefully as your head feels like it's spinning, which you could notice your vision blurring a little bit here and there. The silence is suddenly disturbed with the male speaking up again, choking up in giggles. "Oh my sweet Y/N, you're awake~" He cooed, now standing over you. He leaned himself down and reached his hand to your cheek, gently brushing your skin with his surprisingly soft thumb. He leaned his face closer to yours. The smell of booze, blood, & smoke overwhelmed your nostrils. Yet it didn't seem to bother you that much.
His touch almost kind of made you feel...at ease. Your heart slowed itself and your breathing went back to pace. You felt fine, somewhat, but something in your stomach was still sore. The more you stare at him, the more memories come flooding back. The more memories flooding back, the easier you fit the puzzles together.
"M-my...stomach..--" You stutter out painfully.
In response to this, the male turned his head over to your abdomen and gently rested his other hand onto your bandaged stomach, applying very gentle pressure on it as to not hurt you. It was still slightly painful, causing you to groan under your breath.
"Oh, this...I'm sorry, my sweet butterfly. I had to make sure you wouldn't get away, and you didn't! Don't worry, Jack patched you up, so you'll be just fine!"
You remember now. You remember it all. The chase, your friend, the salty kiss before what you thought was your demise.
You naturally wondered as well; who's Jack?
"Wh-.." You weakly force air out of your throat again to speak, "why am I..tied-?"
"Oh, so you wouldn't be able to get away. I knew you would run away, or struggles, so I had to make sure you wouldn't do that!"
He was right. You would run away and struggle to get out of whatever the hell kind of place you're in. Well, knowing what he looks like. He DID stab you, after all. Who knows what this sicko wants.
He lifts his hand from your stomach and turns back to you, gently placing both of his hands at each side of your face. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. So sweet and so innocent. I couldn't keep letting the others eat you up like candy. You're mine and only mine. I need to protect you."
"Wh-who- are you?" You weren't really all too scared for some strange reason now. You were pretty calm. Probably from all of the energy this is draining.
"His name is Jeff." A deep and gruff voice cuts in.
The both of you turn your heads to the door of the room where a tall figure in all black stood. He was about 6"4 wearing heavy boots, black jeans, and a black hoodie. His hair was a dark brown though while he wore a mask. The mask was a dark blue with black goo oozing from the eyesockets. He was pretty intimidating even just by standing idly like a character waiting to be loaded in.
"And I'm Jack." He continued, "I'm the one who took care of your wound."
Jack stepped closer, soon standing at the other side of the table. He stood at the left as Jeff stood at the right.
"He wouldn't stop insisting I help."
You just blink, unknowing of what to respond with. He pursed his lips under his dark mask, in his own thought for a moment while staring down at you. You seemed calm enough, and your still pretty fresh injury was gonna hold you back anyway.
"[P]-[Pronoun]'s gonna-!" He attempts to blurt out, only to be stopped by you.
"I won't."
You were untied at your wrists and ankles, allowing yourself to pull your legs up and rest your feet at the top of the table, propping your knees up. It made your stomach feel weird, but it felt kind of nose and felt like it was easing the pain. You wrapped your arms around your knees, looking around the room more. "What is this place?" You ask.
"It's a medical room."
"Huh.." You shrug it off. Your anxiety levels had died down and the more you actually think about it, this isn't the worst thing that's happened. Your life has been pretty fucked up and you have damaged relationships everywhere. Honestly, being around new people and being far away from others sounds not too bad right now. Not like anyone would care anyway.
The next few hours, you're introduced to everyone else at the Mansion. They've been so...unique and honestly, you're surprised some people and beings like them even exist. They were all equally surprised with how little fear you showed.
You actually got along with most of them.
The others have taken a liking to you and hope you hang around longer. Alone in the living room, you, Jeff, Jack, and others sit at the couches and chairs in the living room, chatting away and getting to know them as they get to know you.
You feel Jeff wrap his arms around you and place a gentle kiss on your forehead, making your heart skip a beat.
You found out Jeff has been stalking you for months at a time. Watching your every move, eliminating anyone in the way. Huh, no wonder so many people in your life kept disappearing. You...couldn't bring yourself to be upset or scared, let alone even sad. You felt kind of at ease.
And far from uncomfortable. Someone loved you. Maybe more than they should, but they love you.
You didn't even feel upset at the fact Jeff had murdered that friend earlier. I mean, you just met the guy, so he wasn't even a 'friend'? So you paid no mind to it.
If anything, you really liked the thrill of someone being obsessed with you. A serial killer being so infatuated with you. He could be so protective of you and get rid of anyone you asked him to! There's is an advantage here. You knew he could snap and probably kill you intentionally or unintentionally, but you didn't mind. You really had no one else, technically speaking. No one that really cared. Not as much as he did.
Maybe he isn't so bad.
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lampmanliveblogs · 2 years ago
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TOH #55
The good vibes continue back in the Owl House with Lilith patching up Hooty’s battle wounds. It’s adorable that Lilith even gave him his own nickname. Not as good as MY nicknames, but she’s trying.
(EDIT: That "TOH #50" is not supposed to be there. I accidentally copied it while copy n' pasting the text from the document where I wrote it into the tumblr post editor and then I didn't notice it until later. I've elected to let it remain though as a reminder of my failures. I don't have enough of those in my life.)
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I love this, this made me laugh. After all that hardship and trouble Lilith went through to make that scrying potion, it was not to get any strategical intelligence or information about the Emperor’s plans. No, it was so Eda could prank the guards.
I love this, because I feel like this implies that Eda has casually been pulling pranks on the castle guards for years, and Lilith has always been there to stop them because she knows how Eda thinks. But now, with Lilith gone? They won’t know what hit them!
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”Knock knock, human.”
Emperor Belly Boy here just had to have the last word, didn’t he?
Alright, let’s break this down.
In some secret room, Belos places the last piece of the eye from the portal Luz came through. It sparks a little. He turns to the camera and says his line.
First off, Belos isn’t wearing his mask at the beginning. He puts it on as he turns around so we don’t get to see his face. The question now of course is, why does he wear the mask? Is it to hide his identity? To conceal hideous disfigurement? I remember him using the essence of a palisman as eyedrops last season, I don’t imagine that’s too good for your skin. Oh, and we also get to see his hair and it looks kinda gross, I get why he’s hiding that.
Next, we shift focus towards the portal. I noticed almost immediately that this portal looks a lot different from the one we saw at the end of Young Blood, Old Souls. That portal was made from painted white metal and had large wings. This one is grey and lacks wings. This could just be an inconsistency, the creative team changing their mind about the design between seasons or such. Or it could be showing us the process of building the portal as experiments; the first prototype failed for whatever reason and this is version 2.0.
Either way, the Day of Unity is coming… and I still have no clue what the heck that means. Belos claims it is not a matter of invading the human realm or such. Considering he calls it ”Unity,” I’m thinking it may be more in line with either merging, combining or in some other way uniting the demon realm and human realm. Either by fusing them together into one or maybe connecting them through permanent portals. Or maybe he’s trying to get somewhere else; I remember seeing a theory shortly after Season 1 ended about Belos coming from a third realm, a realm of angels/divine beings. So this Day of Unity and hunt for the portal is him trying to get back home.
At this point I’m just spitballing ideas, hoping one of them is at least a little true so that I look really smart like all the actually good livebloggers.
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Oh, they’ve changed the outro quite a bit. 
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Some cute images of our main cast and then there are these two. Showing Belos and the Golden Guard together, throwing more fuel on my apprentice theory. It’s interesting that Belos has his mask on, while the Guard is removing his…
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And that concludes Episode 1 of Season 2 of The Owl House. I’m gonna go back and watch the whole episode in one go (you know, like you’re supposed to) and then I’ll see if I have any final thoughts.
(one watchthrough later)
Alright, here are some details I missed:
•Luz still has the key to the portal. Maybe Belos will need it to activate his bigger version, which will lead him into conflict with the Owl House gang again?
•The statue of Belos we see at the marketplace has a crack on the head that look eerily similar to the one Luz made in his mask in Young Blood, Old Souls. Representative of how despite his efforts, his iron grip on the Boiling isles is beginning to crack thanks to Luz’ involvement?
•I somehow missed on my first watch that the boat captain gives Luz her sailor outfit, meaning she didn't choose to dress like that herself which I initially thought.
•The purple person the ship is as far as I recall the only other character in the show we’ve seen do the whole detaching limbs thing that Eda does. This prompts me to once again raises several questions. Can everyone on the Boiling Isles do this? If not, then what determines who can? Can Lilith do it?
•On my first watch I thought the adventure n the ship was some kind of elaborate set-up for a trap, mainly based on the nod the captain gave to the Golden Guard when Luz joined. But on my second watch I’m not so sure? Maybe it was just a coincidence that Luz & Eda happened to stumble across the same ship that the Golden Guard was on and he decided to make some Plot happen. If it wasn’t a trap, then it makes the captain’s fondness of Luz very endearing and yet another example of the positive influence Luz has on the demon realm.
•I like that they used the shadow trick Garlog used at the beginning of the episode to lure the Golden Guard.
I really liked this episode. It had some comedy, some character stuff, some action, some foreshadowing and some action. The one downside to having so much stuff in one episode is that you can’t really get that much of anything. It was really obvious just how fast-paced this episode was when I watched it normally without pausing every twenty seconds. But this being the first episode of the new season it is understandable, they have a lot to set up and establish before we can do any deep dives.
Overall, a good start to the second season and I’m excited to see what the rest has to offer!
I’ll see you again soon. Until then, take care of the planet Earth and remember that anything can happen in space!
<--Previous Episode: Young Blood, Old Souls
Masterlist
Next Episode: Escaping Expulsion-->
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songsformonkeys · 4 years ago
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Digging Up Bones (whiskey x f!reader) - chapter 3
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[Banner by the lovely @yespolkadotkitty ]
Summary: You work for the Statesmen as the head of their medical department. It’s your job to patch up anyone who gets back wounded and to work on ways to prevent them from getting badly wounded in the first place.
Agent Whiskey, in particular, seems to be more accident-prone than the rest and he never passes up a reason to come see you, whether for real injuries or imaginary ones. The two of you form a close friendship, which slowly turns into something more.
Then a British man with a headshot wound and a fascination with butterflies shows up in your emergency room and in the events that follow you’re forced to reevaluate just about everything you thought you knew about your partner.
Warnings: canon typical violence
Masterlist
Chapter 3
The following three days passed in a slow fashion. Not just because Whiskey was gone but the rest of the agents seemed to be staying out of harm's way as well. It was a bit boring, but that was something Tonic had taught you not to complain about out loud since it apparently made it sound like you longed for injuries and carnage.
On the bright side, the slow days gave you, Ginger, and Tonic time to begin interviewing the agents on base for their emergency folders for the Alpha-gel.
The three of you had realized that while the gel and the nanites healed the brain perfectly fine they still needed something to counter the retrograde amnesia, which seemed to be a standard side effect. The sample of agents that had needed to use the gel was still small and so you couldn't draw too many sure conclusions from it, but every single one of them so far had suffered memory loss. It had been Tonic's idea that reminders of a past trauma might jump-start the memory again. The results had been good but guessing and digging up past traumas had been painstakingly difficult and had taken up more time than ideal. So you had collectively decided that each agent should have a file or a folder containing their very worst memory and ways it could be triggered.
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 On Wednesday evening, you curled up in your armchair and called Whiskey. He picked up after three rings.
“Moonshine, “ he drawled, voice sounding a little tired.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” you asked, suddenly feeling a little bad. It wasn't that late in the evening but maybe Whiskey had needed to tuck in early.
“No no, I was awake,” Whiskey assured you, “Just got home from a looong day at an art auction. I'm not sure if you've ever been but it is possibly the most boring thing I have ever done.”
“Yeah? What was so bad about it?” you asked, smiling to yourself. You would be caught dead before admitting it out loud but you had actually missed him these past few days.
Whiskey began describing his day. A soon as he began talking, his voice relaxed you. You pictured him walking around in a swanky hotel room, with a view of the big city, probably still wearing his hat. You were half convinced he even slept in that thing.
Whiskey told you about the auction and the few stuck-up people who had pretended not to understand his southern accent just to make him feel less than. Then he told you about the way he'd later wiped the smug smiles off their faces by actually bidding home the small painting they had been ogling.
“Champ might kill me for it, 'cause it cost a small fortune, but it was worth it!”
“What will you do with the painting?” you asked.
“Hm,” Whiskey said and you didn't need to see him to know that he was shrugging, “Dunno. Might hang it in my apartment. It's a beautiful painting, reminded me of someone special... Speaking of my apartment, have you finished the cake yet?”
You nodded, before remembering that he couldn't see you.
“Yes, Ginger and Tonic helped me eat the rest of it.”
You had been over to Whiskey's apartment the day after he'd left. When you'd gotten to work, his key had been in a white envelope on your desk and you hadn't been able to keep your curiosity at bay for longer than a workday.
The apartment hadn't been quite what you thought Whiskey's home would look like. It had been much neater and cleaner than you had expected, for starters. You had expected more of a bachelor pad but Whiskey's apartment was quite nice. It looked lived in but not messy. Each thing seemed to have its own designated spot. As you had walked around the living room towards the kitchen you had taken in the big, comfortable-looking couch and multi-colored knitted blanket that looked like it was homemade.
There had been a couple of books on art history resting on the wooden coffee table. You had stopped, slightly in awe, in front of the big bookshelves that covered a whole wall of the room. You'd never pictured Whiskey to be the reading type, but here was clear proof otherwise. You had scanned the titles of the books and the exceptionally wide array of subjects made you suspect that a lot of these had been read for previous missions. But there had been a whole shelf of fiction too and you smiled a little as you noted that a lot of them seemed to be old western classics.
You had found the cake in the fridge in the equally clean kitchen. The cake had been in a plastic container and Whiskey had stuck a post-it note with a smiley on the lid.
“I liked your bookshelf. And I borrowed a book from you,“ you confessed over the phone and Whiskey chuckled in response.
“Is that so? Which one, if I may ask, was it that caught your fancy?”
“Lonesome Dove.”
“Ah, a classic! Didn't have you pegged as a western girl, Moonshine.”
“I'm not sure if I am, I've never read any. But you had a lot of them and I thought...” You cut yourself off, glancing over at the book on your bed, “You had a book on human anatomy as well that looked interesting and one on make-shift medical treatment when you don't have access to a hospital. I didn't take those, though. It felt wrong to take so many books without asking...”
Whiskey chuckled again and the sound did weird things to your insides, or maybe it was the nerves of having just admitted to raiding his bookshelf.
“Darlin', if it makes you happy, you are more than welcome to help yourself to any book in that apartment”
“Really? But what if it's a book that you suddenly need?”
“Then I'll know perfectly well where to find it.”
You couldn't really argue with that logic, didn't really want to either because the prospect of getting to read all those books almost made you giddy.
“So besides ogling my books, what else have you been up to while I've been gone?” Whiskey asked and you proceeded to tell him about the work with the Trauma Folders, which Tonic so affectionately called them.
“You still haven't submitted yours either, by the way,” you told him. Whiskey didn't immediately answer. The line was dead silent for a few seconds and just when you were about to ask if he was still there, he cleared his throat.
“Yeah, I know. I promise to get right on that as soon as I'm back, okay?” He sounded a little odd and your brow furrowed slightly. Whiskey cleared his throat again.
“Look, darlin', I'm pretty dead on my feet right now and as lovely as your voice is to listen to, I think unfortunately we gotta hang up before I start snoring on you.”
“Oh, of course! Sorry, I've talked too much.”
“Hardly,” Whiskey replied and his voice was warm and soft again, which eased the nervous knots that had begun forming in your stomach at his abrupt attempt to end the call. Usually, that was your role to try and say goodnight and his to try and linger. “I cherish every word, which is why I prefer to be awake for them. Call me tomorrow again?”
“Sure. Good night, Whiskey.”
“Good night, darlin'”
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 If the previous days had been slow, the following day was anything but, at least when the afternoon rolled around.
Ginger had called you about some very strange low-frequency readings coming from a church nearby in Kentucky. She told you that she and Tequila were gonna go check it out but that you should be on standby, just in case.
You told her to be careful. Ginger was excellent at her job but she was also one of your closest friends and you couldn't help but worry.
After you'd ended the call, you immediately set about preparing the emergency room and double-checking to make sure everything was there. Seeing as neither of you knew what the strange readings had been about, it was difficult to prepare for every possible scenario, and while you knew that the health effects of exposure to extremely low frequencies were being discussed in the medical community, no one knew exactly what the effects were.
It seemed like a lifetime had passed before Ginder called you again. You heard the sound of the helicopter in the background. She told you that they'd be there in thirty and that they were bringing someone in with a headshot.
“I'll get the chamber ready for him!” you told her
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Thirty minutes later, on the dot, you watched as the helicopter landed and Tequila emerged, carrying a man in a suit. The man's face was obscured by the balloon containing the Alpha-gel but his clothes looked expensive.
“Entry point?” you yelled, over the sound of the helicopter as you waved for Tequila and Ginger to hurry inside.
“Straight through the left eye,” Ginger replied and you winced. The left temporal lobe would be damaged, for sure, maybe part of the occipital one too. You were confident that the nanites would be able to rebuild the brain matter but with the temporal lobe damaged you worried that the memory loss might be even more extensive than what you'd seen before and you wondered if it would affect his speech.
“Exit point or is the bullet still in there?” you asked.
“The bullet went all the way through as far as I could tell. Not sure what he was shot with though so we'll have to scan to make sure there's nothing left in there.”
Said and done. When you got down to the medical rooms you first put the man through a thorough scan of his skull. Just like Ginger suspected, the bullet had gone straight through and it luckily hadn't left anything but damaged tissue in its wake. Tequila helped move him over to the nanite chamber. Carefully, you removed the Alpha-gel balloon and quickly closed the chamber around his head.
“What happened?” you asked as you sat down in front of the computer and began tapping away at the keyboard, starting the machine and readying it for the healing and rebuilding process.
“We have no idea,” Ginger said. “We found him like this outside the church, no sign of who had shot him. Inside the church, however...”
“What?” you asked.
“Inside was a total fuckin' bloodbath,” Tequila supplied, “Whole congregation just...slaughtered.”
You looked over at the strange man.
“You think he did it?”
Both Ginger and Tequila shrugged.
“We don't know. But he's got blood on him that isn't his own and there was no gun in his hand so he clearly didn't shoot himself, which means someone got away from that Church alive.” Ginger reasoned, “And there's one more thing..”
She pulled a pair of glasses from the pocket of her jacket. The left glass was shattered.
“He was wearing these. These aren't normal glasses, which means he's not a civilian. And his watch... he's some sort of intelligence. I'll dig around and see if I can find out whom he belongs to.”
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 You called Whiskey again that evening. He sounded more awake today but you could practically hear the frown on his face when you told him about your strange new guest. He was not happy.
“He's an agent?” he asked.
“We think so. Ginger is running some tests on his glasses and his watch to see what we can figure out but so far we have no idea whom he's working for. So we just have to wait for him to wake up and see how much he remembers.”
“I don't like this,” Whiskey stated. “Not one bit. If he's intelligence, he's dangerous, Moonshine. You shouldn't be alone with him, not under any circumstances!”
“I won't,” you reassured him while rolling your eyes. “Agent Tequila also has an over-protective streak and has, therefore, put himself on guard duty until further notice. I've had him looking over my shoulder all evening.”
You had found it somewhat annoying but Whiskey had instantly calmed down upon hearing that bit of information. He told you to promise to listen to Tequila on this, which you reluctantly did. You didn't tell Whiskey that if the arrangement continued, you would have to come to some sort of agreement with Tequila on how close was close enough for protection. You couldn't have him reading over your shoulder all day long or you'd go stir crazy.
Whiskey continued to ask you a bunch of questions about the strange man and you couldn't answer a single one. He asked you about the signal too and you couldn't give him any answers to that either. It was all Ginger's area of expertise and you told him as much.
“Sorry, darlin', just wanna make sure my favorite girl is safe until I get back.”
Whiskey's words made you smile stupidly, despite the slightly patronizing undertone of them. You would like to think you knew how to take care of yourself, especially around your patients. But you did enjoy it when Whiskey called you his favorite. No one else had called you their favorite before.
After a few more minutes of chit-chat, you both said good night.
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 The next day, your patient woke up.
It had been decided the day before that Tonic and Tequila would be the first ones to greet him. Tequila because of the whole bodyguard business and Tonic because he was by far the one who had the most experience with calming people in shock and panic. You had only sulked a little when you'd sat down the desk on the other side of the one-way mirror showing you the stranger's cell. You turned on the cameras in the other room to record the interaction before leaning forward over the desk to watch.
As anticipated, the man was more than a little freaked out by waking up in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces around him.
“Where am I? Who are you?” he immediately asked and you raised your eyebrows as you noted his British accent. The stranger tried to scramble off the bed where he'd been lying. Tequila took a step forward but Tonic quickly held up a hand to stop him.
“You are in a hospital,” Tonic told the frightened man and gave him a calm smile, “My name is To...Tom.”
“A hospital? What happened?” the stranger asked.
“We were hoping you would be able to tell us. You were in some sort of accident and when we found you, you were unconscious.”
Unconscious... that was definitely an understatement to describing having had one's brains blown out through the back of their head.
“Do you remember anything of what happened?” Tonic continued.
The British man looked around the room with wild eyes but he was already calming down a bit. While you were a bit jealous that Tonic, or Tom apparently, was the first one to get to talk to your new patient you had to admit that it was a privilege to get to watch him work. Tonic continued talking to the man and answering his questions by saying just enough to calm him but not enough to confuse him.
You found out that his name was Harry, but he couldn't remember his last name. He was from England and he thought he was 23 years old, which he most definitely was not. You caught Tonic and Tequila exchange a look as Harry told them his age. If Harry couldn't remember anything beyond his 23rd year then you estimated that he had forgotten more than half of his life. And since he wasn't one of your agents, you had no idea how to bring those memories back again...
Tonic and Harry spoke for a while longer and Tonic told him about his injuries. He also told harry about the memory loss. Harry didn't believe him until Tonic guided him over to the one-way mirror separating you from them and let Harry have a look at himself. You stood on the other side of the mirror and could watch as realization dawned on Harry. His breathing immediately sped up again and he was beginning to panic.
“Harry,” Tonic said calmly, “Harry, I'm gonna need you to breathe slower with me, okay? We've seen this kind of memory loss before and we will do our very best to help you recover the memories you can't remember right now”
“Think of it as one hell of a hangover,” Tequila supplied and Harry gave him an incredulous look.
“Hangover?” he asked in a weak voice “I look old enough to be a grandfather and I don't remember any of it... I don't think anyone has ever been drunk enough for that kind of hangover.
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Tonic and Tequila handled the whole ordeal in a way that made you proud to call yourself their colleague and they stayed with Harry for most of the day, talking and explaining. Harry listened patiently and you had to give him credit for taking the situation a whole lot better than some of the Statesmen who had gone through the same thing. He was scared and worried, sure, but he managed to keep his panic in check and asked Tonic a whole bunch of relevant questions.
You wished you could have stayed and watched all afternoon but eventually you had to go back to your own office and begin typing up your report.
You had barely gotten two paragraphs in when your phone started ringing.
“Moonshine?” Whiskey said as soon as you picked up and you could immediately tell that something was wrong. He sounded scared. There were car horns blaring and loud crashes in the background.
“Yes. Whiskey what's...”
Whiskey cut you off before you could finish your question.
“Where are you?” he asked and when it took you a fraction of a second too long to answer, he repeated the question, “Moonshine! Where are you?”
“I'm in the office. Whiskey what's wrong?”
“Good! Whatever you do, stay where you are! There's something in the air! People are killing each other!”
“What?” Before you could say anything further, your door burst open and you screamed from surprise.
“Moonshine!” Whiskey yelled, panicked, as Ginger stormed into the office and pushed you out of her way to get to the computer. She began tapping on the keyboard and you watched as she pulled up live feeds from several cameras around the country. Your mouth fell open as you watched the chaos that filled the screen.
“MOONSHINE!” Whiskey yelled again and you realized you hadn't answered him.
“I'm fine!” you quickly assured him and you heard him exhale loudly. “Ginger just showed up. What the hell is going on?” The last question was aimed at them both. The quality of the feeds wasn't the best but there was no mistaking what was going on. All over the country, people were killing each other.
“The fuck if I know,” Whiskey said at the same time as Ginger supplied the slightly more helpful “It's the same signal! It's the same low frequency as we picked up from the church. But this is all over...well the world”
She turned and looked at the phone in your hand.
“Is that agent Whiskey?”
You nodded but then froze as you heard a banging noise on the other end of the line, which sounded much closer than the previous ones. You heard Whiskey curse.
“Whiskey?”
There was another crash and he cursed again.
“I'm sorry, darlin', I seem to have a visitor. I gotta go.”
“Whiskey,” you begged and you heard your own voice break as you spoke his name.
“Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll deal with this and then I promise I'll come right home to you. You just promise to stay inside and stay safe, okay?”
What about you? you wanted to ask, but Whiskey had already hung up.
“He'll be fine,” said Ginger, who must have seen the expression change on your face. You nodded. She was right. Whiskey was an excellent agent. He would be fine.
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 He would be fine. You managed to convince yourself of that up until about an hour later when the office phone called. You were too busy clutching your own phone, waiting for Whiskey to call back, to pay any attention to the other phone so Ginger picked it up and answered. She exchanged a few cryptic comments with the person on the other line before ending the call by saying:
“We'll be ready for him.”
After she'd hung up the phone she turned towards you.
“Whiskey's on his way back. He's been stabbed but according to the pilot, he's stable. They're flying him back now. “
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gogtopia · 4 years ago
Text
after doomsday (~1.3k)
time traveller!Karl returns to the time he belongs in and is faced with the ruins of L’Manberg, having not been here since the day before the festival. (ft some karlnapity)
NOTE: this work takes place within the dream smp roleplay. i do not ship/write fic about the actual creators, only the characters they play
Karl’s breath returned to him all at once as he popped back into the correct place in time, book clutched to his chest. He still hadn’t been able to get used to this time travel thing super well and had been popping into the wrong time over and over. But he had gotten it right this time; he was sitting in Church Prime, after all.
He went to head home, back to L’Manberg, and he lost his breath all over again. Because what laid before him was not the home that he’d left behind. It wasn’t much of anything at all other than a seemingly bottomless pit with ash still floating in the wind. The obsidian structures in the sky painted a sinister picture. Whatever happened here, it wasn’t some random accident. It was an intentional attack on his home.
How long had he been gone? The last thing he remembered before traveling through time was working with Ranboo to fix up the country for the upcoming festival, an event designated to celebrate L’Manberg as a nation. When had all of that fallen apart?
Who had fallen with it?
Karl wasn’t sure exactly where to go at first. He didn’t know who would be left standing if anyone was at all. Maybe they’d be gathered back at Eret’s castle. But, then again, if L’Manberg had fallen victim to an attack like this, the Dream SMP as a nation was probably the most likely culprit. He didn’t want to walk directly into his own execution. He didn’t think that Eret would be so cruel but, given what had become of his home, he wasn’t sure what to think.
He made his way toward El Rapids instead. His other home, though they had never really gotten very far in building it. Sparing one more glance back to the crater where L’Manberg once stood, Karl smiled half-heartedly. At least, after all of this, his Pokimane statue still stood.
As he passed through Boomerville, he was astounded at how many things seemed the same. It was like L’Manberg had been wiped off the map and everything else had simply remained frozen in time. Had he somehow fucked up time with the book?
“Karl!” a voice called out.
He turned to see Lazar peeking his head out of his home. He looked old, but that wasn’t really unusual. The fact that he was alive at all was a good sign.
“What the honk happened?” he asked him.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” he replied with a shrug. “Vikk and I were out on a mining trip for two days and we come back and a whole bloody country is gone. I think H was there but he’s passed out in his place right now. Must have been some festival, I guess.”
Two days. That meant that he wasn’t so far off in time that everybody was gone. Unless… No. He didn’t want to think about that.
“Where is everybody?” he asked Lazar.
“No fucking clue,” he replied. “We didn’t get back that long ago. I assume they’re taking shelter in other places in the server or are off building places in the wilderness. I thought you’d know. Where have you been?”
He thought about the book in his hand and how the pages had been slowly filling. “It’s really hard to explain. But I think that I should go.”
Lazar followed his glance toward El Rapids. “Yeah, go on, mate. If nobody’s around, you’re free to sleep on my floor or something. Just don’t steal any more of my shit.”
“Thanks,” he said with an absent nod before continuing toward El Rapids.
For all that they’d done to secure the validity of El Rapids, it wasn’t much. It was a pretty small plot of land, though they claimed a few other spots to be part of the country proper, and only really consisted of two buildings: the pyramid and a smaller building that he still wasn’t sure the purpose of.
“Hello!” he called out absently as he got closer, hoping for a response and not expecting one at the same.
“Karl?” came Quackity’s voice in response and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“We’re in the pyramid,” Sapnap added.
They were here. They were safe, and they were here.
He ran into the pyramid, dodging the creepers and spiders that always seemed to reside inside, and made his way into the small redstone room in the center of it, where he found his fiances sitting together on the ground, covered in ash as they patched each other up.
Sapnap was scratched up but looked pretty okay overall. Quackity, however, didn’t seem to be doing as well, with bandages all over and haphazard stitches that were probably done by Sapnap on his forehead. He wasn’t in good shape and would probably have to pay Ponk a visit to get patched up in the morning, but there didn’t appear to be any immediate danger to his health.
He felt like an asshole, standing there without a scratch on him as the men he loved had clearly fought very hard in the past two days.
“Where were you?” Quackity asked and Karl braced for the impact of his yelling for missing out on whatever had happened.
“Were you safe?” he asked instead.
His shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, I was safe.”
“Wherever you were, you missed a lot,” Sapnap told him.
“George fucking missed it too,” Quackity complained. “We come back to Sapnap’s base for supplies afterward and he’s fucking sleeping. At least he didn’t get hurt, though. We came back here after so that you’d be able to find us.”
“Did something happen at the festival?” he asked.
Sapnap and Quackity shared a resigned glance.
“Look, L’Manberg is gone, that much is over. And as far as I know, everyone made it out,” Quackity told him. “I know what I think we should do going forward, even if everyone seems to have a different idea about how to approach it. Either way, the ash is still settling and for tonight, we can take a goddamn break.” “And what’ll we do tomorrow?”
“I have no fucking clue,” Quackity said with a shrug. “Regroup, I guess. All I know is that, in the end, we can’t let Dream continue doing this shit. We have to take him down.”
Karl turned his gaze to Sapnap, who he expected to push back against this point of view, even after everything that had happened between him and his friend.
But instead, a fire burned in his eyes. “He needs to know that he’s not invincible. The Dream that destroyed L’Manberg isn’t the guy I became best friends with ages ago or, fuck, maybe he was and I never saw it before. I’m not going to let the entire server suffer just because he used to care about me.”
“And what about George?”
Quackity let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. “George doesn’t give a shit about anything. He won’t fight for us, not about the serious stuff. But, at this point, he’s not about to fight for Dream either. I think I speak for the group when I say that we have his back, no matter what, but I don’t know if he has ours.”
“I think, if it came down to a choice between us and Dream, George would choose us,” Sapnap said quietly. “Dream hurt him too. But if he doesn’t want to fight, let’s not force him into the fray.”
“You’ll fight with us, right Karl?” Quackity asked.
And, well, Karl was never much of a fighter in any shape or form. He lacked the physical skill and training that Sapnap did and didn’t have a scrap of the political talent that Quackity was able to weaponize. In the end, Karl was just a guy, but he was a guy that knew who he cared about.
“I will,” he promised.
“So, are you gonna tell us what that book is about?” Quackity asked.
He smiled brightly. “Would it be okay if I told the two of you a story?”
The tension in the air dissipated ever so slightly as his fiances looked at him with soft smiles of adoration.
“Of course, Karl,” Sapnap said. “Tell us a story.”
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maybeimamuppet · 4 years ago
Text
someone gets hurt
“Janis! Janis!” Cady calls, rushing up to her at the end of the school day.
“Babe, you good?” Janis asks worriedly as her girlfriend barrels into her.
Cady nods rapidly. “Yes! Principal Duvall just told me I’m the valedictorian!”
Janis gasps, wrapping her in a hug. “You are? Oh my god, baby! That’s great! I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you,” Cady giggles from in her embrace. “Are you staying to paint today?”
“Yeah, you want to come?” Janis asks, plotting in her head. Cady has worked so hard this year, she deserves to be valedictorian, arbitrary as the title is. Janis should do something.
“Always,” Cady grins, leaning up for a kiss and taking her hand to lead them to the art rooms. “How is Damian?”
“He’s fine, it’s just a sprain. Texted me earlier high off his ass on painkillers though, that was funny,” Janis chuckles. “Said there was a dragon in his mashed potatoes.”
“Janis! Don’t laugh at him, you know he has a phobia of broken bones. He’s lucky it was just a sprain. Poor guy,” Cady chides.
“He fell down the stairs! I’m allowed to laugh,” Janis defends.
They’d decided to have lunch in the auditorium today, just for fun. Damian had finished eating early and showed off some complicated choreography from his college audition cuts. He’d absolutely nailed them, but during his bows and basking in the applause of his friends, had fallen down the stairs and sprained his foot. He’d fallen into a panic attack, thinking he had broken it, and was taken to the hospital almost immediately.
“He’s your best friend! I’m gonna tell him you laughed,” Cady threatens.
Janis snorts. “You little narc. Go ahead, he laughed at me when I broke my tailbone when we went roller skating.”
“Hmph. Who are you texting?”
Janis had pulled out her phone to text Regina. She loves throwing parties and giving gifts, she might have some ideas for something Janis could do to surprise Cady.
“Uh, my mom. I actually can’t stay today, uhm... Jules is... sick. I have to go help my mom take care of her,” Janis lies through her teeth.
“Oh. Okay. Do you need me to get her anything?” Cady asks, miraculously not having noticed. She struggles reading people sometimes.
“No, don’t worry about it, baby. It’s just a cold, but she gets really whiny and stuff whenever she’s sick,” Janis explains. That’s true, at least.
“Poor thing. Tell her I hope she feels better soon. I’m going to go visit Damian,” Cady says, popping up on her tippy toes to kiss her goodbye.
“Okay, baby. Tell him I said hi,” Janis responds, kissing her back. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Good luck,” Cady says back.
“Thanks,” Janis chuckles.
————-
“Hi, Dame,” Cady says sadly as she knocks on the door of his hospital room.
“Hey, Cads!” Damian says.
Cady chuckles as she comes to sit by his bed. “You sound better.”
“I got, like, hella painkillers a while ago. Went on some fun daydreams,” Damian replies. “Not high anymore though.”
“Good, I don’t know if I could handle you all hopped up,” Cady giggles. “Janis said you texted her something about a dragon in your mashed potatoes while she was in math class.”
“I did? Oh god, she’s never gonna let me live that down,” Damian sighs. “Oh well.”
“I’ll make her go easy on you,” Cady says confidently, pulling out an activity book she had made during study hall. “I made this for you. I know it’s a little childish, but I figured you might want something to do.”
“Aww! Thanks, Caddy. Ooh, connect the dots,” Damian responds as he flips through it. “What’s the matter?”
Cady turns from where she’s standing, frowning as she looks out the window. His view goes across the street, looking over a coffee shop. Janis lied? She’s in the shop, sitting with... Regina George. Hm. They’re laughing at something.
“Huh? Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it,” Cady says through grit teeth, coming back  to his side and trying to hide her seething jealousy. He doesn’t need that right now. “So, how long are you stuck in here?”
“I get out tonight, once they’re totally sure I’m not reacting to anything they’ve given me,” Damian replies. “I’m not going to be in school for about a week, though. I’m not supposed to walk even with crutches until then.”
“You poor thing,” Cady responds as she rolls her shoulders to get rid of the tension.  “I’ll visit you as much as I can, but I just got a huge English project that’s gonna take me a while.”
Damian pats her hand comfortingly. “I get it, Cads, don’t worry about it. I have this cool book to work on.”
Cady chuckles. “I’ll send other people to come keep you company on the days I can’t. And you have Pippa in the meantime.”
Damian laughs outright at that. His french bulldog doesn’t make a great caregiver. “Thanks, little slice.”
“Anytime.”
—————
“So how was Julie?” Cady asks during her daily morning meet-up with Janis on Monday. She wants to hear what Janis has to say, now that she knows she lied.
Janis doesn’t even look up from her phone, tapping away texts to... someone. Probably Regina. “Hm? Oh, she was fine, thanks. Just needed a rest. How was Damian?”
“He was fine,” Cady huffs. Janis had lied again. Janis hums noncommittally. “He went on a quest to fight dragons with a fairy princess and took me. I was an elf. You should really come next time. He’s a wizard, you know. I’m surprised you didn’t notice before. The doctor even had an enchanted sword.”
“Good for him,” Janis replies, having taken in nothing. The bell rings then, making them both jump. “Oh shit. Have a good day, baby. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Cady responds, blinking in surprise at the quick kiss pressed to her lips before Janis runs to class. What the hell is going on with her?
-
Janis continues acting oddly into the next day. She’s not at lunch on Tuesday, and neither is Regina. Cady plops her tray of meatloaf on the table and sits down with a huff, startling Gretchen and Karen.
“You okay, Cady?” Gretchen asks worriedly. “You look tense.”
Cady stabs her meatloaf so hard that a few of the tines snap off her plastic fork. “Peachy. Has Regina told you guys anything? About what she’s been up to lately? Janis has been acting so weird, and I think Regina is part of it.”
“Um, no,” Karen lies. Regina had told them the plan to surprise Cady, so they actually knew everything. They had been sworn to secrecy.
“Yeah, we don’t know anything,” Gretchen piggybacks. “How has Janis been acting weird?”
“She... she lied to me,” Cady answers, realizing this may be more serious than she had originally thought. “I got chosen as valedictorian, I thought maybe we could go have dinner or something to celebrate after we visited Damian, but she said her sister was sick. But she wasn’t, Janis was in the coffee shop with Regina.”
“With Regina? Are you sure?” Karen responds. “Regina was with us Friday. And they still, like, totally aren’t friends. X emoji.”
“It was definitely Janis, at least,” Cady says sadly. “I guess it might not have been Regina. But how many other platinum blondes that wear full designer outfits would Janis know? Maybe it was before you guys hung out.”
“That is totally strange,” Gretchen responds, anxious about lying. She tries to change the subject quickly. “Has Janis done anything else weird?”
Cady takes the bait. “She wouldn’t stop texting yesterday, or this morning. I don’t know who she was talking to, but she didn’t even listen to me. I made up some story about Damian and I fighting dragons and she just said ‘good for him’.”
“Dragons? That’s so fetch,” Karen responds. “I want to meet a dragon. It’s one of my life goals, sunrise emoji.”
“Karen, sweetie, no. She said she made it up, remember? Dragons aren’t real,” Gretchen says quietly, squeezing her hand.
“That’s not fetch,” Karen huffs, going quiet.
“I know, sweetie. Anyway, I wouldn’t worry too much, Cady,” Gretchen says as she tries to comfort her girlfriend. “Janis is, like, head over heels for you. It’ll work out.”
“It better,” Cady grumbles. “Oh, hey, can you guys pop in to see Damian after school? Just for a little while, make sure he’s okay? I told him I’d have people drop by on days I couldn’t go see him.”
“Why can’t you go?” Gretchen asks, genuinely curious.
“I got this English project Friday, I have to work on it. I’m supposed to pick a career I want in the future and make a presentation about it, and it has to be five minutes long! I don’t even know what I want to do for a job,” Cady sighs.
“You can do it, Cady, you’re super smart,” Karen pipes up again. “Notebook emoji. But, like, shrug emoji, would Damian even want to see us?”
“Why wouldn’t he want to see you? He really likes you guys now. You’re not mean to him or Janis anymore, he doesn’t have anything against you guys anymore,” Cady says sadly. “You guys don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but he’d love to see you. You’re his friends.”
Of course we’ll go, we don’t have anything going on,” Gretchen responds. They need to fill him in on the plan, anyway.
“Oh, thank you,” Cady breathes with relief. “I owe you one.”
“It’s fine, Cady. Good luck with your project,” Gretchen says.
“Ugh,” Cady grumbles at the reminder, slamming her head into the table.
————-
By Wednesday afternoon, Cady is at her wits end. She hasn’t slept in two days researching for her project, and Janis still won’t pay attention to her. She’d gotten confirmation that it had been Regina with Janis at the coffee shop, so Gretchen and Karen had also lied to her face.
She heads to the art rooms after school to watch Janis paint, needing a break from her own thoughts. Even if she is a bit angry with Janis. Maybe this will patch things up.
Cady loves watching Janis paint. She loves the cute way her brow furrows and her tongue pokes out to the side whenever she tries to focus, the way every stroke of the brush seems to have a purpose. Janis can create gorgeous scenes just from her mind, as if the brush in her hand is simply an extension of her imagination. Cady loves watching a few simple sketches or swipes of her paintbrush turn to incredible works of art.
Cady’s tried to paint with her a few times, only succeeding in creating a blotchy mess of colors and a few vague shapes, but Janis always cheered her on and pointed out the things she had done well. Cady decided she likes watching Janis paint more than doing it herself, but they have painting mini-dates from time to time that they both enjoy immensely.
She opens the door quietly when she finally reaches the classroom, in hopes of surprising her girlfriend. She winds up getting the surprise herself, finding none other than Regina talking to Janis. Again. Regina is sitting haughtily on the counter, facing Cady but not looking at her. There’s a strangely excited glint in her eyes. Janis is leaning against a desk facing Regina, so her back is to Cady.
They’re awfully close together, Cady thinks as her face falls and her chest burns with envy. She thanks her lucky stars they haven’t spotted her yet, allowing her to eavesdrop for a second. She tries desperately to tamp down the voice growling ‘get away from my girlfriend’  in her head. There has to be some explanation.
Cady can’t quite pick up most of their conversation, but she does hear Regina say, “Cady’s not going to find out, Janis,” and lean closer.
That’s all she needs to hear. She feels herself let out a harsh sob, turning on her heel and running from the room. Janis whirls around just before the door slams shut behind her. “Caddy! Shit,” she calls as  she breaks into a sprint after her. “Baby, please wait, let me explain!”
“What the fuck is there to explain, Janis?!” Cady yells at her, walking backwards for a second. “Just leave me alone. Go to her, I hope she makes you happy.” And with that, she turns and continues running.
“Baby, please,” Janis begs, reaching for her. Cady doesn’t turn back around.
-
Cady winds up running the whole mile back to her house without noticing, ignoring the worried calls of her parents as she barrels up the stairs to her bedroom, throwing her backpack off and burrowing under her covers. Her chest is starting to hurt with how hard she’s sobbing. Maybe she’s feeling her heart breaking.
How could I be so stupid with love again? Of course Janis would pick Regina over me. Regina has every American standard of beauty down pat, and a good personality now. What do I have?
She hears her phone pinging frantically, looking to see texts flooding in from Janis and Regina, both begging her to let Janis explain. She flips it to silent after sending her parents a text, letting them know to turn Janis away should she turn up at any point.
How could they do this to me? I understand why Janis chose her, but how could she be so cruel? Regina is supposed to be nicer now, how could she do this? It’s fucking Aaron all over again. I caught feelings for Janis and she snatched her away. And Janis... did she ever love me? How could she do this?
She rolls onto her side and soaks her pillow in tears, deciding she gets the decision to swear off of dating now.
-
Janis loses Cady as she reaches the main doors, panting with exertion. She turns to head back to the classroom to grab her bag.
“Janis, I’m so sorry, I had no idea she was there or I wouldn’t have phrased it like that,” Regina bursts out as soon as she enters, looking near tears.
“Reg, it... it’ll be fine. It has to be. I’ll go find her and try to explain again, I guess. Better to ruin the surprise than have her think I’m cheating on her,” Janis says in response, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and moving quickly back towards the door.
Regina sighs heavily. “Okay, good luck. I’ll text her too. God, she looked so... broken.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Reggie. Later,” Janis calls over her shoulder, hurrying towards the entrance to the building.
She pulls her phone from her pocket as she walks to Cady’s house, figuring that must be where she’s gone.
Jellybean: caddy that wasn’t what it looked like i promise
Jellybean: are you okay??
Jellybean: please let me explain
Jellybean: caddy you know me you know i wouldn’t do that to you please
Jellybean: baby??
Cady hasn’t answered or even read any of her messages by the time Janis is knocking on the door.
“Cady says she doesn’t want to see you,” Cady’s mother says harshly, protective of her cub.
“Mrs. Heron, please, I need to explain. She didn’t see what she thought she did,” Janis begs.
Mrs. Heron sighs. “Janis, I want to believe you, but Cady has been hurt by this Regina girl before. You need to leave, give her time. I’ll tell her you came by.”
She closes the door before Janis can get another word out. Give her time, Janis thinks as she walks to Damian’s house next, seething with anger.
-
Cady’s father wakes her up just before dinner, softly stroking her hair. She must have cried herself to sleep.
“Janis came by,” he says carefully. “Your mother sent her away like you asked.”
Cady immediately bursts into tears at the mention of her now ex-girlfriend. “I don’t wanna see her again. I want to switch schools.”
“Shh, binti. You’re a month away from graduation, you’re not switching schools. But you can stay home tomorrow. What happened?”
Cady cries harder. “Janis was-was talking to Regina in the art room and-and they were so close together and then Janis said something and R-Regina said that-that I wouldn’t find out about it,” she wails into his shoulder.
“Shh, ndege wangu mdogo wa wimbo. Did you hear what it was you wouldn’t find out about?” Her father hushes.
“She’s cheating on me! With Regina,” Cady sobs. “What else could it be?”
“Did you hear them say that? Or see them do anything?”
“No,” she admits shyly.
“Then you don’t know. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, you’re going to jump into your grave one of these times,” her father chides gently. “You don’t have to today, or even anytime soon, but you should hear Janis out at some point, let her explain.”
“Fine,” Cady sniffs. “But what is she hiding? Janis tells me everything.”
“That I don’t know, binti. You take some time to think. I’ll bring up your dinner.” And with a forehead kiss, her father leaves her alone.
-
“Whoa whoa whoa, what?” Damian asks hastily, interrupting Janis. “Start again and slow down.”
“Caddy found me talking to Regina and now she thinks I’m cheating. She said she didn’t want to see me and won’t even read my texts,” she growls.
“Wow. That’s... out of character for her,” Damian says in shock.
“I know! I don’t know what to do, she won’t let me explain anything,” Janis huffs, terrified she might lose her girlfriend over something so stupid. “And now I’m wondering what the hell she really thinks of me. If she can’t trust me enough to know I would never cheat on her, especially with Regina fucking George, then should we even be together?”
“That’s a fair point, I guess,” Damian admits. “But that really doesn’t sound like Caddy. Something else has to be going on.”
Janis sighs, trying to get herself back under control. She can’t even figure out why she’s so angry. “Can you talk to her?”
Damian looks meaningfully at his wounded foot, but eventually can’t resist the urge to help his platonic soulmate. “I can try, I guess. Maybe convince her to hear you out. But I can’t explain what happened or get her to forgive you. You have to do that.”
“Fine,” Janis huffs. “Just make sure she’s okay.”
“She will be, Jan, don’t worry. I’ll text her, see if she can come over tomorrow,” Damian comforts.
“Thanks, D.”
————-
Cady warily checks her phone when she wakes up the next morning, surprised when she sees her most recent text is from Damian.
Big Slice: Do you wanna come hang out with me after school today?? Pippa is not performing her caregiver duties well enough
She sighs. It’s almost definitely a trap, Damian is Janis’ best friend. That thought gives her pause. If she and Janis break up for good, will she lose her friendship with Damian? And since Regina is involved, will Gretchen and Karen stop being her friends, too? If she doesn’t go talk to Damian, she might go back to being totally alone for the third time in two years.
Little Slice: Yeah, I’ll come. I’ll be over around noon. My parents made me take a mental health day.
Big Slice: 📷
Little Slice: Wait, Janis won’t be there, will she?
Big Slice: Nope just us :) She went to school and has to babysit Juju after
Little Slice: Good.
Cady hauls herself out of bed with a great deal of effort, surprised to see it’s already eleven. She trudges down the stairs still in her pajamas for breakfast, staring out the window at absolutely nothing as she munches on her cereal.
Climbing back up the stairs feels like she’s climbing Kilimanjaro again, but she manages and resists the urge to flop back into bed. She doesn’t even have the energy to brush her hair, tying it up into a knot and spraying a little extra perfume on in place of a shower.
She grabs her phone after she tugs on a sweatshirt and some leggings, texting her dad to tell him she’s going to see Damian.
Cady perks up a little on her walk over, the sun giving her some energy. She has a spare key, so lets herself into Damian’s house and heads to his bedroom.
“Hey, Cads, how are you?” Damian asks when he turns to look at her. Janis clearly told him everything, but he’s pretending not to know.
“Fine,” Cady whispers. She can feel tears burning in her eyes and knows if she tries to speak she’ll start crying. Damian doesn’t need her problems on top of his own and Janis’.
“No, you’re not,” Damian says, reaching for her. “Come tell me your troubles.”
“You have your own problems, you don’t need to hear mine,” Cady mumbles.
“Bitch, please, I live for drama. I’ve been holed up here for almost a week, give me something to do,” Damian begs.
Cady gives in to the cuddling urge, sliding in beside him and resting her head on his shoulder. She heaves a sigh to try and keep the tears at bay, to no avail.
“Did Janis tell you?” She says, choking out a sob immediately after.
Damian sits up to hold her better. “Yes, but I want to hear your side of things too.”
Cady sobs harder. “She was-was talking to-to-to Regina in the art room, and R-Regina looked... excited about something and then Janis said something to h-her and Regina said that-that I wouldn’t find out about it.”
“So what do you think they meant by that?” Damian hums sadly, rubbing her back.
“Are they t-together? Is she cheat-cheating on me?” Cady whimpers.
“Let’s work through this together, hm? You remember how Janis acted when she had a crush on you, yeah?” Damian asks, continuing when she nods. “Disaster lesbian. Has she been acting like that around Regina?”
“No,” Cady sniffles. “But-but she could be meeting her when I don’t know about it, and hiding it when-when I’m around.”
“That’s another thing. Has Janis been lying to you about where she is, or acting suspicious?” Damian asks comfortingly.
Cady is about to say no before she remembers Friday. “Yeah,” she wails. “On-on Friday, she said Juliana was sick... b-but when I was at the ho-hospital with you she w-went to that coffee sh-shop with Regina.”
“Okay, so we have one suspicious thing, I’ll admit that is weird,” Damian says, scolding Janis internally. “Has she done anything else?”
Cady sniffles as she pauses to think. “She won’t l-listen to me any-anymore. She spent all day Monday and Tuesday t-tex-texting somebody and didn’t hear anything I said, and then-then she missed lunch. She did-did yesterday, t-too.”
“That’s some bullshit,” Damian calls. “She shouldn’t be doing that, I’ll talk to her about that. Okay, so a few things. Back to our checklist. Has Janis stopped saying things like ‘I love you’ or giving you kisses and cuddles and stuff?”
“No,” Cady sobs. She misses that, so much. And it’s only been a day. “She hasn’t.”
“Has Janis ever willingly wanted to spend a long amount of time with Regina? In the entire time you’ve known them? Even now that Reggie is a decent human?” Damian asks, looking at her meaningfully.
“No,” Cady admits. “Not unless one of us is around.”
“So does it make sense for them to be together?”
“No,” she sniffles. “But what if she’s with somebody else?”
“Who would she be with?” He asks.
Cady stops to think. The only other lesbian Janis knows well is Sonja Acquino, and she had gotten a girlfriend over winter break. Girls at school still tended to avoid Janis. Unless she met someone outside of school, there’s nobody she could possibly be with. Cady spends most of her time outside of school with Janis, and Janis would’ve told her if she had met a fellow gay.
Cady processes this realization and bursts into sobs anew. “God, I’m so stupid. Is Janis mad at me?”
“No, little slice, no. Janis has been acting weird, you had every right to be suspicious. Janis isn’t mad, either. She’s frustrated that you won’t talk to her, and she’s upset that you think she would do something like that. But I think once you both take a couple days to process and regroup, you should hear her out and make her hear you out, and then you’ll be fine. You two are so fucking grossly in love, you’re gonna make it through this.”
“Thank you,” Cady sniffs. “For listening. I would’ve understood if you took her side. You’re such a good friend.”
“Thanks, Cads,” Damian chuckles. “I try. But really, I’m friends with both of you; I’m talking to you because I want to. You both have shit happening that you’re not telling the other one about; once you clear the air there won’t even be sides to this. And besides, you’re Pippa’s favorite auntie. We can’t let you get away.”
Cady gives a watery chuckle at that, wiping the tears from under her eyes. “God, I’m such a mess.”
“Bitch, you’re fine. Until, like, five minutes ago you thought you had your second major heartbreak in two years,” Damian chastises gently. “We have ice cream in the freezer, can you go get it for us please?”
“Yes,” Cady says, kissing his cheek and grabbing a tissue from the box on his dresser. “I’ll be right back.”
She hears the clacking of small claws following her down the hallway to the kitchen, turning to see the sweet little squished face of Damian’s french bulldog.
“Hi Pip,” she says in her baby voice. “How are you, puppies?” Pippa wiggles excitedly when Cady picks her up, scrambling to lick the tear tracks from her cheeks. “Oh, thank you. Have you been taking good care of Damian?”
She bursts out laughing when Damian calls “No!” from his room, apparently having overheard their conversation.
“Well that can’t be right, your little face could heal any injury,” Cady says as she sets the dog down. She opens the freezer, grabbing two pints of ice cream and some spoons from the drawer before heading back to Damian.
“Pippa would be a terrible nurse,” Damian says when she comes back. “She keeps tripping me every time I try to go to the bathroom.”
Cady giggles. “She’s doing her best, be nice. Here’s your ice cream.”
“Thank youuuuu,” Damian sings. “Now, what should we watch to get your mind off of things?”
Cady crawls back into bed next to him, helping Pippa up as she stands on her hind legs to see what they’re doing. “Have you found any new bootlegs?”
“Ooh, yeah, actually. I’ve had a lot of time to look,” Damian answers, grabbing his laptop from his nightstand and a flash drive from the drawer. “I found a really good quality one of The Lion King, do you want to watch that?”
Cady’s eyes go wide as she opens her ice cream and she nods excitedly. “I’ve just been watching videos of this monkey who’s best friends with a duck on repeat. It kept making me cry harder because they’re so cute. Your plan sounds better.”
“You are the biggest dork I know, I love you dearly,” Damian responds, bringing up the right file. “Alright, time to see some puppet elephants and shit.”
Cady cuddles into his side as the video starts, with Pippa resting protectively at their feet.
“Is Janis okay?” she asks quietly after they finish.
“Yes, she’s okay. She’ll be better after you two talk, but she’s fine,” Damian responds comfortingly. “I found one of Frozen too, do you want to watch that?”
“Yeah. Thank you.”
-
She stays over through dinner, watching musicals and playing card games with Damian to pass the time. He makes her promise to shower and clean her inevitably messy room when she gets home, and turn her phone back on.
She keeps her promises and heads to bed, feeling much more secure in her relationships than she did a few hours prior.
————-
Janis stays home from school on Friday, having woken up even angrier than she had the day before.
Her therapist in middle school had told her to find a constructive way to deal with anger, since she had a tendency to cause either severe property damage or accidental damage to herself with her impulse decisions. Damian had had to explain her way out of trouble several times.
So, Janis had taken up yarn crafts. She would knit or cross-stitch or crochet, finding the repetitive motions soothing. Plus, a lot of the tools were quite sharp, making her feel like she had weapons.
She’s aggressively working on embroidering new designs on her jacket right around the time she’s supposed to be in school, when none other than Damian comes barreling into her room, as if he’d felt a disturbance in the force and had come to make sure she’s okay.
“Phone,” he says immediately when he sees her face and choice of activity, hobbling over on his crutches and holding out a hand for it.
“Why?” Janis grumbles but shuts it off and hands it over regardless.
“So you don’t do something on it that you’ll regret later. Internet is permanent. You wanna go throw rocks in the pond?” He asks, as if she’s a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.
“Can you do that? You’re not even supposed to be on crutches yet,” Janis asks, raising an eyebrow at him.
“You know damn well I would saw my legs off for you, I’m fine taking a little longer to heal. Plus, I got cleared by the doctor yesterday, so yes I am supposed to be on crutches yet,” he says childishly as he sticks his tongue out at her. “Are we going or not?”
“Yeah,” Janis mumbles, throwing off her covers to go get dressed.
-
Luckily, Damian’s unhurt foot is the one he needs to drive, so he can still do so safely. He lets Janis play her Angory Times playlist on the way there, which is just a lot of loud, shouty songs one right after another. Damian normally hates this kind of music, but Janis can see him actively trying to be supportive and let her continue.
Fortunately for him, the pond isn’t too far away, and Janis sees him breathe a sigh of relief when he shuts the car off and the noise stops. Damian grabs his crutches from the backseat and heads off, Janis stalking after him.
She bends to pick up rocks on her way, also grabbing the ones Damian points to. His are for skipping, small and flat and smooth. Hers are just for throwing, heavy ones that will make a good splash when they’re hurtled into the water.
Once their respective collections are amassed, they stand next to one another on the shore and go at it. Janis feels her anger chipping away as she chucks her rocks like baseballs into the murky water, delighting in the splashes echoing around them.
This is part of why she loves Damian so much. He knows exactly what to do to make her feel better in any possible scenario, and is perfectly content to do something as stupid as throw rocks into a creek with her in complete silence. On a sprained foot, no less.
“Nice,” she pants when Damian gets six skips in a row with one of his.
“Thanks,” Damian huffs back. “How many fish d’you think we’ve concussed so far?”
Janis laughs at that, hurtling her last rock as hard as she can. It hurts her shoulder a little, but lands almost halfway across the pond. “I don’t think fish can live in this water, honestly.”
“You’re probably right. Feeling better?” Damian asks, skipping his last stone. Four skips isn’t bad.
“Yeah. Can we get coffee?” Janis asks, trying to catch her breath.
“Yeah. Come on.”
-
Once Janis has her iced coffee and Damian has his latte, they find a bench to sit on and just watch the world go by for a while.
“So, are you ready to talk about why I had to take you to go chuck rocks into the pond?” Damian asks gently.
Janis sighs. “I just... I want to know what she’s thinking. I thought she trusted me, that we trusted each other. If she can’t believe that I wouldn’t do that to the point of completely cutting me off at the first slightly suspicious thing, then do we even... have a relationship?”
Damian doesn’t say anything, just takes her hand and squeezes it to encourage her to continue.
“Like... what else is going on with her? What is she not telling me? I just-I just don’t know what she needs. I’ve never felt so disconnected from her before. I’m-I’m scared.” Janis murmurs.
Damian hums sadly. “Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah,” Janis mumbles.
“I really don’t think this is happening because Cady doesn’t trust you. I think it’s happening because she doesn’t trust herself.” Damian responds. “She was a wreck when she came over yesterday, she had obviously been crying and hadn’t showered, things like that. Her hair wasn’t even brushed. When Aaron got back with Regina she got hot and did our whole revenge party thing.”
Janis takes her turn to listen, letting him continue.
“Cady grew up with lions and shit. If she thought you were cheating on her she should’ve been angry, not sad. Just based on who she is as a person. There’s something more happening.”
Janis thinks on what he’s said for a second. “Doesn’t trust herself? What do you mean? Doesn’t trust herself not to cheat on me?”
“No, no,” Damian says hastily. He pauses, trying to figure out how to word his point. “I don’t think Cady thinks she deserves you. She doesn’t trust herself to be what you want or need.”
“Am I that bad of a girlfriend? How could she think that? Why wouldn’t she tell me she was feeling like that?” Janis asks, trying to hold back the tears burning her eyes.
“Because you might have told her she was right. You and I know you would never do that, and I think she knows that too. But her anxiety about it overrode her rationality for a while. Cady has a lot going on. And no, you’re not a terrible girlfriend. You’re a pretty good one, actually. This is your first argument, it’s understandable,” Damian comforts.
“I just... I don’t want to lose her. And this is so stupid, why can’t I just-just stop being so angry?” Janis grits out.
“I think it’s fair for you to be angry, honestly. Cady didn’t mean for it to be, but this is kind of an attack on your character. She accused you of cheating,” Damian replies, wrapping and arm around her shoulders.
“I guess. Feels shitty,” Janis mumbles, leaning to rest her head on his shoulder.
“It’s meant to. But try to think of how she’s feeling, too,” Damian says as he rests his cheek on her head. “I had to explain to her why it didn’t make sense for you to cheat, and when it finally sank in the first thing she asked was if you were angry at her. For even thinking you would do that.”
That finally gets the tears from Janis, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes as she feels any lingering anger directed at Cady fade into nothing. “God, Caddy. What do I do, Damian?”
“For now, finish your coffee. She invited you to explain tomorrow, yeah?” Damian asks. Janis nods. “Okay, so tomorrow go over and... do something. I know you didn’t technically do anything wrong, but maybe apologize for... how she took it, I guess? You were acting kind of shady. Make sure she knows you would never cheat, tell her she can trust you, stuff like that. Just take everything one step at a time.”
“Okay,” Janis sniffles. “Is-was she okay?”
“Not at first, I’ll be honest,” Damian replies. “She said she had been watching videos of this monkey and duck who are best friends to try to cheer herself up, and I had to watch two bootlegs with her to even see her smile. But once we had a chat and stuff she seemed a lot more secure. Confident. She’ll probably apologize before you even get a chance.”
Janis gives a watery chuckle at the mention of the inter-species friendship videos. “That’s my girl. Thanks for checking on her.”
“Caddy said the same things. She wanted to know if you were okay, said thanks for even thinking about her.”
“I miss her so much,” Janis sniffs.
Damian takes her hand again. “And that’s how I know this is going to work out. You’re both upset with each other, and yet all both of you can think about is making up so you can be together again.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so. Y’all are the most disgustingly loving couple I know, you both look at the other like they hung the stars. You two are going to be fine.”
“Okay. I love you,” Janis responds, wiping her tears with her sleeve.
“I love you too. You wanna go play with the birds at the pet store?” Damian asks, hauling himself back onto his crutches.
“You know me too well,” Janis replies with a small grin, following him back to his car.
————-
On Saturday, Cady tells Janis she can come over to finally have a talk. Janis decides to come in through the window for dramatic effect, nearly falling out of the tree she has to climb to do so until Cady hauls her in safely.
“What the hell, Janis? It’s pouring with rain, why didn’t you come in through the door? You could’ve broken your neck,” Cady insists like a worried mother, leaving to fetch her a towel. It’s strange, not immediately pulling her in for a kiss or hug. She doesn’t like it.
“I didn’t, though, and that’s the key,” Janis says, rubbing the towel over her hair quickly. Once that’s done she gestures for Cady to sit on her bed, sitting across from her criss-cross applesauce. She takes a breath to prepare herself, but Cady speaks before she can.
“Janis, I’m so sorry. I don’t-I don’t know what I was thinking, I should’ve known you’d never do that, especially with Regina. I hadn’t slept in two days, I was so irrational,” she bursts out rapidly.
“Hey, Caddy, shh. I’m supposed to be apologizing to you. I understand how that whole thing with Regina might have looked to you, so I’m sorry for that, first of all,” Janis says. “I’m sorry I ever made you think I would do that to you. I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you’re not enough for me. I love you. I need you to know I would never even think about cheating. It’s important we trust each other with stuff like that, from now on.”
Cady nods. “I do, I know you would never do that. I trust you, it’s just... Jesus, I don’t even know,” She sighs, burying her face in her hands.
“Cads, hey. Can I touch you?” Janis asks gently, taking her hands when Cady gives a nod and squeezing them. She hates this, it feels like they’re back at square one of their relationship. Maybe they are. “What’s going on?”
“I know Regina has worked on herself, a lot, and I hate feeling like this. But she took Aaron away right when she found out I liked him. What would’ve stopped her from doing it with you?”
“Me,” Janis insists. “I would have stopped it.”
“But what if she’s better for you?!” Cady asks pleadingly. “Regina could take care of you. She’s pretty, and nice now. She’s rich, and smart, and she can do art and stuff too. What- what do I have? I’m just some homeschooled weirdo from Kenya who doesn’t understand people and won’t shut up about math. I-I’m autistic, that’s gonna be hard to deal with sometimes, and in terms of looks I’m not anything special. I want you to have someone who makes you happy. You deserve someone like her. Someone.... someone better.”
“I don’t give a hot, crispy, Kentucky fried fuck what you think I deserve. I know what I want, and I want you. I want my Caddy, my Peanut, my Butterfly,” Janis says passionately, cupping her cheeks and looking into her eyes. “I want your pretty blue eyes and your red hair that smells like cherries and your freckles I can find constellations in. I want my math nerd who does calculus for fun and who can’t do art to save her life but tries anyway because she knows it’ll make me smile. I want my animal lover who makes friends with the squirrels in the woods and didn’t notice a deer followed her on her walk to my house, my girl who can tell me facts I never needed to know about lions and fun stories about Africa. You make me happy. I want you, baby. Nobody else.”
Cady throws herself at Janis, knocking her backwards onto the bed and locking their lips together. Janis kisses her back just as hard, gripping her waist so hard Cady can feel bruises forming. She doesn’t care. She’s flooded with relief at the familiar waxy texture of Janis’ lipstick, the comforting smell of vanilla from her soft skin and the safe feeling of being held in her arms. She pulls back for a split second to breathe before diving back in, gasping as Janis nips her lip and twines their tongues together.
When they finally pull back, Janis just cups Cady’s face to look at her, lips swollen and two-toned hair wild around her. “I’m so sorry,” Cady says, pulling back to sit again and burying herself in Janis’ shoulder when she follows. “I hated fighting, I love you, I’m sorry.”
“The only thing you have to be sorry for is not telling me you were feeling that way. This is only gonna work if we both feel okay about ourselves, and tell each other when we don’t. I’m sorry for not talking with you about this kind of thing sooner. This whole relationship needs to be based on trust and talking to each other, okay?”
Cady nods. “Okay. We both take care of each other?”
“Exactly, my girl,” Janis confirms, grinning as Cady kisses her cheeks. “But ourselves, too.”
“Have you ever felt like this? With me?” Cady asks gently.
“Of course. I wonder every day what I did to deserve you. I was so jealous the whole time you were with Aaron, and I thought you were way out of my league for a long time,” Janis responds, chuckling when Cady pulls back to look at her incredulously. “You’re so beautiful, and so smart. You were queen of the school for a good while, I thought you would at least want someone as smart as you, if not as nice and pretty. When we first got together I spent a lot of time wondering why you didn’t pick Kevin or even Regina over me.”
“Then I’m sorry too. You’re what I want, I love you. I love the way you always smell like paint, I love the one little chunk of hair that always slips into your face,” Cady says, brushing it behind Janis’ ear. “I love the way you’re so tough and strong and yet you cry over the snake food at the pet store and try to steal the dwarf hamsters every time we go. I love how you never let my feet touch the ground when we’re together, and how you seem so cold but give the warmest hugs and softest kisses. I love how you’re the only person who regularly asks for stories about Kenya and never tells me to be quiet, and how you let me ramble about math and at least pretend to be interested even though you don’t understand what I’m on about. I love that you let me call you stupid little nicknames even though it ‘goes against your image’. I love that you’re so passionate about everything, that you care so much about what’s important to you and aren’t afraid to let people know it. I. Love. You. So much. Promise me you’ll tell me if you feel that way again.”
“I promise, baby. I love you too,” Janis responds with tears in her eyes. Cady clings to her tightly, happy they seem to be okay again. They sit like that for a short while, content to be holding each other again.
“Janis?” Cady asks quietly after a moment.
“Yes, Princess?” Janis responds, opening her eyes again.
“What have you been talking with Regina about?”
Janis chuckles, kissing her cheek. “I’ve been trying to come up with something to surprise you with, to celebrate you being valedictorian. Reggie likes party planning and stuff, I thought she might have some ideas.”
“Really?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Oh my god, I’m so stupid,” Cady chuckles. Janis flicks her gently.
“Hey, no you’re not. You’re the valedictorian, for fucks sake. And I did not go about any of this correctly.”
“I didn’t either, I don’t blame you. But you don’t have to get me anything, Jayjay,” Cady mumbles sheepishly as she nuzzles back into Janis.
“I know I don’t have to, I want to,” Janis replies. “You’ve worked so hard, you deserve something.”
“What have you guys come up with?” Cady asks.
“Regina wants to throw you some kind of party, but that’s all we’ve gotten so far. I’m trying to talk her out of some sort of rager,” Janis answers.
“Oh, that sounds fun. But yeah, I don’t want anything big or crazy,” Cady says.
“What do you want? Since it’s not a surprise anymore. Might as well get your input,” Janis says in response.
Cady thinks for a while. “I dunno. Something with food. Maybe outside if it’s a nice day. I trust your judgement.”
“A dangerous choice,” Janis chuckles.
“I know,” Cady giggles. “But really. As long as it’s not anything crazy or expensive I don’t mind what you choose to do.”
“Okay. I can work with that. I love you,” Janis says.
“I love you too. I missed you,” Cady says.
“I missed you too, baby,” Janis responds. “Was torture without you.”
“We really have to do something for Damian, too,” Cady hums thoughtfully. “I would’ve totally spiraled without him.”
“God, yeah, me too,” Janis says. “You think of something to get him, we’ll give it to him on the same day we do your little bash.”
“Okay,” Cady giggles. She goes quiet for a long moment before piping up again. “Janis?”
“Hmm?”
“Can you help me with my English project?”
“Yes,” Janis laughs. “Of course.”
“Thank god.”
————-
“Hey, Cady, can we talk?” Regina stops her in the hallway on her way to study hall.
“Oh god, Regina! Sorry, you scared me. Uh, yeah, are you okay with talking in the bathroom?”
Regina grimaces, but nods. Cady follows her in.
“Regina, I’m sorry, I should never have accused you of trying to steal Janis,” Cady apologizes. “You’ve worked so much on being nicer, and it really shows, I’m sorry I ever thought you would still do something like that.”
“Whoa, Cady,” Regina says. “Um, it’s... fine. I wasn’t expecting you to apologize. I wanted to apologize, I should have been more careful with how Janis and I were meeting and stuff. I don’t know if she’s talked to you yet, but she would never cheat on you, especially with me. I think she still hates me. Please forgive Janis, none of this was her fault.”
“Gina, hey,” Cady comforts. “Janis and I talked this weekend, we’re back together. Everything is okay. We’ve all learned some very valuable lessons. I forgive you.”
“Oh thank fuck,” Regina sighs. “The universe has felt out of balance since you broke up. I was wondering what you guys were going to do to me that could be worse than the Kälteen bars.”
“I’m still sorry about those,” Cady mumbles sheepishly. “Let’s just, like... talk about stuff, in the future? Stop having to have moments like this?”
“Agreed,” Regina says. “You want to hug it out, don’t you?” Cady nods. “Fine. Thirty seconds.”
“I’ll take it,” Cady says happily. “I’ll make a hugger out of you yet.”
————-
“Jayjay!” Cady calls, leaping on Janis from behind.
“Jesus fuck! Caddy! Don’t do that,” Janis yelps as she turns around.
“Hi,” Cady says, grinning up at her. “I sowwy.”
Janis glares at her. “You’re forgiven. For a kiss.”
Cady happily obliges, reaching her arms around Janis’ neck as she leans up to kiss her sweetly. “Better?”
“For now,” Janis says, pecking her gently again. “Do you want to work on your project? I’ve been freed from planning your little shindig for the day, Regina wanted to go see Damian.”
“Aww, that’s nice of her. I definitely need your help, it’s due on Friday and I only have a couple slides,” Cady says.
“Tits. You ready to go?”
“Yeah,” Cady says, lacing their fingers together as Janis leads her to her truck.
-
Janis flops onto Cady’s bed when they arrive, reaching for her laptop to see what Cady has so far. She bursts out laughing when she sees the only slide Cady’s made.
“What’s so funny?” Cady asks. She’d been pretty sleep deprived by the time she actually got around to putting it together, but thought she had done a pretty good job.
“Did you proofread this at all?” Janis says in between fits of laughter.
“I hadn’t slept in two days at the time, but yes,” Cady replies, almost offended.
“Baby, this just says ‘I’m so tired. Please god let me sleep.’ over and over with a bunch of typos,” Janis says breathlessly, wiping tears of laughter from under her eyes.
“Oh. Oops,” Cady replies. Apparently she’s made less progress than she had thought.
“Next time, pace yourself. You need to sleep, Butterfly,” Janis says, reaching for her. Cady comes to sit on her lap.
“So, what career do you want to do this project on? It’s supposed to be what you want to do when you grow up, right?” Janis asks, holding her close.
“Yeah,” Cady mumbles. “But... I don’t know what I want to do.”
“Oh, baby, that’s okay. I don’t know either,” Janis comforts. “Do you have any ideas of jobs you want?”
“My parents want me to go into zoology, like them,” Cady replies. “And I’ve been... wondering if I should go into medicine. Like Rhys wanted to. Since he couldn’t himself.”
“But what do you want to do?” Janis asks. “I think it’s great that you’re considering medicine for your brother, but if it’s not what you really want then you shouldn’t force yourself into it.”
“I kind of want to teach math,” Cady mumbles shyly. “Like, to college or high school kids. Maybe get my PhD in math and stuff. I think math is fun, I want to help other people have fun with it too.”
“You would be such a good teacher, baby,” Janis comforts, kissing her cheek. “You should absolutely do that if it’s what you want. You’ll be successful enough to make your parents happy, and be doing something you’re interested in. That’s a great fit for you.”
Cady looks more than a little relieved at that, but realizes something. “I’d feel guilty though. I promised I’d become a doctor for Rhys when he died. I just... don’t really want to anymore. I don’t think I’d be very good at it.”
“Butterfly, Rhys would want you to be happy with whatever you choose to do. You already honor him every day just by existing. You’re so smart, and kind, and beautiful. I know you’re already making him proud, you don’t owe him anything else,” Janis reminds her. She never met Rhys, but from everything she’s heard about him she just made a true statement.
“Thank you, Jayjay. I guess if I did get my PhD I’d technically be a doctor,” Cady jokes. “I’ll decide later, I have a couple years.”
“That you do. Unfortunately, becoming a math teacher doesn’t make for a very interesting project, though, so maybe pick a fake career and we’ll look into that,” Janis says.
“I did actually want to be a zoologist when I was really little, we could do that,” Cady says.
“Sounds like a plan,” Janis replies as she kisses her cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Cady responds. “Can we just make out instead?”
“Tempting,” Janis says. “You get one minute of kissing for every half hour.”
“Fine.”
————-
“Hey, Cady, can you go to the mall with us after school today?” Gretchen asks, flanked by Karen.
“Yeah,” Cady responds. “Is this related at all to-“
“No!” Karen insists before she can finish.
“Karen, sweetie, she knows she’s having some kind of party. She just doesn’t know what’s happening specifically,” Gretchen says quietly.
“Oh yeah,” Karen says. “Then yes. They’re going shopping for supplies today and told us to distract you. Confetti emoji.”
“Ah,” Cady giggles. “Yeah, I can go. I’ll meet you guys by the main doors after school?”
“Caucasian thumbs up!” Karen responds, pulling Gretchen away.
“Yeah, we’ll be there!”
-
“Okay, Sarkisian, what’s this wonderful idea you’ve had?” Regina asks.
“A picnic!” Janis says excitedly. “She wants something with food and something outside. We’ll have a picnic in the park.”
“That... actually doesn’t sound terrible,” Regina says. “So what do we need?”
“A big-ass blanket,” Janis responds as they enter a party store. “And food. And Caddy loves balloons, but we should get those on the day.”
“Who’s gonna make the food, Jan?” Regina asks.
“Jules can, she loves to cook. She’s been wanting to practice stuff anyway,” Janis responds, looking at their selections of plates.
“How is she?” Regina asks quietly. She hasn’t seen Juliana since she and Janis were twelve.
“She’s good,” Janis answers. “Tall as shit, little evil genius. She’s super smart and sarcastic and stuff. She’s big into writing now, too. How’s Kylie been?”
“I... She... I’m...” Regina stutters. “She’s a good kid, but she’s turning into a little version of me. I’m trying to stop her before she gets to where I was.”
Janis hums sadly. “Well, at least you’re a better role model for her now. And you’re both getting the help you need. Kylie was the sweetest little thing last time I saw her, I don’t think she can get to your level.”
“I hope not,” Regina mumbles. “Cady likes yellow, right? We could do white and yellow, that would be cute.”
Janis gets the sense they’re done talking about their families for a reason, now. “Yeah, yellow is her favorite. We could go buy some white sheets from somewhere for cheap and then do yellow plates and shit.”
“Done. I’m buying,” Regina says, grabbing several packs of plates and napkins.
“No! She’s my girlfriend,” Janis protests. “I’m paying.”
“Jan, just let me have this.”
“Fine. ‘S your money,” Janis grumbles.
“Thank you.”
“Hmph.”
-
Cady, unfortunately, has study hall as her last class of the day in the English wing, so she has to rush to meet Gretchen and Karen by the entrance to the school.
She’s so excited to be spending time with them that she almost runs past them, managing to slow down just before she barrels into Gretchen.
“Hi, sorry,” she says breathlessly. “Who’s driving?”
“I will,” Gretchen offers. Riding with other drivers tends to make her anxious.
“I call shotgun!” Karen calls, already heading to the car. That leaves Cady in the back, which she doesn’t mind.
They put their backpacks in the trunk and hop in, Karen dancing along in her seat to the radio. Cady texts Damian on the ride there, since he had an appointment to check on his foot today. He’d been back in school starting that week, but was still stuck on crutches.
Little Slice: How was the doctor????
Big Slice: Good! I don’t have to use crutches anymore, I just have to wear a boot and go easy on it
Big Slice: No dancing for a while :(
Little Slice: Aw :((( You’ll be back to dancing soon though!!
Little Slice: And yay no more crutches!!!!!!!!!
Big Slice: Yeah now Pippa can’t trip me lmao
Big Slice: Wait aren’t you at the mall??
Little Slice: Yeah, we just got here. I just wanted to check on you 📷
Big Slice: Aw, thanks Cads
Big Slice: Go have fun I’m all good
Little Slice: Okay. Love you 🥰
Big Slice: Love you too, go eat pretzels 🥨
Little Slice: 📷🥨
She chuckles and shuts her phone off, following after her friends into the mall. “Are you guys wanting anything in particular or are we just here for fun?”
“Both!” Karen cheers. “We should totally buy you an outfit for your party. But I also want frozen yogurt.”
“Oh, I didn’t bring any money,” Cady remembers. “But you guys should have fun, I’ll just hang around.”
“No, it’s our treat. We haven’t paid anything for your party,” Gretchen says.
“You guys don’t have to do that,” Cady mumbles. She’s slightly embarrassed by all the attention she’s been getting lately.
“Money bag emoji, let us buy you stuff, Cady. We’re both pretty rich,” Karen says.
“Yeah, come on. Frozen yogurt and one outfit from, like, Forever 21 or something isn’t that expensive anyway, Cades,” Gretchen adds.
“Okay, fine,” Cady begrudgingly agrees. “Let’s do yogurt first, I’m hungry.”
Karen takes both their hands and hauls them towards her favorite shop.
Once they’re sufficiently full of yogurt and toppings, they head to find an outfit for Cady. Gretchen wanders off for a second, leaving Karen and Cady to browse some racks. She comes back with a beautiful white sundress, patterned with yellow flowers.
She shyly approaches Cady, offering the dress. “What do you think of this?”
“Oh, Gretch, this is so pretty! Let me go try it on, it’s beautiful,” Cady squeals, rushing towards the changing rooms. It’s a soft cotton, with a pretty tight bodice and a skirt that flares at her waist, and ends just above her knees. Gretchen seems to have remembered her sizes from their plastic days, the dress fits perfectly.
She opens the curtain to go show her friends, both of them clapping happily and squealing as she spins around. It’s different than it was when they went shopping last year. She can tell their reactions are genuine, rather than just trying to appease her.
“What do you think?” Gretchen asks shyly.
“Gretch, it’s perfect. It’s so soft,” Cady says, looking at herself in the mirror. It has short sleeves, so she might get a little chilly, but she can steal a jacket from Janis. “And, I can wear it to graduation too. It’s beautiful.”
“Oh, good,” Gretchen breathes. She’s working on not needing quite so much external validation, but it’s a slow process.
“You look hot,” Karen adds, making Cady laugh.
“Thanks,” She says, kicking up a heel. “Do you guys want to come over? Watch a movie or something?”
“Totally, that would be fetch,” Gretchen says.
“I’m so glad you still say fetch,” Cady giggles. “Let’s go!”
—————-
A few days later, Janis is typing the final few slides of Cady’s project as her girlfriend lays in her lap and dictates.
“And... you’re done,” Janis says as she enters the last few words. “Now we just need to proofread it and cite your sources.”
“Mmh,” Cady whines. “I hate citing stuff.”
“I hate it too,” Janis says, leaning down to kiss her gently. Cady rests a hand on the back of her head, keeping her close and kissing her back. Janis gives in for a second, before she resists and pulls back. “Stop trying to seduce me into letting you slack off, Peanut.”
“Fine,” Cady huffs as she sits up, still in Janis’ lap as she enters all her sources. “There.”
Janis turns her around to face her. “Good job, baby.”
“Thank you for helping me,” Cady says contently as she nuzzles into her. “I love you.”
“I love you too. So much,” Janis hums. “Have you thought of anything to get for Damian, by the way?”
“A couple things,” Cady says. “He mentioned something when you guys were telling me about Phillip last year, um... an... uh-“
“Edible arrangement?” Janis asks with a chuckle, remembering the story.
“Yeah! What are those?��� Cady asks.
“They’re like flower bouquets but they’re made of fruit, so you can eat them,” Janis replies.
“Oh. We could make one of those? Does he like them?”
“That would be cute,” Janis says. “He likes fruit a lot, I don’t see why he wouldn’t like one. They can’t be too hard to make.”
“Don’t say that, you’ll jinx us,” Cady jokes. “We should decorate a little vase to put it in, too.”
“Sounds like a plan, Butterfly,” Janis says. “Are you excited for Sunday?” She and Regina had finally gathered everything they would need, and decided to have the picnic on Sunday so Juliana would have Saturday to prep the food, with the assistance of Regina and their moms.
“Yes! I can’t wait to see what you guys came up with,” Cady says happily. “I know it’ll be perfect.”
“Good,” Janis says as she leans in to kiss her. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” Cady teases.
“No way. I love you most.”
“Well... I love you... moster.” Cady stumbles, making them both laugh.
“Okay, fine, you win for today,” Janis chuckles.
“Ha! I win,” Cady says. “My prize is cuddles.”
“I can live with that.”
——————-
Sunday finally rolls around, and Janis is shaking with excitement. She’d spent the day before with Cady, putting together Damian’s thank you gift while Regina and Juliana spent the day cooking at her house.
She and Cady had both wound up absolutely covered in paint from trying to decorate the vase they had picked, and painted a Broadway stage on. Once they had scrubbed most of it off, they decided to start prepping the fruit, neither of them quite understanding how to turn a cantaloupe into a flower. Eventually they got the hang of it, putting together a rather lovely arrangement. Damian would like it, at least.
Cady had mischievously decided to chuck a melon ball at Janis once they had finished putting everything together, so Janis had thrown a grape back. Eventually every piece of the extra fruit they had had been thrown at someone, and they had a delicious mess to clean up.
Her jacket had also gone missing, which was slightly concerning. She had planned on wearing it to the picnic as well, but is wearing a backup since it never turned up.
“Janny. Breathe,” Juliana demands. as Janis is frantically running around trying to make sure everything is in place. They’d bought cheap white sheets and stitched them together to make a massive blanket, which is spread over the soft grass, and bought yellow balloons which are weighing the blanket down at the corners.
Juliana had truly gone all out, prepping almost all of Cady’s favorite foods. All sorts of sandwiches, chocolate covered strawberries, a cheese board, pink lemonade, and even an adorable froggy cake.
“Okay,” Janis says as she teases a deep breath. “You really did a great job, kid, this stuff looks great.”
Julie beams up at her as Janis pulls her into a hug. “Thanks, Janny.”
“Yeah, Jan, chill. Everything’s fine, just wait for your girl,” Regina says, adjusting a bunch of balloons.
“Okay.”
She doesn’t have to wait long, as Damian shows up about ten minutes later with her blindfolded girlfriend in tow. So that’s where her jacket had gone.
He leads Cady to a good place, where she can see the whole spread, before he unties her blindfold.
Cady gasps excitedly, taking everything in for a split second before she runs to jump into Janis’ arms. Janis spins her around as Cady giggles happily, grinning down at her. She pulls Janis down into a kiss as soon as she’s on her feet again, wrapping her arms around her neck and pressing the lips together sweetly.
“Janis, this is beautiful, I love it,” she says as soon as they break apart. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, baby,” Janis says quietly, leaning down to kiss her again. They only remember they’re not alone when everyone starts making gagging noises, Juliana somehow already on Damian’s back. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Cady whispers, giving her one more peck before going to thank Regina and Julie. Regina begrudgingly accepts a hug, and Julie grins happily as Cady wraps her in a tight hug and kisses her cheek. Once that’s been handled she looks around a little more, smiling widely. “Should we give Damian his thing now?”
“Sure,” Janis says, heading to grab it as Damian does a lazy waltz with her sister. He only has to wear the boot for a few more weeks, luckily. “Dame!”
“What? Aww!” He squeals when they hold out his homemade fruit bouquet. “This is so cute.”
“It’s a thank you present, for telling us we were both being idiots but in a nice way,” Janis replies. “Neither of us want to think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there to talk us down.”
“Aww. I should become a marriage counselor, if I get this kind of stuff every time,” Damian says, eating one of the melon flowers. He gasps with exaggerated drama as they both lean in to smooch one of his cheeks at the same time, pressing a hand over his heart.
“Thanks, Damian,” Cady giggles.
“You’re welcome. When do we get to eat?” Damian asks, cradling his bouquet.
“Once everyone else shows up,” Regina answers, coming over to join their conversation. “Speak of the devil.”
Cady peeks around Damian to see who else has arrived, going to greet the Mathletes, along with Karen and Gretchen with a hug.
She spends the picnic chatting with everyone, but also spends a lot of it stuck close to Janis. She’s either hugging her, in her lap, or holding her hand throughout the whole thing. It’s cute.
Cady and Janis stay behind after everyone else goes home to clean up, deciding to have a moment to themselves first. The sun went down a while ago, so they cuddle up on the blanket and look at the stars.
“I love you,” Cady says quietly after a while, rolling on top of Janis.
“I love you too,” Janis responds as she pulls her down into a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you,” Cady whispers, ghosting the words over Janis’ lips. “Today was perfect.”
“I’m glad,” Janis says. “Now kiss me.”
Cady obliges, cupping her face to kiss her as Janis rests her hands on her waist. Janis flicks her tongue at the seam of her lips, moaning quietly when Cady lets her in and their tongues meet.
They both know they should get to work soon, but for now their responsibilities are allowed to fade into the background. The picnic was wonderful, but not quite worth almost losing one another.
They lose the world in each other, tasting the universe on each other’s lips as the stars twinkle just for them above their heads.
All is well.
-
hope you enjoyed! this was a prompt fill for Hayeena and Aubrey_Plaza_Stole_HappiestSeason on ao3.
also, translation for the Swahili: ndege wangu mdogo wa wimbo: my little songbird. I have no idea if its accurate, I don't speak Swahili.
requests are still open! please leave them either here, on my ao3 or on my wattpad. all are the same handle, maybeimamuppet.
lots of love,
ezzy
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akaashisupremacy · 4 years ago
Text
Making Happenstance
Summary: Bokuto is not the best at dealing with rough patches, but his charm sometimes gets the better of you.  Are you willing to give him another chance?
Notes:  Bokuto x reader
genre: angst, drama, fluff,  (wc: 1.1k)
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Sometimes it doesn’t feel like things have truly ended between you and Bokuto. 
“We can’t keep doing this…” you murmured.
You had met Bokuto while you were on a beach vacation and hit things off right away. You were attracted to his zest for life and adventure and he to your passion for design and crafts.
When both of you returned to Japan, reality quickly set it. You lived in Tokyo and he was based off Osaka. You had tried to make time for each other, but you just both seemed so busy. Outwardly, you both brushed off the relationship as a vacation dalliance.
You were hurt of course, because you thought he would make more off an effort, but he was too busy. Neither of you were good with long distance too. The relationship seemed doomed from the start.
“This isn’t going to work!” you frowned.
He ignored you and slipped in his hands under your shirt. He wrapped his strong arms around your stomach in silent protest. You tried to wiggle your way out, almost dragging the both of you off the bed, as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Instead of pulling away and replying, Bokuto planted a kiss on your cheek.
“So you’re just not gonna talk about it?” you shot a look at him and crossed your arms.
He finally looked up from your neck and said, “Yup, ignoring all of it,” before re-burying himself.
“If we can’t fix what broke us up last time, it’s bound to happen again.”
You had recently moved to Kyoto which meant that you two lived closer. Still, you still lived at least an hour away from him. One hour of travel time was much for both of you.
Earlier that evening, you ran into him from your way home from some business in Osaka. He asked to catch up with you then walked you home and ended up staying till a god-forsaken hour there for the night. This had been happening a lot lately.
“I want just a bit more time with you,” he mumbled, “Don’t you?”
You look left and right. “I guess you could stay the night.” you begrudgingly sighed, turning over to face him. His face broke into the widest smile.
“Really?!” he gasped in pleasant surprise, clasping his hands with yours. Even though this was not the first time you let him stay over, he retained his unbridled enthusiasm.
“Don’t make me take it back,” you jammed your finger into his chest.
“I-“
“Don’t say it!” you covered his mouth with your hand. He takes your palm away from his face and kisses it.
“Love you,” he grins unapologetically, his eyes wide like a puppy.
His irresistible charm made you want to melt with giddiness. Damn it! It was so easy to be attracted to him. You couldn’t believe that you had given in to him again! When things end a second time, you don’t know whether you will be more hurt or relieved but for tonight, you guess things aren’t completely over as you thought it would be.
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The next time you saw Bokuto, he was your only guest at a small art show.
“Why are you here?” you asked in astonishment. He was the last person on your contacts that would come to an art show in his own volition.
“You used to complain that I don’t go to your shows” he shrugged his shoulders casually. He put his hands in his pockets and squinted closely at your painting.
You gently nudged him and pointed to the line at the floor.
“Don’t stand too close to the painting,” you said, “Stay behind the line.”
“It’s just a couple of paintings. I’m not even headlining or anything.” you added, shaking your head.
In truth you were downplaying how significant this exhibit was to you. It was the first time your works as an artist were featured at a group show and it was outside of your design firm too!
“But you said it’s important to you…” he held up his phone, showing you your post on your upcoming exhibit. You are stunned into silence that he was even keeping track.
“It is…but none of this is really your business. You’re just a hook-up. You shouldn’t be here.” you shook your head and frowned. He looked a little hurt.
“I wasn’t always a just hook-up…” he said, putting his hands on his hips ”…I want my old status back. I hope filing for my old status is easier than filing for my taxes. That stuff is just confusing.”
You rolled your eyes. Leave it to Bokuto to be cheeky after you tried to push him away.
“Show me around?” he asked, gesturing towards the rest of the exhibit.
You later find out he has a game tomorrow and that he was supposed to have an early night to rest up, yet there he was standing in an obscure show just because he couldn’t keep himself away from you.
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Yesterday, he showed up at your exhibit. Today, you show up to his game. You see him looking for you among the crowd at the bleachers before the whistle blows. Just when the game begins, his eyes find you and he nods in acknowledgement.
Bokuto frantically looks for you after their win. He eventually catches you near the exit of the court the moment before you decide to leave the building, looking a little out of breath but as sunny as ever.
“I thought you said you weren’t coming.” he smiles from ear to ear.
“You sounded so sad that I couldn’t make it so I came,” you reply honestly.
Bokuto looks disarmed. His eyes round out and his mouth relaxes. He is moved beyond words. Amidst the buzz of the arena, silence falls between the two of you.
“I knew you would come.” he says quietly, finally speaking up.
“We’ve been through this before. We’re busy people. I won’t always make it to your game. You know that right?” you point out, “Me coming here is more of the exception than the rule.”
“But we’re also not as unavailable as we make it out to be. I’m apparently not busy enough to come to your show, and you made time to come here. Maybe we’re not too busy, maybe we just hadn’t learned how to make time.” he reasons.
“Bokuto, I’m going to be so devastated if things don’t work out a second time.”
He has a rare moment of hesitation, but he nods his head. His hands reach out to you. You clasp onto his hands and you stop questioning if it was over.
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gwenbrightly · 3 years ago
Text
Redwall Falls Chapter 2
“He’s looking at me...” Brome heard his sister whisper to herself. She was not so inconspicuously watching Martin, one of the Mystery Shack’s teenaged employees, while she cleaned bobbleheads made in the image of their Great Aunt (or Graunt) Polly. The siblings had been put to work helping out around the tourist trap as soon as they’d had some time to settle in.
“Why don’t you just, I don’t know, talk to him?” he suggested with an eye roll. Rose stared at him.
“After what happened last time?” she cringed. Yesterday, when they’d met him (and the handy-squirrel known as Feldoh), the mouse had introduced himself before saying something about a “rosty nose”, which had taken several minutes to decipher. Brome still wasn’t sure what that was about, but it had definitely been awkward.
“Well, he’s proven that he can speak coherently,” Brome observed, nodding his head at the customer Martin was currently ringing up, “so maybe this time you guys can make it through an entire conversation without crashing.”
“I... Don’t be so pushy, Brome. These things take time. And besides-” Rose’s protests were cut off by Graunt Polly’s appearance from the back room.
“All right, all right, look alive, everybeast. I need someone to go hang up these signs in the spooky part of the forest,” the mole announced, displaying several signs that had advertisements with question marks and directions to the Mystery Shack on them. Rose, Brome, Feldoh, and Martin all glanced at each other.
“Not it,” Rose said quickly.
“Not it,” Brome followed suit.
“Also not it. You needed me to switch out the lightbulbs upstairs, remember?” It was Feldoh, this time. Graunt Polly looked annoyed.
“Martin, go hang these signs.” She ordered. “Oh, I would, but it’s so far. And I just realized I never had my lunch break so...”
“I’d fire all of you if I could,” Polly complained, frowning at Martin’s lame excuse. Her statement didn’t seem to have the desired effect, for she looked rather disappointed when no one took the hint and volunteered as tribute.
“Fine, then. Guess we’re gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way,” she said, “let’s make it.. Eanie, meanie, minie… you,” she pointed a paw at Brome. He groaned in dismay.
“What? No. Graunt Polly, there’s something off about these woods… they’re creepy and I always feel like I’m being watched.”
“Noonvale doesn’t have much in the way of real forests, Brome. It’s gonna take some time for you to adjust to, well, the great outdoors,” Polly told him, giving his headfur a ruffle. He looked to Rose for backup, but she didn’t offer anything.
“I’m telling you – there’s something weird going on in this town. Homesickness can’t explain why the mosquito bites on my arm spell out ‘beware’.” Brome pointed out, rolling up his sleeve to show the others. Feldoh made a gagging noise. Rose raised an eyebrow and said,
“It looks more like ‘bewarb’ to me, and that’s really only if you squint.”
“Look, kid, that whole ‘monsters in the woods’ thing is just a local legend drummed up to attract more tourists,” Polly tried to assure him, but Brome wasn’t convinced. He had only been in Gravity falls for a day and he’d already seen bizarre glowing lights, heard strange noises, and been accosted by possibly radioactive mosquitos.
“But...” he protested as Graunt Polly plopped the signs into his reluctantly waiting arms.
“Stop being so paranoid and try to have some fun with this, eh, Brome?”
_______________
“No one believes anything I say,” Brome muttered to himself as he nailed a sign to a tree. It felt like he had been out in the forest for hours. All by himself. With no one to talk (complain) to. Was it even legal to send children out into the forest to perform manual labor without supervision? He’d have to check the local child labor laws once he got access to wifi – yet another thing the Mystery Shack seemed to be lacking in.
“Ugh!” he cried. “Stupid Mystery Shack! Stupid signs!”
Kathunk! Brome kicked the next tree he came to and immediately recoiled. He yelped in pain, then cocked his head. Trees didn’t make weird echoey noises… did they?
“Weird…” he commented, dropping the remaining sign on the ground so he could investigate further. Rapping gently on the tree – he didn’t want to hurt himself – Brome listened to the oddly metallic sound the tree made on impact. Something was definitely off about it. He took the sleeve of his sweatshirt and rubbed away at the trunk. Textured brown paint and a healthy coating of dirt and grime gave way to old metal. Ahah! The entire tree was fake. In full detective mode, now, Brome examined the tree until he spotted a small handle.
With slight apprehension, for there was always a chance his actions would activate an army of laser equipped robots, he grasped the lever with both paws and yanked it down. Nothing happened. No grand reveal. No explosion. Just the sound of birds chirping in the distance.
The young mouse huffed in disappointment and turned to leave, wishing he hadn’t gotten his hopes up. All his Sci-Fi TV shows and books had lied to him. Cool things never happened in real life. The world just didn’t work that way. But then, the creaking of a rusty hatch forcing its way open somewhere nearby caused him to stop in his tracks.
Brome circled the area, searching for the source of the sound. The switch must have done something, after all. He checked every nook and cranny, below each bush and on top of every rock and stump. His query remained elusive. Whatever the lever had opened was clearly well hidden.  Brome took a step backwards, hoping the action would give him a different view of this patch of forest.
In a way, he got exactly what he wanted; the fallen tree he tripped over certainly forced him to see the area from a different angle. But the unexpected fall wasn’t very pleasant and Brome couldn’t help but wonder how badly he’d have to hurt himself before his parents would let him come home. He lay on the ground for a moment, half tempted to sink into the dirt and become one with nature. Thankfully, such drastic actions did not end up being necessary.
It was no wonder Brome hadn’t noticed the bizarre hole the switch had uncovered. Half buried by the log and built from camouflaged materials, he would have missed it completely if not for the fact that he’d practically fallen right on top of it. He sat up, thoughtfully. Whoever had installed this hidden treasure trove obviously hadn’t wanted anyone to find it. How long had it been since someone sat where he now sat? Since somebeast had peered into the hole to examine its secrets? Brome gently removed an object wrapped in old newspapers, bursting into a fit of sneezes at the resulting cloud of dust that had floated into the air.
It was old. Old-old, as in more than just a few years old. The newspapers were from several decades ago. Their edges had curled with age, and some of the lettering was too faded to be legible. Fortunately, Brome had little interest in the newspaper; the item it protected was far more intriguing. A journal. And journals always had juicy secrets written in them – he’d learned that from snooping in Rose’s bedroom (though this journal would inevitably be much more interesting than his sister’s diary).
The journal’s design was simple enough. It was made of thick brown leather with the insignia of a paw print on the front cover. Brome wasn’t sure what kind of creature would have an entire extra toe. He also wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. What if the journal contained something bad? Something he wasn’t supposed to see?
It must have been hidden for a reason, after all. The young mouse sat for a moment, pondering his options. He could, of course, bury the journal and get back to work hanging Graunt Polly’s signs. He could also take his chances and open the book regardless of ancient curses or government Intel. It was a difficult choice.
“Alright, mystery beast. Let’s see what you’ve been hiding,” Brome muttered when his curiosity finally got the better of him. He hummed thoughtfully and flipped through the first few pages. They were covered with sketches of creatures he had never seen before. Detailed notes and memos accompanied many of the sketches.
“It's hard to believe it's been six years since I began studying the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Falls,” he read aloud from the page that had the most writing. Six years was a long time to be stuck in this place. The author must have had an awful lot of spare time on their paws to create such an elaborate journal. Flipping through the journal some more, Brome found himself growing more intrigued with each page he read.
Eventually, the writing and sketches grew increasingly erratic and less caretakingly organized. Notes that made no sense lined the margins in some places. One page in particular had the words Trust No One scrawled across its top in large lettering. Brome read the rest of the entry with bated breath, “Unfortunately, my suspicions have been confirmed. I'm being watched. I must hide this book before he finds it. Remember: in Gravity Falls there is no one you can trust." He paused, confused. That seemed… harsh. But if Gravity Falls really did have a dark side-
“Watcha doin?” someone said, sending Brome into a frenzied attempt to hide the journal behind his back. He groaned when he realized who it was. His sister gave him an awkward wave.
“Rose! Thanks for that. I really needed a heart attack today,” he stated flatly.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rose told him, sitting down on the fallen tree, “Graunt Polly sent me to check on you.”
“Oh,” he said. He felt a little foolish for being so easily shaken. The journal’s tone was clearly getting to him.
“So… what were you reading that you didn’t notice me coming your way?” she asked.
“It’s nothing,” Brome said quickly. Rose hummed in response, clearly skeptical.
“Seems like pretty interesting nothingness. You were really invested in it.”
“Well… it’s not nothing nothing,” he admitted, “Just not something I should show you out here where anyone could happen to walk by. Let’s go somewhere more… private.”
“Alright. But now I’m curious. This better not be evidence of aliens, or I’m going to be very insulted that you didn’t show me right away,” Rose teased, ruffling his head fur. Brome winked at her and stood up. He waved the journal at her before taking off in the direction of the Mystery Shack as he said,
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
After all, surely the book journal hadn’t meant sisters when it said trust no one… right?
7 notes · View notes
hard-boiled-criminal · 4 years ago
Text
Planetary Magick: 2
(Twisted wonderland x reader)
Masterlist
_______________________
Unedited
“Yeah…charming.” Apparently, by ‘charm,’ the headmaster meant ‘dilapidated and might have asbestos.’
An old Iron fence surrounded the perimeter, the bars mangled and twisted, as if something rammed into it over and over at each possible section of fence. You could only hope that whatever did that was no longer here. Unsurprisingly, the fencing was rusted in many places and had dead vines draped around them, no doubt having tried to survive on the fence but to no avail. What stood out as odd to you though, was the gate: it had an intricate design reminiscent of the black skeletal structure of a stained-glass window. Though it was odd to see these graceful curves and patterns on the gate compared to the arrow-headed fencing, it was something else that put you off. The gate itself was in pristine condition—no rust or dents whatsoever. You noticed an old, rusted padlock on the ground nearby, which was most likely used to seat the gate once upon a time, but that only lead to more confusion about why only the gate was so well taken care off.
The grounds themselves were mostly barren, save for a few vertical hedges and some dead trees. The dorm building itself sat atop the small hill and was in pretty bad shape. All the windows had been sloppily boarded up and patches of shingles were missing from all over the roof.
“Right, right,” Crowley brushed off your comment and lead you up the stone stairs towards the dorm. “Please come inside.”
             ‘Maybe it’s not that bad on the inside?’
Scratch that, you felt like the guy on the receiving end of “Sike! That’s the wrong number!” You didn’t think it could get even worse, but the interior proved you wrong. It was a complete mess inside; furniture stained and overturned, firewood and books scattered everywhere, cobwebs and spiderwebs in every nook and cranny, paintings and pictures either crooked on the wall or on the ground. The wallpaper was peeling at the seams with patches missing all over, and one of the wall sconces was completely broken, both the lightbulb and glass cover missing. And while the floorboards looked okay, there was no doubt in your mind that some of them were definitely rotted and would collapse under your weight in a heartbeat.
You turn and blankly stare at the headmaster. Did he really believe these were suitable living conditions? You were almost positive there was mold in this run-down dorm, and who knows which ones pose a threat to you since you’re an alien? “Does OSHA not exist here or something?”
“I’m sorry, but I do not believe I have heard of this ‘oh-shuh,’” Crowley replied, sounding honest.
“The Occupational Safety and Health Administration?” You got a blank look from Crowley. You sighed, “figures…” ‘Note to self: learn how to establish a government-funded fantasy OSHA so you can pile Crowley with violation fines. Or at least threaten him with them so he’ll fix up the damn place.’
“Staying here will at least keep you out of the rain,” he rushed to get his sentences out. Maybe he got nervous when he heard you say ‘safety and health?’ “I’m going back to do more research. Make yourself at home. Don’t go wandering around the school! Goodbye!” With that, Crowley rushed out the door in a hurry.
‘Well fuck. First order of business: cleaning up lest I die of never-ending sneezing fits.’ You were only able to get all the furniture upright before it started to rain, making you lose all focus and run to peak out a window, trying to get a good angle to see the rain, and hopefully lightning, through the boards.
You’ve always loved the sounds of rain and thunder. More importantly, there was finally something normal. Hearing the rain pattering against window and seeing the occasional flashes of lighting in the distance relaxed you. Out of habit, you counted the seconds between the lightning and thunder to estimate how far away it was. You counted eight seconds before you heard the low rumbling of thunder.
You sighed, content, before you remembered, “It’s storming! I can collect storm water!” You ran to the first door you saw and flung it open to see what looked to be a kitchen. Excited to finally get a round of good luck, you searched through the cabinets, grabbing any jars and bowls you could find. You found a total of three glass jars, which you removed the lids from, and two large bowls. You stacked the bowls and placed the jars as best as you could inside the top bowl before heading back out the front door. You walked out from the covered entrance into the rain and placed the containers along the side of the stone path so they wouldn’t be in the way. The rain started to fall heavily, forcing you to run back inside before you were completely drenched. Luckily, the large hooded cloak you wore kept you dry for the most part. You carefully pulled off the partially-singed wet coat and draped it across the back of the rocking chair you righted earlier to dry.
“Hyii! It’s really coming down!”
Startled, you snapped your head to face the direction the voice came from, only to be met with that same bakeneko (monster cat) that tried to incinerate you.
“Gyahaha! You’ve got this stupid look on your face like a spider being attacked by a water gun!” The bakeneko cackled at you. They must have snuck in when you set out the bowls and jars. “I’ll have no trouble sneaking back into school. If you think getting thrown out is gonna make me give up on getting in, you’ve got another thing coming!”
“Mm, well good luck little bakeneko. It might help to not set the school on fire,” you gave them some helpful advice.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. All that matters is that I get into this school,” the bakeneko brushed off your words. “Afterall, I’m a genius who is destined to be a great magician! I've been waiting for the Ebony Carriage to come pick me up. But... But... Hmph! The Dark Mirror just doesn't have an eye for this. So that's why I came here on my own. Not letting me in would be a loss for the world; humans just don't get it.”
“Well, I have to agree with you on the Dark Mirror part. Afterall, it decided to kidnap me, and I can’t do any of that flash-bang-boom magic you’ve been throwin’ around.” ‘But I can do other magick… I wonder if they have my kind of magick here… I’ll have to do some research later…’
“Wha? You can’t use magic? Pfft! You’re useless!” The bakeneko shrieked as a drop of water fell on him through the ceiling. “So cold! The roof is leaking!” He didn’t move out of the way before another drop hit him. “Fgyaa! It keeps coming! My adorable ear fire is gonna go out at this rate!”
‘Instant karma, bitch.’ You sighed, “I guess I’ll go get one of the bowls.”
“Magic should fix this leak up real quick, but you don’t got any.”
“Yeah, yeah, I can’t make things go boom, I get it. If you’ve got such a problem with the leak, why don’t you fix it yourself, bakeneko?” You said over your shoulder as you walked to the door to collect one of the bowls from outside.
“Huh? Help you? No way! I’m just a regular monster staying in a rainy place. You better get a can of tuna ready before I do any work.”
You shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself.” You felt a drop of water land on your head this time. ‘Looks like I’ll need to get both of the bowls.’ You grabbed your damp cloak from the rocking chair and quickly threw it on before running outside towards the bowls. They had already collected about half a centimeter of storm water, and not wanting to waste it, you poured the contents of the bowls into the closest jar. Sprinting back inside, you first placed the bowls down at your feet so you could quickly peel off your now-soaked cloak and hang it back on the rocking chair. You placed the bowls under what looked to be the worst leaks in the lounge area. ‘I wonder if there’s a cleaning bucket or something in a closet somewhere.’
“Yo, I’m gonna go see if they’ve got a bucket somewhere,” you notified the bakeneko, not getting an answer, as expected.
You peered over into a nearby hallway, suddenly much more nervous as you stared down the long, dark hallway. ‘This feels like a horror game and I hate it.’ You tentatively took a step forward, and then another. You made it about five slow steps in before the floor loudly squeaked under your weight. ‘I just had an interesting thought: Actually, fuck this.’ You spun on your heel with false bravado, your entire body now tense. As you stiffly walked back towards the lounge, you froze in place as you felt the familiar tingle of eyes watching you. ‘Okay. Don’t look back. Just. Just keep walking. Put one foot in front of the other.’
It turns out it didn’t matter if you looked back or not because three ghosts suddenly appeared in front of you. They… didn’t look how you’d expect ghosts to look like. These ones looked more… cartoonish. They weren’t half as scary-looking as some of the monsters you’d seen in Scooby-Doo.
One of the ghosts giggled while the other two spoke, “We haven’t had a guest in so long…” Said one.
“I’m itching for some action,” said the other.
“Yeah, no, I’ll pass. I’ve had enough excitement for one day, thanks,” their completely underwhelming appearance circumvented practically all your initial fear, leaving you with only pure exhaustion. You didn’t have much of a filter in this state, but you didn’t really give two shits about what you said when you were tired anyway.
“Why are you talking to yourself…” the bakeneko walked around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. “Gyaaa! G-g-g-g-ghooosts!”
Looked like someone was afraid of the cartoon ghosts.
“The people living here got scared of us and left,” a ghost explained.
“We’ve been looking for more ghost pals,” another spoke. “How about you guys?”
“Deadass? Fuckin’ go for it.”
The ghosts and bakeneko looked a bit shocked that you blatantly agreed to let them kill you to turn you into a ghost.
“Wow, you guys aren’t up to date on humor, are you?”
The bakeneko was the first to snap out of disbelief and shouted, “Grim, the Great Magician, isn’t scared of some ghosts!”
‘Heh, I ain’t afraid of no ghost.’ You had to mentally remind yourself to not start humming the ghost busters theme.
Grim, as you now learned his name was (you think), spewed more of that bright blue fire, completely missing all of the ghosts.
“Where are you aiming?” The ghosts mocked him and laughed. “Over here, over here!”
“Shoot! Stop disappearing!” Grim uselessly shouted at them and continued to be a living flamethrower.
“My mans, please, stop. At this rate there’ll be no dorm left to keep us dry.”
“Shut up! Don’t try to give me orders!”
“…I’m too tired to deal with this shit anymore. Fine. I’ll get you a can of tuna if you win without burning the house down.” You mumbled the first part before speaking to Grim.
“Wah? Mm, I-I’m a genius. I won’t let one—” Grim tried to keep his stubborn pride but was interrupted by the ghosts’ mocking laughter. “Bunch of cowards, ganging up on us!”
“Two cans. Take it or leave it.”
Your new offer seemed to change Grim’s tune in a heartbeat. “Hey, you! Tell me where the ghosts are!”
“’Kay. On your left,” Grim followed your orders and managed to singe one of the ghosts with his flames.
“I hit it!” Grim shouted, now sounding excited. “Alright, let’s chase them all outta here!”
Cue you shouting directions at Grim and him spewing fire in said directions. In all honesty, it felt like a pokemon battle. Except your pokemon was a talking cat with a holier-than-thou attitude. And you were fighting actual ghosts—not ghost type pokemon—actual previously-living-human ghosts. After a few minutes of Grim burning the ghosts, however that worked, they eventually fled the scene of your would-be murder.
“E-eh? We…won?” Grim spoke with the disbelief of someone who has never won in life before.
“Yup. Good job bakeneko Grim.”
“Ha-heee, that was scar—No, I wasn’t scared at all!” Oh Grim, what caused you to act like your pride is what matters the most? “This is nothing for the Great Grim! How ‘bout that, ghosts? You done?”
“Hey, don’t taunt them, bakeneko. If they come back, I’m not giving you directions.”
“Why do you keep calling me ‘bakeneko?’ What’s that even mean?”
“Mm, it’s because you’re like a bakeneko. They’re mononoke, yokai, that resemble cats,” Grim looked ready to protest, but you continued before he had the chance, “and are extremely powerful. If you anger a bakeneko, your chances of getting out alive are slim to none.”
“Hmmph, well, I suppose The Great Grim will allow you to call him by such a title.”
Before you could continue to talk about bakeneko and other mononoke or yokai, Crowley came in through the front door just as you and Grim made it back to the lounge.
“Good evening,” he greeted. “I have graciously brought you supper.” That’s when he noticed Grim beside you. “You’re the monster that ran amuck during the entrance ceremony! I threw you out of the school! What are you doing here?”
“Hmph! I exterminated the ghost problem! Be grateful!” Grim puffed out his chest as he spoke, continuing to act high and mighty.
“Hmm? What do you mean by that?”
“…There were ghosts here that wanted to turn us into ghosts,” you blandly explained to the headmaster.
“Now that you mention it, there were some prankster ghosts living here so students keep away from this dormitory. And that's why it is now empty. I'd forgotten that.”
You half-heartedly glared at the headmaster. ‘Oh, how convenient. You put up the broke alien in a haunted house with killer ghosts that you just so happened to forget about.’
“However, hmmmm…” Crowley either didn’t notice or acknowledge your glare. “For you two to work together to get rid of them.”
“I'm not gonna overlook that "together" comment. They were just standing there watching. And I did this for a can of tuna—Ah! I haven't gotten that tuna yet!” Grim spoke, still holding on tight to that attitude of his.
‘Grim, I swear to whatever deities rule this place that you aren’t gonna get those cans of tuna if you keep up this habit of pushing others down to raise yourself up.’
“I'd like the two of you to show me how you exterminated those ghosts.”
‘Crowley, no—'
“But we already got rid of all the ghosts! Before that: Give. Me. Tuna!” Oh Grim, so we can agree sometimes!
“I shall be the ghosts. If you beat me, I'll give you tuna cans. For I am gracious.”
“Uh, no, wait, Mr. Crowley, please—”
“Now then, Transformation Potion!” Crowley pulled a vial of liquid from his coat and downed it in one go. It didn’t take long for him to become transparent and ghost-like.
“Eeeeeeeh, I don't wanna. This is a pain and I have to team up with them again…” Grim whined.
You let out a heavy sigh. “Bakeneko, maybe if you show him how strong your magic is, he’ll let you be a student.”
“Grrrnnuuu,” Grim grumbled, annoyed. “This is the last time! You absolutely, absolutely have to give me the tuna!”
And you found yourself in a pokemon battle once more; this time, it was you and a bakeneko versus an actual living breathing person that can turn into a ghost.
‘If it’s a pokemon battle, might as well use pokemon rules.’ You pointed at the see-through headmaster, “Grim, bite him!”
“Hah? You really are a stupid human!” Grim shouted and spewed fire instead, though he missed like before.
“Fine, we’ll use your fire, but I’m explaining the pokemon system to you later. On your left!”
Turns out, pokemon battles can get boring when it’s just the same thing over and over again. Eventually, it seemed the effects of the potion wore out and Crowley returned to his usual opaque self.
“Hee-haaa…” Grim was panting, trying to catch his breath. “How 'bout that!”
“I can't believe… There is a person who can command monsters,” Crowley spoke in mild awe mixed with disbelief.
‘…Does this world not have pokemon? Should I?... No, I shouldn’t… but what if—what if I introduced myself as Gary Oak and just… no I can’t do that. I can’t tell people “smell ya later.”’
“Hmmm... Actually, my teacher senses were telling me since the uproar during the entrance ceremony that you have talent as an animal or wild beast trainer.”
‘…This man is really making this a cliché pokemon plot… Is this how it all started? Am I the original trainer!? Nah… Unless—’
“But, no matter how…” Crowley began muttering to himself, to quiet for me to make out.
“Hey, just let him stay here,” you were exhausted at this point and the bakeneko had honestly grown on you some. Plus, you needed him around in order to explain pokemon to him.
“What now? Let a monster live here?” You couldn’t see Crowley’s face behind the mask, but you were sure he was giving you a judging look.
“Well, I mean, he did just show you the magic he’s got, which is a whole lot more than I’ve got, and you’re letting me stay here. So why not let him stay? He still a magician, he’s just, well, in the shape of a cat.”
After a few seconds, Crowley sighed, “It can’t be helped.”
“Funa!? Really?!” Grim’s eyes widened and lit up as bright as his flames.
“However, I can't simply allow someone, let alone a monster, into school who wasn't selected by the Dark Mirror. Also, I can't let you be a freeloader here until you return to your own world.”
“Talk about short-lived joy…”
“Listen until the end,” Crowley then turned to you. “Concerning the fact that your soul was called here, the school has to take responsibility as the owners of the Dark Mirror. For the time being, you'll be permitted to stay in this dormitory for free, but other necessities you will have to provide for yourself.”
‘Uhhh what? I don’t even have my own clothes. How the hell am I supposed to live with no money or ID?’
“Seeing as you have nothing to your name,” he gave a slight chuckle for reasons unknown, “here is my proposition.”
Your mind immediately jumped to all the horror stories you’ve heard of what comes from owing shady people favors. The growing panic must have shown on your face according to Crowley’s next words.
“No need to fret, I'll have you do maintenance and odd jobs around campus. From what I can see, you're pretty decent at cleaning,” he said after glancing around the room. “Would you two like to become the "handyman" of the school? This way you will receive special permission to remain on school grounds. You'll also be able to research going home or study whatever you desire in the library. For I am gracious. However! Only after your work is done.”
“Eeeh!? I'm not okay with that!” Grim complained. “I wanna wear that fancy uniform and be a student!”
“It's fine if you're unsatisifed. I'll simply toss you out again.”
“Ffgnnaa!? I get it! I just have to do it. Just do it!”
“’Kay.”
“Wonderful,” Crowley clapped his hands once in delight of our agreeance. “Then, you two starting tomorrow, endeavor to be the best handyman at Night Raven College!”
“Cool, now that that’s settled, headmaster,” he turned to face you. “I’m, like, about to pass out from pain. I’m covered in bruises and burns, plus my vision is blurry and I can’t focus on anything. My eyes are like a camera lens that twenty children smeared their greasy fingers on. You’re magical in that flashy, immediate results way, right? Doesn’t that mean you or someone else can help me not feel like I want to peel off my skin? It’d be cool for my skin to not burn when I get cleaning solution on it tomorrow.”
“Oh, uh, yes, of course,” Crowley almost seemed sheepish, as if he were embarrassed to have not truly noticed the state you were in until now. “While healing magic is not my forte, it should be enough to heal the wounds you have.”
He pointed his palmed towards you and you watched as it began to glow a pale yellow. Slowly you felt your burns and bruises dull themselves to just faint aches. He kept this up for about a minute before he extinguished his magic and pulled his hand back.
“Now, the worst of your wounds are still be a bit tender, but they should be completely healed after a good night’s rest. So, off you go then; sleep now so you’re ready for work in the morning,” He shooed you off with a hand gesture.
“Thank you, headmaster. C’mon Grim, let’s get going.”
As you and Grim headed up the stairs, the headmaster turned around and walked out of the building. Each step creaked under your weight as you trudged up them. While the pain was all but gone, your fatigue was still all-consuming. You followed Grim down the upper hallway, since it seemed he already picked a room before, probably when you went to find a bucket. You followed him into a room in a similar condition as the rest of the dorm. Across from the door sat a fireplace in the center of the opposite wall, a large mirror mounted above it. There were tall windows stationed on either side of the fireplace, almost as tall as the room itself. Towards the left side was a chair covered by a gray dust-cloth, and on the right sat a simple twin-sized bed. You pulled the duvet off the bed and shook it out, watching as you made a cloud of dust dance in the air. As soon as you placed the comforter back on the bed, Grim jumped up and curled himself up in the center of the bed. You were too tired to do anything about that; you’d just have too try and sleep around him. After shaking any dust off of your pillow, you slid yourself under the covers, one leg dangerously close to sliding off the bed. You fell asleep in record time that night.
.                                          .                                          .
             You had a rather rude awakening the next morning consisting of Grim yelling at you and pawing at your face because the ghosts were back. Streams of blazing blue fire almost singeing your face made this one of your worst morning experiences to date. With a final warning of there being a one-sided prank war, the ghosts phased away.
             “We’ll get rid of you eventually!” Grim shouted after them, but there was nothing but thin air left.
             “C’mon, bakeneko. Let’s go see if there’s any food in the kitchen,” You beckoned Grim with a small wave.
             “Hmph. Fine. But there better be tuna!” Grim said with a harrumph and trotted out the door ahead of you.
             As you went down the stair at the end of the hallway, you saw Crowley standing in the lounge room, waiting for you and Grim.
             “Good morning, you two,” he greeted when he noticed you. “Did you sleep well?”
             “I was sprawled out then fell out the bottom! Just how ramshackle did you let this place get?” Grim shouted, equally as upset about the state of the dorm as you were. “Then the ghosts woke me up, this is the worst!”
             “Like the dead,” was your response.
             “Even though you just got tossed from another world you can still be cheeky, wonderful!” Crowley was as upbeat as ever. “I came to speak to you about your work for today. Today you are to clean the campus, but campus is quite large. Cleaning it all without magic is impossible. So, I'd like you to clean Main Street to the main gate to the library, understood? Please watch Grim closely so he doesn't cause a scene like yesterday.”
             “I’ll try best,” you said and shrugged. You didn’t know what you’d do if Grim went out of control; you’re not fireproof, after all.
             “I'm counting on you. You have permission to have lunch in the school cafeteria. Take care of your work enthusiastically,” and with a flutter of his feathered cape, Crowley took his leave, presumably going back to campus.
“Tsk, no way I'm doing any cleaning,” Grim scrunched his nose at the thought. “I wanna go to class and, bang! Boom boom boom! Use a bunch of awesome spells!” He punched at the air with his ‘booms.’
“How ‘bout we just go to the library after we finish cleaning. Besides, libraries are where they keep all the old forbidden knowledge!” Yeah, under lock and key so no one can read them, but you weren’t about to tell Grim that. “Imagine just how much the other students will revere your power if you master ancient magic!”
“Well, what are you waiting for, human? Let’s get going!”
“Okay but let me collect my storm water first. If I wait too long, it’ll all evaporate.”
“Hmph, fine, but make it quick!”
You quickly jogged over to your bowls and jars that each held a good two inches/five centimeters worth of storm water. You poured all the water you collected into one of the jars before carrying everything back inside. You set them all down on the kitchen counter, then checked the cabinets for a lid to the jar. After finding a lid and sealing the storm water in the corresponding jar, you met back up with Grim in the lounge.
“Alright, let’s get moving.”
“About time,” Grim sauntered off, sass radiating from him with each step.
.                            .                            .
             The campus was bustling with life, students with hair every color of the rainbow going every which way. After a couple minutes of walking towards what you hoped was Main Street, the crowds began to thin out, students having made it to their respective classes. It wasn’t all that hard to find Main Street, seeing as it was the busiest and largest street on campus. What you weren’t expecting was the street to be lined with seven statues of iconic Disney villains.
             ‘I thought… I thought I was supposed to be on another planet or world or something? Why are there Disney Villains? Are you telling me that Walt Disney himself was able to expand his franchise across all of time and space?! And maybe across dimensions and alternate universes too?! Hey Walt? You’re taking it too far, man.’
“Uwaaaah~ Amazing. So, this is Main Street. I didn't get a good look yesterday but what's with these statues? All seven of them look pretty scary. This granny looks especially snobby,” Grim said, making a face at the Queen of Hearts.
“You mean the Queen of Hearts? Yeah, she played croquet with flamingos as the mallets and hedgehogs as the balls. While they were alive. Not cool if you ask me. Or most people. Animal cruelty is bad.”
“Ehh?! Why would this lady do that?” Grim looked appropriately confused.
“Who knows? Besides, the Cheshire cat is way better. A true chaotic neutral, that one.”
“Who’s that? And what does a cat have to do with this granny?”
You were about to answer before you were cut off by a new challenger approaching. “You don’t know about the Queen of Hearts?” They had a boyish appearance with short, messy orange hair and a red heart stamped over their left eye.
‘Actually, we were just about to discuss the Cheshire cat, but go ahead and assume, I guess.’
“You know her too? Is she important?” Grim asked the redhead, his attention easily being grabbed by this newcomer.
 “In the past, she was the queen who lived in the Rose Maze. She was someone who valued rules and discipline above all, strict in all things from the march of the Card Soldiers to the color of rose bushes. It was a land of madness where all submit to her rule. Why you ask? Because or else it was off with your head!” The heart-eye boy monologued with some dramatic flair.
“That's terrifying!” Grim shrieked, probably at the thought of someone chopping his head off.
“It's cool! I like it. Nobody would listen to a queen who's just nice all the time, right?”
‘Uhhhh, that queen is a tyrant, and tyrants are what lead to revolutions so… vive la révolution.’
“I suppose. A strong leader is better.” Oh, Grim, you sweet summer child who doesn’t know the difference between strength and fear.
“By the way, who are you?” Grim asked.
“I'm Ace, a fresh-faced first year. Nice to meetcha~” The boy, Ace, said with a musical lilt.
“I am Grim, a genius who'll become the greatest magician. The dimwit over here is (y/n). They're my henchmen.”
“Bakeneko, don’t you dare put me on the same level as a Scooby-Doo villain’s underling.” You glared at Grim who gave a sheepish chuckle in response.
“You've got an odd sounding name.”
“People from different places have different names. It’s called culture.” You said blandly, trying to cover up your growing anxiety.
Ace shrugged. “I guess. Just never heard your name before.”
“Hey, Ace,” Grim grabbed his attention; you could feel your shoulders sag in relief. “The lion over here with the scar, are they famous?”
Well, Ace seemed to have this handled, and you didn’t need to hear him summarize the Disney villains. Instead, you ignored him and went over to the statue of Hades and looked at him.
‘If this confirms that Hades also exists in this world, does that mean I can work with him? I know many witches back on Earth work with Greek deities, with Hades and Persephone usually being the best of them to work with. Hmm… I’ll have to do some more research.’
You then crouched down to read the stone plaque engraved in Hades’ pedestal. The large plaque read: “The lord of the underworld and guide to the wandering souls of the dead. He carried out his fearsome duties with diligence and care, m…ing even the de…t to offer their aid.” Some words had eroded away, becoming mostly unintelligible sans a few letters.* You tried to make out those two unknown words, tracing your fingers around the grooves in hopes that just maybe you’ll be able to figure out enough of the letters to piece the word together.
“No matter how long you stare at it, you’re not gonna get anything out of that, y’know,” Ace said from behind you.
You sighed and stood up, your momentary reprieve from your anxiety over. “Well, it doesn’t hurt to check.” The plaque didn’t have any information you didn’t already know, except for maybe the words you didn’t know.
“Anyway,” Ace cleared his throat, “He's the Lord of the Underworld! He rules a land crawling with evil spirit on his own. No doubt he is extremely skilled. Even though he's got a scary face, he did that detestable job without ever taking a vacation, and his sincerity won over Cerberus, the Hydra, even the Titans, to fight for him.”
“Hmmm, Hmmm. So having talent doesn't mean you get to be haughty.” Grim hummed in thought.
‘Oh, my sweet tiny bakeneko, you’re learning about manners; I’m so proud.’
“And the last one, with the horns?”
‘Oh hell yeah, Maleficent! We stan an absolute queen. Besides, who doesn’t love dragons?’
“That is the Witch of Thorns from the Magic Mountains,” Ace said, addressing Maleficent with a title rather than her name. “Noble and elegant, even within the Seven, she is top class in magic and curses! She can summon lightning and storms, cover an entire country in thorns; her magic is on a whole other level. There was even a time she transformed into a huge dragon!”
“Oooh! A dragon! All monsters look up to them!” Grim shouted excitedly.
“They're all so cool~” Ace spoke, almost dreamily, before his tone did a 180 and turned snide. “…Unlike a certain raccoon.”
“Pfft... Ahaha! I can't bear it anymore! Ahahahaha!” Ace broke out into laughter. “Aren't you the guys who went crazy at the entrance ceremony? You were summoned by the Dark Mirror even though you can't use magic, and you, a monster, weren't called but still trespassed. Yeahhh, it took everything I had not to lose it at the ceremony.”
“Whaaa!? You're a rude one!” Grim fumed, his ear fire growing in size.
             You just stood there and narrowed your gaze, your anger and anxiety fighting each other for full reign. Anxiety won out in the end, keeping you silent when met with his jabs.
“And now you aren't allowed in and got regulated to be a janitor? Haha, how lame,” Ace continued mocking the both of you.
             ‘It’s not like I had a choice in the matter…’ You clenched your jaw while Grim growled. You could feeling the anxiety bubbling in your stomach, beginning to rise.
“On top of that, you don't even know about the Great Seven,” Ace just didn’t know when to stop. “How ignorant can you be? As I recommend you go back to kindergarten before coming to Night Raven College.”
             Grim’s growls got louder as Ace continued. You, on the other hand, couldn’t bring yourself to speak and defend either of you. You felt your throat begin to close up.
“I thought I'd just mess with you a bit, but you really blew my expectations away. Unlike you two, I actually have classes to attend. Keep this school squeaky clean, you two~” He gave you a patronizing wave before turning on his heel and sauntering away.
“This jerk! He's just gonna say that and leave! I'm ticked off!” Grim opened his mouth wide.
“Wait, don’t—” You weren’t fast enough to stop Grim from using flamethrower, for a lack of better terms, on Ace.
“Oh! Watch out! What're you doing!?” Ace angrily yelled at Grim, having just barely dodged in time.
“It's what you get for making fun of me! I'm going light up that fire-head of yours!” Grim matched Ace’s volume.
“Fire-head, huh? Heeeeee. You've really got guts picking a fight with me. I'll turn you into a puffy, little toy-poodle!”
             Grim spewed more flames at Ace’s threat.
             ‘Nope, fuck this. Fuck this. I can’t breathe, dammit!’ You hid behind the nearest statue, which happened to be Maleficent, and kneeled on the ground, trying to steady yourself and calm down enough for your throat to reopen. You bent over to rest your head on the cool grass, closing your eyes and covering your ears, trying to block out the sources of your near attack. You focused on the feel of the grass against your forehead, feeling the separations between the different blades. They were still a bit damp from the morning dew. The more you distracted yourself from the thought of Ace: stressor of the century, the more your throat relaxed and allowed you to draw breath normally once more. You jumped when a shriek pierced through your ears, completely bypassing your hand barriers and reversing all the progress you made towards calming down. Worried that the shriek meant someone got hurt, you jumped out from behind the statue. Instead of someone being hurt, to your relief (you weren’t excited about being an accomplice to assault), the Queen of Hearts’ statue was blackened.
“Crap! The Queen of Hearts' statue is charred!” Ace yelled, the dread on his face matching the shriek you just heard from him.
             “It's because you're blowing the fire around! Just let me fry you!” Grim shouted back at him.
“You really think someone is just gonna let you fry them?”
“Enough!!! Just what is going on here!” The voice of Crowley boomed at the three of you, making you flinch.
‘…Fuck,’ looks like you’re not going to be able to avoid an anxiety attack after all.
             “Guh! Headmaster,” Ace went rigid.
“He's going to tie us up with the 'lash of love'!” Grim yelled. “Get outta here!”
             Though they tried to run, both were caught by Crowley’s whip, foiling their escape plans and making them both yelp in pain.
“Hurts just as much the second day in a row!” Grim whined.
“This is my Lash of Love!” Crowley was furious, and it seemed like he wasn’t going to calm down anytime soon. “It'll be another hundred years before you can outrun me! I told you just yesterday to 'not cause any trouble', didn't I? Then you go and char the statues of the Great Seven!” He directed his words at Grim before turning to Ace. “I very much would like to see you expelled.”
“Wait! Not that!”
“And you,” Crowley looked at you, making you freeze in place. “This is not how you supervise Grim.”
             You opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, unable to gather the breath to form a single word. How could you talk when you were struggling to even breathe?
“My goodness,” Crowley huffed in indignation before turning to Ace. “You, what's your grade and name?”
             “Ace Trappola, first year.”
“Then, Trappola, Grim, and (y/n), as punishment, I order the three of you to wash 100 windows around campus!”
“Nyaaa!? It's all cause this joker was making fun of us!” Grim protested, his fur standing on end to make him look bigger and more intimidating. It didn’t work.
“Eeeh!? Me too?” Ace looked at the headmaster in disbelief.
“Most definitely! After school, meet in the cafeteria. Understood?”
“Fiiine…”
“Nothing but misery since yesterday!” Grim complained.
Soon, both Crowley and Ace left, and you felt your body slump in relief, your knees buckling under you.
“Wha—hey, human! What’re you doing?” Grim ran up to you, genuinely confused.
You held up a finger to say ‘gimme a minute’ while you caught your breath. “Sorry…Grim…” you said after a minute, panting between words.
“Why are you out of breath? It’s not like you were running or anything.”
“This…this just happens… sometimes…” you shifted from kneeling to sitting cross-legged, leaning against the statue of Maleficent behind you. “I’m not very good with yelling… or with people, for that matter.”
“Hmmm,” Grim hummed in thought. “You humans are weird.”
You gave a soft chuckle at that, “that we are, Grim. That we are.” The two of you sat there in silence for a minute or two as your attack gradually faded away. “Hey Grim? I have a proposition for you.”
“Hah? What do you mean human?”
“What if we skipped lunch so we can make Ace suffer a bit?”
“Heee! Now you’re talkin’ my language!” Grim grinned widely, showing of his shark-like teeth.
      *That was all I could make out from the plaque you can see in the seven statues background image.
 A/N: Life’s been pretty shit recently hasn’t it.
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jungle321jungle · 4 years ago
Text
How I Long For Things To Be Restored
When Logan begins going to the old house on the end of Wendon Way, he doesn’t expect to meet the little boy who also frequents there. Nor does he expect to learn the forgotten secrets of the home. 
Taglist: @hells-missing-a-goat @angels-and-dreams @ollyollyoxinfree @gattonero17 @chumo-cookie @dreaming-always @anxiety-ismy-name @mrbubbajones @janustheliar @hogwarts-my-love
Ao3 - Masterlist
~~~~
How I Long For Things To Be Restored
The old house on the end of Wendon Way had stood for what felt like eons. Not one in the sleepy town could recall when it had been lived in last- or someone had ever lived there at all. But regardless of the details, it had become an urban legend among all ages. For children it was a place to avoid due to rumors, teenagers were responsible for spreading the rumors to keep kids away from their spot, and some adults didn’t agree with the idea of trespassing and understandably worried about what could be going on, and finally were the adults who had been those teenagers and fueled such worries among their peers. 
There were unofficial customs and rules to the house on the end of Wendon Way, so when Logan had seen the young boy sitting on the back stairs to the home, he had been more than surprised. Kids shied away from the large looming home, they didn’t sit on the deck stairs attempting to pet birds. 
“You shouldn’t try to touch them,” Logan commented as he approached. “They could have a disease even if they don’t bite or something.”
The boy’s eyes didn’t meet his, in fact he didn't seem like he was listening at all. It wasn’t until he had moved closer causing the birds to fly away that the boy’s dark eyes met his. “Hello, would you mind moving slightly so I can walk by?”
The boy gave him a confused expression as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his patchwork jacket, but after a pause he stood up and moved out the way. 
“It’s going to rain soon,” Logan informed the boy as he walked past him outside into the backyard. “You should head home.”
“Then why are you here?” The boy replied. 
“I need to do something.”
“Like what?”
Logan didn’t reply as he made his way down the stairs ensuring he skipped the one he knew was deemed sketchy by the neighborhood. He walked into the backyard silently wondering not for the first time who maintained the grass back here, before he turned to look at the home. 
“What are you doing?” The boy asked him. Logan hadn’t heard him approach but he had come closer, but he still kept to a relatively safe distance. 
“I need to take some pictures,” Logan answered, turning and walking further away. 
“Why?”
“For a project.”
Logan walked a bit further and then he turned and nodded satisfied with his choice. When he did, he pulled out his phone to snap a few pictures. Satisfied he began to move to other spots in the backyard and take pictures in each spot. 
“That’s a lot of pictures,” the boy commented. 
Logan gave a slight nod, “I want to ensure I have enough. 
“But what are you gonna do with pictures?” 
“You ask a lot of questions don’t you?”
The boy’s head lowered as he looked at his feet and shuffled them, but he didn’t reply. 
“It’s not a bad quality,” Logan assured him as he felt a raindrop hit his skin. “But you also should not talk to strangers as much as you are.”
The boy looked up and gave Logan a look of thought before he spoke, “What's your name then?”
Logan raised an eyebrow amused, “My name is Logan. And yours?”
The little boy gave him a smile, “I’m not going to talk to strangers.”
~~~~
When Logan returned about a week later, the boy was also back. 
He had been sitting on the deck stairs once more, kicking his legs lazily as he stared up at the sky. Upon seeing him Logan had two thoughts. Firstly, he wondered why the kid had returned, and secondly he wondered why the boy’s clothes hadn’t changed. Previously Logan had tried not to focus on the boy’s clothing given he didn’t want to judge, but seeing him here twice in the same outfit was a bit strange. 
The clothes were too big for him, most likely hand me downs. And they appeared worn, his pants had a few holes in them in places other than the knee, as did his shirt, it seemed all patches had been placed on his jacket rather than other clothes. 
“Hi Logan,” the kid said, moving from his spot to let Logan by. “Are you taking more pictures?”
Logan shook his head as he descended the stairs. “Not quite. What are you doing here again?”
The question went unanswered, but Logan wouldn’t force him. Instead he found a seat in the grass and pulled out his sketchbook from his bag. He turned to the page he had started on at home to give it a frown, it was... decent. But then against he hadn’t been looking at the home itself so hopefully he could get a better sense of it now. 
“You never told me what you’re doing,” The boy stated. 
Logan gave a slight sigh as he reached in his bag for his pencils. “I'm updating the house. What it would look like if it wasn't the way it is now.”
“Why?”
“Last semester in school I had to do the same for a building on campus, but the whole time I was thinking about what this place would look like restored. And I have time this summer so I thought I would try. Last time I was here I took pictures of the front and the back. I’m going to work on those. And then next will come the sides, and then I’ll move indoors.”
“Are you going to do each room?”
“I suppose. So now you know why I’m coming here. Why are you?”
The boy gave him a shrug, “Why not?”
Logan silently wondered why he even bothered asking. 
~~~~
“You’ve been coming more often,” the boy noted. “You used to just come once a week but these past few times it’s been more.”
Logan didn’t respond until he had finished setting himself up in the old kitchen. “I’ve been more eager to work on this. And I don’t have a job anymore, so I have more time.”
“Were you fired?”
“No. What are you going to do this afternoon? Are you going to watch me or do something else?”
“I can do both,” the child replied, drawing a slight smile from Logan. 
“I suppose you can.” With nothing more to be said Logan began to play soft music on his phone and began to get to work on redesigning the kitchen. The boy didn’t bother him as usual, and as always he sat far enough away but he’d watch intently. Logan didn’t realize how intently he had been watching until at least an hour had passed and the boy spoke again. 
“What happened to your arm?”
Logan paused in his sketching and looked up to the dark eyes of the boy in confusion. 
“There’s a big bruise.”
As understanding set in, Logan pulled rolled his sleeves down, he must have pushed them up due to the heat without realizing it, but the kid was awaiting an answer he didn’t want to give. “Does it matter?”
“It looks like it hurts.”
“It does.”
“What happened?” 
Logan gave a light sigh, “That’s not a polite question to ask.”
“Was it a fight? Hmm no, you don’t look like you’d win fights.”
“Also not a polite thing to say.”
The boy gave a slight pout but he didn’t question further. 
~~~~
“Can I see the finished drawings? You never showed me.”
Logan looked up in surprise. He hadn’t seen the boy when entering the house, and he had just assumed that for once the boy was home. But it seemed he just hadn’t arrived yet. “In  a moment,” Logan told him. “I’m putting the finishing touches on the kitchen, you can see it after.”
“Which room will you do next?”
“I want to do the living room, but that one may take some work given its size, so maybe the dining room next. That one should be simple.”
“Are you gonna do the bathrooms too?”
“I think so. It would be wrong to redo everything else but them... Alright. Kitchen is done, would you like to see?”
The boy nodded eagerly, but his steps were so slow and cautious as he approached Logan. Logan laid out his sketchbook going to his first drawing and waited until the boy was close enough. He still stayed out of arm's reach, but he was close enough to see as Logan went through the pages. Each one had pictures of the original house taped to it, and then came Logan’s designs done in different colored pencils and pens with a million notes in his neat scrawl beside the many details. 
“How do you know how to do that?”
“I’m studying architecture,” Logan explained. “And last semester I took a class which focused both on restoration and redesign.”
“The walls are plain. And there’s no kitchen things,” the boy commented. 
“There is not,” Logan agreed. “Stoves, paint, cabinets, and all of that can be bought and changed, this can't be.”
“Yes it can. You’re doing it right now.”
Logan couldn’t exactly argue with that. “You think I need to put it in then?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m afraid interior design isn’t where my skills lie... oh I have an idea. Why don’t you pick them out?”
“Me?”
“You’re always here while I draw and you take an interest. Next time I’ll bring some magazines and scissors and you can cut out the ones you like. How about that?”
The boy’s dark eyes scanned Logan’s face as if attempting to look for any hints of deceit, but finally he nodded. “Okay.”
~~~~
“Logan look at this one!”
Logan looked up from his drawing to see that the boy was holding up a magazine and pointing to its dining room set. 
“It would be perfect!” He decided. 
Logan gave a slight chuckle, “I haven’t even finished the dining room yet.”
“Well make the walls match this.”
“I’ll consider it. I thought you were picking out the kitchen though?”
“But I saw and I liked this one. I’m almost done with the kitchen. Promise!”
Logan resisted the urge to smile as he continued in his task. He hadn’t expected the boy to get so excited over clipping things out of magazines, but it was oddly nice to see him so happy. 
“Done!” 
Logan set his sketchbook aside and he moved to see the boy had spread out some clippings. “So I see. You want to do the next part now?”
“What’s the next part?”
Logan didn’t reply at first, rather he reached into his backpack and drew out the plastic sheets he had brought. They were nothing special, simply what his designs would slide into, but even so the boy watched him eagerly. Logan slid in his kitchen design to it and pulled out some clear tape. “Now you can tape them wherever you want on to it. Just be sure to do it on the plastic.”
“So the drawing isn’t messed up?”
“Exactly. And then when you’re done with that...” Logan pulled a thin pointed sharpie from his bag. “Then you sign your name so everyone knows it’s yours.”
“Got it!”
With the boy set up again Logan continued his work on the dining room but it wasn’t too long before a “Tada!” rang out. The boy was holding it proudly and the moment he had Logan’s attention he began to point out different things and why he had picked them, it was adorable in its own way, but what stuck out of the Logan most was when the boy pointed out his handwriting on the bottom. 
“And I finished it like you said. By signing my name, I even did it in cursive!”
“You’re trying to upstage me I see,” Logan learned a bit closer to decipher the messy letters. “Virgil. That’s a nice name.”
The boy nodded in agreement, “It’s nice to officially meet you Logan! Now can I put plants in the backyard?”
“Of course.”
~~~~
“Is it time to start upstairs?”
“I think so,” Logan nodded, picking up his things. “Any suggestions on which room to start with?”
“The office.”
“Then that’s where I’ll start. And you’ll pick out the living room for me in the meantime?”
“Uhuh.”
With that decided, Logan took to the stairs listening to the sound of them creak with each step. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t unnerving. Like most others he had no reason to go upstairs in the old house, for one most people kept the main level and the party trashed area it had become. But according to the myths of his town, there were many stories on why one shouldn’t go up the stairs of the old house on the end of Wendon Way. Some claimed it’s where monsters lived, and others were convinced all who went up there were cursed. Logan personally didn’t believe in such fantasy, but he found himself more on edge than usual. As he reached the top stair and looked down the empty hall he took a deep breath, to calm and remind himself the differences between fact and fiction. 
“It’s the first door on the left,” Virgil chirped from behind him. 
Logan nodded and followed the instructions and opened the door to what had once been an office. Unlike downstairs, the old furniture remained. The room was small with tall bookshelves covering two of the walls. Directly in front of him sat an old dust covered desk and a chair, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to go over to sit at it. Rather he snapped a few pictures to use when he went home and sat in the middle of the floor to draw.  
“You’re not gonna sit in the chair?” 
Logan shook his head, “This spot is fine.”
Virgil didn’t reply, and rather he sat in the doorway and spread out the magazines he had been carrying and began to work. It was strange in a way, Virgil’s ability to stay on task for so long. Logan had always thought kids had short attention spans and yet he and Virgil could sit and work for hours. And even when Virgil had finished picking out what he liked he would find other ways to quietly occupy himself in the meantime. 
“What are you gonna do when you finish?” Virgil asked suddenly.
“I’ll do another room.”
“No like, when you finish the house.”
“I’m not sure. But I’ve got some time before then, I just wonder if I can finish before I go back to school.”
“Do you go to school far away?”
“It’s a few hours away.”
“That’s far away.”
“Then I suppose so.”
Virgil didn’t reply but rather he began to pull at the strings from one of the holes in those same pants he always wore. Logan didn’t push, the boy would speak when he was ready. 
~~~~
“Hi Logan.”
The sudden voice caused Logan to jolt in surprise. His pulse shot up as he looked up from what he had been doing to see Virgil standing in the office doorway. He took a deep breath, “You startled me.”
Virgil gave a shrug as he moved to the stack of magazines Logan had left to the side, “Did you bring new ones?”
Logan took another deep breath, “I did. You need to make more sound when you walk.”
Virgil ignored him, but something about his own words stuck with Logan. Since first meeting Virgil he had known that the boy walked quietly. And it certainly wasn’t the first time Virgil had accidentally snuck up on him, but with the loud creaks the stairs gave even under the slightest amount of weight, he would assume that Virgil would have made a sound coming up the stairs. Had he been that engrossed in his designs that he hadn’t even heard? Or maybe Virgil had been in a different room on this level already. It wasn’t as if Logan had any idea what Virgil did in the house when he wasn’t there after all. What did he do? And why did he come at all?
They were questions Logan had been wondering since first laying eyes on the boy, and yet it seemed as more time passed he was getting more curious rather than less. 
“Logan? Which do you think is a better couch?”
Logan refocused on the present and Virgil pointing out two brown couches in a magazine. “They look the same.”
Virgil responded with a frown, “No they’re not, you’re not helpful.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“I’ll do the sofa last,” Virgil decided, flipping to another page. 
“You could be quite the interior designer when you grow up.”
Virgil shook his head, “That’s not what I wanna do.”
“Oh? Then what do you want to do?”
Virgil didn't reply at first and when he did it was quiet enough that Logan nearly missed it. “Leave.”
“What do you mean by-”
“Logan?” A voice called from another room. Logan’s eyebrows knit in confusion as he stood. “Logan?” The voice called again. 
With that Logan exited the office and headed to the stairs to find his younger brother’s face looking up at him. Patton gave him a relieved smile. “There you are kiddo! This place gives me the creeps.”
“What are you doing here?” Logan replied descending the creaking stairs. 
“Dad wants you so mom called, but you didn’t answer and since I knew you were here I came.”
“My phone was off,” Logan lied. 
“What if something was wrong and we needed to call you?” Patton chided. “And if you got in trouble it would take too long for it to turn on to call for help.”
“Is he that mad?”
“I don’t think so.”
So he was. Logan gave a slight sigh, “Let me grab my stuff.”
He hurried up the stairs silently wondering how to apologize to Virgil, but when he returned to the office the boy was already gone. 
~~~~
“Who was that last time?” Virgil asked as Logan entered the house.
“My brother,” Logan answered. “I finished the office at home. Why don’t we move to the master bedroom?”
“Is he older or younger?” Virgil asked later when they had been sitting in silence. 
“He’s two years younger than me.”
“He sounded like he was treating you like the younger brother.”
“He does that.”
“Are you two close?”
No. “It’s complicated...”
“I have an older brother,” Virgil offered after a pause. “I haven’t seen him in a long time though.”
“Oh, is he old enough to move away?”
“Kinda.”
“Why don’t you like your brother?”
Logan stopped in his sketch and set his pencil to the side. “I didn’t say I don’t like him. I said it’s complicated.”
“Do you like him then?”
“Yes.”
“Then why don’t you get along?”
“We get along,” Logan amended. “Patton gets along with everyone. I said we weren’t close... What about your brother? Do you two get along when you see him?”
“No.”
~~~~
“The final room of the house,” Logan stated, pushing open the door. He glanced down to the boy beside him and Virgil gave a slight nod with an almost solemn expression. 
It was a bedroom.
There were two beds in it. On the left by the door was a twin sized bed, but on the right was a smaller bed meant for a child. Between the two was a large dresser on which sat a broken mirror. Like the others on this floor the furniture was covered underneath a layer of dust, but one thing which was different about this room was the presence of flowers. 
They were dead and shriveled, some even decomposing, but that would mean someone had been in here not too long ago to put them in here. But why and when? Hadn’t this house been abandoned for ages? It didn’t make sense, but even so the flowers laid on the child’s bed beside a teddy bear. Their presence didn’t seem to bother Virgil any, as the boy walked past him into the room to go sit on the bed and pick up the old toy. 
Logan took a deep breath trying not to focus on answers he didn’t have. He only had a week left at home, and one room to go. That should be his focus. 
He had just gotten himself situated on the floor when his phone rang bearing Patton’s name. 
“Hello?”
“Hey Lo!” Came Patton’s cheery tone. “Are you not coming home? We’re about to go see Grandma.”
“I told you this morning I’m not coming.”
“But she’s our Grandma,” Patton complained. “I know she wants to see you!”
“No she wants-” Logan forced himself to take a deep breath. “I’ll see you when you guys get back tomorrow.”
“Okay love you L!”
“You too.” When he hung up Logan found Virgil’s quizzical gaze on him. “My brother,” he explained. “He was asking if I was going with them to see our grandmother.”
“You’re not?” Virgil asked, setting the bear back in its place. 
“I’m not. I don’t really like going over there.”
“Why not?”
Logan grabbed his pencil and set to work instead of entertaining this conversation, but Virgil was still watching him. “Because,” he said finally. 
“Because why?”
Logan bit his tongue to keep from replying something he’d later regret. Virgil was a curious kid. He had known that for months now. “Just because.”
“You don’t like them do you?”
“They don’t like me!” Logan shouted in return. “Okay? My family doesn’t like me. So why should I go spend time with them?”
Virgil’s response came without any hesitation, “Because you have them.”
Logan’s sudden anger and frustration vanished at the words and he took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the paper in his lap rather than into those dark eyes. “When we were kids we were at my grandparents’. And they have a pool... Patton wasn’t a good swimmer, I was. So I was supposed to watch him. But... but I didn’t. And Patton almost drowned. He died in that ambulance too, the EMTs actually brought him back...” he trailed off and shut his eyes trying to stop from falling deeper into his memories. “I nearly got my brother killed.”
“And you still blame yourself?” Virgil guessed. “Your family still does too?”
Logan opened his eyes to stare at the kid in confusion, wondering how someone Virgil’s age could even comprehend what he was saying, but it was all he could do to wipe away the few tears threatening to fall. “Patton is the only one who doesn’t blame me.”
“At least it was an accident,” Virgil said quietly. 
“What do you-”
”You always ask why I come here. It’s not that I come here, it's that I never left.” Virgil said slowly, getting up and coming closer. It wasn’t until he was directly in front of Logan that he spoke again. “Not since the day I died.”
Anything Logan could have said was cut off as Virgil poked his forehead- no Virgil had tried but Logan felt nothing but cool air. 
“That’s- That’s- That’s not...”
Virgil gave him a slight smile as he took another step forward only to walk through Logan. 
“I died a long time ago,” Virgil told him, walking around him and going to sit on that small bed. “I’m not good enough at time to say how long.”
Logan couldn’t get words to leave his mouth. He wanted to say something- anything but any half formed thoughts died on his tongue. 
“Take a deep breath.”
Logan did as he was told and even so it took him three tries just to choke out the word “how.”
“My brother,” Virgil answered, picking up a few dried petals and letting them fall from his fingers. “He pushed me down the stairs. He told everyone I fell.”
“Why?”
Virgil gave a slight shrug, “Without me Mommy wouldn't have to stay with Daddy. So when I died they left. But she used to come back to leave me flowers. And since she died he does it now. He comes on my birthday and... and on the day he killed me.”
“Virgil, I-”
“You should get close with your brother at least,” Virgil interrupted. “I don’t know about the rest of your family. But your brother seems nice.” 
“He is,” Logan replied quietly. 
The boy- the ghos- Virgil gave a satisfied nod. “You know, you’re the only one who’s ever seen me. I don’t know why, do you?”
Logan shook his head quickly, “N-no.”
Virgil gave a shrug as if it didn’t matter as he moved back over to Logan and picked up a magazine. “I’m gonna pick out the bathroom.”
Logan didn’t know how to reply, so he didn’t. He grabbed his sketchbook and instead began to draw. 
~~~~~
“Virgil?” Logan called cautiously upon entering the room. But Virgil didn’t reply or come out from wherever it was he went. He didn’t come out at all when Logan was drawing, or when he left. Nor did he come out the day after that. Or the day after that. 
Logan entered the room and looked around hopeful, but just as before he was completely alone. He gave a soft sigh as he set the flowers he had brought on the bed. “I head back to school tomorrow,” he told the nothingness. “I...I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t even know if you can hear me but, I’m making an effort with Patton already. My parents don’t seem happy about it but I am... so um. I guess I’ll go. I’ll come back though. I need to finish designing this room after all. So... I’ll talk to you then.”
The old house on the end of Wendon Way had stood for what felt like eons. Not one in the sleepy town could recall when it had been lived in last- or someone had ever lived there at all. But regardless of the details, it had become an urban legend among all ages. For children it was a place to avoid due to rumors, teenagers were responsible for spreading the rumors to keep kids away from their spot, and some adults didn’t agree with the idea of trespassing and understandably worried about what could be going on, and finally were the adults who had been those teenagers and fueled such worries among their peers. And for others it was a place to be far from the other worries of life. And yet there were unofficial rules to the house on the end of Wendon Way, one of which was not to go to the second floor due to the ghost which lived there.
But as he had learned, it wasn’t exactly a rumor. 
“This is you isn't it?” He demanded entering the second bedroom. 
The only occupant of the room looked up with a neutral expression. But not getting a response he gave a huff and began to read off the old news article he had found from his phone. “‘Local college student killed in violent car crash after supposedly leaving the Wendon House’. That’s you right?”
Logan’s attention fell back to the ever present sketchbook in his lap, “You're always so loud, Roman. I like peace when I draw.”
“But I’m right aren't I? You died like fifteen years ago outside this place? Am I right?”
“You are.”
“I knew it!” Roman cheered. “So, what are you drawing today?” When Logan didn’t reply Roman moved closer before he frowned seeing the face drawn in the book. “You always draw that same kid. Why?”
“Because I don’t want to forget his face.”
Romag gave an interested hum as he moved to sit across from Logan, “What’s his name?”
“His name was Virgil. And he was here before me.”
“And then what happened?”
“I got close to him.”
“And then?”
Logan stopped drawing for a moment and he looked up, those deep and sunken in eyes meeting Roman’s, “I took his place.”
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insomniac-dot-ink · 4 years ago
Text
Never Alone
The yard sale spread out like a little girl shook her dollhouse and the contents sprawled into messy piles across the grass. There was a box of second-hand shoes that you had to find the mate for yourself and rickety card tables with rusting legs holding knick-knacks ranging from toy trains with gunk in the wheels to stained cloth napkins the color of one of the seven deadly sins. 
Two neighborhood houses on Chestnut Hill had decided to get together and sell the insides of their attics to the unsuspecting masses. I wrinkled my nose at an old toy chest with a yellow finish and long scrapes across the top.
I glanced over to where a tall brunette was inspecting a plastic tea-cup with flower designs on the side. “How long do you want to be Ollie?” I asked sourly as the sun licked over my brow. It was barely even eleven and I could already feel the heat of the day sinking its teeth in.
Olivia barely looked up as I addressed her, she was in “shopping mode” which was a space I couldn’t personally penetrate with either manners or an industrial-sized hammer. “A couple minutes. Ten tops.” She lied and I wrinkled my nose.
I shook my hair back in irritation, “you promised you’d try that new brunch place with me.” I stuck my bottom lip out, “Derick and I were gonna do it… but you know.” Olivia looked up long enough to flash me a sympathetic look and held up two fingers, “just a couple of minutes.” She gave a long pause and tried to wave me off, “Go find something you like. It’s a big sale there’ll probably be something.” I rolled my eyes and turned back to the messy zig-zags of junk. “Ugh.” I walked away with my shoulders hunched.
Olivia Henderson was my roommate and best friend and had a thing for yard sales, second hand stores, people’s closets, junk piles, and anything that smelled a little funky from the lost and found. Her tastes were as inexplicable as the fact she worked in banking. She collected shoddy 18th century reprints and people’s old key chains with anime characters on them and weird bomber jackets covered in patches.
To say the least, she was going to be awhile.
I rounded an burnt ironing board and watched an old couple inspect a bright green bike parked up against a table. I glanced down at my phone and saw a healthy number of notifications which I immediately flicked away out of habit.
The old couple laughed at something as the owners of the house rounded on them and asked something probably included lines like “lovely couple” and “this will be perfect for you…” I rolled my eyes and went around a box with old roller blades and worn jackets for sale inside.
I checked my phone again and there was a new text.
Mariene: I heard about you and Derick :(
Mariene: Want to talk about it? :)
I shook my head like there was something I was trying to dislodge and jammed my phone in my back pocket. The sun simmered above and I kicked a box of board games lightly before weaving back and forth toward the back of the house.
It was a two-story carbon-copy kind of house that was painted grey and felt grey and oozed that bland grey choke hold sensation of suburbia. The houses around it were beige and cream and off-white and had families in them that were working on holding down decent jobs, having 2.5 kids, and then dying. The whole thing made my stomach churn.
I eyed an old rocking chair that at least looked reupholstered recently and heard the last of the old couples voices: our grandson just turned eight…
Their grandson just turned eight. I felt my phone buzz from my back pocket and glanced over my shoulder to check that Olivia was still collecting slightly bent silver forks and drapes with bowling alley designs.
I was ready to leave. I was ready to get brunch and bitch about Derick and Serina and the fact they were now “Derick and Serina.” How the last thing he said was “I love you,” before cheating on me. I took another meandering step toward the house when my eyes landed on a doorway. There was a series of concrete steps laid into the ground itself, tucked away right behind some bushes and at the back of the house.
I eyed it for a second. The door itself was brown and faceless and the only thing interesting about it was that it was open. I cocked my head to the side as a little basement entrance was fully exposed. It reminded me of a scab begging to be itched.
I looked one more time over my shoulder to check that the owners were still talking to the old couple and Olivia was still in love with her oddities. I skipped down the garden level steps toward the door.
Snooping and boredom usually went hand in hand and I justified it in the back of my head with a quick “maybe they have better junk they’re selling down here.”
A few steps down and the light seemed to shift above my head. It became honeyed and slightly cloudy-- like looking through colored glass. The voices of the yard became more distant and I poked my head inside a very cramped looking room.
It was a finished basement that unlike my parents house wasn’t just concrete floors and water damage. I stood up straight as a blast of AC hit me in the face and I took a few more steps into the room to feel that sweet cold air across my skin.
It seemed to be another storage room which was impressive since they already seemed to have an entire universe of junk on their lawn outside. There were brown boxes stacked high and a wooden dresser alongside a big classic baby crib with wooden bars. The cool air inside the room was heavenly, but there seemed to be a sheen of dust through it. The late summer light streamed down  through floating bits of something and my nose began to tickle.
I glanced around the boxes and curiously made my way to the baby crib because I hadn’t seen one like that outside of movies and museums. It looked like it was made of real wood and whittled by hand with a certain amount of care.
My parents had bought plastic industrial-made cribs and quickly got rid of them the second me and my sister were old enough for bunk beds. They weren’t the type of couple to hold onto sentimental keepsakes or make anything by hand.
I delicately touched the railing of the crib and it was warm and the wood was soft like smoothed stones you find near lakes. My eyes glazed over for a moment and some part of me wanted to take the crib home with me. It was handsome and strong and I didn’t own a lot of things with history behind them.
I shook the thought out of my head after a moment because I never planned on having kids. I never wanted to live in a beige neighborhood where people settled for their jobs and settled for each other and settled for raising bratty kids they didn’t even want. Kids that in turn grew up to settle for shitty governments and shitty societal systems and stop dreaming and start focusing on collecting piles of junk and dying on top of them.
I turned around quickly as if to bundle myself up and run away from the whole vision of it. I pivoted and stumbled into a vanity that I hadn’t noticed was right beside the crib. I hit it hard with my whole body. “Oof!” I yelped.
It was a big solid vanity with four drawers and spindly legs and a round clear mirror in the very center of the wooden body. It looked like the same wood as the crib. I had a moment to catch my own panicked eyes in the mirror before the thing teetered backyard.
“No!” I reached to stop it from thundering backward, but it happened quickly. The vanity toppled backward and crushed two small boxes behind it that sent up an entire storm of dust into the air.
I sneezed rapid-fire as the dust exploded and my head rocked back and forth.
“What’s going on?” A sharp voice barked and someone was at the side door. “What are you doing in here?!” I sneezed again and turned around to find one of the owners-- the woman in a pink cardigan, staring daggers at me. Her mouth went round in perfect horror as she saw the vanity toppled backward and me standing in the very center of the dust plumes.
“Sorry,” I said quickly, “I didn’t mean to, but it’s not broken or anything, promise.” I said before sneezing again and wiping at my nose.
“Get out!” Her voice was strained and barely a pitch below hysterical. “Get out of here!”
My brow furrowed and I plodded back toward the door, “It was open--” She pushed me physically from the room and into the stairwell, “you fool.” She spat, “don’t ever come back here and pray to God it didn’t--” She paused, “just pray.” “What?” I backed away from her. “Anika?” Olivia poked her head around the corner as the light beat me over my head. Olivia eyed the owner looking like a bull with red paint in front of her, “Uh?” “We gotta go.” I said flatly. Personally, I thought the woman was overreacting since nothing was actually harmed.
The owner turned to me. “Leave.” I didn’t need to be told twice. I hurried up the stairs and grabbed Olivia’s wrist, “Come on.” I tugged on her.
“Wait, I found this weird map I want to buy.” “I think we just sorta got banned.” I clarified and tried not to wince. I reminded myself it wasn’t my fault the woman completely lost it.
“What?!” 
“I’ll make it up to you.” I said quickly, “lunch is on me.”
I glanced over my shoulder and the last thing I saw was the woman hurriedly locking the door with a huge old-fashioned key and muttering to herself. Something cold dropped into the pit of my stomach and I ignored it.
------------
“I can’t believe you guys are going out without me.” I pouted as I watched my roommates finish gathering their bags and checking their makeup and phones for updates on their Uber.
I lived with three roommates because it was New York City and I wasn’t a billionaire. Olivia was a strange artsy girl who worked in accounting, Carmen was an outgoing career girl with a type-A personality, and Molly was a soft, quiet girl who was getting her PhD in something useless. They were all my type of people, but it didn’t help when they all just stared blankly at me as I moped on the green armchair by our windows.
Carmen puckered her lips, “Hey, we told you to come with us.” She said with an arched eyebrow, “it’ll help get over your bastard ex.” I gave a dramatic sigh, “I’m not ready for a rebound guy yet.” I said tersely and shifted in place. “And I’ve got a headache.” I lied mostly for the effect. 
Molly shot me a sympathetic look. “We don’t have to talk to boys--” “Speak for yourself.” Olivia joked.
“It’s our girls night. We've been planning it for weeks now.” Molly simpered.
I stuck my chin out stubbornly. “Can’t we just stay home and watch TV? I have a breakup ritual to get through.”
Carmen clicked her tongue, “I bet Derick would be so jealous if he saw you already hot and ready to trot right now.” I made a face at them. “I don’t want to make him jealous. I don’t care about that cheating asshole anymore,” I lied again and turned away, “but you guys have fun.” I knew I was mostly refusing out of spite, didn’t they care that I was going through something right now? It didn’t matter either way though as Carmen cheered, “Our Uber’s here! Come on ladies.” “Be good, Anika,” Olivia waved, “don’t get banned from anything else while we’re gone.” She said with a twinkle in her eye and a reference to our outing that morning.
I flipped her off, “Go enjoy getting yourself gonorrhea in a club bathroom.” “We will.” And just like that they were out the door and to their “girls night” without a care in the world.
I groaned and hung my head back. I heard my phone buzz probably with yet another text from my sister. She never got the hint when I didn’t want to talk to her or listen to another one of her lectures beginning with “start growing up already, Anika, you’re almost thirty.”
I closed my eyes and wanted something to scream into.
The apartment was a clean space with dark carpets and low ceilings. It was decorated by Olivia with misshapen nautical lamps in the corners and heavy curtains that Carmen put up so she could Skype with her international colleagues early in the morning.
I stared at the ceiling as I listened to my roommates reach the elevator and the doors dinged. I frowned as the noise faded and something else took its place. It was a faint sound.
I perked up and looked over to the apartment hallway. It was almost so distant I couldn’t make it out, but there was unmistakable shuffling coming from the narrow space. “Hello?” I said and narrowed my eyes.
More sounds of scuffing came from the soft carpets. I stood up. Some animal-instinct sent off alarms in my head and I peered around the corner. I swept my eyes across the closed doors and a dying houseplant by the bathroom.
I looked to the ceiling to check if maybe rats were in the vents, but I heard the noise again: pat pat pat. 
I looked right in front of me where the sound was coming from. Nothing was there.
Pat, pat, pat
I looked down. There were two dark indents in the carpet that seemed to be moving. I backed up until I reached the opposite wall. 
Pat, pat, pat
Something was padding across the floor in front of me, slowly and deliberately. But I couldn’t see anything there.
Some sort of dread settled in my stomach that I couldn’t place, cold and hard and tying knots in my guts. I stared for another moment at empty space, and then ran for the door. I shoved my feet into my shoes, looked at my phone, and then booked it into the hall and down to the stairwell.
“Hey!” I waved as my friends were nearing a blue Mazda. “I changed my mind. I want to come.” I didn’t think I was actually that torn up about Derick, but the mind is a terrible thing, and I didn’t need it playing tricks on me all by myself in my apartment.
--------
My fingers clacked on the keyboard with a certain satisfying fury. The deadline was the day after tomorrow, but that meant it was even more important to get most of the leg work out of the way that night. 
The shine of the fluorescent lights was almost feverish and angry above me and my right wrist ached from typing. It was past midnight by then and it was only me and a lowly intern finishing up work for the night. The building was always “on” in the way that the city itself was always “on,” but I had an article on current campaign finance reform failures that I needed to finish.
It was almost 1am by the time I blinked and Kenny the intern was turning off his desk lamp. I looked up and he looked right back at me. “Um,” he was a sweaty kind of kid with a round face and freckles that popped like pock marks on his cheeks. “Did you, uh, want that on?” He asked nervously as he pointed to his desk lamp for some reason.
I shook my head, “I’m basically done.” I looked at my article. It would need a lot of cleanup tomorrow morning before it went to the presses the next day, “I’ll be right behind you.” I let Kenny get to the elevator first and head downstairs so we wouldn’t have to share any awkward small talk when all we really wanted to do was head home. I was revising the last paragraph-- the one with the real “punch” to it when I heard something.
I looked up just as a soft shuffling sound came from across the room. My neck prickled and I closed my laptop.
Pat, pat, pat.
It had a slow pace and strange rhythm to it, but I was certain this time that it was footsteps. I hunched over, finished closing my bag up, and stood.
Pat, pat, pat
It sounded a little quicker this time, but still slow and steady. I jogged to the elevator and was grateful that it didn’t seem able to run itself. I clenched my jaw and looked over my shoulder. Nothing was there again, and some rational part of me felt ridiculous.
I glared, “I know you’re there.” Pat, pat, pat
It was getting closer now. Closer than it was before.
I bared my teeth, “I don’t know what you want--”
Ding
The elevator arrived and I threw a withering look over my shoulder. “But you’re not going to fucking scare me. Go away.” Pat, pat
It was almost right in front of me now. I darted quickly into the elevator and pushed the button a dozen times to get the doors to close faster. I exhaled when they finally gently clanked shut just as the steps arrived right where I had just been.
I was massaging my neck and thinking about going to shrink when I heard the creature really arrive at the door.
Sccrrrtchhh
I sucked in a quick breath and that same cold dread shook through my nerves. The elevator started descending to the street level, but all I could hear was that same sound over and over again: sccrrtchhh
It sounded like claws on metal.
I spent the whole walk home looking over my shoulder and listening for invisible things and slow footsteps. I waited for its claws to finally arrive and slit my throat. However, nothing seemed to pursue me in the crowded streets or the subway.
It was probably all in my head. Or it was just trying to scare me a little and would go away-- maybe it enjoyed the hunt and not the kill. But something told me that wasn’t the case.
---------------
“So,” I said and a long drawn-out silence passed between us over the phone. “How’s Josh? How’re the kids?” I asked casually and waited for the other shoe to drop.
My sister cleared her throat on the other end of the line, “He’s fine. They’re fine.” She sounded prim and measured as always, “You’re the one we’ve been worried about.” I scowled off into nothing as I sat in a large park with pigeons pecking at the ground nearby. The weather had been turning and the sky was readying itself for the first snow, “Why?” I said without meaning to.
“Because of Derick. You guys had been dating for ages,” she said slowly, “Plus… you know.” “What?” “You only call when you need something.” She said with both a hint of humor as well as accusation in her tone.
“Well it’s not about Derick.” I grumbled, “I was actually calling about…” I drew a deep steadying breath. “I’ve just been straining myself at work a little too much.” I stared at the ground with a hard look. “And maybe gotten a little over stressed.” “Oh?” Mariene waited.
“So,” I forced the words out. “I know you got a good doctor after Liam was born.”
“You mean a therapist?” She said and it sounded triumphant. “Because he handles mostly postpartum depression, but I could find you someone really good. What do you think the problem is?” “There’s no problem.” I said quickly between clenched teeth, “I just need a better way to unwind or someone to… I don’t know. A second opinion.” “On what?” Mariene sounded truly concerned now.
I looked up at the slate-grey sky and sighed, “it’s nothing.” My shoulders drooped, “it was nice talking to you.” I said in a tone that didn’t really convey the sentiment at all.
“Wait,” Mariene said quickly, “Anika, don’t hang up. If it’s really bad, you can stay with me. Or maybe get an apartment of your own! You’re almost 30 and living with 3 other people is--” “Goodbye Marienne.” I hung up. I looked over my shoulder as I had been doing for weeks now ever since a that first panic pumping night. That first feeling of something, something I couldn’t see approaching.
I checked the park one more time but only saw the squirrels in a trash bin and an old man sleeping on a bench nearby. I got up and told myself that I hadn’t heard from it in awhile now. “I’ll just go back to my apartment,” I rubbed my face. “And sleep.”
“And sleep” was mostly wishful thinking at that point. I hadn’t slept well in awhile. Soft bits of snow started to fall and catch in my hair and eyelashes. I took a deep chilly breath that prickled in my lungs and grounded me. I started walking. I had taken to wondering at night and going in random directions. 
I had to use google maps to get home on these nights. I followed the little blue line on my phone down a dark narrow street that directed me toward home. That’s when I heard the distinct echoing.
“Oh.” I said.
Clack, clack, clack
It’s steps reverberated through the dank street and I looked around me. Belatedly, I realized that I had chosen the one street in all of New York that was empty. “Do you only come,” I looked behind me and it seemed even quicker than the last time we met. “When I’m alone?”
Clack, clack, clack
Did it keep getting faster, closer, better at this each time? I couldn’t tell. I started hurrying down the long dark street with empty buildings on either side of me. I needed to find people. I just needed to find some other living breathing person.
Clack-clack-clack-clack
I looked behind me and in the soft fallen snow I saw it’s footsteps. They weren’t shoes or toes or even paws. It was something much worse.
I let out a scream and turned a corner. I ran straight into an old woman with her hair falling out and a sallow look to her skin. “Oh thank God,” I grabbed her and turned, “do you see that?!”
I pointed to the place where the steps were misshapen and lumpy in the snowfall. 
“See what, dear?” She asked with her eyes squinted and I remembered to breath again.
“Nothing.” I collapsed onto the ground next to her, “nothing at all.”
----------------
Things were different after that. I went out more. I went dancing so much the blisters on my toes had blisters. I stayed in crowds. I never stayed home. I considered getting a cat, but then what if it hurt the cat when we were finally alone? I knew I  had started to bother my friends. They gave me irritated looks when I third-wheeled on nights out with their boyfriends. I knew I was getting annoying when I clung to them and looked over my shoulder wherever we went. I knew I was distracted and not much fun.
It didn’t help that Molly saw me sliding a giant knife into my purse. It didn’t help when Olivia asked me what was in my pocket jokingly and reached in to find handfuls of sand. I couldn’t give her the proper explanation. I couldn’t tell her that I needed to see if it was coming.
It stayed at bay though, as long as I was never alone.
I went back to the house on Chestnut Hill. I suspected that’s where it started-- with the dust and the baby crib. However, when I finally found the address that Olivia gave me the place was completely empty with a “for sale” sign out front.
I couldn’t find the owner’s new address and when I tried to find the basement I couldn’t find that either. 
It was midwinter when my friends finally had an intervention. 
“We think you need some me-time.” Carmen said factually as we sat in the middle of the living room. “Why don’t you stay home tonight and give yourself a spa night?” She smiled tightly.
They all stared at me from places on the couch and I didn’t even care that we hadn’t had fun together in months. I just needed them to be in the room.
“Sure.” I said with an absent nod. “We can do a spa night tonight.” “Well, babe,” Olivia said slowly, “I’m going to do some me-time tonight in my studio. By myself. Carmen is going on a date with her boyfriend. And Molly is going to visit her parents tonight.” I turned to Molly. “I’d love to see your folks. It’s been too long.” I gave a strained smile.
Molly shook her head. “They saw you last week.” She said with an equally strained smile. “And I was thinking… it would be nice to be only me and them. You know, with my dad being sick and all.” I clenched my teeth, “Of course.” I went on, “but I’d love to give him some get-well presents.” “And you can!” She said, “but not tonight.”
She got up to leave and I turned to Carmen. I opened my mouth and she put her hand up. “No.” She said, “I let you come out with me and Isiah last time and you wouldn’t even leave us alone on the pier. Just, no.” My face fell as she got up to leave as well, “this isn’t healthy.”
I got up as well, “fine.” I said, “I’ll go out by myself.” I could certainly spend a night in the park or at yet another club again.
I heard a collective sigh and Olivia took my shoulder, “do what you need to do.” She kissed my cheek, “but you need to get some rest.” 
Rest? It sounded like a joke at this point.
I shook my head. “Let me just get my bag and I’ll go downstairs with you all.” I said and hurried to my room. I expected them to wait. They always waited before. Olivia was my best friend and she would never leave me.
I came back to the empty living room.
Pat-pat-pat
It was so fast now. I let out a small cry before dashing out into the hallway. I barely made it out where I banged on every single one of my neighbors doors. “Please,” I hit 603 with my bare hands and tried the door knob, “please, please come out.” Pat-pat-pat-pat
I ran from door to door banging and yelling and running as the thing’s enormous weight bore down. I felt a hot breath on my neck.
“What is it?” A family-man with a beard burst out of room 610. “Are you alright?” I exhaled as the heat from the things mouth disappeared. The tears were streaming down my face then and I reached for my phone, “I’m sorry.” I said and then I made a phone call to the one person I thought might still want to see me.
-------------------
Derick walked in the door with his slouchy jeans and tousled brown hair. He wore a sheepish look on his face and hung back the second he entered the apartment. He was just in time after the guy from 610 left. Derick rubbed the back of his neck as we exchanged looks, “Uh, I guess you heard me and Serina broke up.” I shook my head. “I heard.” Derick seemed to see me for the first time, “babe, why are you holding a baseball bat?” He frowned, “And why did you call me here? Last time we talked you said you’d like to see me dead.” “It doesn’t matter.” I said blankly. Robotically. “None of it matters. You still want me. Yes?” “I mean,” he shifted from foot to foot. “We had fun together. We dated for five years, that wasn’t nothing.” “It wasn’t.” I agreed. “And we could be together again.” His face emptied, “You said we wanted different things though, like, kids and a house. I still want those things, Anika.” I was so tired. I dropped the baseball bat and walked over to him. I wrapped my arms around him so he wouldn’t escape and buried my face in his chest. “Let’s have kids.” I said blankly, “lets have as many kids as we possibly can.” “Alright?”
“But you have to promise me,” I squeezed him tightly around the middle and he grunted as I dug my nails in. “Never,” I seethed between my teeth. I was still shaking somehow and maybe I would never stop shaking. “Never ever leave me alone.”
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kayr0ss · 5 years ago
Text
Welcome Home
[LWA, Diakko, domestic, family, baby?, cute happy shit]
Akko and Diana are still settling into this new life, routine, and responsibility. But coming home to this...? It was the best thing that ever happened to them.
—–
Diana clicked at the button of her retractable pen, eyes moving rapidly from left to right and back again. She paused, humming softly to herself while she appraised yet another essay on how ‘the advent of big data and analytics is a turning point in the synthesis of magic and artificial intelligence technology. She scribbled her remarks on the paper’s margin:
‘Revise – provide suggested guidelines and security measures for magic-infused data-driven machinery.’
Now, it may come as a surprise to many, but Diana never really considered herself a traditionalist. In fact, her on-going tenure at Luna Nova’s higher-education learning center is heavily decorated with progressive and future-minded research and perspectives. This idea, however, simply sounded a little too much like… Croix—and she wasn’t going to pretend that kept her at ease. But Diana also believed that very few people fall far beyond redemption, and Prof. Croix’s appointment as the Head of the Magical Engineering Ethics Board was the perfect example of redemption if there ever was one.
‘As we’ve learned historically, aggressive technological progress should be done under the guiding hand of ethics and humanitarian agenda,” she jotted down. She spared a quick glance to the office clock her before diving back down into the paper.
05:17:PM
Still early, she thought to herself, I could probably finish this stack before going home and—
“Quarter-past-five!” she suddenly exclaimed, forgetting that her former working hours of until well-past-eight were no longer applicable. Recent events had turned her entire world… upside-down.
“Grading will have to wait until tomorrow,” she hurriedly—but meticulously, of course—tidied the papers into her drawer; the pile on the left for marked papers, and unmarked papers on the right. Her keys jingled while she put her belongings back into her handbag, and the hurried clacking of her heels signaled the other professors of her early retreat back home.
--
Diana Cavendish rarely rolled her eyes, but by Jennifer the traffic was horrendous on the north-bound lane. Which she wouldn’t even be on, had she not forgotten the towels she was supposed to buy earlier in-between lectures. Akko reminded her thrice that morning (each time answered with an obedient, “yes, dear.”) Diana was once again reminded that one of the most surprising—and amusing—things she discovered since her marriage to the brunette witch was that between the two of them, Akko was ‘wife-zilla’.
06:13:PM
And there was extra-emphasis on the ‘zilla’ part lately. Traffic be damned, she was going to get those towels.
--
“Eep!”
The sharp whistling of a boiling kettle startled Akko out of the sports magazine she was so deeply engrossed it. Shit shit shit—she clumsily shut the glossy pages closed, darting towards the kitchen and—kami-sama, why did Diana think it was a good idea to have doors everywhere? “Stupid door,” she groaned, anxious to silence the whistling lest it disturb their special guest.
She lunged towards the stove, snapping the burner knob closed. “I could have done that with magic,” she flicked herself on the forehead, old habits from a magic-less childhood kicking in during the oddest moments. She blinked, scanning the kitchen counter for a small box before realizing that she left it back at the living room. “I’m almost as bad at this as I was at transmutation spells!”
About five minutes later, she was jogging back towards the dining area balancing a warmed tumbler in one hand, and several plastic utensils in another. She narrowly avoided tripping over the carpet (“Fuck!”), and was unfortunate enough to hit her shin across the low coffee-table, warranting an impressive parade of crisp, native-to-Japan curses. Thank Kami-sama it was Friday, she thought with relief. Diana would be taking over evening household duties by Monday and she damn well needed a break; even if a break meant more hours working.
She tipped the warmed tumbler over and let a few drops of its content spatter at the back of her hand.
06:37:PM
It was still too warm but should be just fine by dinner time.
--
[Capitalism is a predator, but I’m nearly home.]
Diana hit ‘send’, letting her wife know that she was around 2 blocks away while waiting for the last stoplight to turn green.
[As long as u got the towels lol. Tnx, luv u :-*]
Diana smiled at Akko’s reply, turning her attention away from her phone screen when she saw the soft glow shift from red to green. Yes, she had the towels—and maybe a full set of Reuven-Eilhart designer night pajamas. Or three.
She also brought home new ‘friends’—she saw that the store had recently released a set of ‘We There Bears’ themed products. Diana remembered Akko raving about them; they were apparently quite the in-thing as of late. She was immediately drawn to the pure-white polar bear with an interestingly unreadable expression. “That un’s ‘Nice Bear’,” the clerk supplied. “But if y’gonna get ‘im, you gotta get the whole gang else he’d be lonely.”
And so she did—because if Diana ever did anything she never did it half-way done. Frizzly Bear and Fanda sat snugly beside him in the backseat.
The blonde witch pulled up into their driveway, sorting out her belongings before stepping out to unload her shopping bags from the back. She opened the door and couldn’t help but laugh at herself.
“What has become of me,” she smiled, wondering how to bring three bears and several frilly-looking things into their house without painting herself as silly.
06:53:PM
Warm, yellow light flooded through the dining room curtains, and the familiar sound of their car alerted Akko to Diana’s arrival.
“She’s actually home on time,” she remarked to a little fellow seated at the end of their dining table, pulling on an exaggerated expression of being impressed. But Diana’s arrival always makes her smile, so she walks towards the front door so she can giver he wife a hand and—
She paused, taking a strong sniff of something which was coming out of the kitchen.
“Oh, no.”
The pizza! There was pizza burning in the oven! She bolted back towards the kitchen for some damage control, relieved to find that the pizza was only beginning to blacken at the crusts—easily salvageable.
“Mou, Diana’s gonna give me an earful,” she whined in defeat. She could hear the sound of their door unlocking, followed by footsteps through their dining area and the rustle of shopping bags being unloaded.
To her surprise, Diana had no drop of sternness in her voice. “I’ve missed you,” she cooed.
Akko broke into a grin, turning to face Diana. “Missed you to—”
She bit back her words, fascinated at the sight of her wife, looking weary from a long day, cradling their beloved Sara with all the fascination in the world. Their daughter giggled up to her mother, hands reaching for her face, prodding at Diana’s nose (which scrunched up adorably) and pulling at her platinum curls before squealing in delight.
“I may have missed you, as well.” Diana teased, tossing a smile to Akko’s direction.
“That’s hardly fair!” Akko tried to pout, walking towards the two people she loved most in the world.
Diana nuzzled against Sara’s forehead, running her fingers softly over the thin patch of light-brown hair beginning to grow longer. Sara perked up immediately when Akko came into her field of vision.
“I think she likes me better,” Akko whispered before kissing Diana’s shoulder. She wrapped an arm around the pair and tickled at Sara’s nose.
“Not a chance.” Diana leaned her head against Akko’s, watching as Sara grabbed onto Akko’s finger with a chubby little hand.
“Did you buy her another hundred sets of pajamas?” Akko raised an eyebrow.
“Only three,” Diana tried to hide her defensiveness. “And... several room accessories?”
Akko laughed, “pretty soon we’re going to run out of space in her room. This little lady has got you wrapped around her finger!”
There was no use denying it, so Diana simply rolled her eyes.
“Come here,” Akko smiled. “Welcome home.” She moved up to her tiptoes, and Diana turned her head to meet the brunette half-way for a small kiss. She appreciated the way Akko’s embraced tightened around her torso and warmed her chest; the way it made her family feel so... whole.
Akko pulled back, but Diana chased after her to steal another quick kiss, amused at the way Akko would still blush whenever she did that.
“So,” Diana gave her wife a look, “burnt pizza for dinner?”
“Mou, Sara! Your mother is such a bully!”
--
A/N: Woohoo finally churned another one out! I’m feeling a bit sick, and it’s early in the morning, so hopefully there aren’t that many typos/errors. Anyway I’m doing fine, hope you all are too! I’ve been re-reading Appointments over and over so I can get a feel of the writing style and flow I used to have for it and finally finish the next chapter. I do feel out of touch from how I was back in 2018; so I really need to do a lot of fanfic reading. You guys have any suggestions?
ALSO - meet Sara! Her name means vivid blossoms; it’s Japanese but also western-sounding so win-win for both moms. A homage to ‘Botany’, with the flowers and everything. She was originally meant to be Leia, because I’m a big Star Wars fan, but hey! I saw Sara and instantly thought it was the best fit. Hope you enjoyed. :) [Also, I’ve noticed I tend to switch between past / present tense a lot and I’ll be working to actively fix that moving forward!]
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ericsonclan · 4 years ago
Text
A Part of the Family
Summary: The Everetts are getting ready for Christmas and Louis gets to tag along for some holiday fun.
Word Count: 2539
Read on A03:
“New stockings! New stockings!” AJ chanted, bouncing happily in the backseat of Clementine’s car. The boy had been crestfallen when Lee had opened up a box of holiday decorations only to find that water had seeped in and wrecked most of them, their stockings included. But once it had been announced that new stockings would be bought, he immediately brightened up, excited by the opportunity to decorate his own stocking and also the possibility of an even bigger stocking than before.
Clementine and Louis shared a knowing smile as they looked back at the boy and then at each other. Louis had been at the house to help the Everetts with decorating for Christmas when the damaged box was discovered. So after the lights had all been strung round the house and the Christmas tree decorated, he’d tagged along with Clementine and A.J. on their quest to get new stockings.
Pulling into the parking lot, Clementine looked towards their neighborhood Target. “Doesn’t look too busy. I think the cold is keeping people away,”
“That and people are probably procrastinating till the last second when it comes to buying gifts,” Louis noted.
Clementine chuckled at the slight tone of judgment within Louis’ voice. He took his gift giving very seriously. All his gifts had been bought back in November, but additional gifts were constantly being added to the pile as he spotted more “perfect” presents that he simply couldn’t pass up. The boy was lucky he came from money, otherwise he’d bankrupt himself each Christmas.
Hopping out of the car, the trio walked hand in hand, A.J. swinging Louis’ and Clementine’s arms back and forth as he scampered along between them. Once they had cleared a patch of ice, Clementine and Louis lifted their arms and swung A.J. back and forth between them, joining his excited laughter with their own. Stepping through the entrance, they all let out a breath of relief as the warmth hit them.
“There’s a shopping cart!” A.J. cried, running forth excitedly and grabbing the first cart he spotted.
“Remember, goofball, we’re just here for the stockings, not anything else,” Clementine cautioned.
“Well, if we see something really awesome then maybe I could pick it up for you…” Louis offered before pausing when he saw Clementine raise an eyebrow. She’d already given him a talk about the half dozen early Christmas presents he’d given A.J. and how he was setting unrealistic expectations for Christmas day. Giving a sheepish grin, Louis clammed up and settled for holding his girlfriend’s hand while she picked up a red shopping basket with the other.
Going down the Christmas aisles at Target, the trio soon reached an aisle that was completely covered with stockings on one side. There were plenty of different pre-made designs that ranged from snowmen to reindeer to snowflakes, but Clementine strode past of all of them and grabbed four blank red stockings.
“Four?” Louis asked curiously.
“Of course. There’s one for you too,”
Louis blushed happily at that, a flustered smile crossing his face.
A.J.’s eyes bugged out at the news. “Does that mean Louis is spending Christmas morning with us so he gets to open his stocking in the morning too?”
Clementine shook her head. “Sorry, kiddo, but I bet Louis wants to spend Christmas with his own family-” she paused when she caught Louis looking at the floor. “Aren’t you?”
“Well, my dad’s gonna be out of the country Christmas day closing a business deal in Japan and my mom’s celebrating Christmas with her husband and Phil so I just mailed them their gifts ahead of time. I usually crash Marlon’s Christmas since his parents don’t mind but he might actually be spending most of the day with Sophie now that they’re dating. And Violet is going on a road trip with Prisha so…”
“Louis, if you want to spend Christmas morning with us, all you have to do is ask,” Clementine said, a smile crossing her lips. “We would love to have you,”
“Really?” Louis’ eyes widened in excitement. I mean if Lee doesn’t mind-”
“He won’t. If anything, he’ll be just as excited as A.J. is,” Clementine glanced down at her little brother who was practically buzzing with excitement.
“Well then, if everybody wants it… I’d love to spend Christmas with you guys,” Louis’ smile grew at his statement.
“Yeah! Louis is coming for Christmas! This is gonna be the best Christmas ever!” A.J. declared, wrapping his arms round Louis’ waist in a tight hug. Louis affectionally patted A.J.’s afro as Clementine looked on happily. It warmed her heart to see how taken A.J. was with Louis.  A few months into their relationship and it already felt like he was part of the family,”
“Well then,” Louis cleared his throat before nodding towards the basket. “Are we ready to check out?”
“We should probably pick up a few other things first. Glitter glue, puff paint, cotton balls, stuff like that,”
“Then away we go to the craft aisle!” Louis pointed his finger dramatically and began to stride off until he paused and looked back. “Do either of you know where the craft aisle is?”
Clementine rolled her eyes good naturedly. “Follow me, you two,”
 ---
About a half hour later they were back home. Lee, who had been busy in the kitchen while they’d been gone, greeted them at the door with a smile, his red apron dusted with flour as well as his hands. “Welcome back, you three. There’s hot cocoa on the table if you want to set up there,”
“Thanks, Lee. Ooh, is that cookies I smell?” Clementine asked, taking off her coat and setting it on the rack by the door.
“Yup. Sugar cookies – your favorite. Dusted them with red and green sprinkles and everything,”
“COOKIES!” A.J. shouted, booking it toward the kitchen.
“Only two to start out with, son, then we’ll see if you can handle more from there!” Lee called. He turned back to the couple with a smile, shaking his head. “That boy’s got me feeling my age. All I want to do is settle down with my hot coca by the tree but here he is tearing through the house like he hasn’t already been doing that all day,”
“He’ll refocus when we get the stocking supplies out. Louis?” Clementine looked back at her boyfriend who held up the bag of supplies.
“Got em right here,”
“Great. We’ll lay everything out on the kitchen table so we can get started while we snack,”
Bringing the supplies into the kitchen, they all worked together to clear off spots for each person to have their own workstation with space for their hot cocoa and plate of cookies as well. After a few minutes dedicated to eating their winter goodies they opened up the supplies and each person began to strategize on how they would decorate their personal stocking.
“I’m doing Disco Broccoli!” A.J. declared loudly, grabbing the red and green puff paint. “But I’m putting him in a Santa suit!”
“That sounds great, kiddo,” Lee replied with a smile. He had taken the brown paint and was beginning to lay it copiously across his stocking. Clementine eyed his choice of color warily.
“What are you making over there. A yule log?”
“Oh, I guess it sort of looks like that now, huh? No, I’m trying to recreate the crossing of the Delaware. Figure it’d be the perfect choice since it happened on Christmas Day. It may be a bit ambitious considering my skills, but I’m sure I’ll get by,”
Clementine shook her head, smiling. Her father’s love of American history really did make its way into every facet of life. Grabbing another tube of red puff paint, she began to write her name neatly atop the border of her stocking. Looking over, she saw that Louis was watching her closely, a tube of green puff paint in his hands. Slowly and delicately, he began to write his own name upon his stocking just as she had done with hers.
“Glad you could join us, Louis,” Lee commented, smiling over at the young man with approval.
“It’s an honor to be here, sir,” Louis replied, a shy smile on his face.
“Just call me Lee, son. You know that by now,”
Louis nodded quickly, his eyes falling back upon his work. It was clear that being around Lee sometimes still overwhelmed him. Clementine figured it was because he felt he had so much to prove. But in her eyes, he’d already proved himself already and she knew that Lee for the most part felt the same way. Clearing her throat, she decided to announce what had been decided on the shopping outing.
“A.J. and I invited Louis to spend Christmas morning with us,”
Louis’ eyes shot over to Clementine’s and then to her father, clearly nervous. But Lee’s reaction made it immediately clear his fear was unfounded.
“That sounds wonderful. There’s always room for another round the Christmas tree. I guess we’ll be keeping your stocking at our house then, right, Louis?”
“Yes, sir. Lee! Yes, Lee,”
Lee smiled encouragingly. “I’m sure our Christmas will be all the merrier with you there,” His approval seemed to set Louis’ mind at ease. The boy’s shoulders relaxed, and he returned to working on his stocking with a calmer focus than he’d had before.
As time progressed their stockings truly started to take form. Clementine was going for a classic look with a Christmas tree upon her stocking. The tree had always been one of her favorite parts of Christmas: picking it out, setting it up, decorating and basking in the glow of the Christmas lights. There had been many years without that after the death of her parents, but Lee had brought back the joy of welcoming in Christmas in full force. The Everetts always went big with their Christmas tree, getting at least an eight footer and decking it out with so many ornaments it was a wonder the branches didn’t collapse under their weight.
“Wow, Clem, that looks awesome!” A.J. commented, his eyes practically sparkling in admiration. His own stocking was smeared with all sorts of paints and spurts of glitter now, but if you squinted you could make out the concept of Disco Broccoli within the chaos.
“Thanks, goofball. Yours is looking really groovy too,” Clementine grinned when A.J. beamed at that description. Thanks to Disco Broccoli, he’d been calling everything he liked “groovy”. Glancing across the table at Lee’s stocking, Clementine tried to stifle a chuckle but only half succeeded.
Lee raised an eyebrow as he heard the sound, smiling over at his daughter. “What? Are you not impressed with my rendition of Crossing the Delaware thus far?” He held up his stocking so they all could see his work, leading to tittering laughter all around.
“It looks like poos with Christmas hats on!” A.J. chortled at the sight.
“Now I don’t think it’s that bad,” Lee protested, glancing back at his work. Sure you can’t really make out who anyone is considering they’re all stick figures and it sorta looks more like they’re floating on a cloud than paddling through the water, but it’s certainly a unique design,”
“Oh, definitely. The Christmas hats were an inspired design choice,” Louis replied, his smile growing when he saw Lee nod in approval at his comment.
“Thank you! I’m glad somebody enjoys my artistic efforts!”
Clementine looked over to see how Louis’ stocking was comparing to all of theirs and her eyes widened in surprise. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but surely not something so… delicate. Louis’ stocking was covered in a myriad of pale blue music notes of all sorts and scattered among them were falling snowflakes done in white glitter puff paint. Each snowflake had a heart at its center, giving an air of romance to the entire design.
Catching Clementine looking at his work, Louis paused in his careful application of another music note, grabbing a cookie and stuffing it in his mouth instead of coming up with something to say.
“I knew I was dating a musician but not an artist to boot,” Clementine commented, pausing in her own work to nab another cookie.
Louis smiled shyly at the praise before a playful smirk emerged. “Yours is looking impressive too, though may I suggest one addition? Instead of the classic star atop the Christmas tree, what if instead you had…” he paused, grabbing an orange pompom and placing it on the stocking, “a clementine?”
Lee chuckled. “That’s a good one, Louis,”
“Yeah, it’s like Clem’s own special tree!” A.J. stated happily.
Clementine rolled her eyes at the unanimous approval but couldn’t keep a smile from showing. “Alright then. If you all insist,”
“Hooray!” Louis leaned forward and placed a quick kiss upon Clementine’s cheek. “I knew you’d recognize my genius someday!”
That one definitely had Clementine rolling her eyes again. She was glad to see Louis truly unwinding and being himself in front of Lee though. The first few times he’d come over he’d been too nervous to even reach for her hand.
---
A little while longer and the stockings were all complete. After accounting for drying time, Lee shook them free of residual glitter then draped them on the bannister. “Quite the stockings we’ve made for ourselves. I think Santa will be proud when he sees them. He turned round to face the others. “Now that that’s done, should we settle in for a movie night? I was thinking it’d be the perfect opportunity to introduce Louis to Muppet Christmas Carol ,”
“That exists?” Louis asked in surprise. “I love the Muppets! I’m game!” He grinned over at Clementine who nodded in agreement.
“I’ve got nothing else planned for the night. A.J.?” She turned to ask her brother but found that he had already run over to the TV and pulled out the treasured DVD.
“It’s Muppet time!” A.J. bounced with excitement as he clutched the movie to his chest.
Grinning in amusement, the others all settled upon the couch to start the film. Clementine rested her head upon Louis’ shoulder as the lights dimmed. It had been a long day. As much as she loved Muppet Christmas Carol , she might just fall asleep on everyone. She stirred though as she felt Louis gently squeeze her hand. She looked over at her boyfriend, smiling softly.
“Thanks for including me today. And inviting me to Christmas,” he whispered.
“Of course. It’s always fun having you over. And…” Clementine paused, biting her lip as her cheeks lightly flushed, “I’m looking forward to Christmas with you,” Even in the darkness of the room she could see Louis’ large grin at her words. Before he could say anything more though, they were both hushed by Lee.
“No more talking you two – the movie’s starting,” Lee watched Muppet Christmas Carol religiously. There would be no chatting or pausing during the film.
Letting out an almost imperceptible sigh, Clementine nuzzled Louis’ shoulder and closed her eyes. It had been a wonderful winter day; she couldn’t wait for Christmas.
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pogaytosalad · 3 years ago
Text
Heres a wip of a sequel.
Dmviolence, by jade
Hello, if youre hearing this, it probably means im dead. Either that, or im alive and just got tired of keeping this hidden. You might remember my voice from a previous recording about a takeover in sector ⬽:➻, in which id helped prevent total annihilation of the sector. At the time i was unnamed, however now you may call me Kalton. After the takeover i resigned and moved to a job at a dmv. This planet was, for some reason, in one of the most tactically advantageous locations in the galaxy. And for some reason the higher ups dedicated the whole damn planet to dmvs. Dont ask why. Now, onto the story.
I woke up, and i put on my emerald green contact lenses. Just like any other day. I put on a basic white t-shirt and a leather bomber jacket along with a pair of jean shorts. If you cant tell by now, im gay.
I live in a small apartment. By small apartment i mean a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen all crammed into 2 rooms. I hopped out the bedroom window onto my motorcycle. It was a diamond white motorcycle with deep red stripes along the sides and the handlebars. My pride and joy. I put on my jet black helmet and took off towards my job at the, you guessed it, dmv.
Chapter 2
I pulled up in the parking lot and took off my helmet, my blue hair a total rats nest. The doors were push doors, yet i somehow ALWAYS pulled first. I entered the dmv and went to my station. A few hours passed by and no one had come in yet, which was unusual. So naturally i decided to sit down on the floor, put in my earbuds, and enjoyed some heavy metal. A few more hours passed by, and usually by now i wouldve been yelled at by my boss. This struck me as odd so i stood up. I really wish i hadnt stood up. The place had been completely destroyed. There were drop pods crashed in through the roof and they all had the ERGON logo on them. Ergon was a multi trillion dollar pencil manufacturing company with its own military. They had previously tried to take over sector ⬽:➻ when i had been working there. I was not looking forwards to what was about to happen.
Quickly, i ducked back onto the floor before anyone saw me. There were 4 riot soldiers holding this building. This was gonna be fun. The riot soldiers are your stereotypical riot gear and police baton soldiers. But these guys had laser batons and the riot gear gave them heightened strength and speed. They also had some, dare I say, shitty energy pistols. I crawled over to one of the soldiers who wasnt being watched and broke their neck. Carefully I took the baton and the pistol. Slowly crawled my way back to my station and checked the shot count in the pistol. I had 6 shots, just enough to take care of the remaining three soldiers. I stood up quickly and shot each soldier twice in the head. First shot to open the riot helmet, second shot to kill. I vaulted over the counter and grabbed the three pistols. These things were so stupid. You couldnt even remove the clips. Once you ran out of shots, the pistol was useless. Nonetheless, i didnt have any choice. I had a laser baton and 18 total shots in 3 pistols.
Upon leaving the building, my motorcycle was one of the few things to survive. It had alot of scratches and damage, but it still worked. The helmet was shattered however. I mounted the motorcycle and took off towards the next closest dmv. Maybe id find some better gear there.
Chapter 3
Pulling up next to the second dmv i immediately noticed 3 things. 1: there was blood everywhere. 2: there were 25 soldiers here. And 3: they all had energy weapons. The reason these things are relevant is because energy weapons dont cause bloodshed. This was the result of something else. Something new i hadnt dealt with yet.
I drove up and ran over 5 of the soldiers. This was probably an incredibly bad idea, seeing as i had 18 shots, enough for 9 kills, and there were 20 soldiers left. Every single soldier turned to me and i, being the absolute genius that i am, welded the front of one of the pistols shut with the laser baton, shot it off, and threw it into thei crowd of soldiers. It exploded, releasing a shockwave of energy and disabling the soldiers. I then used the baton to cut through the riot gear and kill the soldiers. I felt like a badass. That is until a mechanical looking wolf jumped at me and started trying to rip my face off.
The wolf was a frostwolf, except it had been placed into a mechanical frame and its teeth and claws had been replaced with lasers. I tried to bash it off of me with the baton but it just bit it in two. This gave me just enough time to grab an energy pistol and shoot the wolf. It kept trying to kill me amd i wasted a whole clip on it until suddenly, the dog started to levitate in the air and got thrown aside into a wall. I got up and was instantly frozen in place. Thats when.. she walked up.
Chapter 4
The she i am reffering to is ebony. A goth/punk wannabe with light blue tear shaped eyes and black hair with purple streaks. Shes a bitch whos mind got too powerful and now she can move things without touching them. Shes been chasing me for months. Not in a murderous way. Shes just obsessed with me. Ive tried to tell her im gay but she wont listen. And now im at her mercy.
She walked up to me and kissed me on the cheek. I hated it. She looked as if she was contemplating whether or not to free me when a pod came down from the sky and crushed her. Thank god. But i honestly wouldve rathered suffered at her hand than deal with what i had to deal with next...
Out of the pod came the warden. The goddamn warden from sector ⬽:➻. Last id seen him hed been in the same situation as ebony. Crushed to death under a pod. But this time, instead of being on my side, he was here to kill me. He was huge. Like seriously huge. He was at least 8 feet tall and shaped like gaston. Whos gaston? Nobody knows these days. But its basically a way to say "extremely buff and wide". Back to the story. The warden wasnt looking very good, considering the rotten skin, obviously quickly patched together face, and muscles hanging loose out of his skin. His rotting ruined body was held together by an exoskeleton of chromium-tungsten alloy. Nothing i had was gonna cut through that. I was gonna have to get creative here..
The warden had 2 weapons, both of them were his fists. Huge gauntlets that were each about the size of a cow. Definitely bigger than his previous set. They were a golden green metal i couldnt identify. But i didnt want to get hit with one to try and find out. I ran. I ran as fast i could run into the dmv and hid. I could hear the wardens footsteps. It was as if a small earthquake happened each time he took a step.
I peeked over the desk i was hiding behind and saw him punch through the 2 desks opposite to me. It took no effort and i couldve sworn i saw him smile. Obviously i didnt. Cause he didnt have a mouth anymore. But if he did, he definitely wouldve smiled. I took a shot to get his attention and ran off towards the wall. The warden was definitely faster than i expected.
Luckily i managed to dodge the blow by a centimeter. The metal smelled of decaying flesh and popcorn. The wardens blow punched a huge hole in the wall. I hope you see where im going with this.
I ran off to another wall and we repeated this same process a number of times until the building was barely still up. I ran out the doors and threw the baton at the last of the supports, cutting through it and causing the building to collapse in on the warden. He wasnt getting out of that. I decided to search the rubble to see if i could find anything worth taking. I found a new baton, a flame rifle and a few more energy pistols.
The flame rifle was a very interesting design. The sides were painted jet black with flame decals scattered about. You could feel the heat on the inside and it made the gun warm to the touch. Comfortable to hold. Other than that though, it looked like an old fashioned 8.59mm sniper rifle. It had 4 shots remaining, so id have to use it sparingly.
I grabbed some scrap materials out of the rubble to make a holster for it and put it on my back.
The energy pistols just dangled from a keychain. The baton was simply turned off and placed through a hole in the back pockets of my shorts. I ran to my motorcycle and drove off, i needed to find out more. I had questions, and i had a sneaking suspicion that i knew where to find the answers.
I drove off again, i was dirty and there was blood on me and my bike. I probably looked like a serial killer. But i knew that if anyone was still alive, itd be jayden. They were.. well. They were a vampire. They lived in a swampland area and wore sparkly rainbow shirts and a huge sunhat. The sunhat allowed them to go outside in the sun, and they only drank coconut water. They also had a crazy amount of weaponry and used to work at ergon, before being fired for stealing weaponry. By the way, if you havent noticed by now, im using they/them to refer to jayden. Jayden doesnt have a gender. Jayden.. is kind of my crush. It probably has something to do with the fact that theyre the only person on this planet who talks to me. Other than ebony.. but ebony is... not my type i guess. Anyways, back to jayden. Jayden was on the roof of their swamp shack drinking coconut water out of a wine glass. I yelled up at them and they fell off the roof onto my back. I guess i cushioned their fall. Jayden immediately said "What do you need dear" without waiting for me to stand up, and shattered the wine glass. I informed them of the situation and asked the questions i had. Things like "what are the ergon soldiers defences like on their ships" and "how did they reanimate the warden" they had answers.
Jayden told me about the new security measures that had been put in place since id last been on an ergon ship. There was now a code for each teleportation pod and the gaurds had doubled. As for the warden, it turns out jayden was actually the first test run in reanimation sciences, and couldnt answer me because they had been unconcious in a lab when the warden was reanimated. That explained the vampire undead thing. Jayden invited me into the shack where they pulled a nail out of the floorboards and it turned into a ramp to the basement. Down in the basement? Thats where jayden kept their weapons they stole. And boy oh boy were there some interesting ones.
One that immediately caught my attention was the big rocket launcher. It had 3 barrels and each was a different colour, indicating a different effect. One was red, one was yellow, and one was green. The red barrel fired a normal explosive rocket, the yellow barrel fired an electromagnetic pulse rocket, and the green barrel fired an acidic explosive. And the launcher shrunk down to the size of an energy pistol when a button was pressed. It gathered up dirt and dust and garbage around it from the back to quickly convert into ammo but the only downside is that it would be difficult to use more than once in an area.
Jayden picked out an old shotgun. At first i didnt understand why, but then they loaded the clip. The clip was a huge drum that loaded in the bottom of the barrel. The drum was see through and inside you could see sawblades lined up side by side. When they pumped the shotgun a blade got lifted into a slot between the 2 shotgun barrels and started glowing red. When the trigger was pulled, the blade spun at high speeds and fired out of the slot, spinning along the ground like a wheel. It could cut through anything a baton could cut through and seemed to almost follow its target. The gun itself looked like an DP-12, except behind the pump, a large clear drum full of sawblades was in place. The blade sat between the barrels in place of the iron sights and got heated up by an electrical circut.
I also took a laser sword instead of my baton, it was just like the one that [3825968] had, except this one was about an inch longer. The final weapon i took was an acid thrower. It was basically just a watergun with acid in it. Ive always been partial to acidic weapons. If youve heard my other story, youd know why..
Jayden also took a submachine gun that fired freezing rounds. The rounds were essentially glorified waterballoons with liquid nitrogen in them. Though the rounds were bullet sized, enough shots from it would certainly freeze you in place. The freeze gun was about the size of the average human head, and was painted navy blue with blue saphire stripes placed along it. We both left the shack, me with my sword and jayden with a wine glass. We were ready to kick ass and put a stop to this.
We left and immediately both got flung into some trees. Guess who it was. It was ebony. Her body had been found and reanimated. I was starting to see a pattern. And now we had to fight the telekinetic who could kill us with a wave of her hand.
She was levitating. Her eyes were glowing red and her hair was floating in the air. She had a smile of someone about to rip your arms off and beat you with them. I tried to take a shot at her but my hand got knocked aside by an invisible force. So i tried the next best thing. Seduction. Fake seduction. Hopefully the whole dying and coming back from the dead thing didnt make her stop being weirdly obsessed with me.
While i faked surrender and complimented ebony and attempted to seduce her, jayden took aim of their ice gun and shot a burst at ebonys right arm. The arm froze in place and shattered. Hopefully that would lower the strength of her telekinetic abilities. It did. But only by about half. Which meant jayden got thrown into the air as i tried to discreetly unholster my acid gun. It wasnt discreet enough and the gun was knocked from my hand.
The gun flew forwards and the impact of hitting the ground set it off for a second, just enough to spray an acidic burn through her arm. Incapacitating her. Jayden ended up sneaking up behind her and impaling her through the skull with the shattered end of their wine glass. Finally ebony was dead for good.
The acid gun was busted, so we had to leave it behind. We got onto my motorcycle and took off towards my apartment building. We would need food if we were going to be traveling. An apartment complex would probably be full of foods, and alot of dead people who wouldnt care if we took some stuff.
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