#um but yeah anyway. bugs are actually mostly good and even though you’ might be scared of them

[sailorsleepymoon]

Adding on to say that the YouTuber AntsCanada has a really good ongoing series at the moment about a MASSIVE vivarium he built, and a lot of the episodes are centered around the bugs that live in it. He starts putting in arachnophobia warnings about around episode 8 I think, but in general he has such a loving and humanizing way of narrating the activities various bugs that makes it really easy to find them cute, even if you don’t really like bugs. It’s not for everyone, but it’s worth a shot if you want to work on a fear of bugs.

Been working in pest control for 3 months now and i can confidently say that nobody on earth seems to understand that sometimes You Will See A Bugs and that's Normal if you live literally anywhere with oxygen

[suffarustuffaru]

why the emilia camp thinks otto is their most threatening member 👍

i see some people being confused on why the emilia camp collectively seems to agree that otto is the biggest threat there for some reason and like. yeah. i get it.

but let me explain real quick why i think it makes sense for the emilia camp to think that :O !!

otto though is disarming because. well okay look at him he doesnt look threatening at all. he has the looks and personality of a wet cat. hes whiny. hes cringe fail. he gets stressed out with paperwork. he looks like you could just smack him around like a bug. he HAS been smacked around like a bug. but that makes him unpredictable because apart from roswaal, he is the Most Amoral one there. you can expect roswaal to be trying some shit, but youd never know when to expect otto is planning something. his moral compass is just “does this benefit me or my loved ones in some way? if not, then its gonna be gone 🥺”.

sure, he does nice things sometimes out of the goodness of his heart. he genuinely means well a lot of the time.

but also then you read the shit hes thinking in his internal dialogue and its like.

“should i go save some girl i dont even know from bandits??? hmm lemme think for a couple minutes. im the only one that can help rn… some guy claiming to be her dad is begging me to help his daughter, but also hes kind of annoying… but i dont even live in this city so why should i help… or Care. actually. but i feel kinda bad about this girl… but also this is gonna put me and my profits in danger… but if i reject helping then im forever gonna be known as the guy who abandoned them and then i wont be able to make any sales in this city anymore :<<<< ……anyway im gonna help them then lol im so smart.” and then he gets captured by the exact same bandits anyway so hes like “well okay now me and this girl might be sold into slavery so i might as well save both of us or ill feel bad ☝️☝️”

(yes. yes this is genuinely ottos thought process if you read through the Otto's Bittersweet Peddling Log side story.)

except all the back and forth Calculation he does in his head Stays In His Head and doesnt match up with his outward appearance most of the time. which means that sometimes his words dont match up with his actions. “dont be surprised if i leave at the first sign of danger,” he says, right after risking his life and writing a suicide note over a dude hes known for like four days. “ahah thanks for giving me a vacation to see my family…” he says, damn well knowing he cant go back home yet otherwise he’ll get sniped by assassins. “im gonna give you some of my own money bounty money to help you BUT BUT BUT DONT THINK THAT IM NICE OR ANYTHING I NEED MOST OF THE MONEY FOR REPAIRS OK YOU CAN ONLY HAVE A BIT :<<<“

this also means that whenever otto says or does something Particularly Questionable, all his friends are still kinda blindsided by it because otherwise otto seems Mostly Fine in comparison to whatever the hell everyone else has going on. hes just a wet pathetic cat of a guy ahah. theres nothing more going on with h—

“if everyone in vollachia dies but rem and natsuki-san live, then we’ve won. if everyone in vollachia lives but rem and natsuki-san die, then we’ve lost.”

um otto can you repeat that. what the fuck did you just say.

otto looks Mostly Normal, Just Stressed Out or Somewhat Chilling the vast majority of the time, and then he whacks you over the head with a steel chair. like can you imagine being garfiel and learning that this pathetic rag of a man is actually pretty brave when it counts. youre like “oh cool lol we kinda beat each others asses and i was Annoyed but now that thats all over i got some newfound respect for you!!” and then you read through his diary and hes got a suicide note in there, which is like. okay fine whatever hes kind of a clown just like my New Captain lol but hes dedicated to his friends, ill give him that. and then a year later you find your now brother figure (whos also lowkey highkey an alcoholic) with a broken hand after punching a wall because he couldnt do his Lets Abandon 50 Million People Plan and youre just sitting there going

and okay dont get me wrong—subaru is Batshit Crazy. in Multiple Incomprehensible Ways. if the emilia camp (or Anyone. At All.) knew about all the shit hes done and been through with rbd, subaru would INSTANTLY be skyrocketing up the Most Threatening People list. but at the same time subarus less threatening than otto in the sense that subarus Always going to want to do good. hes Always going to want to save everyone. hes Extremely forgiving, on top of that. he goes along picking up friends everywhere he goes in his own Incomprehensible Unhinged Way and hes fond of All of them.

otto? yeah his opinion of you could shift on a dime and you could end up in his personal shit list unless youre one of the *checks list* *clears throat* maybe like ten people he cares about. and even if youre on the I Care About You! :) list, he could still get pissed enough at you to, i dont know, punch a wall over you? and spiral into obsession? and even if hes not upset at you hes still gonna mansplain manipulate malewife his way to his goals <33

and yeah of course subaru is also Mansplain Manipulate and Gaslight Gatekeep but at least he has way more good intentions AND his attitude about it is gonna be like "sorry :<<< i just gotta do this for your sake :<<<<<< :((( haha dont worry about it". subaru would never ever want to do anything big to hurt his loved ones (except for rbd). while otto doesnt even bat an eye. everyone can be manipulated if he has to. he goes down his list of Things I Need To Do and goes "yeah that had to be done. oh well. anyway i got more shit to do (like maybe kill a toddler lol)"

also lets talk about roswaal's perspective really quick. post-arc 4 hes like "well subaru-kun is always gonna want to save everyone and hes doing a pretty good job of things in general so whatever lol. i can still keep him in check by killing everyone if even one of his friends dies :)". so its like. YEAH subarus an Unhinged Wildcard. roswaal knows that. but right now subaru is more predictable and also again, roswaal knows he can keep subaru in check by making subaru have to reset if roswaal really needs to.

but otto? yeah ottos second in line for being an Unhinged Wildcard. but whats even worse is that otto is Basically Subaru but More Calculating and with a moral backbone thats Near Nonexistent. roswaal was genuinely concerned for otto in arc 8 for once and there was still Literally No Stopping Otto from being a stubborn little shit whos hell bent on all the maladjusted insane mentalities hes got floating around in his head, half of which he doesnt even say out loud, and all of which he thinks is Completely Right and that theres Nothing Wrong with what hes doing.

and also otto being underestimated and Not In The Tome was a big help as to how subaru got the win over roswaal in arc 4 👍and then otto Continues to try keeping an eye on roswaal after arc 4, to the point of getting roswaal's tome and actively trying to investigate roswaal's actions, so roswaal is Very Aware that otto is. a bit of a threat. roswaal of course is smarter and more powerful than otto though, but that still doesnt change the fact that otto is still capable of being a threat if roswaal doesnt Also kind of keep an eye on otto back. because roswaal kind of lost to otto already in arc 4!!

but okay, on top of all of this, no one knows the full extent of whats going on with otto, not even roswaal (though he has his Suspicions), and most definitely not subaru yet (whos Still a bit of an otto apologist anyway), and otto is already a bit menacing even without knowing All of that. and the rest of the emilia camp are already a bit more lenient with roswaal (as hes seemingly chilled out after arc 4 + they all need him still). that, and you can easily Expect roswaal post-arc 4 to be suspicious and Probably up to something. you wont know what it is, but you wont Exactly be surprised when it happens.

and also roswaal isnt publicly batshit crazy like otto is. otto of course isnt as Openly Weird as subaru, but otto is still Openly Unhinged and Pathetic. just look at him declaring julius and anastasia, HIS CAMP'S ALLIES, as enemies right to their faces alsdfjlsdjfl.

and with subaru, there is Zero doubt in the emilia camp's minds that subaru wants the best for them and everyone around them.

otto though? yeah he also wants whats best for the camp. he Cares about them, he really does. but hes so obviously Questionable by the time you get to arc 8 to the point where the entire rest of the camp starts eyeing him like this:

theres also the fact that ottos dp allows him to have eyes and ears Everywhere so long as he doesnt overuse it. that paired with his Intelligence, Stubbornness, and Lack of Morals or self-awareness/sometimes guilt/regret over his actions is dangerous. theres a reason why gluttony if subaru decided to flood The Entire Surrounding Area Around Otto. the flood took away the potential army otto couldve made out of the animals and allies otto had in the city, and once you do that, whats otto going to do against someone like shaula? all of ottos power regarding his People Skills and Animal DP was stripped away.

but if that Isnt stripped away... well honestly otto can do whatever the hell he wants the moment he figures out a solid plan to try and get what he wants. his biggest ability at the core of what makes him dangerous is his ability to quite Literally be in the background. so long as hes underestimated, so long as he still has secrets, no ones gonna know the full extent of his bullshit!! you cant stop him if you dont even realize what hes going to do, and hes Good at doing that!!

and if gluttonybaru hadnt taken out otto, subaru would be skyrocketing right to the top of ottos shit list after subaru literally just killed All of ottos (and previously subarus.) loved ones. otto wouldnt stop until he figured out how to destroy subaru. its to the point where im pretty sure if otto had to choose between destroying half the world vs kill gluttonybaru once and for all, otto would certainly choose one of those options in a Heartbeat.

anyway. if youre an emilia camp member, and you see the dude whos in charge of the Vast Majority of the factions political affairs, the guy who you Know is very intelligent and competent and determined when it counts, say shit like "if everyone dies in this entire country i wouldnt even give a single flying fuck as long as our friends get back safe and sound :) it would be such a loss if the entire country lived but our friends didnt :<<<" OF COURSE I WOULD BE LIKE YEAH THAT GUY IS THE MOST DANGEROUS ONE HERE. HE HAS THE SKILLS AND THE MOTIVATION TO BACK UP THAT STATEMENT AND I WONT EVEN KNOW WHEN ITD HAPPEN. he also has the Mental Instability to back that up too, given the amount of times he spends drinking and Raging and Being Terribly Anxious over Every Little Thing.

youll be sweating buckets being wary of otto while ottos casually standing there with his wet cat looks and a knife in your back.

and otto has, for the most part, some of the most normal trauma compared to a bunch of people in this cast (not to discount ottos trauma and pain or anything but its true lajdsfls sorry otto. but also im not sorry because arc 5 was partially on you T^T). he doesnt have rbd, he doesnt have some weird family drama bullshit going on like the astreas or emilias family or the segmunts, he hasnt been erased by gluttony, etc etc. but hes still like this. if you put him in subarus position and gave him rbd, he would get even worse than he already is.

yeah so anyway thats my quick rambley psa about why i think it makes sense that the emilia camp's voted otto as the most threatening one there 👍

but the fact that we (the audience) (or at least some of us!!) keep questioning why the hell the emilia camp thinks otto is the biggest threat there is means that otto's funny silly guy image is. Kind of Working??? just a little bit.

because. granted. of course i think subaru is easily the most threatening person there with both His Flavor of Insanity and rbd. subaru is an eldritch horror in every single way. but at the same time - hes an eldritch horror who thinks friendship is the best magic of all T^TT !!! he FORGIVES PEOPLE WHO'VE KILLED AND TORTURED HIM. hes not threatening in this sense - the fact that hes kind of just way too nice in this sense!!! granted yes, he IS abusing rbd and Terrifying and Threatening in a multitude of ways, but i'd rather take my chances with mainbaru over main otto right now HAH T^TT at least subaru will apologize and start bawling his eyes out if he stabs some random innocent civilian and stranger in the gut for Some Necessary Reason!! otto would feel a bit bad and then completely Eradicate that feeling of guilt with "i had to do it. it was them or me so no regrets <3".

because otto..................... yeah otto is the Worlds Most Pathetic Yandere to his whole camp.

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Nine. Minecraft Dating 101

warnings: swearing, mostly super freaking fluffy but some oopsies at the end (which is the barely-there angst that i mentioned before!!), pet names?? if that bothers you??? (like...... one or both of them might use baby.........) word count: 5.3k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: HEHEH SORRY ITS SO LONG SORRY hope you guys like it!!!! hope it lives up to your standards of minecraft dates lol also thank you guys all for all your suggestions!!! i loved all of them so much!!!! i would have added every idea except this was already 5k words so its much less “flirting” and more so “oh gosh im so nervous what am i supposed to do” from both of them so hehe i think thats more endearing anyway

**********

The familiar sound of a FaceTime call connecting rang in Y/n's ears and she held her phone up to her face. "Hi, Karl," she sighed.

"Y/N!!" he said with a cackle. "ARE YOU READY FOR YOUR DATE?!"

"Shut up, I'm doing this for you."

"I already gave you the tour though so really you could back out. You're choosing to stay." His voice was teasing and giddy. "Why's that, hmm?"

Heat rose instantly to Y/n's face. "Because I'm a woman of my word?"

"OkaAaAyy," he sang. "Or because you liiiiikeee himmm."

"Shhhut up, Karl. No, I don't."

"Suuuure."

"Is this why you called me?"

He giggled. "Yeah, but—"

Y/n disconnected the call and set her phone down with a small laugh and a shake of her head.

With her stream started and her chat greeted, the donation limit raised to $100 (both because she didn't want to be flooded with questions on the date and because she didn't want people to donate their hard-earned money), Y/n logged onto Dream's SMP and found the voice call Dream was in, George's name right under his.

After she clicked it to join, a small gasp emitted from her headphones before she heard Dream mutter something. "Get out, get out, leave."

George's voice was normal. "But I wanna—"

"GEORGE!" Dream yelled, making Y/n giggle.

"Fine!" George yelled back. "Have fun you two," he sang like Karl did before a sound from Discord told them that he left.

It was silent for a second before, "Hi."

"Hi." She giggled. "What was that about?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just some last minute, uh, setting up."

She hummed, amused at the sound of his frantic voice.

"So, um... are you ready for our date?"

"I don't even know where you are. I'm still in my house."

"Knock, knock," he said with a laugh. Y/n turned to see green peeking through the cutouts on her oak door and she laughed.

She ran to the door and opened it for him, revealing Dream in a slightly altered version of his Minecraft skin. He looked the same, except the white blob appeared to be wearing a necktie of some sort. "You look ridiculous," she admitted with a smile. "Wait, is this a fancy date? Should I change my skin?"

"It's not fancy, I just wanted to look my best for the prettiest girl in the world."

"Ohmygosh," she muttered to herself, hoping that writing off his charming words and actions as annoying would make her face not heat up as much. So far, it hadn't worked. Two minutes in and she was already blushing like a schoolgirl whose crush asked her to play tag at recess. "So, I'm not underdressed?"

"No, you're always perfect."

She didn't comment, opting for an eye-roll instead. Truthfully, she wanted to flirt back with him, try to make his heart beat fast like hers already was, but she was worried her words wouldn't come off joking and that the true intention would be obvious, that he'd be able to breeze right past the jovial tone and hear the sincerity in her words. Wait, true intention? What was her true intention? Her true intention should obviously be to just joke around and have some fun, but deep down she knew the motivation for teasing him came from somewhere different, somewhere more meaningful.

She wanted to tease him because she wanted to be the one to make him blush, to make him trip over his words and not know what to do with his hands.

Why? Well, she was still figuring that out.

"If you're ready, follow me, ma'am."

"Where are you taking me?" she asked as she followed his character down prime path.

"Hmmm..." he mused. "A secret, obviously."

"Obviously," she scoffed. She noticed that he was several blocks ahead of her and she smiled to herself. "Hey, Dream?"

"Hm?" he asked, spinning to face her as he ran backward.

"I don't know how many dates you've been on, but usually people walk together. You know, gives them an excuse to maybe hold hands or at least enjoy each other's company?" She made sure her voice had just the right balance of teasing and seriousness, curious as to how he would respond.

"I, uh... oh."

"Unless you want me to just meet you there. I mean, you're practically running away from me."

"I'm just excited!" he excused, stopping briefly so she could catch up with him.

"But look at how many beautiful things there around us to look at while we get to where we're going!" she told him. "Well, maybe not that," she said with a laugh as she punched her fist towards Tommy's dirt house. "But other things."

Dream laughed and continued to walk next to her like she requested, pausing if he ever got too far ahead. "How can I look at all those when the most beautiful thing is walking right next to me?"

She's never rolled her eyes so hard in her life. "Shut up," she mumbled as she punched him.

"OW! BUG!"

"That was supposed to be a pat on the arm but Minecraft only has one level of hitting and it's a punch. Sorry."

Dream wheezed briefly before containing his laughter. "This way," he instructed, getting off the path and starting into the woods.

"Oh, really you're trying to kill me. That's why you didn't want me to wear anything nice. Didn't want me to ruin any of my fancy stuff."

"Foiled my plans," he joked lightly. "Okay but really, um, I was thinking—well, so you already have a house but I was thinking we could build one together. Or build something, I don't know. But you're really good at building and I know you really enjoy it so I thought maybe you could show—like, teach me and then later I'll teach you something and then we can have a little picnic dinner."

Y/n smiled at her nervousness. "Hey, that actually sounds really fun!"

"What? What do you mean actually?" He laughed. "What, did you expect me to plan something boring?"

She laughed over his dramatic pouting. "No, but I mean, I didn't know what to expect," she said shyly. "I do have to say, though, I'm not sure what you plan on teaching me. I'm pretty much a master at all possible Minecraft skills, so..."

"Oh, really?" he taunted. "Everything?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her confidence wavering at his smooth voice.

"We'll see about that..."

"Unless you mean you're gonna teach me how to code Minecraft. That's a Minecraft skill I will admit I know nothing about."

"No, no, nothing like that," he said with a laugh.

"Good, save the programming talk for later."

"For laaater, hmmm?" he sang flirtatiously.

"Oh my gosh," she said through a laugh. "You would think that's what I meant."

"Hey, you're the one that said you think it's cute when I talk about coding. Maybe you're into that."

"I was saying it's sweet hearing you talk about stuff you like, you nerd. Why did you immediately think—what, is your idea of dirty talk talking about... like... computer viruses?"

"WhAT?"

"Hey girl, lemme clean out your motherboard," she mocked in a deep voice. "You overclock my processor. Lemme program your, uh—uh...hAHA, nevermind, ew, no."

"BUG?! WHAAAT? What is wrong with you?" His gasps for breath between wheezes made her laugh with him. "Don't ever talk like that again, pleASE."

"I won't, I won't, I'm sorry. Oh my gosh."

"Is that your idea of flirting? You are bad!"

"No, no, no!" She laughed. "I was making fun of you. No, I'm actually really good."

She couldn't stop giggling to herself for a few minutes, embarrassed but also proud of the reaction she got from Dream. She loved hearing him laugh as if he would never stop, it made her heart so happy to hear, especially when she was the one who caused it.

Though she feared her horrible pickup lines, if you could even call them that, were already clipped, ready to be used against her for the rest of her life. Worth it. Probably.

They approached a cleared-out area in the woods and Dream stopped and turned to Y/n. "So, we're here. What should we build?"

"Oh, so now I have to plan? Wow, you are so underprepared," she joked.

"What, no! I originally... I wanted to build a, like, a house together because I didn't— I forgot you made your—your house already and—but since you already have one—"

"We can still build a house," she interrupted with a soft voice. Him fumbling over his words was very endearing but also very confusing. How serious was he taking this bit? Or was he... actually nervous? She was actually nervous but she had reasons to be: a huge live audience to entertain and not ignore, and the weird staticky, itchy feeling in her tummy every time Dream spoke to her. Both valid reasons to be nervous. What was his excuse?

"Really? You wanna build a home together?"

Heat rose to her cheeks at his wording and she hummed. "Mhm. You can be my secret lover I hide in my vacation home. Like a second life kinda deal."

He scoffed. "Oh, now I'm just your side piece, Bug?"

"Nah, you're my main bitch, baby. I just wanna hide you away to keep you for myself because I'm selfish."

There was silence on his end for a few moments, making Y/n's face practically catch fire as she thought about her words. Why did she say that?? How can he flirt all the time but as soon as she says something: dead silence.

"Well.... shhhhhit," he finally mumbled definitively.

"You wanted me to flirt with you, Dream. You literally asked me too!" She laughed, trying to cover up her embarrassment. It had been less than 20 minutes and she already made a fool of herself.

"I did, I did, I just—wow. Come on, that was... I didn't expect you to go from never flirting to calling me baby!"

"Too much?" she bit her lip as she waited for him to explain if it was a good or bad thing.

He paused again. "....no."

She laughed loudly, pulling her hoodie collar up to her face in an attempt to rid herself of the giddiness and heat on her face. Like anyone could see anyway.

"So, a house?"

"A house."

"What kind of house do you think we should build together, Dream?"

"Maybe...." he thought as he ran around the area. "Maybe, like, a log cabin? Since we're in a forest. It's fitting..."

"Very true, very true..." she thought. "I was thinking a castle was more suited for you, king, but a cabin works too."

"Bug!" he yelled, laughter bubbling up in his voice. "What is wrong with you?"

"What?" she said defensively, giggling.

"You're a handful today," he groaned under his breath and she smiled. Though his words said one thing, Y/n could tell he was enjoying her energy.

"So, a dinky, old cabin, or what?"

"Whatever you want to build," he sighed.

"You always this agreeable?"

"Only to you."

"Well, I honestly don't have much practice with building cabins and since I want to show off my skills, I mean, that's the whole point of this, right? For me to impress you with my skills?"

Dream laughed so she continued.

"I think we should build a treehouse."

"A treehouse?"

"Mhm. What do you think? I make a pretty bomb treehouse."

"That sounds awesome!" he agreed. "Oh, and it could go from, like, one tree to another and, like, connect with a bridge! Like, the living room on one and the bedroom on another."

"Yeah, exactly! Okay, it's settled."

"What do we need? What do you want me to do?"

"I'm thinking.... we use cobblestone?"

Dead silent. Literally no noise until a few moments later, ".......Bug. This might be a deal-breaker."

"I'm joooking! You think I'd build something out of cobblestone? Who am I, Tommy? No, what's your favorite wood?"

"Dark oak."

"GOOD. Me too. So.... we need dark oak. Or, wait! Okay, hear me out."

"I'm hearing..." Dream prompted as he pressed A and D on his keyboard back and forth, earning a giggle from Y/n. He character was bouncing left and right is excitement.

"Dark oak planks..." she started.

"Mhm."

"Stone bricks..."

"Go on."

"And green wool for accents."

"Well, now you're just pandering."

"No!" she laughed. "Not, like, lime wool. Green wool. It's close to you but not as... obnoxiously blinding."

"I trust your vision. I'll go get materials."

"Perfect, you're the best, Dweam."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled before laughing. "You pick out a tree you think would be best for the main part."

40 minutes later, they were nowhere near being done. Y/n had shown him how to make a good house layout after he placed the floor in the shape of a square. She had yelled at him for it first, of course. They also had the frame of the walls and one bridge but nothing on the other side of said bridge. Not wanting the stream to last six hours since this was only the first part of the date, Y/n made a suggestion.

"What if...."

"What if what?" Dream asked, pausing to look at her character, who had stopped fixing his mistakes. "Did I mess something up?"

"No, I was just thinking. What if we make this the whole house and do a little garden on the other side of the bridge? Or like a little cute thing."

"A little cute thing?" Dream laughed.

"You know, like a thing," she said, knowing she hadn't clarified anything. "I forgot this is only date one, you can't read my mind yet."

"Oh, so there are gonna be future dates? I thought this was just to pay off your debt?"

She paused, playing with her hoodie strings between her left hand. "Well, I guess we'll see."

Dream laughed. "So, what little cute thing did you want to make?"

"We could put a bench facing the sunset and have some potted flowers and hang lanterns and stuff."

"Oh, like a romantic spot?"

"I guess if you wanna think of it like that."

"Sounds cute," he said. "So, we have to change the layout in here then?"

"Nah, I mean, we can just not add a kitchen, we obviously don't need one anyway."

"True. Then all we need is to put our bed down, right?"

"Beds," Y/n corrected.

"Well, when they're together it looks like one big bed."

"Who said we're putting out beds together?"

"Buuuuggg..." he whined. "Come on... lemme put my bed next to yours."

She giggled again. What was with all the giggling, sheesh. "No. There's plenty of space, put it somewhere else." She placed her white bed down in the corner and went across the bridge to bring her idea to life, or, to Minecraft.

It only took about ten minutes and she finished when Dream spoke again. "I think I'm done."

"I am too! Let's take one final look around." She went back inside and immediately noticed his bed right next to hers. She stared at his character and he laughed.

"Whaaat?" he asked shyly and she just sighed, letting it happen. They took a look around and agreed that it was basically the best treehouse in the entire universe, both in Minecraft and real life.

"Bug, you're so good at building," Dream complimented as he ran around the house. "What's your favorite part?"

"Ummm...." She looked around before deciding on the bridge. "I like how you made the bridge. And I like the little touches you added to it. It's nice."

"Thanks! I think the 'little cute thing' you did is the best part."

"Shut up, I can't stand you," she scoffed. "But thanks."

"Hey, Bug?" Dream asked, leading her back into the house. He faced the two beds placed together and she prepared herself for the worst joke of all time. "Is this where all the programming talk happens?"

"I knew it! I knew you were gonna say that! Shut up!" She punched Dream as he laughed loudly and she couldn't stop smiling. "You're such a nerd. You're so annoying."

"OH! I have an idea, wait here."

***

It had been a solid eight and a half minutes of Y/n waiting for Dream and he showed no signs of returning. He was silent too, so she resorted to saying random things to get him to crack.

"When will my husband return from war?" she joked, her voice laced with sadness and longing.

There was a small suppressed laugh from his mic, but still no words.

"Sometimes I think I can still hear him laughing at me."

He must have gotten reeeaaalll close to his mic, because his next words, the first ones he had spoken in almost ten minutes, were whispered but she felt like he was in her ear. "I'll be home soon, baby."

Once again, she was so glad her chat couldn't see her because she literally shivered and her face was so warm she felt like she was glowing.

For the first time all stream, her eyes betrayed her and she looked at her chat as she pulled her hoodie collar up to her face.

user18: BUGSY BEIN REEEAL QUIET

user4: i think i just passed out

user11: wHAT ON EARTH DREAM ADKXKH

user7: BUGSY ON GOD BE REAL WITH US WTF IS GOING ON RN

user2: hey bestie i cant do this rn

user9: they can't talk to each other like that and say they're just friends pleASE

Also for the first time all stream, someone dared to donate at her limit (which, again, was ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS).

karakatara donated $100 I had to donate bc I just HAD to tell you how cute you and dream are! honestly my favorite couple ever and I was just wondering how long you've been dating??? love you and your videos!!!!!

It was $100. She had to answer it. Meaning, she had to use words after Dream said that like that and she wasn't sure that was physically possible right now.

"Aren't you going to answer?" Dream taunted.

"Wha—what, are you—you stream watching, you weirdo?" she forced out. "Why?"

"I wanted to read your chat, they're really funny."

"I haven't been reading it."

"What, why? They've been so funny this whole time."

"I've been too scared to."

"Too scared? Of what?"

Of the jokes that she wanted to be real? Of seeing something so cute only to break her heart when she remembers it's all a joke? Of seeing someone hate her for being so close to Dream? Many things.

"Of seeing something... that boosts your ego."

"What? Oh, come on. Hey, answer the dono. Someone gave you their hard earned money for that."

"Yeah, wait, chat, I had the limit that high so you DON'T donate! Why on earth would you—"

"You're avoiding the question."

"We aren't actually dating! Not actually a couple!" she said with a laugh, though something in her heart was very much against laughing at that fact. "Obviously not."

"Well, it's only the first date, so, we'll see I guess, but..."

"I cannot stand you. Thank you so much for the dono, though, Karakatara. You're insane for... yeah. Thank you so much." She turned her attention back to Dream. "Actually though are you ever coming back?"

"Yeah, what, I'm almost there. I see the you staring out the window. ."

When he got inside, he dropped a blue cornflower for Y/n and stepped back. "Okay, now, give that to me."

She followed, not understanding. "For you, Dream." She dropped the flower.

"Aw, Bug! That's so kind! Aw! Thank you! Here's a flower for you, too!" He dropped her a red poppy and then put two item frames on the wall above their beds. He put the blue cornflower above his bed and she followed by putting the red one above hers. "Now that's my favorite part of the house."

"You didn't want to use the real ones? What, did you lose my flower or something?"

"Hell no!" he defended loudly. "No, I just don't want someone to steal that one. It's in my enderchest for safe-keeping."

He said it so casually like it was no big deal, but her heart soared. She too had his flower in her enderchest.

"This," she said dramatically with a sigh, "is now a treehome."

***

"I already told you I'm the best PVP player out there."

"Bug, honey, I've seen you play Bedwars. You're trash."

"Hey!" Hehe, honey. Shut up brain.

"But that's okay! I'm here to teach you."

Y/n's character stood across a makeshift battlefield from Dream's, an axe in hand and armor that was definitely donated by DreamXD on her body. "This is kinda sexist of you. Assuming I know how to name a cute house but not fight."

"Oh no, that's not—crap. Bug, I'm only basing this off of your streams, which I watch all the time—"

Once again, he said something so casual and yet it still made her heart skip three beats and once again, she grabbed the collar of her hoodie and pulled it up to hide her face. This thing had to be stretched by now from how often it was yanked on in this stream alone.

"—and don't get me wrong, you're great! But you're also good at a lot of stuff and—"

"Dream!" she giggled out. "I'm teasing. I admit you're much better than me."

"I wouldn't say much better but... it's the only thing I could possibly teach you anything about because you're just so good at Minecraft." His tone was sarcastic at this point but she knew he was meaning what he said.

"Whatever. Come on, Dream, show me how it's done."

He actually had a lot of very useful tips that Y/n otherwise would have never thought about. I guess when you tryhard Minecraft, she thought, you learn a thing or two about pvp. It was a complete joke, but she still kept it to herself.

"I could basically beat anyone now," she said confidently.

"Yeah, basically. Except maybe Technoblade."

"Nah, even him."

"Let's see how good you really are. To the death."

"What?" She laughed. "You're gonna try to kill me on our date?"

"Yeah, scared?" Seconds later, a creeper exploded near Dream and he screeched, jumping back. Y/n lost it. She laughed loudly, clutching her stomach.

"Dr-Dream!" She laughed. "What the hell was that?"

"It scared me!" he argued. "Here, I'll protect you," he offered, running past her and killing a skeleton that was shooting towards her.

"I don't need protecting, especially from you! Besides, if you're trying to kill me, you'd let the mobs get me."

"No," he decided. "No one's allowed to kill my Bug."

She was literally going to explode. "Wh—"

"Only I get to."

"Dream!" she scoffed, running to kill the skeleton first. She succeeded and he pouted.

"Hey—I did more damage than you, you just had the final hit."

"Really? Cause to me it looks like I'm your knight in shining armor."

"Nuh-uh," he spat.

"Dream. F5 right now, you're covered in arrows."

There was a pause. "Oh whatever." He hit her once and that's all it took for them to start fighting, throwing jokes and taunts at each other the whole time, eventually resulting in a satisfying win for her.

Dream was slain by Bugsy

"WHAT?! HOW?"

<Tubbo> i thogt you were on a date <Ranboo> well definitley not anymore <Ranboo> is that canon <JackManifoldTV> WOMEN

"What was that about you being better than me?" Y/n teased.

"Oh, come ON! I still had damage from the skeleton, and besides, I taught you everything you know!"

"That just makes you a very good teacher, Dream," she said sincerely and he paused, probably expecting her to insult him instead of compliment him.

"Yeah, suck up now that you've murdered me."

***

They were finally at their final stop, three hours into the stream. Not too bad on time, though this was probably the longest Minecraft date in the history of Minecraft dates. Also the best, but maybe Y/n was biased.

There was a huge tree, obviously built instead of naturally generated, with lanterns hanging down and lighting areas of the dark world around them. Under that was a checkered pattern of carpet, a single chest in the center with a potted plant sitting next to it.

"The carpet is supposed to look like a, uh, what's it called... picnic blanket?" Dream explained as they approached the scene, clearly not happy with how it turned out. "It looks weird. Nothing compared to the treehouse you built."

"We built," she corrected. "And this looks awesome, Dream," Y/n complimented. "It's is also my favorite colors."

"Yeah, I had some help from Karl on that one."

She leaned back in her chair in real life and pressed her hands to her face. Oh, it was so unfair how cute he was when he was shy like this. She glanced at chat, which only made her face go from the temperature of molten lava to basically the sun. She was going to explode.

She hummed, a little giggle coming out as well. "That's cute."

She sat (crouched) on the picnic blanket (piece of carpet) while Dream put a disc in the jukebox off to the side.

"Is that a Tommy disc?" she giggled and Dream laughed.

"No, no, no, don't worry. There shouldn't be any continuations of wars interrupting our date."

"Shouldn't be," she emphasized, noticing someone approaching them from the distance.

Dream was about to speak when Quackity reached them and quickly joined the voice channel.

"Oh no," Dream sighed. "We've come so far."

"AYYEEE WHAT'S GOING ON, MAN?!" Quackity yelled in his Mexican Dream voice, his voice bubbling with laughter. "IS THIS A DATE OR SOMETHING, MAN?"

"Quackity, go AWAY!" Dream ordered, punching the character who had stripped to his underwear. "YOU'RE INDECENT! THERE IS A LADY HERE!"

Y/n laughed, enjoying the scene of fancy Dream hitting naked Quackity away from their picnic dinner.

"I'm your waiter, I'm your waiter!" Quackity said in his normal voice, still laughing. "DREAM! WILL YOU STO— QUIT HITTING ME!"

This had turned chaotic very quickly.

"We don't need a waiter," Dream informed him.

"Then I'm the singing gram you ordered." He started singing a song and Dream groaned. "HEY THERE DELILAH WHAT'S IT LIKE IN NEW YORK CITY—"

"No! You're being a clout chaser, go away!"

"I'm honestly impressed we made it this far without anyone coming into the voice channel," Y/n admitted.

"I paid them," Dream joked.

"You did not!" Karl's voice suddenly came through and Y/n laughed. "We were all just being polite and staying away but we're getting bored! We've been so patient!"

"Yeah, hurry up! We wanna play!!!" Sapnap whined. "Dream, it's not fair for you to steal Bugsy from us for so long."

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed with a laugh as Dream laughed along.

"Just ten minutes! Ten more minutes!" Dream bargained but none of them would have it. "Just so I can say goodbye!"

"No!" George insisted. "Right now!"

"Look, wait, wait, hold on—"

<Sapnap joined the game> <GeorgeNotFound joined the game> <KarlJacobs joined the game>

"—hold ON!" Dream begged, watching as the three boys ran and joined Quackity by the picnic blanket.

Y/n could not stop laughing at all the avatars around them. The date had been so peaceful and cute but all good things must come to a chaotic end.

"Wait, come on, Karl, Karl, Karl," Dream said quickly. "Come here. Bug, just a sec, please. Stay right there."

"Okay," she agreed, curious to see his plan.

Karl followed him and of course Sapnap couldn't help but also join them.

"Okay," Dream whispered loudly, clearly wanting everyone to hear his offer. He crouched and the other two copied. "Just give me ten minutes—"

"Ten?" Sapnap asked loudly.

"Shhh!!! Yes, ten minutes, to say goodbye and, you know, end the date."

There was a long, thick pause. "What exactly are your intentions with Bugsy Games," Karl asked seriously, matching Dream's whisper.

"Well, I wanna make sure she gets home safe, you know, so I'm gonna drop her off and, I don't know, see if maybe.... maybe she'll give me a hug?"

Karl and Sapnap both gasped dramatically and Y/n giggled, sparing a glance at her chat who were all freaking out.

"What the hell?" Quackity said while laughing. He and George were still standing near Y/n so they were just watching the goons with her.

"Bugsy is not that kind of girl!" Sapnap protested. "You think she's just gonna give you a hug?"

"Sapnap! Do you not know how to whisper???"

George let a loud laugh slip before slapping his hand over his mouth, which his mic picked up.

"Okay, Dream, wait, so you're gonna try to... hug her?" Karl clarified. "She won't even let me hug her. Good luck."

"Well, I'm not going to force her into anything but, I don't know, she said something about holding my hand earlier so I just thought maybe there's a possibility—"

"WHAT?" Karl yelled before going back to the whisper. "Okay, okay, don't panic, but that's huge. Dadnap, a word?"

He and Sapnap broke off from Dream and formed their own huddle, except their whispers were incoherent mumblings that weren't even English.

"Oh my gosh," Y/n groaned loudly, an unmistakable laugh behind her words.

"Okay," Sapnap said, rejoining Dream. "We'll give you five minutes but if you take any longer, we're barging in and killing you."

"Yes, sir!" Dream said. "Thank you, sirs."

"Mhm. Okay, break!"

They all uncrouched in sync before Dream ran back to Y/n.

"How did it go?" she asked as if she didn't hear the entire conversation.

"Bad news," he started. "Your dad's want you home."

"Shame, I was quite enjoying my time."

Dream slowly turned towards the boys as if to glare at them for ending the date before turning back to her. "Then, maybe, I don't know, we could do this again sometime?"

"I.... think I'd like that," she said slowly, trying to tease him.

He giggled and told her he was going to drop her off at her house, even though when the date was over, they were all probably gonna mess around together anyway so there was no point in them leaving the group. But it was the thought that counted.

He ended up taking her back to the treehouse, which warmed her heart. She also noticed when they faced each other at front of the door, she could see the four other boys watching them.

"Goodnight, my sweet Bug," he said poshly.

"Goodnight, Dream." He turned away but she stopped him. "Wait!" She moved to his side and made a loud, MUAH, sound before stepping back in front of him. "A kiss on the cheek," she clarified, not wanting him to think she gave him a real kiss.

"Cute," he said under his breath, almost like he didn't mean to say it out loud. "Night night." He turned away and ran down to the others, screaming the whole way. "GUYS, DID YOU SEE THAT? BUG GAVE ME A KISS ON THE CHEEK!! OMG DID YOU SEE, DID YOU SEE?"

Chat was gonna have a field day with that. Actually, with a lot of things that had happened. Oh, she could see the clips and edits now.... oh boy.

**********

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[whatifyoulivelikethat]

a kiss from the moon | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: All these years, all these summers, Jeon Jungkook has loved you. His problem? You have no idea. Mostly because he has always said it far too platonically and thrown up in your lap after saying it. Drunk. Fuck. Oh, yeah, and you're also Park Jimin's best friend since preschool. Shit.

warnings: language; alcohol consumption; pining; JK gets distracted by (your) tits during his quest, typical; non-idol!BTS - purple-haired!Jungkook x sleepy af, noona!reader, ft Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung radiating big soulmate energy; childhood friends-to-lovers

yes, it's JK from the 'Butter' beach photos

--

“I love you!”

You lifted your head out of the mountain of pillows, groggy and hazy, squinting at the moonlight filtering through the floating curtains. The night breeze was warm, drifting in softly with the low hum of cicadas. But what was that other sound? That other sound was familiar, wasn’t it?

You heard your name being shouted, followed by, “Wake up!”

You made a face and stumbled out of the bed, sticking your head out of your bedroom window, your own hair flying back and smacking you in the face.

“Yah! Jeon Jungkook, are you trying to wake up the whole damn neighborhood?!”

“Get down here!”

You put on your best disgruntled expression and peered down at the form on your front lawn, shoving your own hair aside.

“What are you going on about?” you muttered, seeing Jeon Jungkook looking up at you, puffing his cheeks, long wet purple hair fading to gray because of the chlorine from swimming all night at that party Park Jimin had invited you to earlier today, to which you had responded, no thanks, I’m going to sleep all day, I worked three double shifts in a row and I have zero desire to be flung into your family’s swimming pool at this time, but I will acknowledge that your offer is very generous, and then promptly passing out for a good – you glanced at your phone with the pink bunny case Jungkook had given you two summers ago – ten hours and it was still not enough for you to comprehend why your best friend’s best friend was standing on your front lawn yelling at your parents’ house that you were watching for a month while they were in Italy getting drunk on far too expensive wine and eating cheese they probably couldn’t pronounce.

Jungkook was shirtless, clad only in orange swim shorts and sandals like a fucking hooligan. He was clutching a plastic red Solo cup and he threw it at the house, yelling your name again.

“Oh my fucking God, don’t litter, you idiot!” you bellowed back, throwing yourself away from the windowsill and crawling on the floor to your bedroom door like the evolution of mankind, making it from all fours to two legs by the time you got to the stairs – good thing too, you might have broken your neck if you were still disoriented – and you dragged yourself downstairs, yanking your white slip dress straight. Not your choice of pajamas. Your mom’s, who told you to be more ladylike, whatever the fuck that meant, and who also informed you in the same breath that it was your only choice of pajamas since they donated all your clothes from high school.

Awesome.

You go to university and your parents yeet all evidence that they had a child and go vacationing.

Good for them.

You wrenched your front door open and shoved your feet into your dad’s giant brown sandals and clapped your way over to the pink-faced, mildly drunk, shirtless man in swimming trunks on your front lawn.

“It’s two in the morning. Why are you standing here drunk and professing your love like some kind of deranged Romeo?” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “Why aren’t you at Jimin’s?” You spied the red Solo cup and picked it up, whipping your head back to Jeon Jungkook.

He was staring at you with his mouth open.

Charming.

He didn’t say anything for a good ten seconds.

“Alright, fine, let me call my loser of a best friend and tell him to pick up his loser of a best friend, so I can go back to sleep,” you muttered, about to turn around.

Jungkook seemed to sputter back to life. “Wait, um, noona–”

“He speaks! He’s not dead.”

“A… Ah… Um…”

You squinted at him and reached up to knock the side of his head. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

Jungkook blurted out, “I love you.”

His breath smelled a lot like alcohol.

“Yeah, I got that. You also said that when I got you through your Chemistry and World History exams. Both times. You also say that to like, what, six of your guy friends? Don’t get me started on the amount of times you’ve said it and thrown up in my lap right after. Don’t do that this time,” you added sternly, prodding at his chest. “I’ve got one set of pajamas because my mom forgets that human beings change clothes, so throw up on the grass.”

“Uh… that’s pajamas…?”

“Lady pajamas,” you grumbled sarcastically, lifting the lid and chucking the crumpled Solo cup into your parents’ trash can. “Since I’m not lady enough apparently according to my mom, even though I’m ninety-nine percent sure giant band t-shirts are completely unisex but, whatever, it’s just a dress, not a big deal.”

“Um.”

You looked at Jungkook, who looked back at you, who put your hands up and gestured him to say something, who in response rose his hands and flapped them in confusion, giving you absolutely zero helpful communication. The movement reminded you he had gotten his right arm and hand tattooed in the last couple years, the black ink standing out against tan skin. You hadn’t seen him too many times during your university years, too busy completing research papers and staying late nights in laboratories, only to now end up working on hospital software and sitting on your ass all day. Life, eh? These past three days were spent on working through bugs for the next software update and you had maybe lost all social skills as you attempted to unravel lines of code that you stared at for forty-eight out of the past seventy-two hours.

Fun!

“Do you need a cookie? A shower? The Bible?” you offered, waving your hands. “Maybe tell me why you’re here, yes?”

He was staring and you realized you were slightly bent over in your gesture, your breasts firmly pressed into the cups of the slip dress. You straightened and Jungkook’s wide dark brown eyes went back to your face.

“I… I didn’t realize you had come back, noona.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I told Jimin last week. He said he was hanging out with you and Taehyung. I figured he’d just tell you guys then.”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, gray-purple hair flying about. He pointed to the left, where Jimin’s house was several blocks over. “He only mentioned it just now, when he was throwing up in the bathroom from doing eight shots in a row because Taehyungie dared him.”

“…. Maybe he needs the Bible…” you muttered, shaking your head.

Then the realization hit you.

“Did you walk here from Jimin’s and straight up abandon the party?”

Jungkook tilted his head and thought about it. “Yeah.”

You looked around to find the camera and see if you were being pranked, but there was no camera because this life wasn’t purely for entertainment, right? Nah, this wasn’t The Matrix.

Mhm.

“Hah, well, what’s wrong? Are you upset I didn’t go to the party or something? I had three double-shifts this week, I wasn’t going to be any fun passed out before actually drinking–”

“Yoongi-hyung was passed out before drinking.”

“In some ways, I swear that guy and I are the same person,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t go and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I really banked on Jimin not being an airhead, but once again he is, so maybe I should reconsider him as my best friend…”

“Noona, I…”

You looked up from your mental consideration of Park Jimin’s pros and cons, the first pro being he punched that ex of yours that cheated on you with some Tinder hookup and that was already enough to stop contemplating, so you blinked at Jungkook curiously, looking into wide brown eyes, long strands of ash-purple floating around his handsome face from the night breeze, brushing against his parted lips, highlighting the mole underneath them, placed perfectly in the center like a kiss from the moon itself.

“Can I take a shower and sleep it off here?”

You tilted your head. “Yeah, sure. You can borrow my dad’s clothes. You should call Jimin though. You don’t want him to panic that he lost you.”

“Y… Yeah, okay…”

-

Jeon Jungkook really thought he could say it this time.

Collected all his courage and ran, ran as fast as he could, couldn’t believe Jimin had neglected to say she was coming home over the summer for more than a day, days without her reminding Jungkook that he was a coward for not saying it when he could have, having lost his most important person in the world because he was too afraid of telling Park Jimin that he was in love with his best friend.

He remembered that smile wearing nothing but a large t-shirt, sitting on Jimin’s bedroom floor, crushing all of them at UNO and cackling as Jimin blew up for ending up in last place for the third time in a row, yelling that the game was rigged, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her tonight.

And he didn’t.

He remembered her saying to Taehyung that she just wasn’t into girly things. They were having this argument over pizza and Taehyung was waving his around saying she should at least try a dress on every once in a while, never know, might actually like it, and her rolling her eyes as she shot back that she didn’t have to do anything just because it was stereotypical for her gender. Taehyung told her to stop using big words and waved his hands, accidentally flinging his pizza slice into her lap, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her after we clean up.

And he didn’t.

He remembered seeing her prepare to leave for university once again, holding a small package from the internet and handing it to her, a small but practical belated birthday gift, both of them surprised when she opened it, not the matte black phone case he had ordered, but somehow mixed up with a pink bunny phone case that had no business being owned by someone who didn’t like girly things.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t order this–”

And she laughed, shaking her head. “That’s okay, I gotta go, thanks anyway, Jungkook!”

The years went by and every year Jungkook told himself, this is the one, and every year he just couldn’t say it.

He thought he could say it now, drunk and furious at Jimin for not preparing him for this moment, but on his way here Jungkook figured that perhaps this was preferred, that maybe it was better that he couldn’t sit around nervously overthinking what to say.

But, of course, the problem was…

He had already said it in a platonic way.

Shit.

He really fucked himself throughout the years.

Jungkook sighed, now wearing borrowed clothes, holding the note of her handwriting as he rubbed his hair with the towel.

I washed your shorts and they’re hang-drying now. You can sleep in the guest room. I left a glass of water and some hangover meds. If you need anything, I’ll be asleep but you can attempt to wake the dead if you want.

He walked down the hall, towel around his shoulders. Her bedroom door was open. He stood outside the entrance, sighing, seeing her sleeping form and her bedside table, her phone sitting on the charger.

His breath caught in his throat as he recognized that pink bunny phone case.

-

“Where’s Jungkook?”

“Probably at her parents’ place, confessing his love,” Kim Taehyung snickered, picking up the beer bottles left behind next to the pool.

“Hah, of course he would leave without cleaning up,” Park Jimin grumbled, pushing the recycling bin along as Taehyung tossed each bottle inside.

“You think he’s gonna tell her?”

“He didn’t even tell me,” Jimin muttered, shoving used napkins into the bag hanging off the side of the recycling bin that he was going to toss into the trash later. “I had to find out from you. I think he’s hopeless. Why does he like her anyway? She’s fun to be around, yeah, she’s good at school, yeah, knows a lot of random facts, yeah, if you get into philosophy with her like Namjoon-hyung does, you begin to question humanity and reality, yeah, but other than that…”

“You hitting on your best friend, dude?”

“I mean, she’s kinda hot, she wouldn’t say no to me.”

Taehyung snorted.

Jimin smacked him in the ass with the recycling bin.

“Anyway, he’s probably just standing in her bedroom creepily watching her sleeping.”

-

Jungkook stared down at her sleeping form.

He looked up, looking out the window into the late, late night. He was tired, and yet he couldn’t sleep, too busy wondering.

I don’t deserve her if I’m not brave enough to say it.

“Jungkook?”

-

You squinted at the large form in your bedroom.

“Why are you just staring moodily out the window?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Is something wrong? Are you hungry? I can make you a snack…”

“Noona, do you know what the worst feeling in the world is?” he asked softly, still looking out into the warm night.

You grunted and scrunched up your face. “Stepping on a Lego?”

You heard Jungkook laugh and you smiled a little despite your groggy state, hearing a little bit of his old self, the younger Jungkook hanging out with you, Jimin, and, later, Taehyung, the four of you getting up to no good. Somehow, in the past few years, he had gotten quieter and quieter, at least around you, but then again you only came home to visit for a day or two before going back to university.

“Have you ever been in love, noona?”

“Yeah, with the red bean popsicles they used to sell at the ice cream trucks, but then they stopped, those assholes, I’ve never been so heartbroken in my life,” you grumbled, remembering the day where the ice cream man told you they were sold out and your young teenage heart shattering.

“I love you, you know.”

Was this a fever dream? Why did he keep repeating himself? You looked over to his back, still looking outside onto the street, the street where you all used to run and laugh every summer, pretending you were surviving in the wild and not in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, sitting around sipping lemonade and complaining about the heat even though you all could have gone inside, lighting sparklers at night and seeing whose would last the longest even though such a thing was only based on chance anyway.

“Is that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” he added quietly.

“The worst thing I’ve ever heard was accidentally hearing Jimin jacking off. Twice.”

Jungkook finally turned around, giving you a disgusted look. “What?”

You placed a hand on your face and sighed heavily, trying not to remember. “For some reason he thinks the bathroom isn’t echoey or something, like, at least do it in the shower, so the water masks the sound…” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Anyway, I would much rather hear you say you have love for me than listening to Jimin getting off.”

“I don’t have love for you.”

You raised your hand from your face and shifted your gaze to him, half-smile lingering on your lips from remembering Jimin’s carelessness. You made eye contact the second the words left his mouth, those brown eyes shrouded in shadows, but still so clear, a little helpless, a little sad.

“I’m in love with you,” Jungkook whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

A soft breeze swept through the window, lifting the purple-gray strands from Jungkook’s face, revealing his lost, desolate expression.

The cicadas hummed.

A car alarm honked loudly, screeching through the night.

Both you and Jungkook jerked to face the window. You bolted out of bed and you both threw your hands onto the edge of the window, yanking it shut, wincing at the loud noise.

“Ah, jeez… what the hell…?” you groaned, slumping to the ground.

“What’s with people…?” Jungkook muttered, falling to the floor beside you, yanking the towel off his shoulders.

-

“Fuck, I pressed the wrong button!”

“Taehyung, what the hell, turn it off!”

“I was just trying to put the tangerines your parents gave me in my car!”

“I don’t care what you were doing, turn it off!”

-

“Anyway, sorry, you were saying something important and you got interrupted by some dumbass,” you sighed, nudging Jungkook with your shoulder.

“Uh… well, that was it…”

You blinked at him, tilting your head. “What, that you’re in love with me?”

“Y… Yeah?”

You blinked some more.

“Not the, want to go to the arcade and see who can get the highest score in PAC-MAN or go watch shitty action movies and rate the unrealistic plot lines or dare each other to eat whatever expired delicacy is in Taehyung’s fridge, kind of love?”

Jungkook made a repulsed face. “I regret eating that tofu. Don’t think I can ever look at uncooked tofu without gagging a little now…”

You leaned over and caught his eye.

“Do you mean the… want to date and get married and make babies, kind of love?”

His lips parted and the moonlight lit the small mole placed perfectly underneath his lower lip.

A delicate kiss from the moon itself.

Then you realized he was staring at your tits.

You yanked the neckline up a little and Jungkook started, looking back up at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to you in a dress, sorry, I’m being really rude–”

“It assures me that you’re at least interested in the making babies part,” you chuckled.

His ears turned red and he reached up to cover them, trying not to look down. “S… Sorry…”

“So…?”

He chewed on his lip, messing with his earrings with his fingertips. “Um… yeah, that kind of love. The latter kind.”

You lowered your hand. “You’re not messing with me, right? I swear, if this is one of Taehyung’s elaborate ideas to mess with me, I’m going to ki–”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, purple hair flying about. “I’m not joking around. I wanted to tell you for a long, long time, but…” His eyes darted about, panicking a little, before looking back to you helplessly. “You’re Jimin’s best friend, besides Taehyung, and what if… what if you thought I was gross or something and then I don’t think I could hang out with you guys anymore, but then you went to that prestigious university far away and I thought, I’m so stupid, I should have said something, anything, but every time I could even think about it, I didn’t know what to say, nothing seemed right…”

He let out a big sigh and tapped his head against the windowsill, closing his eyes.

“Also, I said it before and threw up in your lap right after, so that kinda fucked me up.”

“Can’t say I was really feeling the romance, yeah.”

He groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“I’d date you though. For real.”

Jungkook removed his hands and blinked at you. “What?”

You chuckled. “Why are you acting so surprised? I’m not going to date Jimin, blergh, I’ve known that guy since I was in preschool. I’m not dating Taehyung, I’m pretty sure he’s on a different brainwave than other human beings.”

You smiled at him and turned around to pick up your phone, holding it up.

“I don’t like girly things or cute things very much, but I kept your gift because it was from you and, funnily enough, I think it made me realize that I was rejecting femininity because society puts such a negative connotation on things young women like and because my friends growing up were primarily male, thus I wanted to seem cool or relatable so I rejected stereotypically feminine concepts…”

“… What?”

Now it was a confused what.

“Uh, never mind,” you laughed awkwardly, putting your phone back on your nightstand. “Anyway, Jungkook, you made me realize things about myself, and I love being around you, but I thought a handsome guy like you would want to date a pretty girl, and I’m not really that.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? You’re the prettiest girl in the world. No one could ever be prettier than you.”

You felt your neck heat. “Yo, don’t inflate my ego when it’s not the truth,” you chuckled sheepishly, waving a hand. “You’ve been drinking anyway. Alcohol makes everyone prettier.”

“It’s the truth.”

Was he drunk or were you drunk? Why was Jeon Jungkook getting closer?

“Would you really date me?”

You stared into those chocolate eyes and smiled.

“Yes, I would.”

And you leaned forward and kissed him.

His eyes widened, staring at you and you closed your eyes, pressing your lips to his, inhaling his scent, memories of hot summers and mirthful laughter filling your head, standing beside Jungkook and kicking Jimin and Taehyung’s ass at table tennis even though Jungkook was doing most of the work, finishing a movie together after Jimin and Taehyung had passed out on the couch on top of each other and talking excitedly about it until you both fall asleep, getting lamb skewers after Jimin and Taehyung went off to eat ramen in a huff, unable to agree on the same meal as a foursome, but it was fine, no, better than fine, perfect even.

Because you were with Jungkook.

You broke the kiss and opened your eyes, smiling at him.

He blinked slowly, looking down at you.

“Noona…”

His hand raised, fingers spreading out longingly. You quickly reached up and pushed it back down.

“Jungkook, I swear, I do want to touch you in a less than holy way, but maybe not when you’re wearing my dad’s clothes, including his underwear, because that’s really fucking weird.”

Jungkook looked down at the brown t-shirt and beige shorts. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

“You know, come to think of it, I feel like Taehyung has slowly stolen Jimin from me over the years, so maybe this was fated…” you mumbled, remembering at the moments you had shared with Jungkook were because your other two friends had abandoned you.

“I feel you, sometimes I feel like a third wheel…”

-

“I’m so sleepy.”

“I’ll tuck you in first, but I’m going to get us some water so we don’t die tomorrow morning.”

“Ugh, Jimin, bring another pillow please.”

“Hah, fine, but you’re buying breakfast tomorrow…”

--

masterpost

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 14

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: The guardians keep trying to include you in various activities to keep your mind off what's troubling you since you won't talk about it. However, one of these activities turns out to have a, shall we say... slightly less than desired outcome.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Thank you to @quillsandtypos, @theambracer88, @mcugiggles, @marvelouslyfluffy and all the anons who participated in my questionnaire post! As you probably guessed, I'll be using the answers (and any future ones, if anyone else still wants to play) to complete some fluffy scenes in the story! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 23 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4,683

Rocket, though he finally had a way to repair the device, had decided to wait a bit before actually doing so. Hell, he had waited this long, certain that his smuggling had been in vain once he found one of the parts had broken on... ahem, "departure," so what was another day or two? It was obvious they were going to be here awhile anyway, so he wasn't too rushed.

One might wonder, how was Rocket able to smuggle anything if SHIELD had searched him, already having found and confiscated contraband he had hidden in his "back pocket?"

Well, Rocket wasn't an idiot. He knew of other ways to smuggle goods on his person. Or, in his person, rather. That being said, maybe to say he wasn't an idiot might be giving him a bit too much credit... Swallowing the pieces of a small data pad might not have been exactly the safest thing to do, though he had given himself a pat on the back for rightfully assuming the Terran's wouldn't think to put him through a body scanner.

He had been damned lucky that nothing had gotten lodged or had punctured any of his innards on the way through, but hey, it worked, didn't it?

Well, mostly.

As said, a part had broken on "departure," which he of course blamed on Gamora and Mantis for rushing him in the bathroom that first day. If that bug-eyed chick didn't have such a tiny bladder then he could have allowed for a more "graceful landing."

No matter, he now had a way to fix it thanks to you. This had admittedly softened his attitude towards you the tiniest bit, though he wasn't going to admit it, nor was he going to completely let his guard down. Use of your workshop was probably just another bribe to win his favor, after all. Just like the bed. He was definitely going to take advantage of it, don't get him wrong. He wasn't just not going to use the tools available to him. Just like he wasn't going to just not sleep in the bed you built him. It was better than sleeping in the crib, though he had been grateful the crib had been left in the room when you left the bed. He had been hiding the pieces of the smuggled device under the crib's mattress -the only good use he saw for it, other than the fact that Groot actually slept pretty well in it- because boy, if the others had found out he had smuggled that in, they would have been pissed. Hence, why he wasn't in too big a hurry to fix it just yet.

Perhaps it couldn't hurt to maybe fix that broken stool in the shed for you, though. Just for a warm up, not because he thought he owed you anything, of course.

***

The evening of the check-in you had found yourself with nothing to do and back in the thoughts that had plagued you since the couple came, and you once again considered pouring yourself a glass or two of whiskey.

Yondu had been leaning against the counter enjoying a snack when he saw you retrieve the bottle from the fridge. Remembering the previous night he raised an eyebrow at you. The last thing he wanted was to witness a repeat, but thought he'd still keep an eye on you. Cut you off again before/if you started to look a little too "weepy." He had doubts that you even remembered what you'd done the previous night, and this was confirmed when he made a lighthearted comment about, "Ya goin' to take it easy tonight, or will I be needin' to cut you off again?" and you raised an eyebrow at him before saying, "What? You didn'- Oh right- I think I do remember you taking my drink now that you mention it," as you set the bottle on the table and went to retrieve a glass from the cupboard.

You now sported a slight blush and, pausing your actions, asked, "I um, didn't say or do anything embarrassing to have warranted that, did I?"

Yondu looked you right in the eye, and lied. "Nope. It was just clear ya had a bit much. Figured I'd save yer wimpy Terran liver." He laughed at your slight pout and added, "Ya just whined at me fer takin' yer drink and then fell asleep. Nuttin' too excitin'."

Yondu could see the relief on your face and it solidified his lack of regret of not telling you. Sure, he might have wanted to crack the mystery to see why you were the way you were, but not like that. He hadn't expected the previous night's display, and if anything, it made him feel like he should back off. Yes, it prompted more burning questions, but even he knew there were some things you just didn't pry into.

Around that time Peter and Kraglin came into the kitchen, messing about and horse-playing. You considered telling them to break it up, but then decided you didn't actually care enough as long as they weren't about to break anything... or anyone. You were about to make your standard polite offer of a drink when suddenly a rip was heard and Peter whined out, "Aw man! You ripped my favorite shirt!"

Sure enough, their rough-housing had managed to rip the seam along the left-shoulder of Peter's dark blue shirt, leaving a sizable hole of a couple inches long that revealed another white shirt underneath.

You rolled your eyes and told him where he could find the sewing kit.

Peter looked at you sheepishly and said, "I don't know how to sew."

You sighed and said, "I guess I'm not doing anything..." and you began to walk towards him and the exit of the kitchen, abandoning the bottle of whiskey on the table without having poured a drink.

Peter took off his ripped shirt and in a surprised voice said, "Oh!- Thanks-" starting to hand you the shirt as you walked past.

You didn't take the shirt, just looked at him as a laugh escaped your throat. "I didn't say I'd do it for you. I meant I'll teach you." With that you cocked your head towards the door and headed out towards the sitting room.

As you walked away you shook your head and muttered something Peter couldn't hear but assumed was an insult as he blushed both from embarrassment at his mistake and from hearing Yondu and Kraglin now laughing at him. He wordlessly followed, not wishing to make more of a fool of himself.

Watching Peter leave, inspiration struck Yondu. It might be overstepping, and might have been a long shot, but it was worth a try. He nudged Kraglin in the arm to get his attention. "Ya remember last night? How things got a little too..." he searched for the right word.

Kraglin finished for him, "Sad? Yeah. I remember." He caught sight of the bottle on the table. "She back at it tonight?" He and Yondu hadn't discussed what happened when he had returned to the kitchen after walking you to your room. It had gone unsaid that you were in a bad way.

"She was gonna," Yondu answered, "but then you two came in and gave her something to distract herself. Might not hurt to keep doing that for a bit."

"Ya wanna keep her busy?" Kraglin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Better than watchin' her drown herself in a bottle," Yondu replied flippantly with a shrug, but Kraglin could see through his blasé attitude.

He was slightly surprised, but not completely opposed to Yondu's suggestion. You had been drinking a lot the past few days. It didn't take a genius to see that something was obviously wrong, and he knew better that drinking like that only made sad feelings worse. If this had been the Eclector, and you part of the crew, he or Yondu would have cut you off well before now once they saw the pit you were digging. You just don't let sad people drink themselves into a stupor. It's bad form. But this wasn't the ship, and you weren't crew, and they couldn't stop you. They were in your house. They've barely known you for three weeks. He knew they couldn't just order you around, but if a little bit of distraction kept him from seeing you looking that sad again and kept you from hiding in the bottom of a bottle, he was for it.

Yondu spoke again, more or less repeating Kraglin's thoughts back at him. "I know we're on her turf, but someone's gotta do somethin'. It's bad form to just let h- to just to let a person drown like that. She needs to get her mind off what's been troubling her."

Kraglin examined the former captain's features. There was something else there. An emotion behind his eyes the first mate was familiar with after years of faithful service. Cap'n might not always be the best at admitting his softer feelings, but Kraglin knew. He could see it.

It was a look similar to the one he wore after he finished telling Rocket just how alike they were, right before they went to fight Ego. It was the same look in his eyes he had shortly after Peter came aboard the Eclector as a boy and it was decided he wasn't going to be delivered to Ego. One Kraglin even thought he recognized being on the receiving end of when he was a younger lad on the crew.

Kraglin smiled, a soft mix of understanding and sadness. "Sir," he said gently.

Yondu grunted in response and glanced at him.

"First, I do agree with ya, we should help keep her mind off it, but I just gotta say this too." He sighed before continuing. He knew Yondu wasn't going to like what he was about to say, but they were alone now, so he felt safe to say it. He knew if he said this in front of anyone else it'd a a surefire way to put Yondu dangerously close to whistling territory. "We can't be getting too attached, now."

Yondu glared at him. "Who said anythin' about-"

"Sir, all respect and all, but I think I can say I know ya better than anyone else here." Kraglin said, having cut Yondu off with a slight chuckle. "I can see it, I can tell when you're getting attached." His tone got slightly more serious, more comforting. "I don't think it'll be good for ya to get too attached, sir. We'll be leaving here eventually, and we know she ain't gonna be coming with us."

Yondu set his mouth in a firm line and stared Kraglin down hard but didn't say anything. He knew his first mate was right, but that didn't mean he had to admit it. Finally he answered with, "I ain't gettin' attached to nuttin' or nobody."

Kraglin sighed. If he knew anything else it was that Yondu could also be stubborn as hell. If he wanted to live in denial, well there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it. "Alright, sir," he said with a shake of his head. "I believe ya." He didn't, and his tone betrayed that, earning him a narrowed eyed look from Yondu, but they dropped the conversation, at least for now.

***

Showing Peter how to sew went fairly smoothly. He seemed to grasp the concept well enough, watching you sew the first third of the tear - not the easiest task with your brace on- and then repeating what you had shown him on the rest himself. He finished soon enough and thanked you before leaving the table.

However, almost immediately after that Kraglin showed up with something ripped and asked if you could teach him too. You sighed, and mildly scolded him about how come he couldn't have asked while you were showing Peter, but you agreed regardless. Again, it wasn't exactly the easiest task considering you only had a limited range of motion to move your arm, but you managed. After he finally seemed to get it (he asked a lot of questions, even if he understood, assuming it'd be helpful to keep you occupied for longer) you noticed it had gotten dark out, and you were tired anyway, and so when it looked like he had a handle on it you decided to just go to bed.

***

The next day it seemed like people just kept asking you to do things. Not like they were ordering you around, but more like asking you to do things with them, which they hadn't often done.

It wasn't all bad, but you had the feeling it wasn't just a coincidence that they were seemingly trying to keep you engaged in various tasks and activities after Maria had informed you that one of them had expressed concerns about your well-being. You didn't know if they were now acting on their own or if Fury or Agent Hill had suggested it, but either way you figured you'd just roll with it. If you made an effort maybe they'd be happy and drop it.

That morning, before you realized what was going on, Mantis came to you with a book on plants and asked you to help her identify different plants around the property. You had almost said no, perhaps another time, but then you saw the expectant look on her happy face and decided you had time to kill anyway, so what could it hurt?

It was about when you were asked by Mantis and Drax to join the others for a game of UNO that you started to suspect what was going on.

Before this, Peter had kept coming up to you wanting to show you funny videos he found, having recently discovered the YouTube app on the TV; Yondu had come to you with an archery book and tried making small-talk asking about Terran types of archery; and Gamora and Kraglin asked you to help ref while everyone sparred.

You had agreed to reffing, feeling a little better than you had been all those days you had refused and now therefore not seeing any reason not to.

It was a slight bummer though, needing to sit on the sidelines and watching others train, but you supposed watching them to see if they knew any cool 'space moves' couldn't hurt. Plus, watching how the raccoon was able to hold his own against human-sized opponents was always interesting. Groot sat with you, not being permitted to spar with the others (except for when Rocket would decide to pretend spar with him, just to make him happy) and he was adorable as he played with the grass, so it wasn't all bad.

After that everyone else was pretty much tired, but Groot came up to you with the car you had given him, holding it above his head. You raised an eyebrow and looked to Peter, who informed you that the little guy wanted you to push him on it. You did, because how could you possibly say no to that?

What was cute to Peter, however, was the fact that no one had prompted Groot to do that. He just genuinely wanted you to play with him.

After a while of playing with Groot is when Mantis and Drax had come to you about playing UNO. Now you were getting a hint of what they were doing, but you agreed to play a few games with them anyway. You even caught yourself actually starting to have fun.

Around suppertime Peter came up to you, asking if you could teach him how to cook something. He talked about how he thought it'd be fun to learn to cook more things from his home world, and also reminded you how you did say several times that he could 'help you cook later.'

You sighed and after some more prodding from Peter you finally agreed, asking him what he might like to learn how to cook.

Peter looked like a deer in the headlights before admitting that he didn't actually know. He didn't remember a whole lot of different Terran foods from when he was a kid, and he was now drawing a blank.

You nodded towards the kitchen and told him the two of you would figure it out.

After looking for a bit you decided on a vegetable stew, mostly because this had been unexpected and you hadn't pulled any meat from the freezer to thaw.

Peter was surprisingly not bad at it. He handled the knife safely, he cut the vegetables evenly, and he listened as you told him what to do and when. You wondered if he had some experience cooking before, but you didn't ask.

After dinner Gamora wouldn't take no for an answer on helping with the dishes, of course using your injury as an excuse. You sighed, but allowed it, agreeing to dry while she washed, still under the impression that if you just indulged them for a bit they'd eventually stop and start leaving you along again.

Just as you finished Peter came to the two of you asking if you wanted to see a new movie he found on Netflix.

Figuring it wouldn't hurt to make an effort, you agreed to watching a movie with them and followed into the sitting room, wondering what film he had picked out.

Turned out, he had chosen a horror movie. Candy Man.

You sighed. Obviously you weren't completely immune to jump scares, but you didn't really mind horror movies. You could even go as far to say that you enjoyed most of them. However, you were concerned about Mantis, who you could see sitting happily on the rug in front of the couch next to Rocket as you entered the room.

"Are you sure this movie is appropriate for everyone?" you ask Peter.

"What? You scARed?" Rocket taunted with a smirk, and it was then that you saw Groot on the rug as well, having been sitting in Rocket's lap.

You roll your eyes and explain that your concerns were for the wooden child and Mantis, as your time spent with them hadn't made you very confident that they would recieve a scary movie well. "I'm more concerned the movie's gonna give them nightmares," you explained as you took a seat at the end of the couch.

Gamora seemed to agree with you, but the two of you were outvoted. Rocket just rolled his eyes and snarked that he bet you were scared, and Mantis assured excitedly that she could watch it. Groot, even though you couldn't understand him, also seemed adamant. You had a feeling they didn't really know what they were getting into, but combined with the fact that Mantis was an adult, and Groot wasn't your child, and Peter was doing his best to convince you and Gamora that everything would be fine, you eventually gave in, stating, "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. She better not crawl into my bed tonight. I'll send her your way."

Peter just laughed and shook his head, not taking you seriously, before turning out the lights and taking a seat next to Gamora at the other end of the couch. Kraglin took the last available seat between you and Peter and Rocket smarted off again.

"If you're gonna get scared maybe Kraglin will hold your hand!" he laughed as Peter turned on the film.

You rolled your eyes at him and crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at Kraglin to give the rodent any satisfaction that he might have succeeded in embarrassing you. This, Kraglin was grateful for, because he was sort of an easy blusher, and he didn't want you to get the wrong idea. He just gave Rocket an unamused look, but he was also grateful the lights had been dimmed so that Yondu couldn't see him blushing and then tease him for it. Whether or not the former Ravager captain would actually believe Kraglin might have managed to develop feelings for you wouldn't matter. That fact that Kraglin had just told Yondu the previous night that he shouldn't be getting attached would be enough for him to jump on it and tease the hell out of him purely out of spite.

Despite the movie being old, it was still relatively new to you. You had heard about it, thought you remembered seeing a commercial or maybe a clip or two of it over the years, but this had been your first time actually watching it.

It was about halfway though and nothing terribly scary had happened yet. There was the flashback scene of a little boy having been mutilated that made you cringe, as any show that featured little kids being harmed always hit a sore spot, but it didn't really show much more than a bloody bathroom.

You were starting to think it probably wasn't going to be any real scary scenes, but then Candyman started to call the college lady's name, and it actually made you fight a shiver. You didn't know why, but creepy sounds were one of the few things from a film that could actually strike fear in your heart. Thankfully it didn't last long. You weren't looking forward to being teased for jumping or shivering at a movie that wasn't really even that scary.

At least it would mean that Mantis would be unlikely to crawl into your bed scared tonigh-

Candyman just shoved his hook through the college lady's medicine cabinet.

Half of everyone jumped, including you. Among those startled was Kraglin, and he shot you a glance that you purposely didn't return, not wanting to answer to any cocky smiles or teases accusing you of being scared.

A shot came on the screen centering on the baby Candyman took and you tensed, worried he was going to kill it, but you were relieved to see that he only let it suckle on his finger.

Kraglin felt you tense and then relax beside him, and he frowned, remembering the other night. He considered asking if you were alright, but then thought better of it and held his tongue, instead watching on as a scene played where the lady was now stuck in a mental hospital, having been believed to have killed her best friend and said baby from the previous scene.

Yondu didn't think he liked this movie, but he continued to watch in silence. He didn't want to see kids being hurt, and he had also tensed at the previous scene. Like you, he was sure that the bad guy was about to kill the baby. However, as he was sitting in his usual spot in the armchair, his tension went unnoticed.

Mantis let out a short scream when the lady summoned Candyman and he killed the psychiatrist. You sighed, realizing this wasn't looking good for her staying in her own bed tonight. Little did Peter know, you hadn't been kidding. If she tries to crawl in with you, you're sending her right to him, seeing as it would be his fault.

The lady was now exploring Candyman's lair, and you started to get a little tense at the creepy sounds of his breathing, and you mentally cursed whoever mixed the sound for this movie.

You got even more tense and fidgety when he opened his robe to reveal a ribcage full of bees. You only hoped no one noticed to tease you for it. Body horror was another thing that never failed to make you shudder.

Eventually the movie started to come to a close, a scene played where the lady's jerk ex-fiancé was having flashbacks to how good he had it with her now that she was dead, and you thought it was just going to end on a sad note.

That is, until he said her name, Helen, five times in the mirror (just like Candyman) and she came back and killed him with the Candyman's hook. Her sudden appearance made you startle slightly, and you heard more squeals from Mantis. You sighed again. Yep, she was definitely not going to sleep tonight.

The movie was finally over and Peter got up to turn on the lights. He turned to see you giving him a glare and he smiled. "What? Was it too scary for you?" he jeered.

You just pointed down to Groot. He had his head buried in Rocket's chest and was softly whimpering. "I told you that movie wasn't for kids."

Rocket scoffed at you and told you he would be fine, then turned it on you, saying how he felt you jump at least three times from where he was sitting.

You rolled your eyes and ignored him, turning to Peter and this time gesturing to Mantis, who still looked a bit shaken. "I meant what I said. She tries to crawl in bed with me, I'm sending her to you," you say, leaving to go to go get ready for bed, both because it was now late, and to avoid any inevitable further teasing from Rocket.

The others seemed to have much the same idea about bedtime, and a few of them followed you up the stairs.

You let Mantis shower first, hopeful that if you went after her that she might hopefully be asleep by the time you got out. However, when you finished your own shower, Peter had thought it'd be funny to jump-scare you as you exited the bathroom, grabbing your shoulders and shouting, "CANDYMAN'S GOTCHA!" which resulted in you jumping a mile with a noise you'd deny was a shriek before you turned to punch him in the arm scolding, "Damn you!"

He, along with Rocket, only responded by laughing their asses off at you. You thought you could also hear Drax's own booming laughter down the hall from his room, and you caught a glimpse of Yondu and Kraglin sharing amused glances and snickering from their shared room.

Your face getting warm at the fact that he had actually managed to get you pretty good, you then just storm off to your room, ignoring Rocket's teases that he bet that you'd be the one crawling into Mantis's bed tonight.

You shut the bedroom door behind you to see Mantis awake and clutching her bear for dear life. Whether she was just already awake due to nerves or you had woken her with your startled cry, you didn't know, but you flicked on your desk lamp for her, turned out your overhead light and crawled into bed without a word.

Sometime later, long enough for you to have drifted off into a decently sound enough sleep to be dreaming, you were startled awake by someone crawling into your bed.

Guess who. That's right. Mantis.

You groaned and turned to see she had already crawled halfway into your bed before you stopped her by rousing. "Mantis," you groaned, pointing towards the door, "go climb into Peter's bed. He's the one that chose the movie."

Mantis tucked her chin sheepishly and admitted she had already tried that, but his and Gamora's door had been locked.

You stared at the ceiling and sighed. Clever bastard.

You made a mental note to squirt lemon juice in his coffee in the morning before letting out another groan. "Ugh, fine. But just this once," you allowed, ignoring the fact that this would actually technically be the second time. You were also not actually quite as salty as you let on. If anything, you should maybe thank her for waking you from a bad dream involving the Candyman's ribcage full of bees, but you weren't going to tell her that.

She smiled gratefully and thanked you as she snuggled in.

You sighed quietly and Mantis fell asleep quickly. At least she didn't snore.

You spent the next bit before you fell asleep yourself contemplating different ways that you might be able to annoy Peter for sufficient payback.

[strabbyshortcake]

the truth about snaktooth

Gramble finally tells his partners what befell him and everybody else on the island.

“Whatcha doin’, Gram?”

The screen door clatters as it shuts behind Boots. It’s a nice summer night, one of the rare ones they got with little humidity, so Gramble had left the main door open, the sound of katydids and crickets drifting through from the outdoors. He looks up from the hand towel in his paws, shoulders hunched guiltily.

There’s a large cardboard box sitting on the floor, full of bits of kitchen décor. Ceramic plates with fruit stenciled on them, prints of vintage ads for bread and desserts, towels with produce embroidered on them. All the kitschy things Boots knew he liked decorating his spaces with, and Gramble spent more time in the kitchen than either her or Piesha, with how much he enjoyed cooking.

“Oh, evenin’ Boots,” he greets her, expression softening into a smile. “You remember we talked about Lizbert and Egg visitin?”

“Yeah…?” She pads over, frowning a little at the bare spots on the walls and shelves. Boots was acquainted with the two from attending expedition reunions with Gramble, and while she made it no mystery that she disliked Lizbert’s invasive style of exploration, it was all in the past. Liz had retired from that life after the whole Snaktooth stunt to become a museum curator. “What’s the matter, they allergic to tackiness?”

Gramble laughs at her affectionate teasing. “No, well… Actually, funny you should say that. Egg’s fine, but Liz has got… I guess you could say she’s got kind of a hang-up over food imagery. And while she’s doin’ well these days, might just make her a lil’ more comfortable to not feel so surrounded, y’know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get you.” Boots nods, reaching up to take the clock off the wall. It’s a piece of painted wood in the shape of a strawberry. Nollie had made it in an art class. “Place is a little dusty, anyway.”

Together he and Boots work to mostly strip the place of any food-related decoration, leaving only a couple little accents up so the place didn’t seem too bare. Gramble sighs at the empty walls, leaning into Boots’ touch as she places a paw on his shoulder.

She and Pie had always been so understanding when he told them he couldn’t talk about what had happened on the island, but he hated to keep his loved ones in the dark. Not simply for the fact that there might still be danger lurking out there, but that he knew he could trust them, and yet, just telling them what had happened was almost as terrifying as the thought of being back there. The idea that just speaking of it would somehow make it manifest, bring it back into his life when he’d worked so hard to escape it, haunted him, but so did keeping it bottled up inside.

“…I need to tell you both what really happened,” he says quietly. “It’s been long enough. Just, after Liz and Egg are gone. Then we’ll talk about it.”

Boots blinks down at him in surprise. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

--

The visit went well. This was the first time Lizbert and Eggabell had seen the new house and the refurbished barn, the first they’d met Cardi and Dember, and Nollie had only been a year old when they’d last come around. They’d caught up, shared stories, enjoyed Gramble’s cooking and chatted about where their lives were going and where they’d been.

After they’d waved goodbye, gotten in Eggabell’s car and driven off to see Wambus and Triffany, after the dishes had been cleared and cleaned and the kids were all in bed, Gramble sat Boots and Piesha down on the porch swing in the back while he took the rocking chair.

“I need to tell you,” he says, fidgeting with his paws where they rested on his chest. “about what happened on Snaktooth.”

“Alright.” Pie nods slowly, leaning into Boots’ cushy side. Boots gives him an encouraging smile, rocking the swing back and forth slightly with her heel.

Gramble swallows, licking his lips. “So… Not all of what I told you was a cover-up. We did run outta food and I did almost starve to death. But… Geez, I dunno where to even start.”

“Why’d you go in the first place?” Boots asks.

“Oh, that I didn’t lie about either. My mama really did up and leave while I was at college. I went cuz… Cuz I guess I felt like I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I saw Liz on TV say she was gatherin’ people up for her team and I just… I wanted somewhere to go that wasn’t home.”

She nods solemnly, gesturing for him to go on.

“Well, Snaktooth… Liz said she found somethin’ there. These creatures she was documenting. D’you… Have either of you ever heard of bugsnax?” Gramble nearly whispers the last word, even though it’s just the three of them out here, just the three of them and the crickets and fireflies, the kids sound asleep.

Piesha tilts her head, thoughtful. “Mm… Maybe a long time ago,” Pie says. “One of those things they got lots of fairy tales about. Critters made of food, right?”

“Right.” Gramble nods. “But they’re real. And please- I know how it sounds,” he stammers, even though neither of them looked skeptical. “But I swear. I saw them, I picked them up and held them, I had a whole barn full of them that Liz and Buddy caught for me. I had names for them, and… and everybody said they were the most delicious things they’d ever eaten. B-but there’s a reason for that. Sorry, lemme go back a bit and explain.

“When we got there, we thought we’d be able to farm. That was Wambus’s thing, but no matter what he tried, the crops would wither, or the bugsnax would get in and destroy them. The only thing he could grow was the sauce that grew on the island, and that wasn’t anywhere near enough to live on. Pretty soon we ran outta food, but that wasn’t a problem for most folks. They’d just eat the bugsnax.”

“And I’m guessin’ you didn’t?” Boots asks.

He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t want to. I already didn’t eat meat, and the snax were always so cute and friendly and I couldn’t bear the thought of hurtin’ them. So I just… didn’t. I tried to live off the sauce, and I ate dandelions and weeds, I ate damn near anything that was edible, but it was never enough.”

“That’s awful, Gram.” Boots says, her brows knitted. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“Well, I… I thought about it,” Gramble wraps his arms around himself. “Even though I didn’t have nowhere to return to, I figured it might be better than starving. But it wasn’t too long after that Lizbert up and disappeared. Her and Egg, there was an earthquake and after that they never came back to town. Some folks thought they died, others thought they ran off, but without her nobody was bringin’ in bugsnax to eat and they started to eat mine, so I ran off with the rest of ‘em and that made everybody mad and I really did start to think there was nobody who cared about me but the snax and Wiggle, and… and even she was eatin’ them too, but I let her cuz I didn’t have nobody else... I was so afraid she’d leave me too that I put up with it.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath. “So, um… I guess a couple weeks after that, Buddy finally showed up. We’d been on the island almost a year at that point. They wanted to interview Liz, figure out what happened, and they managed to get all of us back into town within a week or two. I was really doin’ poorly though.” His claws absently scratch at his belly over the scar that the rake had left, concealed beneath his fur but never fully faded.  “Didn’t care much whether I lived or died. Nothin’ I tried worked, and one of the big snax I asked Buddy for nearly killed me. And then…”

Boots holds Pie’s paw between both of hers, stroking it, both of them patiently waiting for him to gather his racing thoughts. It had been so long since he’d even thought about all this, and much of the events were a haze of hunger and pain, he was amazed he could keep the basic timeline coherent.

“Then, one night… When we were all back in town, Filbo decided he wanted to throw a party. That was when everything… That’s when it all fell apart. There was an active volcano on the island, and it erupted. Eggabell suddenly showed up back in town and told us she knew where Liz was, and she and Buddy and Filbo ran off to get her while the rest of us tried to get to safety. B-but… You remember what I said before, about the bugsnax?” He lifts his gaze to the two of them.

Pie nods at him. “Yeah. They taste good, right?”

“They also…” Gramble holds his paws out, curling his fingers into fists. “They change you. Whenever you eat one, your body parts become it. I know it sounds silly, but everybody was walkin’ around with arms and legs made of strawberries and corn and cinnamon rolls and you kinda just… got used to it. I only ever ate one when I was sleepwalkin’, and I don’t even remember what it was like, but everybody else except Shelda ate ‘em all the time. You get used to it and then you start believin’ that they’re the only thing that can make you feel good anymore. Sorta like drugs, but sorta like… Wiggle used to say they inspired her, and Chandlo thought he could get stronger with them, it was whatever you wanted. I guess even I was fallin’ for it, thinkin’ they could replace my family, and I never even had to eat ‘em.

“But that’s the trick. You get dependent, but you don’t realize that… That they’re parasites. And I’m kinda fuzzy on the details, but according to Buddy, Liz was somehow stuck down in the main… meat of the hive,” Gramble brings his paws together, looking down at his intertwined fingers. “And that’s where she’d been all along, down in the darkness with all those food bugs crawlin’ all over her and into her mouth and… that’s why she’s got such a thing about food.”

“Ah…” He can’t blame Boots for looking a little numb, covering her mouth with her paw as Pie stares blankly at him. It was a lot to take in. “Yeah, I guess that’d do it.”

Gramble goes on. “They attacked us not long after Buddy and the others left, tryin’ to force themselves into our mouths, or kill us, either or. I guess they knew the jig was up, then and there. No comin’ back from that. But we all got away, in the end… And that’s what happened.”

He falls silent. The porch swing creaks slightly as Boots lets it come to a stop, letting the singing of the insects fill the air between them for a long moment.

“S’this place still out there…?” Piesha speaks up softly, glancing out into the darkness as if the snax might be watching from the trees.

“Far as I know,” Gramble says, slipping off the chair to walk over and take one of their paws in each of his. “But you gotta promise me you will never, ever go there.” His expression is grim as he peers up at them. “And you’ll never breathe a word to any of the kids about it, or to anybody else. Nobody should ever step foot on that awful place again.”  

“Gram,” Boots squeezes his paw in return, then leans over to scoop him up and pull him into her lap, the swing groaning in complaint as yet another grumpus is piled upon it. “…there’s gotta be somethin’ we can do-”

“No.” Gramble shakes his head, desperation creeping into his voice. “I- I don’t know. Maybe there is somethin’ that someone out there can do, but it can’t be any of us. I don’t want nothin’ to do with it ever again and if word gets out, it’s just gonna be more people goin’ there and that’s exactly what it wants. Please,” he tilts his head up at her, the porch light glimmering in his eyes. “Just leave it alone. It can’t get us here and I want it to stay that way. Promise me.”

When she hesitates, he repeats himself, teeth glinting as his lips peel back. “Promise me, please-”

“I promise.” Boots leans down to kiss him on the nose, wrapping her arm around him as the other draws Pie in closer. “I won’t tell nobody if that’s what you want.”

“That’s all that I want,” he murmurs into her fluffy chest, suddenly very tired despite the mental weight that had lifted. He’d spoken Snaktooth’s name aloud, finally uncorked what he’d kept bottled up for nearly two decades now. He should feel better-prepared, now that they were all on the same page, so why did he still feel like he was only summoning the beast? Perhaps he just needed to sleep, let this new information digest, and they’d face whatever came tomorrow together.

Hundreds of miles away, the island remembers them too.

[kurlyfrasier]

The Plan: Step Two

Raph x Reader

Synopsis: Reader has a plan to win her favorite terrapin over. Step Two: Get him to notice you. If only Raph would stop leaving in the middle of practice!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1500-ish

It had been months since Raph finally agreed to teach you how to fight, and it felt like you had gotten nowhere. Yes, your fighting skills were getting decent. Yes, you got to spend all of your free time with Raph. But he was keeping himself at a distance, or so it seemed to you.

The first few weeks you wore a t-shirt (that was a little too big) and sweats before practicing in leggings and a tee that fit a little better with a lower cut. When that didn’t work, you upped your game with school-appropriate length shorts and a cami. Now you wore short shorts and a sports bra- no shirt- and had been for almost a month. Still, Raph never ‘accidentally’ touched you inappropriately. Never said anything inappropriately. He didn’t even look at you inappropriately! It was starting to get more than frustrating. It was starting to sear a black hole in your heart. 

You were going to fail.

Did he even find you attractive?

You groaned, sprawling yourself out on the floor as you waited for Raph to return from helping Mikey with- you couldn’t remember. You didn’t know because you never heard Mikey asking for help in the first place. Raph just suddenly stopped the lesson and said he would be back- that Mikey was calling for him.

“What’s wrong y/n?” Donnie’s voice from above had you gasp in surprise and had your eyes opening wide. You hadn’t even heard him walk towards you. 

“Nothing...just waiting on Raph,” you replied as you sat up and wrapped your arms around your knees, sounding hopeless.

“I thought he was in here? I was going to give him his phone back,” Donnie glanced around the room as you gave him a quizzical look. “He broke it last night on patrol. Again.”

“Oh. He’s helping Mikey with...something,” you shrugged.

“Mikey?”

“Yeah.”

“Getting the pizza?” Donnie asked in suspicion.

“I guess? I don’t know. Raph just said Mikey was calling for him,” you explained.

“Okay,” Donnie drawled. “Mind giving this to him when he gets back?”

“Sure,” you answered, grabbing the t-phone from his outstretched hand before he left the room mumbling to himself.

After a few more minutes of inactivity, you shivered.

“If ya put on some clothes ya wouldn’t be so cold.” Your head snapped to the entrance to find Raph sauntering in.

“I am wearing clothes,” was your automatic reply. “I get hot if I wear more, is all.”

“Ready?” he said, taking a fighting stance as if you were actually a worthy opponent.

“Yeah,” you stood up with a stance of your own. “Did you guys get the pizza?”

“Pizza?” He let his arms drop a little, face scrunched in confusion.

“Yeah, Donnie said you guys went to get the pizza,” you barely registered his confusion, too engrossed in thinking of a way to get past his defenses.

“Uh, yeah,” he put his arms back up. 

“And you don’t wanna eat first?”

“I- uh- when I found out he jus’ wanted someone ta go with him I told him I was trainin’ with ya an’ told him ta go by himself.”

“Oh...okay,” you punched at him, hitting nothing but thick forearm when he blocked it.

“Good hit,” he commented.

“Good hit?” You asked in exasperation and relaxed your stance, arms hanging at your sides. “Raph, you easily blocked me- like always.”

“Doesn’ mean it wasn’ a good punch.”

You sighed, more upset that Raph didn’t seem to be interested in you more than anything. “Can we stop for the day?” You asked hopefully. Raph was a strict teacher. Shortened sessions did not happen unless someone was dying. “I’m exhausted and I’m sure the pizza will be here any minute anyway.”

“Sure,” he shrugged, acquiescing easier than you thought he would.

“Really?”

“Yeah. ‘M starvin’ anyway,” he turned to walk away, barely giving you a second glance.

“Wait!”

He stopped at your demand, but didn’t face you. 

“Mind if I borrow a shirt? I didn’t bring anything extra with me because I was running late,” you lied. You didn’t run late and you didn’t forget anything. You left you hoodie and sweats at home, hoping Raph would let you borrow one of his oversized shirts- maybe get some sort of reaction out of him. Damsel in distress and all that.

“Sure,” he rumbled out, sounding weirdly pleased. You cocked your head, confused because you had never heard that sound from him before, but followed him to his room anyway. Every once in a while you would hear Leo make a rumbly purring sound around Layla, mostly on movie nights like tonight would turn into- hence why Mikey was getting pizza- and wondered what it meant.

Was it a good thing?

Or was he annoyed?

You decided you would ask Donnie about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raph couldn’t stop the happy chur that emitted from deep within. It wasn’t often his chur slipped out and usually it was when he was thinking about you late at night after everyone else was asleep. Needless to say, he was relieved when you told him that you needed to talk to Donnie the moment you had his shirt on. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop the deep chur that was quickly building as he watched you leave his room. He didn’t even comment for fear of churring instead of speaking.

What a freaky mutant thing to do- another thing to remind you that he wasn’t human.

He practically slammed the door shut behind you so he could chur in peace and maybe find a way to keep it in during the movie later. Raph decided that Donnie might know a trick or two to keep the chur in and headed to the lab- completely forgetting the fact that you left to go talk to the same brother.

“...make rumbly sounds?” 

Raph stopped short in a panic outside the lab when he heard your voice.

“Sure, Raph’s always rumbly,” Donnie chuckled, sounding distracted.

“What about Leo?” You asked, causing Raph’s curiosity to peak. “He does some sort of purring thing when he’s around Layla.”

“Yeah. What about it?” Donnie seemed to be wary of where the conversation was going. Which, in turn, had Raph worried.

“Well, have you ever heard Raph make that noise?” 

Raph internally groaned. He had hoped you didn’t hear him chur in the dojo, but apparently, you had.

“Not really, no.” 

Raph sighed, thankful his brothers hardly ever heard the embarrassing noise out of him.

“Oh,” you sounded disappointed. “What’s it mean, then?”

“Uh...Well, you see- um-” Raph peeked around the corner to see Donnie was doing everything in his power to not look you in the eye. You were making it difficult, though, constantly moving in front of him to gain his attention. Raph barely kept his chuckle from bubbling up- glad it wasn’t him. “That’s not really something that we- uh- like to talk about.”

“It’s not?” You asked innocently.

“Right. It’s kind of…,” Donnie sighed in defeat. “Personal.”

Raph took that as his cue to interrupt, pretending he hadn’t heard a thing. “Hey, Donnie. I got a question for ya.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Donnie mumbled before giving his brother a sly grin. “What a coincidence, Raph. Y/n has a question for you.”

Raph’s heart sped up in a panic- betrayed by his own flesh and blood. Not that he could blame Donnie, it wasn’t his fault you were so curious, so troublesome, so adorable in that oversized shirt. Not that he was looking at you. He couldn’t without embarrassing himself, so he looked past you. At the interesting vial of goo behind you.

“N-no I don’t,” you stuttered out, eyes shifting toward the exit as you rambled. “No questions here, haha. I mean, do ya think Mikey’s back? You know what, nevermind. I’ll go check. Bye!”

The guys watched you leave in amusement. The moment you were out of earshot Raph turned to his brother, churring uncontrollably.

“Oh you��ve got it bad, don’t you,” Donnie grinned.

“How do I make it stop,” Raph’s eyes bugged out, panting.

“How do you usually stop it?”

“Holdin’ my breath.”

“Well, you can’t do that all night. You’ll pass out.”

“Naw, ya think?” Raph’s chur turned into an aggravated growl.

“Maybe don’t try to stop it?”

“Wha’? Are ya crazy!” Raph’s arms flailed at his sides. “She’ll hear it.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“Yeah, it’s embarrassin’.”

“Maybe telling her won’t make it so daunting. Once she knows that it means something positive-”

“Positive?” Raph’s fists clenched.

“Yeah,” Donnie shrugged. “If you put it in the most vague terms, anyway.”

“Like?” Raph growled threateningly low.

“Just tell her it means you’re happy. That should keep her off both of our backs.”

“Happy?” Raph thought for a moment before gently nodding. “Yeah...I guess tha’ could work. Thanks Don.”

“No problem, Ra-” Donnie turned around to see his brother was already gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Step Three

[cosmiccandydreamer]

Stability Chapter 10

Otis Driftwood x Reader

Author note: Yes this is another flashback chapter, I had so much fun doing the last chapter I decided to expand more. This chapter is pretty long so thanks for sticking with the story so far💜

You're 21 now and looking out the window at the beautiful orange and deep red sunset. It's been 3 years since the incident at the bar. And since then the family has told you more about the comings and goings that happened there. You of course were shocked at first and widely taken aback.Your moral compass was definitely damaged considering the fact that you were very biased to the family due to the fact that you were pretty much part of this family. 

They never asked you to participate but now that you were aware of the knowledge that they were hiding from you they hid it a lot less. though this sounds like this would have been an inconvenience It actually was quite refreshing because now you felt that you had more freedom walking around the house and there was less censorship in your presence.

You even started working at Captain's Spalding's gas station a couple days a week, who himself was thrilled at the fact that you were now aware of what was going on and that you seem to be taking it very well. "I always had a feeling you did alright with weird" he said. "I remember that time you brought home that squirrel skeleton with the baby and you tried to glue it back together or something. That's when I was like this girl's going to be either a taxidermy or some weird shit". You laughed spraying more Windex on the display case. "How's your old man by the way? ``he asked, counting the money in the drawer. This is pretty much the only gas station that your father used when he was filling up in between his truck stops. 

"You tell me he talks to you a lot more than he talks to me. I actually haven't seen him for maybe a week and a half." "Oh well now little darling don't get sad your old man's a good man. He just doesn't know how to be a daddy you know?". You just hummed in agreement, not really wanting to go any further on the subject." I'm sad about finishing up the last of my courses at that school a couple cities away What are you going to do without me here?" You said in a chuckle to hide the fact you were incredibly sad about leaving the family.

 "Well shit I'm going to be lost without ya but it won't be long before you're back". "I asked Baby and Otis to come and see me. They said they'll try but Otis said he doesn't like to be seen out in public too much especially in a big city. I mean I get it but I'm going to miss them and you of course". You stood up and brushed off your pants, sighing deeply. "Yeah Otis is not one for being in the city You might be able to get Baby to come down it's hard to get her to focus and she's not really a good driver but I'll try to bring them down at least once to see you and I'll try to call you you know and feel free to call me at anytime You know my number you know where I'm at." He walked around the counter and gave you a big hug "we need at least one of us in this family to be educated so you go get them smarts". 

The day you packed up your truck Baby helped you, You told her that you were in a hurry so you couldn't wait for Otis to get done with whatever he was doing to say goodbye and that you'll call the house later. Truth be told there was a lump growing in your throat at the thought of leaving. The two of you had only gotten closer,late nights of him showing you his work and talking to you about anything really that popped into his mind. You also notice how jealous you got when you knew he was out with one of Charlie's girls.

 You also noticed that whenever you brought up any boys that you may have seen around town that might be attractive he always scoffed and said "there ain't no good boys in this town bunch of fucking idiots". You would secretly hope that's because he was jealous but you weren't sure if it's due to jealousy or the fact that he was just protective of you. 

You settled into your classes pretty fast even making a couple friends in some of them. After about 3 to 4 months you would call the house every weekend and talk to the baby for hours. You would also talk to Otis but he was usually interrupted by being yelled at by someone mostly doing the yelling. He never brought up if he had any attraction to you and you decided it wasn't good to bring it up either You're silly schoolgirl crush was probably just that and you just started to accept that I mean he was so much older than you What would he want in you? He probably saw you as a child. 

You had struck up an acquaintance ship with an attractive young man in your political science class. Due to being an accelerated semester you were only going to be in the course with each other for about 3 months. You came to find out that his name was Dayton and that he was very smart. At the end of the semester he has asked you on a date, you told him you had to think about it, a small flash of hurt appeared across his face "it's not that there's anything wrong with you it's just I don't know if I have time to date anybody right now and I'm late calling home I will give you a ring later though okay?" You asked heading toward your room "ok y/n um yeah call me whenever" he said and headed the opposite way. when you reach the back to your dorm you rang the Firefly's house, discuss what you learned today in political science with Otis. Mama Firefly answered when you called, she was over the moon to hear from you. 

After talking for a while you asked her if Otis was home, because you had agreed to talk at 6:30. "Oh I'm sorry sugar dumpling but he's at Charlie's but Baby is home wanna talk to her?" Your stomach twisted, he blew off your phone conversation to go fuck a whore? Well that cleared up anything you were wondering about how he felt.. "Actually Mama, I think I have someone on call waiting. Can you tell Baby I'll call her tomorrow?" "Sure thing honey we miss you!" "Miss you too mama" you hung up the phone and called another number "hey Dayton I think I am free for dinner after all". 

When Otis returned home he immediately hurried over where the phone was. Was he too late? She said 8:30 right? He rang your dorm number before hanging it up hard when you didn't answer. Fuck it he thought and headed to the kitchen for a beer. "Oh Otis!" Y/n called for you I told her you were at Charlie's" Mama's voice ran out from the living room as he passed. 

"Wait when did she call and you told her what?!" He angrily asked whipping his head out "I was out with Cutter and it was 8:30 she was supposed to call" " mmm hmm well honey she said 6:30 but then she said she said she had another call so she's gonna call back tomorrow" she replied looking back toward her show. He swallowed his annoyance and stomped back upstairs after grabbing his beer, god why the fuck did he care?! And why did he rush over here just to shoot the shit with you on the phone.. "god dammit" he thought to himself "fucking God dammit". 

The date went well to your surprise, dinner was lovely followed by a fun conversation (or debate) depending on who you ask. You started to wonder if you had wasted time pining over the idea of Otis being interested in you and maybe you should focus on someone your own age. You didn't call the house for the rest of the week, Baby left some messages on your answering machine as well as Spalding. Nothing from Otis though, A small part of you was disappointed. You eventually called Baby back and you had told her how you went on a date with a nice young man. She was happy for you and wanted to hear every detail. You asked about Otis and she said he was in a mood right now so it's best not to bug him. 

Otis had walked by the room when he heard Baby talking to you on the phone, He heard that you had gone out with a young man. Good for her he thought, the sooner I get the idea of her out of my head the better she's a fucking kid anyway. He decided to head to Charlie's and relieve some tension. He thought he got you out his head at least for the time being, that was until he found himself picking the girl who had your hair color, your eyes and around the same height. Walking into the prostitutes room he pictured your face, god dammit he thought to himself as he shut the door behind him. 

You had gone on a couple more dates with Dayton. So far he had been a perfect gentleman. One night after a particularly wonderful date You had both ended up back at your place. You've never gone fully all the way You had kissed and stuff a couple of boys around town but nothing ever lasted, You were nervous and you let him know that you were not experienced in this department. He kept reassuring you that it was going to be fine and that he would take care of you. It almost seemed like he was rushing you a bit to not change your mind but you decided that he was just happy to be close to you. 

You ended up going all the way with him but throughout the ordeal it was not as exciting as you thought it would be. He seemed to be more focused on getting himself off than focusing on you, halfway through you thought to yourself that you would wish he would hurry up.( He was way smaller than he led you to believe *eye roll*.)You also noticed that at one point you found yourself imagining Otis on top of you.. saying you were conflicted was definitely an understatement. 

After that night he left in the morning after falling asleep right after he finished. You got up to the shower and looked at yourself in the mirror. You thought back to the night at the bar and all the other nights that he would spend at the house. You felt so homesick for everyone although your time here in college was fun and you're glad that you experienced it You were starting to wonder if this was really where you wanted to be. The days following after you and Dayton had been intimate you noticed the change in him he was starting to become more aggressive. The sweet demeanor that he had was slowly disappearing to someone who was controlling and short-tempered. He was starting to insist that he stayed over every night even when you told him that you had studying to do and that you did not want to be distracted. He had pressured you for sex again to which you declined and said that you are still recovering from your last session. He began to grow more impatient, He also started to dictate what he wanted you to wear and what he wanted you to eat.

 At this point it only been about 3 weeks since you guys had become a couple. You decided that it was moving too fast. The final straw was when you were about to eat a bagel and he slapped it out of your hand and said Don't you think you've had enough? You're gaining a little bit of weight. You hadn't told anyone at the house about the situation because you didn't want them to worry, now that the semester was ending you decided that it was time to head back home and decide what you want to do with your life.You weren't as happy here as you thought you were going to be. 

You decided to break the news to Dayton that you wanted to just remain friends You made sure to tell him while you were on the way to class so he would have a reason not to linger and make a scene because he was starting to show he also has signs of having an anger problem.He would have outbursts at the most smallest things and seemed to blame you for them. After telling him that you just wanted to be friends you hurried away from him before he could start an argument You could see the anger and confusion and his eyes but you knew you had to get away before he got upset. Part of was worried that he would hit you but you also thought maybe you were being paranoid either way you didn't want to take that chance so you hurried away from him as soon as possible You felt bad about breaking up with him this way but it seemed like the right thing to do. 

Heading back to your room You saw that the phone was ringing You assumed it was Dayton so you decided not to answer it You were already tired and stressed enough You didn't really didn't want to have a debate about the relationship. The machine picked it up "ah hey there kitten or ah y/n guess I shouldn't call you that no more cus you got a boyfriend I and I don't know if he's the jealous type or whatever and all, anyway just wanted to see how ya doing and if you forgot us rednecks over here, I guess I'll let…" it was Otis! Hearing his voice your heart skipped a beat you nearly fell right on your face rushing to grab the phone. "Hey! Hi Otis'' you were out of breath from running to grab the phone but tried to chill out so he didn't notice. "I'm glad you called I've missed you". "I've missed you too darlin. How's the big ol fancy city treating you? Ain't the same without you here Baby is driving me nuts man". 

You hadn't noticed until you felt a cold wet tear hit your hand that you were crying. Hearing his voice had ripped at your heart more intensely than you had anticipated..fuck you missed him. "I'm thinking about coming home for a while I actually might be able to submit my final paper through the mail but maybe you can look over it it's political science so you know stupid government stuff but thought you'd be interested". You said that last sentence so fast it nearly took all your breath. "Shit I would love too when you come home? I gotta make sure I get all my projects out the way so we can dedicate the entire afternoon to it. I'm sure there's a lot I have to unteach you about what they're trying to tell you is the truth". You laughed there was the Otis you knew. "Plus I know Baby and mama are gonna be excited for you to come home. They are gonna want to make a big deal." Coming home… that's when it hits you… that was home they were home.

"Well I was thinking" your sentence got interrupted by a very aggressive knock on the door. "Oh ah hold on Otis That might be campus security they seem to be knocking on the door very hard". He walked over to open the door still holding the phone Otis held the phone in his shoulder as he took out his knife and started sharpening it, might as well multitask. "Hi is everything ok officer.. oh hey Dayton" your voice fell at the end Otis heard it too, he sat up a little straighter listening more intensely. "I didn't like how we left our conversation earlier." He stated with his hands in his pockets mo"I understand I may have been kinda mean to you lately and I'm sorry but I think that's over with now, water under the bridge?"

 He opened his arms as if to ask for a hug but he also seemed to be clenching his teeth slightly as well trying to hold in his anger, "thank you Dayton that's very sweet and of course no hard feelings thanks for taking this so well, I'm afraid I have to go though I'm on the phone with family but you have a good night" as you went to close the door he stopped it with his foot. "Maybe you don't understand me.. no one rejects me" he snarled trying to push the door more open. "Dayton you should go" you started trying to not look so frightened but truth be told this was terribly frightening. Otis stood up and while holding the phone in his shoulder while looking for his gun,knife and keys. Who the fuck was this kid talking to you like that? He thought to himself, fuck this kid. 

That's when his stomach sank and his blood boiled over.. he heard something he never wanted to hear again, you screamed out of fear and dropped the phone "y/n"! He yelled into the phone over and over but you didn't answer. He wasted no time in running downstairs to where Baby was. He was practically screaming in her face what's the name of that college that you're at and what does she know about this kid Dayton. She quickly told him and then asked him what the problem was. He ignored her instead searching for Rufus and telling him that he has something to take care of with him. He grabbed the keys and hurried out of the house. He had never driven so fast in his life, Rufus kept a look out for the cops as they sped down the highway. He didn't really have a plan for when he got there other than he wanted to teach that kid a lesson. 

You had dropped the phone to press your entire body weight against the door to prevent Dayton from coming inside your dorm. It was difficult Because he was so much larger than you. "Go away Dayton!!!!" You screamed "someone help someone!!" You frantically repeated hopefully someone would walk by and see the commotion."open the door you bitch!!" He screamed pushing it with all his weight, you leaned down grabbed the phone right as he was able to push his face into the doorway, you hit him as hard as you could in the face with it, he staggered back in pain as you pushed the door fully closed. You grabbed the phone again, "Otis!" You screamed into it before realizing the other line was dead. 

Wasting no time to figure out what was happening on his end you dialed campus security. You heard Dayton attempting to break down your door by slamming into it. You started to cry angry frustrated tears. Why can't he just go away?!. "Hello hello is anyone there," campus security asked, finally connecting on the other end. You hurried to explain the situation to campus security who urged you to stay on the line as they came to your dorm. Unfortunately Dayton had run off before they could come. They assured you they would be checking in on you and keeping an eye out for him. You nodded and curled up in the bathroom with the door locked which was the only place you felt safe. "I wish Otis was here" you thought to yourself. 

Little did you know he was, his brother and him drove as fast as they could and ended up on the compass in no time. He didn't know what Dayton looked like besides the shitty description from Baby. "What are we gonna do when we find him?" Rufus asked. He was worried about you as well but he didn't want to start something that would get you expelled. "We're not going to do anything but teach the boy a lesson that's all" Otis replied. "Scare him straight". 

As much as Otis wanted to do unspeakable things to him Rufus was right This is not the place to do it especially if he was seen associated with you. As luck would have it they happened to see a young man fitting the description who looked like he was in a hurry with some bags and other materials. He seems to be trying to flee the campus as fast as possible. "I think that's our guy" Rufus said.Otis rubbed his hands together in anticipation. They slowly walked over to where he was loading up his small car. Rufus came up behind him and asked him for directions when he turned around to give a snarky response to him just as  Otis threw a bag over his head and pulled him into the bushes. 

Dayton struggled and tried to scream as Rufus held him, Otis shut him up quickly though pulling out his large hunting knife and pressing it up to his neck. "Hey there you pig faced rat nose son of a bitch, I'ma need you to listen and listen good if you ever so much as breathe in the same direction as y/n again I will cut off your I assume very small balls and shove them down your throat". Dayton didn't answer, he just started to shake and suddenly tears began running down his face. "Oh shit this boy is crying!!! Hahaha! Little pussy ass bitch". Otis laughed pointing at him. Rufus walked over and pointed a gun in his face,"you understand us boy? You come near y/n again it's all bad for you". "I understand" he stuttered over and over again. They grabbed him and pushed him into the mud, exploding in laughter. 

Heading back to the truck there laughter echoed throughout the campus. You looked up and could have sworn that you heard a slight hint of Otis'h voice through your bathroom window. "Is that Otis? No no way my mind is making me imagine things''. The next day after getting approval from the Dean that you were able to mail in the rest of your assignment you loaded up your truck and headed back to Ruggsville. Passing the gas station as you entered into town you felt relief wash over you. You were finally home.

[sometimes-love-is-enough]

meat!

well that seems like a fairly conclusive response (only one person voted for just candy). you did this to yourselves

Title: soma

Summary: What’s that thing people say about ignorance?

Notes:

This takes into account and is somewhat of a followon to the stuff established in these three remixes of melliferous, so if you’re confused, i am SO sorry. it’s not that much better from this end of things, trust me.

less of an epilogue, more of an addition or maybe a series of vignettes in the melliferous multiverse. because apparently that’s a thing now. this is dubiously canon. take it as you will.

Warnings: for the usual melliferous content – bugs and drugs, death, unreality, body horror, cannibalism. And also corpse desecration, and dismemberment! If any of these even vaguely seem like they might upset you, please turn back now.

For I was hungry, and I ate you. I was thirsty, and I drank you. [sic] – Matthew 25:35

*

i.

“You know what’s bugging me?” Thomas says, millions of cycles into all of this, and two swiftly-downed shot glasses into the last of Lady Seph’s newest round of stock.

“Haha, bugs.” Patton lowers his glass of starfire briefly to give a weak fingergun in Thomas’s direction. “Because – you know, everything’s bugs down here for some reason?”

Logan is halfway to drunk and halfway to dead already. It’s just one of those lifetimes. The fact that’s he’s mostly dust and barely able to hold up his glass does not, however, stop him from theorizing, “You know, it really is entirely possible that they aren’t actually insects, and their carapacian forms are a result of some form of convergent evolution.”

“Stop trying to apply logic to them,” Roman moans. He makes a face and raises a sleeve to his mouth to try to scrub the taste of honey off of his tongue. It lingers strangely, sweetly. “Haven’t you ever heard of willing suspension of disbelief? We’re not meant to understand this.”

Remus is dissolving. But cheerfully. “Yeah, it’s more fun this way!”

“For a certain definition of fun, sure,” is Virgil’s muttered take.

“Or maybe the evolution path was divergent in form. A potential split somewhere along the line, dividing from beings of a celestial persuasion into what we find ourselves as today into insectoid and humanoid, both created in their image...”

“It does appear that God has an inordinate fondness for beetles,” says Janus. “Holistically, that is.”

Thomas frowns. “...Guys, are we having oblique yet resonant Socratic dialogue again?”

“When are we not? Someone check for cameras, I’d hate for this one to go up online, unedited,” Janus replies, somewhat sardonically, and raises his own glass. “Refill, if you would.”

A flurry of flowers, a fluttering of wings, and good old Auntie Seph is back again with another bottle of gods-knows-what. “Y’all ain’t sticking around for long this time, huh?”

“A few more minutes, maybe,” Virgil confirms as she passes by and swishes back into the darkness of the bar to continue her evening rounds. “I think I’m really going off steak at this point, honestly.”

“What were you saying, Thomas?” Roman asks, trying to sit up straighter. “Something bugging you? Something you can’t quite, um – ”

“Bee-lieve?” Patton supplies.

“Sure. Uh. The steak,” Thomas says. “I had some this time, you know? It was...” He struggles for words.

“Delicious,” Virgil says with a grimace.

“Remarkably well-seasoned for something drenched in honey and not much else,” Roman comments, who had also partaken in the steak this time around for some unknown, unknowable reason.

“Human!” Remus crows, teeth flashing white in the dimness of the lowly-lit bar. “Soylent Green is people! Or did I make that joke already...?”

“We all knew it was human flesh, Remus,” Logan sighs, listing even further sideways. “It’s not as if there are any cows down here to harvest the steak from, let alone any other animals. And if you examine the entomology and feeding habits of the American vulture bee – ”

“The humans around here don’t look very, um. Meaty,” Thomas says. “Just saying. It’s – they’re – ”

“Hollow? They would be,” Janus points out. “In case you haven’t noticed, the bees are sucking them dry. They’re all essentially husks.”

“So where does she get the steak from?” Thomas asks again, and nobody has an answer for them, most likely because they’re all far too busy shrivelling away into the darkness.

“Oh, never mind,” Patton yawns. “We’re dead anyway. What does it matter?”

“...Good point. I’ll work it out next time.” Thomas studies the bar with bleary eyes. The faded photographs and portraits on the walls, the legions of shades drinking in their usual solemn silence. “So where do you go when you die if you’re already in hell?”

“Hell 2,” Remus suggests, slumping against the bar, “This Time With More Capitalism.”

“Not too loud, you’ll give my wife ideas,” Seph tells them from across the bar, and raises her glass to them. A farewell toast. “And don’t you think too hard about the steak thing. You’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

And then it’s dust to dust, and the wheel begins to turn again.  

*

ii.

The party’s in full swing when Virgil says to Thomas, quite frankly, “I hate parties.”

The lights are bright above them. The air is fresh with the birth of spring, and the music is loud and ringing through the air like a hailing chorus fit for the arrival of a queen.

Thomas clears his throat after a moment. “Okay, not that I don’t appreciate the commentary... but, uh, Virge-?”

“I’m here because you’re anxious,” Virgil supplies, folding his arms and resting his head on top of them. “Parties, man. Just stay home and browse Netflix for the millionth time, why don’t you?”

“It’s good for me to get out, and also, I’m pretty sure you don’t need to be here for me to be anxious. It happens anyway. That wasn’t what I was going to ask.” He rests his hand on a nearby tree and watches Logan and Patton attempting to reconcile their two extremely different ideas of ‘dancing’, on the fly, on the dance floor. “...Why are you sitting on my shoulders?”

“I like being tall,” replies Virgil.

“Hm,” says Thomas. “Okay, fair enough.”

Janus is over in the far corner chatting with the grinning man; the one with the hat and the constantly-in-motion wings and the laugh like the rattling of a lock clicking open. They’re talking about car chases and unlikely escapes and flights into the night, they’re comparing false identities and secrets they’ve never told anyone else; they’re lying wildly to each other.

On top of a table of cakes and sweetmeats piled high to the heavens, Remus perches and engages in deep, fascinated conversation with a lady whose crystal-cut eyes shine in the bright sunlight. They speak of rot, of rebirth, of blazing heat and screaming cold.  Her wings are familiar. Nothing else about her is. That’s another story, though, one to be told later.

“Well, this is new,” says Seph, sauntering over. A crooked flower crown rests in her hair with all the colors of spring, and the wine glass her long spindly fingers are curled securely around seems to be filled with actual proper honest-to-god wine. Her eyes are bright, her coat is long, her wings are radiant. “Now, what brings a scattered disaster of a man like you to a party like this?”

Thomas blinks. Virgil’s arms, looped loosely around the top of his head, tighten. “I’m... sorry, do I know you?”

“In a roundabout sort of way, maybe,” she replies, and swirls the wine before slurping it up with that long, long tongue of hers. “Lady of the spring, at your service. You here by invite, or-?”

“Hey, I can’t actually remember how we got here,” Virgil mutters into Thomas’s hair.

Thomas hovers, suddenly extremely worried. “Should I. Like. Leave?”

“Not a worry. The blooming of spring is a party for everyone,” she says wisely, and then grins wide and sharp and tosses her empty glass to one side, where it shatters into crystal shards and light. “‘Specially me. Even if I’m late. ‘Specially if I’m late. Have you tried the food? It’s to die for, and for once ya don’t even have to die to eat it!”

“...Is this a fairy ring?” Virgil says suspiciously, peering down at her from his perch on Thomas’shoulders. “You legally have to tell us if it’s a fairy ring, otherwise it’s entrapment.”

Seph laughs. “Naw. Different story, that. Don’t worry too much about the details, just have fun – it ain’t gonna last for very long.” She adjusts the flowers adorning her head, tucking chrysanthemum blooms back to stop them falling over her eyes, and extends a hand in Thomas’s direction. Her long fingers wiggle; an invitation. “Here, come on and dance, kiddo, while we’ve still got the time.”

Virgil sighs and complains but gets down from Thomas’s shoulders with a catlike tumble that leaves him crouched on the ground, and he claps Thomas on the shoulder before going to join Remus.

Seph isn’t any threat. Not here, not to them. She’s a friend, in a roundabout sort of way.

“All right,” says Thomas. “So, let’s dance.”

The music blares, rising with brass and percussion and strings struck with purpose and energy both. Out onto the dance floor with them, and into the fray. Seph dances like she drinks – careless and wild; sloppy but purposeful. She whirls them around, cackling in time with the music-from-nowhere, kicking up her heels in the dirt. She’s a different person entirely, up here, full of light and laughter and a kind of rusted-and-rough love for everything around her.

Thomas lets her lead and lets her swing and swirl him around in mad spirals, wild and free as a honeybee in a summertime frame of mind. They laugh and yell and stomp and he thinks he might have started to sing along at some point, although there’s no earthly way he should know the words.

“But what about the steak?” Thomas asks as she pulls away and he stumbles back, dizzy and high on the thrill of life.

“What about the steak?” she replies, and there’s another glass of wine in her hand already. “Don’t you know what they say about ignorance? See you when winter comes around, sugar. Let’s hope we get it right this time, hey?”

*

iii.

Virgil sits and goes at it with a fork-and-knife, breaking the steak up into bite-sized chunks. It’s tough and he has to saw a bit to cut through. Juices bubble and spill across his plate, honey pooling in concentric little patterns. The centre of it is red-rare; just like he likes. He spears a chunk with his fork, and holds it to his lips.

He doesn’t take a bite.

He says, “I don’t get why we have to do this.”

Remus says, “Sure you do, it’s what we do every time. I say ‘funny how it doesn’t feel like much of a choice at all’, and you say – ”

“This is some sort of cycle, isn’t it? Some kind of loop.”

“Uh, no?” Remus puts down his steak. (He doesn’t bother using the knife. His hands are sticky with honey and meat-juice. Although the honey is a kind of meat-juice too, if you think about it.) “You’ve never said that before. Usually it’s something sardonic to hide the fact that’s you’re extremely freaked out.”

“Remus,” says Virgil thoughtfully, still staring at his fork.

“Mm?”

“How often are you aware of the fact that we’re stuck in some kind of horrible time loop cycle?”

“Oh, only when it’s funny,” says Remus, and tears off a long, thick strip of meat from his meal with his back teeth.

“Right,” says Virgil. “Right, okay.” He pauses. “So, have we figured out where the steak comes from yet, or..?”

“Shh,” says Remus, sloppily raising a filthy-sweet finger to Virgil’s lips. “Don’t spoil the moment, Great Skittish Bake-Off. I never get invited over for family dinner, this is a novelty.”

“Gosh, I wonder why,” Virgil mutters, but shuts up and eats his damned steak like a good little cog in the machine.

*

iv.

“Okay, here’s another question,” Thomas says, tossing a stone into the Styx. It doesn’t make a sound, mainly because an infinite number maggots don’t tend to have much surface tension to break. “When you all went and decided ‘right, time to go get Thomas back from being extremely dead’...”

“Mm?” says Janus, sorting through their makeshift tacklebox with an absent look on his face.

“...Do you want to explain why your first thought was let's go to hell?”

Patton acquires an extremely shifty look on his face, and doesn’t reply. Instead, he casts his fishing line high and wide, and nods approvingly as the hook and lure and end of the line disappear into the seething mass of maggots.

“What are you even fishing for,” Virgil complains, trying to smudge excess honey off his clothes. “More maggots? It’s not like there’s any fish in that whole mess.”

“You don’t know that,” insists Patton, stubbornly optimistic. “There might be fish.”

“Dead fish, maybe,” Logan says dryly.

“Guys, no, seriously. What specifically did I do to make you think I was in hell. I mean, you weren’t wrong, but I – I really desperately need to know your reasoning, come on, don’t just – ”

Remus lies on his stomach several distance away. He’s also fishing, but he’s doing it with his bare hands. Which doesn’t seem very safe or sanitary, but stopping him would probably be more trouble than it’s worth. “Maybe he’s fishing for the steak,” he suggests.

“That’s even more unlikely than the fish,” Roman replies, snorting.

“Eh. ‘Bout as likely as anything that goes on down here.” Remus makes a wild swipe into the river and comes up with a bloody fistful of maggots. “Just saying. Maybe that’s how she gets her hands on the meat. She dredges through the river and pulls out the people that fell in and fries them all up for dinner, sweet and hot.”

“If the maggots don’t get to them first,” Virgil points out.

Remus holds up his hand obligingly, letting everyone see that his fistful of maggots are currently going absolutely to town on the meat of his hand. Bone is gleaming through the raw-hamburger mess of red and more red.

“I thought maggots only went for dead flesh,” Patton hums, and jolts as his fishing rod jerks and bends, straining against some pressure on the other end of the rod.

“Patton,” says Thomas glumly, having resigned himself to the fact that nobody at all is planning to answer his extremely pertinent and important question, “I have to break this to you, I really do, but we are all extremely dead.”

“Oh, yeah,” Patton says, reeling in his catch. “Ha! I keep forgetting about that, would you believe it? Now, I wonder what I caught...”

The catch is maggots. It’s all maggots, down there. Some are much livelier than others, but still maggots. Not that any of that’s going to stop Patton, though. What’s that thing people tend to say about hope?

*

v.

Back straight, hands clasped, chair pulled up tight as it can go to the lip of the kitchen table. His leg jitters on the underside of the table, his nervousness invisible in the darkness.

“I just want to see,” Thomas says.

Missus Hades hums lowly to herself, before raising her cigarette up and away, letting the smoke peel off towards the dark ceiling tiles. The lights buzz, or maybe that’s the bees. “You really won’t like what you find, you know.”

“Let me guess,” says Virgil, pressed up tight in the corner like he’s trying to melt into Thomas’s side. “We never do.”

“Don’t know about that,” she says. “Far as I’m aware, you’ve never asked. I just know you’re really not going to like it.”

The smoke doesn’t smell scratchy and musty in the way that Thomas expects cigarette-smoke to smell. It’s like a bonfire. Maybe a bit floral. A hint of nostalgia to it.

“We’ve been doing this for so long,” Logan says. The lighting in here does weird things to his glasses, makes them all honey-red-shiny and alien. He doesn’t come in here often, never has. “If it doesn’t impact us, surely there’s no harm in telling us. And if it does, we really would like to know.”

Missus Hades leans sideways, bends down to skritch-scratch one of her larger-than-average pets behind its ears, or where its ears would be. They seem to enjoy it, at the very least. Her smile is sideways and strange and barely genuine. “Now what’s that they say about curiosity, again?”

“There’s no cats down here,” Roman points out. “Just bees.”

“An unholy amount of bees,” Janus mutters, shifting back into the shadows. He never seems to like Hades’s house. Not that any of them do, but – well.

“Fine,” says Hades, and stubs out her cigarette, crushing it under the heel of one shining chitinous hand. “Now, follow me, and don’t you go and say I didn’t warn you.”

You’d think that the layout of Missus Hades’s house would be simple, looking at it from the outside. But two hallways down and two stairways up and three right turns (and not necessarily in that order, either) and none of them could even begin to recall how to get to where they’re going.

It’s in the middle of a hallway like any other, in fact. Just another room in a house far too vast for one person to live in alone. Looks like she and her wife haven’t quite fixed things up properly, not this time around, but oh well. There’s always time and there’s always next time.

The door is locked and the door is solid metal. Not a lot of metal down here, come to think of it, not in the buildings. It’s just for the garden gates and the deadbolts, and anything made to keep people out.

Hades fishes for keys in the deep thick pockets of her long skirts. Thomas watches, and so do everyone else. They’re all here, which is nice – it doesn’t happen all the time, but it’s better when they’re all together.

“All right,” says Hades, and the door unlocks with a click. She pushes it open, flicks on the lights, and steps back.

It’s clean; almost obsessively tidy. The knives are sharp and shiny, the equipment not new but definitely well-maintained. The butcher knows what she’s doing. It would almost be pristine if it weren’t for the bloodied countertop and the source of the meat, which is –

Thomas takes an instinctive step back.

There is a pile of him on the ground, in various states of decay and dismemberment.

He recognizes the shirts, even. Lots of flowers. He’s always liked the flower shirts. His gaze travels sideways, to the countertop where a new steak is being prepared.

Oh. All right.

Okay.

“I really don’t know what I expected,” Thomas says.

Hades shrugs; the shifting of a mountain. Her face is impassive, although she seems to be watching him closely. “Neither do I, if I’m completely honest.”

Virgil says, “I’m going to go throw up now,” and does. He at least goes to do it outside, which is kind of him. The smells’ awful enough in here as it is.  

“I’ve heard of eating your heart out, but...” Patton trails off, and winces, going pale. “...Nevermind. I’m going to go join Virgil.”

“Well, hey,” says Remus. “It kind of makes sense. You are what you eat, you know?”

“Remus,” says Logan flatly. “Please shut up.”

“You don’t like me much, do you?” Thomas asks.

Hades tilts her head; her version of a startled blink. She sounds genuinely confused when she asks, “What makes you say that?”

“You are repeatedly carving up Thomas’s lifeless remains to serve to variations on his personality as a last meal,” Logan summarizes, rather succinctly – his steady voice a neat counterpoint to the whiteness of his knuckles and the faint trembling of his lips. “Are you telling me that is how you treat people you hold any sort of affection for?”

“You were hungry,” comes the reply. “I never forced you to eat, only served you the meal. Why for the love of all things above and below would that mean I hold any sort of animosity towards you? I don’t not like you, Thomas Sanders. And trust me, if I disliked you, you’d know about it.”

Logan stares at her for a long, long moment, and then turns on his heel and walks out of the room as fast as he can.

After a moment, Roman follows, not even saying a word.

Janus takes Thomas’s arm, and steers him out of the butchery. “Next time, let’s pick something other than the steak to fixate on, hm?” he says, voice entirely too calm.

“Hm, I’ll drink to that,” Thomas agrees, letting himself be steered. “And drink. And drink. And keep on drinking. Hey, let’s go to Seph’s right now; I feel like developing a major alcohol dependency for the sake of my own mental health. Who’s with me?”

They pretty much all are, not that it matters. This time around is going to be over soon enough, just like the others, and it really is completely up to chance whether any of them will remember this, or will remember it in time, or will even care.

Hades, alone in the butcher’s room, picks up a clean knife. She weighs it from side to side, thoughtful. She doesn’t exactly understand all the fuss – meat is meat, after all, no matter where it comes from. She doesn’t regret sharing the information, only that her wife may be upset by the fallout.

She’s wearing her nice clothes, and she never likes staining the gold and white – it’s absolute hell to get out, and she of all people knows that’s not an exaggeration – so she replaces the knife and casts one last glance around the room before turning and stepping out with the shift shift shift of moving fabric and the gentle clik-clak of boots on marble floor.

The light clicks off.

The smell of meat lingers.

*

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Eight

Ao3,  Masterpost,  C.1   C.2   C.3   C.4   C.5   C.6   C.7

Relationships: queer-platonic intruality, mentioned platonic relationships.

Second chapter of the night, babe! I’m really going for it with finishing this story!! mostly no italics as is my usual, because tumblr Sucks <3 

Warnings: cursing, brief true-crime talk, sexual innuendo, depressive episodes, crying, LOTS of h/c, mentions of past neglect (ok neglect is a really strong word it isn’t that bad, but, idk what to call it), touch-starvation, honestly though this is a ridiculously fluffy chapter guys. 

Word count: 5,618

In three weeks, Patton and Remus had gone from borderline insomnia to a sleep schedule that could’ve impressed even Logan. 

And in three weeks, neither had spent a single night alone.

The talk they’d had after their first sleepover ended up leaving more of an impact than either had realized. Maybe it should’ve been expected: they were both accustomed to saying exactly what they meant, exactly how they meant it, and any sort of vow to ‘never let go’ couldn’t be used lightly for two creatures like that. 

So, independently, they both decided to be as literal as they could about it. God, were they clingy.

But it worked better than anything. There was less aching, more talking, and if they were feeling better, the whole Mindpalace improved. Something something, the delicate ecosystem of the human mind, blah blah. 

And then it worked too well. 

Neither of them really knew what had happened, or how to feel about it (it might have been sad or strange that neither had ever had anything to compare it to, but if asked, they’d both say that’s what made it so special. They’d be right to say so, of course). It was what they had, together.

It wasn’t romantic- they’d seen romantic, knew it as well as they could, didn’t care for it. But in the end who cared about semantics? It didn’t matter, the reasons why Patton stared after his friend for a little too long, or what was making it so hard for Remus not to kiss his pal smack on the lips every time he smiled. Another thing that didn’t matter was the why in response to how they still hadn’t talked about it, but… Patton and Remus had resolved that as a problem for another time.

What mattered was that it just was.

(And another thing that mattered, a little bit, was the how it had happened, and both of them understood that perfectly well.)

Remus lounged on the floor at the foot of his bed, Patton behind and above him. Patton’s fingers were working steadily through his mess of hair, while the pair half-watched TV. They didn’t agree on most shows, and neither of them were especially crazy about arguing, which meant it was twenty minutes of roundabout conversation until they stumbled across something they could mutually zone out to. Whatever. The system worked.

Remus typically preoccupied himself with drawing, painting, or carving some material into something or other (said something-or-other was almost always a knife or a dildo. Occasionally, it was both). 

Patton seemed to favor being distracted by Remus’ hair, though it wasn’t clear why. Remus hadn’t asked; it felt nice, and he was surprised that anyone would actually want to thread their fingers through those oily strings, so why question a good thing? 

Actually, a better question was why not. The thought had stuck in his mind, and he had nothing better to do- art block and all- so. Remus tossed his sketchbook to the side and twisted up to look at Patton.

“Why do you do that?”

Patton glanced down at him. “Do what?”

Remus reached up, prying Patton’s hands out of his hair and holding them up like evidence. Patton blinked at them, and okay, cute- but he looked genuinely surprised by the question. 

“Oh, playing with your hair? I mean, there’s no real reason, I guess it’s just mindless. Something to fidget with, y’know? It’s always all tangled up, too, so it’s like a little puzzle- a puzzle I probably won’t solve all the way ever, but that’s most puzzles with me to be honest,” he smiled brightly, creasing all his laugh lines just right. “Also, um, it feels nice that I get to stay touching you, even if it’s just something small,” he shrugged, sort of sheepishly. “Is that weird?”

But Remus was beaming up at him, definitely looking all sorts of stupid for it, and definitely not caring. He dropped Patton’s hands, letting them find their way back into his coils and matts of hair. 

“You’re asking the wrong guy, Sugar Cookie, but you can keep messing with my hair all you want. It probably is weird, in that case, because I like that you have your hands on me so much-” Jesus Christ it was so hard not to make a sex joke, Remus had to stifle several from breaking his train of thought. Ugh, the things he did for this man. “-And if I like something, it’s 100% freaky!”

Patton just laughed, his nose scrunching up while he ruffled Remus’ hair. 

“That’s- that’s good to know,” an index finger coiled around silver strands, and Patton’s eyes sparkled in the most literal sense, “Hey, Remus?”

Remus let his head rest on the side’s thigh, humming attentively. 

“When you say I can mess with it…”

He looked up with a delightful anticipation, grinning before Patton had even finished his sentence. 

“Can I braid your hair?” The question accompanied by a faint tug at Remus’ scalp, and the feeling of several tangles coming undone, “I’m pretty good at it. Virgil used to let me do his- not so much anymore, but, um. Anyway, yours would be long enough- or maybe longer, if I got these knots out,” he smiled, kindly, “But I know you like having it knotty, so it’s okay if you don’t want me to.”

Remus thought it over, because yeah, he was very proud of his rat’s nest. Besides, he was sure that even if it got straightened out, it’d still be just as greasy as ever- ohh, but that could be a look all on its own, couldn’t it? Maybe he could even weave some garbage into the plait! 

“Sure!” Remus assented, “The rest of me’s naughty enough to make up for the hairdo, so have at ‘er.”

Patton snorted at the pun, obviously excited to get started. When he ushered Remus to turn around, his hands easily undoing clumps of hair with surprising focus, humming to himself all the while, Remus was absolutely certain he’d made the right choice.

It was done in an hour- Patton was slow and careful about every movement. Remus didn’t really mind, though he’d try to assure Patton that it was fine to do it in a hurry, that he wasn’t so sensitive. (Patton didn’t, obviously, ignoring Remus’ comments about how it didn’t even matter because they weren’t real, and pain was a construct. Patton was stubbornly gentle, to the point that Remus couldn’t be annoyed by it. He might even say it was sweet, if he was feeling particularly sappy.)

It had also taken such time because of the decorations Patton had woven into his hair, which he insisted would be surprises. So Remus was bouncing with excitement all the way to the mirror- cuz even though he was sure it wouldn’t be anything like the live bugs, weeds, and dead flowers that he’d had in mind to thread in there himself, he knew it’d at least be pretty. Pretty wasn’t really his thing, sure, but Patton’s brand of pretty? It had grown on him.

The mirror in Remus’ room was chipped, slick with grime, and filled with silhouettes that vanished as soon as you turned around, but it worked just fine. Remus hauled himself over to it, peered in, and okay, he definitely didn’t mind a little bit of pretty.

“You weren’t fucking around when you said you were good at this, Morey!”

In their reflections, Remus saw Patton smile, going a bit pink around the ears. He glanced back to himself, eyes trailing appreciatively down the shoulder-length braid of dark, greasy hair. His grey streak wasn’t twisted in with the rest of the locks, instead it had been left out in front, springy and curly and giving the whole look a messier vibe. The braid itself seemed inky-slick, shot through with glittering hair clips and pins. At first, they looked like plain plastic jewels, but with closer inspection the shapes of tiny beetles, bugs, and moths were unmistakable. They were gorgeous, and probably a better call than putting actual live bugs in his hair; he was less likely to end up eating the sparkly clips, at any rate.

But if all that wasn’t enough, then there were the ribbons. Whip-thin and several in number, they sparkled with enough course glitter to impress a Las Vegas body paint artist. Some were a pukey neon green, and the rest a light, bright-

“Blue?”

Patton met Remus’ eyes, through the mirror again, and the pink slowly traveled from his ears down to his face. He shrugged, grazing the blue-and-green bow where the braid was tied off with the tips of his fingers. 

“I guess I got a little carried away,” he smiled lightly, “I thought it looked nice, with the green.”

Remus looked away from the glass, “You’re not wrong about that,” he muttered.

Patton shrugged, not quite making his eyes. 

“You can take those ones out, if you want to.”

That- the way Patton went flustered and shy and he’d put his colors on Remus- it gave the Duke a very strong urge to do something. The urge pulled at his chest, feeling like cracked ribs in the best way, and it really wasn’t fucking around when it wrapped around his heart and squeezed so tight it felt like it was forcing all the blood right out of him. 

Remus was used to impulses, and the powerful, mind-halting swells of emotion, but this was new and fun and it had jumped out of nowhere even for him. He was staring at Patton, and he had the urge to do something. He would’ve done it, too, if only he knew what the fuck it was that he wanted. 

It had to do with Patton. He should start there, probably.

“I’m gonna keep them in, duh,” Remus replied, finally, and his voice was way louder than it needed to be, “Wouldn’t wanna fuck up the look.” 

Patton glanced at him, smiling self-consciously, and his hand lowered from Remus’ hair to rest on his shoulder. For a moment Remus felt blind, vision white-out and trouble breathing, from whatever the fuck he was feeling, and he just didn’t know what to do.

Then Patton laughed, his ocean eyes squinted, and the burning impulse plummeted to an ache. A giddy, unfamiliar kind of ache. A manageable ache. 

Remus resolved to forget it. He had lots of instincts, and urges, and God knew that not even half of them made sense. It had left, that was what mattered, and he could enjoy the rest of his day with his friend.

He’d never been the type to worry, anyway.

There were days that Patton just… couldn’t make it out of bed. He tried, he really did, but he could only go for so long before it all started crumbling. He’d wake up, and something would just feel wrong, and he’d know that it was a doomed day, but he still made the stubborn effort to save it. Because each time he thought, maybe he’d beat it, maybe he’d make the best of it- and sometimes he did, but most of the time he made it as far as breakfast, and then he was right back in his room by noon to let the depressive episode take over.

So yeah. It was one of Those Days. 

Patton laid in bed, propped up on pillows and stuffed animals with his unfocused eyes staring just above the television. Bad days had been getting rare, and naively, Patton had thought that meant it was over for good. When he woke up that morning, Remus barely stirring beside him, the empty feeling inside was almost ignorable. 

He’d stayed above it for all of two-and-a-half hours before retreating to his room again, this time on his own.

Patton was always alone when he got in one of his moods, and he knew it was better that way. He was no fun at all, just a sad sack of blah, and he knew just how intolerable he ended up being. He couldn’t even tolerate himself.

So each time Patton would tell the other sides that he needed some space alone, and of course they respected that. Roman always hugged him before he left. Virgil checked on him every now and then. Logan, without fail, sent him extra plushies (and sweet snacks, however much he disapproved of unhealthy eating, because he knew how much sugar cheered Patton up). It didn’t fix the ache, but it helped, knowing that people were worried about him. 

But, back to that particular day; the day that left Patton huddled up at the head of his bed with blank, glazed-over eyes; the first day of its kind since Remus had been staying with him. 

It had gotten… harder, somehow. The fact that it had been gone for so long, and he’d been so optimistic, but now it was all back… 

Patton buried his face in the soft fabric of a teddy bear, shaking and crying and feeling so, so, cold.

It went on for a few horrible, horrible minutes, and then there were noises that definitely weren’t sobs. Down the hall; the slamming of a door, followed by distant muttering, and then excited footsteps. Heavy, clunky footsteps. Sounds that brought back acute deja vu, and had Patton glancing up just in time to realize what was about to happen. 

His door swung open, and Remus was grinning at him from the entrance. Patton struggled to put on a smile in time, scrubbing frantically at his eyes. 

“Hey! It’s, like, two o’clock, are you ready?”

Patton blinked up at him, partially in confusion, partially to try and stop the flow of tears. “Ready…?” 

Remus’ face fell a little, and he came forwards into the room. 

“Yeah…” Remus shut the door behind him- with less force than usual- and sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed. He stared intently at Patton, frown deepening all the while, pupils flitting around as he seemed to take in every detail of his friend’s condition. Patton wanted to squirm. “We were gonna- are you okay?” 

He stared dumbly at Remus for a second more, and then it clicked: they had plans today. He could barely remember what they were supposed to do- they’d been talking so quick, so excited, so happy- but Patton was pretty sure it had to do with a new creation of Remus’. 

Which was… something he definitely, definitely didn’t have the energy for. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Patton sat up straight, trying desperately to stop trembling, “I completely forgot, I just- um- I don’t know if I can make it today.”

That sounded bad, didn’t it? Wouldn’t that be the icing on top of the cake, if he hurt Remus’ feelings just because he was wallowing for basically no reason. It probably wouldn’t even be that bad if he sucked it up and went along with it anyway- except Janus kept insisting how bad self-sacrifice was, but- what else was he supposed to do!?

“Oh, it’s okay,” Remus said, not sounding hurt at all. “I’d be more pissed if I thought you were just bailing, and I know you don’t do that, Pat. Plus, you’re obviously upset, so don’t worry about it.”

  Patton glanced up to find him still staring, somehow more intense than before, and much closer than before. He looked- he looked worried. Not upset. Worried. 

“Oh,” Patton looked away again, unable to stand the scrutiny, “Okay.” 

A hand slipped into his, prying open his clenched fist, and he had to stifle a gasp at the touch. Temperature shock, that was the best word for it. Patton shivered. 

“Can I help you?”

Patton’s eyes went wide at the sweet sincerity in Remus’ voice, the way he said it as plainly and openly as he’d say anything else. Even if it wasn’t a big deal, really, with Patton’s emotions in the state that they were, while he was in his room of all places, anything could send him breaking down again.

“I- I don’t, um-” he blinked furiously, had done that a lot since Remus found him; it was beginning to make him feel dizzy. “Nothing’s really wrong…” 

Remus squeezed his hand. 

“Well, what isn’t really wrong?” 

“What?”

“You said nothing’s ‘really’ wrong, so, what’s wrong-but-not-really?”

Patton tipped his head to the side, for a moment more confused than he was aching. “How do you mean?”

But Remus just rolled his eyes- not unkindly- and shrugged. 

“So, you don’t know why you’re all… sad,” the emphasis made Patton wince, “But I figure that being sad at all usually makes other things wrong, too, and I can help with those things! For example-” he pitched forwards suddenly, ruby-reds wide and searching. He sniffed at Patton (probably not for any kind of actual inspection, but it made him laugh, and judging from Remus’ proud little smirk that had been on purpose.) “You had anything to eat? Or, uh, water? Those are supposed to be important.”

Oh, right. That. 

Patton leaned away, pulling his hand out of Remus’ grasp as he flushed abashedly. But he didn’t- well, he wasn’t going to lie to Remus.

“I guess I haven’t, no,” he tried to laugh it off- this didn’t have to be a thing, it didn’t have to be serious, if he kept laughing. If he got Remus to laugh.

But Remus was already standing, and that brought up another very effective solution; if Patton was being depressing, maybe he would just get sick of it and go. 

“Okay, we’ll start there! Wait here, I’ll be back in- ten minutes? Sure, that’s how long it takes to make food,” Remus was muttering half to himself, but it sure as heck didn’t sound like leaving.

“Oh, you don’t have to get me anything!” Patton insisted, because if Remus wasn’t escaping yet, then he wasn’t going to mooch off of his generosity. “Thanks for the reminder, I’ll- I’ll make sure to grab something soon.”

Remus stopped by the door, tipped his head from one side to the other, pretending to think it over.

“Hm. Nah.”

Patton tried to stand, and found that he was somehow too weak for even that much.

“Remus, please, I- I can’t even eat the same stuff as you, anyway! Don’t go through all that trouble for little old me,” he was edging on frantic, and he didn’t know why he was fighting so hard against receiving needed help, but it probably had something to do with Catholicism. 

Remus looked completely bewildered- a funny look, for him- and said:

“I mean, I wasn’t about to feed you hygiene products, or ceramic, or whatever. I know that I eat weird shit, Pat, that’s kind of the point- but I still know how to make a sandwich? And I know how to hold a cup under the sink so that water goes in it?” 

His voice took on a gently mocking tone. Patton glanced away, sheepish, and couldn’t find a response to that beyond a short nod.

Which was all Remus needed as the go-ahead, darting out of the room and down the stairs before Patton could argue any further. 

Patton stared after him, listened to him bustling around downstairs, and tried to feel comforted. He fell back against his pillows, breathing slow and concentrated. He was still shaking, with his previous exhaustion coming back full force. Some of the light-headedness, certainly, had to be due to the lack of eating, but he was unfortunately sure that it wasn’t even the half of it.

Patton was conflicted: He had to tell Remus that he was okay, as soon as he returned. Say thanks for the food, that it had helped, and they could spend time together tomorrow, Patton would promise. Get Remus away before it got bad, before the dam he’d built so carefully behind his eyes fell and the blue of them spilled out for hours. 

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie about his feelings- he knew it was bad for him, and he couldn’t keep doing it, not to someone’s face. Not somebody he cared about so much.

He wanted to let Remus stay, beg him to stay if he had to, just so he didn’t have to dig up all his long-buried emotions on his own. He wanted to pull him in and beg for help, even though he knew nothing had managed to help him before, and it was so futile. 

When the door opened some ten minutes later, Patton didn’t sit up. He didn’t even look up, scared he’d cry if he so much as moved his eyes in his own skull. 

“Hey.”

The sound of the door shutting, followed by those heavy footsteps. A soft thunk, presumably the plate of food being placed on his bedside table. Then the mattress dipped beside him, springs creaking. 

“Hey,” Remus said again, “Look at me.”

Patton rolled his head tentatively to the side. Remus was sitting with him, looking at him, his expression twisted up and solemn in all the worst ways. Patton felt the dam begin to crumble. 

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “I know, I know that I’m no fun when I’m like this, and we were supposed to have fun today, and I just can’t do it. I can’t, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, but if you stay here when I’m-” he broke, clamping a hand around his mouth as a sob wracked his body.. “When I’m like this, I’m just gonna ruin your day more.”

That sad look, the one that had no place being in Remus’ expression, sharpened and widened until he looked almost angry. He crawled over to Patton, prying the side’s hand away from his face and cupping his cheek, gently, all the while that scowl was in place. 

“Do you want me to go?”

Patton could barely speak, knowing that he’d just blubber and blubber, but Remus was holding him up by the shoulders and peering down at him so patiently, so carefully.

“I- I-”

“Do you want to be alone?”

He couldn’t- he couldn’t keep lying.

Patton sucked in a breath.

“No.”

Remus grinned at him proudly, pulling back until he was kneeling. He spread his arms out, an offering that Patton had become intimately familiar with. Patton pulled himself up, shaking, incredulous despite the familiarity of the situation.

“Then you don’t have to be.”

And Patton pitched forward, right into Remus’ arms, clutching and crying and trembling like a leaf.

Distantly, he knew that he was still babbling apologies. Insisting that the Duke could leave as soon as he wanted, that Patton felt this way so often and he knew he couldn’t possibly expect comfort every time, a million other sentences that ran over and into each other which only seemed to make Remus clutch him tighter. 

“It’s okay,” Remus told him.

“It’s- It’s not, I don’t even have a- a reason to be so-” a hiccup, “- upset. It’s not like last time, when you found me- I don’t even have a bad excuse, I’m just- just-”

“Shut the fuck up,” somehow, even that sounded caring. “Somebody as Hello Kitty Wholesome as you’s got no business saying such bad shit about himself.”

Patton tried to apologize again. 

“Easy, Sugar, I’ve got you.”

Patton shuddered.

“When it gets bad like this, just tell me, alright?” Remus’ hands traced up and down his spine, across his shoulder blades, down his sides, warm and full and adoring. The smile in his voice was audible, “I’m gonna take care of you.”

And when Patton heard that, it was like a broken bone being set. Not fully mended, but held together enough that it could begin to heal the right way, of its own hard work, and come back twice as strong still. Remus held him so strong and it felt like a cast. 

Patton’s breakdowns were blurred memories at best, but he couldn’t have gotten that promise out of his head even if he wanted to. 

It was an achingly uneventful afternoon. Everything in the Mindpalace felt just a little out of focus, a little gray, and nothing much was going to change that except the day ending. Plain and simple, Thomas was Out Of It- and so, of course, were his sides.

On the whole it wasn’t a big deal, but it did make it downright impossible to finish any substantial work beyond menial, autopilot tasks. And creativity? Particularly for Remus, who more-or-less needed his human at full attention in order to have any creative power, it was totally hopeless. 

He wasn’t the kind of guy to work on half-power, to put it mildly. 

So, what did Remus do, when he had even less of an outlet than usual? It shouldn’t surprise you that the answer is literally anything, if it got people to pay attention to him and make him feel real again (which he wasn’t, actually, but let’s leave the semantics to Logan). What that usually amounted to- these days, at least- was talking, and talking, and more talking, and eventually somebody would probably react to something he said. Ideally. 

So on that particular gray-day, Remus sprawled himself out on the couch and waited for the first person who came by to trap in a very one-sided conversation. 

Said first person was Patton, as it happened, which was just Remus’ luck. He didn’t bother hiding how excited he was about it; Patton had always been his favorite target- of course, it was for a very, very different reason nowadays. 

Patton sat down with him as soon as he was waved over, propping a coloring book open on his knee and smiling warmly. His unoccupied hand went to wind through Remus’ hair, though, to make it abundantly obvious that despite his distraction he wasn’t ignoring the other.

Remus grinned at him, and started rambling immediately. 

And he- well, he wouldn’t really call it talking to himself, because he didn’t have a fucking clue what he was saying. But he wasn’t talking to Patton either, because that kinda defeats the purpose of a one-sided conversation. 

Which he didn’t mind. He wasn’t even listening to himself, he just needed to talk, and Patton wasn’t complaining. Remus was probably saying something unsavory, and still, there wasn’t any kind of flinching or interrupting. Patton even mhm’d and yeah’d every now and then, which was an entirely unnecessary reassurance. But Remus thought it was adorably considerate, and briefly entertained the idea of replacing that sweet little coloring book in Patton’s lap with his own self, to get some proper attention. 

(He would have, too, if he wasn’t so sure that he’d blurt out something very lewd in his stream-of-consciousness kind of mood, with a position like that, and he wasn’t sure if Patton could handle it at the moment. Morality always got a little out of whack on gray-days, too, so- loathe as Remus was to say it- better safe than sorry). 

Remus fell into the rhythm of it for, what, twenty minutes? He was bad with time, but- all he knew was he was thinking about Albert Fish, and talking about an entirely different serial killer out loud (Gacy? Bundy? It was definitely someone infamous), when the hand in his hair suddenly stilled. Patton wasn’t looking at him, either.

Remus glanced around, still talking, to find Logan standing in the kitchen doorway, staring expectantly at Patton. 

“I need you to accompany me outside for a moment. There’s something important that we-”

Patton cut him off with a wave, “Hang on for a second, Teach.” 

Logan obliged, looking bemused, and Patton turned his attention back to the still-tangenting Remus. Who was totally checked out, for the record. 

“Hey,” Patton rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly, “Pause?”

And Remus, surprised, did as asked. He didn’t care about what was going on around him, but he liked that smile, and the eyes focused in on him, so he sat up properly and tried to be quiet. Especially considering those were the first actual words Patton had said to him since he’d sat down. 

“I’m gonna go see what they need real quick,” Patton went on, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, and you can finish telling me about Dennis Rader then-” So that was who! “Kay?” 

Remus stared mutely at him for an embarrassing number of seconds. He eventually managed a short nod, some vague utterances of yeah, sure, go ahead, before Patton was out the door with Logan, and he was left reeling on the couch. 

Remus felt a little bit like worms had eaten holes in his brain like swiss cheese, leaving him airy-headed and dizzy. All his organs felt wormy, in fact- squirming and sick and excited about something that really shouldn’t have been a big deal- but! It was!!!

Cuz Patton had been listening? Remus wasn’t even listening! He was probably barely coherent, and he’d been at it for twenty fucking minutes, and- and-

God! He just wanted to grab that stupid adorable head of Patton’s and! He didn’t even know! Do Something, something disgusting in the nice way, something deplorably PG and lovey-dovey and- Ugh! 

Remus buried his face in his hands and groaned. He felt like a goddamn schoolgirl- and not the hentai kind, for a change, but the hopelessly infatuated, cutesy type. Feelings that were gushy, giddy, affectionately bloody. 

It was the straw that broke the camel's spine. Urges and instincts and wants that Remus hadn’t been able to name coalesced into a neon sign in his mind, flaring the answer like it’d been obvious the whole time:

Was it a crush? Remus didn’t know a better word for it, even if it wasn’t- he just knew that he was pining, and for somebody he was happy to call his friend either way. And, huh. Weird. He didn’t know he could do that. 

“I’m back, I’m back!” Patton came scrambling back into the room, jolting Remus out of his thoughts, “Sorry about that, it was- well, it’s not a big deal, something happened with The Memories and- it’s fine now- anyway, what were you saying?”

He was chattering fast, even by Remus’ Standards, an apologetic smile on his face as he sat down and settled all his attention on the Duke. 

Remus said: “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” and wondered if he’d always been that shrill? Or was he being too quiet? What did his voice sound like again?? “I, uh, I don’t remember what I was talking about.”

Patton frowned at him, and looked about ready to apologize again, and he couldn’t very well have that. So, he babbled:

“Right, it was Rader? Um. Yeah,” but that was so far out of his mind by that point, and how did people ever talk while saying things and thinking other things! “Not much to say, ya know. Killed some people, got arrested, the usual.”

“Since when don’t you give me the graphic details?” Patton complained, “That’s your favorite part!” 

“I think I’ll spare you the nightmares this time, Morey! It’s, uhm, it’s your turn to talk.” 

“Oh, hush,” and Patton laughed, shooting Remus an encouraging, coaxing smile that made him just want to debone himself. “Those serial killer stories you like so much aren’t the nightmare fuel they used to be. You know why?”

Remus felt like the inside of his skin was full of spikes. Not in a bad way. 

“...Why?” 

“Because,” Patton said, like he was all too eager to explain himself, “I can’t really be scared of them when the scariest thing is what’s in bed with me.”

Remus flushed. Like, actually-  heat crawled across his face and over his ears, and he honestly had no clue the last time something or someone had made him blush. But Patton, acknowledging his scare-factor while somehow making it obvious he felt only safe with him, was apparently what ticked that box. 

“Right,” chirped Remus, “That’s- me!”

“Of course it is, Silly,” Patton bumped their shoulders together, smiling like he had no idea what he was doing- and to be honest, he probably didn’t.

Remus drank in the contact, happily using it as an excuse to wrap his arms around Patton and pull him closer. He buried his face in Patton’s shoulder, because as far as his impulses told him, he should either get the fuck away A.S.A.P. or drag Patton in as close as possible and not let go. Obviously, Remus had a preference. 

“You- uh- I was being serious though,” ugh, God, stuttering was so goddamn annoying- how did Virgil cope? “You should talk. I’m- I’m sorta overwhelmed.”

That was the truth, or part of it. Admitting it out loud at least managed to take some of the power out of it.

Patton immediately cooed at him- it should have been annoying; it wasn’t- and wrapped him up in his arms properly, muttering little of courses and do you need anything?s. Remus melted into him, finally claiming that spot in his lap (and any jokes his mind might have had about that were long gone, by then), shaking his head and glowing under the attention. 

Of course Patton was happy- after making sure that Remus was alright- to do some of the talking. He talked about his day, what he wanted to do later, or tomorrow, and of cute things that he’d seen, and a hundred other inconsequential Patton-isms. 

Remus was unused to sitting and listening, but with him… it wasn’t as bad as the Duke remembered it being. 

Oh, he was so fucking fucked. 

Chapter Nine

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @donnieluvsthings @glitter-skeleton-uwu @intruxiety @gayformlessblob @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @thefivecalls

[prettybuckybaby]

we lay here for years or for hours, so long we become the flowers; chapter three

The avengers babysit, part two

part seven of single parent peter parker

masterlist

read on ao3 here

“You free this afternoon?”

“I could be. What do you have in mind?”

“There’s a talk on at the science museum at 2:30 about biomolecular engineering. Thought you might be interested in goin’?”

“God, I love you.”

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

“Peter?” Natasha didn’t know what she expected on her day off, her official day off, but the kid calling her just after he should be having lunch isn’t it. “Aren’t you at school? Is something wrong?”

“Hi, Tasha,” Peter’s voice is rushed down the phone, almost drowned out by the sound of the school behind him. “Is there any chance you could pick up Leia for me later and hang out with her a few hours?”

“Of course, I can,” She frowns a bit. “It’s not a problem. What’s up?”

“Oh,” Natasha can almost hear Peter fidgeting awkwardly through the phone. “I, er, got detention?”

“You got a detention?” She laughs. “Peter, are you going through your rebellious phase?” She laughs harder when Peter groans.

“No!” He whines. “It was a misunderstanding. Leia’s play group called me and I left the room to answer, and we had a new teacher and she didn’t know that I’m allowed to do that. I came back into the room and she gave me a detention. I said I couldn’t do it, she said I was talking back, and Morita isn’t here today so I can’t get out of it,”

“Peter,” She sighs down the phone. By the way Peter groans, she guesses he knows what she’s going to say. “You have permission to answer calls because you have a child to look after. Do you want me to come down and sort it? Or get Tony to?”

“No,” He sighs heavily. “You know I love you and appreciate it, but I don’t want any of you getting involved in this. If I just suddenly get out of detention people are going to start asking questions. I’ll get May to come with me tomorrow, so it’s not put on my record or anything.”

“Alright,” Natasha relents, trusting Peter enough that he will be able to handle the situation.

“Plus, Leia’s been wanting to hang out with you, anyway,” Peter tells her. She can hear him smiling. “What better time than now?”

“Okay,” She smiles back at him. “What time do you normally pick her up at?”

“I normally pick her up about 2, but the group stays open until 5 if you’re not free right away,”

“I can be there at two,” Natasha tells him, smiling when Peter lets out a happy sigh down the phone.

“Thank you so much,” He tells her, tone genuine. “I’ll let them know it’s you coming so there’s no issues. She’s normally still napping when I get there. Thank you, again,”

“It’s okay, Peter,” She laughs. “What time will you be back at?”

“Er, I’ve got decathlon practice first, and then the detention, so I should be there at half six?”

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

Leia is still asleep when she picks her up from play group, just like Peter said she would be. Natasha gets her back to the tower before she even starts to stir, and when she puts Leia down on her couch, she settles right back down.

It’s nearly half past three by the time Leia wakes up, crawling across the length of the couch.

“Hi,” Natasha smiles at the child when she cuddles up to her side, one fist tight around her teddy and the other grasping the blanket the spy had draped over her.

“Tash,” Leia mumbles, eyes still mostly closed. “Had a dream ‘bout flyin’,”

“Flying?” She asks, wrapping one of her arms around Leia’s shoulders and twisting a finger around a ringlet of hair. “Did you have wings?”

“I dunno.” She says around a yawn. Natasha hums “Was just flyin’,”

“Was it fun, at least?”

“Yeah,” Leia mumbles, trying to burrow closer to Natasha’s side. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Daddy got into trouble at school, and I don’t think he wanted you to have to stay with him with nothing to do. He didn’t want you getting bored.”

“Oh. ‘Kay,”

“Yeah,” Natasha grins down at her. “We get to hang out though. That’s fun, isn’t it,”

“Yeah!” Leia smiles, sounding a lot happier and a bit more awake. “What we gon’ do?”

“I don’t know yet. You’re still all sleepy, though, so we can start with watching something. Just until you wake up,” Nat tells her, closing her book and putting it down on the table. “So, what would you like to watch?”

“Um,” Leia wiggles slightly, bringing the hand with Bearbear in it up to her eyes and rubbing gently. “Barbie ‘nd the princesses?”

“Hmm,” Nat hums, reaching for the remote. “The dancing princesses?”

Leia wakes up more throughout the film, giggles and talking to Natasha about what’s going on, gasping when the Duchess is revealed to be the villain.

“Pretty,” Leia sighs when Barbie dances the last waltz in the magical kingdom. “Wanna dance like that,” Natasha hums lightly.

“I can teach you, if you want,” Leia looks up at her, eyes wide.

“You can dance?”

“Yeah,” Nat smiles. “I learned when I was younger,”

“What’s it feel like?” Leia’s eyes widen more as she lifts herself to her knees, balancing herself on Natasha’s arms. Nat thinks for a moment.

“It feels…like flying,”.

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

She takes Leia down to the gym after they’ve changed their clothes. Natasha always thought that Tony went overboard with everything he bought for Leia, filling multiple wardrobes with clothes that she’ll grow out of in less than a year. However, she’s quite thankful for it when she manages to find a pair of leggings and a t-shirt that’s loose enough to not limit Leia’s movements.

“Matchin’,” Leia giggles when she sees them in the mirror of the gym. They’re both dressed completely in black, and Natasha took the time to braid Leia’s hair.

“Yeah,” Nat smiles at her through the mirror. “The floors gonna be cold on your feet, okay?” She warns gently as she lowers Leia to the floor.

“No socks?” Leia asks, squealing and giggling when she feels the cold on the bottoms of her feet.

“No, pauk rebenok,” She smiles. “Don’t want to be slipping all over the floor. Right, you sit down here,” She guides Leia down in front of the mirror. “FRIDAY, can you lock the gym, please. To everyone except Peter?”

“Of course, Agent Romanoff,”

“Thanks,” She turns back to look at Leia, who is following her every move. “Okay, you’re going to watch me first, okay?” She smiles when Leia nods her head quickly. “This is a secret, okay? You can’t tell anybody,”

“Not even Daddy?” Leia asks, peering up from the floor. Natasha narrows her eyes at her softly.

“Well, maybe you can tell Daddy. He’s quite good at keeping secrets, I guess,” She nods before she walks over to the sparring mat in the middle of the room. “You ready?”

“Yeah, Tash,”.

Leia doesn’t take her eyes off Natasha as she glides across the floor. She watches as Tasha floats, leaps through the air, landing on her toes and taking off again. She moves as one with the soft piano music that’s filling the room, as if it is flowing through her very being. She’s flying around the room with a gracefulness Leia hasn’t ever seen before, limbs effortlessly controlled, and posture poised perfectly.

Tasha lands with a final spin, feet flat but delicate on the floor just as the music ends. She doesn’t speak when she stops, but smiles when she notices Leia watching her, awe painted on her face.

“So pretty,” Leia mumbles when Natasha bends down and picks up a bottle of water. “I’m going to learn to do that?”

“One day,” Natasha puts the water down after having a drink and holds her hands out for Leia to take. She pulls her up and leads her towards the mat. “But today, we’ll learn how to do stretches, okay?”

“Okay!” Leia agrees easily, nodding her head and sitting down, copying Natasha’s movements.

“Okay, you’ve got to stretch before you do any kind of exercise, alright?” Natasha tells her. “Otherwise, you might hurt yourself. And we don’t want to hurt yourself. Even Steve stretches before he goes for a run,”

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

They’re interrupted a little over an hour later, when Natasha has shown Leia a range of stretches she can do before different parts of her body. They’ve spent most of the time sitting on the mat and talking, but Leia can now do any stretch that Natasha tells her to.

“Agent Romanoff, Mr Wilson would like you to know that food is being served upstairs,”

“Thank you, FRIDAY,” Natasha smiles at Leia when she stands up, holding her hands out again to pull the toddler up and carrying her out of the gym. “You want to do this again? Maybe actually get to the dancing?” She laughs when Leia starts nodding her head almost immediately. “Okay. I’ll have to ask your Daddy about it though. Make sure he’s okay with it,”

“Thank you, Tash,” Leia smiles up at her, linking her arms around the spy’s neck and hugging her tightly.

“You’re very welcome, zolottse,” She smiles as she steps into the lift. She speaks again when the lift starts going up without Nat having to ask FRIDAY. “Remember, this is a secret, okay? Nobody but Daddy can know,”

“Okay, Tash,”

“Hey,” The doors open into the shared kitchen, where almost everyone else is. Only Peter and Harley are missing. “I didn’t know you were here, Bug,” Sam grins at Leia when they walk out the lift. “Is Daddy with you?”

“No,” Natasha replies while Leia shakes her head. She sits Leia down on the chair next to Tony before she takes her own.

“Where is itsy bitsy?” Tony asks, standing up and grabbing a juice for Leia. He’s just pieced the straw through when the lift chimes and the doors open. “Speak of the devil,”

“Hey,” Peter smiles, kissing Leia gently on the top of her head. “Thank you, Tasha,”

“It’s no problem, Peter,” She smiles at him. “Always happy to have my favourite girl around,” She winks at Leia, who smiles back with a giggle.

“You staying for food? Or do you have to get back to your Aunt?” Peter glances at Leia before he responds to Sam.

“We can stay for a bit. May doesn’t finish at the hospital until eight,” Peter smiles when Sam hands him a plate. “Thanks, man,”

“Why are you so late, Pete?” Bruce asks him. Peter shrugs one shoulder.

“Got detention,” Everyone looks up at him, disbelief on their faces.

“You got a detention?” Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“It was a misunderstanding with a new teacher. May knows. She’s going to speak to Morita about it tomorrow,”

“Right,”

“How long are detentions these days?” Clint asks him, turning back to his food. “They were only an hour when I was in school,”

“I had decathlon practice as well,”

“On a Tuesday?” Tony asks. Peter raises an eyebrow at the suspicion on his face.

“Yeah? MJ decided we needed some extra practice. We’ve got a meet soon,” Tony nods slowly, face still showing his scepticism. Peter changes the subject. “Where’s Harley?”

“He told me he was going out with Brad again,” Pepper smiles at him. Tony perks up again.

“So,” He grins, “Who is this Brad. You know him?”

“Yeah,” Peter nods at him. “Yeah, I mean, we’re not really friends, but,” He shrugs.

“You’re not friends with him?” Steve asks, trying not to sound too invested in the gossip.

“Not really. We’re in different circles, I guess. We don’t have any classes together and we’ve never really…spoken much. He’s in Harley’s engineering class,”

“Is he nice?”

“Yeah. I mean, we haven’t spoken much but he’s nice. His friends are nice.” Peter tells them. “Harls really likes him though. He’s been wanting to talk to him for ages, he just hadn’t found the courage.”

“So, you approve?” Sam asks. Peter rolls his eyes with a snort.

“Harley doesn’t need my approval,”

“But does he have it?”

“I mean, I guess?” Peter is saved from elaborating further by the lift doors opening again, and Harley himself walking into the room.

“How was your date, kid?” Tony asks without any greeting, grinning at the slight red flush that appears on Harley’s cheeks.

“Yeah.” He smiles, sitting down next to Peter. “Yeah, it was good.”

“How’s it going?” Pepper asks, smiling when Harley steels a potato off Peter’s plate and the younger boy scowls at him. “You and Brad?”

“Good,” The teen smiles at her again. “He’s…nice. We have a good time together,”

Natasha and Bucky both notice how he glances at Peter when he speaks. They send him a sad smile.

[zrtranscripts]

Home Front, Mission 14: Sam’s Recipe for Success

Full of Beans

~

SAM YAO: Hello, listeners! Sam here, coming live from Abel's kitchens. We're going to kick off another workout in a minute, so while I'm talking, why not do a little warming up? Dance about, or jog on the spot, something light and fun. Now I'm not usually allowed in the kitchens because of a little... incident with some marmite shortbread which I thought was a brilliant idea but Janine said was a waste of resources, especially after it caught fire in the oven.

But anyway, as some of you may know, we've had a bit of luck with the giant super horde besieging the countryside. A landslide hit the horde's east flank, scattering a huge chunk of the zoms, so we've got a little window to send runners out with supplies. Dozens of small communities were cut off by the horde, and we're sending care packages to everyone. It's been all hands on deck in the kitchens prepping the deliveries, and we're almost ready to go.

[paper rustles]

So to celebrate, today's first exercise is one I've really started to like. The instructions call it dead bug walking, but I like to think of it as happy puppy flailing. Just lie on your back with your arms and legs in the air, then walk them up and down as fast as you can for one minute, like an excited Labradoodle on its back. Ready? And go! Okay, that's 15 seconds down. Keep those paws wiggling. And that's it, halfway done. Yeah, I-I really think this is a good sign. You know, the horde weakening. A few more natural disasters and it-it could be gone. That's 15 seconds left. Yeah, not-not that we want natural disasters, obviously. Just little disasters. You know, zom-only disasters. And that's it, you're done!

Feel that Labradoodle energy. Okay, yeah, I'm gonna scoot the last crate of eggs and flour down to our dispatch runners, then I'll come right back. Meantime, I'll play some music. You can relax or keep flailing. I've borrowed Runner Seventeen’s latest good times mix, so this song should be perfect for keeping up the good vibes.

~

SAM YAO: All right, that's the last load of supplies delivered to our runners. They'll be leaving any minute. Now I tell you what, Runner Forty-Three has been baking some great treats for each package. You should see the cupcakes! It's amazing what Forty-Three can do with an egg and some scavenged Nutella.

Actually, I've been using the lockdown to work on my own baking. Yeah, well, first it was crochet until we ran out of yarn. Then it was photography, but Maxine wanted the last camera. So Forty-Three has been helping me practice recipes instead, by miming them to avoid wasting supplies. Janine made me promise not to get in the way in the kitchens today though, so I've mostly been carrying cans and crates out to the runners, which gave me the idea for our next exercise, running with cans.

So find yourself two cans or any two objects about as heavy that you can grip, and take one in each hand. But if you're not absolutely sure you've got a solid grip, put each one in a strong bag with a good handle, hold them like that. Then run on the spot, swinging your arms to get your heart pumping, okay? Yeah, let's try one minute of that. And go! Now that's 15 seconds down. Okay, 30 seconds left. Like Forty-Three always says, practice makes perfect. 15 seconds left. Actually, Forty-Three tends to say, that's weird, practice usually makes perfect. Cooking lessons could be going better, to be honest. And you're done. 60 seconds.

Time to rest, unless you want to keep running through... [device beeps] Uh, hold on one sec. Oh... okay. Um, just got an urgent message from Janine. Better take this off the air. I'm gonna cut straight to the next music break, okay? Dance along or run some more, if you fancy it. I'll be right back after this.

~

SAM YAO: Um, hello folks. Uh, I've uh... I've got some bad news. You might want to keep can running to distract you. Really wish I didn't have to say this. Apparently, we're not the only ones who decided to take advantage of the weakened horde. There was this group of runners in New Canton, vigilantes going against orders. They figured this was the perfect time to fight the zoms, rounded up a bunch of people, charged at the horde's weakened flank with guns and bombs.

Only well, the zoms got scattered by a landslide, didn't they? So loads of them were buried under rocks, which this lot charged right over. Zom hands came reaching up from the ground, scratching and pulling. Some of the vigilantes went down, some bombs went off early. Zoms got freed from the rock while the rest of the horde honed in on the noise. Basically, it was a bloody mess. And now the horde's as strong as ever. So no supplies going anywhere today.

Well, I know you must be feeling frustrated, listeners, because I am. But, but I've got another exercise that might help channel that. Yeah, uh... [paper rustles] Ah, yeah. Well, this one's pretty simple. Bicep curls. You need weights. Take your cans or whatever you were running with and if you haven't already, put them into bags, one per bag, and make sure each bag has a good handle you can hold. For heavier weights, add more cans. Then press your elbows against your flanks with your hands by your sides and your palms facing up, one hand holding each weight. Bend your elbows to bring the weights up to your shoulders and then down again, okay? Yeah, we'll do 60 seconds of that.

Ready? And go! That's it, 15 seconds down. [laughs] You know, Runner Twelve, stuck in a pub with a pinball machine? He swears this exercise helped him to top the high score. Ah, unless he was tilting it. That's it, halfway done. Concentrate on those weights. It must have been that. That would help, actually. 15 seconds left. And done. Now I hope that gave you all something else to focus on for a bit. Uh, I'm gonna play some music now, do a few curls myself. Because honestly, I've got a lot of frustration that needs channeling here.

~

SAM YAO: Uh, welcome back everyone. Yep, I've just had final confirmation from Janine. No one's going out anytime soon. [sighs] I feel sorry for those vigilantes, I really do, but how could they be so stupid, charging a super horde like that? Now they've gone and made things worse for everyone, [sighs] because they couldn't stand staying in and feeling useless, I guess. I get it. Yeah, I mean, I-I want to be doing more too, but we can't go off half-cocked, not when the stakes are this high. It's like Maxine says, right? The Z-virus is a medical problem and medical problems need patience. [laughs] I know it's a really bad pun, but it's true.

Anyway, in case anyone out there wants to reinforce their barricades now that the horde's been strengthened, we're going to do an exercise that's good for lifting furniture: squats. I bet most of you know this already. Stand with your arms at your sides and your legs hip-distance apart, then squat down like you're sitting on an invisible chair. Make sure your knees don't come out further than your feet and your bum is sticking out. And we're going to go for one minute of those. And go!

15 seconds down. Imagine you're lifting a sofa. 30 seconds down. Get that barricade reinforced. 15 seconds left. Just a couple more cabinets to lift. And done. Good job, everyone. I'm gonna play some more music for anyone who wants to keep going, but remember, you need to look after yourselves as well as your barricades, so don't be afraid to stop and rest.

~

SAM YAO: You know what, listeners? I always try and look on the bright side, but the truth is this is, um, this is getting to me. Yeah. I really thought it was going to be a good day, and then you know, wham. Janine's checked with the settlements we were going to deliver to and they've all got enough supplies to last a while longer, so... so that's something, at least.

I've uh, I've actually been secretly baking something for Janine. Banana bread based on Runner Forty-Three’s lessons. It was going to be a surprise to celebrate the deliveries. Guess them being cancelled doesn't make a difference. Come out all burned and blackened anyway, like that shortbread.

Oh boy. Ah. I think I need some cheering up here, listeners. I'm um... spiraling a bit. Tell you what. Yeah, there's this one exercise, it always looks sort of silly picturing loads of people doing it at once. Well, it'd put a smile on my face. It's called doing high knees. Just march really fast on the spot for one minute, pumping your arms and bringing your knees all the way up to your waist with each step, like something out of the Ministry of Silly Walks from Monty Python. Ready? And go!

15 seconds gone. Keep those knees up. Halfway done. Honestly, I don't miss a lot of Monty Python, but did you hear Runner Thirty-Four's radio reenactment of Holy Grail last night? I's brilliant. It was brilliant. 45 seconds, almost done. And that's one minute! Okay. That, that did make me feel better, imagining you all doing that. I couldn't help joining in towards the end, I admit it. [timer dings] Oh, and uh, yeah. That's the oven timer. Right, I'm gonna get my blackened, burned mess, listeners, but it's okay. I'm feeling more like I can cope with it now. You guys rest or keep marching to the music until I get back.

~

SAM YAO: [laughs] Right, you're not gonna believe this, listeners! I mean, I don't believe it. The banana bread, it's-it's perfect! The top is all nice and brown, and the inside's soft and spongy, and it has that delicious banana-y smell, and it's-it's just... perfect. Possibly thanks to Runner Forty-Three, who left a note on the oven saying set to 180 degrees, not 300. Guess you caught my secret project, Forty-Three. Couldn't have done it without you.

Or you, listeners. You really helped me today. I know this lockdown's tough, but we have to keep reminding ourselves the one thing we can do without going off half-cocked is just... be there, even at a distance. Be willing to help each other past dark days. And we can share the little victories that help us through, like Maxine's photos or Thirty-Four’s radio plays, or banana bread. Because if one of us scores a win, and we're all in this together, it's a win for all of us, isn't it? No matter how small it seems.

Now I'm gonna take this banana bread to Janine. She won't admit it, but it will cheer her up. And I'll put the recipe on ROFFLEnet in case you want to try it! Well, if you don't, that's okay, because exercising is a little victory too, so you're already winning today. We'll get through this, everyone, I know it. And maybe after, we can have some banana bread together. Until then, stay safe. I'll be back on air soon and I promise I'll share all my little victories and I'll cheer for all of yours.

~

[amaranthinecanicular]

heartsick

[My gift for @nekosisterart, for the @bnhasecretsanta2019 event. Enjoy!]

It doesn’t happen often, to be fair. Usually Tamaki’s instincts are good enough to avoid the trouble, but even he falls prey to a bad oyster now and then. Or turned chicken, or soured dairy. And given the sheer volume of food he eats by the day, it’s quite impossible to tell which component of which meal was the culprit.

Then again, thinks Tamaki, with his head shoved in the toilet bowl, it’s possible that it isn’t food poisoning at all. He and Fat Gum had recently caught a villain on a minor crime spree in Hosu, whose quirk afflicted victims with flu-like symptoms for an excruciating twenty four hours. Then again again, a stomach bug has been going around the agency. Then again again again—

“You pushed yourself too hard,” says Mirio, easily. He’s crouched beside Tamaki on the bathroom tile, one hand combing hair back from Tamaki’s brow and the other massaging soothing patterns into his spine. One hand peels away to jiggle the lever, and then returns, cooler after palming the metal. The sick swirls down the drain, the sour smell swirling away with it. Relief, if only for a few minutes.

“It’s food poisoning or it’s a stomach bug,” Tamaki says. His voice echoes in the porcelain, wobbly and weak. “I haven’t been pushing myself any harder than normal.”

“You have.” Mirio thumbs the stringy hair sticking to Tamaki’s temple. “You’ve been working your butt off since Fatgum made his announcement.”

The announcement. Fatgum’s retirement. Tamaki grimaces, only in part due to the roll of nausea that works through him. Mirio might have a point there. “There’s only a few weeks left until he leaves. I have to prove to him that I can handle the agency.”

And to myself, he doesn’t add, though he’s sure Mirio hears it anyway. He’s kind enough not to say it. “If you weren’t good enough to take care of the place, he wouldn’t be leaving it to you. Anyone with eyes in their head can see that you’re the right choice, and no one believes in you more than Fat Gum. ‘Cept for me, of course!”

He shoots Tamaki a cheesy wink, and Tamaki means to smile, except he pukes instead. Violently. Ugh.

“I’m dying, Mirio,” he moans, once he’s able. “Say goodbye to Kirishima and Hadou for me. Apologize to Fatgum and the sidekicks. It’s over.”

“That’s too bad,” Mirio says mildly. He flushes the toilet again, and hands Tamaki a glass of water from the counter. He’d brought it with him when he shuffled in this morning, still mussy-haired and bleary-eyed. Tamaki woke him with the sound of his retching. “I’ll cry a lot at your funeral. There will be a lot of crying, but don’t worry, I’ll cry the most.”

Tamaki coughs a thank you into the toilet.

Mirio asks, “When’s the last time you took a day off?”

A bad question. Tamaki should know the answer but he doesn’t. He stalls for time by rinsing his mouth once, twice. Then he says, lamely, “When was the last time you took a day off?”

Mirio laughs. “Today, actually! I’m going to stay home and take care of you.”

Queasiness swoops into Tamaki’s stomach. He braces to throw up again, but no, this time the reaction is purely emotional. “You don’t have to do that. Really. I’m just going to go in late. I’ll text Fatgum. You should go to work, I’ll be—”

Oh, no, that swoop was physical too. He spits out something rancid and yellow-green while Mirio pats his back sympathetically.

“—just fine,” he finishes miserably.

“Right. So you’re not going to die?”

“No,” Tamaki tells the toilet, in a voice that betrays exactly how much he feels like he’s dying.

“That’s great! I’d still like you to stay home, though.”

Tamaki knows the face Mirio is making, half exasperated and half soppy. In his opinion, tossing his guts into the toilet calls for neither exasperation nor soppiness. Mostly it just calls for disgust. But he lifts his head, and lo and behold: there in Mirio’s face, utterly uncalled for tenderness. Tamaki is pathetically weak for it. He rests his head on his arms and watches him, and Mirio watches him back.

He musters up the courage to whisper, “I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

Mirio bursts out laughing. Despite the embarrassment that instantly heats Tamaki’s face, it’s good to hear. “Tamaki, we’re married! This is exactly the kind of burden I signed up for, you goose.” He kisses Tamaki’s forehead, and in response to the weak protests about how disgusting that is, he kisses him all over the rest of his face as well.

“Are you okay to go back to bed?” Mirio asks, once he deems Tamaki thoroughly kissed. Tamaki considers the delicate state of his stomach. He nods.

“As long as we bring a wastebasket, just in case.”

Mirio scoops him into his arms with so much care that Tamaki’s head doesn’t swim at all. He’s too exhausted to feel embarrassed, and instead chooses to rest his head against Mirio’s chest and indulge in the steady thump of his heartbeat. As far as Tamaki is concerned, there’s nothing more soothing in the world.

When they were nine, Mirio fell halfway through the floor. It was the most frightening moment of Tamaki’s young life—nearly two decades later, it still ranks pretty high. At their next sleepover, when Mirio inevitably fell asleep first, Tamaki squirmed as close as he dared, until he could feel the warmth coming off of Mirio’s body. That was grounding, but he squirmed closer still, and closer, until suddenly there was Mirio’s heartbeat fluttering against his ear. Constant. Clear. There was no way something so dependable could vanish into the ground and leave him forever. He was asleep in moments.

In their last year at UA, Tamaki found himself seeking that same reassurance. Mirio had lost more than most pro heroes could fathom, and Tamaki had nearly lost Mirio. Sat next to his hospital bed, half of his own face still smothered in bandages, he put his head down on Mirio’s chest and anchored himself to the rhythm beneath his sternum. The loss of his quirk was crippling. The loss of Sir Nighteye had broken his heart. But it was still beating. Mirio would stand again, quirk or no quirk, because something that strong simply couldn’t give out.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Mirio,” he had said then, and he says it now, as Mirio lowers him to the bed. Admittedly this situation is much less dire than the last, which is what Tamaki is trying to make Mirio understand. “Really. You should go to work. I’ll feel better soon.”

Mirio exhales a patient laugh through his nose. He pulls the comforter up to Tamaki’s chin. “Everyone needs a break now and then, Tamaki. That doesn’t mean you’re giving in, or that you’re weak. Just let me take care of you for once, yeah?”

For once. As though their whole lives Mirio hasn’t been—Tamaki chews on his cheek. It tastes sour with old sick. After several long seconds, he sighs. “I guess… one day wouldn’t be the end of the world. For either of us.”

Mirio’s smile is brilliant. The sun, warming Tamaki’s shivery insides. “Great! I’ll let our agencies know. Just lay back and let me spoil you. You’ll be better in no time.”

Tamaki already wants to take it back, but then Mirio presses his sunshiney mouth to the arch of Tamaki’s cheekbone, and Tamaki’s heart oozes through his ribs and down into the roiling tempest of his stomach, soothing it some. Just one day. Not the end of the world. Better in no time.

:

Several hours of devoted care later, and Tamaki might actually feel worse than he did that morning.

Mirio has always been hardy, is what neither of them took into account. Even as a child he rarely fell ill, and losing his quirk didn’t change that. His stellar bill of health has never been more evident than right now, as he fumbles through tending to Tamaki: the cool cloths draped over his forehead are never wrung out properly, stray droplets of water left to dry slowly along his scalp. Mirio has retrieved every blanket they own and piled them haphazardly on the end, until Tamaki feels constricted and overheated. The soup is canned and watery, and the jokes Mirio tells to distract him from his misery are tacky, half of which he’s heard before.

Tamaki loves him so desperately he can hardly breathe.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he murmurs, as Mirio locates yet another blanket from some closet or other and lays it atop the lumpy pile.

“I’m pretty sure you just existed, Tamaki.” He digs out Tamaki’s hand and holds it in both of his own, kisses the knuckles. “How are you feeling?”

Lightheaded. Nauseous. Sick with love. “Um. Snug? I mean—much better, thank you, Mirio.”

Mirio sees right through him, of course. He scratches the back of his neck, grins bashfully. Guilt cradles low alongside the nausea in Tamaki’s belly.

“I guess I don’t really know what I’m doing, huh? Me and dad didn’t get sick much.” He chuckles. “Thanks for indulging me, Tamaki. I’ll let you get some rest.”

He kisses Tamaki’s knuckles again, and then his forehead, and then he turns to leave. Pulls up short. Tamaki hasn’t let go of his hand.

“Stay,” he croaks, “please. I’ll sleep better with you here.”

Mirio’s grin softens into something so fond it aches bone-deep to see. Tamaki doesn’t look away.

“Of course.”

With effort they pry back the corners of half a dozen covers, and Mirio slips under. He draws Tamaki close. His added body heat turns the nest of blankets into a furnace. Sweat breaks out all over Tamaki’s skin, soaking slowly through his pajamas and into Mirio’s. It really is disgusting.

Tamaki is asleep within moments, lulled away by the white noise of Mirio’s heartbeat, as familiar and comforting as a favorite song. It’s the most peaceful sleep he’s had in weeks.

:

The next day, Hadou is hauling container after plastic takeaway container of fresh and steaming soup into the bedroom, where Mirio and Tamaki are both huddled up and shivering.

“You know, this was really irresponsible of you two!” she declares, voice barely muffled by the surgical mask she’s wearing. More soup stacked on the side table: chicken noodle, miso, and okayu. To an outsider it might look like overkill. In reality she’s well-armed. “Though I’ll admit it’s pretty cute that you’re sharing the same garbage can. Gross too, you know, but cute. This will help with the nausea. Take one every six hours. If you don’t want that, some ginger ale should help settle your stomachs. Your agencies each signed get well cards, so here are those, and here’s one from Eri. I read them, hope you don’t mind, and Eri’s is definitely my favorite.”

Mirio laughs; it’s hoarse and phlegmy, but no less bright. “As ever, Hadou, you are an angel! What can we do to repay you?”

“You can eat your soup and stay well away from me, mister!” She sticks out her tongue. Mirio returns the favor. “Stay warm, eat a lot, drink a lot a lot of water, and rest. That means no fooling around, either.”

Tamaki, who is already scarfing down the chicken noodle, chokes on the next spoonful. Mirio laughs so hard he coughs up a ball of mucus. Hadou continues, one finger tapping her chin.

“What’s that like, by the way? Since you’re both sick with the same thing, it’s probably not much different than normal, right? You don’t have to worry about getting each other sick. I guess you have to worry about throwing up in the middle, though, so you’d probably have to take it slow. That could be nice! I bet there’s a lot more fluids. Hey hey, what’s it like?”

Tamaki hides his mortification in his soup. If illness doesn’t kill him, Hadou’s insatiable curiosity will. “We’re not—fooling around, Hadou, we’re sick.”

“Good!” Hadou gives him a thumbs up, completely unfazed. “I’ll be back to check on you after work. Eat! Drink! Rest! Love you!”

“Love you!” Mirio calls after her, and “Love you,” Tamaki mutters. He returns to scarfing. After two days, he’s so hungry that he doesn’t care if his traitorous stomach disagrees with him. He’s starving and he’s keeping this down.

He pauses mid-bite when Mirio knocks their shoulders together. “I guess it was the bug at the agency, huh?”

“Probably. But.” Tamaki takes a slow breath. Caps his soup and meets Mirio’s eyes. “You were right, yesterday. About pushing myself too hard. I’m just—afraid. And I have to keep going, because if I don’t, the fear might get the better of me. People are counting on me now, Mirio. That can’t happen.”

“It won’t,” Mirio says, warm and intent. “You’re brave, Tamaki. The bravest person I know.”

In their shared lives Mirio has made the same claim with searing enthusiasm, when Tamaki’s doubts were so severe and all consuming that Mirio had to clutch him close and sob it into his shoulder. Here and now, fully grown, he speaks gently; Tamaki just needs the occasional reminder.

Heat rises behind his eyes. He presses a kiss to the corner of Mirio’s mouth. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

Mirio’s face is flushed and feverish, but Tamaki doubts that’s what makes his eyes so bright. “Think of it: soon we’re both going to be leading our own agencies. Talk about power couple, huh?”

“I can’t wait. We better eat up and get better if we want to get there faster.”

“Ha! You're right. Thank goodness for Hadou!”

He tucks into the okayu. Tamaki lifts his spoon again, but for a moment is content just to watch him.

He says, “I did tell you it was probably a bug, though.”

Mirio groans, a low and stuffy rumble that vibrates the whole bed. “Yeah, yeah, you told me so, go ahead and say it.”

“I told you so.”

He still feels mostly like death. The nausea hasn’t totally subsided, and Mirio smells awful. He’s sure he doesn’t smell any better. But for the first time in two days, he isn’t anxious to get back to work. In fact—Mirio sniffles hard and grins at him around the spoon—there’s no place he’d rather be.

[calzonafan2014]

Calzona Christmas Fic Season 8

Title: What a Difference a Year Makes Part 1

Rating: PG

About: Callie and Arizona are happily married and planning their first Christmas together until a surprise call threatens to keep them apart.

Author’s Note: this is super old, and I thought I would bring it back for Christmas. Happy, dorky, and fun Calzona before the plane crash.

December 12

Callie entered her apartment after a long but exhilarating shift and tossed her coat haphazardly in the typical direction of the sofa. She frowned when she heard it hit the floor. Turning to pick it up her eyes opened wide as she noted not only a missing sofa but also the Christmas spectacle that had replaced it.

“Uh, Arizona?” Callie asked, looking around for her wife.

She and Arizona had thrown up a few decorations after Thanksgiving. And they’d bought a huge tree the previous weekend. A tree that had been sitting forlornly in their living room ever since, as neither she nor Arizona had wanted to deal with the hassle of adding the lights. Now though, the whole thing twinkled with hundreds of clear lights, a beautiful garland with candles glowing festooned their mantle; every picture that graced their walls had been carefully wrapped in Christmas paper; and the coup de grace, an electric Rudolph stood proudly in place of their couch.

Arizona, clad in a ridiculously cheery Christmas sweater, popped out of the kitchen into the living room and grinned in excitement at her wife, “Callie, you’re home early. I’m not done yet.”

“Seriously? What exactly is missing?” Callie asked. Other than Santa and his eight other reindeer she thought to herself, but wisely didn’t say out loud.

“I was just going to make some mulled wine. Of course, if you think something’s missing I’ve got a few more pieces we can add,” Arizona said with a dimpled smile before she turned and headed back into the kitchen.

“Everything’s perfect just as it is,” Callie said quickly. “You’ve been…busy.”

“It’s Sofia’s first Christmas, I wanted it to be special.”

“Oh, it’s special all right,” Callie replied, and while there may have been a bit of residual snark, she was beginning to come around as the surprise wore off and she began to grin.

“You don’t like it.” Arizona’s voice was flat as she popped the cork to the second red wine bottle and began pouring it into the pan. Callie mentally smacked herself before heading into the kitchen and placing her hands on Arizona’s stiff shoulders.

“Arizona – it’s awesome.”

“Really?” Arizona asked skeptically, keeping her back turned to Callie even as she played with the wine on the stove. “Because you don’t…”

Callie forced Arizona around to face her. “I was surprised. You’ve gotta admit, you’re hard to predict. One minute you’re snarling about baby showers and birthday parties and the next we’ve got our very own Rudolph.” Which reminded Callie, “Where exactly is our sofa?”

“At Mark’s. I needed the extra room.”

Callie nodded slowly, “Aaand – we have a perfectly comfortable floor that we don’t sit on nearly enough.”

Arizona had the grace to blush at this, so Callie grabbed her opportunity and kissed her wife.

“You’re amazing.”

Arizona perked up and smiled up at Callie “I am?”

“Definitely,” Callie replied. “Let’s host a Christmas Eve party,” she blurted.

Now it was Arizona’s turn to blink, “Okay…” she replied, a bit tentative even as Callie got more enthused.

“My parents used to do it every year in Miami.”

Arizona smiled gamely, “That sounds like fun.”

“It’s kind of a tradition. I want Sofia to have that…”

“Me too,” Arizona replied softly.

“Great,” Callie said quickly, refusing to get wrapped up in any sentiment surrounding her mostly absent relatives. “I’ll invite the gang, but you’re on point for Teddy.”

“Callie, I’m not sure she’s going to want to…”

“Arizona, when was the last time you talked to Teddy?” Callie’s sudden exasperation made Arizona feel even guiltier than she already did.

“We talk,” she replied defensively.

“Um hm.”

“She’s probably working that day anyway,” Arizona added. Because really, what else was there?

“Arizona, Teddy’s still mad at me. And I get it – I totally get it. But she’s also mad at Owen and Cristina. You’re the only one outside of the anger zone. She needs you.”

“I know, I know. We talk, we do.” Callie didn’t look convinced.

This wasn’t the first time the subject of Teddy had come up since Henry’s death. Callie had wanted to have her over for Thanksgiving but Arizona had explained that Teddy was still too raw and she was afraid that seeing Callie in a social setting so soon might have set her off. Callie had accepted that at the time, but she’d also encouraged Arizona to take Teddy out on her own, so far to no avail.

“Invite her.” Callie said, in a tone that brooked no argument. “Tell her she can get drunk, create a huge scene and sleep it off on our sof – our extremely comfortable floor. It’ll be just like Christmas Eve back in Miami with my Great Uncle Jorge.”

“Yeah, because that sounds like so much more fun than working,” Arizona replied under her breath.

“It’s going to suck for her regardless,” Callie replied. “But at least she won’t be alone.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe alone’s better?” Arizona asked even as she already knew the answer to that one.

“No. Talk to her.”

Arizona sighed, “You’re not going to let this go are you?”

“Nope,” Callie said, completely unrepentant.

“Fine,” Arizona said. Callie saw the pout start to take hold and swept in for an encouraging kiss before it could completely manifest.

“Thank you,” Callie said softly. Arizona stepped forward to deepen the kiss but Callie stepped back.

Arizona frowned, “That’s all I get?”

“Consider it a down payment,” Callie deadpanned, pleased with herself even as Arizona smacked her ass in retaliation.

“Hey!”

“You’re mulling the wine now,” Arizona said firmly, stepping around her wife and out of the kitchen.

“Was there ever any doubt?” Callie asked even as she reached for the spices.

-------

The next morning Arizona, and Callie with Sofia in tow, waited for the hospital’s elevator to take Sofia to daycare. As it opened a preoccupied Teddy hurried out and smacked straight into Callie.

“Hey, sorry about that,” Teddy said glancing up in surprise as she bounced off of Callie.

“No worries,” Callie replied, holding Sofia tightly. She stepped around Teddy and into the vacant elevator. “I’ll just take Sofia to daycare,” Callie continued with a pointed look at her wife.

Arizona knew she was stuck, and let the doors close without her, “Hey Teddy, got a moment?”

“Actually, I’m on my way to a consult in the ER,” Teddy replied distractedly, her face buried in her hospital iPAD, already walking in that direction. Momentarily flummoxed, Arizona paused before doing a quick step to catch up.

“I’ll walk with you then, this’ll only take a minute.”

Arizona fell into step next to Teddy and wracked her brain for something to say. She decided to just cut to the chase.

“I’m a really crappy friend,” Arizona began.

“What?” Teddy asked, finally glancing up from her iPad.

“I’ve been avoiding you – oh, not you you, I know we see each other practically every day, but well, Callie called me out on it last night and she’s kinda right.”

“It’s okay, Arizona, I realize I’m not exactly the life of the party lately,” Teddy said.

“It’s not that. I mean, I know you’re working every shift you possibly can, and you’ve been sleeping in the Attendings’ Lounge and the last thing in the world you want to do is stop for even a second because if you stop or sleep without exhaustion forcing you to do so you’re going to think about the fact that it’s Christmas time and that just really completely sucks at the moment. If I could I’d wave a magic wand for you and make it January 10th, you know after all of the hangovers and bowl games have finally ended and most reasonable people have thrown away their exceedingly dead Christmas trees, but since I can’t I thought I’d try to help by ignoring…”

“The dead elephant in the room?” Teddy asked with a raised brow and not a tear in sight.

“Yeah,” Arizona replied softly. She sucked at this, she knew that, and she really really wanted to run away or talk about patients or something silly and keep ignoring the horrible dead elephant because if she could do that, it meant that she could also continue ignoring the fact that looking at Teddy was like looking at the Ghost of Christmas future had she not gotten her very own miracle.

“I don’t like to think about what my life would be like if Callie hadn’t survived. It’s…terrifying. But I think, I think working 24/7 makes complete and total sense to me.”

“Everyone wants me to stop, but if I stop…”

“You think.”

“Yeah.”

“So, Callie wants me to invite you to our Christmas Eve party, but I bet you’re…”

“Working. Definitely working. Both days, 48 hours if I can swing a great big pile up.”

Arizona nodded. She understood. To the point that the thought of everything that Teddy was burying beneath the work made her slightly nauseous. And while she did get it, she also got that there would be a breaking point at some point. It was inevitable.

“Listen, I don’t know how late this thing is going to go. Knowing Callie probably pretty late, but if that pile up doesn’t manifest you should come over whenever. And if you need a place to crash, or a shoulder to cry on, or a baby to snuggle, we’ve got all three.”

“Thanks, but I’m…”

“Working, I know. And I’ll let you get back to it,” Arizona said starting to back away from Teddy and towards the elevator, “But Teddy, when you’re ready to stop working, I’m here okay? And so’s Callie. Even if you want to yell at her some more, she’s…she’s really good at this type of thing, okay?”

“Okay,” Teddy said. Which might as well have been code for, ‘when hell freezes over.’

“I’m not going to stop bugging you about this,” Arizona said.

“I never thought otherwise,” Teddy replied to herself as Arizona disappeared behind the doors of the elevator.

___

December 13

Arizona sat in the lone chair that graced their living room, feet propped on the ottoman, computer on her lap, engrossed in picking another Christmas gift for her wife. She’d already bought Callie’s main gift, a beautiful emerald necklace that Arizona’s favorite jeweler had come across on a recent buying trip. Now she was admiring the numerous assorted bra and panty sets from La Perla and finding it difficult to choose just one. She’d narrowed it down to the Brunello underwire in blue/black, and the Toscana set in red.

The sound of a loud curse from the hall caused her to slam her laptop closed even as she jumped up to investigate.

Opening the door into the hall she caught sight of her wife attempting to wrestle an incredibly large, and obviously heavy box out of the elevator and into the hallway.

“Callie, what in the world is that thing?”

“It’s a grill with a roasting spit.” Arizona raised a skeptical brow as she wondered just where exactly in their apartment Callie expected to put such a thing, let alone use it.

“What size turkey are you planning again?” She asked.

“It’s not for a turkey. It’s for the pig,” Callie replied, grunting as she finally managed to get the damn thing out of the elevator.

“The pig? You mean a ham, right?”

“Nope. I mean a pig,” Callie said as if roasting an entire pig was the most natural thing in the world.

Arizona reluctantly joined Callie in the hallway to help push the box towards their apartment.

“Where exactly does one get a whole pig?” Arizona asked with a grunt as the box moved a few more feet. “And, why?”

“It’s for our Christmas Eve Party. We talked about it.” Callie said.

Together, the two of them managed to finally maneuver the box, with said pig spit, over the threshold and into their apartment.

Arizona frowned as she straightened, “You know, I think I’d have remembered a pig spit with a giant roasting pig.”

“It’s tradition,” Callie said even as she pushed the thing away from the door to take up its spot next to Rudolph. Removing her coat she frowned and then hung it off of Rudolph’s antler.

“Where are we having this party exactly?” Arizona asked, still fixated on the concept of roasting an entire pig. “Cause I don’t think pig roasting falls under the terms of our lease.”

“On the roof,” Callie replied immediately. “I’ve already talked to the landlord,” Callie replied. Spotting the recently vacated chair, Callie collapsed into it and took a long drink of Arizona’s white wine before grimacing and putting it back.

“Of course,” Arizona said from the kitchen where she was already pouring Callie a glass of red and grabbing her bottle of white to top off as she joined her wife in their chair.

Callie gratefully took her glass of wine and wrapped her other arm around Arizona’s waist, kissing her neck.

“Hey, did you talk to Teddy?”

“I did. She’s not coming.”

“Arizona…”

“No. Trust me on this. She’s going to work and she’s going to try her best to forget that it’s a holiday – and that’s okay.”

“She needs…”

“She needs for Henry to be alive. But he isn’t. And there’s nothing we can do but remind her of what she doesn’t have. Believe me. I get it.”

Callie gave her wife a comforting squeeze. They didn’t talk about the accident. For Callie it was all fairly surreal. She only remembered pieces of the accident itself and the first few weeks of her recovery had been tempered by large doses of morphine coupled with maternal hormones that had focused all of her attention on Sofia. In some ways she now realized, she’d had it easier. She couldn’t even grasp how she’d have survived had their positions been reversed.

“I love you,” Callie said.

“Me too,” Arizona replied simply giving Callie a warm kiss on the cheek and snuggling in further.

“I’m still planning on roasting a pig.”

“I know.”

----

[emperorthyme]

voicemail  [ ao3 / ff.net ]

you have [5] new messages.

Wednesday, 6:19 p.m.

“Kurapika, hi! It’s Gon! I guess you’re not next to your phone right now, but that’s okay. I just wanted to tell you I kind of…dropped my phone in the lake, so I’m using Aunt Mito’s to call you! I didn’t want you to get worried if you tried my old number and didn’t get an answer. Oh hey, Killua’s here—hey, Ki—wagh—!”

[vague scuffling and cursing]

“Kurapika, hey. It’s Killua. Gon didn’t drop his phone in the lake. He threw it. Like an idiot.”

“Killua, let go of me!”

“He said the bugs we were using weren’t big enough to lure out the really awesome fish, so he used his phone as bait. Like an idiot.”

[more scuffling, a pained grunt, then Gon, breathless]

“It’s shaped like a beetle!”

“Yeah, dummy, but what kind of beetle just sinks to the bottom of the lake?”

[…]

“A heavy one.”

“Anyway, you have to call back at this number to explain to Gon why cell phones aren’t bait.”

[brief pause as Gon silently wrestles the phone back from Killua]

“And you have to tell Killua that he can’t get mad at me just because he was using my phone to play Fortnite.”

[Killua, quietly sobbing]

“I lost everything!”

End of message. To save this message, press 1. To delete, press 2.

[1]

Message saved.

Wednesday, 11:43 a.m.

It’s Mizai. Please return this call when you get a chance, Kurapika. It is important. Please do not delete this message and ignore my texts for eighteen hours like last time.

End of message. To save this—

[2]

Message deleted.

Tuesday, 3:07 a.m.

[sung] Hellooo, Hisoka here. I don’t usually like to leave voicemails, but—

[2]

Message deleted.

Monday, 4:51 p.m.

Kurapika. It’s Leorio. You’re probably not getting these, but…I’ll try again. Last time, your inbox was full. So you must at least be emptying it. Would you check your texts from Cheadle? She’s getting, um. I guess…impatient is as good a word as any. And I know you don’t have to deal with the fallout of that, but I would really appreciate it.

[…]

Anyway. I…hope you’re listening to this. I guess I won’t know if you don’t. That’s…it’s probably better that way.

End of message. To save this message, press 1. To delete, press 2.

[…]

To save this message, press 1. To delete, press—

[1]

Message saved.

Monday, 8:36 a.m.

Hello, it’s Senritsu. I wanted to check in on you this morning. You didn’t seem quite yourself yesterday. Don’t worry. I don’t believe anyone else noticed. It’s only because I know how your heart sounds when…well.

[soft laughter]

Maybe that’s something you don’t really want to hear.

[…]

You have friends, still, Kurapika. Please do not forget that.

End of message. To save this message, press 1. To delete, press 2.

[2]

Message deleted.

You have no new messages. To review saved messages, press *.

[*]

To skip saved messages, press 1. To delete, press 2.

First saved message.

Kurapika! What the hell? September first, right?! I’ve been making excuses to Killua and Gon, but there’s only so much I can bullshit!

[…]

Damn, I could practically hear you contradicting me. See, this is why you need to get your ass over here, because if I start hearing you in my head, that means I’m gonna start sounding like you, and that would be…that would just be hell.

[…]

God, I hope this is the right number.

Second saved message.

Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got back okay to…wherever it is you’re working. Y’know, you could stand to release a little more information about shit like that. Are you a mob boss now? A contract killer? A really fancy babysitter? All three?! Hell if I know!

[muttered] Why did I call?

Oh. Right. I like your friend…Senritsu? She seems very nice, and she’s taken a liking to you for—god, who even knows what reason. But…you should stick around her. And she at least doesn’t seem the type to get into contract killing, so maybe I can write that one off.

[…]

Okay. I already know you’re not gonna call me back, but could you send a text? Oh! I got an idea. Send “A” if you’re alive, and…I guess “D” if you’re not, haha.

[…]

Shit, what a bad joke. Well, at least you probably deleted this message without listening. And if you did, then that’s what you get for letting me leave voicemails instead of just…y’know, picking up. You should do that, by the way. Just in case. N-not for me! But if Gon or Killua calls, you…you should answer, if you can. Okay?

[…]

Um. Sorry, this got…kinda long. Bye.

Third saved message.

Kurapika! I got in! I just got the letter—right now, actually. Holy shit.

[papers faintly rustling]

I…got in. It’s—it’s a really good school. Really expensive too, but...anyway. I’ll worry about that later. Damn, I really got in. I didn’t think...fuck, I was so nervous during the tests and the interviews. You know I don’t even really get nervous like that, haha. I think I ralphed after the last interview. Yeah, I...definitely did. Really hope none of the panelists used that restroom.

[…]

Okay. That’s it. I just thought I’d, uh, let you know. Whatever. You don’t need to congratulate me or anything, I just...wanted to tell you first.

[…]

[muttered] Stupid…

Fourth saved message.

Eyyy…Kuruhp-[hic]-ah…

[there are voices and music in the background, and the creak of a door opening, followed by a loud, irritated exclamation]

Oh fuck! Sorrysorrysorry!

[door slamming]

Shit…just…wanted to find somewhere quiet. I guess they did too. Haha. Oh, I dunno if you heard all that, but I walked in on some people just going to town on each other. I’m at this party. Uh…Zepile told me to come out and celebrate getting accepted into med school but I don’t think this is…really my scene. Kind of over the whole rager part of my life, right?

[…]

Oh yeah, but I did get um…totally shit-faced, haha. I just think…you’d be giving me the nastiest look right about now, and probably thinking, “This guy’s gonna be a doctor someday. He’s gonna handle scalpels.” And then you’d storm out! I’ve been kinda…doing this thing where I try to figure out what you’d be saying if you were here, and I think I’m getting [hic]…pretty good at it.

[…]

Don’t really have any point of reference, though. Because you’re not here.

[…]

Obviously.

[very, very long silence, broken by heavy, staggering breaths]

You ever kissed anyone, Kurapika?

[…]

That’s a stupid question. You’ve probably kissed a lot of people. Who wouldn’t want to kiss you? You’ve got this mouth, and it’s just…it was like kissing was invented because of your mouth. …That make sense?

And I’ve always thought that—uh—kissing is mostly just the introduction. The…appetizer, haha. I’ve just been way more interested in what’s next. But, y’know…Kurapika…I really wouldn’t be thinking that if I got to kiss you. I wouldn’t be thinking about what’s next. I think I’d just be…just be losing my mind that I got to touch you at all, and…and that you weren’t disappearing.

[…]

I’d just…keep kissing you, I think. And that would be it. And…and that would be perfect.

[Leorio chuckles. He starts humming. After about twenty seconds, the humming slips into snores.]

Fifth saved message.

Kurapika, if you’re listening to your messages, Gon is in the hospital.

[…]

It looks bad.

[…]

I hope whatever you’re doing is fucking important.

Sixth saved message.

Okay, do you know how pissed you sound in your voicemail greeting? “You have reached Kurapika. Please leave a message if the nature of your call is urgent.” Who talks like that?

[…]

Damn…I guess I thought that since you actually called me back last time you might start picking up. Clearly that was delusional. Haha. Anyway. You ever see the footage of the election speeches? Killua told me it went viral, but I figured you’ve been too busy to stay on top of all that. You better be sleeping sometimes, though. Or else.

[…]

Well, I guess that was all I got. I need to call Cheadle now…she said it was important, and I really don’t feel like getting barked at all afternoon. Bye!

Seventh saved message.

I’ve called fourteen times in the last half hour, and I will keep it up until you answer, dipshit. Leorio out.

Eighth saved message.

[silence, broken by soft hiccuping]

Kurapika…I miss you. I really miss you. I think about you…too much, and I can’t stop. I know I can’t stop, because I’ve tried to stop and I—I’m thinking about…how your neck would smell. Weird shit like that. Your ears, I…I think about those too, how they look so soft, like fucking…flower petals. You’re the prettiest goddamn person in the world, and I don’t know what to do with that, because you’re also the…the fucking most infuriating bastard I’ve ever met.

[Leorio’s voice is low and wet, he’s crying]

I-I don’t know what you want me to do, except leave you alone, but I can’t do that either, you know I can’t do that…

[quiet rustling, like someone turning over in bed]

You’re not gonna listen to this. You probably just delete all these as soon as you see them. You’re probably like, “God, him again.”

[chuckles, sniffling]

That’s fine. I guess it would make it um, awkward, if you see me again and you’re just, “Yo, what was all that about my neck and ears, pervert?” And then I’d have to explain that I’m in love with you, and…well. I guess that really wouldn’t make it better. Listen, I’m…shit, I’m drunk as hell, haha. Don’t worry…about any of this. Okay? If you’re listening. You’re not, though. You won’t.

That’s good.

[long pause, broken by quiet, irregular breathing]

Goodnight, Kurapika.

End of saved messages.

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

the inexhaustible variety of life

summary: Cyrus Goodman has isolated himself from the rest of his prep school, but will an easygoing transfer student manage to crack his shell?

pairing: tyrus

word count of chapter: 1,514

first chapter, previous chapter, next chapter

—————————

chapter 6: connections

After clinging on to someone for so long, it was hard to get used to talking to no one again.

In reality, it hadn’t even been that long, but Cyrus felt as though TJ truly understood him better than anyone else. He didn’t believe all of the shitty rumors against him, and wanted to be his friend regardless.

But now, Cyrus has shoved him out, and he would probably never talk to him again. He just proved all of the rumors right.

Luckily enough, he would be leaving within the next month to visit his parents at home for a week, so he decided to get a jumpstart on packing to get his mind off things. Off TJ.

(Although, it seemed to be practically impossible.)

Cyrus began yanking his suitcase off the top shelf of his closet in order to put a bit of his things in there, but with his luck, the suitcase wouldn’t budge. “Come on, little fucker, there’s only room for one thing stuck in the closet,” he muttered angrily.

He pulled harder, which succeeded in getting the suitcase down, but also succeeded in knocking the shelf over and making the suitcase fly at his face. “Shit!” he exclaimed, falling on his ass.

Three seconds later, he heard a knock on his door. He sauntered over to open it, expecting to see Reed taunting him again, but was instead surprised to see the curly haired girl and the pixie cut girl from the basketball game that seemed to be forever ago now.

“We heard a loud noise while going to visit our friend, are you good in here?” the curly haired one asked.

Cyrus gave them a tight lipped smile. “Yep, I’m good, just trying to pack some stuff up. My suitcase, though, is not a fan.”

“Oh! Do you need help?” the pixie cut girl volunteered excitedly.

“Andi, what about Amber?” the other one mumbled to her.

“She can wait, Buffy,” she— Andi— mumbled back, turning to face Cyrus again. “Really, we’ve got nothing going on for a while, and could use something to occupy our time. We don’t want anymore falling suitcases, do we?” she joked.

Cyrus shrugged. “I guess I could use the help. Come in,” he said, widening the door for them to pass.

After they were in, he added, “Oh, and I’m Cyrus, by the way.”

Buffy hesitated. “As in Cyrus Goodman?”

Cyrus scoffed, quirking an eyebrow. “So you’ve heard about me.”

•••

For someone who used to talk to no one, it was surprisingly difficult to avoid Cyrus Goodman.

Don’t get him wrong, there was nothing TJ wanted more than to spend time with the boy, but he figured that after the outburst on Saturday, Cyrus would want to be left alone for a while. So, TJ tried his best to give him space.

That is, until he realized how many classes they actually had together.

(Nearly all of them.)

He had to practically pry himself away from Cyrus, trying to not ask him for help with math notes or make sarcastic comments in their literature class. Which, granted, was easier to manage, considering they sat further away from one another. The worst part of it all was that in their history class, Cyrus’ assigned seat was directly in front of his. AKA, the ultimate test of TJ’s patience.

He succeeded, though. For a whole week. But then, it was Saturday again.

Cyrus wouldn’t want him there yet, would he?

Not even trying to go up and ask him, TJ made his way to the library, picked up the school’s copy of The Glass Menagerie which he needed for his next assignment, and plopped down into a seat. He flicked through it for a few minutes, making his way through the pages. He was just getting invested when he heard a voice behind him, one he expected never to speak to him again.

“Time is the longest distance between two places.”

TJ jumped slightly, turning to face a mildly disheveled and obviously tired Cyrus who leaned his weight on the shitty library chair with his hand. “Oh, hey. Nice quote,” TJ replied, feigning nonchalance but missing by a long shot.

“Nice choice of play,” Cyrus gestured toward the book, playing along.

“It’s for class.”

“Right.”

A beat of almost unbearable awkward silence fell over the two boys, and TJ was almost prepared to get up and leave when Cyrus finally spoke.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you like that, I’ve just... I had a lot going on.”

TJ leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, concern apparent in his face. “It’s okay, do you need to talk about it?”

“Um, yeah, actually,” Cyrus mumbled in reply, pulling over a plastic desk chair to sit in across from him. “I, uh...” he started, cutting himself off with a deep breath.

“Take your time, Cyrus, it’s okay,” TJ reassured him, placing his hand on his knee.

Cyrus gave him a small smile. “Thanks, I just don’t know where to start.”

“Wherever you need to.”

Cyrus breathed heavily, then began, “I used to have this one best friend. Granted, it probably wasn’t healthy, considering he’s the one that got me the rep I have now, but we were practically inseparable. We talked about everyone together, and we did a bunch of stupid shit that I guess was fun at the time, but I kinda regret it now. I trusted him with my life, though. So, when I wanted to tell him one of my deeper secrets, it was only natural that I would end up doing that.” Cyrus’ eyes were misty at that point, and TJ rubbed circles with his thumb to try and comfort him in anyway he could. “He didn’t take it so well, and he cut ties with me at the end of the school year last year.”

TJ furrowed his brows, concern, bewilderment, and a dozen other emotions running through his brain. “How bad could that secret have possibly been to make someone cut ties with you? That’s ridiculous. Whoever this guy is, he’s an idiot, because you’re one of the best people I’ve met and I know for a fact that some secret isn’t gonna change that.”

Cyrus flushed a bit and looked down at his shoes, but TJ just chalked it up to lots of emotions and deep conversation at once. “Thanks, it means a lot, but that doesn’t change the fact that he still isn’t okay with it, and recently he’s been bugging me more about it, teasing me and implying he’s gonna tell people.” Cyrus looked up, directly into TJ’s eyes, and whispered. “I’m just so scared, TJ.”

TJ removed his hand from Cyrus’ knee and placed it on his shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. “Hey. That’s completely valid, okay? But we can make it stop. We can go to the principal, make sure he doesn’t bug you again, alright?”

Cyrus nods, then shakes his head. “But if we go to the principal, he wins, doesn’t he?”

“What?”

“Then I’m the wimp.”

TJ pulled his arm back to his side. “Getting help to get out of an uncomfortable and potentially dangerous situation doesn’t make you a wimp, Cyrus. It makes you brave,” he said, instilling a sureness in Cyrus that he hadn’t had for a long time, and unfortunately reinforcing his crush on the blonde.

“Okay. Okay, let’s do it. Now,” Cyrus said, standing up, TJ following a second after.

“There is one thing, though,” TJ added as they began walking towards the office.

“What?”

TJ sighed. “There’s a chance Metcalf might not budge if he doesn’t know what your ex-friend is threatening to tell everyone, so you might have to tell him your secret. Do you think you would be comfortable with that?”

“I’m going to have to start telling people at some point, anyway, so might as well,” Cyrus replied with a sad shrug.

“What do you mean?”

“Actually, it might be best if I start with telling you, since you already know me better than most people,” Cyrus reasoned, mostly to himself, leaving TJ standing confused next to him.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, Cyrus,” TJ replied.

Cyrus stopped walking as he responded, “No, I want to, I think.” He took a quick yet stabilizing breath and looked directly into TJ’s green eyes, noticing the golden flecks for another countless time. “TJ, I’m gay.”

The contact was sudden, but certainly not unwelcome. TJ’s arms wrapped around him quickly became one of his favorite feelings as his heart began to speed up and his arms slowly rose up to reciprocate the hug. TJ murmured into his ear, “I’m so proud of you for telling me, Cy. I know how hard it is. And your ex-friend is a total asshole, by the way.”

Cyrus chuckled. “Yeah, he is.”

They pulled away after another beat and continued making their way towards the principal’s office, while TJ tried not to overthink the way he’d never wanted to let Cyrus out of his arms.