Tumgik
#I've tried bottling stuff up before and well.... It's not that good. So! At least I can vent somewhere
acourtofmarvels · 11 months
Text
Surprise - Cassian
Warnings: none really, cute fluff. mentions of sex n stuff lol
Word count: 694
"Does it hurt?" I asked sheepishly. I felt so guilty. And a little bit proud of myself, but don't tell Cassian that.
He groaned in response. I could tell he was trying not to blow up on me. I hit him pretty hard.
"I'm sorry, baby." I sat beside him on the bed. I took the ice from his hand and held it onto his head myself. "At least you don't have a concussion."
"At least we know training is working. You got me good." He tried to smile at me but only winced in the process.
"You startled me! I wasn't expecting anyone to be at the house." And I smashed a bottle of wine over his head. It wasn't a small bottle either.
Rhys told me they were gonna be gone all day and most likely wouldn't get back tomorrow. Rhys always informs me when they are on their way home, then I can expect Cassian to come and see me.
"I expect a blowjob after this." Even in pain he's horny and inappropriate. I honestly shouldn't be surprised he said that.
Cassian was... unexpected for me. This thing between us happened one night and never stopped. At some point it was just a fling, then we said we were exclusive. Next thing I know we're all in and dating. 
Our relationship never should have happened. We had a one night stand on a drunken holiday. And the next morning we slept with each other again. Cassian never did relationships. He was a go with the flow kind of guy and always said he never had the time for it.
I was just wanting sex. No strings and the kind that made your legs weak afterwards. Cassian exceeded expectations. We've been friends for so long now and I've heard from other girls I know whom he's slept with, that he's great in bed. Don't tell him this cause it will just boost his massive ego, but he's the best I've ever had.
"I feel like I should get an award for my marvelously teaching. I think I taught you too well." He groaned and layed back on the bed, taking the ice with him. "Cauldron boil me, I can't believe you got the drop on me like that. You're lucky I love you, babe. If any other person had done this to me-"
"You love me?" I blurt out, my eyes wide.
Cassian halts mid-sentence. He looked genuinely confused as if he had no clue what I just questioned. But he said it. I heard it loud and clear. I think my heart nearly stopped beating when he said it. He said he loved me.
"You just said it." I was fighting the urge to smile. Cause what if he didn't mean it? What if the hit had really messed him up. Oh shit did I rattle his brain with that wine bottle?
"I..." He cleared his throat, slowly bringing the ice down from his head to look at me. "Well, damn. I guess I did."
My heart is racing. He didn't deny it, yet. 
"D-did you mean it?" I had to ask. I would give him the way out if he needed it. This was serious for us. I mean, we didn't even want to be in a relationship at first, let alone fall in love.
A small smile crept up on his face. When he nods I feel immediately relieved. I moved over beside him, running my fingers through his hair like I always did. "Say it again." The words nearly came out as a beg.
He moaned and ran a hand down his face. "Come on, sweetheart. Don't make me say it again. It's bad enough that I said it first. That's never happened before." His arrogant tone deserved a slap on the arm from me. But then I couldn't help but climb onto his lap and attack his face with kisses. His body shakes under mine from laughing. 
"On a scale from one to ten how badly does your head really hurt? Because I don't know if you know this about me but, emotional intimacy really turns me on. And you just told me you loved me, and I sure as hell am completely head over heels in love with you. And I think we should have sex right now."
His gaze on me darkens, his hands grip my hips firmly. "Suddenly I feel a whole lot better." 
inspired by The Score by Elle Kennedy
Acotar Masterlist
407 notes · View notes
hazelnut-u-out · 4 months
Text
Hi, I actually finished a Birdrick fic I've been trying to polish for forever.
I actually didn't get around to fixing it up as much as I'd like to, but oh well. I might come back around to it, but I like the concept enough to just put it out as-is.
Mostly just a revenge era ficlet taking place after a battle similar to Blood Ridge. I really wanted to explore something about Rick fucking with timelines, soooo... this is that, but specifically dealing with Birdrick. (I think I western-coded it so... expect cowboy vibes.)
Ao3 Link!
(full text below cut, too :3)
'The Opposite of a Video-Game-Style Place-Saving Device'
2,445 words
-----
It was a cool night, high on the end of a blistering russet day. Rick flinched, pulling his vest closed and up to his chin as he flexed the limp fingers of his right hand. The evening air had a bit of a bite to it. 
Rick squinted, blinking as he looked off into the distance where a shattered flag pole stood triumphantly against the desert sky. Shakily, the scientist shuffled along the abandoned town strip, searching for anywhere a good booze find might seem promising. He felt an odd sense of tiredness brush along his bones, much like dusk swept the hazy landscape that surrounded him. 
‘Ah,’ Rick said quietly. He could see the end of the strip from where he stood. The last building was a bit difficult to make out, and Rick definitely didn’t recognize the alien language displayed on the flashing neon sign. 
Rick rubbed his chin, weighing the odds. A neon sign had to indicate the presence of alcohol, at the very least. Nodding to himself, he made up his mind and stalked in the building’s direction. 
Rick’s nimble legs stretched out in long, careful strides as he neared the front steps. Up close, he would’ve guessed the place was a liquor store– or some alien equivalent. The low, yellow light seeping into the night from the windows revealed dimly lit rows of shelves decorated with bottles of various shapes, sizes, and colors. Rick was sure the thick scent of yeast in the air was simply the result of conditioning. He had yet to encounter alien booze with a similar enough fermentation base to produce the same scent, yet he often smelled it on the air when he felt numb.
Pushing open the door, Rick tried to remember what the point of all of this was. 
He often felt stuck. Stagnant. 
When Rick encountered other people, he was aware of the aura that surrounded them all.
The funny thing about stuff like that is that you don’t notice it’s there when you’re surrounded by it. 
When you’re swimming in it yourself. 
Other people just had this thing about them– this feeling that they were going to change. 
Rick could look at Birdperson and just know he wasn’t going to be like this forever. Eventually, he’d accomplish something. He’d slow down. One day, his partner would look him in the eye and Rick would just be able to see the difference in him. There would be a glimmer of wisdom or maturity– or something that wasn’t there before. 
Rick felt… stuck. 
He’d left the loop he’d created just to get stuck in his shitty, pointless, pining 30’s for God-knows-how-many decades. 
Rick shook off the remnants of his thoughts, taking in the interior of the shop. 
Rows of shelves created a small maze that wove its way around the front of the establishment. A counter sat, unattended and obviously meant to be occupied by a species far larger than human, to his right. He took a few steps forward, letting the heavy door swing closed with an unimpressive ‘thud’. 
There was a shuffling behind the counter. Rick froze, darting his eyes to the right, his hand hovering over the laser gun at his hip. 
An ear-shattering silence settled over the scene as Rick inched closer to the counter, bending his knees and drawing his weapon. He sucked a hiss of air through his teeth. 
‘I just want–’ Rick jumped, turning to press himself flat against the front wall as a bottle flew across the counter, shattering into a splintered mess against one of the shelves. 
Birdperson stood behind the counter in a frantic stance. His eyes were wide with panic, his plume ruffled with fright, and his broad arm extended from his pitch. 
‘Jesus Christ, Pers!’ Rick called, shoving his gun back into its holster and running his hands through his hair. Bending forward and placing his hands on his knees, he panted, ‘You scared the shit outta me! I-I could’ve shot you! I would’ve shot you!’ 
‘How do you think I feel?’ Birdperson replied, throwing a dramatic, exasperated gesture at his own chest. 
Rick rolled his eyes, laughing. His friend made an effort to seem annoyed– standing up a bit straighter and smoothing the feathers along the tops of his wings– but Rick didn’t miss the humored smile that crept along Birdperson’s cheeks. 
‘What’re you doing in here?’ Rick asked. 
Birdperson gave him a glance-over before gesturing to the shelves surrounding them. ‘Great minds think alike, as you humans say.’ 
Rick patted his knees in thought before turning to peruse the aisles. ‘Wanna help me pick something out?’ he said, twitching the fingers of his left hand in a gesture for Pers to follow. 
Birdperson nodded, stepping out from behind the counter and following at Rick’s right. 
They walked for a few moments in silence, Rick occasionally gesturing out at random bottles that looked alluring as Birdperson shook his head gingerly at each. 
Rick reached out and grasped the swan-like neck of a bottle of thick, green liquid. He turned the bottle up to the light, noticing a photo of what seemed to be some sort of fruit amidst the sea of incomprehensible symbols. A blinking blue box appeared in his vision next to the image, which read:
EDIBLE; HUMAN-SAFE
MILD, USUALLY PLEASANT PSYCHOACTIVE EFFECTS
‘Let’s just try this one,’ Rick suggested, turning and shaking the bottle gently in front of BP’s face. 
‘Hmm,’ his companion shrugged. ‘Alright, but we need music.’ 
‘Aye, aye,’ Rick murmured, stuffing a hand into his pocket and pulling out a flat, round device roughly the size of a coin. Setting it on his palm, he flicked the device up, where a small cord shot from its center, tethering it to the ceiling. ‘I think I’ve only got our stuff on this one.’ 
Rick’s sad, whiny vocals reverberated softly around the room, accompanied by a slow undercurrent of light bass. 
Rick handed BP the bottle while he shrugged off his coat, folding it over his arm. The two stalked back to the counter where Rick sat his coat and threw himself clumsily on top with his feet dangling off the edge, facing his friend. Birdperson popped the cap from the bottle with a small hiss of air, and handed it to Rick. 
‘Why do I always have to open the bottles?’ Birdperson moaned, cocking his head to the side to watch Rick sniff the lip of the bottle. ‘Not that I mind, but it would be nice to be asked.’ 
Rick shrugged, surprised by the sweetness of the scent. He took a sip, cringing at the acidity, but decided it was overall pleasant. His vision was already slightly fuzzy and his head felt a bit lighter. This stuff was stout. 
‘You’re the strong one,’ Rick replied, taking a second sip and holding the bottle out for Birdperson. 
Their fingers brushed as BP grasped the neck of the bottle. ‘So?’ Birdperson brought the bottle up to his lips, taking a slow gulp before shaking his head in disgust. ‘Blegh. I hate that fruity shit you like.’ 
Rick scoffed as his friend took another drink before passing it back. ‘Okay, Mister ‘I love wine.’’ Rick emphasized the phrase with air quotes after sitting the bottle on the counter. ‘Everyone knows the strong one opens the bottles.’ 
Birdperson laughed, his cheeks flushing with what Rick assumed were the effects of the beverage. ‘The principle is that you are capable of opening them.’ 
‘No, I’m helpless,’ Rick whined sarcastically, fake pouting. He was suddenly aware of how golden Birdperson’s plume appeared in the light. ‘And you have pretty feathers.’
‘My poor human,’ Birdperson murmured, grinning a little too-wide for Rick to take him seriously. 
‘My big, strong bird,’ Rick cooed dramatically, batting his eyelashes. 
Birdperson let out a barking laugh, Rick giggling alongside him. After a long moment, Birdperson looked up, putting his hands in the air as if he could feel the song. 
‘You know,’ Birdperson said. ‘I feel like I have lived this moment before.’ 
Rick’s throat went dry, his eyes darting to his coat. 
‘Why’s that?’ He asked, trying not to panic– or even worse: forget why he was panicking altogether. 
‘I do not know.’ Birdperson shrugged, turning to face Rick. ‘This feeling I have been getting lately…’ His companion’s expression tightened, like he was trying to explain something that he didn’t understand. ‘It almost feels like losing my mind, Rick. I feel like I cannot place memories, or like some memories are… out of place.’ He waved his hands in the air, his wings twitching slightly as he met Rick’s eyes. ‘I don’t remember making this song with you, but I must have.’ 
Rick’s gut felt hollow. He plastered on a fake smile, sweat beading at his temples and his heart thudding in his ears. ‘Sounds like you’re pretty fucked up on this shit.’
Birdperson laughed, his expression softening. ‘Yes.’ He placed a clawed hand on his forehead. 
Rick felt himself relax. He let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. 
Rick watched Birdperson sway for a few minutes– or hours, he couldn’t really tell. He liked the way the different colors of the bottles warped around his body as he moved to the beat of the music. 
‘C’mere,’ Rick said after a while, beckoning for BP to come stand in front of him. 
‘What?’ Birdperson asked, stumbling over and standing between Rick’s knees, leaning in close and bracing his palms on the edge of the counter for stability. 
Rick could smell the honey-like scent of his sweat. 
The scientist reached up, picking a stray feather from his friend’s sticky cheek. ‘Feather,’ he said matter-of-factly. Placing it carefully on the tip of his finger, he held it in front of BP’s mouth. ‘Make a wish.’ 
Birdperson’s eyes flicked up to meet his own, then glanced down. 
Rick felt his semi-mechanical heart cleave itself to life beneath his ribs. It was like Birdperson’s small gasps bit at his own heated cheeks. 
Birdperson licked his lips, sighing deeply. ‘Rick, I–’ 
‘Don’t,’ Rick said, something hot and heavy tightening in his throat. He’d meant to cut his partner off harshly, but his notion came out meek and broken– his voice wavering and pained. 
‘Don’t what?’ Birdperson responded, his hand moving to rest on Rick’s lower back. His feathered brow furrowed in concern, his chapped lips pulling into a tight line. The feather fluttered to the ground with the movement, and Rick placed a shaky hand on his companion’s shoulder.
‘Just… Please don’t say anything you don’t mean, man… Not again.’ Rick reached for the bottle, bringing it back up to his lips and darting his eyes around the room in an attempt to subvert Birdperson’s contemplative gaze. 
‘Again? Rick, I can assure you that I never say things that I do not mean,’ Birdperson said, cocking his head inquisitively. 
It was usually times like this when Rick appreciated his over-familiarity with the man next to him. Far too often, others failed to recognize the tone of his companion’s statements. Rick, however, understood that BP was prompting him to explain. 
That, however, irked him– and he felt frustration bloom in his gut. He tightened his grip on the bottle, no longer drinking, but instead tapping it harshly against his lips as he mentally fumbled for the words to describe what he was sure his best friend already knew. Finally, he decided it wasn’t worth articulating. He could feel his throat beginning to close at just the thought of acknowledging it out loud. 
The bottle clinked on the surface of the counter as he spoke. ‘Well, ya could’ve fooled me.’ 
‘I…’ Birdperson leaned back, waving one hand in the air as if beckoning for words that wouldn’t seem to come to him. ‘I do not understand.’ 
Rick rolled his eyes, scoffing. ‘Do you just get off on this or something?’ 
‘Rick, please,’ Birdperson said through his teeth, obviously frustrated. ‘On what?’ 
Rick briefly thought about another life or dimension or timeline where the two would’ve simply made a joke about what it really meant to ‘get off’ on something. If only his blood wasn’t boiling beneath his skin. 
‘This, man!’ Rick shouted, throwing his hands in the air. Both of the men flinched and he quickly lowered his voice. ‘This. You love the fact that you’re all that I have. Fuck, dude. You–You’re all I–I…’ Rick took in a shaky breath, pressing his hands against his eyes. ‘This happens every time,’ he whispered meekly.
‘Are you talking about… her?’ 
Rick swallowed a dagger as his friend reached up and wiped his tears away with his thumb. He didn’t answer. 
‘Rick… I am not like her. We are not like you two were.’
Rick laughed a bitter laugh, wiping his tears and scowling at Birdperson with blurry eyes. ‘What were you going to say, then? That you love me?’ 
‘Of course I love you, Rick.’ Birdperson reached out to touch his face once again, but Rick shrunk away. 
‘Stop,’ Rick whispered. ‘Don’t… Please…’ 
‘You are my best friend. I love you,’ Birdperson said, that frustration nipping at the edges of his tone once more. ‘You can tell me anything.’ 
‘Not this,’ Rick shook his head, reaching for his jacket. ‘Not… this…’ 
God, how Rick wanted to collapse in on himself. He suddenly wished the counter was a massive beast so that he could be swallowed up whole in his idiotic, love-drunk stupor. 
Trembling, he slipped the device out of the pocket of his jacket. It fit snugly in his palm, and he felt it warm his fingers to the bone. 
‘You can,’ his companion insisted. ‘I promise.’ 
Rick looked back up to Birdperson, mustering up a weak smile. ‘Can I have a hug?’ 
More tears stung in his eyes, and he leaned into Birdperson’s touch as stalwart arms and wings wove their way around him. He let out a quiet sob, nuzzling into soft feathers. 
‘I’m sorry,’ Rick choked out, shifting the device in his palm and pressing a small button at its base. He gripped his friend tighter, breathing his scent in deeply. 
A piercing blue light engulfed them both. 
Rick blinked from his position on the counter, disoriented. Birdperson stood a few feet away from him, still dancing, stray feather on his cheek.
‘I’m calling it a night,’ Rick said sharply, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.  He clenched his jaw, biting back tears.
‘Whatever,’ BP called out, unbothered. 
Rick pulled back his sleeve, glancing down at the notification flashing on his watch screen. 
–TIMELINE MERGE SUCCESSFUL–
RICK: ELIMINATED
SPECIMEN STATUS: MERGED – ‘BIRDPERSON’
STABILITY: SATISFACTORY
----
Tumblr media
34 notes · View notes
Note
What about the oddduck asks? Do I need to break out the “bad anon” squirt bottle again?
No, I just needed someone to ask me something so I could write this 🤣
"Why are you so nervous, Smallville?" Lois asked, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek, eyes teasing. "I don't care that your best friend is a girl-"
"It's not that," he chuckled. "Y/N is... different. Not quite everyone's cup of tea."
"Is she one of those people that says she's blunt and is really just a raging bitch to everyone?" Lois asked.
"Oh gosh no," Clark said, "She's just- a little odd."
"Like 'needs to be medicated' odd or-"
"Neurodivergent odd," Clark corrected gently. "She hyperfixates on stuff and she can seem a little spacy or aloof if she's in a rabbit hole."
"Rabbit hole?"
"That's what we started calling it when she was little- Like Alice following the white Rabbit, she just sorta tumbles down until she hits the bottom."
"Cute," Lois said, crinkling her nose. "So, she's not rude just not a people person-"
"It gets better once she gets to know you," he assured her. "When we were kids I thought she didn't like me until some older boys were making fun of me and she just stood in front of me and stared at them until they went away."
"Stared at them?" Lois asked, laughing.
"Sure. The creepy little girl stare... she's still really good at it."
"And the rest is history?"
"Well yeah," he said, "Ma and Pa already knew her grandparents and they were all just thrilled we were buddies... Not like people and their kids got any nicer to her."
"Oh."
Clark nodded a little sadly, "Sometimes people would pretend to be nice to her to get to me. And other times they'd just... well. Let's just say I've broken up with people for treating her badly."
Lois nodded, understanding now why this was important. And she just hoped she could at least grin and bear it.
_________________
Clark tried not to scowl at his wife who was gleefully telling his Ma about Bruce Wayne coming to visit you when you'd been in New York to give a lecture at NYU.
But, even he had to admit, it was better Bruce than the last guy. And it was better that you weren't just alone. And that's when he heard it. The crack in your voice when you said 'Stop!'.
And he didn't want to hear you telling your mother off but he did, "I gotta go," he said, picking up his keys.
"Clark what-"
"I'll explain later but-"
"I'll make up the couch," he heard Jon call from the other room.
"And I'll heat up the pie," Martha said, watching him pause to kiss his wife on the way out the door.
"Do you want me to come?" Lois asked, stroking his cheek. "Just tell Pa to grab a jar out of the cellar," he murmured, his lips close to her ear, "and don't let ma hear you."
"Don't let Ma hear what?" Martha demanded.
"Nothing," they chourus, and before Martha can demand her son answer for himself, he's gone. To try and intercept you. Remind you that there's places where who you are is enough.
200 notes · View notes
lovelytsunoda · 1 year
Text
boy in love // clement novalak (mini fic)
summary: when marcus asks clem about the current state of his love life, they were all pretty shocked at the frenchman's answer
warnings: mentions of sex/kinks, nothing too explicit. clement is just a boy in love <3
author's note: this is so fucking self indulgent bye-
Tumblr media
"so, clem, how's y/n?" james harvey blair is the first to ask, popping another bottle of wine open. they hadn't started filming yet, the boys wanted a chance to catch up before they brought the cameras and the microphones out.
"she's good. great, actually. she had some stuff she needed to get done today, but i'm going to see her tonight. we're going book shopping, and then getting dinner." the trident driver hummed, reaching for his wineglass.
marcus armstrong coughed, choking on his drink. "you, in a bookstore? i don't even think i've ever seen you read an entire ladbible post!"
clement rolled his eyes as the guys around him laughed. "yeah, okay, laugh all you want. she was going to go on her own and meet me for dinner later but i insisted on joining her."
everybody had been shocked when clement met y/n. she was so shy and quiet and sweet, and clement was. . . well . . . clement. they had personalities that shouldn't have worked but somehow managed to meld together perfectly.
clement novalak was a boy in love. further in love, in fact, than marcus had ever seen him.
"yeah, but it's always the quiet ones, innit?" liam lawson raises an eyebrow, spreading himself out on the couch. "she's gotta be into something wild, otherwise she'd never be able to keep up with you."
they should have known that liam was going to make the conversation go there. it seemed to be the only part of having a relationship that liam was good at, as of late, with a different girl in each new city before he finally found one that put up with his shit for more than ten hours at a time.
"come on, mate. at the end of the day, that's not really any of our business, is it?" james tried in vain to shut the conversation down. "as long as clement is happy, we should be happy for him."
"it may shock you wankers to know," clement began, setting his glass on marcus' coffee table. "that i have mellowed out sexually since y/n and i have started going out."
"those are words i thought would never come out of your mouth." marcus says, finally taking a seat next to liam on the couch. "are you sure you're actually clem, not an alien from another planet?"
"very funny, armstrong. i'm serious. she's not really into anything, if i'm being honest. the first time we tried to take things a little rougher, when i tried to put a little bit of pressure on her throat, not much, just enough that we could both tell it was there, you should have seen the panic in her eyes. and i just knew that i never wanted to be the person who made her feel like that again."
"does it not get boring?" liam gawked
clement shook his head. "we have our ways of keeping it fun."
"care to share it with the group?"
clem laughed. "i'm not sure how much she's comfortable sharing, mate. i'm not trying to cross any boundaries here. but i'll precursor it with this: have you ever worn silk boxers before?"
the laughter in the room was so loud that marcus wondered if he might get noise complaints. clement wasn't sure what was so funny, but the sheer look of horror on liam's face was enough to make him burst out into laughter along with everyone else.
"i'm serious, mate. she goes wild for that sort of cliché romance kind of stuff. this feels different than every other girl i've bene with has. it's more than just a physical thing when we fuck. it's like we're making love, it's a spiritual thing. i have never felt so emotionally close to another person before."
"and that's called character development." james remarked, reaching for the wine bottle. "does anyone want another glass?"
"i think i'm going to need one if this conversation keep going." liam jokes
"please tell me that she at least gives a decent blowie."
clement's face flushed pink. "dude, i am not answering that! why are all of your questions about sex, seriously? wouldn't you rather hear about how warm and fuzzy i feel when i wake up with her in my arms, or how my knees go weak when she smiles? or about how my perception of an awesome friday night has changed from getting shitfaced with you lot to curling up with her on the couch, sharing a bowl of pretzel chips and watching criminal minds re-runs? or how content and relaxed i feel listening to her read her books out loud?"
especially when the romance books get smutty, he thinks, but doesn't say it out loud. those are always the page numbers he remembers so that they can try reenacting the scenes together later.
james and marcus shared a knowing look. it was a feeling that they knew well.
the feeling of being utterly and madly in love.
"i think i'm in love with her, man. no, wait. i don't think it."
"i know it."
372 notes · View notes
Text
Before we continue...
Tumblr media Tumblr media
THOUGHT COMPLETE: ACTUAL ART DEGREE
BONUSES:
-1 Hand/Eye Coordination: Hands shake from anger from how shit it all is Conceptualization passives heal +1 Morale and give +10 XP
SOLUTION:
Trite, contrived, mediocre, milquetoast, amateurish, infantile, cliche-and-gonorrhea-ridden paean to conformism, eye-fucked me, affront to humanity, war crime, should *literally* be tried for war crimes, resolutely shit, lacking in imagination, uninformed reimagining of, limp-wristed, premature, ill-informed attempt at, talentless fuckfest, recidivistic shitpeddler, pedantic, listless, savagely boring, just one repulsive laugh after another.
"I got this special strike brew the Union uses." (Give it.)
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Interesting." He grabs the thermal cup and shakes it. "Ah, this is what they use to keep the working man going."
Item lost: Goracy's brew
ROSEMARY - "Hey, Spiral-Boy, you gonna share that?" one of the other bums interjects.
DON'T CALL ABIGAIL - "Don't call Abigail!"
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Shut up, guys, I'm telling a story here." He turns to you. "Something happened to you. Something happened to me, too -- my actual name is George, but around here... you already know..."
"I was a once a reasonably high-net-worth individual. A founder slash junior partner at a high-concept creative services agency. When my story begins, I had just landed a major contract with an insurance firm…"
"Go on."
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "I used the profits from my agency to finance what I called a 'cultural incubator' -- abstract value generation, value per person, high-concept stuff..."
"I developed the paradigm, worked within the paradigm. But the burden of leadership weighed heavily on me, so I went jogging every so often to keep myself sane."
"Wait -- how many people did you have working for you?"
"Did the jogging help?"
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Twenty-two full-time employees. An all-star team. A potentially historical set of individuals. Worrying about them often kept me up well into the morning hours."
"Did the jogging help?"
"I could probably use a good run myself."
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "It helped, truly. With my trusty Sansarique Lickra(TM) tracksuit I felt like I could conquer the world..."
"But now dreams are worn thin, much like my tracksuit," he says thoughtfully, brushing dust off his shit-stained pants.
"What happened?"
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "One day I left on my evening run. As you may know, it's impossible to clear your head when you're distracted by the sound of keys jangling in your pockets." He shakes the bottle and makes a ringing sound.
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Medium: Success] - His eyes are clouded, his dilated blood vessels encircling his irises like stinging brambles.
CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - His eyes are your eyes.
Thanks to Actual Art Degree, we gain 10 XP and heal 1 Morale.
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "So I removed the keyring and put the keys for the front gate and the apartment into different pockets, to stop the jangling, you see. At least that was the plan..."
"I was halfway done with my usual lap when it started to rain. The reality situation became very wet, very quickly."
"How *wet* are we talking, exactly?"
"Go on."
Tumblr media
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "It was a day not unlike this one here..." You both glance skyward.
"I made my way back home and discovered that I didn't have the key to the front gate -- I'd mixed it up with the key to the letter box. Which was useless."
"Naturally, the situation required me to climb over the gate, which I did. There was no climbing down, because I slipped and landed on my ass."
"Ouch!"
"I would've landed on my feet. I've got feline reflexes."
(Say nothing.)
SAVOIR FAIRE [Challenging: Failure] - No, you don't.
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Whatever. The point is, reality was looking rather grim, just then -- me lying on my ass in a mud pit in the middle of a heavy shower. But when life knocked me down, I always got up..."
"So I made my way across the yard. Standing in front of my apartment door, fumbling with my pockets, I realized that I'd also forgotten my apartment key!"
"You've got to be shitting me!"
"Okay, so what happened next?"
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "I wish I were, Tequila. I wish I were." He turns his head towards the skies. "Instead of my apartment key, I'd taken the key to the office."
"Okay, so what happened next?"
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "I rang my neighbours' buzzers. It was late, and most of them didn't even answer. Those who did assumed I was trying to sell them something and hung up before I could even explain the situation..."
"People are naturally wary of ad men, you see. One moment someone chats you up, five minutes later you've bought a box of edible lingerie and a strap-on. I don't begrudge them, especially since I was known to be one of the best…" He pauses meaningfully.
EMPATHY [Easy: Successs] - Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Just then I experienced a moment of clarity: I still had the key to my office! I could wait out the storm there..."
"But when I reached my office I remembered that I'd asked one of my producers to change the locks that day -- and since I hired only the best, he'd already done it, and I couldn't get in…"
"Anyway, long story short, life spiralled out of control. I haven't gotten into my apartment for years, and my girlfriend left me because she didn't want to date a homeless man. The company, well, you see where I'm going with this…"
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Legendary: Success] - He pinches his thigh as if to check whether this reality is *the reality*.
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "So, now you've heard my tragic tale. What do you think? Like nothing you've ever heard, huh?" He takes a long swig of his drink.
"Wait, is that it? I feel like there are some steps missing."
"I've only been a hobo cop for a few days now, but it doesn't seem so bad."
"Look on the bright side -- you've got one hell of a story."
"You do realize all of this is your own fault?"
"I literally can't believe it."
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Tequila, I've thought about this series of events for a long time. If there was anything else to it, I would have thought of it by now."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Why didn't you go to the authorities?"
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Well, at one point they came to me, but you know, I didn't have any ID on me -- so they tossed me in jail for two days..."
"I can't say it increased my faith in the RCM. No offence, gentlemen." He shakes his head.
3. "Look on the bright side -- you've got one hell of a story."
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Yeah. Maybe I've exaggerated certain parts over the years. When you tell a story too often, it begins to take on a life of its own..."
"But what matters is that it's true to my subjective experience. Anyway, that was all the story one bottle gets you." He looks at it. "Almost empty this one…"
+5 XP
CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Truly, he has the soul of an artist.
Nice, another 10 XP and healed Morale.
Tumblr media
"What do you guys do around here?"
"Why do you keep losing all your stuff?"
"I want to hear the story of your name again."
"Have you got any more stories?"
"Be seein' you." [Leave.]
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Good fucking question, Tequila! If I knew the answer, you think I'd be hanging out on a beach in this formerly premium but now extremely dirty two-piece Lickra(TM) tracksuit?"
"I used to own my reality situation. My business buddies and I had our own creative services agency. I had a nice apartment, an even nicer piece of ass, but somehow it all got away from me..."
"Now I can't hang onto anything. Just last week I stole this nice new jacket, but then I lost it, too. The only things I haven't lost are these two drunks."
EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - You of all people should empathize with this. Perhaps this lost jacket is something you could help with...
"What was the name of your agency?"
"What's up with the tracksuit?"
"What about the other drunks?"
"What's this about a lost jacket?"
"Let me ask you something else." (Conclude.)
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "My agency, man..." He takes a long, melancholic sip. "The Boom Boom Room. Our concept was combining high art with the lowest forms of marketing -- the colour red, breasts, and oil painting..."
"I convinced my partners to reinvest some of our profits in an even-more high-concept 'cultural incubator' called 'Thin Air'. The artists were happy, the clients were happy."
"I was financing a group of poets in East Revachol who were developing a new, universal poetic language… but then it all went to shit…" He looks toward the bay.
CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Sounds intriguing. What say you, art cop?
LOGIC [Medium: Success] - If it sounds like it makes no sense, that's because it doesn't.
14 notes · View notes
wizardfrog69 · 9 months
Note
Helloooooo‼️‼️ Good morning/afternoon/evening cause idk what timezonenyou're in. :)) This request has suicide stuff in it so obviously you don't have to do it if you're not comfortable with that‼️
Basically, reader who is a minor (it's more dramatic if it's a child 🥰) is with the DOA. They already want to die, and tried a few times but Nikolai ended up saving them, because they still need them for one of Fyodor's goofy plans. And this time, the reader is just like "oh hi Fyodor pls kill me"
What would happen??? Would they die? Would anyone care if they die??? OoooOOOoOOoOOOoO
Thanks for reading this, and before you think anything weird, no I'm not gonna slide in the sewer, I'm just feeling silly
Byyye, love your works!!❤🧡💛💚💙💜 rainbow hearts cause you're gay 🥰
Omg I love this request, and thanks for making me laugh. And I'm in the European timezone, so it's morning for me. Good evening or afternoon, I'm assuming, but afternoon/morning/night
'•.¸♡ Let me die ♡¸.•'
Warning!!!! This contains a child wanting to commit SUICIDE and dying!!!!
If this subject is triggering in any way, please do not read! Your mental well-being is more important!
Angst (platonic)
Warnings! Suicide, description of suicide attempt (consuming rat poison), self hate
I know this subject can be very triggering, especially since the character is a child, so please continue at your own risk and please take care.
Masterlist
Enjoy!
Fyodor/Nikolai x child reader (platonic)
Tumblr media
This mentions suicide!!! A child wants to die in this!!
First point of view
I was forced into an organisation called the decay of angels. From the name alone, i should have guessed what it was about, but I didn't. How could I? There's a reason I want to die.
The people there are horrible, there's a guy, his name was Fyodor or something, he never comes out of his office and has this brutally cold look in his eyes, like he wants me dead. Then there's this clown... Nikolai was his name. The only nice person here is some guy named Sigma, but I can barely see or talk to him. Everywhere I go, it sucks but what else am I supposed to do?
I've had enough, enough of these people and enough of this world. I found a bottle almost full of rat poison. Since it's poison, it should kill me, no? I'll just drink the whole thing. But where? Here? No, I shouldn't. Someone might try and stop me, but would they? No, im useless. No one will ever try to save me.
I stand there, looking at the warnings on the bottle, I open it and sniff it. It smells... like fish? I cover my nose after smelling it. It smells like shit! Ew. I'm a bit hesitant to drink it. It smells like fish, so it must taste worse. Well, if I'm going to go out, I might as well go out with something that smells like shit.
I bring it to my mouth, but before I drink it, I feel a hand take it way, then my hand disappeared! What the hell! I look over and see the clown, Nikolai. That's my hand! My hand is in the air! I tried to move it, and I accidentally dropped the poison. Shit!
"Hey, let go!" I shout, he's not that far away, I know he heard me. He did so and walked up to me. "Don't kill yourself! We still need you!" He responded, he wasn't even worried! Does he not care??? What I-! Ah! "Why? What for?!" "Come with me." He took my hand and led me into the office of the cold guy.
He didn't even knock and simply walked in, still holding my hand. "Hey, dostoy~" He exclaimed. He never talked to me like that! How rude. "We still need this one, don't we?" He points to me. This one??? He could have at least not called me this one! The cold guy- Fyodor, looked at him and simply responded "yes". Fuck it! Maybe he can help me die. I walked up to him, the clown letting go of me while I walked up to the cold. "Fyodor, can you kill me?" I asked. Maybe he'll agree. I swear if he pulls the 'Oh but you're too younge to die!' Or 'you're just being dramatic' shit I'm gonna punch him. "You're already dead." The said plainly. What? I'm already dead? What is that supposed to mean?.... That... I was going to die at the end of his plan anyway?... Oh, that. It's what I want, isn't it? "Thanks." i leave, the clown staying behind.
It's what I wanted, I wanted to die, and now my death is final... shouldn't I be happy? Shouldn't I be relieved?... why do I feel this way....
Why am I crying....
༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻
Such a silly request :)
Idk why I made them cry at the end, ehm, yeah :)
Have a wonderful day/night, and idk, do whatever makes you happy :)
-with lots of love, Az
44 notes · View notes
bonesandthebees · 10 months
Note
Hello! If you do have any recommendations for skincare I would like them, acne is annoying lmao
OH BOY YES I DO!
okay so all skin has different sensitivities and needs and all that so what works for me might not work for you. there's a lot of different avenues you can go down for acne treatment but I'll try to go through things I know work for most people
this is gonna be long so putting it under a read more
first off, you gotta be washing your face twice a day if you don't already. I use cetaphil daily face wash which you can find in most drugstores, but another drugstore brand I've heard is very good is cervave! both brands have several different kinds of face wash, some that are more specific for acne, some that are hydrating if you have issues with dry skin, and some that are made for sensitive skin if you deal with irritation. I'd go through the different products they have and see what looks like it'd work best for you
most acne-specific face products use salicylic acid since that's a chemical proven to reduce oil and all that, but if you've used salicylic acid stuff and don't notice any improvement, you might want to try benzoyl peroxide acne products! panoxyl is another drugstore brand that carries acne face and body washes with benzoyl peroxide, and I use that for my chest and back acne (jury is still out as to if its actually helping or not. I'm still trying to figure out if salicylic acid or benzoyl peroxide works better. do your research on both to see which one will work better for you!)
now if you want to add more than just face wash there is a whole variety of serums out there! my god tier, number one serum that I don't know how I lived without until now is niacinamide. niacinamide has been proven through research trials to be effective in reducing the amount of sebum (oil produced from your pores) your skin produces, and also reduces redness in skin. there are a lot of serums you can get that's a mix of stuff with niacinamide in it, but if you want a serum that's just straight up niacinamide (which I would recommend if you want to test out if it actually benefits you) both good molecules and the ordinary sell bottles of it for $6. the ordinary's serum is 10% niacinamide with 1% zinc, with the zinc there because I guess it's hydrating? good molecules is just 10% niacinamide without any zinc. there really isn't much of a difference between the two products, but for some reason good molecules serum worked way better for my skin than the ordinary's did, although I've known plenty of people who use the ordinary's version and love it.
(note: while both bottles say you can apply these niacinamide serums twice a day, in clinical trials it was shown that 5% niacinamide is what's effective on skin and they have no evidence higher concentrations does anything. so since these are both 10% niacinamide, you might want to just apply it once a day to reduce any risk of irritation)
if you have oily skin you might be hesitant about using moisturizer, but you have to use it bc if you try to dry your skin out your skin will just produce excess oil in response. what you want to look for in a face moisturizer is anything that's oil-free and non-comedogenic, which means it won't clog your pores. ideally, get a moisturizer that has spf in it as well (at least spf 30), that way you don't have to add an extra step to apply sunscreen on your face every day. right now I use cetaphil's daily face moisturizer with spf 35, but before that when I was a teen I used cetaphil's dermacontrol oil absorbing moisturizer with spf 30. the difference is that the dermacontrol is a bit more expensive, but it works to reduce the oil on your face so it's for people who really struggle with oily acne-prone skin. both products are oil-free and non-comedogenic so neither one will clog your pores. which one you use just depends on how oily your skin is
as far as taking care of individual pimples, while I've tried spot treatments with salicylic acid from the ordinary and good molecules, I don't really notice them doing much for me. what DOES make a difference is hydrocolloid pimple patches which dry out the skin and can really help reduce pimples. I like panoxyl's pimple patches, and you can get a pack of 40 for $8-$10
these are just the essentials for me! if you want any more 'special' products like masks or exfoiliants or oils lmk and I'll make a post about those but this is already long enough lol. I linked the products to their brand websites but you can find most of these either in drugstores, on amazon, or in stores like ulta or sephora
hope this helps!
27 notes · View notes
finniestoncrane · 1 year
Note
Hi! Hope you don't mind but may I request a #9? (Also, congrats on the 1k milestone!)
I'm Filipino but was raised in America for majority of my life. I enjoy reading/writing fiction since it allows me to escape reality, even for a slightest moment. Same why I enjoy drawing as well, as it let's be get lost in the world of possibilities and imagination.
For the most part, when I'm on my own, I'm rather withdrawn and silent. More of a listener than a speaker since I get nervous/anxious interacting with others, not to mention, it was how I was raised. When I'm with others I know and trust, I can be loud, chaotic, relaxed, feeling no need to hide, and be able to speak of my thoughts, problems, and worries with more ease. Though, I'd still need to recharge from too many social interactions at times.
I tend to hyperfixiate on stuff, jumping from one focus to another. It can get hectic, to the point where I might neglect taking care of myself with how invested I'm in it. Sometimes, it might last from a mere week to almost a year or two (longest was 4 years but it was surprisingly not chaotic like the others I've had cause it was mainly me just reading about... 4,000+ works worth of fanfics? At least, that's just a close estimation. Lost count after that).
I try to think logically but sometimes, my emotions might get in the way. Doesn't help when I tend to bottle up the more negative ones.
(Unsure if this is enough info bout myself. Hope this be enough, though!)
🎀 No.9: Ever Fallen In Love With Someone 🎀
tell me a little bit about yourself and i'll give you a rogue pairing a/n: this was plenty to let me know who i was giving you!! the goodest boy 💚 1k milestone info! 🔞minors dni🔞 • kofi • tag: finnie1k
Tumblr media
so first of all, the escape from reality thing hit me as something bane does, although his methods are a bit more destructive and involve copious amounts of venom, but i think he needs someone to show him better methods. creativity would be such a good outlet for him, and someone to teach him how to be creative would be good, and i don't know, from the way you speak (type) it feels like you would be very patient and giving when it came to helping someone learn a new skill
he's quiet too, i imagine. spending developemental years in a prison with no friends your own age would make you withdrawn, and a bit unlikely to strike up conversations with just anyone. but he's a big guy, so he has to put on a facade of bravery even when he can't be truly tough, but like you he would need time to power up his social battery before going at it again
the only problem is that he's a listener too, but i feel like it would be so much more beneficial to you both to sit in comfortable silence and just enjoy each other's company
he's got an addictive personality, so hyperfixations are something he could understand. but he's not lost as easily, and he's deeply soft and sensitive so it would become his favourite thing to take care of you while your brain is busy doing other stuff. and if he has to drag you away from ao3 with his bare hands he will, and he's strong, so you know he'll succeed
he's not stupid, he tries to be logical too. but his emotions, specifically his temper, get the better of him. but maybe you two could open up to each other, share in the negatives and try and focus more on the positives
i doubt he's ever really expressed the pain of his childhood, and someone who can understand bottling things up would feel like a safe person to finally open up to
18 notes · View notes
docgold13 · 1 year
Note
Can consistent sleep deprivation cause irreversible damage to the brain? Ever since January I've slipped into what has to be the worst and unhealthiest sleep pattern in my life yet, and the most I've managed to sleep in a night was like 4 hours (I couldn't even fall back asleep afterwards), more often than not less or even none, not to mention that I tend to stay up at night. I fall asleep in the late afternoon and evening and sleep up to 4 hours then. I'm not even 25 yet, so my brain is still developing... I don't use or abuse any substances.
Hey
As someone who has also struggled with sleep difficulties, I can relate.  
There’s good news and bad news.  The bad news is that sleep deprivation very much does impact the brain and neurological functioning.  Indeed one of the central processes culminated sleep deprivation can impact is the reward center; those features in the brain that effectively release nice bursts of dopamine, serotonin and norepinephrine in reaction to accomplishing some form of goal.  In short, if you don’t get enough sleep, things that are normally enjoyable become no longer fun and things that are arduous feel even more so.  Not getting enough sleep sucks!
Elongated sleep deprivation begins to then effect global cognitive functioning, slowing down reaction times, complex thinking even basic reasoning.  And severe sleep deprivation can bring about delusions, hallucination and paranoid ideation.  
Pervasive sleep deprivation can permanently negatively impact the brain... but that takes years.
The good news is that the brain is a highly plastic organ that quickly recovers from the types of harm poor sleep inflicts.  At your age, your brain is still extremely malleable and resilient to harm.  Although you are suffering now, there is no need to fear that you are looking at long term impairment.  
That said, this certainly sounds like matter you want to address as quickly as possible.  There are three major avenues for dealing with situation:
The first is schedule.  I’ve come to accept that I have a terrible time going to sleep.  Fortunately I work for myself and have control over my own schedule.  Hence I almost never see patients in the morning.  I start work in the afternoon and work well into the evening.  In short, I’ve accommodated my schedule around my own circadian rhythms and make sure I can get at least five to seven hours a night even if it means sleeping in till the late morning.  It is still a struggle, but I think I’ve worked around avoiding the more deleterious aspects of my sleep struggles.
Granted, not everyone has the privilege of making their own schedule. 
The second step is improved sleep hygiene. Sleep hygiene basically means trying to go to bed at the same time every night.  Restricting stimulating engagement prior to bed (no video games, no tic tock, none of that stuff for at least an hour before bedtime). Sleep in a dark room, with the tv off and as little noise as possible (even if it means using ear plugs and/or a sleep mask).  It takes work, but following these parameters definitely helps.  Granted I’m fully aware of just how difficult it can be to practice good sleep hygiene… I must admit that I’m often not particularly good at it.
The third step (if needed) is the use of sleep aides. At risk of sounding like a pitch man for Ambian, that stuff has been a godsend for me.  I take a generic version of ambian and I love it.  I don’t even need to take it every night.  Just having the bottle in the drawer of my bedside table is enough to take the pressure off of needing to be able to fall asleep.  When I do use it, I’ll take it in order to get myself back into a rhythm of getting enough sleep… meaning I’ll take it three nights in a row and then can usually go a week or two before I’ll need it again.  
Over the counter sleep aides can also be helpful.  Z-Quill, Melatonin, and the like are all safe.  I haven’t tried the stuff utilizing CBD but maybe that stuff is good too.    I understand that some may be averse to using sleep aides… worried about the health risks and whatnot.  I understand, but whatever health risks that may be entailed in the use of these medicines pale significantly compared to elongated poor sleep.  
Hope this helps and I hope you feel better soon.   
11 notes · View notes
geocait0815 · 2 years
Text
The Heist - Part 12
This is a fanfiction game which starts here.
You can find the previous chapters here: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
Or you can refer to the dedicated hashtag #duskwood the heist
As we move towards the living room, the source of the commotion becomes obvious: The chair we had tied Tim to is toppled over and broken. Pieces of duct tape litter the floor towards the back entrance like breadcrumbs.
“Fuck...” I say while Jake turns around to face me. “We have to get out of here, immediately!”
I nod. “Can you grab a few provisions while I pack a change of clothes?“ Judging from the look on his face, Jake is about to argue that there is time to pack anything. “It'll be just a minute. There is durable food and bottled water in the pantry. And some camping gear that might be useful. Have a look.” I gesture towards a door in the corner of my kitchen.
Then I rush into my bedroom. Years of last minute business trips have prepared me for this moment. Within a few minutes I have everything I need in a duffle including a bag with all bathroom necesities, that I always have ready to go. Before I leave the room I stuff my laptop and tablet, both currently turned off, into the duffle, as well as a few items from my nightstand and the trusty first-aid kit.
Getting back to the living room I notice that Jake is still rummaging through the panrty, stuffing things into one of my old backpacks. I use the time to take out my phone and shoot a text to my work bestie Debbie. No words, just three emojis: Two trees and a bomb. Questionmark. The response follows just seconds later. Thumbs up.
Debbies husband, now ex, had the bad habit of being overly curious about her private conversations and a bad temper over their contents. So we developed our own little code over the years. I had just asked her to borrow her vacation home, a remote cottage about an hour away in the woods.
Jake comes over, carrying the backpack. “What is going on?” While grabbing my keys and locking the back door again, I say: “I know where we can go. Not quite as good as our remote island but at least it also has wifi.”
We leave the house through the front door. Jake walks out first, carefully observing the surroundings. I point towards my car and we swiftly cross the lawn towards it. We get in, me behind the wheel and Jake on the passengers seat.
A few minutes of silent driving go by. We are both tense and constantly check the traffic behind us if there is anyone following us. But as we reach the highway, we both relax a little.
We should probably talk about our situation and make a plan. But we are also both exhausted and I need to concentrate on my driving. I can sense that Jake tries hard to not doze off. I move my hand from the gear shift to his knee, which makes him flinch. But he immediately settles back into his seat. “Hey, try to close your eyes for a while. I've got this. We'll arrive in about an hour.”
“I'd prefer to know where we're going”, he responds. Rolling my eyes, I say: “I'll draw you a map.”
Despite his efforts, he is out within five minutes.
********************
The last few hundreds of meters to the house take us over a forest path. It is a rough ride and rattles Jake awake. “Good morning, sunshine”, I chirp. “Sorry about that.” I park the car around the small wooden house so it won't be immediately visible if someone happens to pass by.
We get out of the car and Jake grabs our bags. “So, where are we?”, he asks. “This is my friends week-end getaway, “ I explain. “The next town is about 20 minutes that way” I gesture towards what I think is East. “There is not much to show here. We came via the only access road. Around the back of the house there is a path that leads to the lake. There are a few boats. No motors.” I lead the way towards the door. “There is no key but a number pad.” I show him the code and we enter. The cottage is clearly not bigger on the inside. There is just one room. The main space is occupied by a cozy living room with fireplace and an open kitchen. The only other door leads to a tiny but fully equipped bathroom. A ladder leads to a platform with a bed just under the roof.
I kick off my shoes and collapse onto the couch. Jake immediately joins me. “We need to talk strategy,” he states. I nod and shift my weight to lean against his shoulder.
A thought crosses my mind: “How did they get to us this quick? Do you think they have an informant in the FBI?” I look up and meet his gaze. There is an expression in his eyes I can't quite read. “Good thought”, he sighs. “This is definitively a possibility that also crossed my mind.”
“I find the entire behaviour of these ... 'Agents' ” - I put the last word in air quotes - “really strange. First they recruit us to do their dirty work. Then, no follow up, no detailed information. And don't get me started on what happened to your eye last night...” He looks away. Okay, still no elaboration, I think.
After a moment of silence, Jake speaks up again. “Let's discuss what we know so far.” I nod, and smile. This feels familiar. “Yep. I'll make us some coffee in the meantime.” While I get up and grab some capsules that fit into the fancy coffee maker, Jake starts to summarize: “We are tasked to retrieve evidence from the private residence of Master.”
“One question”; I interrupt. “What's up with this Master business?” “Oh, well. This is an old habit, I think”, Jake responds. He seems a bit flustered. “Master is Marks screen name.” “I see. Go on.”
“The nature or exact location of said evidence is unknown to us so far.” “I guess we will know it when we see it.” I place two cups of coffee on the table in fron of the couch and reclaim my spot beside Jake.
“I remember Agent Michaels saying that we need to infiltrate the 'residence'.” More airquotes. “This sounded to me like we are not looking for any digital files. What do you think, Jake?” “Maybe the data is on an air-gapped system, which would mean...” “...that we likely won't be able to get to it by hacking it from the outside”, I finish his sentence. This time I can read the expression in his eyes like an open book: Surprise mixed with pride. I flash him a grin and a wink over my coffee mug.
“So. What now?”, I ask.
------------------------------
@renneiscent you're up!
Also, I noticed that we are having a wild mix of writing in present and past tense. I took the liberty of returning to writing in the present :D
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
52 notes · View notes
the-blind-paladin · 11 months
Text
My little light part 4
It took Luz a few minutes to find clean clothes and prepare for the shower properly. Setting up the shower and getting undressed was the easy part however once relaxed enough by the warm water she found her next obstacle. Which bottle was body wash, conditioner or shampoo? After switching between them she ended up using all three on both her body and hair unable to be certain which was which. Bodywash in her hair wouldn't be too horrible and using shampoo and conditioner on her body also wouldn't be world-ending. Yet it did leave a slightly bitter taste in her mouth that she couldn't tell. After her shower and getting dry, she had to be careful not to put the same clothes back on and negate the whole idea of having a shower. Putting them in her dirty laundry she slowly made her way back downstairs.
Everything almost felt unnecessarily harder, she knew sight was important but having relied on it for so long it felt horrible not being able to use it. She knew she just had to trust that the goo would at least restore part of her vision even if it was blotchy and blurry she could get some powerful glasses or something. Even if her vision was never the same she started not to care anymore. Making it back to her spot in the kitchen she decided to rest her head on the table. Unsure what she should do or say. She soon felt Eda ruffle her hair while sitting nearby. 
"I'm going to put more of that gunk over your eyes" She could hear Eda messing with it as she nodded.
"Okay, and in a few days I'll hopefully have at least some of my vision back" She smiled optimistically yet when Eda didn't immediately reply she realized that it was more likely not going to help. Not if it hadn't already healed partly. 
"Hopefully, that's the idea" She felt Eda ruffle her hair. Closing her eyes she let Eda apply more of the goop around her eyes and head while bandaging it back up. "I ended up actually putting some of that strong healing stuff in it as well so if you get side effects from it tell me and I'll redo it."
"I thought the magic in it was too strong?" She felt curious about this change of idea.
"It is by itself but hopefully the other stuff helped dilute it enough it shouldn't be too strong." Eda seemed to have finished up as she heard Eda by the sink.
"If I'm still on bed rest does that mean I won't be able to go to school tomorrow?" 
"If you really want to go I'll check on you in the morning and fly you. However, you'll probably have to stick around your friends for obvious reasons." She knew Eda meant so she wouldn't get lost or fell downstairs or something equally embarrassing and stupid. 
"I'm sure Willow, Gus and Amity would love having my company all day," she thought about if she had friends in the other tracks. Viney was in beast keeping and healing but like Edric, she was in a different class... Skara was in Bard at least. Plants, abomination, illusion and bard. Not the best but also not the worst tracks not that there were worst tracks just more was better.
"Then we'll see how you feel in the morning" She felt Eda rub her hair while leaving the kitchen with probably apple blood Luz couldn't be sure. Unsure what to do she got up and headed upstairs before feeling around. Finding a good stick she got an idea as she used it to get downstairs a little faster and headed into the lounge.
"And where are you going?" Hearing Eda she smiled.
"Just a small walk, I've been cooped up inside all weekend" a pause, maybe she should've tried sneaking out?
"Fine, but take Owlbert in case you get lost."
"Sure, but I'm not going to get lost" She felt the palisman land on her shoulder. 
"Yeah, yeah, sure" She rolled her eyes at Eda's reply and headed outside. Using her stick she started to walk around the nearby woods, enjoying the feeling of sunlight and shade from the trees. As she walked around nothing much really happened before she found a nice rock she used for navigation originally and laid on it. The warm sun felt much nicer than hanging around her room or inside and the warm rock helped warm her up. After a while, she felt Owlbert try and pull her sleeve to the owl house.
"Five more minutes~" Luz half-joked before feeling Owlbert nip her finger. "Okay, okay, let's head back" She followed Owlberts lead before noticing him trying to lead her to the back of the Owl house rather than the front. Ignoring him once she realized this she snuck closer to the front hearing Hooty on the attack. Doing her best to stay hidden not actually wanting to join in on the fighting she listed to Hooty kick butt. When she felt Owlbert pull on her hood she followed the palisman back inside while thinking.
"hey, Luz it's good you're back I was about to go look for you actually"
"It sounds like Hooty is having a fun time beating up coven goons" Luz smiled thinking about what it might look like seeing Hooty attacking guards. It wasn't the hardest thing to picture.
"I don't think you should walk around the woods alone with the guards around like they appear to be. I didn't expect them to be this many roaming around" Luz paused hearing that.
"So I should stay inside or?"
"Just around the owl house until there are fewer guards around"
Nodding she made her way upstairs. "I'm going to go rest in my room for a little bit" She smiled the best she could before making her way to her room unsure how to feel. It wasn't like walking around the woods was her favourite thing but it also wasn't like she could actually do what she enjoyed doing.
Laying on her sleeping bag she looked up at the ceiling despite not actually being able to see it as her mind wandered around. Both how she was going to fix the door if she couldn't see the clues in front of her, to how she would even explain it to her mama. A realm full of demons and magic was intense but being blinded by it wasn't going to be a good selling point. Groaning she rolled over as her mind kept winding around itself like a ball of yarn that only tightened the more you tugged at it. Eventually, she heard a soft knock on her door as she sat up.
"Yeah?"
"Eda told me to get you for dinner" she heard King from the doorway before hearing him run off probably to go eat his dinner. Getting up she made her way downstairs while thinking about how long she had actually been on the rock sunbathing or if she had taken a nap while in her sleeping bag without realizing it. Taking her spot at the table she smiled happily when she heard Eda put a plate in front of her.
"Thanks, Eda smells good" she smiled happily before starting to dig in happily.
"Good, I'd be worried if it smelt bad" Eda seemed to joke back making her giggle softly as she kept digging in. The only weird part was figuring out which bit of the plate was what and how much of what she had. However, it wasn't too hard when all of it was stuff she liked to eat and could eat. When she was finished eating she heard Eda take her plate away while smiling more at her.
"Thank Eda, I might go to bed early so I can get up early enough for school" she 
"determined to go to school tomorrow huh?"
"No point in hanging around the owl house all day every day when I could hang around my friends and try and learn more about magic" Luz smiled happily. Having the second thought about getting used to walking around without sight although she still tried to hope that the goop just needed some more time. It had to just need more time, that was all it needed.
"Okay, I'll wake you up for school but if you're tired don't force yourself to go. It's better to get as much bed rest as you can" She nodded at Eda while getting up and heading to her bedroom.
making it to her bedroom she found her sleeping bag and laid down. Thinking she wondered if bed rest would actually help at that point. It didn't feel like her body was trying to heal she just felt like she was laying around doing nothing. Even her face had stopped hurting altogether. Staring into the void she sighed before rolling over and trying to fall asleep.
When she woke up she could almost sense someone nearby. Sitting up she jumped a bit when she felt a palisman land on top of her head.
"Lil Rascal?" hearing the chirp she smiled more raising her hand up to pet the cardinal.
"How are you feeling?" she smiled towards Hunter's voice.
"A lot better actually" She sat up a bit more to give the boy enough room to sit on her sleeping bag if he wanted to not that it felt like he accepted it. "Eda ended up using some of the healing stuff you left last time when she changed the bandages. However, she did say it by itself would have been too strong" 
"what was it like when she changed the bandages? like when they were off could you see anything?" hearing Hunter sound hesitant she wanted to say that, 'Yes, I could see perfectly well' yet she also didn't want to lie to him. 
"I still couldn't see anything but maybe it just needs more time to work"  Even saying it she felt like it wasn't true like it would've helped somewhat already.
"And your sure it's not ...permanent?" she felt Hunter gently cup her cheek as she rested her head in his hand.
"I- I don't know if it will be or not. However, I can choose to keep hoping it's not until it's proven one way or another. I doubt Eda would waste ingredients if she didn't think there was at least a chance"
"How are you always so upbeat and happy?" she couldn't help but giggle a bit at his question. "what?"
"I don't know how, I guess I just try my best to see the bright side of situations." 'and avoid thinking about all the negative things like how I'll get home.' she mentally added. When she felt Hunter move his hand she carefully grabbed it gently putting it back on her cheek. Something about the gentle touch made her feel warm and calmer. Her mind went back to what Eda had said about having a crush on Hunter.
"Is there anything I could do to help?" closing her eyes she smiled towards Hunter.
"Stay here as long as you can" Having the feeling Belos wouldn't be happy if he found out about these night meetings she didn't want to risk him getting in trouble but something about having him there felt nice. Part of her felt like she shouldn't feel this way, he was the reason she couldn't see she should hate him. That was how that was supposed to work, right?
"I'll stay here as long as you need me to" Hearing that she hesitated before carefully following his arm so she could hug him, feeling him tense up before hugging her back. "would you like to read more of that ridiculous book?" she couldn't help but giggle hearing it confirmed he didn't like it.
"You don't have to. Why don't you read me a story you like?" she felt him gently move them so they were laying down.
"I think I might be able to recall an old story I occasionally got Darius to read me as a bedtime story." she cuddled into him while smiling at him.
"Yeah?" she started to settle down as Hunter started to tell what definitely sounded like a boiling Isles bedtime story as it started with a whole village of witches bullying a large demon. He went into description about how the scaly creature was large, heavy and able to absorb any spell any witch could cast. The creature however was slow, so slow young witches could run across its tail and climb on top of its back while poking and pulling at its eyes, ears, scales and whatever they could grab onto. Despite it being bullied by witches, it was also bullied by the other demons for being passive towards the very witches that hunt their kind down. While everyone was scared of it they still would attack and jeer at the demon knowing it wouldn't do anything as it neither belonged with the other demons nor witches. As he went on about how the witches would poke it and jab at it she started to feel bad for the demon not that she was entirely sure that was the point yet. As the story went on Hunter spoke about how the demon soon came up with a plan to go to the king of demons it begged for a new body. However, its request was denied as it was a large tank and could handle the jabs from the witches. Unable to get help from the King it headed off. On the way back it ran into a small crying witch, finding out they were lost the demon returned them to town. For the first time instead of fear and hate it received gratitude from the witch's family for returning their lost child in the form of fruits. It soon returned to the woods roaming around, sniffing out lost and injured witches. For if it comes across a lost witch it will offer them a ride on its smooth back offering them a ride back to the nearest town. As it stands to that day its kind is still out there roaming the Titan looking for lost witches to return home, for it's the only thing that seemed to give the demon the gratitude it desperately desired from those around it. Listening she stayed cuddled up into Hunter as she thought about what it would be like to be attacked by both witches and demons. 
"So the demon was a misfit who fit in by helping those around it?" She could hear Hunter humming softly.
"They usually have the moral spelled out at the end but Darius never told me the moral. I always assumed it was to always help those who need it even if their kind has wronged you in the past."
"Because nobody should suffer for what someone else did?" Luz smiled happily
"I guess so, I never really thought about the morals of the story. It could even just be to explain why there's a kind of demon that goes around rescuing lost witches" She felt Hunter shrug.
"Wait that's an actual species of demon?"
"yeah, but it's not as magic proof as the story says. However, it is really hard to take them down not that you'd want to. Ya know since they're peaceful." she nodded softly unable to think about why someone would attack a passive creature that only helped others.
"I think I'd like to meet one" She smiled warmly thinking about the idea of meeting a large friendly demon.
"I don't think you do, since they help lost witches and that would mean you'd have to be lost on the Isles and there's always the chance it won't be the first demon to find you." she could feel Hunter tense up a bit as she thought about it.
"I'm not going to purposely get myself lost to meet a demon" she reassured him while cuddling into him more so she could bury her face into him, feeling him tense up almost more. Before she could wonder if she was being too cuddly she felt him gently rub her back.
"Good, because then you'd be the idiot instead of me" she tried not to laugh.
"You're not an idiot, you're actually really smart about a lot of different things"
"I've been acting like one" She buried her face into him.
"Have you now?" she tried to tease gently.
"for starters, I might have permanently hurt the first person outside the castle who actually seemed to somewhat care about me, then there's sneaking out every night which will become pretty obvious soon, I stole from the head of the healing coven which probably pissed her off, I couldn't do my one job in bringing in a certain human and witch because... I don't even know why... why do you seem happy when I visit despite what happened? why don't you hate me? you should hate my guts" Listening she didn't have to see to know there were probably tears at the corner of his eyes even if he'd deny it. Why didn't she hate him? 
"I don't hate you because I know you never meant to hurt me. If you meant to hurt me you would've done it when we first started fighting each other. Having you visit only confirmed you felt bad meaning it wasn't on propose-"
"of course it wasn't I would've rather blinded myself than hurt you" Hearing that she paused for a second before shaking her head.
"I'm safe here, how safe would you be if you went blind?" she could feel him flinch as she stayed where she was. Something about Belos made her believe if Hunter wasn't useful to him he would've hurt him or worse.
"I'd probably have to learn how to fight while blind" That got her thinking. She had seen shows with superheroes who fought blind maybe she could actually learn how to do that.
"That's a good idea maybe I could learn how to fight blind" She felt Hunter rub her back.
"I don't think you should prioritize fighting first" There seemed to be a soft smile behind his voice.
"true I'd have to learn how to get around more comfortably first, maybe you could even help me learn how to fly palisman while blind" She had the soft doubt she'd be able to fly blind but maybe if Lil Rascal or Owlbert took main control of where they flew while she focused on not falling off it could work. "either way I'm going to hold out hope that the goop just needs more time to work. Maybe I'll end up with big ol' glasses"
"I think glasses would like nice on you" She tried not to blush while smiling more.
"That's good, I'm glad you think I could pull off glasses" 
"You should get some sleep and I should probably head back before someone notices I'm gone again" Hunter didn't sound like he wanted to go but she nodded.
"Yeah, I have school tomorrow"
"then you should definitely be asleep, it's nearly midnight" She felt Hunter move to get up and paused for a second before deciding to kiss the back of his hand since kissing his cheek felt like it would be a bit too sudden for the blond-haired boy.
"I- uhh good night" She felt him hesitantly kiss the back of her hand back.
"good night Hunter" she felt Lil Rascal move from her head before cuddling up in her sleeping bag blushing deeply as she thought about the fact she had kissed the back of his hand. It wasn't super romantic or the most dramatic but she had still done it and it still left her blushing like she had kissed hi- no she was not going to die of blushing thinking about that. Laying in bed it hit her like a brick, she did have a crush on Hunter. //If you like this story you can find the story up until chapter 8 here My little light - Lunter_Lumity - The Owl House (Cartoon) [Archive of Our Own]
7 notes · View notes
cttagverse · 1 year
Text
Introducing Sky (and Kit)
So I introduced these two OCs a month ago here. Since then I've been itching to write up Sky's intro into the story.
Since this is supposed to be March of the OCs I thought, why not.
This is a future story, all the stuff before this hasn't been written yet, but oh well. Basically I head canon Alan as first having a bit of anxiety with stepping away from his family and IR to have some experiences on his own. I could have sworn that I had posted a story where he deals with the anxiety of deciding to make that leap out of the IR/Tracy nest, but instead I found it almost finished. So I finished it and it's now on AO3 here.
So, after he graduates from graduate school, he goes back to IR for a year or so, then is asked to pilot a mission to the Ort Cloud and Alan can't say no. He'd be piloting a newer version of the T-Drive and would be gone for a couple of years while scientist do some research (and Alan does his own search/possibly recovery and research of his own of his Dad's home, or what's left of it that is).
When he returns he's forced to stay at a recovery facility while they reacclimate to Earth. While there he meets Kit Scott. They go out a few times and realize there are some very strong feelings going on. Stuff happens (can't ruin all the stories in my head, can I?) and Alan makes the decision to stay in the US with Kit instead of going back to IR.
That is where this story takes place. They've been married a few years now, and are foster parents. Alan works at NASA, while Kit works for the state as a social worker. They were content being foster parents, never thinking of adopting or anything like that. That was until Sky.
Also while it does start off with a lot of Kit, an adult Alan in aviators and tight jeans does show up, and a good action sequence happens in the middle!
Sky
Kit sat at the front window and watched as cars passed by their house. They took a drink from the water bottle that sat at their elbow, and then ran a hand through their curly red hair.
The first meeting was always so nerve wracking, this time even more so. They had called Alan right after they had gotten off the phone with the case worker. Not only was it a first meeting, but it was also an emergency placement. And it was an unusual placement for them as well.
Kit was a social worker themselves, so they would be called off on jobs in their area at any time of day. Alan was still working for NASA and the WSO as a pilot and could be gone for weeks at a time depending on where they sent him. Because of these issues they preferred to foster older kids. Ones that could potentially stay home alone for short periods of time if needed. So Kit was a little hesitant to agree to this placing when they first heard the request.
They straightened up as a dark blue car slowed down and pulled into their short drive, pulling up next to Kit’s own red minivan—nicknamed Thunderbird Three because of it’s shape and color, compared to Alan’s small sports car that more closely resembled Thunderbird One. They could make out the silhouette of the driver as they turned off the car and unbuckled their belt. As they turned around in their seat to talk to someone in the back Kit slid out of the window seat and made their way to the front door.
 They were standing at the top of the porch steps as the driver closed the back door and started their way towards the house. Kit took the two steps down and met them halfway down the front walk and off under the elm that stood tall in their front yard so that they could talk out of the heat of the sun.
“Kit, thank you so much for agreeing to this. I know it’s not your normal request, but I’m at my wits end with this one.” The woman looked tired, but then they all did in their profession. Seeing kids at their worst took a lot out of them all. “We took her from her parents almost a month ago. We’ve tried placing them in six foster homes, and she’s had to stay at my place at least that many times.”
“What’s been the problem?” Kit looked down at the young girl that was peeking out from behind the woman’s legs. As soon as their eyes met the girl jerked back and hid.
“Not what you would think, honestly. For the most part once I leave she goes and hides in a closet and refuses to come out. When they try to take her out she screams and cries. She wouldn’t even come out for food, after a couple of days of not eating or drinking they’ve called me back. We have to drag her out screaming, but once she’s in my car she’s quiet again and we go and get some food and she’s—well, not better but at least fed and not crying.”
“Why can’t she stay with you then, seems to be a connection at least.”
“I wish I could, but since she’s from my area I’m not allowed to, and I’m at capacity as it is. The times she has stayed with me has been under emergency rules and she still wants to hide in the closet.”
Kit took a deep breath and ran another hand through their hair. They wished Alan was here. They looked down the street hoping the shadow they had caught sight of out the corner of their eye was him showing up, but it was just a car passing by their road.
“Have you been able to talk to your partner?”
“Yes, he’s on his way home—should be here any time. He’s okay with it, knows it’s an emergency—it’s just not something we’ve delt with before.”
“I know, and I hate having to ask you to do this, but it’s either you or the home and we both know that place is not for someone this age.”
“I know, it’s understaffed and full of kids trying to get attention in the worst ways.” Kit took another look down the road and then back to their friend and colleague. “What’s her name?”
“Brittney—”
Kit looked down and noticed the girl had not reacted at all to her name.
The woman sighed and leaned down tapped the girls shoulder, “Brittney!” It wasn’t said too loud, but she squeaked and darted behind the elm.
“And she’s how old?”
“Five.”                                                                                          
“So young. Has she gone to school any?”
“No. And no sign that the parents tried to teach her anything either.”
“Alright. No choice then.” Kit dropped down to their knees in the warm grass and smiled. “Hi, I’m Kit.” She started to peek out from her hiding spot and Kit held out their hand in encouragement, but at the site of the hand the head disappeared. “Oh. Alright. No worries.”
Kit dropped their hand and then looked up at the rev of an engine. A familiar silver and red car was making it’s way toward them. It spun into the driveway, barely slowing down, and stopped behind the van. Music was blaring for a moment till the car was turned off and then the silence of the suburb returned. Kit rocked back on their heels and watched as Alan seemed to grow up out of the low riding car. His tall stature had reached that of his eldest brother’s and his silhouette was very similar to his middle brother’s. He was like the best of those two men, and every time Kit saw him, they couldn’t believe that of all the people in the world, they had chosen them.
Alan had on a pair of aviators with dark lenses and his hair was still styled as neatly as it had been when he had left that morning. He wore a light buttoned up shirt with it’s sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened. His jeans were name brand—one pair costing more than Kit spent on groceries when buying for a full house—and fit him perfectly.
He strolled over to them and squatted down next to his partner. “What’s so interesting down here?” He smiled brightly causing Kit to blush just a little.
Kit cleared their throat and nodded toward their new charge. “Her.”
Alan followed the direction of the nod—taking note that Kit hadn’t pointed—and moved his sunglasses up on top of his head. He smiled at the young girl peeking out from behind the tree, his eyes bright even in the shade of the tree. “Hey. I like your hair.” He kept his voice low and pointed up to his own hair.
The girl reached up and grabbed at one of the tight dark curls and pulled on it a little before letting it spring back into place.
“How do we take care of hair like that?”
“I’ve got people we can ask.”
“Good, looks like it’s going to need a lot of work. What’s her name.”
“Britt—” Kit’s friend started, but Kit interrupted.
“I’ll tell you later.” Kit looked up at her friend and shook their head.
“Right. Well, I’ll help you get her into the house and then I need to get going. Do you think you’ll be okay?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll see.” Kit stood and Alan followed. They led the way into the house and sat down on the couch. Two of their other foster kids were at the dinner table doing their homework and looked up at their entrance.
“Do we have a new sibling?” One of them asked.
“We’re trying her out. Do you need any help with your work?”
“Nah, I think I’ve got it. Could you check it later though?”
“Absolutely.” Kit turned away from the two and back to Alan. “This one has been through a lot it seems. If we can’t keep her she’ll have to go to the home.”
“You mean that orphanage you told me about?”
“It’s not an orphanage—”
“Sounds like one to me.”
“Alan.”
“Alright. I’m sorry.” He held up his hands in defeat. “Still regardless of what it is—do they even take kids that young?”
“Generally, no, but what other choice is there?” Kit frowned a little as they watched the young girl dart from the entry way, and down the hall, a moment later hearing a click of the hall closet.
“Well, she’s found her place for now.” The woman sighed and pulled out her keys. “I’ll give you a call in the morning to see how it’s going—if you don’t end up calling me first.”
Kit saw her colleague out before sitting down again next to Alan and leaning into his side. “This one is going to be difficult.”
“We’ve delt with difficult cases before.”
“Not like this.”
“Like always, we’ll just play it by ear. We haven’t turned away a kid yet, I’d rather not start now.”
Kit nodded and nuzzled just a bit more into Alan’s side.  
There was only barely a minute of silence before a heard of elephants came storming down the stairs—either that or one over excited ten-year-old.
“Alan’s home! Alan’s home!” The ten-year-old in question jumped down the last three steps and dove into Alan’s lap. “Can we do it? Can we? You said we could if you came home early one day!”
Kit sat up and smiled at the boy who just adored Alan the rocket pilot.
“Hey, Ben! Oh, well, I sure did say that didn’t I?” Alan smiled as he looked down at the boy who was clinging to his torso and looking up at him, stars in his eyes. “Did you keep the rocket safe? It didn’t get damaged, did it?”
“Nope! I kept it on the top shelf and made sure nobody touched it.”
“Alright, go get it, and bring it down carefully—no running, remember what Kit told you?”
“Oh right.” Ben slid back down to his feet and stood in front of Kit. “Sorry for running in the house.”
“Thank you for apologizing.” Kit smiled. “After you two set off your rocket, we can look into having some popsicles before dinner.”
“Whoa, did I hear Kit say popsicles before dinner?” One of the earnest studiers gapped from the table. “They haven’t let us do that since Sam got that A on his test!”
“I’ve never had popsicles before dinner!” The other jumped to their feet and started putting their things away. “Come on, Ben, I’ll help you bring it down.”
“Kelvin, did you finish your work?”
“Yeah, I was just working on my English paper that’s due in a couple of weeks.”
“Alright, just checking.” Kit smiled as the two boys raced upstairs to collect the rocket. “You sure it’s okay to launch it in the back yard?”  
“I’ve done the math and had John double check it for me since we’re on such a small scale. As long as we set it up right it should land in the front yard. At worst in the road.” Alan flashed a smile at them before standing up. “I’ll go get the launch site ready.”
------
The sun was setting as Kit and Alan sat on one of the beds in the larger of the two bedrooms they used for their foster kids. This room had two sets of bunk beds in it, they sat on the lower bed of one set and were facing the other set. The other room only had two twin beds and was the room they offered their older kids for a bit more privacy. Right now, the four kids they were rooming were sitting on the opposite bunkbed, two on the bottom and two on the top.
“How come we’re meeting up there instead of at the table?” Kelvin had scooted back so he was leaning against the wall, his head in the shadow of the bed above him, his floppy curly hair was mostly covering his face.
“Is it because of her?” Ben was on his stomach on the top bunk next to Eli.
“It has to be. She’s the only girl in the house. Everyone else is either a guy or non-binary. Like where is she going to sleep? We’ll have to move around a bit.” Kai was on the bottom bunk, their knees up next to their chest.
“I’m going to lose my private room, aren’t I?” Kelvin sighed as he slouched down father against the wall.
“We’re not sure yet. She’s had a rough time of it the past month, not to mention the whole reason she was taken from her home in the first place.” Kit ended their statement on a bit of a whisper. They usually left it up to the kid to decide if the others would know the details of their situation. However at only five-years-old Kit wasn’t sure if they should tell them or not.
“It’s none of our business.” Eli was on his back, his head hanging over the edge of the bed looking at his foster parents upside down. “But we should probably know some basics so we know what we should or shouldn’t say and do.”
“He’s got a good point.” Alan nodded. “Her given name is Brittany, but I have a feeling we don’t want to call her by that.” Alan looked over at Kit for confirmation.
“Yes, when her social worker told me her name she ignored it at first an then ran behind the tree.”
“That makes sense. It’s one of the reasons I chose to go by Kai instead of my dead name. Just the thought of it—” Kai shuddered at the thought.  “If they were constantly yelling it at her—it would totes be a trigger for her.”
“Yeah, how about touching?” Ben asked rolling over to join Eli on his back.
“Big no for right now. I held out my hand and she shrank back.” Kit shook their head.
“I think for now we’re just going to have to leave her be. She’s hiding in the downstairs closet which seems to be the pattern from what the case worker said.”
“We’ll make sure to have food in reach so she doesn’t have to leave if she doesn’t want to. And I’ve already talked to my supervisor and coworkers so I can try and spend most of my time here. We just can’t leave her alone right now.”
Alan crossed his arms as he thought. “It probably wouldn’t hurt for you guys to just gently knock and acknowledge her. Just a hi, or good morning. Something like that. Let her know that you know she’s there but are respecting the boundaries she’s placing.”
“We can do that.” Kelvin nodded, followed by the others.
“That also means no running or other loud noises in the house right now. She’s scared enough as it is.” Kit waited for all four of them to nod in agreement.
“Alright, we’ve had a successful rocket launch and landing—though I’ll have to get the ladder out and get it out of the tree out front tomorrow when I get home.” Alan flashed a smile as the kids laughed.
“You mean, I’ll get it out. Last time you were on a ladder you about ended up in the hospital. How you climb mountains without falling I’ll never understand.” Kit rolled their eyes and tisked at their partner.
“It’s cause he grew up a rich kid that learned how to climb mountains and not trees.” Eli giggled.
“Eli—” Kit started to warn but Alan waved them off.
“They’re right. I don’t think I’ve ever climbed a tree, but I’ve been on at least one mountain in every range in the world.”
“Rich kid.” Kit let out a razzberry in his direction and everyone laughed.
The kids were sent to their rooms for the night to wind down before bed and Kit and Alan made their way back downstairs. They were quiet as they went about their evening business; Kit went to clean up the kitchen from dinner, prepare lunches for the next day, and prepared a small plate of chicken nuggets and carrots for their new guest and set it just outside the hall door. Alan sat down in the living room with his tablet and looked up what his brothers were up to.
Alan loved his life. He loved his partner and enjoyed his job. But there was a part of him that missed the excitement of IR, and the thrill of helping others in dire emergency. Kit knew this, and becoming foster parents was a way to help with that hole in Alan. He was making a huge difference for the kids that they helped and kept in touch with those that had moved on. They hadn’t been doing it too long—only five years or so—but they’d already been asked to go visit a couple collages and went to one wedding. Still there was nothing that could match the rush of adrenaline when lives were on the line.
The website EOS had set up to keep Alan in the loop of things popped up, a string of constantly updated information ran down the middle of the page. Looked like they were currently on a rescue. He pulled up the chat box and could read a script of what they were saying to each other. If it was a light rescue he would sometimes jump in and chat with them, but this one looked to be a bit of a stressful one so he just sat and read what was going on.
Scott was in the Himalayas where a small village had been cut off due to an avalanche. Luckily it had missed the village and only a single traveler had been caught on the edge of it. Scott was able to get there in time and dig them out and was now busy flying in some supplies for the village to survive on until the local authorities could dig out a path to reconnect them with the rest of the world.
Virgil and Gordon were in northern Ontario just off the coast of Polar Bear Provincial Park trying to keep a plane from going under in the cold icy waters. The victims had called because of engine failure and with Scott already in the Himalayas Thunderbird Two was sent off to the rescue. They arrived just in time to see the plane hit the water and Gordon—in Four—had dropped in straight from Two to get under the plane before it had sunk too far down. The current was swift and he was having trouble keeping Four steady as Virgil attempted to get his magnetic couplings to attach to the plane’s fuselage only to find out it wasn’t made of metal, but some new composite, so they were brainstorming ways of getting the plane out of the water, and the people. However there was no access to the cabin from above, and the current was too turbulent for Virgil to try and stand on top of the plane to create access. Their magnetic boots were not of any use, of course, so they were in a bit of a conundrum.
Alan sat and watched Virgil and Gordon chatter back and forth with occasional suggestions by John and even Scott. Alan chose to stay quiet so his brothers could work and watched the rescue in his mind.
“Gordon, are you able to maneuver the plane into more steady waters?” Virgil was labeled as being in the module, probably on the hunt for a part he could use to help with their situation.
“Sorry, bro. I’m doing my best to keep it where it is. If I try and move I probably won’t be able to hang on to it anymore—ya know, cause not magnetic and all, I’m clinging to the landing struts as it is and they’re starting to loosen up.”
“Damn. Okay, John, I need you to instruct the passengers to get to the back of the plane and look away from the windows.”
“Uh, Virgil, the back of the plane is where all the water is. The very cold water.”
“Yes, Gordon I know. It’s also away from where I’m going to have to cut an access hole to get them out, and since I can’t stand on the top, I’m going to be dangling and will have little control in the high winds as to where I’m cutting. I’d rather have them in cold water for a short period than near a laser torch that could potentially hurt them.”
“That is a good point. Right, Johnny let them know they need to get a bit wetter.”
“Gordon, you realize that your son has started calling me Uncle Johnny now?”
“Oh? Which one?”
“Gordon, you only have one.”
There was a few seconds of silence before a nervous laugh was typed out by the program. “Oh, right. Uh, oh boy do I have news for you guys.”
“Gordon, now really isn’t the time.” Virgil’s location was updated to just ‘outside two’.
“Right, right. Pen wanted to make an announcement anyways. You heard nothing.”
There was silence for a good while after that. Alan could imagine Virgil shooting a grapple into the roof of the plane to give him some stability as he used the laser cutter to cut a hole.
“The plane now has a sunroof. I had to do a bit of engineering on the fly to combine the five rescue harnesses together.”
“Virgil, there is a reason there’s a max of two harnesses to a line.”
“I’m aware. I added lines to it as well. It’s safe. I’m sure Brains would approve.”
“I’m sure he would. Scott, however, wouldn’t.”
“He’s right. I don’t.”  Alan chuckled as the eldest joined back into conversation. “More than two at the same time puts them at risk for injury. You know that.”
“I do. I also know that I don’t have anyone in Two to help them get out of the harnesses and send them back down. With the way this plane is bobbing around, I’m afraid to leave anyone behind.”
That comment stung Alan a little. He would have been the one helping to do that if he had still been around. He had commented that they could always recruit people to join the organization—they’d met plenty of good prospects over the year—but there was something with the eldest three about keeping it a family business.
“He’s got a point Scotty. These landing struts aren’t going to last much longer. I’m even starting to get some ice chunks hitting Four. Going to have to buff out the paint when we get home.”
Alan could imagine the deep breath and sigh that was coming from Scott. “Alright. Make sure they understand that they need to cling to each other and not let go until you say so. Doesn’t matter what way they’re facing.”
“FAB” Virgil knew. Alan knew Virgil knew. He was sure Scott knew that Virgil knew as well. But Alan also knew that restating known information helped everyone in the moment. Heck he’d done it sometimes—stating out loud the steps he was taking no matter how routine they were.
The chat was silent again as Alan imagined Virgil helping each person out of the plane and into their harnesses.
Alan closed his eyes and did his best to imagine himself here. The cold wind that bit even through their high-tech uniforms. The sloshing of the water over the ice floating around them. The scared exclamations and cries of the passengers of the plane and the calm baritone of Virgil’s voice as he reassured them.
A ding announcing the next message and Alan opened his eyes.
“On my way back up to Two with all the passengers.”
“Uh, Virgil. We have a bit of an issue here.” Alan could easily imagine the groan of the plane as the landing struts pulled from the body, the sound echoing in the cold waters around Gordon.
“I don’t have them secure yet.”
“I don’t have any other way of holding onto it.”
“Then we’ll just have to collect it later.”
“Afraid that’s not an option. Whatever this new composite is, the left strut is pulling the fuselage away, instead of stripping the bolt. The fuel tank burst and now we have fuel leaking into the bay.”
“Shit—alright, do you have any nanocrete on board to seal it for a moment?”
“I’ve been trying, but it’s not wanting to stick in this cold water. I don’t think we’ve ever tried it in this extreme of temperature before.”
“Brains is confirming. The water temperature Four is reporting is too cold for the nanocrete to function properly. You’re going to have to use your vacuum to take fuel onto Four.”
“Already on it, but my reserve tank is already full. How much fuel does this type of plane hold?”
“Upwards of thirty-thousand liters.”
“Uh, John. Four doesn’t have that type of capacity in her.”
“Then you’re going to have to stay connected until Virgil can pull you both out of the water.”
“And how is he going to do that when he can’t even latch onto the plane? The suction in my vacuum isn’t going to hold the weight of the plane.”
“Like this.”
Alan frowned, unable to imagine what idea his second eldest brother had in mind. His only clues were the location markers next to his name. He had gone back inside Two—presumably to get the passengers settled—and then he was outside of Two again.
“Virgil, what the hell are you doing?! You’re not that experienced in swimming in these types of currents!”
Swimming? Alan couldn’t help but sit up straight. Did Virgil just jump into the water?
“Not much of a choice, do I? Plus best way to gain experience is doing it.”
Alan made a wager with himself to how long it would take before Gordon ended up in the water and forced Virgil into Four—which honestly was a laugh in itself. Virgil in Four’s cockpit—it was bit of a tight fit for the big guy, his shoulders barely cleared the entry!
“Virgil, watch your left, there’s some ice heading right towards you!”
“I see it!”
“Get your ass in here and I’ll do whatever it is you have in mind.”
“And how would we do that? You said it yourself; you can’t let go of your controls or you’ll lose the plane. Can’t exactly leave Four long enough for me to get in—and you know we both can’t fit in her cockpit.”
Alan could hear Gordon grumble at the unfortunate logic of their brother. Alan was sitting up straight now, the rescue a bit more serious than it had been.
“And what are you going to do? The nanocrete was our main sealant.”
“We’ve got this super adhesive tape Brains made for space, I chatted with him on a private line and he said it might work—at least long enough for us to get the plane out of the water.”
Alan frowned. He knew of the tape in question. It was a rumored replacement for the long-held duct tape that had been around since the beginning of the space program. However, it wasn’t cleared for public—or even NASA—use yet by IR. Brains wasn’t satisfied with all the tests yet, and Alan supposed this was one way to get a test out of the way. Still Alan was just as worried about Virgil as Gordon was. He was a good swimmer, no doubt. But the currents up in that northern bay—
The chat was silent as his brother worked.
This was when Alan wished he had video footage of the rescue, but his father refused that request. While it made sense on the basic level to watch a rescue rather than just read the comms, if something bad happened—well, no one should watch a family member get hurt if they could help it. So, Alan sat and stared at the last word that had been said.
At some point he felt Kit sit down next to him. They reached out and entwined their arms around his. Laid their head on his shoulder and stared at the word as well.
It had been several minutes. Plenty of time for Virgil to tape whatever it was he was taping and to get back to two, but still there had been nothing. Maybe the site was broken? He reached for the screen and refreshed it, but still just nothing. Kit squeezed his arm.
“Virgil!”
Alan just about snapped his tablet in two.
“I’m going EVA!”
“What about the plane?                “
“We’ll get it later!”
“I’ll be there in ten. I can get the rest of the supplies later.”
Alan glanced over at Kit and their eyes met. Kit squeezed Alan’s arm just a bit tighter. “Gordon will get him. You know he will.” Alan nodded and looked back at the tablet.
“I’m just about to him.”
“Careful, Gordon, you’re just about to hit some shallower water and more rocks.”
“I know, I can see them.”
“Dammit, I told him—”
“Gordon, enough. Concentrate.”
“I am!”
There were some grunts and exclamations splattered down the chat as Gordon maneuvered the strong currents.
“Just a tad—There! Got him! Now to get us—”
“John, I’m coming in, what’s their location?”
“They’re to the southwest of Kugong Island. Coordinates are near 56, -80.”
“FAB”
“We’re on some land. Not sure exactly where.”
“Remind me to leave the swimming to you Gordon.”
“I’ll be happy to.”
“I see you. Coming down to pick you up. Virgil, how are you feeling?”
“Like I just went through the washing machine on the island.”
“We’ll have to put you through the gambit when we get home.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy that way too much.”
“Oh, most definitely.”
Alan let out a sigh as he finally relaxed. Kit let go of his arm and gave him a quick kiss on the top of his head before heading back into the kitchen.
The rest of the conversation was between Scott and Gordon as they worked on finding and recovering the plane and Four. It took some time, but no other incidents occurred. Alan took a moment during their final checks before leaving the danger zone to type out a little message.
“Looks like we’ve had a lurker today guys. Alan says we need to stop scaring him or he’s going to go gray faster than Scott is.”
“Hey, I still have most of my brown hair! And the girls like it to be honest.”
Everyone laughed and all Thunderbirds and their pilots announced their departures from the danger zone. Two had to make a stop to drop off the passengers, but then would be heading home.
Alan laid down the tablet, leaving the page open and standing he stretched and made his way outside.
They lived in a suburb quite a way out from the city—that had been a requirement of Alan’s for he didn’t want the city to obscure his view of the sky. He grabbed the blanket they kept just inside the door and made his way to the middle of the backyard. He laid out the blanket and then laid down on his back.
He only faintly noticed as the lights in the kitchen and dining room were turned off. A minute or two later and a couple lights upstairs were turned out too—Kit making sure the kids were in bed. Finally in the dark of night without distraction Alan could see into space above him. He picked out the stars, calling out their names as he waited. It wasn’t a guarantee, but if he was anywhere near their flight path home—and they knew he had been listening—they would sometimes fly over the house as a way of saying hi.
It was taking longer than he thought—but then he didn’t know how long it would take to drop off the passengers and was starting to struggle to keep his eyes open when he felt something lay down beside him. They didn’t have any pets, and it was too small to be Kit. Alan propped himself up on his elbows and found the dark-haired girl on her back next to him looking up into the sky.
“Oh, hey.”
She didn’t seem bothered by his greeting so he just laid back down, his hands behind his head so she’d know he was no threat.
“You like looking at the stars too?” He could feel her move next to him and figured it was her nodding. “I’ve been up there you know. Several times. It’s just as beautiful as it is down here. More beautiful really, without having the sky to alter your view it’s breathtaking—oh! There they are!” Alan reached up and pointed to the two sets of lights that quickly zoomed over them. They were too high, and it was too dark to really make them out, but their lights and speed were enough for Alan to know them.
“Those were my brothers just now. They’re on their way home from rescuing some people. Virgil—my second oldest brother—got hurt a little. He should be okay, but I’ll be checking up on him tomorrow.”
He didn’t expect her to fully understand what he was saying, but it was nice to say it anyways—and nice to know that she didn’t seem too afraid of him.
Thunderbirds One and Two were long gone when Alan rolled over onto his side so he could have a better view of the girl. “You know, we really need to call you something. What would you like to be called?”
She frowned a little as she watched his face in the light of the moon. She didn’t say anything, but reached up and pointed to the sky with her small finger.
“Hm, Space? You want to be called Space?”
She opened up her hand and acted as if she were grabbing at the sky above them.
“Star? Star would be a good name, but—how about Sky?”
She looked back up at him and tilted her head.
“It’s a good name. You can escape from pretty much anything in the sky. You just got to be careful of the landing.”
He smiled down at her which got a small grin in return.  
“Alright, Sky it is. My eldest brother will probably love that name. He’s loved flying ever since he could walk—or so I’m told.”
Sky snuggled in close to Alan who reached behind him, grabbed the corner of the blanket, and pulled it over the two of them. They could lay there for a bit longer; he didn’t want to make her move when she was being way more open than what they had been warned about. However, sleep was pulling on his eyes and even though he knew it was a bad idea, he let his eyes close as sleep overcame him.
8 notes · View notes
werewroammin · 1 year
Text
Solar Eclipse
Chapter One: Making a Mess of Things
hey i hope y’all like this!! im scared to start posting it ngl but i wrote all seven chapters of this in like thirty six hours and it’s surprisingly good for something written in a hyperfocused frenzy lmao
also janus may or may not be a touch out of character at certain points but ive always struggled with writing him so pls forgive
Summary: In a drunken stupor, Janus confesses to Patton that he's in love with both Roman and Logan. When things spiral out of control from there, how will he keep his feelings in check?
Characters: Janus, Patton, Logan (mentioned), Roman (mentioned)
Pairing(s): endgame roloceit, focus on janus’s attraction to logan and roman in this chapter
Warnings: alcohol use and a drunk character, and i think that’s it but tell me if i missed something!
Word count: 1,721
~
Janus sighed into his wine glass as he took another sip. It was getting late, he should go to bed soon. He didn't care too much at the moment, if he was honest for once. He could spend another half hour wallowing.
He didn't know how it happened, but he had fallen quite deeply in love with not one, but two of his fellow Sides.
It started with Logan. He tried to deny it at first, hoping that if he paid no attention to his feelings, they wouldn't flourish. However, that hope was quickly squashed, as he soon found himself gazing so fondly at Logan, who was talking about something he'd learned recently, which let Janus know his feelings wouldn't dissipate any time soon.
Then, much more recently, he couldn't stop smiling when Roman sang along with a Disney song during movie night some time ago. That tipped him off to the fact that he had very sudden feelings for Roman as well.
Feelings were truly unfair.
Thinking about all this, Janus downed the last of his wine and refilled the glass.
"Janus?"
Janus whirled around to see Patton standing at the entrance to the kitchen, wearing a sky blue pajama set. The sudden action left his brain swimming, and he groaned in discomfort.
"Patton? What brings you here?"
"I always do a quick check to make sure everyone's in their rooms around this time. Well, okay, mostly Virgil, but I've had to remind Logan and Roman of the time on occasion too."
Janus smirked. That sounded about right.
"I take it you're gonna drag me to bed?"
"I wouldn't say drag. More like... gently nudge?"
Janus scoffed. "Just let me finish this glass, and I'll be on my way."
"Oh, yeah, sure thing. You want some company? I bet drinking that stuff is way more fun with a friend."
Janus still couldn't believe they were friends. It was surreal to say the least.
"If you'd like."
Patton walked up to the table and sat across from Janus. Janus noticed the way he stared at the bottle and grinned.
"You wanna try it?"
Patton looked at Janus, his eyes widened. "Oh, uh, I don't know. I've never had anything like this before, I don't know if I'll like it."
Janus hummed. "Depending on the wine, it can be... bitter. I think you'd like port wine, though. It's a dessert wine."
Patton grinned. "Ooh, that sounds sweet!"
Janus summoned a bottle of rosé port wine and poured it in an appropriate glass.
"Do you like berries?" he asked.
"Yeah, I love berries!"
"Good. Rosé port has a strong berry flavor." Janus set the bottle down and held out the glass. "Would you like to try it?"
Patton seemed to give it some thought, and Janus was patient with him. This was a big decision, especially for a Side like Patton.
"And you're sure I'll like it?"
"While I can't guarantee anything, this is the type of wine I think suits your tastes. Don't worry if you don't like it, I understand that any sort of alcohol is... an acquired taste."
Patton took a quick breath. "Alright. Sure, why not? The worst that could happen is I don't like it, right?"
Technically the worst that could happen is Patton loves it to the point of developing an addiction, but Janus figured saying that would only stress him out.
"Sure."
Patton took the glass, adjusting his hold on it a couple times. He held it so that the stem went between his fingers and he held it from the bottom. "Is this how you hold it?"
Janus grinned. "I'm not sure there's a wrong way of holding it."
Patton nodded, staring at the drink. Janus took a sip of his own drink as he waited.
Patton surprised him a bit when he suddenly took a very quick drink of the wine, downing all of it in one go. His nose scrunched up as he swallowed it.
"Those berries are powerful."
Janus chuckled. "I told you the flavor was strong. So... do you not like it?"
Patton paused, considering. "No, it's good. It just caught me off guard a bit, that's all."
"Well, I'm glad you like it." Janus drank the last of his own wine. "I suppose we should head back to our rooms."
"Yeah, sounds good. Am I drunk yet?"
Janus snorted. "I'd say probably not. Even you can survive a tiny glass of wine."
Patton nodded. "Alright. Okay, yeah, let's go to bed."
Janus waved a hand to clear the table of the wine and glasses. He got to his feet and nearly stumbled back into his chair.
"You okay?" Patton asked as he stood up, putting a hand on Janus's shoulder.
The room was moving.
"I... may have overestimated myself tonight."
"How much did you drink?"
"Um... I'm not sure. I was thinking really hard about something and just... stopped keeping track."
"Do you need help getting to your room?"
Janus hated asking for help. He felt vulnerable asking for help. Though he hated to admit it, at this moment, he technically was vulnerable.
"Maybe," he finally responded.
Patton let Janus lean on him a bit as they made their way to Janus's room. Patton would praise him every few steps, and he hated how much his ego absolutely devoured it.
As they got closer to his room, he only got more and more intoxicated, as the alcohol coursed through his body. He hated getting this drunk, it was embarrassing.
Randomly, thoughts of Roman and Logan floated back into his head. He wondered what they were doing. Were they asleep or working late? He hoped they were asleep, they needed to take care of themselves.
They passed Logan's room on the way to his own, and he tried to stop.
"What? What is it?" Patton asked.
"D'you think Logan's up?" he asked, words slurring together. "We should hang out with Logan."
"No, no, kiddo, it's a bit late for that," Patton said amusedly. What was so funny?
"What about Roman? He's fun."
"Tell you what, kiddo, if you get to bed and sleep for at least eight hours, we can hang out with Logan and Roman all day long tomorrow."
Janus pumped a fist in the air. "Yes!"
"Shhh!" Patton shushed. He was laughing, though. What was he laughing at?
Finally, they reached Janus's door. Patton opened it and led him inside.
"Y'know somethin'?" Janus asked.
"Yeah, kiddo?" Patton replied as he helped Janus get into bed.
"I think... Logan and Roman... would be the cutest couple."
Patton grinned. "Oh, really?"
Janus nodded. "Mhm. I mean, they butt heads a lot, but they always come to an understanding in the end, y'know? They work good together."
Patton nodded. "Hm. Yeah, I guess you're right."
"Kind of a shame, though," Janus murmured.
"What do you mean?"
"I just really like Logan and Roman."
The weight of what Janus just said didn't hit him in his drunken state.
"Oh," Patton said softly. Then his eyes went wide. "Oh!"
Janus fumbled with his covers, trying to get under them.
"Oh, kiddo, don't you wanna get dressed first?"
Janus looked down at his usual outfit, complete with capelet. He looked back up at Patton with furrowed brows. "I am dressed."
"Dressed for bed."
Janus sighed. "I mean, sure, if you think it's necessarily necessary."
"Okay, I'll get you some clothes, you stay right there."
Janus flashed him a grin and a thumbs up.
Patton went through his dresser drawers in search of clothes. Drunk Janus was pretty sure Sober Janus would be having heart palpitations knowing someone was looking through his stuff, but Drunk Janus was too busy staring at his hands to care.
"Patton, why're my hands yellow?" he mumbled.
"Those are gloves, Janus," Patton informed him.
"Oh, yeah."
"Now, kiddo, about, uh... you liking Logan and Roman, are you sure you wanted to tell me that?"
Janus finally looked over at Patton. "What do you mean?"
Patton closed a drawer and stood back up with some clothes in hand. "I just mean... well, you're very... secretive. And that seems like something... well, honestly, it seems like something you'd take to your grave."
Janus supposed his feelings for them would normally bring him stress and guilt and embarrassment. Right now, however, he felt like confessing to them. Maybe reciting a poem if he had time.
He shrugged. "I dunno. I mean... sometimes I just... feel like exploding 'cause of my feelings. And saying it out loud feels better. And right now I wanna say it out loud. I love them. I have for a while. They make me feel... like I can do anything in the world. I don't think they'd ever return my feelings, but it's fine. I've made peace with it."
"Oh, Janus," Patton murmured. "Listen, why don't you get dressed, get some sleep, and we can talk about this more tomorrow?"
Janus felt a jolt of fear as he looked up at Patton. "You're leaving me, aren't you?"
Patton blinked a few times. "Do you... not want me to?"
Janus shook his head. "You're making the bad feelings stop."
Patton took in a shaky breath. "Oh. Of course I can stay with you, as long as you need me to."
Janus smiled. "Good. Thank you."
"No problem."
Janus managed to get dressed on his own, which he was thankful for even in his drunken state. He plopped down on his bed, trying and failing to tuck himself in.
He then looked over at Patton, who had turned his back while Janus got dressed.
"You gonna sleep?" Janus asked.
Patton turned around and cleared his throat. "Uh... should I summon an inflatable mattress or something?"
"There's plenty of bed in this bed," Janus assured. "Unless you're not comfy with that."
Patton paused for a moment. "I'm comfy with it if you're comfy with it."
Janus made grabby hands at Patton.
Patton slowly and awkwardly made his way over to the bed. He got in, and Janus was quick to cuddle him. He chuckled softly.
"Are you always this clingy when you're drunk?"
"The question is, am I always this drunk when I'm clingy? And the answer... yeah, probably."
Patton chuckled again. "Get some sleep, kiddo."
Janus didn't need to be told twice.
9 notes · View notes
palialaina · 7 months
Text
Honestly the people of Kilima are something else. Some are less friendly than others (Lookin at you Eshe and Hassian) But for the most part, everyone is so... friendly, welcoming, and even willing to listen if I say something.
I feel like that didn't often happen in whatever life I had before.
Like... okay, Kenyatta. She's trying to find her Path, and it's been... entertaining? Interesting for sure. I gave her to stuff for a pickaxe, and while Hodari said no, Najuma tried to help (Hodari, dude, this is why you are not an uncle.)
I was kind of expecting it to backfire in ways of physical exhaustion, not, uh... literal explosions, but I suppose putting Kenyatta and Najuma in the same room together was bound to cause some trouble.
But, I also think something good came out of it! Sure, Kenyatta caused a landslide, but apparently she's also really good at healing and taking care of animals? Her bedside manner probably needs work, but like. I think she'd make a good healer with some real training.
She seemed surprised by that. Kinda hurts, but I get it. Support from a mother like hers must be hard to come by. Anyways, she said she'd talk to Chayne about a sponsership, so I've got my fingers crossed that everything works out well.
Tumblr media
I sold the fish. I am just not a fish person. Also, the palcat brigade was eyeing it like it was gonna be their next meal. Seemed safer.
Naturally, now that she's not making life difficult, it's Uncle B. Honestly, he's not a bad composer, but he's just not prepared to put himself out there as a performer. I'm glad Auni eavesdropped on us, and decided that staying in the valley was better than 'running away' to Bahari Bay (again. This kid, I swear. Gonna be the death of me...), but at the same time, couldn't he have found me an easier recipe? Why bugs?
I have to hunt down dragonflies for a charm, I need to find a flow tree with some other humans, I need to get some rainbow trout for the trout dinner...
Oh, and I need to earn more money so I can build a living room for my house. I mean, I like it, I do, but the entryway is so crowded now, I think moving most of it to a side room will work better.
Reth... worries me. I like him, I do, but why is he all caught up in this magic thing? Also, I really need Tamala to not flirt with me. Eugh. I felt like I needed to scour my skin off after talking to her and delivering Reth's package. (Hassian, what on earth did you see in her? On the one hand, maybe she eases up if I befriend her more, on the other.... ngeh...)
There feels like some bigger reason he's working for Zeki and taking naps in the storeroom. I just don't know what it is yet. I hope Lark isn't getting in over their head when it comes to flirting with him like they said they wanted too...
Jel did make me laugh earlier, at least. I know it's probably not nice to laugh at him, but I think he did good, honestly. It's just a funny situation. He's still working on Kenyatta's gown, using the piranha teeth from the fish I caught him, but Eshe popped in and he dead-ass lied to her face.
I'm impressed he managed it. Majiri kind of suck at lying, I've noticed. Reth is bad at it for sure...
But he lied and said it was for someone else, and then fluttered and fussed about what to do. Honestly, the easiest way to deal with it is give the dress to Kenyatta, and I told him so too. I think he's a lot braver than he gives himself credit for. I mean, making the dress to Kenyatta's specifications instead of Eshe's, lying to, Eshe? Courting me
Maybe not that last one.
I have to remember to bring him some of the macarons I made later. I know Uncle B and Auntie Dal liked them, so maybe he will too? It's still not the 'cookies' I keep thinking off, but it's a nice, sweet treat, and a lot less dangerous to have in my bag instead of bottles of soup for when I get hungry! Maybe I can try adding some blueberry juice to them later. Or apples, once I finally get Uncle B to sell me apples.
Tumblr media
I invited Lark and Jel over for a meal later. No idea if anyone will show, but I made everyone their own plate of macarons! Oh, and maybe if Lark says yes, next time they can bring Reth. I'll even make some soup just for him! Something to give him some pep since he and Jel are part of the Insomniacs Club.
Though speaking of, I should probably go work on my garden. My blueberry bushes are coming in nicely, and I really wanna make a blueberry pie.
2 notes · View notes
fizzingwizard · 8 months
Text
(Complaining)
Today I got to work. The first hour was teaching my extracurricular class. Then I went directly to my homeroom class, taught their lesson, then sat with my wigglers for the next teacher's lesson because otherwise they run around in the back of the room screaming. (IMHO our school expects two year olds to sit for lessons for way too long. It's 45-50 min total. But I've suggested at least breaking up the lessons before and am always told no by the leaders. I do let the wigglers check out and go read a book or do a puzzle when they really can't sit, because I just think it's ridiculous that two year olds should have so little freedom... but Japan... anyway)
After that I had to frantically get ready for our craft and activity time. Usually I do that during my co-teacher's lesson, but this year there are too many wiggly kids, and my third co-teacher tries to help but because we have so many kid she also has too much she needs to do during that time... After that, we get ready for lunch. Got a lot of kids this year who refuse to eat anything but rice. More than usual. So lunch is pretty much us standing to observe and sneaking quick bites of our own lunches when we can between helping kids eat and encouraging them to eat a teeny tiny bite of literally anything besides rice.
Then they play. We have to take them to the bathroom, clean the tables and chairs, clean the floor, pack away the lunches, change the diapers, log information about lunch and daily activities in their individual notebooks, help the kids pack their bags, and refill their water bottles, while watching them play. Then we do a gross motor activity, then we read a storybook, and then the kids go to nap time.
It's four hours of constantly moving, talking, standing, squatting. Never sitting, lol. Now we do our best to convince the kids sleep is a good idea. I stay through part of my "break" finishing those notebooks. Then I go do my cleaning duty. Then I go to the computer and fill out the required report on our day. Then I have to do 20 assessments, go through all the photos we've taken so far to make scrapbooks of 24 photos for all 20 kids, organize all their crafts and worksheets into the scrapbook, review and upload our class time videos for the parents, plan events, go shopping for materials, make the materials for the next craft, write the newsletter for the parents, and create my lesson plan for next month. I have an hour to do this. I am not being paid for this hour. (Also it's often not even a full hour, but 30 min here, 15 min there.) It is so fucking impossible lol. And the assessment and stuff, it's worse because it's redundant as well as ridiculous. We JUST assessed the same sort of stuff in the kids' progress reports less than a month ago, and now we have to do it all over again with very slight variation for every single kid, AND this assessment will be used to evaluate the kids' readiness for next level, which is just silly because the majority of those who haven't reached certain benchmarks yet will have reached them by the end of the year... utterly silly.
So during this hour I do as much of that as I can, which today meant I did the reports, did some lesson planning, and managed to finish ONE assessment. I have sooo much left to do. When when when. Where is the time for it. I'm not paid a salary. I'm hourly. They literally expect me to do it on my unpaid breaks and whatnot. And it's not even stuff that can be accomplished in an hour - especially when everyone else also needs to accomplish the same things, we're all off duty at the same time, and first come first serve at the computers haha.
Now that hours up, so I go to wake the kids, all 1-3 yos, from their nap. One of the kids throws a tantrum, so my co-teacher takes him outside. They're gone for fifteen minutes, which is precious time right now because there is, again, so much to do. Wake all the kids, get them in their shoes, sitting at the table, drinking their water. Clean up their futons. Take their temperatures. Document stuff in their notebooks agaaaain. Hand out allergy snacks. Hand out home snacks. Hand out school snacks. Check everything off on a plethora of checklists. As they finish, wipe their hands and faces, make them drink more water, help them clean up, check their diapers, change their diapers, watch them play, send them home with their parents or to extracurriculars, clean up the crumbs, clean up the tables and chairs, clean the floor, vacuum, clean up the garbage, watch the kids play.
Because the co-teacher is gone for 15 minutes, I'm the only one, the ONLY one, taking care of all the kids who are eating. I have a kid who will stuff his mouth so full of food that he'll start to choke, so I have to diligently give him one bite at a time until he's finished, in between cleaning. There are two other teachers in charge of diapers and the notebooks (who for some reason just didn't do the notebooks today?? I'm not really sure what happened there). It's supposed to be two and two, so there's no one to help me. I have to do all the cleaning, wiping, diaper-checking, and breaking down by myself. By the time my co-teacher comes back, she's off duty. So I have to deal with tantrum kid too, whose current mood is "say no to everything." He screams while I desperately try to put away all the tables so there's room for kids to walk, and sweep the floor so they don't have to walk on squashed grapes and cake. Between doing all the overseeing and cleaning myself, I was on my feet doing physical stuff for 55 minutes. Usually we're cleaned up in 40 minutes. Ah, there's that 15 minutes. (Not my co-teacher's fault though - the kid needed to be taken care of. It's just that we're expected to do SO MUCH in a single hour.) Also it's really freaking hot, and yeah we use AC, but there's a lot of bodies in the room and when I checked the thermostat, some alien person had set it to 25. I was like nope nope 23, 23 it is. Suddenly the room was a lot more bearable (9_9)
So now I can FINALLY sit down with the kids who are playing. It is literally four minutes till clock out time. I find a kid who threw a fit about changing his diaper, who I'd managed, while cleaning up, to cajole into doing it by himself. He had put his diaper on backwards. I tried to fix it, he tried to run away, he fell and started to cry. This is that kid with the hypersensitive parents I've mentioned before. Guess when his mom decides to arrive? Yup, just that moment.
She acts fine, I fix his diaper, he stops crying and goes off happily. When I go to clock out, I see mom changing his entire outfit. The parents have told us that if their kid sweats, we need to change his clothes. We already change kids' clothes if they get wet or are sweaty. Today we didn't go outside because it's too hot. Their kid didn't get particularly sweaty staying inside. His shirt wasn't wet at all. But the mom changed all his clothes. I am bracing myself to hear about it tomorrow.
But I keep thinking. When the hell was I going to think to change this not sweaty kid's clothes?? At what point during the day did I have a moment to do anything except frantically run around doing as much as I possibly can? I have not sat down all day except to work through my break. I've eaten nothing but a little bit of rice myself because lunch time was so busy. I'm exhausted, hungry, and hot. Someone give me a break to change my sweaty clothes, lol!
I want to do everything possible to keep the kids happy and healthy but I absolutely have no idea when I or my coteachers had a moment to think about anything not 100% essential. I'm just fried.
I felt a little... not vindicated, but seen, I guess, the other week after some leaders came for yearly observations, and their feedback was that our class is doing great, but I'm doing too much. They really encouraged my coteachers to help me more. And while I am most DEFINITELY doing waaaay too much, it's also too much to expect more of co-teachers, because the veteran teacher is also doing a lot more than she should be, and the rookie has only been here a month. She's trying but she hasn't developed the skill for behavior management yet, and she doesn't know how to anticipate what I'm doing. Plus I know she is EXHAUSTED everyday. Last Friday she was so anemic that she had to go lie down and I stayed late to cover her shift. I don't blame her one bit. This is too busy and fast-paced a school for a first-timer learning the ropes. I'm glad it wasn't my first school. She is working really hard and doing so well, and my other co-teacher is amazing. It's none of our fault we just have TOO MUCH WORK, not enough time, and not enough staff.
I'm just counting the days until Obon break, ugh.
4 notes · View notes
mwolf0epsilon · 1 year
Note
No 25 with Olly :3
Whumptober Day 25: Silence is Golden
Prompt: Lost Voice & "You better start talking."
Summary: Olly was already quiet by nature. After Umbara however, his silence was less of a choice and more of a sign of amounting grief... There's only so much one person can bottle up before they inevitably explode.
[Friend you have opened the floodgates. I've been dying to write Olly trying and failing to process losing both Lich and PB at the same time for ages now! Sorry Rhythm and Dogma...]
THIS STORY IS ON AO3
---
As soon as both the 212th and 501st landed back on Coruscant post their Umbara campaign, Olly and his batchmates were supposed to hang out. Meet up at 79's like usual to catch up. Instead of doing that however the riot trooper is called in to accompany a prisoner escort.
He expected another Separatist POW that would likely never see the light of day ever again (so many of them were met with "unfortunate accidents" while in Republic custody). Maybe even an Umbaran general who'd refused to back down in the face of defeat. Olly was surprised to see Dogma in binders instead.
Something bad had happened.
He did not know what, but Olly was fairly certain it had to be something of an utmost shocking nature if someone like Dogma (a passionately loyal young clone who would rather die than commit treason of any kind) had ended up in Republic custody to be tried (and most likely executed) for whatever crime he'd enacted.
At the time he'd been annoyed at the unexpected occurrence, but he'd assumed his brothers would understand why he had to put off the meetup for now. He thought the trip to 79's would happen some other night. Only realized later, after he'd sneaked down to visit Dogma at his cell to ask what had happened, that that wouldn't be the case.
Lich and PB were gone. One KIA, the other MIA. Taken by Umbara and it's madness.
Needless to say Olly hadn't taken the news well...
Melancholy had hit him fairly hard. So much so that overtime it had shortened the riot trooper's vocabulary considerably. Olly had never been very chatty, that was more his brothers' thing, so the difference wasn't really noticeable at first.
The last few words he spoke before he'd fallen into complete mutism were to Mae and Red Alert.
Harrowing words about Dogma's fate that he'd only known about because he was always the perfect security detail for private Senate hearings. Words of affirmation towards his superior officer over whether or not he'd heard his directions perfectly. Sad or not, he'd never been sloppy when he did his job.
After that he spoke less and less, until suddenly he'd become this silent wall that just kept going and going and letting everyone else talk around him.
If his opinion was missed, no one really spoke up about it. Tall and muscular as he was, Olly prided himself in being able to hide in plain sight like that. Most of everyone's attention was on helping Dogma adjust to the Guard anyway. The poor kid's rescue and subsequent assimilation had been a dizzying affair after all.
The frontie needed the help more than Olly needed pity over his losses.
Days went by. Then weeks. And then even a couple of months. In all that time Olly hadn't uttered a single word to anyone. Made himself scarce with how much work he'd taken on. With how many extra shifts he'd picked up to keep himself nice and busy.
There was a tightness to his throat that he couldn't really bother to talk around anyway. It didn't bother him as much as the constant aches and pains that crept up whenever he least needed them to, but it was still a bit of a heavy weight that sometimes felt like it extended to his chest cavity. A hollow sort of feeling.
As long as he was still standing, Olly did not care.
There was a lot to be done and the Guard couldn't afford for him to grow lazy just because he was feeling sorry for himself. And honestly it felt good to not have to think about... Stuff... So long as he mindlessly went about things he didn't have to stop and be left alone with his thoughts.
He would not allow himself to crumble.
Olly's routine became nothing if not a metronome. Every single action predicted, precise, regular. Wake up, eat, avoid the rest of the Guard, work, shower, eat, sleep.
No time for socialization of any kind. He'd just ruin the mood anyway... No time for guitar practice. No tunes came to him these days... No time for dancing. He was too tired to move...
No time for anything that brought him any sense of joy. Olly was not allowed to feel joy.
Not without Lich and PB who'd done everything so that he could live past cadethood. His ori'vode deserved happiness more than he did, after being so kind and selfless despite it affecting their scores. To allow himself some minuscule crumb of merriment would be nothing short of insulting. A tremendous betrayal to the memory of his brothers.
Olly didn't deserve joy. Olly didn't deserve to weep. Olly had done nothing remotely as heroic and worthy of praise as his brothers had out in the frontlines.
He was as much of a tool as the shield he carried on his arm. Tools did not have emotions. Especially not ones that should be talked about, before they threatened to boil over and leak out of him like liquid fire.
Inevitably that was what happened. Olly had to reach his limit. And it happened when Dogma had to come to him as unexpectedly as the first time after Umbara. No longer a dead man walking resigned to a fate worse than death.
The kid had become the Guard's archivist. He was well aware of where everyone was at all times. All the paperwork passed through his computer terminal. So when he showed up with his datapad and confronted him about Olly's recent workload?
Well... Olly never did like getting told to take it easy...
He'd snapped. The riot trooper had stared hard at the shorter kih'vod and he'd just been hit by a wave of something absolutely horrid that overtook his mind. Something that had coiled itself around his heart and gnawed away at it for a long time now...
The lump in his throat vanished and he'd poured every single drop of poison into the words that he'd mercilessly tossed at Dogma. Told him every thing the 501st had muttered about him that night when he'd been in a cell, miserably awaiting his sentence. Told him how his batchmate, his twin, had seemingly agreed with all of those vile cruel things.
Let them all say he'd been Krell's bitch in more ways that one.
The destroyed look on his little brother's face had made Olly immediately regret opening his damn mouth. But he couldn't unsay what he'd said. Instead he'd gone quiet again as he watched the archivist run away from him, clearly upset with what he'd been so callously told.
Hours later Rhythm, absolutely seething no doubt, cornered him in the bathroom. Their argument was almost just as ugly as all the things he'd said to Dogma.
"You're acting like a kriffing asshole! I barely even recognize you anymore!" The communications officer shrieked at him. "What the hell were you even thinking saying all that crap to Dogma?! He's never done anything to you!"
"Get the hell out of my face!" He hated yelling. Olly had always hated yelling but he felt trapped and far too angry not to. His head was pounding and the hollow feeling in his chest now felt like a steady burn. "Leave me alone!"
"No! Something's wrong with you and I'm not leaving until you get back into your right mind!" Rhythm blocked the door, arms and legs planted firmly on the door-frame so he couldn't pass through.
"Rhythm get out of my way!" His legs were shaking. He needed out, he needed air, he needed to be anywhere but here right now. "I won't warn you twice!"
"Olly just talk to me! Ever since Lichtenberg and Pretty Boy went, you haven't--"
Rhythm crumpled like a wet paper towel the moment he got hit in the face. It wasn't hard to take him down, especially considering Olly far outweighed him when he was only in his officer fatigues.
Olly hadn't hit a brother since he'd lost his temper at Red Alert. That had only happened because he'd been besides himself with worry, not out of anger. Never out of anger.
Seeing his closest friend and vod on the floor, slowly sitting up with a bloodied nose and a quickly swelling eye, made his blood turn to ice in his veins.
Afraid and ashamed, he began to hyperventilate.
"Olly... Olly no, no breathe!" Rhythm, despite having every reason to be pissed off about getting wrongfully punched, instead scrambled onto his feet and moved over to help pick him up off the floor.
When had he ended up on the floor? He could have sworn he'd been standing. It was too hard to think. He felt too warm.
"Olly, I need you to breath. In and out, slowly..." Rhythm instructed carefully. His grip on the riot trooper's arm tightening when he responded by covering his ears and closed his eyes, curling in on himself as tightly as he could. "Please... Please vod. In and out... In and out... Please..."
"I'm sorry..."
"None of that... Breathing first. Talking later." Rhythm insisted. His voice sounded a little strained.
"I hit you..."
"Please Olly..."
He complied. If only so he didn't have to hear Rhythm sound so sad for him. After what he'd just done he didn't deserve that from the communications officer.
He didn't deserve any kindness from the rest of the Guard after he'd both verbally assaulted Dogma and then physically attacked Rhythm.
"You've been bottling it up, haven't you?" Gentle fingers brushed away the tears (he'd started crying? Why wasn't he aware of anything happening to him right now?) that were dripping down his face. The shiner his friend (did he deserve to still call Rhythm his friend?) would likely sport for the next could of weeks was probably going to look horrendous. "Ever since you got the news... Did you even let yourself stop and mourn?"
"PB isn't dead..." He'd deserted. Because Lich was dead. Pretty Boy had packed up and gone off during all of the confusion. Left him behind to deal with... With all of it.
And that had hurt more than Lich dying. Which was such a stupid feeling. One ori'vod was dead, the other was alive. Why did it hurt more that PB had left?
"Doesn't matter. Him not being here still hurts." Rhythm pointed out. He still looks sad. Olly hates seeing that expression on the cheery little di'kut's face "Did you stop to process any of this? Or did you just... Did you just keep going until you couldn't anymore?"
"What else should I have done? Nothing I can do... I can't save Lich and I can't bring PB back..." He closed his eyes again. Tired. Hateful towards his inability to do anything in the position he was. What good was all his strength if he couldn't protect his batch?
"You could have talked with someone..." Rhythm sighed.
"Like you talk about Chord?" Olly snapped back, glaring slightly at his kih'vod. He looked away once more when he felt the other wince.
"Ok, ouch, but touché..." The longer haired clone conceded. "Look... I'm... I know I have a lot of nerve saying this considering I've had trouble with my grief as well... But... And what I am trying to say is... I just..."
Rhythm chuckled bitterly.
"Kriff we're both a mess aren't we?" he shook his head, seeming to be slightly amused with all this. "Olly... You're always there for me. For all of us even. You are always there trying to make sure everyone is ok."
"It's my job."
"You know your job is riot control and security detail." Rhythm shushed him. "Looking out for your vode isn't your job... You just do it because you care. You've got a great big heart in that broad chest of yours, and we all love you for it..."
"Some great big heart I have..." Olly huffed. "I basically told Dogma his twin called him a whore..."
"And I'm still mad at you for it. But I know you didn't mean to." Rhythm flicked him on the nose before carrying on. "The pressure built up and you burst like a can of those weird nasty sodas you like so much."
His sodas were NOT nasty. Just a little spicy. Everything was better with a bit of a kick and a burn to it.
"The point is...We know you haven't been doing great, and when Dogma told us what you said, we were honestly shocked that it was bad enough that'd you'd lash out like that..." Rhythm continued. "We thought maybe you needed space when you stopped talking... But I guess we just helped make you feel worse by not pushing you to talk about what you were feeling... You lost two batchmates Olly. We should have done more for you."
"I..."
"We should have." Rhythm stamped his foot defiantly. "You can deny it all you want, say we don't have to do diddly squat for you, but the Guard looks out for its own. We always have..."
"I don't deserve it."
"You do. You deserve to be looked after just as much as you try to look after everyone else..." Rhythm knelt down and hugged him. The steadily forming bruise over his eye was in fact quite ugly. The trickle of blood coming from his nose was slowly stopping at least.
".... You should probably go to the medbay. Your nose looks broken..." He hid his face in the crook of Rhythm's neck and clung to him miserably. "I think the medics are going to be angry..."
"More at me than at you... I kinda did corner you in a bathroom." Rhythm shrugged nonchalantly. "It's probably not as bad as it looks."
"It looks awful."
"What? My pretty face? Awful?" His kih'vod grinned. "Never!"
"Little gods, just shut up already..."
"Only if you promise to talk to me about it." Rhythm stuck his tongue out at Olly. "And you better start talking."
"Fine..." He wouldn't right now. But maybe later, once the medics (and likely Fox) told him off for his poor behavior, he might consider it. Also after he apologized to Dogma. He owed it to the kid.
Olly definitely owed Rhythm a cuddle as well.
10 notes · View notes