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strange-lace · 3 years

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Macaque

I was in the mood to make more content for Inverted AU, so here’s a short-ish fic of how episode 9 would go in this AU with Macaque, Wukong, and MK! Enjoy the shadowpeach!

Another demon defeated but still no sign of Sun Wukong. Macaque let out a sigh before rolling his shoulders to bring relief to tense muscles. Oh well, he'll just have to keep looking, not like he hasn't been at it for years now. At least this city he wandered to was quite nice with pleasant people, nothing too out there aside from demon attacks.

"Hey! Hey you! Shadow monkey man!" Macaque wouldn't deny that the sudden voice made him jump, considering he was on top of a pretty tall building. Apparently not tall enough to stop the young man from climbing up the side, somewhat out of breath yet that didn't deter from the determined look on his face. He simply brushed his messy hair out of his eyes and adjusted his teal backpack, which looked surprisingly heavy. Macaque couldn’t help but be somewhat curious as to what was in that thing.

Wait was that the Monkey King's staff in his hands?

Indeed it was, he'd recognize that weapon anywhere.

“Ah, you must be the Monkie Kid I’ve been hearing so much about, am I right?” That got him a look of suspicion before the young man also seemed to remember the staff in his hands, causing him to let out an amused huff at his own paranoia.

“Yeah, the staff kind of gives it away, don’t it? Name’s MK though. Now whomst is you? Most of the time, demons who ask me who I am are five seconds away from trying to kill me.” Macaque couldn’t help but chuckle at that, already finding that he was starting to like this little guy and his attitude. Perhaps if a person like MK was chosen to wield Wukong’s staff, then perhaps that meant his love had finally started turning things around for the better. Maybe it meant he finally stopped being someone he wasn’t all for the sake of keeping a memory alive.

“The name’s Macaque, though, the Six-Eared Macaque is actually my full name. But what brings you up here exactly bud? I doubt you’d climb up this high just for anybody.” MK’s face showed that he wanted to argue that point out of principle before remembering his purpose for coming up here.

“Simple, teach me.”

Wait what?

“What what?” MK scoffed at the question.

“I want you to teach me to fight, like how you fought that demon back there. I don’t intend on leaving you alone until you do and that is a threat!” Macaque didn’t doubt that he meant it that way and could very easily follow through on that. Sensing he wasn’t going to get out of this, he let out a sigh before giving MK a smile.

“You sure your mentor won’t have a problem with me teaching you?”

“Bold of you to assume Wukong’s disapproval will stop me.”

“Well alright then, I think we’re gonna get along just fine, bud.”

---

“I see what you’re trying to do, you’re afraid of holding back and giving your enemy the opportunity to win. But the first strike isn’t the most important one. Every strike counts. Other people may tell you that patience and focus don’t matter but a fool allows himself to rush without restraint. While you have power inside you, you have to use it carefully. Take the power to defend others, not just destroy those who stand in your way. You’re not a weapon kid, you wield the weapon above all else.”

---

It started with a fairly innocent question from MK after one of their training sessions, him slowly going through a water bottle given to him by Macaque while the monkey made them something to eat. He needed a distraction to stop himself from taking over the cooking, years of feeding others making him feel guilt the moment someone else took over.

“So Mac, how exactly do you know the Monkey King?” To his credit, Macaque only fumbled the slightest bit at that sudden question and was able to save the plate before it crashed to the floor.

“Oh um well… funny thing about that is, well… we used to be together actually. Like y’know… together-together,” he explained while he plated their food, wincing internally at how awkward he sounded. With his back towards MK, Macaque didn’t notice him go tense and grip the couch arm so tightly that the wood underneath cracked at the pressure.

“Used to be together, huh? What happened?” Macaque couldn’t help but shiver at the chill which traveled down his spine. MK’s voice was perfectly even and calm yet he was filled with an overwhelming fear that warned him to not turn around and remain perfectly still until the danger passed.

His ears twitched at the sound of sparks behind him, magic power permeating through the air.

“I… I messed up honestly. We had an argument about something, I don’t even remember what it was so long ago. But I had to leave to just get some space and air before I said something I’d regret, something I couldn’t take back. It was only meant to be a couple hours but some stuff out of my control happened and by the time I got back… Wukong was gone. I had been looking for him for centuries after that and then… well then you found me.”

“What, you hoped getting on my good side would mean that you’d win the Monkey King back?” His tone promised nothing good if Macaque kept digging himself a deeper hole.

“No! No, nothing like that at all. I don’t expect Pe-...Wukong to take me back or anything like that. I just… wanted the chance to apologize to him is all. If he wants anything to do with me afterwards, then I want that to be his choice. Nothing more, I swear.”

MK remained silent behind him before the sudden tension in the air dissipated as quickly as it appeared. Macaque let out a sigh of relief, slowly turning around to see MK still sitting on his couch, placing the staff back in his ear nonchalantly.

“Fair enough, sounds like you both were just idiots who don’t know how to communicate. If you actually intended on using me to get to the Monkey King, you’d have actually mentioned him during our training and yet you haven’t. And you can’t lie to save your life anyway. Just don’t be an idiot again alright? Monkey King… Wukong, he’s a mess and I don’t think he could handle thinking he’s been abandoned again.”

Macaque could feel his heart break at the idea that his Peaches, his love, thought that he had left permanently. He wanted nothing more than to run to him now and make things right. But that was Wukong’s decision to make, nobody else’s.

The two ate their food in silence after that.

---

Sun Wukong may have supposedly “lost his edge” but he was by no means dense or oblivious.

And while he was certainly happy about his successor’s vast improvement over the past couple weeks, a part of him sensed something was off. Like his successor was hiding something from him. And those moves he watched MK use to absolutely demolish the old mural, the Monkey King swore he had seen them before.

But it couldn’t possibly be. He hadn’t seen him in centuries. Not since he… left, like everyone else.

“I’m impressed, my boy! Tell me, how did you do that? Have you been seeing another mentor perhaps?” Wukong asked, his typically serene smile straining the slightest bit at the idea of his son student learning from someone who wasn’t him. The sensible part of his brain was gently poking at him, reminding him that it seemed silly to get upset about such a thing as, if anything, MK had appeared significantly calmer during their training compared to when they started. This could be a good thing, it told him.

Yet it was silenced by the majority of his brain which ran on fatherly protectiveness and had immediately been plagued by images of the worst case scenario. A demon had approached MK, promising him to make him stronger while also poisoning his student as a bid to turn him against the Monkey King before stealing his powers or, Heavens forbid, harming him.

No, Wukong refused to even allow a chance of that happening, logic and reasoning be damned.

“Hey, you’re the one always going on about ‘patience and focus’, I’m just finally putting what you said into practice,” MK answered, the picture of being casual which only set off further alarm bells within Wukong’s head. But before he could question him further, MK’s phone dinged to tell him of a new text message which he quickly read over, his eyes widening slightly at the message.

“Welp, looks like I gotta cut things short for now Wukong, something came up and I gotta head out. See ya later! Don’t forget to eat something tonight and sleep, I will know if you don’t.” And with that, MK was off through the hole he had created in the wall where the mural was before the Monkey King could get a word in edgewise.

Wukong waited long enough to allow MK to get a reasonable distance away before transforming into a bird, flying after his successor.

Something fishy was going on and the Monkey King was determined to find out what it was.

---

“Why exactly are we climbing up to this giant mountain again Mac?” MK wheezed, hating to admit it but this hike had genuinely winded him despite all his training. He had immediately gone to Macaque’s place the moment he got his text only to be told to follow the six-eared demon, leading them to where they were now.

“Well, consider this your ‘final exam’ bud! I want you to use everything I’ve taught you to fight against me, no holding back. Think you can do that?” MK couldn’t help the twitch at the corners of his mouth at the sight of Macaque’s genuine excitement as he explained, all six ears twitching while his tail was wagging like a dog. A demon who was centuries old and had fought countless powerful demons had no right looking that endearing, but here MK was looking with his own two eyes.

MK gave a chuckle before straightening himself out, wordlessly pulling the staff out his ear.

“You sure you’re comfortable getting your ass kicked by me, Mac?” With a smirk, Macaque summoned his own weapon in a flash of purple with the beginning of two shadow clones pooling at his feet. They shyly peeked from the ground from behind their master.

“Oho, a couple training sessions with me for a month and you think you have what it takes to defeat me, bud? Well then, bring it Monkie Kid!” MK didn’t hesitate to charge forward with Macaque mirroring him, weapons at the ready and adrenaline already running through their veins.

“Enough!”

A sudden force landed in between them with enough force to send them both flying backwards.

MK and Macaque recovered in time to see who decided to interrupt their duel.

Both of their hearts nearly stopped at the sight of the enraged Monkey King but for vastly different reasons.

“You have 5 seconds to explain yourself for trying to harm my-” Wukong’s rage quickly deflated as the dust cleared enough for him to truly see who it was he had thought was attacking MK. “Mango Flower?”

“Um… hello again, Peach Blossom. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Macaque joked, voice weak as he restrained himself from acting out of bounds even if he wanted nothing more than to gather the other into his arms. It had been so long, far too long.

He nearly broke at the sight of tears beginning to form in Wukong’s eyes.

His resolve finally shattered as the Monkey King ran towards him, arms outstretched, and before Macaque knew it his legs were moving on their own. The wind was knocked out of him at how tight Wukong squeezed him yet he returned the embrace back with gusto, ignoring the groaning of his ribs. He simply buried his face into the other’s fur, the smell of peaches still there even after all these years. Faintly, Macaque realized he was also crying once he felt a wetness on his cheeks.

Macaque let out a squeak in surprise as Wukong picked him up in the hug and spun him around, the sound of his laughter echoing throughout the mountain. The sight of such unabashed joy on his face was enough to make the six-eared demon to start laughing too, joy contagious in the best of ways.

MK would deny it unless under the threat of death but he couldn’t help but smile as he watched the two monkeys get lost in their own little world. It made the guilt which nagged at his chest at having to manipulate the two to make this meeting happen ease up, seeing how happy the two were.

“It’s been so long…” Wukong whispered as he placed Macaque back on his feet, gently cradling his face as if afraid that if he stopped touching the other, that he’d disappear again. “But, why are you here? I had thought that you hated me, isn’t that why you…” Macaque went stiff in shock before taking the Monkey King’s hands into his own.

“What? No! If anything, I thought you hated me for leaving instead of talking things out and that’s why you were gone when I came back. I always intended on coming back to you Peaches, I swear on it.” Wukong’s eyes went wide at that, extremely close to crying again a second time that day. “I had been looking for you for centuries now to apologize.”

And now the warm feeling was gone, leaving MK to bite down on his staff to stop himself from screaming at how much those two had failed at the simple of communication.

“We’ve both been absolutely foolish, haven’t we?” Wukong couldn’t help but laugh at it all, which only worsened as he noticed all six of Macaque’s ears turn red in embarrassment.

“Yeah, I guess we have been-” His words were cut off as the Monkey King grabbed his scarf, pulling him into a sudden kiss that made Macaque jolt in surprise before he practically melted into the other’s arms. A purr rumbled in his chest and neither noticed their tails wind around each other.

The sound of MK clearing his throat, loudly, was enough to get them to break apart in embarrassment.

“If you two are done being romantic idiots, I have to beat the shit out of Macaque to prove that I’m better than him. I mean ace my ‘final exam’.” The grin on his face showed that he was lying through his teeth.

“Don’t think I forgot about all your trash talking, young man. How about it Peach Blossom? You willing to go all out with me and the kid?”

Wukong’s face was the epitome of ‘Every part of my body wants to say yes but I shouldn’t.’ He was already terrible at saying no to MK and now with Macaque’s endearingly earnest face, he knew he was done for, at least with these two working together now.

“...Oh alright.”

The two mutual cheers at his agreement made Wukong feel slightly less guilty in letting his lessons go for a brief moment. But not completely.

But that was okay, Wukong was used to living with constant guilt.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #inverted au #shadowpeach #mk #macaque #sun wukong #my writing #fanfiction

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bump1nthen1ght · 3 years

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Deep Blue Sea (Shark Merman x Reader) Chapter 1

Pairing: Gender Neutral! Reader/Shark Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Warning: None

Word Count: 2682 words

Summary: You have a chat with your soulmate

Prologue

“So, you want some?”

He takes your stunned silence as no, checking that the crab is fully dead before pulling off a leg and biting the meat inside. His teeth catch the light of the setting sun, glinting white in between chunks of crab.

“So were-”

“Soulmates? Yeah, looks like it.” He, your soulmate, cracks off another leg and begins to chew. You find yourself transfixed watching him, mind reeling with questions. He uses the sharp claws on the tips of his fingers to dig out more meat. You’re not even sure where to begin.

“What do we do know?”

He shrugs, sucking out the last of the crab leg and tossing it aside.

“Dunno, guess this mystery is solved though.” He taps his wrist and you get a closer look at his soulmate mark.

It loosely resembles a human compass, yet alien in it’s design.There’s eight large symbols, none of which you recognize, and the arrow is slightly misshapen before straightening to a point.

“I always assumed my soulmate was in the Atlantic or something, maybe even a selkie. When that thought always drove my ma up the reef.” He sighs, pressing his chin against his palm as he lays against a rock. “Wonder how she’ll take this. Maybe she’ll turn a whole new shade of blue.”

His chuckle is low, rough against your ears, but not entirely unpleasant.

You can see more of his backside as he scoots closer into the tidepool. The first thing you notice is just how big he is, his tail stretching from his hips to the open ocean. The second thing you notice are the defined muscles which stretch and flex along his back.

Okay, what the fuck.

There’s a pressure building in your temples and you think you're beginning to overload. Your fucking soulmates eyes wander, looking nonchalant as can be beforeperking up when he sees another crab. His body slithering away from you to snatch it up snaps you out of shutdown mode.

“Uh, I guess….what’s your name?” He doesn’t take his eyes off his soon to be snack, only humming to acknowledge he even heard you. “I think that’s a good place to start, don’t you?” That at least gets you a chuckle, followed by a tiny crack!

“Cruz, you can call me Cruz.” You make eye contact as he takes a long, languid bite of crab. Your furrow your eyebrows, face unimpressed. He lights up with a mischievous grin.

“Is that your real name?”

“Nope,” Cruz says, popping the p and breaking open a claw, “But I don’t think you could pronounce my name so…..”

The tension in your jaw tights as he turns away from you once more,humming to himself and letting out a soft “Oh!” as the other leg reveals quite a bit of meat. You rub your brow and sigh.

“My names _____”

“Neat.”

In high school, your mom got the yearbook epithet “biggest social butterfly.” Your dad, however, was barely presentable on picture day and a social circle consisting of the three fellow chess-club members. You were a lot like your dad in many ways.

The conversation, to say the least, seemed to float on the water like a dead fish, and you had no idea how to resuscitate it. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t natural, it wasn’t that missing piece yoru guidance counselor said it would and dammit, it’s kind of pissing you off. You’re pissed off that it’s pissing you off, because when has making first impressions ever been easy for you? Did you think this was going to be different, because what, a stupid mark on your wrist? That has no basis in logic, not even a little bit.

You refuse to dignify any emotions similar to disappointment which begin to well inside you, because it’s ridiculous. You worked hard to get to California, you’ve worked hard your whole damn life, what's stopping you from working now?

“Welp, seems I scared away all the other crabs.” Cruz huffs and places his hands on his...hips? “Been nice chatting _____, but I got dinner to catch.” Cruz looks back at you as he slinks into the water, sending a salute and a wink.

The words bubble up in your chest before you can catch them as he begins to swim away.

“Wait, but, um, I-” Your commands fall clumsily out of your mouth and barely leaves a ripple on the water. Cruz doesn’t turn around.

You feel the heat sizzling up your neck and face as you look at his back. Flashes of him, the arrow, your mom, that stupid guidance counselor paint the inside of your eyelids.

No.

“Will you wait a second!”

The scream barely echoes in the small tidepool, but it’s enough to catch Cruz’s attention. He whips back to you, eyes slightly wide. You realize just how hard you’re breathing.

“I-, just, can you meet me here? Tomorrow?” Cruz's expression stays still, only the slightest bit of confusion crossing his eyes as he raises his brow. “I want to get to know you better.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

….

“What time….. do you want to meet up?” Cruz looks far less mischievous and much more sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck with a clawed hand and looking up at you from under his eyelids.

“How about 5PM?”

Cruz narrows his eyes.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Ah, right, merman.

“About three hours before sunset. I mean, do you know how long an hour-”

“Yes, I know how long an hour is. I’m not a pup.” Cruz rolls his eyes

Well, the sass returns.

The two of you stay in that position for a little too long. You begin to rub your arms as the cold of the sea breeze and your social anxiety slowly come back to you.

“See you tomorrow, I guess.” With a hesitant nod, his black-blue eyes looking pensive, he submerges. Your breath comes back to you in a wave as your soulmate swims into the open ocean.

The walk back to civilization is a blur, the pounding voice in your head drawing out all other noise yet barely making sense itself.

You’re not sure what you expected of the first meeting with your soulmate, but it certainly wasn’t that.

---------

The next day, Cruz is waiting for you at the tidepool by 4:55 PM, shucking an oyster with one of his claws. He looks up as your feet splash into the tidepool. You wave.

“Hey.”

It’s an understatement to say the silence is uncomfortable. You take a beach towel out of your bag and begin to lay it on a large rock. The task helps keep your mind distracted, but you feel Cruz’s eyes burn into your back.

“So, I guess, what are you exactly?” You say, sitting yourself down.

“Merman’s best word I’ve heard you humans use, so that.” Cruz has shifted his focus back on his oyster, which he then downs with one swallow.

“I see, I see. Are all mer-folk as big as you?” That catches Cruz’s attention. A self-satisfied smirk grows on his face as he puffs out his chest.

“Not at all. I’m a Great White and we’re one of the…” Cruz extends his arms art in front of him, flexing his fingers and his biceps in a decidedly braggadocious manner, “bigger species out there.” He finishes his statement with a playful wink. A tiny smile crawls on your face.

Interesting. Male Great Whites are typically around 12 feet, but Cruz is only about 9 feet. I wonder why that is?

“I can see that.” Cruz shifts, ego now lifted, and lays his weight on his right elbow, facing you. “You mentioned a mother, do you have a clan?” Cruz nods.

“Yup. It’s my ma, my dad, my two older sisters, and me. Plus two other families. My ma’s parents were from this reef.”

It’s difficult for you to fight the instinct to whip out your notebook and jot all this down.Your inner scientist screams to pry into the complex social hierarchy and behaviour patterns of this new species. But the more sane part of you knows that would probably be pushing some boundaries.

“Wow, so you’re a true Californian, huh?” Cruz squints his eyes at you. “Uh, that’s where we are. The territory Santa Cruz lies in.”

He gives a low hum, reaching for another oyster nearby. This movement is far more natural than his earlier show, but you still get a full glimpse of his cut shoulder muscle and tight abdominals. It stirs something in you.

Would he have the swimmer’s V? Okay, stop, focus.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” He pries open the oyster, staring at the soft meta inside. “A member of the clan, born and bred.” Cruz brushed the pad of his finger on the shell, his voice holding a quiet bitterness, tinted somber.

Should you comfort him? He’s within touching distance, but the thought of grabbing his hand feels too intimate, soulmate-ship be damned.

Before you can make a move, Cruz throws his head back and gulps down the oyster. He shakes his head and lets out a small “Ah~”, then pushes his short hair back against his skull. Whatever emotion that was there before, it’s gone.

“Where are you from?”

“East Coast, bordering the Atlantic. So you weren’t too far off.”

“Well, I’m not just a pretty face.” Cruz winks at you, but his eye catches a scuttling crab nearby. He gets low in the water, moving slowly to catch it by surprise. You don’t hum the Jaws theme, despite how much you want to.

“No siblings, just me and my parents.” Cruz doesn’t look away, even as he kills the crab.

“Lucky. How big's your clan?” The familiar crack of the shell follows.

“We don’t really,” crack “...have those. Humans can-” crack “We typically live near each other-” crack “but don’t get that-” crack “....close.”

Cruz hums contently, but you can clearly see it’s from the crab and not your one sided conversation. He sucks juice off his fingers. Seems you’ve lost him once again.

I didn’t expect this to be so difficult.

“Have you ever had cooked crab?” Cruz perks immediately, slowly turning back towards you.

Got ‘im.

----------

You return with two warm lobster rolls, a bag of crab legs, and some shrimp scampi. Cruz’s black-blue eyes just peak out of the water, suspicious.

“So these two are lobster, actually, but this,” You shake the crab-bag, “is all crab. I thought I ‘d get you a couple things to sample.”

Cruz’s nose (Is it a nose? There’s a ridge but you’re not sure if the slits count as nostrils. Questions for later.) just breaches the water as you set the crab-bag down and settle on your rock. You grab a couple of legs for yourself before nudging it closer to him. “Have at it, it’s pretty self-explanatory.” You say midst a large bit of your lobster roll. The whole meal was not cheap, so you decided to indulge in this treat as much as you can. You’ve had a stressful couple of days.

Cruz slowly approaches the plastic, snatching it up quickly before looking inside it. His eyes widen and there's a small smile on his lips as he pulls a long leg out. His smile only grows bigger.

“Oh, also!” You clap, pointing towards the bag and jolting Cruz out of his food-induced joy. “There’s sauce, garlic butter, shit like that in those little plastic containers at the bottom. You dip the crab meat in them.” You take another large bit of lobster roll and hear Cruz break into a crab leg. Cruz gets his mouth ready to take a big bite before pausing. His eyes flit between the lef and the garlic butter, before he slowly pulls the lid off and dips the meat in. Cruz then takes the tiniest bite possible.

His eyes, black as they are, light up. He quickly takes another, larger bite. It’s quite adorable, like a baby trying ice cream for the first time. Cruz devours the leg quickly before snapping into another sauce.

“You like it?” Cruz nods, cheeks stuffed with crab meat as you giggle.

“What kind of craf is fiss?”

“Dungeness. That’s commonly eaten by humans. They’ve got some of the highest meat value and they're all over the West Coast.” Cruz nods, though you’re not sure he understands parts of your sentence. “They’re also pretty sustainable to fish, although ocean acidity is kinda fucking with their babies. It’s also been fucking with Red King Crabs, which sucks because their only found in like, four places and are so beautiful and also sustainable and-” Cruz has stopped eating and is staring at you. After a big, long breath in you realize how fast you were talking. You feel the what of your blush on the base of your neck. “Sorry, I’ll let you eat. I just...really like crustaceans. A Lot of aquatic animals, but crabs especially are… I’m doing it again. Sorry.” You take a large bite so you won’t have to talk for a couple of seconds, avoiding eye contact with Cruz. You’re sure your chest and arms are bright red; It’s an embarrassing symptom of when you get too excited.

Cruz just keeps staring at you. Frankly it’s the longest he's looked at you and not a nearby snack. You chew the slowest you possibly can, the brioche bun becoming mush in your mouth, to fill the silence.

You don’t see it, but a small smile widens on his face. He picks at his empty crab shell.

“I think those facts are crab-tastic.”

You immediately choke on a bit of lobster roll, pounding your chest as you sputter between mouthfuls. When your eyes stop watering, you see Cruz has moved closer to you, hand outstretched and a couple inches from resting on your calf. He jerks it back when you look down at him.

“Wow, thanks, but puns aren’t really part of my vocrabulary.” You obnoxiously wink, scrunching up the left side of your face. Cruz laughs. Not a chuckle, but a full, belly laugh.

“Well I find them quite crab-tivating.” A larger laugh bursts from your chest as he mimics your wink and shoots you another big smile.

The sharp teeth are beginning to grow on you, adding to Cruz’s boyish charm. You feel the hot blush in your chest crawl up your neck once more.

Oh fuck.

Cruz reaches for another crab leg but hits the bottom of the bag, a playful pout now on his chin.

“Here, try this next.” You hand him the second lobster roll. “Probably don’t want to get this one wet, it’ll be soggy.” With no hesitation Cruz digs in, perking up once more and going to town. His teeth serate through the bread like butter. Within 4 bites, the entire roll is gone.

“Dang, I’ll make sure to bring some more food next time.”Cruz pauses, mid-lick of the butter on his claws and looks up at you.

“Next time? You want to meet up again?” You raise your eyebrow.

“Well yeah, don’t you?”

Cruz stays quiet, no sassy comment or a sarcastic look. Just staring, mildly shocked.

Your embarrassment bubbles back, screaming you’ve misread this whole situation and the last few minutes. “I mean, we are soulmates. Shouldn’t we meet up again?”

Cruz's eyes narrow as a barrage of thoughts seem to flit across his head. His smile recedes back into a straight line, that little spark leaving his eye.

“Yeah, I guess we have too.” He crinkles up the plastic bag, shoving it against your calves. “See you tomorrow.”

A pit rolls in your stomach as he quickly moves to leave.

Did I say something wrong?

“Uh, I’m actually busy tomorrow. Can we do Thursday-er, 3 days from now?” Cruz nods, not turning around to face you before slipping back into the water and swimming away.

The pit doesn’t leave your stomach, an empty sauce container rolling across the rocky shore.

What just happened?

#my writing #monster romance #reader insert #monster x reader #merman #shark merman #merman x reader

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kirindensetsu · 3 years

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The Making of Fubuki

((Reposting from Den of Angels workshop thread because I wanted my friends to be able to see~))

After years of pining after dolls I couldn't afford as a broke teenager, my first BJD was a Bobobie Sprite I purchased for my 18th birthday. Unfortunately, she didn't live up to my expectations and I never really bonded with her. Her face was cute enough, but the Bobobie body lacked the grace and posing ability I imagined for the Unseelie faerie I'd been daydreaming of for years. Sueding and wiring didn't help, blushing and tattooing highlighted her blockiness, it was a mess. I packed her away and tried not to think about my disappointment for 12 years. In the meantime I learned to build and paint resin garage kits, inherited one of my sister's dolls, bought some others, took anatomy & physiology in college, and did a couple extensive restorations and full-body modifications. I was sure I had thrown her away at some point as a failed project, but last weekend I found her tucked away in a doll bag I thought was empty. Having just finished substantial mods on a Dollshe body, and awaiting an unfinished Unoa kit for my birthday in September, I decided that I owed it to her to try again. Doll nudity below the cut, looooong post--

My Sprite was originally going to be a pooka with golden eyes and extensive woad tattoos. The golden eyes are incredible, so those are staying, but she's now going to be a blue oni to fit in with the rest of my collection. My plan is to do extensive additive epoxy work, and then to use Krylon Fusion to give everything a unified finish. The goal of the project is to reduce the... idk, STRAIGHTNESS of the old Bobobie body. I was never going to be happy with it, the lines were all far too rigid.

Head: Modified mouth for a wider, smirking smile. Magnets added to headcap (old Bobobie used an S-hook iirc; I did this part back in 2008). Forehead drilled for 3mm brass rod armature, and epoxy used to sculpt horns over rod. Bust: Substantial subtractive modifications to breasts, which involved removal and readdition of nipples. Addition of epoxy clay to back and shoulders to give a more curved body line in profile. Deepening of shoulder sockets with 18mm eye bevel, followed by sanding to make shoulders narrower. Waist: Reshaping of upper torso joint into sphere for smoother range of motion. Subtraction of resin in back and addition of epoxy in front to enhance lumbar curve. Hips: Substantial reshaping of lower waist seam to more naturally follow the pelvic girdle. It reminded me of granny panties before Added epoxy to butt, again for lumbar curve. Thighs: Suwariko joint mod (cut the thigh and added a PVC insert to enable swivelling at the hip). Added epoxy to make her thighs look less straight. Calves: Removed 1cm of length at the ankles and rebevelled the socket. Removed resin at the ankles to bring them in, and added epoxy at the calves to make them curvier. Feet: Sculpted little claws, which were cute, and then decided the feet needed to be 5mm longer. Cut across, drilled and pinned with brass rod for structural strength, gap filled with epoxy clay. I also modded her feet to have defined arches and balls back when I first got her. Alas, spitting into the ocean. I added S-hooks, but did so by drilling the ankle and inserting brass rod to form the axle for the hook. Arms: The proportions on her upper arms BOTHERED me! they were so SHORT! and I only just figured out that's what I hated about them last week! I added 5mm to the upper arms by cutting them in the middle and using SteelStik to make a structural repair (plumber's epoxy putty has a shorter open time but far greater structural strength than artist's epoxy clay). Sanded the heck out of the wrists to give them a more delicate taper. Hands: Beyond salvage. The hands were my least-favorite part of this sculpt. I tried to bulk them up to look less spidery but it was just too difficult... I've ordered a different pair of MSD hands which will have claws added, and then when everything is painted it'll all match. Thanks for reading this far! Here's a preview of what her golden eyes look like next to Krylon Fusion in Antique Blue.

((first progress post)) I think I'm mostly done adding epoxy clay (at least where it'll show; presumably the wrist sockets will require tweaks to fit the new hands), so now it's time for finish sanding. I start with 60 grit for shaping, then switch to a 120 grit sanding sponge. To check for scratches, pinholes, and inadequately feathered edges, I apply a wash of diluted acrylic paint. Once the paint has dried, I scrub the piece with a nylon scouring pad. Paint remains in the surface irregularities.

All sanded with 220 grit. I don't think I'll be going higher than 400 because I want there to be some tooth for the paint.

Any pitting in the epoxy clay that can't be sanded out is marked with a Sharpie and will be patched with Tamiya spot putty.

I did a test spray of the Krylon Fusion on the headcap and it's fantastic! Holy cow is it *poisonous* tho, I'm used to working with volatile chemicals but this was something else. Get OUT OF THE AREA between coats and leave it outside until it stops outgassing, not just until it's ready to handle.

This test piece is four light coats sprayed 1 minute apart, allowed to cure for 4 hours, and then wetsanded to remove the spray texture. It's pretty sturdy but I will wait several more days to see how it continues to cure before experimenting with matte sealants. ((progress update 2))

Haven't done much but sand-and-fill-and-sand-and-fill, but my 14mm beveller came in today so I can start deepening her elbow and ankle sockets. Added some epoxy clay to the insides of the eyewells so 14mm eyes will fit with no gap. I need a needle file to clean up the corners of her mouth... Monster feets! Nails on the right came out better than the left, still need to feather-sand everything.

Elbows progress. The early Bobobie elbows are I guess /technically/ double-jointed because the joint is a sphere with two slots, but I thought I could do better than that. You can see epoxy clay spliced in to make the sphere into a peanut: this isn't a structurally sound repair unless you pop it apart and drill/pin/glue-epoxy it back together.

View from the back. By keeping the joint heads spherical with no elbow-shaped detailing, there's some rotation as well as flexion, which I like.

Touching her face with one of her old hands. I hope the new ones come soon!

((progress update 4))

In good news, these parts are all ready for paint! It's really hard to do prepwork with no filler primer, hope I didn't miss any spots...

In less good news, her new hands arrived and they are... very smol ;u; I forgot that the new trend for slim minis means that everyone has TINY LITTLE HANDS.

They are, however, beautifully sculpted and a good 3D reference for what needs fixing and how. Bobobie palm is very short relative to fingers: I made a transverse cut behind the knuckles and added epoxy to lengthen More curved volume across the back of the hand: Not necessarily realistic, but looks a little cuter, plus it makes the transition into the cylinder of the wrist look less stylistically jarring. More defined joint angles: Some of these I did via cut-and-thermoform repositioning, mostly I'm aiming to fake it by building up and carving away at the weird smooth curves. The fingers are just TOO SKINNY: But obviously I'm not going to squish rice-grain-sized blobs of epoxy to the fingers, right? It's too fiddly, it doesn't want to stick. What's the solution? Brace for a truly hideous WIP image--

"AAAAAAGH WHAT IS THAT DARK GRAY MESS" it's JB Weld epoxy! It's like load-bearing, slow-curing modeller's putty! Slathering putty onto an armature and then carving it away to refine the shape is how anime figure artists make hands and detailed hair. I was thinking about it from a polymer clay technique/perspective so I missed the obvious solution. Hand in the foreground has more layers than the hand in the background, every layer gets the shape a lil closer. ((progress post 5)) Parts set up on sticks so I can handle them without touching...

... and after 4 light coats!

Closeup of the head, lil' glossy because it's still drying. For the deeper areas like the joint slots, mouth, and the crannies of the ears, I'm going to have to decant some of the paint into a jar and apply it with a sacrificial brush.

((progress post 6)) I return from Depression! I finally finished sanding-and-spraying the Krylon Fusion coats, gave her a last polish with microfine to even out the texture, and have started blushing her. I'm using a mixture of Tamiya X-series acrylics applied via airbrush for basic contouring, then I'll go back in with pastel to add warm tones and details.

Fun discovery: in an attempt to cover some accidental overspray, I tried spraying the Fusion directly into the paint cup of the airbrush and using it to "erase" back to the base color. I'm NEVER using this product straight from the can again, it goes on so smooth and gorgeous from the airbrush! No orange peel or bubbles to sand away. I'm seriously tempted to get a can of pink and try blushing with it.

((progress post 7)) Doing a faceup over a spray-painted substrate is HARD I want to CRY. I talked about sanding out the spray texture to get an untextured surface, right? Welp, didn't/couldn't sand well enough in the corners of the mouth and the folds of the eyelids, so it's crusty-looking with pastels over it and now there's nothing I can do about it that doesn't involve stripping down to resin and starting again.

((final post)) Sueded and strung!

I didn't take pictures of the sueding process because I was using Barge Cement and it is messy and time-sensitive. I used masking tape to make templates of her joints, transferred to some thin gray lamb suede I found on eBay, and glued it fuzzy side out. The suede was thicker than real pliver, more like the thickness of silicone KIPS discs, but I think it worked out without too many fit issues. The trim store had 3.5mm elastic in a beautiful slate-blue color that I thought would look nicer in the joint slots, so she's strung throughout with thicker elastic. Some more poses to show off the functional mods~ Suwariko joints let her sit crosslegged, and more mobile wrists let her put her hands into the pose.

A more ball-and-socked shaped contact surface at her waist lets her slouch at a full range of angles instead of being locked into two.

With longer upper arms, she can reach the ground in this pose! You can also see how the modded waist joint lets her cock her hips.

She could always stand with locked knees. I think she needs some wire in her legs to let the suwariko joints hold their rotation against gravity, but I'll see how the elastic tension settles in first.

A parting shot out the snowy window. We've been having a hard time picking between a few names for her, but I think this settles it. Welcome back, Fubuki~

#making-of-fubuki #doll custom #bjd #bobobie

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shimmershae · 2 years

Text

My thoughts on Episode 11--Rogue Element

As always, placed behind a cut for those of you that would rather escape my babbling, lol. You’re welcome.

Welp. Somebody, someone on the grapevine, said there was minimal Carol in this episode and a whole lotta Eugene and Connie. And while I genuinely like each character and wish them well, neither inspires any kind of excitement or anticipation for me. So that, and AMC+ being kinda a shitshow, is why you’re getting these thoughts so late.

Anywho. Shae’s thinky thoughts in 3-2-1.

“What in the name of little billy goats are you doing?” LMAO. Maybe I should use that one in RL.

Okay. But Fake Stephanie almost has to actually like Eugene at least a tiny bit because the manbun coupled with the Kansas City BBQ tee-shirt and the socks doesn’t exactly scream sexay, lol.

Aww. Eugene’s smile when she said “I love you, too” was actually lowkey adorable. This girl better not break his heart.

Eugene using Princess as his romantic sounding board only makes me want her to offer Carol and Daryl unsolicited love advice even more, lol.

No! She stood him up. Poor boy’s ice cream and smile melted away and his world drained of happy color. Just who do I have to speak to to rectify this situation? Ugh.

Where’s Fake Stephanie running off to? Hmm? Walking Dead mystery. M’kay.

Connie being suspicious and a thorn in Pamela Milton’s side already. You love to see it.

Can I just say? I love Kelly. Because I do, lol.

Ohhh. Mercer’s in Trooper Davis’s room.

Rosita/Christian is so pretty. But how in the holy hell is that hair practical for a soldier?

The micro look of pity that crossed her face when Eugene said he wanted to make a statement. Like our girl Rosita doesn’t want her friend’s heart broken.

Damn. That was one ugly mug to be presented with after a would-be commercial break.

My beautiful brainy girl getting her sleuth on and doing reconnaissance.

Lancy recognizes intelligence at least. He still slimy though, lol.

I just wonder, what part of herself did Carol reveal in her file to impress this ambitious weasel?

Drug dealers or smugglers? TWD Breaking Bad? ;)

Mercer looks so effortlessly badass. Like no wonder Princess is such a smitten kitten. Same girl. Same.

LOL at Princess bringing Eugene an empty dish because people have to let people in if they’re carrying food.

Eugene’s detective work on that board looks an awful lot like Caryl shippers trying to figure out how TF anybody but Carol can be Daryl’s love. Like all roads lead back to Carol for the dude even if you don’t “ship” them. Don’t believe me? It starts and ends with her.

Roman Calhoun--what a name, hahaha.

Not gonna lie. I almost expected the Law and Order theme to start playing. Or the Castle theme.

LMAO. Sorry. Sorry. Eugene is going all Fox Mulderon Princess. If he starts sporting a red speedo I may not survive.

Melissa McBride’s eyes are one of the wonders of this world. I swear.

Carol’s spidey senses are clearly tingling.

Are those Walkers hyped up on speed or something because they fast and aggressive?

Whoa! Mercer giving that piece of stanky meat a banana split. Okay, okay. That’s lame AF, lol. Cool shot, though.

Max, aka Real Stephanie, is Mercer’s sister? Ooohhh boy.

Listen. Listen. There was 10,000% more tension between Connie and Mercer than she and Daryl have ever had, PERIODT. If y’all gonna crackship? Crackship Connie and Mercer. Notice I said crackship. Because ya boy is already quite taken with Princess. Prior bonds matter. And anyway. I still maintain that in her short time with us, Connie showed the most depth of feeling with Virgil. I know. It shocked me too. I know not many wanna hear it. But it’s 100% true.

Eugene being a conspiracy theorist rings 100% true.

So does him dreaming of being a science fiction novelist.

“You can’t wait ‘til after you’ve lived through it because ready or not? Right now’s all we got.”

And this, lovelies, is why Carol and Daryl waiting for the right moment, unable to open up to one another, hurts so freaking much. Stop torturing them, AK. Us too.

I love Princess being Eugene’s partner in crime, lol.

“I gotta little job, I gotta little bed, might get a little cat...” And my love for Princess grows leaps and bounds.

Carol is brilliant. Canon.

Mother Puss Bucket? Well. That’s certainly a new one. LMAO.

So is this Calhoun dude some kind of merc? I’m sorry. This feels kinda comical to me.

Who moved Trooper Daviss? Mercer’s pissed.

Okay. Princess deserves all the good things. Make that happen for her, AK.

I played it back several times and still can’t figure out the piece of data Eugene told Princess he was privy to that she was not. Help? Who can tell me what he actually said? I usually only have this problem with NR/Daryl.

So. Do all of the Team Family members look at the Commonwealth as a temporary fix or? Because Kelly saying that to Connie has me wondering.

Okay, though. That list of names. FIrst of all, who did Mercer send to deliver it? If it was Mercer. If it wasn’t, who was it? Because I halfway think it was. Also? April Kelly. Why, for the life of me, do I think Fake Stephanie is April? I can’t explain it. I just do. Probably because that would turn out to be way more interesting, IMHO, than what they actually have planned.

I’m getting total X-Files vibes here. Why?

Instead of flashlight, Eugene’s got a spray bottle and it’s cracking my shit up, LOL.

My poor Eugene. Fake Stephanie really out there kung fooing him in the gut.

Ofc, she’s sworking with Lancy.

Lancy is such a slick slimeball. I’m gonna take infinite pleasure in Carol eventually ending him because you know it’s coming.

Welp. There’s goes that theory about Fake Stephanie, hahaha.

The way they broke Eugene’s heart before he got a chance to really meet real Stephanie. Way to go, AK. We love pain, don’t we?

Eugene burning his book manuscript is him burning his dreams of love and acceptance and success and I am cry. Josh is really dealing this episode.

Omigosh! He met the real Stephanie, er Max! I wasn’t expecting that reveal that soon.

Okay. Carol + Daryl in the previews + Aaron and a possibility of Lydia makes Shae a happy girl.

Neo-noir, AK? Definitely. Surface story and what lies beneath is oh-so-appropriate.

They determined to make Eugene a sad sack, huh?

Both sides of Lancy being true? Interesting.

Transactional relationship, indeed. Literally the only relationship for the sake of Carol loving a person soul deep, the relationship for her? Has been Daryl. Fight me.

Overall impressions?

I enjoyed the episode much more than I thought I would.

There wasn’t enough Carol, there never really is, but what there was of her? Was impactful.

Eugene/Josh broke my heart and tickled my funny bone a few times.

Princess remains a delight. I’m loving everything about her.

The Mercer/Real Stephanie, aka Max connection was a nice surprise.

I’m so happy Connie has an actual story and purpose now. It’s long overdue and I enjoy her and Kelly working together. I do regret, though, that Kelly seems to have stepped back into her sister’s shadow somewhat but I trust she’ll emerge eventually.

I’m looking forward to next week. Here’s hoping with good reason. \

#The Walking Dead #TWD spoilers #Shae's thinky thoughts #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons

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chat-noir-always-here · 3 years

Text

“Hey Arnold!” and “Miraculous!” parallels

Ever have an idea for a post that you take forever to get around to because 2020 is

actively

trying

to kill you?!

Welp, that’s me. I mean, uh, this is that post.

Long post is long and I don’t like cuts cuz I’ve lost a few posts in the past using them. Please filter the tag “long post” I use it for walls of text like these.

So there’s this show from my childhood called Hey Arnold!

Having been on air before I had cable (I and my unsupervised brothers and sisters spent our childhood watching Jerry Springer and Maury because there was literally nothing else on our cheap little TV. How hilarious is that?) I didn’t really have much of an experience with Hey Arnold! aside from brief little glances at it when i visited a friends home or the rare occasion where they showed cartoons at school. By the time I got satellite, the show was no longer on the air save for some late night reruns and the Christmas special which aired in December along with other Nickelodeon Christmas episodes (THE best Christmas episode EVER btw).

Really I couldn’t remember much about it until hearing about the Jungle Movie finally getting a release date (a total flop but at least its no cliff hanger) and decided to re-watch the entire series in preparation for said movie.

By which point I had discovered another show—Miraculous.

At first glance the two shows have absolutely nothing in common. Miraculous being a French-born mahou shoujo-esque CGI superhero TV series about a couple of middle schoolers who regularly battle a walking peppermint-frappucino-looking psychopath. Hey Arnold! being a more realistic children’s sitcom about a young football-headed boy who deals out humanitarian aid in the form of advice and simple good deeds to his neighbors, classmates and friends.

In terms of setting, logic, and animation the two series are as different as night and day.

So imagine my pleasant surprise to discover a whole post’s worth of parallels shared between the two shows???

And here they are in no particular order:

1)Arnold’s Parents/Adrien’s mom

Prior to the start of Miraculous, Emilie Agreste disappeared under mysterious circumstances leaving her family behind. Later on it was revealed that she was in fact sleeping (dead?) in a glass coffin beneath the Agreste mansion--unbeknownst to Adrien, or anyone else in Paris save for Gabriel and Nathalie.

In a similar fashion, Arnold’s parents, Miles and Stella, also disappeared prior to the start of Hey Arnold! and like Emilie were always referred to as “missing” rather than “dead.”

The Jungle Movie later revealed Miles and Stella weren’t dead, but like Emilie appears to be doing in her coffin, they were sleeping. Having caught a bout of sleeping sickness (apparently they do not need to be hooked up to IVs or other medical devices while in a comatose state cuz fuck logic) they simply needed their orphaned son to come and cure them with the help of the magical golden heart Helga provided him with.

Perhaps Mari holds the key to waking Emilie? That would be nice to see.

Not the miraculous of course--but some other key.

Although personally I’m hoping for a hardcore, devastating ending like Emilie dying, Gabriel going to prison where he belongs, and Adrien leaving the country for a bit until the second Hawk Moth shows up because I just like devastating cliffhangers and angst and being in utter turmoil over fictional people. But that’s just me.

2) Their best friends are dating

Smol parallel here: Arnold’s best friend Gerald and Helga’s Best friend Phoebe wind up together in The Jungle Movie after being imprisoned together by Lasombra. Similar to how Nino and Alya ended up together after being imprisoned by Ladybug (for their protection, of course).

3) The Bag of Money Episode/ The Ladybug episode

OOh boy both of these episodes make me rage.

Some context about the Bag of Money episode: Arnold and his friends Gerald and Sid find a random bag of money containing almost $4000. Sid is ecstatic and wants to split the money evenly between the three boys, but Arnold worries it could just be lost and convinces them to let him, Arnold, take the money to the police station. On the way he accidentally switches the bag with another one that is identical and contains a bunch of useless junk, and when he tries to explain what happened to his friends they don’t believe him because their bag of money was accidentally taken by an “old lady with pink hair and a peg leg.”

Arnold’s a good boy and he’s telling the truth--but the truth sounds crazy, even to my ears. Sid accuses Arnold of stealing the money and spreads lies to their classmates, whom Arnold has spent the ENTIRE SERIES helping in some form or fashion. Despite everything he’s done for them though, the vast majority of the class come to believe Arnold is a thief. Even Gerald, Arnold’s closest friend, nearly believes Sid over Arnold but eventually comes to Arnold’s defense. The other kids (save for Helga who doesn’t really make an appearance this episode) gang up on Arnold, but thankfully the old lady with pink hair and a peg leg shows up with an officer and together they explain the bag of money is now at the lost and found where it will remain and if gone unclaimed will be returned to Arnold, Gerald and Sid.

Pretty much everything is resolved and things return to normal between the kids.

But I hate this episode. I hate this episode so, so much. Arnold has spent the entire series helping these people out in some form or fashion. Literally thats the entire show. And after everything he’s done for them they’re so. Quick. To. Turn. On. Him.

Sound familiar???

4) Hidden Personality vs. Surface Personality

I do not refer to the cruddy “true selves” thing half the Miraculous fandom believes in. Depending on one’s individual circumstances, environment and how comfortable they are, said person’s behavior can fluctuate or even do a complete 180. This can be kinda frustrating when dealing on one’s own--”Who am I anyway? Is that me or is this me???”

It’s all you, fam.

Arnold and Helga are themselves too, no matter what metaphorical/actual mask they put on. There’s the side that everyone sees and then there’s the side almost no one sees. The hidden personality isn’t hidden due to a lack of trust, necessarily, but rather it is the result of retreating to their respective “shells”--ones which both Arnold and Helga were kinda punched, kicked, and shoved into.

Helga’s surface personality: Class bully, puts up a tough front, constantly torments Arnold because she can’t stand him and his niceness

Helga’s hidden personality: Poetic, abused and isolated, is in love with Arnold to the point of being obsessed with him and bullies him via surface personality in order to hide that fact

Of course Adrien is no bully--his reasons for not being the “cunning, funny, ultra-charming Chat Noir” 24/7 DOES have a lot to do with his toxic household, his dad, and the overwhelming expectations which are constantly smothering him as Adrien.

Adrien is a bug under a magnifying glass (or so he feels)

Chat Noir is a chance for a freedom.

Adrien’s surface personality was molded by his dad.

Helga’s is the result of her entire family. Her father is brash and loud, her mother is a confirmed alcoholic, her sister is a gifted prodigy, well-rounded and spends most of the series at university or elsewhere. Although her sister, Olga, has been shown to genuinely care for Helga, Olga is kinda the reason their parents neglect Helga. With their first daughter being the genius and prodigy she is, Helga’s parents poured all of their pride and affection and parental devotion onto her. Meanwhile Helga had to walk to pre-school alone. At four years old. In the rain. Not for the last time.

Which leads me to the next parallel.

5) Umbrella in the Rain

squeals in delight over this parallel<3<3<3

If you’ve never seen Hey Arnold! do yourselves a favor and watch this short little clip over how Helga and Arnold first met. If you have seen it, watch it anyway because it is the most adorable clip in the entire show.

youtube

Dr. Bliss: “So nobody’s ever noticed you?”

Helga: “...There was someone.”

The soft way Helga confesses that--you can actually hear how grateful she is to have such a tender memory from such a painful time.

In a similar manner, Adrien offered his umbrella to Marinette. Of course Adrien did it because Mari had to walk home in the rain and Arnold did it as a simple gesture of kindness (seeing as they were already at the school)--one of the many kind acts he displays throughout the series.

But just like Adrien needed unconditional love coming from somewhere, so did Helga. They were both denied this one common necessity which everyone else around them had. It’s not a lot to ask for, and they should’ve already had it coming from their families--but they didn’t.

And then, one rainy day, there it was--the unconditional love they needed.

6) Clinginess

What happens when you take someone, specifically a love-starved abused child from an unstable home environment--deprived of the one thing most crucial to their mental well-being--and miraculously provide them with that very necessity?

Clinginess.

I can’t really think of the correct word to describe this. “Clinginess” is pretty close to what I’m trying to describe, if not on point, so let’s go with that.

What I mean is Helga and Adrien both need Arnold and Ladybug respectively. That’s not a bad thing--it’s okay to need somebody else. What’s bad is hinging your entire being on this one connection. For if either kiddo were to be left behind they wouldn’t handle it very well.

It can’t really be helped with either Helga or Adrien. They didn’t really have the option to learn certain things and went deprived of unconditional love for such a long time. They’re kids--nine and fourteen/fifteen respectively. They’re not perfect and they’re traumatized for life. Being denied love from your family--the very people designed to love you--would do that to a person. Naturally they would cling to the first people to show up and provide them with the love they needed.

The Hey Arnold! wiki says this about Helga and Arnold’s relationship

Due to her unstable family upbringing where both her mother and father constantly neglect [Helga] and shower all of their attention onto Olga, leaving her deprived of the love and attention she needed growing up. On her way to preschool, Arnold helped her by keeping the rain off her with an umbrella and even complimented her on her hairbow. He even later gave her crackers during their snack time. Arnold's kindness and being the first person to notice her quickly caused Helga to transfer all of her love and attention to Arnold.

Of course Adrien’s tunnel vision isn’t quite as bad as Helga’s.

He treats his friends better.

He does love his father--

Even though his father is THE.

WORST.

PARENT.

EVER!!!

--because he’s Adrien and he’s just too precious a cinnamon roll and that’s still his dad even if the man does belong behind bars.

7) Unhealthy Obsession

I--

I...

Ugh. I am not going to delve too far into this. You’re just going to have to take my word for it. Helga’s creepy stalker behavior is a thousand times worse than Marinette’s. That pic up there of Helga hiding out in Arnold’s room watching him is pretty decent evidence to back up my argument, but it’s hardly the only example or even the worst incident.

Honestly I’m amazed at what Nicktoons were able to get away with in the late nineties/early 2000s.

But yes, Helga’s obsession with Arnold is rather unhealthy in the most extreme moments leading her to display behavior which is more often than not disturbing and concerning.

The Hey Arnold! wiki has this to say about Helga’s obsession with Arnold

Helga is possessive of her love for Arnold and thinks non-stop about him to the point of obsession. This is evidenced throughout the series by the many shrines and poems she makes of Arnold and of her frequent dramatic soliloquies about her love for Arnold.

Again--Mari isn’t as bad as all that. She’s a sweet girl with many healthy relationships in her life. She has ambition, creativity, and drive. But yeah she can be rather possessive of Adrien too, and that needs to stop. Like right now. Adrien doesn’t need another girl being possessive of him and thinking he’s perfect--he needs someone who acknowledges him as a flawed person and loves him despite that.

As for Helga and Arnold--show creator Craig Bartlett confirmed they are “made for each other” and wind up married with three kids, so I’m guessing Helga grew out of some of these bad habits? Or at least I hope so...

8) Helper/Humanitarian tendencies

As mentioned before, the plot of Hey Arnold! is more or less about Arnold helping people. As stated by Gerald in The Jungle Movie, “He’s a humanitarian! Like his parents!” Of course not every episode is about Arnold helping people. There are episodes devoted to supporting characters and they’re just as enjoyable and satisfying.

But as he is the titular character he spends a lot of time in the spotlight.

Remember that “best christmas special EVER” episode I mentioned before?

The reason it’s the best special, in my less than humble opinion, is due to a few things.

The special is not about Santa Claws. In fact, I don’t think he’s even mentioned, let alone shown and treated like an actual living character.

The focus on the entire episode is again on Arnold helping someone, but he doesn’t succeed. Not really.

The one who succeeded in helping someone was Helga, who accomplished the goal Arnold had set out to do.

The episode deals with some rather dark subject matter and is actually quite heartwarming as the “perfect present” Arnold was trying to provide someone with wasn’t something you can buy in the store

It’s also one of the episodes where Helga’s love for Arnold leaves her to do good and as her love for him is a secret, she expects nothing in return. She’s just happy to help him.

Kinda similar to Mari who is, as Adrien puts it in Mayura, “Our every day Ladybug.” Her kindness and devotion to helping others is what drives her as Ladybug and Marinette. It’s what brought Ivan and Mylene together. Is the reason Nathaniel and Mark now have a comic book together. And at the end of the day, that’s the reason for her strange behavior around Adrien--she wants to help him. Even if it’s just as a “good friend.”

9) There are two main characters

Although Hey Arnold! is technically a show about Arnold, one could argue it is just as much Helga’s story.

Similarly, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir is named thusly in order to convey the fact that Adrien is just as much a main character as Marinette is.

Although I must say Hey Arnold! did a much better job of giving it’s co-character their dues. GIVE. ME. MORE. CHAT NOIR. FOCUSED. EPISODES. DAMMIT.

But, yes, in terms of screen time, Helga gets about as much as Arnold does. Her story and struggles were given just as much importance as Arnold’s and many people have even come to believe that the show is really about Helga. I’d say its about both of them.

10) Constantly bumping into each other

Granted this happens between Arnold and Helga more often than it does to the love square dorks.

But yes the two people meant to be together keep knocking into each other in their respective universes.

I forget who, but I remember reading that someone a while back theorized that this was the universe’s way of trying to push Arnold and Helga together. Kinda like the “Now kiss!” meme

Perhaps it’s the same for Adrien and Marinette?

;)

#long post #adriennette #shortaki #hey arnold #miraculous ladybug #love square #nicktoons #zag toons

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

My Everything - Part Seventeen

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: fluff and angst. TW: mentions of past abuse!

Words: 6.7K

a/n: This part is a little more serious, with some fun things sprinkled in between.

Masterpost

Many things were the same with this pregnancy as they were with Jack. Harry took a picture of you every week to watch your tummy grow, and he also insisted on doing a maternity shoot. You thought it could be even more fun to have Jack involved too. Harry had set up a nice space in your bedroom. You had a robe on and did your hair and makeup nicely. Jack was coloring on the floor sitting next to Buster.

“Ready babe? Drop the robe.” Harry smiles as he finishes getting his setting on the camera just right.

You take a deep breath and let your robe fall. Harry’s eyes grow wide and he clears his throat as he blushes. If Jack wasn’t in the room he probably would have fucked you before taking the pictures.

“How were you able to shave?”

“I didn’t…um…remember when I was with the girls the other day?”

“Yeah.”

“Well…Rachel bought a home wax kit and she waxed me.”

“The three of you…are a little too close.” Harry chuckles.

“Well at least it looks pretty now!”

“It always looks pretty, hairy or not.”

Harry positions you how he looks, getting a nice side profile. He always took really tasteful photos of you. Jack wasn’t paying much attention until Harry took out some paint. You put on a nude bra and underwear set.

“Jack, wanna come be in the pictures with Mummy?”

“Yeah!” He gets up and gives you a hug.

“Alright, I want you to stick your hands in the paint, and press them gently on Mummy’s tummy, yeah?”

“Okay!”

Jack was really excited, he loved paint, and he loved when you and Harry allowed him to be a little messy. Harry lifts him up and helps him press his hands on your stomach, around your belly button. You hold onto Jack so Harry can snap some photos. The hand prints looked really cool, and Harry was able to get a candid shot of you and Jack giggling.

“Were you able to find that crop top for the family photo? I’ll get this on a timer so I can do the paint too.”

“Mhm, let me go put it on.”

You come back out in a black short sleeve crop top and black joggers. Harry dips his hand on the paint and presses them to the sides of where Jack’s hand prints were.

“There, see Jack, it took all of our love to make this baby.”

Jack beams up at his father. Harry scoops him up and they position themselves to take some family photos. You put your hands in the paint and press one hand on Jack’s stomach, and one Harry’s back, making for a very cool shot. Harry had too many tattoos on his stomach for the hand print to be prominent. You get a shot with Buster too, and you all smile as they look them over.

“Pretty, Mumma.” Jack says.

“You think so? I’d say we’re a pretty good looking family.” You look at Harry lovingly. “Thank you so much for convincing me to do this again, it’s so special.”

“Of course, honey.” He kisses your cheek. “You just look so good, it would be a crime not to document it.”

Time was going by way too fast. You were due soon, and you were freaking out because it was only the middle of April. Someone would have to take over your classes for the rest of the semester. You were hoping to hold on for a couple more weeks, but Jessica Rose had other plans for you. You were in the middle of one of your lectures when you felt something.

“Oh my god.” You gasp, and squat. The whole class gasps. Your water had broken and it was seeping down your pant legs. “I’m fine, everyone!”

“Did your water just break?!” One of them shouts.

“Yes.” You breathe and reach for your cell phone. “I need, shit, to call my husband.” You press your phone to your ear. “Class dismissed, uh, Kelly, can you let the admin know what’s going on?”

“Sure thing!”

A few students hang back to make sure you’re okay.

“Harry?!”

“Hi! Aren’t yeh teachin’? Do yeh miss me?” He chuckles.

“My water just broke in front of my class.”

“What?!”

“Can you get over here? My go bag is in my trunk already, so you just need to, fucking hell, get here.”

“I’m gonna take a cab, I’ll be there in ten minutes. I’ll snatch Jack from day care, just get to your car.”

“Okay.”

A couple of your students help you outside to your car. Before you know it you see Harry running towards you with Jack in his arms. He grabs you by the back of your neck to kiss you.

“Okay, uh, I’ll get him strapped in, get in the car, babe.” He says excitedly.

Harry speeds to the hospital. Jack got a little frightened once you were inside and getting wheeled away. Harry called your mom and had her come pick him up.

“Where’s Mumma!?” He sobs.

“She’s…gone to pick up baby Jessica, Jack. And Daddy needs to go help her. But you’re really lucky, you get to spend time with Mimi. I need yeh to be a big boy f’me, can yeh do that?”

“I’ll try.” He sniffles.

Harry gives him a kiss and a hug before handing him off to your mom. He sprints down to your hospital room where you were chewing on ice chips.

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. You know how he is when he first leaves us. I think he was just scared from all the commotion. I’m sure your mum will calm him down.” Harry takes your hand and kisses it. “How are you feelin’ this time around?”

“Remember when I told you what it was like when I got my nipples pierced? The first one didn’t hurt because of the adrenaline, but the second one hurt because I knew what to expect?”

“Yeah.”

“Welp.” You burst into tears. “I suddenly remembered what it was like to push a giant head out of my vagina, and I’m probably gonna tear open again, and…” You look up at him. “Tell me again, why I wanted to do this?”

“Because you wanted to have another baby around.” He smooths some hair away from your forehead. “And we really like makin’ babies.”

“We do, we really do.”

“It’s gonna be alright, love. I’ve got way more time off from work this go around, and you have the entire summer.”

“What if Jack doesn’t like her? He used to getting all of the attention. He’s only going to be three next month, he won’t understand.”

“Well, he took a liking to those dolls we gave him. Remember how good and gentle he was with the baby? I think he’s excited. He may not like it all the time, but like everything else he’ll get used to it.”

“I can’t wait for them to drug me up soon. I read that sometimes the second kid can come a lot faster.”

“Let’s hope.” He leans in and kisses your forehead.

Thirty-six hours in labor. You had no idea what was going on. Your water had broken, what was the hold up? You were uncomfortable and in pain and you just wanted this baby out.

Dr. Johnson comes in to check on you.

“So…I’d like to talk to you both about a cesarean.”

“You want to cut me open?!” You look at Harry, frightened.

“It’s much less invasive than it used to be, and you’d be in really good hands.”

“I don’t want to have a giant scar across my stomach!”

“You won’t, like I said, it’s not like how it used to be. The recovery time takes a little longer, but your vagina won’t tare open.” She tries to make a joke, but right now you weren’t sure what to say. “It’s up to you, but you’ve been in this hospital for two days.”

“Would I still be able to go in with her?”

“Oh sure! We’ll numb her up, you won’t even feel a thing.”

“What do you wanna do, Y/N?”

“I think I’m ready to meet our daughter.”

“Great, we’ll get everything prepped.”

They let you hold Jessica skin to skin, but Harry wasn’t able to until you were back in the actual hospital room. You felt disgusting. They had to give you a bed pan. You never thought you’d miss the mesh underwear so much. You found yourself crying every few minutes from the pain that was creeping into your body, but Harry would call a nurse and she’d give you some medicine.

You breast fed Jessica just as you did Jack. She was gorgeous. Harry couldn’t stop crying either.

“I just love her so much.” He sobbed as he held her close to him.

Eventually you felt strong enough to use the bathroom, and a nurse helped you through it. After another night of rest you told your mom she could bring Jack in to see you.

“Mumma!” He exclaims as he comes into the room. “Missed you!”

“I missed you too.” You say, tiredly.

“What about me?” Harry pouts at him.

“Missed you too, Daddy.”

Harry scoops him up.

“Come on, we gotta wash your hands. How was he, Lynn?”

“Very good, we had a nice few days together.” She comes over and kisses you on the forehead. “A c-section, huh? Had four of them myself, you know?”

“It’s much different now. I need to stay here a couple extra days, but at least it doesn’t burn when I pee.” You laugh.

“Where’s little Jessica?”

“Down at the nursery. A nurse is going to bring her in soon. We were exhausted.”

A nurse comes in shortly and you take your daughter from her.

“Harry, put Jack on the bed with me.” He does as you say. Jack’s eyes grew wide as he looked at the baby in your arms. “Now, Jack, this is much different than your baby doll. You need to be even more gentle, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Meet your baby sister, Jessica Rose.”

You tilt her towards Jack so he can see her face. He gives a gentle stroke on her cheek.

“Baby.” He whispers.

“God, look at them.” Harry blubbers while he takes his phone out. He takes a picture of the three of you.

“Here, let me get one of the four of you.” Your mom says.

Harry picks up Jack and sits on the bed with you. The four of you snuggle up close. It’s a great picture.

“Once you feel up to it, we can get a real portrait done.” He tells you. “What do you think, Jack? Ready to be a big brother?”

“Yeah, she smells good.”

You laugh as you hand Jessica over to your mom.

“That’s that new baby smell, buddy.” Harry says to him.

You had to spend a couple days extra in the hospital to make sure you were healed up properly. Harry was a saint. You were too weak to do much other than feed Jessica when you got back home. You didn’t breast feed much. You just pumped and put everything into the fridge. It allowed harry to feed Jessica much easier.

Jack soon discovered he didn’t like the sound of the baby crying. He also didn’t like how much attention the baby got over him, especially from you.

“Put baby down, Mumma.” He would whine.

“I can’t right now, honey, I’m giving her a bath.” You were bathing her in the sink.

“Jack, I think Jessica has the right idea. Let’s go give you a tubby.” Harry says.

“No, I want Mumma.”

“You can’t fit in the sink anymore, Jack.” You giggle. “You’re gonna be three years old very soon.” You pick Jessica up and boop her nose. You wrap her in a towel and hold her close. “I’ll put her down and then we can give him a tubby together.”

“You heard her.” Harry says to his son. “I’ll get the water started.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you lull her to sleep? I think Jack needs some alone time with me.”

“Alright.” He kisses your cheek and goes into the baby’s room.

“Okay, baby boy, let’s get you clean.”

You and Jack play with his water toys, and then you scrub his head. Just like Harry, he loved the way your nails felt while you washed his hair.

“Daddy and I have a big surprise for your birthday.”

“Really?”

“Mhm, it’s coming in a couple of weeks.”

“What is it?”

“Can’t say.” You smirk.

“No fair.” He pouts.

“Just know, it’s going to make summers even more fun.”

You wrap him in a towel and lift him out. You get Jack in jammies and get him tucked into bed. You read him one of his favorite stories until he falls asleep. You kiss his forehead before leaving his room. You let out a tired sigh after you close his door.

You go down the stairs to see Harry making dinner. Just a simple salad. He hands you a bowl.

“Thanks, honey.” You yawn.

“Sorry he’s been so clingy lately. I try to keep him busy most of the day. Buster helps tire him out, but it’s like the second he sees you…”

“He wants his, Mumma, I get it. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like spending so much time with you though.”

“I know.” He sighs. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better. The extra rest you gave me was much appreciated.”

“Well, you needed it.” He sets his bowl down and wraps his arms around you. You rest your head on his shoulder.

“I’m tired.” You groan.

“Wanna turn in early?”

“It’s only seven.”

“So? I’m happy to go crawl into bed if you are.” He chuckles.

“Alright, yeah. Oh! We could watch something on TV and just relax.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“A pool!” Jack squeals when you let him outside.

You and Harry had saved up for over a year to get an above ground pool built in the back yard. You wanted to give Jack a pool party for his third birthday.

“We’re gonna have a big party here next weekend just for you, honey.”

“Just for me?!”

“That’s right.”

“Thank you, Mumma.” He hugs your legs.

“Go thank Daddy too.”

Jack runs over to Harry who was finishing getting the pool filled. He hugs his legs too.

“When can we go in?” Harry scoops Jack up so he can see into the water.

“Not for another few days. Gotta test it and make sure it’s safe.” Harry comes over to you. You were feeding Jessica. “I picked up a heating pad too, you can lay it across the water to make the water warm, just in case it’s too cold.”

“Good thinking, babe.” You hold your daughter up and pat her back to help her burp. “Jack, would you like Daddy to take you to the store so you can pick out some pool toys and floaties?”

“Yeah! Can we, Daddy?”

“Of course. We can head out soon. We can pick out something Mumma would like too.” He winks at you.

You needed a nap. You were exhausted. Even though Harry was more than willing and able to do the night feedings, you found yourself beating him to it. You bring Jessica up to her room and get her settled into her crib. You crawl onto your bed and close your eyes. Your body was still doing a lot of healing. You had started going for walks on the treadmill in the basement. You wouldn’t be able to go for neighborhood walks with Sarah until June when her school year ended. You’d be back in shape in no time.

You woke up about twenty minutes later to the sound of your phone going off. You wondered if Harry had a question about the pool toys. When you see Dr. Mara’s name pop up, you’re slightly confused. She still prescribed you your medication, but you hadn’t had an actual visit with her in quite some time.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N, it’s Dr. Mara.”

“Hi, yeah, um, is everything okay?”

“Yes, well, there’s an article I saw online today…I think you should see it, but I wanted to call first before just texting it to you.”

“What does it entail?”

“Jake…” Your eyes grow wide. It was a name you hadn’t even thought about in years. “He’s been arrested recently. I know you never came forward with anything, but sometimes…well, sometimes when more people step forward on these things, it helps. Everything is up to you, of course. I’m going to send you the article. Do with the information what you will.”

“Okay, um, thank you for letting me know.”

You hang up and she sends you the article. He had been arrested on domestic violence charges. Apparently he had been divorced, and he had attacked his ex-wife. She was pressing charges, but the article didn’t get into it.

“Oh my god.” You feel tears prick at the back of your eyes. You lose all control and start sobbing.

Jack couldn’t wait to show you the things him and Harry got at the store. He races upstairs to your bedroom.

“Jack, mummy could be sleeping, hold on.” Harry whispers and picks him up. He opens the door to your room quietly. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, shaking, eyes red and puffy. “Y/N?”

“Mumma! We got so many toys.”

“That’s, that’s great, honey.” Your voice was hoarse and just as shaky as your body.

“Um, Jack, could you go color in your room for a bit?”

“But you said we could show Mumma.” He pouts.

“We will, I just need to talk with mummy alone quick.”

He sets Jack down. He grumbles as he leaves the room. Harry sits down next to you. You flinch when he tries to put his hand on you. You hand him your phone to show him the article. He gasps when he reads it.

“How did you even come across this?”

“Dr. Mara called me.” You say quietly. “She said…if I were to come forward…it could help this woman’s case. Get him locked up.” You sigh. “It’s weird, it’s like, I almost forgot I had been through anything.” You start crying again. “If I had just pressed charges back then this poor woman he married wouldn’t be dealing with this.”

“Y/N.” Harry gently places his hand on your back. “It’s okay.”

“I still have everything. I don’t know if the DNA would even still be on there, but I kept everything in a box just in case. I could go to the police station and give my story. I have to help.”

“You’re sure this is something you want to go through? You may end up needing to testify.”

“I made a mistake by not doing this before.” You put your hand on his knee. “We have children now. If something like this ever happened to either of them…I’d, I’d lose my goddamn mind! I can go to the police station this week. I know it’s cutting it close to Jack’s party, but I should do this sooner rather than later.”

“Do you want me to go with you? We could get a babysitter.”

“No, I should go by myself. You stay home with the kids.”

“I’m so sorry this is all being brought back up. Are you gonna be okay?”

“I don’t think I will be until I know that monster is properly put away.”

The next morning you rummaged in the basement for the box you had kept the bags of the sheets and dress in. You sighed when you found it. You weren’t sure what it would do, but you were thankful you kept it. Harry kisses you goodbye before you go. You wanted to leave before Jack woke up.

You drive out to the police department that had arrested Jake. You take a deep breath before walking in. You walk up to a woman sitting at a desk. There were a ton of people walking around, and loud phones going off. You shake all of the background noise away.

“May I help you?”

“Um, yes, I…need to report…a few years ago…you recently arrested Jake Robinson, and he raped me a few years ago.” That was the first time you ever actually said something like that out loud.

“Oh my.” The woman says. “You’re not the first person to come in about this. One moment.” She makes a call and a few minutes later a detective come out.

“Hi, I’m Detective Ruiz.” She says to you. “Would you like to come have a chat with me? I’m working the Robinson case.”

You nod and follow her back to her desk.

“These are, um, the sheets…and what I was wearing when it happened.” You place the bags on her desk. “It happened back in 2018, so I don’t know if they’ll be helpful.”

“They definitely will be. We can send everything off to the lab. They’ll be able to tell us what’s on it.”

“The woman up front said I wasn’t the only one to come in…”

“You’re not. We arrested him last week, and three other women came forward.”

“How’s his ex-wife doing?”

“She’s making it through.” She takes a note pad out. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Of course. We had been on about four dates. He seemed like a really nice guy. We hadn’t been too intimate, mostly just kissing. On our fourth date, I invited him up to my place. We ended up on my bed. I thought we would just get into, um, some heavy petting, but before I knew it my head was being shoved into my pillows and he was just…well, you know. I didn’t feel safe enough to say no. I thought he might do something even more forceful. I certainly didn’t consent to sex. When he left I passed out from the blood on my sheets and the blood between my legs. My best friend, Niall Horan, came and helped me afterwards.”

“Did you happen to take any pictures?”

“No…the only time I used my phone…oh, wait, um…I do have a picture of Jake and I from our date that night. We had gone for a walk and taken a selfie.” You go onto your Instagram and scroll back really far. You weren’t sure why you kept this picture, but right now you were glad you did. “See.” You show her.

“Are you able to send that to me? He may claim he’s never met you before.”

“Of course. I feel terrible. I should have come forward when it happened.”

“All of the other women said the same thing, don’t worry. The others happened before you. It can be hard to talk about these things. Coming to us doesn’t exactly help make it all go away.”

“I just want to do everything I can to help now. I have a soon to be three year old, and an infant to think about.” You think for a moment. “I went to therapy for years. I know there’s doctor patient confidentiality, but I’ll sign whatever waiver that’s needed if you need more information to support the case.”

“Thank you, we really appreciate that. May I ask who you saw?”

“Dr. Pricilla Mara.”

She nods and writes the information down.

“Alright Mrs…?”

“Um, my husband’s last name is Styles, but legally I go by Y/F/N Y/L/N…I’m a PhD as well, that’s why I kept my name.”

“Kept my own name too.” She smirks. “No need to explain that. So, the lab process will take some time. We’ll be in touch, though.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you for coming in. You’re definitely making a big difference.”

When you get home you find Harry on the couch with Jessica in the crook of his arm, and Jack nuzzled up close in his other side. He was reading one of his books to them. You giggle slightly and take your phone out to take a picture.

“Mumma!” Jack exclaims and gets up to run over to you. “Where were you?” He pouts.

“I had to run an errand, my doll.” You pick him up and kiss his cheek. “But I’m home now. Can I sit there, Daddy?”

“Sure thing, Mummy.” You sit down and Harry throws his arm around you. He kisses your temple. “Jack really liked the story in this book. I pretended it was about a prince and a princess.”

“Ah, well, let’s keep reading then.”

It was a nice family day. You pushed Jack on the swing outside while Harry took Jessica for a walk in the stroller with Buster. Then he grilled up some food for dinner. Once both kids were down, you told Harry about what happened at the police station.

“So, they’ll call you if they need more from you?”

“Yup.”

“You’re being really brave, I hope you know that.”

“Thanks. You had a nice morning with them?”

“It was great. Jack crawled into bed with me and we had a nice snuggle before I had to get Jessica. She was so good for me too. I made Jack pancakes for breakfast after I fed her. We had a nice chat. He misses his friends at day care, but he said he’s excited that we’ll both be home for a bit.”

“Aw, he’s so sweet. We had fun in the backyard earlier. I like that you’ll be home with me a little longer than last time.”

“Me too. Mum and Gem are excited to fly in for the party.”

“They come Friday, right?”

“Mhm.”

“I can’t wait for them to meet Jessica.” You wrap your arms around his neck, and his hands rest on your waist. “We have a nice life.”

“Wouldn’t trade it for anything else.” He kisses you gently.

“Okay, I’m letting go before you think this is an invitation.” You chuckle.

“What?!” He laughs. “I wasn’t even making a move!”

“I could feel your hands sliding down to my butt, I can read you like a book, Harry. I know your moves.”

“Well, as much as I’d love to get my hands all over you, I know we can’t yet.” He rolls his eyes. “Even though my little friend stayed intact this time.” He wraps his arms back around you and pulls you close.

“Yeah, well, my stomach is still healing up.”

“I’m well aware, angel.” He kisses you again. “Doesn’t mean I can’t kiss you does it?” He mumbles against your lips.

“I suppose that’s okay.”

He leads you over to the couch, and lays you down. He hovers over you and sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. You can’t remember the last time you simply just made out with your husband. After the morning you had this was everything you could have needed. He knew that. He always knew what to do.

He deepens the kiss by licking into your mouth, and you have absolutely no problem with it. Your tongue finds his and you just feel like you’re getting lost in each other like you used to. You’re taken out of your intoxicated state when you hear Jessica cry through the baby monitor. Harry sighs into your neck. He slowly lifts off of you.

“I’ll go check her, why don’t you go take a bath or something. You’ve had a long day.”

“Thanks, yeah, maybe I will.”

You both go upstairs. Harry changes Jessica and rocks her back to sleep. He checks on Jack quick to make sure the baby didn’t wake him. He was sound asleep. Harry goes into the bedroom and sees the bathroom door open a crack, you were just getting into the tub. He opens the door and leans against the frame.

“I’d ask you to join, but I’m still a little self-conscious.” You blush.

“S’alright, can I sit against the tub just to be near you?”

“Of course.”

Harry sits down on the cold tile. You drape your hand over his head and mindlessly play with his hair. Times like these you almost forgot you were a parent. When you’d be able to just sit and talk with Harry about things. He’d be home with you through the end of May and for the month of June. You decided that since Anne and Gemma were coming here, that it would be a good idea to not go to England this summer, and to just make your trip longer in January.

“Are you sure you’re okay with not being able to see your friends?”

“You know that’s not the only reason why we go there right?” He turns slightly to look at you. “I love seeing Louis and all, but we go there to see other family. I go there to get some other work done. Besides, since we’re not going we’re making more money off the flat.” He shrugs. “And traveling with Jack and Jessica right now doesn’t sound all that appealing. It would be a lot. You’re still healing too.”

“I’m just saying, if you wanted to go…”

“You’re crazy if you think I’d use the time off from work that I’m supposed to be here helping to dart off to London.” He takes your hand and kisses it. “I’d never do that.”

“I’m really happy you’re taking so much time off. I appreciate it a lot.”

“And then when I go back I’m only doing half days until you go back to work.”

“Jessica won’t be able to go to daycare until she’s six months, so she’ll need to be with you.”

“That should work fine. Can you believe that Jack only has one more year of daycare until he’s at preschool? Time’s flying.”

“I know.” You sigh. “We should probably start looking at places we want to send him. Sometimes you almost have to book your spot a year in advance.”

“I wish the university had a preschool, we’ve been spoiled.”

“I’m gonna start asking around to see where other people have sent their kids. I don’t want pick up and drop off to be annoying.”

“Well, shouldn’t we look around this area? It would be better for him to meet more of the Milton kids that he’d actually end up going to school with.”

“Good point. I’ll talk to Sarah, she probably knows what preschools are good.” You look at your hands and see they’re getting pruney. “Could you hand me my towel? Think it’s time I get out.”

Harry stands up and hands you your towel. You stand and quickly cover yourself with it.

“You know, a few scars don’t scare me.”

You give him annoyed look as you step out of the tub.

“It’s not about you though. It’s about how I barely recognize my body half the time when I look into the mirror. It was easier this time around since I knew what to expect…but…still.”

You throw on a bed shirt and some shorts, hang up your towel, and crawl into bed. Harry gets in only wearing his boxers.

“I have liked just pumping instead of breastfeeding. I’m way less sore since I don’t have a little mouth nibbling on me.”

“Do you miss the bonding at all?”

“Nah, I mean, I still rub my nipple on her face to help with the acne like I did with Jack.” You giggle and roll on your side to face him. He faces you and puts his hand on your back to rub it up and down.

“I know it’s not about what I think, but you have to know I think you look incredible.”

“You also thought the same when I was as big as a house nine months pregnant.”

“I did! You were glowing, babe. You still are.” He leans in to kiss you, and gently slots a leg between yours to get comfortable.

“I haven’t been cleared by the doctor yet. It hasn’t quite been six weeks.”

“I’m not doing anything, just getting cozy. Just wanna snuggle you.” He pulls you in closer to his chest. “You have an appointment next week, right?”

“Mhm, on Wednesday. And then I’ll probably go back a month or so later for the IUD. I’m just not ready for another invasive procedure just yet.”

“We can just use condoms if you don’t feel like having it put back in.”

“But you hate using them…”

“I know, but if it makes it easier for you, I don’t mind.”

“I love you.” You snuggle into his chest and sigh.

“I love you too.”

The day of Jack’s party, you pulled out all the stops. It was dinosaur themed because he was very into dinosaurs right now. You put up decorations all throughout the house and in the back yard. The pool was ready to use as well. Harry made everyone a nice big breakfast, and once it was done you both creeped into Jack’s room to wake him up. You both sit on the edge of the bed while Gemma takes her phone out to film everything. You all had gone out the night before to eat, it was nice for Jack to be so excited about his Grammy and Auntie.

“Wake up, baby.” You coo as you stroke his cheek.

“Hm.” He mumbles.

“It’s your birthday, darling.” Harry says.

Jack shoots up in his bed and look at the two of you with a big smile on his face.

“I’m three?!”

“You’re three!” You both say at the same time and tackle him with hugs and kisses. His giggles fill the room and it makes you both so incredibly happy.

“Come on, I got you a new bathing suit.” You tell him and show him the new trunks that had dinosaurs on them.

“Oh, wow!” He gazes at them.

“Gotta go potty first though, son.” Harry picks him up and brings him to the hall bath.

You go into Jessica’s room where Anne was sitting with her in the big comfy chair.

“She’s absolutely precious.”

“She really is.”

“Harry made a nice breakfast, mum, let’s head downstairs.” Gemma says. “He’s just getting Jack washed up for the day.”

You all enjoy the breakfast Harry made. There was fresh fruit, pancakes, vegan bacon, and muffins. Something for everyone.

“When’s my party, Mumma?”

“In a few hours. Mimi and Grandpa are coming, and so are your other aunties and uncles. Some friends are coming too.” You smile as his face lights up. You had invited his best friend, Ryan, and his mother Lisa. “And your cousins of course. Michael and Melissa are very excited to see you.”

“Melissa’s party was fun.”

“You remember it, baby?” Anne asks.

“Mhm, we painted.” He points to the paper with splattered paint on the fridge. “It’s Buster.”

“So it is!” She beams. “It’s nice he has a cousin so close in age.”

“I know, they’ll be great friends I think. And Michael loves being the older cousin. I can’t believe my little man is six! He’s going to into the first grade in the fall.” You shake your head.

“He’ll be over here babysitting before we know it.” Harry chuckles.

“God, don’t even say that. You know my brother lets him text me sometimes. He sends me these funny videos of him dancing or just saying hi.”

“Clearly you’re his favorite.” Gemma says. “So, Jack, how do you like being a big brother so far?”

“It’s okay.” He shrugs.

“He think she’s loud and boring.” Harry says.

“Daddy!” He whines.

“Sorry, was that supposed to stay between the two of us?” He laughs.

“You think she’s boring?” You can’t help but laugh too. You look down at the baby in your arms. “Well, I suppose she is, isn’t she?”

“She just sleeps. She can’t even play.” Jack says.

“But she’ll be able to when she gets a little older. And then you can show her how to play nice with all your toys.” You explain. “Won’t that be nice?”

“How come you had a girl and not a boy, Mumma?”

You and Harry look at each other, then to Anne and Gemma who were cracking up, and then back to Jack.

“Well, buddy, Mummy’s and Daddy’s don’t get to decide.” Harry says.

“Why not?”

“It’s just how it works.” You say. “Are you sad you don’t have a little brother?”

“No, I like having a sister.” He gets up out of his seat and crawls up on you and into your lap. “She’s pretty, just boring.” He gives his sister a kiss on the nose and everyone at the table awes.

Your yard was full of people. Plenty of adults keeping their eyes on the kids in the pool. Jack was having a wonderful birthday. It was the first time your extended family got to meet Jessica as well. You were happy to pass her around. Anne and Gemma were big helps in keeping the food outside stocked up.

Harry tells you to sit down with Jack at the table as he comes out with the large cake. Jack blows out the candles when everyone is done singing. It was very cute. Harry cuts the cake for everyone, while you help Jack open up his various presents.

“What do we say?” You say to your son.

“Thank you everyone!”

Jack gets up and gives hugs to his family.

“I can’t believe how big he is.” Rachel says to you as she digs into her cake.

“I know! Too big if you ask me. Wouldn’t mind if he stayed like this.”

“Oh, but it’s fun to watch them grow.” Sarah says. “I love when my students come back to visit me.”

“Mumma, come swim!” Jack says to you.

“I can’t yet, honey. Why don’t you find Uncle Niall, he’ll swim with you.”

“He’s with Daddy.” He points over to Harry and Niall who were deep in conversation.

“Alright.” You squint over at the pool and see Kyle swimming with Michael. “Uncle Kyle’s in the pool with Cousin Michael, you can go in with them.”

“Okay!” He runs off.

“No jumping!” You shake your head.

“I’m glad you guys got one of your own, but you’re still welcome to come over once my school year is over.”

“Thanks, I’m sure we’ll take you up on that. He loves when Harry jumps off the diving board with him.”

“How have you been feeling?” Rachel asks. “Does it take longer to recover after a c-section.”

“Yes and no. I was in the hospital longer. I mean, it’s a major surgery. My scars are healing up nicely though. It’s just been six weeks, I have an appointment with Dr. Johnson on Wednesday. I’m hoping she’ll be able to clear me. I’m in some major need of loving with my husband.”

“I bet.” Sarah giggles. “Niall said he’ staying home the entire month of June with you?”

“Yeah, he said he wanted to be home to help more. He’s the best. He’s going to do half days after that, and then when school starts he’ll take Jessica to work with him until she can go to daycare.”

“You’re going right back in the fall?” Rachel asks.

“Yup, it’s fine though.” You shrug. “I was sort of spoiled last time. I’ve got the hang of things now.”

“Auntie Y/N.” Michael says coming up to you. “Are there any more juice boxes. There’s none in the cooler.”

“Oh! Sure, give me one second I’ll bring some out, my love.”

“Thank you.”

“Excuse me.” You say to the girls and go inside. Your phone had been sitting on the kitchen counter charging. You check and see that Detective Ruiz had called. “Shit.” You swipe your phone to call her back. “Hi Detective, I’m sorry I missed your call…my son’s having a birthday party.”

“No problem. I just wanted to let you know we got the lab results back.”

“Already?”

“We expedited things. His DNA was on there.” You take a deep breath as she continues to speak. “Thank you for bringing that in, it really helps with the case.”

“What are the next steps?”

“We may need you to come in and testify once the case is brought to court.”

“Will I need a lawyer?”

“You’ll want one, yes, just to help you. We’re hoping to get this moving along quickly. The other women have also agreed to testify. We have a strong case against him.”

“So…he would be there…in the courtroom?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“I know that it won’t be an easy thing to do.”

“I said I wanted to help the best that I can, and that’s what I intend to do.”

#harry styles #my everything #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #pls dont come for me if the investigation stuff isnt accurate #i only know what i know from shows like svu and csi sooooo #and i know those shows are incredibly inaccturate #hope you like!#pls tag if you reblog

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nitewrighter · 3 years

Note

Hiya mun, sorry to ask for one, but could you please write a short ficlet of either any of the ow cast or your ow fankids spending time with their pets, if they have any?

I need to write more Spiderbyte Parent Content. And of course I should write more Smol Marti content.

Also Camille Saint-Saen’s “Aquarium” lives in my mind rent free.

-----

It was the sixth night in two weeks that Marti’s gasping had woken them up. Widowmaker had learned to tune her ears to Marti, and despite how quiet she was in daylight hours, Widowmaker had become aware of the small girl’s shuffling around the house. She felt Marti’s large, deep brown eyes on her, peeking out from around walls and doorways. Marti talked to Sombra in Spanish, but had shrunken back when McCree tried to speak to her, clutching close to Sombra’s legs. At six years old, the top of Marti’s head came up to about Sombra’s hip, but Widowmaker had to listen for her so she didn’t trip over her. Marti had spent the first week in their apartment curled up on a blow-up mattress in Sombra’s study--a space that was more or less rendered walk-in-closet size by Sombra’s multiple monitors and servers---while Symmetra and Torbjorn took out a wall of their apartment to expand into a new room for her. She slept in the pink glow of Sombra’s monitors as she worked, to the faint tapping of keyboards and clicking of a mouse and the warbling of screens projected by Sombra’s own augmentations. Widowmaker wanted to tell Marti how much she understood her, how much she understood the instinct to make yourself smaller, how much comfort lied simply in being in Sombra’s presence as she delved her digital rabbit holes.... but Marti was still wary with her, still distant. It was Sombra who had found Marti that bloody night. Sombra who held her hand and walked her to safety. Sombra who held her on the dropship ride back to Gibraltar, stroking her fingers over Marti’s black hair. Sombra who spoke gentle comforting words to her that she, as a crisis orphan, never got the chance to hear herself. Sombra the guardian. Sombra the godmother.

Widowmaker and Sombra had painted Marti’s room together, a pale orchid pink (Sombra had managed to get Marti to pick out the color swatch) and they had sat on the floor together, puzzling over the parts of a twin-sized captain’s bed and a small desk. Once furniture was all assembled and the scent of drying paint faded enough, Marti moved in, hesitantly, skeptically brushing her hand over the quilted magenta Official Meka bunny-printed comforter and pillowcase that D.Va had donated. Sombra tried to decorate the room with little mementos of Dorado--One wall had a short banner of purple papel picado etched out with floral, star, and sun designs, as well as one in the center of the banner that had Marti’s own name, ‘MARTINA’ in ornate letters hanging over Marti’s bed. The opposite wall had a mulberry-colored macrame wall hanging that Sombra had gotten in a Dorado marketplace. There was a small framed photo of Marti and Soledad on the bookshelf headboard of Marti’s bed. Overall, the room was a cozier, more toned-down adaptation of the hot-pink glitter-addled ‘princess’ rooms that Sombra and Widowmaker never had in their own childhoods--Sombra by virtue of being crammed into an orphanage, and Widowmaker by virtue of her own parents’ brutally avant-garde tastes. Finally, Marti sat on the bed, looking up between Sombra and Widowmaker.

“...Is it okay?” Sombra had asked.

Marti gave a short polite nod and Sombra smiled. Marti gently nudged Sombra’s arm, prompting Sombra to bend down so Marti could whisper in her ear. After a beat Sombra huffed, smiled, brushed a thumb over Marti’s cheek and said, “Para esto estamos,” softly before drawing herself back up to her height. “She said thank you,” Sombra said to Widowmaker.

“I gathered,” Widowmaker said, but felt the distance in the politeness.

And now Marti was waking them up again with her gasps--high pitched sounds with how small she was, creaking with sobs that were suppressed by hyperventilation. Pretty and brittle like thin tree branches whipping in an autumn wind.

Sombra broke out from Widowmaker’s arms, stumbling, clumsy with sleepiness, and quickly paced into Marti’s room. Widowmaker propped up some pillows in their bed and sat up, resting her bare forearms on her sheet-covered knees as she waited. In the other room, Sombra was talking low and quick in Spanish to Marti, and Widowmaker made out the sound of Sombra demonstratively breathing slow and deep, trying to get Marti to sync her own breaths to her. Those high pitched breaths slowed. Widowmaker pressed her fingertips into the skin of her arm, her lean dancer’s muscles not yielding against her own grip. I should be in there, she thought, I should be helping her. One more person who lost everything to Talon. One more person who lost everything to a fight that had nothing to do with her. But I’m a stranger.

----

“...there has to be more we can do,” Widowmaker said the next morning as she gently eased a fried egg onto a slice of fresh baked baguette smeared with avocado.

“She’s got her first vid conference with that doctor that Ziegler looked up for us next Wednesday,” said Sombra, flicking through a few pink screens at the table, sipping her coffee, “I checked her out. It’s solid.”

“Mm,” Widowmaker set a plate in front of Sombra.

“And I think we know better than anybody, stuff like this isn’t cut and dry,” said Sombra, biting into the toast and pulling away quickly to avoid getting egg yolk on her chin as she , “She’s going to be dealing with this for a long time.”

Widowmaker was silent, easing her own fried egg onto her own avocado-smeared baguette slice. She listened to the slight warbles of Sombra’s screens as she cracked pepper over the sunny yellow yolk, then brought her chin up with some resolve. “So we make new memories,” she said.

“Mm?” Sombra glanced up from her screens.

“For me, it was looking up Gérard’s photos, it was... rebuilding, but for her... she’s stuck in a strange place with this--this fear bouncing around in her and so little experience in the world. So we make new memories. We let her see that, even though this thing happened to her, that this world is... is... bright. And... and good.” The words felt a little alien in Widowmaker’s throat and her shoulders were bunched up as she set the plate aside. Widowmaker had spent so long in such a dark place that all the defenses and instincts she had built up in that darkness were completely discombobulated by her own desire to let Marti know safety and happiness. She felt Sombra’s eyes on her, bright and studying.

“So... a day out?” said Sombra, opening up another screen.

A shuffling of bare feet on linoleum came from down the hall and both Sombra and Widowmaker glanced up as Marti entered the kitchen and clambered up into a chair that was just a little too big for her, but she was a little too big for a booster seat.

“How do you like your eggs?” said Widowmaker looking over her shoulder at Marti, “Um...” she gave an uncertain glance at Sombra and then pivoted, pointing at the frying pan with her spatula. “Huevos?”

“Fritos?” Sombra said to Marti, gesturing with her thumb at Widowmaker before pointing at her own plate.

Marti nodded.

“Same thing for her,” said Sombra, looking at Widowmaker.

Widowmaker quickly sliced off another bit of baguette, smeared some avocado over it, and cracked salt, pepper and little squeeze of lemon juice over the avocado, then quickly fried the egg to golden yolk and lacy-browned-edges perfection. Sombra was talking to Marti in Spanish as Widowmaker worked but Widowmaker only made out about 75% of it. Something about Sombra’s computers and... Luz nocturna... night light?

Marti gave a furious, stiff-lipped shake of her head and craned over to whisper something with an unusual amount of forcefulness into Sombra’s ear. Sombra’s shoulders slumped and she said something conceding in Spanish. Sombra gave a “welp” glance over to Widowmaker and Widowmaker understood immediately. Marti didn’t get her hyperventilating nightmares back when she was sleeping in the glow of Sombra’s computers in the study, but she had refused Sombra’s suggestion of a night light. It was all Widowmaker could do to bring Marti’s plate over and take a seat at the table with her own breakfast.

Marti bit into her avocado toast sullenly, not making eye contact with either of them, though her eyes widened as she chewed and she dug into her food with a reassuring eagerness. Widowmaker smiled a little. I’m good at that, at least, she thought, then cleared her throat awkwardly. “I... was thinking... we could all have a day out. Do something fun.”

Marti looked up from her plate, then over at Sombra. Sombra half-translated and Marti seemed thoughtful.

“We could...” Widowmaker gave a flailing, ‘help me’ glance over at Sombra, “We could...um...”

Sombra quickly flicked a pink screen into existence and rapidly scrolled down. “Go to the aquarium!” she blurted out.

“Yes,” Widowmaker latched onto that, “The aquarium.”

“Aquarium?” Marti repeated the word, the latin roots providing a stumbling middle ground for her.

“It’s... educational!” Sombra eked out the words hesitantly and gave a glance to Widowmaker. She smiled at Marti, “I think you should be able to see there’s more to Gibraltar than the watchpoint.”

Marti gave a bewildered glance between them. At that point there was a strange rapport that arced between the three of them, sharp and swift like lightning, all of them fumbling in the dark trying to figure out what it was that families did. Happy families. They had to do things, didn’t they? And aquariums existed, didn’t they? Sombra was looking at her screens. There were children in the promotional pictures--this was a thing kids did, right? Marti gave a hesitant nod and Sombra gave a grin to Widowmaker.

----

“Gibraltar’s artificial reef started as an initiative in 1973, sinking ships in the mediterranean sea to give wildlife structures to colonize and breed in,” a primly dressed tour guide was standing in front of a massive tank that featured fake pier beams and what appeared to be the ragged front half of a fishing boat covered in coral, barnacles, and seaweed. Some skates and fish lazily drifted about the tank, and a few finicky crabs were crawling around the wreck and the rocks. “Overwatch’s ‘Ecowatch’ division’s efforts to mitigate the environmental impacts of the Omnic Crisis, as well as new sunken wreckage from the conflict itself, resulted in an unprecedented explosion of biodiverse marine life!”

Marti was swaying a little where she held Sombra’s hand, not really listening to a tour guide whose words she only understood a little bit. Widowmaker gave an uncertain glance to her own bluish nailbeds. She had gotten a lot of color back in her recovery, but she was still wary, for both hers and Sombra’s sake. Getting here had been easy enough, just Sombra ‘borrowing’ the Watchpoint’s crappy old truck (pretty much anyone who might object was off on a mission), and a short drive from there, and of course Sombra had hacked them tickets, but now Widowmaker became acutely aware of just how strange the situation was now that Marti was in their lives. In any other situation, civilian life would be a mask--her presence here would be merely idling time away before or after a mission, but now she was coming to terms with the fact that people were here and this was their lives, this was their normal lives, and now, though her own life was still far from normal, this was her life too. She and Sombra were both dressed to blend in, of course, Sombra parting her hair and wearing a sleeveless turtleneck to cover up her neural implants, and Widowmaker wearing large coral-framed glasses to distract from the yellowness of her own eyes. Marti stood out more than either of them in a magenta and white sundress and chunky black velcro sandals. Widowmaker smiled a little. The looseness of the sundress and the thickness of the sandals’ straps against her feet seemed to emphasize Marti’s small size, and Marti had doggedly wrangled her thick, wavy black hair into two uneven pigtails that swayed about her bare brown shoulders every time she turned her head. It lent a certain wildness to her appearance that Widowmaker couldn’t help but admire. At the core of all that timidity was a furious, stubborn survival instinct, and it simultaneously filled Widowmaker’s heart with love and compassion, and broke it, for all her desire to have Marti look to her like she looked to Sombra.

But Marti wasn’t looking at either of them, now, those big brown doe eyes were nearly black with blue-white highlights by the light of the aquarium tanks as she stared into a tank of moon jellies, transfixed by the drifting, alien forms. Widowmaker wondered if she was reading too far into Marti’s apparent fascination with the cnidarians’ utter indifference to each other. Marti was still hesitant to interact with the other kids on the watchpoint, which was fair, considering her shakily growing grasp on English and the fact that she was two years older than Rei and four years older than the twins. They were able to watch holo-programs together, at least, but actually playing was a bit awkward. But then Widowmaker’s train of thought was interrupted as Marti lead Sombra along again and Widowmaker trailed along with them. Marti’s silence seemed at home here, the conversations of the crowd only a low murmur and most people resigned to just stare at the fish in the different tanks as they drifted by. Marti made an audible gasping noise as they entered the tropical fish section, yanking Sombra along to point at the more brightly colored fish.

“...I like this,” Sombra said, as Marti squatted in front of a tank where several leafy sea dragons wove through a mass of seaweed and seagrass, “It’s so easy to forget sometimes, you know? That there’s a world outside the fight.”

“That there’s a world outside that ‘eye?’” Widowmaker glanced over at her and Sombra quickly tensed and looked around, scanning the crowd.

“Sorry--” Widowmaker started.

“No--it’s fine...” Sombra shook her head a little, her eyes fixing on Marti, “Now I have one more person it can target... as if there weren’t enough monsters in the dark already.”

The word ‘dark’ caught Widowmaker. “What you were saying to her earlier... she doesn’t want a night light?”

“She said they’re for babies,” Sombra huffed, putting her hands on her hips, “But if her own stubbornness is just going to keep her hyperventilating like that...”

“It’s awfully dark in here, non?” Widowmaker mused.

“Well, yeah, ‘flash photography bothers the fish’ and all, but most of the light comes from the tanks anyway---” Sombra started and then caught herself and then looked at Widowmaker, “...what web are you spinning now?” she said, a smile pulling at her lips, but Widowmaker just smiled in turn.

The afternoon trailed on in that strange suspension of time one only gets in aquariums, the tension between wanting to see everything, yet being able to stare into the blue forever and the minutes slipping by like so many bluefin tuna. Marti served as the major marker of how much time was passing, going from brisk little jogs, to a more steady pace matching Widow and Sombra’s, to tiredly trailing a couple of steps behind them. . They rested on a bench against the acrylic glass walls of the aquarium’s shark tunnel, watching as rays and a massive angelshark drifted overhead, the ribbons of water-refracted light shimmering across the floor. Marti first leaned against the glass, staring up between Sombra and widowmaker, then slowly, ever so slowly, thick lashes drooped over her eyes and her head nodded down slightly. The glass of the tunnel squeaked under the bare skin of her shoulders as she drifted to the side, her cheek smooshing against Widowmaker’s shoulder as her weight slumped against her.

Widowmaker froze at the contact, glanced down at Marti with wide eyes, then her eyes flicked over to Sombra, whose face scrunched up with a stifled giggle. Widowmaker just gently brushed a stray strand of hair from Marti’s face. It wouldn’t be cut and dry--it wasn’t for her, and it wouldn’t be for Marti... but she could be here. She and Sombra would both be here.

-----

“So...? What do you think?” said Sombra as Marti’s eyes flicked between different fish tanks at the pet store. A few days had passed since the aquarium.

“Are you sure?” Marti looked over her shoulder at both Sombra and Widow, her words were halting, her accent thick in her consonants, but she was getting more confident, she wasn’t grabbing Sombra to whisper in her ear as often.

“It’s a big responsibility, but we can all help,” said Widowmaker, bending down to Marti’s level, “We’ll read all the books, and work together to make sure it’s very happy with us.”

Marti pressed her lips together tight and gave a short little nod with a very serious, “Hm!” and Widowmaker smiled at her determination.

“So... which one?” said Sombra, as Marti turned back towards the fish tanks.

Marti surveyed each of the tanks very seriously, her brow furrowed. Several minutes of dead silence passed before Marti pointed to one nearly-black betta with purple-blue undertones and said, “I like this one.”

Both Widowmaker and Sombra stooped down next to Marty to look into the tank. The betta flared its fins at all three of their faces looking through the glass and Widowmaker softly snorted through her nostrils.

“Why this one?” said Sombra.

“He’s pretty, and um--a little scary,” said Marti.

“Scary?” said Widowmaker.

“He’s a guard fish,” Marti said very firmly.

“Oh, a guard fish, of course,” said Widowmaker.

-----

Another two weeks had passed when Sombra stirred in Widowmaker’s arms in the middle of the night and she slipped out of bed.

“Sombra?” Widowmaker sat up in bed.

“I’ll just be right back,” Sombra whispered.

Curious, Widowmaker slid out of bed after her and trailed behind her down the hall. Sombra was at the frame of Marti’s door, peering in. Marti’s breaths were steady and barely audible amid the sound of a fish tank filter. Sometimes they could hear Marti talking to the fish, which she named Nochito,

Nochito stood stark against the bright green plants in his tank on Marti’s desk. The faint blue-green glow of the fish tank itself made the pink of the room look more purple in the night.

“...I keep waking up thinking she might...” Sombra trailed off and Widowmaker gently draped an arm around her shoulder.

“We’ll be here if it happens,” said Widowmaker, gently kissing Sombra on the corner of her jaw.

“Yeah...” Sombra said, putting her hand over Widowmaker’s, “Yeah, we will, won’t we?”

They watched Marti sleep for another few minutes, her black hair splashed across her pillow in dark whorls. Sombra’s eyes flicked back to the faint light of the fish tank.

“Gotta say, guard fish is way cooler than night light,” said Sombra with a wry grin at Widowmaker.

“It suits her,” Widowmaker said with a gentle smile.

“She’s a fighter, too,” said Sombra.

#spiderbyte #spiderbyte kid

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binniedeactivated · 4 years

Text

saint. || soobin🌪(5)

🖤┊𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱 . ೄྀ࿐ 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: 𝖘𝖒𝖚𝖙/𝖆𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙; 1847

you sat at your desk feeling sleepier than ever. It was a late night but studying for your quiz wasn’t optional. If you had any low grades your parents would be more than disappointed in you. your mother walks in though, and watches you doze off every five minutes trying to focus on a page.

“hey get some rest. you need it. you’ve studied enough in your study group right?”.

barely awake you nod your head and stare at her.

“okay you should sleep”. you nod your head once more and climb in your bed grateful to finally feel your pillow. once your head touched it you felt asleep almost instantly. your mother stares at you in awe, she was happy that she was lucky enough to have such an obedient daughter.

well at least to her knowledge.

while the day was breaking soobin was replying to text messages from his friends. They all happened to be in one big group chat that was filled with nothing but gossip. “are you at her house yet?”. one of his friends had asked, to which soobin replied, “yeah i’m in her driveway”. the chat was spammed with laughing emojis until one of his friends texted, “I’m happy you’re doing this for us soobin, she’d never kiss our ass like that”. soobin quickly sends eye rolling emojis. “but on the brightside, at least we’re all getting something out of it”. one of his friends texts. before he could type his next message though Mia opens her front door and spots soobin’s car. Soobin waves in a friendly manner. She smiles, wearing the tightest shorts she could possibly find. Her long dirty blonde hair swayed in the wind until she finally sat in the passenger seat of soobin’s car.

“Hey baby”. she cooed kissing him on his cheek. Soobin looked at her and cocked up an eyebrow. “so? you wanted me to come over?”. she crosses her legs and traces her finger on soobin’s chest. “you know, it’s my parents’ date night and I was kind of thinking maybe we can..”. she trails her finger down soobin’s chest and stops at his crotch. she winks.

“couldn’t wait until tomorrow huh?”. soobin grins. she shakes her head no like a pouty baby before she unzips his pants. soobin pushes down the lever and pushes the chair back, making room for her to go underneath him. And that she did. She climbed over and sat on the car floor underneath the steering wheel. She pulled down his boxer briefs and let his dick spring free. She smirks before she pushes the head of it into her mouth, making soobin curse.

the boys texted soobin at the perfect time to say, “did she suck your dick yet?”, with thousands of laughing emojis. with Mia fixing her shorts and trying to clean her hair from cum whilst she walked to the door, soobin snarkily replied, “hell yeah”. and the group chat went into an uproar once again.

•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧.˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. ˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩.

you didn’t really want to go after all the things that happened. but you had to. it was a school requirement. you went and sat in the confessional box. soobin was watching you from the pews with the dumbest grin on his face. they were all supposed to be praying but of course soobin had to take the extra mile and let his eyes follow you.

“good afternoon”. he called out.

“good afternoon father benjamin”.

“Is there anything you’d like to confess?”.

you sigh. welp. this was the moment soobin was waiting for at least.

“I don’t know if it’s because i’m a teenager. but i’ve become...really dirty recently and I just hope i can be forgiven for it”. father benjamin chuckles.

“of course you can be forgiven. it’s completely normal for a teenager to have these kinds of feelings at this age”.

“really?”. you ask.

“of course, but that doesn’t necessarily make it the right thing to do”.

you frown and palm your face.

“I know. I’m probably on my way to hell aren’t I?”. father benjamin laughs again.

“of course not. you can always be forgiven by your father”.

well that’s a relief.

“but you must remember to not take advantage of forgiveness. taking it for granted can be very dangerous”.

“I understand. thank you father benjamin”.

“no thank you, my saint. enjoy your day”. he replies. you get up and allow one of the sisters to lead you back to your row for prayer. soobin just looks at you with that same grin again and you wanted to punch him.

“shut up soobin”.

“were you forgiven for being a bad girl?”.

“were you given detention for not praying and focusing on me?”.

“nope”.

you roll your eyes pressing your hands together to pray. soobin could be so annoying sometimes. but he was cute so it was always hard to stay mad at him. how can you possibly stay mad when his smile and dimples brightens the whole room? it was odd that he had such an angel face yet he was such a jerk at the same time.

“i think she likes soobin”. Olivia, one of Mia’s best friends whispers to Mia. Olivia was pretty also. Her skin was a cocoa brown complexion and she too also had these almond shaped big brown eyes and a bright white smile to die for. Her hair was always worn big and curly. She was beautiful but she was also prissy and arrogant too.

mia looks over at the two whispering to each other and scoffs.

“she could never make soobin feel the way I make him feel. what does she know anyway? she probably never got laid in her precious religious life”.

“that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t want soobin to be the first person to have sex with her”.

mia rolls her eyes.

“soobin would never fuck anything that looks like that”.

“and how are you so sure? he’s the best looking guy in the whole school. and guys would have sex with anything and anyone”.

mia huffs her breath glancing over at them once more.

“so what are you trying to say?”.

“i’m trying to say that mrs. saint over there is trying to lose her virginity to your man”.

not once has mia ever worried about competition. but once she saw soobin laughing and smiling with you, she was ready for every single match.

“I don’t know why I’m talking to you anyways. this is the same person that is dating someone he doesn’t like”.

soobin chuckles again.

“like i said before, we don’t date”.

“keep believing that soobin. there is no one on earth that can tell the whole school that you and mia aren’t a match made in heaven”.

“if that’s the case then maybe I need to pray a little more because their matching skills isn’t following up. that isn’t the type of matching i want”.

you laugh at his stupidity.

“then what do you want, choi soobin?”.

soobin utilized this moment of silence to give you that glare that always makes the world revolve around the both of you. you swore each time he did it it became more intense than the last. he was speaking to you through his eyes and it made your cheeks bloom red. you wanted to tell him that staring at you couldn’t fill in his blanks but that would be a lie. you felt something whenever he did it.

you rushed to finish your history exam before finally slipping it in the slot when you were finished. you’d been studying all night for it and you hoped you had just enough information stored in your head to pass. You quickly grabbed your bag and stuffed your notebook in it, getting prepared for dismissal. mia watches you and follow slowly after. pretending as if she were turning in her own paper she grabs yours and crinkles it before stuffing it in the garbage. Olivia shook her head and disbelief with a quirky smile. almost as if to say, ‘I can’t believe you just did that’.

but mia didn’t care of course, especially when she was going on a date with soobin she felt like she was at the top of the world now. he picked her up at the time she suggested wearing nothing fancy at all. just a plain t shirt, some jeans and sneakers. in stark contrast with mia who looked as if she were going to attend the grammys. she allows the wind to trickle through her blonde bouncy beach curls while she sits at the table across from soobin. “do you remember the plan?”. the group chat texts. soobin quickly texts, “yes” before shutting off his phone knowing mia could be a bit nosey sometimes.

“the girls are texting me. wait until they find out im on a date with you”. mia jeered across the table from soobin.

“you told them?”. he asked. Mia was really annoying.

“yeah why not? we’re like the most popular people in the whole school”.

“so what. that doesn’t mean you tell the whole school that we’re a thing”.

“are we not?”. Mia asks, keeping the plan in mind soobin freezes and catches himself.

“well, at least not yet. I don’t think we should officialize it right now”. mia rolls her eyes.

“well fine then”. and soobin nods, letting her eat her meal until they were ready to go.

“my parents are probably going to come back in town early”, soobin lied.

“so I want to take you to a hotel tonight”. mia’s eyes lit up.

“really?”.

“yeah why not?”. soobin answers, pulling into the hotel parking lot. “here”. he texts to the guys. “room 517″. they replied. He took mia into the hotel lobby and told the administrator the room number that had been already paid for. she gifts him another key to the room. he bows and says thank you while going up.

meanwhile mia is taking as much pictures as possible. she was feeling herself before but boy, was she feeling herself now. A night out with the cutest guy in school, fancy restaurants, and a fancy hotel? you couldn’t tell her she wasn’t practically a celebrity. soobin pushes the key card in it’s designated slot and opens the door to a suite. Mia squeals and runs around it looking at everything. she takes her jacket off and makes herself at home. It took little to no time for the boys to come down the steps that lead to the upstairs.

“oh my god i can’t believe you bough--”. mia cuts herself off at the sight of not only soobin but his friends. They were all smirking like idiots and soobin waves. She was beyond confused as to what was going on.

“have fun mia. I know you’re a fucking slut so you’ll probably enjoy this”. and with that soobin slipped them the key card and left with a closing door.

“don’t go so hard on her guys😂”.

soobin texts before he drives off.

#choi soobin au #choi soobin #txt #txt au #choi beomgyu #choi yeonjun #kpop #kpop au

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #442

“the more you suffer, the more it shows you really care, right?”

Would you ever sell your soul? No. Do you believe that something is going to happen in 2012? Welp, clearly not. I never believed it. Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon? No, but I'd love to! When was the last time you slept in someone else’s bed? Uhhh not since I visited Sara, I think. Do you like your music loud or at a reasonable level? Loud, for sure. Louder than I should listen to. Did the last person you kiss have a tattoo? No. What’s the last song you heard? "The Bird and the Worm" by The Used. Has anyone told you they missed you lately? No. What are you most likely to do when you’re exhausted; take a nap, drink some coffee, or go for a run to get yourself pumped up again? Naps definitely win. What are you most likely to pick if you got to choose your topic on a research paper; drug abuse, mental illness, or the death penalty? Mental illness, for sure. What is your favorite month of the year and why? October, bc aesthetic. What’s your least favorite animal? Probably wasps. They're mean fuckers that kill bees. What was your class song when you graduated? Some super shitty country song. Have you ever had to spend the night outside (not camping)? No. What`s the scariest living animal that you`ve petted? A tarantula, I'd say. She was a sweet rose hair that I literally did pet, which you absolutely should not do to tarantulas, but I knew nothing about them at the time. The urticating hairs on their abdomens cause serious itching, and I tell ya, that sure happened. So did you play old school Nintendo or Atari or Sega? If so which one? We had an old Atari for a long time. When/where did you meet your first love? In the hallway, during my sophomore year of high school. Is there anyone you dislike, that you have to see/speak to regularly? Hm, what qualifies as "regularly," really? I don't like my sister's husband, who I see semi-regularly, but I don't really talk to him. Does your family eat any unique foods for Thanksgiving that aren’t the norm? If so, what are they? Nah, not that I can think of. If you eat oatmeal, do you add water or milk to it? What is your favorite flavor? Milk; I don't like it with water. I only eat the apples and cinnamon kind. Was the last video you watched on YouTube a music video? If not, what was it of? It's a let's play. Have you ever been brave enough to cut your hair in a very different way? If you have, did you regret your decision after? Yes, and I still love it. What was the last book you had to read for school? Did you enjoy it, or were you just trying to get through? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. I loved it. Has anyone you know personally ever won the lottery? If so, how much did they win? Would/have you ever play(ed) the lottery? No to both questions. I have a very addictive personality, so I don't really mess with dangerous things that might tempt that behavior. What band/celebrity/etc. do you know the most information about? Who would you like to learn more about? Markiplier, ha ha. As for who I'd like to know more about... hm. Have your friends met the last person you kissed? Girt has. Who has made the biggest difference in your life? Jason. You get a text from someone saying that they want to hang out - who would you most like it to be from? Also Jason. -_- What is the name on your birth certificate (feel free to withhold your last name for privacy reasons)? Brittany Marie is all you need to know. Even if shopping isn’t your favorite... every girl has a favorite store. What’s yours? My favorite physical store is Hot Topic, but my favorite store overall is Rebel's Market, which I'm pretty sure is just an online source. Which type of undies do you wear most: Thongs, bikini/briefs, bootyshorts, or granny panties? Don't you dare laugh, I prefer "granny panties" lmfao. They're what I'm comfortable in, okay. How many nail polishes do you have, if you were to take a guess? *I* have none. Idk about Mom, but I know not a lot. Are you on birth control? Do you use condoms? I use birth control to regulate my period and ease cramps. If I was sexually active though, both would be musts for me. When did you start your period? How did you react? Who did you tell first? When I got home from school sometime in middle school. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I was EXTREMELY upset. Like, I cried, because I didn't feel like a kid anymore. My mom was the first to know. Have you ever had sex while on your period? If so, would you ever do it again? NO NO NO NO THAT SOUNDS SO GROSS LKASDFJ;AJW;LKERJA;WEJLRKQWLKE;JR. Which way do you swing (boys, girls, or both)? I'm bi. Or pan. I really don't know. Tell me ALL about your longest/most serious relationship. Are you still in that relationship? How about I don't, because doing that I'm sure will send me in a PTSD spiral. No, we're no longer together. Who is your ALL TIME best friend (don’t count your boyfriend, either, silly!)? Sara. I don't think I've been as close with any other best friend. Which one of your friends has the best singing voice? SARAAAAAAAAAAA. What shade are you in foundation or concealer? I don't have a clue. I don't wear either. Have you ever showered with someone? Boy or girl? Were you completely naked? "Were you completely naked." No, I shower with underwear on. I've showered with my little sister as well as my best friend as a kid. I've never shared a shower as an adult and don't want to. Do you think you’re good enough for the person you like? No. Are you a cuddler or no? If I'm really into you, YUP. And if it's not hot. Wouldn’t it be kinda annoying to have to share a bed every night? No. I miss it sometimes. Have you ever walked on a beach at night? Yes. It's beautiful. Could you go the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? Pretty easily, yeah. Would you marry someone you didn’t love if you were paid 10 thousand dollars? No. I just wouldn't be able to stomach doing that. I'm solely marrying for love. Have you had sex today? I haven't in many years. Do you still care about your last ex? Very very much! Do you own more then one bathing suit? Nope. Is there any alcohol in the fridge? Yeah, but none I like. Who have you recently made up with after fighting? Nobody. Who do you WANT to make up with? Jason. Megan. Do you get scared easily? Hm. It really depends on the situation. Have you seen UP? Never the full movie, actually. I need to. How many coats of mascara do you use? I use it so rarely that I barely know. Two, maybe? What’s your favorite bracelet? The one Sara gave me. I used to always wear it, but it's worn down with time and is too loose for me now, so it's just with my jewelry. What color hair does your mom have? It's naturally gray now, but she dyes it black. Favorite song to listen to when you are mad? "Headache" by Motionless In White does it. What restaurant would you want to work at? NONE. I ain't working with hungry people. I don't want to work with people - period. When people ask “how are you?” do you say “good” even if you aren’t? Depends on who's asking. If it's a stranger or someone I barely know, odds are I'm just going to reply with "fine" or something like that. Were you honestly a good kid? Yes. Is anything wrong with your eyes? I have to wear glasses, so. Have you kissed or hugged anyone today? No. What is your mom’s and dad’s favorite TV show? I don't really know for either. Mom watches loads of shows, and I don't live with Dad, so. I know he really likes The Big Bang Theory, though, which Mom also loves. Have you ever suspected your mom or dad of having an affair? No, but ~supposedly~, Dad did with his now-wife. I don't know what the fuck is true between my parents, though. Do you think buying second hand clothes is gross? It depends on the type of clothing (ex., used underwear is a huge fucking no), as well as the state it's in. Does it gross you out when your parents kiss? They're divorced. That would be incredibly weird, uncomfortable, and impossible with how I know at least Mom feels towards Dad. Do you have a playlist made on YouTube? Yeah, multiple. Do you like dollar stores? I mean, sure? They have good deals occasionally and are a good option to stop for a quick snack or something. Mom doesn't actually *shop* in them, though. What’s the last thing you bought from one? I think a honeybun. Do you think it’s weird how babies are made? Well, yeah. Science can be crazy, though. Have you ever lost a friend over the opposite sex? No. Are you comfortable in a short skirt? I wouldn't be comfortable in ANY skirt. Do you and your family go on a vacation ever year? We essentially never do. Vacations cost money. We don't have money to spare. When you were going out with your last ex and you had the chance to date your celebrity crush, would you have left your bf/gf for them? No, because it's not like I know him personally, while I know her very deeply. Who was your most romantic moment with? Jason. Do you sweat easily? Like you wouldn't BELIEVE. A side effect of one (or even multiple) of my meds is hyperhidrosis, so I can sweat an ocean in two minutes, it seems. It's disgusting, and I am so self-conscious about it. What’s one memory you wish would just vanish? Just a specific moment with Jason that is particularly agonizing to recall. Are you in love with someone? No. Partying or watching a movie? Partying isn't my thing. I'd have more fun watching a movie with friends. What pisses you off the most? Child molesters/rapists, probably. Where do you want to be at a year from now? I just want a job by then, dude. I also hope I've lost a lot of weight. Do you like pickles? Only dill pickles. If you saw someone broken down on the side of the road, would you stop to help? Honestly, no. I don't trust people. What do you do with your plastic grocery bags after you unload your things? We put our plastic bags into one big bag for later use. Have you ever slept in a water bed? Yes. How often do you use Flickr? I don't. I only ever check my friend's for meerkat photos, ha ha. Share three nice memories you have of the person you fell hardest for. No, unless you want me to cry. Have you ever made any of your friends cry? Not deliberately of course, but yes. Do you look decent in your most recent photograph? God no, I look high. Out of all the guys you know, who would you trust to not cheat on you? Girt. I know he never would, especially because HE'S been cheated on. How do you plan on disciplining your children? NOT by physical means, I can tell you that much. If I actually had kids, I'd teach them through (hopefully) primarily deeply talking things out. If need be, there'd be time out, grounding, things like that. I do NOT support methods like spanking your kid, so that's a big no. If you could live in another country, would you? What country? Yes; Canada. If you could change your name, what would you change it to? Quinn, probably. What’s one health problem you wish you didn’t have? It's a tie between depression and anxiety. What is your cure for hiccups? NOTHING works for me. It's the worst. Did you ever do anything in class that annoyed other students? I mean, I don't think so. Have you used a Ouija board and had a freaky experience with it? I've never messed with one, and I don't want to. I don't know if I believe in their supernatural abilities or not, but I ain't fuckin around and finding out. Do you stick with a political party, or vote for who you like best? I pick based on their policies and morals, not necessarily their party. Do you know anyone who is an albino? No. Word search or crossword puzzle? Word searches. When you watch a game show, do you like to see people win or lose? Aw, who wants to see them lose? It's great to see people win and be so excited. Do you have a pair of fake redneck, vampire, etc. teeth? No. What is your favorite Pixar film? Finding Nemo. Do you get really mad when you lose a game? Not at all. I'm not very competitive, and games are about having fun. When was the last time you used a pay phone? I actually don't think I ever have. Who did you have your most amazing kiss with? Jason. Do you go to church every Sunday? I never go to church as I'm not religious. If you had to get famous for one of the following, which would you choose: music, acting, writing, modeling? Writing. What do you think of girls with huge boobs that don’t wear bras in public? Who the fuck cares. If they're comfortable and at least have a shirt on, let 'em. Most women have breasts, big whoop. Do you even like politics? God no. What’s it like at raves? Oh god, I'd never go. Have you ever had a dream in which you were making out, or more, with someone? lol yes

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''self esteem'' by the offspring

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playitaagain · 4 years

Text

meant to be a pogue | Mayward

Request: If you’re still taking prompts- Kook! JJ who falls in love with Pope the first time he every sees him. But Pogues aren’t really keen on kooks so queue jj tryin desperately to get popes attention and time any way he can

Warning: fighting, underage drinking, kook!JJ being awkward, mentions of child abuse

Author’s Note: Welp, this turned out longer than expected but I wanted to give a little background so this happened. The time jumps aren’t my favorite, but the story needed it.

JJ goes to impress some girl. It’s silly really. He doesn’t usually go for the smart ones, but she seems nice enough and he was up for the challenge. It was pretty well known that he was a player and normally the smart ones didn’t go for him either. They were too smart for that, but she’s shown a bit of interest so he figured he might as well go for it.

He honestly didn’t know they had a mathlete team. He normally wouldn’t be caught dead at some event like this, but he was trying to impress her. It was easy really. He went up before it all started, smirk on his lips and shot her a few compliments. She giggles and smiles and twirls her hair a bit and he knows he’ll be fine.

But then the meet starts.

JJ can’t take his eyes off him. This boy - Pope he learns as the meet goes on - answers almost all of the questions for the other team. Actually, he answers almost every question of the meet, basically wiping the floor with the competition.

JJ is impressed. He doesn’t know why. Pope is enchanting though. He rambles a bit with each answer, dragging the meet out a bit longer than it would normally last. He says everything in a tone that doesn’t make you feel stupid and JJ doesn’t even know how. The few questions his team, including the girl he was actually here for, answered made him feel stupid, like he should know these things. Pope didn’t make him feel like that. Pope actually said it in a way that made it easy to understand.

And okay. JJ has never looked at someone and instantly lost his breath or had his heart pound when he heard their voice. It was stupid really, like something described in a movie. It leaves him a bit confused, especially when the girl starts to talk to him after the meet, complaining about Pope in a condescending way that rubs JJ the wrong way.

“Just because he’s smarter than you doesn’t mean you can drag him like that.” JJ has never really had a filter, but his eyes widen at the words and the shock is mirrored on the girl’s face as well. She simply shakes her head and walks away. JJ doesn’t follow her.

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

JJ finds him at the annual memorial day kegger and he’s had a lot of time to think. It’s been nearly four weeks since he last saw Pope and he’s managed to work through some of his feelings. It was a bit confusing when he realized he was attracted to a guy for the first time, but he did a bit of research, figured some shit out and realized that maybe it wasn’t so bad. He could do this. He just had to be careful about the whole thing.

Pope is sitting by the fire with John B and Kie. The group is well known among the kooks, always causing trouble and stirring shit up. JJ usually stays out of it, but he knows Rafe and some of his goons have beat on the group a few times in the past. JJ is better known for beating on his fellow kooks rather than pogues.

“Hey,” JJ says, because he’s standing in front of him now and he doesn’t know how to flirt with a guy. He’s never flirted with the guy before. “You were really good at the mathlete meet a few weeks ago.” Does complementing work with guys too? Girls loved that kind of shit.

The other looks sceptical and JJ can tell John B is a bit on edge. It wasn’t really normal for kooks and pogues to mix even at parties and he figured it would raise some suspicion, but he hadn’t realized the other’s would be ready for a fight.

“Ah, yeah, thanks man,” Pope replies, frown pulling down his lips as he glances at Kie. JJ recognizes her from a few of his classes. She doesn’t really hang out with anyone at their school.

“I’m JJ,” he introduces. Why the hell was this so hard? He was totally screwing this up.

“Pope.” He takes a sip of his beer, nodding his head toward John B, “This is John B and Kie.”

“You’re in my math class, right?” JJ is trying to find something to talk about with them. He figures relating to Kie is probably the best bet at this point. She at least went to his school.

“Yeah, I think so. You don’t exactly show up to class though.” And that breaks the ice. The four of them are laughing as JJ finds himself sitting in front of them, trying to defend himself, but knowing it is fruitless to do so. He barely shows up to class.

He spends the rest of the kegger with the pogues.

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

JJ finds that he fits in better with the pogues than he ever did with the kooks. The pogues are hesitant to let him hang out, but Kie vouches for him on a few occasions and he finds himself at The Wreck more times in the next few weeks than his whole life.

The pogues are easy to hang out with. They surf, swim and go out on the boat all day when they aren’t working. These are all things the JJ prefers, reasons he doesn’t hang out with many kooks to begin with (because golf is fucking boring). It takes them a long time to actually invite him out on the boat, like it's some sacred pogue thing, but JJ says he’ll bring the beer and food and they finally crack a few weeks later.

It isn’t just easy being around the pogues, but it’s easy being around Pope. The other is funny, kind, and level headed. He is everything the pogues are known for not being. JJ is drawn to him. He always finds himself setting next to him when they grab a bit at The Wreck. He sits next to him on the boat, legs touching and shoulders bumping. He always swims a little closer to Pope, laughs with him more. He doesn’t know if anyone notices, hopes no one does.

He swears he gets a vibe from Pope. The other doesn’t move away, doesn’t say anything when JJ invades his personal space more often than necessary (and yeah, JJ is a little touch starved, but they don’t know that). There have definitely been a few times that Pope has looked at him a little longer than necessary, eyes glancing down at his lips.

But JJ could also just be making all of his up because he wanted it to be true.

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

JJ has never gotten along with Rafe and his goons. There was a short period in junior high when he hung around Topper a bit, but the other always wanted to go to golf lessons and JJ was never interested. After that, JJ was quick to establish himself as a loner kook.

It didn’t mean there weren’t times he didn’t hang out with the others. JJ was always looking for reasons to get out of his house and hanging out with kooks was an easy one even if it was often a lie. The problem was usually that the few times they hung out, it would end with JJ’s fist bloody and aching as he tried to calm himself down.

This is no different.

Rafe is standing in front of them, sneer on his face. JJ is used to his words. The off handed comments about his father always set JJ off and Rafe knows it. He does it on purpose.

But he isn’t talking to JJ today. His eyes are firmly set on John B, “Does someone miss their daddy?” The words are condescending and teasing and JJ sees the way John B’s jaw clenches, seeing his fists tighten and sees his hand punch Rafe in the face.

It immediately starts a brawl as the three on them go at it. The only problem is that JJ doesn’t want his friends involved. He’s dealt with this before, gotten out of many situations where it was three on one, but one look over at Pope, who has just gotten a fist in the jaw, and JJ knows he can’t get out of this so easily. He has to make sure Pope and JB are safe, make sure they’re okay because they’re his friends. He needs to protect his friends.

So he rips Topper off Pope, shoving the other back with as much force as he can manage. Rafe is quick to punch him in the jaw. It knocks him back a few steps, but JJ catches himself, using as much force as possible to connect his fist with Rafe’s face. The other stumbles and lands on the ground and JJ can basically see the steam coming out of his ears as they stare each other down. “You’re just like your old man.” JJ lunges.

He doesn’t know what happens next. He’s seeing red as he punches Rafe over and over again. It isn’t until Pope is behind him, pulling him off, telling him that that is enough before he finally takes in a deep breath, vision settling as he sees the crowd around them. Rafe is on the ground and his goons go to help him up.

“This isn’t over,” Rafe says, blood dripping from his mouth before he turns to walk away, Topper and Kelce each holding an arm.

“Fuck,” JJ groans, fingers moving to his hair as he starts to walk away from the scene. Pope doesn’t say anything, simply follows after him with a grounding hand on his shoulder.

———————————-

JJ shows up with bruises more often than he should. JJ always laughs it off, makes up random excuses that couldn’t be further from the truth. The pogues definitely don’t buy it, but they never push, they respect that JJ has some secrets he isn’t ready to reveal, will probably never reveal.

Until he can’t hide it anymore.

JJ has always liked the ocean. He remembers coming when he was younger, when his mother was still around. She used to hold his hand, teach him how to take deep breaths as the waves lap their feet. It was something he still did to this day.

But he can’t hold himself up today.

The darkness coats the sky, the moon shining off the water. The waves are rougher than usual tonight and JJ is basically soaked at this point, waves crashing against his chest, legs pulled up and arms wrapped around them in an attempt at comforting himself.

“JJ?”

The words startle him, and he is quick to wipe at the tears dripping down his cheeks, frowning when the salt water stings the cuts that litter his face.

JJ takes a moment to clear his throat, taking in a few deep breaths before he answers, making sure he doesn’t look at the other. The group has seen him patched up, but JJ has never shown up with fresh wounds before, ones that are harder to hide as blood runs over tan skin. “Out for a late night surf? The waves are killer tonight.”

“Just needed to get away from my dad for a bit,” Pope answers and JJ can relate, but he’s sure in a totally different way. Pope’s dad always pressures him to do well in school, but he never hits him. JJ’s dad always starts and ends with hitting, coated with a bit of yelling. That was how he put pressure on him. “Why are you here?”

“I’m just going for a late night swim, clear my head,” JJ lies, but it’s really only half a lie. He is here to clear his head, but he hadn’t really planned on it becoming a late night swim. He was probably going to get in trouble for ruining a perfectly good outfit.

“In your clothes?” Pope is standing next to him now, hands in his pockets as he looks out at the horizon. JJ wants to look up, see what his expression is, but he knows he can’t. He can’t risk the other seeing his face.

“It was spur of the moment,” he replies, letting his chin rest against his crossed arms. It’s starting to get a bit cold, causing a chill to travel up his spine. Pope doesn’t seem to notice as he takes a seat next to him, leaning back on his hands.

“It’s peaceful without tourons.” And JJ has never wanted Pope to leave more. Actually, he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted Pope to leave before, but he wants to be alone right now. He wants to wallow in his own misery and forget about his shity life for a second.

But then he is looking up again, his mother’s voice reminding him to just breath and he can’t help the tears that stream down his cheeks, shoulders shaking as he hides his face. He doesn’t know how Pope reacts, doesn’t bother looking up when he feels arms around him, pulling him closer and simply letting him cry.

JJ doesn’t know when they leave. He also doesn’t know where the hell they are. The place is run down and shitty. Pope mentions something about the Chateau, but JJ can’t really place where he is referring too even though he’s heard them talk about it before.

The couch is old, nothing compared to the expensive one he is used to at his house, but this one feels worn, loved, and comforting in a way JJ can only describe as homey, something that his couch will never have. The place is dim and messy and JJ is suddenly thankful for the lighting because there is still blood on his face and purple blotches forming on his skin.

“I’m going to get the first aid kit,” Pope announces and JJ doesn’t even notice Pope’s hand on his shoulder until it is gone. He craves the comfort that it provided, the stability. It helped ground him in a way that only the ocean has been able to for years.

JJ falls back against the couch, a groan leaving his lips at the ache in his side. Pope is in his line of sight again, frown pulling down his lips as he reaches forward. “Do you-?” He’s holding a face cloth, worn and frayed, out for JJ to take.

JJ simply shakes his head, pain shooting through his chin at the motion. He doesn’t even know where to begin with his face and his arms are tired. He’s tired.

Pope simply nods, doesn’t say anything as he presses the cold cloth to his face. JJ flinches at the touch, but doesn’t pull away, lets the other take care of him. He’s thankful when Pope starts to talk, words tumbling out of his lips. He never asks what happened, simply cleans JJ up and lets him fall asleep on the couch.

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

JJ blinks his eyes open the next morning, pain shooting through his cheek as he pushes himself up. The room is completely unfamiliar and instantly his heart is pounding as he looks around, trying to figure out where he is. It isn’t until he notices Pope in the corner that he calms down, taking in a deep breath.

“Thank fuck you’re awake,” he hears, eyes flickering back to Pope. The other is leaning back in the chair across the room, looking awkward and uncomfortable as he pushes himself into a better sitting position. He looks worried. “I was fucking getting worried. It’s like noon.”

JJ lets out a sigh as he pushes himself off the couch, eyes glancing around the dinghy place. He isn’t sure where he is, and it must show on his face because Pope is up now, explaining, “This is the Chateau, JB’s place.” JJ feels guilt suddenly as he looks around. He can’t imagine living in a house like this, small and worn. The paint was chipping and the wood looked like it was basically crumbling from years of abuse.

But it looked like a home. And as JJ looks around, noticing pictures of JB and his family and friends, JJ can’t help the jealousy that bubbles. The place he calls home feels more like a prison than anything, the only picture of his family is a portrait that was painted when he was a child. This place was worn, but lived in and loved in a way JJ couldn’t even imagine.

“I have to get home,” JJ says, because he is suddenly overwhelmed. These people have so much less money than him, but they have so much more than he could ever ask for. He would throw all his money away to have this kind of love and friendship in his house rather than the cold blank walls and the cruel touch of his father's hand.

“What? You can stay here. JB won’t mind,” Pope insists, following him out the door. JJ takes a deep breath, sucks it right into his lungs as fast as he can. He has to lean over for a moment, hands on his knees and Pope’s hand suddenly on his shoulder. He finches away from the touch as he looks at the other.

“I have to go,” he repeats but instead of heading to the road he heads towards the water. He nearly collapses on the dock, legs pulled up and fingers running through his hair. Pope doesn’t follow, he’s thankful as he listens to the waves, taking in a breath with each wave that hits the dock. He stays there until his breath evens out and he is able to fully realize how embarrassed he is. He just freaked out for basically no reason.

He wants to just leave, make his way back home, but he doesn’t know where JB lives so he doesn’t know how to get home and his phone is long dead. It doesn’t matter anyway because Pope is sitting on the deck, book in his lap and feet resting on the table in front of the couch. He has a cup of what JJ assumes is coffee steaming on the table and he notices a matching cup next to it.

JJ composes himself as best he can, tugging at his wrinkled shirt and tucking it in. He shakes his head and pulls it back out before he finally steps onto the porch.

It’s another space that is clearly lived in. The couches are old and JJ sinks into the cushion as he takes a seat next to Pope, grabbing the coffee on the table. He’s surprised Pope made it correctly, surprised Pope paid such close attention since he’s only ordered coffee a few times at The Wreck.

“My dad has a mean right jab,” JJ says, voice quiet as he takes a sip of his coffee. It’s hot but he could use the distraction.

“That looks like more than a right jab.” Pope puts the book down, making sure to fold down the corner before he places it on the table. He grabs the coffee as well.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs and he doesn’t look at Pope, can’t look at Pope because it’s always pity when people find out. He doesn’t need Pope’s pity, doesn’t want it. He just wants to go back in time, run the other way when the other showed up on the beach.

“But you don’t deserve it.”

The words are new. There are very few people that know about his abuse but none have ever said that, none have said that he doesn’t deserve it.

“I’m a failure.” He can hear his father. “I’m worthless.” He closes his eyes because he doesn’t want to cry, tries to hold the tears back, but they slip out anyway. They slide down his cheek and drip from his chin.

He wants to drop it, to move on from this conversation, has a new topic on the tip of his tongue, but Pope is right in front of him, hand moving tentatively to his cheek. “Why would you say that? You’re not a failure and definitely not worthless.”

JJ tugs his head away, out of Pope’s grip, as he lets out a puff of air through his nose. “Most people would disagree.” His father would disagree and that’s really the only voice that matters because it’s literally been hit into him his whole life.

“JJ,” and JJ finally looks at him, blue meeting brown eyes as he looks into Pope’s. He sucks in a breath as he looks at the other, searching his eyes for any hint of his father's words, but he doesn’t find any. “I’ve only known you a few months and I know you’re not a failure. I know you’d do anything to protect your friends. I know you bring extra food on our boat trips just to make sure JB and I have snacks for the week. I know that you’re loyal and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you aren’t worthless.”

And Pope is usually a rambler, but those words are crystal clear and they literally take JJ’s breath away. It’s so stupid really, because JJ is completely in love with Pope and the other didn’t even know it. He’s been in love with Pope for so long now and he doesn’t think he can hold it in any longer, not after that.

So JJ leans forward, slow and steady, and lets Pope close that gap. To his relief, he does, pressing his lips to JJ’s, tentative and warm. It isn’t anything like the girls he’s dated in the past (if you can call a few days with the same girl dating). They were soft, needy in a way that JJ never liked. He actually stopped kissing his conquests after a while. Pope was different though, he was slow, but sure, lips firm against JJ’s without being demanding. The fingers on his face have calluses from working, rough against the cut along his jaw.

JJ wants to stay like this forever, drown in the feeling of the other, but he has to pull back, has to get one more thing out before this goes any further. “My dad can’t find out,” he mutters because he knows the man won’t approve, has always made comments. It’s why it had taken JJ so long to even work up the courage to accept he had feelings for a guy nonetheless actually kiss said guy.

“Yeah, okay, we can do that, we can-” and he’s rambling a little, obviously nervous so JJ simply leans forward to connect their lips again, happy when the other finally shifts so he can straddle JJ’s lap.

“Fuck, took you idiots long enough.” The two spring apart at the words, both sets of eyes going to John B, who is currently standing at the top of his stairs, a mischievous smile on his lips. Pope slips off his lap and JJ instantly wants him back. “I mean, don’t stop on my account. I’m just grabbing some food before I head to my next job.”

And they don’t stop. John B is in and out after only a few minutes and JJ instantly finds himself an arm full of Pope as he leans over to connect their lips again.

#mayward #jj #pope #jjpope #jj x pope #pope x jj #request #outer banks #obx #this is much longer than I planned #but I needed background man #so i did it #i hope you enjoy!#i have another kook!jj story in the works #but soo different than this #will try to get another request out tomorrow #e writes

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waokevale · 4 years

Text

Slight panic attack,

Porcelain Face - Chapter 5

WARNING: Lilo&Stitch 2 spoilers (If you haven't watched it before)

-"So how about we go inside? Have you ever been to a porcelain store before, paper-boy?"

The guy in grey apron asked as the three of them walked into the warehouse of the shop.

-"Nope, and if you want to talk to me with a nickname it's actually cardboard boy." Virgil replied.

-"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, what's your name by the way?" The guy asked, a little nervously from the awkwardness of this conversation so far.

-"Its Virgil" The cardboard boy replied.

-"That's a lovely name you got there kiddo! I'm Patton! I'm the son of the owner of this store, cool right?" The guy so-called Patton said in a cheerful tone.

-"Yeah, yeah. Skip it, that's amazing that you guys finally know each other now but haven't we brought Vee here for a reason???" Ethan rolled his eyes.

-"Ooooh! Yeah! Explanations!" Patton finally replied.

-"Not ALL of the explanations, Pat." - the porcelain boy raised his voice a little with stress and worry.

The older one nodded quickly.

-"Soo.....Do you want to know about your mask?"

Virgil and Ethan both looked questionably at him.

Virgil's expression on his cardboard face obviously said that he indeed wanted to know more about it and the other boy was just waiting for the bomb to explode.

-"Well...I know it's magic but I don't know exactly where it came from, hehe...." Patton laughed nervously, scratching his cheek.

Ethan facepalmed his head then, Virgil though looked pretty confused and disappointed.

-"Guess we're staying here for the rest of the school time...right?" Virgil said, wanting to change the subject, what's the point of asking questions anyway if they won't tell you the answers.

-"Oh no no no! You're not staying in THIS place.

It's only for fixing Dee over here." he said pointing at the porcelain boy

"How about going to the cafe?" Patton suggested getting a glare from the porcelain boy for the nickname that was used in front of Virgil again.

-"You change your mind pretty quickly."the cardboard boy said.

-"Not wanting to be rude of course."

-"Nah, you're not.

He's just like this confused mom friend even if he declares himself a dad" Ethan simply said making the usually bubbly person huff in annoyance before smiling again and saying:

-"Welp, I may act like that sometimes but I do not have a feminine face like you, dear cousin." The older boy smirked as the younger one with heterochromia gasped offended.

-"That's not my fault! Let's just go to the cafe!"

Virgil giggled at their funny relationship, they got along pretty well.

It was a shame for him to be honest to not have any cousins or siblings....It felt so...lonely.

After they appeared at their destination Patton asked the boys what they wanted to get, since he was the one to buy the stuff.

Virgil wanted to deny but he looked at Ethan instead remembering he didn't eat.

Apparently Ethan forgot for a second as well before getting "angry" again.

-"I can't- You bastard! How dare you Patton?! Right in my face?" The porcelain boy exclaimed as both of them knew what he was talking about, they both laughed.

-"Your loss. Virgil will get your food then!" Patton simply said as Ethan crossed his arms, pretty pissed off at his miserable non-human being.

-"No, no I don't-"

Virgil tried explaining as Patton gasped before heading closer to the boy and whispering:

-"Please don't tell me you don't eat too."

-"No, it's just I don't want to inpose, please-" Virgil tried saying but Patton kept nagging him until he finally sighed in defeat and agreed.

As Patton went to buy the food and drinks there for a moment was silence between the two of the other boys until Ethan finally spoke up.

-"Sooo...You're really not ashamed of me being...you know?" He asked as the other boy shook his head pretty fast it could even fall of his neck.

-"No! Of course not! You're wonderful!" He tried defending the other who smiled softly at him.

-"Are you busy tonight?" The porcelain boy asked.

-"N-no? Why do you ask?" Virgil said.

-"Then I'm inviting you over! You can finally meet my queer-platonic mums!" He said exitedly before flushing in embarrassment for saying it out loud."

-"R-Really? They won't mind?" Virgil asked again, a little more shy this time but still with hope in his voice.

-"No, but there is another problem with them that you need to just ignore..."

-"What???" Virgil became a ball of confusion at this moment.

-"They ugh....Think we are a couple? How do you say it....They...ship us?"

-"What???? And why would I be a bout-" Virgil asked with an inside joke.

-"Well, it's not exactly a bout...."

-"I know what it means, dummy. I'm just playing with you to make it sound less awkward."

-"Well, that didn't help-" As Ethan was in his mid sentence he got cut off by Patton who just came back with the food."

-"DA FOOD IS HERE!" Patton happily exclaimed.

With that sentence The boy in vitligo did some hand gestures to Patton, probably the sign language as the boy in glasses glared at him and used the sign gestures back.

Ethan: "F-U-C-K O-F-F P-A-T"

Patton:"L-A-N-G-U-A-G-E"

-"What were you saying????" Virgil asked but instead of answering Ethan took the muffin from Patton's plate who clearly yelled at him as he shoved it in Virgil's face.

Unfortunately it didn't go through his mask as it was intended to.

Instead it made Virgil very uncomfortable.

-"Guess it broke, huh?" Ethan said.

-"I'll eat it later you idiot! Don't shove it in my mouth here if I can't eat it!" Now Virgil was really pissed at the other boy who now tried to apologize to him the best he could.

And it finally worked.

-"How about we go to Dee's house?" Patton suggested.

-"I already asked him that before, he agreed."

-"Yey!" Patton replied still as happy as ever.

-"But I need to get my things first-" Virgil said worriedly.

-"Oh right!" The both of them said in unison.

As Patton drove him off to his house to get his things.

His parents weren't home as usual....

After 10 bare minutes of packing he came back and popped in the car next to apparently Dee.

-"Why aren't you sitting next to Patton in the front sit?" Virgil asked curiously for why the other boy was sitting here when there was an empty sit in the front.

-"He knows why." Patton exclaimed rolling his eyes as Ethan stuck his tongue out at him.

-"Okay then..." The cardboard boy awkwardly replied.

After 10 minutes of driving or so, because Patton couldn't drive faster that 50mph.

[Ethan always woke up pretty early and run 5 km like it was nothing]

When they finally arrived Ethan went to knock on the door as he said:

"Mom C! Mamma D! I'm brought Pat and Virgil home!"

-"Pfff..Mom C, Mamma D?" Virgil said

-"Shut up" Ethan replied as two woman in the age of 30 or close came to the door.

One had light curly hair dyed the color red and as the author would describe African eyes as they were green with a big patch of hazel in the middle.

She also appeared to have a lot of freckles on her face.

She as well as Patton wore an apron but not for painting though as for cooking.

The other one looked more tomboy like, one could say.

She had pretty short but not too short dirty blonde hair, torquise eyes and a literal face of a duck.

She wore a black hoodie and stripped shirt under it, also having trainers and ripped jeans.

-"How's our not-born-from-either-of-us gay son doing?" They both said in unison as he sighed, Patton though giggled and Virgil just rolled his cardboard eyes playfully.

-"Ooooh! Is this your boyfriend you've been talking about?" Mamma D (Dominique) said.

-WHA-NO! HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND MOM!"

Ethan yelled, his face being the color of a tomato at least.

-"Not yet" Mom C (Caroline) said looking at a wall and winking to it.

[She breaks da fourth wall]

-"God..." Dee whined tiredly.

-"Auntie Caroline and Dominique are funny aren't they?" Patton exclaimed.

-"Um....." Virgil was almost silent, as he as well as Dee blushed madly.

-"Anyways, we are going to my room, what's for dinner?" Dee asked, not caring that he himself didn't eat, since the other two on the other hand did.

-"Mac n Cheese!" Dominique yelled.

-"Mmmm, my favorite!" Patton happily cheered.

-"God, I wish I could eat....It always looks so good..." The porcelain boy mumbled not expecting the comforting pat on the back from his hooded friend in the mask.

-"It's fine, though. I'm used to this torture." The boy exclaimed this time louder.

There was a moment of silence before Ethan asked both of them:

-"Hey guys, what do you want to play?" He said pointing at a giant stock of board and video games.

-"Jenga!" Patton exclaimed

-"Monopoly..?" Virgil said unsurely.

-"Virgie NOOOO I don't want to lose you!" Ethan whined holding the paperboy's hands with the pleading yet fake sadness on his face pretending to be dramatic again making the smaller one giggle.

-"Aww you guys are cute." Patton said, adoring the other two who flushed and moved away a few inches.

After some time of playing board games like dungeons and dragons, Jenga, Uno and Hot Patt-tato they were loosing up for a movie.

-"Oh, oh! Let's watch Bolt!" Patton yelled exitedly.

-"I'd rather watch Jungle Book, It's more classic." Dee criticized

-"What about...Lilo & Stitch?" Virgil suggested, still pretty shy though.

-"which part? I have all four, plus the series." Dee exclaimed.

-"Um....Maybe the second one?" Virgil said.

-"Okay then..."

When the dinner was finally ready they all stopped the movie to eat, except Ethan who didn't want to wait for them here and later getting teased on by Dominique and Caroline, Dee left, offended and flustered, then Virgil and finally Patton.

They got to the part in which Stitch couldn't control himself anymore and screwed stuff up, him and Lilo had a fight and later on Lilo went to play a role without him as he was even more broken.

This scene made them all sob, but not as much as when Stitch was put into the fixing machine as everyone thought it was too late for him.

Now they all fully cried. What was the most surprising was that it wasn't Patton who cried the most at the scene but Virgil.

Both Ethan and Patton tried to comfort him after watching the part.

Though there was happy ending so nothing really bad then..

-"Virgie, why did you pick a movie which would make you cry so much?" Ethan asked worriedly.

-"I just...wanted to see this part again...For some reason.."

-"Okay then..." The boy in vitligo signed.

-"Oh! Son, it was very nice to meet you and I'd be glad to adopt you as my own." Patton said with a loving stare at the masked boy.

-"Ummm....What?" Virgil asked, pretty confused now.

-"Shh..You're my baby now."

-"...Eth?" Virgil tried asking for help but none came since Ethan just gave the "shrug it off" motion.

After some time of eating snacks and talking, the porcelain boy checked the hour.

-"Oh shit we should probably go to sleep, guys."

-"Language, Dee." Patton rolled his eyes tiredly.

-"But it's only 2 AM in the morning?" Virgil asked as the other two gave him an unbelieving stare which made him regret saying this out loud.

-"Bed. Now" both of them said at the same time.

-"Nooooo" Virgil whined as he was being pulled by them to bed.

-"But my Tumblr-" he tried defending himself but for no use.

-"It won't fly away. Now sleep!" Ethan said in a worrying yet stern voice.

-"Um...I sort of have problems with that."

-"Shouldn't you put your mask away first? It's probably hurting your face no-" Patton asked yet being cut off by the younger boy in the cardboard mask.

-"NO!" Virgil yelled but put his hands to his mouth and gasped at his sudden outburst.

-"I'm so sorry, I- I didn't mean to-" he cried as Ethan came closer to him.

-"It's not your fault, it happens sometimes to every one of us.

Now do you want me to sing you a song? Maybe it will help you sleep, I don't know...."

The smaller boy nodded without any hesitation even to his own surprise making Ethan chuckle a little as he began to sing Welcome to Wonderland by Anson Seabra.

Which actually worked as his wonderful siren like voice lulled the cardboard boy to sleep.

They both then fell asleep on the porcelain boy's bed as Patton just signed, peacefully this time and went to the living room.

-"VIRGIL WAKE UP, WE OVERSLEPT!" The voice broke the amazing silence as the boy in the bed hissed lazily not caring.

-"Virgil please, we need to go! Or I'm taking your mask off." Ethan fake-threatend.

Virgil then suddenly flicked from the bed "energized as ever"

Or rather anxious as ever.

As they both sat in the car and run as fast as they could to the classroom...

And there was a new student.

#ts patton #ts virgil #ts deceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic virgil

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fifteenleads · 3 years

Text

A YOI x Chrono Trigger AU fic from Ye Olde 2018-ish Era. Go figure.

I can’t even remember what the hell I titled this before. Welp.

Chapter One: “That’s a Nice Band-Aid, Darling.”

They say that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, and that a hero's adventure begins with a cliché-ass wake-up call - something like, "Good morning, Crono!," perhaps. How that even made it on to TV Tropes, Yuuri would never understand. But it is on TV Tropes, and he is in bed reading it.

He's glad his mother doesn't wake him up that way, at least. But then again, he's always up before five a.m. anyway. Sadly, the daily deliveries won't take care of themselves.

Yuuri glances at the time on his tablet. 4:59. Someone will come knocking in three, two, one --

"Yuuri! Get up!" Mari's voice is accompanied by three sharp raps on the door. "Go with dad to the plaza and help him set up!"

This is the part where the hero typically groans at being woken up before grudgingly getting themselves out of bed, but Yuuri Katsuki does not groan. He shouts back that he'll be down in a minute while looking for that darned sock that has gone missing now, of all times. Phichit would surely laugh hard at seeing his best friend hopping frantically on one foot while wearing a poodle-patterned sock. It'll probably go viral on Instagram, too, but that's pretty much a given already. Someone has to part the boy from his gadgets long-term after the Millenial Fair is over.

The minute is up, so Yuuri gives up and gets another sock from the drawer. It is patterned with the face of a silver-haired man surrounded by snowflakes. He has no idea how that found its way into his pile of clothing, but for now, mismatched socks are better than being late.

Yuuri makes his way downstairs and greets his mother, who is busy in the kitchen. Hiroko sends him off with an allowance of fifty kin and packed lunch for him and his father. He ignores Mari's snickering as she musses his hair while glancing at his feet.

The ride to the plaza is pretty short. It is already bustling with people even at such an early hour, all the sellers trying to outdo each other in showing off their wares. Yuuri chuckles as his father joins in the fray, calling out to everyone about the best katsudon in town. Everyone is excited for Hasetsu Kingdom's first Millenial Fair, and with it, the hopes for a thousand years more of peace and prosperity to come.

Toshiya leads the way to their assigned spot, a quaint little corner by the northern area of the square. The tent had already been set up the day before, so all that's left to do is to arrange the food and drinks before the first customers come in. Yuuri passively observes the hustle and bustle around them. Much energy is palpable in the air, and the excited hubbub only grows louder as the sun rises. Some stalls have weapons and armor, others exotic trinkets and accessories. He even spots a merchant selling animals. Phichit would probably want to pick up a new hamster on the way home later.

His eyes wander to the secluded area beyond the main square. Yuuri hoped Phichit's solo exhibit would be a success this time, too. His friend loved tinkering with machines since he was little, and it brought him and his family great fortune as he won scientific contests left and right. His magnum opus, a two-machine teleporter, had impressed the university professors and the panel of judges alike, earning him the highest thesis grade and the first prize for the National Physics Summit.

Yuuri's hand stills when his father calls his name. He had been adding portions of garnish to the newly-cut fried pork cutlets. He instinctively opens his mouth to apologize, but Toshiya immediately pats his back and pushes a one hundred-kin note into his hand. "I'll take care of the stall. You go have fun." He winks at his son mischievously, and Yuuri pushes down the growing blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"Th-Thanks, dad," he mumbles, bowing slightly before making his way to the northernmost part of the square. Phichit would probably be busy right now, but he would never refuse breakfast and morning coffee. It had been their time-honored tradition as college roommates, after all.

Yuuri stops by a mobile café and orders two tall hazelnut lattés and a baguette loaf. He is turning to leave with breakfast in hand when he bumps into the next person in line, spilling hot coffee over his white shirt. The other person, too, recoils in pain, reflexively putting a slender finger into his mouth to nurse it.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so, so sorry!" Yuuri exclaims, setting aside the food and drink and beginning to fuss over the man. He searches his bag for the small bottle of salve he always brings with him, and proceeds to apply a small amount over the man's injured finger, covering it with a band-aid afterwards.

The other man chuckles as he lets Yuuri take care of him. "It's quite all right," he assures airily, waving the bandaged hand with a smile. "I was also too close to you in line, as well." His blue eyes crinkle beautifully as he smiles, and Yuuri fights yet another blush from coloring his face. "I love this band-aid, though!" the man comments. "Where did you get it?"

"F-From the kids' section of the pharmacy," Yuuri admits, embarrassed. He just had to use that one by mistake instead of the flesh-tones ones, did he? Why now, of all times? "The poodle-patterned ones were part of a limited edition series."

"Nice!" the man exclaims in delight, scrutinizing the design closely. "Thank you so much for giving me this one. I love it!" He winks at Yuuri and places a light kiss over his own bandaged finger.

Yuuri wishes the ground would swallow him whole right this instant.

"U-Um, I think I'll get going now," he excuses himself, retrieving the coffee and bread from the counter. "My friend is waiting uphill. I'm so sorry again." Yuuri quickly nods his head and goes on his way, but the other man takes a long stride and ends up beside him, taking the baguette loaf out of his arms.

"It's okay, I'll help you," he offers happily as they ascend the stone steps. "I'm alone today, anyway." The man cradles the food with his left arm and extends his right hand out to Yuuri. "I'm Binktop, by the way. What's your name?"

For an instant, Yuuri is tempted to laugh out loud. The funny name hardly matches the man's regal appearance at all. He must be a foreigner, like the many others who have come to Hasetsu Kingom to join in the festivities. As a citizen of Hasetsu, therefore, he is to show this man the utmost respect and hospitality he deserves, funny names or not.

He shakes Binktop's hand, the cool skin sending small shivers down his spine. "I'm Yuuri. It's nice to meet you, Binktop."

"A pleasure." Binktop returns the handshake with a smile, and they continue going up the stairs. "So, Yuuri, are you also alone here today?"

"Our family actually has a food stall down at the main square, but my dad told me to enjoy myself today," Yuuri explains. "I'm on my way to see my friend, actually. He's an inventor."

Binktop's eyes widen and sparkle in delight, and he accidentally climbs two steps at once. "Wow! He must be really smart!"

"He is," Yuuri nods fondly in agreement. "Phichit has a solo exhibit today. This project won him first place at the National Physics Summit last month."

"That's amazing!" Binktop gushes in admiration, his silver bangs parting to reveal twinkling blue eyes. "I can't wait to meet him!" Yuuri smiles back proudly in response.

They reach the top of the stairs in a minute. The miniature square is cluttered with various machine parts and wires of different lengths and calibers. The two main pods have already been set in their positions, though not yet fully-assembled as Yuuri remembers them. It's definitely like Phichit to cram at the last minute.

The soft whirring noise dies down as the two approach the left pod, and a brown-skinned young man in a bandanna and overalls comes out to greet them. "Yuuri! You're here!"

Yuuri shrugs good-naturedly and hands Phichit the cup of coffee. "I'd love to hug you, but you're covered in oil and soot right now." He smiles widely at his best friend. "Good luck with your exhibit today!"

"Oh my gosh, thank you so much! You don't know how much I need it!" Phichit downs the coffee in an instant, breathing rapidly through his mouth afterwards to cool his tongue. "I heard the prince is coming with the royal delegation to watch my demonstration! I am so nervous!"

This time, Yuuri pats Phichit's shoulder encouragingly, not minding his hand blackening with soot afterwards. "You'll do well, Phichit! You've done this before; you can do it again."

"Good luck, Phichit!" Binktop adds, sending a friendly wink and a thumbs-up of his own. Phichit is surprised at the additional voice, and notices the other man for the first time. His nervous expression immediately changes to one of teasing, instantly directed at his friend. "Yuuri!" he whispers loudly. "Who's the hot guy?!"

"H-He's not - I mean -" Yuuri splutters, coughing into his hand to stop himself. He doesn't even bother hiding his obviously-reddened cheeks anymore; nothing ever escapes Phichit's notice, anyway. Tonight's phone call is going to be a long one.

When Yuuri has composed himself, he turns to Binktop. "Phichit, this is Binktop. I ran into him in the square today. Binktop, this is my friend, Phichit."

"Hi there!" Phichit merrily extends a hand to Binktop. "Phichit Chulanont, at your service!"

"Binktop," he introduces himself, shaking Phichit's hand. "Yuuri here has told me a lot about you."

"Hahaha, good things, I hope!" Phichit laughs, before shooting Yuuri an expectant glare. Yuuri grins back before taking another sip of coffee.

Phichit shows them around the workplace, pointing out the different parts of the invention and which part goes where. His black eyes shine brightly as he rambles in tech jargon while explaining the principle behind the teleporter. Binktop nods excitedly while asking questions, while Yuuri merely watches them interact. Despite his "nerdy glasses," as Phichit had christened them, he is not really into scientific stuff, having taken up a sports major in university.

"Sure thing! I was about to give this thing a test run, anyway." Phichit beckons Yuuri to come over. "Yuuri! Could you kindly step on the left pod? Binktop wants a demonstration."

Yuuri opens his mouth to protest, but knows better than to interrupt his friend when he is in scientist-mode. He may have also wanted to impress Binktop with his bravery, but he doesn't know it yet. Huffing, he finishes the rest of his coffee in one gulp and does as he is told.

Phichit flips the switch, and Yuuri almost loses his footing as he feels himself being sucked away into a vacuum space. Black, wavy lines fill his vision for a moment before everything around him returns to normal. He steps off the right pod and flashes the peace sign at Phichit and Binktop from across the square.

Binktop immediately makes a beeline for Yuuri and embraces him tightly, while Phichit pumps his fist in joy. "Wow, amazing!" he exclaims as he cups Yuuri's face. "You actually teleported!"

"That's how it's supposed to work," Yuuri answers matter-of-factly, but even he has an undeniably huge smile on his face. Phichit's exhibit is surely going to be a massive hit amongst the fair-goers.

"Can I give it a try, too?" Binktop asks Phichit excitedly, still not letting go of Yuuri. "It looks like so much fun!"

"Of course, Binktop!" Phichit laughs, gesturing at the left pod. "Anything for Yuuri's friend!"

Binktop lets out a whoop and disentangles himself from Yuuri. He lightly steps onto the left pod and runs a hand throuh his silver hair. "Watch me, Yuuri!" He sends a playful wink in Yuuri's direction before nodding at Phichit.

"All right, let's do this!" Phichit flips the switch again. Nothing happens at first, so he turns the machine off and on while observing the monitors. Worry begins to creep into his expression as he starts fiddling with the controls, but still, nothing happens.

A gasp from the left pod directs their attention to Binktop, whose pendant is glowing brightly from inside his shirt. It seems to be resonating with the core machine of the teleporter, from which ominous sparks begin to fly out. Phichit shouts at Binktop to get off the pod immediately, but Binktop hears it too late.

A large wormhole, unlike the one Yuuri had seen briefly while he teleported, opens up in the space behind Binktop and appears to be sucking him in. Trying his best to hold his ground, Binktop cries out for help as he extends his hand. In a panic, Yuuri runs up to the left pod and tries to grab him, but his whole body disappears in a flash of light, and the wormhole closes in an instant. Yuuri is left alone on the pod, Binktop's golden pendant in his hand.

Phichit is the first to regain his voice after a few minutes. "What the hell... This wasn't supposed to happen..." Yuuri turns to his friend, who is kneeling by the controllers in shock. Long tracks of tears have washed away the layers of soot on his face.

He runs down to embrace Phichit, who is now trembling in his friend's arms. "Yuuri, I'm so sorry! I really didn't mean for this to happen!"

Yuuri runs his hands over his friend's back, ignoring his own swimming vision and the violent hammering of his own heart in his chest. Now is not the time to deal with an impending anxiety attack - not when Phichit needs his help.

"Phichit. Look at me," he instructs calmly. "Breathe with me."

Together, they go through the motions, inhaling and exhaling deeply in unison. Most of the time, it was Phichit who did this for Yuuri when they were still in college together. It always helped calm Yuuri down after an attack, and Yuuri is more than glad to return the favor now. They cannot afford to be too calm, however - they still have to find out where the hell Binktop went.

Some day this is turning out to be. Yuuri swears never to get up before five a.m. ever again.

Phichit looks up at him and nods determinedly. Yuuri lets go of his friend as he begins to go over his notes. "Either the telepod malfunctioned, or something else did it," he thinks aloud to the clearing at large. "I'm suspecting your friend's pendant had an unusual reaction with the core interface, causing a ripple in the space-time fabric or something."

Yuuri gapes at Phichit incredulously. "You mean, like, time travel?!"

"I don't know yet." Phichit bites his lower lip in deep thought. "That wormhole could have led anywhere. It's too dangerous to try anything at this point."

"We have to bring Binktop back, Phichit! There's no time!"

"I know that!" Phichit snaps, rubbing a blackened hand on his temple at the sudden outburst. "It's not as easy as it seems. We have to find out how to open that wormhole, for starters. There must be something about that pendant."

Yuuri lifts the pendant in his hand against the daylight. It is a small, round, golden medallion with intricate rose patterns bordering its circumference, hanging from a simple chain. The pendant also seems to be pretty old but well-maintained. He briefly wonders where Binktop must have gotten such a valuable trinket and how much it must have cost, but pushes these thoughts out of his mind.

A tiny spark jumps out of the medallion, causing Yuuri to drop the pendant onto the left pod in surprise. Immediately, it causes another reaction, violent gusts of wind forming around them as the wormhole opens once more.

"Well," Phichit laughs brokenly, "that was easy enough!" With a hand shielding his face, he struggles to walk against the wind's direction and tries to pick up the pendant off the ground.

Yuuri has other ideas, however. He uses his stronger body to his advantage and overtakes Phichit in a second, picking up the pendant and wearing it around his neck.

"Yuuri! What are you doing?!" Phichit shouts in alarm. "Get off the pod now!"

To be honest, he has no idea what he is doing, either. His body is already protesting his sudden decision, his heart rate going up, his breathing more rapid, and his hands slippery with sweat. But above all, Yuuri feels that it's the right decision. It's more reckless than heroic, by all means, but nevertheless the right one, just the same.

"I'll bring Binktop back!" he shouts at his friend. "I'll get us back home, I promise!"

Again with the stupid promises, but Phichit seems to finally support his decision. He nods determinedly and hands Yuuri a long, steel wrench. "It's my favorite one! Bring it back safely, okay?"

"Thanks, Phichit! I will." Yuuri waves the wrench nervously as he steps into the closing wormhole.

"Be careful, Yuuri!" Phichit shouts after him. "I'll try to follow you as soon as I figure things out!"

A chuckle escapes Yuuri's lips. It's just like his friend to jump at the call. If anyone is more suited to be the hero of this story, it would definitely be Phichit, and Yuuri, as the dutiful friend, would support him all the way. Funny how things have turned out the other way around this time.

For now, he, Yuuri Katsuki, will be the hero of this story, and he swears on his life to bring Binktop back.

Yuuri raises a thumbs-up to the fading image of his friend, not caring if he doesn't see it. He lets the distortion fill his senses completely until the black nothingness consumes him and claims his consciousness.

#yuri!!! on ice #chrono trigger #alternate universe #fantasy #fanfic

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songfell-ut · 4 years

Text

Chapter 3, still a-comin’

Cirumstances, am I right, folks?

If you didn’t make it through Chapter 2 or this is all 100% new, welp, this is a continuation of this comic by @lostmypotatoes, after which Frisk has gotten him to be her witchly apprentice, but now he’s trying to flake on her. ACTION

Sans was getting soft in his old age, or maybe from proximity to someone as aggressively good-hearted as the High Priestess, because he found he didn't want to demolish the entire wall. For one thing, without his magic, it'd be too much effort. More importantly, though, Frisk's rooms were many, many stories above the ground, and falling masonry could kill or injure someone below who hadn't earned it. Most important of all: Frisk would probably end up trying to help dig them out and put herself in danger.

He also figured that he had time to do things neatly and cost her less in repairs. Everything had been loosened by that first colossal blow, but he had to give it a few more whacks before he could start pulling it apart, making a pile of glass shards, wood paneling, bricks and stones in front of her office. Luckily, whoever had constructed the outside wall hadn't done a great job, or else it would've taken him all night. A carefully judged body-slam was enough to weaken the remaining support structures; a few kicks and a yank created a space big enough for the giant skeleton to squeeze through, and then he could see the barrier itself.

Panting, Sans took a moment to survey his handiwork. It sucked to exert himself like that, but he figured that sometimes in life, you just had to punch things until they broke.

Unfortunately, he didn't have that option with the barrier. The old stories came back to him as he stared at the golden latticework hovering outside the ruined wall. How was he going to get through without touching it directly or throwing something big enough to hurt someone below?

His eyes fell on the worktable and the vials of stuff he'd made this afternoon. Four hadn't been infused yet. Sans grabbed one, pulled off the cork and, with a speck of magic, willed the liquid to boil, burn, dissolve anything it touched. It promptly began to fizzle and hiss in his hand, and he had to fling it away like an idiot before it started eating through his metacarpals.

He did one thing right in throwing it at the barrier, which instantly melted and let the chilly night air wash over him. Outside, moonlight shadowed the bricks of a nearby wall that stretched almost all the way to the ground, ending in the roof of a building only a couple stories high. He could hop out, grab onto the brick edifice, climb down safely and be gone before Frisk even got back up here, never mind moving the statue and getting the doors open. From there, it'd only be a matter of time before his magic regenerated and he could take a shortcut home.

Poor Frisk. She'd tried. Hell, she'd survived his murder attempts and taught him a few things, and he'd never forget her.

Anyway, she was better off losing track of him and finding a smaller, tamer monster to work with. What was she even getting from him being here, besides a hell of a lot of trouble?

The question was supposed to be rhetorical, but as if in reply, he thought of Frisk standing at the worktable with her arm up those ridiculously oversized trousers, grinning and saying, "The pleasure of your company," looking up at him like...well, like he was her friend, not an inferior or a dangerous monster or a giant pain in the ass, pun absolutely intended. Of course, it wasn't as if she had many other friends, but he couldn't tell himself that she was just using a captive freak to keep her company; he already knew her too well for that.

This, right here. This was why he needed to leave now. The skeleton took a few steps back, gauging the distance to—

Whhhsh went something in his mental ear. He jerked around to see Frisk standing half in his shadow, half in the moonlight, with her veil in her hand and absolute murder in her eye. "Sans." It was a whisper, lost in the wind.

Shit fuck shit shit shiiiiiiit fuckity fuck SHIT rang in his head as the satchel hit the floor. "Frisk?" he whispered.

Frisk beckoned him closer with one finger. Unbelieving, he knelt, and she punched him so hard that he almost felt it. "Here is what's going happen," she said as he touched his jaw. "I assume you've blocked the doors, so you will go and unblock them, and I'll tell the guard that you were—we'll say you were fighting off an assassin, and everyone will be impressed when they see how much damage you did trying to kill him before he escaped. Won't they?"

Sans nodded helplessly. "How...how'd you...?"

"How did I get here?" She tossed the veil aside, letting it drift to the floor. "Let me tell you a story, Sans. Once upon a time – yesterday morning – I had a long talk with Dr. Serif. He said you probably didn't intend to stay for a whole month, and I needed to be on my guard, just in case you decided to pull a stunt like this. I didn't want to believe him, but I followed his advice, and lo and behold, less than a week later, I caught my lying, backstabbing apprentice trying to break his word because he was apparently too bored with me to waste time learning crucial information for the survival of his entire race! The end!"

Frisk had to pause for breath. The boss monster took great exception to that last accusation, and he doubted that was actually the end of the story, but he was afraid to interrupt. "Do you see this?" she continued. Sans flinched as the tiny woman ripped off her brooch and brandished it at him. "Dr. Serif brought it yesterday afternoon. It seems he'd taken some of your magic while you were unconscious, and not only did he refuse to return it to you, he said I couldn't be here every hour of the day, and I needed to have this if you ever tried to break loose. He infused it with enough of your power to teleport myself one time." Another deep breath. "Do you have any idea how angry I am that he was right, and I was right to listen? And do you know how sick to my stomach I feel right now?!" Frisk threw the brooch to the floor, where it shattered. The last bit of magic quietly evaporated, and she pressed the back of her hand to her lips, eyes unfocusing. "And...how do you stand—"

There it was. He couldn't believe it had taken this long to catch up with her—the first time he'd tried using a shortcut, it left him feeling like his head had been screwed on backwards.

The skeleton glanced at the open, crumbling wall, then at Frisk, who was leaning heavily on the worktable, eyes closed. Then...

The priestess squeaked as Sans swept her up into the crook of his arm and headed to the bathroom. "Put me down!" she croaked, thumping his clavicle.

"Yes, m'lady," he said, opening the door, poking the light on and placing her at the very back of the room. "Go for it."

Once she was settled and could puke in relative peace, Sans went to the double doors leading into the hall, replaced the statue in its niche, and headed back to the workroom. Her office door was blocked by the many chunks of wall piled in front of it, and moving them again would take effort, so the skeleton ignored it for now. He picked up the satchel and set it on the worktable, wondering if the wind was too cold for her and how, exactly, he was going to pay for this, in every sense of the word. After one more look outside, Sans made himself tiptoe back to the bathroom and ask, "You done?"

There was a pause, the sound of water running, and a much longer pause before she opened the door and stared up at him. "What are you still doing here?" she demanded.

Sans blinked at her, mostly for effect. "'Zat a trick question? I'm makin' sure you're okay. That magic can knock you on your ass the first couple times ya try it."

Her face tightened, a hard, bitter expression that probably shouldn't have surprised him. "You don't say." She turned her head to cough, resting her forehead on the tile wall. "Congratulations to you, Sans. I'm here, but I'm in no condition to do anything. Your plan worked after all." She pushed herself upright. "Good night."

Shit. "Uh...Frisk—"

The priestess walked right by to open the double doors. He heard her exclaim something about the guard not being there, and mutter that she'd deal with it in the morning. She barred the doors shut, which he hadn't even noticed was an option, and wobbled past him into her dressing room, evading his halfhearted attempt to steady her.

Hangers rattled. There was an occasional sniffle. When Frisk came out in a long crushed-velvet robe, she actually looked offended to see him. "Don't you have somewhere to be? I said good night, Sans."

Wasn't she going to at least try to stop him? Sure, she was sick and exhausted, but where was her determination? ...Was she so upset that she was determined to cut her losses and let him go?

That really seemed to be it. Well, Sans should have been elated, but he mostly just felt insulted. Besides, he couldn't leave until they got a few things straight, or else he'd spend the rest of his life trying not to think about it. The boss monster wracked his brain for a witty yet conciliatory opener, but what came out was "You're not boring."

A blast of wind howled through the room, flipping the lighter books open and ruffling the weighed-down stacks of paper. Frisk remained stock-still as her short, wavy hair fluttered across her face. "I beg your pardon," she said, colder than the autumn air.

"Okay, yeah, I admit it. I was gonna ditch ya," he said desperately. "But it wasn't 'cause I don't like you or I don' care about helping the other monsters. I—you remember all you heard about Papyrus, right?" Her expression softened a little as she nodded. "I had a dream about him last night that I'm pretty sure was real. Me bein' gone and him not knowin' I'm okay is killing him, Frisk. I can't..."

She stayed silent as Sans pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. It had been so long since he'd told someone the entire truth that he felt completely exposed. It was scary as hell, but he owed it to her and to Pap. "Ya gotta understand," he mumbled. "My brother's all I got left, and I'm all he's got. You've been nothin' but fair to me, and it's not yer fault there's no real way t'contact 'im. I just...I can't go a whole month without lettin' him know I'll be home soon, and I can't dream at him with yer barrier up." He sat down with his legs crossed, staring at the floor. "I spend too much damn time away as it is. He never knows for sure if I'm comin' back."

Frisk swallowed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner how important this was to you? And what do you mean, 'dream at him'?"

"I didn't bother 'cause you might'a thought I was lying to make you feel sorry fer me. I know I wouldn't trust me." The skeleton jerked his head at the ruined wall. "What I mean is, I can talk to Pap while we're both dreamin', but you wouldn't be there to hear what we were saying. I could tell him all sorts of crap, like how strong the High Priestess is and how much safer it'd be for us monsters if she was dead."

The priestess was silent again. Sans risked a glance in time to see her reach up to sweep her hair behind her ear, only to yelp in pain. Sure enough, as she raised her hand to inspect it, the outside knuckle was red and swollen. "Augh! How did I not notice this?" Frisk tried to move it and had to stifle another exclamation. "Wonderful. If it hurts this much, I must have broken it." She made an incoherent noise and started toward the rack of finished potions on the worktable.

Sans dimly recalled that humans didn't feel as much pain when they were scared or excited, and that it could catch up to them pretty fast. It also occurred to him that it was a bad idea for a small human to hit a thick-headed skeleton with her bare hand. "What are you doin'?" he wanted to know. "You can heal that up in a jiffy."

"I can't heal myself," she said brusquely. "I'm not very adept at healing to begin with, and I can't make it work on me at all."

That couldn't be right. "Ya mean to tell me you're good enough to hold me off and keep me penned in for days with no magic, but—"

"Leave me alone."

Her voice was so quiet and furious that he stopped dead. But as she picked a vial and started to pull the cork out with her teeth, Sans got up and held his own hand out. "Lemme see."

With as much dignity as she could muster, Frisk closed her mouth and handed him the vial. He put it back impatiently and beckoned again. "Not that, dummy. Yer hand."

The priestess gave him a long, eloquent look. When he didn't move, she placed her broken hand in his huge one, wincing as his thumb closed lightly over her wrist. It was hard to remember how to turn his magic green, but she'd been right about intentions: it helped to think about how badly he wanted it to work, not only to help her, but to prove that he was capable of fixing things as well as destroying them.

Sure enough, within seconds, his palm began to glow as if he held a handful of emeralds. When Sans could bring himself to let her go, she flexed it easily. "You've gotten some magic back already," she observed. Frisk smiled at him for a moment, and he couldn't not smile back. "You know," she said, anger rapidly resurfacing, "you're not only a lying reprobate, you are a huge idiot." She rapped her knuckles on his palm. "I've always had a barrier guarding the bedroom from any external magic. If that was the only thing keeping you from reaching Papyrus, you should have asked me to remove it."

Sans sat down again. "But—"

"As for the possibility of giving him illicit information, I will ask you this only once." Frisk moved closer, looking him square in the sockets. "Do you intend to tell the other monsters, at any point, that your race would be better off with me dead?"

He didn't even have to think about it before he answered, "Not anymore. You're pretty damn useful as you are, speakin' up on our behalf to the other humans. I don't see anyone pressuring you into screwin' us over."

A brief smile. "I'm glad to hear it. For my part, I don't mind letting you talk to your brother as long as you take me with you. I'd love to say hello—I've heard so much about him that it'll be like meeting an old friend." She stifled a yawn. "If you start tattling on me in some fashion, I can always pull the barrier back up."

"...You want me to...bring you...in my dream?" Blink. Blink. "But how—what're you gonna—"

"One thing at a time, Sans. First, we're going to bed."

"We're what now?"

"If you're not leaving yet, then we're going to bed, now. This mess can wait till morning." With a nod at her blocked office door, Frisk motioned for him to follow her into the bedroom. "Come along. There's nowhere else for me to sleep, and I'm freezing."

And so it was that Sans found himself lying rigid on the huge feather mattress, the priestess curled up like a cat in the armchair. He had no idea why he was so nervous; he couldn't even muster a semi-joke about her joining him in bed. "I've heard of this spell before," said Frisk, who seemed unperturbed by their proximity. "It's not very complicated. You've just healed me, and I've recently used some of your magic, so we have enough of a connection that I should be able to find you once we're asleep. ...The key word being sleep, Sans. You have to relax. I'm not going to eat you, no matter how short-sighted and dishonorable you've been."

"You're not gonna let that go, are ya?" he mumbled.

"You have no idea. We haven't even talked about repairing the wall yet." Her voice warmed again. "For now, though, don't worry about it. We need to find Papyrus and set you both at ease."

Now Sans felt nervous and extremely weird again. He turned onto his side so she couldn't see him changing color. "'Kay. I...yeah. Thanks."

"Of course," she said, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to do a favor for someone who had completely betrayed her trust, and turned off the witchlight. He felt her raise another barrier at the bedroom door, one solid enough to stop an army, and a thinner barrier disappeared from behind the headboard. "There," she said in the darkness. "We'll see how well this works. Go to sleep, Sans."

That seemed unlikely, but he'd forgotten who he was dealing with. When about ten minutes had passed and the orange light of his eyes was still going strong, something wonderful started creeping up on him, a soothing vibration that spread through every bone in his body before he even knew what he was hearing. It was Frisk humming, of course, and of course it worked; Sans was more than content to let the sound and her presence lull him to sleep.

He jerked upright as something hit his skull, reflexively swatting the air and yelling, "Piss off!"

The lights were back on. In fact, it was full daylight, or what passed for it. Sans rubbed his eye sockets, turning this way and that. He was still in bed, but the bed stood alone in the middle of an open, snowy field. Kid monsters were racing back and forth under gaily decorated trees, throwing snowballs at each other and catching him in the crossfire.

The skeleton brushed himself off, reasoning that the Underground could be a weird place, but it wasn't quite random-snow-bed weird. This must be a dream, then. Damn it...

Oh, well. At least it was a nice one, and it felt pretty real—his good dreams tended to be fuzzy, while every single one of his nightmares was incredibly vivid.

Footsteps crunched on the snow behind him. "Well, hello there. That was simple," said Frisk, looking around them as he got up. She was in her plush robe and bare feet, but seemed at ease. "So this is Snowdin. Which house is yours?"

"BROTHER?"

Sans froze as a familiar shape emerged from a nearby fog of ice crystals. "Papyrus?" he whispered.

"I KNEW IIIIIT—OOF!" Papyrus had run to give his brother a bear hug and fell straight through him, as if Sans was also made of fog. "WHAT IS THIS, SANS? HAVE YOU BECOME TOO LAZY TO STAY SOLID?" he accused him from the ground.

"It's a dream, bro. This happens every damn time," the boss monster said wearily. "Just keep it together and listen, okay? I'm here t'let you know—"

"WAIT. A HUMAN? IS THAT...KRIS?" Papyrus was staring up at Frisk, his face somehow creased in puzzlement. "IS IT REALLY YOU? I THOUGHT YOU'D BE...KRIS-ER, NYEH."

Sans snorted. "Not every human is Kris, Pap. Don't be racist."

"Hello," Frisk said, offering a bright smile and a hand up. "My name is Frisk. It's wonderful to meet you, Papyrus."

"YES, IT IS. NYEH-HEH-HEH! YOU ARE CLEARLY VERY WISE AND ATTRACTIVE, HUMAN!" Papyrus brushed the snow from his fake armor, throwing his red scarf back over his shoulder in so dramatic a fashion that he didn't notice Frisk grinning, though Sans sure did. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY GREAT AND ATTRACTIVE DREAM?" he added.

Still smiling, Frisk watched the pack of young monsters run by. The monsters didn't seem to notice them, though the bed was still there and her purple robe stood out like a dark beacon against the snow. "Your brother wanted to see you, and I decided to come along," she explained. "Sans was captured by humans about a week ago when he was out looking for food, but please don't worry about—"

"CAPTURED?!" Papyrus clapped both hands to his skull. "THIS IS TERRIBLE! PLEASE DE-CAPTURE HIM IMMEDIATELY, HUMAN, OR ELSE I...I...!"

"Pap! Take it easy. She's okay. 'Fact, she's the reason I ain't dead or enslaved right now." Sans plucked at his shirt. "See, she even got me some new duds. You can finally stop bitching about what I'm wearin'."

Papyrus stopped flailing long enough to examine Sans' shirt. "NYEH! I SEE NO HOLES OR QUESTIONABLE STAINS. WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?"

Sans smirked, letting his brother poke at him in vain. "I told ya, bro, I just got it. You don't hafta rip me apart like this."

Frisk rocked back and forth on her heels. "So," she said over Papyrus' exasperated groaning, "I gather you knew a boy named Kris from the last human delegation. Is that right?"

"YES, IT IS RIGHT! KRIS WAS OUR DEAR FRIEND," Papyrus said as Sans grimaced and turned away. "WE WENT FOR WALKS AND HAD SLEEPOVERS, AND MADE HAND PUPPETS THAT ALSO HAD SLEEPOVERS. IT WAS LIKE HAVING A CUTE LITTLE PET THAT CLEANED UP AFTER ITSELF. WE'VE ALL MISSED HIM VERY MUCH, NYEHHH."

"Yeah, he left with the other humans," Sans muttered. "Can we please move on now?"

"Yes, of course. I'm going to borrow your brother for a few more weeks," Frisk told Papyrus. The latter was glaring at his brother's new shirt again, as if daring it to make a false move. "I have a plan to start making peace between monsters and humans," she continued, "but I need a monster's help to do it. Can you get along without Sans until I send him back to the Underground?"

"HMMMM." Papyrus straightened, one hand on his chin. "YOU WON'T HURT HIM?" he asked, sounding almost timid.

"Absolutely not, Papyrus," she said firmly. "He'll be back safe and sound."

Papyrus nodded, evidently impressed by her sincerity. "I AM IMPRESSED BY YOUR SINCERITY, HUMAN. IF THIS DREAM IS NOT MY MAGNIFICENT IMAGINATION PLAYING TRICKS ON ME AGAIN, THEN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL SPARE MY GOOD-FOR-NOTHING BROTHER FOR A LITTLE WHILE LONGER. NYEH-HEH-HEH!" Without warning, the skeleton grabbed at Sans' wrist bones. "HUMAN! I WOULD LIKE TO TALK TO MY BROTHER IN SECRET FOR A MOMENT, IF YOU WILL PLEASE EXCUSE US. IT WILL BE SECRET!"

"Of course," said Frisk. "I'll be right here. Just make sure it's not too secret, please."

Sans covered his face with his hand as Papyrus marched toward the fog bank, still holding his brother's imaginary wrist. "Ya can't touch me, remember?" Sans called after him.

"...I KNEW THAT. CONGRATULATIONS, BROTHER! YOU HAVE PASSED THIS TEST! NYEH. ...HEH." Papyrus waited for Sans to join him, and they walked towards the river. "ARE YOU SURE THAT'S NOT KRIS?" the younger skeleton asked doubtfully.

Sans laughed, jerking his thumb in Frisk's direction. "Does that human look like a sixteen-ish-year-old boy?"

"HMM. NO, IT LOOKS LIKE A HUMAN. BUT! IT SEEMS DELIGHTFUL! THE GREAT PAPYRUS THINKS YOU SHOULD BRING IT BACK HERE WITH YOU. IT'S BEEN TOO LONG SINCE WE HAD A HUMAN TO PILLOW-FIGHT WITH, NYEH-HEH-HEH."

"That's probably not a great idea," Sans remarked.

"NYEH-HEH! WHY NOT?"

"I could spend literally the rest of the night tellin' you all the reasons why not, but the biggest one is that she's the High Priestess, Pap. The other humans would definitely notice if she was gone."

"HIGH PRIESTESS?" Papyrus cocked his head in perplexity. "WHY WOULD A DELIGHTFUL HUMAN BE A HIGH PRIESTESS? DON'T THEY CREATE BARRIERS?"

"It's complicated, bro. Look, I've gotta go soon. Is there anything else you wanna say?"

His younger brother paused, and sighed, shoulders slumping. "SANS. WERE YOU REALLY JUST LOOKING FOR FOOD? WHEN YOU GOT CAUGHT, I MEAN."

The bigger skeleton tried to kick a chunk of ice into the water, his foot passing right through it. "I wasn't slaughtering humans, if that's what you're askin'. I was mostly tryin' to track down monsters who've been sold off recently. But I did want to see how the humans' harvest turned out, an' it looks like it was pretty good this year."

Papyrus nodded, still troubled. "ALL RIGHT, BROTHER. I UNDERSTAND. PLEASE, JUST...TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. NYEH."

"You too, Pap." Sans felt a familiar stab of trepidation and backed away. "Shit, I've got a nightmare coming. I'll see ya soon, okay? Don't tell anyone about Frisk!"

He had to turn and run before Papyrus could answer. Frisk was sitting on the bed in the snow field, ducking snowballs. She turned and started to say, "I hope you weren't telling on m—"

"No more dream! End it now!" he panted.

The priestess didn't waste time asking stupid questions. As the nightmare nipped at Sans' heel, Frisk made a quick swiping gesture, and just like that, he was back in bed, in the bedroom, staring at the sun-washed ceiling.

The skeleton sighed in relief. He rested his forearm across his eyes. Between the radius and ulna, he could see the flickering shadows of birds flying past the open windows. "Thanks, kiddo," he said, "an' thanks for lettin' me talk to him. I really appreciate it." Sans scratched the top of his skull, rolling over to face Frisk. "So, how'd you like Papyrus? He's a cool guy, huh?"

Frisk didn't answer, because she wasn't there. A strange human child sat in the armchair, perched on the edge of the seat, holding a kitchen knife. It stared at him with red-shining eyes, teeth bared in a horrible grin.

If Sans had had more than a shred of magic left, he would have pulled all his blasters at once and obliterated half the building. As it was, he jerked back, nearly choking in terror. The child wasn't moving, but menace radiated off it like heat from a furnace, eyes boring into him as its grin widened. Sans looked around wildly for an escape. The windows were too small, but maybe he could—

A sharp whistle split the air. The barrier snapped on, and the child vanished.

Sans was sitting upright in bed again, in the dark, awake, panting as though he'd run a mile in a few seconds. "Sans, I am so sorry!" The light snapped on. Frisk stood at his bedside, wide-eyed, clutching the neck of her robe. "I didn't think I was going to have that nightmare again before we woke up! I thought it'd be fine, I—" She took a step onto the bed, leaning over to grab his humerus. "Sans? Sans! Please say something!"

He shook her off, and she stumbled backwards, falling into the armchair. "What the fuck was that?" he rasped.

Frisk sat up and pulled her robe tighter around her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she said again. "I should have warned you. It's the reason I have that barrier up in the first place." She swallowed hard. "It shouldn't happen again."

"It better not," Sans snarled. "What the hell was that thing, anyway?"

"I don't know." She looked so miserable that Sans wanted to smack himself, but he was too unnerved to lie and tell her that it was okay; he was shaking so hard that he could almost hear his bones rattle.

For a solid minute, the only other sound in the room was the wind blowing outside the shuttered windows. "I hope you had a good talk with Papyrus," Frisk said presently with a decent attempt at calmness, placing her palm on the bedroom door to dissolve the thick barrier. "I can see why everyone likes him so much. It's good to know he hasn't changed."

The skeleton grunted, hoping she was smart enough not to ask him any questions about him changing. "Yeah. Thanks for fixin' that up for us. Sorry I pushed you just now."

"It's fine. It was an accident." Frisk fiddled with the key in its lock. "You know, Sans, I'd like you to help repair the damage you caused, but...if you still want to leave, I won't stop you. I wasn't thinking of how much it was to ask, staying an entire month."

Sans stared at her. She wouldn't turn around. Finally, he said, "What the crap, lady? You already let me talk to Pap. That was the whole reason I tried to bust out of here. Why wouldn't I stick around 'n make it up to you? Ya really think I'm that bad?"

There came a soft knock at the door, startling them both. "Your Eminence?" It was a male voice, deep and pleasant. "Are you awake, my lady? Please forgive my intrusion, but His Holiness urgently requests your presence."

Daylight was showing through the closed shutters. "Yes, of course. I'll be there in a moment," said Frisk, running her fingers through her hair, eye twitching as she found a tangle.

Sans watched her, and watched her move to unlock the door, feeling a different sort of unease. "Wait a sec," he rumbled. "Frisk, wait. Didn't you bar the big doors last night? How'd he get—"

The man knocked again. "Just a moment," Frisk repeated, turning the key. She glanced behind her. "What, Sans?"

The door banged open. Before she could blink, a stranger in tattered clothes rushed in, his arm raised to strike.

The boss monster was already moving. The man lunged, and there was a sound of steel hitting bone; the priestess found herself staring at the tip of a knife, inches from her face, jutting from between massive skeletal fingers. "Sans!" cried Frisk, twisting around to look at him.

Red clouded Sans' vision, but one clear spot remained: with his free hand, he reached out, corralled Frisk and gently maneuvered her behind him, fingers forming a protective cage. The other hand flexed briefly, then backhanded the intruder so hard that the man rolled clear out of the bedroom, hitting the worktable with a crack and a thump.

The skeleton clamped his teeth on the dagger's hilt and pried the blade out from between his knuckles, jerking his head to fling it to the other side of the bedroom. There was technically nothing to pierce where the knife had been lodged, but it still stung. He glanced down to be sure Frisk was unscathed, then edged forward into the workroom.

To his great irritation, the man wasn't dead; he was not only conscious, but pulling himself up on the table. "Who the fuck are you?" demanded Sans. Only the vague awareness that Frisk was watching kept him from grabbing the guy and pinching his head off.

The stranger wiped the corner of his mouth on his sleeve, squinting against Sans' literal glare. He was gaunt and generally gross-looking, but had moved fast enough and aimed the knife with enough skill to peg him as a professional killer. "What's a big-ass talkin' skeleton doing here? They said you got sold off already!" The assassin laughed shakily. "So it was you bashin' that wall down! What the hell'd you even do that for? It took me all goddamn night to get out!"

Sans glanced at the office door, which was ajar. Several pieces of broken masonry had been moved out of the way by shoving the door repeatedly from the inside. The guy must have snuck into the office after Frisk left, while Sans was in the bedroom but before he blocked the entrance, and gotten trapped in his hiding place by all the debris piled against it.

It would have been kind of funny, except that if Sans really had left, Frisk would be dead now.

The young woman was leaning on Sans' femur, peering around his outspread fingers. He could feel her trembling, which only intensified his urge to kill something. "I know you," she said. "You spoke to me after a service last week. You said I...I..."

"Had a positively angelic voice?" The man leered at her, showing several broken teeth. "S'truth. But I needed to be sure 'xactly who you were. The last High Priestess used body doubles sometimes." He looked her up and down. "Gotta say, I like yours a lot better."

She shuddered. Sans leaned down, not taking his now-flaming eyes from the assassin. "You need this piece of crap alive, Frisk, or can I take 'im apart now?"

"Frisk?" The man cackled, slapping the worktable with a dirty palm. "That's your real name, lady? That's gotta be the dumbest—"

And just like that, he launched himself at Frisk, closing the distance and ducking between Sans' legs like a snake. He whipped another knife out from his belt and would have sliced her neck open if Sans hadn't been ready to nudge her out of the way, grabbing the assassin on the backswing and slamming him against the open door.

Before Frisk could react, Sans turned his head to the opposite wall and said, "Holy crap, what's that?" As she whirled around, Sans plucked the knife out of the man's hand and gave him one squeeze, very quick and very hard. "Whoops, my bad. Nothin' there," he said to cover the sound of ribs breaking.

The priestess started to turn back. "Stay where you are," Sans ordered, pulling the assassin out of her line of sight, stepping into the workroom and closing the door behind him. "Oh, no you don't," he said loudly, as if chasing the man down. "Nooo, stop! We just want to talk to...oh, no!"

The assassin didn't seem to appreciate the theatrics, especially because Sans was carrying him straight to the broken wall. Ignoring the man's feeble protests, the skeleton drew his arm back and murmured, "Now think about what you've done, pal," before tossing him out into the open air.

His only concern was that the bastard would make a lot of noise on the way down, but it seemed he'd knocked the wind out of him, ha. By the time Frisk peeked out of the bedroom, the assassin was long gone.

Sans shook his head and turned from the opening. "Nope. Sorry, I couldn't catch him before he told us who sent him." He wished he had his jacket; his hands had nowhere to go. "You all right, Frisk?"

The priestess gulped and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "No, I'm not." She slid down, back to the wall, and wrapped her arms around her knees.

She didn't seem be physically hurt, so for the moment, he said, "'Kay," and stared at the slightly open office door. "Son of a bitch. I'm gonna tear that guard a new one. D'you think he knew you were sleepin' in there, or was it just a convenient...place to...crap."

Frisk's shoulders had hunched and her face gone pale. Sans ground his teeth, cursing his stupidity. "Well, it's over. He won't bother you again," he reassured her, coming to kneel beside her. "At least that cover story 'bout the assassin ain't a lie now. Right?"

She didn't look reassured at all. With the threat of bodily harm removed, Sans was out of his element again, with no clue how to help her. Should he frame this as an inconvenient but probably solvable problem that she'd always known might come up? No, that would be dumb. She already had enough problems. She didn't need to worry about more shitheads getting in here to hurt her. As long as she was an important and politically vocal person, it wasn't like she could do much to...

Wait. That was it: Sans had the idea. "Actually, ya know what?" He waited for her to shake her head. "You were sayin' this weird stuff about me leaving once I'd seen Pap. Before we talk about that, I gotta ask, what's the going rate for a bodyguard around here? A good one, not just some moron following you around tryin' to look scary."

She bit her lip, a habit Sans had noticed and been distracted by several times already. "Um...it depends. A skilled full-time personal guard? Anywhere from fifty to a hundred dinar—"

"Oh, nice. I can probably—"

"—an hour. I only sleep a few hours a night, so..." Frisk gave him the ghost of a smile. "If you're offering your services, Sans, I'd be glad to accept. Would a salary of one thousand per diem be acceptable?"

Now he really was at a loss for words. "A thousand a friggin' day?" he repeated blankly.

Frisk nodded. Her shock seemed to be fading as she thought aloud: "You could pay for your clothes in one day, and I can negotiate the repairs down to about ten days' worth. After that, well, wheat is about five dinar a bushel." Despite herself, she sniffled again. "You could buy a lot of wheat, or beans, or...or wedding cakes, or literally anything else you want to take Underground with you."

He was patting himself on the back when, without warning, Frisk's smile faded. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before I unlocked the door." Sniff. "Thank you for staying with me." Sniff. "And thank you for saving my life."

Shit shit was as far as Sans got before he lost even that bit of coherence. His senses were already heightened by the unexpected danger, his SOUL still feeling a little queasy at how close she'd come to dying right in front of him; to cap it off with Frisk looking up at him like this with big eyes, messy hair, and her robe falling off her shoulder was more than he could handle. She never looked bad, but right now, damn.

Sans didn't realize he was reaching for her until his fingertip brushed her cheek, toying with a wavy lock of hair. "Don't mention it," he said gruffly. "'s the least I can do."

Frisk pulled away, face flushing, but only in momentary surprise. He devoutly hoped that she'd get up and go get dressed, or maybe pack her things, buy a fast horse and leave the kingdom forever, but that damnable woman didn't know any better than to smile and take his hand, or at least rest her hand in the space between two of his fingers. "Just so long as you keep in mind that you're still my apprentice," she said with mock sternness. "Do you promise?"

Fffffffff

Neither of them understood what happened next. Sans felt something welling up that made him want to grab her and...he didn't know what would happen next, but he wanted it so badly that he backed away in sudden alarm. All he knew was that this feeling – this energy – had to go somewhere, and if he directed it at her, he could accidentally mash her into paste. The only thing he could think of was to whip around, look for something else to latch onto, and focus his attention on the pile of stones, etc. by the office.

His magic was barely available, or so he would have said a minute ago. Fueled by the whatever-it-was, though, and with the barrier gone from one of the walls, Sans didn't even have to think about it: Frisk jumped back as the heap of debris by her office began to glow red, rising into the air and flying into the broken wall. To their mutual astonishment, the outside bricks and internal structures zipped back into place first, followed by more bricks, mortar, stone, wood, and finally the glass and lead of the windows. When the dust settled, the entire facade had been imperfectly but almost entirely restored, the floor sagging under the windows.

Sans stared at his hand, still breathing heavily. "Huh," he said by way of explanation.

"Indeed." Frisk absently ran her fingers through her hair again, working out a tangle as she examined the wall. "Did I know you could do that?"

"I didn't know I could do that." Now that the unfamiliar energy was gone, Sans found he wanted to sit down. He sat down next to her, comfortably but not dangerously close. "Welp, I need a break from life," he said, which got a laugh out of her. He snorted. "Break. I actually didn't mean that one."

Frisk gave a long, long sigh. "We'll knock down your fee to three or four days of repairs," she said gravely.

Sans couldn't help grinning. "I always knew there was mortar life than money."

She kept a straight face until he added, "Makin' it pretty again is gonna be a pane in the glass," whereupon she broke out in hysterical, snorting laughter, which cracked him up in turn and guaranteed a minutes-long feedback loop.

As nice as this all was, Sans was a little concerned when he got under control and she kept going, and going, and ended up nearly gasping for breath. "You okay, kid?" he asked. "Ya need some water?"

"Oh, Lord," she wheezed. Frisk wiped her eyes on her already-damp sleeve. "Sans, you're killing me."

Silence. Frisk thought about it, and promptly buried her head as far between her knees as she could get it. "I didn't do that on purpose," she said, muffled and sheepish.

Sans shifted his weight. He wasn't ready to admit to himself how badly the whole attack had scared him, much less to her. Just to check, he considered escaping again – maybe once she was letting him walk around with her outside and his magic was naturally restored – and now, less than twelve hours after doing his damndest at it, he couldn't believe how much he hated the idea. No problem, really; he could chalk it up to her letting him connect with Papyrus and needing to make it up to her. Also, holy shit, one thousand dinar every day for the next twenty-five days? That was as solid a set of reasons as he'd ever come up with.

"Well," he finally said. "Guess you'd better get yer scary witch dress on and go tell everyone about this whole mess." He snapped his fingers, making an odd click, as something occurred to him. That's right—I got both those knives off him. Maybe someone can take a look at 'em and figure out who he was, where they were from."

Frisk raised her head, staring into space. "No," she said, as if to herself. The boss monster looked askance, and she smiled in a small, nasty way he hadn't seen before. "We won't say anything." The smile grew. "I'll go about my day as if nothing happened, except I'll be accompanied everywhere by a ten-foot skeleton. Whoever set him after me will have no idea what happened, and it'll drive them absolutely mad. We can see if anyone incriminates themselves, but...ohh, I'm going to enjoy this."

"It's a neat idea, but the garbage threw itself out already, remember?" Sans indicated the repaired wall. "Someone's bound to notice 'im."

The young woman did a remarkable impression of shock and distress, eyes wide and mouth hanging open before she murmured, "That poor man jumped from such a height? What a hideous tragedy. Peace be upon his soul and those of his loved ones."

"Daaaamn" was all Sans could say. He might have killed the guy and covered it up, but he couldn't look that cute telling a bare-ass lie! Also... "Ain't you a priestess? Isn't that a little...?"

Frisk scowled. Despite her bedhead and furry robe, she was the very image of sternness and, yes, determination. "I was taught that it is my duty to aid the weak and be an instrument of justice against people who, for example, want to stab me in my own bedroom when I've done nothing to harm them. It's no sin to protect yourself."

The skeleton shrugged, holding his hands out. "Okay, that's enough. I think I love ya. Where do I sign up to kill people for you?"

The priestess laughed. "I bet you say that to every girl you try to escape from. And, please, don't kill anyone." She glanced at the clock, and her amusement melted into panic. "Dirt! I have matins in twenty minutes!" She sprang to her feet and made a beeline for her dressing room. "Can you please find my veil for me?" she called before she shut the door.

Sans also got up, muttering, "'Dirt'? Seriously?" as he retrieved the veil from where it had blown onto the table. As an afterthought, he returned to the bedroom and picked up the assassin's daggers. He studied them, saying out loud, "I think I'm screwed, is what I am," then placed them on the nightstand.

He heard Frisk emerge from her dressing room and went to meet her as she asked, "Sans, do you have my—"

He handed the veil over. "Thank you, sir." She threw the veil over her head and adjusted the headdress over it. "May I assume that you haven't been to many religious services?"

"Er..."

"Well, we have an oral contract, effective immediately, and I am going to church, so you are going to church." She inclined her head, moving toward the double doors. "Follow me."

And, of course, he did.

#frans #onwards aoshima

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cheshiresense · 5 years

Note

For the headcanon thing if I'm not too late. Headcanons for FemIchigo/Kisuke ship?

Lol you didn’t give me an AU? Guess I could throw them in the canon verse but the events wouldn’t be much dif imo. But let’s see how this goes.

Edit: Welp. This got long.

1. Ichigo keeps her hair long because of her mom. Masaki had long hair, and even if it’s not the exact same colour, Ichigo grows her own hair out in her honour, as a reminder of the one time she failed to protect her precious people and just because she’s never met anyone with hair as pretty as her mom’s.

The first time she gets into a serious fight with Shinigami, that dick Renji uses it against her. He grabs her hair, and taunts her with it, and in the end, she kicks his ass, but then his dick boss shows up and just about kills her. When she wakes up at the Shouten, she’s half-naked, wrapped in bandages, and her hair’s been sliced ragged, left in uneven strands around her shoulders where before it had reached her waist. Urahara is nice enough to cut and style it for her. He tells her he only knows how to cut it one way because a good friend of his used to wear her hair short. It’s cute enough, and at the end of the day, Ichigo would much rather keep her life than her hair, but she also locks herself in the bathroom later that night and has a good cry about it. It’s stupid, it’s just hair, it’ll grow back, but it still feels a little like losing her mother all over again. She gives herself twenty minutes, and then she gets her shit together because she has to go save Rukia, and Urahara promised to make her strong enough so she needs to get some sleep more than anything else right now. When she gets back to her room though, the rest of the Shouten is still silent but there’s a tray of tea by her futon, still hot, and too sweet to have been made by Tessai. Ichigo doesn’t even like tea, but it’s a surprisingly kind, amusingly awkward gesture from a man who knows too much and tells her too little. She drinks it all, making a face at the taste but appreciating the warmth that spreads all the way to her fingertips, and when she lies back down and closes her eyes, sleep comes easier this time.

2. Kisuke’s the one who carries her back to the Shouten after she defeats Aizen and subsequently collapses in the aftermath. He thinks it would’ve been easier if she’d been born a boy. She’s tall for her age and gender, but she feels more fragile like this, her shoulders narrower than her usual larger-than-life personality would suggest, her frame less sturdy. Even her bones feel more delicate. Then again, she’s still only sixteen and she’s already lost half her soul in a war she should never have had to fight in the first place, and a good chunk of that blame can be laid squarely at Kisuke’s feet, so maybe boy or girl, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. She’s light enough that Kisuke can carry her without difficulty, but her weight still feels like shackles around his wrists, tied to an anchor at the bottom of the ocean, like the worst of his sins given life, and Kisuke hadn’t ever thought that would be something he’d have trouble bearing until now. But the least he can do is carry her home, so that’s what he does. He takes her back to the Shouten and cleans her up and heals her– it’s a routine he’s uncomfortably familiar with these days. He doesn’t know if she’s ever consciously realized it, but he’s seen her naked enough times to feel like a pervert. He was Onmitsukidou, and he’s seen Yoruichi change in front of him enough times that the female body doesn’t make him blink, but Ichigo’s young - old enough to have developed curves, young enough that his hands shouldn’t be anywhere near her (figuratively or literally) - but there’s nobody else to do it, Yoruichi is always inconveniently away, so Kisuke keeps his eyes and hands well within professional range, runs a bath for her that takes care of most of the dirt and sweat and blood so he only has to make sure she doesn’t drown, and then whisks her off back to bed where he can bandage up what his Kidou can’t heal before settling down to monitor her reiatsu levels.

She remains in a coma for a month. Kisuke is the one who takes care of her, from fresh bedding to sponge baths to IV-fed fluids, even trimming her hair when it starts looking too shaggy (she’s growing it out again, so he doesn’t cut more than what he has to). By the time she opens her eyes, Kisuke’s just relieved she wakes at all, and it doesn’t seem like she’s (physically) much worse for wear so at least his caretaking skills aren’t terrible. All the discomfort in the world can be tolerated if it means Ichigo remains as healthy as she can possibly be.

3. Ichigo doesn’t see or hear from Urahara or any other Shinigami for the next seventeen months, and she tries not to let it get to her. She still sees her human friends at school, even if she’s no longer welcome in a large part of their daily lives, and Shinigami probably don’t think a year and a half is all that long. Besides, at the end of the day, she knew most of her Shinigami acquaintances for a handful of months tops; that’s hardly grounds for eternal friendship. She’s hurt by their absence, but she keeps herself busy with school, with homework, with the part-time job she finds just to fill the hours in-between. She gets good at ignoring the fact that she knows where her friends go after school, knows where her sisters go, and that she can no longer follow them. Urahara doesn’t wear a gigai after all, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to. He probably has better things to do too now that the war is over and Ichigo has done her duty.

So it’s been seventeen months of mind-numbing (soul-wrenching) monotony, and then she gains a stalker. She would never have chased that thief down if she had known Ginjou Kuugou was so… greasy. She doesn’t just mean his hair either; everything about him oozes an oily sort of charm that sets off every alarm bell her mom drilled into her head about Stranger Danger, Female Edition, and it becomes clear very quickly that Ginjou is exactly the sort of man who just won’t take no for an answer. He follows her around, flirts like he thinks she finds him attractive, keeps inviting her out for a meal, even tracks her down at work, and Ichigo’s just about had it with him after he “bumps” into her while she’s walking home from doing the grocery-shopping, because she may not be a Shinigami anymore but she sure as hell still knows how to defend herself and kick a creep in the balls when he dares to sling a too-proprietary arm around her waist, as if he has any right.

As it turns out though, she doesn’t have to. Ginjou gets about half a second to touch her, still blathering on about having something interesting to show her if she lets him treat her to some ramen, and then he’s being ripped away from her, abruptly enough to tear a shout from him, and Ichigo spins around just in time to see Urahara twist Ginjou’s arm behind him at a painful-looking angle before slamming him face-first into a nearby wall.

Ichigo doesn’t think she’s ever seen Urahara so… openly violent before. She can’t stop staring for a long moment, because that casual, effortless strength is… not something Ichigo would mind seeing again. If nothing else, it’s clearly effective (and pointedly ignores the voice that says she isn’t staring because it’s effective). The look on his face though is positively serene, if you don’t count the ominous shadow that his hat is somehow casting over his eyes.

“I do believe Kurosaki-san has asked you to stop harassing her,” the shopkeeper says in tones so airily cheerful only an idiot would buy the act. Ginjou doesn’t reply anyway. He can’t. Urahara’s yanked his arm up high enough to let him simultaneously choke the life out of the guy, his hand about as movable as stone as it pins Ginjou’s wrist to the back of his neck and his neck to the brick wall.

“Hey,” Ichigo says, and then stops, because on one hand, this guy probably doesn’t deserve to be straight-up murdered, but also if anyone in Ichigo’s life can kill a human and make the corpse disappear, it would be Urahara.

But Urahara glances at her, then shrugs a little and releases Ginjou, only to knock him over the head with his cane, hard enough to send him crumpling to the ground in an unconscious heap. There’s a moment of silence after that, and then Ichigo remembers to be irritated because she’s no one’s damsel in distress. “I could’ve handled him, you know.”

It comes out sharper than even she intends, but the sight of him reminds her of how long she hasn’t seen him or any of her other Shinigami friends, and it’s hard to remain mature about it when one of them is suddenly right in front of her again. Urahara, because he’s Urahara, just rakes a too-discerning eye over her like he can see right through her annoyance to the root of it. His expression tightens with something Ichigo can’t name, but all he does is incline his head in acknowledgement even as he smiles in a way that makes her want to punch him. “Of course, Kurosaki-san, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t interfere?”

Ichigo gives him the flat unimpressed look that deserves, Urahara’s smile twitches into something more genuinely amused, and for a second, it almost feels as if no time at all has passed since the last time they’d shared an actual conversation. Then Ginjou groans, Ichigo bristles irritably, and Urahara’s smile fades.

“Kurosaki-san,” He calls out before Ichigo can do more than turn away. “There are some things you need to know. But perhaps we can take this off the streets first? Come back to my Shouten; I will explain everything there.”

Ichigo turns back, scowling suspiciously at the blond, then down at greasy stalker. Great. She should’ve known; of course it would be Shinigami business that actually dragged Urahara out of his shop and into his first interaction with Ichigo after seventeen months of radio silence. But… if Urahara is willing to explain just what greasy stalker wanted to drag her into, Ichigo would be an idiot to turn him down.

“Fine,” She grumbles. “I’m using your fridge though. I’ve got ice-cream in here and it’s gonna melt before I get home at this rate.”

Urahara beams at her and hefts greasy stalker over his shoulder before ushering her to the Shouten. True to his word, he tells her about the Fullbringers who’ve invaded Karakura, and he tells her that the Shinigami have been monitoring the situation, and then he tells her he has a way to return her powers and soul-spirits to her. He shows her the sword, engraved with a bunch of intricate symbols she can’t even begin to decipher, and it thrums with so much power even she can feel it. She has a sudden epiphany that it must’ve taken even a genius like Urahara quite a while to make something like this, because she’d asked around, before she’d lost the ability to see Shinigami, and she knows for a fact that fixing her soul should’ve been impossible. The realization that Urahara must’ve been working on this for the past seventeen months goes a long way to soothing any fair or unfair feelings she had towards him, even if she also thinks he could’ve just told her. But she thinks that, and then she thinks that Urahara probably didn’t because he hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up for nothing. It’s stupid, but so is the way he eases the sword through her chest as gently as possible, as if it makes a difference at all when that first jolt of foreign reiatsu to her system still hurts like a bitch. She thinks she can forgive stupidity though if it’s coming from him. Not that she’ll ever tell him that.

In the aftermath, the Fullbringers disappear one by one, and nobody says anything but an increasingly manically cheerful Urahara gets a lot of wary side-eyes from the Shinigami trooping through Karakura over the next couple of weeks. It’s Rukia (Rukia who never so much as passed on a how-are-you, and Ichigo doesn’t blame her, but she’s never going to forget it either) who tells her later about Urahara kneeling in front of all the Gotei’s captains and lieutenants and begging them to help, who bowed his head through the Captain-Commander’s orders to keep the sword back until a powerless Ichigo has drawn out all the Fullbringers, only to immediately disobey as soon as he got the reiatsu he needed from them.

Ichigo asks, of course, just once, why. True to form, Urahara doesn’t give her a straight answer, he shrugs and lies instead, “Well it isn’t as if there’s anything else they can do to little old me in exile, is there?” But for just a moment, he also looks directly at Ichigo, his gaze steady and calm and unyielding, like there was never anything else he could’ve done, like choosing Ichigo over the Gotei was a decision made as easily as he breathed.

Much, much later, looking back, Ichigo thinks maybe that was the moment she first fell just a little bit in love.

4. Somewhere between the Quincy War and Yoruichi and Tessai moving back to Soul Society and the kids deciding they want to experience high school and normal life at the Kurosaki household, Kisuke wakes up one morning to Ichigo cooking breakfast in his kitchen and realizes he’s sharing a house with a twenty-year-old college student whose Gargantas make for the easiest commute to and from school in the history of public transportation. He stands in the doorway for a long minute, just watching her go through the motions that have become routine at the Shouten for… months now. Ever since he survived the war by the skin of his teeth and ended up half-blind because Benihime is only a quick, crude fix when Kisuke doesn’t know the exact makeup of whatever he’s restructuring. He’d had to study that, and then get some hands-on practice, before finally re-restructuring his eyes one more time. Ichigo had been a big help. Kisuke had had difficulties reading, along with dizzy spells and crippling headaches, so even though she didn’t understand everything, she also spent long hours with him, reading out loud and taking down notes for him, cooking for him and keeping his house clean and even manning the shopfront for him when Tessai was busy with the Kidou Corps. And then, once he was better… well, apparently she’d just never moved back out, and Kisuke had liked the company (has always liked her company) that he’d obliviously taken her presence here for granted.

She turns around now, probably sensing him. Her hair’s almost as long as it used to be back when they’d first met, but she’s tied it up into a messy bun. She’s still in pajama pants and one of his shirts because she likes the larger size and she keeps stealing them and Kisuke doesn’t mind, he has more than enough.

Maybe he should’ve minded.

“Hey,” Ichigo greets around a stifled yawn. “Food’s almost done. Could you set the table?”

Kisuke makes an agreeable noise and starts pulling down tableware from the cupboards. The coffee’s also done so he pours a mug, and then prepares the tea with the water that’s just finished boiling. Five minutes later, they’re seated around the table, Ichigo grumbling memorized literature quotes into her coffee because she has finals next week, and Kisuke just… watches her. They’ve thrown the porch doors open because it’s summer and the morning breeze is nice. Ichigo has her back to it, and the sunrise that frames her head like a halo gilds her bright hair gold. When she finally sets her coffee down, she looks up and catches his eye, and even as her eyebrows go up in an unspoken question, the smile that blooms across her face at the same time is as much a reflex as it is genuine, like the mere sight of him is something to be happy about, and Kisuke is helpless to do anything but smile back.

Shit, he thinks, far too late. I’m definitely going to hell.

5. “I’m definitely going to hell,” he moans into the table. Yoruichi, because she is first and foremost a terrible best friend, is too busy laughing at him to console him. At least she came prepared with the sake when he called her in a panic once Ichigo had left for class.

“Took you long enough,” Yoruichi chortles, like this isn’t a Big Problem. “Tessai thought for sure you’d realize she’s practically your wife-” Kisuke winces. “-when she went off to college and still went back to the Shouten every night. But I’ve known you longer so I figured it would take you a while before it clicked.”

“We are roommates,” He hisses vehemently, downing another cup of alcohol before pouring himself some more. “I’ve never- Yoruichi-san, I would never- I wouldn’t-”

“Well that was obvious too,” Yoruichi snorts, but her gold eyes are suddenly a lot less amused a lot more focused, acute and unblinking on his face. “But you know, if she’s old enough to kill for you, then she’s old enough to fuck.”

Kisuke freezes, and then straightens, and he has never looked at Yoruichi the way he does now, but there’s ice in his veins and a knot of flash-fire rage and black-fanged guilt clawing up his gut, and he couldn’t stop the crass words if he wanted to, “She was old enough to kill for me at fifteen; was she old enough to fuck then too?”

Yoruichi doesn’t even flinch, just pins him with a burning look sharp enough to cut. “Well you didn’t wanna fuck her then, did you? But she’s an adult now, and she can make her own choices, and I know you suck at human-ing so I’m gonna go ahead and give you a piece of advice in advance and hopefully save everyone a lot of needless drama - in general, people don’t like it when you make decisions for them because you think you know better. So before you panic even more and start pushing her away ‘for her own good’ but really actually because you freaked out about having feelings, maybe, just maybe, ask her what she wants.” She grins like a tiger that has its prey cornered. “Ichigo’s not stupid. Even I don’t know if she knows about your gigantic crush yet, she’s surprisingly closed off about personal issues, but let me just remind you, Kisuke - she didn’t sit at my bedside, or Shinji’s, or even Rukia’s, after the war, and you know full we were all laid out for days, if not from injuries then exhaustion.” She leans forward and snags the front of his Shihakushou to give him a hard shake. “Are you listening to me, Kisuke? She cares about you, and you care about her, and I have not seen you this happy in a very, very long time.” She glares at him, daring him to argue. “Even if nothing comes from this, even if you just stay friends, don’t you dare fuck this up for yourself. You’ve got a good thing here. She’s good for you, and she makes you happy. And it’s not a crime to be happy, Kisuke.”

She lets him go. Kisuke doesn’t move for a long minute, and this time, Yoruichi waits him out. “…What if I’m not good for her though?”

Yoruichi clicks her tongue and reaches for her own sake again, limbs going feline-languid once more. “That’s for her to decide. She’s got a decent head on her shoulders, Kisuke; if you really were poison for her like you seem to think you are every damn turn of the moon, she would’ve dropped you a long time ago.” She pauses to take a swig, and then she kicks him under the table hard enough to make him yelp. “Now quit being a coward, drink your damn sake, and then go home and be disgustingly domestic with your roommate when she gets back. And if after all this crap you put me through, you still end up hurting her, I’m gonna tell Kuukaku, and she’ll make you wish you were just dead.”

Kisuke thinks about that for a moment, remembers some of the antics Kuukaku used to get up to with Yoruichi, and internally cringes. “Right,” he sighs. Yoruichi rolls her eyes at him, and he sighs again. Well, he supposes he should’ve known better than to get any sympathy from Yoruichi. He also mulls over what she’s said though, and… well. If nothing else, Ichigo’s choices are her own. Kisuke’s manipulated her into a war once already. He can’t - he won’t - do it to her again, for anything.

He downs the last of his alcohol and this time dares to hope.

6. They never actually sit down and lay all their cards on the table and talk about it. It’s not in either of their natures; Ichigo prefers actions, and ninety percent of Kisuke’s words have always been used to deflect and manipulate. But, for Ichigo, the Shouten becomes home. She never moves out (and yes, she knew what she was doing when she packed up most of her belongings and carted them over to the shop), and at first, it was just to help because Kisuke was so badly injured from the war, but the longer she stayed, the harder it was to think about leaving again for good. When Kisuke hadn’t said anything even after he’d fully recovered, she took it as permission to stay, and of course that didn’t do anything to make her like him less. She enjoys his company, likes reading in his labs while he fiddles with his experiments, likes surprising him with new recipes, likes being surprised when he modifies or creates yet another Kidou spell for her monstrous levels of reiatsu so that it won’t blow up when she tries it. She likes that he always tucks her into bed if she falls asleep at her desk studying, and she likes that he trusts her enough to walk around without wearing his hat all the time. She likes that between her strength and adaptability and his creativity and cunning, they’re more or less evenly matched in a spar, and the harder she pushes him, the more thrilled he gets at having to work for his victories. She likes that he comes home one day with something both new and still familiar in his eyes when he looks at her, and a month later, on her birthday, he takes her halfway across the world to a rare book convention with a focus on Shakespeare, and halfway through that, his hand swings out to tangle her fingers with his own.

They never really talk about it, but Ichigo migrates into his bedroom one night and never sleeps in her own room again. They take things slow, honestly more for Kisuke’s benefit than her own, but she doesn’t mind because mostly, she just likes having Kisuke there, with her. He still treats her like glass sometimes, like something priceless he’s afraid to smudge just by touching it. Those days, Ichigo sprawls across him with all her weight and stays there until he wraps himself more firmly around her, usually dozing off while Ichigo works on a draft of her first book.

They don’t talk about it. But they don’t have to, to know what they mean to each other.

#headcanon meme: answered #bleach #uraichi #urahara kisuke #kurosaki ichigo #fem ichigo #fandommaniac2401 #headcanon

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shimmershae · 3 years

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Just watched the episode and I’m going to have a lot of thoughts for you, most of them probably bordering on incoherence (LOL) so this is your last chance to nope on out of this post because I’m going to go ahead and put everything else behind a cut to save the eyes that do not want to see any spoilers at all. Unlike mine, that very much wanted to see but in a lot of cases? Could not see shit, but I digress.

Shae’s stream of consciousness coming at you in 3-2-1.

First of all, can I saw how good it is to have my show back again? Like, no. I don’t quite have Season 5 levels of excitement about the new/last season, but it is definitely nice to have all these characters back.

So all these thoughts of mine. Okay. Bear with me because there be a whole lot of them, lol.

My immediate impression as the episode opened was WHOA. Such a cool shot of Daryl with one light wing, one dark wing (representing the two sides to Daryl maybe--the man of honor versus the man he was raised to be, hmm?) looking out over some dark vista of something. Seriously. It’s dark. My room is also dark at the moment and still I was squinting to see. To make out what I’m “looking” at. I really, really hope the rest of this season isn’t this hard to make out.

Is that a tank? Kinda sorta a callback to Rick’s first episode? If so, cool. If not, well. Us fans have always put way more thought into things. For real. Change my mind.

Holy intense eye contact, Batman! Daryl Dixon has literally never looked at anyone--not BethusConLeah--in quite the same smoldering way as he looks at Carol. It’s next level. I don’t know why people be fooling themselves into thinking different.

Let’s see. I can make out--besides Daryl, Maggie, and that face mask dude I already forgot the name of--Kelly, Magna, Jerry (who’s that with him?), and Carol. Sorry. My world, like Daryl’s, inevitably narrows to Carol. She’s loking fierce and fine AF per usual.

Was that Rosita I noticed rewinding to relive Daryl eye-fucking Carol?

I’m guessing this is the army base they talked about in 10C.

That Walker perking up like “I smell food--pancakes and bacon and oohhhh” has me giggling inappropriately right off the bat. WTF.

Look at all my fabulous ladies tiptoeing through that Walker minefield. And Carol spotting that gun that might be useful right away. Listen, if you don’t think her mind ain’t always ten steps ahead of everybody else’s, you’d be wrong.

So. Are these Walkers just so old and feeble not even the call of fresh meat attracts them? Because just tiptoeing through their midst without the knockoff Lady Gaga meatsuits or skin masks has never really worked before that I can remember.

I just want to see most of this season. Is that really too much to ask? Don’t X-Files and Game of Thrones us, Angela. Please and thank you very fucking much.

Okay. Is the one drop of blood thing making anybody else have 28 Days Later vibes? Kinda? Sorta? No? Just me? Okay then. Carry on.

Wait a minute, though. How they be explaining how Daryl keeeps acquiring all these new tats all the time? Hmm? It’s like they just quit giving a shit about continuity in these latter seasons.

I mean. Do Walkers sleep now? LMAO. What is this? I guess they’re constantly evolving?

There’s my baby Lydia. Love my smol bean.

Alright though. I love to see the ladies of TWD kick some ass. It’s very gratifying. Gimps would never. Thank you, Angela.

Clever, resourceful, calm and collected, quick thinking Carol to the rescue! Seriously. Her haters must be withering away inside with absolute envy.

Hey, ya’ll. Remember when Carol was still mastering her sharpshooting skills at the Prison yard and shot at Rick’s feet? Her little “sorry, sorry”? LOL. If Rick could only see her now. Wait. He already knew what so many of his stans refuse to acknowledge--Carol=ultimate survivor and true savior to the group many times over.

Maggie’s got herself a gun, too. Go my badass girls.

Of course, Carol’s got everybody’s back. Of fucking course, Daryl’s got hers even when everybody else seem frozen in some kind of awe or stupification or something. Microcosm of the whole damn show right there.

Carol’s like “here’s your knives, love of my life.”

Eh. Maybe that’s just me.

Nah. She’s totally thinking it, too.

YAS! YAS! Norman Reedus and Melissa McBride with the top billing. How very far my babies have come.

Listen. I miss all the characters we’ve lost. Absolutely. But I love the ones that are still with us, that have been with us for so very long so hard. Whether I love their stories or decisions or not.

Is that THE Alexandria sign? That sign’s been through some shit.

DOG! Daryl kneeling to embrace our Grimes babies has me all up in my feels. And how cute is Dog getting all excited and making sure he’s the first one there to welcome back, Daddy?

Hershel is literally just as puppy dog cute as Glenn ever was. Really some Grade A casting.

What did Maggie call Mr. T? Ducky? Dougie? Sometimes with Maggie? I really cannot tell. Anyway. He’s Mr. T. for me until I find out differently, probably through rewatching with close captioning, lol.

Maggie’s got more people. So. Some new redshirts to sacrifice for plot purposes. I don’t know if I should bother learning their names or not.

I seem to remember Meridian being mentioned in one of the episode synopses.

Sophia’s hair tie around Carol’s neck will never fail to be an emotional throat punch. My heart.

“They come at night and by the time you see them, you’re already dead.” Welp. Guess that means we ain’t seeing shit for at least this first third of the season, lol. Very horror-eque though.

“You’re leaving to fight ghosts.” Aaron, to Maggie. So I see Aaron’s the type to get the hell outta Dodge when the Boogeyman comes calling, hahaha. Least he was. In the old world.

Rosita’s pissed off expression at Gabe’s decision to volunteer for the so-called suicide mission gives me life.

My baby Carol is tired AF of suicide missions. You can tell. Also? Methinks she has something to prove to Daryl here. Or at least feels like she does.

Dog with his little tactical vest. I love it.

I guess I get why they had Carol and Rosita stay behind. They had to more evenly split up the badassery to make things more fair and balanced, lol.

Okay. So Negan’s definitely earned everybody’s disdain. But they’re being woefully short-sighted by not at least hearing the dude out. Isn’t he at least native to the area?

“That is God telling us to turn around.” I’m actually on Negan’s side with this one, but Gabe answering him with “I’m pretty sure he would have run that past me first” has me howling with laughter. Father Gabe has gone straight up savage in these last couple of seasons. Rosita’s influence, perhaps?

I see what Angela is doing. Trying to make Negan the voice of reason. In this particular case? It’s kind of working. I’m still ultimately on Maggie’s side with this though BECAUSE GLENN.

Imagine showing up to work and unironically dressing like a storm trooper every day. Excuse me while I LOL.

Even in the ZA, there’s bullshit paperwork.

“Pumpkin colored spacesuit.” Good one, Ezekiel.

LOL forever. I love Princess.

“Michonne. Our Michonne shut people out of Alexandria for years.” Timely reminder that choices aren’t always perfect. Neither are people.

WTF is reprocessing? Sounds ominous. LMAO at Eugene’s “Okay. We gotta go.”

What in the actual hell with all those bagged, squirming undead? Creepy AF in that subway tunnel.

Should I just go ahead and call that the Easter bunny? We’ve had some version of it pop up since Season 1.

Is it stubborn pride with Maggie or what? Why go through with something when all signs point toward the wisdom of stopping? You can argue that she’s acting similarly to Carol last season, but there’s a huge difference here folks. Carol did her damndest to Lone Wolf that shit and minimize the danger to those she loved. Maggie’s straight up enlisting those she “cares about” to carry out her mission of revenge or vengeance, what have you. Let’s see if she gets near the amount of hate for it. Personally, I don’t blame her for her feelings one bit. They are valid. But her knowingly drawing the others into the game? That’s my sticking point. That’s how she and Carol differ, even if some people refuse to see or accept it. Anyway. Hopping right on off my soapbox.

“Why don’t you get up on your little tippy toes and try?” Omigosh, I’d dying. When I tell you I about passed out with laughter, I do not exaggerate. I should hate Negan forever and I do. Really. But I adore JDM and he frequently makes me LOL. He’s made Negan entertaining if not completely redeemable since Angela took over and more layered so I say kudos.

He has a point about Maggie playing dictator. Damn you, show, for slanting the writing just that smidgen that makes Negan make sense over his victim. I guess, though, it’s better this way. Gives both characters more shades of gray.

“He’s a dick but he makes sense.” I feel like this is Angela calling us all out when we dare to harbor any lasting resentment toward Negan for what he did to Glenn.

Speaking of--Negan. You deserved Daryl’s punch to the mouth. You just went a bridge too damn far.

“Keep pushing me, Negan. Please.” Warning shots fired, Asshole. You better watch yourself around the Widow Rhee.

Have I mentioned how much I love Princess? Her shipping the Commonwealth guards is killing me, lol. I can’t wait ‘til she meets Carol and Daryl. She’s going to have their number in two seconds flat.

I like Ezekiel and Princess as a duo. I’m not saying romantically necessarily. I just like them in scenes together because they’re fun. There’s sort of a protective indulgence Ezekiel seems to telegraph whenever they’re in scenes together. Like he’s like don’t hurt this one. I don’t know. For all these words I’ve written, I can’t quite find the ones to adequately describe what I mean.

The wall of the lost gives me such Battlestar Galactica feels. What sad thoughts it inspires.

Eugene in that Commonwealth gear. Omigosh, lol. So did they just sneak up and take Princess’s little Commonwealth ship’s gear when they were sneaking off on their own to have a quickie?

Princess finding that note for Yumiko on the wall actually gave me chills. Yeah. I’m easy. Just the suggestion of someone getting reunited with lost family gets me all up in my feels. Yumiko saying “I have to stay”? I felt that.

Oh no. Dog ran off! Somebody protect my favorite fictional puppy. Of course, Daryl goes after him. He’s always been the sweet one. Merle said it.

Eh. Negan taking Maggie’s hand at the end there would have smacked too much of Negan Sue and Maggie’s biggest plot of the season would have been prematurely dealt with so I get why they did what they did. But c’mon. It’s not really that big of a cliffhanger, is it?

Okay, so Angela calls those sleeping beauty Walkers “Lurkers” and I get it. Apparently they’re a bigger deal in the comics, but I really don’t remember seeing them all that much on the actual show. Somebody jog my memory.

Of fucking course, you can actually see what’s happening in the inside the episode clips. I wish we could choose to view the episode with that lighting because some of us be blind. And this time I mean in the more literal sense. Not the figurative one.

Anyway. I’m going to stop trying to write a novel for ya’ll and move on to better things. Like maybe a nap. Maybe some early dinner. I don’t know. I’m tired AF and need a little recharge.

Before I go, though? Overall impression of the episode? I liked it. There were parts that I loved (all the ladies being badass, every second of Carol, Daryl reuniting with the Grimes babies and Dog, all things Princess, some of Negan’s one-liners about had me busting a gut, Rosita serving looks, Kelly and Lydia getting to be badass too) and parts I didn’t love (not being able to see a damn thing, Angela trying to tip the scales in Negan’s favor, not enough Carol or Aaron or Rosita, no reunion between Aunt Carol and the Grimes babies even though that picture floating around suggests it was at least shot, not being able to see a damn thing, all the Alexandria people playing follow the leader for Maggie when she’s been gone 6 years and Daryl’s right there--hell, even Father G deserves the honor over her because it’s obvious they’re not exactly on the same wavelength anymore).

I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m just glad to have our show back.

Later, lovelies.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #spoilers #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #and giggle and giggle

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