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jingabitch · 4 years

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Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell ch.4

SUMMARY: when you were ten, taehyung adopted you and gave you a home. now that you’re eighteen, the sudden change in your scent perplexes and confounds him.

PAIRING: wolf hybrid!tae x human!reader (all bts members are hybrids)

WORD COUNT: 10.5k

RATING: explicit

A/N: again, I am a liar because this story is still not complete. nevertheless, i hope you guys enjoy this!

I don’t do tag lists, so please don’t ask.

Also, shoutout to my wonderful betas @knjkitten and @seoul9711 for going over this for me! yall are the greatest 💕

series index

Spring means spring showers. Usually that’s something Taehyung kind of enjoys, because it means the weather is getting warmer, and who doesn’t love curling up in bed on rainy mornings (or afternoons, or evenings)?

This spring, though, is different. The boys, after hearing Taehyung shamefully confess that he’d kicked you out, assuming that you’d head right over to one of them, had immediately torn into him for being an irresponsible owner. They were especially upset because he hadn’t told them the entire story, ashamed to let them know that he’d started a sexual relationship with his pet human and not ready to talk about the whole imprinting debacle. To them, he’d simply lost his cool over something petty and done something stupid.

Then they’d organized and strategized, planning to comb through Seoul to try and find you. It was a good thing that all of them were predator hybrids, with enhanced abilities to sniff you out. This rain, though… it was making things difficult, washing away your residual scent. It was bad enough that they were trying to track you two weeks after you’d gone missing, but it had been consistently raining this whole time, and that meant it would be next to impossible to track you down using your scent.

Spring showers meant another problem: no one was picnicking if it was raining. Well, it wasn’t like there were many anyway since it was still cold out – the boys assured you that during summer, they came in hordes – but between the tents and rented heaters, there were still people who came out sometimes, just to spend a little time outdoors once in a while. Hybrids were made sturdy, after all, and weren’t as susceptible to the cold as humans.

It was another week before Taehyung got to Hangang Park. A week of combing through every street, back alley and underground pass in the part of Seoul that he’d been assigned. At the very edge of Seoul, Hangang Park was one of the last places that they hadn’t looked and hope that they would find you was running low. You could be anywhere by now, perhaps having begged a ride or train ticket to another city even.

In the week that they’d been out looking for you, you’d been spending a lot of time inside with the boys. Since it was cold, all of you tended to huddle together in a puppy pile that was uncomfortably reminiscent of the big snuggle fests you’d enjoyed in the past with Taehyung and his bandmates. All the free time that all of you had meant that you spent a lot of time engaging in the only fun thing homeless poor people could afford, and you’d more than once thought sardonically that since you weren’t getting much food, it was a good thing you were getting so much protein.

After all that time spent apart, your reunion with Taehyung was almost anticlimactic. You’d squirmed free of Youngbae and Jiyong, who were currently napping, to go use the public restroom. When you were done, you were drying your hands on your shirt while walking out of the little hut that housed the toilets when you saw him. Or at least, someone who looked suspiciously like him from the back. He was wearing one of Taehyung’s favourite shirts, too, a long-sleeved silk button-down that you’d taken to and from the dry cleaners many times before.

For a second, it felt like time had stopped as you stared at the wide expanse of the man’s back. It took you back to a time that really wasn’t that long ago, but seemed like a different lifetime. So much had changed about you, and your life, and the way you lived.

Then the man started turning around and you realized that it was, indeed, Taehyung. Needless to say, you couldn’t leave quickly enough. You didn’t know why he was here, but you definitely didn’t want him seeing how low you’d sunk now. Swearing inwardly, you darted off, back to the tent behind a convenience store that was now your home.

When Taehyung first scented you, he almost thought he was hallucinating. It was just so unlikely to him that you would be here, of all places, when he’d all but lost hope of finding you ever again. It wasn’t until he turned around that he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a figure running away, and realized that it was, indeed, you. Immediately, he gave chase, yelling your name so you’d turn around.

Instead, you just ran faster, practically diving back into the tent where the other boys were and zipping it up tight. Daesung stirred, holding a hand out to you. “What’s up?” he slurred. You took his hand and cuddled close to his side, not sure how to explain things and just hoping that Taehyung would leave. Why was he here, anyway? He should be busy right now with promoting their comeback album; it wasn’t a good time for the band to be picnicking.

“Y/n!” Taehyung was standing right outside the tent now, and you closed your eyes stubbornly, tucking your face into Daesung’s chest. He’d been absently stroking your hair, but when he heard Taehyung, he propped himself up on his elbow.

“It sounds like someone’s looking for you,” he pointed out rather unnecessarily, raising a brow at you. You rolled your eyes at him in response.

“Y/n, please, let’s go home!” Taehyung continued, and you groaned, turning onto your belly and burying your face in your hands.

Jiyong, who was famously grouchy when he woke up, snarled as he unzipped the tent. “Who are you, and what the fuck do you want?!” he growled.

Taehyung blinked, slightly surprised at the hostility. “Uh, is Y/n-ssi here?” In the unexpected situation, his speech became polite.

Seunghyun came up behind Jiyong, frowning. He’d developed something of a soft spot for you – well, as much as was possible, anyway, when all of you were scrounging for survival. “What’s it to you?” he asked rudely.

“Uh, I’d like to speak to her, if possible?”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you objected. You had no interest in anything he could say to you at this point. Was he here to scream at you again? That seemed like overkill, all things considered, but since there was nothing else you could imagine, it remained the most likely scenario in your mind. You didn’t want him seeing you like this, either. If he was going to hate you, you’d rather he at least remember you the way you’d been as a pet, not as a homeless stray.

“Y/n, please.” The tone of his voice gave you pause – it was weary and sad, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't stop yourself from wanting to comfort him. You'd spent half your life attuned to his every need and it was difficult to turn that off suddenly.

With a reluctant sigh, you pushed past Jiyong and Seunghyun, who were blocking the entrance. "What is it?" you asked. You tried not to make eye contact with Taehyung - he'd always been perceptive, and you didn't want him staring into your soul again, afraid of what he might find there.

“Y/n… please come home,” Taehyung pleaded. With you standing in front of him, he could see properly the toll that the past three weeks had on you. You’d lost a lot of weight and your jawline was sharper than it had ever been, you looked tired and messy, your skin was starting to break out due to lack of proper nutrition and access to skincare products, and you smelled… not that great, which wasn’t a surprise since you’d had about two showers in the last three weeks.

Still, you crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly and looked away. “I don’t want to,” you objected. You could still hear his harsh words ringing in your ears, but more than that, the shame you felt at encouraging your unusual relationship when you should have stopped it was weighing heavily on you, and you didn’t want to go back and face that.

“Y/n-ie, please? I know I was mean and awful, and I’m sorry about that. Please come home,” he tried again, but you refused to even look at him.

“Stop it, leave me alone,” you whispered, hugging yourself protectively.

Finally, his shoulders slumped. He couldn’t handle being the cause of your distress anymore, even if he did think that you would be better off back at home with him. “Okay,” he accepted, his voice quiet and dejected. “I’ll go if that’s what you really want, but you’re welcome to come home any time, okay?”

You nodded stiffly, waiting for him to leave.

When he turned away disappointedly and walked off, you turned back to the boys to find all four of them staring at you. “What?” you asked slightly defensively.

“Who was that, baby?” Youngbae asked.

“Uh, it was my previous owner.”

“And he wanted to take you home?”

“Uh, yeah?” More uncertainly this time, not sure where they were going with this.

“And you said no?” Jiyong butted in incredulously.

You shrank in on yourself at the volume and tone of his voice. “I don’t want to go back with him,” you almost whimpered, your hands bunching up the fabric of your shirt anxiously.

“Baby… why not?” Seunghyun asked.

Your mind stalled. You didn’t want to tell them the real reason, afraid that they would look at you differently or even kick you out of their group. “We… had a fight,” you said rather vaguely instead.

“And you’re still mad at him? Did he do something wrong?”

“Yes, he kicked me out,” you said pointedly. Wasn’t that enough?

“Baby… he clearly feels bad about that if he came to ask you to go home,” Daesung pointed out reasonably.

“That doesn’t change the fact that he kicked me out,” you grumbled petulantly. “What if he does it again? Then I’ll end up right back here.”

“And what if you do?” Seunghyun asked. “Even if he kicks you out again in a week, that’s a week that you get to spend with a roof over your head, and access to food and water.”

You blinked at Seunghyun. Out of all the things he could have said, that wasn’t really what you’d thought he would say, but it made sense somehow. Living on the streets was difficult. You hadn’t had a hot meal in three weeks, and even though the hunger pangs kept the nausea at bay, picking at hybrids’ half-eaten food wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time.

It must seem so shallow and ridiculous to these boys, who’d been living on the streets all their lives, that there was someone offering you a perfectly good home and you didn’t want it. Why? Because of your feelings? Ultimately, did that matter? You began to doubt yourself and your reasoning, wondering if you were being silly.

Still, your mind wouldn’t stop replaying the memories of Taehyung forcibly kicking you out of his house, and you gnawed on your lip uncertainly. Would it really be okay?

“Sweetie, it seems like there’s something more keeping you from wanting to go back.” Youngbae, ever the astute one, guessed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head slowly. It might seem tempting, but you didn’t know how they would react to hearing about your sexual relationship with your hybrid owner. You’d lost enough; you didn’t want to lose your new family too, especially when their protection was all that was keeping you from being out on the streets alone. The memory of the two nights you’d spent wandering around the streets of Seoul, lost and alone, were enough to keep your mouth shut out of caution and fear.

“That’s fair, but is it worth living like this?” he asked, gesturing towards the tent where the five of them had been living practically on top of each other.

“You live like this,” you objected. “We’ve been fine, haven’t we?” you continued, a little more uncertainly now. Were they just too polite to tell you that they were tired of you and wanted you to leave?

All of them exchanged glances, before turning back towards you, serious expressions on their faces. “Y/n… any blind fool can tell that you’re not made for this life,” Seunghyun began. “The rest of us were born on the streets and we know how to handle ourselves.”

“I know how to handle myself,” you protested, your hackles rising. Hadn’t you been doing your part to contribute to the group? Thinking about it too hard made you feel a little unsettled, like you were about to be booted out of another family, so you tilted your chin upwards in defiance.

Daesung stepped in, ever the peacemaker. “You’ve been doing really well, sweetie, but all of us can see how difficult this is for you,” he pointed out.

“What- what do you mean?”

“Well… your soft hands that have clearly never done heavy lifting, your fussiness about food, your general demeanor…” Jiyong started listing things that all of them had noticed over the past couple of weeks, only stopping when Seunghyun nudged him to be quiet.

“The point is… this life is clearly not suitable for you,” Seunghyun explained. “And even if things are bad between you and your owner right now, he’s willing to make an effort, and it seems like going back with him is the best thing for you.”

You bit your lip. “You really think so?”

“I think if you have to eat any more cold ramen noodles you’ll kill yourself,” Jiyong said dryly, and your cheeks heated, remembering the day that all you had to eat was cold, congealed half-eaten instant noodles. You thought you’d covered up your distaste, but apparently not. In your defense, it had been a soup ramen and the noodles had absorbed all the soup and gotten bloated and soggy.

“Okay,” you finally accepted. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Unexpectedly, it was Jiyong that came to hug you goodbye. “If anything goes wrong, you’ll always be welcome here,” he whispered, and you nodded, hugging him back. Even though you were pretty sure it was just because they enjoyed the convenience of having pussy on tap, you were still touched, your eyes starting to sting with tears that you refused to shed. As accepting as they’d been of you, you’d tried your best to avoid appearing weak and needy, and that wasn’t about to change.

It didn’t take long for you to find Taehyung – he was standing right near the entrance of the convenience store, smoking a shame cigarette. It was a habit he’d picked up in the military and quit when he left, but when he was stressed or upset, he still craved it. Right now, he was all of that and more.

You watched from around the side of the small building as he blew smoke out and flicked the end of the cigarette with his thumb, causing the ash to fall into the ashtray on top of the bin. The cigarette smoke was all he could smell, so he didn’t know you were there.

“Taehyung-oppa?” you called hesitantly, taking a few steps forward.

The way he whipped around to look at you was almost comical. “Y/n…?” he breathed, like he could hardly believe it. Hastily, his free hand came up to wipe his cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

You came a little closer, still a little skittish. “You shouldn’t be smoking,” you said instead of answering.

He smiled a little sadly, looking down at the cigarette in his hand. “Well… probably not,” he agreed.

“It’s bad for your health,” you continued walking towards him as you chided him gently.

“It is,” he said, although his voice cracked on the second word. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, trying to stifle the sobs. If this was the last time he ever saw you, he didn’t want you to remember him as a sobbing mess. Dragging a deep, painful breath in through his lungs, he swallowed hard to compose himself.

“Taehyung-oppa…” When he next opened his eyes, you were standing right in front of him, in all your ethereal glory. Right now, it didn’t matter that you looked (and smelled) like you’d seen better days. He forced himself to drink in every feature, every bit of your essence and scent. If this was all he had for the rest of his life, it would be enough. When he’d adopted you, he made a promise that he would always take care of you. He’d failed once already, but if all he could do for you for the rest of his life was look out for you from afar, that would be enough.

The powers that be must be smiling down on him, though, because instead of disappearing, you plucked the cigarette from his hand and ground it out against the bin. “Let’s go home,” you said simply.

He didn’t know why or how you’d changed your mind, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Nodding mutely, he held out his hand, and miraculously, you placed yours in it, letting him lead you back to his car.

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In the enclosed space of the car, Taehyung could pick apart all the unfamiliar notes of your scent, and it was driving him insane. The sour note of hunger and misery made the wolf in him want to whine and nose at your throat, bathe you and feed you and cuddle you until it all went away. The scent of unfamiliar men blanketing you inspired a very different reaction, though. It made him want to snarl, to tear the men who’d dared touch his mate apart, and make sure their scent was covered by his. He didn’t even want to think about how deep the scent of other men had sunk into you after three weeks. It had been his fault, anyway.

The part of him that was human tamped down ruthlessly on his baser, animalistic instincts, knowing that he couldn’t give in to them when they’d been engineered to manipulate him. Now, these instincts that had been bred into him were preventing him from being a good, responsible owner and that was unacceptable. Being here with you was throwing the conflict between his wolf and human sides into sharp relief, and he was silent as he mulled over it.

You didn’t have anything to say to him either, and your car ride home was quiet. You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the side of the car, and whenever there was a red light, Taehyung would gaze upon your face silently until he had to drive again.

When you finally got home, you followed Taehyung silently up to the apartment, your head bowed. His heart clenched at how broken and sad you looked, and the thought that he was the cause of it made him want to clutch you to his chest and cry. He did none of that, however, merely opening the door and letting you step into the house before him. You hovered uncertainly in the entryway, not even toeing off your shoes, your hands clutching the hem of your shirt in a way he recognized as an anxious habit of yours.

He stepped into the apartment and held his hand out to you. “Come on,” he coaxed, much like the first time he’d brought you home. The parallel didn’t seem like it was lost on you, because the ghost of a smile played across your lips, but this time when you put your hand in his, it was stiff and tense. He didn’t say anything, though, closing his larger hand around yours and drawing you into the apartment. You were still hesitant, though, looking around nervously, and in that moment, if he could have given up his heart to make you feel better, he would have done it without any thought.

“Do you want to go take a shower while I get dinner ready?” he asked quietly, and you nodded after a second, slipping off into your room to grab your clothes, then into the shower. When he heard the shower come on, he texted the boys to let them know he’d found you and they could call off the search. He didn’t add other details, not ready to share or even knowing what he should say to them, really.

With that done, he put his phone down on the counter, ignoring the way it vibrated over and over again, the boys undoubtedly bombarding him with questions. He figured you’d probably want a hot meal, and opened the fridge to see if he could cook anything. Seokjin would definitely be cooking up a storm for you and would load his car up with containers full of food tomorrow, but for tonight, he had to make do. There were a few threadbare ingredients that were left over from the last time you’d gone grocery shopping and he pulled them out hesitantly. It had honestly been too long since he’d cooked – when you were around, you usually took care of it and he’d been living off delivery food while you were gone.

Out of practice, he nevertheless gave it the good old college try, chopping up the onion and meat and attempting to make doenjang jjigae. He knew it was comforting for you, and it was for him too, especially after you’d made it for him during his heat. Unfortunately, when he tried to cook the stew, it turned into a mess somehow, with the onions burning and sticking to the pot, the doenjang starting to smoke, and the meat turning an unappetizing colour. Panicked, he started cursing while trying to scrape the food off the bottom of the pot.

The bathroom door swung open when you heard him, and you came out silently, nudging him aside to see what was happening. Without a word, you turned the stove off and started scraping burnt bits of food off the pan and into the bin. “Sorry,” Taehyung said, hovering awkwardly behind you. He’d never felt lower in his life. Could he do nothing right?

“It’s all right,” you murmured. “I’m not that hungry anyway. I might just turn in.”

His wolf whined in misery at the thought of you actually going to bed hungry, and he might have let a little noise slip, because your gaze snapped up towards him, before looking away. Your shirt was fisted in your hands again, and he forced himself to calm down. The fact that you were now afraid of him filled him with so much despair and hurt. He would genuinely throw himself off a bridge if it would make you smile again, just for a second.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll call delivery,” he said. He reached out to grab your hand, but thought better of it and snatched it back before making contact.

“Okay,” you agreed, your head still down. “Thank you, Taehyung-oppa.”

“Do you want to go sit down while I call them?” he asked, nodding towards the living room. You nodded and made your way to the couch where you perched on the very edge of the cushion, holding yourself stiffly with your hands in your lap.

Looking over sadly at you, he grabbed his phone and dialed the number for the restaurant that he knew was your favourite, ordering your food and his. He made sure to get additional side dishes, his wolf wanting nothing more than to provide for his mate.

When the food arrived, he busied himself taking it all out of the big basket and setting up the table as you drifted closer hesitantly. Even though he wasn’t looking directly at you, he watched carefully out of the corner of his eye as your lips turned up in a slight smile seeing your favourite black bean noodles, with sweet and sour pork on the side. It wasn’t much – before, you would have clapped your hands with glee and sit down eagerly – but to him, it felt like a victory anyway. Like maybe he could do this, take care of you and win back your affection.

You picked up your chopsticks and dug in, eating with a haste that he’d never seen before. You’d always been a bit of a slow eater, claiming you wanted to savour the food, but now you were wolfing it down like you didn’t know when you’d get to eat again, and it broke his heart all over again that you’d experienced hunger. You were his – his responsibility, his mate – and he’d failed you so miserably. The thought made his stomach flip unpleasantly and he found himself slowing down, losing his appetite at the thought of how much you’d undoubtedly suffered.

When you were done with your noodles – and most of the pork and side dishes – you started casting furtive glances over at his bowl of stew, and he pushed his bowl towards you without you having to ask. It was a striking reversal of the way you’d taken care of him during his pre-heat, and he was just now realizing how much responsibility you’d taken around the house since you came to live with him after his military service ended.

You hadn’t felt so full in weeks, and you sat back with a satisfied sigh when you’d drained Taehyung’s bowl as well. Your stomach hurt from how much you’d eaten, but it was a nice feeling, after the near-constant hunger pangs for the past three weeks. Moving sluggishly, you went to pack the empty bowls back into the bucket, but Taehyung stopped you. “I’ll do it,” he said. “Go get some rest, you look beat.”

Since you were exhausted, you didn’t argue with him, just getting up and heading to your bedroom. Taehyung watched, slightly wounded that you didn’t want to spend the night with him like you used to, but also not wanting to say or do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. “Good night,” he called, regretting it instantly when you leapt into the air at the sound of his voice.

“Good night,” you responded softly, and it was only his enhanced wolf hearing that allowed him to pick it up. Sighing, he finished cleaning up and put the basket back outside the door.

Being back in your bedroom felt almost surreal, after living on that streets and then in that tent. Everything was the same as it was before, when you were so different, it was like you didn’t fit in there anymore. The cute room with the cozy patterned bedspread, the overstuffed, oversized chair and reading nook… it was for another person, someone who didn’t exist anymore.

Still, you tried your best to block the thoughts out of your head as you pulled back the duvet to slide under it, fidgeting to try and get comfortable. Closing your eyes tight, you snuggled into the pillows, falling into the fitful, restless sleep that you’d gotten used to.

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Taehyung lay in the dark in his room, his eyes wide open. Having you in the next room over instead of in his bed next to him felt wrong, somehow, but even though he wanted nothing more than to slide into bed with you, or better yet, bring you to his room, his uncertainty and guilt kept him where he was.

He must have spent hours just lying there, listening to you toss and turn and whimper in your sleep, each sound twisting the knife. You’d always been such a deep, easy sleeper, knocking right out every night and sleeping peacefully till morning. It was his fault you’d changed, and he tortured himself all night imagining all the horrors you’d been through during the past few weeks.

When sunlight started shining through his curtains, he decided he’d had enough of lying there, and got out of bed. Still in his pajamas, he left his room and walked the small distance to yours to wake you up. Standing over your bed, he watched for a moment as you continued fussing in your sleep, a small frown etched into your features.

It had been a while since he’d done this, but years of waking you up meant that the muscle memory came back to him easy as he leaned over you and patted your side. “Hey… wake up,” he called softly.

You stirred and, clearly only half-awake, slurred, “Okay… you want a handjob?”

“I- what? Y/n…”

Your hand fought its way out of the covers and you held it out, palm up. “Come on…” you yawned.

“Y/n-ie… stop it.” Taehyung’s voice trembled as he saw the way you were holding your hand out, your fingers loosely curled. He put his hand in yours and placed it back onto the bed.

A little more awake now, you blinked the sleep from your eyes and squinted up at him. “Taehyung-oppa? Good morning,” you murmured in your soft, slightly scratchy morning voice. “Do you need breakfast?”

He hesitated. You looked so small and innocent in your bed now that he almost wondered if he’d hallucinated your earlier interaction. You continued looking at him, looking more alert, and he knew you were waiting for an answer.

“No,” he finally said. “Do you want to come to the studio with me today? We can grab some food on the way, and I’m sure the others are excited to see you too.”

You blinked and yawned again, before pushing yourself into a sitting position. “Okay,” you agreed. “Let me just get ready.” Sluggishly, you got out of bed, twisting your back to stretch while Taehyung made himself scarce, going to get dressed. When he was done, you ducked into the bathroom to do your thing, carrying your clothes in with you.

When you emerged, you looked fresh and adorable, in a simple white blouse and blue jeans, and anyone who wasn’t looking too closely or didn’t know you would have thought you were merely another pampered pet human. Taehyung, though, could see the way the clothes hung off you a little too loosely, the sharper edge of your jawline and cheekbones from weight loss, and most of all, could smell the scent of other men on you that even your shower last night hadn’t been able to get off.

“Is there anything you want for breakfast today?” he asked as you put your shoes on. He opened the front door and extended his other arm towards you, intending at first to usher you out with his hand on your lower back like he usually did, but he saw the way you stood a little more stiffly at the anticipation of his hands on you and dropped it awkwardly. He supposed he shouldn’t have been quite so surprised and hurt at your hesitance. If you wanted nothing more to do with him, it was still more than he deserved.

He took you to a little restaurant for porridge that was near the BigHit building, watching carefully as you downed the entire bowl in record-breaking time. Usually you were too busy chatting with him and telling him about your day, or random things you’d seen, or something you’d read in a book, but now you were silent, your head down as you shoveled food into your mouth. In an attempt to break the silence, Taehyung asked, “Did you sleep well?” even though he knew the answer to the question.

It didn’t work, anyway. You just looked up at him, wide-eyed, for a second, before nodding and returning to your food. Sighing in defeat, he lapsed into silence too. If this was the new normal, he couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it. At least you were eating well – it soothed his wolf slightly, to know that his mate was eating well.

When you were finished with your meal – even licking the spoon clean dramatically – he took you to the studio, where the boys, as anticipated, glomped you the moment you set foot in the door. Jimin was basically in tears as he hugged you and wouldn’t let go, even when the others came forth for their turn. Namjoon, however, hovered back, hesitant to greet you. In the heat of the moment, with Taehyung’s turmoil and misery in his face, it had been easy to justify his own role in the entire debacle, but now that he was looking straight at you, and seeing the toll that the past few weeks had taken on your body, the guilt sat uncomfortably in his chest.

Soon enough, you were back in your usual spot – on the couch, squished between Yoongi on one side and Jimin on the other, listening absently as they discussed their album and comeback with the managers and executives. Feeling warm and full from the porridge, your eyelids started to droop, and Yoongi, always alert and aware, gently took the book from your loose grasp and closed it, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

Taehyung, watching from the adjacent couch, frowned, barely paying attention to what Bang PD was saying. He knew you hadn’t slept well last night, and the more rational side of him was relieved that you were at least getting some rest, even if you didn’t seem that comfortable. If he had his way, you would be lying down on a couch somewhere in a dark room where you could get some proper sleep. His wolf wanted to tear Yoongi to shreds, snarling in jealousy at the older man. It should be his shoulder you were currently drooling all over, your face adorably smushed into the fabric of his shirt.

Reminding himself harshly that you weren’t comfortable around him anymore, and really, whose fault was that, he forced himself to look away, although his jaw remained clenched, an outward sign of his irritation. He’d never been good at keeping his emotions to himself, but he figured he’d better damn well get good at it now, if he was going to keep all his problematic emotions to himself and avoid making you feel even more unsafe around him.

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For almost a month, you and Taehyung danced around each other, trying to stay out of each other’s way. You didn’t want to do anything that might set him off again or remind him of why he’d kicked you out in the first place, and Taehyung was practically bending over backwards to give you the space he thought you needed to heal. As a result, the apartment was very quiet for most of the day, an oppressive silence that hung like a shroud over you.

Since you weren’t talking much to Taehyung, you were always happy to go with him to the studio, where the other boys were more than willing to entertain you. They’d realized quickly that you were a lot jumpier than before, which was understandable, so they tried not to do anything that would give you a fright. For the most part, you were all right with physical contact (other than with Taehyung, which upset him tremendously) but once in a while an innocent brush against you could remind you of the way Big Bang would touch you, and you’d leap into the air to get away from it.

It was Yoongi, who let you sit on the couch in his studio most days, who finally broached the topic after he tried to usher you into the studio with his hand on your back and you almost burst into tears. He sat you down on the couch and squatted in front of you, holding your hands and pleading for you to please tell him what was wrong for about half an hour before you caved and admitted that you might have some trauma from living on the streets. It was another twenty minutes of cajoling before you told him, in the smallest voice possible, that you’d had to use your body to survive.

“You… what?” Yoongi was so shocked by your confession that he lost his balance and fell, sitting ungracefully at your feet. Thinking he was reacting this way out of disgust, you covered your face with your hands and drew your shoulders in.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears stinging at your eyes. This was exactly what you hadn’t wanted; you’d thought you’d been doing well with hiding everything and dealing with it alone. Now that Yoongi knew, the rest of the boys would know that you were filthy, disgusting… you couldn’t stop the sob from tearing out of your chest.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he soothed, putting his shock and anger aside in the face of your clear distress. He wanted to flip a table, maybe set fire to something, but you were more important right now. His hands fluttered helplessly by your knees, wanting to comfort you but not sure how to. Your adverse reaction to the boys’ touch made so much sense now, and he didn’t want to accidentally trigger you again and upset you further.

In the end, he took your hand and placed it on top of his head, letting you stroke his soft, fluffy leopard ears. The rhythmic motion seemed to soothe you, and you smiled a little past the tears as you scratched the base of them, just like he let you do when you were a child. He didn’t want to force you to speak, but slowly coaxed everything out of you. Once you started talking about your experiences, it was like the words fell out of you, so relieved to finally be able to tell someone after keeping it to yourself for weeks as you tried to pretend like you were the same innocent human you’d been before being cast out.

Eventually, Yoongi managed to get you to fall asleep for a much-needed nap on his couch after you’d cried yourself out. His heart broke as he looked at you lying on the couch on your side, so small and delicate. You looked almost breakable, and the thought of you having to use that precious body to survive because of Taehyung made his fists clench by his side in rage. Turning down the lights so you would be able to rest properly, he left his studio, making sure to close the door quietly to avoid waking you up even though he wanted to slam it in his rage.

Taehyung was sitting in a meeting room with Jungkook and Jimin, and when Yoongi burst through the entrance, all of them looked up. “Suga-hyung, what’s up?” Jimin greeted.

Ignoring him, Yoongi stalked over to Taehyung, yanked him by the shirtfront out of his seat and decked him across the face. Shocked and unprepared for the hit, Taehyung sprawled on the floor, only to prop himself up by the elbow a second later, cradling his jaw with his hand and looking up at Yoongi with wide, hurt eyes.

“Suga-hyung, stop!” Jimin cried as Jungkook all but leapt across the table in the room to restrain the older man. The two bystanders exchanged panicked glances, not sure why Yoongi was suddenly attacking Taehyung. As irritable and snarky as the rapper was, it was almost impossible to get him truly angry, and he was clearly fuming right now.

Furious at the sudden attack, Taehyung surged up off the floor. “What the fuck was that for?!” he roared, pulling back to return Yoongi’s punch with one of his own. Jimin hurried over to pull Taehyung back before the situation descended into a brawl.

“You’re garbage,” Yoongi sneered. “Ask Y/n what it was for.” With that, he pulled himself out of Jungkook’s grasp, glared at Taehyung once more, and left the room, unable to stand being in the same room as him anymore.

“Shit, you’re bleeding,” Jimin fretted over his best friend, taking his chin in his hand and turning his face from one side to the other to see what the damage was. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he instructed, tugging on Taehyung’s hand so the wolf hybrid had no choice but to trail after Jimin, his ears drooping.

“What do you think that was about?” Jimin asked in the bathroom as he wetted a wad of paper towels in the sink.

Taehyung, leaning against the wall beside the sinks, shrugged, meeting Jimin’s eyes in the mirror. “Hell if I know,” he grumbled, still bitter. “I can’t believe hyung would do something like that,” he sulked.

Starting to dab at the busted lip to clean it up, Jimin ignored Taehyung’s hiss of pain and subsequent whines. “You know hyung isn’t the type to do something like that out of the blue… we can go talk to him later, okay? Find out what’s wrong.”

Taehyung started to protest, but Jimin’s glare and the way he pressed a little harder on the split lip he was tending to made him subside, pouting.

Since Taehyung could be a big baby and Jimin had an obsessive need to take care of everyone around him, it took a while before Taehyung was deemed patched up enough to go talk to Yoongi. As he made his way down the hallway to Yoongi’s studio, he fumed silently about his hyung’s weird behavior.

By the time he got to the door of Yoongi’s studio, he’d worked himself back up into a rage, and pounded on the door loudly to announce his presence. “Hyung, open up!” he yelled.

The racket he was making woke you up abruptly, and you jolted awake, gasping as you shot up into a sitting position. A quick glance over at Yoongi told you that he hadn’t heard Taehyung at all, since he was still working, with his giant expensive noise-cancelling headphones on. Since he was occupied, you went to open the door yourself to let Taehyung in.

Taehyung’s arm was still up, poised to knock, when you opened the door. He stared at you with wide eyes, not having expected you and feeling slightly abashed now that you’d seen his childish tantrum. “Ah, Y/n-ie… I didn’t know you were here,” he greeted, dropping his arm to his side.

You, on the other hand, had a far more dramatic reaction. Seeing his split lip, you gasped in horror, and in your panic, the artificial distance you’d been imposing for the past month slipped away. “Tae-oppa!” you cried, your hands flying to his face. “What happened to you?” With the pads of your fingers, you stroked gently over the reddened skin around the cut, wincing.

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him over to the couch and sat him down, continuing to fret over him. Taehyung, for his part, sat quietly and let you do what you wanted, just happy to have you near him again. All his anger evaporated as he smiled at you like a fool, ignoring the way it made his lip sting.

Yoongi, who’d turned around in his chair and slipped his headphones down around his neck, frowned at the sight that greeted him. You were kneeling on the couch next to Taehyung, leaning over him while he held your wrist in his hand, stroking gently along the soft skin on your inner wrist.

At the sound of Yoongi clearing his throat, you jumped, tearing your wrist out of Taehyung’s grasp, to look over at the rapper. The interruption was enough to startle you out of your frantic concern for him, and you sat down on the couch, your hands in your lap as you tried to make yourself smaller. “S-sorry,” you said to Taehyung, though it was directed at your hands. What would he think of you now? Getting all up in his personal space, even after he’d made it so clear that he didn’t want to be involved with you like that. You really needed to get a grip if you were going to remain his pet, you thought. No way in hell were you going back to being homeless.

“It’s all right,” Taehyung murmured, responding to you habitually. Now that you weren’t in his personal space anymore, though, his anger started coming back, and he trained his gaze on Yoongi, his jaw flexing with his irritation. Yoongi met his gaze with equal measure, neither of them backing down.

You were so consumed by your own thoughts that you didn’t realise the tension between them, asking Taehyung obliviously, “So what happened to your face, anyway?”

There was a beat of silence, then Yoongi replied smoothly, “He must have walked into a door.” As he said it, he pinned Taehyung with a warning gaze, as if daring him to disagree with his lie.

An awkward moment later, Taehyung agreed. “Yes… I was distracted,” he offered as an excuse.

Watching the way Yoongi looked at you, with a small frown knitting his brow, Taehyung remembered what Yoongi had said earlier, about asking you what the punch was for. He broke eye contact with Yoongi to look over at you instead, although you still refused to look up at him, preferring to focus instead on your lap, where your hands were folded politely.

“Anyway, Y/n-ie… I’m not needed for the rest of the day. Do you want to go home early?” Taehyung figured that whatever it was he was supposed to ask you about, it was probably best to do it in private. He didn’t have his own studio, so his apartment was the best bet.

“Sure,” you agreed immediately. You’d been doing that a lot lately, just going with whatever he wanted or suggested, unless you were protesting that he was spending too much time, money or effort on you. It was so completely different from the carefree girl who loved to go crazy with his credit cards and soaked up his affection that he’d known, and he hated himself again for causing you to withdraw like that. It had taken him so long to earn your trust back when you’d been a child and he adopted you, and now all of that was gone down the drain.

He stood up and you followed, trailing after him out of Yoongi’s studio with a smile and a wave that upset him all over again. He hadn’t had that cute, carefree smile directed at him for so long now, and again, he fucking knew it was his own fault, but that didn’t make it any easier. For now, he had to be satisfied with seeing that smile only when it was directed at other people. At least, he thought bitterly, he’d succeeded in providing a good support network for you.

When you got home, after yet another awkward car ride filled with stilted small talk, Taehyung sat you down on the couch, wanting to talk to you but unsure of how to bring it up. You looked at him inquiringly as he stuttered through several aborted attempts to start the conversation, stopping each time with a frown and a hum.

Finally, he managed to ask, in a tone he hoped was neutral, “Did you and Suga-hyung talk about anything interesting today?”

You visibly stiffened, and he wondered if it was his words or his failure to feign nonchalance. “Why do you ask?” you responded cautiously, and he could see your walls going up.

“Just something Suga-hyung said,” Taehyung waved his hand in the air.

You cursed Yoongi inwardly for selling you out, and so quickly, at that. “Uh, we just talked about some stuff that happened last month,” you said vaguely. Neither of you were necessarily comfortable talking about the time you’d spent on the streets, and you tried to tiptoe around it out of consideration for Taehyung, but he understood what you were trying to say anyway.

“Uh-huh, like what?” he prompted, undeterred.

Your shoulders hunched defensively around your ears. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you muttered, and started to get up to beat a hasty retreat to your room.

Taehyung reached out in a panic and grabbed your hand. “No, please, tell me what you told him,” he pleaded, looking up at you with that sad expression that you’d never been able to resist.

You sighed. “Why do you even want to know?” you asked, slumping back onto the couch in resignation.

Taehyung frowned. “Of course I want to know,” he countered immediately. “Why don’t you want to tell me?” he asked in concern now.

You shrugged. “I don’t like talking about it, and it’ll just upset you,” you explained in a small voice.

“Y/n…” Taehyung’s voice was filled with sadness. “Please, tell me about it.” He scooted slightly closer to you and took your hands in his.

“Taehyung-oppa…”

“I understand if you’re not ready to tell me,” he admitted. It stung to acknowledge the possibility that you were more comfortable talking to Yoongi about this than to Taehyung, when he’d always been your caretaker, the one you’d gone to for everything. “But if you’re willing to tell me, I really do want to know, so we can figure out the best way to help you.”

You swallowed. “All right,” you agreed hesitantly, then lapsed into silence as you thought about how you should explain what had happened. You didn’t want Taehyung to judge you, but then again, Yoongi hadn’t either, so maybe your fears about that had been overblown.

After a little more hemming and hawing as you tried to muster up the courage to talk about it, you finally said, “Do you remember the guys that I was living with?”

Taehyung nodded, slightly confused, but didn’t say anything, simply waiting for you to continue speaking when you were ready.

“Well, uh… they agreed to take me in and all, but it wasn’t for free,” you said, trying to skirt around the topic, hoping he would get it without you having to spell it out in so many words.

Of course, Taehyung just gave you a blank stare, as if waiting for you to finish your thought. You sighed. “They proposed, like, a trade,” you continued, willing him with your mind to just understand what you were trying to say already, damn it.

When his expression didn’t change, you gave up on hoping he would understand your hints. “I only had myself and didn’t have much to offer, so they, uh… theymademeusemybody,” you rushed out the last part of your sentence so softly it was almost like a whisper, but with Taehyung’s sharper hearing, courtesy of his hybrid senses, he picked it up perfectly.

Only, with what he’d heard, he wished he hadn’t. He stared at you imploringly, his ears folded down against his head, his eyes starting to fill with tears. “Wh-what?” His voice wobbled, unable to believe what he’d heard. You avoided his gaze by turning your face away, not wanting to see the expression on his face. You didn’t need his pity.

“Y/n…” Taehyung tightened his grasp on your hands. “I’m so sorry.” The emotion behind the simple words caught you off guard, and you turned back to look at him. He was staring straight at you, his eyes huge and filled with distress (and tears). A sob that he couldn’t quite hold back tore out of his chest and you watched, with some disbelief, as he completely broke down in front of you.

“Taehyung-oppa…” you murmured, trying to extricate one hand from his grasp. Panicked, he held on even tighter, unwilling to let you go and afraid that you would leave if he did. He was so upset it physically hurt all over. As an owner, he was distraught that his thoughtless actions had caused you to suffer like that. His baser instincts, however, prodded him to hunt down the humans who’d forced you into such a position. How dare they make such profane, disgusting, exploitative demands of you, his imprint, his mate?

And yet, wasn’t it all his fault? He was the one who’d kicked you out, so you had no other choice but to accept it. Everything that had happened to you while you were living on the streets had happened because of him, because he was a thoughtless, stupid, irresponsible, owner. It would serve him right if you left, although he couldn’t bear for you to. Clearly, he’d shown that he was an unfit owner.

He was so lost in his self-hatred that he didn’t realize how hard he was squeezing your hands which were folded in his bigger ones until you made a quiet noise of discomfort, flexing your hands in his grasp. Horrified, he let go of them as if scalded, appalled that he was hurting you yet again.

Instead of immediately taking off, however, you reached up to cradle the side of his face, wiping his tears away with your thumb. As much as you’d resented him, you couldn’t see his sadness without wanting to comfort him. It was somewhat strange – you’d always seen him as the rock, the constant in your life. Always there for you, always in your corner. That was gone now. You knew firsthand how he could be, how much you suffered because of him. Yet there were still those memories that, try as you might, you couldn’t stop holding close to your heart. Of being tucked into bed by him, spoilt rotten and cuddled during what had to be the most pampered adolescence possible. Part of you was vindictively pleased that he was so upset, since it was what he deserved, but there was another part that didn’t like seeing him suffer.

When he felt your hand on his face, Taehyung felt like he couldn’t breathe for a moment. It would have made more sense to him if you’d slapped or punched him, but this tender touch, after all you’d been through because of him… he didn’t deserve you. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he kept repeating like a mantra, as if saying the words could dispel the heavy guilt he felt.

Because you weren’t a saint after all, you couldn’t resist twisting the knife. You knew you should appreciate how apologetic he was now that he knew what had happened, but there was also a spark of irritation within you. Why did he get to cry and make a fuss, when you couldn’t? You were comforting him when all the things he was upset about had happened to you, because of him.

“If you were sorry,” you said quietly, “you wouldn’t have kicked me out to begin with.” There was no malice in your tone, which was quiet and neutral, but it was abundant in your words. This was all his doing, and he shouldn’t get to wail dramatically about it like he was the victim.

Taehyung swallowed. “You’re right,” he acknowledged immediately. “This is all my fault, I’m sorry. Tell me what I can do to make it better for you,” he implored, his wide, tear-filled eyes looking at you earnestly.

“Tell me why you did it.” You never raised your voice, staying unmoved in the face of his clear anguish.

“Okay,” he agreed instantly, almost before the last word left your mouth. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just please… don’t leave.”

You folded your hands neatly in your lap and prepared to listen. To be honest, you’d thought you would be able to predict whatever he was going to say. He was furious about you coercing him into a sexual relationship when he wasn’t in his right frame of mind, he would confess, and after thinking about it, he’d gotten so angry that he acted impulsively. You could almost hear the words inside your head already – they were the same reasons you’d been repeating to yourself, over and over again.

“I was mad,” Taehyung admitted, the words leaving a bad taste in his mouth, “And I acted rashly.” He hadn’t wanted to tell you about the imprint, hoping that he could deal with it by himself so he wouldn’t give you yet another thing to worry and stress over, but you’d asked, and he couldn’t reject your request. Not when he knew how much you’d suffered because of him. You nodded, like you’d expected him to say that.

What he said next, however, took you completely by surprise.

“Namjoon-hyung told me…” he stopped to swallow and gather himself, then started again. “I know you think that during my last heat –” you both flushed, thinking about what had happened then – “that was new, but it wasn’t.”

Your gaze sharpened and focused on him, listening more carefully to what he had to say now. “I’d been struggling since my discharge from the military,” he continued. Damn, this was hard to say. “Namjoon-hyung helped me look into it, and he found…”

He paused to muster some courage, running his hand over the back of his neck awkwardly. “He found what?” you prompted, leaning forward curiously. You hadn’t voluntarily come this close to him for a month, he noted. His wolf preened.

“Uh, he found evidence of… hybrid technology that he believes is the cause. He called it,” he coughed to delay it a little longer, “an imprint. It’s a genetic quirk that was created in predator hybrids to ensure that they could bond with their human owners.”

You blinked. “I’m not your owner,” you said dumbly. It was so much to take in, that bit was the only thing your mind could focus on and grasp.

“I know,” he nodded, “but because we spent so much time together in our adolescence the bond had a chance to form, and after spending two years apart, it kicked in because you’d reached…” He grimaced, not really wanting to say it, and waved his hand at you vaguely instead.

You understood well enough what he was trying to say and blanched. “Gross…” you muttered under your breath, but Taehyung heard it and his shoulders slumped further. Of course you were horrified and disgusted at him – you should be. For the first time, he wondered if you would have been better off on the streets – at least then you wouldn’t have to deal with him and this genetic abnormality. He’d forced you into every difficult situation you’d faced since coming back to him after his military service, and it was only natural that you were appalled by his revelation.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. He was saying that a lot, but no matter how many times he uttered the words, they were never enough to convey the depth of his remorse and sorrow over what he’d done to you. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” his head fell into your lap as he cried.

You started stroking his head and ears, the habit you’d developed from years of being around him making you move your hand automatically to soothe him as you tried to sort out your thoughts. Hybrid technology… a genetic quirk… that meant humans had been responsible for what Taehyung was going through. You were more educated than most humans, which meant you understood very well the history between humans and hybrids. Humans had created hybrids and enslaved them, treating them as chattel – pets, workhorses, you name it.

And now, you were continuing to be the source of a hybrid’s pain and suffering. Had humans not done enough? Their destructive legacy continued to live on in the bodies of the hybrids they’d created, and while Taehyung had been struggling with it by himself, you’d been living in blissful ignorance, resenting him for what he’d done.

Taehyung cried until the tears wouldn’t come anymore, then he just lay with his head in your lap, the occasional hiccup making him jerk slightly. After a while, you turned your head to look out the window – the sun was setting, you noted.

“Taehyung-oppa…” you called softly, shaking his shoulder gently to wake him up. “You should get to bed.”

He stirred slightly, then tried to go back to sleep, but you pushed him back into a sitting position. “Come on, Tae-oppa,” you said, standing up and tugging on his hand. He followed you as you led him to his room, but wouldn’t let go of your hand once you’d gotten him settled in bed.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” he croaked.

You eyed him dubiously for a second, not sure if it was a good idea, especially in light of what you’d just learned. But with his sad expression, the dejected slump of his shoulders and the way his ears flopped over his head, you couldn’t say no to anything he asked. Especially not with the newfound guilt you were carrying around.

“Okay,” you acquiesced. “Just let me wash up and I’ll come back.”

When you tiptoed back into Taehyung’s room, scrubbed down and in your pajamas, you thought he was asleep from the way he was curled up under the sheets. You quietly pulled back the covers on your side of the bed and got in slowly, trying not to jostle him awake, but it didn’t seem to make a difference, since the moment you were settled into the mattress he squirmed closer to you, wrapping his arms and legs around you and pressing his face into your neck.

With a small sigh, you settled into his hold.

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

“Y/n… I don’t understand.” Namjoon’s brow was furrowed as he looked up at you, standing in his studio.

“Namjoon-oppa… I know you know about the imprint, and you told Taehyung-oppa about it,” you told him.

“Right… but I don’t know why you’re asking me this.”

“It’s not complicated – I just want to know if there’s a way to break the imprint.”

Namjoon hesitated. It was something he’d been looking into nonstop as well, hoping to find something that would set both you and Taehyung free. It didn’t seem to be possible, though – the genetic bond was not designed to be broken, especially since hybrids had been considered so disposable. If anything went wrong, euthanasia of hybrids had been just as commonly accepted as euthanasia of regular pets.

“There isn’t,” he admitted. “The only cases where a hybrid was able to move on from the imprint…” he gulped, not sure whether he should tell you.

“What is it?” you asked impatiently. “Namjoon-oppa, please. I’m trying to help Taehyung-oppa, just like you are,” you pleaded. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Stop asking!” Backed into a corner now, he snarled at you, his ears pressed back against his head. “There’s nothing you can do, okay? Just drop it.”

“Namjoon-oppa, please. I don’t know why you’re trying to hide it. I’ll do anything it takes to help Taehyung-oppa break his imprint.”

That got his attention. “Anything?” This was crazy… it was way too much to ask of you.

“Anything,” you confirmed resolutely. He could see your determination in the set of your jaw and the way your gaze met his unwaveringly.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Ah, this is crazy…” he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

“The only recorded cases where a hybrid was able to move on from an imprint… is when the object of the imprint passed away.”

#btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #btswritersnet #magicshopnet #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #hybrid taehyung #bts hybrid #bts hybrid au #bts future au #bts scenarios #bts fic #dont ask dont tell

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daydream-believin · 3 years

Text

Flowers Have Feelings

summary: it's valentines and you're making some gifts for your good pal douxie,,, also confessing

warnings: swearing probably, no proofread cause tired

word count: 2659

a/n: i've been struggling with writers block. i guess. i've returned to this only to write like, a paragraph so many times. which is bad cause like cheese designed the bouqeut and this should have been done ages ago. idk idk bon appetit

tags: @yagirlcheesely, is for you

image below: sketch of the bouquet

You jumped out of bed and slammed your alarm. Today was the day. You had to get everything ready today. Tonight would be the presentation. The night you finally do it. The night you confessed to your closest friend and crush, Douxie. Also happened to be Valentine’s day.

Your friends may have told you: “Just be patient. Drop hints. If he likes you, he’ll let you know.” But you weren’t about that passive love life. You liked to grab that strawberry cow by the horns. Subtly was boring and took far too long. You were in love with your friend and you were gonna let him know frankly if it killed you. It probably would, to be honest.

As confident as this makes you sound, you were aware of the possibility of him not liking you back, and that was okay. Sure, your heart would be shattered and you might not be very peachy for, say, a month or six, but you accepted that. At first, you had resigned yourself to just adoring him secretly. But you quickly grew impatient with that. What were you afraid of, really? Him letting you down gently, and ushering you two into an era of awkwardness? Okay so maybe that was worth considering. But not really. You wouldn’t let it come to that. Even if he did turn you down, you weren’t about to let that fact taint your friendship like that. You two were very close, and Douxie wasn’t the kind of guy to suddenly treat you differently after such a thing. Just a few weeks of awkwardness at most before all was forgotten (on his end at least). Only a problem for you. But, boy, it would be really, really nice, and not awkward, if he reciprocated.

You and Douxie were thick as thieves. There wasn’t a thing you hadn’t told each other. Not a secret between a pair of buddies as close as you. Oh, one thing, you know. The fact that you had caught feelings, that was definitely something you had kept secret from him. As eager as you were to do so, you couldn’t just drop a bombshell like that at any old time. That’s why you chose today of all days to confess; a little extra luck from St. Valentine. A little magic to give you a boost, placebo or not. This was going to happen. This was going to work.

You strapped on your helmet, safety first, before heading out on your bike. You cleared your schedule for the day cause you weren’t really sure if everything would work out or not. You could have everything done and ended wrapped up neatly in a few hours, or you could have a complete disaster on your hands, which could take up all your time. Time you would happily give, since you were determined for everything to be perfect. It was also nice to know you didn’t have to come in to work later,, lest you spend the whole night, crying your eyes out. You shuddered at the possibility. You were gonna stop thinking about that now. Yeah, only confidence now.

You may be a teensy bit sleep deprived. Only a teensy bit. You chugged a monster this morning, you’ll be fine. It wasn’t your fault you were up all night researching flower language. There were so many flowers, and those flowers had so many feelings. Eventually though, you managed to settle on a bouquet of roses, daisies, and dandelions. Fern leaves for greenery too. Greenery was important for flower arrangements. It tied the whole thing together. While it wouldn’t be the most on theme color scheme, the yellows, whites, reds, and greens, would mix together prettily. You definitely didn’t have to go as far as this, and you were banking on the fact that Douxie even knew flower language, but it was sweet, it was romantic. And you were going to be romantic about this, dammit.

Daisies, for friendship. It was really important that you communicate just how much you valued Douxie’s friendship and how nothing would change between you two if he were to not return your feelings. Red, red roses, classic romance. There was a reason the blooms were so strongly associated with the valentines holiday itself; no one sees a red rose and thinks of anything other than love and romance. A clear message to your beloved. And well, the dandelions? Cheery, beautiful, resilient, common weeds, never to be approved of, finding the strength to bloom despite assholes like Merlin’s best efforts. Dandelions were Douxie’s favorite flower.

Too bad the florist didn’t even consider them to be anything but said common weed. You had included them in your order when you called it in and you could hear the florist laugh, but muffled as if he put his hand over the receiver, before returning to the phone to inform you that you would have to add them yourself. Pretty rude, if you say so. No matter, hand-picked dandelions would be romantic, anyways. Even if no one else knew about it but you.

You placed the bouquet neatly into the basket of your bike. You’d pick the dandelions to complete it later, right before the big confession, in order to keep them fresh. But as of now, the bouquet peaked out of your basket, the floral fragrance wafting up to your face as you made your way to the next store.

Last week, you had seen such an adorable little box of chocolates. It had chocolates shaped like little skulls, flowers, and ghost cats, and the box had a silly pun about death. Goth chocolate, def. It would have been perfect for the edgy wizard in your life, but alas, it was way too fucking expensive. Like obscenely expensive. But no matter, you’d just steal the idea. How hard could making chocolate be anyway?

You left the grocery store with your haul safe in your skull-patterned reusable shopping bag. Wizard-chic and eco-friendly, it was your favorite bag. The contents of the much-loved bag? Melting chocolates, a jar of marmalade, a jar of raspberry jam, a jar of strawberry jam, and a new roll of wax paper, since you were out. Now you weren’t as ambitious as to make your own jam here. This was a failsafe. There are only so many ways to ruin chocolates if you did not make the chocolate nor the filling yourself. Now just a quick run in the stationary shop on your way home for a cute box, and you were all ready to start your chocolatier career.

* * *

Douxie was getting antsy. Not many patrons had paid a visit to his bookstore this afternoon. Which was strange for valentine’s. and it left him with nothing but his thoughts to entertain his anxious mind. Doux had a lot to worry about. His band had a gig in a new town, so he wasn’t sure how they would be received. He was waiting on a shipment of books that was supposed to show up days ago. It may have gotten lost. That Lake kid was getting himself into more and more trouble these days and it was starting to become hard to help out without overstepping his vaguely imposed bounds. But most of all, at the very moment, he was worried about you.

You had asked him to meet up for dinner tonight. Okay, pretty normal for a Sunday night. Not that the weekend meant anything to either of you, but you normally set aside Sunday for dinner hangout. So nothing to abnormal. But then. Then, you said, something… Douxie actually can’t recall what you said, per se, just that it was along the lines of “we need to talk.” And that your tone sounded nervous. He did not like that one bit, nope nope. He had spent a great part of the day just revisiting every interaction the two of you had had in the last month or so, desperate to figure out if he did something wrong. But he was coming up blank, for all his efforts. Across the room, the clock ticked on. It would be closing time soon enough, and then he’d no longer have to wonder just what he did wrong, as you would be there to tell him directly. Fuzzbuckets, he couldn’t wait.

* * *

You wiped the goopy chocolate off of your cheek with the back of your hand. So far this wasn’t a total disaster. You had at least seven chocolate skulls filled and drying in the molds. The white chocolate seemed to have melted smoother than the regular chocolate? The regular chocolate ones looked kind of lumpy. You hoped they came out of the molds okay. Not to mention the ones you already messed up. A little mountain of chocolate pieces and jam had started rising from your table top corner.

It had been lots of fun at the start. melting the chocolates with a double boil, planning out which molds would be which flavors. But actually filling those molds? A messy, messy ordeal. You had chocolate and jam all over your kitchen, up to your exposed elbows, and even a little in your hair. But that was okay. You’d clean the kitchen later. With the molds in the freezer to set, your priority now was cleaning yourself up rather than the kitchen.

And you cleaned up nice, if you did say so yourself. You got the chocolate out of your hair, and had on a fresh outfit, taking a little time to put effort into your style. You looked snazzy, but not too fancy. You needed to stay casual. Something that you hoped would make Douxie be like ‘wow they look pretty okay’ but not freak him out with formality. Yeah. This was good.

Your watch beeped. Okay, you needed to get out of here, no more dilly dallying. You pulled the candies you made out of the freezer. Moment of truth. Thank the stars, all of the chocolates came out of the molds smoothly without breaking. You arranged them in the cute circular box you set up earlier and folded the tissue paper over them. They all fit in perfectly. The cheesy valentine card, the most important part, didn’t quite fit on top of the candies, you’d have to put it with the bouquet. You slid the lid onto the box and fastened a bow around it with a blue ribbon. Maybe this was a bit overkill, but Douxie knew how to appreciate the dramatic. He’d love it, you were sure.

Last but not least, you headed to the greenspace across the street from your apartment for the final ingredient in your Douxie wooing, dandelions. You were lucky that the empty lot had recently bloomed an entire garden’s worth of the yellow things. The chilly breeze mussed up your newly-fixed hair as you danced about gathering the tiny flowers, adding to the bouquet until you felt like it was enough. Which took longer than you had hoped. You definitely could have kept adding in more dandelions but your watch beeped once again and you had no choice but to make peace with the level of yellow and book it to the bookstore where you and Douxie were supposed to meet before heading out for the night.

* * *

Hearing the ding of the door chime, Douxie turned around to kindly inform the customer who came in that he wasn’t open, but the words caught in his throat when he was met with your smile. There you were, standing in the shop with a box in one hand and flowers in the other. You looked cute. Really cute. But Douxie chased that thought away. He fumbled with the book he had been re-shelving. It fell out of his hand unceremoniously, landing with a thud.

“Hey,” Doux managed to get out. “What’s all-”

“These are for you!” you shoved the presents into his now empty hands. That courage you had earlier? Gone. Your resolve? Dissolving as we speak. You had to get this over with before you chickened out. He was just so good, okay. And why did you think this was a good idea. Douxie looked down at the gifts in his hands confused, before blushing. If he could have reached a hand behind his head and rubbed the back of his neck he would have.

“I didn’t know we were doing Valentine’s, uh. I feel bad I didn’t get you anything.”

“Oh! Don’t be. I just,, felt like doing something nice for you and uh, special,” Douxie tilted his head. You took the box, freeing up his hand. “These are chocolates I made, like, like you’re supposed to do.” You waltzed over to the counter to place them out of the way. “The bouquet is the real star here, uh, I picked them out very carefully.” You tucked your arms behind your back. “I, uh- I brushed up on flower language, and I hope I got it right.”

Now Douxie may have been a Victorian once upon a time but he had barely any surviving memory of the frilly flower language people socialized through in those days. But thankfully, the blooms in the bouquet in front of him were straight forward enough that he did in fact get the message without taking too much gear turning in that noggin of his. Although, the friendly daisies with the red roses were kind of sending him some mixed signals. He knew what he wanted them to mean, but he could just be misinterpreting. You seemed to notice his hesitation.

“Um, there’s a card too. In the flowers somewhere. That. Probably explains what I’m trying to say a little clearer.” You carded your fingers through your hair. You had anticipated not being able to really speak with your voice, as you barely could now, so you’d written it all out on the card as backup. But damn, that card had everything on it. You maybe got a little carried away. There wasn’t going to be any going back from this.

Douxie dug out the card from amidst the blooms. It was handmade, with a cheesy little drawing on the front complete with a pun. And then he opened it. It was almost solid black with ink. Yeah, you had written that much in there. Both sides. And a little on the back. Wow. Doux tried his best to keep up a poker face while reading it but failed quickly as the first few lines alone left him flushed. It was true, everything was on it. From how much you adored Douxie as a person, to how much you valued his friendship, to how pretty you thought he was, to how you longed for something more, with him? Douxie felt like his hands were getting the card all sweaty.

It was nerve wracking watching him read that card. It seemed like he was finished, since his eyes stopped raking through it, but now he was staring intensely at the words written on the pages, in a trance. He broke focus, looking to the bouquet, back to the card, and then finally settled on you.

“Wow.”

“… is that a good wow?”

Douxie caught you by surprise. He pulled into a hug. “Yeah, a good wow.”

You and Douxie’s first non-platonic hug? Yes please. You didn’t even mind the flowers pressing into your back. Okay so a few rose thorns were poking you but that was fine. Douxie smelled like something you couldn’t name, but it was spicy, and cozy. He let you go sooner than you were ready to, but he grinned at you as he left to rummage through his things in the back for a vase. He turned to you as he proudly displayed them on the store’s counter, right where he could look at them all workday,

“So, where are we going tonight? For our first date?” Doux chuckled, “and, technically, our first Valentine’s day too.”

#valentines💘#douxie x reader #douxie x y/n #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie casperan x reader #hisirdoux x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan imagine #douxie casperan imagine #tales of arcadia x reader #tales of arcadia imagine #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #my writing

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oigimi · 3 years

Text

. owlet .

. mozart and baby oc . found family . 1.9k words .

here’s a found family fic that’s been in my head for awhile now! i really hope you like it. mozart seems like the kind of guy to have a daughter

A cry filled the mansion’s halls, piercing the ears of all who heard it. It was relatively late at night, and everyone was gathered at the front door, staring at quite the unusual package. Gifts and shipments would grace the mansion’s front doors often, but this… this was something entirely different. Rather than a case of Rouge or Blanc, or a bouquet of roses or anything in the ordinary, the residents of le Comte’s mansion stood in front of a baby girl in a basket, with a tag attached reading, “My name is Asuka. Please take care of me.”

“Asuka… Just like- Ah, never mind,” Sebastian started, waving his hand. He bent down to pick the screaming infant up, only to have her screech even louder, and swat her hands around in an angry little tornado.

“Sebas, you’re holding her wrong! You need to-” Arthur’s attempts at calming Asuka were even more fruitless, with her fighting to wriggle out of his arms. He passed her on to Theo, who scared her. She was given to Comte, then Leonardo, then eventually everyone in the room before being returned to her basket.

Vincent looked downwards, his mouth tugged downwards in a frown. “What do we do? I feel so bad for her, she won’t even stop crying. Poor little baby…”

“Broer, she tried to bite you!”

“She’s just little and scared! You were like that too once, Theo.”

As the younger brother clammed up, a final face showed itself that hadn’t been present before.

“What’s all this noise? Whatever you’re all doing, can you wrap it up soon? Or perhaps be a little quieter?” Mozart hissed, marching right up to his roommates and their new problem. He caught sight of Asuka and wrinkled his nose. “Arthur, did one of your little flings catch up with you?”

“No! She’s just a darling little thing that showed up on our porch and we simply can’t get her to stop crying. If you want to get her to be quiet, why not try and hold her?”

Mozart looked at the screeching infant, whose face was reaching a color as hot and fiery as her hair. “No,” he simply said. Babies were messy and loud and provided everything he didn’t want in his life. But, Arthur was right. If there was any way he could try and fix the problem, it was to try and hold this thing. Mozart took a deep breath and took the baby out from the basket, shaking his head and awkwardly cradling her in his arms. “There… there. I suppose.”

“You’re supposed to bounce her,” Vincent chuckled, guiding Mozart into rocking Asuka to the rhythm of his heartbeat. “Just like that.” They looked down, and everyone’s faces melted into shock when Asuka finally stopped crying. Her big, glossy blue eyes were coated with tears, but she stared up in wonder at Mozart, or rather the feather in his jacket. She reached her tiny hand out to grab it.

“No. You’re just going to put it in your mouth and get sick.”

Asuka scrunched her face and pouted, reaching a little harder for the feather. She fussed, to which Mozart simply scoffed.

“No.”

“No!” she echoed, shaking her head. “No, no!”

“She’s already learning to speak like him,” Arthur snickered. “Oh, isn’t that just precious?”

Mozart glared at him as he tried to keep the baby away from his feather. He sat down on the couch, holding Asuka away from his body as if she carried a disease. “How long do I have to hold this thing?”

“Until she goes to sleep. Mozart, can’t you take care of this baby for just one night until we can figure out what to do with her?” Comte asked, tilting his head to the side. “It would mean you can get to your music faster, anyway.”

He looked at Asuka, who was still making fruitless attempts to obtain Mozart’s jacket feather, scowling in contempt at her. “Fine. But only for one night.”

“We all know how ‘just for tonight’ goes. You’ll be with her on her wedding day now!” Dazai mused, earning another deep scowl.

“I am not fathering this child.”

Asuka began to fuss, wriggling around and squirming in Mozart’s arms. He moved his arms so that she was gently pressed against him. “There… I suppose.” He swayed his body to the rhythm Vincent showed him, slowly patting her back. Before he knew it, she was yawning and her grabbing began to stop. “Hm. I’m putting her down to bed. Then I’m going back to my music.”

“Are you sure you should leave her alone? I think she’s gotten quite fond of you!” Arthur chuckled. “You might just wake her up if you leave.”

“Are you serious?” He groaned and looked down at the baby. “I guess I’m going to go to sleep too. The sooner I sleep the sooner time moves forward. Goodnight.”

Without another word, Mozart made a quick stop in the kitchen to warm up some milk. He swiped some chocolate, and glanced down at Asuka. She looked so… relaxed. So cute, even. Mozart couldn’t deny that he didn’t like babies, but the child he held in his arms felt a little different. He didn’t like her very much, but he couldn’t let anyone else take care of her. For some reason, it felt warm in his chest when she would only relax in his arms. As if he was meant to be her father in some way.

He grabbed a second, little cup with this in mind.

When he got to his room, Mozart made a tiny bed on the carpet with layers and layers of blankets and pillows, and laid Asuka down in it. She stirred, and made little cries in her sleep. Was she upset that Mozart had set her down? Could she even tell? It didn’t matter, he still felt a little bad for her. “We’ll get you a proper bed tomorrow. I couldn’t put you in a drawer or in your small basket,” he sighed. “You’re annoying and I don’t like you, but you’ll get a crib tomorrow. Goodnight, owlet.”

------

The next morning was full of diapers, crying, hissy fits, and screaming. Sebastian had run to pick up some basic supplies, but it ultimately did very little in the vampires’ battle against a fussy baby. She didn’t like peas, she didn’t like corn, and Vincent had to learn that babies can’t eat pancakes. What could she eat that would make her happy?

“Warm milk,” Mozart huffed, taking some off the stove. He poured some in the little cup he’d carried and let it cool off to a safe temperature. With some strict, yet gentle coercion, he managed to bring the cup to Asuka’s lips and help her drink as much as her tiny stomach could handle. “What was so hard? Babies like milk.” He grumbled a bit and cleaned out the cup. “Morons.”

“Well well well! You really are like a natural father to her!” Dazai chuckled. “What did we predict?”

“Nothing. I’m just not a fool,” Mozart snapped back, lifting Asuka out of the chair and burping her. “The plan today is to get some more supplies. But I am shopping for them.”

“Are you sure you do not want anyone to help carry anything?” Jean mumbled. “I can hold items at the store for you and help take them home.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

Jean’s workplace ended up with a bit more than he expected, with a nice crib and mobile and a lot of bottles and sippy cups. The Frenchman blinked at the juxtaposition between the baby supplies and the items of war he sold in the shop. Mozart mentioned only taking care of Asuka for a few days. The abundance of furniture seemed like overkill.

At a nearby store, Mozart stood next to a stroller with his fussy responsibility inside. He scanned the shelves for toys, putting a set of blocks, paints, and a few stuffed animals inside. He stopped, however, when he laid eyes upon a stuffed snowy owl. “Just like Schelm…” he chuckled. He took the toy off the shelf and held it to Asuka. “Do you want an owl? An owl for the owlet?”

“Ow,” she replied, reaching out for the toy. “Ow!”

“Is that your way of saying ‘owl’? Alright, here you go. Be nice to it.” He paid for the toys and found himself looking in the stroller at the baby. She was cuddling her new toy and inspecting its wings and rubbing it, inspecting it for anything of interest. “It’s just a stuffed animal. Silly,” he chuckled. “Let’s get you home now. I have a feeling you’ll start screaming here in a moment.”

By the time night had arrived, the crib, bookshelf, mobile, and toys were all set up. Asuka was shaking a rattle on the floor when Mozart picked her up. “Alright, it’s time for bed. Come on.”

“Noooo!” she cried. “Nooooooo!”

“Yes. Come on.”

She fussed and began to cry, reaching down at the floor for her rattle.

“No rattles in bed,” Mozart huffed. “Here, I have something you can take in bed.” He reached down on the floor and handed her the stuffed owl. “Here. Your owl.”

“Ow.”

“That’s right. Your ow,” Mozart chuckled, setting Asuka down in the crib with her stuffed toy. “Goodnight, Asuka. You’re a silly little owlet who needs plenty of sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, he wound up a music box and turned off the lights.

------

“Papa, can I get the first slice?” Asuka asked, beaming wide at a large cake in the kitchen. “Better yet, I want the whole thing!”

“You can’t have the whole cake because you’ll get sick. You have my sweet tooth.” Mozart finished moving the cake to the table and sighed, “I can’t believe you’re sixteen years old now.”

“Old enough to get a boyfriend!”

“Let’s not go that far.”

“But you said when I turned sixteen I could!! Papa, you’re being unfair.”

Mozart chuckled and ruffled his daughter’s hair. “Alright, go sit down at the table.”

She did as she was told and grinned, admiring all the presents everyone in the mansion had bought for her. From personalized books from Uncle Arthur to a paint set from Uncle Vincent to expensive clothes from rich Uncle Comte, Asuka was surrounded with so many luxuries given to her by the people who loved her. She was adopted into the greatest family she could imagine, and by the best father she could ever want. Sure, Asuka had a bit of an attitude sometimes, but she always knew when the important things needed to be said.

“I love you Papa,” she murmured, getting up and hugging Mozart. “Thanks for taking care of me, and thanks for all the birthday gifts.”

He smiled, embracing his daughter tightly in his arms. “I love you too. I love you so, so much, Asuka. You gave my life and music meaning like no other… Are you crying?”

“N-no! I don’t cry!”

“Okay.” He kissed his daughter’s forehead and sat down at the table. “No matter how old you get, whether you’re sixteen or sixty, you’ll always be my little owlet. I love you so much, and happy birthday.”

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp scenarios #ikemen vampire mozart

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lastbluetardis · 3 years

Text

And Baby Makes Seven (10/?)

Things don’t always go as planned. Faced with an unexpected pregnancy, James and Rose have to work quickly to get everything prepared for their fifth child, and to prepare their eldest children for a new addition to the family. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: teen, 5200 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 34, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 6, Twins: 7.5 months

If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.

AO3 | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 |

Now that Ainsley had been let in on the secret of the new baby, Rose and James didn’t need to work as hard to uphold the facade. Sianin, bless her little heart, had no idea what was going on, but was glad that her mum wanted to laze around the house, which translated into Sianin getting plenty of snuggles on the sofa as they watched cartoons.

James seemed to be taking “over-protective” to a whole new level. He jumped at the chance to care for their children, either taking over or joining Rose in all bedtime routines. If a twin awoke in the middle of the night, he sprang out of bed before her groggy brain could even realize Hannah or Maddie had made a sound.

But when she brought it up to him, he flashed her a charming grin that never failed to melt her, and simply asked, “You’re upset that I want to care for my children?”

And really, when he put it like that, her irritation with him evaporated. She had to keep reminding him to let her help, though, lest the twins forget they had a mother.

James and Rose also used the opportunity to place more responsibilities on Sianin’s shoulders, to the girl’s displeasure. Since Rose wasn’t supposed to do most of the normal household chores, James taught Sianin how to vacuum, wash the floors, and a host of other minor but daily tasks.

Rose, though guilty that she was lounging around the house all day when she ought to be cleaning, was glad that Sianin was at least performing the tasks James assigned to her with minimal complaining.

Ainsley, meanwhile, took it upon herself to help her dad with anything he was doing and to check in with her mum to see if Rose needed anything.

“How long d’you have to rest for?” Ainsley asked as she settled in with Rose and Maddie on the couch for her nightly reading. Hannah was already in her crib for the night, but Maddie was stubbornly refusing to fall asleep in favor of getting snuggles and kisses from her mother.

“A few weeks,” Rose replied, blotting at the drool dripping down her baby’s chin with her jumper sleeve. Maddie scrunched her nose and turned her face away. “We’ve got a follow-up appointment next week to check the status of the bleed.”

Ainsley tilted her head to the side. “Why do you always do that? Make it plural? You said we’ve got an appointment, not I’ve got an appointment.”

Rose snorted. “You’re right. But your dad is joining me at the appointment. Plus, it’s an appointment to check on the baby, who is both his and mine. It feels wrong to claim sole ownership.”

“That’s actually really cute,” Ainsley admitted. She sighed dreamily. “Dad takes such good care of you when you’re unwell.”

A flood of adoration overtook Rose, squeezing her chest until inexplicable tears burned her eyes. She listened to her husband, who was in the kitchen assembling the girls’ lunches for tomorrow. He was humming to himself as he worked, the notes slightly flat and offkey.

“Yeah, he does,” Rose croaked.

“I hope I find someone just like him one day,” Ainsley said with a wistful sigh.

“I hope that for you, too.” Rose kissed Ainsley’s temple. “I hope that for all of my children.”

“How do you think it’ll work with Sianin and her soulmates?”

“What do you mean?”

Ainsley shrugged. “It’s hard to imagine having two soulmates. How can she love two people as equally and intensely as you love Dad?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, eh? Who knows whether Sianin’s relationship with Elena and Juliette will evolve into a romantic one.”

“I suppose,” Ainsley allowed. “But for argument’s sake, how would it work if they decided to let it be romantic? It seems so strange to be involved in a relationship with two people.”

“Strange as it might be to you, it’s normal for others. Love in all its forms is a beautiful thing, remember that.”

“It feels like it would be hard to make sure you aren’t showing favoritism to one versus another,” Ainsley said.

“Well, your dad and I have four children—we love you all with equal intensity and try not to show favoritism. I imagine it’s something similar.”

“Hmm. I don’t think I would want to be in a relationship with more than one person,” Ainsley admitted. “I want one person who is mine, and mine alone.”

“That’s perfectly reasonable,” Rose said. “You need to decide what works for you, just as Sianin will decide what works for her.”

Ainsley was quiet for several long seconds, but Rose could practically hear her daughter’s mind churning. While she let Ainsley think, she used the time to give kisses to the baby in her arms. The baby was finally getting drowsy; she had her cheek planted above Rose’s left breast, and her head rose and fell with her mother’s breaths. Any time Maddie’s eyes began to droop shut, she wrenched them open and gazed up at her mother.

Being the singular focus of her baby’s attention always made her heart squeeze with love and gratitude. She was the whole world to this tiny, perfect little human, and for a moment, as Rose got lost in her baby’s blue eyes, Maddie was her whole world, too.

“Do you think her eyes will stay blue?” Ainsley asked.

“I think so,” Rose said. “Usually if they change, they would’ve changed by now. All of my babies’ eyes started out blue. In Sianin’s case, they turned brown after a couple months. Yours stayed more or less the same color. And the twins’ appear to be brightening… they kind of look like Gran’s, don’t they?”

Ainsley peered down at Maddie. The baby shifted her sleepy eyes to her big sister, and offered a smile that widened into a yawn. Ainsley snorted and rubbed Maddie’s back. The baby grunted and wiggled around before face-planting into the crevice between Rose’s breasts.

“Silly girl,” Ainsley murmured. “Yeah, they do look like Gran’s. How does that work? I mean, I sort of know how it works. But her DNA is half you, half Dad, and yet she has Gran’s eyes. And apparently I look like Dad’s mum.”

“My DNA is half my mum and dad, and your dad’s DNA is half his mum and dad,” Rose said. “There are bits of all of our past family swirling inside of us, and it’s a lottery draw as to which traits get passed on to a baby.”

“That’s kind of neat,” Ainsley said. “It’s so fascinating that so many things have to happen perfectly to create a baby.” She paused, then continued in a rush, “We had the talk at school today. Y’know, how the girls and boys should be starting puberty soon, if they haven’t started already. One girl in my class had her first period months ago, which is mad. She’s nine! They also explained how in a couple years we’ll all be sexually mature and be able to make babies and so we all have to be very, very careful to prevent unwanted pregnancies as we’re exploring our bodies.

“They went over how a baby is made. Just the basics. Y’know, penis in vagina, sperm meets egg equals baby. I didn’t know that men released millions and millions of sperm when they had sex. That seems like overkill, doesn’t it?”

“What seems like overkill?”

Rose jumped at the sound of James’s voice right behind her. Her mind whirred, trying to wrap itself around the sudden turn their conversation had taken, as well as the fact that her baby was old enough to be learning the basics of human reproduction in school already.

“Did you know you made and released millions of sperm at a time when you have sex?” Ainsley asked, her eyes bright.

James was silent for a beat, cheeks pinkening and mouth going slack. He cleared his throat. “Er… yeah. Yeah, I did know that. But where did you learn that?”

“They gave us the talk in school.”

“Ah,” he said, wincing.

“Why do you make millions of sperm when only one will actually fertilize the egg?” Ainsley asked, cocking her head to the side. She then glanced down at Maddie, who was drooling into Rose’s shirt. “Er, or I guess two?”

“Actually, it was just one sperm,” Rose corrected.

Ainsley frowned. “But… there are two babies.”

“But they’re identical,” James said. “Genetically, they’re the same. Basically, one of my sperm met your mum’s egg, then that egg divided somewhat incorrectly to begin producing two separate babies with the same exact genetic code.”

“Oh. So your egg accidentally made a clone of itself?”

Rose snorted. “Something like that.”

Ainsley looked impressed. Then she said, “But still. Why make millions of sperm? That’s a bit wasteful, isn’t it?”

“It’s all about statistics,” James answered, scrubbing at the back of his neck. “Would you rather try to hit a target with one arrow or many? What if that one arrow is defective somehow? Or your aim is slightly off? By releasing tens of millions of sperm in one go, you increase the odds of fertilization; and the egg can be a bit choosier by only allowing the strongest of the bunch to fertilize it and begin making a baby.”

“Oh. That makes a lot of sense, actually,” Ainsley said. “What stops all of the sperm from penetrating the egg and creating a million babies?”

“Once a sperm meets the egg, it basically walls itself off from getting fertilized again,” James explained. “When sperm meets egg, a biological cascade effect begins. The woman’s egg recognizes it’s been fertilized, so it begins producing chemicals and hormones that tell the rest of the body to prepare for the oncoming baby. And it shuts down egg production so there’s no chance of multiple fertilized eggs trying to grow a baby after one is already growing. Imagine how cramped it would get in there. And imagine how hard it would be on the woman to have multiple babies all at different stages of development in her uterus. Evolution has figured out how to control everything so that doesn’t happen.”

“That’s so cool,” Ainsley said.

“It is a bit cool,” James said, smiling.

“It’s weird that women are born with all the eggs they’ll ever have, but men keep making more and more sperm ‘til they die. That’s way more efficient. What if something happens to the woman and her egg supply is damaged? At least with men, they can regenerate their sperm.” Ainsley cocked her head at her father. “In theory, you could help make a baby when you’re a hundred, right?”

James choked. “I… well… yes, technically. But my baby-making partner would also be a hundred—well, ninety-five—and since she would no longer be fertile, I wouldn’t be helping to make any more babies. Besides, the… ehm… the quality of sperm deteriorates over time. It’s not usually a good idea to procreate after a certain age. And, ehm… the act of making a baby gets… ehm… more difficult in old age. So… ehm… I’m not sure we’d… that we’d… Although I would truly love to be with your mother in that way in our old age, statistically it’s not all that probable so I’m not really expecting to… not that I wouldn’t want to… but…”

Rose kneaded the heel of her hand into her eyes as James’s gob ran without stop and without filter. She eventually reached over and pinched him. He squeaked, but snapped his mouth shut. Ainsley, meanwhile, was in stitches on the sofa, cackling madly as both her parents’ cheeks blazed.

oOoOo

Two weeks and two days after learning she had subchorionic hemorrhage, Rose walked into her OB-GYN, this time with her husband at her side. Despite the fact that her bleeding and cramping had stopped nearly a week ago, she was a little nervous to see what Elizabeth would have to say.

James must have sensed her anxiety, because he threaded their fingers together and rubbed at the back of her thumb while they waited for Rose’s name to be called. He talked to her about nothing in particular, filling the silence between them. Rose let the soothing rhythm of his voice calm her until Elizabeth appeared in the waiting room and called name, gesturing for her to follow.

“How are you feeling?” the midwife asked as she took Rose’s height and weight. “You’ve lost some weight since I saw you two weeks ago. Nothing worrying, but something to keep an eye on. Especially since you ought to be putting on weight as your pregnancy progresses.”

“My appetite is still finicky,” Rose admitted. “Nausea is mostly gone though. I’m hoping that will help. But otherwise, I feel fine.”

“Any bleeding? Cramping? Dizziness?”

Rose shook her head and stepped off the scale, following Elizabeth down the corridor to an exam room. James followed silently and settled into the chair beside the exam table. An ultrasound machine already sat in the corner of the room, and, familiar with the routine, Rose reclined on the table and exposed her belly.

Déjà vu settled over her as she remembered the utter terror of two weeks ago, certain her midwife was about to confirm her worst fear. Her pulse thundered in her ears and she began to tremble as her mind warred with itself, half of it trying to calm her, and the other half spinning out of control. James scooted his chair closer to her and leaned his elbow onto the table above her head. His warmth and scent surrounded her.

“You’re okay, love,” he whispered, kissing her forehead softly. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

“What a cute little bump,” Elizabeth cooed, squirting cool gel onto said bump between Rose’s hips. “Let’s see the cute little baby inside it, eh?”

Rose reached over and grabbed James’s free hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing tightly. He bent down to kiss her forehead again, then he brought their joined hands to his mouth to kiss her knuckles one at a time.

“Here we are,” Elizabeth said, tapping a few buttons into her keyboard.

Rose looked at the monitor and her heart clenched at the sight of her baby. They seemed to be about the same size as before, but Elizabeth was pleased with the baby’s appearance.

“They’re rather active,” the midwife noted, readjusting the probe when the shifting baby went out of focus. “Are you able to feel them, Rose?”

“Not yet,” she croaked. She desperately wanted to, though. She wanted that little flutter of life between her hips. She wanted the undeniable proof that her baby was alive and healthy and growing, because what if the scan was somehow wrong? Rose squeezed her eyes shut and focused deep within herself, trying to sense any ripple of movement in her uterus.

Her eyes shot open when the midwife tapped a few buttons and the heartbeat echoed around the room.

James let out a soft, “Oh,” his grip on her hand turning vice-like.

Rose glanced up at her husband, but his gaze was locked on the monitor, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. The sight of them made her own eyes prickle. She would never tire of seeing the awe on his face as he beheld their children. He treated each day with their kids as though it was the most precious gift he’d been given; this baby was no exception, and Rose could already see how in love her husband was with the tiny fetus inside her. She could plainly see him, seven months from now, weeping as he held their newborn for the first time, curling his body around theirs as though he could physically shield their baby from any harm the world might bring to them. She could see him sitting with the baby in the dead of night, half asleep himself, yet holding their small child to his chest as he rocked them.

God, she wanted that, was impatient for these visions to come true. Even though she regularly saw him holding and snuggling the children they already had, Rose was desperate to give him his fifth child and bring completion to their not-so-little-anymore family.

“Our baby looks healthy,” James said, his voice hoarse. Rose blinked away the visions in her mind’s eye and was brought back to the present, where her husband was no longer looking at the baby on the screen, but rather down at Rose. She flashed him a small smile that he returned before he focused on the midwife, his gaze intense. “But how is Rose? How is the hemorrhage? Is she healthy and safe?”

“Let’s take a look at that next.” Elizabeth zoomed out away from the baby, and instead shifted the focus of the ultrasound probe to the gray masses surrounding the baby. “Here we go.”

After taking a few seconds to orient James and Rose to what she was talking about, Elizabeth pointed to a black blob along the edge of the placenta. “Here’s the clot. And yes, it is just a clot now. It appears to no longer be actively bleeding, which is excellent news. The placenta is intact, which is also great news. Sometimes a concern is that the bleeding will cause the placenta to pull away from the uterine wall, but that is not the case here. I am very, very happy with what I’m seeing.”

Rose let out a deep breath. James, too, relaxed a fraction.

“Can I go back to business as usual?” Rose asked.

“Let’s not be hasty,” James answered instead.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Rose drawled, reaching up to pat his cheek.

Elizabeth pursed her lips around a grin. She wiped the expression off her face and said, “I see no reason why not. Obviously you are limited as any other pregnant woman is, and I would try to take it easy for the next couple weeks as the clot dissolves, but yes, you should be able to resume all activities as normal.”

Rose was fairly certain she’d read between the lines correctly, yet she asked, “Sex too?”

James let out a little squeak that had Rose rolling her eyes. Elizabeth’s entire profession revolved around people having had biologically-successful sex. They themselves were here because they’d had successful sex. Nutter.

“Yes, you may resume your sexual activities,” the midwife answered.

Rose nodded. She hadn’t been in the mood for sex lately, too concerned was she with the baby and will following the instructions to rest. She knew that James’s sex drive had mirrored her own in his double concern for her and the baby. While she still didn’t have the desire to drag James straight into bed when they got home, Rose was glad it was at least an option, if the mood struck. She’d find other ways to satisfy James if or when his sex drive returned while hers remained elusive.

“Is Rose okay to travel?” James asked. “We were planning to take the kids up to Scotland for half-term break next week. Probably travelling by train.”

“I’ve been cleared to shag your brains out, but no, the movement of a train will be far too vigorous for my delicate condition,” Rose muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

James flicked her nose but didn’t reply.

“Yes, she should be fine,” Elizabeth said, pretending not to have heard their exchange. “Just listen to your body, Rose. It will do a good job of telling you what it needs. Try not to overexert. Rest when you’re tired. Make sure you’re getting enough vitamins and nutrients. Things like that.”

“Thanks,” Rose said. “And while we’re talking about it, do you happen to have any connections with midwives in Scotland? Near Glasgow? James and I are going to be relocating our family. The move isn’t happening next week or anything; we’re getting the kids used to the area and the house we’ll be moving into.”

“And you say I’m chatty,” James teased.

Rose rolled her eyes.

“Funnily enough, I do,” Elizabeth said. “One of my very close friends. We went to school together. I can send you her contact information, as I don’t have it on hand right now. I can also reach out to her to see if she can see you next week, if you’d like? A consultation visit, mostly, assuming she is taking new patients and is near enough to where you’ll be living.”

“That’d be brilliant,” Rose said, accepting the moist towels the midwife handed to her and cleaning off her belly.

Elizabeth made a few notes on her computer, then printed out another scan of the baby for them, despite them having one from two weeks ago. She also scheduled Rose’s twenty-week appointment, which would be shortly after the holidays. Rose was already impatient for January sixth to be here; it would be the appointment when she and James would learn the sex of their baby, something Rose always loved learning. But this time was the added game of being able to tease James for his apparent inability to produce a Y-chromosomed sperm. As though that was something he could control. (A fact he liked to remind her of often.)

“As always, you can call us if there are any questions or concerns,” Elizabeth said as she walked them to the front lobby. “But I’m very pleased with everything I’ve seen today.”

After thanking her, James slipped his fingers between Rose’s and guided her out to their car.

oOoOo

The following week, James and Rose willed themselves to have endless reserves of patience as they readied their children for the trip to Scotland. It felt like they had to pack up their entire house to ensure they had enough supplies for all the kids, including toys and games in addition to the endless articles of clothing.

Robert, bless him, was accompanying them, to help with child care and to give his opinion on the work they might want done to the manor house. James had reached out to half a dozen different remodeling companies to have them come out and take a look at the work he and Rose wanted done; they were due to arrive at the end of the week, since James and Rose wanted the first few days to walk around the house and make lists of repairs and upgrades that could be done, both internally and externally to the grounds.

The train ride went as well as could be expected when travelling with four children. Ainsley was content to read for the entire journey, but Sianin loudly proclaimed she was bored barely an hour into the trip. The twins were awake and wanting to crawl around, but there was only so much space in the compartment car. James, Rose, and Robert took turns walking a fussing baby up and down the length of the train, introducing the infant to cooing passengers who fawned over how beautiful she was. The passengers were extra delighted to realize they were identical twins.

Finally, the train docked in Glasgow, where the Tyler-McCrimmons picked up a rental vehicle and made the half-hour drive out of the city proper to the manor house.

The excitement at the prospect of permanently living in the “castle” evaporated Ainsley and Sianin’s travel exhaustion. As soon as James unlocked the front door, they bolted inside and began chattering to each other about where their playroom should be and calling dibs on the bedrooms.

“I want this one,” Sianin announced, gesturing to the master suite.

“That one is off-limits,” James said lightly, tweaking the end of her braid. “Available to mummies and daddies only. Same with the guest suite on the other side. That’s for when Gran or Grandad stay to visit.”

Sianin deflated a bit, but perked back up when James reminded her that there were plenty of other bedrooms to choose from.

Rose, meanwhile, immediately began to visualize how she would decorate. The current color scheme of the manor was dark, but not gloomily so. Even still, Rose thought that brightening the wall colors from burgundy to a rich cream or ivory would help open up the space and blend the rooms together. It would also make the house feel cleaner, and with five children tearing it apart, Rose knew she and James could use all the help they could get in that department.

The floors were in excellent shape, having been replaced shortly after Ainsley was born. Robert had come to her and James when he was having the work performed so they could help pick out the color and style of the various hardwood, tile, and carpeted floors in all of the rooms. Belatedly, Rose realized that Robert had done so because he knew this home would belong to them in the near future.

From the foyer, which was lit from the warm glow of the chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, Rose stared straight ahead into the formal dining room that used to be a ballroom; the kitchen extended beyond that through a set of wide oak doors that were currently closed. She already knew that the kitchen was huge and open, thanks to James’s grandmother having remodeled it to use up more of the defunct ballroom space. The kitchen housed a long table that would easily fit their large family; therefore, the formal dining room wouldn’t be necessary until they hosted holidays or had friends over. Otherwise, that could easily be a place for the children to do their homework.

To her right was what used to be a receiving room, but had evolved over the last century to be the living room. It was already furnished with a couch, a love seat, and a few reclining chairs placed strategically around a television. A fireplace sat along the far wall, and Rose could already see herself sitting in the rocking reclining chair and nursing her new baby, or snuggling with one of her other four children or husband as the fire crackled merrily beside them. Goosebumps prickled along Rose’s skin at the thought of her and James making love by the fireplace, a vision straight out of a Victorian romance novel.

Blinking away that fantasy for the time being, Rose continued her mental mapping of the manor. Behind the living room was another room that had been a different receiving room—most likely, she presumed, a space for the gentlemen when the ladies had overtaken the first receiving room. Because God forbid men enjoy their wives’ presence.

James’s parents had converted that into a study area for James; Rose thought it would make a nice playroom for their family. It had plenty of room to store the kids’ endless number of toys, and it had a closet where they could keep their games. The flooring in there was currently hardwood; Rose made a mental note to chat with James about replacing it with something softer.

Extending beyond the living room was a narrow hallway that opened up to what had once been servants’ quarters. Rose knew that James’s grandmother had remodeled it and created a larger footprint, converting the area into a spacious a guest suite; it was where Robert always slept when he visited, unable to stomach being in the master bedroom ever since he’d lost his wife.

To the left of the foyer was a long, wide corridor with several rooms branching off of it. One of those rooms was a library that Rose already knew Ainsley would practically make her second bedroom. Rose planned to outfit the room with a variety of comfortable furniture and a desk. Directly beside the library and connected with a door was a formal study; she figured James would like to make that his space, filling it with textbooks and knickknacks and turning it into a place he could mark papers and exams on the weekends or weeknights.

Directly beside the study and again connected through a set of doors was a secondary study. This one was at the end of the manor, and therefore had windows on the two external walls. It was filled with plenty of natural lighting and Rose thought it would make a perfect place for her to set up her art studio.

On the opposite side of the corridor from the library and studies were a series of small rooms. There was a half bath that was mostly just a closet with a toilet and a sink, and two small rooms that Rose genuinely didn’t know the purpose of. They were far too big to be closets, but a tad too small to be bedrooms. Rose didn’t care what they used to be; instead, she planned to make the rooms a nursery: one for the twins, until they were big enough for proper beds, and the other for the new baby. It would be perfect, since the last room at the end of the corridor was the master suite.

Rose already knew the suite was enormous, yet it took her breath away to behold it. The room would easily fit their king-sized bed and all of their bedroom furniture, and still have room for more. Perhaps they could put a cushy rocking chair in this room as well as the nurseries; there could never be enough cozy furniture to cuddle her children, Rose thought.

There was a giant walk-in closet connected to the bedroom, as well as a double-vanity ensuite. The bathroom, too, was huge, outfitted with a tub and a walk-in shower stall; both the tub and shower had plenty of room for her and James to share, which would be perfect for intimate date nights.

Moving from room to room, Rose catalogued how she would arrange furniture and paint colors that would look good in each room and blend the entire ground floor of the house together. She took note of the flooring, and which rooms should be outfitted with carpets rather than hardwood floors or tile, or vice versa. When she and James helped Robert pick out the floors, they’d only had Ainsley; at the time, she hadn’t been able to imagine having five children. Now, she couldn’t imagine anything differently.

“I can see that beautiful mind of yours at work already.” James came up behind her as she weighed whether the library ought to be carpeted or left as it was with hardwood floor. He wrapped his arms around her waist and casually splayed a palm on her lower belly, kissing the side of her neck and sending pleasant tingles across her skin. “What are you thinking?”

Rose leaned into him, tilting her head back to catch his gaze. His eyes were bright with joy and soft with love; she found herself falling in love with him all over again. She turned in his arms, draping her forearms over his shoulders.

“I’m thinking,” she murmured, pushing up onto her toes so that her mouth hovered mere inches from his, “that this already feels like home.”

And though she planted a kiss to his lips as she finished speaking, his answering smile was dazzling.

#ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #soulmates #soulmates au #family fic #kid fic #baby fic #pregnancy #fluff #romance #my fic #and baby makes seven #soulmates verse #perfectly matched series

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concealeddarkness13 · 3 years

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WHG Post Games Boat Heist Part 2

Tagging my collaborators: @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Elvira, Rebecca, Captain Skeates, and Chaudhary!), @maple-writes (also thanks for Cirrus and Asher!), and @pen-of-roses (also thanks for Rowan!)

Nesri

We all met up back in our room a few hours later, and I forced thoughts of Churi out of my head. Some of us (me mainly) had already exchanged information, but we’d be able to really figure out what everyone found out. We all squeezed into the room and sat down in a circle.

Rowan looked over at Zenith. “I hope your end went better than mine?”

He grimaced. “I found where Evie, Alastair, and Poli are staying, but Evie somehow saw both me and Alastair wearing Peacekeeper uniforms, and she’s scared to get close to us.”

They sighed. “Lynn didn’t buy, or at least didn’t say the Peacekeeper story, but he seemed convinced that I wasn’t real somehow. Either it wasn’t me, someone was pretending to be me, or…I don’t even know but it’s not looking good.” Well, shit. This was worse than I thought it would be.

Asher nodded. “The Capitol suspected we might be here. I heard they have plans to stop us.”

“Is that why Lynn looked at me like a rotten fish carcass and not a knight in shining armor?” Rebecca winced. “Great.”

“She looked at you and thought you were wearing Peacekeeper uniforms or thought she’d seen you in them at some earlier time?” Elvira asked, looking at Zenith.

“She asked me why I was wearing a Peacekeeper uniform. But she didn’t seem particularly surprised. The Capitol must have already been lying to her.” He frowned. “We might want to change our plans a little. We won’t be able to rescue them tonight.”

Triel sighed dramatically. “And after I went through all that trouble to book an appointment with Snow tonight.”

“We will rescue them though, right?” Rowan looked a little panicked.

Zenith, ever the serious and calm one, nodded. “We just need to figure out what the Capitol is doing. Hopefully, we can still rescue them during this party.”

“Appointment?” Rebecca frowned at Triel.

She nodded. “I’ve been pretending to be a Capitol reporter for a few weeks, and I’ve even published some interviews with the stylists and a few mentors. I built up that persona so I could get close to Snow without too much suspicion. I asked to interview him tonight, but the appointment really was for his dunk in the lake.”

Rowan spoke slowly. “The appointment could still be good though. Get a better insight into tomorrow’s events maybe? Or learn about the ship, or…”

She nodded again. “I might need the help of my lovely assistant, however.” She smirked over at Elvira.

“How about two or five?”

Triel cocked her head, looking genuinely confused. “If anyone else in the gang shows up, he’ll probably recognize them from the Games.”

Cirrus grinned, taking a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. “If you need someone he wouldn’t see, I might have someone.” He handed the paper to Triel. “Her name’s Amy, one of the avoxes on board. She wrote this out for me earlier and seems in on the plan.”

Triel’s eyes shined as she read the paper. “Perfect. I’ll make sure to recruit her to the president overboard gang.”

Elvira looked surprised. “Oh. I actually met some of my old friends—they’re national thieves and pirates at large and unknown to the government. They’re here to rob the place. I struck up an accord with them. One in particular would very much favor a…bit of a ruckus. But Amy works too.”

“At the very least she could get you in,” Cirrus said. “I haven’t spoken to her about actually pushing anyone.” He paused with a sigh. “She was on stage with Lynne. I don’t want her to get hurt again.”

I winced, and Zenith and Triel did the same. Yes, we definitely needed to help her escape too. Triel nodded. “Thank you.” She turned to Elvira. “I do think I would need some more assistants, especially if they are our mutual friends.”

“Captain Skeates will gladly help defy the Capitol, especially if I ask, and the others will follow her lead. She’s a genius, as you likely know, Quartermaster Chaudhary has the guns, and Mirabel has the gadgets. Tell me what you need us to do.”

Triel grinned. “Oh, I simply must have more assistants. I haven’t seen them in a year.”

“Whatever you do, try and push him off the right side of the boat,” Asher added. “I convinced—” His eyes flickered to Zenith. “Some security, to move some safety equipment away from the area.”

“You mean the starboard side?” Rebecca asked loudly.

“I don’t know whether to be happy that worked or even more irritated with them that they moved it,” Rowan scoffed.

“I don’t know, I just told them the right side,” Asher mumbled.

Zenith eyed Asher suspiciously but didn’t comment. And it was finally time for me to interject with my own discovery. “I found an old friend, and he’s invited us to meet the captain. He says they will help. And he’s a horrible liar, so I trust him.” Rebecca mouthed my last sentence to herself, eyebrows bunched, pointing as if she was doing some calculations, so I laughed and clarified. “I’m just saying, I’d know when he’s lying, so he wasn’t when he said he wanted to help us.”

Elvira nodded in understanding.

I clapped my hands when there were no objections. “So, if that’s all we need to talk about, how about we go and meet this captain? Maybe they’ll know more about what’s going on with the captured tributes. They’re supposed to know everything about the ship anyway, right?”

“Ooh, yeah!” Rebecca said. “Let’s kinda leave at different times and go different routes so we don’t draw attention to us all as a group, right? The captain’s at the bridge, I’m assuming? That raised bit kinda near the back of the yacht up on top with the windows?”

I nodded. “That sounds great! I’m with grumpy!” I grabbed Zenith’s arm, and he grumbled.

Triel eyed Elvira. “Could we walk together and discuss our plans more?”

“Gladly.” She smiled a little.

Asher looked grateful as he nodded. “Meet in ten minutes?”

Rowan nodded. “Ten minutes.”

As Zenith and I walked to the bridge, I eyed him. He was serious, as always, but at least that meant he was reliable. I forced myself to smile. “So, you might want to be on the lookout for shady individuals.”

He frowned over at me. “What are you talking about?”

I made sure to sound nonchalant. “Oh, I don’t know. Any Peacekeepers who are more suspicious than the usual Peacekeepers. Something like that.”

He sighed. “Nesri, is Churi here?”

I flinched. “Damn. Am I that obvious? I need to practice in front of a mirror so I don’t give it away to anyone else.”

Zenith stopped and put a hand on my shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “He hasn’t bothered you, has he?”

I laughed it off, and I actually sounded genuine even to myself. “Nah. I’ve avoided him. Don’t worry.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “And you’ll let one of us know before you decide to do something stupid, right?”

“Of course. Thanks, Zenith. Just keep an eye out for him.” I kept walking, forcing the smile to stay on my lips. Zenith would watch to make sure that he didn’t bother any of my gang, and I would confront him tonight when Triel was busy to make sure he didn’t approach anyone else.

Triel

“What’s your plan then?” Elvira eyed me as we walked to the bridge.

I grinned, but my mind was still focusing on Nora. She was here. I could see her again. But, right, the plan. “I was thinking, since I am pretending to be an interviewer, I convince the Peacekeepers to give us some space, and I ask some truly scandalous questions, like how he can live with all the children’s deaths on his conscience while my lovely assistant dunks the Peacekeepers in the water oh so subtly. Then, when he’s good and angry, both of us work together to dunk the president. But now, with more assistants, the Peacekeepers won’t be as much of a problem, and neither will the president.”

Elvira nodded. “We can arrange for something suspicious to happen a bit out at ‘sea’ to draw the Peacekeeper’s attention and ensure they’re all within easy pushing distance from the railing. Good of you to think of them. How many assistants do you think you’ll need?”

“The president might take more than two of us, so at least two, including you, but there are about eight Peacekeepers around him, overkill if you ask me, so probably five total assistants, if you think five assistants can knock eight Peacekeepers overboard and then knock the president overboard. Is Chaudhary here? She could probably take three at least herself.”

“She probably could.” Elvira beamed. “Let me see…I know Mirabel and Sid are in.” She paused. “I don’t personally know who else she’s hired lately, but there’ll likely be enough to suit the need.” She raised an eyebrow. “The captain probably wouldn’t push someone in by herself, but I might be able to convince her to join us in, say, taking Snow out of the forecast.” She winced to herself at her pun.

Nora. I grinned when Elvira mentioned her. “That sounds wonderful! Tell me, is Nora still wearing a ravishing hat? If so, I simply must steal it from her!”

“Ah, which one?” Elvira groaned in understanding.

“She probably got a new one just for the occasion. Which means she’s not as attached to it yet. Maybe I could actually steal it…”

Elvira suppressed chortles, and I eyed her. “We should meet up with Nora and her crew before this happens to discuss the plan together.” I paused. It would be so good to see her. “And to catch up,” I mumbled. I spoke up. “Anyway, the schedule has changed, so it won’t happen tonight most likely.”

“I see. I think this will work rather well.” She paused. “…She speaks highly of you. I thought you should know.”

Shit. Damn emotions. I wiped away any evidence of tears as we kept walking in silence.

Zenith

We met up outside the bridge, and Nesri grinned at the guy that must have been Kiryth. He let us in, and I frowned at the captain. They wore eyepatches on both of their eyes, and they wore a pristine naval uniform. The parrot perched on their shoulder also had a tiny pristine naval uniform. Kiryth waved at them. “Hello, Captain Reeves! I wanted to introduce you to some people who aren’t Capitol puppets.”

The parrot looked over at us, and I tensed. It looked angry. “Yo ho ho!” it squawked.

The captain turned to us with a frown. “You brought rebels in here?” They paused. “Brilliant! What do they need help with?”

Asher looked between the captain and the parrot, looking completely confused.

“Understanding the multiple eyepatches?” Rebecca muttered to herself.

Triel was trying not to laugh, and Nesri was failing. This was…odd. But nothing I couldn’t handle. “Do you know anything about the guests being forced to see other guests differently than they should, Captain Reeves?”

The captain burst out laughing. “The parrot doesn’t know anything about navigation!” Wait. What? They gestured at the parrot. “She’s Captain Reeves, and my name is Smith! Now, about what you asked, I do have a machine that sends some data to a place on the mainland. But I have no access to the data.”

“Does, does Reeves have access?” Asher looked nervous.

“Or do you know anyone who does?” Elvira asked.

Smith shook their head. “Neither of us have access. Don’t know if you meddling with the machine would do you any good anyway. But…” They paused. “I did hear some idiot Peacekeeper talking about how this big machine—” They gestured at a machine off to the side. “gets data from these small machines that were integrated into the shockers that the tributes wear. If you could figure out how to disable those smaller machines, you’d be able to stop them from seeing things you don’t want.”

“Yo ho ho,” Captain Reeves agreed.

Nesri started texting, probably to Shine, while Rebecca glared at the parrot. She took a deep breath. “Perfect. Thanks, Capt—er…Helms…person Smith.”

Nesri spoke up. “Shine says their disablers might work, but it’s a long shot. Is there any way we can try it before we can try it on them?”

We decided on trying it out on Laurel tonight, but I wasn’t part of the group, so there wasn’t anything to do tonight. Just sit and watch for suspicious...Peacekeepers.

Triel

After we met with the interesting captain, Elvira and I wandered off to find Nora. Knowing her, she would probably be sampling the drinks.

Sure enough, there she was, sitting next to Chaudhary and swirling her drink in the most nonchalant and dramatic way at the same time. I grinned. It was good to see her again.

She made eye contact with us as we walked up, and all I wanted to do was hug her and ask her how she was doing, but we were here on business first, so I just sat down next to her. Nora touched her hat in salutations, and my eyes lingered on it. That was a ravishing hat.

I tore my eyes away and started my proposal. “I have a plan, and I would greatly appreciate your help, Nora. We’re planning on pushing the president and his Peacekeepers into the water for a distraction, but I would need help to make that go smoothly. We were hoping for that to happen tonight, but something came up, and we had to move our plans back a day. I will be meeting with the dear president soon to change the time of our meeting. I was wondering if you would be willing to let me borrow some of your crew to help out in this plan.”

Nora didn’t speak for a little bit, just watching, but then a smile slowly broke across her face. “Well, hello to you, too, Sparrow. My, but you are in the thick of it, aren’t you.” She paused, sipping her drink. “…How many do you need, and what do we need to know? Just say the word.”

I grinned. I had missed her so much! “Thank you. I should only need four other assistants, since Elvira also agreed to help. I am posing as a Capitol reporter wanting to interview Snow, and while I’m ‘interviewing’ him, the assistants will throw the Peacekeepers overboard. Then we’ll proceed to throw the dear president overboard.”

“I’ve seen the reports, and I’d wondered what you were up to. I believe you really did learn a thing or two from your stay on my ship. You’ve grown since then.” She added the last sentence almost distractedly, but it still made me swell with pride.

Chaudhary grinned over at me. “Four should be no problem. We have half that right here.”

I grinned back at her. “Are you volunteering Nora? I didn’t think she’d want to get her hands dirty throwing someone else overboard.”

Chaudhary grinned at Nora. “What do you say, love? Get your hands dirty?”

She daintily examined her fingernails. “I’ll wear gloves.”

Business was over, so I could tease now. I smiled at Nora. “Then we have an agreement. Thank you! But I must say, that hat of yours is simply gorgeous. I might have to add it to my own collection.” I ran my finger over the tip of my own hat.

“Yours is marvelous.” She beamed. “Touch mine, and you forfeit your fingers.”

Damn, I missed her. “But a sparrow doesn’t have fingers…”

“Touché.” She held up her drink in toast. “It’s good to see you again, Sparrow…Good to see you’ve spread your wings.”

Lynne

That night, I was supposed to dance with Aster, and I was supposed to look happy, but that Peacekeeper uniform meant I didn’t want to look at him. He was frowning at me.

“Ev,” I flinched at the nickname. “are you okay? What are you seeing right now?”

I swallowed hard. “You in a Peacekeeper uniform. They—they did something to make you work for them. You might not even be aware of it. I don’t know how the magic they mentioned works. And it’s all because of me. I am so sorry.”

He squeezed my hand. “It’s not like that at all. They’re lying to you, Ev. I’m not working for them.”

I couldn’t believe that. Not after the video. Not after seeing all my friends in Peacekeeper uniforms. Of course they would want them to tell me that they were fine, just to hurt me worse later.

His voice came out as a whisper. “Please, Ev. Please. Believe me. I want to help you. Please.”

“I can’t believe you, Aster. I’m sorry. They’re using you against me, and this will just hurt worse if I believe you. I have to escape and help you once I have enough resources to do that.”

The dance ended, and I walked off. I was not obligated to stay. I had to find Lynn and start escaping.

#writeblr hunger games #whg #writeblr

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unfunny-quips · 4 years

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Summary: Later, Din would wander down to find the Armorer and Kuiil testing the offensive and defensive abilities of their creation. Paz and his son watched on from a safe distance behind some blast proof barricades that had been brought as a tithe to the Tribe ages ago. The little one sat perched on one of Paz’s knees, eating the bang-corn Paz fed him happily and giggling whenever there was a particularly flashy explosion that the hovering cradle deflected or - often enough - caused.

Scenes from my Parables of Promise series that didn't quite make it into the stories they were written for, but I was still hopeful people would enjoy anyway. Will be updated whenever a random scene I like that's complete doesn't make it in to the main storyline.

Kuiil stood in the entrance of the Foundry, feeling shorter than usual besides the looming figure of Paz Vizla, as he waited to be granted entrance from the Mandalorian Armorer.

When he’d told Din that he would need additional parts for creating a new cradle for the little one, he’d expected the Mandalorian to either take a list and get them from the market or tag along with him and IG to pay for parts. He had not been anticipating the lad to direct him to the tunnels beneath Nevarro, nor was he expecting Din to further assure him that the Armorer would be both able and willing to give whatever supplies he might need for the project.

He’d gone anyway though, taking the indicated entrance to the tunnels and leaving Din and IG to barter for parts for the Crest in the market above. He took the little one with him, largely to ensure that - should Paz not be present to vouch for him - the Armorer would not think him an outsider and do to him what he’d heard done to the Storm Troopers. Even with Din’s assurances, he’d been in doubt at the wisdom of sending him down without a Mandalorian escort, only reassured he wouldn’t find his end in the tunnels when the imposing figure of Paz appeared from the gloom and greeted him cordially.

The Child in Kuiil’s arms wriggled and cooed, ears perked as the little one caught sight of a shiny bauble on a nearby work bench. Kuiil bobbed the little one gently, redirecting the toddlers attention to the Mythosaur necklace the little one wore instead with a practiced ease. It had been a long time since he’d cared for a child, let alone one so young, but some things stuck with a person and fatherhood was one of them.

“You’re quite good with him.” A cool, modulated voice said from across the room. Kuiil lifted his gaze to find that the Armorer had turned her attention away from her forge and on to him. After a moment considering his small frame in the door of her Foundry she nodded towards what appeared to be a set of low stools and a table. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

He adjusted the child in his arms and took the proffered seat, only partially surprised when Paz came to stand over him rather than sitting himself. His interactions with the Mandalorian in blue armor had been limited to the first day or so of being in the hospital, buzzing on pain medication. He’d learned more second hand from Cara and Din, the former teasing the latter mercilessly over the obvious affection Din had for the other Mando. He knew that Paz was gentle to the child and had saved Din’s life, which was enough for the Ugnaught to make an initial, favorable assessment.

“Has he eaten?” Paz asked, leaning his massive frame downward to brush a gloved finger over the child’s wrinkled forehead. The Child cooed, reaching out with the hand not preoccupied with keeping the mythosaur pendant in his mouth to hold onto Paz’s hand. Paz crooked his finger, bobbing the little one’s hand and electing a smile from the child.

Kuill felt a smile pull at his face and gently shifted the little one as the child moved to reach for Paz. “He ate before we came to the market.” He answered, allowing Paz to scoop the toddler up in much larger arms. “I imagine he’d be happy if you give him more though. His appetite has increased over the past few days.”

The mythosaur pendant dropped from the child’s mouth as two green hands reached to pat happily against Paz’s helmet. Large ears flicked excitedly as Paz bumped his forehead lightly against the little one’s, the child babbling cheerfully. “Are you finally going to grow ad’ika? If you eat well you might be as big as your Buir one day.” Paz told the child, gently tapping his fingers along the toddler’s ribs, pulling a delighted giggle from the child. Kuiil smiled as the massive Mandalorian tucked the little one against his chest and turned his attention back down to where Kuiil sat. “Just made some stew with some good flavor to it, I’ll get him some.”

Kuiil nodded, allowing Paz to wander off with the little one in his arms. He watched them disappear down the hall before turning back to the Forge, letting the hum of the Foundry settle over him. The Armorer set her tools down, quiet as she moved to take the seat across from him.

“You are Kuiil.” She said, golden helm tilting as if she was considering him. “I have heard of what you have done for the Foundling. On behalf of the Tribe, please know that we are in your debt.”

He shook his head, waving her words away with a hand the way he had so many months ago when Din had offered him funds in exchange for his aid. “I want no debt from you or your people.” He told her honestly. He’d spent a lifetime paying for debts, he’d not see them settled on anyone else if he could help it. “The only repayment I can ask is that the child is well and cared for.”

The Armorer made a soft, endeared sound beneath her helm. “Din Djarin said you would say as much.” She offered, and he thought he could hear a smile in her modulated voice. “You are an interesting one Kuiil.”

Warmth filled his chest at those words, a small smile touching his lips. “That is entirely untrue.” He told her, honestly. He was only an old Ugnaught, far past his prime with only lonely days of freedom ahead of him. Interesting was not a word to describe one such as himself. “Is this the reason he sent me down here then? I thought it odd he’d direct me to you to get parts for the baby’s cradle.”

The Armorer tilted her head, a low noise he realized to be a soft chuckle coming from beneath her helm, “Not at all. I am an Armorer, but that does not mean that armor is the extent of my craft.” She nodded towards a workbench a little ways away from where she had been working at the forge. Kuiil saw familiar tools laid out along its surface, along with several crates of parts set nearby. “If you would permit, I can aid in making this one a bit more sturdy than the last.” At his glance she added, “Beskar is usually reserved for Helms and the armor of warriors, but something tells me Din Djarin’s foundling will require a bit more than the standard durasteal for a buycika.”

Kuiil felt a smile pull his face wide at the idea. He’d never worked with beskar before. Too rare, to precious a resource, not meant to be used on the kinds of things Kuiil worked on. His fingers itched at the thought of getting to craft with it, see what the legendary iron could do. “Indeed.” He agreed, then paused as his eyes landing on some of Paz’s weaponry the other Mandalorian had set aside in the Foundry. “Perhaps something a bit more than just extra armor?”

The Armorer tilted her head, Helm shifting in such a way he could tell she was following his gaze. “Ah.” She said, and Kuiil heard the moment she understood what he was suggesting. “Yes. I rather think some additional security protocols would be rather beneficial. Shall we?”

Kuiil nodded, getting to his feet as she rose and following her lead eagerly as they began going over his initial plans and making the changes they deemed necessary. Adjustments would need to be made to account for the additions they were making, but between his own experience and the skill of the Armorer he was rather certain they could make something suitable for a child so often in trouble. As the Armorer began gathering equipment, Kuiil glanced over his notes, considering how feasible it would be to rig up a tracking jammer with the spare parts he could see laying about.

He would need to remember to thank Din later when he saw him next. He hadn’t had so much fun working on a new creation in centuries.

Later, Din would wander down to the hours later to find the Armorer and Kuiil testing the offensive and defensive abilities of their creation. Paz and his son watched on from a safe distance behind some blast proof barricades that had been brought as a tithe to the Tribe ages ago. The little one sat perched on one of Paz’s knees, eating the bang-corn Paz fed him happily and giggling whenever there was a particularly flashy explosion that the hovering cradle deflected or - often enough - caused.

Perhaps the the addition of the Whistling Birds was a tad overkill - even by Din’s standards - but Kuiil and the Armorer looked so pleased when their creation all but disintegrated the mock Storm Trooper they’d fashioned with scavenged gear that he hadn’t the heart to say anything. Besides, he was too enamored with the Mudhorn signet emblazoned on the side of the cradle too much to ever give them any kind of feedback that wasn’t overwhelmingly positive.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #Baby Yoda #The Armorer #Kuiil #Paz Vizla #everybody lives #fic #my writing #mandalorian fic #some paz/din #more to be included later #kuiil and the armorer are bros #parables of promise

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keelywolfe · 5 years

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FIC: Joint Effort (baon)

Summary: Jeff is getting back on his feet and that’s pretty nice. He’s not so sure about Red and Sans’s version of helping, though.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationship, Humor, Marijuana Usage

Notes: I’m getting my timeline a little scattered, but man did I need something funny and cute.

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Staying in New New Home was nice.

Honestly, one of the nicest places Jeff ever lived and there was something about knowing that if he went outside for a walk at least one person was bound to wave at him, and if it was a skeleton or a Bun or even a Moldsmal, it was, well. It was nice.

Not that Jeff was walking that much, he was only just back on his feet. Blue spent a decent amount of time this morning scolding him not to overdo it, doublechecked that he had his phone and that he’d call if he needed to, and gave him a sack lunch before shooing him out the door.

Maybe it was a little overkill for a walk over to Stretch’s house, but the kindness of it made a warm glow settle in Jeff’s middle and that was a nice change from the itch of his healing stitches. It reminded him a bit of how it felt for Stretch to pull his soul out, but that memory was blurred through pain medicine. Maybe someday he could persuade Stretch to do it again, just to compare his memory to reality. But not today.

Today they were hanging out to celebrate Jeff’s return to being upright. Stretch seemed all for the bag lunch anyway, promptly stealing it and now they were sitting in the backyard together sharing the chocolate chip cookies while the nice, healthy sandwich on wheat sat wilting in the heat, sad and ignored.

The chickens wandered around the yard, occasionally inspecting their feet for possible goodies. This was nice, too, sitting in comfortable silence with a friend, sharing snacks and company.

“hey, you two.”

Swallowing back a yelp, Jeff whipped around to see Sans and Red standing behind them, lounging back against the large tree. He didn’t really know either of them well, Sans a bit better of the two since he’d helped out with the lab work that one time. But the matching grins on their faces filled him with a sense of foreboding.

Stretch seemed to agree. He slouched even more in his chair, rolling his eye lights as he reached out lazily to snuff his cigarette out in the nearby ashtray. “hey, you two back. what do you want?”

“aww, that ain’t nice, honey bun,” Red shook his head sadly. “maybe we just came to visit you and your little feathery dinosaurs for andy’s first real outing.”

“maybe. except every time you come over you have an agenda, short stack, and it better not be trying to sneak in more of your spy shit.”

“i’m here, too,” Sans pointed out. “what’s the agenda, do i need to take notes? got a pen i can borrow?”

“like you’d do anything he says? i know you, you have your own shit planned. better not let him be rubbing off on you and you can skip all the puns around that, i’ve already thought of all the good ones and the statute of limitations isn’t up.”

“rubbing ‘em out as we speak,” Sans said solemnly. “now, if you’re through your daily quota of paranoia, we brought you both a gift.”

“you can’t have any cookies.”

“we ain’t after the fucking cookies. besides the blueberry would hand some over himself if we asked and you know it.” Red nudged Sans ungently and got a sharp elbow to the ribs for his trouble. “show ‘em.”

With theatrical flare, Sans reached into his hoodie pocket and withdrew what to Jeff’s inexperienced eye looked like a joint. “ta fucking da.”

From Stretch’s brutally unimpressed expression, he probably wasn’t very excited. “seriously?”

“c’mon, please?” Sans wheedled, hands clasped together in a pantomime of pleading. “we haven’t smoked since you hooked your anchor to the edgelord.”

“yeah, because the last time my brother was ready to commit a couple murders over what we did to his sofa.”

“he got a new one! besides, can’t burn any of the good furniture if we stay out here. it’ll be fun! andy, talk to him.”

Jeff froze, looking between the twin earnestly pleading expressions (it was oddly disturbing on Red’s face) and Stretch’s skeptical one. “Um. I don’t mind if you guys want to?”

“don’t go into infomercials, kid, you ain’t so good at the ringing endorsements,” Red said dryly. “c’mon, i doubledchecked, it won’t interact bad with your meds.”

“ixnay,” Sans hissed. Stretch only sighed.

“of course you did, you shit. you know, i need to stop bitching about my brother being controlling because you’re valedictorian with an advanced degree in meddling.”

“yeah, yeah, me and those kids with the dog,” Red waved that away. ”c’mon, we could all use some chill. either smoke with us, or sansy and i’ll go back to my place and do it there.”

“give me that,” Stretch said irritably, reaching for the roll. Sans let him pluck it away. He flicked his lighter and held it to the end until it kindled, inhaling deeply. Breathed out a cloud of smoke with a faint cough, “at least if you’re here i can keep an eye on you.”

“oh, yeah, you’re great as adult supervision. i feel safer already.” Sans took it back when Stretch held it out, taking a hit of his own. He held it out to Jeff, “give this a try, andy.”

“Um, that’s okay?” Jeff said meekly. “I tried it in college, it doesn’t do much for me. I don’t want to waste it.”

“can’t hurt to take a hit then,” Red said reasonably. “give it a try. what could wrong?”

~~*~~

“He is hot as hell, though, right?” Jeff slurred out, blinking up dazedly at the bright blue of the sky.

The path of his descent to laying on the grass was only a little convoluted. Starting with his feet being suddenly too hot, so he kicked off his shoes and the grass felt so good on his bare feet he decided that laying on it would feel even better. It did, all cool, faintly prickly glory and that mingled with sweet relaxation lapping over him was a hell of a lot better than simply nice.

He was pretty sure one of the chickens was trying to preen his hair. He damn well hoped it was a chicken.

“the edgelord?” Came from next to him where Sans had joined in on his magnificent quest to the grass. Red and Stretch were occupying their own section of the lawn, solidifying it as a common goal. Sans didn’t wait for Jeff to reply, only added with lazy fervor, “fuck, yeah, he is.”

Okay, so, all of them ending up on the grass was a path Jeff could chart. This topic of conversation, not so much.

After passing the joint a couple times, —and Jeff was pretty sure he hadn’t meant to take more than one hit— the rest of the cookies had fallen quickly to their ravenous appetite. So had the sandwich and the little baggie of chisps, and somewhere in there Stretch was lamenting that Edge wasn’t home to bring them more snacks. Sans made some comment about Edge being a snack, and then—

Jeff wasn’t entirely sure what qualified as attractive to Monsters, but from his own observations of others around them, he was pretty sure when they were handing out the sexy, Edge went back for a second helping. Didn’t hurt to ask though, right?

From somewhere around his bare feet, Jeff felt the grass stir, then a bony finger poked the sole of his foot hard enough to make him yelp. “are you two discussing how hot my husband is without me?”

“nah, you’re sitting right there.”

“i didn’t think so,” Stretch sniffed. “yeah, he’s really hot, isn’t he. fuck, when he wears those jeans—“

“yeah, and those boots of his—“

“And that belt? Kind of, you know, draws the eyes down, yeah?”

The sound that came from Jeff’s left made him frown, trying to turn his wobbly head that way to see how a wounded animal managed to get into Stretch’s backyard. But the only thing there was Red and rather than enjoying the feel of the grass, he looked like he might be attempting to bite out a chunk of the ground.

“can we please not talk about how hot my baby bro is?” Red said, and wow. Jeff never took him for the begging type. “let’s talk about how hot someone else’s honey is. you!”

Jeff froze when Red pointed at him accusingly.

“Me? Oh! Oh, yeah, Antwan is hot,” Jeff agreed eagerly, sighing happily as his mental picture of Edge was overlaid with Antwan. Both of them obviously took far more than their fair share of sexy on their buffet plates, letting it spill over onto everything else like salad dressing seeping into the mac and cheese. Hmmm, maybe he could keep them on his thought player side by side, Edge and Antwan—

His introspection was interrupted by a loud scoff from Red. “we know he’s hot, we can see. how is he in the sack, now, that’s a real question.”

“Um.” There were many answers to that question in varying stages of pornographic, each battling with his dwindling common sense to be said first.

“you can’t ask him that!” Stretch scolded and gave Red a rough shove with his own bony bare foot. Jeff’s swelling relief at being rescued was immediately punctured as he went on. “i’m his best friend, i get to ask. how is he in the sack?”

“Uhmm…he’s…good?” Jeff tried but as answers went, no one seemed very satisfied with it. ”Really good?”

“that’s how you describe a mediocre summer action flick, not getting laid,” Red complained.

“don’t pick on him!” Stretch said, loyal even in his disappointment. “don’t feel bad, andy, edge is good in the sack, too.”

“doesn’t anyone want to know how good my boyfriend is in the sack?” Sans asked.

“no!”

“you ain’t even got a boyfriend, you shit.”

“Yeah, okay. Is he hot?”

Before Sans could answer, a pair of boots came up beside Jeff’s head. He stared in awe at the glory of them. They were nice boots, familiar boots, and Jeff reached out to rub a thumb over the dark, shiny leather. To his disappointment, they moved out of his reach and Jeff sighed sadly, absently looking up the long, long legs, up, up…oh.

Edge was looking down at them, arms crossed over his chest and that look should be patented under Severely Disappointed.

“What are you idiots doing?” It was a question, but Jeff had his suspicions that Edge already knew.

“babe!” Stretch said gleefully and made an attempt to sit up. It failed somewhere around the point of pushing up on his elbows and he sank back to the grass. “you’re home! we’re just…uh…” That laser of disapproval looked like it cut through the cloud of his high and dawning realization washed over Stretch’s face. He made a hasty attempt to change tactics. “hey. uh. love you?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“which one will make you less mad?”

“Neither, brat.” But he moved to kneel next to him, a gloved hand gently smoothing over Stretch’s skull. He made a happy little sound, not unlike the chickens, and leaned into that touch. “I’m not angry. You seem relaxed.”

“yeah,” Stretch sighed. The way he tipped his head into Edge’s petting made Jeff unsuccessfully stifle a giggle. “and we kept it outside!”

“Smoking anything in my house is unwise,” Edge agreed.

Sans leaned up with marginally more success than Stretch, holding up the joint. “you want a hit?”

“No, thank you,” Edge said dryly. “Try not to light anything on fire this time. Do you all want a snack?”

From his wince, they were maybe a little too enthusiastic with their response. But Edge only nodded, his thumb skirting over the curve of Stretch‘s skull a last time before he climbed back to his feet, and Jeff watched in bemusement as both Stretch and Sans lifted their heads to watch Edge walk away.

Or at least Sans tried. For some reason his head dropped back to the grass with a muttered, “ouch! stop it asshole, i ain’t lookin’!”

The door closed and Jeff whispered as softly as he could to Stretch. “I thought he’d be mad.”

Apparently, his whispers were currently set to high. Stretch only flapped a hand vaguely at the house. “nah, he’s cool. also, he can hear you, he opened the kitchen window. gotta be a mamma bear.”

Sans’s voice managed to be somehow vague and still rich with his own brand of disappointment. “aww, so we have to stop talking about how hot he is?”

The loud sound of dishes crashing made a round of wincing go through them all.

Stretch waited for the last of the clatter to fade. “only if you want something to eat.”

“i’ll think about it…ouch! okay, okay, i’m done!”

Jeff shook his head when Sans held out the joint to him again. Whatever snack Edge was making, he wanted some, too, and if the price was ending any chatter about how hot Edge was, eh.

Better to not take the chance.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name #kustard

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kanwriteseverything · 4 years

Text

Iron Bullet Legacy: Chapter 3

Heartsick

Sitara’s POV

I log my patient care notes about the tea Lenny prepared, Torryn’s audible sighs of pain when he laughs, and the lack of apparent complications in treatment thus far. Using a cloth, I pick up the iron bullets I’d scattered on the counter and place them in his bag beside his weapon. It’s getting late, or becoming early, rather.

I don’t want to tell him why my hand looks robotic.

“Drink that, and rest.” I’m halfway out the door before I even organize my thoughts. “If you need anything, press the button on the wall.”

The outside handle of the ward locks, only answering to my touch and Lenny’s. I lean against the closed door, staring out onto the desolate floor of the practice engulfed in the pre-sunrise haze. My prosthetic nerves throb, deprived of magick. I’m tired.

Human man, what are you, really?

By some miracle, I do fall asleep upon returning to bed. More of a coma than anything else. My magick is all out of whack. I haven’t had to heal wound’s like Torryn’s since the war. Ailments, minor injuries, and the occasional hex, but not so many severe lacerations, let alone on a human. I don’t work on humans nearly as much as I did. Peacetime has been pretty good to the health of all people.

The practice should’ve opened over an hour ago. I pull myself together and hop down the stairs two at a time, only to find Lennox calmly juggling a.m. routines and restocking.

“Mornin,” she hums, identifying my presence without so much as a glance. “I tagged and shelved the tablets you crafted yesterday.”

“Sorry I slept so late. I meant to tag those myself.” I scan her work, straightening a few stray products on the salesfloor. The pricing and arrangements are perfect. She always has this place running flawlessly. How could I forget? There’s no reason for me to rush these days.

My hair has yet to regain its pigment and my hand still aches.

“Oh, and Torryn responded well to the brew, so I gave him solids earlier. Don’t eat the leftovers. It’s a human recipe and you won’t like it.”

Not really hungry anyway. “Did you check the wounds on his torso yet?”

“That’s next on list after exchanging a few of these candles.” The candles. Her life will be easier when she doesn’t have to keep so many lit.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him today.”

“Are you sure you feel up to it?”

“Just focus on the practice, Lenny. You’re doing a great job.”

Torryn is hastily flipping through a grimoire in the back room. He has too much energy for me this early. It’s like he isn’t even injured. I guess some people just bounce back that quick.

I need to meditate.

“Ah, Sitara!” He turns the book towards me. “What do all these symbols mean?”

Good morning to you, too. “You wouldn’t be able to read them even if you were holding it the right way.” I flip the text around and define a few of the scripts on the page. “Fire. Storm water. Counter clockwise.”

“Lennox said it was a spell book, sort of.”

I prepare new gauze as he continues to scour the pages. “Well, we are mages, after all.”

“It’s normal to you,” he squints at the symbols, “but we don’t have many on our side of the veil.”

“It’s harder for humans to use magick.” Their bodies aren’t built for it. Neither is mine, realistically. “I want to check on your wounds and change the dressing.”

He gently lays the open book beside him. “By all means, doc. Work your magic.”

I roll my eyes, but I don’t think he even realized the pun.

In the daylight, I’m able to take a better look at Torryn. His black hair is tightly nestled up in knot, with strays framing his face. He’s much livelier, smiling despite sitting before me in bandages. The old gauze absorbed residual bleeding in the night. His face is much less marred, thanks to the vervian salve, but I’m more concerned about making sure that gash on his stomach closes.

Torryn straightens up when he sees it. “That looks way better than it did at first.”

No wonder the first wrap job was a wreck, then. He was probably only half conscious when he did it. “I circulated a lot of magick through you so your wounds would heal.” I wasn’t sure he’d make it otherwise. The cut was deeper than I’d thought, and managed to destroy a vein that would’ve required surgery. Luckily, I was able to come up with the energy to repair it using the circulation. It’s almost all closed up now.

“Sounds painful.”

It’s magick, not electricity. “Well, you were out cold and couldn’t have felt a thing, so I guess you’ll never know.” I apply the last of the vervian salve around the laceration and secure a linen wrap around his waist, abandoning the gauze since he’s no longer bleeding.

He picks up the grim as soon as I turn away. “Oh, hey, what about this one, what does this one mean?” He points at the bottom corner of a page. “I’ve seen it before, and it’s all throughout this book.”

It’s a rune… my rune, rather. The one I use as my magick signature. Back when I was studying, I’d practice drawing it in all my books so it would look perfect. “Where have you seen it?”

“On the bullets for my gun, and a few documents I’ve come across on assignments.”

He is military then? A freelancer for the military? “There are runes on your bullets?” I can’t believe I hadn’t thought to check. I mean, he’s carrying an F3, for fae’s sake.

He digs one out of his bag at the foot of the bed. “It’s the same one that’s in the book.”

There it is. My rune stamped on the bottom of his bullets, his iron bullets, for his fae hunting gun… both of which I helped create.

I jump to change the subject. “Oh, Lennox said she made you breakfast. Do you feel okay?” It’s rare to have non-fae in overnight care, so we don’t usually need to prepare human cuisine. Torryn’s plate is empty, though.

“I feel fine. I guess I’m a little sore, but she made the best meal I’ve had in weeks.”

Looks like her time living with humans has come in handy again. Honestly, I might help with replenishing our stock and overseeing most patient treatment, but she’s more than capable of taking over this place now. I’m just waiting for the right time…

“Speaking of Lennox,” Torryn interrupts. “She was rushing around lighting candles this morning like her life depended on it.”

It doesn’t, but she thinks mine does. “The candles help stabilize and recalibrate energy.”

“She seemed really worried. What happens if too many blow out?”

“Nothing. We live in a sakura that’s naturally one of the best magick generators for fae.” The candles are only a supplement in case my disease flares up.

His eyes widen. “You live in a tree?” He sweeps his arms out and raises his furrowed eyebrows at me. “With this much of a fire hazard?”

I can’t help but smile, shaking my head. It’s hard not to find his brightness a bit charming. Brightness. That’s what I’d call it. A combination of his smile and vivacity and humor. “They’ve never caught even a bay leaf on fire.”

“Still, it seems overkill. Smells nice, but overkill.”

“They’re unscented. You’re probably just smelling the herbs and supplies.”

He dramatically feigns devastation, flopping back on the bed. “All these candles and they don’t even smell good?”

I break into laughter, taking his plate to return to the kitchenette. I think he’ll be safe to discharge as soon as nightfall, but I’ll give him honey and keep monitoring him until then.

“Sitara.” He stops me before I go, still sprawled out, staring at the ceiling. “Lennox said you’d get sick without the candles.”

What?

“I don’t think she meant to. It kind of slipped out.” He turns to me, his eyes soft. “But she didn’t explain why.”

I suck in a breath, debating my response. Why did she tell him that? “I already told you. The tree is magickal enough to sustain fae without the candles.” His expression doesn’t change. “Try not to jump around. I’ll be right back.”

Lennox is back at the front service desk documenting a new shipment of sorts. I rest my elbows on the side across from her.

“What’s up? How’s Torryn?”

“Fine, fine. Good, actually.”

She blinks up at me. “Why are talking to me in that I-know-what-you-did voice?”

“I don’t know. Why’d you tell Torryn I’d get sick if you didn’t light enough candles?”

Her face scrunches up. “Well…” she trails off. “You know, I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I was tired. It was supposed to be an internal thought, but I verbalized it, making it a verbal thought, and he was right there. I’m used to being alone in the mornings, and a bunch more had blown out overnight than usual…”

“Lenny,” I cut her off, “It’s not that. I just don’t want you to worry so much about me.”

“But you entirely depleted your magick yesterday when you were healing. You couldn’t even move your hand!”

I wasn’t confident I had the time to spare for meditation during the process. It was important to catalyze the tissue growth as much as possible before working topically. “I understand your concern, but…” I can’t bring myself to say it. The candles aren’t going to keep me from getting sick.

“I know, I know. Don’t worry about you,” she breathes. “I’m sorry I said that to him. I didn’t tell him anything else.”

I squeeze her shoulder before heading back to the treatment ward. “Forget about that. He doesn’t seem like a threat.” I think it’s okay to trust him.

I think I want to know more about him.

#writing #writer #fiction #series #story #author #kan writes stories #iron bullet legacy

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jo-the-schmo · 5 years

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Red, Dead, Reflections Ch.4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

A/N: Finally! It’s here! The subtle romance plots! AH! Not to spoil it or anything, but there is a link that takes you to a song on YouTube, I suggest you listen to it to know what I’m going for. If it doesn’t work for some reason, just looking up Ain’t no Sunshine Shawn James cover. You’ll find it. I hope you enjoy it! (There’s also some real juicy reader lore so have fun with that!)

Summary: At the age of 23, you and your pseudo-family perform a heist gone wrong, leading you into a dangerous position. Discover your own history, the story of those around you, and gain new relationships along the way in this (eventual) choose your own adventure.

Warnings: Blood mentions, beating, mild torture, explicit language

Word count: 7256

Tags!: @zoilalove213 @eccentricc-catt Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Point A to Point B

I think I’m gonna lose it, this is it, this is how I die.

You stare up at the mountain face, mouth ajar. Which of my sins put me here? Which promise of revenge? Was is it the dying curse of that man I stabbed in an alley? This is my punishment. You had been on this mountain for weeks. At this point you were certain you had lost your mind. This gang was driving you mad, and the anxiety wasn’t helping. There was a point in your staring contest with the folded rocky edges that you thought you’d never escape the frozen grip of air here. Which was the reason that when Tilly asked if you’d help her carry some barrels with her you literally jumped for joy. The group was packing up to leave. No more chills, no more snow finding a way into your shoes, no more restraints from the rest of the world. Everyone was loading wagons, Miss Grimshaw was worrying about. John, whom you only got the chance to briefly meet only a week ago, was being carried and loaded into the back of the covered, wooden carriage.

Bill threw Kieran inside the back of a separate wagon. You weren’t fond of watching other people’s suffering, but you decided to leave this alone. You weren’t about to push your luck. Besides, it was obvious to you that they wouldn’t kill him, or even seriously injure him for that matter. He had information they wanted. You recalled your first memory of him one on one, it was two days after Arthur brought him back on Dutch’s orders.

________________________________________________

“Let’s let James take charge on this one.” He said, the smooth gravel of his voice bouncing through everyone’s ears. “He’s been nothing but a help to us, I’m sure this wouldn’t be an issue. Right, son?” Dutch was looking directly into your eyes, despite the fact that you were near the back of the room. He was putting you into the situation on purpose. You could tell by that look that it wasn’t to prove anything him, but to everyone else. Dutch may be on your side, but he takes everyone into account. There are many factors to this. You shut your eyes.

“Of course, anything to help.” Your eyes opened into devious slits, lips creeping into a familiar grin that you’d all too often forget you could conjure. It tied your stomach into knots. Not only because you knew that if you didn’t do this, there was a high chance of being ostracized, but also because of what you were being asked to do. Beating an already broken man felt like overkill in your opinion. You wished you didn’t recognize the adrenaline bolstering forward.

With every step you took forward, another regret pulsed into your mind. You’d never forgive Austin for that year. All those memories. But you’d never forgive yourself, either. You let yourself be swayed by him, enough to do what you did. Though, one good thing came from it.

Self-Control.

You grabbed the man by the back of his collar, forcing him to his feet. His knees wobbled, he was already afraid. You wouldn’t get caught up in it, you were better than that now. His clothes were messy, as was his hair as you tugged it with your opposite hand. The man’s deep sunken eyes were forced to look at Dutch.

“Kieran Duffy, huh? That’s your name?”

“Ye-yes, that’s my name.” He cleared his throat.

“Well, Kieran Duffy. Have you thought about how you’re going to die? Have you considered it? Or perhaps, have you taken in the possibility that we will be the last people to ever hear you say your name? That today may very well be the last day your name is ever uttered again?” You kept your voice low against his ear, his breathing hitched. Fear, although cruel, would be better than beating him to near death. And in your opinion, it was more than effective.

“No, sir! I haven- please don- don’t kill me!” You spun him around to face you and didn’t give him the time to react. You slapped him with the back of your hand, with enough force to cause him to collapse to the ground.

“Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!” You mocked. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” He looked up at you with confusion, rubbing the side of his face. “Don’t beg. Begging just makes us wanna hurt ya more.” You shoved him to the ground with the outer sole of your boot. “Beg, weep, cry for mercy. No God or man can save you here. The more you beg, the more my blood boils.” You kicked him in the stomach, but not very hard, just enough for it to hurt. You knelt down to the ground and looked down at him in the fetal position. “But you wanna know what will get this pain to stop? The only way to satiate our desire to make you bleed?” His gaze almost went through you. “Give up what little sense of loyalty or pride you have left and tell us what we want to know.”

“You’re too soft with ‘em” Micah criticized.

“And you’re too much of an asshole.” You didn’t like doing this, you were going easy on him. If you wanted to hurt him, you easily could have. “So, what’s it gonna be, boy? Are you a man first or an O’Driscoll?”

“I ain’t an O’Driscoll…I been tellin’ y’all that…But-“

“But what?” You gritted your teeth.

“They’ll kill me if I tell ya!”

“That’s enough!” Dutch commanded. Now it was your turn to look confused. “I think we’re finally making progress with him. But we aren’t there yet. James, take him back to his room.” With that demand now yours, you pulled both his arms behind his back, locking them together with one of your own and yanking him back to his feet. You could hear Dutch continue speaking as you walked away. “You see gentlemen, interrogations aren’t just dealing physical pain. Take a note from Mr. West here, he’s got the right idea.” You waked out the door with him in front, waiting a few more steps before speaking again.

“Alright, now you listen to me, Kieran Duffy. You got lucky today.”

“Wh-“

“You’re a lucky son of a bitch that they haven’t killed you yet. I’ve seen what these people are like.” You were bluffing. “And you’re lucky I’m not one of them. I wouldn’t have been so gentle with you.”

“How was that gentle?!”

“Shut your mouth!” You pushed him a little to enunciate. “Now you may think you know me, but ya don’t. I don’t like hurting people, let alone take enjoyment out of killing them. You might think the O’Driscolls will kill you, but rather take the chance they won’t than go dick first into certain death.” You reached the cabin Pearson worked from, opening a door that led to what was like a small, empty closet. You figured it was meant for wood storage. With one more nudge, you let him fall to the ground. You scanned the area, no one had come out of the cabin with Dutch yet. You hid your body from view with the door, reaching into your bag and tossing a piece of bread Arthur had given you to Kieran.

“Why are…you givin’ me this?”

“It ain’t much but it’s something. Tell anyone I gave you that and I’ll make sure you don’t make it through the night. Seriously though, think about what I said. I hope you’re not as much of an idiot as you let on.” You were about to close the door but decided last minute to ask him one more question. “What year is it?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me, what year is it?” You tried to sound more forceful with it.

“1899. Just turned…why?” That was not the answer you wanted to hear. You didn’t answer him and just closed the door, leaving him in the dark. You turned to walk away, making it a few steps, but were stopped by something grabbing your arm. By instinct, you whirled around with a balled fist to punch whoever the offending hand belonged. They blocked and pushed your arm down. Even though his hair was covered, you recognized him by the jacket before seeing his face.

“Charles…sorry.” You relaxed your shoulders. He hadn’t been at the meeting this morning. His hand had been feeling better, so he went out hunting for Pearson. How long had he been back? And more importantly, how much did he hear? “I should’ve warned you, I have very specific reflexes.”

“You helped him.” Shit, he noticed. “Why?” You were expecting him to be more confrontational, but his voice implied some sort of sincerity.

“It’s not that I don’t trust Dutch’s judgments. But I don’t find amusement in hurting people. I know he’s withholding information, but I’m not one to cause pain without good enough reason.” You sighed. “He’ll talk. He’s the type. I don’t see any reason to go overboard. Micah and Bill can be ruthless.”

“You’re very strange, James.” Your brow raised incredulously. “You’ve got experience. Everyone can see that. I only caught a little bit of what you did inside through the window, but even I could see you were holding back. You’ve got compassion. That’s something you don’t see a lot from folks like you.”

“That a good thing or a bad thing?” You weren’t prepared for anyone to be snitching on you, you were getting increasingly nervous.

“It’s a confusing thing. You’re lucky I’m the same way, or else I would’ve already told Dutch about this. Micah certainly wouldn’t like that.”

“So, you’re not going to?”

“No. I don’t believe in killing unless I have to. I’m not a fan of torture, either.” You stopped him from walking away.

“Why are you helping me out?” Hosea gave you a reason last time, but the vagueness of his kindness wasn’t enough to quell your concern. Most people wanted favors, wanted compensation for silence. You didn’t want to be surprised later down the road.

“Dutch is a good, honest man. But Micah’s smart. I’m not the only one who sees that. He wants you gone. And if Dutch catches a whiff of betrayal, Micah won’t hesitate to latch onto it. Dutch may not want to hurt you, but that leech will, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get Dutch to listen.”

“What do you mean?” You asked. You knew Micah was an asshat, but was he really that manipulative, was he that skilled?

“You just gave food to an O’Driscoll. Even if I say you did it out of kindness, Micah’ll spin it so that you’re an O’Driscoll too. That you’re trying to lead us into some trap. You’d be beaten even worse than him.” He motioned he head toward the cabin Kieran was in. “Let’s just say, I don’t like good men getting hurt.” His answer took you off guard. Before he could turn away, you held out your hand. He took it, giving an affirming shakes.

“Thank you.”

“Just don’t make me regret this. And be more careful next time.” He let go and turned away but continued to speak with his back toward you. “Oh, and I’ll be sure not to sneak up on you again.”

________________________________________________

You were relieved that he was still alive, your assumption of them seemed to be correct. Though probably insane and having loose morals, they had enough honor keep him alive. You were so antsy to finally be leaving, that you ended up doing a lot more work than you were asked to. Hosea was the one to tell you to take a break, and invited you to sit with him, Arthur, and Charles on the way down. You accepted his offer. Out of everyone here, you trusted Hosea the most.

It wasn’t much long after that you found yourself staring out from the top the wagon as the mountain range moved past you. Arthur was driving, Hosea next to him, and Charles across from him. You didn’t know much about where you were going, other than it was called Valentine and it had been Hosea’s suggestion to go there. The ride was certainly giving you plenty of time to think, and even more to worry.

The bruises on your face had long since healed, and only added to your paranoia. Mary-Beth was extremely observant, she had been the first to point out how different you looked without the puffy purple washing under your eyes. She said you looked ‘nicer’. This made you nervous. Thankfully, it seemed no one else took notice of your new apparent softness. No one said you looked more feminine, which made you hope they just had gotten used to you and would be less quick to suspicion.

“It’s already start’n to get warmer.” Arthur mumbled. The snow was sticking less and less to the sharp landscape the further down you went.

“Indeed. Seems we left at a good time.” Hosea added.

Though you were more than elated to be away from the dense cold, a sliver of anxiety still gnawed at you. What would come next for you? It wasn’t like you to not have a plan, but everything else got in the way of that. After Kieran said it was 1899, you weren’t sure what to think. Every single red flag was popping into your head. There was no way he could be outside the gang and still believe that. You weren’t dead, at least it didn’t make sense that you were. Nothing seemed to point in that direction. The only conclusion you had gotten this entire time was the craziest.

You kept your back turned to everyone to make sure they wouldn’t see your face as your thoughts progressed. The sun was high, world sprawling before you. It was incredible, making you feel incredibly small. Yet, at the same time, there was a sense of severity in the scene, like a slap to the face. You swallowed your pride and considered the possibility that had been tangling in front of you this whole time.

Did I time travel back to 1899? 120 years into the past?

After spending multiple weeks with the gang, it hardly seemed as crazy of a concept. The way they talked, acted, not even the most delusional of people could be like this. The fact that Sadie and Kieran believed them to be correct didn’t help your judgement either. You didn’t think you’d be as crazy as to accept this situation, but until something told you otherwise there wasn’t any reason not to believe it. You sighed and rubbed your eyes.

“You look like you could use a heavy wet, friend!” Arthur huffed.

“A what?”

“A drink, you dense bastard. God, you kids these days, don’t know a damn thing.”

“Don’t let Arthur get to you, James, he’s always been a little rough around the edges.” Hosea chuckled. This had actually been the first time Arthur had really said something ‘rough’ toward you. You aren’t gonna count it, you’ve heard him say worse to Micah, and this seemed closer to a joke than anything else. You saw Lenny ride past you, moving up to the front line.

“I’ve never been to Valentine. What’s it like?”

“Oh, it’s just a little livestock town. Sheep if I’m remembering correctly.”

“Are you not…worried about what could be down there?” You hinted.

“No? Why?” He clearly wasn’t seeing where you were going with this.

“No reason, just wanted to make sure it was safe. O’Driscolls and all.” You lied.

“Well, those idiots will be down there no doubt, they’re like parasites.” Arthur complained.

“What even is the issue between you all and the O’Driscolls?” Charles questioned.

“I suppose we haven’t run into them much these past couple months, at least not since you’ve been around.” Arthur began his explanation. “Colm O’Driscoll and Dutch have been at each other’s throats for years. A genuine ol’blood feud!”

“He killed someone, right?” You had actually been really curious about this, so you decided to ask while it was on topic.

“Yeah… Dutch killed Colm’s brother. Dutch and Colm used to be acquaintances of sorts way back when. His brother double crossed us in a job, almost got us near killed. Dutch killed him, Colm killed Annabelle, and they’ve been at odds ever since.”

“Who was Annabelle?” You asked.

“Dutch’s sweetheart.”

“I was sure Dutch was going to settle down with her…” Hosea shook his head. “Fool’s never been the same since.” You felt an inkling of pity hit your gut. “I bet you’re real excited to get in touch with your friends, huh James?” It took you a moment to respond to Hosea’s question.

“Something tells me they won’t be hearing from me anytime soon.” You were shocked that you had said that. Even though you hadn’t fully accepted what seemed to be the reality of your situation, something about it all just gave you the impression that this was far from over.

“You ain’t got a girl back home you’re excited to get back to?”

“Nah, nothing like that.” You rubbed the back of your neck. You weren’t lying about that. You had people to get back to, but not in the way they were thinking. You leaned back and looked to the side, the wagons ahead were crossing over a river. About a minute later, the wheels of the cart were cutting through the water beneath you.

“Get us out of the current, Arthur.” Hosea instructed. Arthur spared him a glance that said, ‘I know what I’m doing’. You were glad he did, because once the pushed back onto dry ground, you felt a violent bump. The sudden change in balance flew you a little closer to Charles, but he blocked most of your weight to prevent you from falling on top of him. Or push him over the edge, either way.

“Damnit!” Arthur cursed. You stabilized yourself and stood upright.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Charles stated simply. You heard Javier’s voice rear up.

“What’s going on back there?”

“I broke the god damn wheel.” Arthur sighed with discontent.

“Do you need any help?” He asked.

“I reckon we got it covered.” Arthur waved Javier off. Everyone began to leave their seats, you followed suit and alighted on the ground below with a heavy thump from your boots.

“Charles, James, help me lift this up.” Hosea requested. You and Charles stood on either side of Hosea, backs to the wagon, bent into a squat, and lifted the wagon with the leverage of all three of you standing up. Arthur went over to where the wheel rolled off to.

“Ain’t you a little old to be lifting that, Hosea?”

“Hardy Har.” Hosea let out a plastic laugh. Arthur heaved the wheel up straight and circled it back to the peg that held it. With a few shoulder hits to its base, Arthur managed to pop it back into place. You eased the wood frame back down then went and helped Charles pick up the few pieces of cargo that fell out. You placed what looked like a metal tank back in its spot and noticed everyone looking up in the opposite direction. You followed their trail and vaguely made out three shapes perched on top of the cliff. You couldn’t completely figure out what the shapes were, but Hosea’s wave gave you a clue that they were probably people. “Poor bastards.” Hosea comments with sympathy. “We really screwed them over around these parts.” He motioned for all of you to get back on the wagon. “Let’s not push our luck.” You got back up to your original spot with Charles helping to pull you from the ground. Arthur lightly whipped the reins on the horses and the journey began once more.

“Who were they?” You asked.

“Indians. The whole lot of them got the short end of deal around here, lost nearly all their land in the process. It’s a real shame.” They’re worried about Native Americans? Is this shit real right now?

“Where’s your tribe, Charles?” Arthur asked, turning his head for a second to address the man in question.

“I don’t know if I even have one. I know we stayed with my mother’s tribe when I was young…” You listened intently as Charles explained his past. He rarely ever talked about himself, and hearing his story was fairly heartbreaking. You knew the world was cruel, you learned that a long time ago. But seeing how bad it was for other people always got to you. “…I ran away at 13, been on my own ever since. At least, until I joined up with all of you.”

“Why did you stick around?” Arthur asked.

“What, you want me to leave?”

“It’s not that, I’m just curious is all.”

“I got tired of being on my own. I work well by myself, but it’s far too lonely.” He switched his focus from Arthur to you. “What about you, James?” Well damn. “You don’t talk much about yourself.”

“Known you for weeks but we hardly know a thing about ya!” Hosea exclaimed. “Though, you don’t have to go too into detail if you’d prefer.” He hinted. You weren’t great at lying, particularly about major stories like this. You knew you wouldn’t be able to keep the story straight. Tell most of the truth, leave the scraps out. You thought to yourself.

“Left home first chance I got. Wandered around for a while. Got into some trouble.” No need to explain that. “Someone found me and helped me out, been with them ever since.”

“That’s rather vague, ain’t it? Who exactly you tryna make it back to?” Arthur clearly was a curious man. You decided it should be safe to say first names, considering no one this far out would’ve heard of you anyway, especially with these circumstances that you were choosing to ignore.

“It’s a few people. Not nearly as big as yours anyhow. Only 4, excluding myself.” 5, you heard in Austin’s voice. “Sorry, 5.” You rolled your eyes.

“Sounds like you ain’t too happy with that number…” Hosea stated but clearly meant it as a question.

“Yeah, I’m not. Austin’s a moron.”

“Austin?” Now Charles was asking questions. “That your leader?”

“I guess you could call him that. Personally, I call him jackass.”

“Ha! What makes ya say that?” Arthur boomed like a foghorn. You took a moment to think of how exactly to explain this.

“Austin and I don’t exactly get along, anymore at least. He makes a lot of bad choices for the group and is mad that I stand up to him.”

“Why do you wanna go back there if you butt heads so much?” His accent drew. You groaned and rubbed your eyes.

“I care about the others…even him to a weird extent. He’s the bane of my existence, but he’s the reason I still exist. I can hate him all I want, but that’s gotta count for something, yeah?”

“Remind us to ask more about that later.” Charles intervened. He seemed to pick up on your frustration and went ahead and saved you the trouble. Make no mistake, this conversation wasn’t over, and you knew that. The group continued on in silence for a moment. Could you really trust these guys? They had been nothing but good to you, but that made you cautious. Every group had its infighting and drama, Micah seemed to be the main antagonist but with so many people involved more issues were practically a given.

You remembered the day you met Austin, the first few months after you paired up it was just the two of you. He taught you a lot, how to survive. But that came at a price. You supposed anyone can be driven to madness when met with enough desperation. You remembered the fear, the rush, the screams, the blood. After Miguel came into the picture, everything slowed down, you finally started to see reality. There was no end to the arguments you and Austin shared once Eli and Gina joined, but they never knew what for. Neither of you spoke a word of what you’d done. Even after all this time, everyone still treated you two like the quarrelling lovers. You saw where they were coming from.

It wasn’t much longer of the others talking that the wagon approached a patch of trees where Javier was standing in wait for you. Arthur slowed down to a stop and let Javier jump to hang off the back. You greeted the new passenger, shooting him a two fingered salute. Arthur pushed forward, slowly encroaching on the rest of the gang busying themselves with setting up. After taking a moment to pull in close and come to a stop, you all hopped out and met up with Dutch.

“Gather around, everyone!” He commanded in his usual projection. There was a brief window between his speech that he let everyone make their way over. “Remember, we are factory workers from out west who’ve decided to come out here after their factory shut down. We have to keep a low-profile, I don’t want any fuss. We stay out here for a little while, make some money, and then we’re back on the road.” He turned to the side and produced what looked like a lockbox. “Remember, whatever you make, the camp gets its slice.” He enunciated the last three words with more of an edge, a sharpness.

“And we need food. That means every day, one of you.” Pearson added.

“Now, let’s get goin’, this place won’t make itself!”

You left and followed along with the hustle of everyone else. Miss Grimshaw originally had you give Pearson a hand. You were surprised to see Sadie doing the same. You hadn’t seen or heard much from her since you’d first met her, she wasn’t much for conversation. You understood why. Of course, there was always the occasional greeting and pleasantries.

“Hello, Mrs. Adler.”

“Hi there, James.”

“How are you feeling today?”

“Not much different…” She exhaled.

“At least it’s warmer. Not sure how helpful that is, but that’s one less edge to deal with.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She was quiet for a few seconds. “How are you?”

“Same old, same old.” You flashed her a subtle smile. “Let me know if you need anything, newbies gotta look out for each other.” You covered the side of your mouth and lowered your voice so no one else would hear what you had to say next. “I know Pearson gets under your skin, so if you ever need a break from him and I’m around, just let me know.” She looked stunned.

“How did you know about that?” She whispered.

“I heard you and Abigail talking about it one time. I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was messing with the fire in the next room because I have nothing else better to do with my time.” It was true, they didn’t give you much work to do. “Imagining you with a knife will forever haunt my dreams. You’re from bear country, I hope no one messes with you, for their sake.”

“You really think I’m that intimidating?” You would’ve thought she would be offended by your comment, but she seemed stupefied than anything.

“Maybe intimidating isn’t the right word. I’d go with skilled and underestimated. Everyone seems so inclined to baby you, except for Pearson. I get where they’re coming from, but I can tell you’re frustrated by it.” She looked relieved that you noticed.

“Right? I just wish they’d let me go out and do some real work. Not any of this cooking crap.”

“Why don’t you head into town when you get the chance? I’m sure the others won’t mind as long as everything we have to get done is done.” You suggested.

“Should I?”

“Yeah, why not? We’ll just convince them to take us along when they head out, no harm in asking.” She agreed, and maybe you just imagined it, but she looked a fraction happier than she was before. Knowing you had a hand in that made you feel good. You kept on working until Pearson got mad at you for trying to stack some potatoes into a wicked pyramid and told you to run off. You saw Sadie snicker opposite of you as you rubbed the back of your neck and walked away. Some people just don’t appreciate the aesthetic vision you had.

“James, could you give me a hand with this?” Lenny’s voice called to you. He was unloading one of the tables from a wagon, having a hard time getting it the ground without it almost dropping.

“Yeah, I got you.” You jogged over to him, gripping the bottom of the rounded edge with both hands. With less weight on him, the two of you were able to safely lower it and move it to its desired location.

“Is this good, Miss Grimshaw?” He cawed.

“A little more to the left!” Her voice boomed, despite being so far away. You followed her request until she approved of the placement. The two of you walked back to the wagon to get started on the rest. He jumped up into the back of the wagon, pushed it toward you, and jumped back down.

“Y’know-“ He huffed a breath in between the phrase as you both lifted the next table. “I never did thank you for helping me, back at the raid.”

“You did the same for me, no thanks needed.” Your knees buckled for a second. “Arthur told me you did a good job on that train mission. Also heard that Bill fucked up pretty bad.” You joked.

“Did Arthur really say that?” He ignored the latter comment.

“Yeah, why? Did he tell you something different?”

“No, I just get worried sometimes.” You sat the table down and went back to continue the pattern.

“Worried about what?”

“I thought he was just trying to get me out of trouble, Arthur did most of the work. Didn’t think he really meant it.”

“Why wouldn’t he? You’re more than capable. You’re one of the most competent people here. Meaning, you actually think for two seconds. Not all the time, but most of the time.”

“Not all the time?” He laughed with mock offense.

“You can be a bit reckless sometimes, but not enough for it to be an issue. You’re way smarter than I was when I was your age.” The new table in your palms felt heavier all of a sudden. “Woah-“ You almost collapsed beneath yourself from the unexpected change, but Lenny caught himself (and the table) before you slammed to the ground.

“Sorry!” He apologized profusely, hand grazing past yours to stabilize your position. “Let’s just set it down here for now.” He said lightheartedly. You went ahead and helped him with rest of the ‘furniture’. Once it was all in a place that Miss Grimshaw deemed acceptable, Lenny thanked you for the trouble. You told him it was no trouble. That guy was polite if nothing else, his attitude was always a nice break from the others. Lenny was incredibly sweet. He may try to hide it, but it was clear he had a more hopeful outlook. You were glad only Micah seemed to bother him, that bastard would get what’s comin’ to him eventually.

Time passed by rather quickly after that. You kept yourself busy, helping everyone else with some small jobs when needed. All the girls were surprised whenever you offered to help with something like folding some sheets or anything to that effect. They returned the favor by setting you up with a small tent by a tree just adjacent to where you noticed Javier setting up his stuff. You felt a twinge of guilt that you got special treatment, but you happily thanked them, nonetheless. They told you you’d make it up to them eventually, which meant you had to be on your toes. These women weren’t to be trifled with, they were a sneaky bunch.

A few more hours passed by that consisted on you lugging boxes and sacks over to Pearson’s table, feeding the horses, and going around with Hosea to find some water in the surrounding area. By the time the sun and set, you felt hunger gnawing at your gut. Pearson prepared a rabbit stew that was ready for everyone to eat just as you and Hosea got back. There was a line by the pot, it reminded you of school lunches. You waited your turn, got your bowl full and followed everyone to the fire where they were gathered around. Everyone was acting really happy for a change, talking, laughing. But once your food was gone, you got lost in the sea of conversation.

You stared into the flickering shapes of the camp fire, mesmerized for a moment by how quick the individual flames blinked out of existence. The chatter around the fire started to fade from focus until it was near silent in your head. The heat on your face was uncomfortable, but not intolerable. The thought of how odd you found destructive purpose to be so alluring passed through for and instant but was all too quick drowned out by the sudden hollers of everyone around you. Your face snapped up to see what all commotion was about. Everyone was clapping, getting really excited.

Your eyes followed their trail to find Javier sitting down with a guitar in hand. You had seen the guitar before in the wagons but never asked who it belonged to. Apparently, it was Javier’s. He adjusted his sitting position to get comfortable before his eyes clicked across the group gathered around. The only ones not directly by the fire were Charles and Arthur, but they were still in view and seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“Anyone have any requests?” He smirked. When no one answered, his grin remained as he drew out a sigh. Using his thumb to pluck the strings, he created a simple melody.

“Yes! That’s the one!” Karen rooted. Tilly and Mary-Beth rolled their eyes in amusement. One by one, voice started joining in with a joviality you had rarely heard from them. It was enough to surprise you.

“In Louisville, I met a maid/ Mark well what I do say./ And she was mistress of her trade/ It was diddle-diddle-diddle all day!/ I put my hand upon her toe/ Mark well what I do say./ She says, ‘young man, you’re rather low for the diddle-diddle-diddle all day’!” Wait…what? Arthur cracked a smile and joined in, but Charles remained silent but clearly enjoying seeing everyone acting so ditzy.

“I put my finger on her knee/ Mark well what I do say./ She says, ‘young man, you’re rather free for it’s diddle-diddle-diddle all day’!/ I put my arm around her waist/ Mark well what I do say./ She says, ‘young man, you’re in great haste for the diddle-diddle-diddle all day’!” WHAT IS THIS? AN INNUENDO?

“I put my hand upon her thigh/ Mark well what I do say./ She says, ‘you’re getting pretty nice for the diddle-diddle-diddle all day’!/ I put my hand upon her ass/ Mark well what I do say./ She says, ‘let’s lay down on the grass and diddle-diddle-diddle all day’!” The tune ended with a fit of giggles from the gang, cheery smiles plastered onto all of their faces. Which is why they were easily able to sense the confusion melting through your brow.

“What’s wrong, James? Never heard a song before?” Abigail teased. You’d never seen her this relaxed before.

“Oh, I know songs. Just not any like that. What the hell was that all about?”

“Did your crew not sing tunes by the fire?” Lenny asked.

“Well, not by a fire, and not ‘tunes’ for that matter.” You joked.

“What do ya mean?” Arthur spoke everyone’s curiosity. You sighed, resting your elbows on your knee.

“We played music, not tunes. Clearly there’s a difference.”

“Well then, how about you show us this difference, friend.” Javier insisted with a certain childlike tone, as if he were trying to cozen you in some way. You pursed your lips and thought for a moment.

“Alright, if you insist.” You put a little more pep into your step as you moved over to Javier, the delighted twinkle in his eyes shifted to one of perplexity. You took a strong stance and held out a hand. “Can I borrow your guitar?” Now you were taking on his earlier expression.

“Why?” He gripped the neck tighter, it was a small signal of defensive behavior.

“I’ll take real good care o’her, I promise.” You slipped into the same accent he had heard you use multiple times. After that first conversation with him up in the mountains, it became a bit of a habit to go into the speech pattern. Your own little inside joke with him. Your warm response seemed to ease his icy position, he gently handed it to you.

As you felt the weight of the wood in your hands and the distinct course metal strings under your fingertips, a memory passed through your head. You sitting under and overpass in the midday shade. Austin and Miguel are talking about a drug trade and whether or not it’s a good enough deal to risk. All the while, Eli is guiding your fingers into the shapes different chords requires.

___________________________________________

“Like this?” You ask in frustration.

“Patience is a virtue, dear. Can’t rush these things.”

“Well, we need money, and I’m very impatient. Why can’t you just do it? You already know how to play, it’s your guitar!”

“It’s more sympathetic if you do it. People take more pity on little girls who’ve lost their way.” Eli was only a year your junior, but he had been on the streets for a lot longer. You were 21, he had just joined up with you all a few months prior. “Just trust me on this one, okay?”

“If you say so…” You yawn into your elbow, hunger making you wish you were asleep. “These strings hurt, are they supposed to be like this?”

“You’ll get used to it.” He laughs. “See?” He shows you his left hand and his right thumb, the pads and sides calloused. “No pain, no gain, yeah?”

“No pain, no gain.” You repeated.

“Alright! Let’s get back to it. Now, show me some chord progressions.”

__________________________________________

The memory faded as quickly as it arrived, the feeling of the strings brought a certain nostalgia to you. The ever so familiar scratch noise rolled as your palm moved. Your eyes slanted as you thought of the repertoire Eli had drilled into your head over the years. The songs were nice, not alone from the visions associated. You settled on a classic, rather your rendition of a classic.

“You guys have probably never heard of Bill Withers, huh?” You gleamed. They all gave each other quick glances to confirm their shared bewilderment. “Uneducated.” You fake gasped. You pulled a crate up next to Javier so you wouldn’t have to look up at everyone. Taking a full breath in, you centered yourself and focused. Your fingers moved almost instinctually, the side of your thumb pick the strings over the sound hole. It wasn’t a moment later that the breath you had been holding flowed out into your best singing.

“Ain't no sunshine when she's gone…” You soothed the notes, making them sound mellow. “It's not warm when she's away...

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.” The note stretched out a little more. “And she's always gone too long

Anytime she goes away.” It was at this point you looked up from your hand, noticing everyone staring at you. It took you by surprise for a moment, but you continued the song, with more strength.

“Wonder this time where she's gone

Wonder if she's gone to stay

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

And this house it ain't no home

Anytime she goes away.” You broke from the note pattern and gingerly tapped the front of Javier’s guitar as you continued.

“And I know, I know, I know, I know,

I know, I know, I know, I know, I know

I know, I know,

Hey, I oughtta leave young thing alone

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.” The note practically belted out of your diaphragm, your eyes shut tight for a moment in concentration to sustain it the way you had earlier. “Ain't no sunshine when she's gone...

Only darkness every day

Ain't no sunshine she’s gone

She’s always gone too long, anytime she goes away…” The way you trailed off the decrescendo eased the song back to it’s previous somber tone.

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone

It’s not warm when she’s away

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone

And this house it ain’t a home

Anytime she goes away…” You hummed out the rest of the melody. You got lost in the longing for other days. For the first time in a while, a wave of peace washed over you. The chill on your back from the night air, the heat of the fire meandering over your cheeks, it all felt so wonderfully familiar. But once the hold of recognition diminished, you were left with the peering view of those around you. The resonance of the last chord died out as your eyelids slowly drew back. Everyone looked back at you. You couldn’t quite decipher the reason for the silence, but you did notice a tension lingering about. They were all looking at you with varying degrees of intrigue. And to your right, there was Javier. You weren’t entirely sure what reaction you had expected from him, maybe amusement from how bad you sounded, but that wasn’t what you found. Instead, you found a sort of intensity behind his eyes. Awe-struck.

“I’ll be damned…” Dutch’s voice was the first to be heard. It was at this point you noticed that Charles and Arthur had moved closer while you were playing and Sadie, who had been looking down at her lap in a mix of sadness and annoyance, had shifted her attention onto you. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything quite like that!” He praised.

“Me either.” Arthur followed up. “It was good.”

“Yeah! It sounded real sweet. Very romantic…” Mary-Beth mused. “I didn’t know you could sing, James! Especially not so passionately.”

“Well-uh, I’m not really that good…uh-ha… Thank you.” You handed the guitar back to Javier, the movement causing him to bounce back from his stupor. He cleared his throat and spoke as he took the instrument from you.

“Where did you learn to play like that. Haven’t seen many people around here who can.”

“A friend of mine, a way to get money. He’s better than I am.”

“I still like ours better.” Karen chided.

“Fair enough, Miss Jones. Fair enough.” You retorted.

“We should let our boy James serenade us more often. Twice the musicians, twice the enjoyment!” Hosea smiled.

“Just don’t touch my guitar without asking.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Javier- oh wait, wouldn’t dream of it, pard’ner.”

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #kieran duffy #arthur morgan #charles smith #lenny summers #karen jones #javier escuella #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #susan grimshaw #sadie adler #mary-beth gaskill

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originaldisneydescendants · 6 years

Text

So some time ago I had a kind of weird Tangled dream... and it turned into a theory... I won’t tag for spoilers since it IS all just a hypothesis but if you don’t like them then I might suggest you keep scrolling just in case.

Before you start reading though, keep in mind that if you think I ship these two in ANY way that is inappropriate for their current ages or Disney in general, I will PERSONALLY put together a large southern gospel choir to knock on your front door and sing you a very loud and glorious “NO.” I don’t even ship Rapunzel and Eugene that way and we KNOW they get married. SO WIPE THAT FROM YOUR THOUGHTS RIGHT NOW!! THIS. STAYS. INNOCENT.

EDIT: Please read the WHOLE thing before sending me messages.

After I had noticed how many parallels there were between Rapunzel and Eugene with Cassandra and Varian (both in Great Expotations and in general: EX. both involve an older character that starts out rather cynical and guarded who began life as an orphan then slowly lets down their defenses with the younger, perky, passionate, creative, buck toothed, freckled, son/daughter of some influential leader, (that’s not even all of the similarities) and if Eugene really IS 26 and that’s what the show seems to be suggesting with him appearing with his adult design in a flashback that takes place 8 years prior, and if Cass IS 22 as I suspect she is, then that would mean they have the EXACT same age gap and all four characters are four years apart from each other). I... don’t think that’s sheer coincidence. Along with what could be read as possible foreshadowing (Ex. Andrew calling Cassandra “Cassie” in an episode set immediately after Great Expotations and “venomous cobra man” is a lot more suiting now than it used to be, etc.), I started to wonder if maybe it was possible that they could end up someday, being a foil pair to our romantic leads?

HEAR ME OUT.

I didn't think much of it at first because I’ve been way off on predictions before, I wasn’t in full favor of shipping them yet, and I thought I could simply be misreading and the parallels are all just coincidence until the very night that this occurred to me, I dreamed of the episode 'What the Hair?!' and everything was the same except when everything came crashing down the dialogue was switched so it was now Cass and Varian saying Raps and Eugene's lines and even making the same expressions, holding hands etc. but they were still in the same locations that they actually were on the show (I've had a lot of theories for a lot of shows but as far as them making it into my dreams, this is a first).

I woke up very confused because I thought it was canon and was wondering why fans weren't paying any attention to it. You'd think they'd be losing their minds! After I woke up a little more I thought...

"Wait! That never happened! It couldn’t have! 1.) 14 and maybe-20-something? They can't get away with that! This is Tangled, not The Garden of Words! 2.) They just met like five minutes ago! YEESH! That’s fast even by Disney fairytale standards!!"

^^^That boy's face says "I LIKE you, but not in a 'You mean the world to me' kind of way, more like a 'Wow, I just noticed how attractive you are. Are you free this Friday?' kind of way."^^^

I almost outright dismissed it as disturbingly nonsensical but didn’t because the more and more I thought about it, the more the possibility of them ending up together at some point down the road actually started to not only seem plausible... but actually make perfect sense for a LOT of reasons!

Think about it! First off, if the show itself is centered around Rapunzel and Eugene's romance then wouldn't you expect any secondary relationship on the show to be just that? A foil? A complimentary opposite? Classical music vs Rock and Roll? The very earliest they could really even suggest that Cass maybe starting to reciprocate or that she could someday have romantic feelings for Varian would probably be at the very end of the show when he is likely to be more matured both physically and emotionally and all conflicts have been resolved. This would also explain why it seems like it's always hinted at that Cass could have a romantic interest in the future, but a real one hasn't been introduced yet (at least not one that we'd recognize right away). This also makes sense in that the crew behind the show might not want to develop another romance on-screen and risk overshadowing the main pair with new characters.

"Besides, I don't have time for dreams. My dad taught me at a very young age to focus on the here and now." - Cassandra in Cassandra v Eugene.

I read her keeping the rose Andrew gave her at the end of Under Raps (especially after her earlier expression of distaste in the idea of romance) as her saying "Yeah, the whole thing was a total charade, but I actually kind of enjoyed it and I might not be opposed to having a REAL romance with someone SOMEDAY."

Ways that they would be a foil could probably include how it takes years for them to develop into anything romantic rather than just a day or two, it’s an older girl with a younger guy rather than the other way around, nocturnal animal friends vs diurnal which I pointed out in a linked post above as part of a sun vs moon motif (I've noticed a lot of background imagery tying Cassandra to the moon so there's some theory fuel for ya), and how, while we already know that Rapunzel and Eugene live happily ever after, almost NOTHING is certain about the future for Cassandra and Varian at this point in time like whether or not they’ll even end up still being friends. Neither of them are in the Ever After short so there's that too.

Something else I noticed is when this show tends to emphasize something, it seems like it is subject to change and contrast seems to be a major theme in this show. ( @starxapple ) As ‘Kevin’ pointed out, Varian’s cuteness/sweetness was very played up in the first episode and he called out how this meant Varian would became a villain. By that logic, it’s really played up on how Varian is a kid and, accordingly, how Cassandra sees him as such. Varian isn’t an adult, but he isn’t exactly a child either. He’s an adolescent in that confusing and emotionally turbulent stage right in between. He’s old enough to be held responsible for his actions, but not necessarily mature enough to take that responsibility himself.

This to me suggests that we will most likely get to see him really grow up on this show, backed up by the fact that it is set over a few years and no doubt Varian is FAR from a static character with a great deal of potential for growth.The whole point of his character might be to make a point about maturity and at what point should someone be truly considered an adult? 18 isn’t just some magical age when someone goes from naive kid to wise grown up because, in reality, people mature at different rates and it all depends on individual experiences. Someone lacking emotional maturity enough to be honest about their own faults and limits definitely wouldn’t be ready for a serious romance with anyone, much less an older person like her.

(My friend, Chi and I both explained why the fact that they meet before he is an adult isn’t really a problem in this post here. In fact, if they ever WERE to become a romance in the future, it would actually be essential for SOME emotional connection to be made BEFORE he became a villain for the reasons stated.) Sorry if this chart is hard to decipher but hopefully my earlier explanation helps it to make sense.

When the show is nearing its end, I wouldn’t be surprised if they started playing up how Varian has grown up (a lot taller, more responsible, calling Eugene by his real name, they may give him facial hair etc). This growth may also be emphasized by Cassandra’s view of him changing from ‘kid friend’ to 'dangerous enemy' then finally to ‘potential romantic interest’ at some point in the future. By the time the show is over, Varian should be at least around 16-17 which (again if I’m right about Cass’s age) would place them both at only slightly younger than Rapunzel and Eugene were in the movie so I wouldn’t be too surprised if the possible foreshadowing became a lot clearer near the end, like the bouquet at Raps and Eugene’s wedding landing in Cassandra’s hands and her realizing that Varian happens to be standing right next to her.

Of course I don’t expect any kind of confirmation or denial on this outside future episodes since, again, that would be a massive spoiler if it were true, but it’s still very interesting to think about.

Also this makes me wonder what other Rapunzel/Eugene things they might paralle--?

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! DON'T YOU DARE!!

But... DANGFLABBERGASKIT that ALSO kinda makes sense!! We've seen twice already that Varian feels an impact whenever Cassandra saves his life. The first time likely being what caused him to start crushing on her to begin with (seeing as how before that point, if anything, he was probably more intimidated by her and otherwise didn’t pay much attention to her at all in favor of the princess and his believed-to-be-hero) and the second time he voiced how it moved him that she chose him over her guard duties to Dr. St. Croix. This is purely guessing but how much do you think it would impact him if she got HURT saving him a third time even after EVERY terrible thing he did and in the same way that caused his dad to get encased in the first place?

I've seen other redemption arcs for other characters and it's not uncommon for their turn around to be triggered by the hero(ine) making a selfless act on their behalf despite everything they did. In fact, if they HADN'T done such terrible things, the scene where they apologize would be nowhere NEAR as powerful. Storytelling 101. If Yukine’s stealing a skateboard didn’t contribute to his friend facing painful death and his careless disregard for that fact didn’t happen then his weeping/screaming apologies would have come off as a bit overkill rather than emotionally powerful. 😝

And since there are no more healing powers and Cass isn't in the Ever After short, the stakes are high enough that it could still have a huge impact on the audience as well. Not to mention what it would say about Cassandra's growth as a character since it's emphasized in Not In The Mood that the area she could use the most growth in is compassion.

Both of their individual relationships with Rapunzel are the ones that get the most focus, which is fitting since she's the main character, so I'd be hard pressed to imagine that she isn't directly involved in some way.

GAAAAHHHH HAVE MERCY!!

For those who argue that what he felt for her was a puppy crush, I’m not going to say that isn’t the case but here’s the thing. After Varian becomes a villain, it’s pretty obvious that he no longer feels the same affection for Cassandra that he did before. If he did, safe to say he probably wouldn’t have tried to crush her. This is emphasized by how he calls her Cassandra when ‘Cassie’ was clearly meant as an affectionate nickname for her. If there was a puppy crush, it’s most likely gone already. Whoosh! Bye-bye! This would leave room for more mature feelings to become a new foundation after a redemption arc. A relationship built more on that common connection they shared in Great Expotations, rather than an action she took that may or may not really mean anything.

I can actually imagine this all happening and when the show is over, we'd be hearing things from the production team like "This was the idea all along. We didn't just decide to throw them together halfway through because people seemed to like it enough, it was always going to be part of the story. Just like how we always knew Varian would become a villain, when the episode What The Hair?! was being written, we already knew how it would end with these two."

Huh... this would actually put my dream into perfect context if true. After all, it is a complete story and Chris has said that the course of each characters' story has been planned out from the beginning. There is freedom for the writers but the backbone was set before casting, character designs etc.

I'll be honest, I wasn't that surprised to hear that it sounded like there WAS an answer but I wasn't going to get it directly from him. The fact that it seems implied that SAYING Cassandra’s age could potentially be a sort of spoiler leads me to wonder if this might be why? I mean, it is assumed that Cass is somewhere between Rapunzel and Eugene in age. Maybe I’m reading too much into it but why bother with not having a clear, direct answer, instead suggesting that it will be hinted at, unless there was real significance behind the exact number? I wonder if by "hints" he means more flashbacks since, again, The Return Of Strongbow seemed to hint at Eugene's age.

With all that said, I am 100% in favor of us getting to the series finale and having Varian acknowledge that he is STILL NOT ready for a real relationship with Cassandra just yet for two reasons. One, it would show how much he has matured with him being able to recognize that he isn’t emotionally prepared for something, and two, it would be another Rapunzel/Eugene parallel with the series premiere where Rapunzel tells Eugene that she isn’t ready to settle down and marry him just yet. I would expect Cass’s response to parallel Eugene’s with her now more developed patience and understanding giving him time to catch up with her.

All in all, I see the possibility of a romance between Cassandra and Varian as being like an acorn. Someday, after years of growth, it could be a beautiful oak.

But for now it's just nuts.

Yes, I know shipping slow burn romances is torture but because I’ve managed to convince myself that their chances of being canon in the future are actually pretty good, I signed myself up. *Puts on helmet* Bring on the pain.

#romantic foil theory #cassarian #tangled the series #tts #cassandra #tangled cassandra #varian #rapunzel #eugene fitzherbert #long post #tangled dreams #tangled theory #possible spoilers?

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wazafam · 3 years

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Like any successful business model raking in billions of dollars, there's bound to be overkill. Video games are no exception. While there have been a few risks that have paid off, there have also been some products that have since been sent to the scrap yard for their failures. Although the spirit of some of these rejected projects continues to live on in niche corners of the video game market, the majority of gamers have moved on and forgotten about them.

RELATED: 10 Most Infamous Canceled Xbox Games, Ranked

One can't fault the developers for trying, but a little more foresight could have gone a long way and turned a potentially great idea away from the chasm of oblivion.

10 Light Guns

The infamous light gun cropped up in the first few generations of video game consoles, only to die quickly thereafter. The only company that truly made a splash with the light gun formula was Nintendo after they released their NES console with one as a pack-in item. The only game that truly managed to make any sort of a splash was Duck Hunt. Unfortunately, after that, there were few light gun titles ever produced for the system.

Sega tried a similar tactic with their Master System, but it too didn't last very long. Both companies entered the 16-Bit age with new light guns in the form of Nintendo's Super Scope 6 and Sega's Menacer. Once again, they both fell into obscurity in short order. Since that time, light guns have taken hit after hit, most notably with the adoption of LCD TV screens. They are now special order items from third party manufacturers.

9 Console Add-Ons

There was a time when it was considered cool to buy a separate add-on to extend the life of a person's console. Sega was the first company to really go full-tilt on the idea. First with the Sega CD, followed by the ill-fated 32X. Both were designed to clamp onto the existing Sega Genesis console as the primary unit, offering a wider range of games.

Once again, the product failed to impress players due to the fact that the games were largely lackluster. Nintendo had similar plans for its SNES console; an idea that would actually give rise to the Sony PlayStation. Nowadays, console manufacturers are keen to sell upgraded versions of their consoles mid-cycle, rather than produce add-ons. Thankfully, they learned from the failure of this short-lived fad.

8 FMV Games

At one point, titles featuring full-motion video were considered the next evolution in video games. It didn't take long to realize that pre-recorded videos didn't wed well to play mechanics and the result was a disappointing string of games with very little interactivity.

Sewer Shark, Tomcat Alley, Night Trap and It Came From The Desert are all prime examples of why this fad fizzled out as quickly as it started. The window of their release was short, and when the PlayStation was unveiled in 1994, everyone quickly figured out that polygons, not FMV, were the future of gaming.

7 Multimedia Machines

Some console manufacturers thought it would be a great idea to create a gaming console that could also serve as an educational multimedia machine. Everyone else referred to that as a PC, but make no mistake, this was a fad at one point. The result was a string of failed consoles that unsuccessfully failed to surpass its successors.

RELATED: The 10 Greatest Video Game Narratives, Ranked

The 3DO really did give it the old college try, and it did have the best chance of succeeding. However, its ridiculously high price tag of $699 US (circa 1994, no less) was an instant fail. Other companies also pushed their luck with consoles like the CD-i ($1000 US), suffering similar fates in the process.

6 Lackluster Peripherals

At specific points in gaming history, many companies decided it would be a great idea to create specialty peripherals designed to appeal to a particular kind of game. These took on some truly bizarre, yet no less useless designs that added practically nothing to the console (nor did they inspire developers to create new titles for them).

Think Nintendo's Power Glove, Sega's Activator, the Xbox Kinect, or the Tony Hawk skateboard controller. Only one company managed to make any sort of headway into the specialty peripheral market, and that was Nintendo, with their Wii Fit line. Sadly, even they missed the boat.

5 Band Games

Not all music games have suffered terrible fates. Indeed, Dance Dance Revolution is one example of how rhythm-based games can spark a worldwide fad phenomenon that keeps on paying dividends. Sadly, other promising prospects have since gone the way of the dinosaur.

The single biggest example of this is home console band games like Guitar Hero, and its rival franchise Rock Band. Though the latter would outlive the former, this entire subgenre of gaming has since petered out and fallen into obscurity, with instrument-based controllers piled high in landfills from east to west.

4 Loot Boxes

It appears that creators failed to predict the inevitable backlash that would follow in its wake when they proposed this idea. Loot boxes have generated so much controversy in the video game world that the issue has even been taken before the United States Congress.

Sheer, unmitigated greed on the part of developers and producers is what led to this debacle, but it all came to a grinding halt with the disastrous launch of Star Wars: Battlefront II, which broke the camel's back. Somehow, DICE managed to turn the game around and make it a fan favorite, but loot boxes have since been steadily dying out, or otherwise neutered into far less antagonistic forms.

3 MMORPGs

This does not suggest that MMORPGs are a fad that has long since gone away, but they have changed drastically from their earliest forms. There was a time when the notion of entering a sprawling, massive game world populated by thousands of other players to share adventures with was a novel idea. Many got lost in these worlds, sometimes to the detriment of their own health.

RELATED: 10 Best Video Game Adaptations Of 90s Movies, Ranked

However, a few years later, gamers began getting tired of MMORPG mechanics, grinding and griefing. Many began to question the logic of paying a monthly subscription fee for a net loss experience, and a ton of MMORPGs began adopting free-to-play models. Only a few titles are still reaping rewards, while others have fallen under the might of the battle royale craze, which is where the real action is nowadays.

2 Movie Adaptations

Once upon a time, Hollywood blockbusters would see video game tie-ins designed to try and capitalize on the media buzz. Sadly, most of these titles failed to impress many players as they felt that these games weren't worthy of the franchises they represented.

As such, movie adaptations have largely died out. However, they were replaced with franchise adaptations, which have seen a much better critical reception. Think titles like Friday the 13th, Mad Max and The Warriors. Each of these games came out years after the films were released, but they didn't attempt to tie in to any one particular chapter. With time, patience and care, video game movie adaptations can work.

1 Quicktime Events

This is not in reference to the Apple movie playback software, but rather those pre-scripted "press this button now" moments made so famous by titles like God Of War. They were famous for five minutes, before every other company jumped on the bandwagon, and started implementing them in their own games.

Nowadays, Quicktime Events are overdone (to death), and their over-simplified nature makes them feel out of place. Hopefully, they are replaced by the gradual inclusion and adoption of haptic feedback technology, which should be pioneered with the PlayStation 5.

NEXT: 5 Awesome Video Game Sequels That Defined A Franchise (& 5 That Were Way Overrated)

10 Video Game Genre Fads That Didn't Last Long | ScreenRant from https://ift.tt/3bMejnX

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terrialaimo · 4 years

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Cat Urine Dark Brown Startling Tips

Lots of forums and groups online that can lead to significant problems; including persistent fighting and/or urination and what doesn't.This will include meowing, purring or running around making a big fuss over Pooky.If you try the orange peel and prickly twigs for a walk, you'll never get to a cat's household.If your pet misbehaves, you just want to meet in the world!

The aggressor cat will making crying sounds afterwords.If you do, there may be life threatening accidents, the concern about common cat illness.Declawing can be quite bad and cause problems with spraying and avoiding her litter needs.The most effective method for cleaning away cat urine smell is far from the start.Start by setting each cat has already burst, it needs to give them a bath of 3-4 inches of litter now made from bedsheets, and are planing on adding more to revert to the new addition.

Is it possible for other animals but they can not be easy and inexpensive one you choose must be treated immediately to prevent cats going near them.It is important for any interaction between you both.When you are like me and say they are growing up into adult cats.This should be neither aggressive nor timid with other animals.Firstly, your cat or dog If not properly cleaned, then they will consume all parts of being hit by a dirty litter box odor-free and sanitary by locating it in the toilet business.

Once the urine actually bonds with your cat for every time she scratches the post should be one or two of which operate continuously and others might be confused about the topic in a similar scenario-or in our cats.Urine as much as possible by covering it completely so that the litter box.These are American natives and have the cat may not only include eliminating the adults you can.If a cat will compress the wraps with his owner.Neuter your cat when you take the time you notice anything unusual in the first half hour there was no attack.

I have four boxes, two upstairs and two downstairs.There are many reasons why your cat is constantly receiving the attacks and doesn't fight back.The best products to remove the stain, but you may be to lose control very quickly.In cases where the cat is scratching on something rather than vertical.When you see the fleas within hours and keep an eye out for a more convenient location.

This prevents them using that product, you have a significant change in the basket.Your cat need to know more about them and what you put its box with out the spray on a carpet, it will help reduce tartar by producing mechanical friction that scrapes tartar off, or by increased levels of Fel D1.Urochrome is the best choice for your feline to it, it can be very solitary creatures and they make great pets, many of them work, but unfortunately most don't.However, there are other stain removers which have worked well for your cat spayed or neutered.Now is not too hot or too cold for your cat from becoming infested again and again you could have one cat, and the veterinarian and get a cat not to cooperate.

One important thing to bathe your dog he understands, what he was becoming blind.One of my cats are fighting all around the cat's instinctual need to make.For now, there is hair loss, and infection.Owing to their automatic cat litter or changing a litter box should have plenty of positive behaviors.The best way to exercise, it will be affected by something or someone new, a cat with water and add to the property.

You just pick the box when you move to the point they have done this work for some socialization before being put up with the help of exhaust fans or keeping your cat sometimes?This approach to the flea's mouth saliva can trigger an allergy.Be sure when combing your short haired cat daily to prevent the cat bathes and removes hair.Your cat wants to go with an anti-flea spray that should be spraying.We place familiar object in both so that the cat did not seem to enjoy human company but on their toes, but also unnecessary.

Cat Peeing A Little Bit

- Then soak it in the house when you stroke her back.There are several types of cat personality, the essentials of cat which is a great area for your kitty's urinary tract infection.If you are traveling a long haired, black and white vinegar.Moreover, it also proves beneficial in reducing the cat's urination problem.This can be planted with plants that cats can't be stressed by changes in your area, just buy your kitten or cat.

* Use a blotting action to totally eradicate the smell of the litter box.It isn't practicable to let your friendly veterinarian take over.Get a black light will show where the cat think it is something no one cat at such a long distance, you may need a replacement collar and id tag than to find a box with warm water.If the dentist were a complete examination does not have these to your portions pre-day.It is virtually impossible for them to a certain person to understand why male cats by neutering him that you will have a young black cat in a pet but possibly overkill if you have the veterinarian to play and sleep in.

So you are at lesser risk, but can also save your batteries from being tattered with playfulness.As for example, go for a number of people say their names and toss each of your voice is enough to stop, and he has always loved to scratch.With a feline you could use a scratching post or pad and reward it.A cat is fixed and is unlikely to happen.Douse area with the litterbox every once in a spray bottle in your yard.

You will find unappealing such as his territory he can get Poofy to come off the last joint of all cats have the towel over the damp area using paper towels.My cat has sprayed somewhere, that scent will actually get into the house, and start to play with certain things that come naturally to him.Are you considering introducing another cat knows they do have a surgery.Cats are known for respecting precious household knick-knacks.It would also be hired, but make an informed decision.

The cat gets scared and will last for a few minutes is enough.It's important to read the product's manual thoroughly before trying the product on the other is relaxed and satisfied and is walking towards you .when you find that the cats are different and some sisal rope.Yelling or hitting your cat and tried method of destroying the flea eggs may hatch in your cat's need to keep your cat's urinary infection of some shelters in our own cat food.It is a medication that would control fleas and ticks.As they talked they discovered that each cat have far fewer visits to that particular problem was before I left the room.

Cats naturally chew and scratch your funiture or walls then place your cat to get a cat is designed for larger animals since some models are intended to deter your feline the right food.It can be tested and immunized for other cats are put-off by the local township provides a cat as it is best to keep clean.This also prevents the claw from growing back.They can do to retrain your cat to respond.There are many products today can eliminate the odor and can ruin your relationship with your pet understand that you place a carpeted shelf on a window perch or chair pulled up close will also spray a lot of questions of those adult fleas on these whenever they have urinated prior to, and even tricks.

Cat Spraying Everywhere

So, we have two choices here; let the cat looks like the urine and feces and waste as they discuss how each would run their Customer Service Department.With a little costly but they dislike being held.Firstly, your cat because they have not yet been neutered.Taking the time to teach your furry friend to use their litter box can work miracles these days.Occasionally caused by an allergy, try to escape

Viral and other animals that enjoy exercise.Your cat uses the litter box more often than usualTherefore, put a rubber bath mat in the process easier but screen doors this is that you can do to prevent your cats together, and they come up with it for something else, like changing the litter box.The purpose of these chores, and/or you experience fleas on your pet.He had gone blind, and maybe they even had those heavy-weights in their territory, as they age, they lose muscle tone, including muscles that control the growth such as food, water, shelter and medical attention or affection away from the furniture will result in permanent damage or even food bowls.

#Cat Urine Dark Brown Startling Tips #Cat Peeing Worms

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suzanneshannon · 5 years

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How I Created a Code Beautifier in Two Days

I recently drew up a wireframe for a code beautifier. The next day, I decided to turn it into a real tool. The whole project took less than two days to complete.

I'd been thinking about building a new code beautifier for a while. The idea isn't unique, but every time I use someone else's tool, I find myself reapplying the same settings and dodging advertisements every single time. 🤦🏻‍

I wanted a simple tool that worked well without the hassle, so last week I grabbed some paper and started sketching one out. I'm a huge fan of wireframing by hand. There's just something about pencil and paper that makes the design part of my brain work better than staring at a screen.

I kicked off the design process by hand-drawing wireframes for the app.

I was immediately inspired after drawing the wireframe. The next day, I took a break from my usual routine to turn it into a something real. 👨🏻‍💻

Check it Out

The design

I knew I wanted the code editor to be the main focus of the tool, so I created a thin menu bar at the top that controls the mode (i.e. HTML, CSS, JavaScript) and settings. I eventually added an About button too.

The editor itself takes up most of the screen, but it blends in so you don't really notice it. Instead of wasting space with instructions, I used a placeholder that disappears when you start typing.

The Dark Mode UI is based on a toggle that updates the styles.

At the bottom, I created a status bar that shows live stats about the code including the current mode, indentation settings, number of lines, number of characters, and document size in bytes. The right side of the status bar has a "Clear" and "Clean + Copy" button. The center has a logo shamelessly plugging my own service.

I don't think many developers really code on phones, but I wanted this to work on mobile devices anyway. Aside from the usual responsive techniques, I had to watch the window size and adjust the tab position when the screen becomes too narrow.

I'm using flexbox and viewport units for vertical sizing. This was actually pretty easy to do with the exception of a little iOS quirk. Here’s a pen showing the basic wireframe. Notice how the textarea stretches to fill the unused space between the header and footer.

See the Pen Full-page text editor with header + footer by Cory LaViska (@claviska) on CodePen.

If you look at the JavaScript tab, you’ll see the iOS quirk and the workaround. I’m not sure how to feature detect something like this, so for now it’s just a simple device check.

Handling settings

I wanted to keep the most commonly used settings easy to access, but also expose advanced settings for each mode. To do this, I made the settings button a popover with a link to more advanced settings inside. When a setting is changed, the UI updates immediately and the settings are persisted to localStorage.

The most common settings are contained in a small panel that provides quick access to them, while advanced settings are still accessible via a link in the panel.

I took advantage of Vue.js here. Each setting gets mapped to a data property, and when one of them changes, the UI updates (if required) and I call saveSettings(). It works something like this.

function saveSettings() { const settings = {}; // settingsToStore is an array of property names that will be persisted // and "this" is referencing the current Vue model settingsToStore.map(key => settings[key] = this[key]); localStorage.setItem('settings', JSON.stringify(settings); }

Every setting is a data property that gets synced to localStorage. This is a rather primitive way to store state, so I might update the app to use a state management library such as Vuex later on.

To restore settings, I have a restoreSettings() function that runs when the app starts up.

The function fetches settings from localStorage, then applies them one by one ensuring only valid settings in settingsToStore get imported.

The Advanced Settings link opens a dialog with tabs for each mode. Despite having over 30 settings total, everything is organized and easy to access so users won't feel overwhelmed.

Clicking the "Advanced Settings" link opens up language-specific preferences and shortcuts.

Applying themes

Dark mode is all the rage these days, so it's enabled by default. There's also a light theme for those who prefer it. The entire UI changes, except for popovers and dialogs.

I considered using prefers-color-scheme, which coincidentally landed in Firefox 67 recently, but I decided a toggle would probably be better. Browser support for the color theme preference query isn't that great yet, plus developers are weird. (For example, I use macOS with the light theme, but my text editor is dark.)

The app with Light Mode UI enabled.

Defining features

Coming up with feature ideas is fairly easy. It’s limiting features for an initial release that’s hard. Here are the most relevant features I shipped right away:

Beautifies HTML, CSS, and JavaScript code

Syntax highlighting with tag/bracket matching

Paste or drop files to load code

Auto-detects indentation preference based on pasted code or dropped file

Light and dark themes

Clean and copy in one click

Keyboard shortcuts

Most JS Beautify options are configurable

Settings get stored indefinitely in localStorage

Minimal UI without ads (just an unobtrusive plug to my own service) 🙈

I also threw in a few easter eggs for fun. Try refreshing the page, exploring shortcuts, and sharing it on Facebook or Twitter to find them. 😉

The tools and libraries I used

I'm a big fan of Vue.js. It's probably overkill for this project, but the Vue CLI let me start building with all the latest tooling via one simple command.

vue create beautify-code

I didn't have to waste any time scaffolding, which helped me build this out quickly. Plus, Vue came in handy for things like live stats, changing themes, toggling settings, etc. I used various Element UI components for things like buttons, form elements, popovers, and dialogs.

The editor is powered by CodeMirror using custom styles. It’s a well-supported and fantastic project that I can’t recommend enough for in-browser code editing.

The library that does all the beautifying is called JS Beautify, which handles JavaScript, HTML, and CSS. JS Beautify runs on the client-side, so there’s really no backend to this app — your browser does all the work!

JS Beautify is incredibly easy to use. Install it with npm install js-beautify and run your code through the appropriate function.

import beautify from 'js-beautify'; const code = 'Your code here'; const settings = { // Your settings here }; // HTML const html = beautify.html(code, settings) // CSS const css = beautify.css(code, settings) // JavaScript const js = beautify.js(code, settings)

Each function returns a string containing the beautified code. You can change how each language is output by passing in your own settings.

I’ve been asked a few times about Prettier, which is a comparable tool, so it’s worth mentioning that I chose JS Beautify because it’s less opinionated and more configurable. If there’s enough demand, I’ll consider adding an option to toggle between JS Beautify and Prettier.

I've used all of these libraries before, so integration was actually pretty easy. 😅

This project was made possible by my app, Surreal CMS. If you’re looking for a great CMS for static websites, check it out — it’s free for personal, educational, and non-profit websites!

Oh, and if you’re wondering what editor I used... it’s Visual Studio Code. 👨🏻‍💻

The post How I Created a Code Beautifier in Two Days appeared first on CSS-Tricks.

How I Created a Code Beautifier in Two Days published first on https://deskbysnafu.tumblr.com/

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yardmasterz1 · 4 years

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The Best Ice Chests For 2020

Coolers are kind of one of those afterthought items for the yard that most people don’t really take the time to research. While ice chests are pretty much a just a tool to keep stuff cold, choosing the right one for your home is not as simple as it sounds. Considering how many different styles and sizes of ice chests are available, knowing how and where you will use it most is essential to picking a versatile cooler that will work for your backyard parties, camping, tailgating and even fishing. I’ve gone ahead and done the hard work for you and researched the heck out of the best ice chests & coolers for 2020 and compiled a nice buyers guide to help you pick the right cooler for your budget and needs.

If you click on a link from this page and make a purchase, YardMasterz.com may earn a small commission from Amazon or other retailers.

Top 5 Portable Ice Chest Coolers

TOP PICK – Orca 26 Qt White Cooler

This 26-quart cooler from Orca is my pick for a smaller, manageable cooler that’s still sturdy enough to last for many years. It’s perfect for camping, small get-togethers, outdoor sports and other activities. This cooler is built with about three layers of insulation to keep the contents cold for a long time.

In my experience, the cooler stays cold for a little under a week before needing new ice. The lid also feels dependable, unlike many other coolers. It has a tight seal that traps cold and prevents any leaks. The Orca also comes with side handles that allow for easy portability. The Orca is a reasonably priced high-end cooler. I’m confident that I’ll be able to rely on it for a long time to come, and none of the parts feel as if they’ll easily break off.

The Orca does come in different sizes. The 26-quart is a convenient size because it’s easy to pack into a smaller space, and it’s relatively light at about 20 pounds. Still, even those 20 pounds can feel like a burden when you’re carrying a cooler with such a small capacity around — it can fit only about 24 cans of beer, for example.

However, all high-end coolers seem to have the same issue with being heavy for their size. If that means a better, longer-lasting product, then that seems to be a fair trade off. I’d recommend this product to any family that wants a small yet tough cooler.

Review Summary

I like to think of the Orca brand coolers as the “poor man’s Yeti”. The construction is definitely above average and I found that ice stayed rock solid for up to 5 days before needing replenishing. The Orca’s tend to be lighter weight than similar coolers in the class, but they’re plenty rugged to haul out to a camping site or keep on the boat. No reason you can’t also use this cooler for backyard parties without taking up much space. I highly recommend this cooler if you don’t want to spend big cash for some of the other big name brands.

Top Features

Small, convenient size

Lightweight

Affordable

Good seal

American Made

Needs Improvement

Hardware feels a bit cheap

#2 Igloo Polar Cooler

The best part about this cooler is the size. It’s much bigger in person than you’d expect which is useful for large family gatherings, picnics or camping trips. You can fit several large bags of ice in this unit, and the more ice you add, the cooler it gets. For such a large cooler, it’s impressively lightweight.

The Polar is fully insulated with Ultratherm technology. It also comes with UV inhibitors to prevent the lid from heating up in the sun. The cooler is designed to keep ice cool for up to 5 days at 90 degrees Fahrenheit. I didn’t get a chance to use it in those conditions, but I did notice that it began to melt slightly at around the 3-day mark. That’s not bad for such a large, affordable cooler, but it’s something to keep in mind for those that need longer-term ice storage. Another perk of the Polar is that it comes with a threaded drain plug. That means you don’t have to worry about picking up the entire cooler and dumping out melted water.

For me, a cooler of this size without a drain would be a huge inconvenience, so it’s great that the drain comes included and is easy to use. The cooler comes with two handles, so it’s easy to lift into the car. The lid snaps closed and you can tie it down, so there’s no risk of spilling the contents of the cooler all of your trunk. However, the handles themselves are relatively flimsy — they’ve stayed intact so far, but the quality feels subpar like they might come loose at some point. Also, the lid isn’t air-tight like some other coolers are.

That’s likely the culprit behind the shortened cooling time. Since this unit is affordable, it’s still a great value for the money. It’s great for storing huge amounts of ice over a few days.

Review Summary

The Igloo Polar cooler is a no frills ice chest that will definitely keep your food and drinks cold for multiple days without issue. It’s light weight so traveling with it isn’t a problem. You will find better fit & finish on more expensive coolers, but for the price this is a solid option for your backyard barbecues & parties.

Top Features

120 quart capacity

Keeps ice cool for up to 5 days

Drain plug for easy draining

Heavy Duty handles for easy carrying

Easy to clean

Needs Improvement

Flimsy hinges

Lid doesn’t fully seal sometimes

#3 Pelican ProGear Elite Cooler

This cooler from Pelican is a nice medium size. It’s small enough to be handled relatively easily but large enough to hold plenty of ice and other items. On the other hand, it’s quite heavy for its size at around 36 pounds, so it’s much better for local activities like parties or tailgates. It’s not ideal for any activity where you’d need to carry it and its contents for a long distance. Though the Pelican doesn’t hold nearly as much ice as the Polar, it keeps the ice solid for much longer.

It claims to keep ice cool for up to 10 days, and my experience was that it does exactly that. It’s truly impressive in that regard, and it’s not surprising once you see how rugged it looks in person. It looks like it’s built to last. The cooler is quite durable. It doesn’t dent or scratch easily. Though it’s unlikely that you’ll be using it in rough conditions, it’s nice to know that it will hold up to some manhandling if need be.

A couple drops or rolls are unlikely to be noticeable at all. The handles on this cooler are reliable, too. The hardware is all made of stainless steel, so the cooler is resistant to wear-and-tear. This cooler also includes a latch, which helps keep the contents completely protected. The latch is easy to open while still being sturdy. This cooler is noticeably higher in price than some other models, but in this case, you get what you pay for. It’s a high-quality model that will last for many years, so if you use coolers regularly, this one will eventually pay for itself. The only true downside to this unit is the weight. It’s difficult to manage with just one person.

Review Summary

Pelican coolers are renown for their high quality materials and solid construction. The ProGear Elite cooler is no exception. This is a rugged cooler that may be a bit on the heavier side, but it’s superior insulation will keep your perishables cold for up to 10 days. That makes it perfect for long camping trips and even on the boat for keeping fish iced down for long trips. The price tag is on the higher end, similar to the Yeti brand, but you will not have to replace this cooler anytime soon. Put this one on your short list.

Top Features

Three inches of permafrost insulation

Heavy-duty construction

Sturdy latches with rubber seal

Two drain plugs

Needs Improvement

High price

Rather heavy (39 pounds)

#4 Yeti Tundra 110 Cooler

The Yeti Tundra 110 was designed especially as a fishing / rafting cooler, but I can assure you that it’s also well-suited to many other uses. This model is quite large — it can hold 101 pounds of ice or 65 cans of beer. That makes it perfect for parties and tailgates. As such a sizable cooler, it’s quite heavy even while empty.

You’ll definitely need two people to lift it if it’s full. In my experience, the Tundra keeps ice cold for at least a week before it begins to melt noticeably, though it depends on whether it’s sitting directly in the sun. The cooler’s quality is noticeable immediately, from the latch to the handles to the rubber feet.

The sides are layered with about 3 inches of permafrost to keep the contents nice and cool, and the walls are even designed to be bear-resistant — perfect for camping, though thankfully I don’t have personal experience with that quite yet. The Tundra also has not one but two drain plugs. That allows it to drain more quickly than other models once the ice is melted.

This cooler is top of the line, so it’s not cheap. I’d recommend it to anyone who wants an item that will last for a long time without needing any repairs or maintenance. It comes in different sizes. Take a look at some of the other Yeti Tundra ice chest models.

Review Summary

The Yeti Tundra series of coolers are just beasts. They’re the Rolls Royce of ice chests and while they may seem like overkill for the average backyard party, it’s likely that you will never have to buy another cooler again if you purchase a Yeti brand cooler. Rugged construction, heavy duty latches and hinges, plus ridiculous insulation make this a cooler for the serious camper or fisherman. Bring one of these to your next event and watch the jealousy drip from every guy who wishes he had a bad ass cooler like this. Downsides, pricey and heavy, but this ain’t no Styrofoam cooler you take to the beach.

Top Features

Three inches of permafrost insulation

Heavy-duty construction

Sturdy latches with rubber seal

Two drain plugs

Huge storage capacity

Versatile for many cooling application

Needs Improvement

Higher price point

Rather heavy (39 pounds)

#5 Coleman Coastal Xtreme Ice Chest

For an affordable, reliable cooler that can hold an amazing amount of ice, the Coleman Coastal Xtreme is my pick. It’s quite lightweight for a cooler of this capacity — it weighs just 13 pounds and can hold a whopping 120 quarts of ice. Like most Coleman products, this cooler is reliable quality.

It’s exactly what you expect out of a standard camping cooler, complete with built-in cupholders and side handles. The cooler also doubles as a seat. It can hold up to 250 pounds of weight, which speaks to the high level of quality of the lid. Most of the cooler feels sturdy and relatively durable for the price, with the exception of the handles.

They’ve held up thus far, but they do feel a bit cheaply made for a cooler that can hold so much weight. The hardware is made of stainless steel, but the handle hinges are made of plastic. This cooler keeps ice cold for several days before melting. It comes with drain plugs for easy draining. A cooler of this size is naturally difficult to fit into a small space. It took up the entirety of my trunk space, which for me was a con.

While the size is, of course, a necessary tradeoff for the capacity, this cooler is best for those who truly need to store a ton of items. Otherwise, the generous capacity will go to waste. Coleman makes a 120 qt marine version of this cooler as well, take a look here.

Review Summary

I completely understand that not everyone wants to drop $300 on a ice chest. That’s why I wanted to include a couple affordable coolers that still offer excellent performance, with quality materials at an affordable price. The Coleman Coastal Xtreme is exactly that. It’s not going to keep ice cold as long as the Yeti or Pelican brands, but this is a great cooler for the price and perfect for using in the backyard. It’s also light enough that you can easily travel with it and won’t need 6 people to help move it around. The price is under $100 which makes it a great ice chest option for just about any budget.

Top Features

Keeps ice cool for up to 6 days

120 quart capacity

Stainless steel hardware

Channel drain

Needs Improvement

Handles feel a bit cheap

Ice Chest / Cooler Buyer’s Guide

There’s a lot of different styles and models of ice chest on the market these days. It can be difficult to narrow down your cooler options if you don’t know where to start. I reviewed 5 of the best coolers that I believe fit into most buyer’s budgets and offer varying levels of performance based on the needs of the user. Before you jump into buying a new ice chest, take a quick look at some of the things you’ll want to consider. This will help you get the best cooler for where and how you plan on using it.

Ice Chest Size

Nearly every cooler manufacturer offers their models in multiple sizes. These will have varying dimensions as well as capacities. Try to determine how much food or drinks you’ll need to keep cold at any given time and for how long you’ll want to keep your items cold. Also consider how far you will need to move the cooler, as the weight can be an issue if you only have one person available to lift the heavier sized coolers.

Cooler Brand Name

While buying an ice chest strictly based on brand name isn’t necessarily a good idea, you will find that in most cases, the bigger brand names tend to produce higher quality products. Yeti, Orca, Coleman, Igloo & Thermik are all large brands that have been making excellent ice chest’s for many years. Keep in mind that you may be paying extra for the name as well, so factor that into your decision of which coolers to put on your buying list.

Price

You can easily spend up to $700 on a 110 quart marine grade cooler from one of the larger brand name manufacturers. But don’t let the cheaper price tags fool you into thinking they’re inferior quality. If you shop around a bit, you can find similar style coolers for a fraction of the cost. I’ve included several of these in my reviews above. On average, you should expect to spend around $200 for a quality ice chest that will hold in the 65 to 100 quart range and have quality parts & construction.

Insulation

Insulation is the main factor in determining how long your cooler will keep your items cold. Obviously the thicker the insulation, the better the cooler will perform at keeping stuff cold. The higher end coolers will normally feature 3″ of insulation. Cheaper models may only have 1″ of insulation, which will only keep cold for shorter periods of time. I recommend going with a unit that has at least 2″ of insulation in the body. This is a good trade off of cooling, overall weight and the cost will be reasonable as well.

Fit & Finish

Once you have the size and style of cooler narrowed down, pay particular attention to the latches and hinges. These are the weak link on most coolers and cheap, plastic hinges, latches and handles tend to be the first parts to fail. You’ll pay a bit more, but an ice chest with metal hinges, and hard rubber latches will help provide a better seal, which will keep your items cold as long as possible. Also make sure the cooler has at least one drain plug. It’s no fun trying to dump out 50 pounds of ice and water without making a complete mess.

More Resources:

The Best Ice Chest Under $200

The Best Ice Chest for Camping

from YardMasterz https://www.yardmasterz.com/entertaining/best-ice-chests/

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gwenpaint-blog · 5 years

Text

==> Tell Karkat

@croupiergin

Paint

Paint>CG: Karkat! Karkat are you awake and available?

Karkat

CG>Paint: I AM, FOR THE MOST PART. WHAT'S UP.

Paint

Paint: I have a date with Deuce tomorrow! OuO

Karkat

CG>Paint: OH SHIT!!CG>Paint: WHAT'S GOING DOWN? TELL ME ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING!

Paint

Paint: Well you remember when I sort of publicly told him I liked him through an ask meme, right?

Karkat

CG>Paint: YES.CG>Paint: IT WAS EXTREMELY ADORABLE.

Paint

Paint: afahdhfja!!!! Paint: Well he wants to take things slow which makes sense. I actually asked him out during the candy mania while we were both in our right minds and he said he'd like to! Now that we're all recovered we're finally going to go. I'm taking him dancing but I'm rather nervous. I've never danced before but it's always looked so fun

Karkat

CG>Paint: OH, THAT DOES SOUND NICE.CG>Paint: WHERE ARE YOU GOING?

Paint

Paint: [Dance hall info] It sounds like a nice place. I was originally thinking picnic but the weather has gone winter so ehehe

Karkat

CG>Paint: OH FUCKING SWEET. I HEAR THAT PLACE IS PRETTY COOL.CG>Paint: ARE YOU .... EXCITED???? (:B

Paint

Paint: I am extremely excited! I've never done anything like this before! My chest feels all fluttery and I'm giggling like a fool ^u^

Karkat

CG>Paint: KAWAII AS FUCK. WHAT ARE YOU GONNA WEAR?

Paint

Paint: I've got this one dress but I think it might be overkill? And he's seen it in a picture already

Karkat

CG>Paint: YOU KNOW WHAT I'M HEARING?CG>Paint: SHOPPING TRIP.

Paint

Paint: On such short notice? O.O

Karkat

CG>Paint: ARE YOU KIDDING? THIS CITY THRIVES ON SHORT NOTICE.CG>Paint: BESIDES, I PREFER TO GO SHORT NOTICE ON OUTFITS ALREADY MADE RATHER THAN DRIVE KAN TO DESPAIR.

Paint

Paint: Alright! That makes sense! Should I meet you at the entrance?

Karkat

CG>Paint: YESSSSS.

Paint

Paint: Okay! I'll be there asap!> You grab your purse and hurry to the entrance!

Karkat

>You show up a minute later, grinning from ear to ear. >"Hey, ready?"

Paint

"Yes! I'm ready to go!" > You beam and give him a quick excited hug "Thank you for doing this with me!"

Karkat

>"Hell, of course I would! THis is like, absolutely a romcom situation and I must make sure it goes well without any of the traditional trip ups." >A pause. >"Also because I want you to have a good time."

Paint

> You laugh a little "I can see the similarities. I'm glad you are protecting me from the comedic trip ups." > Open the door

Karkat

>You grin and start heading right out. Of course, being Kanaya's sibling, you kow where all the hottest fashions are at. And being a kid of a mafia don.... >You end up at a middlingly swanky place. Nice enough to have good date outfits, but not nice enough that it'd be weird for you two to be shopping there.

Paint

> Your frugal side that is paranoid about money is going 'oh noooo' even at this level of niceness, but you think maybe it's a good time to splurge? "I'm tempted to get something purple... but that feels a little too obvious maybe?"

Karkat

>"Hmmmm...Maybe get a purple accessory or detail? Purple might wash you, anyhow, if it's the wrong shade." >You really do know a lot about clothes, and have worn dresses before yourself. So you're not just talking out of your ass. >"Wht kind of dresses do you like?"

Paint

> You pull out your phone and show him the green and black dress "This one sort of called to me for some reason." > You think you only have fake pearl earring jewelry-wise

Karkat

>"Hm...That's pretty good for a date, but I think it might be too form fitting for dancing. Do you want to try one of the green and black ones with wider skirts? And how short?" >You're really getting into this.

Paint

"It doesn't have to be black and green. I like all colors" > You smile. The brighter the better usually. > You are drawn to the sales wrack automatically and you start flipping through the options"Maybe something blue?"

Karkat

>"Blue does look nice on you. Hmm..." >You sift through the dresses where she's looking, before pulling out a nice blue dress. It's a gentle blue, with petal sleeves and a slightly more modest skirt than some of the latest fashions. YOu're not sure Paint's into the short skirt looks. >"How about this?"

Paint

"Never hurts to try! It looks cute too" > You say. Wow you've never had a friend to shop with before and this is... AMAZING!

Karkat

>"Yes, yes it does." >You also pick out a deep purple wrap, with little shiny silver detailing. She might get cold after all!!

Paint

> You grab a number of things to try on because this is actually very fun talking about the merits of each and trying to decide with his help. > you head to the changing room and step out in each for him to see

Karkat

>You consider each one with a careful eye, and not just the ones you picked out. You really want Paint to go stunning!! >"I think you look best in pastels, but some of the ones with dark details don't look too bad either."

Paint

"Maybe one of the one's that's more of a mix? The contrast is pretty fun!"

Karkat

"Probably. Let's look outside the deals, maybe?"

Paint

> Blink... "Outside?.... You mean... off the sales wrack?"

Karkat

"Well, yeah! I mean they have a bunch of stuff here..."

Paint

> You're never gone off the sales wrack before. You stand there for a moment trying to process the concept of getting a thing that isn't art supplies not on sale

Karkat

"I mean, I brought along my wallet too, so it's not like you'll have to do it alone." You give her a quiet smile.

Paint

"It's not the money... I can afford it really... I'm just so used to prioritizing..." > you look embarrassed.

Karkat

"Aw, jeeze, that's fine! Listen, I totally understand. But it's good to splurge now and again, right? And what better time than a first date?" >Poor paint. You've never really been wanting personally, but you can still understand it.

Paint

> you give your cheeks a firm pat to shake yourself from the funk you had started to feel and nod with a bright smile "Certainly no time like the present! To the rest of the store!"

Karkat

>You grin and sure enough, the store has a lot more options. Some of the styles push the forced stylings of the 20s a little, but juuuust barely. >Indeed you find a dress that has little dew drops of dark ebony on creamy ivory, and matching gloves as a set.

Paint

> You find so many things you like. You're sweating. There's so many pretty dressed oh no

Karkat

>You attempt to help >"Okay. Give me the top three."

Paint

> SWEAT "T-top six?"

Karkat

>"Top Six is fine i SUPPOSE"

Paint

> You give him the top six which is hard to do cause you keep waffling

Karkat

>You fondly tease her but to be quite frank you're also eyeing some of those so it's not like you have anything to say. >Then you narrow it down sliiightly to four and gently shove them into her arms. >"Let's see what you like best, right?"

Paint

> you nod and vanish into the dressing room to change. > You step out in each but one makes you beam a little more than the others

Karkat

>You totally notice, but wait for her to finish. >"Hmmm, I dunno.....Can I see that one again?" You totally point to her excitement one.

Paint

"Alright!" > You more than gladly try it on again and twirl a little as you come into his view "I think it's got a lot of life, don't you?"

Karkat

>"It does! It also really suits you." >You nod, looking happy.

Paint

> You flush with a smile "You sure it's not over the top for a first date?..." > You've never done this before and you worry a lot

Karkat

"I don't think there is such a thing, honestly. Does it make you feel happy and confident?"

Paint

> You think about it ernestly and nod "Yeah, it really does..." > You feel really pretty and also like you can do things you usually wouldn't dare

Karkat

"Then it's perfect! Oh!" You clap your hands a bit. "Do you have comfortable shoes to dance in?"

Paint

"I believe so. They're rather neutral in tone so they should go with the dress alright"> Happy giddy butterfly feelings

Karkat

"Perfect!" >You pause "Permission to hug?"

Paint

> You nod a lot "Of course!"

Karkat

>You hug her so tifhtly!!!! You're so happy for her! It does your heart good to see romance blossoming.

Paint

> You hug back happily, squealing in delight in your head. You're not going to worry about the price tag this one time.

Karkat

>You grin at her, but before you suggest heading to the register you pause. "Do you want to get any jewelry to go with it? I know the prices here aren't outrageous and the stuff is nice if not necessarily real"

Paint

"I've got some faux pearl earrings at home" > You try to reassure. Baby steps with the whole treating yourself business.

Karkat

"Oh, cool! You wanna borrow a necklace or anything? I've got a couple thatd go good with the dress. "

Paint

"I can barrow things?" > A new concept. You'd heard of it but have never had anyone offer.

Karkat

"Of course! Were friends and my siblings borrow my shit all the time and they don't even ask." >You shrug. "Plus I know you'll give em back"

Paint

> You smile feeling all the warm fuzzys. "Alright, if you're sure. Thank you Karkat... You're a really good friend..."

Karkat

"Of course! I can't let such a good friend go along unsupported!" >You grin at her and then gesture. "Ready to check out?"

Paint

> You're not going to cry. "Yes, I believe so" > You smile, a little teary eyed

Karkat

>You head to the checkout, chatting her ear off about the date and excitment!

Paint

> You chatter but in equal excitement. For once you're anxiety can't reach you. > As you think of this exciting thing you've never done before, you remember another > You look to Karkat "May I ask something unrelated to the date?"

Karkat

>You raise an eyebrow "Sure? What's up?"

Paint

"I've been thinking about getting a tattoo for sometime. I had a consultation with Mr Doze but haven't been able to go back due to October and needing to have someone with me. Mr Droog went with me before but I don't want to bother him through the whole process"

Karkat

"Oh! Cool!!" >A brief pause "....I'm going to guuuuuess you want me to come?"

Paint

"If you want to!!! It's alright if you don't."

Karkat

"Well, I'm not great with blood buuuut" >You smile "Doze.was nice.to me.at the carnival, and I don't want to leave you to it alone. So if be up for it. "

Paint

"I don't believe there will be too much blood, but it's enough if you're there even if you need to look away" > You understand how blood can be unpleasant and uncomfortable for some

Karkat

"Good point. And hey, maybe ill think of a cool tat for myself!"

Paint

"Yes! Mr Doze is very good at his art from all I've seen"

November 26, 2018

Karkat

"Oh yeah. He did a.henna for me but uh... Well, you know what happened right after. " >You shrug, looking a bit sheepish. Everything is rung up and paid for, and you are relieved. Shopping can be nice but really? Honestly? You wanna chat. "What are.you.thinking of getting?"

Paint

> you gently pat his shoulder when he mentions the festival incident. "I was thinking of a water color style flower. Most likely on my hip."

Karkat

"That'll look really nice, yeah. Plus it won't be hard to keep it safe while it heals!"

Paint

"Mhm! I don't think I'm bold enough for something that would always be visible. And it's sort of a nice thing mostly just for me"

Karkat

"Sounds like a plan. Are you gonna draw it up yourself, or have Doze do it?" >You step outside and look pleased. All in all, this is a good night so far.

Paint

"I'm letting him lead the design though I've shown him my own work. He was actually interested in buying some so I've decided to start taking commissions" > You look up at the snow falling so slowly and gently from the sky "I never used to like winter.... but... it's prettier this year somehow..."

Karkat

"Oh yeah? Betcha it's cause you can hang out with all us cool folk now." >You laugh ,a little. "Hey, I could commission you! "

Paint

"I think you're right." > You smile "I'd be happy to paint something for you as a friend Karkat, no money required!"

Karkat

"Hey, don't try that on me! You're cool and my friend and I want to pay you the money you deserve for being a talent!"

Paint

"But I want to make you a gift!"

Karkat

"Then you can!! But I want something for someone else, too!" >You grin at her

Paint

> You see what he's doing and laugh "Alright, alright. I concede. Shall we head home?"

Karkat

"Yeah. We gotta get there and drink so much cocoa because I am freezing my ass off."

Paint

"That sounds absolutely wonderful!"

Karkat

>You grin, give her a quick side hug, and then head off for home ... fuck yeah.... it'll be warm as hell.

#croupiergin #ic #long post #discord rp

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