#Sorry bitty I just remembered today! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nottapossum · 11 days

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Itty Bitty Sinners 1.10

🧡 It starts with sorry 💖🐍♠️❤️💜

Summary:TW: ⚠️Plz read: Mentioning divorce, diapers mentioned, diaper changing, doing someone's hair, sad parents, briefly mentioning religious stuff (very breif and catholic specifically), Anxiety, self hate, sad feelings, implied abusive and controling parents, hiding, apologizing, implied age play or something like that, Valentino is in this...he doesn't do anything but still. Lmk if I should add anything.

⚠️And disclaimer, please read: Vox is a white guy from the 1950s and I thought it would be absolutely adorable if he did Velvette's hair in this chapter despite his anxiety. Velvette is black and has black hair. I do not have black hair, so I'm not an expert on black hair. I did my research for this chapter and put a lot of effort to make sure they do her hair correctly with the care and love it needs. But! If I forgot something or wrote something completely wrong- please correct me! YouTube videos can only get me so far. I will fix it if necessary.Alright, the chapter here we go!!

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'It starts with sorryThat's your foot in the door, one simple sorrySpoken straight from your coreThe path to forgiveness is a twisting trail of heartsBut sorry is where it starts.' ~It starts with Sorry, Hazbin Hotel

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~~~Pentious and Charlie:~~~~

Vaggie left Pentious and Charlie by themselves...

He's not exactly sure what he's doing. He's never taken care of a little before! And he's only been little once, he has no experience in this!

Sure, he had a son, but not for very long...

"Where Mommy, Pen?" Charlie asks suddenly.

Pentious shakes his head. "I'm sorry, who?"

"Mommy! She weft!" Charlie says.

"Do you mean Vaggie?" Pentious asks.

Charlie nods. “Mhm.”

"You know where she is, dear. She left to go talk to Angel, remember?"

"Still?" Charlie asks.

"She just left." Pentious says.

"Oh." Charlie pouts, folding her arms on the table sadly.

"Uhm, how about we play a game while we wait for her?" Pentious suggests.

Charlie is still pouting, but she nods. "Okay."

"Alright, what game would you like to play, dear?" Pentious asks.

Charlie thinks about it...

"Uhm we can play wif my little pet shops!" Charlie says.

"Alright, and what is that?"

Charlie pulled out a box filled with tiny plastic animals. “My little pet shop friends!”

"I will make my family shopkeepers." She says.

Her family consisted of a father who's a duck, an owl for the mother, and a goat for the daughter.

"Now you gotta make a family!" Charlie says, handing Pentious the box.

Pen went along with it, his Doggy family consisted of a mother, father, and a little puppy son.

"Now your family has to go to the grocery store while the daughter is watching the store all by herself, it's her very first time ever and she is doing a good job today.” Charlie explains.

"Okay." Pentious says.

"Hello, what would you like to buy?" Charlie's goat asked.

"Uhm do you have any dog treats?" Pentious's dad doggy asks.

"Of course, right this way." Charlie's goat says.

They move their little figures to the dog treat isle and he buys some. "Thank you, you're really good at your job." Pentious's dad dog says.

"Thank you, doggo." Charlie says. “I know it.”

Suddenly, Charlie's father duck shows up. "Hello daughter."

"Hello, father. I sold dog treats today." The goat says.

Charlie's voice gets a little deeper when playing the father: "Oh, that's great, Apple. But, I have some bad news."

"What is it?" Charlie's goat asks.

"Your mother and I are divorcing." The duck says. “That means we don't want to be happy anymore.”

"You're divorcing?! Right now?" The goat asks.

"Yup." The duck says plainly. "We decided we don't love each other anymore longer."

"Awee!" The goat whines. “That's not fair!”

"But it's okay because you get to keep working at the store!" The mama owl says before both her and the duck leave. "Goodbye."

"Charlie, I am both very concerned and confused at the same time." Pentious says.

"Uhm. So then the goat decided she didn't want the store to be a store anymore. She transformed it into the best restaurant ever!" Charlie moved around the store to create a restaurant. "Ta-dah!"

Pentious doesn't do anything, just sort of watches her, so Charlie whispers: "The doggy family goes to the restaurant."

"Ah okay." Pentious says. He moves the little dog figures to the restaurant.

"Hello, do you have a reservation?" Charlie asks.

"Do I?" Pentious asks.

Charlie hums. "Are you the Dog family?"

Pentious's little dog nods.

"Follow me!" Charlie's goat says.

Pentious has noticed that when Charlie is small her stories are very scattered.

First, it was about a goat running a grocery store, then a goat who started a restaurant. She had the dog family try to help her get her parents back together by making them a romantic dinner.

But it didn't work so they were all abducted by aliens for some reason? There was no consistency, but it was entertaining at least.

"The only way to stop the aliens from taking over is if you two get back together and love each other again!" The goat says to her bird parents.

"But we can't." The duck says.

"We forgot how to love." The owl adds.

Pentious is very confused as to why the aliens care about this...but he goes along with the plot.

The doggos worked together as a family to restore the cheese shaped spaceship to start attacking the aliens with violence, and teamwork made the goat's parents remember love.

"We love each other! All thanks to you doggos!" The owl says.

"And we love our daughter, so proud of our little apple dumpling." The duck adds.

Suddenly the duck and the owl were kissing.

"Oh nooo! Happy parents!! Our one weakness!" Pentious says, playing as one of the aliens: "let's get out of here!"

"Yay!! We saved the day!" Charlie says.

The door opens to the office and in returns Vaggie.

Charlie's pupils expand: "Veevee!"

Charlie runs onto Vaggie's arms, and Vaggie happily picks her up. "Hey, kiddo. How are you doing?" She asks.

"Good! We was playing pet shops!" Charlie says.

"How's Angel?" Pentious asks.

"He's okay." Vaggie says. "We talked and he says he'll stay."

"Yay!!" Charlie cheers.

"Huzzah!" Pen shouts at the same time.

His voice sounded smaller than normal, so Vaggie asks: "Pen, are you by chance small too?"

"Is uh...is that okay?" Pentious asks.

Vaggie sits on the floor in front of him with Charlie on her lap. "Of course it is."

Pentious smiles, he must have regressed during the game he and Charlie were playing.

He regressed? But, he feels so happy and calm...less strange and sad- why can't regression always be like this?!

"Thank you for taking care of Charlie, you're a great helper." Vaggie tells him.

Pentious's eyes widen and he smiles brighter. "Oh...you're welcome." He says.

"Angel wants to apologize to both of you, but I told him to wait until you're big again." Vaggie explains.

"Is he okay?" Charlie asks.

"Yeah, I think so." Vaggie says.

"Mm good." Charlie rested her head on Vaggie's shoulder. “I don't wike him to be sad.” She says.

"Tired?" Vaggie asks her.

"Mm...lil bit." Charlie mumbles.

Vaggie gathered the blankets that were on the couch and wrapped Charlie up in one of them. "Just relax. You want to watch something and take a little nap?" Vaggie asks.

"Pen! Wanna watch bluey wif me?" Charlie asks. "It's the bestest show!"

Pentious smiles at her. "Okay!"

Vaggie put on an episode of Bluey: Verandah Santa.

Pentious tried to relax next to them on the floor, so Vaggie handed him a soft pillow and blanket so he could be comfortable aswell.

Before Pen relaxed too much he left to get his dog teddy to join them. His doggo would probably like to watch bluey too!

Pen decides that he likes regression a lot.

~~~Vox and Velvette:~~~~

Vox woke up with a tiny Velvette laying on his chest.

Velvette's eyes flutter open, she still has her paci in her mouth, but her eyes brighten upon seeing Vox still there.

"Good morning, big girl. How are you feeling?" Vox asks her.

Velvette hums.

"Did you sleep well, sweetheart?" Vox asks.

Velvette nods. "Mhm."

"How about some breakfast?" Vox suggests.

Velvette nods excitedly, so Vox gets up and picks up Velvette along with him. He takes the little one to her room so she can get dressed. "Do you need help getting dressed today, or can you do it yourself?" Vox asks her.

Velvette doesn't answer, she tugs on the handle of her pacifier anxiously as she looks away from him.

"Vel, do you need help getting dressed?" He asks.

Velvette nods slowly.

"Alright, and uhm. How little are you?"

Velvette shrugs.

"Should we put a diaper on you? Just in case?" Vox asks.

Velvette whines, she knows she probably needs one- but she wants to be a big girl!

"Vel?"

Velvette shakes her head.

Vox knows that Velvette is about one or two (more likely one) and when she's that young, she definitely needs diapers.

"Vel, could you maybe think about it?" Vox asks her.

Velvette shakes her head and whines louder. "No!" She whines through her pacifier. "No diap, no nappy, no need it!"

Vox sighs.

Sometimes Velvette will demand she be diapered, other times she'll throw a tantrum at the mere suggestion.

"Alright, how about if we compromise? What if you wore a pull-up instead?" Vox suggests.

To the suggestion Velvette just starts screaming loudly: "Nooo!!"

Vox sighs, trying to keep his composure... he's glad Velvette was feeling better though.

When Velvette is genuinely upset, she's quiet. When she's totally fine- she's loud and scream-y.

"Alright, Vel. You win. You don't have to wear a diaper if you don't want to." Vox says, relieved when she stopped screaming.

"I'll just take this purple hello kitty nappy and give it to someone else." Vox says casually.

Velvette's eyes go wide and she reaches for the diaper Vox was holding, whining as she desperately tries to take it from him.

Vox lets her take it, and Velvette hugs it close to her chest.

Vox smirks, he knew Hello kitty would do the trick. Every baby has their kryptonite. "You want to wear it now, Velbelle?" Vox asks.

Velvette nods.

Vox takes the diaper from her. "Alright, lay down on the bed for me." He tells her.

Velvette doesn't like being told what to do, but she did want to wear the kuromi printed nappy, so she did as asked. "M' still big girl!" Velvette tells him, grumpily.

"I know you are." Vox says. "There's nothing wrong with big girls needing diapers." Vox explains, quickly grabbing the baby powder and diapering her.

"Yea?" Velvette asks.

"Of course. Lots of people need them." Vox says, taping the diaper on her with no issues. He used to be so bad at this, but he's taken care of baby Velvette enough that he's basically a pro at diaper changing now.

"I wike dis one." Velvette says, flapping her hands excitedly.

"You really like hello kitty, huh?" Vox asks.

"Kuomi!" Velvette says as if he just said something offensive. "Not kitty!"

...Vox does not understand the difference, they look exactly the same. "Oh right, sorry." He says, disingenuously. "Let's get you dressed now. What would you like to wear today, Princess?"

"Kuromi dwess!" Velvette says.

"And where may that be?" Vox asks, raising an eyebrow.

Velvette points at her closet, so Vox looks through it until he finds a few dresses with the little cat (rabbit) on it.

He went through all the dresses with her until she picked out the one she wanted and so he made quick work getting her dressed.

Her hair was still in a bonnet, and it was going to stay there until Val or Velvette were ready to do her hair- Vox is not good at hair, and according to Velvette and Val with black hair it's especially important to do it correctly.

He's been practicing and taking note of what Val does to Velvette's hair when she’s small and what Velvette does sometimes when she's big...but he's not sure he's ready to attempt it yet.

Wait, was it bad to leave her hair in a bonnet? How long is it okay to leave her like that?

Well...she did sleep in it, so it will probably be fine for another hour- or at least enough time to get her some breakfast.

Velvette looked around for her pacifier, and when she found it on the floor she picked it up, but Vox quickly snatched it away as he was deep in thought..

"Voc!!" She whines.

"Hold on, Vel. It's all dirty. We got to clean it first." Vox tells her.

She whines as he makes his way to the bathroom to rinse it off.

He returns and hands the paci to Velvette, she happily pops it in her mouth and he picks her up to head downstairs for breakfast.

They walk downstairs where Val was already being served breakfast by Kitty, their Fizbot.

"Oh, so you both decided to wake up today." Val says.

Vox rolls his eyes and puts Velvette down on the chair. "Couldn't get her to sleep last night." He explains.

Kitty seemed happy to see them, eagerly making breakfast for the late Vees.

Val rolls his eyes. "Should have taken my advice." ~

"I'm not locking her in her room, she has enough issues." Vox says, placing a bib around her neck.

Velvette takes her pacifier out and starts nomming on some tasty pancakes Kitty had made.

"Hey, Val?" Vox is a little nervous asking this, he's not sure if he's ready for this...

If Vox is going to be Velvette's caregiver, he's gotta learn how to take care of her properly. "I want to do Velvette's hair."

Val tilts his head. "Are you prepared to die if you do it wrong?" Val asks him, knowing very well that Velvette would explode if something happened to her beautiful hair.

"I was hoping you could be there to guide me in case I mess it up." Vox tells him.

Valentino thinks it over and shrugs. "I suppose I can do that."

"Thanks, Val." Vox says.

"Mhm." Val takes a sip of coffee.

Vox looks over to Velvette who's now covered in maple syrup. He's glad he put that bib on her...and that her hair is still covered, he would have no idea how to get syrup out of hair.

He never had kids in his life...that he knows of. Which is strange to most considering he was fifty.

Velvette gave him the chance to experience...what he always wanted to.

He owes it to her to be the best caregiver she can possibly have.

And he was gonna do it!

~~~Angel:~~~

Vaggie had told Angel to wait a few hours to give Charlie some space before talking to her.

Angel assumed that meant Charlie regressed, but he didn't ask questions…

He didn't feel like he had a right to.

Anxiety filled him, the anticipation was killing him!

He supposed he deserved the guilt that was eating him alive.

He felt like a child awaiting punishment-

Or waiting for a priest at confession…

So, he hung out with Husk, and it helped a little with the guilt…

Because he knew Husk didn't hate him at least.

There was comfort in that.

“What are you going to say?” Husk asks him.

Angel shrugs. “I don't know…but I'm sure I'll think of something.” Angel says.

“Don't overthink it, Charlie is a very forgiving person, you know that." Husk says.

“It's not Charlie I'm worried about.” Angel says.

“I talked to Pentious…he seems to be doing okay.” Husk says. "I think Vaggie would have been the hard one."

Angel nods; it doesn't really matter if Pentious is okay, Angel probably wouldn't be quick to forgive the snake if the roles were reversed.

“Will you be there?’ Angel asks him.

“Do you want me to be?" Husk asks.

“I…I think I'd feel better about it if you were there with me.” Angel says. “For…support?”

“Alright.” Husk agrees. “Then I'll be there.”

"Thanks." Angel smiles.

"How are you feeling?" Husk asks.

"Anxious." Angel answers. "I don't think I've felt this nervous in a long time."

Husk thinks for a moment. "Well, let's focus on getting you to relax."

Angel smirks at Husk who sighs. "Not like that."

Angel chuckles. "Sorry...I think maybe a distraction would be the best thing.”

Husk nods. "We could watch a movie or something."

Angel nods. "Yeah that would be good. It might help." He says, nervously.

Husk didn't have a TV in his room, so they moved to Angel's.

"Pick something out, I'll make us some popcorn, sound good?" Husk asks.

Angel nods.

So Angel put on legally blonde.

It's not his favorite movie of all time, but it never fails to put a smile on his face.

~~~The Vees:~~~

After breakfast, Vox picks up Velvette and takes her to her bathroom to get her clean and ready.

Valentino helped gather everything he'll need for Velvette's hair while Vox cleans her face and hands of the

Vox's got this! He was going to do Velvette's hair! And he's going to succeed!

"You really think you're ready for this?" Val asks him.

"I have been doing research, I've seen both you and Velvette do her hair; I think I got this!" Vox declared.

"Alright, let's see it." Val shrugs.

"Stop me if I do something wrong." Vox says.

Valentino nods. "I will."

"Is it okay if I take off your bonnet and do your hair today babygirl?" Vox asks Velvette.

Velvette thinks about it and finally nods, she trusts Vox.

So, Vox takes off Velvette's bonnet, setting it on the sink. "Alright."

"Start simple." Val tells him. "Do small sections at a time, take her braids out, then start detangling with her comb." Val says, handing him the comb.

"Got it" Vox says, taking the comb and setting it in front of him.

He starts with one side of her head and starts undoing the braids carefully-

"Ow!" Velvette shouts.

"Sorry, Vel. Are you okay?" Vox asks.

"She's fine. Keep going." Val tells him, sounding a bit irritable.

Vox finishes taking out her braids, a little more carefully, then he grabs a spray bottle full of water and conditioner and he starts spraying her hair to make sure it's damp.

Velvette closes her eyes, not liking the cold water.

Vox grabs a comb next.

Velvette is a little nervous since Vox has never done her hair fully before.

"Start at the ends and work your way up." Val tells Vox. "Slowly." He emphasized.

"Okay" Vox starts gently combing her hair carefully at the ends and makes his way to her roots.

So far so good.

Once he finishes a section, Val hands him some rubber bands that have been bathing in oil. He puts each section in a ponytail and moves onto the next.

He kept it going till her hair was split into four sections.

Val gave him small pointers: "Don't put the bands on too tight."

"You're gonna need more water than that." "You'll need some more moisture."

Vox was doing fine, but Velvette was getting restless! This was taking forever! And she was bored!!

Velvette starts fussing and trying to get away. "Woah, Vel. You have to stay still, baby." Vox tells her.

Velvette whines, she doesn't want to! She wants to play!

"I'll get her tablet, you start braiding." Valentino tells him before heading downstairs.

"Thanks" Vox says.

Vox would never admit this to Val, but he was worried about breaking Velvette's beautiful hair.

If he breaks her hair, she's never going to speak to him again, and honestly, he'd hate himself more than he already does.

He takes a few seconds to calm down, counting to ten as he takes deep breaths. He has done braids before on dolls...and He's watched Valentino do her hair a million times...he totally has this in the bag.

Okay, no he doesn't, but he's going to try anyway!

If he's going to be Velvette's caregiver, he's gonna need to learn how to do her hair properly.

Velvette is kicking her legs anxiously, she doesn't want to be here, she wants to play!!

"Hey, Velvette. What color bands do you want?" Vox asks her, holding up her box of hair ties.

Velvette looks at them, happy to finally get to do something fun! She picks up some purple and hot pink ones.

"Both of these?" He asks.

She nods. "Yea. Voc, tabbit!" She whines.

"I know, babygirl." Vox says, working on the first braid by moisturizing it again. "Val is getting you your tablet right now."

Velvette huffs.

"Is it hurting at all?" Vox asks.

Velvette shakes her head. "No."

"Okay good, hopefully that means I'm doing something right." He says.

Val comes back with Velvette's tablet.

"How am I doing?" Vox asks Val anxiously.

"You're doing fine. Don't overthink it, its hair, not a bomb you need to defuse." Val says, handing the little doll her tablet.

Velvette giggles happily and starts playing Sofia the first.

Vox continues braiding her hair as he sings along with Val and Velvette: "I was a girl in the village doing alright-"

He successfully braids her hair in four simple braids.

She looked adorable!

Her hair wasn't perfect by a long shot- but it was done, and Vox couldn't be prouder of himself.

"Okay, Vel. What do you think?" Vox asks her.

Velvette's chair is turned so she can look in the mirror. She giggles happily.

"Do you like it?" Vox asks.

Velvette nods and reaches for Vox who happily picks her up.

"Not bad." Valentino says. "Braids aren't too tight, not a lot of loose hairs." He comments, looking over Velvette's head.

"Thanks." Vox says.

"Now that I know you can actually do this, I trust you know I won't be doing her hair every single time now." Val says.

Vox rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah." He basically does all the caregiving for Vel and Val anyway, what else is new?

"Anyway, I'll be at the studio today, you two have fun!" Val tells them.

"Bye-bye Tio!" Velvette says, waving at him.

"Bye, babydoll." Valentino says to her.

Vox takes a deep breath, he doesn't want to think about the fact that Val is absolutely picking Angel Dust over him...again.

It's totally not important, Velvette is what's important now. "So, what now?" Vox asks.

"Uhm." Velvette thinks about it. "Tea party!"

Vox chuckles. "Sure, why not?" He asks, carrying her to her room once again.

~~~Later: The Hotel~~~

Vaggie approached Angel after they watched Legally blonde... and then clueless...and then mean girls, and then Heather's (best one).

"So, Charlie is feeling a lot better. She's downstairs if you want to talk to her." Vaggie tells him.

Angel nods anxiously. "Okay."

Vaggie can tell Angel is nervous, so she tries to help. “I already talked to Charlie and Pentious.” Vaggie says. “So, if you're not comfortable-”

“No, it's okay. I need to face this.” Angel says. “I need to talk to Pen and Charlie myself. They need to hear it from me.”

Vaggie smiles and nods, seeming…proud? Maybe? He's not sure.

He did appreciate her trying to make this easier, but it has to be hard if he's ever going to win their trust back.

Husk smiles and follows Angel downstairs, Vaggie following them closely.

Pentious and Charlie were in the main room talking.

"Oo! And in grannies, Bluey and bingo pretend to be old ladies, and bingo wants her granny to floss but Bluey says granny's can't floss."

"But, why can't grandmothers participate in general dental hygiene?" Pentious asks.

Charlie shakes her head. "No no, not that kind of flossing it's-"

Angel walked over and stood in front of them. “Hey…”

Charlie and Pentious stop and look at him.

Charlie smiles at him with more kindness than he's seen…in a long time. “Hi, Angel."

“Hello.” Pentious says, looking at Angel with a face he couldn't quite identify-

He's narrowing it down between upset or awkward…he's not sure which is better.

“Uh- can we talk?” Angel asks.

Charlie turns to Pentious who nods. “Of course, Angel.” She says, gesturing for him to join her on the couch. "What's up?"

He sits down next to her, a bit of a distance, enough to at least face the two.

Husk sat down next to him, while Vaggie chose to stand.

“I'm really sorry.” Angel starts, causing Pentious to look up at him with concern. “I fucked everything up! You trusted me, an1d all I did was show you why…you really shouldn't. I know talk is cheap, but, if you'll give me another chance, I'd like to show you that I can be trustworthy… of course, I'd understand if you just...can't. I won't stay if you don't want me here anymore." He says.

“Hey, hey, hey. Hold on, Angel." Charlie places her hand on his. "What you did was wrong…but it's not unforgivable.” Charlie says. “Of course we still want you here! It'll take some time to earn back the trust that was bruised, but my faith in you isn’t even close to being damaged.” She says.

Angel nods, not sure how to take that.

“I know you're a good person Angel, I believe in you and I know for certain that you're worthy of heaven.” Charlie says. “I for one forgive you full heartedly.”

“Thank you…Charlie.” Angel says; He doesn't really agree with her, he's not worthy of anything. But he knew arguing would only encourage her to try and help him with ‘self esteem’ or something. “It's nice that you think you feel that way.” Angel says.

“I also will forgive you, Angel." Pentious says. "But! Only if you help me rebuild the lego set you knocked over!” Pentious says, smiling.

“Uhm, okay. I guess I could do that.” Angel chuckles, he's not sure what that is, but he's sure he could handle it.

“I am sorry if I made you feel pressured to take the test. I get over excited about my plans and tend to drag people along even when they're not interested.” Charlie says.

“You didn't…” Angel says. “I don't think you pushed too hard- I was just…scared of what you might find out is all.”

“Hey, the first step towards redemption is admitting fault. You are well on your way.” Charlie says.

Angel couldn't help smiling a little at that…

It wasn't even the idea of redemption that forced it…

It was Charlie basically telling him he did a good job...he doesn't really remember the last time someone said that to him...well, that wasn't Valentino.

“The truth is…I…regress also.” Angel says. “I just-...it's such a vulnerable and terrifying part of me."

"Terrifying?" Charlie asks.

"I'm...people know me." Angel explains. "Do you have any idea what people would do to me if they knew?" He asks.

Husk notices that Angel is clenching his fists angerly, so he offers his support by gently placing a hand on his.

Angel's tension subsides, and he smiles at Husk and takes his hand. "Thanks." He whispers to him.

"I didn't think about that." Charlie says. "I'm so sorry, Angel."

"It's okay...no one's mind should go there. People are sick." Angel says.

"You're safe here, Angel. We won't let anyone else find out, I promise." Charlie says. "We're here for you, and we love you."

Angel smiles at her, trying not to think too hard about what she's saying...

He does feel a little bit better about them knowing...

“Angel…you regress too?” Pentious asks him.

“Uh Yeah...sometimes.” Angel says, rubbing his arm.

“This is…amazing!” Pentious says, suddenly hugging Angel. “Perhaps we could help each other!”

“Um…maybe.” Angel says.

Pentious was very excited! Angel is one of his favorite people!

Angel and him can understand each other! How delightful!

"Can you help me with my lego set now?" Pentious asks.

Angel looks at Charlie who's smiling.

He exhales. Everything is okay...

"Sure Pen." Angel says.

"You want to help too, Husker?" Pentious asks.

Husk smirks at the snake. "Sure, why not?"

Pentious leads the two to the office while Vaggie and Charlie are left where they are.

Vaggie sits next to Charlie. "You doing okay?" Vaggie asks.

Charlie smiles. "Yeah, thanks Vaggie."

"Anytime, sweetie." Vaggie says.

Charlie hugs her girlfriend. "I'm so lucky to have you. I hope you know that I love you so much!"

"I love you too." Vaggie says, holding her back. "And believe me, I'm the lucky one."

~~~Vox and Velvette: That night ~~~

Vox was enjoying a drink on the terrace when Velvette approached him.

"Hey, mind if I join you?" She asks him.

Vox gestures for her to sit on the seat next to him.

“How are you feeling?” Vox asks.

Velvette shrugs. “I'll be fine. How about you?”

“Carmilla agreed to sell us some weapons for Angelic security.” He says.

Velvette nods. "That's good. At least she listens to someone.”

“She'll regret ignoring you, Vel. They all will. Just give it time.” Vox says seriously.

"I suppose." Velvette says. "I honestly don't know why it bothers me so...I mean, she's just a fucking pussy!" She growls.

Vox shrugs, Carmilla may be a lot of things, but that is one word he wouldn't describe her as. Her objections may have to do with Velvette herself, no one seems to see how extremely talented she truly is...which has worked in their benefit...but still.

Velvette walks over to the railing."I don't know...maybe it comes from my parents. I wasn't worth it to my father to stick around...and my mum was always trying to change me." She explains. "I thought since I have rank here...I'd be listened to."

Vox follows her, handing her a drink. "Yeah...I was a child of divorce too, it can be it's own hell." Vox says. "I also know what it's like to be ignored; in fact, most of my friends decided they are better off without me in their life."

"I'm not." She says, placing a hand on his arm.

Vox smiles at her. "You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think you're brilliant, Vel." Vox says. "We're going to own this place because of you."

"Thanks Vox." Velvette says.

It was getting late, and everyone had work to do tomorrow.

"I'm going to bed. You coming?" Velvette asks him.

"Eh, I'm gonna get some work done." Vox shrugs.

“Don't work too hard.” Velvette tells him.

“Please, the employees do most of the work.” He says. "Tomorrow will be a breeze."

"Sure." Velvette rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say."

Vox set down his drink and sighs...

The truth is...it's way easier to work the feelings away..

Better to keep himself busy than let himself slip.

♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇

'Your journey's underwayIt'll take time to cover your/my vast multitude of sinsBut sorry is where it begins. '~It starts with sorry, Hazbin Hotel

Possum:

Sorry the chapter took so long to write! I hope it was alright and worth the wait.

Idk how I feel about it, I'm too tired to think. If it's not great, the next chapter should be better. I hope.

There will be 1 more chapter before part 2. I was gonna end part 1 with only 10 chapters, but there was room for one more very important chapter.

BTW everyone should read

Accident by Miraculous_Demigod on A03 if you want good Little!Velvette content.

Now! If you'll all kindly excuse me, I'm gonna play with my new LPS I got for my birthday and watch Bluey!

Love you!!

See ya! 💖✨️✨️

Tag: @babiegurlmuffin @todayimfour @ask-dusty-boy @trophyxtissues2 @im-not-paying-my-taxes

#ittybittysinners #hazbin hotel agere #ittybittysinnersq&h #hazbin hotel age regression #little!velvette #cg!Vox #little!Charlie #little!Pentious #cg!Vaggie

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stillfrownyclownlol · 5 months

Text

Oh nooooo somebody stole my Aidlyn/Ashden headcanons so now I have to write more ... ✨️

(SORRY IM SPAMMING THE TAG 😭😭😭)

Some of these are based on my dad because he has bpd and he really reminds me of Aiden.

-His sense of humor is so broken like. Probably makes "that's what she said" and "your mom" jokes. Ash thinks he is the unfunniest person alive 🤡 and she STILL laughs at him (but never when he's trying to be funny). I think he'd be on Vine a lot lmao. He would laugh at that video of the bread slice falling over no cap.

-Aiden Clark, Professional Doomscroller. Maybe an itty bitty bit addicted to social media cuz "omg easy dopamine hit" even if he doesn't post a lot. Would prolly be chronically on TikTok if he was a teen today 🤡 Ash WILL steal his phone and hide it so they can "do something productive" (which alternates between her trying to teach him basic life skills to him falling out of a tree because they went outside for five minutes)

-her parents also gave him a truly awful shovel talk. He came out of it, kneeled in front of her, and said if he broke her heart to kill him before her parents did 💖 Tyler and him bond about their "scary in laws", although he has a better relationship with Mike and Emma than Tyler does with Mary and James 🤡

-convinced her to go to prom because "free food" and managed to wrangle out a slow-dance from her. He already likes dancing, SHE likes dancing...he wants to dance together ^_^

-She really likes his normal smile, when he's not forcing it. He takes good care of his teeth, so he's got a real bright smile :)

-Aiden tried to teach her how to skateboard a few times. She can...stand on it without falling off and roll around, but no tricks lol. Ash still thinks it was just an excuse for him to grab her hands or waist while she was balancing.

-Some problems in the relationship: they are not very good at communicating how they feel, so there's a lot of misunderstandings between them unless the gang intervenes haha ":D Sometimes Ash feels very suffocated by him and she really dislikes his apathy towards himself, and Aiden sometimes feels like Ash doesn't care about him nearly as much as he cares about her.

-his depressive episodes alternate between "I'm just gonna lie here and hope I die" to "actively trying to self destruct", sometimes he might go on a binge (overdosing on his meds, and when he's older he might sometimes drink too much or go on really dangerous joy rides, he's an awful driver), they really freak Ash out :( Recovery is a very long road with no end destination. She's trying to get better at reassuring him and he's trying to...just get better.

-both of them suck at remembering their anniversary 🤡 Aiden is a littleeeee bit better

-They have a knife collection they share ❤️

-he has her as "love of my life 💖✨️😍" on his phone contacts and has a special ringtone for her and everything. Absolutely not embarrassed about it, Ash...definitely is 💀 (she has him as "Aiden")

-sends her really bad poetry he wrote for her because writing his feelings down by himself is easier than saying it in the moment. Ash keeps all of them in a shoebox in her closet.

-she's not really good with touching and stuff but she feels better touching him, like a good stim. Really likes holding his face (no eye contact). Also enjoys him holding her hand.

-Secretly a little insecure about how she looks. She has never really thought about it before because she never cared about it, but now, in a relationship, she's kinda self conscious about him perceiving (read: constantly staring) her. She's very short and thin (even with muscles from ballet and training) and feels like a "late bloomer." Aiden thinks she's the closest thing to physical perfection that exists and will tell her this constantly ^_^

-She actually likes how he smells (grâce à: his really expensive soap lmao) but she would die before telling him lol

-The first time she kissed him her brain kinda shut off and she just squished their faces together while puffing her cheeks up. He bust out laughing and completely murdered the mood 💀 They'll figure it out...eventually

#heres a game: guess which ones are my dad lol #sbg #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg (webtoon)#school bus graveyard #aiden clark #aidlyn #ashlyn banner #aiden x ashlyn #headcanon #tw self destruction

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kakujis · 1 year

Text

you what?;

a/n: hey... remember a couple months ago i said i wanted to write out what happens after this? well i did, it just took me a while! also sorry, i think i just write a pretty soft whitney so sue me!!! also, i definitely wrote the first half 4 months ago and the last half today LOL. oh reader is in love w whitney bc IM in love w whitney. >:)

wc: 2.01

warnings: afab!reader, overstim, oral f!receiving (with whitney?! blasphemy), unprotected, creamp*e , usage of the words slut n whore, violence, itty bitty angst, not proofread, that should be it! lmk if i forgot any!

“i think,” hesitates a slight boy from behind. “i think that’s Whitney’s girl.”

“fuck,” the taut boy says, releasing you at once. “don’t tell him i touched you.” the pair shove past you, leaving you to compose yourself.

you sigh, brushing your skirt back down. at least i can get to class in time. grabbing your bookbag you head towards the door. as you leave, you jump at the sound of banging metal.

“shit! we’re sorry! serious-“ the two boys that were assaulting you earlier are unfortunately between a locker and whitney. his friends stand by his side, blocking their escape. the boy’s friend cowers by him, holding his head in his hands.

“answer me. don’t tell me what?” whitney hisses with a swift kick to the taut boy’s stomach. he stands bent over, hands in his pocket, his right foot raised.

as quietly as you can, you start to walk the other way. no way. there’s no way i’m getting detention for being late again. i’ll just go and-

“oi, whit, ain’t that your girl?” one of his friends asks.

fuck.

you freeze, keeping your head down while hugging your bag tightly. whitney’s scary when he’s mad, even if it’s not at you.

whitney smiles, before lowering his foot back onto the ground. swiftly, he turns, and you hear the squeak of his shoes heading towards you.

its not long before you feel his hand in your hair, wincing as he pulls, no, drags you towards the cowering boys. “c’mere, youre gonna tell me what happened.”

once close enough, he releases your hair and shoves you forward. he grabs your arm right as you feel your balance slipping. his nails dig into your skin and you find yourself staring down at the meek figures.

“alright slut, spill it. what happened?” he asks, holding you in place.

you can’t help but feel bad. tears roll down the taut boy’s face, his gaze downcast. but lying to whitney has consequences and you don’t particularly want to face them.

so you tell him. starting with how the encounter itself was brief and nothing happened-

“but they still tried to touch what’s mine, right?” he says, his grip tightening even more.

“w-whit, that hurts..” you squeak, hoping he’ll let up. he has to be leaving a mark at this point. his face is unreadable as you look back over your shoulder.

“then answer me, stupid.” he says, beginning to twist your arm. the pain starts shooting up your limb, burning.

“yes! yes they tried..” you yell, “please, just let go!”

and he does, pulling you behind him. “sit.”

and you do, holding your battered arm. what happens next doesn’t surprise you, whitney and his friends take turns assaulting the boys, kicking and punching.

you close your eyes and wait, for what seems like an eternity for the abuse to stop. by the end, the two boys are crying and trembling, crumpled on the floor. whitney squats down, grabbing the taut boy’s hair and bringing up to look at him one last time.

he moves closer and whispers something in his ear. his eyes widen as he nods profusely. “n-never again, w-we’ll never even look at her ever again.”

“good.” whitney lets go, the boy’s head dropping. he turns toward you, holding his hand out. “let’s go.”

tentatively, you grab his hand, bracing yourself. to your surprise he helps you up gently, looking you over, as if he didn’t just shove you around too. once satisfied, he slings his arm around you and starts dragging you down the hallway. his friends follow shortly after.

“what? didn’t like the show?” he smirks, lowering his arm to your waist.

truth be told, you didn’t necessarily like it, but you felt a little warm thinking about how he protected you. but you knew you couldn’t condone it. nervously thumbing at your bag strap, you mumble “i just think… you’re a little too mean sometimes. did you really have to go so-“

“we’re here.” he interrupts and you’re hit with some deja vu. you find yourself standing in front of the same empty classroom from earlier. he opens the door and shoves you in.

ah, of course this is what he wants. not actually to protect you, more so to make sure no one else can use you. you’re disappointed because deep down you thought maybe, just maybe, he could’ve at least pretended he cared about you more than that.

“not in front of your friends… please.” you say, fighting back some tears. god, you were stupid. your request was for some semblance of dignity, because what was he? he certainlywasn’t yours, but you were always his.

he mulls it over, eyeing your downcast form, before nodding. he shoots a glance at his friends to leave and keep watch outside.

“so tell me, what the fuck are you upset about now?” he sighs as he grips your chin with his hand, forcing you to look up at him. “afraid more monsters are gonna get you?” he mocks, trying to not laugh.

you’re not sure why you feel so compelled to tell him, to feel any kind of care from him at all. why? he’s an asshole who assaults you on the daily, emotionally and physically. and yet, you still spit back at him.

“am i just something to use?” hot tears spill down your face, coating his fingertips, “do you even care about me or do you really think i’m just that stupid-“

“yes,” he interrupts bringing his face closer to yours, glaring. “maybe if you weren’t so fucking stupid and stopped letting others touch you, then i wouldn’t have to remind them. but you’re too fucking naive aren’t you?”

he pins you to the nearest desk, his leg in between your thighs. you can’t help but let out a small moan when his thigh makes contact with your clothed cunt. you bite on your lip, trying to stifle your noises, his friends were outside.

whitney continues, “i do so much for your stupid ass and you’re going to cry over it? all because you got your feelings hurt?”

soon enough you’re practically bouncing on his thigh with the wetness between your legs starting to seep through your underwear. fuck, you hope he doesn’t notice you broke a rule. if he does, he doesn’t comment instead focusing on finding a rhythm that makes you moan harder. he’d never admit it, but your moans are like music to his ears, a constant reaffirmation of what is his.

“are you wet slut?” he growls, breath hot as he nips at your ear. you whine in response as he continues down, peppering your throat with bites and licks. releasing his grip on your face, he starts tugging at your shirt.

“take this off, now.” he commands, and you oblige with shaky hands. he throws your garment to the side, removing his leg to quickly tear off your skirt and underwear. you whimper at the loss of stimulation, cheeks burning as you stand on display.

he looks you over, eyes trailing down your body with w pleased hum. “no wonder everyones so eager to fuck my bitch.” you feel yourself deflate at his words, soyou sink to your knees and begin crawling up to him.

he slaps your hands away when you try to grab for his belt and you blink, perplexed. he looks annoyed, but the thumb running over your mouth says otherwise. “i didn’t say you could suck me off,” he sounds mean, but there’s a blush tinting his face as he pushes you down, back flush to the floor.

“whit?” you question, eyes wide and mind tumbling.

“shut up,” he says, as he spreads your legs, “before i change my fucking mind.”

settling himself between your thighs, he glances up at you once more before flicking his eyes toward the door. you look back, the form of his friends against the door, as if a warning to keep quiet, that’s right, he’d be mortified if his friends saw he was the one giving pleasure and not receiving it. you make eye contact and nod at him as he scoffs, a little annoyed you know him so well, and then he’s diving in.

little kitten licks against your clit and sloppy long ones in between your folds have you keeling, into his mouth. he digs his nails into your thighs as you squirm and struggle to stay still. throwing one arm over your waist, he keeps you in place, as his tongue fucks your hole languidly.

he’s never gone down on you before, the feeling is foreign, yet so good. you try your best to stay quiet, you really do, but you can’t help but have a breathless “f-fuck,” escape as his tongue massages your gummy walls. his hand comes down to slap your pussy hard and you yell before you use a hand to cover your mouth and glance back at the door.

he replaces his tongue with his fingers, disconecting from you with a sticky string of saliva. “keep your fucking mouth shut, dumb slut or i’ll tell my friends to come in so they can watch me face fuck you.” he snarls, curling his fingers in as he finishes his sentence, hitting right at your sweet spot.

you bite down on your lip, shaking your head frantically, as you watch his friends joke around outside. he curls his fingers in again, and your eyes roll back, before he’s shifting up and grabbing your face.

“eyes on me, dummy.” he glares and you nod, watching as you settles back into his original position. continuing to finger you, he latches back onto your clit, suckling the bundle of nerves. you card your fingers through his hair and he grunts in response, picking up the pace of his digits and his tongue.

its not long before you’re cumming, bucking up into his mouth as he struggles to hold you still. you bite hard enough to draw blood as your orgasm runs through you, body trembling and shaking as he pulls off, too distracted to notice to the sound of his belt undoing.

he lines up with your twitching hole before he sinks himself in, you gasp clawing at his arms. “my turn.” he says through gritted teeth, giving you no time to adjust as he slams into you setting off a brutal pace.

he doesn’t bother shutting you up now, your moans ripping through the air with little intermissions of “wait! whit too much, too much!” tears prickling your eyes as he abuses your cunt.

“don’t fuckin’ care,” he grunts, “i can use you whenever i want,” his nails once again digging into your hips. pain always turns to pleasure with whitney, your overstimulated body once again burning with desire.

he laughs as your legs wrap around his waist, “feels good, huh?”

“mm, yeah,” you hiccup, pretty eyes rolling back, “feels so good, whit.”

the grip on your hip gets even tighter, “gonna cum again?” he starts, but his thrusts are getting sloppier with each throb of your cunt on his cock.

you nod at him, “yeah ‘m gonna,” you mumble, staring up at him through hazy eyes.

he wraps one hand around your throat, squeezing lightly, “then do it, whore.” and you do.

wrapping your hand around his wrist as you convulse again, entire body shaking. whitney isn’t too far off after you, filling your cunt with spurts of white.

“love you,” you pant as he pulls off and out of you. he hesitates for a second and you’re not sure why you felt the need to tell him.

he looks at you, no, analyzes you and your fucked out face alongside your cunt that leaks with his seed. he opens his mouth, as if he wants to say something before he shakes his head, a little confused. he grabs your clothes and throws them back at you. he walks to the door, leaving you to get dressed but you don’t mind, noting the little smile he tries to hide on his face.

#degrees of lewdity #whitney the bully #dol whitney #dol #dol x reader #whitney the bully x reader #pibby writing #huuuh theres so little to tag damn #time to not play or write for dol for anotha 4 months see ya then soldiers

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the-heart-of-a-monster · 2 months

Note

HOPPING ON HERE AGAIN FOR ANOTHER SUPER LONG THEORY POST BOYSSSSS

Hello THOAM people! How are you all doing today? Good? Great? Did you just have one of the best days in your entire life and you are certain that nothing could possibly ruin it for you now??

WELL YOU ARE WRONG. /j I AM HERE TO RUIN IT ALL.

that is very much a joke I’m sorry I’m very high on adrenaline right now becAUSE THE NEW COVERS FOR ISSUE 9 JUST DROPPED AS I’M WRITING THIS OUT AND I AM SO EXCITED TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT AND I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS. So why don’t I just cut the dilly-dallying and get right on with it?

———

So, first thing I wanna mention is Sonic’s current state and his relationship status. (You may take that as out of context as you want lol) Sonic is currently in an internal state of panic mixed in with exhaustion. MAJOR exhaustion! Bro had to rush to Omega’s aid right after fighting Shadow in a cave full of ice. If that’s not draining as heck then I have no idea what isn’t. And on top of all that, he not only almost killed Omega, but he also knows now that his friends have known what was going on with him for a while! Probably ever since the scene where him, Tails, and Knuckles went out for breakfast and he passed out at the table. (I can’t remember which issue that was atm. I think issue 3…?) In short, Sonic is experiencing a whole rollercoaster of emotions right now, and he isn’t even awake yet! As soon as he wakes up I theorize he’s gonna be asking everyone a lot of questions, and will then ask for elaborations on top of all the answers he receives! I also don’t think he will be as trusting of others anymore, since his friends all knew of his biggest kept secret for a long while now and nobody said or did anything about it!

Now combine that with the guilt he must feel for Omega… The last thing Sonic witnessed before passing out was him going on a rampage and almost killing the robot. He must not feel great about that…! 🫢 And his relationship with Team Dark will be relatively strained as well. I mean, aside from Rouge probably. She loves Omega, but knows the context behind the situation and doesn’t blame Sonic much for what happened, so I think she won’t change much around the Blue Blur. Though his relationship with Shadow was already strained before all that, so… Yeah.

ALRIGHT TIME TO TALK ABOUT CHIP WOOHOOOOOOOO

We all know now that Chip has finally experienced what I’m calling, “✨God Puberty✨”

(Imagine there are pretty pink sparkles floating around the name. Kinda like the classic “You’re watching Disney Channel” thing)

This ✨God Puberty✨ has essentially opened Chip’s eyes, and changes the game completely! Now we not only have a god on our side but also a god who has context! I believe Chip will try and guide Dark Gaia back to its sleeping state to restore balance like they usually do, as explained in the comic, but the attempt will backfire seeing as Dark Gaia was awoken prematurely by Dr. Eggman. (More on him in a second) Chip will keep trying, because they’re a big floofy funny god that just wants food and just went through ✨God Puberty✨ so they’ll naturally wanna keep this going at a peaceful rate. Because despite all of his power, Chip is still Chip. Just a smol bitty guy who wants ice cream. With the addition of being a god. Sonic will then of course have to step in, leading to him getting his Gaia energy taken away and him being free of this curse, and then the events of the game finale play out as normal. Probably. It’s getting late now and I’m getting tired so my brain energy is wavering so idk exactly if that’s what will happen but it’s some food for thought I suppose.

NOW WE CAN FINALLY TALK ABOUT EGGMAN OH MY GOSH YES LET’S TALK ABOUT THE PATHETIC EGG-SHAPED SCIENTIST THAT WE CALL A MAN MADE OUT OF EGGS

To keep this short and simple, I’ll discuss Eggman within the context we have based solely on the new covers alone. Meaning the only speculation I’ll be doing is based off of those and the last few times we’ve seen the guy in the comic. Which actually was… A long time ago, actually. If I’m remembering correctly, that is. I could be wrong. ANYWHIZZLE LEMME STOP JABBERING AND LET’S GET ON WITH THE THEORIZING-

So the first cover shows a new, most likely final form of Sonic’s, encasing Eggman in a cracked eggshell while using his claws. Or more specifically, there is Eggman, acting as an egg yolk, sitting in a puddle of egg whites with the shell on each side of him, while Sonic’s Gaia claws slowly close in on him in the back. Sonic is staring at him menacingly, his anger and frustration reaching a boiling point due to all the stress he’s most likely experiencing combined with the Dark Gaia energy within him. This cover makes me assume that this issue is gonna act as the final battle against Eggman, a final “Screw you!” To the fat man in red. Obviously, Eggy ain’t going down without a fight, as shown in the next cover, but we’ll get to that in a minute.

The first cover suggests that Eggman is gonna be the main role of the issue, and that he’s gonna get his ass kicked. Sonic is gonna confront him, fully transform into his final Werehog form due to anger and stress, and we’ll then move onto the next issue probably. Again, I’m getting tired so this theory is getting pretty sloppy.

Now onto cover numero dos! I love this cover honestly, and it’s literally only because Knuckles and Tails are seen defending a transforming Sonic from Eggman. They are literally using themselves as like. A meat shield. Normally I’d be like “Oh no what happened????” But right now all I can think is “Omg ✨Brothers✨ 🤩”

———

AGAIN IM GETTING VERY TIRED NOW SO I WILL UNFORTUNATELY END THIS HERE AND WILL NOW GO BRUSH MY TEETH BUT HOPEFULLY I WILL REMEMBER TO COME BACK AND ELABORATE TOMORROW IF I HAVE THE TIME. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, IT MEANS A TON THAT YOU TOOK THE TIME OUT OF THE DAY TO DO THAT.

oki ima go sleeb now thank you bai

The art for the covers was great btw I just wanted to let you know it’s absolutely wonderful I could look at it all day

you're gonna love what's gonna happent his issue, i can tell!!!!!!

only um. i think you were wayyy too tired so you confused sonic with metal sonic. either that ur ur just very polite to metals insistance that he is the real sonic.

#fan lore #clover-the-awesomest #long post #text heavy #fan theories

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gaspshichat · 2 months

Text

we have a very long post again so i can bet y'all know who this is about. that's right. pearl appreciation post

it's a little more vent-y than i wanted bc i do talk about what's wrong with me and the things going on with my weird messed up body so please be careful of that. if you want to skip all of that, there is a big bolded red label titled "appreciation part"

i talked about my sun allergy on pearl's stream today and she asked what happened to me in the sun. i've spoken a little on the things wrong with me [although i don't go into too much detail bc i don't want to burden or worry pearl/chat more than i already do] so she does know a thing or two about me

(transcription: um, thank you for the ten bitties, gasps! "i get really bad sunburns that blister with severe rashes." *pained* ooh. "can't be outside for more than five to ten minutes without severe pain. that's why i work nights and have a night schedule." oh my gosh. that must be super difficult, gasps. i'm sorry that you have to deal with that! wow. you- you've got like- the world is not kind to you, i feel like. um. there's- there's so many things that you go through and- my gosh. i hope- i hope- i hope you're doing okay. that's a lot to deal with, though. that is a lot to deal with)

[also, side note. every time pearl calls me gasps i half expect her to call me vyren aka my name even though it would startle me if she randomly did one day. i forget she most likely doesn't know it or how to pronounce it lmao. it's vie-ren, not veer-in]

there's a line from that that keeps replaying in my mind just over and over again

"the world is not kind to you, i feel like"

i just keep repeating it because it's true. the world is not kind to me and i've spoken a little about this. i'll never be healthy or okay and never even had the chance. i was destined the life i live

watching pearl's streams and videos and chatting in her discord server help me forget all of that. i can pretend i'm not sick, that my bones don't scrap together, that the fever is gone [hell, sometimes i can pretend it was never there]. for four hours three times a week, i can pretend

every time i have a health update, pearl always tells me she hopes i get better or at least get an improvement. i always appreciate these moments and hold them close bc despite the fact that i cannot get better, they mean a lot

i'm getting blood tests hopefully in three months to see if i have one disorder. the disorder is incurable and genetic unfortunately. if i do have the disorder [almost 100% likely], we'll see if the meds help with me being sick

[APPRECIATION PART]

pearl, if you end up seeing this, thank you so much for everything. thank you for reading every bits message people send, thank you for spreading positivity, thank you for having a true safe space, thank you for your get well wishes, thank you for being genuinely kind, thank you for just being a good person, thank you for caring, thank you for remembering, thank you for being you

it's hard to come by someone who's a good person, especially in the world we live in today. i'm so happy and proud to be apart of your community that you've created. everyone here is so kind and it's genuinely refreshing

i hope these appreciation posts help you and seeing everything people say in the reblogs, especially on my last one. i'm still getting a lot of notifications from that post

[sometimes i wonder if these posts are too much. if you have an issue with them, pearl, please tell me! i'll stop/tone it down in a heartbeat]

sorry for a long post but at this point y'all know that i have long lost the ability to shut up

#pearlescentmoon #appreciation post #maintagging bc i want her to see this but if she doesn't want to reply that's okay #i just needed to say this #i am once again asking for pearl positivity in the reblogs

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cricketnationrise · 9 months

Note

Hi cricket!! First off, congrats! For the ficlet fest, here's my request (thank you for your consideration!):

Timestamp: 5:19am, Location: Jack's Room, Character: Bitty 😉

Super excited to see what you come up with, friend! 💖

a little sleepy caretaking moment for you my dear <3

there's still like 3hrs left of today if you want to submit your own prompt! rules here

🏒🏒🏒🏒

jack's room, 5:19am

Once again, Bitty’s alarm pulls him out of sleep far, far too early. He’d thought that getting up consistently early would make it easier, but it hasn’t. It really hasn’t. It’s as much of a struggle to actually get out of bed before the sun’s up as the first time Jack had appeared at his suite’s door last year. But putting it off won’t make it any easier and having to pull him out of bed just makes Jack grumpy – so he gets moving.

A hiss when his feet hit the chilly floor, and Bitty half-stumbles to the bathroom. A quick splash of water on his face and he’s feeling slightly more awake. A couple minutes later he’s properly dressed (yes, that means three layers, no chirping from giant Canadian mooses) and on the landing – but Jack is nowhere to be seen.

Bitty has never, in all the months they’ve been doing checking practices, been ready before Jack.

“Jack?” Bitty calls softly through the door, with a gentle knock. A muffled groan is the only response.

“Jack, I’m coming in.”

His room is still dark, and Bitty almost can’t see Jack, bundled under his covers, shaking slightly.

“Jack?”

“Five more minutes.”

“Oh lord,” Bitty whispers, tiptoeing closer. From the side of the bed, Bitty can see how much paler than normal Jack is, almost ashen, with unfocused eyes. Quite without realizing it, Bitty’s hand is on Jack’s forehead, feeling his temperature like his Mama always did to him. He’s burning up.

“‘M fine. Just a sec.”

“You’re not fine. You’re sick.”

“Can’t be sick – got checking practice.”

“Not today we don’t,” Bitty says firmly, stepping back towards the door. “You just keep layin’ there looking two feet from death and I’ll fix you something. Tea, for a start. And Rans stashed some Tylenol in our bathroom – see if we can’t get you comfy enough to sleep some more.”

Bitty bustles as quietly as he can to gather supplies and hurries back to Jack’s room with his bounty.

“Okay so there’s water and Gatorade for later, but you should drink the tea, your voice sounded rough. And I found cough drops in case that starts up, oh and I remembered I had VapoRub so—”

“Bittle.”

“Right, sorry, I’ll just leave this stuff here,” he says, arranging everything on the nightstand, “and let you deal with this in peace.”

He’s halfway across the room when a weak “Stay?” comes from the bed. He spins around, surprised to see that Jack is actually sitting up, holding himself up on shaking arms, but looking determined all the same.

“You want me to stay?”

“Please? Until your class at least? You make things…better.”

“Oh,” Bitty says, breath caught. “I— Sure thing, lemme just get more comfy and I’ll be right back.”

Jack slumps back against his pillows, clearly exhausted, but he flashes a small, trembling smile at Bitty. “Thanks.”

“Got your back.”

#cricket writes #ficlet fest 3 #omgcp #check please #year 2 #the haus #ficlet #thesleepyskipper

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prfctparis · 11 months

Text

Operation: Get the Corrie Guards Some Supplies

AO3 Link

summary: Zariza learns that the Coruscant Guard gets less supplies than their siblings who are out at the front lines. She decides to do something about it.

a/n: i started this two years ago & i’m only just now finishing it. anyway – have more my star wars au and my oc zariza :)

"What in the karking sith-hells do you mean you don't have enough supplies to help your siblings?" Zariza incredulously asks. She's following the clone medic around, using the hours of not having padawan classes as time to get to know some of the clones better – more specifically, the Corries, as she's heard some of the 187th guys call them – like she has been doing more and more whenever on leave.

It honestly started out as bringing a 'Sorry You Guys Had to Arrest Me and My Friends and then Witness Me Yell at My Master' apology gift (AKA multiple containers of the best candy and snacks she could find) a few months ago. Then gradually, she began to stop by and check on them for no other reason than the fact that she wanted to – just for the heck of it. Now she almost knows them as well as she does the men in her and Master Mace's battalion. Sometimes Bitty tags along or Elvira (they both came with her to bring the apology gift, seeing as they also got arrested), or sometimes even her other friend Ashlee.

Commander Fox mostly just tolerates her, where as Stone and Thorn have let her follow them around when they aren't on duty. Or even when they are, and they are positive no one will get in trouble for it. Once in a while Fox lets her sit in his office and meditate, which is nice. She's pretty sure it also helps him relax during the extremely stressful days but he isn't willing to admit it, and Zariza isn't about to make him.

More often than not, though, Zariza can be found greeting the shinies if there are any, helping the medics (or anyone, really) with minuscule tasks, and happily spending time with the men off duty. There are all stoic and extremely professional when on the job (which, yeah, is most of the time, and that's a little concerning but also a thought for a other time), but Zariza has helped them have fun when not working by bringing a few games that they can easily hide if and when necessary.

Unfortunately, today none of her friends tagged along for various reasons she can't be bothered to remember at the moment, and now she is on her way with Pat, one of the medics, to get the medical supplies that have arrived.

Which brings them to their current conversation.

The fact that the Corrie Guards don't get as many supplies as the others is almost incomprehensible in her mind. It's also news that immediately gets her riled up.

Pat gives her look – or, she assumes they do. Their helmet is currently on, but the way it tilts gives her some idea of the expression they're wearing. "I thought Jedi didn't cuss?" they ask, instead of replying to her question.

Zariza pauses and then shrugs. "Some do, most don't. Anakin was a bad influence about it growing up, and honestly Master Mace isn't much better. He likes to act like he is, though.”

The medic hums, sounding genuinely interested in that information.

Maybe they are trying to derail the topic, get her mind off of the absurd news of the Guard medics not getting enough supplies to do their jobs. It doesn't work. "But Pat," she stresses, "The medical supplies! You're apart of the GAR, right? They have to give you enough!"

"Technically, they don't have to do anything for us," Pat tells her. They refrain from saying that the clones are all property. Last time someone did that around the little Jedi, she went on a tangent about living sentients and slaves and then meditated in Fox's office long past night fall; General Windu had to come get her.

(Although, witnessing Fox step into his office only to step back out half a second later with extreme confusion on his face was priceless. Stone has a holopic.)

"The Senate believes that because we are stationed on Coruscant, that we need less supplies than our vod’e fighting on the front lines," Pat explains more. "They think it's safer, or something along those lines."

"The Senate doesn't know shit." She pauses, thinking. "...Senator Amidala excluded."

Pat can't help the snort that leaves their mouth.

"Do you at least try to ask for more?" Zariza then asks.

"Yes."

She grunts, clearly upset. "That's not fair."

"Life typically isn't. War, even more so."

Zariza frowns to herself. "Trust me, I know that." The two of them stop, and Pat opens the door they are now in front of. Inside, the containers of the medical supplies, along with everything else the Guard needs regular shipments of, are stacked on top of each other. At first glance, it looks as though there should be enough for the Corries. But she knows better now. "I just wish there was something I could do."

Pat lands a hand on her shoulder. "Kid, just knowing you want to help is more than we can ask for."

She looks at them, frown still in place. "Don't take this the wrong way, but that's kinda pitiful."

They heave a sigh, squeezing her shoulder once before letting it fall. "...Yeah. I know." They shake their head and finally step inside the room. "Come on, now. Let's get everything back to the medbay. I don't want the head medic on our shebs’e for being slow."

+++

Zariza barges into the 187th barracks without any preamble. It happens so suddenly that a few of the men who had been previously relaxing startle into sitting positions, or just down right fall off of their bunks.

Her steps falter and she winces. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

One of them groans from the floor. "It's alright, Command'ika."

Spite walks over to her. "What's got you in a hurry?" he asks, raising an eyebrow when Zariza continues to speed walk through the bunks. He follows her immediately.

"Where's Bitty?" she asks instead of answering.

Spite sighs quietly. "If this is going to get either of you arrested again–."

"No illegal podracing in the lower levels, I promise," she interrupts. "I was just curious about what Anakin saw in it. Never meant to get in trouble."

"Excuse me for having a hard time believing that, sir," Spite says as respectfully as he can.

She shrugs, head swiveling as she looks for the clones' youngest in the 187th. "You probably have a right not to." She huffs, stopping in her tracks. "Seriously, where is he?" Spinning on her heel, she looks up at him with her hands on her hips.

Spite raises an eyebrow again.

"Near the back with Mayhem," one of the soldiers on a nearby bunk says.

Zariza beams. "Thank you, Mak!"

Mak chuckles as she hurries over to the other clones, shrugging at Spite when he sends him an unimpressed look. "What, vod? Afraid this will be the day you lose the bet?"

Spite shakes his head. "It's not happening until the end of the war, I promise you."

"You're both full of osik! It's not happening at all. They're just friends."

"Any day now, I say. They're spending more and more time together."

"Thank you, Exx!" Mak exclaims.

The shiny who spoke right before Exx goes to speak again, but Spite subtly signs for them to pause the conversation as the two teenagers get close. The two walk side by side, their pace fast but not as hurried as Zariza had been minutes earlier. It's not long at all until their conversation can be heard by Spite and the others nearby.

"—just saying that anytime we go out, something chaotic happens. First the incident with that Pantoran's pet, then we got lost in a different district, and then we got arrested–."

"Okay, okay, I get it! But we're just going to the Temple and the Room of a Thousand fountains to meet up with some other padawans. Chaos free!"

When she grins reassuringly, the (biologically) sixteen year old boy pins her with the most skeptical expression Spite has ever seen on him. "You're planning something," he states after a second.

Zariza relents, "Maybe, but–."

"Oh, my gods–."

The two walk by, hardly noticing them, and belatedly shout a goodbye at the barrack's door before it closes completely.

Mak smiles. It's good to see the kids happy; the war has been beating all of their shebs’e as of late, and the death of Commander Ponds lowered all of the kids' morales – Zariza, Bitty, and a lot the shinies. Thankfully, they have been acting more like themselves as the weeks go by.

"Ponds would love to see them hanging out so much," Exx says.

Mak hums in agreement.

"Way to bring down the mood," someone om a different bunk close by mumbles bitterly.

"Guys," Spite tiredly calls out before an argument can break out. "Not tonight. Please."

It's only quiet for a moment.

One of the newer shinies, either brave or stupid, cautiously asks, "...So, is now the time to ask why Bitty ages normally?"

Spite can only sigh.

+++

Mace Windu and Obi-Wan Kenobi are walking through the halls as they converse about mundane things, when they witness Mace's padawan learner, the teen clone, Obi-Wan's padawan learner as well as his grandpadawan, and then Plo's padawan all run by and turn down the nearest corner. The two Masters Jedi share a quick glance before following their path at a much calmer yet still quick pace. They turn the corner just in time to see the five teens hurry into the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

"Did either of you see Ahsoka come this way?" Anakin's voice meet their ears as he hurries to them, slightly out of breath and a bit bewildered. He stops on the other side of Obi-Wan. "Zari, Bitty, Pytir, and Elvira just ran by and dragged her away with them."

"Yes. They went into the Room of a Thousand Fountains," Mace responds. He looks at the young Knight. "Do you have any idea what your sister is planning?"

"Not this time," Anakin sighs, close to a grumble.

"Well," Obi-Wan starts hopefully, "it can't be too bad if they are in the Temple."

Mace gives Obi-Wan a dry look. "Kenobi. You and I both know that has not stopped either Skywalker before."

"Now hold on–."

Obi-Wan nods and sighs. "Yes, that is quite true, unfortunately."

"Hey!" Anakin grunts and crosses his arms. "I've matured," he argued, and is quickly met with matching looks of slight disbelief, though Anakin can tell that Obi-Wan is also amused.

"I suggest we just leave them to it," Mace eventually says, which surprises both of the other men but Anakin is the only one who lets it show completely; Obi-Wan's features smooth out. "For now, at least. I trust that we will be able to sense something if anything does go wrong."

Obi-Wan and Anakin agree after a moment's thought. Surely, despite the Skywalker trait of causing trouble no matter what won't make too much of an appearance tonight, and it's not like any of them don't have a way to check up on their respective padawans. Bitty and Elvira, not so much – but surely...

Hopefully whatever they are doing will be mild.

+++

Turns out, planning various ways to get the Corrie Guards more medical supplies without alerting the Senate of anything isn't as easy or as quick as Zariza first wants to believe.

Once she has explained everything to Ahsoka, Elvira, Pytir, and Bitty, they all begin to throw out ideas on what to do and how to do them, and whether or not the entire thing should be a surprise. Zariza immediately argues that it shouldn't. She and Fox don't talk often, most of her time with the other commander is when she's meditating, after all, but she does plan on asking how he would feel about getting him and his brothers more of the things they needed. Plus, she's pretty sure if they sprung this on him as a surprise, then Fox might see it as some sort of charity work – and not in the good way. He seems like that type of person to take it the wrong way, even though they all mean well.

Zariza wants to avoid that.

They stay in the Room of a Thousand Fountains for three hours that night, simply bouncing ideas off of one another. The only solid plan they have is to eventually get their Masters and then the clone commanders of their battalions and legions in on the plan. Maybe somehow get Master Quinlan Vos, too. He works with the Guard for Shadow work sometimes, so hopefully he will be willing to help. It's not too soon after they make up that part of the barely-there-plan when Bitty has to leave back to the barracks, and when Elvira gets a message from Master Plo Koon that they have to leave the next morning to an unknown Outer Rim planet.

("At least it's not Tatooine," Zariza tells her best friend.

Elvira scrunches her nose. "From the stories you've told me, I have to agree."

She smirks to herself and says, "Oh, you should definitely ask Anakin for more stories. Mention the amount of sand," and then turns around to walk off with Bitty back to the barracks.

The message she receives on her comm an hour and a half later from her brother demanding "why the kriff did Elvira just ask me about the karking sand on that sith-damned planet" has her barely holding back laughter when she eats a late dinner with Masters Mace and Depa.)

+++

"So, can I ask why you want to do this for the Corries?" Bitty asks two days later.

They are in hyperspace, off to some place that is being relentlessly attacked by Separatists, and Zariza and Bitty are sitting side by side in a small break room still trying to come up with a solid enough plan before telling anyone else. Sometimes they commtext the others. Zariza should probably be studying for a test she has to take in her negotiations class once they are back on Coruscant, and Bitty should probably be studying one of the many medical holopads the medics gave him to make sure he isn't behind on any knowledge, but instead they are casually playing a miniaturized version of dejarik on her 'pad while they think of how to best go about getting more supplies for the Corries.

Zariza doesn't immediately respond. She moves one of her characters, eliminating two of Bitty's, and he cusses under his breath in Mando'a.

She takes in a steady breath. "So. You... You know how I was a slave?"

He falters. He cautiously glances at her, and then back at the game, pushing the curls off of his forehead when he runs a hand through his hair. "Um. Yeah. It's in your med files," he says. "Even though I'm just a medical assistant to Stitch and them, I have to know your background so I don't, like, traumatize or hurt you any more if I ever need to help the others. I mean, I don't know everything like Stitch has to, but I know some things." Then, awkwardly and because he may be kind of rambling, "Twice, right?"

"Yeah," is all Zariza can say for a moment.

Bitty stays quiet after that. The clones who know that she had been a slave know that it's a...delicate topic, for lack of better words. Something she hardly brings it up with anyone other than Mace and her brother and the mind-healer she's required to talk to regularly. Rarely does she bring it up willingly with anyone else. So, this is unexpected.

He kind of wants to take his original question back, tell her to forget it and that she doesn't have to give him an answer if she doesn't want to. But he doesn't get the chance to.

"Slaves don't get medical help," she finally says, just after Bitty makes a move on dejarik. One of the holomonsters move forward, but nothing else happens. She doesn't take her turn just yet. "If someone gets hurt, we have to rely on each other to take care of each other. Or, uh," her brows furrow, "they do."

Slowly, he nods. "What if– what if someone needs medical help, though?" Bitty haltingly asks despite his better judgement.

She shrugs, expression a bit detached. When she speaks, her voice is equally so. "Dep– ...The slavers don't do anything, mostly just let them die if the wound's bad enough. At those times, the slaves either miraculously live, or don’t. Mercy killings aren't uncommon among them." Dark eyes stare at the game but they're unfocused.

Bitty kind of hates himself for not shutting up.

He fidgets for a moment but then moves to get into a better sitting position – not so accidentally bumping into Zariza during the process. The jostling makes her take in a short yet sharp quiet breath in, and she shakes her head, reaching to make the next move in the holochess game.

"Your brothers not getting the supplies they need..." She sounds more like herself then, even if her voice is still quiet, and she isn't staring through the holomonsters anymore. Rather, she's watching them. "It puts a bad taste in my mouth, so to speak. If I can do something to help, I will."

"You will. I know it," Bitty tells her, and he sounds so sure about it to even his own ears. Zariza finally tears her gaze away from the game and at him. He grimaces. "Just like how I know you're going to beat me in this game again."

She smiles, and settles back in her seat. "If you'd just let me teach you–."

"Nope, no way, I can do it without anyone's help."

"Say that to the past ten times you've lost."

"I think you're gaining an ego."

"I think you're just a sore loser."

"I think you should both be studying," Spite's voice breaks up the bantering as he enters the break room, heading straight for the caf. Both teenagers jump in their seats and turn around on the small, uncomfortable couch to look at the man.

Bitty glowers at him. "Rude."

"Can we finish this round of dejarik first?" Zariza politely asks.

Spite nods with a shrug. "Sure. General Windu is expecting you at one of the training decks in two hours to practice your katas, Commander."

It's Zariza's turn to nod. "Alright. Thanks for telling me." She turns back around, and Bitty begrudgingly does as well – but not without flipping his brother off.

Spite returns the action and plops in one of the chairs across from the couch, caf in hand and bucket at his feet. "Bitty's losing, right?"

"Oh, definitely."

"Good."

"Hey–!"

+++

The plan ends up being this: take an nondescript, little enough amount from the supplies left over missions and campaigns to the Guard. An amount that won't be suspicious when counting how much is left for later restocking. The battalions and legions will take turns bringing the contraband, as Ahsoka has started to begin to describe it, and make the one sided trade in an area that has no cameras or anything of the like because Zariza is pretty sure this might be illegal in the Senate's eyes.

And, well. As much as she doesn't like the Senate, she doesn't want to be arrested a second time or somehow get the Corrie Guards in trouble.

The padawans tell their Masters of the plan, finally, and Bitty tells Spite once Zariza has told Master Mace, and it's not too long after that Commanders Cody and Wolffe and Captain Rex get told of the plan as well. They all have to think on it, which isn't surprising.

If they disagree, Zariza isn't above figuring out a way to do this by herself.

Anakin, though, is on board immediately, which doesn't shock her in the slightest. So is Commander Cody, which does surprise her but maybe it shouldn't, and Commander Wolffe and Master Jedi Plo Koon only have to think about it for an hour before they're both talking more in depth with Elvira about the plan. Obi-Wan is in on it for sure the next day, and then Rex agrees to join in, and soon enough it's only Mace and Spite who have yet to give a definitive answer.

+++

Mace sits down in the grass next to his padawan a week after her talk with Bitty in the break room, during a lull in the current battle. Zariza has a blaster bolt burn on her hip, a cut above her brow, and she's beyond dirty and ashy from fighting for so long. Mace isn't much better, having gotten hit in both the shoulder and foot rather than letting the bolts get the clones.

This particular fight against the Separatists on this particular planet is taking days to win. Even young Bitty, who is usually ordered to stay on the ship, is planet side to help. All hands on deck are needed to care for the wounded.

Everyone is equally tired, and Mace knows that Zariza can tell both through the bond and how he lets himself slouch that he wants this battle to end as much as she does.

"You care a lot," Mace says after a few minutes of silence between them. "I admire that."

Zariza looks at him, and through the Force bond there's a flash of surprise that's otherwise hidden outwardly. It's obvious not what she's been expecting him to say.

"It also means you get attached easier than others, and paired with your stubbornness, it can be dangerous. The same thing goes for your brother, I'm aware," he tells her. "But I won't be getting into that tonight. What I want to say, my padawan, is that I love how you care about the clones. I hope you know that I care about them, too." When she nods, he continues, "I have meditated on it, and I have also talked with Spite, Plo, Kenobi, and Commander Cody each, and between what the Commanders have both shared, it's obvious that their brothers are not as safe from immediate danger as the Senate believes.

"And so because of that," he says with a barely there smile, "I will help you with this plan of yours."

Zariza blinks a few times, rapidly, and grins. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly," he deadpans. His expression cracks into a smile, though, as Zariza can't hold in her laughter. "Plo and I will also be trying our best to talk the Senate into giving the Guard more supplies. I might ask your brother to speak to Senator Amidala for clues as to how to go about doing so. Lastly, Kenobi will be speaking with Vos, to see if he has more insight on how the Coruscant Guards are fairing with their limited supplies. Hopefully this will end up being a short term thing."

She fidgets, smile wide and all teeth, and she's clearly debating something in her head. Mace almost questions her, but stops himself right when Zariza gets a determined glint in her eyes and throws herself at him. Her arms wrap around his torso and her head settles just under her chin. Mace is frozen for all of half a second, and then he hugs her back. He rests his chin comfortably on the top of her head, the training bond singing with warmth in the Force.

"Thanks, Window," she mutters into his robes.

He smiles. "Of course, little one."

+++

Here is what Fox knows about Zariza Skywalker:

1) She is somehow related to General Skywalker. Whether she's his sister, or cousin, or not related biologically but chose for some reason to have his last name, he doesn't know. And he doesn't plan on asking.

2) As much as she is quiet and kind and polite, she's sometimes also chaotic and snappish and loud. A living contradiction. He thinks it has something to do with General Mace Windu being her Jedi Master that she isn't more rambunctious like General Skywalker. (The stories he's heard from both Cody and Rex are...something, that's for sure.)

3) She doesn't trust the Senate – or something similar. He doesn't know fine the details, but Thire has witnessed her roll her eyes at Senator Orn Free Ta behind the twi'lek's back and then mutter how he's a "disgusting piece of bantha fodder." Fox has no idea what a bantha is, but he's inclined to agree, anyway.

4) She likes befriending his siblings. They like befriending her, too. They all love how she always asks for their names, not their numbers, and makes sure to use them. Of course other Jedi do the same, but a few still use numbers when someone hasn't chosen a name. The little Skywalker doesn't. She even helps some of them try out different names, and makes suggestions when they ask.

(There's also a rumor, one Fox doesn't know how to feel about. If what he heard from Wolffe, who heard from Cody, who heard from Rex, who heard from Grey, who heard from Ponds, who had heard from Spite is true...then the vod'ika who got experimented on to age normally has a crush on her. It might be reciprocated. Part of Fox wants to approve, but his little brother liking someone who is technically his CO sets off warning bells in his head.)

And the newest information: 5) as a padawan, General Skywalker accidentally let loose a murder droid within the Jedi Temple, and Commander Skywalker, as an initiate, attached a flesh eating plant to it for, in Quinlan's words, "shits and giggles."

"I'm sorry," Fox starts, having trouble processing what the Jedi just said. Maybe the lack of sleep is finally catching up. "They did what."

Quinlan shrugs, nonchalant as always, and holds his hands with his palms facing Fox. "I said what I said, Foxy. Murder droid, flesh eating plant – that's literally all I know. Obes told me about it since I hadn't been at the Temple at the time, and he didn't give me the full story."

He has...so many questions. Too many to say his usual dispute about being called 'Foxy'.

"But speaking of the little Skywalker," Quinlan begins and Fox doesn't get a chance to articulate any of the thoughts running through his mind, "She's coming by here to ask you about something."

"When?" The dread is already forming in his gut. If this somehow ends with a flesh eating plant being involved–

A soft knock on his office door sounds.

"Now, apparently," Quinlan says.

Fox gives him a dry look. "You don't even know it's her."

"Force signature." As if that's supposed to be the explanation.

Hells, Jedi are too vague sometimes.

"...Right," he sighs. He doesn't bother putting on his bucket. "Come in!"

The door to his office slides open, and Commander Skywalker steps in. Her appearance takes him by surprise. Visibly tired, a white bandage pokes out from under her sleeveless Jedi tunic, and her curly dark brown hair that's usually down is in a loose nerftail. She's also still wearing the pieces of armor her battalion gave her to wear on her forearms, chest, knees, and calves – all obviously hastily cleaned. With the way she's standing, it's clear that she has a few or so injuries hidden beneath her clothes, but there's a cut on her brow and some sort of wound on the back of her hand, covered by bandages and bacta.

Fox notices that last one as she presses the button on the wall that closes his door manually, when it doesn't close automatically.

Quinlan swears. "Geez, kid, did you just come from a campaign?"

"Yes, actually," says Commander Skywalker. "It wasn't an easy one."

"You couldn't have, oh, I dunno, gone to your quarters at the Temple and rest first?"

She makes a face like Quinlan is the weird one. "No. This is more important."

Quinlan doesn't reply for a moment. Just stares at the teenager and the stubborn tilt of her chin that practically screams she's not backing down anytime soon, even to a non-Force user.

Another reason she probably gets along with his siblings. They're all stubborn pieces of fodder.

Quinlan sighs. "Yeah, I know, squirt. But I'm staying, and when you're done here I'm taking you back to the Temple. Sith-hells, where even is Windu? Why isn't he here?"

"He's debriefing with the Council and the Chancellor, right now."

"Ah," he says. “Don’t blame you for coming here, then.”

"Commander Skywalker," Fox finally gets a chance to speak. "Here to commandeer my office and meditate in the corner again?"

She smiles kindly. "No, not this time. But if you want me to stop that, I will."

Fox almost raises an eyebrow in disbelief, but stops when he remembers his bucket isn't on his head. "It's all right. I don't mind it, too much," he says. As if he could say no if it wasn't. "Vos, here, was just telling me you had a question."

Her eyes cut over to Quinlan before staying on Fox. She begins to fold her hands in front of her, but then must have registered the fact she doesn’t have on her usual Jedi cloak, and opts for folding them behind her back. Akin to a soldier at ease.

Fox keeps his face blank as he thinks: oh – she's nervous. But what about?

Commander Skywalker clears her throat. "So. The other day – or, uh. Well, it's closer to half a month ago, I think. Anyway, I was with Pat to help them bring in a shipment of general medical supplies when they told me that the Guard doesn't get as much as they should."

Fox can’t hold back his brows from furrowing together. Where is the kid going with this? "And if I say we do get enough and Pat was just being dramatic?" he asks, because he's not about to have this turn into some pity thing.

"Then I will say I know that you're lying," she says. Just like that. No hesitation. Straight to the point, and blunt, and that stubborn chin tilt is back and aimed at him, this time.

It surprises him so much that it no doubt shows on his face.

"My friend, Elvira, has done the math. She's figured out how much supplies of medicine, bacta, and rations each battalion and legion needs. The ones out in field have enough, or just so. The Coruscant Guard gets less than a regular sized battalion, which is absurd because you are one of the largest legions and you're on Coruscant, so it shouldn't be too hard to give you the right amount of supplies, but instead you get less because apparently the Senate thinks nothing bad happens here to you guys.

"Protests here get violent – not always, but enough where it's not a surprise when one of your siblings get hurt doing their job protecting Coruscant. The criminal underworld on this planet isn't exactly a walk in the park. The Senate Building is regularly attacked, along with the senators themselves, and you and your siblings are the ones taking the fire, protecting everyone. It's a daily thing. I would bet my right arm that you rarely get leave, and the people in charge of you suck – the Chancellor included.

"If anything, the Coruscant Guard should be getting at least more supplies than a regular sized legion. You don't. It's... Its not fair."

The impassioned speech is half rant, half facts, wrapped around a veiled sense of frustration and anger and something else Fox can’t quite decipher. Commander Skywalker had looked away by the end. Her eyes cut to the side away from him and Quinlan, face tilted in the same direction a little bit, with furrowed brows and an expression that once again tells Fox she is angry but trying to stay calm.

Fox gets the impression, now, that this only isn't a delicate conversation for himself but for her as well. Unwillingly, his eyes fall to her neck, which bears scars reminiscent of a shock collar, or something similar, that aren't more than a year old, at least. They're usually hidden by a shirt with a longer neckline, or somewhat covered by her cloak. This isn't the first time he's noticing them, but is the first time he's gotten a good look.

It has Fox's first instinct to snap at the girl that this isn't her business to fall away.

He looks away before she notices, and gathers his thoughts together.

"I doubt you're saying all of this just to say it," Fox says. Then, with a subtle steadying breath, "You are not wrong. We don't...get as much of the things we need as we should. But we manage. We have to."

"Well, you shouldn't have to," she says hotly.

He silently agrees.

Commander Skywalker takes in a calming breath, and finally turns her head so she's facing him again. The heated anger has diminished somewhat from her eyes, but it's still there. Her tone, though, is back to being hesitant and nervous when she speaks again, "I... I have a plan. To get you and your siblings more supplies. But I won't do it if you don't want me to. It involves going behind the Senate's backs, so it's likely on the illegal side of things. But, like I said, it won't happen without your approval. It's your choice."

It's your choice.

Fox doesn't think he's heard those words uttered to him before. It kind of makes his brain malfunction for a second.

His choice. His siblings' choice.

"...I need to think about it."

+++

"You're joking," Thorn says, later that night at 79's after Fox updates him and the other Corrie Commanders on what happened. They only have a few hours of time off before they need to high-tail it back to their job.

"I'm not."

"Holy kriff."

"Why?" Stone questions. "I mean. I know she's a nice Jedi shiny and all, so it doesn't surprise me, to an extent, but what does she get out of it?"

"She's a Jedi," Thire says. "They're selfless, or that's what others say. She's not expecting anything in return."

Fox stays quiet as they continue to talk. A few minutes later, he's getting up and stalking the bar for 187th's newest Commander and battalion's medic. Ten minutes later, he's back at the shared table with Spite and Stitch in tow. He takes his original seat back beside Stone but Stitch shoves at them so he can have room to sit, while Spite squeezes in the booth on the other side with Thorn and Thire.

"She told you, I'm guessing," is Spite's first words after getting kidnapped from his own group – Mayhem and Knuckles, while trying to simultaneously drag Bitty away from the area of the bar with alcoholic drinks, stare at them in confusion and suspicion.

"Yes. Why does she want to help?" It's not so much a question as it is a demand.

Stitch rolls his eyes.

Thire says, "Need I repeat: she's a Jedi."

"You didn't ask her that yourself?" asks Stitch.

"No," Fox admits. "Getting told I actually have a choice for once sort of..." He waves a hand in the air, still a bit flabbergasted.

"Broke your brain?" Spite suggests.

"The most choice we have is whether or not we choose to paint our armor. Having the choice to say yes or no to more supplies, illegally acquired or not, is something else."

"I'm leaning towards 'no', honestly," Thorn admits. "What if the plan, whatever it is, fails? We'll be the ones taking the heat of it. And how can we know she's trustworthy? This is a kid we're talking about. A shiny, basically."

“Our Command’ika would never put you guys in trouble intentionally,” Spite says – a little defensively, Fox notices.

“I know that, but she’s still a shiny.” He gestures over to where Mayhem is carrying out Bitty on his shoulder, Knuckles laughing as the kid tries to get out of the other’s hold. “They don’t make the smartest decisions.”

“What about helping you guys is stupid?”

“Maybe the sneaking behind the Senate’s backs part,” Stone whispers intently, leaning forward so they can hear. “We work directly with the Chancellor. How the kriff is this going to get passed him?”

“If anyone can do it, it’s the Jedi!” Spite whispers just as intense. “She isn’t planning on doing this by herself – she has spoken with me, and General Windu, Kenobi, Skywalker, and Koon and their commanders. They all want to help.”

Thire runs a hand over his head. “I will admit, I want to say yes, but… I’m worried there’s a catch.”

“There isn’t one,” Stitch speaks up for the first time. Everyone looks at him. “Yes, she is a Jedi shiny, and because of that she is naturally compelled to help anyone and everyone without fault. But that isn’t the only reason for her. I won’t tell you, because it’s her choice to tell you guys and I won’t be the one to tell it in her place, but please trust me when I say she only has you and the rest of our vod’e in the Guard in her best interest.”

“And the others?” asks Fox.

“They just care,” answers Spite. “It’s hard to explain, and to accept. Even I’m still baffled by how much General Windu cares for every single one of us in the battalion. But I trust him and Commander Skywalker with my life, and the lives of our vod’e who are stationed under them, as well.”

Stitch nods. “If it came down it, I would put my trust in the other Generals as well, because General Windu trusts them and I trust him.”

Silence falls over the table.

Fox still needs to think about it.

+++

It takes another few days, but when Zariza gets told by Bitty that Fox wants to speak with her after one of her padawan tests, she hurries over as fast as she can, dragging Bitty with her. They make it there in record time.

Fox is sitting at his desk with his helmet off, looking worn and exhausted as always. Stacks of holopads and flimsiwork cover his desk, and she spots a stack of at least three used throw away caf cups. He has a fourth in one hand and a stylus for the ‘pad he’s working on in the other.

She’s fully expecting him to decline the offer. So, after pleasantries and polite greetings when they enter Fox’s office, she isn’t caught off guard when he tells them, “I can’t say yes to your offer.”

There’s still a little disappointment in her, though. “Oh,” she says. “That– I understand.”

“What? But Fox–” Bitty starts.

Fox shakes his head. Setting down the stylus and caf, he leans forward with intent. “No, I don’t think you do,” he interrupts. “Commander. Bitty. Listen to what I’m saying. I can’t say yes.”

Bitty scowls at his brother. “Yes, we get that–”

It clicks for Zariza immediately, right then. Oh. She knows what is happening.

“I understand,” she says, less disappointed and more, well, understanding. “That’s okay.”

Bitty rounds on her. “What? But all the planning we did!” He looks at Fox imploringly. “Don’t you want help, Fox?”

Fox sighs. “Bitty, please tell me your brain isn’t as small as your body.”

“Hey! I’m average height for a clone, you shabuir.”

The man rolls his eyes.

“Bitty, it’s okay,” Zariza says. “He can’t say yes. That’s fine.”

“Then why can’t he just say…” The heat in his eyes dwindle as he trails off, and widen in realization. “Oh.”

Zariza faces the other Commander. “Thank you for giving me your answer, Fox. We will respect your wishes.”

“That’s all I ask, Commander,” he says. “Now leave. I have flimsiwork to do, and the other Corrie commanders distract me enough as is.”

+++

Zariza races outside to the Temple speeder she might have highjacked. And no, she does not have a license for one yet. Climbing into the driver’s side, she starts the speeder, and Bitty gets into the passenger side.

“So, to be make sure I understand: we are still helping the Corries,” Bitty says as the engine starts.

She grins wide. “Yep! Let’s go tell the others.”

He nods. “Okay. But please don’t speed, I don’t want to get arrest—” he gets cut off by his own yelp as Zariza presses her foot in the gas.

“Sorry!” she shouts, not sounding an ounce apologetic as she smirks. “Foot slipped.”

Bitty half heartedly glares at her. “You’re lucky I like you.”

+++

“Fox can’t say yes because he works so close with Chancellor, because if he did say yes and Chancellor Palpatine found out, then that would be bad for everyone but extra bad for Fox. But Fox isn’t saying yes, but he also isn’t saying no, which in a round about means that he is giving us the green light to help the Corrie Guards out without actually saying yes. Make sense?”

Pytir and Ahsoka, the only two who were planet side because Elvira and Plo Koon are out with their legion again, stare at Zariza as they process her words.

“Yeah, it took me a second to realize what he was doing,” Bitty admits from Zariza’s side.

“Slaves did this all the time,” she tells them. “Affirm something in a way that sounds like you’re saying no but aren’t, to avoid trouble from masters, or whoever else is in charge.”

Bitty nods. “My vod’e do it back on Kamino, too.”

Pytir, a young pantoran boy and Obi-Wan’s newest padawan, asks, “Like probable deniability?”

“Plausible deniability,” Zariza kindly corrects, “but yes, exactly.”

“So if the Chancellor does find out and asks Fox about it, he’s not going to get in trouble,” Ahsoka says. “That’s so smart!”

“And that means the others can’t know,” Bitty says, looking at them all. Worry is starting to etch into his features. “I want to help my vod’e, but I don’t want to be the reason Chancellor Palpatine sends off the Corries for decommissioning.”

“Then we don’t let anyone else find out,” says Pytir.

+++

Pat doesn’t notice the influx of supplies at first.

They just think their vod’e are finally beginning to get injured less. An extra box of bacta patches here, another package of bandages there… It’s not a lot, but he notices. And the number in left over supplies at the end of the month increases to where they have just enough instead of too little.

They ask one of the Commanders if they asked for more supplies and it got confirmed. Each one denies it. Each one sounds like they know something he doesn’t.

It isn’t until after a brutal attack on the Senate building when they start piecing things together.

The medics don’t lose their vod’e to lack of supplies or the dreaded mercy killings. They lose them to life threatening wounds and blood loss and kill shots. At one point, Pat is doing his damn best to patch up one vod before he dies, even though he knows they don’t have enough supplies to do so, but–

They do. There are enough supplies to get his vod stable. Enough to patch him up.

They even have a few extra.

…They have extra.

A knock on the med room’s door pulls Pat from inspecting the last box. No one else needs medical attention, and it’s just… Sitting there. Unused. Not needed until further notice.

Pat turns to face the door; their head medic is busy speaking to another patient. They aren’t that surprised to see the Jedi shinies and the young clone that have begun to frequent this place, but he is surprised by the medium sized boxes a few are carrying.

“Hey, Pat,” Zariza greets with a smile. “How is everything?”

“Hey, kids,” he says. “Everything is good as it can be. We lost way less men than my fellow medics and I thought we would.”

Her smile widens, and the others smile as well. “That’s great.”

Bitty holds up the box he has. “We brought some pick-me-ups,” he tells them. “Little goodie bags, or that’s what they call them.”

“They’re just bags of candy, and tiny hand held games to keep your siblings entertained a little while they’re stuck here,” Elvira explains.

“We thought you guys might appreciate it after the chaos that happened at the Senate building,” says Zariza. ‘Chaos’ is putting it lightly. “Usually these are for the younglings at the Temple after a Life Day celebration but the Council agreed you guys need something good, so… Goodies.”

There’s a stinging in Pat’s eyes, and they are wholeheartedly glad that their bucket hides their face. They don’t need a vod’ika witnessing them tear up. It’s been a very stressful twenty-four hours, okay?

“Goodies,” they echo. The kids nod.

“Aw, c’mon, Pat, you’re not gonna send them away, are you?” asks one of their vod’e a medical cot, leg wrapped in a cast and bandages around his head. “We deserve the goodies!”

They shake their head. “No, I’m not. Come on – I’ll help hand them out.”

The three of them quickly get to it, splitting up to make things go faster. The head medic makes a vaguely annoyed noise as Bitty passes him, but it gets cut off halfway when the the young clone places a little bag from the box into the medic’s hand. With the helmet on, Pat can’t see his face. He would bet, though, that there is some amount of confusion on it.

“Don’t question it,” Pat tells him as he hands out a few of the little bags as well.

“…I’m too exhausted for this,” he mutters. “Thanks, Bit’ika.”

Bitty makes a face at the name but says, “You’re welcome.”

Zariza sends him a teasing grin as she says, “Aw, Bit’ika. That’s cute.”

The teen’s face darkens. “Shut up,” he says, but there’s no heat behind it and Pat catches a smile begin to form just as he turns his back to them.

Elvira rolls her eyes with her own smile. “Zari,” the zabrak sighs.

“What?”

The two best friends stare at each other. Elvira shakes her head. “You’re hopeless.”

Zariza’s face twisted into slight offense. “What the kriff did I do?”

“Hopeless,” she repeats.

They continue like that, and Pat listens and watches and smiles to themself. The mood of the atmosphere before they came in had been low and saddened and dull. Now? The atmosphere is brighter, and even a few of Pat’s vod’e are speaking and lightly laughing along with the teenagers.

Pat walks back over to the box of extra supplies that have to be used to rest his feet. Zariza comes over a few minutes later, box half empty, and sits down too. She hands them a bag and they take it.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why we are getting a gradual influx of supplies, do you?” asks Pat.

Zariza shakes her head. “Sorry, Pat. I can’t say that I do.”

They eye her. Runs her words through their head. Then, they let out a breathy chuckle. “Okay.” Lifting the little goodie bag, they shake it a little, listening to the small candies and hand held game clacking together.

“I do know that a few members of the Council are speaking with Senator Amidala to find a way to get you more supplies – not just for medical,” she tells him. “It might take a while, but… We’re trying.”

Pat feels like crying again. They really need some sleep. They’ve been up for 48 hours straight.

“Thank you,” they say sincerely and meaningfully. “I think you’re saving more of my siblings than you realize – even with these little bags.”

“A little kindness goes a long way,” she says.

They look at her again, curious. “Is that a Jedi saying?”

“No,” she says, then corrects herself, “Well, maybe, in a way. But my mom always told me that when I was really little. We… I was born into slavery, so there wasn’t a lot of kindness to begin with, and so we did our best to be kind to each other.”

“Thank the universe for your mom,” Pat hums.

A comfortable silence falls over them. It doesn’t last long, because a conversation they had with Fox pops into their head. A question is burning at the tip of their tongue, and he just has to know the answer.

“So, is the rumor that you might have a crush on Bitty true?”

Her head whips around to look at them so fast, they immediately become concerned for her neck. “There’s a what about what?!”

Pat busts out laughing.

#star wars au #star wars fanfiction #star wars oc #commander fox #clone wars oc #coruscant guard #oc: zariza #oc: bitty #bc he makes appearances in this #take the fear that i don’t need #my writing

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selkiesbittybonanza · 1 year

Note

A bitty matchup sounds fun! I would like to see if a bitty would actually manage to live in my conditions.

The bitty would need to deal with me waking up in the morning at 5am to get things like cooking, doing work, and just basically getting ready for the day.

I like to have company so it'd be fun if they could climb or something around me while I do stuff and I ask stuff like 'Do you think people would like this?' Or 'What do you think I should do today?'. Because I'm not the greatest at making choices so I ask people to do it for me.

Need them to remind me about everything like events or a item I forgot about, it happens often. I'm most likely to need someone who can keep up with me and remind me of my limits because I sometimes over do myself and just die on the floor sad.

I'm scared of all insects, arguments, and being alone. I need a little friend for comfort, even if they can't give any, I'm okay with them just being with me.

Either I'm loud or calm and collected, it depends on the person. If they seem timid, introverted, shy, and/or delicate I will be relaxed and leveled down. If they seem Extroverted, hyper, confident, and/or funny then it's the opposite. If they are both then I'm giving them a custom made personality of mine as I get to know them. I don't have a real personality, I have to make one up.

I love your bio, it gave me a lot to work with:

Puffs: Puffs are early risers and love cooking, especially baking! They can also be opinionated little noodles so don’t worry about trying to get them to sound off! They love to be useful so being your reminder buddy would make them feel proud! They like to keep busy but can slow down for cuddles.

Marvels: Marvels are another early rising bitty and are cuddle bugs to boot! They’d be very interested in learning your routine and help on any way you’ll allow! They have good memories and will be happy to help you remember anything you’ve forgotten.

Nebula: Nebulas are based on the Green Tree Python, who live in the canopy of trees, and are, therefore, excellent climbers. They also love curling around their adopters’ neck like a “boa”. It’ll take them awhile to get used to your schedule but once they do they’ll happily join you in the kitchen. They’re cheeky, so make sure they aren’t just saying “uh-huh” to everything you say!

#bittybones #lamia bitty #ampithere bittys #puff lamia bitty #nebula lamia bity #marvel ampithere bitty #bitty matchup

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sio-writes · 2 years

Text

A Botanist’s Guide - Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Chapter 1

Cassie

The walk to the greenhouse is a long one compared to the lab, one I didn't time correctly, and now I'm jogging down the dirt path in the morning sun.

Kri is already waiting outside, exoskeleton shimmering in the light, and I offer him a short wave.

"Sorry," I say out of habit, pressing my hand to the bio-scanner on the door. "Mandatory exercise went a little over."

Kri looks me up and down, a slow movement of his eyes, and I blush. Usually for workouts I just wear sweats and an oversized shirt, but I haven't done laundry in a hot minute, so I had to dig out old clothes. Today I'm in bright orange leggings and a yellow top over a black sports bra. I felt like a traffic cone walking out of my apartment this morning, but it was all I had. And the way Kri is staring at me makes my stomach do flips.

I fold my arms over my chest self-consciously and look to the side, hating how I shrank down. "Is there a problem?"

In my peripherie, I see Kri start, like I pulled him out of his thoughts. His wings do that flutter thing and he clears his throat.

"Not at all, please," and he gestures into the greenhouse.

Walking in, I frown to myself. He's definitely uncomfortable, so this outfit is a no-go from now on. I'll just have to bring a change of clothes whenever we come in from the gym.

I'm not tiny like Jillie, or made of muscle like Diana. There's places on me that're soft, that bulge out or jiggle when I move. Even the strict diet and exercise routines given by NASA only dropped me a few pounds before everything evened out. I was never self conscious about my weight growing up, my parents never made me feel bad about it, so most of my adult life I had a neutral stance on my body.

Stephen was the one that undid all that.

I don't like thinking about it-- the comments on my weight, the sideways glances whenever I ate, the condescension during exercise. It was hell, and I knew it was hell, but I'd thought he'd had my best interests at heart. I thought it was some dumb guy way of caring about me. Turned out to be a push to mold me into something I wasn't. I still feel stupid remembering it.

Kri walks past me without another word, and I fight off a wave of disappointment.

A part of me, a small, itty-bitty, teensy tiny part…wanted him to notice. Despite looking like a stripe on a runway, this is a good fit. I actually felt pretty hot walking out this morning. I was a traffic cone but, like, a sexy one. Granted, that diminished when I got sweaty and disgusting, but I still flipped my hair over my shoulders and felt like the baddest bitch at the Outpost. I felt confident, and that's supposed to be sexy, right? I'd thought maybe Kri tells me I look nice with my hair tied back, or notes the bright colors look good with my skin tone. Hell, I'd take a quip about not being dressed professionally.

But I got nothing.

I want to know what Kri thinks of me-- if he thinks of me at all. Does his culture value a specific body type? Do I look weird only having two arms, legs with a single knee joint? Ento don't hold a lot of body fat, does my excess disgust him?

I shake my head at myself. Why do I even care what he thinks? I've known him for a month. I shouldn't care what anyone thinks. "Especially a guy," as Jillie would say.

I wouldn't even consider him a close friend. A close coworker, maybe.

I sigh heavily, my breath pushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. Whatever.

I set my bag on one of the long tables running the wall of the greenhouse, willing my mind to switch gears. I need to focus on the plants, not my moderately sexy ass in these leggings. I was being ridiculous. Kri is all business, and I shouldn't have expected any different.

It takes a few minutes to organize all my crap and get my laptop started, and I've yet to hear any scratching coming from Kri. Usually he starts right away, like an intern taking minutes at a meeting, but it's oddly silent.

I set out the supplies to test the water, cringing at the heavy purifying solution needed for the hose in the greenhouse. The solution is full of chemicals and I know every single one, but I'm worried how it's going to affect the plants. The water out here comes from the outpost, and it's like city water: Hard, unfiltered, and full of bacteria. It'll take twice as long to filter since we have to do it twice, and we still have to take pictures of every single plant.

Resisting the urge to glance behind me, I open up my report document and jot down my notes. I really would like Kri's help again today. Like yesterday, there's a lot to do and I'm worried about getting overwhelmed. On top of the daily watering and documenting, I need to finalize all my notes for the milestone and compile it all into a report that I've been putting off writing for way too long now.

I've never been good at reports. When I was in school I tried my best to avoid them, letting my more creatively inclined peers write to their hearts' content. When it got to my dissertation I just jotted down the facts and their logical conclusions. Now, on Summanus, I'd normally let Jillie write them for me. Not that I forced her, she loves to write, but she's not here to help right now.

"So Kri," I say to my computer screen, looking resolutely at my own reflection in the monitor.

His deep voice rings out, "Yes?"

I turn in my chair, palms pressed together, mouth open to speak, but I pause.

Kri is checking over the plants again, looking into Dr. Markesh's hybrids. He's crouched on the floor, examining one of the larger pots, gently pressing his fingers into the soil to see if it needs water. Every few seconds his antennae twitch and he tilts his head to one side or the other, and he makes a soft trilling sound. Is that just a noise he makes or is he speaking in his language again?

"Uh," I say very eloquently.

Kri notices me looking and jumps up, banging his head on the table. The impact rattles everything and I hold back a laugh behind my hand.

I lean forward over the center table to take a look at him, unable to keep the smile out of my voice. "You alright?"

"Fine," he bites out. Standing, I hold back a grin at him rubbing the back of his head, hearing more than seeing his wings flutter for the second time this morning. It makes me wonder if the fluttering could mean more than one thing. It definitely means "uncomfortable," but what else?

"Did you need something?" he asks.

I stick out my lower lip and give him my best Totally Not Asking For Help face. "There's a lot to do."

Kri pauses to look at me, eyes wide. A moment passes, and another, like he's processing what I just said.

"Nevermind," I say quickly and turning back around, busying my hands with my stuff, hoping my awkwardness doesn't look too obvious.

"Dr. Rowland," Kri starts, and I wave him off nervously.

"Cassie," I say, still trying to look busy and quickly running out of things to straighten on my desk. "I told you, just call me Cassie."

"Cassie," Kri says, voice firm, and I wrench my gaze from my computer to him.

"Do you require assistance," he says, more a statement than a question.

After a long moment, I nod, avoiding his intense stare.

Sighing, Kri walks over, stopping next to my chair. I instantly feel bad for asking him to help again.

"Sorry," I say automatically. I shouldn't have asked. I should've been able to do this myself.

"Why?" Kri asks, picking up the test tubes and litmus solution.

I shrink down into my chair. "I bothered you."

Kri chuckles, and I decide I like the sound. "If you truly bothered me, I would be sure to tell you."

Relief washes through me like water. "I believe you."

"Good."

***

Glaring at the computer screen doesn't actually write my report for me, but it helps me feel better. It's been this stupid little stare-off for at least ten minutes now, and I'm losing. I have no idea where to start, all I can see are the bullet points I made as an outline.

Filtered water

Planted seeds

Watered plants

Put samples in greenhouse

Watered again

I rub my hands across my face. This isn't a report, let alone a scientific paper that needs to have sections and a timeline. All my finished reports have been over ten pages long, even longer with bigger experiments like this one. I'm never gonna write this before the milestone is due, and I'm not gonna have anything to show for it.

I glance to the side, watching in the reflection Kri watering the individual samples. Would he write my report for me?

I huff out a laugh, and shake my head. Definitely not.

He's going out on a limb even helping me like this. I appreciate the hell out of it, but I know not to expect it once Jillie comes back. He never brought it up, but interfering like this puts his job on the line. He's taking a huge risk just watering the samples. Something about messing with the efficiency. But he's never brought it up, not once.

Will he be back to his grouchy self once everything settles? Will he go back to being quiet? I'd rather have him making comments about my experiment than the quiet that came after. Although, he did mention he was so quiet because he didn't know how to talk to me.

Well, now he does, so what does that mean now? Will Jillie, Kri, and me be friends now?

I rub my hands over my face again. I need to…do something else.

Standing from my chair, I walk over to my temporary assistant and lean over until I'm sure he can see me. I feign nonchalance and ask, "Watcha doin'?"

Kri gives me a suspicious sidelong glance, hands not stopping in their task. "Watering the samples, as you directed."

"And how's that goin'?"

Kri sighs. "I'll be running out of water soon, so I will need to--" he levels a glare my way. "This is your experiment, aren't you aware of the particulars?"

"Yeah," I admit. "I'm just bored."

He blinks slowly at me. "Incorrect. You simply don't want to be at the computer. You've been breathing heavily for the past fifteen minutes."

I grimace. "I was sighing."

"That report is tantamount to your experiment's success," Kri says, continuing to water the samples. They look so small in their little planter homes. Pretty soon--if I don't get axed-- we'll have to move everything outside and hope the Summanian water doesn't kill them.

I reach for the watering container in Kri's hands. "Here, I'll do that."

He immediately pulls away and looks down at me. "You have an assignment to do."

I cross my arms over my chest. "Yeah but you just said: I don't wanna do it right now." I reach for the container again, and Kri holds it over his head, water sloshing on the floor.

"No," he says, eyes narrowing, hands coming to rest on my shoulders and keeping me back.

His hands on my shoulders only spur me on and I reach out again for the water. "Come on, Kri, I need a break."

"You typed your name and the experiment's title," he says, taking a step back. "That hardly constitutes a break."

I step forward, annoyed. "Give me the damned water."

Kri shakes his head, taking another step back.

On instinct I take another step forward, but my foot lands on a puddle of water and slides out from under me.

The worlds tilts backwards and I close my eyes in anticipation of my head hitting the ground. Instead, I feel a strong arm around my back, another pulling my arm, and I open my eyes.

Kri is less than two inches away from my face.

This close, I'm mystified. I can see my reflection in the inky blackness of his eyes, pinched with concern. I can trace the lines of the plates on his face, see the small flecks of colors that permeate his exoskeleton even in such small pieces. His breath puffs against my face, warm like the rest of him. I want to run my hands over his face, feel where the dark skin gives way to plating.

My heart lurches on my chest. That's not a good thought. I imagine cutting that thought off like nipping a rose bush. Boop, gone.

"Are you alright?" He asks, and I'm barely registering that he's standing us up, righting my feet underneath me.

"Huh?" I ask, brain too scrambled to give any other reply.

"I asked if--"

"Yes!" I say a little too loudly, brain catching up with my ears. "Yes, I'm good."

Kri takes a step back, wings fluttering for a long moment before he clamps them down with one hand.

My jaw tenses, and the silence makes me wish I'd fallen and been knocked out instead. "Thank you," I force out.

"Of course," he says, voice stiff. It's like he's frozen

Another horribly awkward silence, and I'm scrambling for anything to do.

"I'm gonna, uh, start something."

Kri seems to shake awake, and nods like he's feeling just as awkward as I am. "Right."

***

I decide my thing to do will be documenting. Taking pictures is an easy, mindless task. It'll allow me to process my thoughts and get some work done.

I start with the oldest sample, looking for any sign of green and finding none, so I move onto the next one, my thoughts invading like a storm cloud on a summer afternoon. It's best to just let them happen, pushing back bad thoughts only makes them stronger, so I let them flow.

Kri is nice to me, he helps me, he doesn't complain if I ask him to do something again. He's pretty to look at I'll admit, and he's got that deep, soothing voice. He's smart, a good coworker, and he actually listens to what I have to say.

My mind helpfully supplies the image of us out of the lab, holding hands and talking as we walk down the street. It's a nice image--his hand is warm, we're happy together, everything seems great. It's literally a fantasy so of course Jillie walks up and says hi, there's a puppy there as a Christmas gift and-- okay, now my mind is getting out of control. I'm getting ahead of myself.

Focus, or at least, reign it in.

Back to Kri. Yes he's nice, yes he's smart, yes he listens, but am I just reading into things that aren't there? Is this just my touch-starved brain looking for the smallest sign of affection? He saved me from a concussion earlier, but so would anyone if they had arms that long and toned. He also has long legs. Does he work out? It looks like he does. He's got a nice smile too. He stopped me from falling like it was no problem, and with all the sample pallets he carried in he's definitely strong; I wonder if he could pick me up and--

No. Stop that. Stop that right now, Cassie.

I stop my pictures, standing up straight and looking into the middle distance.

Oh god, do I have feelings for my coworker? And why aren't there any damn plants?!

I take another stupid picture of a stupid pot of dirt and frown, a displeased noise escaping my throat.

"Is all well?" Kri asks behind me.

"There's no plants," I say with a pout.

Kri chuckles. "It's only been a few days."

"I know," I say like a petulant child. "But I want plants damn it!" They should've been here by now. At least something breaking the soil. I've done everything right! How could it have gone wrong?

I take a few more pictures, sighing dramatically through my nose as I do. I know the last samples were only planted a few days ago, but I'm getting nervous. The first samples were planted nearly a week ago, and there's still nothing. If nothing grows, then I'll have nothing to show for the milestone. If I can't pass the milestone, the experiment could be scrapped. And if the experiment is scrapped, I lose my lab.

The thought of losing my lab has tears pricking at the back of my eyes. My nose tingles and I sniff loudly, willing my body with everything I have not to cry. God, that would be humiliating. Crying at work? And in front of Kri? I just got the guy to tolerate my presence, now I'm blubbering in front of him.

Standing straight, my current mission shifts from photography to keeping it the fuck together. I can't lose my lab--I won't lose my lab, damn it. There's too much at stake. Besides, what would I do after losing it anyways? Go back to Earth? Abandon Summanus?

I'd never see Kri again.

There's nothing for me back on Earth. My parents live on the Moon Colony, with their perfect little biosphere and three dogs and low-gravity golf. I guess I could go live with them, but that would be pathetic, wouldn't it? Living with my parents at 30 years old? On the Moon? What's on the Moon anyway? A whole lot of dust. I can't live on the Moon. I can't go back to Earth. I'd have to start over. I'd have to go apartment hunting again.

I don't realize I'm hyperventilating until I feel a palm on my shoulder.

"Cassie," Kri's voice is firm behind me.

If I turn around to face him I'm going to start crying. I settle for the next best option: Turning away and crying.

"I'm gonna lose my lab," I whine, tears pitching my voice an octave up. "There's no plants and I'm gonna have to live on the moon."

"Wh…What?"

A sob breaks through and it's like the floodgates have opened. I know I sound ridiculous, I know it doesn't make any sense. But the tears won't stop coming, my shoulders won't stop shaking. I hate this, I hate this so much. If I could just control my emotions I bet I wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

I sniff loudly, wiping the tears off my face when I feel arms wrap around my shoulders and waist.

"You seem overwhelmed," Kri says, head resting on top of mine. He strokes my arms with his hands in slow, languid movements. "Breathe with me."

I hiccup a defeated laugh. It's come to this? Being treated like a child?

"Try," Kri insists, and I feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back. His arms around me feel like a cage, so I swallow my pride and spin around. My face is tucked into his chest, and after another moment of sniffling, I try to match his breathing. In, then out. One more. Then another. All with Kri's hands against my back and shoulders, rubbing slowly in up and down motions.

"Very good," Kri soothes, head pressing into my hair.

The world comes back to me in pieces.. First, I'm a mess; tears smeared everywhere, snot on my face, I probably didn't look too great.

Using my shirt to clean my face, Kri steps back to allow me some room. I instantly miss the warmth of his arms and chest, and suppress a shiver.

"Feeling better?"

In a brief moment of honesty, I shake my head. I mostly just feel caught in a fog, my thoughts too heavy to lift. I could go for a nice, long, nap under my desk.

Kri hums, thinking, then looks to me. "Want to see something interesting?"

***

Following Kri down the path as he weaves between buildings has me breathing like I'm running a marathon. Every so often he looks back, and every time he does, I'm further behind. I can't help that his legs are so much longer than mine.

"Slow down!" I say, huffing along. My legs were already sore from the boxing-- that digital bitch had me doing squats for ten minutes--it's a chore to keep up.

Kri looks back at me nearly thirty feet behind and he smiles.

"Apologies," he says. "I am eager to show you. I feel you will appreciate this."

We stop at a small building nestled in the grid of the inner labs. It's got cement walls and a glass roof, and the glass is tinted.

I rest my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath as he punches in the code to open the door.

The door slides open and I stumble inside. The lights turn on through some motion sensor, and I look around in awe. It's a large rectangular lab, with a table on the right side. There's filters and robotics and all sorts of technology strewn all over the table, but taking up the majority of the space is a massive tank of water. It's clear on the front to see inside, and on top of the tank are several species of Summanian plants.

I turn to Kri, who's leaning on the wall with all his arms crossed.

"What is this?" I ask.

He smiles, and I notice it's lopsided. "The experiment of a friend."

I snicker. "You have friends?"

Kri looks at me, offended. "We could easily go back to your greenhouse and look at that report."

I quickly turn to the large tank. "So what is this? Hydroponics?"

I hear Kri shuffling behind me, and suddenly the room goes dark. "I believe that is the human word for it. Using animals to grow plants?"

"That's the one." I tap on the tank with my index finger, watching the tiny creatures inside move. They look like a cross between a fish and a porcupine pulled out of the Mariana Trench. They're about as long as my forearm, completely white with milky eyes. They look awkward, swimming with so many quills, and the motion makes me smile. I realize why Kri turned the light off when the quills along their body start flashing and changing colors. The room isn't completely dark, there's lights from the computers and technology along the walls, but it's dark enough that the tank lights up like a Christmas tree.

I bend down to press my face to the glass. "These guys are cool as hell. I've never seen fish like this."

"They're common in rivers," Kri says.

A fish swims up to my finger, checking it out before darting away. "I've never been off the Outpost before."

Kri makes a clicking noise, one I haven't heard before, then says, "I see."

It's quiet for a moment while I watch the fish swim by. The tank they're in is big, but it still filters water like crazy; I'd be surprised if there wasn't a current in there. It seems like there's only the one type of fish, but I enjoy watching them dart in and out of view, their little quills lighting up the interior of the tank. I could see my parents having one of these in their home back on Earth. Growing up, my parents kept tropical fish in these huge tanks that ran along an entire wall. I could stare at them for hours, and I'd often do my homework in front of the glass.

Kri's still standing behind me, by the doorway, letting me watch the fish. I definitely needed the break, even if it's just for a few minutes. I also appreciate him not talking to fill space. It lets me think, process what my brain is trying to churn out. Jillie likes to talk and usually I don't mind, but sometimes it's too much. I love Jillie to death, but I also love the peace and quiet.

Shame wells up in my throat at my breakdown from earlier. I haven't hyperventilated since high school when I got stood up at the prom, but everything felt like it was crashing down around me. Jillie calls me a control freak, but I don't know any other way to live. It's just a part of my existence.

But maybe I need to learn to let go of some of that. Maybe it would make my life easier.

Something catches my eye in the dark reflection, and I spin on my heel. "You glow?!"

Before my very eyes, Kri is glowing. Just like the fish. It's pale blue, running all over his body in channels; down his arms, over his torso and legs, all the way down to his feet.

Kri tilts his head. "Did you not know that?"

"I've never seen you in the dark!" I walk up to him, covering the distance in a few steps, and grab one of his hands. "That's so cool! Humans don't glow at all."

"I'm aware." Kri's wings twitch as I run my finger over one of the channels on his arm, and he clears his throat. "All ento have bioluminescent channels."

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that, but I'd never seen it in person. I thought it was only for certain reactions, but maybe it's just an all over thing. I don't get out much, and when I do it's with other humans. Our pack mentality makes us group together, and I was never a socialite anyway.

I flip Kri's hand over and run my fingers over another channel, fascinated as it lights up underneath my touch.

"This is gorgeous," I mutter, wishing I had a camera. The glow intensifies wherever I touch it, like some kind of reaction underneath the skin. It diffuses out, spreads, and even warms under my touch.

"You think so? It's nothing special," Kri says quietly.

I trace all the way to the crook of his elbow, then back down again, like a tiny shooting star following my index finger. It affects the channels parallel to it as well, lighting up his whole arm when I press down into the skin. And his skin is so warm and soft, it feels like my skin if I actually bothered to moisturize. It's dark, nearly black, and I feel the faintest trace of veins underneath.

Anxiety bubbles away in my chest, telling me to stop, that I can't have this, but I want to explore. Kri hasn't said anything, his wings haven't fluttered at all, so I keep touching, running my fingers over his skin, digging in with the pad of my thumb, pulling reactions out of the channels.

"Do you feel that?" My voice is barely a whisper.

He replies just as quietly, "Of course I do."

I drag my fingers up towards his elbow and continue over his arm. The skin stretches over muscle here, and I'm glad the room is dark. I'm sure I'm red as a beet right now, but I've never gotten this chance before, and I don't know if I ever will again. Kri's so quiet, so patient. It makes me wonder if he'd be like this in other aspects of life.

Whenever Stephen and I slept together, it was rushed, done with a singular goal in mind. It was never just for the fun of it, always so rough. I sigh through my nose as I indulgently squeeze Kri's bicep and watch the channels light up at my touch. Kri wouldn't be like that, callous and uncaring, he'd be gentle, but firm, taking his time and--

Wow, okay, definitely glad the room is dark.

My fingers trail over his shoulder, up to the chinintous plating that covers the rest of his body. I thought it'd be hard, brittle, like the exoskeleton on a bug, but it's matte and smooth, feeling like velvet under my fingers.

Part of me wants to keep touching, to explore all that he'll let me. But another part of me is screaming that I need to stop. The part that wants to keep going wins out.

So my fingers follow a path over where a collarbone would be, and then Kri gently grabs my hand and pulls it away. A flash of panic overcomes me, telling me I screwed up, this is it, he's going to yell at me.

Instead, Kri brings my hand up to his face, studying it with those huge eyes. His thumb runs over my palm, a light, comforting touch, and then he releases my hand and crosses his arms over his broad chest.

"We need to get back to work," he says, and I swear his voice is deeper.

The statement dispels whatever moment we may have been having, and my brain quickly takes stock of the situation. I'm at fucking work. I was feeling up my coworker--at fucking work!

"Right," I squeak--squeak!--out, then push past him to get to the door. The sunlight floods in and I'm blinded for a few seconds before my eyes adjust, and the world floods back in with it. Both humans and entos traveling back and forth along the pathway, and I fucking groped my coworker. On the clock!

It takes a second for Kri to follow me out, and he gestures with one hand. "You go back, I will lock the door."

"Right," I say, practically sprinting back towards the greenhouse.

I'm fired. I'm so fucking fired.

#A Botanist's Guide #terato #monster romance #monster writing #exo writing #exophilia #exophilia writing #just barely missed the sunday mark #but i hope i made it up by having an actual romantic moment #feedback is welcome!

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powderkiwi · 1 year

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I re watched Avatar The last Airbender today, yes the much maligned movie and tbh I still kind of like it. I know and understand that it does not meet the very high standards that ATLA fans of the original animated series have, it’s bitty, disjointed and rather all over the place, but I still like the performances given by some of the young cast. Ok I can hear the tufts of hair being pulled out at the roots by the fans as I’m typing this, but young actors generally are guided and steered by the director. They generally don’t feel they have the right to challenge directors or script writers, in this case the same person when they think something is dumb, they just try and meet the expectations of their elders.

The young boy who plays Aang, Noah Ringer.. he’s was and still is an amazing athlete, but he seemed to get allot of unwarranted flack for just not being, well ethnic enough and that he was too serious, even wooden. I think if we look carefully at the narrative from even the animated series and examine the things he’s gone through, i think he would be pretty serious, confused, distraught and angry. In this respect I think Noah does this really well.

So what’s happened to the wee laddie then?

You run away when you’re told your the Avatar and that you are responsible for keeping balance in the world, between the four nations. Hmm Not much pressure there for a 12 year old.

When you wake up you find out you’ve been asleep for a 100 years and then get captured by the Fire Nation.

You next found out that your entire nation has been wiped from the face of the earth, just because you feel you didn’t want the responsibility and that you could never have a family.

Yeah… he’s not really going to be in a great head space, Guilt, Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, along with Shame, Anger and fear would be coursing through this young boys body and mind.

But as the Joker would say “why so serious?”

I also thought Dev Patel was very good in his role, as Zuko, he showed the anarchic, panicked son under pressure to find the Avatar for the Fire Nation to regain his honour.

Yes he had some really bad dialogue.. but again he didn’t write the script…

I thought the CG Effects were pretty good, I’m not so sure about the choreographed bending moves tbh in some of the scenes, especially with the Earth Benders, but all in all I thought it was ok.

M.Night Shyamalan needs to wear the way this was received, he was really taking on a poison chalice and was never going to be able to meet the expectations of the Fan base.

In the end he seemed to disappear into his own world and tried to make something that was beautiful to look at,but lacked the depth of story and also lost a lot of the charm that the series possessed.

I said I enjoyed the film, perhaps because I can fill in the blanks a bit because I’ve watched the animated series and can fill in the blanks myself.. or gaps.. well cazems in some cases.

One thing I will say is we can’t blame the cast, especially the young actors for not matching the expectations of the fans or the characters in the animated series, for their lack of ethnicity or the emotional tack that the live action film tried to take. We should remember that side of the animated series is pretty surface deep at best, with a lot of tragedy just laughed off, or immediately forgotten.

The Last Airbender’s narrative deals with a lot of very serious issues, that placed within the human world ie live action would be seen as tragic, testing and difficult… Genocide, being the chosen one…(Sorry Starwars, Harry Potter and of course the Bible) Personal loss and huge unfathononable responsibilities. The New Netflix series will need to address these as well, although they will hopefully have allot more time to dig into these characters during the series, to provide them with depth and personality, that was lacking from the film,

After all if we don’t care about the characters in any book, film, tv or animated series, you won’t become emotionally invested in them. We need to care about what happens to them, why they behave the way they do, what decisions they make, who their friends and indeed enemy’s are..what happens next?

I guess this is why so many people were disappointed with the film, because they were exactly that with the animated series.. if you love something that much, you will always feel some sort of disappointment when you compare it to any other version of the same thing.

#atla #the last airbender netflix #avatar the last airbender #Noah ringer

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andichoseyou · 2 years

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🐼

Hi friends! Oh it's weird to not press anon! How do you like my blog? I've been having fun with it! I chose a panda today because did you know that 2 baby pandas were born in southwestern China recently? They are too little to be cute yet, but isn't it so exciting? 😊

So I realize that I have never done a Taylor themed animal anon, which quite frankly is just embarrassing! So I want to know, what is your favorite Taylor animal moment? You can share in text, video, or picture! I know for me, my favorite is the photo of Blake and Taylor with a Koala 😊.

Feel free to tag animal anon so we can all see your lovely posts! And remember animal anon loves you and thinks you're killing it in life and being awesome! 🥰🐨🥳

aaa i’m sorry it takes me forever to reply to asks 😩😩😩 i love seeing your posts on my dash, making an account was the best idea u ever had !!!! i love the positivity and all the cute animal content u provide for us 🥺

hmm my favorite taylor animal moment… i honestly just love every itty bitty kitty committee moment!!!! meredith, olivia, and benji are the best and i just love them like they r my own cats jdjdjdj i will say i’m a meredith STAN. that is my girlie…

i love this diary entry where she talks about how she’s getting a new kitten and how she’s gonna name her meredith gray 😩🥺 meredith’s origin story starts here!!!!!! i love it

i miss getting meredith content💔💔

BUT I LOVE OLIVIA SO MUCH TOO SHE IS SO CUTE!!! this is one of my all time favorite photos of dibbles AND taylor its so cute wahhh

we haven’t seen benji as much as the gorls but i loveee him i love that taylor loved him so much on the ME! set that she just had to take him home 😭😭😭 and i love his name!!!!!! AND I LOVE HOW FLOOFY HE IS NOW omg

anyways sorry this was so long djdjjdjd i could go on and on fr thank u for sending me this and for being such a positive light in this fandom🌈🌸💫😽

#sorry if this makes no sense i couldn’t stop typing and adding photos #asks #animalanon

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whoacanada · 3 years

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(Hey, look! That Zimbits AU where Jack goes into PR after retiring from the NHL and NHL!Bitty comes looking for advice about coming out!)

“Your ten-o-clock, remember?” April gestures to the conference room with her pen. “The cutie the Hurricanes coughed up for Pride Night outreach? He’s here.”

Jack tugs down the blinds with a cautious finger and zeroes in on the handsome blonde sitting awkwardly at one end of their large conference table, conspicuously alone. “There’s always suits for outreach talks,” Jack hazards, looking back at his receptionist over his shoulder. “They never send players alone.”

“It’s what we’ve got on the books. Eric Bittle, Carolina Hurricanes. No plus ones.” April whispers, checking her calendar. “Well? Get in there, Boss; and buckle up, he’s got an accent.”

Eric Bittle looks up, his dark brown eyes wide and unfairly attractive as Jack extends his hand, Bittle rising to take it. Everything about Bittle is polished and perfected; suit tailored, hair coiffed so neatly Jack would posit he’d gone in to have it trimmed before he’d arrived this morning. He’s pulled together so tightly, in fact, that Jack can’t find any loose threads, and if he remembers his time in The Show correctly, no loose threads means Mr. Bittle’s probably hiding something.

“Eric? I’m Jack Zimmermann. It’s great to meet you.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Bittle chuckles, and Jack’s heart would skip a beat if he wasn’t so certain there’s a huge piece of context still missing from this meeting. “It’s still very nice to meet you in person.”

“So, tell me about Pride Night,” Jack pops the button on his suit jacket and settles down across the table. “What, exactly are the ‘Canes thinking about doing that involves you coming to see us?”

Bittle bites his lip briefly, gaze darting off before coming back to settle on Jack, and Jack is reminded of so many media training sessions it’s like he’s back in Vegas again.

“I may have, ah, fudged the reason for my visit a bit. Yes, we have Pride Night coming up, yes I’m the designated sacrifice, but I’m more here on personal business.”

Jack eases the tip of his pen from the legal pad, recognizing an off-the-record admission is coming. “How personal?” He questions. “Are we talking potential legal trouble or just potential social trouble? Or no trouble at all.”

“I’m gay.” Bittle says plainly. “Whatever trouble that may be. My team knows it, my family knows it, and I want to come out — I need to come out — and I can’t mess it up.”

Jack is grateful for his game face, reaching for the coffee carafe near him to couch his surprise and no small measure of his excitement. “Oh, you mean like I did?” Jack jokes, earning a soft smile.

“No active player has come out since you retired,” Eric skirts Jack’s comment, taking the mug before gingerly amending, “Not voluntarily, at least. I’d like to break that streak. Given your experience, and what you do now, it seemed like the smart move to come speak with you.”

“Well, I’ll be the first to admit my behavior didn’t lend itself to much confidence with the public at large, but that’s why I’m where I am today. Making sure people like you can learn from my mistakes.”

“And you made a lot of mistakes,” Bittle murmurs, taking the mug from Jack gingerly, glances back out the window as he takes a sip, and Jack fights a smile when he realizes what’s happening.

“Are you . . . chirping me?”

“Makes me less nervous,” Bittle admits, apologetic. “But that was rude, I’m sorry.”

Bittle’s eyes are bright. His smile is bright. Everything about him is warm, inviting. Jack might be biased, though, he’s always had a soft spot for compact blondes.

“Don’t apologize.” Jack leans back in his chair, feeling lighter than he has in weeks. “You might be the only one in the whole league right now that doesn’t need to apologize.”

“I think I need to have a partner,” Eric clears his throat. “I can’t come out without a reason, otherwise what’s the point.”

“That answers one of my first questions, gives us a place to start. Yes, a boyfriend gets you points, but not in the way you’re thinking. If you come out with a guy on your arm, the story becomes maintaining the relationship, not that you have one or that you are ‘out’ at all. The scandal is the relationship falling apart, or you flirting with a fan when you have your partner at home, that kind of drama.”

“And if I just say, ‘hello, I am a homosexual’ people will think I’m promiscuous, or just trying to get laid.”

“Maybe. Are you?”

Bittle’s expression turns indignant, lips twisting into a judgmental frown that reminds Jack of his grandmother before a scolding.

“What kind of question is that? Yes, of course, but they don’t need to know that. But that doesn’t — You know, you gave me hope?”

Jack doesn’t quite startle, he’s well beyond the jumpyness of his youth, but he has no clue where this conversation is about to go.

“When you came out, when you were drafted, your cup season . . . every time you succeeded, beat the odds, it made me think, maybe, I could do it, too. I could be a professional athlete, I could play hockey, and it didn’t matter who I wanted to be with.”

Jack knows there’s a ‘but’ coming, he can feel it; so he gets there first.

“But . . . then I overdosed.”

“Then you retired.” Eric corrects. “Two years before I signed with Carolina, and you just gave up. I was going to be the first out NCAA men’s hockey captain, you ‘retired’ in scandal, and suddenly the trustees didn’t want the attention. Back to square one.”

“Eric, I wasn’t well.” Jack defends gently, knowing Bittle isn’t trying to be cruel.

“You let them get to you! You were supposed to be untouchable. I needed you to be untouchable.”

“Eric.”

“I’m sorry,” Bittle looks down at his hands, the table, anywhere but Jack. “I genuinely didn’t intend for any of this to come up so quickly, you’ve been nothing but charming and here I am dumping all my baggage on you like we’ve been talking for years . . . ”

“It’s actually alright. I’ve made peace with what happened to me, what I put myself through, and I wasn’t kidding that I’m very intent on making sure I can help others avoid the same pitfalls. So, what do you need from me right now?” Jack asks, genuinely curious. “An apology? A hug? You wouldn’t be the first to ask.”

“I want . . .” Bittle huffs, closing his eyes and evening his breathing. “I want dinner.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve loved the idea of you since I was sixteen, but now I actually need your advice on how to do this without losing my mind, and I can’t plan my future from a boardroom, so, I want you to take me to dinner. I want to hash this out like two normal, well functioning adult men. Also, maybe alcohol.”

“Speak for yourself on the well-functioning part,” Jack chirps himself, “but I think dinner can be arranged. I assure you, you’ll have my full support moving forward. The firm’s, as well.”

Bittle’s lips quirk, holding Jack’s gaze. He caught the slip, and now there’s nothing to do but own it. They lapse into a gentle silence. Jack sipping his coffee, Bittle doing the same. Jack isn’t sure what he’s waiting for, the puck is at the end of his stick. He flashes a smile. Bittle blushes.

“So,” Jack begins. “Do you like Burmese?”

____

They part ways and April’s eyes are huge with suspicion. “Should we discuss fees?” she asks. “Do we need to start billing? Sounds like it went well.”

“Nah, we’ll talk later about payment,” Jack replies, folding his jacket over his arm, hiding the slip of paper with Bittle’s personal number and trying not to stare as the forward walks away. “I have a strong feeling I might be handling this pro bono.”

#Zimbits #OMGCP #my stuff #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #PR AU #NHL!Bitty #tw: overdose mention #I know I’ve been gone forever here’s a treat to say sorry

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stufftippywrote · 3 years

Text

not an astronaut

This is based off a personal experience. Tw for fat-shaming, homophobia, and general assholery from an asshole kid.

The bell rings cheerfully as Bitty steps through the doorway. This was one of his favorite places when he was younger. The eclectic curios, every shape and size and color, packing the shelves were an endless source of fascination for young Eric Bittle, and the owners were friends of the family, so they knew Bitty well and didn't freak out when he picked up a ceramic pepper shaker or glass figurine and held it in his hands like an ancient treasure.

He walks through the store with that same sense of wonder now, 30 years later, and brushes his hand reverently over the shelves. They’re not looking for anything in particular today, but Bitty has told Jack about this place so many times, he simply couldn’t help but visit. Besides, you never know when you might find the perfect accent piece for the new home.

Chicken-shaped serving bowls, a porcelain figurine of a girl dancing, a set of silverware in a dusty wooden case. Bitty is spoiled for choice. As he browses, there’s a movement at the back of the store, and he catches a glimpse of someone hauling boxes through a door. He wonders who runs the place now. The sign still says Thompson’s Antiques, but he knows Mrs. Thompson passed and Mr. Thompson is getting on in years. Could it be that…

A prickle of fear runs through him.

The figure in the back drags the box to a nearby aisle and starts unpacking it, placing items on a low shelf. Bitty’s curiosity overflows. He moseys into that aisle and begins to speak, but the man raises his head before he can get a word out. He has to catch his breath all over again.

The man’s face goes slack. “I know you,” he blurts.

Eric puts his hands on his hips and gives a bright smile. “Davey Thompson. So you’re here after all!”

~~~

“Davey, this is Eric. Eric, this is our little boy Davey.” Mrs. Thompson’s smile is bright as she urges her son forward. “Why don’t you two go play at the playground while Mommy and her friend talk?”

The kid is tough-looking, with ruddy cheeks and a thick build. Eric reaches out his hand to lead Davey along the way. The minute they’re out of earshot, Davey snatches his hand back like he’s just touched a hot stove. Eric turns, surprised.

“You’re fat,” Davey says.

Eric blinks.

“You look dumb,” Davey adds on. And thus a quote-unquote “friendship” was born.

~~~

Davey stands up. He still has the same tinted cheeks and stocky build that Bitty remembers, but his face is sunken somehow, and he’s built up muscle where baby fat used to linger on his arms and shoulders. He’s got a tattoo on one arm – a Japanese koi fish, mid-splash.

“Nice ink,” Bitty comments.

And Davey Thompson, for possibly the first time in his life, smiles at Bitty. “Thanks.”

“The shop looks nice,” Bitty says, surveying the shelf like it’s his domain. “Hasn’t changed much since I used to come here.”

“You’re – you’re Eric Bittle, right?” Davey says, sounding almost scared of the answer. “From school?”

“From way before school,” Bitty responds. “You’re looking good.”

“Uh. Thanks. Same to you.” Davey looks uncertain, almost sheepish. There’s a moment of awkward silence. Davey tries to break it. “Um. So. What are you –”

He doesn’t seem to have the strength, or the will, to come up with the rest of the sentence. Bitty picks it up. “I’m a pastry chef,” he says. “I have a bakery and I cater, and I’ve put out three cookbooks. Can you imagine that?”

Davey looks kind of stunned. “Wow,” he says slowly. “Good for you. Where’s the bakery?”

“Up in New England. Providence, Rhode Island, to be exact.”

Davey snaps his fingers. “That’s right, you went to college up there. For hockey, wasn’t it?”

~~~

Bitty takes a swing at the ball. He misses, and it goes tumbling behind him into the net.

“Hah, you’re the worst goalie,” Davey says.

Somehow, Bitty finds the courage to say, “Let me play forward.” But his words are swallowed by the passing of a car on the cross street.

“What?”

“You be goalie.” Bitty gives the phrase all the menace he’s got in an eight-year-old body.

Davey laughs, a cruel laugh that sounds like ripping paper in Bitty’s ears. “Why? I can score on you all I want. That’s why we made you goalie.”

Resentment simmers like a low sun in Bitty’s gut. He wants to challenge Davey to play him on actual ice. He knows Davey can’t skate. As bad as he is, Bitty can’t possibly lose to him there. But the words stay stuck inside, plastered to the inside of his stomach, making him feel sick.

“Worst goalie ever,” Kevin chimes in.

“The worst, the wooooorst,” all four of them sing to him.

Bitty crouches low and is glad they can’t see much through the oversized goalie mask. Someday, he thinks, someday I’m gonna get them.

~~~

“Something like that,” Bitty answers easily. “And you’ve been here running the store?”

“Pretty much.” He doesn’t look very proud of that fact.

“I remember you used to say you were going to be an astronaut.”

“Ah, well –” The rose tint on Davey’s cheeks grows a shade deeper. “We were kids. I figure I missed my shot to make something of myself.”

All of Bitty’s nurturing instincts come alive. “Don’t say that. You’re doing well. Doing good, honest work. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Nah, man. It was just the easiest thing to do, once Mom got sick. I had to be here for her, and I … just stayed.”

Bitty gazes at him. This isn’t the attitude he expected from Davey Thompson, not in the slightest. He seems so defeated, as though Bitty’s arrival has reminded him of everything he isn’t. Bitty doesn’t want to be that for him, but he doesn’t think he has a choice in the matter. He quashes the small, self-satisfied demon that’s cackling in the back of his head. He’s not that kid anymore, either.

Just then, the chimes jingle at the front of the store. The babbling voice of a young child brightens the room. “Ah,” Bitty says, “there they are. He had to keep them outside a while before they calmed down. Little kids just work themselves up into a dither sometimes.” He offers an apologetic smile to Davey and retreats down the aisle toward the front of the store.

Suze is quiet, but it’s clear she was crying her eyes out earlier. She hangs on to her Papa with a fierce fist. Robby’s eyes are bugging out at the sight of the store. “What’s that?” he keeps asking, tugging on Jack’s slacks. Jack himself looks a little the worse for wear, but happy. That kind of tired-happy that they see in each other’s faces every night once the kids are in bed.

“Come on, Rob,” Bitty says, holding out his hands. “Want to see Daddy’s favorite store?”

Robby holds out his hands to be picked up. Bitty obliges, despite the warning creak of his back. He turns to take Robby further into the store and sees Davey standing there, staring them down.

He points. “I know you, too.”

“Ah, here we go,” Bitty says with a laugh.

“Were you in school with us? I don’t think that’s right, but—”

Jack holds out his hand for a shake. “Jack Zimmermann,” he says. “And you are?”

“My old friend Davey,” Bitty fills in. He can’t help but put a pointed emphasis on the friend part.

Davey clasps Jack’s hand but doesn’t seem to want to let go. “You’re Jack Zimmermann? The hockey player?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

Davey pumps Jack’s hand about four more times before finally letting go. “It’s – it’s good to meet you.” He looks at Suze, still curled up in Jack’s other arm. “And these are your kids? Or—” He turns to Bitty, face contorted in confusion. “Are they your kids?”

“Both,” Bitty answers cheerily. “Davey, meet my husband.”

Davey Thompson very nearly has a coronary right there.

~~~

“Hah, you’re just small all over, aren’t you?” Davey says with a pointed glance at Bitty’s crotch.

“You can’t help how you’re born,” Bitty retorts, but he pulls up his boxers right quick.

“Yeah, some people are just born stupid,” Davey agrees. Bitty instantly regrets replying at all.

Kyle whispers something in Davey’s ear. They both laugh.

“You’re right,” Davey says. He turns back to Bitty. “He’s right. They do say things about you.”

Bitty’s heart drops to his stomach. “W-what things?”

“You know! That you’re—” Davey flaps his wrist.

He doesn’t seem to have the nerve to say the word, but he doesn’t have to say it. The others in the locker room laugh.

For not the first time, Bitty is tempted to just ask, “So what if I am?” But he can’t. Not to these people. This isn’t how he wants his coming out to happen. So he just turns away and pulls on his sweatpants, ignoring the rills of laughter that echo against the lockers, and feels small. Small all over.

~~~

Davey recovers from his shock and nods his head rapidly. “Oh, I get it. Uh, congratulations. Uh, Bittle, could I talk to you a sec?”

He has that sheepish look again. Bitty watches as he retreats into one of the side aisles. “Gimme a sec,” he tells Jack, setting Robby down, and follows Davey.

When they're isolated, Davey turns to him sorrowfully. “I, uh—” Davey looks at the floor. “I was pretty mean to you in school.”

It isn’t what Bitty expected, not at all. To be honest, demons in the back of his head aside, this sort of thing doesn’t bother him so much anymore. Why should it? He’s married with two kids and a brand new home. He doesn’t spare a lot of time thinking about the distant past. “Um,” he starts, suddenly terribly embarrassed.

“No, let me—” Davey raises a hand. “Just let me. I said a lot of nasty things to you back then. I’m really sorry about it. I think about it a lot, and I’m just – I’m really sorry.”

There is a piece of Bitty that’s happy, even smug, at hearing this apology. But mostly he just pities Davey at this point. What a thing to carry around your whole life. “We were kids,” Bitty says. “Kids say dumb things. It’s all water under the bridge.”

“Still.” Davey says.

“I can’t say it didn’t hurt me,” Bitty goes on. “But I turned out okay, don’t you think?”

Davey laughs grimly “Yeah, look at you … and look at me.” He shrugs.

“You seem to be doing all right,” Bitty says charitably.

“I’m not an astronaut,” Davey says.

Bitty laughs. “Neither am I. We’re all good.” He pats Davey on the shoulder. A moment passes between them, silent, as they both listen to the sound of the past giving way to a new, kinder present.

After the moment passes, Bitty grins “Come on, I’m going to introduce you to my kids. Do you have kids?”

Davey flushes. “Yeah, I got a teenager. A real smartass. I wonder where he learned it.”

“Pictures!” Bitty declares. “Get that phone out, I demand pictures.”

Davey struggles to pull his phone out of his jeans pocket. This time, he flushes with pride. He narrates the story of each photo as they walk back toward the front.

#i hate writing endings: a novel #check please #omgcp #omgcp fic #omgcp ficlet #zimbits #but more really about bitty himself #stuff tippy wrote

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