#he just needs quiet time sometimes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hum--hallelujah · 9 months

Text

don't want to kill time like it doesn't matter - 3.5k words, (platonic) funkobra hurt/comfort

---

Ghoul is actually younger than Kobra. They always forget it though.

At least, they usually do.

Kobra's stopped shooting upright and reaching for his blaster whenever someone wakes him up at night. Stopped two years ago, honestly, when him and Ghoul started sharing a room. That was a collective decision that is very much not discussed. It left the old office as a perfect room for the Girl, in the end. Between Ghoulie and Girlie, the former of whom has wild, sleepless tendencies and the latter liking to scramble her way into bed with somebody else every other night of the week, Kobra's knee-jerk reaction has become more of a lack of reaction.

"Yo," hisses a pitchy voice. It's dead daylight, the heat of the day. This is the time of the year when you sleep while the sun's up, wait until the darkness falls to do anything or else it's too miserable or too dangerous. "Kobes."

Kobra utters a verbose "Hrrmngg?" and rolls over. He cracks an eye open to see Ghoul standing at the end of his bed. If it hadn't been light out, he'd be doing a good job of living up to his name. His hands are shaking, but when aren't they?

"You good, man?" Kobra asks groggily. He's half awake, half asleep, drifting in between the two states of being. Ghoul is shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. It makes the floor creak. It makes him look even smaller than he is. "Ghoulie?" He mumbles again when he gets no reply.

Ghoul makes a noncommittal half-whispered sound. "Wanna go for a joyride?" He asks instead of an answer.

Kobra blinks himself more fully awake and pushes up on one elbow. "Mirage or the 'Am?"

Ghoulie shrugs. Won't meet his eyes. Oh shit, that's not good. Something's got him worked up. It's too late for this. This is why they share a room now. They didn't used to, but Kobra refuses to let him sleep alone anymore. Kobra knows how he got that wicked scar that runs from the corner of his mouth nearly to his eye.

"Either," Ghoul says. "Doesn't matter much to me."

"Mirage," Kobra decides. He'll never say no to a late-night joyride. Not this kind. Party'll have his neck for sneaking out on the bike without letting anyone know, but the 'Am is too conspicuous when strange crews are out and from the look of him, riding double on the motorcycle will be good for Ghoul.

It's still too hot to be out. But going for a spin won't take too much exertion, getting to someplace with shade, so long as it's away from here, won't take too long. Ghoul's gonna get sunscorched. Maybe that's the point. While Kobra covers up with his jacket, Ghoul is still in the loose, half-covering clothes he sleeps in.

The sun glints painfully off the sand when they climb quietly out the window. No reason trying to get past Party when they've got an exit right here. Ghoul clambers out first with a probably accidental but surprisingly graceful roll and then flinches, violently, when Kobra jacket catches on what's left of the glass in the window and he tumbles haphazardly to the ground. They both hold still for a long dozen seconds, Kobra staring at the diner wall and straining to tell if anyone heard them, and Ghoul staring at Kobra and shaking.

When Party doesn't come along, eyes glinting with annoyed amusement, and yell at them for sneaking out, Kobra sits up and checks the hem of his jacket where it caught on the sharp edge. "Great," he mutters when he sees the tear in the lining. He'll have to sew that back together later. "Ghoul, you good?"

Ghoul shrugs and stands up. "Aren't I always?"

"No."

They stare at each other for a few seconds while Kobra rubs his palms together to clear the sand off them and reaches into his pocket for his gloves. "You're wearing a helmet," he says flatly.

Ghoul rolls his eyes and sneers. It crinkles the scar running up his face. "No way."

"Fine." Kobra doesn't push. Half the time he doesn't even wear his helmet. He's the driver. He'll keep them safe. It was worth a try, though. "Come on."

The heavy bay door of the garage makes too much noise to open without being caught. They slip in the side door and Kobra brings Mirage carefully back through it. He wears a helmet this time. Ghoul stands and waits, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet, while Kobra starts the bike and, out of habit, does a couple checks.

"You ready?" Kobra says, with the visor of his helmet flipped up.

Ghoul grins, but it's lacking in heart. So often, Kobra thinks he's not all there. So often, Kobra thinks this is his best friend. "Born that way," he replies.

"Come on then," Kobra says and nods for Ghoul to get on the bike with him. "Hey, hey. Hey, Ghoulie-" he says, when Ghoul is standing right at his shoulder, about to throw a leg over Mirage and climb on. "You okay?" He asks again, because he needs to know how safe any of this is.

Ghoul doesn't respond. Just settles himself behind Kobra and wraps his arms, tight, around Kobra's middle. Kobra stays there a second, until he's sure Ghoul's grip is solid, so that he can feel Ghoul breathing against his back, before he kicks off. He doesn't care if Party and Jet wake up now, they won't catch them. The bike's tires kick up a fountain of sand as he spins a loop, leaning into the turn until Mirage tilts close enough to the ground that Kobra could touch the sand if he reached out. Ghoul asked for a joyride. This is that.

"What the hell, man?!" Ghoul yells over Kobra's shoulder, muffled by the engine noise and his helmet. Kobra feels Ghoul's hands grab at the fabric of his shirt as he pulls around the first turn, bringing them around the back of a sand dune at full speed.

"Trust me?" Kobra shouts back. He's getting into it now, relaxing into each wide, showy swerve and fishtail. He slows down just a bit when he can feel Ghoul's fingernails start to bite into his skin. It makes him edgy when Ghoul is like this.

Ghoul sniffs sharply. "Well, yeah, but I've seen you crash out enough times at the track-"

"Aw, shut up," Kobra snaps back, without venom. Ghoul's his mechanic. He's seen his best wins and worst losses. "Where you wanna go?" He asks, after a few random turns, just drifting around in the sand. Ghoul is quiet. Kobra reaches back with one hand and smacks him on the leg after awhile. "Ghoulie, where we goin'?"

"I'm thinki-" Ghoul cuts himself off and when he speaks again his voice is flat and so quiet Kobra has to strain to hear him. "Turn right up here."

There's the remains of a road cutting across their path and Kobra hops Mirage up onto it, swings right and follows the pavement. Ghoul's grip around his chest has loosened, but Kobra can feel the fast, shallow rhythm of his breathing and the shaking of his hands even still. The road goes on for ages, long enough that it starts to feel infinite. This must have been a highway, back before the wars and BL/ind. At some point, Ghoul leans forward and puts his forehead against the back of Kobra's neck. Kobra can feel him pressed just below where his helmet sits.

"Get off at this turn," Ghoul mumbles suddenly, but not soon enough because Kobra completely overshoots the exit. He flips around the empty lanes of the highway, admittedly showing off mostly just to make himself feel better.

The group of buildings along the former highway off-ramp isn't really a ghost town. It's a cluster of old stores and restaurants, like the diner but mass produced, and down at the end is an ancient truck stop and gas station. Kobra slows the bike to a crawl as they drive down the street, struck with an eerie sense of deja vu. He's been here before. They both have.

He pulls over and stops in the middle of the road, beside what used to be a coffee store. Coffee is usually made in the form of compressed, dried out shots now, called Motor Juice in the Zones when rehydrated. They don't have coffeeshops in the City. They have prescriptions.

Ghoul is off the bike and Kobra's back suddenly cold even under the heat of the sun before Mirage even comes to a full stop. "Ghoul-" Kobra snaps, angry for reasons he can't even say and unsettled in ways he doesn't want to. This is a ghost town. Just not in the normal way. "Ghoul. What are you-"

But Ghoul is walking away, his back to Kobra and the bike as he moves toward the gas station as if it's a magnet and he's the blade of a knife, trembling so hard with the pull that it might break. Kobra hesitates, then swings his leg over Mirage and bumps out the kickstand. Ghoul is standing stock still, or as still as he can, on the faded pavement of the gas station parking lot. Kobra's glad it's faded. He doesn't want to see the bloodstains.

Ghoul looks small as he approaches, absolutely miniscule. He's got his arms wrapped tight around himself and Kobra can hear the harshness of his breathing even from several strides away. He doesn't want to get too close too fast. Ghoul's enough like a wild animal that it could turn out badly, and Kobra for once really doesn't want to fight him today. Not out here, at least.

They're within two years of each other, Kobra and Ghoul. They usually forget they're not the same age. But right now Ghoul looks so small and so, so young and Kobra doesn't know what to do.

"Gh- Ghoul. Ghoulie." Kobra calls carefully, stumbling over his tongue. He clamps his teeth together, takes a deep breath. "Ghoul."

Ghoul doesn't turn, doesn't look away from the door into the gas station he'd been found in, back when Kobra and Poison and Jet were a crew of three and Ghoul'd been even more feral than he is now. The gas station where Ghoul watched his entire family die and he was helpless to do anything about it. He still thinks he hadn't done enough. Kobra knows that. Ghoul always thinks he didn't do enough. That one kid with a blaster and wild eyes could take down a full squad of Dracs and two Crows.

Kobra doesn't know how to tell him that if he'd tried, he would be dead too. Kobra doesn't know how to tell him he's glad he didn't. When it comes down to it most, Kobra finds he can't speak.

"Ghoulie," he says again. "Hey. Hey." He moves closer, pulls off the helmet he'd almost forgotten he still has on. "Ghoul," he tries, one more time, as gently as he knows how even though it's not that gentle. He's never been good at this. Some of the scars scattered across Ghoul's body are from him. But Kobra had stitched up Ghoul's face and he's not going to give up now.

Ghoul finally turns and Kobra breathes a sigh of relief. Just a response. Proof of life even though he's still standing. And then Ghoul steps toward him and suddenly he's right there, shaking but otherwise just as eerily still as this entire place, like he's trapped in frozen time just like the rest of it, and he collides with Kobra's chest in a way that's both surprising and yet entirely expected.

"Oh." Kobra drops his helmet, dangling from one hand, and his arms hover uncertainly in the air for a moment before he carefully closes them around Ghoul. "Oh. Okay. Okay." He says quietly, startled, but not really. He'd felt the way Ghoul was holding onto him as they rode Mirage all the way out here.

Ghoul unfolds his arms from around himself and grabs onto the unzipped sides of Kobra's jacket. He doesn't cry, not out loud at least. He's just shaking, so much, and so, so small. Kobra's not good with words. He's even worse with them under pressure. Anything Jet or Party could say to make it better, that kind of stuff gets stuck on his tongue when Kobra tries to say it. So he doesn't. He just holds on.

"You plan on coming here?" Kobra asks eventually, even though he has a feeling the answer is no. Unless it's an engine or a bomb, Ghoul never really plans on much. Ghoul shakes his head, hair scrubbing against Kobra's shoulder and neck where his head's pressed. "You wanna... y'wanna go inside?" He asks then, against his better judgment. But then again, he's never been known for that, has he.

Ghoul tenses, but it momentarily stops the shaking. "Can we?"

Kobra huffs. "Nobody stoppin' us, and even if there were, we'd do it anyway, wouldn't we?"

Ghoul pries his fingers from their hold on Kobra's jacket and turns back toward the station. "Should we?"

"Dunno." Part of him thinks it might help. Part of him remembers exactly what happened the last time they were here. It's the Killjoy way to call death ghosting. It means some part of you lives on even when you're gone. There's a lot of ghosts in this pavement. "It's your-"

He can't think of what word goes there. Choice. Past. Grief. Place. So he stops talking. He shrugs, bends to pick up his helmet. "I can." He sucks a breath through his teeth. He's going to say it again. "I can... I can go with you. If you," he shrugs one shoulder again. "If you, uh, want to. I'm not- I'm not trying to force you," he adds, like it needs to be said. "It's your... yours."

Because that's all that really can be said. This place, the place that made Fun Ghoul what he is. The journey, however brief, that brought them here. Even, kinda, Kobra himself. It's all for Ghoul, here and now. Kobra drove, but he's just along for the ride. Weird how that happens.

Ghoul steps toward the station. Magnetism, again. And Kobra follows, because how could he not. He feels sick at the though of letting his friend go in that place alone.

The doors are gone. Shot out years ago. It looks to Kobra exactly as it did back then, but Ghoul probably remembers better. There are shelves toppled and glass and plastic broken all over the floor. Whatever hasn't been scavenged is broken and shattered. Ghoul walks toward the back of the store, the corner that's not so much a mess. Kobra stays back a bit, trying to give his friend space.

It's where they found Ghoul. Or, where Pois had found him. Ghoul was half in shock, terrified and scarred and fighting, and Party was the first one of their then three-strong group to notice the dark shape watching them hopelessly trawl the carnage for any survivors. It took Pois physically restraining the much smaller kid to keep Ghoul from going for all of their throats.

Kobra has a lot of bad memories of Ghoul. None are as bad as remembering the way he'd screamed when they first met.

"Y'okay?" Kobra asks after a while.

Ghoul has his moments. They all do. Sometimes, you wake up bad in the night and it's hard to pick yourself up. Sometimes you just gotta hit the bottom before you even can. But Ghoul's a fighter. "Yeah," he says, walking back and forth between fallen shelves once stocked with food and stupid trinkets. He crouches to pick up the shattered remnants of something once made of colorful glass and when he looks back over his shoulder at Kobra, he doesn't seem quite as small.

"'M sorry," Kobra mumbles, not knowing what to say now. Somehow, the shaking and the touch are so much easier than having to talk about it. He's never been the talker. That's Party. And he knows his brother regrets not getting there — here — sooner that day, but there's a sick, selfish part of Kobra that's too glad to have Ghoul to want anything different. But really, it's all he can say. If there's remnants of bones that haven't been carried away by carrion-eaters, he doesn't want to see it.

Ghoul slowly stands up from his spot on the floor, staring intently at the broken knick-knack in his palm. It might have been a glass teddy bear, once, something a parent might grab up for a child waiting at home. It's partially shattered, though. Half of its cartoonish smiling face is gone. The heart shape it once held in its paws is cracked down the middle. Kobra isn't great with metaphors, but this is pretty fucking obvious.

"I didn't save them," Ghoul says quietly, his voice grating through the charged, silent air. "I didn't save her."

Something clicks into place. They all know that the crew he lost was Ghoul's real actual biological family. He's a sandpup. He was born and raised in the Zones. He doesn't talk about it much. Kobra's shocked he even came back here, let alone with anyone else. Ghoul doesn't talk about his family, but they've all figured for a while that he had a sibling. You can see it in how he treats the Girl.

"Your sister," Kobra says. It doesn't sound like so much of a question when he says it out loud, but he knows Ghoul will understand it as one.

Ghoul nods. "Yeah." He steps over some toppled displays, sun-bleached ads that used to be bright colored, and slips the shiny piece of broken glass into one of Kobra's pockets since he doesn't have any of his own. Kobra can already see the sunburn forming on his friend's shoulders and the tops of his knees. "She was like, eight."

That's all the more he says about it, but Kobra slips his hand into the pocket and runs his fingers over the broken glass toy still warm from Ghoul's hands, and hears the years of grief and bitterness in the few words. Ghoul's more talky than he is, but he's cagey, too. Kobra can hear him, though. He gets it. Doesn't mean he knows what to say, though.

"Shit," he spits. He wants to say I'm sorry again, but that feels fuckin cheap. He wants to say stop beating yourself up about it, but that sounds even stupider. "Fuck." Sometimes that's all he can say.

"Yeah," Ghoul replies. "Fuckin shit."

"Exactly," Kobra agrees, fiercely relieved that Ghoul gets all the shit he's trying to say. "Hey, uh. Y'know I'm-" He stumbles over the words, cringes at himself for the inability to get past a stupid two-letter word. "I'm glad I know you." He manages, as selfish as it sounds standing here in the ghosted wreckage where Ghoul's family was killed. But if that hadn't happened, they wouldn't be here now. They wouldn't be friends. And Kobra needs Ghoul to know he's glad that any suicide run to save his family failed. The pain sucks, but he's grateful for the outcome. He hopes Ghoul can understand that.

Ghoul doesn't reply. His acid green eyes bore straight into Kobra's for a few seconds while Kobra's heart hammers in his chest. Then he kicks at some dust and looks at the floor and shrugs. "Let's go, man. I don't wanna stay here."

"M'kay."

Kobra's almost tempted to reach out as they walk back out into the glaring sun, grab onto Ghoul like he's a ghost, too, and the light might evaporate him. But he doesn't. He can't.

He thinks the feeling of Ghoul hanging onto him as he steers Mirage away, back up the ramp to the road they came down in the first place, will make him feel better. It doesn't. Ghoul holds on much looser than he had on the way here, and it makes Kobra nervous. He wonders if he should have made him wear a helmet, and steers more carefully around the turns.

And then Ghoul adjusts his seat and throws one arm up over Kobra's shoulder, loosely hooking around his neck. He leans up forward and shouts, "C'mon, Kobes, let's play with it!" Like he's itching for the risk that a couple hours ago had had him holding on for dear life. Kobra's used to thinking his best friend isn't all there. But he's also familiar with the times he is. Sometimes, he forgets they're not the same age because Ghoul is so larger than life.

He tips his head to the side in acknowledgement, and punches the throttle. He even pulls a couple of tight, quick loops. He can't slide on the pavement the way he would on sand, but he can catch a little air when there's a thermal bump in the highway. Ghoul clutches onto him, but it's not scared. Something's cleared up in the gas station. Maybe it was closure. Hell if Kobra knows.

When they pull Mirage off the highway and the diner finally comes back into view, just a small glint of signage, Kobra slows his pace and can feel Ghoul sigh more than he can hear it. His friend's arms stay firmly around him. "Hey, Kobes?" Ghoul says, just barely loud enough to be heard over the engine.

"Yeah?" Kobra says, a bit louder to be heard past his helmet.

Ghoul hesitates, then says in a rush, "I'm glad I know you too. Like, really glad." And then he squeezes Kobra a little tighter for just a second and Kobra can't even say anything in reply. It's been a long night at the wrong time of day. And they're almost home.

#yes I know kobra is doing that annoying ''r u ok'' thing very repetitively he's like me he repeats himself A LOT it's ok. we still love him #I cannot express this enough. kobra has a stutter. literally sometimes the only word that will come out is just. F bomb.#the others have gotten very good at translating him skskskddkfj #btw wrt kobra's speech patterns just know I'm cutting WAY back on the amount of repeating I do irl #like I'm giving him my (mild) stutter but cutting down the repetitions by a lot bc it looks weird on paper #so whenever he's repeating himself and stammering? yeah it's a lot more like a scratched CD than how I typed it out #in my head it's like SUPER noticeable. like everyone knows this happens and that sometimes he has to stop and be quiet #and take a minute before he can get on with what he's saying. it's just a thing #ok now that I'm done rambling about kobra kid having a stutter- :)#btw they're like 16 and 17 here. they are children trying to navigate these very big emotions and I love them so so dearly #next time I need to emotionally or physically hurt kobra skfjfnskdn I keep going after poor ghoul #ok I think that's all I have to say for now #she speaks!#she writes!#danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #danger days: the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #ttlotfk #kobra kid #fun ghoul #this isn't really funkobra just bc I don't actually ship ANYONE here skskfjdghkdjgfkd #I'm much more compelled by platonic relationships that are kinda the Secret Third Thing than I am by romance. so. yeah

37 notes · View notes

softquietsteadylove · 3 months

Note

Hey. Had this idea of Thena being a billionaire and Gil being her private chef on her private little beach house in the Hamptons!

Maybe you can do something with that? 😊

Gil smiled as he plated the perfect omelette, gleaming yellow, nice loose scramble in the middle with a pristine outside. He sprinkled on some green onion for garnish; Thena acted like she didn't care about presentation but he knew she liked it when her food looked nice.

Thena was...interesting. She could be hard to read, maybe. He had been in the private cooking business for a while, and he'd had a variety of clients. But no one like Thena.

Thena had this old family house, basically a castle, way out here in the Hamptons--as antisocial as possible. She was in charge of her family's generational wealth, he was pretty sure they did business with historical...stuff. Or something.

Thena didn't talk much. The first time he interviewed for the position with her in the room he wasn't even sure if she spoke English. But her assistant - a very sweet man named Karun - assured him that 'the Madame' was perfectly nice. Just not to bother her.

But Karun was right: Thena was nice. Sure, she didn't exactly make small talk with him while she was eating or anything. But she had a nice smile, she was prompt with money, both for his pay and for any of the ingredients he needed. He always had transportation home, or he had a room ready for him if he was staying for a whole weekend.

Gil put the plate on a place mat at the opposite counter top. Thena liked eating in the kitchen instead of the cavernous dining room. She ate a a French style omelette, or if she was feeling adventurous, maybe a frittata, or he had even prepared omurice for her once. She liked fresh pressed grapefruit juice with a little natural sweetener in it. And berries picked from the gardens.

And he liked to add a little flower if there were any blooming on the strawberry plants while he was out picking.

Thena came in through the patio. She had already done her morning routine, then. A light workout, a shower, maybe a sauna. Her phone was in her hand but she famously didn't accept anyone speaking to her before 9 in the morning. She smiled and nodded to him as she took her seat.

She was in a good mood.

Gil turned around, carefully transporting the gold rimmed cup with his best cappuccino yet. He had even looked up how to make latte art to make a heart design in it.

Thena blinked, surprised as it slid into her view. She looked up at him.

He just nodded, encouraging her to take a sip.

She raised an eyebrow but did so. Usually he waited for her to ask for a specific coffee, since it could vary largely depending on the morning.

He shrugged; something about how beautiful the sunrise was had told him she would want something fun. It wasn't sunday, so she wouldn't want something as filling as a latte. But she only drank black coffee when she was already in a bad mood. Actually, now that he thought about it he ought to get more vanilla soy milk.

Thena sighed at her first sip, her shoulders lowering as she let the hot beverage soak into her. She really was in a good mood.

Gil just chuckled, keeping his comments to himself. He had come to respect the serenity Thena created for herself in the early mornings. He turned again to clear his dishes and fill the dishwasher.

He had to get soy milk, and a few other general weekend groceries. And he needed to get ingredients for a recipe he saw online, essentially a lemon cake tiramisu. Thena liked zingy, fresh flavours, and she enjoyed having something sweet on hand for if a craving hit her out of nowhere or after a hard day.

"It's perfect."

He tried to conceal the surprise he was feeling. But he couldn't help it; Thena had almost never commented on anything he made her, unless it was a brief line attached in an email. He turned, "y-yeah?"

She nodded.

He pursed his lips faintly. Back to silence--okay, sure. He peeked in the fridge to examine what else they had and what he needed. When he had asked Karun what Thena liked to keep on hand, he had merely stated that Thena was so bad at cooking, and so selective about food, that if left to her own devices she would probably just eat raw fruit forever.

"How did you know?"

He grinned. So, he was making progress! He had tried more actively in the beginning to get her to warm up to him. But he had come to accept that Thena didn't withhold her words deliberately. Still, he liked it when she did talk. "Just thought you'd be in the mood for it."

She raised her eyebrows at him from behind the cup being tipped up to her lips again.

He closed the fridge and moved back to the counter. "It's nice and mild out this morning, so I think you should have slept well. Stocks are looking good and you don't have to travel this weekend, right? I figured you would want something a little fun."

Thena smiled through his explanation. Maybe some of his observations of her would be a little much to some. But she nodded, looking down into her cappuccino, one leg bent and resting on her cushioned stool. "I assumed you would prefer when I travel?"

Gil blinked.

She set the mug down, as if this were a very important business meeting. "If I'm here, you don't get the weekend off. Or at the very least, you have plenty of work to do before hand."

"I don't mind," he shrugged easily. It was part of the job, and as far as clients went, Thena really wasn't all that demanding. She wasn't even that high maintenance, all things considered.

Food was easy to procure, either grown here or paid for out of her pocket. The only real stipulations of what he made was that she had to eat it. Karun was kind of like a worrisome father in that way. He had added specifically that she needed more vegetables, and that meant it was up to Gil to make them in such a way that Thena would actually like them.

"Do you ever think you may be too agreeable?"

"Hm," Gil ran his hand over his chin (he needed to shave). "I think it's more like...part of the job, y'know?"

"Hm."

Gil blinked at the new tone of the sound. She looked back at her breakfast. She sounded almost...disappointed. Disheartened, and now poking at her omelette like a dejected little kid. Gil leaned off the further counter and moved closer to her. "I just...wanted to do something kind of special for you."

She peeked up at him. She was awfully cute for some zillionaire old money type. Her hair was nice and soft from being gently blow dried, she didn't have any makeup on, fresh from the shower. Maybe all rich people were really, really pretty.

"You're not contractually obligated to be thoughtful," she smiled as she said it, but he got the impression that she didn't fully believe in her own joke.

He shrugged again, pushing the little flower closer to her, "call it my signature, then. Every chef has their own style--I like being a little sweet."

Thena smiled at the little white strawberry flower. She even reached out to it, but just barely let her fingers brush its soft petals, as if she would make it burst into flame. "Quite."

Gil inhaled, feeling better now that she was smiling again. She looked up at him, the sun behind her, making her hair glow. He blushed.

"Thank you, Gilgamesh."

He laughed faintly, feeling shy as she turned those siren eyes on him. He leaned back from the counter, sticking his hands in his apron pockets. "Hey, it's my pleasure, really."

"If you have shopping to do, Karun will call for a car for you," she added as he started slowly slipping - stumbling - out of the kitchen.

"Th-Thanks!" Gil squeaked out before reaching the hallway. He pulled his apron off and gripped it on his way to take it to the laundry room.

"You require transport, sir!"

Gil jumped at the sudden appearance of the man in question. "God, man, can't you walk a little louder!"

"My apologies, sir," Karun just chuckled. "The Madame walks lightly--as do I."

Thena walked around like a cat. She was silent, graceful, long legs...

"Sir?"

Fuck. Gil nodded, twisting his apron in his hands. He tilted his head as Karun shuffled closer, even waving him down so he could share something secretive.

"Excellent choice with the cappuccino, sir," he disclosed with glee. "The Madame has been trying to strike up a conversation with you for some time. I believe this was the perfect-"

"Karun!"

"I must go," he waved to Gilgamesh before dashing off to see to Thena's needs.

Gil felt a little stunned. It sounded like Karun was telling him that Thena had been wanting to talk with him. But that didn't seem right. Of all the times he had tried to chat with her, she had never bit, even once. And he didn't really think of her as the shy type.

He sighed, shrugging it off. He had groceries to get, anyway. Maybe he would try talking with her again, later.

#Thenamesh AU #yesss this is a super cute request!#thank you so much love!#Thena is this quiet and reserved lady of course #she does business either in her office or she goes to the city for it #she doesn't drive and Gil would usually just bike places #he was a little unused to sitting in the back of a car all the time #but it's a great way to get all the groceries he needs #Karun is like a meddlesome dad #he knows his daughter has a crush on her new chef but #let's face it #Thena has negative socialisation skills in this #she went to boarding schools and etiquette lessons #she doesn't know how to...chat #so she tries to think of something to say to Gil every morning #but he's so good at respecting that she likes it quiet #too good at it #sometimes he'll say something and she'll reply #statement and statement #and then later she scolds herself for not realising he was trying to just talk to her like a normal person #poor dear #Karun nearly tipping Gil off that it took everything in her to ask about the cappuccino this morning #and she's like DAD get in here!!!#Karun is doing the w o r k #Thenamesh Hamptons AU

13 notes · View notes

july-19th-club · 1 year

Text

me age seven being sat down in front of the school’s district child psych lady and being given strange, simple spatial puzzles to solve and then long, complicated worksheets and hammering my way through them at the speed of light while having zero comprehension what their purpose was or why i was here: this is urgent! i have to get a good grade in Weird Puzzles, Or Else, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve,

#kjalkjsdalkjasdl mrs button was a nice lady but not one adult in my childhood ever seemed to notice what to me now seems like #a pretty obvious case of the autisms #then again maybe they just didn't look as hard unless it was *really* obvious back then . it was like. what. 2000? a couple years later #everybody was talking about autism but not when i was six or seven then it was usually just when it was Very Visible #a couple years later my cousin who's more visibly on the spectrum than me got her diagnosis so young that she's pretty much always had it #which is...well i think it's just made her life difficult in a different way. people underestimate her or don't treat her like she's her age #but then she's always had the opportunity to get accommodations and people are sometimes more forgiving when she can't do something #whereas i got labeled 'kid that should be ahead of the game' from a pretty young age and then when i struggled adults either ignored it #or it was just a huge hassle to them and even i could see it exasperated them to have to work around me #but because mrs button (nice lady but what were you thinking) hadn't told them to treat me like a kid with a developmental disorder #they didn't do that in good OR bad ways . so i never got any accommodations with school stuff i struggled with which was a fair bit #i wasn't supposed to need extra testing time in a quiet room or tutoring with math or help organizing my abysmally scattered things #the only time i DID get that was in sixth grade when i was sort-of friends with this kid jonathan who was Very On The Spectrum #he wasn't really a talker unless it was about whatever he was reading which suited me fine so we just kind of existed in each other's space #and his TSS was this very smart and nice lady who had clearly clocked that Something Was Going On With Me and even though it wasn't like #her JOB she made a little bit of time for me. mostly with emotional stuff (i think i was under the impression she was a therapist?)#but if i had some problem with being unable to keep friends or being frozen out by the kids i wanted to be liked by (happened often)#she'd be able to just like. be there she'd make the time . wish i could remember her name

57 notes · View notes

vigilvntes · 8 months

Text

gotham war is genuinely sending me into distress

#everyone be quiet liz is speaking #writers exploring how bruce is fundamentally flawed as a father is cool!!!!#but sometimes #SOMETIMES #i can't help but feel like they take it toooo far #it's like as soon as dc writers need a punching bag #they slowly turn and stare at jason todd #my poor sweet angel #it's so brutal #like i like this run but i also hate it at the same time because it's STRESSING ME OUT #i just want them all to be okay :(#and i hope they don't forgive bruce straight away for this #obviously i know it's not BRUCE but ...#he needs to stay away from them for a while

7 notes · View notes

healingheartdogs · 1 month

Text

People who don't know dog body language who have pushy sketchy dogs are so awful to be around. I told our housemates that their dog Klaus doesn't like me when we went out to watch the eclipse earlier today because I didn't want to go in the fenced yard with him out and they were like "oh no he's fine don't worry." When he saw me he charged up to the fence, high flagged tail, snorting and barking and jumping at the fence and they still were like "oh he's friendly, he just wants to smell you, see his tail is wagging". Like my dude... tail wagging does not mean friendly, and what about the noises he's making rn sounds friendly to you?

Selene's sister grabbed him and I thought she was going to take him inside because she acted like she was going to, but instead she stopped halfway and just held him back while I came into the yard and then let him go to run up and sniff me, which he had very stiff body language the entire time he did so. For a while after that he ignored me because of the kids calling him away and was chill, but still kept coming over and sniffing me occasionally and was very tense each time so I just tried to stay calm and sweet talk him and didn't try to touch him to help defuse the situation.

Then I walked a little away from the group to point out a plant in the yard to Selene's mom which was a mistake because once I was out of the little circle we were standing in he started body blocking me, tense face, stiff body, whale eyeing, and then jumping at me and barking. They tried to call him away and were like "oh he's just trying to get you to play, sorry he's so demanding of attention." I started trying to walk toward the gate to leave because he very much was NOT trying to get me to play and I did not feel confident in their ability to control him, and he immediately did it again. And again they tried to call him away. And I got maybe another two steps before he turned right back around and did it again. And they called him away again saying he was just trying to play. Rinse and repeat for a total of like six times of him body blocking me, tense and whale eyeing, and then jumping at me and barking. All while they're just laughing like "Sorry, Klaus just really loves playing". Dudes your dog is actually behaving aggressively toward me right now, please get control over him so I can leave he is NOT TRYING TO PLAY WITH ME.

This is the second time I've been invited into the yard while Klaus was out and the first time they kept telling me the same thing but he was actually following me around growling at me then and they were still like "oh it's just cuz he doesn't know you yet, he'll warm up to you, he's friendly". YOUR DOG IS SKETCHY. I DONT WANT TO INTERACT WITH HIM. HE DOESN'T LIKE ME. PLEASE JUST PUT HIM INSIDE WHEN I'M IN THE YARD WITH Y'ALL. And PLEASE learn some dog body language because nothing about his right now says "friendly" at all!!!!! Not even a little!!!! TAIL WAGGING DOES NOT MEAN FRIENDLY, ESPECIALLY A HIGH FLAGGED TAIL.

#i will not be going back into the yard while he is out #i only did this time because they made it seem like they were going to put him inside #but then didn't #i do not trust that dog #and they are oblivious and just laughing while he is actively menacing me #cant tell them shit about it though because they act like we're criticizing their parenting if we do and get offended #and then be like 'well your dogs are out of control so what do you know' because my dogs bark at strangers #like... okay your dog growls at and menaces strangers???? mine just bark at strangers who talk to them and try to rile them up #and i dont correct them for that because its not worth correcting and also not their fault #your dog is actually dangerous and you dont have control over him #my dogs are not dangerous and when i tell them to be quiet and get inside they do #so who doesnt have control huh????#theyre just mad because theyre the strangers my dogs bark at sometimes and since i dont like how they interact with my dogs i allow it #because they are rude as fuck and do not respect my dogs' boundaries at all #and think that dogs shouldnt be allowed to have boundaries because they should be 'kid safe“ which really means shut down from punishment #thats how they are with klaus which is a big part of why i dont trust him too #because they have created a dog who gets punished for setting boundaries so that the kids can 'safely' climb all over him and annoy him #and to me that is a recipe for a dog that doesnt give a lot of warning before becoming aggressive because hes been punished for it #i do not trust dogs who have been punished for having boundaries #and i dont trust their owners either #also them doing that means their kids think they can do whatever they want to dogs and interact very rudely with them #so i dont let their kids interact with my dogs at all now because even with me constantly correcting them they ignore me and are rude #and that definitely is something theyre also salty about because their kids want to play with my dogs #and they also want my dogs to play with Klaus and there is mo way in hell I'd allow that which they also dont like #hes an intact bully who they have admitted can be 'really fiesty' with other dogs #and Hermes is an intact male who seems to have a 'kick me“ sign on him for other dogs and i just wont risk it #and it drives them crazy that i dont trust their strange dog not to be aggressive to my dogs and wont let them all be 'friends'#DOGS DONT NEED TO BE FRIENDS WITH STRANGE DOGS THEY DONT KNOW OR LIVE WITH #I hate ignorant pet owners that make their ignorance my problem #rant

4 notes · View notes