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collecting-stories · 4 years

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Thanksgiving - ep. 04 - Georgia

Summary: It’s Thanksgiving in King County and you won’t let Daryl celebrate alone.

A/N: I’m really going for the slowburn this time.

Georgia Masterlist | The Walking Dead Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

“Nice backpack,” Rick laughed, picking the bright yellow backpack up from the lawn chair.

“It ain’t mine.” He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette.

Rick had come over for beers. An odd night off from work without the academy in the morning he had decided to stop ‘round at Daryl’s. It was already dark out when he’d pulled up outside his best friend’s house and Daryl was working on a jeep by the light of the carport. When he walked up he’d spotted the backpack sitting there, an odd contrast to anything else lying around.

“Didn’t think it was.” Rick replied, “so who’s the girl?”

“Don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout.”

“There’s a Jeep in your driveway and some girl’s backpack in your truck.” Rick pointed out, “you know, I’m a cop, I’m trained to notice these things.”

“Ya ain’t a cop yet.” Daryl muttered, heading over to the fridge and grabbing a beer.

“So?”

“I’m fixing someone’s car and she left her bag. That’s all.”

Daryl had realized that you left your backpack there after he drove you home on Sunday night. He’d gotten all the way back home when he saw your bright yellow backpack sitting on the floor of his truck. He had called you when he got inside. He felt stupid, standing in the kitchen with the phone pressed to his ear, waiting for you to answer like he was some dumb high school kid.

You had answered after the second ring, “Hello?”

“Hey...it’s Daryl, ya left yer bag in my truck.”

“Oh my gosh...I totally did, didn’t I? I'm so sorry.”

“It’s alright. Ya want me ta drop it off?” He asked.

“Are you at the garage tomorrow morning? Glenn is driving me to school, we could stop and I could grab it?” You asked, unsure how else you were going to get the backpack. You couldn’t leave now that you were home or your mom would get suspicious. She knew Maggie was grounded and there was no way she’d let you out after dark to hang out with Glenn or Tara or Rosita.

“Yeah I’ll be there.”

Somehow the bright yellow monstrosity had ended up back in Daryl’s possession. It wasn’t much of a mystery though. You had stopped, just like you said you would, before school in the morning. While you were there you had mentioned getting the second payment to him that afternoon. Part of that agreement somehow involved driving you from school to the diner where your bag had once again been forsaken in his truck.

Now he had to figure out how to get it to you all over again and Rick was trying to rifle through it. “Would ya quit that?” Daryl grumbled, grabbing the bag and putting it back in his truck. He had set it on the chair so he didn’t forget it but Rick was bothering him.

“I just wanna know who she is,” Rick replied. “College student.”

“I told ya I’m just fixing a car.”

“Please tell me she’s at least 18 D.”

“It ain’t like that.” Daryl slammed the truck door shut and glared at him, face flush at the accusation that he thought of you in a way that wasn’t just a client. “I’m fixing a car.”

“Alright.”

It had taken Rick getting a call from his mom to swing by for dinner to finally get him to leave Daryl’s house. Not that Daryl wanted to be rid of him, with Merle in prison for the next six months Rick was the only other friend he had. He did want to return your backpack though and he figured it was worth stopping at the diner to see if you were there. You were always telling him how you worked all the time and while he wasn’t sure if you really did or if you were exaggerating he thought it was worth a shot, plus he assumed you would need it for school. Axel, Tiny, Dale, and even T-Dog weren’t strangers to the diner but you had never seen Daryl come in before so you were surprised when you saw him walk through the door.

“Hey!” When you saw the backpack in his hands you smiled, “I’m so sorry.”

“Ya say that but yer smiling." He replied, setting it on one of the stools and sitting down beside it.

“I’m honestly sorry.” You insisted, though it wasn’t truthful in the slightest. All you could really feel was happy that he had gone out of his way to bring the bag back to you. “Can I get you anything? On the house.”

It was pretty dead at 9pm on a Monday night. Most people weren’t out so late in King County. Daryl took the menu off the counter and opened it, looking through the options. “I’ll have some coffee.”

“Okay,” you poured him a cup and went to give another patron their meal. When you came back Daryl was still looking through the menu. “Are you still free on Thursday?”

“Why?” He asked, “what’s Thursday?”

“Thanksgiving.”

“I got work in the morning.” He replied, “Probably won’t work on the car honestly.”

“No, I wasn’t asking for that. I was wondering if you wanted to come around for dinner. Patricia has a bunch of people at the diner for a big Thanksgiving dinner. Like the Greene’s and Dale usually comes.”

“Yah, I don’t think so.” The last thing Daryl needed was to show up somewhere he knew he wouldn’t be welcome. He knew the invitation was innocent, you were just trying to be nice, but he didn’t need to embarrass himself by hanging around more than he was welcome.

“Okay, well, if you change your mind I’m making apple pie.”

Unsurprisingly, Daryl did not change his mind. He spent his thanksgiving the way he did every year, drinking beer and watching the game on TV because it was all that was on. Will bailed on anything Thanksgiving related almost as soon as he woke up, leaving for a bar over in Woodbury. Daryl had grilled a steak but otherwise he had skipped out on dinner.

He was almost asleep on the old laz-e-boy when a knock on the side door startled him awake. Rick never stopped by on Thanksgiving and there was only one other person he could think of that would come by his house.

“Ya know when someone declines an offer to see ya that don’t mean ya need to come by.” He said, leaning in the door and blocking you from coming inside. You looked kind of adorable, a corduroy brown pinafore dress and cream turtleneck.

“I know but I come bearing apple pie.” You bartered, holding up the wrapped up pie dish.

“A’ight, come on.” Daryl moved aside to let you in.

“That was easier than I thought.”

“I know ya well enough ta know ya ain’t just gonna leave if I ask.”

“You are correct.” You smiled. You eyed the beer cans sitting on the coffee table, “having a party?”

“Something like that.” He took the pie dish from you and set it on the coffee table before heading into the kitchen in search of clean utensils. You sat down the couch, looking around the Dixon’s home. The TV was sitting on an entertainment system that looked seconds from falling apart, the carpet was stained with cigarette ash and other substances.

“This is...”

“Its a piece a shit.” Daryl replied, walking into the living room and sitting down beside you. “How was yer Thanksgiving?”

“It was alright...Maggie’s not talking to her dad so that was kinda awkward. I sat at the kids table with Beth and Sean.” You said, “better than sitting with the adults. Anyway, I told you I was making pie and I didn’t want you to miss out because, honest to god, I make the best apple pie in Georgia.”

Daryl nodded, more interested in the pie than in who you sat with at dinner. The last time he had apple pie he was probably seven and his mom had bought it premade from the grocery store because he had begged for it. “Ain’t got anything to weigh it against.” He finally said, scooping up some with his fork and taking a bite.

You held your fork in your hand, waiting for a reaction. Daryl had terrible eating habits. He ate too fast and didn’t pay attention to whether the food was going completely in his mouth all the time. Growing up in a house with Merle and Will hadn’t exactly instilled strong table manners in him. Mostly they ate their meals at the TV, on fold out tables or the coffee table or he ate in the camper away from his dad. The last time they used a kitchen table it had been in their old house before his mom died.

“Good?” You chanced while he ate.

He hummed around a mouthful. You took a bite and smiled. Last year you had almost messed it up with the wrong apples but this year it was perfect.

“Yer good at this.”

“Baking?”

“Yeah. Can’t cook anything if it ain’t on a grill.”

“You might be able to make an apple pie on a grill...I’ve never tried.” You teased and he smiled just enough that you caught it.

“Where do your parents think you are?” He asked, getting up and grabbing a beer from the kitchen fridge.

“Tara’s. Can I have one?”

“No.”

“Oh come on. I’m almost 18.”

“I ain’t giving ya alcohol. Last thing I need is some girl going home drunk from here.” He replied.

“I won’t be drunk! I can drink like, a whole case of Zima before I get drunk.”

“That shit’s disgusting.”

“Oh I’m sorry, your Pabst is so great.” You sassed. Daryl rolled his eyes and held the can out to you, the one he’d just been drinking from. You took it, downing as much of a gulp as you could stand and imagining that you could maybe taste him on it. But the taste of the cheap beer won out and you nearly gagged as it went down, “that’s disgusting.”

“Gets ya drunk.”

“Are you?”

“Right now, no.” Though he wasn’t totally sober. If he was he would have never let you in his house. “Most a those are my dad’s. Had ‘em ‘fore he left for the bar.” He said, dropping onto the couch beside you.

“I think this is the most we’ve ever had a conversation.” You pointed out.

Daryl nodded and grinned, “maybe I am drunk.”

The next morning, as Daryl stepped out of the 7-11 with a pack of cigarettes and a coffee, he caught sight of you standing at the driver’s side of his truck and fixing your hair in the sideview mirror. You had stayed longer than you intended the night before; long enough that you had to call Glenn to pick you up because Daryl refused to drive you home after drinking.

“Ya gonna pump my gas for me.” He asked and you spun around, smiling.

“I can. But it’ll cost you.”

“I’ll tell ya what,” Daryl picked up the gas nozzle and placed it in the truck, trapping you between him and the hose, “I’ll give ya the pie plate back.”

“Deal.” You turned slightly and reached for the nozzle, putting your hand over his, “but I’m only doing this because my mom already asked about the pie plate. Now move it, this is my job.”

You caught the slightest smile as he pulled his hand away and held them both up in mock surrender. He leaned against the driver’s door and took a sip of his coffee while he watched the numbers on the screen. “Ya working today?”

“Yeah, Lori wouldn’t clock me in early cause she’s on some power trip. Patricia left her in charge and she said I was trying to steal hours from Amy, she’s new, but I’m not. I don’t care about Amy or her hours.” You replied.

“Yes or no woulda worked.” He teased.

“I’m gonna think of the most long winded ways to answer your questions from now on. Just to annoy the hell outta ya.”

“Ya already do.”

“I do not! You love hanging out with me.”

He hummed and reached around you to grab the nozzle, clicking off the handle so the gas flow would stop but keeping you trapped. “There ya go. Pie plate is yours.”

“Thanks.”

He was slow to step away, almost reluctant, “I’ll see ya ‘round.”

“Okay.”

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years

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here it is! the first part of UTCM!

wc: 4.8k

taglist | story masterlist

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

With clothes flying across the room, trying to make each article of clothing land in the target of a rectangle, you rummage through your closet, trying to find the specific piece of your most treasured clothing.

One that meant something special to you.

As you dig through your drawer, trying to find the thick, vintage tee your dad had given you (more like you stole it and never gave it back), your hand finally feels the familiar material that has brought you comfort and lots of compliments if you do say so yourself.

With a proud ‘bingo’ escaping your lips, you’re not surprised that it’s the only shirt you folded and gently put into your suitcase. You looked around your room, finding the hurricane of clothing sprawled out on the floor and your bikini top on your lap shade. Laughing a bit, you drop to your knees and begin to pick up your clothes, stuffing it into the suitcase.

You check the time and see that it’s five minutes to 9 AM and your phone rings on your bedside table, knowing you’re behind schedule. You quickly grab your phone, placing it between your shoulder and your ear, and continue grabbing your clothes.

“Yellow?”

“Honey, quit answering the phone like that.” You take the phone from your shoulder and put it at arms reach before sighing, knowing you should’ve looked at the caller ID.

“Hello, mother. How are you on this fine morning?” Your voice changes from playful to proper tone only to tease her.

“Oh, quit it. I was just calling to see if you were all packed and ready.”

“Yup!” You say confidently, looking around your room as it says otherwise. Obviously, packing wasn’t your greatest talent.

It was your best friend’s parent’s anniversary. Minny has informed you a month ago, knowing that you would procrastinate on packing, and to be fair, she was right. Packing wasn’t your favorite, and she knew that. Aww, my best friend knows me so well.

You and Minny have been best friends since you were 7. You two met at school and were in the same class. Because of the two’s last names being right next to each other on the roll call, you were assigned to sit right next to her. Throughout the years in school, you had always remained close. Sure, you two have met other people and became friends with them, but nothing came as close as the bond you have with her.

It was 20 years of eating at lunch together, never missing a day. Sleepovers. Day and night calls to gossip or vent. Laughs. Petty arguments. Crying over stupid boys and girls that broke your heart. Monthly ‘glo the fuck up’ day. Jogging in the park. Living life. And most importantly, love.

Damn, we’re getting old.

“I’m sad I can’t make it to Dan and Lina’s anniversary trip.” Your mother sighed over the phone.

Yours and Minny’s family had practically become one big family when you both turned 10. With occasional sleepovers and meet ups at the mall, your parents had become really great friends with hers.

“I know, Mom. But you practically see them everyday, so it’s fine. They understand why.” You try reasoning out with her.

“I hope so.” She sighs sadly on the phone, and it makes your heart hurt.

“They do understand. Trust me.”

“I wish you were here-” She immediately cuts off.

“Mom, I can go with you. I don’t have to go on Dan and Lina’s trip. Let me call Minny so I can tell her to not come by.”

“No, no!” You pause. “Please, don’t miss out on having fun for me. I want you to have fun. You deserve it.” You nod, even though she can’t see you. You check the time, and know you’re running out of time to finish packing.

“You deserve it too, Mom.” She doesn’t say anything, but you know she’s smiling on the other side of the call.

“Hey, Mom. I gotta go. Minny is almost here to pick me up, so I just wanna double check everything.”

“Of course, honey. I’ll call Lina later. Say hi to Minny for me. I love you.”

“Will do. I love you too.” The door knocks once you hang up the call. Curses scolding yourself for being so lazy and procrastinating fly from your lips as you get the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” The last person you were expecting was seeing your ex boyfriend on your doorstep with keys in his hand. He wore rust color corduroy pants, a stripe shirt, and a turquoise jacket that’s stitched on the side. His hair was pushed back by his black sunglasses and he was wearing his pearl necklace. You hate to admit that he looks good and can possibly rock anything he wore, and you despised him for that along with other reasons.

“Wow. No, hi or how are you Harry? I’m doing great, thanks for asking.” He says sarcastically and you roll your eyes, walking back to your room to finish packing. “Well, I see you’re still not that great with organizing your time, or your clothes.” You don’t say anything because you really don’t want to speak to him at the moment, or at all. “I’m assuming Minny didn’t tell you.” Your eyes perk up into confusion.

“Minny didn’t tell me what?” You ask, continuing to fold the last pair of clothes.

“She asked me to pick you up. You know, to take you to the lake house.” If it were possible, steam was coming out of your ears. Why hadn’t Minny told you? You huff loudly for Harry to know that you’re clearly annoyed before grabbing your phone and immediately dialing Minny’s number, and waiting for her to pick up.

Harry looks around your room, seeing as things haven't changed with you, and you want to kick him out as soon as you're done talking to Minny.

“Hey, girl! Are you on your way?” Her voice is high and she clearly is not prepared for what you’re about to give her.

“How can you have Harry pick me up? And why didn’t you tell me that you couldn’t pick me up?”

“Clearly, you’re the best at greeting people anymore.” Harry says, leaning against the door frame as he wears a smirk, and you immediately flick him off. He puts his hand on his chest with an exaggerated jaw drop, pretending to be offended.

“I’m so sorry. I meant to tell you, I promise. But my dumbass of a brother decided to come last minute because his plans got cancelled, and so we were all rushing out the door and putting everything in the car.” You hear Minny’s brother, Jackson, say ‘hey!’ and you sigh.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Not wanting to be annoyed anymore, you brush it off.

“I can find someone else to pick me up, no worries.” Harry raises his hands up as if he’s saying ‘I’m literally here to pick you up.’

“No! Just take the ride from Harry. After all, he is staying at the house too.” Your eyes widen.

“What?! Why would you invite him?”

“You know, you’re doing a lot of talking like I’m not here in the room right now.” You mouth ‘shut up’ to him.

“Please, just go with him. We’re almost there anyways and I don’t want you guys to be late because you want to be difficult. Just ride with him. It’s only like a 3 hour drive and you can sleep on the way, and then not talk to him for the rest of the trip.” She persuades.

Minny was always good at persuading people. In college, both of you were commuting from home and didn’t stay at the dorms, so you didn’t know that many people, especially not in the frat or sorority houses. She had convinced her parents that they needed a weekend to get out of the house and take a nice getaway trip, laying out the pros and cons so she can throw a party. And they really thought her pros outweigh the cons.

“Ugh! Okay, fine.”

“Thank you! Love you! Bye!” She gets off the phone quickly, and you turn to Harry.

“Shall we get on the road?” He smiles. You were finally finished with packing and rolled your luggage to the front, ignoring him. He comes out of your room with your bikini top in his hand, and your eyes widen, forgetting to take it from the lampshade. “Think you forgot this.” He holds it up and you snatch it quickly. And you’re both out the door and possibly going on the worst trip.

Two weeks and I’ll be home.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

Two hours down. One more to go.

The entirety of the car ride had been filled with awkwardness and silence. If music hadn’t been playing, you were sure you were going to explode. Harry had asked you if you were alright about a million times or if you were too hot or cold. You kept your responses to a minimum, replying with ‘yeah, I’m good’ or ‘I’m okay’. Harry was gripping the steering wheel so tight, that he was sure his hand would cramp up when he tried to unlatch. The tension and awkwardness was getting to him. He hated that things had ended up like this between the two of you, but he was willing to change that. He wants to change that.

“R. E. D.” He says suddenly after minutes of not talking, and just listening to the sound of the music and the engine of the car.

“Pardon?” You turn to face him.

“C’mon, you don’t remember the game we used to play when we would go on road trips?” He asks hopefully, looking at you quickly before turning his head back on the road.

Of course you remember. Hours on the road with him, going to the next destination when he was on tour or outside of the city to get away from everything, led you both to play road trip games that included saying 3 random letters and finding it on a license plate. It’s what made traveling fun and the hours on the road much more interesting. Especially with Harry.

“Yeah, I remember.” You say softly, not showing emotion.

“Okay, well, start looking.”

“You weren’t very good at this game.” You say, but quickly close your mouth, not realizing that you’re thinking out loud.

And Harry’s surprised. He knows that your comment was a teasing one, and he was worried that he would t get a single sentence out of your mouth without you yelling in his face. “I’m very good at this game!”

“I mean, considering that my board was filled with tallies, then I would think you’re bad at it.” You let out a chuckle and Harry has a big smile on his face, thinking it’ll hurt his cheeks later on.

“You literally gave me impossible letters to work with!”

“They’re license plates, not people’s names!” You tease.

“Just look for R.E.D!” He ends the conversation. Although he didn’t want to, he knew that you’re most likely going to blow up in his face if you two acted like a happy couple again. He knew that you would overthink about the bad things overlapping the good, and you would go back to resenting him.

And he was right.

After he ended the conversation, you were thinking about what could’ve been between you; what could still be if he weren’t an asshole. The laughs and teasing you two had just a minute ago were replaced with deep breaths, not knowing if one of you should say a thing again.

There were only a few cars on the same road for you; going to different places. You wondered if people going on a road trip had the same situation with you and Harry: the sharp tension that can be cut like a knife or wanting to jump out of the car.

You must have blanked out for a while because Harry had gotten off the highway and onto a secluded street that leads to the lake house.

The drive through the woods with high boulders and tall trees had you speechless. You got as close to the window as possible, looking up like you’ve just seen a shooting star. Nature has always been such a fascination to you. You’ve always loved camping trips and hiking; so much that you’re currently an environmental scientist.

You don’t notice with your head practically sticking out the window, but Harry is having such a hard time keeping his eyes on the road. He thinks that it’s admirable how passionate you are, especially about nature and animals because it’s rare that people end up doing what they love. And he loves seeing you so passionate about what you love.

The drive surrounded by the forest didn’t take long; about 20 minutes, and Harry had already pulled up into the gravel driveway in front of the lake house.

The famous lake house that Lina and Dan have owned for 30 years; ever since they got married. It was a rather large lake house; able to fit two families of four. With brown wood hammered onto the sides and evergreen border along the windows, the house was generally very comfortable and homey. They had kept renovating throughout the years to keep up with the times changing, and they’re loving how modern it looks as of now, but very welcoming at the same time.

“Well, we’re finally here.” Harry says, cutting off the ignition and getting out of the car. You do the same as well and meet him where the truck is popped open, Harry grabbing his bags. You went to reach for it, but Harry slaps your hand away.

“Hey!”

“Don’t worry about the bags. I got them.”

“Thanks.” You give him a soft smile.

“And besides, you’ve packed for like a month when we’re gonna be here for two weeks, and you were barely able to carry it out of your house.” He teases.

“For a matter of fact, I happen to be very strong.” You cross your arms.

“Okay, whatever you say, Captain.” The pet name slipped out. When you and Harry were together, he started calling you Captain because sometimes you can be so aggressive and demanding, but passionate, that it felt like you were the Captain of the ship, which technically you were. You were always in charge, always right, and always planning everything. Captain just stuck, and he thought it was so perfect for you.

The pet name had definitely startled you. You haven’t heard that name come from his lips in forever. And admittingly, you missed it. But you don’t tell him that, of course.

Harry notices your shock and just smiles instead of pushing it. He instead walks towards the car once his hands are full.

“Hey, Harry?” He could’ve sworn that his head got jumbled up at your call for him because of how fast he turned around.

“Yes?”

“R.E.D.” You pointed towards Minny’s car with a smirk on your face. Harry looks at her license plate and his jaw drops, but you see the corners of his lips turn up.

“How did you-”

“You think I don’t know my best friend’s license plate when she’s had this car for 4 years?” Your smile is amusing and Harry has missed this side from you.

“Well done.” He drops the bags and starts clapping.

“Make sure to mark my tally.” You walk past him and towards the house. Harry turns around, watching you walk. Specifically landing his eyes on your hips and watching them sway like you own the fucking world. It’s endearing and he loves it. He loves how sometimes you can walk the whole universe and own it, but he always loves how you shy away from things and look for reassurance. He loves it.

You don’t turn around because with the smile and hint of blush that crept onto your face, it’s bound to be a disaster if he sees it.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” He chuckles before picking up the bags and following your footsteps.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

The inside of the house was opposite of what it looked like from the outside. While the outside was rustic and dark looking, the inside was light and provided very much needed natural lighting due to the big window that overlooks the lake. Sun shines bright through the window and into the house that it almost hurts to look out, but that’s Mother Nature at her finest.

You head up to your usual bedroom that you claimed when you were younger, having taken trips to this house for so many years that your feet just subconsciously took you to your room.

It remained the same: big window that led to a small balcony, wooden frame bed, and a mattress that is the perfect size and comfort for you. The walls were white, and with the light coming through, it made the room look even bigger.

Usually you and Minny would sleep in the same room, but there were enough rooms so you two can have your own. But there were some nights where you would spend the night with her, and her, you.

You hadn’t noticed Harry following you to your room, but when you hear bags drop onto the floor, you jump and turn around. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to. Thought you heard me following you.”

“No, I didn’t. I was just distracted with my thoughts.”

Harry leans against the door frame and crosses his arms. “What about?” He asks curiously.

“Just… haven’t been here in a while, and I miss it.” He only nods, and it quickly goes back to silence. “Thank you for bringing my bags up.” This time, he smiles.

“Not a problem. Let me know if you need anything else, Captain.” You chuckle.

“Will do.” He leaves your room and shuts the door close, knowing you’d probably want to settle in and change into more lounge clothing.

You sit on your bed, facing the window, and look out at the lake. You don’t know what you’re feeling. Before you saw him today, you would just get mad that you’re thinking about him, but that car ride broke every anger that clung onto your body. It was like your mind naturally reacted to Harry in a way that you couldn’t control. You can control anything else, but not with Harry. You naturally felt a pull towards him, and no matter how much you wanted to cut off the string you couldn’t.

You had definitely missed the feeling of being around him, and that makes you angry. Angry at yourself because he hurt you.

You try not to cry with the thoughts swirling in your head. You take in the beautiful view from your bedroom and tell yourself that you shouldn’t be sad because you’ve got a long trip ahead of you.

As you changed into your lounge clothes, you headed downstairs to greet the family that was just back from the backyard.

“Oh, sweetheart! I’m so happy you’re here!” Lina greets you with a warm hug. Dan does the same, giving you a bear hug.

“Happy anniversary! How are you guys?” You ask the married couple.

“We’re doing great! I’m excited this time has come again! We’ve got so much planned.” You smile at their excitement. They turned to look at each other and you can’t help but admire their love for one another, even after all these years.

Yours and Minny’s parents’ love was like no other. You were pretty blessed to grow up around healthy relationships, and can’t help but feel so fond of the love they have for each other and wanting it for yourself.

“The kids are still outside.” Lina kisses your cheek and Dan pats your shoulder before they head to the kitchen.

You walk through the glass slide door that leads to the stunning view of the water that the sun reflects onto. You take a deep inhale in, breathing in the world’s scent. The outside is such a beauty that some people take it for granted.

“Ahh!” The famous screams come from no other than Minny. “You’re here!” She runs to you and you engulf her into a big and hard hitting hug. Jackson also hugs you and runs his hand on top of your head, messing up your hair.

“Dickhead!” You slap his chest.

“How are you, other little sister?”

“Oh, you know, here.” You say, not knowing what to say, so ‘here’ is usually your backup for not really wanting to say how you feel.

Minny rolls her eyes, knowing you all too well for your liking. “How was the drive?”

“It was…interesting.”

“Well, that’s my cue to go.” Jackson walks back to the house, and leaves Minny and I to talk.

“Was it that bad?” Minny asks worriedly.

“No, it wasn’t bad. It was just awkward and there was tension between us. But then we started playing our famous road trip game and I started teasing him, and ugh! I smiled and laughed a little and I hated it.” You huffed and looked down.

“What, why?”

“I-I don’t know. I just… I was expecting to have the worst trip when he showed up at my doorstep, but my mind is taking over.”

“Your mind or your heart?” Minny tests. You don’t reply. You just look at her, not knowing if she genuinely wanted a response or she was just testing you.

“Why did you invite him?” You ask at the wrong time because you don’t hear the sliding door open, revealing Harry.

“Hey, Minny.” He smiles softly at her and steps out of the house to hug her. Your breath was hitched in your throat, feeling guilty about your question because you didn’t hear him.

“Hey, Harry.” She smiles back and hugs him. Once they let go of their embrace, Harry turns to you.

“If you don’t want me here so bad, then the Captain shall be obeyed.” He teases, but you know that he’s more hurt than what he puts on. He puts on a brave face, but really you see it in his eyes that he’s hurt. You know that your question had hurt him and it was just the wrong timing to ask that.

“I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Didn’t you?” His head turns slightly, knowing he’s trying to keep his annoyance intact. His voice is different and sarcastic. Minny senses the shift of tension, so she breaks it.

“I invited him because he’s been my friend as long as you have, so he’s practically family too. He’s been to every trip as well, and besides, my parents love him.” She places her arm on Harry’s shoulder, and you can’t help but feel like they’re teaming up against you. Harry walks ahead of us and goes inside while you and Minny trail behind him. You know you shouldn’t think of it like that because they’re not, but you feel like such a downer once you found out that Harry was tagging along. “Let’s go in and eat lunch!” Minny changes the subject, feeling like that’s what they really needed. “By the way, which letters did he ask for?” Minny asks.

“R.E.D,” you smile amusingly and roll your eyes, giving your best friend the ‘I know right?’ look. She laughs loudly, throwing her head back and clutching her stomach.

“Well that was an easy win for you.” She says and you nod, before putting an arm around your shoulder, walking inside the house for lunch.

Lina had prepared salad, homemade garlic bread, Brussel sprouts, and mashed potatoes. Dan had cooked his famous ribs, one that was his specialty ever since he was a young adult. They didn’t want to cook right when they got to the house, so they prepared it beforehand and took it with them.

The six sat down at the table that was set in front of the window. Dan at the end of the table, Lina on his right, Minny right next to Lina, you on the other end, Harry next to you, and Jackson next to Harry. Everyone was loading food on their plates before passing it around or across the table, Lina making sure everyone got one of each.

“Alright, eat up!”

The conversation flowed throughout the table. The parents asked the kids how work was going, to which everyone responded that it was going well.

“Harry, honey, is your mom and sister planning to stay as well?” Lina asks.

Harry clears his throat and wipes his mouth before replying, “they might come at the end of the week—probably the weekend. Gems couldn’t get out of work, so they’ll only stay for a few days.” She nodded and turned to you.

“Has your mother changed her mind? About coming?” She gives you a sympathetic look.

“I don’t think so. She said she would call you later.” Lina smiles at that. Your eyes naturally gravitated towards Harry and he has a confused look on his face looking back at you, but you look down at your plate before picking up your ribs and taking a bite out of them.

You listen to the conversation while you eat; Dan telling the table a story about a cliff diving incident that happened to Lina when they were in Greece, and the whole table was laughing their ass off, even though they’ve heard it a million times; it never gets old.

You finished your rib and set it down on your plate before wiping your hands down, and before you went to wipe your lips, you felt a napkin, one that’s not yours, wipe your cheek. You turn and see Harry trying to get the stained sauce from your skin.

“Thank you.” You say awkwardly once he’s done, and he gives you a smile followed by a chuckle. He didn’t mean to do that. He knew you were a messy eater and it was a habit that he wiped stuff off your face. A habit that worked well for the both of you, like you were a team. A natural born team.

Once everyone was finished with lunch, it was nearing 2 p.m already, and the group decided to split and do whatever they please as they were going to be all together tomorrow and the rest of the trip.

After everyone helped clean up the table and kitchen, you decided to take a nap before watching the sun set for the day.

Your body hit the mattress and soft pillows that made you feel like you were on a cloud. The room was dark, thanks to the thick curtains that hung from the metal rod. The only light that was shown was a strip of it coming from the curtain not being able to close all the way. You snuggled your pillow, happy you’re finally getting some rest after a long day.

When you woke up, it was still light out, but not as sunny as it was prior to your nap. You stretched your limbs out, relieving the feeling of any tense muscles from your sleep, and walked downstairs and to the backyard.

“Good nap?” Harry says from the lawn chair that is set on the grass. You rub your eyes, nodding while closing the sliding door. There’s a vacant seat next to him, and you’re not quite sure if you want to sit next to him or watch the sun disappear when your feet are in the water. “Want to sit here?” He asks as if he read your mind.

“I-”

“I can see that you’re debating if you want to sit next to me or not, so I can leave and you can sit here if you want.” He says, and you feel bad a bit. He already thinks that you don’t want him here, and he’s simply here for Lina and Dan.

“It’s okay. You can stay. I’m just going to go by the water.” He only nods and you walk away.

The water softly hits the shore and you feel the coldness of it hit your feet. It’s refreshing and cooling, hoping it’ll cool down your nerves and your mood.

You cross your arms as you watch the sun slowly begin to set. The fascination you have with the sun is like no other. It reminds you of the feeling of hope and a new beginning; how the sun setting resembles the end of a story, a day. And tomorrow is a new day.

You can’t help but think about your situation with Harry and how it’s hypocritical to be talking about a new story when you’ve been clinging onto his story. You feel a little stressed keeping the grudge and anger towards him bottled up because he hurt you bad, but you’re also still in love with him.

As the sky turned from light to dark, you turned around to go inside, and to see if Harry was still sitting on the chair. But when you’re walking away from the water and towards the house, you see the chair empty, and you don't know why you have a sad feeling in your chest.

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andcontemplation · 3 years

Text

Old Friends, New Lives

Joyce Byers saw a ghost. Right there in the produce section of the supermarket.

Across the display of crated oranges, hovering over the bulk bins, Jim Hopper had caught her eye. She stopped in her tracks and gasped. It was clear by the shock written all over her face that she wasn’t expecting to see him.

“What are you doing here?”

The words tumbled out of her before she bit down on her bottom lip so hard, there was no way she didn’t taste blood, and her eyes went wide. She blinked once, twice, and gave her head a little shake. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing -- was it really him?

“Getting groceries for my mom,” Hopper gave a half shrug. “What does it look like?”

He waved the list at her as if to convince her that yes -- he was indeed real, and it wasn’t really a big deal. Not like she hadn’t seen him in just a smidge over two years.

843 days to be precise… not like either of them was keeping count.

A smirk tugged the corners of his mouth at the sight of her floundering above the mixed nuts, but he fought it. She was still so cute when she was flustered, and to be honest, he was enjoying making her squirm—just a bit.

Joyce just shook her head impatiently.

“No, I meant, what are you doing here? At home. We weren’t expecting you…”

Hopper glanced at his list and grabbed a box of oranges for his basket.

“I’m on R n’ R. Uncle Sam let me come home for a few weeks before my next tour.”

Joyce continued to shake her head, moving from impatience into disbelief. Or maybe hurt? Anger. Sadness.

She blinked back what looked like tears and nearly choked on her next words.

“And you didn’t think to call? Or write?”

“Well, I was going to…” Hopper shrugged again, wondering how much longer he could keep up this charade of not-giving-a-fuck. Then he reminded himself that he kinda had a reason to be distant and cold with her.

“So why didn’t you?” she asked.

Joyce shifted her weight, and even though he couldn’t see it, he knew she had her hands on her hips behind the display. He couldn’t meet her gaze, so he glanced around the store, at the walnuts on sale, at a young family passing by pushing their baby in a shopping cart. Looking anywhere but at her.

“Didn’t think it was right to hit up someone else old lady at Christmastime,” he muttered after a second.

Joyce sighed deeply, and it drew his attention back to her.

She was staring at him, in earnest or exasperation, he couldn’t tell. Her eyes drifted over him as if taking in his image just in case it was the last time she might see him again. It didn’t feel like much had changed since they’d seen each other last. Sure, his messy, dirty blonde mop was now cropped high and tight, and the old button-down flannel he’d got from his closet didn’t quite fit him like it used to just a few years ago back in high school. He’d bulked up from his time in the army and lost some of that boyish charm and innocence somewhere along the way to the jungles of Vietnam, and maybe she could see that too.

She was staring into his soul now. As much as he might’ve been hurt, she was hurt too, maybe even worse. If that was even possible.

“We’re still friends, Hop,” she said, finally.

“Are we?”

Joyce nodded, her cheeks flushed. She looked down for a long moment, and when she raised her head again, he swore she looked just a little bit guilty.

“Yeah,” she said. “We are.”

Then she stepped around the bulk bin, out from behind the crates of Christmas oranges and into the open where he could see now why she might feel guilty. Just a bit.

Hopper knew about the wedding. He didn’t know about this...

Joyce pushed her cart to the side and walked closer to him, fully aware it was his turn to stare now. Her left hand fell to her belly self-consciously, and Hopper didn’t know what hurt worse: the flash of a modest gold ring on her finger under the harsh fluorescent lights or the graceful swell of the child growing inside her.

She was glowing with her rosy cheeks, dark hair pulled up high in a bouncy ponytail, and a blue corduroy jumper dress that flattered in her condition. Motherhood looked surprisingly good on her, and Hopper struggled with the emotions bubbling up inside; that it wasn’t him who put her in the family way instead.

“Christ, look at you,” was all he managed to get out, his hardened exterior slowly starting to melt away.

Joyce heaved a sigh and leaned against the bins.

“Yeah.”

Hopper’s heart sank at the verbal confirmation that what he was seeing was the god awful truth. He cleared his throat and tried to talk over the lump forming there.

“I heard from Mom that you and Lonnie…”

He couldn’t finish. He didn’t want to think about the fact her new last name was now Byers.

“Yeah,” Joyce said again, looking sorry. “I wanted to tell you. I just… didn’t know how.”

Hopper just shook his head.

“How-- I mean… When are you… due?”

“Any day now.”

Hopper rocked back on his heels, searching for something more to say than abject stammering. The emotions were getting the best of him.

“He treating you good?”

“Yeah,” Joyce breathed, a happy grin creeping up on her lips. “Never thought I’d say that. But Lon’s been really sweet on me since he found out he’s gonna be a dad. It was even his idea to get hitched,” she said, trailing off, “I wanted to wait…”

Anger and jealousy won, and Hopper’s lip curled, despite himself.

“Didn’t wait very long, huh?”

He only sort of regretted saying it the second Joyce’s grin vanished.

“Well, good for Lonnie,” Hopper continued, trying his best not to sound too sarcastic. “Never pegged him for the marrying kind.”

The color disappeared from her cheeks then, too. Joyce set her jaw and glared.

“At least he stays true to his commitments. Unlike some people.”

Hopper rolled his eyes.

“Yes. Clearly, Lonnie knows where his priorities lie. Like sending his pregnant wife out to get groceries for Christmas dinner right when she’s about ready to pop.”

Joyce gripped her shopping cart and pulled it towards her in defiance.

“Well… a wife’s responsibility is running the house, you know.”

“Not when you’re as big as a house.”

Hopper realized what he said as it left his mouth, and he had never felt more regret in his twenty short years on Planet Earth.

“Excuse me?”

“Whatever happened to women’s lib?” Hopper tried to backpedal. “I thought you were all for getting women out of the house…”

“I am nine months pregnant, Jim Hopper--”

“I just meant you shouldn’t be on your feet right--”

But Joyce refused to hear him.

“I cannot believe you! That is the rudest--”

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

He cut her off, raising his voice, causing the nearby shoppers to stop and gawk at the trouble brewing next to a case of apples and oranges.

“You know what?” Her hand went up, and she leaned forward over her cart handle. “I’m going to stop you right there before I take out your knee caps using this shopping cart as my battering ram.”

Her eyebrows shot up as if she was telling him to try her. For a moment, he was actually scared of the five-foot-three mother-to-be -- she was absolutely Horrifying with a capital H when she was hormonal and angry. No Viet-Cong could send chills down his spine the way she just did.

Then, as if a switch was flipped, Joyce straightened up, looked at her wristwatch, and pressed her lips together, slowly pushing her cart away.

“It was really nice running into you, Jim, but you’ll have to excuse me. I suddenly have more important things to do… like pick out a ham.”

“Great!”

Hopper grabbed an apple and slammed it into his basket. He grabbed another and squeezed it, bruising the fruit as he watched her walk away.

“Excellent. Thanks for the catch-up. Let’s do this again sometime!” He called out after her, eliciting a few more concerned glances from passers-by.

She stopped at the next aisle, looked over her shoulder, and gave him an exaggerated eye roll and a dismissive wave.

“Have a nice life, Hop,” she muttered over her shoulder, just under her breath. Just loud enough so only he could hear her.

“Same to you, sweetheart,” he snarled, even though he was pretty sure only the bananas heard him that time.

A few moments later, Hopper was awkwardly standing in front of the bountiful display of yams and potatoes, his shopping basket at his feet, hoping Joyce would be done with the cereal soon -- where he needed to go next -- when he heard her cuss. Expecting it to be directed at him, he turned, ready to start the argument up again but instead, his blood ran cold.

Joyce was holding herself up against the Cheerios, clutching the shelf with white knuckles. Her face was twisted in pain.

Hopper left the basket at his feet and crossed the produce section to get to her as fast as possible.

“You okay?” he asked as he approached, worried.

“Yeah, fine.” Joyce waved him off through a grimace. She rubbed her belly and tried to convince the both of them. “It’s just a little cramp. I’ve had them all morning.”

“Joyce,” Hopper said, reaching for her as the cramp worsened.

“I’m fine!” She shouted, pulling her arm out of his grasp. The motion made her fall back into her cart, and Hopper caught her just in time before it rolled away on her.

“No,” he told her firmly. “You’re not!”

Joyce grimaced and whined and bore down through the pain.

“I- I think I’m…” she stammered before it happened.

Hopper stepped back just as her water hit the floor tiles with a sickening splash. Joyce looked up at him, stunned.

Oh shit.

“Okay,” he said, taking charge. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“The groceries…” Joyce said in a daze, reaching for her cart as Hopper was escorting out towards the store’s front.

Just like in combat, Private Hopper never skipped a beat under pressure. All sorts of pressure. Like navigating a minefield or getting his ex-girlfriend to the hospital to deliver his arch-enemy’s baby.

“Forget the groceries,” Hopper told her before he started asking the tough questions. “Where’s Lonnie?”

“I… I don’t know,” Joyce admitted as she waddled down the aisle, Hopper helping to hold her upright from behind. She let go of his hand she didn’t realize she was holding as the wave of pain started to subside.

“He’s not at home?” Hopper asked her. Why was he even surprised?

“He said he was going to visit a friend last night, but he didn’t come home.”

“Of course he didn’t,” Hopper snorted.

As they turned the corner towards the front doors, they passed an unavoidable crowd -- the checkout lines were full of onlookers.

“Hey buddy, clean up on aisle three,” Hopper said to the nearest bag boy.

Everyone at the checkout lanes stopped what they were doing and stared. Some, who knew the pair, whispered between them; others smirked but averted their gaze. The bag boy, who was all of fourteen, turned white as a sheet when he realized what was going on, but the kid quickly nodded, opening the door for them out into the parking lot.

“Out of the way!” Hopper shouted to a group of smoking, loitering teens, and they scattered at the foreboding sight of the pregnant lady going into labor.

“Where’s your car?” Hopper asked Joyce.

She stopped to catch her breath.

“There.”

She pointed at her mom’s beat-up old Ford Galaxie in the expectant-mothers stall and handed him the keys from her purse.

He opened the passenger door for her and all but pushed her in. If she hesitated any more, it might’ve looked like a kidnapping to any other bystanders.

“Do you need anything from home?” he asked as he climbed into the driver’s side. “Or do you want to go straight to the hospital? Joyce?”

She had a distant look on her face, and all the color drained from it in a split second. She was going into shock.

“Joyce!” Hopper barked like he was trying to get a new Private’s attention. “Answer me!”

“I’m fine! I’m fine.” She snapped out of it and moaned. Clutching her stomach, she closed her eyes. “Just take me to hospital. Please hurry.”

He did as he was told, and it didn’t take them long to get there. The Galaxie practically floated down Main street towards Hawkins Memorial on what was left of the suspension. Hopper drove the big pink boat like it was a Ferrari, weaving in and out of the wintery mid-day traffic, and silently practiced what he’d say if they got pulled over. But by the grace of god, they never did.

He got her to the Emergency Room in record time, leaving the car parked and running at the entrance. An orderly helped him bring Joyce to intake, and Hopper helped her answer questions through another wicked contraction. Then, as he got her comfortable in one of the waiting room chairs, with the assurance that it wouldn’t be long now, Hopper got the feeling like maybe he had done all he could, or should...

He would park her car, call a cab to take him back to the supermarket, finish up his mother’s shopping, and go home. His job here was done. Yet he couldn’t help himself when he asked aloud:

“Do you want me to stay?”

Joyce’s eyes were red, rimmed with tears as she tried not to cry while she contemplated his question. It felt like forever before she shook her head.

“No…”

Hopper nodded slowly but took the answer quickly, half expecting it. He squeezed her arm and stood up to go.

“Wait,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Can you find Lonnie? Please?” she asked. “Call Norm Brown. 0465. Or maybe Tony’s? He’s at 3112. Or was it 3113? Shit. I can’t remember…” Joyce wracked her brain for the phone numbers to give him, looking panicked, sucking in shallower and shallower breaths. She was starting to hyperventilate.

“Hey, breathe…” Hopper said, crouching in front of her, getting her to slow down. “Just breathe. I’ll find him for you, okay? I promise. What about your mom? Want me to call her too?”

Joyce focused on her breath, speaking between long inhales and exhales.

“She’s not here. Taking care of aunt Darlene. It’s just Lonnie. And me right now.”

When her breathing evened out, he caught her eye, giving her one last reassurance.

“I’ll find him. Don’t worry your pretty little head… Mom.”

Joyce laughed at the absurdity of the new name on her.

“This is actually happening, isn’t it?” A couple tears ran down her face, and Hopper caught them with his thumb before they got too far down her cheeks.

“Yup.”

“I’m not just dreaming this?” she sputtered, followed by another short giggle.

Hopper forced a smile, even though he knew it was tinged with sadness.

“Nope.”

It looked like Joyce was about to say something more when a matronly grey-haired nurse with a wheelchair interrupted, killing the moment.

“Missus Byers? We can take you in now. Does Dad want to come in too?

Hopper stood up and let go of her hand, practically recoiling.

“Oh, no. No. No… I’m not…”

The older nurse frowned.

“Oh.”

Joyce smiled awkwardly.

“He’s just an old friend.”

“A close friend of the family,” Hopper added.

The nurse raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, whatever you kids wanna call it,” she said, then turned to Joyce. “Are you ready?”

Joyce closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Yes,” she said to the nurse. As Hopper helped her into the wheelchair, she reached for him one last time.

“Find him for me, Hop?”

“I will. Hey,” Hopper locked eyes with her and then leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “You’re gonna do great.”

“Thanks.” She whispered back, squeezed his hand, her fingers lacing with his for a brief moment in time.

Hopper swiftly kissed the top of her head as he stood up to go. Then, he watched her get wheeled off beyond the swinging double doors and into the next stage of her life while he stayed firmly planted in their old one.

When Hopper had parked her car and left her keys with hospital reception, he found a payphone and called the numbers Joyce had given him. One was no answer. The others said they’d pass along the message to Byers, which was good enough for now.

Then Hopper called a cab to go back to the supermarket, but he could barely focus. He grabbed the essentials from what he remembered from his mom’s list, lost somewhere along the way to the hospital, and then went home in a daze himself.

He wondered how it was they got to this point -- former best friends, lovers, now perfect strangers in each other’s lives, except for those few moments in between when it was only them and whatever trouble they’d found themselves in. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend the merry-go-round of misunderstandings and his-and-her mistakes in life that brought them here. Any sane person would say it was time to let go, move on.

Was a friendship even salvageable after all they’d been through? She seemed to think so, briefly before he ruined it with his bad attitude.

Later that evening, Hopper tried to get comfortable and get some sleep, something he was sorely lacking since jetting halfway around the world only a few days prior -- he was still on Saigon time. But he could only toss and turn, thinking about Joyce. Worried that Lonnie might still be MIA, and she’d be all alone, he got up, grabbed the bouquet of lilies he’d brought home for his mom from the airport out of the crystal vase off the dining room table, tied it up with some ribbon he found under the Christmas tree and drove back to the hospital.

He wasn’t entirely sure what his plan was when he got there. He just had the urge to see Joyce again, one more time, and tell her it’d be okay.

But when he walked through the front entrance to the Maternity ward, Lonnie was there in the waiting room just beyond the intake desk, smoking a cigar with a few buddies, looking like they’d just finished up a shift at the bar. The sight of the other man was enough to stop Hopper dead in his tracks. The last few times they had interacted ended in fisticuffs, and Hopper knew better than to engage, especially tonight. Lonnie might’ve been an asshole, but it was still his first kid. He had a right to be happy and celebrate, without anyone shitting on his parade or stirring up trouble.

Hopper doubled back to the pretty red-headed nurse at the front desk and handed her the flowers, interrupting the paperwork she was shuffling through.

“Give these to Baby Byers. Tell the family congratulations for me.”

The young nurse nodded and smiled sweetly at Hopper as he turned to go.

“Oh, but there’s no card,” she said after him. “Who should I say they’re from?”

Hopper shrugged.

“Just an old friend.”

#For Anon #Jopper #Oneshot #joyce byers #jim hopper #fanfiction #drabble #?

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televisionrulesthenation · 3 years

Photo

S1E2 - “My Blonde-Haired Brunette”

Original air date: October 10, 1961

Episode recap

Laura tries to wake Rob up at 9 o’clock in the morning on his day off. She’s been up since 7 and wants to have breakfast together. He insists on sleeping until 11.

Rob comes to the kitchen at 11 (dressed ridiculously) and Laura is upset. Rob teases, calling her his old lady and plucking a grey hair from her head and she gets more upset. Incredibly, she cooks him breakfast anyway.

The next day Laura confides in her friend, Millie, telling her she’s worried about Rob not caring about their relationship anymore. Millie tells her to bleach her hair to spice things up.

At the office Rob talks to Sally and Buddy about not understanding why Laura is upset. Sally tells him he needs to tell Laura he loves her and pay attention to her. He calls home and tells Laura he loves her and he’s taking her out to dinner tonight.

Meanwhile she has bleached her hair blond and looks ridiculous. She asks him on the phone if he’d like her bleached blond and he says no. She freaks out and begs Millie to help her change it back to brown.

Rob comes home to find Laura and Mille only halfway done changing her hair back to brunette. Laura breaks down and Rob comforts her and they make up.

Everything is about me

We recently took the 5 Love Languages self-assessment and her top 2 were my bottom 2. And my top 2 were her bottom 2.

Words of affirmation are a mismatch for us. Like Rob, I could do better there. And it wouldn’t that big of a stretch for me because I would actually mean the words of affirmation, I just don’t think to say them.

The biggest difference though is gift giving. It’s by far the most important thing for her, and by far the least important thing for me.

When we talked about it, I struggled not to sound like a terrible person. She was being empathetic, saying she has to understand that receiving gifts isn’t important to me. But I was like, I like getting gifts just fine, I don’t like the process of getting other people gifts. The taking note of subtle hints, the planning, the shopping, etc. So my preference not to give gifts drives my lack of joy in receiving gifts, not the other way around.

Then she asked me if I like receiving gifts, how come my Father’s Day present remains in its original packaging on the floor in our closet? So who knows, either way, it’s a mismatch.

This one seems hard to solve because solving it means one of us doing something they don’t like. Not sure how to meet in the middle.

Episode observations

Life before cell phones

Cell phones wouldn’t have fundamentally altered the plot here. Obviously, Rob and Laura’s phone conversation would have probably been texts rather than on those retro phones with cords. But the plot holds.

Clothes and fashion

Rob’s clothes when he comes down for breakfast look ridiculous. Black and white don’t do it justice, but it’s almost like a modern day homeless person. A sweater with holes and stains over a polo shirt I think with odd pants, maybe corduroys. (His hair is perfectly styled though.)

But I guess this was life before active wear. What else are you going to wear around the house on your day off? Well, in the final scene, he’s in the living room, reading the paper, wearing a cardigan over pressed collared shirt tucked into fitted slacks. So that’s the answer if you care about your appearance. Again no active wear.

I’ve long thought the advent of comfortable clothes has to have at least some small part in the obesity epidemic. I am typing this in a T-shirt and pajama pants. If I wore what Rob was wearing in the final scene around the house at all times, I am sure I’d be a few pounds lighter.

Pop culture references

Laura is going for the Marilyn Monroe or Brigette Bardo look when bleaching her hair, but is said to look more like Harpo Marx. I had never heard of Brigette Bardo before, then I Googled her and feel like maybe I have or at least should have. I have definitely heard of Harpo Marx, then I Googled him and realized I had never seen a picture of him before.

Vocabulary lesson

“Is this a rip?” asks the pharmacist irritatedly to Millie on the phone when presented with “a hair emergency.” In context I get that rip meant joke. And you can see that in the third definition in Wikipedia. 10 years ago I worked with a guy 20 years older than me and he was constantly saying he “didn’t give a rip” about something or another. I feel like this is might be a related usage.

Checking in with my mom

Laura and Millie were spending time together “addressing envelopes.” My mom says it could have been for some PTA or charity project. But more than likely it was writing out the return for bills or something mundane. Not only was there no online bill pay back then, bills didn’t even come pre-addressed. So it was a chore just preparing your mail.

She said she never saw her mom take a break during the day. She was always cooking, cleaning, sewing or doing laundry. They didn’t even have a washer or dryer.

I know this is cliche, but I don’t understand how we feel so busy nowadays.

Best joke/funniest moment

Laura, laying it on thick, prodding and guilting Rob to wake up, says, “would you rather just lie there?”

You think the guilt trip is finally working. But then Rob responds, “yeah I would.”

Other assorted thoughts on life in the 1960s

They sleep in separate twin beds. I understand this was just some public decency sign of the times in regards to what you could show on television. Still weird though.

Rob does jumping jacks when he wakes up. I also understand exercise and fitness didn’t really take off until the ‘80s, not sure what the jumping jacks were all about.

Laura’s hair, half blond and half brunette when Rob happens upon her mid-fix, is punk rock. It was played for laughs. But honestly it would be less weird to see someone walk around with that hair in 2021 than it would from them to have the actual 1961 Laura Petrie cut.

You could call the pharmacy and have them deliver. Last episode featured a home doctor visit. It is my understand this was during the milkman delivery era of life too. Is everything old new again? Maybe Amazon and Uber Eats is just a return the ideas from the mid-twentieth century.

Final thoughts

This episode wasn’t that funny. And Rob was kind of a dick. And Laura was kind of whiny. We’ll see where this goes.

#s1 #e2 #the dick van dyke show #sitcoms #tv #dick van dyke #mary tyler moore #1960s #work #family #marriage

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animation-recaps-by-sean · 3 years

Text

Gravity Falls Beyond the Woods Chapter Three

Almost year long hiatus? What almost year long hiatus?

Dipper and Wendy’s daughter prepare for a big day when Wendy gets some news.

Rated T for blood and violence

<-prev next->

The bell rang and the students got and left their sixth grade class for the summer. Two students stood out due to their red hair and height. The two twins were only 12 but could easily pass for 16. Ty and Rose stood a foot above the rest of their peers. Rose was very excited for the summer. Summer meant adventure. Summer meant mystery!

She had grown up listening to stories about her Dad and Aunt Mabel fighting gnomes and solving the mystery of the journals. Now on her twelfth summer, maybe it was her turn. But before that she had other business.

“Mom coming in twenty minutes, I’ll be outside shooting hoops.” Tyrone was much more popular than Rose. While height had made her a bit of a paria among peers outside her friend group, it had made Ty very popular. Star basketball player, big hit with the other boys in school. He has had the gall to have dated several of them all while Rose had never even kissed a boy.

Rose made her way to her locker, where she was greeted by her friends, Grace and Megan. Grace was African-American while Megan was latina. Both were of average height with their classmates, which means they were far shorter than Rose.

“You’re ready for tomorrow?” Grace asked.

“Ah, about as ready as one can be.”

“Come on Rose, we know that you can do it,” Megan said encouragely. Did ya bring the sword?”

Rose blew a raspberry. “The school wouldn’t let me bring it. It’s so stupid. It’s not even sharp.” Tyrone may have the court, but Rose has fencing.

Across the country, a teacher was saying goodbye to her class. Mabel strolled down the classroom, passing rows of kindergarteners. “It’s been a wonderful year, children, I’ll miss you all so much.”

“We’ll miss you too Mrs. Pines-Northwest!” The kids got out of their chairs and rushed over to hug the crying teacher.

After class, Mabel cleaned her face in the bathroom. Damn, saying goodbye was the hardest part of being a teacher. After washing up, she walked out to her sports car, a gift from her wife. The vehicle's black color stood out against the bright background of California wine country. She drove out of the suburbs and into the farmland, music blaring. She passed barns filled with cows, horses, and ostriches.

She reached the vineyards passing rows and rows of grapes. A smile broke out on her face when she saw her house sitting on the hill. She drove up to the gate and punched in the code. Driving up the road, she spotted her loving wife working in the field.

Pacifica was looking at the grapes. The former heiress wore overalls, coated with dirt. She had long stopped bleaching her hair, leaving it her natural dirty blonde. The long locks she wore as a child had been cut down to a pixie cut. The same style she had since college. After parking the car, Mabel got out and greeted Pacifica with a kiss.

“How was the last day of school?”

“Tough. It always is.” Mabel sighed. “Why do the kids move on to a new teacher every year!”

“Now, now. You’ll be just as attached to next year’s class.” Pacifica gave her a hug. “The kids are inside. I’m going to take a bath.”

“Bubble?”

“Of course.”

“Love you.”

As Mabel entered the house, her phone lit up. It was her twin. “Dipper what’s up!” She placed her puse on the kitchen counter.

“Doing alright after saying goodbye?”

“Yeah, how do you deal?”

“Well, I got college students so…”

Mabel blew a raspberry. “You got no soul Mr Pines.” At this moment Stanley walked in, Mabel and Pacifica’s son was five with dirty blonde hair. This was his last summer before he starts Kindergarten. “So, how’s Rosie? Is she excited for the big day tomorrow?”

Stan tugged on Mabel’s dress. “Mommy, I want a cookie.”

Mabel placed her hand over the speaker and turned her attention to her young son. “Mommy’s on the phone, go ask your mother.”

The young boy shrugged. He wandered over to the bathroom. He reached up and opened the door. The boy’s second mother was relaxing in a tub filled with bubbles. “Mom, can I have a cookie?”

Without opening her eyes she said, “Go ask your mother sweetie.”

Young Stan turned around and walked back to the kitchen. “Mommy can I have a cookie?”

“Any plans for the summer… hold on. Go ask your mother honey.”

Stan once again made the track to the bathroom. “Mom I really want a cookie. Can I have one?”

“Go ask your mother.” The blonde replied again.

The boy made his way back to the kitchen and asked, “Mommy can I have a cookie.”

“I told you to ask your mother!” Mabel said a little louder than she intended. If it bothered Stan, he didn’t show it. He just walked back to the bathroom, earning the attention of Ashley whose head peaked out of her room. She was a seventeen year old african-american girl who was Mabel and Pacifica’s foster daughter. She had been living with the Pines-Northwests for a year and a half. She was reading a robotic magazine when Mabel shouting drew her out of her head.

Stan walked into the bathroom asking, “Mom can I have a-”

“GO ASK YOUR MOTHER!”

Rose was standing in front of the school, waiting for both her brother and her mother to come. She wished that her father was coming to pick her up as Mom tended to be a bit.. embarrassing at times. But Dad was a busy important man. She could understand that he couldn’t pick her up everytime. Her thoughts were interrupted by a shrill voice.

“Hey daddy long legs, ready to embarrass yourself tomorrow?”

Rose sighed through her nose. “Hey Margaret,” Rose hissed at the popular mean girl.

Margaret was flanked by her two lackeys. “How much do you wanna bet she trips over her front feet?”

One of the girls next to her laughed, “Yeah, how’s the weather up there.”

Margaret exploded at her friend. “That’s not what we’re talking about Stacy! God, can't you think up something clever? Just shut up Stacy! Just shut up!” The mean girl pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to calm herself down.

Rose could help but ask, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I said I’m fine!”

The girls stood in front of the school unsure what to do now. The awkwardness hung in the air thick. A honk from a large fire truck pulled everyone out of their funk.

Wendy’s head popped out of the window. “Hey Rosie, Mom brought the fire truck.”

Margaret icily said, “Try not to rib off another locker door Mommy’s girl.” She stormed off, leaving her henchgirls to scramble after her.

Rose got in the fire truck, emotionally exhausted. Wendy picked up on something.

“Was that girl picking on you? Do you want me to punch her in her face?”

“Mom! You just can’t punch girls in their face. Can we just get home?”

“Where’s your brother?”

“Around the corner at the basketball court.”

As the Pines family settled in their apartment, Wendy heard her phone go ding. An email from her brother Marcus. They were having a Corduroy family reunion this summer, hosted by their father at Gravity Falls Organ. Great. She sent a reply confirming that she and her brood will attend. At least Rosie will be happy.

And her family wasn’t the only people still in Gravity Falls. She decided to call Tambry.

Tambry answered, “Wendy! How’s my favorite girl?”

“Seeing you soon actually. Can you talk?”

“Yeah, I’m not during anything. What’s up?”

“Dad’s hosting the next family reunion. So I’ll be in town in June.”

“Oof, hosting all those Corduroys sounds like an event.”

“Yeah, our family gathering can get pretty… pretty intense.”

“Too bad I’ll have to miss it. I’m traveling for work all June. In fact I’m in Chicago right now.”

“But didn’t you and Robbie like, just have a baby?”

“That was months ago.”

“Ah what do you do again.”

“I’m an associate statistician for cosmetic sales.”

“And what does that intel?”

“Oh it’s very technical. You properly wouldn’t understand.” Wendy rolled her eyes at that. “Well, I’ll tell Robbie that you and Dipper will be in town.”

Wendy heard gunshots over the phone. She pulled it away flinching. “Tambry are you okay?”

“Oh yeah. The asshole in the room next to mine is watching a movie and he has no idea how sound must work!” Wendy heard a few more gunshots and some sobbing. “I might as well be watching the damn thing myself.”

Tambry hung up the cell phone. Standing in her hotel room, she was wearing a simple suit and tie. What was really out of place was the pistol in her hand. A man knelt before her sobbing. His colleagues were corpses scattered throughout the room. Tambry wasn’t worried about being caught, the seedy motel they were in were far from prying eyes.

“Your country thanks you for your service.”

“Please,” the man croaked. “We did everything you asked…”

Tambry pulled the trigger, blowing his brain all over the room. She makes another call. “They’re dead. Send a clean up crew.”

#wendip #mabifica #gravity falls #gravity falls au #gravity falls fan fiction #wendip kids

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clownsgobeepbeep · 3 years

Note

❝ I thought I’d seen a ghost. ❞

Mmmmm

Some Garden Bud finally uwu

@grodygabe ‘Cause Cordie is kind of in this

“Hi Auntie!”

“Hello Phoebe.” Jelly grinned as she looked down at the little moth that jumped around, the only thing holding her down being the hand that held onto hers.

“Do you like my new shirt?” Phoebe motioned to the blouse she was wearing, a Sailor Moon design present on it. “My papa Peri bought it for me when we went to the mall yesterday!”

“It’s so pretty Phoebe!” Jelly exclaimed before turning her attention to her father beside her. “Your daddies must be jealous they don’t have such an awesome shirt.”

“I know they are, that’s why I don’t rub it in their faces.” Phoebe giggled as she looked up at her father.

“Come in, come in. I was just working on some lunch for everyone.” Jelly moved out of the doorway to her home. “How have you been Vespers?”

“I’ve been just dandy.” Vespers grinned as he walked into the house with Phoebe, seeing Jelly close the door behind them before they were all led to the living room. “Not much to report other than Cosmos and I spent the day together since it was his day off. My dad took Phoebe to the mall while the boys spent some time with Cuckoo and Calliope’s kids.”

“That sounds like a really nice day.” Jelly picked up some toys that had been scattered around the living room floor, some being some tiny boots that were clearly dirty. “Phoebe, do you want to stay with me and your dad, or would you like to go play with Cordie?”

“She’s home?” Phoebe’s eyes lit up.

“Yes she is, so is Davey but my sleepy little sailor is taking a nap.” Jelly ruffled Phoebe’s hair, then motioning to the hallway. “You remember where her room is, right?”

“Yeah!” Phoebe nodded before speeding away, leaving Vespers and Jelly alone to talk.

“So,” Jelly clasped her hands together. “Shall we go to the kitchen?”

“Sounds good.” Vespers nodded before following behind Jelly, taking a seat on one of the stools in front of the counter that Jelly resumed working on the lunch she had planned out. “So how’s the park coming along?”

“Well,” Jelly gave a breathy laugh as she reached over to grab a bowl filled with pieces of meat that she placed on her cutting board one at a time. “ A good portion of the park was destroyed, thankfully not more than fifty percent. The Kingdom took the most damage….it’s all coming together again.”

“That’s somewhat good news.”

“Yes...we should be opening again some time in the summer.” Jelly cut into the small pieces. “At least I have the aquarium and the pier up and running, so the money was made up with that business.”

“The aquarium is fantastic, Phoebe and the boys are still amazed at the Great White.” Vespers gave a chuckle. “I thought no aquarium could hold a Great White.”

“It’s not illegal or not allowed,” Jelly glanced up at Vespers with a tiny smirk. “Nobody is able to keep one alive.”

“No one except you.” Vespers gave another chuckle as Jelly gave a smug shrug, continuing to cut the meat. “Is that fish?”

“Clams. I hope you don’t mind, but Cordelia wanted some clam chowder and that’s what I’m making.”

“Your chowder’s always good so I don’t mind.” Vespers watched the tiny pieces be scoot to the side with the knife. “Should have guessed you make it all from scratch.”

“My chowder is made from the freshest clams Vesp. These are my latest catch.”

“Yummy.” Vespers commented before turning his head to the side, having heard some footsteps. “I hope the girls are making such a ruckus.”

“It’s Phoebe and Cordelia, I wouldn’t be very surprised if they went to the moon right now.” Jelly gave a laugh, keeping her attention on the clams she was chopping before other ingredients followed.

“True.” Vespers looked back at Jelly, but immediately whipped around again at the sound of more footsteps. That was when he felt a jolt of fear spread through him. Well, it was really just a slight scare as he spotted something new at the end of the hall that he had been checking on.

“God, you scared the hell out of me.”

“Did I?”

Now Jelly turned her attention to the same spot, blinking in curiosity before she too noticed the new figure.

“Oh, hi Bud.” she greeted before her cooking continued once more. “It’s not the first time he’s spooked somebody. One time I woke up in the middle of the night and saw him down the hallway. I thought I’d seen a ghost.”

“People never tell me that I’m scary, but I’m glad you think that.” smiled the newcomer that stepped towards Vespers’ location, looking up at him with a smile filled with pride.

“Good afternoon...Garden Bud.” Vespers blinked down at the doll, watching him as he locked eyes. The doll did not look away, looking deep into his own eyes for a while that made a slight shiver run down Vespers’ spine. Eventually, Bud turned his glass eyes away with a blink before he walked around the counter to where Jelly was.

“Where’s Ula?” Jelly slightly eyed him as he made his way over to the fridge, looking up at the fridge handles that he could not reach.

“Can you give me a hand?”

“Why don’t you eat from your own fridge?”

“I don’t have any strawberries.”

“Well maybe if you didn’t eat them all at once you’d have a lot more.”

“He has his own fridge?” Vespers blinked in surprise before Jelly gave him a look.

“Ula got him one of those mini fridges and she has it in her room next to the small bed she got him.”

“Of course.” Vespers’ eyes fell on the doll whose own eyes were trailing up and down Jelly’s figure from behind. “I think you have a little, uh…”

Jelly looked up at Vespers before turning around, immediately frowning at the sight.

“Do you want me to bring out Godzilla?”

Garden Bud instantly looked up at Jelly with wide eyes, his head shaking rapidly.

“Uncle Vespers!” they all now heard, everyone turning to the end of the hall where they now saw Ula. “I didn’t know you were visiting today.”

“It was a last minute plan with your mom.” Vespers spun in his seat to accept the embrace Ula offered, feeling her plant a kiss on his cheek. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good, done unpacking everything.” Ula took a seat beside him, taping her long nails on the counter. “Gonna go hang out with the beaus a little later.~”

“Atlas was telling me.” Vespers turned to her. “I never got to ask, how was the trip? I heard you made a new friend.”

“Oh yeah, his name’s Richard. He’s such a bookworm, maybe even more than Atlas.” Ula gave a laugh. “We traveled together for a bit and he decided to come to town since he’s never been here.”

“Oh. I see.” Vespers raised his eyebrows, glancing over at Jelly who gave a shrug before she turned to start putting the ingredients into a pot.

“Oooh! Uncle!” Ula gasped before hopping off of her chair, fast walking around the counter where Jelly and Garden Bud were. “Bud!”

“Bud?” Vespers blinked as he watched the doll be swooped into Ula’s arms, apparent surprise as he was rushed over to Vespers.

“Uncle! Could you make some little clothes for Bud?” Ula widely smiled at her uncle whose eyes trailed down to the doll that looked up at him in anticipation. “I’d obviously pay you for it, you just name your price! Bud’s been needing some new outfits since he can only rely on the official Garden Bud toy ones, they’re not always very fashionable.”

“I would like some new outfits.” Bud raised his eyebrows at the thought of it.

“Outfits...for Garden Bud?” Vespers continued to look down at Bud, realizing that he was being carried like a child would. His gaze then lifted to Ula’s features, almost seeing a twinkle in her eye as she looked at him, full of hope. “What outfits did you have in mind?”

“Possibly some jeans ya know. Some sweatshirts, hooded ones. I really need him to have a winter coat, he gets really cold and I have to wrap him up in a blanket like a baby.”

“I’m not a baby though.” Bud replied, Vespers snickering as he remembered just how Bud was being held.

“When do you want to start measuring him?”

“We can do it some other day.”

“Why don’t you just do it right now?” Jelly suggested as she wiped her hands. “Vespers is here and I doubt it’ll take very long. I’m almost done with the chowder and I still have to make some sandwiches for it, we can continue talking when we eat. There’s some measuring tape right over there.”

Vespers saw Ula reach over the counter to grab some measuring tape, handing it over to him with a big smile. He couldn’t resist smiling back at her, even if her killer doll was creepily staring up at him.

_____________

“Can I have a clown outfit too? I wanna look like a clown!”

“Could you hold still?” Vespers dropped his hands on his lap with a sigh.

In front of him was Garden Bud, standing on top of a small stool Ula had brought over to help with the measuring. That was over twenty minutes ago, when Vespers started measuring the doll.

“Bud,” Ula sternly called out to the doll, the latter turning around to face her. “No moving.”

“Okay, okay.” Bud stood erect and with his arms extended out, absolutely no movement as Vespers resumed his measuring. Until- “But can I have a clown outfit?”

“Garden Bud!” Jelly shouted from the kitchen, the doll once again standing still. “Good boy.”

At the sound of this, a slight tint of pink appeared on his pale features. At least in his somewhat flustered state, Vespers could finally get some proper measurements out of the doll.

“Are you going to want some shoes too?” he asked Ula who had been sitting beside them.

“Nah, I’ve found plenty of those.” she waved a hand, right before placing a finger on her chin. “However, I’d appreciate it if you could make him some small blankets. Doll ones aren’t exactly the warmest ones.”

While Vespers and Ula continued on with their conversation,. Bud lowered his arms that fell at his side as he began to clutch onto his corduroy overalls. He didn’t know what else to do; he didn’t want to move from his spot because doing so could make Ula or Jelly upset. He couldn’t have that.

But!

It wasn’t until his little nose caught a scent that he wondered if they really would be upset...

Garden Bud turned to the side, eyes squinting while he lifted his nose. Sniffing the air led him to look over to the kitchen. The scent was clearly not coming from here. He then turned his attention to the hallway beside it, realizing that the scent was coming from there.

He blinked once as he caught sight of something red and almost shiny in the distance.

Right on the floor was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen in his little doll life, but not as beautiful as Jelly of course. But right on the floor was a single strawberry, just waiting to be eaten by him.

He took one last between all the adults, deciding that there really wouldn’t be any harm in going to pick up the lone strawberry. He hadn’t eaten anything yet after all.

So, he quietly made his way over to the strawberry after hopping off of his stool, nobody batting an eye over his absence. The strawberry clearly did not belong to anybody, for he knew that nobody would discard a strawberry in such a way.

Bud made his way over to the fruit, waiting a moment before swiping it off the floor. He giggled to himself, wiping it a bit on his bandana before eating the entire strawberry in a heartbeat. Stem included. And before he could make his way back to the living room, his eyes widened at the sight of another strawberry.

Once again, he went over to the strawberry, then seeing another. And another. And another. And another. He typically would have devoured one after the other, but he found it best that he hold them all in his little hands so that he could place them in a bowl to enjoy.

The doll was quite content, giggling at the sight of the many strawberries some unknown force had been gifting him. What made him ecstatic however was the pile of strawberries he found in the middle of a bedroom he had unknowingly brought himself into.

“Oh boy, have I found the jackpot.” Bud clasped his hands together after dropping the previous strawberries, sneaking on over to the pile to scoop the whole thing up. But before he could do that, Bud heard the door shut behind him, just as found himself being the one scooped up

“I got you! I got you!”

“You got him! You got him!”

Bud found himself in an extreme grip, making him shriek in a panic as he swung around in the air.

He looked behind him as best as possible, his shrieking continuing as he realized he was in the hold of Ula’s youngest sibling as her cousin stood beside her with a terrifying grin that matched Cordelia’s.

“I finally got you! And now we’re all gonna be friends! We’re gonna have so much fun!”

The only response that came from Bud was another ear piercing screech as he wiggled as harshly as possible.

Immediately, the bedroom door swung open as Jelly and the others stood in the doorway with concerned expressions.

“Cordelia, what is going on!?” Jelly exclaimed, hearing a final scream come from the doll who finally managed to wiggle out of Cordelia’s grasp. Right then, Bud fell to the ground and wasted no time, making a run for it between the adults’ legs as the strawberries were completely forgotten about.

“Oooh! He wants to play tag!” Cordelia excitedly jumped around, dashing through the doorway as everyone was shoved away. “Hi Uncle Vespers!”

“Hi?” Vespers awkwardly said before looking over at Phoebe.

“Let’s get him!” Phoebe squealed, soon following suit before she was grabbed by Vespers. “Dad!”

“Don’t hurt the doll.”

“We won’t!” Phoebe replied before Vespers found the space where Phoebe had been in empty, the little moth having appeared behind everyone as she ran after Cordelia and Garden Bud.

“They’re gonna tear him apart.” Ula quickly walked away, going faster as she heard cackling come from Cordelia.

“Cordelia!”

“Phoebe!”

As the adults called out to their respective child, Garden Bud run as fast as his little legs could take him. After having gone down the hallway and back into the living room, he desperately looked for a good spot to hide in.

There weren’t many spots he felt the kids wouldn’t find him in, but there was one that they probably wouldn’t predict him to be in.

He ran to one of the pieces of furniture that also happened to be a small house, a small house for Ula’s cat Samhain.

Bud got onto his knees as he attempted to crawl inside, realizing that cat was already in his desired place.

“Shoo! Get out! I need this spot more than you do!” the doll ushered the cat away, receiving a growl and then hiss before Samhain actually ran off, no doubt to steal Garden Bud’s bed.

“Where’d he go?” he heard Cordelia ask as she looked around the living room with Phoebe beside her.

“Guys! Can you just let him go for now? You scared the heck out of him.” now Ula’s voice sounded.

“Girls, why don’t we just stop and go eat?”

“Are the hammies ready?”

“What are hammies?”

Bud watched through the opening of the cat house, seeing Phoebe’s legs, for she was not as distracted as Cordelia over the sandwiches Jelly offered.

He tucked his little hands against his chest as he sat with his back against the surface of the box, almost shaking as Phoebe’s legs drew closer to his location.

“Phoebe, come on over here.” Vespers called out to her. “Your aunt made some clam chowder.

“Oh boy!” Phoebe jumped, quite thrilled, this in turn causing her walkman to slip out of her jacket’s pocket. “Shit!”

“Phoebe!”

“Sorry, sorry.” she giggled as she crouched down to pick up the device, stopping once her fingers touched it. Eventually, her face came into view, right before it turned to look inside the little box. “He’s in here!”

Before anybody could react, the little door burst open and the doll attempted to rush out of the scene.

“Get him! Get him! Get him!” Phoebe pointed as Cordelia got ready to chase once more.

“No, don’t get him!” Jelly grabbed Cordelia by the back of her shirt.

Bud, having been looking behind, never realized that Ula had been standing in the direction he was headed to. He crashed into her legs, giving a shriek of terror as he believed that he was once again caught.

“Relax, silly.” Ula bent down to grab his small form, hugging him against her chest as he held onto her sweater, glaring at Phoebe and Cordelia. “You’re safe now.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Awww! We never get to play with Bud!” Cordelia stomped a foot before her hand was taken by Jelly’s, the latter leading her to the dining room to sit down in front of some prepared chowder and sandwiches.

“You can try again after you and Phoebe eat.”

“Okay!” Cordelia grinned, motioning to Phoebe to come over, so she ran to the table and plopped down on the seat next to hers. Soon enough, Vespers and Jelly joined them as Ula made her way down the hallway.

“Little girls are terrifying.” Bud commented as he leaned his head against Ula’s chest. “You should never have kids.”

“I should never have kids?”

“Exactly. Stick with me and dump your boyfriends.”

“Why should I dump my boyfriends?”

“I mean, why do you have two boyfriends? Two is too many. In fact, one is too many. You don’t need boyfriends.” Bud posited, not bothering to look at Ula who quirked her eyebrow at him. “Boyfriends are too needy. They give you kids.They cling onto you and get mad if you pay attention to someone else.”

“Hope that doesn’t hit too close to home.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ula stared down at Bud, giving him a smile and chuckle, as he was left in confusion.

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teffyjeffy · 4 years

Text

Fabric Tears (Part 3)

NEXT (Coming soon to the Mystery Shack!)

PART 1

PART 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

ONCE UPON A TIME...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

With the sudden task to redecorate the dining room for a tea party materializing in front of everyone, an aura of calmness had settled within the Corduroy household, much to Wendy's relief, Mabel's joy, and Dipper's confusion.

First off, the winter garb finally came off, now that there was no longer the threat of a bear running away while the coats were being removed. Dan was more than happy to house them in the closet located near the entrance. The closet, which originally was only keeping plaid colored jackets in there, now had a splash of color with the trio's coats added to the rack.

The three Corduroy brothers returned in record time with a box of Candyleaf, and whole bunch of other boxes of tea flavors. They all talked over each other with excitement, talking about how the ghostly couple were so thankful for the boy's good manners that they were allowed to the other boxes for free. Dan roared with good natured laughter and got a second kettle of water boiling.

Wendy and Mabel were taking turns between keeping an eye on Mr. SnuggleLots and setting the table up. Mabel made sure to throw a bunch of cute stickers on the tea cups. Wendy taught the bear how to play card games, and thankfully, cards were not in Mr. SnuggleLots's diet.

Dipper and Frisk were taking a break, sitting at the bottom steps of the stairway and watching Mabel, Wendy, and everyone else running around and transforming the dining room into a top quality tea set for Mabel's wild tea party plan. Dipper and Frisk were also using this opportunity to keep an eye on the pets, with Dipper holding onto Waddles, and Frisk giving lovely head scritches to Toby

"Back in the summer, I bet I would've chopped the poor bear's head off by this point or something," joked Dipper.

"I have a feeling you would've faced some resistance from Mabel if you tried that," replied Frisk, holding the torn scarf in their hands and making sure that Toby was far away enough to not consider biting it.

Dipper laughed, setting Waddles down to give himself a moment to stretch his arms. "Yeah, probably. Still though... I don't know if she would have come to this crazy conclusion to throw a tea party if she hadn't met you. Maybe instead, she'd have... pfft, I dunno, encased him in ice and shipped him off to the North Pole?"

"It feels like any scenario is possible if Mabel is behind it," teased Frisk.

"Just her, huh? Sounds like someone's picking favorites," laughed Dipper, giving the child ambassador a playful shove on the shoulder.

"Maybe I am~ Are you willing to prove to me that you are the sibling who's worth more of my attention than your sister?"

"Ohhhhhh no, don't go there. Last time Mabel and I had that kind of dispute, things got... pretty ridiculous. I've hated carpets ever since..."

"If you're going to continue being secret about your stories, you should stop hooking people in like that. I was all down for letting your story remain untold, and then you bring up this sudden hatred for carpets? You have captivated me, Dipper."

The stairway softly echoed with the barks of Toby, the snorts of Waddles, and the chuckles of Dipper and Frisk... when another sound made its way to Dipper's ears.

It sounded like... sobbing. From upstairs.

"Everything okay, Dipper?" asked Frisk with a tilt of the head. "You got awfully quiet."

"I'm going to check up on Toriel. Call me if Mabel needs me," Dipper suddenly declared, making his way up the stairs.

"Huh? Dipper, wait-" began Frisk, but Dipper was already gone. Giving a sigh of uncertainty, Frisk resumed watching the rest of the group set up the table while the pets messed around.

Dipper was able to find Wendy's room pretty quickly, having memorized to route to get there, which he was embarrassed to admit. Without thinking, we twisted the knob and opened the door.

"Toriel, what's wrong? I heard... sobbing..........."

The room was almost completely dark, the only light source in the room coming from the paused image on Wendy's television. And there, sitting on Wendy's bed, legs folded and drawn in to her chest, was Toriel; her eyes were puffy and red, there was a prominent trail of tears on both of her cheeks. Even Papyrus could have deduced that the Ex-Queen had been crying.

Not wanting to stare, Dipper shifted his attention to the television set. The image on the screen appeared to be a home recording of some sort, the kind taken with a big vintage video camera. The background depicted a well maintained house with a wooden floor and fireplace. In the foreground...

There was a little goat kid, eyes wide with wonder, and tears welling up at the bottom of those eyes. He had white soft-looking fur, a tinge of pink to his cheeks, and just... the purest smile that Dipper had ever seen. Pure enough to rival Mabel's 1000-watt grins.

Toriel's yelp of shock jolted Dipper back to the present moment.

"Dipper! I- I wasn't- that is, I didn't... I didn't anticipate that anybody would need me so soon-"

"Nonono, it's my fault, I... I thought you were in trouble and I came running in-"

They both eventually stopped talking over one another and a thick silence fell on them.

"...........I- I'll go-" Dipper started.

"No, it's-" began Toriel, her voice hitching.

...

Toriel continued. "Frisk has... told me about you. How your curiosity tends to drive you."

"Well um... it's not something I'm proud of exactly... but yeah, I'd say that description fits me."

The awkward silence returned, but this time the intensity was a little lighter.

Dipper was the one to break it this time. "Listen, you don't need to tell me anything, my curiosity should not be a factor in this-"

"I appreciate that, Dipper. But let's be honest. If I had you leave now, things will be awkward afterwards, and they'll stay awkward for who knows how long. I.... I might as well tell you, now that you've already seen it."

For one last moment, silence filled the room, the only audible sound being the buzz of the old television set.

"......please come in," finished Toriel.

Not a word was spoken as Dipper warily entered Wendy's room and shut the door behind him, submerging the room in near-total darkness once more, minus the light shining from the TV. Toriel looked down to the floor. She said nothing, but slowly lifted the paw that held the remote... and hit 'play.'

"M-mom?! You made this for me?! It's gigantic! I want it! I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT!!!"

"Ha ha ha ha! I know, it looks delicious, doesn't it! But that's no excuse to forget your manners. How do you ask for things that you want, my child?"

"Mom, may I please eat the cake?"

"Nope!"

"What?!!!? B-but you said... you said that I-!"

"Aha ha ha ha! I'm just teasing you my child! Before I can let you dig in though, your father and I need to sing for you!"

"That song again?? You sing it every year though, ha ha!"

"Maybe. But it is a tradition~ And it's worth singing for you, my bundle of sunshine~"

"Stoppit mommmmmm! You're embarrassing me!"

"Hush now, little one~ And close your eyes~"

The image suddenly went dark, and Dipper realized that the lights had been switched off in the household... then the screen lit up again, by candles being lit on the cake. The light gave the goat child a very calming orange glow. He looked so... happy.

"Okay! You can open them now!"

And he did. Dipper watched him gasp... somehow, the goat child's smile managed to get even bigger.

"♫Happy Birthday to you ♫..........♫Happy Birthday to you♫.......... ♫Happy Birthday dear-"

"Asriel" mouthed Dipper.

His lips had moved before his brain, or heart, or even his voice could process it. But he just knew. This was him. This... was Asriel. The child that Frisk had tried to save... and lost.

Dipper vaguely noted that at some point, tears had welled up in his eyes and they were currently trailing down his cheeks.

"...Happy Birthday tooooooo yooouuuuuuuuu~♫ Make a wish, little one!"

The video went still again. Dipper looked up to see that Toriel had hit the remote's pause button once more, the small box silently trembling in her paw. She dropped the remote, buried her face in her tear-stained sleeves, and let out the most gut wrenching wail that Dipper had ever heard. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her. And bless her heart, she let him.

"He.......... he was everything..." whimpered Toriel after what felt like hours of weeping in Dipper's arms. "He was full of life... every day was filled with his cries and his laughter... the plan was when he was old enough to become a prince, we were going to surprise him with a throne that was just... covered with honey suckles. Asriel always... always loved those honey suckles..."

Dipper could not say a word. What could he say? He had never endured the loss of a loved one. He came awfully close to losing Mabel at the hands of him, but unlike Toriel, Dipper got lucky. He had his great uncles to thank for protecting him and his sister. But it appeared that Toriel did not have such luck...

Toriel sniffled. "You remember earlier when Mabel said she was willing to share her candy with the coolest mom to ever walk the earth, right Dipper?"

"I remember."

She gave a sad laugh. "Well... this is the day when I remember how lousy of a mother I was. I should have seen the signs. I should have stopped him... and I didn't. I'm no cool mother. I'm not even a good one... I... I was powerless, Dipper."

All Dipper could do was tighten the hug. Nothing could be said. Toriel Dreemurr was going through something that Dipper could never fathom, and part of him hoped that he would never come to learn it.

There was suddenly a gentle creeeeeeeeeaaaaaaak that shook the two out of their hug.

It was Frisk.

Nobody said anything for a while. All that could be heard was the clinking and clattering of silverware downstairs.

"...The tea is ready," finally spoke Frisk. "Mabel is expecting all of us to attend. I can let her know if you need more time th-"

Toriel shook her head. "N-no, I'm alright. You said tea is ready?"

"Yes, correct," affirmed Frisk. They watched as Toriel remained tense. They gave a quick glance to the television screen, before looking back to their mother.

"...The plan was to talk once this was all over, correct?" said Frisk reassuringly. "I'll tell you everything then, I promise. But first, I'd like to have some tea. Mabel will be furious if anyone lets their cup get cold."

"R-right... Yes... Yes of course," said Toriel, standing up from the bed and dusting herself off. "Tell Mabel I'll be right down."

"Yes Mom," said Frisk with a hint of a smile, disappearing from view as they climbed back down the stairs.

"Well... I'll see you downstairs Dipper," said Toriel, wiping her eyes. "Mind shutting the TV off for me?"

"I don't mind at all, Toriel. See you down there," said Dipper with a wave, watching as Toriel disappeared from his view.

There was... a lot to process from that exchange. But it would have to wait for now. Dipper reached forward to press the TV's on/off switch...

...when something on the monitor caught his eye.

The dim background made it hard to see, but Dipper swore that there, sitting in a chair, was another child.

A human child.

...

Dipper hit 'play.'

"I wish that I can stay best friends forever with-!"

"Oh come on Asriel, you wished for that last year. Wish for something else this time, sheesh."

"Hey! That was rude!" said Asriel, seeming to be both shocked and tickled by the remark. "You're such a meanie sometimes, Cha-"

And then there was static. The videotape had reached its end.

...

Filled with questions that he knew he'd have to wait until the right moment to ask about, Dipper turned the TV off and finally left Wendy's room.

Dipper was met with a very lively spectacle.

Dan was pouring cup after cup of various tea flavors, handing them to Mabel and Wendy (both wearing heat resistant gloves) who fanned out to place each cup in front of 11 different seats at the dining room table. Toriel had already sit herself down at one of the seats, but had opted to wait until everyone was seated before she began sipping her tea. Toby and Waddles were running around underneath the table, darting under some chairs and darting around others. The boys and Frisk were gathered in the living room, Frisk eagerly listening to a story that Marcus was telling about how he once managed get himself a gigantic fish from the lake (while Kevin and Gus acted it out in the background to hype up the tale) and all four of them were smiling and laughing. Sitting at the end of the table, his beady eyes taking in the entire scene, was Mr. SnuggleLots.

"Dipper! Welcome back!" said Mabel as she noticed her awestruck brother. She walked up to him and took him by the hands. "Welcome to the tea party! Your seat is right over here next to Mr. SnuggleLots! Don't worry, he hasn't been biting anything since he ate my half of Papyrus's scarf. Come on, this way!"

Dipper let himself be guided by Mabel as she sat him down at his seat. Now that he was at the table, he noticed all of them had a designated name. Starting from Dan's seat, and working clockwise, the seats were as follows.

Daniel

Marcus

Gus

Kevin

Toriel

Frisk

Mabel

Mr. SnuggleLots

Dipper

Wendy

Francine

...Francine? Who was-?

"ALRIGHT EVERYONE!" Hollered Dan, clinking a glass so hard that it sounded like swords clashing. "THE TEA PARTY HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN! THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING, AND ON BEHALF OF THE MABEL PINES ORGANIZATION-"

"Yes my friends, that is actually a thing!!!" piped Mabel.

"-WE HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY YOUR TIME HERE! NOW, DRINK UP!"

Everybody swarmed the table, plopping down in their designated seats and engaging in lively conversation. The Corduroys, minus Wendy, clashed their mugs together like they were beer mugs, then blew on their cups and gently sipped on them because they were actually hot mugs of tea, not cold jugs of beer. Toriel was giggling as Frisk had managed to get roped into another story that Mabel was telling to Mr. SnuggleLots, whose reactions were proving that he could always understand English like Dipper hypothesized. Looking elsewhere, the boy was pleased to notice that Toriel was looking more and more like her old self, and Wendy seemed to be lighting up from the calm but animated gathering. Dipper couldn't help but smile, happy to see that Wendy was starting to recover from her frustration from the recent lack of sleep.

But in the midst of this discussion, Dipper noticed that the seat of Francine was still vacant.

"Wondering about the empty seat, kiddo?" Wendy spoke up, Dipper tearing his gaze away from the seat to look at her.

"Um... y-yeah I suppose," said Dipper, cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. "Is it..."

"A seat for my mom? I'm afraid so, champ," said Wendy, giving a gentle smile and taking a hearty sip of her tea now that it had cooled down enough. "Francine Corduroy. Better known by her nickname, Manly Fran."

Dipper looked down, not knowing how to reply. As he looked up, he saw Toriel on the other side. She appeared to have overheard the conversation.

"Manly Fran?" repeated Dipper.

"Yep, believe it or not, my dad was always a fan of tea time. His masculine attitude was a rather late addition. It's how he makes sure that her legacy lives on, I suppose. Though I bet that most of what he does nowadays would just make my Mom howl."

"Did she enjoy tea?" Toriel blurted, before putting a paw to her mouth. It seems she didn't mean to speak out loud.

"Oh she loved it, especially if Dad was the one who made it," Wendy gave a warm laugh. "Her adoration for it is the reason my dad didn't abandon it when she passed..." she takes her napkin and gently dabs at her eyes. "It's our way of honoring her. We do this every memorial. It is... one of my favorite nights every year. It's cool that we managed to find an excuse to do it tonight, but... it just wouldn't feel right to have it without that one empty seat, even if this one isn't for her, you know?"

"I assume that the atmosphere here is... a lot less lively during the day of her passing..." Toriel's voice quivered near the end.

"Oh, you couldn't be further from the truth," snorted Wendy in laughter. "If anything, tonight's positive vibes are subdued compared to the anniversary of her passing. The whole day is filled with stories, memories, laughs, and endless tea for anyone who asked for it. I know it seems backwards to be that jovial during a day of remembrance for a dead family member who was a part of all of our lives- and don't get me wrong, there is a fair share of crying as well- but hey... if we're gonna remember her every year, we all knew that it would be better, and healthier in the long run, to fill the day with as many smiles as there are tears."

Wendy tilted her eyes towards the ceiling. She gave a kiss to the air, gestured her mug to it, and finished the rest of her tea. "Ahhhhhh..."

"That's... that's incredible," said Toriel, wiping her eyes.

"Oh, the tea was cold enough at this point," Wendy assured. "If it was fresh from the kettle, there's no way that-"

"No, I mean... the way your family honors your late mother. It's....... I've never thought of it that way. 'As many smiles as there are tears...'"

"Words straight from my Old Lady," said Wendy, leaning back in her seat.

Toriel looked down, silent. She witnessed her reflection in the steaming liquid. She managed a smile. "Wise words to be sure. I would've loved to meet her."

"She would've loved to meet everyone here," said Wendy with a courteous smirk, before heading out of her seat to quickly pour herself a second mug.

The topic of Francine drifted off soon after, and eventually everyone was back to jovial discussions that were occasionally sprinkled with a bark or a yip. All the while, the smile on Mr. SnuggleLots's face never wavered.

About an hour and a half passed before the mood died down enough to declare that the table should be cleared off. The kids had reconvened to discuss the night.

"I guess we managed to check off almost all the boxes on your Rehabiliteddy Program™, Mabel," said Frisk.

"Oh right, I forgot that that program had multiple steps," said Dipper, proving that Mabel had relied on this program before.

"Right... we still have no idea if this guy has an owner out looking for him," reminded Mabel.

"Or whether or not the owner ever want's him back," cautioned Frisk.

"Or even whether or not the owner is a human, or a bear, or something else entirely," added Dipper.

The kids went silent, stewing in all the questions that were unanswered.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Everybody in the house froze. Toby started growling at the front door.

"Helloooo?!" came a muffled, ragged voice of an elder woman from the other side of the door. "Pardon the disturbance! I just need to know if something passed this way! A Teddy bear to be specific! One that's alive, to be more specific!"

The kids shared a glance at Mr. SnuggleLots who was being playfully tossed around by the Corduroy brothers. Did the voice truly belong to the bear's owner?

Frisk shimmered orange for a second, deciding that there was only one way to find out. "I'll get the door."

"Wait, hang on a second, Frisk-!" tried Dipper.

But Frisk had already marched toward the door and opened it.

On the other side was a heavily hunching, stubby old woman. Her skin was heavily wrinkled and had a sickly green complexion. Her hair was gray to the point of looking white, and there was a cobweb or two that was nestled in her shabby locks. And she was wearing a tattered cloak that was decorated with two giant shadows of disembodied hands.

"Hand Witch!!!" cheered Mabel, recognizing the kind hag.

"Well welllllllllll! If it isn't the lady who helped redecorate my caaaaaaave!" dragged the delighted witch. "And the boy as welllllllll! Good to see you!!! I don't recognize the kid in the striped sweater though..."

"Wait, the Hand Witch?" said Wendy, cocking an eyebrow in bafflement. "I thought you were just some myth that Stanley cooked up to sell his overpriced molds of decapitated hands."

"Nope, he and I go way back!" said the Hand Witch proudly. "Thanks to the kind metal-teethed lady, I finally know what it's like to have a sweet heart!"

"You have a boyfriend!!?" squealed Mabel in excitement, slapping her hands to her cheeks.

"Hm? Oh no, he broke things off with me weeks ago," explained the Hand Witch, cheerfully adding, "So I boiled him up and ate his heart! Hearts are surprisingly sugary after you cook them!"

Mabel looked like her own mom told her that Santa Claus got killed in a sleigh accident. "W.... What...?"

The Hand Witch laughed awkwardly. "That was a joke. I thought I was being obvious about that, sorry. We're still together!" she continued, holding up a photo of herself smiling happily and holding hands with... a pale skinned, wrinkly man with unfocused yellow eyes, crooked brown teeth, shaggy dirty hair, and a giant gaping hole in his chest. "I did eat his heart for real, though. He's a ghoul now."

"Oh, okay then!" said Mabel, calming down quite a bit, not appearing to care about the whole eating-hearts thing. Dipper probably did though, considering how creeped out he looked.

Frisk on the other hand marched straight up to the witch and stuck their hand out. "Frisk Dreemurr, Ambassador of Monsters from the Underground. Pleased to meet you."

"Ooooooooooooooo, such delicate haaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnds~! Um, I mean, the pleasure is all mine!" said the Hand Witch, eagerly shaking Frisk's hand with both of hers.

"Am I to understand that you are the owner of this Nocturnal Teddy Bear?" asked Frisk, seemingly unphased by the Hand Witch dragging the hand shake on for a little too long.

"Yep!" nodded the Hand Witch. "Good ol' Beelzecub is my own creation! Did you kids cross paths with him by any chance?"

"Beelze-what???" Mabel stumbled over her words, when suddenly she felt something land on her head. It was Mr. SnuggleLots, recognizing the witch.

"Ah! There he is!" exclaimed the witch. "Beelzecub! You sure gave me a work out that is only sure to worsen my distorted spine! Why'd you run off?! Was it something I said? Or did? Was it something I didn't say or do? Speak to me Beelzecub! Speak to me, even though I know you can't talk! Was it because you thought I couldn't handle raising you when you turned out to be more of a bear than I intended?!

"What do you mean by him being more of a bear than you intended?" asked Toriel, approaching the group.

"My goal was to create the most Teddy Bearish sentient Teddy Bear to ever roam Gravity Falls!" bellowed the witch, imaginary thunder and lightning booming behind her. "But what came out... acted a lot more like your average bear cub."

"So you abandoned him?!" realized Toriel.

"Absolutely not! I raised him like any well-respected mother should do! Anyone who abandons a child if they don't come out exactly like they intended was never meant to be a parent at all!"

"I mean... do the rules of parenting apply here?" said Dipper, a little perplexed by this strange scenario. "What do you think, Frisk? ....Frisk?"

Frisk suddenly shook out of their stupor. "Hm?"

"Do you think the Hand Witch should treat Mr. SnuggleLots like he's her son?" said Dipper.

"Oh um, I suppose so. She did create him and all."

"See Dipper?!" said Mabel, nudging him. "I knew that Necromancy could be used for good!"

"I'm pretty sure necromancy doesn't apply here," grumbled Dipper.

"If he knows I created him, then why did my boy run away from home???" said a downtrodden Hand Witch. "I did my best to raise him right in the three weeks that I had him..."

There was silence among the group, nobody knowing how to approach this extremely weird conundrum. Even Waddles and Toby were silent.

The silence was broken by a familiar growl from a stomach made of stuffing.

"Oh!" said the Hand Witch, noticing the Teddy bear. "Are you still hungry, Beelzecub? I have a nice plate of fresh fish waiting for you at home!"

The bear said nothing.

Mabel got up to the hag's ear. "Try calling him Mr. SnuggleLots."

"Hm? That's a weird name..." nevertheless, the Hand Witch cleared her dry throat. "Oh Mr. SnuggleLoooooooootssssssss! There's a plate of fish with your name on it if you accompany Mama back to the caaaaaaaaaaave!"

The Trio, the pets, the Corduroys, and Toriel all watched as Mr. SnuggleLots's face turned a sickly green at the mention of fish, the poor bear looking absolutely nauseous.

And everything made sense.

"Mrs. Hand Witch," said Mabel, standing straight. "I believe we know why your pet Teddy ran away from home."

Dipper stood up next. "The reason for him leaving you was not because you were a bad role model, but rather..."

"You were feeding your child literal garbage," finished Frisk.

"B-but, look at him!" pleaded the Hand Witch. "He clearly acts like a... well... huh, actually he's acting pretty much how I envisioned him to act when I made him."

Dipper paced the room, stroking his chin. "I believe that what you had been dealing with was simply a side effect of a hungry Mr. SnuggleLots. It would appear, based on our experience, that the hungrier that Mr. SnuggleLots gets, the more animalistic he becomes. And this is not unheard of; I know a great number of people who display similar behavior when they're hungry. Take Mabel for example. Mabel!"

"Present!" said Mabel, raising her hand.

"Answer honestly! Do you, or do you not, start to growl like gremlin whenever breakfast takes longer than usual to be served?"

"I do!" said Mabel. "I also start biting the table legs!"

"Now then, Ms. Hand Witch," said Dipper, pointing at the witch who was taking notes. "Would you say that Mabel's behavior is well mannered, or not?"

"It isn't," Frisk chimed in. "But it is very much a quality that defines Mabel, and should never be corrected."

Mabel couldn't help but smile at that.

"So wait, hang on," said Wendy. "You mean to tell me that all of this crazy behavior was happening because Mr. SnuggleLots was hangry?"

"You are absolutely correct, Wendy." said Dipper, before returning his focus to the friendly crone. "The point we're trying to make here, Mrs. Hand Witch, is that when you created Mr. SnuggleLots, he was born without any food in his belly. He was starving. And he left your cave because what you were feeding him is not what he eats. It isn't fish, or bugs, or even honey. It is-!"

"Fabric!" said Mabel from behind Dipper, throwing confetti out of her hands. Where she got the confetti from was information that only she knew about.

"So, all that you need to do is change what you feed him," informed Frisk with their index finger up. "If you can't get over feeding him bear-food, then do it in the form of fabric. Knit a fish-doll. Use a yellow spool of yarn in place of a beehive. Things like that. Do that on top of everything else you've been doing for him, and you should be fine."

"I see, I see!" said the Hand Witch, enchanted by the new information. "I shall update his meal planner right away! Whaddya say to that, Beelz- um, I mean, Mr. SnuggleLots? Wow, that's going to take some getting used to... Ahem, well, Mr. SnuggleLots, how 'bout it? Ready to head back to our sweet little cave?"

Mr. SnuggleLots slowly crawled up to the Hand Witch... and gently chewed on her robe. Not eating it. Just chewing it.

"Looks like he's willing to give you another chance," said Frisk smiling.

The hag cackled with glee, picking the bear up and spinning him around. "Mama has missed you sooooooooooooo much!"

Mabel smiled at the happy reunion... but try as she may, she couldn't stop herself from choking up. "I'm gonna miss you, *sniff* Mr. SnuggleLots! Don't forget about me, you- you hear me?! I forbid it!!!"

"There there, sis," soothed Dipper, patting his sister on the back. He looked back to the bear, and gave a gentle yell. "Stay out of trouble from now on, okay buddy?"

"Your mother loves you very much! You're very blessed to have someone like her!" Frisk chimed in. "Don't forget to thank her occasionally!"

The sentient Teddy smiled and nodded, giving one final wave to the kids before the door to the cabin gently shut behind him and the hag.

"Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" came the over-the-top wails of Mabel Pines.

"And here come the post-Teddy-bear Blues," sighed Dipper, giving his sister a big hug.

"Ah, so this is a normal occurrence?" asked Frisk.

"Yep," nodded the capped twin. "She is incredibly loyal to any Teddy bear she encounters. You would not believe the number of times I've had to drag her away from various Lost and Found departments because she gave them a lost Teddy bear and couldn't will herself to part with it."

"Heh," chuckled Wendy. "I guess she couldn't bear saying goodbye to any of them, huh?"

The whole room went silent. Well, almost silent; Toriel took everyone by surprise with her giggles.

"You've been hanging out with Sans too much," snarled Dipper at Wendy.

"The guy's a hoot! Shut up!" laughed Wendy.

"At- at any rate," said Toriel, composing herself, "We should be heading out."

"Wait! We should try to help Wendy out with her sleeping problems!" said Mabel, having snapped out of her state of weeping. "I was going to suggest Mr. SnuggleLots but... he's gone now..." annnnnnnnnnnd the tears resumed.

"Meh, that wouldn't have worked out," said Wendy. "It's right in his species' name: Nocturnal. He'd be up all night, and I'd be spending the whole time taking care of him, instead of getting any sleep. But... it did give me an idea. I think having a stuffed animal would help me get to sleep."

"You want a what???" called Dan, his voice becoming a calm growl.

Wendy sighed and tightened her fists. No backing out now. She was a daughter of Francine Corduroy, and dang it, she was going to act like one.

"You heard me, Dad! You all heard me! I am done with the December noise! You all wanna holler about the upcoming New Year, do it outside! The pub, the woods, the sewers, I don't care! Just do it away from me when I'm trying to sleep! As for the stuffed animal, heck yeah I want one! I've always wanted one, why not!? They're soft, they're quiet, they'll help me sleep, and they don't even cost that much, Dad!"

"Dang, she's going off," said Dipper, almost mesmerized.

"'Tis the wrath of the teenager," said Mabel with deep respect towards the red-haired girl. "A power that you and I will soon acquire for ourselves, brother."

"And... A-and...!" Wendy stammered.

The room went quiet from bated breath.

"AND IF ANY OF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT, I'LL SUPLEX YOU INTO A MOUNTAIN!!!"

There was silence. Not a peep was uttered from any of the Corduroys. Wendy simply waited, puffing and panting...

"BWAAAAAAAAAH HAH HAH HAH!!!" Dan howled with laughter. "THAT'S MY GIRL~!"

"Pardon?" said Wendy.

"First thing tomorrow, we'll stop by the local toy store. You can pick out whichever one you want! The boys wouldn't stop pestering me about it anyway. As for the New Years noise..."

Wendy tensed up.

"Baby girl, I'm gonna be honest, it completely slipped my mind how busy you are with the shack. I promise to take the noise elsewhere. And if you ever catch me forgetting that promise, you have permission to wack me upside the head with your late mother's favorite frying pan."

"You're kidding," said Wendy with a flabbergasted smile.

"Nope, you know I don't kid around with you or any of the boys," said Dan with pride.

"Heh... thanks Dad," said Wendy sheepishly, thinking to herself, Looks like Undyne isn't boasting around when she's giving advice. I keep forgetting that she was a Captain during her time underground.

"Victory for Wendy!!!" cheered Mabel, throwing more confetti from seemingly out of nowhere.

"And with th-thaaaaaattttttt..." Toriel said before letting out a massive yawn of her own. "I believe it's time that we headed home."

As the kids, the pets, and Toriel made their way back home in their winter garb (Mabel now donning a decently lengthed spaghetti scarf thanks to Mr. SnuggleLots biting it down to size), Frisk slowed their pace, drifting away from the kids until the stoic faced child was side by side with their mother.

"Frisk?" said Toriel, curious as to why her child fell behind.

"I knew that today was Asriel's birthday. I knew the whole time."

"!!!"

"And when I found out that you stole the living room TV, I realized it was because you were planning to spend the day alone in your room with the videotape of his birthday. I... I wanted his birthday to be a day of celebration. A day where you and Dad could come together, if only for the one day. I..."

Toriel said nothing. She just picked her child up and held them close to her as she walked. Frisk buried their face in her shoulder, their tiny hands gripping onto her robe.

"I got..." whimpered the child. "...I got so mad when I found out that you were planning to spend the day away from me... from Dad... from everyone. If anything, we could've at least helped you carry the burden of all the grief the day brings you. So... So I stole the videotape in the hope that you would abandon looking for it and spend time with us instead. I should've told you, I know... but... I was scared you'd just turn me away... I'm sorry..."

"Oh, Frisk," comforted the remorseful mother. "You don't have to apologize for anything..."

"...except for stealing."

That earned her a muffled chuckle. Okay, good.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize here. I should have never secluded myself from the group, from Asgore, and especially from you. If you knew that today was his birthday, you must've been grieving a bit yourself. And there is no doubt that Asgore was coping with his own grief as well."

She felt Frisk silently nod against her.

"Did you overhear the conversation I was having with Wendy, Frisk?"

"...A bit."

"Well," said Toriel, giving a murmur of a giggle as she ran a paw through Frisk's hair soothingly, "She told me something that I feel silly for not considering sooner. About how the anniversary of a lost loved one should be filled with laughter, not just grief. I promise you, this is the last night where I suffer in a room by myself on my dear Asriel's birthday."

"Really?"

"I swear it, my child."

Frisk pulled back to look their mom in the eyes and smile. "Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, my dear sweet Frisk," cooed Toriel, brushing her snout against Frisk's nose endearingly. "Would you like me to set you down?"

"Please," said Frisk. "I just remembered something I want to tell Mabel."

"Of course, sweetie," said Toriel, setting Frisk back down on the snowy ground. "I suppose we can consider this to be the end of the conversation that we both promised earlier to continue."

"Okay, Mom," said a beaming Frisk, before running up to rejoin the group and say...

"Hey Mabel, don't you owe your brother fifty dollars now or something? The owner of the bear turned out to be a witch after all."

"Huh... that's right! Alright, Mabel! Hand over the dough!"

"I don't owe you squat! I refused that deal, remember?! Frisk, you're my witness! Back me up here!"

"I plead the fifth~"

"Traitor!"

The next day was a whirlwind of activity. The Mystery Shack finally reopened, and it turned out that everyone's fear of a swarm was unwarranted, as there was no swarm. But, there was something new about the visitors that kept things interesting.

Monsters were beginning to visit the shack. Of all shapes and sizes, inhabitants of the underground were stopping buy to peruse the gift shop or experience a tour of the museum. Of notice, there was a dummy that was very brash and loud, but was very respectful when asked to shush. There was a purple spider humanoid that was creepily polite as she bought herself a few Mystery Shack Mugs™ and left a flyer on the counter for the 'First Spider Bake Sale on the Surface!' before tittering and leaving the store. There was even a humanoid cat and alligator that stopped by that Wendy just knew her ragtag of friends would get along with.

Wendy looked like she had a face lift with how much better she looked. At Mabel's curiosity, Wendy spoke about how once this shift is over, she's heading out with her family to visit the toy store and get a toy for each of the kids, and that's when she'll be able to pick out her stuffed animal to sleep with.

"But honestly, I still have no idea what kind of stuffed animal I want right now..."

That's when a peculiar critter, with the cutest face and voice that Wendy had ever seen, passed through the door, followed by 19 lookalikes.

"Hoi! I'm Temmie! Is this the Mystewy Shack???"

Wendy knew exactly what kind of stuffed animal she wanted now.

But it wasn't just monsters showing up. Candy and Grenda finally passed through now that they could, and Mabel nearly knocked Grenda over with her pounce-hug. They spent the whole time preparing sleepovers, catching up, and promising other times to meet up that weren't sleepover-related.

Old Man McGucket passed by as well! He needed a batch of normal AA batteries. When Dipper asked him what invention he needed the batteries for, he hooted and hollered, saying they weren't for him. They were for the alarm clock for his new lab assistant, simply named 'P.N.' Something about that name struck Dipper as familiar, but McGucket had left the store before the boy could ask him anything else.

Frisk had bumped into someone roughly their size. The other kid was in very suspicious clothing: A tiny trench coat, a fedora, and sunglasses. The only thing Frisk heard from the kid was a simple phrase spoken in a boyish, and ridiculously southern, voice. "If anyone asks, I was never here. Good day."

The Mystery Trio was certain the day was over when Wendy left with her family, flipping the sign from 'Got money? We're Open!' to 'Begone from this cursed place! We're Closed!' on her way out. But it wasn't over.

Toriel had been missing for most of the day, much to the Trio's confusion, the only clue given to them was that she had asked Stanley if there was any flour left over from the errands he was running when Tim attacked. Now, they were about to find out why.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN," rang Papyrus's voice. "THE EX-QUEEN OF THE UNDERGROUND HAS AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS ORDERS YOU TO PLEASE HALT WHATEVER IT IS YOU'RE DOING AND PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT SHE HAS TO SAY! ALSO IF SOMEONE COULD TELL WHY MY SCARF GOT SO MUCH SHORTER OVERNIGHT, THAT WOULD BE FANTASTIC-"

"As I told you, I will explain everything to you soon," a giggling Toriel promised the uptight skeleton, waiting until everyone had congregated in the living room and kitchen before continuing. "My friends, I owe you all an apology."

The whole crew went quiet as Toriel went on.

"Some of you know- and for those that don't, I apologize for holding this secret from you- that yesterday was the birthday of our departed prince of the underground, Asriel Dreemurr."

Gasps were heard all around.

"I spoke nothing of this occasion previously because I didn't want anybody to know. I wanted to grieve alone. I wasn't even willing to share the grief with my ex-husband, Asriel's father, Asgore. My time of grieving for all these years had made me grow distant and selfish."

She spared a glance to Asgore before closing her eyes, sighing, and proceeding.

"Yesterday, a chance encounter with Wendy's family opened my eyes to something. If I'm going to remember Asriel's passing for every year when his birthday comes around, I'm doing my poor child a horrible disservice by not celebrating. By not smiling. By not laughing. By not spending it with those who were close to him and the friends of those close to him.

She looked to everyone. The misty eyed Stan twins. The Papyrus who was trying his best not to shriek like a dog whistle. The Sans who looked lively for once. The Undyne and Alphys who were looking pumped as all heck. The joyous Mettaton. The smiling Napstablook. The Asgore grinning from ear to ear. And the Mystery Trio, who were slowly realizing what she was about to say next.

"So who wants to help me bake a cake?!"

As pandemonium continued to ensue in the kitchen, Toriel found a moment to pull Asgore aside. They both were now sitting quietly on the couch of the back porch.

"Everything alright?" asked Asgore.

"In the grand scheme of things, absolutely not," answered Toriel with brutal honesty. "Our child is still dead. And with him, 6 other children fell. By your cursed trident."

Asgore could only look down, well acquainted with the crushing shame that coursed through him.

"But... today is a tribute to Asriel's birthday. And you were... are... his father."

Toriel finally looked the ex-King in the eyes. "I may never forgive you for what you did after we lost Asriel. However... you were the best father a boy like him could've ever hoped for. And you continue to be that father for our little Frisk. For that... I cannot thank you enough."

"...that's all the thanks I could ever ask of you, Toriel." said Asgore with a sad smile. "I appreciate you telling me."

Despite herself, Toriel gave a small smile. "Come inside. Cake is almost ready, and I'm not going to sit and listen to your whining if you aren't quick enough to nab a piece."

"Ha ha ha, of course," beamed Asgore.

"♫♫HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUU!♫♫"

The band of misfits finished the terribly sung rendition of the ancient tune. And yet, it was music to Toriel's ears.

She looked up to the ceiling, wiping her eyes and smiling.

"Make a wish, little one~"

"Mabel, Frisk, you guys go on ahead. I'll be right behind you as soon as I'm done with something!"

"Okie dokie!"

"Understood. See you in the morning, Dipper."

Dipper was just on his way to a long needed nightly rest, when he remembered a very important question he wanted to ask Toriel. This was why he approached her as she was getting ready to settle into her bed with a good book.

"Hey, Toriel?"

"Yes, Dipper?"

"In all the excitement from last night and today, I forgot that there was something I wanted to ask."

"Ha ha ha, and what would that be?"

"Yesterday night... I was watching the tape after you left, and... I couldn't help but notice that there was another child in the background."

"Another child?"

"Yeah! They were looking away from the camera a lot but I think they looked like a human... Who were they?"

Toriel gave a bemused smile. Her face was one of pure honesty, and when she answered, her words came straight from the heart.

And that's why what she said next did not sit well with Dipper at all.

"Dipper, sweetheart, I'm afraid I don't understand. Asriel was the only child we had in our family. I don't remember raising anyone alongside him. Who is this this other child that you claim to see?"

A day spent remembering the passing of a loved one is better went it's filled with laughter and good company. Solitude and grief is necessary, but extended doses of it can be harmful.

Credits Scene

"Tadaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" cheered the Hand Witch. "I present to you, my dearest Mr. SnuggleLots, with the first round of your new meals!"

The Teddy bear was currently seated at the table, the latter donned with a table cloth and three covered platters.

The first platter unveiled a perfectly crocheted fish, with light-blue scales made of yarn and beads for eyes.

The second platter revealed a giant spool of yellow and brown yarn, representing a beehive.

The third platter showcased a plethora of colorful beads, which symbolized different berries and bugs.

"So which one will it beeeeeeeeee?" dramatized the Hand Witch excitedly. "Take your pick! It's all up to you!"

Mr. SnuggleLots took a very decent amount of time examining all three tasty fabric-treats...

...

Before eating the tablecloth.

"Ah, I see," said the witch, dumbstruck. "You are... quite the picky eater."

Mr. SnuggleLots only smiled at her, his cheeks puffed up from the tablecloth currently in his mouth.

.- / - --- .- ... - / - --- / - .... . / ..-. .- -- .. .-.. -.-- ---. / - --- / - .... . / .--. .-. .. -. -.-. . --..-- / -- --- ..- .-. -. . -.. / -... -.-- / .- .-.. .-.. ---. .-.-.. .- -. -.. / --- -. . / - --- / - .... . / -.-. .... .. .-.. -.. / - .... .- - / -. --- / --- -. . / -.-. .- -. / .-. . -.-. .- .-.. .-.. ---.

NEXT (Coming soon to the Mystery Shack!)

PART 1

PART 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

ONCE UPON A TIME...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

#IT IS DONE #AFTER FOUR YEARS #CHAPTER 7 IS FINALLY COMPLETE #See you all in 2030 for chapter 8! XD #gravity falls #undertale #underfalls #gravitytale

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sustraiii · 4 years

Text

TEAM ZRCN ARC 3 - CHAPTER 5

Depression hour has arrived.

Helia reveals what went down on Shizukana to a confused Team ZRCN, and a new recurring character finally makes her long awaited appearance.

Many thanks to @neopoliitan for offering to proof read once again.

XANTHOS

The group had headed out to Cordovan’s home in Mantle after a quick call to Professor Velour to confirm that the Sabyrs had been dealt with and give her a brief rundown over what was happening. It was hard to ignore Helia’s warning.

“You’re in danger.”

But danger from what exactly? Xanthos was desperate for someone to ask, but even he had deemed it inappropriate to press the issue - especially given the urgency in Helia’s voice when she had requested somewhere safe to talk.

Depending on who or what they were in danger of, going to Cordovan’s house might not have been the safest idea in hindsight, but it was their best option outside of the Academy - which wasn’t exactly private.

Xanthos came to a halt as they approached, having spotted someone sitting on the steps leading up to the porch, and made a show of pointing them out. “Um, who is that?”

“Who are you talking about?” Cordovan questioned as he pushed forward to get a better look. His confused expression quickly furrowed to a more annoyed one as he let out an exasperated sigh, “Rosie…”

Stepping ahead of the group commandingly, Cordovan approached the young girl who was sitting on the steps. Her head was buried in a magazine, but when she heard someone approach she looked up immediately - a glare of suspicion swiftly softening with apparent recognition.

“Hi Corduroy, what are you doing here?” She asked cheerfully, jumping to her feet.

“What are you doing here, Rosie?” Cordovan fired back, folding his arms as he spoke. “Shouldn’t you be staying at Mrs Clearwater’s house?”

“I should,” Rosie confirmed with a sly smile. “But she smells funny and I don’t like the way her cat looks at me. It looked like it was going to eat me. Probably could too, the ugly thing was big enough.”

Cordovan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “So what was the plan here, Rosie - were you just going to wait for me or my mom to come home and maybe freeze in the process, or was it something else?”

Rosie looked up at him blankly before shrugging her shoulders. “I dunno. I didn’t think that far ahead.”

As he and the others closed the distance between them and their teammate, Xanthos was struck at the similarities between Cordovan and the girl; both of them shared the same messy reddish-brown hair, brown eyes and fair complexion. The only notable difference was the girl had freckles, while Cordovan did not. She wore a slightly oversized flannel shirt, half tucked into a pair of cropped, faded jeans.

Sensing the two could have gone back and forth for a while, Xanthos stepped up and interrupted the pair with a light cough. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” he asked.

Cordovan hesitated for a moment, and Xanthos saw him glance nervously towards Rosie, who in turn met his gaze. “This is Rosie. She’s my, uh, cousin -- from my dad’s side... hence the hair.”

The girl looked down at the concrete between her white canvas shoes. “Yeah, what he said - we’re... cousins.”

“Anyway,” Cordovan cut in, looking around at the gathered party and withdrawing a key from his pocket. “Shall we go inside?”

He unlocked the door and the six of them all shuffled inside. Cordovan made a brief, mumbled comment about making some drinks for everyone, then swiftly disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, closely watched by Rosie. As they waited for Cordovan, the four of them headed to the living room to make themselves comfortable, though no one seemed in much of a hurry to sit down.

This wasn’t the first time Xanthos had been in Cordovan’s home, but it was the first time he had noted some subtle changes. It remained as cluttered as ever, but it appeared as though there had been a conscious effort to at least neaten things up. Books that had once taken up nearly all the spare space in the living room had now been neatly stacked on newly built shelves. Niche decorative items that had once filled the mantlepiece were now replaced with more tasteful decor though Xanthos noted a small pink cat figure lingered behind, and he assumed that was at the behest of Rosie. He wondered if many of the changes were due to her presence around the home, as opposed to general desire of wanting the place to look tidier.

Silence filled the room for what felt like several minutes. It was not interrupted by Cordovan’s return, but instead by heavy breathing coming from the doorway. Instinctively turning to face the source of the noise, Xanthos saw the girl - Rosie - stood there, staring intently at Helia.

“You’re Helia Vines.” It was said as less of a question and more of a statement. Xanthos wondered if she hadn’t paid much attention as to who was present when talking to the Cordovan.

“Yes, I am.” Helia confirmed, with a small nod.

Rosie let out a little squeak of excitement before she started babbling incredibly fast, an action which Xanthos could only describe as fangirling of the most extreme kind. When she had finished rambling, she seemed to settle, and directed a question at the veteran huntress in a more restrained tone. “Would you sign my doll?”

“Sure.”

Clearly thrilled at the response, Rosie did a small fist pump before turning on the spot and darting upstairs - likely to retrieve the aforementioned doll.

Once the girl had left the room and was out of earshot, Helia turned to Xanthos, Neela and Zelde and gave them a nervous smile. “You know I’ve had a lot of merchandise made for me, but I don’t remember dolls being one of them.”

“She reminds me of my sister.” Xanthos said softly, a faint smile forming on his lips as he thought of Marisol. It had been a long time since he had spoken to her - with the CCT being down - but he hoped she and their mother were okay.

“Don’t tell me your sister owned potentially creepy homemade dolls too.” Neela teased.

“I was referring to the enthusiasm actually, Nee,” Xanthos responded with a wink. “But if you must know, Marisol prefers plushies.”

Cordovan reappeared carrying in a tray of drinks for them all. He seemed to time his reappearance poorly - Rosie also reappeared at the exact same time, nearly tripping him up as she tried to jump ahead of him.

“Rosie!” Cordovan exclaimed, only just managing to keep his balance. Xanthos lifted himself slightly out of his seat to aid his friend - a reflex informed by Cordovan’s recent handicap - but the other student righted himself. He stepped further into the living room and set down the tray on the coffee table, before turning to face his cousin.

“What were you doing running in front of me like that? Surely you could see me coming.”

“Helia said she’d sign my doll!” Rosie responded, quickly showing everyone the doll in question. In truth, it wasn’t as bad as Xanthos had been expecting; he could at least see what the doll was meant to be. If Helia had electric green hair and disproportionate limbs, it might have been a perfect match.

“You can do that later,” Cordovan said, trying to usher her away. “We’ve got grown-up things to talk about.”

Rosie had been co-operating until he referred to her age, which prompted her to stop and put her hands on her hips. “I’m eight, not seven!” She chided. “You don’t have to speak to me like a child.”

“I’m not - “ Cordovan paused to groan. “I didn’t mean it like that. Listen, I’m not trying to be rude, but there really is something urgent we need to talk about. Something that you don’t need to hear right now. When we’re done you’re welcome to come and pester us again.”

“Do you promise?” She batted her eyelashes at him expectantly.

He seemed taken aback by this question before shrugging his shoulders. “I guess so. I made you a hot chocolate if you-”

“Does it have marshmallows in it?” Rosie asked, suddenly perking up with interest. She had already begun to move towards the table, eyeing up a pink cup as she approached.

“No, it doesn’t have marshmallows in it.”

By the time Rosie had turned to respond she had already grabbed the cup with her spare hand. “Well, next time you owe me marshmallows -- but I’ll let it slide as your friends are here.” She smirked. Running past him and hurrying out of the room, she called to the others. “Bye Corduroy! Bye Corduroy’s friends!”

“‘Corduroy’, huh?” Xanthos mused, scratching his chin as he spoke. “I may have to use that.”

“Please, don’t.” Cordovan said, shooting him a warning glance before he eventually took a seat in one of the armchairs like Helia, with the rest of ZRCN once again huddling onto the sofa. There were a few minutes of awkward silence before Zelde got the ball rolling on why Helia had been so urgent to find somewhere to talk.

“What did you mean when you said we were in danger?”

Helia shifted uncomfortably in her seat, leaning forward to grab her drink. She traced a finger around the rim of the cup before looking up. “Do you remember what happened when we confronted Farron on Shizukana?”

Save for Cordovan, everyone else in the room had been present during the final confrontation with Farron’s people. It had been over six months now, but the event was still easily recallable to Xanthos. After a moment, he, Zelde, and Neela all nodded their heads, allowing Helia to continue.

“Do you remember what Wisteria said to him?” She asked. “Her ‘reveal’.”

“She said she didn’t work for him…” Zelde’s voice trailed off softly, already beginning to understand what Helia was trying to say. Xanthos was a bit slower on the draw.

“The people she worked for are the ones who are after us?” He questioned, looking to Helia for confirmation. “But why? We didn’t do anything to them! If anything, I got the impression we’d helped them take out a competitor of sorts. Why would they want to hurt us?” There was a brief pause before he quickly added, “Did they send the robots? Why?”

“Because you know too much.” Helia said.

Neela snorted a little. “Do we? I thought this was all resolved.”

“So did I,” Helia agreed before Xanthos noted her crumpling into her chair. It was only then he noticed how defeated she seemed in that moment. “But I was wrong.”

It was Cordovan who dared to ask the final question. “What happened, Helia?”

The huntress sniffed loudly, tears forming in her eyes. “My team and I had been talking about reuniting for months - a few weeks ago we finally agreed to meet up on Shizukana. It was the first time we were all in a room together after we went our separate ways... I was so excited to see them all again. It was only our third night when it all went wrong.”

She lowered her head and took a long steadying breath before looking back up at them. “The real people Wisteria was working for decided to make an appearance - Wisteria, too - and they literally blew apart Leyla’s house. Leyla herself was knocked out, and the rest of us were dazed but we could still fight. Anthea and I tried to hold off two unknown attackers, but they were stronger and got the upper hand on us. Alcyone was the only one left standing by the end. We told her to stop and give up, that fighting would get us nowhere, but she was always stubborn - always thought she knew best.”

Helia looked away, and Xanthos noted she had a pained smile. “Then a white-haired bitch skewered her with a spear.” She revealed grimly.

“Fucking hell,” Xanthos cursed aloud.

Helia was beginning to cry, but she was too determined to finish her story to succumb to tears. “I should have stayed with her in those final moments. I’ll always regret that I didn't. But I was confused and angry - who were these people, why had they come here and done this to us?

“Other than Wisteria I had no connection to them, and the only thing they had told us was that the whole thing was a warning. A warning for what though? Why? Over and Over again I asked them. Eventually Wisteria knocked me aside like I was nothing and I was too weak to stand back up. She warned me against rising to my feet and I listened to her.”

She took a shaky sip from her cup. “I’d like to say the white-haired woman took some pity as she approached me, but there was no pity in those blood-red eyes. Only malice and pleasure. I think she actively enjoyed seeing me suffer. And then she told me that this was all a warning. A warning for me and Leyla, but mostly for you. Anthea and Alcyone were just a nice little ‘side dish’. They had ‘other things’ to do first but she warned me that eventually they’d come for you too. Then they just… left. By the time I got back, Alcyone was gone.”

Helia didn’t need to elaborate on what she meant - by now they all knew the fate Alcyone had succumbed to, what these foes were capable of. Xanthos had always thought Wisteria might have been one of the largest challenges they would face, but it was becoming apparent she was just a piece in a much larger puzzle.

Zelde was the first to move, rising to her feet and standing in front of the window in silence, clearly deep in thought. Cordovan had leaned forward and was running his hands through his bowed head. Xanthos and Neela were silent and unmoving, still trying to process what Helia had told them.

The silence in the room was soon filled by the increasingly loud sobbing of Helia, a sound that would have melted even the coldest of hearts. Neela was the first to rise to her feet and approach the veteran huntress, quietly wrapping her arms around her comfortingly. One by one, the rest of ZRCN followed suit; Cordovan, then Xanthos, and lastly Zelde. And that was where they stayed for a while, just holding and comforting each other, only breaking apart when Rosie finally ventured back downstairs again.

#team ZRCN #team zrcn fic #Zelde Sewick #Xanthos Ravindra #Cordovan Radcliff #Neela Oxford #helia vines #cousin rosie

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mahalkitajohnnysuh · 4 years

Text

With Family (Part II)

This installment will be the last for now, but rest assured that I will write more of this since it’s something I have fun thinking scenarios of.

One of my many inspirations for this part aside from my personal life was Johnny’s outfits when he went to America late last year.

Heck, I even made a collage of it with one of Adam Driver’s looks in Marriage Story because both looked so similar but had different tones! Please see image below:

In short, I really like big and tall guys. Dude has to be since I’m also like that in real life. Well, I’m not that tall, but others think that’s the case.

Anyway, mahal ko kayong lahat! :)

––��

Summary: After meeting Essie’s mother and sisters, it’s time for Johnny to meet her estranged father. Also, read more about the couple’s dynamic at home. Can you relate to them, especially those who have been in a relationship or are in a relationship? Please let me know by commenting on this post!

POV: 2nd person

Word count: 1,600 + words

Warning: Italics are for foreign terms. Since we have songs mentioned here again, please scroll down to the bottom of the post to listen to them while reading or whatnot.

–––

“Baby, wake up,” you stirred at the husky voice of your boyfriend who was gently shaking you.

“I’m awake,” you mumbled, slowly opening your eyes. You saw him in his usual brown hoodie and sweatpants, and he looked worse for wear like you are right now.

“We have to leave the house at eight,” he pulled off the covers from your body, “since we’re going to have Mass with your family.”

You stood up straight immediately and shrieked. “Oh my god, I almost forgot about that!” You covered your face in your hands, ashamed that you were almost running late and at the thought of Johnny meeting your father for the first time.

He had already met your sisters and your mother a couple of weeks ago, but now he was going to meet your estranged father.

You and your father didn’t have any beef. It was just him and your mother who had a complicated relationship. You grew in a dysfunctional family because of that, but that doesn’t mean that you love one parent more than the other.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve already met your family except…” His voice trailed off, afraid that you might not like what he was going to say next.

“Yes, you’re going to meet my father,” you dropped your hands on your lap and looked at him. He was concerned at how antsy you were feeling and kissed your forehead. “Don’t worry. I can handle him. Maybe he’s not going to handle me,” he chuckled, his hands taking in yours.

“Well, let’s see about that…” you squeezed his hands, “but we better get moving, shall we?”

He nodded and led you to the bathroom, wherein you saw your towels hanging next to each other on the rack.

“So, who’s going to take a bath first?” You let go of his hands and placed them on your hips. “Of course, I’ll be the one who goes first,” he pointed a thumb to himself as he went to the sink and plucked his toothbrush from the holder.

“Okay, why did I have to ask,” you grumbled, tugging on your shorts as you plunked yourself in the toilet. “And don’t look, just focus on brushing your teeth,” you pointed a finger at him as you shimmied yourself out of your panties.

Good thing Johnny was intent on brushing his teeth while you peed. Since he was intent on brushing all corners of his teeth, he didn’t notice that you were done until he heard the flushing of the toilet.

“Call me when you’re done with that, okay?” You said as you went back to the bedroom.

\\\

A few minutes later, Johnny was done and went back to the bedroom to tell you it was your turn to brush your teeth.

But before words came out of his mouth, he was speechless at the sight of you just in his shirt and your panties. Your butt was on full display for him as you lied on the bed scrolling through your social media feed.

He slapped your butt, and you immediately turned to see him smirking at you.

“You just had to do that, huh,” he whispered, pinching your thighs this time. You swatted his hands away from you and got up, pulling down your shirt, so he doesn’t see your panties anymore.

“Take a bath now, please,” you said as you got your toothbrush and squeezed a pea-sized amount of toothpaste. “Yes ma’am,” he purred as he removed his hoodie, revealing his perfectly sculpted body.

You tried your best to look away, but he didn’t let you – instead, he winked at you as he flexed his body in front of the mirror.

“Like what you see, baby?” He said, slowly approaching you.

You rolled your eyes in response, but deep inside you could feel your insides warming up. “Just take a bath now, please,” you said in between brushing your teeth.

He slapped your butt again before he cackled his way to the shower. “If only we weren’t in a hurry, I’d want for us to take a shower together.”

“Younghooooo!”

\\\

You returned to the bedroom again and groaned as you listened to him sing in the shower. At first, he sang ‘A Whole New World’ and you were singing Jasmine’s part silently. Then, he sang ‘Change the World’ (by Eric Clapton) and even did the guitar sounds of the song. The last song he sang was ‘True to Your Heart’ from the Mulan soundtrack, which you couldn’t help but sing along to loudly as well.

Once he was done, he emerged in the bedroom with his towel wrapped around his waist. “It’s your turn now,” he said at the doorway while holding a seductive pose. You flipped the bird on him before removing your shirt inside the bathroom.

“Damn baby, you’re looking finer each day,” he howled, his eyes focused on your chest. “Johnny, please! Get dressed now!” Your cheeks were burning as you stepped inside the shower.

“But really, your boobs are getting bigger and your ass firmer!” You heard him say from the bedroom, and you screamed in annoyance.

\\\

You left the house at exactly 7:45 a.m., and both of you wore burnt orange. You rocked your favorite corduroy skirt in that autumnal color while he wore it in a turtleneck, which fit him snugly.

“We totally look like a couple,” you said while you eyed your skirt and his turtleneck. “Well, aren’t we?” He replied, his hand slipping into yours as he drove with one hand as always.

“I know,” you looked at him in the eye, and he winked, earning giggles from the both of you.

“You’re such a flirt! Do you know that, my love?”

“Yes, I know. But only to you.”

\\\

You arrived at the church right before the Mass started, and you saw your family waving at you at the far right corner of the place. Your mother was beside your father, who looked dashing in his black shirt and jeans. Sitting beside your mother was your elder sister and her girlfriend, while beside your father was your eldest sister and her American husband. You decided to sit beside your elder sister and her partner, with you sandwiched between your boyfriend and your sister’s partner.

After the Mass, you had lunch at the nearest Korean restaurant, and Johnny was gushing how cute your parents were.

“It looks like your mom’s totally in love with your father still,” he whispered as you waited for the meat to be cooked on the grill.

“I know, but he doesn’t really feel that same anymore,” you whispered back, tightening your grip on his arm. You saw that his face fell, and you pecked him on the cheek to cheer him up.

“Don’t be sad, but that’s the truth. It’s rare for me to see my mother this happy though,” your eyes were focused on how your mother was feeding kimchi to your father, who took it hesitantly.

“I want us to have a loving and long-lasting relationship, baby,” he kissed your hand after he whispered those sweet words to your ear.

“Me too, love.” But before you could look at each other with goo-goo eyes, your elder sister cleared your throat and raised an eyebrow at you two.

“Some of us are trying to eat here, lovebirds.”

You and Johnny mouthed your apologies and went back to eating.

\\\

The day went by fast – everyone took a walk in the park and enjoyed what nature had to offer. Johnny was quick to assist your parents when they had difficulty walking or moving, and you followed suit. You endured the teasing you got from your family while your boyfriend tried his best not to join in and defend you.

But the highlight of today’s event was his bonding with your father. You overheard them talking about photography, and you couldn’t help but smile at their interaction.

“Essie, why don’t you set up a photo walk in all of the parks in the city? I know you did that before,” your father said as he noticed you observing them.

“Yeah, I know, but I’m not sure if all of my photographer friends are still in the country,” you replied sheepishly.

“Nonsense! There will always be people who love photography and would love to get to know people through it,” your father eyed Johnny with a smile on his face, “and let’s do it next week?”

You glanced at your boyfriend, who looked ecstatic at attending his first photo walk.

“Sure, Dad. I’ll do that.”

\\\

On the drive home, Johnny was beaming with all the things he learned from your family.

“Your dad’s so cool, baby! You never told me he’s like a master photographer of sorts! I can’t wait to borrow his medium format camera next week!” He was squealing like a teenage girl as he went into the nitty-gritty of photography.

“Well, now you know,” you grumbled, looking at the car window. “I’m glad you enjoyed today.”

“Yes, I did. I hope we’ll get to do this next time with my family,” He looked at your reflection on the car window and saw a panicked expression on your face.

“Baby, don’t worry. Eomma and Appa love you already,” he squeezed your hand gently. “And they can’t wait to see you again.”

You cried silently on the trip home as he held your hand. Although you have already met his parents, you still felt afraid of them. Your heritage was something that you thought they would have issues with, but they said that it was okay.

What mattered most was that Johnny was happy with the woman he loves, and they could see that whenever you were around him.

It was after that second meeting with his parents that he admitted of his plans of settling down, and you fainted because you knew what would come next.

He was going to propose to you eventually. You just had to prepare yourself when and where he was going to do it.

–––

FIN

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littlemonstersau-blog · 5 years

Text

Meet The Parents

Written by @jkl-fff, illustrated by me

————————————————————————————————

Bill, meticulously arranging props in front of laptop: … Okay, that looks enough like organization getting unintentionally messy … [puts cotton balls in cheeks to make them rounder, straightens tie, puts on stolen glasses, picks up pen] And now, to wait for the skyelp to come through! [bends over “homework” as if dutifully studying … holds exact pose for over 5 minutes while quivering with excitement]

*laptop chimes as skyelp comes online*

Dipper, excitedly: Will? You there? I’m here with Mom and— [registers costume (especially new additions of sweater vest, tie, and glasses) and gasps]

Bill, beaming and voice-cracking: Dippy!

Dipper, breathlessly happy: … h-hey there …

Ms. Pines, squealing softly to her husband: My gosh, he’s so cute!

Mr. Pines, just as softly and trying not to laugh: He looks like a tiny, Irish accountant. Like he’s balancing the ledgers for the Leprechaun King.

Ms. Pines: I know! I just wanna pat his chubby, little cheeks and put a pencil behind his ear!

Dipper, blushing: M-Mom! Dad! Don’t embarrass me with B-Will! [clearing throat] Um, Will. This is m-my Mom and Dad.

Bill, dripping with wholesome enthusiasm: Pleased to meecha, Ms. and Mr. Pines! I’m William Corduroy, but you can call me Will. Or even (ugh) Willy, if you like.

Ms. Pines: Well, Willy, it is sooo nice to finally meet you!

Mr. Pines, sternly: What are your intentions with my son? [gets smacked by wife while son groans] What? C’mon, I had to ask it at least once. I’m a dad!

Bill: My intentions? [flashes through everything he’s imagined doing with Dipper since the twins had to go home … it’s pretty wild; blushes; starts to sweat] hhh … HOLD HANDS! MAYBE KISS FACE! CH-CHERISH! [gestures helplessly at Dipper] I mean, look at him! What else could anyone intend with him?!

Ms. Pines and Dipper: D’awww!

Mr. Pines, still sternly: You tell me. What else do you intend?

Dipper, burying face in hands: Oh, Moses, Dad …

Ms. Pines: Dear, stop, you’re making the poor boys nervous. And teenage boys already sweat enough as it is. Just look at Dipper.

Dipper: Mom!

Ms. Pines, insistently: We can have a talk about … safety and responsibility later. [Bill and Dipper exchange a horrified look] Right now, we’re here to get to know Dipper’s little boyfriend. So stop acting out clichés for 5 minutes, please. Now, Willy … um … How’s your day been? What’ve you been up to?

Bill, relaxing visibly as things go back on script: Oh, y’know. Same old, same old. School. Now I’m just here at the library, gettin’ my homework done for the weekend. [gestures at prop “homework” like a good student] Sorry I couldn’t do this at home where you could meet my dad, but we don’t have a computer. If you can believe that. It’s also why I’m still wearin’ these school clothes.

Dipper, confused: School clothes? Gravity Falls schools don’t require uniforms. They’re public.

Bill: Oh, well … Today was … special.

Dipper: Did you … dress up just to impress my parents?

Bill, a little defensively: Golly, I just wanted to make a good first impression! So your folks’ll, y’know … like me. And let us keep being together.

Ms. Pines, charmed: Oh, don’t worry, Willy. It worked; I think you look absolutely darling!

Bill: Gee, thanks! I can see where Dippy gets his sweet personality!

Ms. Pines: Oh, you!

Mr. Pines, rolling eyes: Okay, honey, dial back the falling for cheesy compliments. Anyway, Will, what do you like to study?

Bill: Oh, I really like math. Especially … trigonometry.

Dipper, snorting: Pff! Seriously? Oh, um, inside joke.

Bill: Perpendicular.

Dipper: Hahaha! C’mon, man, be serious!

Bill: Let’s see … I also like psychology. Dream analysis is fun, ‘cause then I getta tell people that, like, I’m the boy of their dreams … analysis! At least, I getta tell Dipper that.

Mr. Pines, snorting: Okay, I’ll give you points for that one, kid. Dad Joke level of corniness. 6.5/10.

Bill, grinning: Gee, thanks!

Mr. Pines: You getting good grades in math and psychology?

Bill, playing at modesty: Oh, golly, sir. I don’t wanna brag … But it is easier to work hard when it’s fun, y’know? Unlike the way they do history classes here.

Mr. Pines: Boring teachers?

Bill: Yeah. Plus, they’re complete schills for the conservative military-industrial complex. It’s bad propaganda done borin’ly.

Mr. Pines, perking up: What makes you say that?

Bill: Oh, the usual. The don’t even teach that Ben Franklin was secretly Gwen Franklin, that JFK was killed by mobsters from the future to keep him from becomin’ a robo-dictator, and that Ronald Reagan was a mind-controlled puppet put in power by a conspiracy of billionaires to keep colonizin’ other countries for their resources and essentially slave labor.

Mr. Pines: Ugh! Tell me about it! And it’s all because they want to keep the populace uninformed and easy to pacify.

Bill, defiantly: But it’s not gonna work on me! Or Dippy! We do our own historical research and stick it to the man!

Mr. Pines: Boo-yeah! Tear down corporate capitalism! [turns to wife] Okay, I like this kid.

Bill: I can see where Dipper gets his keen judgment of character. Along with his striking good looks.

Mr. Pines: Oh, go on!

*Dipper gives bill a secret thumbs-up*

Ms. Pines, smirking: Okay, now who has to dial back the falling for cheesy compliments? [turns back to Bill] So, math and psychology and rebellious history study … Given any thought to what you’d like to do with those when you grow up?

Bill, feigning thoughtfulness: I … think … I’d … like to make video games. Coding and design and such. But ones that make players think and be creative.

Ms. Pines, impressed: Really? Has Dipper told you that’s the kind of work I do?

Bill: What? No! Gosh, Dippy, why’d you never tell me! That’s just swell, ma’am! What kind?

Ms. Pines: Indie games, so there’s a lot of side-scrolling and retro RPG elements—very basic gaming elements— but sooo much more heart. And, like, artistic integrity. The kinda stuff that really touches people.

Bill, starry-eyed: That’s the kinda stuff I wanna make!

Ms. Pines: It’s not easy … but it’s worth it. So, how’d you and Dipper meet? When’d you start dat—

Mr. Pines: Wait, sorry, hold up. Is that a freakin’ skull? [points at shelf]

Bill, genuinely surprised: What? [turns, has to take off glasses to actually see] Well, gosh, it looks like it is.

Dipper, mouthing silently: Why in the 79 hells would you even put that there?!

Bill, honestly: I’m honestly not sure why the library’d have that. I didn’t even notice it.

Mr. Pines: Might wanna get your prescription checked, kiddo.

Bill: They’re reading glasses, so …

Dipper, mouthing silently: Where’d you even … ARE THOSE GRUNCLE FORD’S?!

———

[Meanwhile, back at the Shack, Ford, stumbling around all squint-eyed: Ah, Stan, there you are! Have you seen my glasses?

Sascrotch, standing mutely like a taxidermied figure: …

Ford: It’s the darndest thing. I’d swear I set them on the end table when I laid down to take a nap, but couldn’t find them when I woke up. Of course, I’m not having much luck finding my glasses without my glasses.

Sascrotch: …

Ford: What? Oh, am I still getting the silent treatment for saying you’re too old to have hair that long?

Sascrotch: …

Ford, indignantly turning away: Fine, who needs you anyway? I’d find them without your hel—

Ford, tripping: AAA!

Ford, lying flat on his face: … I’m alright!]

———-

Bill, continuing as if to the Dad, but actually to Dipper: It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. [goes and puts a book in front of the skull] There! Problem solved!

Mr. Pines: Yeah, that’s much bet … Is that The Necronomicon?!

Bill, genuinely surprised again: … Huh. Looks like it is. [picks it up, pages through it … shakes head] Nah, it’s just The Nockoffronomicon. You can tell ‘cause it doesn’t mention Shaggy or even Bob. And instead of Cthulhu, it’s dedicated to Cthhula. [puts different book in front of skull] The best dancer among the Elder Gods, am I right?

Mr. Pines: Heh … 7/10 for that one.

Bill: Gee, thanks! Anyway, um … D’you mind if I tell ‘em, Dippy? You’re sure it’s okay? [pretending to get bashful] So, um … Dippy used to have a crush on my big sis, Wendy. And ‘cause she works at the Shack, they’d be, like, hanging out together a lot. He even came over to the house a few times. And, um, naturally I had a crush on him from the get go, ‘cause just look at him! Who wouldn’t?

Dipper, blushing: Ah, jeez …

Ms. Pines: D’awww!

Mr. Pines, grudgingly: D’awww …

Bill, making himself grin and blush wholesomely: So I started coming along to hang out. Then, before I knew it, it was just us hanging out alone together. And we were exploring the woods one day when we found some wild mistletoe—golly, I told him, “That’s wild mistletoe. That’s what it looks like in the wild.” and then he said … No, he stepped under it first, then he said, “Guess we gotta kiss now.”—and so we kissed.

Mr. Pines, slapping his son on the back: You sly, little dog!

Bill: And I was like, “Gee, that was swell!” Can you believe it?! Real lame-o line to follow a first kiss, right? And he was like, “We could do it again, if you want.” And I said, “But, gosh, we’re not even dating! Everyone’ll think I’m a boy-floozy!”

Ms. Pines: HA! Oh, that’s precious!

Bill, giggling: Y-yes, ma’am! It was! And then Dippy, he said, “Well, be my boyfriend. We’ll start calling our hang-outs dates, and I’ll fight anyone who calls you a floozy.” It was soooo chivalrous!

Dipper, beet red and with his hands in his face: Stahp …

*a while later, after the parents have left*

Dipper, relieved: That … That went a lot better than expected. And they sure loved Willy Corduroy.

Bill, self-assuredly: Natch. I’m inescapably charming, no matter the alias. [pulls out cotton balls and tosses them in the trash] If you ever call me Willy, though, I will shank one of your stuffed animals. That was me takin’ one for the team. Which is us, by the way. The team is us.

Dipper: Heh! Yeah, I gathered that.

Bill: Still, I’m surprised they never asked about my eyes …

Dipper: Oh, I “warned” them in advance. Told them you had a medical condition, and that you were really sensitive about it.

Bill: Good thinking. You’re so smart. And handsome. And sexy.

Dipper, grinning: Stahp!

Bill, grinning back: Nope. Never. Because I love you.

Dipper: Hehehe! I love you, too … Willy!

#little monsters au #billdip #bipdip #bill cipher #dipper pines #gravity falls au #writing #fanfiction #meet the parents #here it is bois #submission

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epickendall · 4 years

Text

The Birth of the Ghost King part 4

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On the last weekend of Summer vacation, Wendy is in her room, flipping through the channels on her TV. She has nothing to do for the day or even tomorrow. Wendy stopped changing channels to crime show network that is showing a documentary of an infamous serial killer in New Orleans. Finn comes phasing out of the closest and flies onto Wendy's bed and sits next to her.

"So what are you watching Wendy?" said Finn

"The Saint killer from New Orleans," said Wendy

Finn walks in front of Wendy and turns his head a bit, "you bored aren't?"

"You can see it huh,"

"Yes seeing how you been changes channels for almost an hour and you keep looking at your phone every five minutes,"

"Your very observant,"

"Well, I am a ghost cat, so it's part of my nature,"

"Finn I got nothing to do this weekend instead of waiting for the day I go to my new school, and I have to get through being the new kid in town,"

"How about your old friends from your hometown? I have to talk to them?"

"They are busy at the moment, and other suggestions or I wish either fight a serial killer,"

"How about going outside and look around at least get the surrounding area,"

Wendy smile "that's not a bad idea Finn,"

"See now you got something to do,"

Wendy gets up from her bed, and she put on her usual boots, "anything I should know about before I go, Finn?"

"Yes if you hear screaming run the other way,"

"I know that,"

"By the way can you get some fresh fish,"

"Fresh fish? I thought ghosts eat dead and rotten stuff,"

"Some ghosts do, or others don't I so happen the one still eats the living food,"

"Fine, I'll go get your fish,"

"Can you get tuna?"

"I make no promises," Wendy leaves her room

Finn looked at the TV at the moment to see the Saint Killer getting electrocuted "boy they sure show a lot of violence on television now of days,"

Wendy goes downstairs she sees her mom cleaning up a mess on the kitchen counter using paper towels, and she sees Wendy heading toward the front door.

"So you heading I see," said Rhonda

"Yep I'm taking a look of the town," said Wendy

"That's good, and you might walk across the school you're going to,"

"Oh boy I'm so excited for that," Wendy sarcastically thought "what's the name of the school,"

"Casper High,"

"Really, that the name of the school?"

"Yes I know it's ironic, but hey I didn't choose the name,"

"Well, I'm heading out,"

"If you want to stay later you have to call me before it gets dark outside Wendy,"

"I will mom goodbye," Wendy left the house

Wendy POV

I've been walking around Amity Park for a good while so far; this town is pretty okay; it has the same things as Gravity Falls like a mall, movie theater, and a park. I have to get used to not seeing a forest next to a town seeing how I'm in more of a city than a small town. Managed to find the school Casper High I'm not looking forward to it at all with homework, some lousy teacher I might get assigned to, and worse state exam. I walk away from the school before some flashbacks from my previous school year. I started to get hungry, and I look to see a burger joint called "Nasty Burger," I hope the food tasty, and they are not as bad as the sign name.

I went inside the place; it is packed with a bunch of teenagers my age, and it's kind of got 1950s retro vibe to it except for the employ red and white uniform I went up to the cash register. I order myself a cheeseburger, orange soda, and large fries, and I sat down at an empty table. As I was waiting for my food, I overheard two people two rows in front of me one of them was a Hispanic girl, and the other one sitting next to her was a blonde girl they were complaining about the food.

"I swear this place can't even get something low in calories for once," said the Hispanic girl

"Totally know where you're coming from Paulina this had the most calories in the whole town,"

"C'mon Star let's get out of here and get something healthy,"

The two of them left the place god I can't stand stuck up and snobby people I hope to god I don't go to school with them. My food came. I get it and start to eat my food men; it tastes pretty damn good and not at all nasty from the sign outside while I was eating I head.

"Excuse me" I looked up to see one of the employs she was African American had green eyes holding a bag that had a sandwich "can I sit here this place is packed,"

"I don't see why not," I said

The girl sat down right in front of me and unwrapped her sandwich, "never see you around, are you new?"

"Yeah, I just move her a couple of days ago,"

"Really, where from?"

"A small town called Gravity Falls,"

"Never heard of it,"

"It's in Oregon,"

"Oregon, that's a long way from here. Why did you move here?"

"I don't want talk about kinda personal,"

"Oh sorry,"

"No big deal," I shake my head and ate a couple of my fries "so what your name since we're sitting here together,"

"Valerie Grey yours," she took a bite out of her sandwich

"Wendy Corduroy,"

"Nice to meet you, Wendy,"

"You too Valerie,"

Valerie and I talk as much we can since she told me that she on her break the time we talk I like Valerie she seems pretty cool and that we're going to the same school for this year by the time I finish eating I gave her phone number if she wanted to talk some more.

"Well, my break over Wendy nice chatting with you," said Valerie

"Same, oh boy, the way do you know where I can find any fish?" I said remembering about Finn and him wanting fish

"There's plenty of fish at the grocery store, why you ask?"

"I got myself a pet cat,"

"I see later Wendy,"

"Later,"

Third POV

At the same time, as Valerie and Wendy were talking over at the Fenton works, Danny is hanging out with his two friends Tucker and Sam in the dining room playing a fighting video game.

"Sam how could be so good at this game?" said Tucker

"It's not that I'm good it's just that you two suck," said Sam making a combo moves on Tucker character

"Oh yeah, about this," said Danny move his character, try to punch Sam's, but she counters him and causing him to collide with Tucker "seriously?!"

Then it was game over no surprising Sam beat Danny and Tucker flawlessly.

"You guys should practice more because this is getting more and more boring beating you guys at this," said Sam

"Whatever," said Tucker putting his controller down

"Sam how are you handling going back to school?" said Danny

"Fine expect my parents gave me a whole wardrobe of pink and white clothes they thought I would wear different for this year,"

"That sucks,"

"I'm probably going to donate them to charity my parents don't notice,"

"For me, I'm thinking of lifting weights to get some more muscles," said Tucker flexing his arm

"Is it for health reason or girls?" said Danny

"Danny it's for the ladies of course,"

"I don't want to hear boy talk," said Sam

"Fine anyway Danny you notice about the increase ghost this past month right,"

"Yes, Tucker I notice that's why I'm paying Clockwork a visit and see what's up tomorrow," said Danny

"Do you want us to come with you?" said Sam

"No, I'm good Sam,"

"Danny, Sam, and Tucker do any of you guys want cookies," said Danny mom from the kitchen

"That my cue to eat," said Tucker getting up

"Didn't you say you wanted to do lift weights that involve no junk food,"

#Danny Phantom #gravity falls

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mercifuldeaths · 5 years

Text

Vertigo: Chapter 2: Jacked Up

Vertigo: Chapter 2

Jacked Up

This fic is in progress.

Jim Mason x Reader

Warnings for this chapter: Graphic descriptions of drug use.

Summary: Jim’s very good at hiding his vices, except, that is, with Medina.

Notes: More exposition. I’m sorry guys but the drama is worth the wait. This is Jim��s story-Y/N is a component, but this is a story about Jim’s journey. Thank you all so much for the positive responses from Ch 1!

Word Count: 2.6k

Jim would see Y/N at the beach pretty regularly, not that he was looking for her. He couldn’t help that his room had a perfect view of the bay and whenever Medina was going for dawn patrol with her he would have his coffee outside, waiting for Sandy to be awakened by the other’s starting their day in the waves.

It seemed that Medina had finally had a friend, which made him exceedingly happy. Jim recalled the nights Medina would slip into his room and lay on the unmade bed asking why nobody liked her. He didn’t have an answer for her, or rather he did, but didn’t have the heart to tell her.

He couldn’t help but constantly be reminded of how much stronger she was. Of course, she was heartbroken that she didn’t have friends, but she did have the strength to not change herself for others’ approval. Jim couldn’t say the same for himself.

Coming in from his coffee- she wasn’t out there that day- he picked up his backpack and jacket.

“‘Dina,” he whispered, ear pressed to her door. He almost fell over when the door was ripped away from his face.

“Hey, we’re running late, let’s go,” she responded. She managed to smack him with her backpack as they snuck out the door, avoiding Sandy.It was a miracle that she even let him go to his classes.

The pair hopped into Jim’s car, a new Nissan SUV from Phil. A graduation gift his father had called it but Jim knew what it really was. It was a “Sorry we’ve been shitty parents and let you overdose, but here’s a material item that’ll make up for it” gift. Medina got a smaller Volkswagen beetle that she absolutely adored.

It had been three and a half years since his overdose. It really wasn’t even that bad, he thought. He had passed out at home, Sandy overreacted and he spent a night in the hospital. Then Phil proceeded to tell him that they wouldn’t be going to Paris and that he’ll do better.

Admittedly, it had been slightly better. With Sandy back on her meds she wasn’t as prone to mood swings and temper tantrums meaning Jim had slightly more freedom. It didn’t allow him to escape his responsibilities as ‘man of the house’ but things were almost manageable. Almost.

After everything, he had to be more careful. Withdrawal had been a nightmare but when his mind cleared he found that the memory was fuzzy. Turning back to booze, then weed, then pills, then coke, then everything at once, had been an easy decision. This time, though, he needed to be careful.

A few weeks into sobriety, his mother would inevitably forget about Jim’s problems, replacing herself as the center of attention in her mind, so hiding it from her had been a joke. “Oh, I’m just tired, mom. Long day at school,” he’d say as his eyes fluttered shut, laying on the couch with a comfortable blanket of haze clouding his thoughts. She ate that shit up.

His father was even easier. He had still moved out, but his relationship with Ava had ended a while back, now seeing some other redhead. He was never around, not that Jim wanted to see him anyway. But with him being a doctor, he had to make sure he was sober around the man. He’d recognize all the signs, especially knowing Jim was a user.

Medina. She was...complex. He had tried to hide it from her, he really did. She found out almost immediately and hadn’t said anything but he could see the pain in her eyes. The only response she gave was a “Be careful with that shit, Jim. You don’t know what you’re playing with,” bitten out on his way back to his room from the bathroom where he had just taken an oxy. All the warning he needed was written on her face every time she looked at him. He tried to ignore it, for his own sake.

It’s because of this that when she said, “Is it getting bad again? Please tell me,” while biting into an egg McMuffin on their way to campus that morning Jim almost crashed his shiny new car. She had begged to get breakfast on the way and he could never say no to his sister.

“What are you talking about, Medina?” he rolled down the window and looked out the windshield pretending to focus on the traffic in front of him.

“I know what you’re doing. I’m not stupid. But just tell me if it’s that bad again,” she tried to seem casual, sipping her iced coffee but it sounded a little too rehearsed.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry,” his teeth grit together. Turning into the parking lot of their university

“‘Cause I know when mom gets weird you get weird. I don’t think she’s taking her medicine again- since dad’s new girlfriend,” she hesitated not knowing what reaction Jim would have.

His fist slammed against the steering wheel, making Medina jump, spilling coffee on her corduroys. “I’m not ‘getting weird’ or whatever, okay?” he yelled. “Yeah, mom’s fucking crazy again, it’s whatever.” He pulled into a parking space a little too quickly and the car lurched.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” her voice was smaller than she wanted it to be.

Jim’s jaw was still tense, teeth clenched. He took a deep breath through his nose and rolled his eyes back. “I know you didn’t. I’m sorry for yelling,” he looked over to her and stuck his tongue out a little, the way that usually made her laugh.

She wasn’t laughing. “So it’s gonna be like that, then,” he leaned over and poked her in the ribs, right in the spot that tickled most.

“Jim, stop!” she shrieked, attempting to get away from his long arms. Her laughter bounced in the car. They both smiled.

“Now, go. I know you have ‘Adult Coloring’ or some bullshit,” he loved to make fun of her customized major, full of classes she was taking to one day do what she wanted most, travel and surf. It was a lot of photography, journalism, and some random classes for credits.

“It’s ‘portraiture’, I’ll have you know,” she called over he shoulder before closing the door. Through the open window, she smirked, “Have fun with your blocks or whatever you do.”

He let out a groan that turned into a laugh, “It was once!” he shouted to her back, walking to campus’ central. He had been trying to figure out the flow and perception of this one project he was working on, so yeah he brought out some Legos to visualize it. That’s architecture for you.

What she’ll never mention is that she distracted him and then proceed to spend the entire night on the living room floor trying to one-up each other's towers. Jim using what he had learned from four years of design and structural classes while Medina relied on ‘just staking them up until they fall.’ Her’s was taller by two blocks and she will never let it go.

Grabbing his backpack he decided to pull the small baggie of pills out and place them in an empty plastic cup, hidden under the seat. Out of sight, out of mind. He was almost off his last bender and held a small glimmer of hope that this would be the last time. The back of his mind was already itching for another fix, reminding him to be even more careful around Medina.

Planning for a long day in the library, still trying to find a topic for his senior thesis, he grabbed Medina’s unfinished iced coffee and headed into the beating sun with a brave face painted on.

No. No. No. He coughed up more bile, spilling from his throat into the toilet in front of him. It was disgusting, he knew, but he needed to rest his head on the seat of it, cool porcelain taming the heat that coursed through him. He dry heaved this time, causing the head-splitting migraine to reappear.

“Jim?” his mother knocked on the bathroom door. “Jimmy, are you okay?” The handle jiggled but it was locked.

“I’m fine, mom,” he breathed through his nose, trying to stare straight ahead to stop the room from spinning.

“I can hear you in there. Are you sick, honey?”

“Food poisoning. I’m fine.” Short words. Short sentences. The sound of his own voice making him want to smash his head on the tile, hopefully blacking out.

“Let me in,” she demanded. The thought of her being around him made him retch again, this time probably for the last time as there was nothing left to vomit up. But, from experience, he knew to sometimes just go along with Sandy rather than fighting. Especially when he was feeling like this, he had no fight left in him.

He crawled over to the door and managed to unlock it, Sandy not missing a beat and plowing into the room. “Jim!” She kneeled next to him and immediately put her hand over his sweaty forehead. Admittedly, her cool hand felt nice.

“It’s just food poisoning, mom. I’m fine,” he whispered and leaned into her- an instinct leftover from childhood. “Just need to sleep.” Chills wracked his body but sweat was clinging to every pore, the dark circles under his eyes almost red. His irises still shined a brilliant blue.

Sandy put her arm around him and helped to bring him to his feet. They shuffled into his room, his mother rambling about how California sushi can’t be trusted because so many of the people eat it, its mass produced.

Jim wished she would shut the fuck up.

He didn’t fully recognize how, but he was laying in his bed, tee shirt removed, blankets pushed off the mattress. In the fetal position, he slowly rocked himself willing the nausea away. He nearly lept out of his skin when Medina suddenly appeared, replacing Sandy.

“He likes to be alone when he’s sick,” Medina tried to reason to their mother, recalling when they were kids how Jim would always shy away from attention when he was sick, preferring to suffer in silence.

“He doesn’t like to be alone, he likes to be with you,” their mom spit out and turned on her heel, leaving Medina in the doorway holding a glass of water.

She made her way closer Jim, placing the glass on the nightstand. Perching on the side of the bed, she ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair, grimacing a little. He sighed under her touch and closed his eyes again.

“Thank you,” she whispered, mindful of his migraine. His eye cracked open and managed to convey his confusion. “I know what this is.”

“It’s food poisoning, that’s what it is. It’s that bullshit sushi we stopped for. Thanks for that,” he scoffed. She knew he didn’t mean any of it, that he was hurting. She could see his muscles twitch under his thin skin. They reminded her of springs, coiled and ready. His eyes screwed shut again and he nuzzled into her thigh. She could hear the small cries he was trying to hold back.

“We had the same thing for lunch, Jim. We split it,” she observed, letting him know his jig was up. She felt his head shake.

“Okay, then. It’s the stomach flu. Same thing, Jesus. Let it go,” he attempted to growl out but the intent wasn’t there. She held out the glass of water she had brought in and he was never more grateful for their twin telepathy ‘thing’. He managed to prop himself up and take a few slow sips. “Thank you,” he mumbled and handed the glass back to his sister, relishing the cool that washed down his throat.

Laying on his back he tried to stare ahead again, this time at the blank ceiling above him. He briefly thought about going outside to look up at the sky, but remembered that any sort of movement was practically impossible at the moment. His body ached as he had just run a marathon. Joints tight, frozen in place, he continued to lay on his back trying to regulate his breathing. 5 seconds in, 5 seconds out. He counted.

Medina continued to run her cool hands over his head and face. It only felt good because it was her. His other half, a strange extension of himself. Or probably he was the extension-Medina was already her own person. She didn’t need him anymore. His thoughts made him start rocking again, seeking any sort of primal comfort.

As if on cue, he felt the bed shift and she started to leave. Before she could, he managed to grab her wrist. “Don’t.” Only his lips moved. “Please.”

“I’ll be right back. I’m just getting more water,” she went to pull the blankets over him as the had shivers started despite his constant sweating. He nodded, content with her answer.

He thought that maybe he had finally started to drift off to sleep but was awakened by yelling. Sandy. At Medina, of course. Their shouts were muffled by the door and the fact that he couldn’t really think straight helped a bit, but his head still throbbed.

Sandy was going off about how Medina was always so judgemental towards her. Medina was snapping back with questions of why she wasn’t the ‘favorite’ twin. Sandy didn’t bother trying to hide it and plainly stated that she liked Jim better because he cared for her. Loved her. Medina started ranting about how this was just like last time. Last time, when things were Not Good. When Jim, the favorite, was Not Good. She suggested that maybe Sandy wasn’t that great of a mother if she didn’t love one of her children and couldn’t even manage to keep the one she liked from spiraling, practically killing himself.

Jim ground his teeth willing them to stop.

“This isn’t like last time for god’s sake,” Sandy screeched. “And it wasn’t my fault. Jim’s fine. Just like he was last time. It was a stupid mistake, once. He hasn’t touched that shit since, I’ll have you know,” she huffed. “Don’t make things worse than they are.”

Medina wasn’t about to out Jim. She was just trying to drop subtle enough hints that maybe Sandy would get the picture that things weren’t all that great.

Medina and Jim knew what was really going on in the other room. He was trying to detox from everything he had been taking in for the past few weeks. The two of them knew, and that’s the only thing that mattered.

Jim continued to hear them screaming from one thing to another. It was Sandy treating Jim like a husband, then it was how Phil was a bad father, then it was school, then Jim, then back to Phil, then Medina’s apathy, then back to Jim.

It always went back to Jim.

In a further attempt to block it out he rolled onto his side to his body’s dismay. Everything screamed in protest. When he opened his eyes he was greeted with the almost empty glass of water resting on the nightstand. His eyes narrowed in on the draw. Oh shit. Oh fuck.

To his horror and delight, he remembered the two small tablets he had pushed in the back of the drawer. For emergencies only, he told himself when he had placed them there. They went completely forgotten for so long he couldn’t even properly remember what they were. As if a puppet on a string, he propped himself up and opened the drawer, feeling the contents with long fingers. He felt the thin plastic and pulled the baggie out.

Directly depositing both of the pills on the back of his tongue, he used the last sip of water his sister had brought to swallow them. Shortly thereafter, he finally fell asleep.

Tags: @langdonsdemon @coloursunlimited @thecinderellaposts @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonalien @tarkofetis @stupidocupido @katiekitty261

Special thanks to some ultimate babes: @michael-langdon-appreciation @thecinderellaposts @katiekitty261 You are all so amazing and keep me fed with only the best Jim content. Thank you <3

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vampwrrrmistresslist · 5 years

Text

Riding the Red 2

A/N: This is the second chapter for an in-progress series, the links for which are on my mistresslist. This work is 18+

You were gently pulled from the depths of unconsciousness by the warm wet sensation of something licking your forehead. Opening your eyes in alarm, you saw that it was Chanyeol, who was not, in point of fact, licking you, but gently dabbing at your temple with a wet cloth that he periodically dipped into a bowl of warm water. You could smell witch hazel, and the sharp, herbaceous odour of tea-tree oil. You shrank back, and he stopped his ministrations, eyes flickering to yours.

Looking around, you took your bearings. You were gently sinking into a comfortable forest green corduroy couch, in front of a crisply roaring fire, in what looked like a well-appointed cabin. Under the pervasive odour of tea tree oil, you could scent the strong smell of pine, loam, and crushed leaves. Chanyeol had taken off his jacket, but was still dressed in his vest and shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up to his elbows. He had undone the first two buttons of his shirt, and loosened his tie. His intoxicating, spicy scent wafted up from inside his shirt, swirling around your head.

“Welcome back,” he said.

Looking back at him, you asked, “Where am I?”

“You’re in my home; you took quite a tumble. Nothing seemed broken, but how do you feel?”

You did a quick inventory of yourself. Everything felt fine, except for your head, which was throbbing. “My head hurts, but that’s it.”

“That’s to be expected, given how hard it hit that log.”

You closed your eyes and tried to recall a memory of what he was saying, but the last thing that you remembered was him offering to walk you home. “What happened?”

“You were walking away, tripped over something, fell, and hit your head,” Chanyeol said matter-of-factly.

“I don’t really remember…”

“That’s not surprising. You have a mild concussion, but nothing a few aspirin, some butterfly bandages, and plenty of rest won’t cure. You won’t even have a scar.”

“Are you a doctor?” you countered. Chanyeol just smiled mysteriously, and began to apply the bandages. “Seriously,” you said, “I want to know. I’m going to need a proper medical diagnosis from a real doctor.”

Chanyeol’s grin widened. “I’ve had extensive EMT training, as well as countless hours of field experience.”

“Oh. So…are you a medic? What is it that you do?”

“A tid of this, a bit of that,” he said, evasively. “All done. Have a look.” He handed you a mirror.

You looked with trepidation, but aside from some superficial, if colourful bruising, and a small gash held together by the butterfly bandages, your face was otherwise unharmed. You dimpled shyly as you looked at him. “I don’t mean to seem ungrateful. Thank you.”

“No thanks needed. I was happy to have been of service.”

“Well…I hate to run, but I really must get on to my grandmother’s house.” Chanyeol stared intensely at you.

“You can’t.”

“I…can’t?” you faltered.

“No. A freak snowstorm hit while I was carrying you here. We’re completely snowed in. Look outside.”

Disbelievingly, you stood up to open the curtains. The edges of your vision flickered and you swayed.

Chanyeol steadied you with a firm grip on your arm, then rose and pulled you to him. “Come with me,” he crooned in your ear, “I’ll show you.” Guiding you over to the windows, he pulled back the draperies to reveal a world dressed in white.

“What the devil is this?” You looked sharply at Chanyeol, who gave an elegant shrug of his shoulders.

“The temperature has dropped precipitously since the sun went down. Surely you felt it. Why else were you so bundled?”

“I…just dressed, I didn’t give it too much thought.” You paused. “It never snows this much here. It barely snows at all, not to mention at such an unseasonable time for it.”

“And yet, there you are,” Chanyeol said with finality, languidly waving a hand toward the window. With what you were coming to realize was his perpetual wolfish grin, he added rhetorically, “If you can’t trust your eyes, then just what can you trust?”

“Certainly not you,” you said softly, without thinking. Realizing your rudeness, you blushed scarlet and started to stammer an apology.

Chanyeol just grinned all the wider. “Smart girl.”

You searched his face, but despite its sharp planes, you found no malice. Unthinkingly, you reached up and placed your hand on his cheek. His pupils dilated until the iris was almost eclipsed by black, but other than that, there was no reaction. Dismayed by your own forwardness, you dropped your hand as if his face had burned you.

“I need to call someone to let them know where I am.”

Chanyeol started shaking his head before you even finished your sentence. “I’m afraid that I have no phone. I’m a rustic sort. No phone, no TV, no Internet.”

You felt your eye twitch; you were a daughter of the tech age. “No Internet?”

He laughed. “Teasing. I actually do have satellite service, but in storms like this, snow covers the dish and the end result is…no Internet.”

“Well, how long are we going to be here?”

“I haven’t the foggiest,” he said, comfortably. Your stomach took that moment to let out an ominous rumble. “Someone needs feeding. For better or for worse, you are my guest and as such, it is my distinct pleasure to see to all of your…physical needs.” You self-consciously wrapped your arms around yourself. “Follow me. I’m sure that I can scare up something.”

He led you to a dining room dominated by a long cherrywood table surrounded by high backed chairs. “Sit,” he commanded. You bristled slightly at his tone, but you were tired and hungry, as well as a guest in his home, so, after paying lip-service to your pride by giving him a look, you sat. “Good girl.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small bottle of Tylenol PM. Reaching across the table for a carafe and glass, he poured you a glass of water, saying, “Take three of these. They should help with your head.” He left the room, but soon returned with a giant silver platter full of fruit, nuts, cured sausage, honey, bread, cheese, and two sharp little knives in one hand, and a bottle of grape juice in the other. “You must excuse me. I’m a bachelor. I have plenty of food, but none of it is particularly fancy.”

“My basket–”

“–Is in the living room.”

“I have some food in there. My mom had sent me a care package, and in it she included some things for my grandmother, which is why I was on my way to her house. I also brought most of my things to share with her, so that should supplement your stores.”

“We’ll dip into it, if necessary, but—”

“I have cookies.”

Chanyeol paused. “I’ll get it.” A moment later, he returned. Laying your basket on your lap, he looked at you. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable? I can put your cape on the coat-rack. ”

“Oh…thank you.” You stood to untie your cape when he moved behind you.

Reaching around, he brushed away your hands. “Allow me.” He untied your cape, his fingers gently brushing against your throat. As he slid it from your shoulders, the backs of his hands brushed against your arms. The contact was minimal, but you felt your face grow hot. When he returned he looked at you. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m…quite hot. I’ll be fine.”

“Indeed. Shall we?” You both tore into the food. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you started eating. You groaned as you bit into a piece of bread and cheese. You didn’t have time to be embarrassed, however, because Chanyeol was wolfing it down even faster. He wasn’t a rude eater, but an expeditious one. You grinned. You had always enjoyed watching men with good table matters enjoy their food and it was nice not to have to act like a lady while your stomach burned with hunger. Soon, however, the silver platter was clean, and you were halfway through your packet of Hob Nobs. You sighed, and sat back. Chanyeol nodded. “I second that.” You blinked your eyes in contentment.

Several moments later, you realized that your eyes were still closed. Before you could open them, Chanyeol swung you into his arms and started out of the dining room. You struggled against him until he said, “Relax, little one. I’m just carrying you to the guest room. My room is down the hall.” Realizing that your struggles were useless anyway, you relented. Deep within yourself, you sighed. His body was as hard as marble. A thrill ran through you as you enjoyed a luxury that you hadn’t experienced since you were a child. Of course, it was quite different, being carried by your beloved Papa, and being carried by a rugged, enticing man who was definitively not anything like your sweet, gentle, owlish Papa.

Chanyeol turned into a room, and sat you gently on the bed. The Tylenol were just beginning to work, and you blinked sleepily down at him as he undid your shoes. Looking up at you, he reached under your skirt, sliding his warm, callused hands along your calves and thighs, until he reached your garters. Drawing one hand back down your leg, he put it beneath your knee, lifting it as he unhooked the back of the garter. Gently placing your leg back against the mattress, he undid the front and side, and then tenderly, yet methodically folded the stocking down your leg.

You knew that you should be affronted at his effrontery, but you were tired, warm, and full of good food. Besides, what with the way that he was looking at you, and the warm scent of his hair teasing your nostrils, you were half tempted to let him do a lot more. He unhurriedly repeated the process with your other leg, looking into your eyes the entire time. Then, folding your stockings together, he placed them in your shoes.

He rose, towering over you as he looked down into your face. Starting with the bottom button, he slowly undid your vest, and peeled back the halves, then folded it into the drawer by the bed. As he turned back to you, you raised your arms. Reaching down, he began to pull up your shirt. Pausing, he ran his hands over your stomach. He swallowed, and looked at you. “Corset?” he asked hoarsely.

“I like them,” you shrugged.

Taking a shuddering breath, Chanyeol pulled up your shirt, and folded it away with your vest. He took a step back, and looked at you. Your golden-brown skin fairly glowed against the cream silk brocade. “My, my, my, Little Red. You almost make a man forget to be a gentleman.” You dimpled shyly.

“Turn around,” he softly commanded. You paused, unsure. Then you slowly turned around. “Pull your hair to the side.” Reaching behind you, you caught your heavy mass of hair with one arm, and pulled it over your shoulder. Chanyeol didn’t move for awhile. Just as you were about to turn back around, you felt his fingers begin to leisurely unlace the back of your corset. As each row came undone, you felt the hot backs of his fingers gently brush against your spine. Finally the work was done. An expectant heaviness hung in the air.

You slowly turned back around, holding the corset to your chest. Chanyeol looked at you, and then leaned close. You closed your eyes and tilted your head. You felt his hand brush back your hair from your temple, his breath gently fan over your face. He whispered, “That wound looks as if it’s beginning to heal already. I trust that a night’s rest will do you great good.” By the time his words registered and you opened your eyes, he was gone.

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ryik-the-writer · 5 years

Photo

When Gideon's friend's are in danger, he uses magic to protect them.

Based off a prompt I received A LONG time ago.

[A03]

Age of the kids: Around 4

-.-.-.-.-

Gideon wanted to be a hero, plain and simple.

Since he was old enough to comprehend the words his parents recited from his storybooks, he wanted to be one.

Sometimes he would pretend to be like the ones in his books. Neal and Robyn, who more or less lived a second life in his home or in the sanctuary of his mother’s library, would play along and the roles would switch daily.

The day Alex Boyer—the preschool bully and, in the mind of the four-and-a-half-year-old, Gideon’s worst enemy—pushed Gideon and his friends to the last straw, Gideon truly tried to be a hero.

It was a normal day, as it had been for the past three months since they had started kindergarten. Because Robyn couldn’t walk, she couldn’t do the thing Gideon and Neal would usually like to do, like swing or play on the slide. However, they spent their earliest years using their wits and imaginations to play together, so doing so in a different environment wasn’t much of a stretch.

They were playing in the sandbox, a slow and not too exhausting task that involved itchy legs and grit-filled shoes afterwards, but it was still something they could all do together.

They were having a great time until Alex Boyer came along to cause trouble.

Alex always reminded Gideon of an angry pig due to his thick nose and boorish attitude. He was a typical bully, and Gideon’s parents said that meant he should always try to be nice to him.

“Sometimes mean people just need a bit of love,” she would say with a wink his father’s way. “It always works.”

However, to Gideon’s young mind, he didn’t think Alex wanted to be friends. He was always taking Neal’s cookies at snack time and refused to help clean up after play time. Not to mention he was always calling Robyn really dumb names. The names weren’t creative nor very hurtful, but they were a jab that made his friend feel just a bit more outcasted from the other children, and Gideon did not want to be friends with someone like that.

Neal groaned when Alex approached, knowing good and well their calm break was about to be over. They had complained to the teacher before, but the young, fairly inexperienced women waved it off as play and had yet to deal with him.

“What are you weirdos doing?” he inquired cruelly, jumping into the box and causing their sculptures to collapse.

“What does it look like?” Robyn growled.

“Zip it wheel chair.” He responded.

“Alex, go away.” Neal warned him calmly, the aire of a leader in his tone.

“You don’t own the sandbox, Nolan.” Alex fought, kicking the bucked in Neal’s hands away.

Gideon glanced nervously around for one of the teachers, noticing instantly that they were busy with another student. She wouldn’t be coming to save them after all. He felt Neal moved and turned around just in time to see him standing to Alex’s height.

“Leave us alone.” Neal warned calmly. “You do this all the time and it’s not funny. If you want to play that’s fine but stop calling us names and kicking away our stuff.”

“Stop calling us names!” Alex mocked.

“Cut it out!” Robyn yelled from the ground.

“I’m not talking to you wheel chair!” Alex yelled, kicking a wave of sand into Robyn’s face.

Gideon felt his whole body run cold at the site of Robyn arching down and shouting out in distress. For a moment the world around him seemed to slow, the only thing in focus was Neal’s panicked expression as he knelt to help Robyn rub sand out of her eyes.

The young Gold turned up to his friends’ tormentor. The piggish boy was actually smiling about what he had just done, as if he somehow thought he was going to get away with his cruel actions.

A thick heat began to thaw his shock, filling him with a familiar tingling sensation that he instantly recognized.

He wasn’t allowed to use magic outside of the house; that was rule one in the Gold family rulebook.

But Gideon knew—or at least his father always said—that some rules could be broken when circumstances called for them.

And this situation certainly called for a bit of rule-breaking.

He jumped up, sand trailing down his corduroys as magic sparked through his small fingers.

Just as Alex turned his way, Gideon held his hand up to the boy’s face, the idea of just what he wanted to do to him running though his mind.

When the bully shouted out in shock, Gideon knew his spell had worked, but a new fear set in. He had never used magic like that before, and he only wanted to make Alex stop, not hurt him.

The bully dropped his hands from his face and revealed the effects of Gideon’s spell: Alex’s face was covered in boils, his nose as puckered as a pig’s—in fact, that’s exactly what Gideon had done.

Alex acted like a pig, and that’s just what Gideon had turned him into.

The other children soon noticed the commotion and watched in astonishment as their classmate panicked over his sudden change in appearance. Most, not realizing the full intensity of the situation, were laughing at him.

Gideon glanced down at Neal and Robyn. They had recovered from Alex’s cruelty quickly and were now struggling not to laugh at how their rival’s downfall. They couldn’t hold back any longer when the boy went squealing into the school for help, and soon Gideon was laughing too.

For a moment, he was one among his peers, a true hero in their eyes like the heroes his parents about read to him. He had used his powers to help his friends and teach Alex Boyer a lesson once and for all. He felt like—he had stopped evil in its tracks and now everyone could live at peace.

Or at least they were going to until the stern, tight-haired principal came bounding out, her hard eyes finding Gideon instantly.

“Gideon Gold!”

“Uh oh.” Neal whispered.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Half an hour later Gideon he was sitting in the principal’s office between his parents as she gave them all the third degree. Beside them were Alex, his face restored to its original form by Gideon’s father, and Alex’s grandmother, a stout but glassy-eyed women who didn’t seem to know quite where she was.

“We don’t tolerate bullying of any sort at this school,” the principal explained.

“If magic was involved, it must have been an accident,” Mr. Gold tried to explain. “The spell is undone now and there shouldn’t be any lasting damage.”

“And we’ll pay the cost for any…lasting effects.” Belle added.

Gideon sighed as his parents and the principal continued. He was going to get additional lecture from his parents when he got home, but he was glad Alex was finally getting reprimanded for his wrongdoings.

“And because of that, I’m going to have to suspend Gideon for the rest of the semester.”

The principal’s proclamation brought Gideon from his musings.

“What does suspend mean?” Gideon asked. He felt like he may have read the word in one of his books, but he couldn’t be sure.

“It means, young man, that you won’t be allowed back here for the rest of the year.” The principal explained before his parents could.

“What!” the little boy exclaimed. “What about Alex?”

“Alex, of course, will get the help he needs because of your stunt, and will continue here.” The principal continued.

“That’s not fair!” Gideon exploded. “He hurt Robyn and Neal! He’s been hurting them for weeks and no one was doing anything about it.”

“He what?” Belle gasped, glancing at the boy who was now smothered in his grandmother’s side.

“He’s been calling Robyn names and taking Neal’s things! He hurts the other kids too!”

“If that’s the case, Gideon than you should have told the teacher or me.” The principal pointed out.

Gideon groaned irritably. He could feel that tingling again, only this time it felt like it was trying to spread past his controlled fingertips.

“Gideon,” his father whispered. “It’s okay.”

The gentle statement from his father soothed Gideon’s agitation enough for the magic to die down.

“Regardless, I can’t allow Gideon to continue here.” The principal continued with an air of finality. “If he did this to one student, I don’t want to begin to imagine what he could do to another if he felt provoked.”

“That will not happen,” Belle tried to assure. “Give us the weekend to help him understand the error of his ways.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Gold, but it’s for the safety of our other students.”

When the principal remained silent, Mr. Gold stood and held out his hand for his son.

“Come on Gideon, it’s time to go home.”

Gideon restrained angry tears as he took his father’s hand. This wasn’t fair! Heroes weren’t supposed to get punished when they did the right thing! The villain was supposed to be defeated and the world was supposed to be better for it! That was how the story was always told!

He glanced back at Alex and glared at him as he turned from grandmother’s side and stuck his tongue out.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The next morning Gideon awoke on his own accord, the bitterness he had felt from the day before still as new, even with the smell of his mother’s pancakes reaching his nose.

A soft but familiar knock echoed through the room, and Gideon threw the covers over his head just as his dad walked in.

“Hey Gid,” Rumplestiltskin greeted as he took a seat behind the lump of blankets. “How about you get up son?”

Gideon tightened into a ball. He didn’t want to get up. Didn’t want to talk about yesterday.

Rumplestiltskin sighed. He always knew the day would come when he’d have to lecture Gideon about the use of his powers, but he always thought the talk would come when the boy was much older, and not so soft and innocent to the world.

However, Gideon wasn’t like most children, magical or not. He had history with magic in his past life, and if he let this one incident go unchecked, it could stir but bad memories and habits that would follow him into adulthood.

“Gid, I want you to know that your mom and I are very proud that you stuck up for your friends yesterday,” he smiled slightly when Gideon loosened under the covers. “But you have to understand that there are times when you just can’t use your powers.”

“Even when someone’s being hurt?” Gideon grumbled. “When you tell the people who are supposed to help but they don’t.”

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. “You got me there.”

“I didn’t want to do it, Papa,” Gideon muttered, squeezing the corner of his pillow. “I just wanted him to leave us alone. I just…wanted to be a hero”

“I know, m’boy,” Rumplestiltskin agreed. “I know what it’s like to want to protect the people you love with every fiber of your being. But sometimes magic isn’t the answer.”

Gideon didn’t answer. The boy was too young to comprehend just why what he did was so wrong, even if he understood that what it had certain consequences.

“People like us,” Rumplestiltskin said as he soothed the boy’s hair. “We have a special ability to help people. But, even when we don’t mean to, we can hurt them too.”

Gideon sniffled as his response.

“And sometimes being a hero means letting the villain walk away,” Rumplestiltskin explained. “Because sometimes when you see them again, they want help,” The Dark One smiled when his son smiled in agreement, and helped him sit up. “So how about after breakfast, we go over to Alex’s house and apologize.”

Gideon made a face.

“He knows to be nicer to you, so how about we give him the benefit of the doubt?”

Gideon released a great sigh. “Fine.” He bounced off the bed and followed his dad down the stairs.

“But I still wish I could have turned him into a real pig!” he muttered naughtily.

#ryik's fics #ouat fic #gideon gold #rumplestiltskin #never unwanted

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theyrealllegends · 5 years

Text

Careful (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Chapter Summary: Under Roger’s care, you got well quick enough to be able to join them for the rehearsal he’d invited you to. It’s the first time you hear and see them in the studio and it definitely has an effect on you.

Author’s Note: I’ve read this thing about John and Freddie, that he was super shy and barely talked but when he was with Freddie he was so relieved and talked and everything and it warmed my heart. Also, he would’ve had that effect on me too, for sure, so I think it’s fair to assume he has it on Tiff too, right?

Words: ~2.1k

Warnings: none

Chapter 5

Previous Parts

You woke up to Roger trying to get out of your bed, then stumbling to your door and you only realised one of your ears was completely blocked, when he opened your door to grab the phone that was apparently ringing in the hallway, completely without your notice.

“Roger Taylor?”, Roger said, as if he’d never gotten a phone call and as if there wasn’t a 50% chance it was one of his parents. When his back straitened and he tried to tug some hair out of his face, you could tell that wasn’t the case though and you smiled to yourself, hoping your dad wouldn’t scare him too much. “I’m afraid not, sir, Tiffany’s asleep, she caught a cold.” There was a break and Roger’s eyes got a little narrow, as he listened to your father. “Of course, sir”, he’d reassure him and “I’ll do that”, after another moment. “Have a good day”, he said in the end, before hanging up and returning to your room. “Why can’t I just leave you sleeping?”, he asked you, as he crawled back in bed with you. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry. My dad wouldn’t stop calling if you hadn’t picked up.”

“I sensed that”, Roger said, running his hand through your hair. “He wants you to call him back.”

“I guessed so”, you replied, leaning into him. He started humming to you again and it made you smile.

You got better within twenty-four hours thanks to Roger’s care and the fact that you slept better when he was with you. However, the two of you still got into something you could consider a debate if it was alright or too early for you to join him for the band’s rehearsal Friday night.

“I’ll be alright”, you kept reassuring him. You even washed your hair for the first time in days but you wouldn’t want to use this as an argument for Roger since the fact you didn’t wash it in the first place could gross him out.

“Okay, but force me to take you home directly afterwards”, he finally agreed.

“I thought-“, you wanted to say, but interrupted yourself, blushing.

“What is it, love?”

“No, no, it’s fine. You changed your mind about the dinner, no big deal”, you said, your heart breaking just a little. The night you got sick, the night were he didn’t get home until the sunrise, had also been the night were you tried to convince yourself, you needed to stop the feelings you had for him. You tried to bury them deep inside of you - what was indeed hard, having him cuddle you to sleep the two days after it. You didn’t want to feel the way you felt that second, to be sad or feel attacked by Roger’s actions with other girls. He was a free man, after all, you really shouldn’t be jealous but there was a part of you that couldn’t help it.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Tiffy!”, he said almost immediately. “I didn’t mean to, I don’t have any other plans!”, he eagerly tried to explain himself. “All I meant to say was that I don’t want to - that I really shouldn’t take you to a pub after the rehearsal. But I’d still be up for dinner if you feel good enough for it.”

“I’d love to”, you said, looking at your feet.

“Fuck and I thought you dressed up like that to impress the boys”, he said while he actually thought that you wanted to distract him from playing. You felt your cheeks tingle again, as you looked into his eyes, noticing how he was checking you out and to your surprise, it didn’t make you feel as uncomfortable as you would’ve expect to feel in this unlikely event. Actually, you felt warm on the inside and it made you stand up a bit straighter. You wore one of the dresses your mom would get you before you were supposed to have a fancy dinner with her and your dad; it was a very dark green and the velvet fabric would start a bit under your collarbones - so it didn’t really have a cleavage - hug your breast and your ribcage before softly floating down to be less tight around your legs. Roger’s eyes were literally sparkling as his gaze met yours and it made you put your hand in the pockets of your dark-grey coat. You clenched your fingers into fists to fight down the urge to touch him. He was in dark-red corduroy pants, some fancy boots and an even fancier jacket made of black suede but decorated with golden ornaments. All you wanted was to run your fingers through his messy hair and to kiss him until he’d lift you up against the door frame you two leaned in, if you were honest to yourself. Only the thought made you bite your lip because you felt a tingle between your thighs you weren’t familiar with. You looked back up to him as Roger’s hand was suddenly cupping your jaw, his thumb softly running over your cheek. “You look great, babe, don’t be uncomfortable.” You just nodded because you didn’t trust your voice enough that moment and moved away from him so he’d get that you were ready to leave. Roger even held the door of his car open for you and you smiled as you got in. The drive went by in comfortable silence, only Roger was humming along to some of the songs played on the radio. You usually didn’t like them, it was too loud and with too much anger in your boat, but you realised that they weren’t half bad if they were coming from him.

“I thought we were -“, you tried to say as he took you into a building that certainly wasn’t the university you attended.

“Oh, no, we grew past that stinking uni-room”, Roger said grinning. You only followed him wide-eyed through hallways with wood on the walls and colourful carpets that reminded you of the ones in your parents’ house. He pushed open a door as if he owned that whole place and you wished you could lean onto the doorframe again for stability. It was a freaking studio and it was covered in smoke.

“Tiffany, my love, I’m glad you made it!”, Freddie called out, forcing himself out of the depth of a leather couch. He hugged you tightly and kissed your cheeks.

“Well, I was eager to get here the whole time but Roger turned into a grandma until my fever finally got better”, you told him silently and it made him laugh like you were actually a funny girl.

“You’re so delightful”, he explained, wrapping an arm around you to turn you towards all the people in the room. He introduced you to their sound engineer, his girlfriend Mary and Deaky’s girlfriend Veronica. “Let’s get to work, shall we, you bitches?”, he then said to the three guys that were already setting up their instruments, only waiting for him.

“It’s so nice to meet you”, Mary said smiling. “Freddie is talking about your new flat non-stop.”

“God, I hope you don’t mind that I’m going to live with him!”

“No, I - I mean, you’re not gonna steal him, are you?”, she teased, smiling. You laughed along with Veronica, trying to relax.

“Don’t worry, he’s all yours.”

“And you’re with Roger, right?”, Veronica said, stretching on the couch you sat on in between them.

“No, I live with him but we’re not dating”, you explained, begging god you weren’t blushing again.

“Funny how he’s looking at you every five seconds then”, she explained, lifting her chin quickly to make Mary and you look at the boys. Roger caught your eyes through the glass that separated you from him and winked at you, hitting one of the golden things at the top of his drums - you should really make him explain the setup to you, this description was ridiculous. “There we go”, Veronica grinned, starting to count in a low voice. “One - two - three - fo-“ Roger’s eyes were on you again and he bit his lip shortly, before he had to sign some background vocals. “Aww. One - two - three -“

“Okay, okay, I got it!”, you told Veronica, poking her into the ribcage lightly. “Please stop, I’m not - I mean, we’re never going to be a thing.”

“You should really be careful with that guy, but if you’re truly into him I bet it'd take you one very short sentence to change that”, she said, dead serious.

“Or we can talk to Fred and he’ll arrange something, he’s really Cupid when you let him”, Mary agreed. She saw the slight horror in your eyes and tried to help you out, you could tell.

“It’d really require a roman god’s help to make him stop getting wasted with other girls”, you admitted, wishing they wouldn’t hear your whisper.

“Honestly, if you ever need a friend, hit me up”, Veronica said, sounding honest but at the same time like it wasn’t an important topic to you.

“And if you want me to talk to Freddie, you can always let me know”, Mary added, more heartedly. “I mean, you're going to see him a lot, soon, so don’t be shy to approach him yourself.”

You shifted your attention to the boys, regretting it in an instant because you had no freaking idea what they were doing.

“You’re not supposed to do that, are you?”, you asked, when Freddie poured beer onto Roger’s drums.

“They have this new song and Freddie’s sure he sounds shit and they need to get experimental”, Mary tried to explain with the same confusion you felt in her face.

“I think it’s too much”, Veronica judged. You tried to ignore all the weird things you saw and to only listen to make your own opinion.

Can you hear me you peers and privvy counsellors

I stand before you naked to the eyes

I will destroy any man who dares abuse my trust

I swear that you'll be mine

The seven seas of rhye

Sister I live and lie for you

Mister do and I'll die

You are mine I possess you

I belong to you forever

You honestly had to force yourself to keep your mouth shut and your breath steady. You didn’t only think they sounded amazing - they sounded out of this world - and hearing Roger really sing for the first time was an experience. The high notes he hit without the tiniest sign of effort were giving you goosebumps. How was he able to sing like that when his voice was like… that and overall…

“I think that’s the wildest thing I’ve ever heard”, you finally let out, making the two girls laugh.

“That’s what everyone says when hearing them for the first time.”

*-*-*-*-*-*

Roger took in your beaming smile like a dry sponge, yet you caught him in surprise when you joined the other two girls approaching their boyfriends and hugged him tightly.

“I loved it”, you whispered to him, your arms around his neck and your fingertips in his hair that had gone sweaty and even messier.

“Thank fuck you did”, Roger replied, before eventually realising he shouldn’t talk to you like that. “I was nervous you wouldn’t like it”, he admitted, before he had to let go of you because Brian wasn’t only starting to feel lonely surrounded but all the couples but also getting hungry.

“You’re taking Tiffany somewhere special, aren’t you, Rog?”, Freddie wanted to know and Veronica raised her brows as if she didn’t believe you weren’t dating Roger anymore.

“Wherever she wants to go, I thought”, he admitted, looking at you, hoping you’d know where to go.

“Just don’t take her to some stinking grill, would you?”, Freddie went on, making Mary giggle and Veronica snort.

“That’s not gonna happen, she’s vegetarian, right, love?” You nodded blushing, feeling uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on you.

“I like that”, Brian said, putting his hands in the pockets of his black pants. “You should go to this place, it’s called La Verdura, or something, it’s really close to the Library.”

“You mean the library for normal people or the one for space nerds?”, Roger asked him, grinning while you had no idea why he’d tease Brian like that when he was trying to be nice.

“No, Roger, I mean the one for wanna-be dentists that drop out before their first exams!”, Brian defended himself, sounding annoyed.

“If that makes you two stop looking like that, why don’t we go there together?”, you suggested, putting a hand on Roger’s shoulder and smiling at Brian.

“That’s the lawyer Tiffany speaking, Ladies and Gents. If we leave now, I’m in”, Freddie said, giving you a warm smile.

“I can take two or three extra people, depending on their size”, Roger said, still teasing Brian.

“Would you stop?”, you asked him silently and the shit-eating grin faded from his lips.

“I’d like all of you to bow down to this girl”, Brian said, admiring how easily you shushed Roger without realising that this was something he tried to do since they met each other.

*-*-*-*-*-*

The dinner was fun, actually and you didn’t feel uncomfortable once, even though you were surrounded by quite a lot of people which you weren’t too familiar with. But they managed to include you in their talks without any hesitation, making you feel welcome and it was easy to get to know them. You learned that Brian was becoming an astro-physic and that the teasing between him and Roger had a really long history.

“Oh, I’m sorry”, you told them, a small smile forming on your face. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything that’s been your thing for ages.” It made the others smile back at you and Roger’s hand was on your back as soon as he’d finished his pasta.

“Tiff’ny, my love, can I ask you some lawyer thing, if I pay for your dinner?”, Freddie asked, his hand on Mary’s back, too.

“You don’t have to pay my food, Fred, I’m not even a real lawyer yet, maybe I can’t answer your question.”

“Okay, hear me out. We have this song, I don’t know if Rog sang it to you or whatever you two might do at home -“

“Man, don’t”, Roger just said and Freddie snorted.

“Anyway, it has this line Mother Mercury, Look what they've done to me”, he just sang it like it wasn’t a big deal but you were impressed by his voice again. “And I want Mercury to be my last night, fuck Bulsara, honestly”, he sounded annoyed before he looked back at you, smiled and continued very softly: “What would I have to do for that?”

“Okay, that’s easier than I thought, we talked about that last year, I guess”, you said and he nodded in excitement. “There’s not really a legal process, you can just start using that name and change it in your documents later. To do that, you need a “deed poll” - that’s a document you either make yourself or apply for. If you enrol for it, at the Royal Courts of Justice, I believe, you’re putting your new name on public record and you have to pay for it.”

“No matter, what it costs!”, he said eagerly, making you grin.

“It’s like forty pounds, Fred, nothing crazy.”

“Okay, one last question, love!”

“Sure”, you nodded.

“Why didn’t we hire you already?”

*-*-*-*-*-*

Roger drove Veronica and John to their place later and you felt comfortably warm in his car, sitting in the front seat next to him like it was your assigned place while you watched your new friends run through the rain hand in hand.

“I had so much fun, Rog”, you admitted silently and he laced his fingers through yours.

“Me too, Tiffy”, he said in a voice as low as yours. “Also, it’s great to see you with them. It’s been like that with Deaky, too. As if they’re the people you’ve been waiting to meet forever.”

“It feels like they’re”, you agreed and one of the cars that was passing by on the street lights’ lid up Roger’s face for a split second and there was something incredibly vulnerable in his eyes that made your heart stutter. He was looking at you, taking in your face, just like you did with his and you’d seen the sparkle in his eyes before - but not in Roger’s eyes, but in Freddie’s or John’s, Mary’s or Veronica’s before they were about to lean into their significant other for a kiss. “Can we go home?”, you whispered to shake the intense desire building up in you, just by seeing this look in his eyes. You looked away and Roger cleared his throat, mumbling something in agreement, before he had to let go of your fingers to start his car again. What if you interpreted something wrong and he wasn’t looking at you like that, he only tried to be a good friend, or roommate? You looked at your hands that were folded on your legs and tried to shake the need to feel his skin on yours again, trying not to let your thoughts wander any further.

Roger drove you home in silence, his chest feeling tight and cold, trying to fight down the urge to touch you again, since you looked like you didn’t want him to. He was dying to sleep next to you again and you saw that there was a silent question in his face when he opened his room’s door but you were too scared to read him wrong, again.

“Night, Rog”, you whispered as you passed him by, wishing he’d grab you and take you to his room.

“Sweet dreams, Tiffy”, he only replied, fighting down the desire to do exactly that.

Tags:

@discodeakyy @crazyweirdocalledfriday @blondecarfucker

I hope you liked it!

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