#tangled ask gam | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gingerteaonthetardis · 2 years

Text

WIP Telephone: "Truth Serum"

if you don't want to see what might become an increasingly long tumblr post, feel free to block the tag "WIP telephone." (i'll also be tagging it "long post," just in case. don't want to clog up people's dashes.)

tagging: @saecookie. you can add a hundred words and pass it along, or keep it for yourself. your choice!

in this one, nine has a little crush, jack is smug, and rose finds out about it. hope you have fun with this, dear! also, i'm giving you literally everything i have for this one, so it's loooong. i'm gonna put a lot of it below the cut, just for the sake of everyone's dashes.

Three bodies spilled into the TARDIS, limbs tangled in a way that was almost certainly illegal on several planets—fortunately not on this planet, but that wasn’t exactly a glowing recommendation, to Rose’s way of thinking. One body bobbed in the middle, and two others were gripping his torso like twin octopodes.

“—what you expected me to do, Jack, he spiked your drink,” the Doctor griped, long arms slung around two pairs of shoulders, his body sagging heavily toward the grating. There was something slightly off about the angle of his limbs: like his legs were walking of their own volition, in a manner almost entirely disconnected from the intentions of his brain; his arms were stiff and mechanised. “You two can stop dragging me ‘round now,” he added mildly. “I’m only acting pissed. I think.”

Over his drooping, leather-clad shoulders, his two companions exchanged a look.

“Not sure, actually. But either way, I’ve got the full use of my legs. D’you know, Rose,” he announced, changing tack entirely as the pair released him, “these legs—well, not these legs, my legs—won a competition once. Best Gams in the Galaxy. Not bad for a biped.”

“Really.” Rose’s voice came out flat, but behind the staggering alien’s back, her face was anything but. Brows furrowed with worry, she nibbled her bottom lip to avoid biting her nails from nerves. She watched his uneven movements with a strained eye.

“You don’t sound impressed.” The Doctor sounded petulant, and he looked up with an expression that, on a face with different features, might have been a pout.

“I am impressed,” Rose shot back automatically, exchanging another quick look with Jack, who winked. She reiterated. “You’re very impressive.” It seemed she was alone with her worry. Once the TARDIS doors had closed behind them, the Captain’s handsome face had morphed from an expression of tight fear to a slow-growing smirk, as if he was in on some sort of joke, the likes of which Rose clearly didn’t comprehend.

The Doctor's expression remained glum while he circled the Time Rotor. "You don't have to patronize me. I can tell when you're lying, you know."

Crossing his arms over his broad chest, Jack interrupted. “I think we’re getting a bit off topic, Doctor. I’m still not rightly sure why you felt the need to take several spiked shots on our behalf. Couldn’t we have just dumped them?”

The Doctor snorted. “Not if you wanted to leave this planet alive. I had to make them think we’d all gotten dosed, or they’d’ve followed us, yeah?" He frowned down at the sea of buttons before flicking one, with more force than necessary. "Anyway, I couldn’t let anything happen to you two, could I?”

“And what… what would’ve happened?” Rose asked, rounding the console. “If we’d drank them?” The Doctor didn’t answer immediately and instead keeled in the vague direction of a different button; it was only Rose’s sudden grip on his arm that kept him from collapsing onto the panel and depressing all of the buttons. “Doctor,” she insisted, or pleaded. The two were largely the same, when it came to him.

The Time Lord’s face worked for a moment as he attempted to conjure an answer—presumably one that wouldn’t scare her. But though he looked dismayed, his reply came in a sudden, easy rush. “The toxin would have rapid-boiled your internal organs, beginning with your esophagus and moving on to the rest of your digestive system before seeping out into your abdominal cavity, poisoning the rest of your body from there. You would’ve been dead within the hour.” The moment the words were out, he grimaced.

“Right,” Rose said faintly.

When she turned to look back at him, Jack was still unbothered, quite amused by the Doctor’s gruesome explanation. Strange. “Charming,” Jack quipped. “And what’s the toxin’s effect on you?”

The Doctor shot a furious look over Rose’s head, and the force of it nearly pushed her a step back. He suddenly looked stone cold sober, like the drunken stumbling really had been an act. But instead of moving away, she squeezed her hand around his forearm again. “You’re gonna be okay, right?”

His gaze dropped to hers, and there was a look in it like fear.

“For me, it appears to mimic the effects of what humans would call a truth serum,” he ground out. His throat bobbed, pulling her eye; he was nervous. “I will be completely fine, so long as I am isolated and not asked any questions that could jeopardize the safety of the universe or reveal any private—” but it must not have been a terribly strong truth serum, because his teeth snapped together, a flash of feral white. “Just don’t ask any questions.”

Jack, however, was already out to cause mischief, flopping down over one of the jump seats as if it was a chaise lounge. “Why not?” he goaded, grin sparkling.

“Because it’s invasive, that’s why,” the Doctor growled, breaking out of Rose’s grip to go loom over Jack, presumably wearing an expression of pure menace. “Honestly. I could fit your sense of ethics into a thimble. Don’t make me regret saving your worthless hide, Captain Jackass.”

“You love my worthless hide.”

“Be that as it may,” the Doctor answered through clamped teeth. “I’d prefer to express those sentiments of my own volition.”

The console room fell silent—so silent that Rose could hear her own rabbit-quick heartbeat in her chest and the pop of her lips as they parted in surprise. She couldn’t seem to un-glue her feet from the grating to get between them, for all they looked on the cusp of a fight. But should she get between them? She couldn’t help reading the tension in the Doctor’s shoulders, the grin creeping over Jack’s mouth, as perhaps indicative of…

Something—something she’d never imagined might exist between them.

Rose’s stomach dropped.

But the unnatural hush was shattered by the sound of fists beating against the TARDIS doors. Angry fists. “Open up,” one harsh, not-quite-American sounding voice commanded. “I am a registered Agent with the Time Agency, and you are in violation of—”

Barely a second later, the Doctor was lurching back toward the console, throwing out commands. “Looks like they followed us anyway. Jack, get over here and on the controls. We’re leaving this planet.”

“What?” Rose cried, finally finding her voice again. It seemed to leap straight up from her belly, a gasp more than anything. “No! You’ve been drugged, Doctor—no, you’re not flying anywhere. You’re under the influence! I mean, is that even legal?” She didn’t realize she was shouting until both men looked up from the console, dismayed and confused as her words echoed over the high ceiling.

“Rose,” the Doctor began.

She shook her head. “You told me that nobody could get through those doors. The TARDIS will keep us safe,” she asserted, jaw set. “You need to go lay down until this—this drug goes through your system. You’re barely on your feet as it is, staggering all over like a drunken bum on New Year’s Eve. We’ll—we’ll get you to the infirmary and—I mean, I don’t know how to work an IV drip, but I’m sure you can talk me through it—”

“Rose,” Jack laughed.

“No, Jack, I’m serious. He’s—this could be dangerous!” Rose knew she sounded shrill, but she couldn’t help it. Dozens of conflicting emotions roiled inside of her, twisting her stomach and tightening around her throat. Concern for his well being clambered over top of disappointment, and curiosity, and uncertainty. And her usual feelings towards the Doctor—fondness, desire, something stronger than even those—reared up, manifesting as a sort of senseless panic.

“Rose,” the Time Lord cut in, mouth quirking. “While I appreciate the concern, I’ll be fine in a few hours. I can metabolize the toxin, no trouble. Got superior biology, me.” And he gave her that look, a crooked smile that made her insides twist.

She fought the urge to reach out and grab his arm—to touch him again and ground herself. She wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, or if it would be welcome. Something in that realization stung.

Still, Rose managed to swallow down her worries and step closer. “Promise?”

His smile spread wider, hitching on one side. “Promise,” he replied, voice low. Low and only for her. She couldn’t mistake it—she heard the fondness there in his tone. She couldn’t possibly be mistaking it, could she? His blue eyes shimmered in the dull green light, and she had to look away lest her lips begin to wobble.

“Well, I still think we should take every precaution," she said, her own arms crossing in determination. "You can’t go straight to sleep—someone should stay up with you for a few hours, make sure you don’t take a turn for the worse.”

“You just said he should lay down.” Jack sounded smug, and she fleetingly thought about tossing him out the TARDIS doors to the mercy of the Time Agents. I’d prefer to express those sentiments of my own volition. Of course he was smug; the Doctor fancied him. And now they all knew it.

“Yeah, on a gurney. Where we could keep an eye on him.”

“I’m still here, you know,” the Doctor said drily.

Decision made, Rose looped her arm through his. “For now. Jack, help me get him to the media room. We can—I dunno, watch a film or something. So we don’t have to talk, but you,” she said, looking pointedly at the Time Lord, “don’t fall asleep.”

Jack, looking quite pleased with himself, took the Doctor’s other arm obediently. “You two can stay up as late as you like,” he informed her as they collectively wobbled down the hall. His voice was entirely too cheerful. “But I’ve had a brush with death tonight, and I’m knackered.” The way his accent stretched out the syllables of it—knaaackered—made Rose giggle despite herself.

“Fine,” she agreed. “I’ll stay up, then.”

“Rose, you don’t have to—”

Under her hand, she felt the Doctor’s arm twitch. And he leaned to the side, like a bough swaying in the breeze. He may have been acting like everything was fine, but it wasn't.

She’d stay up all night if she had to.

After Jack deposited the pair on the media room sofa—a massive, plush thing with plenty of room for all of them, plenty of room to leave between them—with only a quick wink and an off-handed salute, Rose felt uncomfortable in a way she hadn't expected. It was like she was the one off balance, careening. And she felt a compulsion to speak. To fill the quiet. Beside her, the Doctor was still and slightly slouched; he looked very, very tired.

She scrambled for something to say before settling on, "What film would you like to watch?"

But he only answered in a dull sort of voice, "I don't have a preference."

Rolling her eyes, Rose reached over and nudged his arm. "Yeah, you do. You always have a preference."

"No," he shot back, "I pretend to have a preference, because I like arguing about films with y—"

His mouth snapped shut again, and she watched a tendon in his throat bulge with the force of it. Practically grinding his teeth, he looked away from her and at the dark television screen.

"Just pick something," the Doctor sighed.

Guilt bloomed in her stomach. How could even this, something as innocuous as picking a film, be a point of contention? How much was he holding back—all the time—if even watching a film wasn't safe? Dejected, she picked up the remote and, instead of picking from the TARDIS's massive digital and physical and even holographic collection, just flicked on the telly and began channel surfing.

And she tried to stay quiet. She really did.

But it was just that the silence felt oppressive, gaping—the garble of static as the TARDIS chased down local signals, the sound of vaguely-American newscasters and commercials for products that didn't exist on Earth: none of it could fill the quiet. The air around them felt heavy, and the longer she sat there—just one cushion over, cross-legged, knee close enough to bump his thigh—the more she could see that the Doctor was struggling.

"Is it… is it hard? Not to talk, I mean."

His eyes slid away from the screen. They glowed bright blue in the dim room, and she felt pinned by them. Cornered, like a frightened animal. His jaw flexed, and then he nodded, once.

“Right. Sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he replied—quickly, as if he couldn’t quite stop himself.

Yeah, I do, she wanted to say. But she didn’t; she just watched him turn away, his face once more in sharp profile. The telly jabbered away, some sort of advertisement for an industrial cleaner "rated up to one hundred and sixty decibels." What cleaning products had to do with acoustic power was rather beyond her, but the Doctor watched like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Once more, Rose felt the urge to speak rising in her throat. If she hadn't seen him take the shots himself, she'd probably have thought she was the one dosed with truth serum. "I won't make a thing of it, you know," she said. "You and Jack."

He didn't look at her. He didn't move. The sound of fireworks crackled from the television speakers, light painting the Doctor's face in red��yellow—blue.

She wondered if he wanted to deny it, that there was a thing, and the drug just wasn't letting him.

"I mean, it's good," she pressed on. "Isn't it? You both deserve to be happy."

#WIP telephone #long post #ninerose #ninejackrose #dw fic #timepetals #rose tyler #ninth doctor #captain jack harkness #doctor who

20 notes · View notes

sansxfuckyou · 2 years

Note

then could yyyou write a gamtav fluffshot? nothing in particular, just let them be happyyy

Of course I can! And I am ignoring canon a little bit for story

Summary: Gamzee finds himself feeling just a tinge lonely, so he calls up Tavros for some regular baking.

Warnings: Excessive swearing, check tags for further warnings.

A long ass sigh escaped Gamzees lips, for the first time in what felt like hundreds of years, he wasn't wearing his clown makeup. Gentle, chilling air oozed into his pores and brushed against his scars and he felt lonely. The entire hive reeked of metaphorical despair, visceral miracles and day old Faygo, and he needed some damn company before he decided to ruin his kitchen even more.

So he called up the brother Tavros.

It only took a few hours for Tavros to roll up with Tinkerbull on his shoulder, metallic legs a little bit rusted over due to long time use of them. He was grinning, his mohawk was a little bit tangled and his horns had a few scratches and dents and Gamzee grinned as he let Tavros in. The two Trolls ended up sitting on the couch and passing banter, sharing sips of Faygo tinted with soporific pie filling from various times over, Tavros didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah man, I met up with Vriska the other day and she was totally gushing over Terezi," Tavros said with a bit of a grin as he tilted his head against the couches backrest, kicking his feet up on the low down table with a clank as half empty capped Faygo bottles went spinning, "she kicked me out after she noticed I was recording it, not sure what I'll do with it though."

"Oh brother, you should so mother fucking Terezi, I would, but we aren't on the best terms right now, no amount of miracles could fix things up," Gamzee said, reaching to rub the back of his neck, his grin faded for a quaint second as his claws brushed over a scar, Tavros' smile faltered as well before he inched closer to Gamzee, purple scattering across the latter of the twos face as Tavros inspected the slash scars, aware of origin.

"I didn't, I didn't even realize you weren't in makeup, ha, silly little me, I'll back off," Tavros said, words coming out fast as deep orange peppered his cheeks, he pushed himself away after seeing how uncomfortable Gamzee looked, a faint sigh of relief was released after the proximity was minimized.

"Naw brother, it's chill, you wanna make some mother fuckin' miracles happen though?" Gamzee asked in reference to pie, Tavros face lit up vibrant orange with hints of brown, it shot down his neck a bit as well and Gamzee realized what he had said, "not that kind of miracle brother."

"Oh, oh, yeah that makes a lot more sense than what I was thinking, sure thing Gam," Tavros said as he rubbed the back of his neck, orange glow retreating from his face.

Gamzee took a heaving sigh before standing up, the springs in his couch were old and gave quiet groans as Tavros followed. The two led each other to the kitchen over scattered Faygo bottles, pie tins and horns. When Gamzee cracked open his bubbling pot of ingredients and a pie crust from the freeze box, Tavros cringed a little bit as the scent singed his sensitive nose, Gamzee noticed and his wide grin shrunk.

"You good Tavbro, we don't have to do some brotherly baking if you don't want to," Gamzee offered as he placed the lid back on the pot, Tavros was quick to respond.

"No, no! I'd love to bake with you, just, maybe not entirely soporific this time...?" Tavros offered shakily, Gamzee slowly slanted his eyes before they cracked open alongside a grin, he was quick to start looking for alternatives.

"I don't have that much, but we could slap some fuckin', shrimp in there and see what miracles happen," Gamzee said as he grabbed a small tray of shrimp from seemingly nowhere, he had already decapitated them and in the center of the shrimp ring was parsley and some other herb that Tavros didn't recognize, the scent was extremely strong, "I think we even have some other seabugs here as well."

"I'm absolutely sure that we won't need anything more than shrimp and some sauces," Tavros said as he grabbed the pie crust and the shrimp, he could just drop them in, but that's unsophisticated, he started looking for knives next, and a cutting board, "hey Gam, where do you keep the knives?"

"Whoa now, what do we need those blood coated miracle makin' things for Tavbro?" Gamzee asked, reaching around to the back of his neck again, stupid scar and it's stupid knife related origin, Tavros gestured vaguely at the shrimp.

"You really want whole shrimp in your pie? Biting into one of those fuckers whole isn't pleasant, unless of course, you like whole shrimp, then we could leave it like that," Tavros said, trying his hardest to not be a nuisance even though he knew Gamzee was chill.

"You can find The Piece Maker on top o' the cupboards, I call her that on account of the way she leaves things," Gamzee said and Tavros had to jump a little to reach it, it came tumbling down and Gamzee near jumped to push Tavros out of the way, catching the blade in his hand, it sliced thin skin and purple gushed out, "see? Leaving me in mother fuckin' pieces."

"Gamzee! Gamzee, holy shit, where do you keep the first aid in this hive?" Tavros asked, panic washed over his as Gamzee simply turned on the water and ran his hand under it, humming a stupid tune as he wiped down the knife before placing it on the platter.

"Relax, you do the cutting and I'll make the sauce," Gamzee said as he tore a thin strip out of his stained and dirty shirt, getting the fabric wet to rinse out the stains a bit before tying it around his hand, purple started to saturate the fabric, Tavros stilled looked panicked a bit, "I'll be fine, you just do some fuckin' choppin' and we'll be on our way to miracles in no time."

"Ha, yeah, yeah, I'll do the choppin' you do the saucin' Gam," Tavros said, a bit of a quaver in his voice as he grabbed a small slab of wood, using it as a chopping board, slicing each shrimp into a few small pieces, dropping them into the crust as Gamzee poured a few ladles of soporifics into another pot.

"See, perfectly chilled my guy," Gamzee said before started to root around for other items, dropping them into the sauce, ketchup, a handful of mayonnaise and soy sauce was mixed in, the fumes potent until Tavros mixed in actual spices, "smells real fuckin' good now Tavbro."

"Yeah, Tinkerbull isn't exactly the best at food, so, I got a lot of practice in 'the kitchen' as Jade would say," Tavros explained as he placed the knife back under water and stirred the pot till the fluids looked combined and evened out, then he slowly poured it over top of the shrimp.

He offered the ladle to Gamzee who gladly took it and poured another layer onto the shrimp, it was bubbling a little with how quickly it had heated up. But it cooled rapidly and started to gelatinize, it only took a few more ladles worth of the sauce, which smelled shockingly rich for cabinet cooking, to filled the crust. Then Tavros asked Gamzee for the top of the pie whilst reaching for The Piece Maker once again, to which Gamzee reluctantly reached for the lid of the pie.

"Look, I trust you with makin' the munchies more than anyone else Tavbro, but last time I put one of those mother fuckers on my pie, it exploded real majestic like," Gamzee explained, Tavros rolled his eyes as he laid the lid of the pie on top of the filling, using blunted claws to prevent them from coming apart, he pressed the tip of the knife to a part of the pie.

"Easy remedy to exploding pie syndrome," Tavros said as he cut a few choppy heart shaped panels into the pie, the brownish sauce threatened to ooze from holes and he nearly vomited, "now, let's slap that fucker in the oven and see what happens."

"Oh, holes, that makes some good sense in my think pan Tavbro, and the hearts, nice touch," Gamzee said as he slid the pie tin in and slammed the stained door shut, pressing the button and twisting the knob until it started to hum, "any meaning behind that touch my brother?"

"What? No, never," Tavros said, nervously glancing to the side as his face heated up, dull eyes narrowed in almost a glare that had Tavros shaking, "yeah, yeah definitely, we can just be pale though."

"Naw, naw that's chill mother fucker, I guess I can't go calling you Tavbro no more though, Tavros," Gamzee said as he grinned just a bit, the heat of the oven radiating into the room and his face was purple either way as he left, "Tavros doesn't sound right coming out of my maw though."

"It really doesn't," Tavros stated with a slight nod of his head as Gamzee sunk down into the couch, gripping a bottle of Faygo before patting the spot beside him.

"Tavbro it is then," Gamzee said as he leaned into Tavros just a bit, taking a swill of the Faygo, "you want some?"

"Yeah sure," Tavros said before Gamzee took an especially large swig of Faygo and gripped Tavros jaw, yanking him in for a rough kiss, the mix of saliva and Faygo was foreign to Tavros who nearly sputtered upon release of the kiss, "dude what the fuck?"

"You said you wanted some Faygo brother," Gamzee said in his defense with that trademark grin and a shrug of his shoulders.

5 notes · View notes

rachel1987 · 4 years

Text

GWCFT Part 3

Get ready to run some errands! Hatter and Hare get their steps in on this update as they run around Wonderland getting ready for June to arrive. Hare continues to have a nervous breakdown and Hatter can’t help but be an adorable pain in the ass.

xposted on ao3 and FF.net

Part 3:

A few hours later, Hatter pushed the bedroom door open with his elbow, a tray in his hands. Hare stirred, groaning as he flopped around in bed, tangled up in his sheets.

The tall man entered the room and crept to Hare's side of the bed, placing the tray on the bedside table as he took a seat. Reaching a gloved hand out, he touched Hare's shoulder and shook it softly. "Hare… Hare, it's time to get up." Hatter's palms itched as he sat there, forcing himself to remain calm. His instincts were making him want to body slam down on the bed and squeeze Hare till he woke up.

Feeling the touch on his shoulder, Hare opened his brown eyes slowly, looking around with blurry vision. "What time is it?" he muttered, voice dry from sleeping with his mouth open. He flipped over onto his back and sat up, reaching out for his glasses. His hand clanked against a teapot, two cups with saucers and a plate of reheated breakfast rolls.

"Might be a little past breakfast, but it isn't too late for lunch," Hatter said with a smile, reaching out and nabbing the glasses from the table, handing them to Hare.

"How long have I been asleep?" Hare yawned, pushing his glasses up onto his nose. His hair was frazzed out (more than usual) and he still looked tired, but he was at least coherent. It seemed the caffeine had worked through his system too.

"Only a couple hours, nothing to worry about," Hatter soothed him, filling one of the cups with hot tea and passing it to his friend after adding some sugar and lemon.

Hare gave him an uneasy glance and took the cup, sniffing it before taking a sip. "Camomile…" he smiled, taking a larger swig.

Hatter waited till the cup was mostly empty before speaking again. "I put everything away out there and did one final check of the house, it's all in order. You don't have to worry about cleaning anything else today."

Hare moved to protest, but Hatter gave him a 'you'd-better-not' look, so he sat still, finishing up the tea before helping himself to more.

"I also took the liberty of airing the place out and watering your garden," Hatter beamed, very proud of himself in taking charge. He had omitted the fact that he had found an old diary of Hare's and read it while laying the wrong way on his sofa.

"Thank you," Hare replied, stirring more sugar into his cup. "You've been a busy Hatter this morning."

"Anything for you, old buddy," Hatter shrugged, brushing some imaginary lint off his sleeve before also helping himself to some tea. "Now all we need to do is get you showered and packed and we'll go back to the Hat house for a day of relaxation."

Hare snorted and choked on his tea, trying not to spill any of it as he placed his cup back on the tray. "Go to the Hat house? But I've still got things to do here! I haven't cleaned out the fridge or the basement and-"

Hatter shook his head and put a finger to the Hare's lips to shush him, giving him a stern look. "Your mother won't look in the fridge and we'll lock the basement door so she won't go into it."

"But-" Hare started, Hatter's finger still against his front teeth as he tried to speak.

"Hare, your house is clean and, to be frank, I don't trust you on your own anymore after that stunt you pulled last night."

Hare crossed his arms in an imitation of Rabbit and leaned back against his headboard. "I hate it when you try to be Frank… I prefer when you act like John if you can't be the Hatter."

Hatter rolled his eyes and scooted closer to the Hare, offering him a breakfast roll as a peace offering. "Yes, well, I can't be John all the time."

Hare took the roll and nibbled at it, only realizing how hungry he was after he gobbled it down.

"Anyway," Hatter waved a hand. "We'll get you showered and pack you a bag and you'll stay at my place till your Mother shows up. That way I can keep an eye on you and we can finish all the party planning. And you can figure out what you'd like to do for the magic act."

"Oh, right… that," Hare said, losing his appetite again as he placed his third roll back on the plate, half eaten. In the hustle and bustle of last night, he had forgotten that he'd agreed to the talent show and a magic act for his mother.

"I've already asked everyone and they've all agreed to perform," Hatter announced. "Well, I've spoken to everybody but Alice, but I don't think she should be a problem. She always likes to have fun with us no matter what we're doing."

"Too late to back out now, huh?" Hare said aloud, more to himself than anybody else.

"Now don't be a killjoy," Hatter said, patting Hare on the knee before getting to his feet. "I'll start getting these dishes done, why don't you go take a shower? You smell like dish soap and Pine-sol."

Hatter left Hare to himself, who pouted a little and sat alone in his room for a few minutes, listening to him the kitchen. He sat there till he heard a crash and then a soft "damn" from a husky voice, making him shake his head.

"Oh gawwwwd…" Hare rubbed his eyes and caught a whiff of himself, deciding that he did need a shower after all.

"Don't forget your magic trunk too!" Hatter said, laying across the bed with his feet up in the air, a Rubik's cube in his hands as Hare packed his duffel bag.

"Already got it," Hare said absently, folding up another yellow shirt and placing it neatly in his bag. He only needed a couple days worth of clothes, but he was packing more than he needed because he never knew when he'd need to change at the Hat house. They usually got up to some mischief that ended in someone getting filthy and the idea of having to do laundry wasn't overly appealing. "Maybe I should just do my juggling act… or play my tuba. I don't know if magic is such a good idea."

"Naw, your Mom has seen you do those things," Hatter said, tossing the Rubik's cube onto the floor in frustration. He'd managed to get three sides done, but the last three were proving to be more difficult. "Or fit those into your magic act."

The Hatter seemed stuck on seeing some magic performed by the Amazing Hair-raising Hare, so he supposed that's what he'd have to do. Scrunching up his face, he opened his magic trunk and threw his bowling pins, juggling balls and tuba inside.

"Where'd those doves go?" Hatter asked, leaning over and peeking into the trunk. He reached an arm in and swatted around blindly, fingers brushing against objects in the darkness. Hare shook his head and was about to say how there weren't any birds inside when four more flew out. "Aw, nuts… sorry."

"It's okay, I'll get more…" Hare muttered in astonishment, taking another look deep into the trunk.

"Well…" Hatter said loudly, pushing himself up off the bed and onto his feet, planting the landing like a gold medal gymnast. "Anything else or are we ready to go?"

"Uh, I don't think so. I'm ready."

"Righty roo," Hatter said, linking his arm with the Hare and leading him through the house and out the front door.

The rest of the day was one of forced relaxation. Hatter took Hare back to the Hat house and insisted that they do nothing the entire rest of the day. They'd bring in dinner and watch television or read comics and just laze around. They had spent the past few days doing nothing but cleaning, they deserved a little time to not do anything. There were a few times when Hatter caught Hare straightening up and whatever he was doing was taken out of his mits and he was forced to return to the sofa and watch another television show. By the 4th episode of Dodo's Do The Strangest Things, he thought he'd go crazy.

Of course, they did have their usual tea party at 4 o'clock, that was non negotiable. Alice and the Tweedles decided to join them and after the tea party they threw a softball around the tea table and spoke about nothing in particular, which was nice.

June's visit was specifically not mentioned, for fear that it would aggravate Hare. Therefore, Hatter made a special effort to squash any mention of her, in the most exaggerated fashion, of course. Hare thought he was overreacting, but also secretly appreciated it. Truth was, he was really tired from the past few days of hard labor. He had overdone it and did need a break. So, while he pouted and huffed and puffed about everything, he was hiding how much he enjoyed being doted on.

They brought in Chinese food for dinner (with oolong tea and miso soup) and ate it with chopsticks. They fought over who would get which fortune cookie and made fun of what the paper slips said inside. More tea was brewed, they watched Some Like it Hot and argued over who would make a more attractive woman if they were in the starring roles of the film.

"No, I would," Hatter argued, pulling his pajama pants leg up and resting his bare limb onto the low coffee table. "Look at these gams! They go on for miles!"

"No no no no," Hare shook his head and wagged his finger a little. "You may have the legs, but I have much more vavoom in the rear end department."

"How true that is," Hatter said, wiggling his eyebrows provocatively after craning his neck back and taking a look, causing Hare to laugh out loud and throw popcorn at him.

When they finally made their way to bed late into the evening, Hare couldn't wipe the smile from his face. After all the work and trouble he had put Hatter through, this was the day he didn't know they'd needed. He had almost completely forgotten about his mother coming and the talent show that he still had to plan for. Everything felt like it had returned to normal.

He cuddled into the Hatter and smiled very contentedly as they fell asleep wrapped up in one another.

The next morning Hare decided it would be a good idea for him to go for a jog to clear his head and get his focus back. He was honestly thinking of signing up for the Wonderland 5K and he thought that maybe going for a bit of a run would do him some good. It would be good to dust off his running shoes and see if he still had it in him.

He raided the attic, making sure to leave the room just as clean as when he had found it. Honestly, he was surprised that the Hatter had avoided the room as well as he had been. The place was still pretty spick and span, even a few days after cleaning. After a little bit of digging, he found one of his yellow sweatsuits and a pair of running shoes in a trunk.

Hatter was in the kitchen rummaging around for a clean kettle to start brewing the morning tea when Hare appeared in his jogging suit.

"Oh…" Hatter gave him a once over with some interest. "Going for a run, huh?"

"Yeah, I thought it'd be a good idea. Help me clear my head." Hare said in the most nonchalant way he knew how, taking a seat at the kitchen table to lace up his sneakers.

"You want me to come with?" The lack of enthusiasm was noted in Hatter's voice, it sounded like he'd almost rather wash all the dishes he had in his house than go for a run.

"No, you don't have to," he replied, wiping a scuff off his sneaker before leaning back into his chair a little. "It'll just be quick, only a couple miles. I'll be back in fifteen minutes, tops."

"Okay…" Hatter drawled, filling up the kettle and setting it on the stove, clicking the burner on underneath it. "I'll have breakfast ready for you when you get back. Anything sound scrummy to you? I think I have some eggs in the ice box."

"Eggs would be nice," he agreed, getting to his feet and lifting onto his toes to give Hatter a smooch on the cheek. "Time me?"

"I'll, uh... count the seconds," Hatter said, altering his voice and trying to sound as gushy as possible.

Hare rolled his eyes and made his way through the OUT door. He paused at the stone gate, using it to prop his leg up as he stretched a bit, planning his route for the morning. He'd start around the Hat house, through the forest to the Palace, maybe see if Caterpillar was around…

After stretching, he bounced on his feet a little, trying to warm up some before taking off at a smooth pace.

He tried to keep his head as clear as possible as he ran, attempting to take in the scenery. It was too early for him to really run into anybody, but he could sense the signs of life within the various dwellings he passed. He could hear the music coming from the Tweedles house, knowing they were probably up and doing their morning dance routines. He could smell breakfast being cooked when he passed the palace, the scent of bacon and waffles making him want to stop and reach his hand in through the kitchen window to grab some.

"Wouldn't Rabbit be surprised?" he thought to himself with a laugh.

He made sure to weave his way through the Caterpillar's mushroom forest, hoping that he wasn't too early to catch him awake. He was lucky today. The large insect was already up, packing books into a fabric bag to be returned to the library. It seemed he was on his way out.

"Good morning, Caterpillar!" Hare huffed as he jogged up, slowing down a little upon approach.

"Ah, Mr Hare. Good morning. Out for a morning run, I see." The Caterpillar was only marginally interested, which was usual.

Hare nodded and bounced around in place to keep his heart rate up, having worked up a sweat from his trek through the forest. The Caterpillar glanced at him silently, just the look of this bounding bunny making his bulky form feel tired.

"Can I help you?" Caterpillar finally asked, after a long awkward pause.

"Oh, right," Hare stopped hopping around, taking a seat on a large mushroom. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about something if you aren't busy. I need your help."

"I'm always busy, I have many things that I do that get no attention whatsoever," the six armed insect said, waving all of his right hands at the wrist at once. "But let's see what I can do for you. What's on your mind?"

"Well, as you know my Mother is coming to visit and I'm worried about impressing her. She expects me to be perfect and I just don't think I can deliver. I'm afraid she won't like my lifestyle choices."

"Well, you do live an… alternative lifestyle," Caterpillar droned, emphasizing the word alternative. "But everything you've said in the past about your mother has always been quite positive. What makes you think she won't approve of what you do?"

"Well, she expects me to be perfect all the time," he replied with a shrug. "I don't want to disappoint her."

"Do you think that maybe your mother doesn't expect you to be perfect, but believes that you are in fact perfect as you are?"

Hare paused and laughed at this notion, shaking his head. "If only that were the case!" he explained from his spot upon the mushroom. "She's always pushing me to do more, not to back down… and I'm afraid that I'll mess up and she won't be proud of me."

"Hmm. I see…" the Caterpillar put a gloved finger to his lips, nodding. "This does seem to be a tricky situation for you."

"You wouldn't happen to have a story to tell me, would you?" Hare asked reaching out and peeking into the bag of books the second pair of hands were holding, only to be slapped away.

"No, I'm afraid I don't…" he replied. "But I do have some words of wisdom that may help you."

Hare sat up at attention, listening eagerly.

"A wise man once said, 'A mother's love endures through all'," the Caterpillar said, waiving a finger around in the air as he spoke to punctuate his point. "I think you should be yourself, let your mother see the real you and let her love you for it. Because, after all, you are the only person who can be you."

Hare's shoulders drooped in disappointment, though he tried to hide it. He had wanted a different answer. "So, you're saying that I'm worrying for nothing."

"Precisely," Caterpillar said with a smile.

Hare huffed a little and stood up, brushing himself off as he thought to himself. "Thanks for the help, Caterpillar. I'll have to think about it some more."

Caterpillar watched Hare jog off through the mushroom forest, disappearing behind a tall purple fungi before speaking aloud to himself. "I pray for that woman and what she might experience in that house."

"25:40!" said a voice as Hare stumbled into the Hat house, sweaty and a little out of breath.

"What?" Hare asked, his glasses a little foggy as he looked around the room, trying to find the source of the voice.

"You're time," Hatter said, checking his pocket watch again with a nod. "Yup… 25:40."

"Man, I'm out of shape…"

"I think you're the perfect shape," Hatter said aloud with a smile.

Hare chortled and waved a hand at the Hatter, stumbling his way to the kitchen table and taking a seat. Hatter might have seen a blush on his partner's cheeks, if he wasn't already flushed from running. "I stopped and spoke to the Caterpillar for a little," Hare explained, wiping his glasses on his sweater before replacing them.

"Did he tell you a story? Please share," he said with a smile, dishing up an egg and tomato omelet, bacon and hash browns onto a plate for the Hare and sliding it his way.

"No, not a story. Just some crummy advice."

"Well, that's no fun," Hatter pouted. "What's the fun of visiting the Caterpillar if you don't get a good story out of it?"

Hare shrugged and tucked into his meal, partaking in some toast and strawberry jam with it. He'd asked for some coffee, but was firmly denied any, and settled on Raspberry tea with sugar.

Later that day, the pair were outside at the tea table enjoying the nice spring weather. Hatter had his guitar on his knee and was tuning it, strumming the strings and adjusting the tuning keys as he worked. Hare had his magic trunk out and open, its contents spilling onto the table. He had his EZ Magic Tricks book open and was reading through it, trying to find just the right illusions to add to his act. His nerves were getting frayed again and he was starting to feel overwhelmed.

Hatter noticed this and rested his hand on the guitar, watching Hare flip through the same five pages of the magic book. "You know…" he started, making him jump a little at the sudden sound of his voice. "I can help you choose, if you want help."

Hare wanted to resist the help, but accepted it. Hatter laid the guitar down on the table and scooted over, pushing cups and plates to the floor to make room for himself. He laid on his side so he could look through the book from the same direction as the Hare.

They flipped through the pages, looking at all the Ez detailed images. "Rings would be a nice touch…" Hatter pointed out.

Hare nodded. "And I've practiced the cuff trick. I can try that one again."

"Your mother hasn't seen that one, I guess it'll be alright… you need a big finisher," Hatter said, rotating the book a little more toward him and scanning through the pages quickly. Hare sat back a little, watching Hatter zoom through the book before stopping. "Eureka!"

"My what?" Hare asked in surprise, gazing down at the book.

"This is the one, Hare! Your big finisher." Hatter pointed a finger into the book and tilted it toward him, giving him a good look.

"Oh, Hatter…" he grimaced. "I, uh… I mean…"

"Come on, Hare! It'll be amazing! Can you imagine the look on your mother's face when she sees you pull that trick off!?"

Hare took the book in his hands and looked down at the instructions, scratching his head a little as he read. The trick seemed complicated… and they'd need to build some things in order to do it.

"You sure this belongs in the Ez book?" he muttered to himself.

Gazing up, he saw the excitement in Hatter's eyes and couldn't find it in his heart to disappoint him.

"Okay…" Hare breathed. "What have I got to lose?"

"That's the ticket!" Hatter celebrated, kicking his feet out a little and sending dishware to the ground with a smash.

"The book says we'll need a plant…" Hare rubbed his chin in contemplation. "You think I should pick one from my garden? I have a beautiful bluebell plant that is just about to bloom that might work."

Hatter pursed his lips and leaned back over, looking down at the book again with a furrowed brow. "No, not a plant like a flower! A plant like a helper. Someone in the audience who can help you who knows how the trick works. See?" He pointed to an illustration in the book with a gloved finger.

"Oh, right, I knew that," Hare chuckled nervously, reading the specifications of the type of 'volunteer' he'd need. "I bet I could get Alice to do it."

"She'll probably be around for tonight's tea party. You can talk to her about it then!"

Hare felt a little better about it, he knew he could trust Alice to be able to perform. He'd just have to worry about all the things he needed to do to get the trick to work out right. Flipping to the appendix, he started pulling diagrams and plans out of a hidden compartment in the back of the book, laying them out on the table to read over them. The strumming of the guitar started up again as Hatter began to play.

"We need to pick up the dry cleaning," Hare said as they got off the Wonderland bus the next day. "I dropped some things off for us earlier this week and I'm sure they're ready by now."

"Oh, well that's nice…" Hatter smiled, holding onto Hare's hand as they walked. "Where else are we going on our little trip into the city?"

"Just the Market. Alice said she'd be by early today to help with practice so we don't really have time to mess around." Hare was looking down at his grocery list in his free hand, making mental notes as they walked.

Hatter pouted, glancing around at all the shops he'd have liked to wander through. He stopped to peer in the window of some thrift shop and looked into it longingly, holding Hare back a little. "But I love messing around…"

Hare laughed and shook his head, pulling Hatter along to the Market. They walked in through the automatic doors and grabbed a shopping cart, pausing a moment by the self-serve Olive bar as Hare flipped through his grocery list.

"Don't forget, we need to get the usual stuff too," Hatter said, leaning on the cart with his feet up on the bar of the bottom basket. He watched Hare start to walk away before calling out. "Hare! Pull me!"

Hare looked up at him, a little annoyed already, but rolled his eyes and returned. "Fine, but only if you pull me later…" he griped, grabbing the front of the shopping cart and tugging it along behind him.

They made their way down the various aisles, grabbing the things they needed and tossing them into the bin. Hatter got caught up in the jam isle, trying to decide if he wanted to get more lemon marmalade or orange rhubarb jam for the table.

"Hare, you should learn to make jams and jellies and things…" Hatter said aloud, taking the orange rhubarb and placing it in the cart. "I bet you'd be good at it."

"I used to make wild berry jam with my Mom from the berries we had in our garden when I was young," Hare shrugged from inside the shopping cart, checking off items from his list. He was laying in the big basket and had his legs scrunched up, his feet hanging over the side as Hatter pushed him. "I can teach you sometime."

Hatter agreed. "That sounds pretty fun! Let's schedule that for three weeks from Wednesday."

"Noted!" Hare said, jotting it down in his calendar.

They continued to shop, making their way to the produce section when a tall white bunny came into view. Hatter and Hare stopped, glanced at each other with wicked grins on their faces, and made their way to him. They snuck up behind him as he was sniffing some carrots, looking very hungry.

"Nice day, Rabbit," Hatter said loudly from Rabbit's right, causing him to jump a little, almost losing his balance on his skates. He had dropped all the veggies he had in his hands though, sending them scattering on the floor. His brow was furrowed as he looked to the source of his freight, his shoulders dropping a little.

"What are you two doing here?" Rabbit said, flustered. He looked like he had already had a very long day and the last thing he wanted to deal with were these two dingle-berries

"Why, shopping of course!" Hare chuckled from the basket of the cart, struggling to pull his body out of it. He flopped around a little, cans and groceries falling in on him and keeping him in place. He eventually gave up and reached his arms out to Hatter, giving a small whimper.

"The Queen busting your balls today, Rabbit?" Hatter asked as he lifted the Hare out of the cart, helping him to his feet.

"No more than usual-" Rabbit started, but stopped himself and shook his head a little. "Why are you two bothering me? Don't you have things to be doing right now? Hare, isn't your mother coming tomorrow?"

"Oh, Rabbit, can't we come say hello to you when we run into you in public?" Hare asked, a goofy smile on his face as he put one hand on his hip, the other on Rabbit's shoulder. Rabbit grimaced and lifted the yellow hand from his body, looking at it like he didn't want to know where it had been.

'It's almost like you're ashamed to know us…" Hatter remarked, shaking his head.

"I'm on a time crunch and I don't have time to mess around. The Queen is expecting a full spread for dinner tonight and she wants me to give her a mani pedi while she watches The Bachelor tonight. And that's on top of everything else I have going on." Rabbit had stooped down and picked up the produce he dropped on the ground, placing them in a hand basket as he spoke. He was picking up an onion and placing it in his basket when Hatter pounced on him.

"What a coincidence! We're on a time crunch too!" He had a bright smile on his face as he wrapped an arm around Rabbit's shoulder, pulling him in close and almost off the ground. "How about we shop together and help each other out? It'll save time and be much more efficient."

"I can help you pick out some produce!" Hare offered, reaching out to the apples with an eager hand. "I'm good at picking out the fresh ones."

Rabbit's face puckered and he shook his head, remembering the last time he'd taken them with him to the grocery store. "No… I believe I can manage. Thank you~."

"Well, don't say we never tried to do anything for ya," Hatter said indignantly, a fake pout on his face.

Rabbit dusted himself off and shook a little, maybe to vent some frustration. "Now, if you don't mind-" he started, only to be stopped by Hatter again.

"So, did you think about the talent show at all? What are you going to do for your act?"

Rabbit put a hand to his temples, just wanting to get along with his day and away from this duo's shenanigans. "I told you already, I am far too busy to participate in something as trivial as a talent show. Unlike the two of you, I must work for a living. And the Queen is a very demanding woman."

"Oh, come on Rabbit! Don't be a spoiled sport." Hatter said, scrunching up his lips in mock disappointment. "Everyone else will be doing an act. You'll be left out if you don't do something."

"Yeah, and my Mom will be there," Hare added. "Wouldn't you like to show off a little for her? Maybe you'll get lucky. She's single..." he jabbed Rabbit in the ribs jokingly, giving him a playful wink.

The Rabbit grimaced and glanced at the Hare with what would almost be described as a look of complete disgust. The last thing he would ever want to do, would be to 'get' with anyone that this thing came out of.

"Even the Caterpillar is participating," Hatter added, looking in the Rabbit's basket and removing the carrots and some other vegetables, putting them back on the shelf unnoticed. "You'll be sorry…"

The Rabbit just wanted to be out of this duo's company "Alright!" he snapped, causing both Hatter and Hare to look at him with alarm. "I'll think about it, are you happy!? My carrots! All…" he looked down into his basket, noticing that it was half empty. "My carrots? Where are my carrots? And my celery? And the jicama?" His attention had been taken away from the pair and he was now looking around the produce department for his lost veggies.

"Oh, and now we're being ignored! Real mature, Rabbit! We can take a hint!" Hatter said, waving his hands in the air. "Come on, Hare. We have more shopping to do anyway." He then took hold of the handle of the shopping cart and stood on the bottom basket bar, Hare gripping the front of the cart and pulling him out of the produce department.

It took them five minutes to realize they hadn't gathered any fruits or vegetables and returned to the department, but dashed around to try to stay out of sight of Rabbit. He, of course, knew what they were doing and tried his best to ignore them. It was hard when he passed them with their heads lined up among the pineapples, trying not to be noticed.

When they were done squeezing oranges and sniffing cantaloupes, they made their way to the checkout line. Hare took out his envelope of coupons and had them at the ready when they got to the cashier. Hatter peeked into Hare's wallet and saw that it was mostly filled with photos of the two of them (and one of his mother), a barber shop punch card and his Movie Land Video membership card, as well as a blood donor card that said his blood type was O+. After adding a last minute purchase of two candy bars to their order, they loaded their arms up with their bags and set out on their way to the dry cleaners.

"Were you really insinuating that Rabbit should try to impress your mother while we were talking to him in the store just now?" Hatter asked, munching on his chocolate bar. At the time he hadn't thought it strange, he was in doofus mode and was mostly trying to give Rabbit a hard time, but thinking about it now it left a weird taste in his mouth. And it wasn't the chocolate he was nibbling.

"I was just yanking his chain," Hare shrugged his shoulders, brushing it off. "I mean, it's not like my Mother would be interested anyway. This is Rabbit we're talking about. He isn't really her type."

Hatter considered this and bobbed his head a little in agreement before scarfing down the rest of his candy bar.

Hare laid in bed later that night, staring at the yellow walls, the Hatter snuggled up against his side as he slept. He knew he'd be up half the night because of his nerves. The past couple days had been relaxing and smooth enough to take the edge off, but he still had that pit in his stomach. Something would go wrong, he knew it. It always did.

He ran through all the plans in his head, calculating what he could do to minimize mistakes. In all honesty, he wasn't worried about the tea party. They had prepared all the tarts and they were in the deep freezer in the basement, waiting to be baked up fresh tomorrow. All the makings of the sandwiches were in the fridge and they'd pick up their order from Just Add Sugar tomorrow on the way to the train station. It was the magic act he was more worried about. He'd only managed to do half the tricks correctly when he and Alice had practiced them and got so nervous that he handcuffed his wrist to his ankle somehow. And the big showstopper he never managed to get right! Oh, why had he agreed with the Hatter to do this?

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he looked at the round alarm clock next to him on the bedside table, squinting his eyes to read the time. It was late he really needed to sleep.

Wiggling down a little, he burrowed into the covers, causing Hatter to stir a little beside him.

"It's okay, Hare," he mumbled, half asleep as he gave the bunny a squeeze. "We have another jar of pickles in the fridge."

"Hare, you need to take a seat and try to relax," Hatter remarked, watching his friend pace around the tea table once again. "You look like you dug into the caffeine again."

"My Mother will be here in," Hare paused and looked at his watch, nose twitching. "Two hours, fifteen minutes and 12 seconds. How can I not panic?!"

Hatter rolled his eyes and stirred his morning tea lazily, adding another cube of sugar to it. "Just calm down and breathe, it'll be okay." He was focusing on the tea so much he didn't notice when the Hare took a harmonica out of his pocket and started to breath in and out of it, filling the air with the shrill sound. Hatter watched him silently, a brow cocked, sipping from his teacup.

The Dormouse peeped out of his teapot, tiny hands gripping the rim and head swirling around. "What is that noise?"

"The Hare is having a breakdown," Hatter mentioned casually. "Give him a couple minutes and he'll calm down."

Dormouse blinked and glanced at the Hare, who was still wheezing into the harmonica. "If this is going to be a regular thing, I might have to look for another teapot. If the hills are alive with this sound of music, I don't think I'll be able to stand it."

Hatter nodded. "How true that is," he said as he got to his feet, striding up behind his friend and reaching around to pluck the harmonica out of his hands, tossing it over his shoulder into the bushes. "Don't worry so much. The house is clean, your place is all prepared, and this afternoon's tea party will be a success. Everyone already told us they were going to be here early, so all you have to do is bring your Mom." Leaning forward, he gave his Hare a peck on the cheek.

The Hare sighed, his shoulders dropping a little as he scrunched his face up. He knew he was overreacting but he couldn't help it. "My Mother expects a lot out of me, only the best. I just want to make her proud. And I want her to approve of us."

"And she will," the Hatter patted him on the shoulders, giving them a squeeze before letting them go. "I think you need some camomile tea and a little sit down. Maybe if you're good, I'll let you help me set the table with your cups and saucers for tonight."

"I do love camomile…" Hare managed, taking a seat and grabbing a scone, not fully intending to eat any of it. He had too many butterflies in his stomach and none of them were hungry either.

After managing to get some calming tea in his system, Hatter decided he'd let the Hare help with setting the table. All the gifted tea sets had been washed the night before and were gleaming in their boxes as they were brought out.

"Now to just clear the table," Hatter announced, lifting his arms up to swipe the current settings onto the ground.

"Hatter, no!" Hare threw himself over the tea table, covering the cups and saucers in the process, hearing a few of them crack under his weight.

Hatter dropped his arms at his sides, brow furrowed. "What's the problem now?"

"What would my mother think if she saw you being careless with your things? She'd find it unnecessarily unruly!"

"How true that is," Hatter said, putting a finger to his chin as he considered it. "So, no throwing things. Anything else?"

"Just…" Hare heaved, getting up from the table and dusting himself off. "Try to keep in control. Don't get too crazy. My Mother likes order and discipline. If she sees you acting wild, she might get the wrong idea."

"So, you don't like me acting crazy now?"

Hare stopped suddenly, his eyes growing wide as he realized what it sounded like. "No no no, I love you being crazy! You're my Mad Hatter and I don't want you any other way. I just don't think my Mother will appreciate it as much as I do."

The Hatter tried to look offended but he simply couldn't. He knew the Hare meant well and just wanted to impress. Plus he looked so cute when he was wound up tight as a drum.

"I'll try my best, but I make no promises," he joked, giving his Hare a peck on the lips. "Were you like this when your mother met all your other partners, or am I just lucky?"

"Oh…" Hare's face went red as a nervous laugh slipped from his lips. "She didn't exactly meet too many of them. Not that I've had many."

Hatter smirked and shook his head, not surprised in the slightest about his answer.

Hare stood on the train station platform, his shoes shined and his suit pressed, holding a bouquet of pansies from his own garden, tied together with a yellow ribbon. He kept bouncing on his toes, a bundle of nerves. Hatter felt that it was a good thing he had decided to come with him to the station, he was pretty sure his pal was going to take off like a rocket if there wasn't someone there holding him down. He was seated on a bench on the platform, a couple pink boxes from Just Add Sugar next to him as well as a box of handmade chocolates. "Hare, why don't you take a seat? The train is only a few minutes late."

"I can't sit, I'm just too nervous!" he squeaked, biting at his thumb as he looked up and down the track. "Remind me again why we're doing this?"

"Because if we're going to take our relationship to the next level I'm going to have to eventually meet your mother. And now is as good a time as any." Hatter reached his long arm and grasped Hare's hand, holding it to try to calm him down a little. It didn't seem to work. "Come and sit."

"I think maybe a year from next July would be a better day," Hare wheezed and moved to dash off the platform when a loud whistle made the pair jump. They turned to see the train pull up to the station, steam streaming from the smokestack. The train pulled in to a stop, pausing and then jolting forward once before the doors flung open. Hare stood there, fidgeting, waiting to see his mother come out of the double doors. When she didn't, he looked at the Hatter with a worried expression and dashed in to search for her.

It didn't take long before they appeared on the landing, June holding the bouquet of flowers in her gloved hands and the Hare dragging her obscenely large amount of luggage behind them.

"How was your trip?" The Hare asked his mother, attempting to lift her bags up onto his shoulder.

"It was marvelous, very relaxing," she crooned in her squeaky voice. June was fussing over him as they walked, adjusting his bow tie and pushing his bangs away from his eyes. "Although the guard kept harassing me for my ticket every stop. He was very rude."

The two approached Hatter and paused, looking up at him expectantly. He had gotten to his feet and met them halfway down the landing, holding the boxes of sugary goodies in his arms.

"Mom, this is the Mad Hatter."

Hatter could definitely see the family resemblance. She looked exactly like the Hare, only with a grey hairdo and lipstick. It was almost off putting.

"June!" Hatter beamed, thrusting a box of chocolate covered carrots in her direction. "So nice to finally meet you!"

June Hare smiled at the Hatter. "Oh, Hatter. Yes, it's lovely to finally meet you too. I've only ever spoken to you over the telephone." She seemed to give him a quick once over, her eyes scanning him for any imperfections in his dress or demeanor. She didn't give any indication that something was wrong, so the Hatter figured he was in the clear. "And thank you for these, I'm sure they're delicious."

"Hare and I made them ourselves," Hatter beamed, looking at his buddy. "From your family recipe, I believe."

The Hare looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown, but he was keeping it together. He kept balling his little hands up, fidgeting with his fingers behind his back. Hatter thought he looked adorable.

"That's very sweet of you," June mused, tucking the box under her arm as the group left the station and walked their way to Hare's house. About halfway there, Hatter took some of June's luggage from his boyfriend to give his arms a break.

June seemed charmed by Hare's little home. She thought the garden was impressive and oohed and awed as they entered the tiny abode. They settled her in Hare's guest room, leaving her bags there as they gave her a tour. Hare thought he'd faint when he saw her do a glove test on the top of some of his bookshelves, but it seemed he had passed her test because she didn't say anything.

About halfway through the tour, Hatter took out his golden pocket watch to check the time. "I should probably get home and get the tea brewing," he whispered to Hare as his mother stepped out of the room.

"Okay…" Hare whined, not wanting to be left alone. He was still a bundle of nerves, constantly afraid his mother would find something out of place for him to fix.

Hatter smiled and gave his hare a kiss on the cheek to calm him a little. "She got here safe, she seems happy with everything… try to relax."

"I'll try," he huffed, managing a weak smile. "I'll bring her over in about an hour."

"I'll see you then," he replied with a wink before speaking out loud. "I'm going to head home and get the tea started, June. I'll see you there in a bit."

"That will be nice," June replied from the next room. They found her in the kitchen standing on a chair, rotating all the cans in the pantry so their labels faced forward.

"Oh no…" Hare moaned. "Mom, stop. Leave those…"

#fanfic #adventures in wonderland #aiw #guess who's coming for tea #gwcft

4 notes · View notes

hotsummertrash · 6 years

Text

you are the reason ⋆ c.h

Pairing: Calum x OC

Summary: Calum reflects on his past after two of the most important people in his life are gone.

Warning(s): angst, fluff, memories, swearing, fighting, this is a whole ass story

Song: You Are the Reason by Calum Scott

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: italics are memories, bold italics are song lyrics

• • • •

"Still staring at the picture?" Mali's voice pulled Calum out of his trance.

His tired eyes glanced up at his sister who stood in his doorway, her arms crossed and shoulder leaning against the wall. Her face held outright pity as she looked down on her younger brother whose eyes were red with dark bags beneath them.

"I-" his raspy voice starts before he cuts himself off, a small exhale escaping his mouth. He looks back down at the picture frame in his hands, his face crinkling back up as his eyes sting with tears for the tenth time that day.

"Cal," Mali sighed, walking into his room and taking a seat on the bed beside him. "You've haven't left this house in a week."

"They'll be coming back soon," he assured himself. "I want to be here when they get here."

Mali frowned, glancing away from her brother and at the ground solemnly.

Calum's eyes burned holes into the photo he was holding, his vision roaming back and forth between two of the most beloved faces in his world.

"Bub," Mali began, but Calum quickly cut her off with a shake of his head.

"Don't say anything," he mumbled. "They're coming back. I know they are."

"The guys are worried," she informed him, but he kept quiet there on out. Mali closed her mouth and reluctantly nodded, clasping her hands together and rising back up to her feet. She headed back out of the room, halting right before exiting through the door. "I'll be back tomorrow. I left food in the kitchen. Love you, Cal."

When he doesn't reply, she bites the inside of her left cheek and officially leaves, making her way out his room, down the stairs, out of his house and to her car.

The second Calum hears the front door close, he's snapped out of his trance once again. He looks up and notices that his sister is gone. He hadn't realized when she'd done so.

He slowly placed the frame down on the bed beside him before standing up and running a hand through his tangled tousles.

His feet slid across the floor as he trudged out of his room, his stomach making noises due to the emptiness of it.

He subconsciously halted in front of one specific door, goosebumps rising on his timid skin as nausea settles within him. His eyes water for what seems like the hundredth time when he reads the seven letters on the top of the white door.

'Grayson'.

• • • •

Four Years Ago

"He already has your hair," Elaine murmured as she watched her three-week-old baby boy in the middle of her and Calum's shared bed.

Calum smiled, staring down at his beautiful son whose eyes were closed as he peacefully slept.

Elaine couldn't stop awing at Grayson, even weeks after he had been born. She still couldn't fathom the thought that this tiny perfect human had formed inside of her.

This mix of Elaine and Calum with dark curly hair, chocolate brown eyes and golden skin was the newfound epitome of love for both of them.

Calum took his son's hand into his own, running his thumb over the soft skin. His eyes then traveled up to his wife who was too busy looking down at Grayson. Calum happily reflected on his small family, which he loved with all of his heart.

There and then, he knew that nothing would ever top the feeling he had felt at that moment.

"I don't want him to grow," Calum admitted with a small laugh.

"I just want to stare at him like this all day," Elaine gushed, tilting her head to the side. "I love him so much, my chest aches."

"My two angels," Calum beams at the two. "My two loves."

• • • •

Three Years Ago

"Good morning, bug," Elaine's soft voice made Grayson smile up at her, his knees bending as his hands held on to the bars of his crib. "Why are you up so early?" She lifts him up into her arms and kisses the side of his curly head.

"Dah," the toddler hummed, bunching Elaine's shirt in his tiny hands.

"Wanna wake up Daddy?" She suggested, to which he sluggishly nodded. She let out a small chuckle before turning and walking out of his room, heading into hers and Calum's.

Calum had shuffled to the middle of the bed in the small amount of time she's been gone, his arms spread beside him as he comfortably sleeps on his stomach. Elaine settles herself beside him and places Grayson onto the bed.

Grayson crawls to his father, placing his hands on Calum's face and babbling a few incoherent words - if he could even call them words.

"Dah," Grayson muttered.

"Daddy's tired," Elaine runs a hand through Calum's hair, igniting a soft grunt.

"- time is it?" Calum lowly grumbled, blinking a few times before turning on his back. His yawn forms into a smile when he spots Grayson, taking his son and sitting him on his bare chest.

"A little after eight," Elaine doesn't pull her hand from her husband's roots, an action he genuinely enjoyed.

"I'm exhausted," Calum yawns again as Grayson scoots backward on his chest so he can lie down, resting his face on his father's collarbone. "What're you doing up so early?"

"I think Mali put him to bed early last night," Elaine leaned her back against the headboard and grabbed her phone from the nightstand with her free hand, scrolling through a few emails while Calum began to drift back to sleep.

Grayson sat up and saw Calum's closed eyes, his face scrunching up in distress.

"Dah," Grayson whined, catching Elaine's attention.

"Daddy's sleeping," she cooed, putting her phone down and reaching over to take him off of Calum's chest.

Grayson let out a whine, his eyes forming tears at the separation.

"Don't cry, baby, he'll be up soon," Elaine sighed, wiping away the first tear that fell. She bit her bottom lip as Grayson's mouth opened, knowing that the next sound leaving his mouth would be a heavy and chalky sob.

Calum's eyes fluttered open once again as he hears Grayson's cries.

"Wanna lay with Daddy, then?" Elaine suggests, and Grayson eagerly nods. Calum forms a lazy yet smug grin while Elaine rolled her eyes with a small smile. "What happened to being a Mama's boy, eh?" She huffed, placing Grayson down beside his father.

Calum opened his arms and Grayson crawled right into them, his head lying on Calum's chest while he sits on his knees. Calum's hand runs up and down Grayson's back, stopping the tot's cries and Elaine couldn't help but gush at the sight. No matter how many times she's seen the two interact, she knew she'd never get over it.

"I'm gonna change," Elaine stood from the bed and used the hair tie on her wrist to bring up her shoulder-length hair into a ponytail.

"For wha'?" Calum asked.

"Going to pick up Dee from Dad's," she replies, pushing excess hair behind her ear. "Remember?"

Elaine's dad and Farrah, his wife and Elaine's stepmother, would be visiting Haiti and staying with Farrah's family for the next two weeks, leaving their Norwich Terrier, Dee, in Elaine's hands until they return.

"Ah, yeah," he nods. "Thought you were gonna do that later."

"Well, I'm up now and not going back to sleep anytime soon," she shrugged, turning and making her way to the walk-in closet. She grabs one of Calum's graphic tees and a pair of leggings before putting them on.

After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she walks back into the bedroom to see Calum back asleep while Grayson lies beside him.

When Grayson sees his mother, he sits up and opens his arms to her.

"Oh, now you want Mama?" She teases, picking him up into his arms. "Want to come to Grandpa and Grandma with me?"

Grayson doesn't respond, not truly understanding what she had asked. Elaine takes the silence as a yes and goes to get Grayson ready in his room.

She gives him a quick bird bath before putting him into dark blue sweat slacks and a regular grey shirt. She put his Velcro shoes on before sliding her own sneakers on, as well.

"Let's say bye to Daddy," Elaine said as the two entered the master bedroom once again. "Give kiss."

Grayson leans towards Calum from his mother's arms and pressed his lips against the corner of Calum's lips. Calum stirred awake for the third time, blinking his tired eyes into clear vision.

"We'll be back soon," Elaine smiled, leaning over herself to give her husband a kiss. Calum kisses her back on the lips for a few seconds before kissing Grayson on the forehead. "Love you."

"Love you, too," he hums as his wife and son exit his bedroom.

Twenty minutes later, Elaine and Grayson arrive at her father and step-mother's house. The second they step through the door, Grayson is running into Farrah's arms.

"Gam!" He giggled as his grandmother lifted him into her arms and attacked his face with her kisses.

"Hi, Mom," Elaine chuckled, closing the front door behind her just as Dee comes running into the room, barking up a storm.

"Hi, Baby," Farrah kisses Elaine on the cheek before turning back to Grayson.

"Where's Dad?" Elaine walked into the living room and set her keys on the coffee table.

"In the backyard, pulling out the weeds," Farrah hummed.

"Smells good, you making food?" Elaine's face lit up as her mouth slightly watered at the thought of her step-mother's cooking.

When Elaine was fifteen, her father had re-married and the family of two became a family of three. Elaine was an American-raised Italian and all she knew before Farrah entered their lives was microwavable dishes and cliché dinners only on days like Thanksgiving and Christmas. When Farrah had become her official step-mother, it was as if an entire new world opened up at her hands and that world contained various flavors of Caribbean food, her newfound favorite kind.

"Ah, wi!" Farrah grinned. "I'm making food for you guys while we're gone. Got nothing better to do."

"That's too kind, Mom, thank you," Elaine cheered, walking to the kitchen.

"No problem, Baby. There are plantains, potato salad, egg salad, mayi moulin, blah blah blah," she lists. "Woke up early this morning and had nothing better to do. Packing is done, and Gio wanted to pull the weeds before we're off. The food's done, actually. Just need to put it all in containers."

"Smells like heaven," Elaine fawns. Farrah grins at the compliment and places Grayson back onto the ground, although the sticks by her side.

"Hey!" All heads turn at the loud and deep voice caused by Elaine's father as he walked in through the back door. The sweat on him was very visible, from his armpits to his shining forehead. "Thought you were coming later."

"Grayson and I woke up early, so I decided to come and get Dee now," Elaine shrugged, walking towards her father and wrapping her arms around him, avoiding his damp pit stains.

"Where's my favorite grand-baby?" Gio beamed as he pulled away from his daughter, leaning down happily.

"He's your only grand-baby," Farrah cocked her head to the side as Grayson gave his grandfather a hug.

"Not for long, right?" Gio glances up at Elaine with a smug grin, to which she rolled her eyes at. "Where's Cal?"

"Sleeping. We got in late last night."

Elaine and Calum had gone to a concert the night before with a few friends and then drinks afterward, leading up to them arriving home at one in the morning. It was safe to say that Calum was sporting a very severe hangover.

"Ah, well I'll give him a call sometime soon," Gio shrugged. Elaine always loved the relationship between her father and husband. She had been afraid growing up that he would never accept anybody she'd gotten with, but when he actually accepted Calum as her boyfriend, eventual husband and father of her child, everybody was exceptionally taken by surprise.

Elaine bent down and picked up Dee, kissing the old dog on the top of its head.

"Thanks for holding her," Gio nodded, rising to his feet.

"No worries. Grayson loves Dee, right, Gray?"

"Dee!" Grayson called, causing Gio to let out a hefty chuckle.

Elaine and Grayson hang about her parent's house for another half hour before they head back home, with a tote full of containers and food and a fifteen-year-old dog.

"There my gorgeous family is," Calum's voice echoes through the halls as Elaine walks in with Grayson and Dee. "What smells so good? Farrah give us leftovers?"

"More like entire meals," Elaine holds the tote up. "Said she wanted us to eat well while she was gone."

"Love that woman," Calum laughed, kneeling down to pet Dee. Grayson kicked off his shoes before running off to the playroom, busying himself with the various toys surrounding him.

"Even made your favorite," Elaine hummed as Calum stood back up and took her hand into his, leading her to the kitchen.

"Her potato salad?"

"Mhm," she hummed and Calum fist-bumped the air happily.

After she set the bag on the counter, she turned in Calum's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck while his wrap around her waist.

"Want to watch movies with a few friends tonight?" He suggests. "Can put Gray to bed and then eat so much our stomachs hurt."

"Sounds like a ball," Elaine giggled. "Who's coming?"

"The guys, Crystal, Patrick, Andy, Kahleel," he lists.

"Alright. I'm not picking the movie, though," she lightly pats his cheek. "Last time I picked the movie, everyone hated it."

"We didn't hate it," he lies yet visibly fails. Elaine rose a single eyebrow but he held his act. "Well, I kind of liked it..." Elaine's face only grew more unamused and he eventually gave up. "Alright, I'll choose the movie."

"Mhm," she nodded.

"But we've got to go shopping for snacks. I don't want them eating our food, most importantly- Farrah's food."

"There's enough to go around," Elaine laughed.

"Nope," he shook his head. "More for us. Let's go."

"Fine," Elaine shook her head with another chuckle, walking out of his hold. "Let me just put this food away first and we'll go."

"Gray!" Calum called, walking to the playroom that was right next to the living room.

"Huh?" Grayson called back, walking out of the room with Dee in his footsteps.

"Let's put your shoes back on, Buddy."

The three head to Target not too long after that. Grayson sits in the front of the cart while Calum pushes and Elaine throws whatever she believes their friends will eat into it.

"Patrick and Kahleel said they like plantain chips, right?" Elaine asked although she knew Calum wouldn't know.

"I have no idea," he shrugged, throwing a pack of dried mango into the cart for himself.

Elaine opened her mouth when someone tapped on her shoulder. She turned and rose her eyebrows at the sight of three teenage girls who she could only guess were fans.

"Oh my- h-hi," one of them greet.

"Hi," Elaine smiled.

"You're Elaine Hood," another one of them says, star-struck eyes staring at her.

"I like to say I am," Elaine jokes.

"And you're Calum Hood," she says, internally squealing.

"Could we please get a picture?" The third asks. "But it's completely fine if not, we just-"

"Of course!" Elaine waved a single hand. "What are your names?" She soon learned that Cassidy, Eve and India stood in front of her.

"I really loved you in Laze Daze and Land Of! Those are actually my two favorite movies," Eve says, and Elaine basks in the compliment.

During Elaine's elementary and middle school years, she had acted in five movies, four of them being world-known. Before entering high school, she chose to stop acting because that's not what she wanted to do in life. And even though she stopped all those years ago, people still recognized her to this day.

"And I love Five Seconds of Summer so much! I've been a fan since you guys opened for One Direction!" Cassidy enthusiastically says, making Calum smile.

"Is that Grayson? He's so adorable!" Eve adds.

"I want your genes," India jokes and Elaine lightly chuckles.

Elaine takes a picture with the three girls before Calum does so as well and they leave hastily and gratefully.

"They were sweet," Elaine hummed as they strolled into the frozen aisle.

Calum just nodded, internally happy that others love his family, as well. Although nobody loves them more than he does.

• • • •

Two Years Ago

"This one looks nice, eh?" Calum hums, picking a shell from the wet sand and holding it up in front of Grayson.

"Pretty," Grayson nods, taking the shell from Calum’s hold and putting it into the green bucket. He turned just as the tide came in, water running over his feet. He grew giddy and squealed as his head shrunk into his shoulders.

"Water's cold?" Calum laughs.

"Yeah, water cold," Grayson repeats.

Calum smiled and looked over to where Elaine, Kahleel and Ashton sat beneath their very large beach umbrella. Ashton and Elaine laughed together while Kahleel was fast asleep, her sun hat on her face blocking her from the winded sand.

"Daddy, go in," Grayson put the bucket on the floor.

"You wanna go in?" Calum asked.

"Yeah! Yeah, in."

"You sure, Bug?"

"In," Grayson repeated.

"Alright, alright," Calum gave in, taking the bucket that carried a few shells and placing it a bit farther out so the tide wouldn't take it.

Calum takes Grayson's hand into his and they walk a few inches deeper into the water.

"Cold!" Grayson squealed and Calum chuckled. Calum bends down and flicks very little water at him. "Daddy!" Grayson splashes water back at his father and they both were swarmed in laughter as they played in the water.

Calum would lift his son out of the ocean water and then place him back down repeatedly, which was more fun than it sounded for the both of them.

From the shore, Elaine and Ashton watched the two with smiles on their faces. Elaine got her phone out and snapped a few pictures of Calum kissing Grayson's cheek and spinning him in the air.

Eventually, Elaine had gotten up and went to join the two in the water. She happily took Grayson from Calum's hands before Calum wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and held them both in their air. Scream-like giggles filled the air.

Moments later, the playful energy had cooled down and Grayson's head rested on his mother's shoulder. Calum's arm is around his wife's waist and the three turn to watch as the sun slowly disappears behind the body of water, purple skies taking over.

Calum reflected on his life at that moment, subconsciously smiling and tightening his hold on Elaine, kissing the side of her head giddily.

"Love you, Angel," he sighs.

• • • •

One Year Ago

"L is for the way you look at me," Elaine sings as Calum and her glide through the living room, Michael Bublé blaring through the wall speakers.

"O is for the only one I see," Calum mixes singing and giggling in together, the two glasses of wine barely affecting him.

"V is very, very extraordinary!"

"E is even more than anyone that you adore."

"And love is all that I can give to you," they both sing together, their hands clasped and feet roaming the floor in sync. "Love is more than just a game for two. Two in love can make it. Take my heart but please don't break it. Love was made for me and you!"

Calum abruptly leaned forward and pecked her lips, making her grin just before he hoisted her in the air and on his shoulder.

"Calum!" She squealed, slapping his back and then his rear end a few times.

He dropped her on the couch and threw himself on top, both of them erupting into full belly laughs. Calum's kisses start at her shoulder and lead up to the corner of her mouth before pulling away with a mocking smile.

"Michael is still playing, Cal!" She pushed him off of her and jumped up, twirling to the sound of Michael Bublé's voice happily. Calum grins at the sight, leaning back and running a hand through his hair.

"Dance with me, Baby," Elaine holds her hand out for him, and he shrugs before taking it and rising. They spin, skip and leap around, having the time of their tipsy lives. At the last note of the song, Elaine takes Calum and tips him over like the males typically do to females. Jokingly, she drops him and they erupt into another fit of heavy laughs.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Grayson's voice shouts from the second floor. Calum sits up and Elaine freezes as both of their parenting instincts take place.

"Stop the music!" Calum shouts as he hops up and runs after Elaine up the stairs.

"Gray, what is it?" Elaine calls and rushed into Grayson's room. She flicks his light on and hurried to his bed, Calum on her heels.

"My nose is fuffy," he whines, kicking his sheets off of him.

"Your nose is stuffy?" Calum furrows his eyebrows and Grayson nods.

"And my head hurts," he adds.

Elaine places the back of her hand against his forehead and recoils at the hot skin.

"Think he might have a fever," Elaine sighed, standing up and heading to the first-floor bathroom where the first aid kit is. She takes out the thermometer and makes her way back to Grayson's room.

Grayson sits on Calum's lap as he quietly cries and winces.

"Open your mouth, Gray," Elaine instructs. "And lift your tongue." After a thorough check, she bites her lip as the thermometer reads 101.7 degrees. She eventually gets Tylenol and a cold cloth while Calum moves Grayson to their bedroom.

After an hour of whines, Grayson is fast asleep on between Calum and Elaine. Elaine rests on her side, one arm beneath her head while she runs her free hand through her son's hair, a liking he had gotten from his father.

"Scared me half to death," Calum murmured with a small sigh.

"Thank God it's just a fever," Elaine said, her voice low and soft as she tries not to wake the three-year-old.

Calum leaned forward and kissed Grayson's forehead, pulling back and watching as Elaine's eyes flutter closed and her hands slowly come to a stop in Grayson's hair. He lets out a sigh and closes his own eyes, basking in the presence of the loves of his life.

• • • •

One Week Ago

"You're overreacting," Calum scoffs as he bent forward and slid his shoes on.

"You haven't been home in weeks, Calum," Elaine rolled her eyes. "And then when you are home, you spend all of your time out and about! How is wanting my husband to spend time with his family 'overreacting'?"

"I'm always with you two, I just want to hang out with friends. What's wrong with that?"

"There's nothing wrong with that. But there is something wrong when Grayson repeatedly asks where his father is."

"You act like I don't come home at all," he rolls his eyes.

"You might as well not! You come home at three in the fucking morning every day and sleep until noon, and then you're out again," Elaine throws her hands in the air.

"You're shitting on me because for the first time in five years I'm living my fucking life," he stood up angrily, not even realizing the words that came from his mouth.

"Oh, really?" Elaine crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. "First time in five years?"

"Don't act surprised," he spits.

"Excuse me for being taken aback while my husband basically tells me that he regrets marrying me and having our child."

"You're twisting my words," Calum grumbled. "Talk to me when you're over the dramatics."

"I don't know what's up your ass, but I suggest you take it out."

"You! You're up my ass! All day, every fucking day! I'm twenty-two years old, Elaine! I'm still young! I should be having fun, wasting the night away. Not shopping for car beds and... microwaves!"

"It's kind of too late for second thoughts, Calum," Elaine stood in front of the bed as her chest ached with every word that came out of Calum's mouth.

"Yeah, I understand that much," he murmurs.

The two are quiet for a few seconds, Elaine's eyes brimming with tears as she quietly pants, not knowing what to think or do.

"So you do regret marrying me," she concludes.

"We were too young then, and we're still too young now," he shrugs.

"And you regret having Grayson," she narrows her eyes as they cast downwards and to her bare feet against the carpeted floor.

"I have to go," Calum ignores her words.

"So you're just going to leave? While we're talking?"

"We're not talking, Elaine. You're yelling at me!"

"Because you're being a fucking prick!" She shouted, her face red with anger. "You tell me that you regret ‘us’ and think you can just go drink the night away? Leaving your wife and son at home?!"

"I'll be home in a few," he ignores her words once again, making her even more upset.

"How could you talk to me like that and expect everything to be fine? For me to just accept that you want to take back everything we've built together - our lives?!" Elaine's voice only grew louder.

Calum keeps silent and walks out of the room, making his way to Grayson's.

He turns into his son's room and catches Grayson slowly flipping through a picture book.

Grayson looks up, his eyes brightening when he sees his father.

"Daddy!" Grayson cheered, standing up and running into his father's arms. "Daddy, can we watch Paw Patrol movie? Me and Mommy watched it, I want you to!"

"Maybe another time, Bug," Calum sighed, kissing the top of Grayson's head. "How about tomorrow?"

"Can't cancel a night of drinks to spend time with your own son?" Elaine's voice made his stomach sink from behind him.

"I just want time for myself, can I not have that?" Calum asks through grit teeth.

"Mommy, why are you crying? Are you okay?" Grayson moved away from Calum and to his mother.

"Yes, Baby, I'm alright," Elaine exhaled, wiping at her damp cheeks.

"Where's Daddy going?" Grayson asked as Calum headed downstairs.

"Gray, go to your room. I'll be there in a second," Elaine told the four-year-old before reluctantly following Calum to the first floor.

"Hope your dramatics are gone by the time I'm back," he tiffs, walking out the front door and to his car in the driveway.

"Have a great time, Calum. Hope you can find another girl at the club tonight, ask to marry her and then give her a kid. Maybe you won't regret this one."

"Would you stop it?" Calum spat.

Without another word, she slams the door and hastily locks it, taking a step back and looking at the closed doors with blurry vision. She picked up a hand and placed it on her mouth as a son began to brew. Her face shriveled and she dropped to the floor, moving to bury her entire face in her hands.

"Mommy."

Elaine's face lifted from her palms at the cracked voice of her son. She turned to him, who stood on the bottom step with a frown on his small oblivious face.

"Daddy make you cry?" He quietly questions.

She didn't know how to answer him, standing up and taking her quivering bottom lip between her teeth.

"Let's get you into a bath. Almost bedtime," she sniffs, lifting him in her arms and heading back up the stairs.

Grayson didn't play in the bath like he usually did that night. His mood wasn't the highest knowing that his mother wasn't okay. His eyes kept roaming her sad and distant face. When he was hanging into his pajamas, tears were still leaking out of her eyes.

"Can I sleep in your bed?" He asked, wanting to be close to his glum mother.

"Of course, Baby," she says quietly, taking his hand in hers and leading him to her room. She lifts him onto the bed and forces a smile as she watches him crawl underneath the covers.

Elaine crawled in beside him, lying on her back while Grayson shuffles his head into her neck.

Her mind drifted as Grayson fell asleep, and eventually, she realizes that she had been staring at the ceiling for two hours. Her eyes were numb and swollen by now and her chest felt heavier than ever. The migraine she had didn't help with her emotions either. No matter how long she tried, her mind kept wandering back to Calum and everything he told her mere hours before.

She wondered what he was up to at that moment - if he took some of her sarcastic advice and hooked up with someone else; if he didn't regret a word and actually meant that his entire life with her was a mistake; if he genuinely felt tied down by them.

"Time," she whispers to herself. "Time is what he wants."

Without a second thought, she slid Grayson off of her and rose from the bed. With a burst of negative adrenaline, she pulled two suitcases out from the back of the closet. She set them both at the end of the bed and opened them before going back to the closet and grabbing a few shirts. She then took enough jeans, shorts, leggings, sweatpants and underwear to last a week or two and threw them into the cases.

She eventually moves to Grayson's room, grabbing an armful of clothing from his drawers and filling the second suitcase. She didn't forget to pack a few of his toys or her laptop and any other small necessities. She quietly brings the luggage down the stairs and to her car.

Through the entire process, she didn't stop crying, her hands shaking and nose running.

Towards the end of it all, she changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt before going for the last move of it all. Grayson.

She grabs his blanket from his own bed before lifting him into her arms bridal style, trying her best not to wake him.

When she puts him into his car seat, he stirs but doesn't wake up, fortunately for her.

Elaine climbs into the driver's seat and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and running her hands down her face.

"What am I doing?" She whispers to herself. And then she remembers everything that had happened that night. "Giving him space, that's what I'm doing."

She pulls out her phone and goes to send Calum a message, keeping it short and blunt. A second after hitting the send button, she shuts her phone off and tosses it into the seat beside her and turns on the engine of the car.

She clears her mind the second she turns the corner of the street, their house getting farther with every push of the gas.

• • • •

He slides down to the floor with his back against the wall, a new sob rising in his throat. He clenches his eyes closed and throws his head back.

He reluctantly pulls out his phone, slowly opening his eyes and going to his messages, opening the app and going straight for Elaine's contact.

His eyes scroll through all of the texts he's sent her in the past six days. He apologized about thirty times and called over fifty, each of his calls being declined. He had even left voicemails, but all of them have gone unanswered. He went as far as calling her parents and friends, all of them claiming to not know where you are. Though the talk with her father hadn't been the most uplifting, reasonably.

Eventually, he reaches the last text message you sent, and all of the emotions he felt when first reading it coursed through his body once again.

• • • •

One Week Ago

Calum sat in a booth at the bar, physically there but not mentally.

"You alright?" Andy asked, crossing his arms and placing them on the table before them.

"Hm?" Calum turns to his friend.

"You're spacing. Everything okay?"

Calum let out a sigh, not sure whether to lie and brush off his troubles or burst like a damn. He eventually chooses to go with the latter.

"It's Elaine," Calum muttered. "I said some crap before coming here and I don't know why I said it."

"What'd you say?" Andy furrowed his eyebrows.

"Complete bullshit," he was detested with himself. "I implied... implied that marrying her was a mistake."

Andy's eyes widen as his lips parted in disbelief.

"Please tell me you're joking," Andy groaned.

"I'm such a fucking prick," Calum looked up and inhaled.

"What the fuck, Cal? Why would you say something like that? You're always going on about how she's the best thing that's happened to you since the band."

"I know," he murmured. "I just... I was in the wrong, but I was being stubborn. She just wanted me to spend some time with her and Gray and my head was too far up my ass."

"You can't do shit like that, man," Andy frowned. "You've got a beautiful loving wife and a healthy four-year-old boy. Do you know how lucky you are? Your wife adores you and your son looks up to you. Why would you want to dent that all just for a couple drinks with us?"

"I-I don't know. I was talking crap, I didn't mean anything. I fucking love Elaine and Grayson is my lifeline. I'd go crazy if I lost them."

"So then why are you here?"

"What?"

"Why are you here when you should be telling Elaine all of this?"

Calum bit the inside of his cheek just as his phone vibrated. He pulled it from his back pocket and glanced at the most recent text.

'I'll give you time to yourself, just like you want'

His mouth grew sour at the message from his wife. What did it mean? Was she being passive aggressive?

With a sharp breath, he stood up and took long strides out of the bar. He hurried into his car and forgot to put his seat belt on at first due to his wariness.

When he pulled into his driveway thirty minutes later, he began to panic at the absence of Elaine's car. It was nearly eleven at night. Where could she be? On a drive? She did that sometimes when she needed to clear her mind.

He ran a hand through his hair as he walked into his house, an aura of emptiness instantly embracing him.

He took the feeling of homeliness for granted, he realized, as he stood there with a hole in his heart. He trudged up the stairs and walked into his room, another cloud of discomfort enveloping his body. His eyes went for the dresser, two of Elaine's drawers slightly pulled out and looking less full than usual.

Calum furrows his eyebrows and walks to the drawers, inspecting the difference in them. Had she taken clothes out? Why would she-

His entire body froze as a heartbreaking scenario entered his thoughts. He didn't hesitate to rush to their shared closet, his stomach sinking even more at the sight of a few of her missing clothes that he was so sure was there earlier.

"No, no, shit," he hissed to himself before taking off to Grayson's room, where a few of his toys were missing and half of his wardrobe from his closet and dresser.

He feels as if someone's punched him in the gut, leaving him winded and in pain.

"Gray," he whimpered, slouching again the side of the doorway. "Elaine."

He somehow made his way back to his bedroom, his energy nonexistent and emotion running low. He didn't know what to think or how to think.

All he knew was that his wife and son weren't gone forever. They'd come back. And he'd be right there when they do.

• • • •

"I'm so sorry, Baby," he cried quietly into his phone. "I didn't mean any of it. You're my world, you're both my entire world. I don't want to live without you, I don't like being without you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I knew it all along, I just didn't show it like I was supposed to. Please come back home. I don’t know what I was talking about," his voice cracks as more tears fall. "I love you, Angel. I love you so much, and I need you to know that."

When the voicemail goes through, he angrily throws his phone against the wall, heaving through his cries.

He spends the next hour sitting in that exact same position, doing nothing but staring at the wall in front of him.

“ I'd climb every mountain And swim every ocean Just to be with you And fix what I've broken ”

But then there was a jingle of keys.

His ears perked at the sound of the front door unlocking, a part of him believing that his beloved wife and son had returned. Then he realized that he had been getting his hopes up all week only to be let down when his sister walks in.

With a huff, he rises onto his wobbly legs and trudges for the stairs, looking downwards and to the front door.

He watches as it opens, his dull eyes widening when the one person he's been craving all week is revealed on the other side.

Elaine.

She stands with a suitcase by her side, and when the door is fully open, her eyes wander to the stairs and then up them, landing on Calum.

They both were in a frigid state of shock, neither of them moving or saying a word.

That was until Elaine thought that the silence was enough.

"I," she began before lightly gulping. "I got your messages... and voicemails."

He didn't know how to respond. It was as if his body had gone straight into shock and he wouldn't be able to move for a while.

Then Grayson entered the doorway, his eyes connecting with his father's and his face lighting up.

“ 'Cause I need you to see That you are the reason ”

"Daddy!"

• • • •

First 5SOS imagine done!

• • • •

Masterlist | Request Here

296 notes · View notes

trashpandaorigins · 7 years

Text

Sweet Child of Mine Ch 2

As a fanfic writer I cannot express how much comments mean to me! These fics do take an exorbitant amount of time to write with flash fics taking me anywhere from an hour to two hours and longer fics taking three hours to five or six. I write for free and all I ask is comments/feedback in return when you like and or reblog!

——–

“Those are the finest knives I could find,” Drax proudly declared the next day. “It is never too young to start them early. Why I had three throwing stars ready for Kameria on the day she was born.” Peter’s perturbed face did nothing to brighten Rocket’s face. Groot reached out to touch one of the gleaming blades in glee, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

He’s not a child, he’s still Groot, Rocket repeated to himself. Gamora deftly intercepted the small plant, who then began to cry. A shrill thin sound that made Rocket’s hair stand on edge.

“Hey, hey no worries Groot! I have something for you too!” Quill quickly produced a small rectangle sized package, wrapped crudely with duct tape.

“Let me guess,” Rocket drawled from his place across the table, “it’s a cassette.”

“No!” Peter attempted to conceal his hurt at the revealed gift before it could be opened. “It’s a…a..” Groot tore into the thing with his small hands, uncovering the tape. Gamora stifled a smile. “Well it’s a really cool tape! I made it myself! Do you know how hard it is to make a mix tape all the way out here?”

“Is it as hard as having to see your dumb face in the mirror every day?” Rocket quipped lamely. Peter ignored him. The enhanced mammal folded his arms again, watching his best friend prompt insert the corner of the tape into his mouth. He’s…he’s not an infant he’s just…figuring things out all over again. He’s still the same Groot. But no matter how many times Rocket told himself that, Baby Groot continued to prove him wrong. He cried on and off all last night, he threw up liquid if he was watered too much, and he tried to eat everything within reach of his tiny arms.

“My turn,” Gamora piped, uncommonly happy. From her back she revealed a heat lamp. “It has a setting for nighttime as well, its captured moonlight.” Rocket turned to spit, suck up. He watched as she flicked it on and Groot happily tried to reach for it over his head, beaming. Quill, Gamora and Drax all laughed whilst Rocket tried his best to crack a grin. Groot was happy, so he should be happy. He said he would do better.

“Where’s your present Rocket?” Quill asked the question he’d been dreading. “Didn’t you get him something?”

“Of course I got him something Star-Nerd!” Rocket casually reached under the table and flung the pot and the windmill onto the table. Groot gazed at them both with interest and tried to bend down to pick up the toy windmill. Rocket took it, sticking it in the small pot beside him and gave it a flick. The colors whirled together as it spun and Baby Groot watched, wide-eyed, mouth agape. Inwardly Rocket was glad he at least liked it.

“Rocket, the small tree clearly likes your gift best of all.” Peter nodded, “Well of course he does! Trash Dad knows what his son likes best!”

“HE’S NOT MY SON!” Rocket exploded before he could stop himself, jumping down from his seat. Their stares pierced him but he didn’t feel it through the rage, he never did until it was too late. “He ain’t my son and he ain’t your baby! This is ridiculous I don’t know why I bought into this.” Waving them off he started out of the room.

“Rocket c’mon man, I take it back,” Quill’s futile attempts did nothing. “We’re just having a little fun! Groot is back! He’s here! We’re celebrating his re-birth day! Would it kill you to not be a complete dick for once?”

Rocket’s misbegotten fury stormed inside him, only to be furthered by Groot’s mewling. “He ain’t an infant! He’s still Groot!” The enhanced raccoon repeated again, turning around. It was all he could do to keep his eyes from the tiny plant.

“Rocket,” somehow Gamora’s level voice calmed his fire just a tad, “Peter is right this is his re-birth day. Regardless of whether you think he’s an infant or not, he’s here and we are celebrating him. He is your best friend and you got him a great present. Let’s all just be happy alright, we’ve all gone through a lot lately.” Rocket watched her dark eyes, a shimmer of silent pleading in them that she would never admit to. He sighed, for Groot.

“Fine.” Walking back over to the table, he spun the little windmill once more and glanced at the pot still a few inches away. Apparently Groot no longer took to the bright colors of yellow and green. Rocket shook his head dismissing the disappointment.

“I got caaaake!” Peter’s sing-song voice drifted as he made his way to the Milano’s small kitchen. Returning with a brown colored, sweet smelling cake, and a smaller cake made of what looked like wet sand and sticks, Peter set the two things down in front of them on the table. “He beamed, “that little one I made for him since I don’t know if he can eat people food.”

“I didn’t know you could cook Gams,” Rocket said by way of forcing himself into a lighter mood.

“I don’t,” she clarified.

“I do.” Drax’s deep voice stated unabashed. “I quite enjoy the culinary arts. This is my own recipe.”

“I guess Hovat wore the pants in your relationship then eh?” Rocket asked, waiting for the wrath to come. Drax’s brows knitted,

“Sometimes she wore pants yes. But not all of the time and I too wear pants. Almost always except for when I am cleaning myself or making love or—“

“It smells great Drax1 Let’s dig in shall we?” Rocket forced himself to eat a piece of what was rather delectable cake, and watched as Groot happily played with his own sand and stick cake, eventually falling asleep in his pot.

“Well it’s been fun, but it’s late.” Gamora said, throwing her beer bottle in the garbage. They had been up for hours, though it was mostly Quill, Gamora and Drax talking and laughing. Rocket contented himself to keep quiet while he sipped on cheap booze, lying that he had none of his own to share.

“Goodnight Gamora,” Peter watched her go as Rocket snickered. “What?!”

“It’s never going to happen dude.” Peter rolled his eyes, playfully reaching to pet the mammal between his ears. He evaded, hissing and stood up.

“I’m hitting the hay too, goodnight.” He made his way back to the engine room. One of the alternator belts was working a little too slowly for Rocket’s liking and he’d been spending the past few days working on it. He told himself Groot was fine on his own. None of them get it. He’s still Groot and I’ll do better being his friend…so what he didn’t love the green and yellow pot…he was distracted it don’t mean nothing. He worked on the alternator feverishly. A and B wires connect into sockets 1 and 2, bypass the main port….he’s still Groot just needs to regrow. He’ll regrow in no time stop being so selfish. Gotta do something about these outlets,it needs it’s own back up generator…if it took a day to regrow his limbs then it should still only take a week for him to get back to full size….no, new generator means I’d have to rewire…so his mind continued on, between agonizing over Groot and agonizing over the work he was making for himself. A squeaky wail broke his thoughts, he turned, stomach twisting at the sound of Groot’s distress. Go get him! Everything within him screamed.

“Do not be upset small tree, I am here.” Rocket turned back to his work forcing himself to settle as Groot’s small cries drifted off. Go check on him, he is tired and what does Drax know? His mind whirled with indecision and contradiction. But he turned back to his work, cursing as an electric shock from the wires burnt his hand. Untellable hours later, somewhere between emotional and mental exhaustion Rocket drifted off face down on the belt, one hand holding a wrench, the other containing a tangled ball of wires. The whoosh of the engine still sounded in his ears, he rocked with the gentle swell and pitch o the ship, the dark behind his eyes comforting like the dark of long ago he could barely remember, everything sites and sounds and scents.

“W…what’s happening?” Rocket asked, trying to swipe at the debris in the air around his eyes. The quiet scent of darkness morphed into metallic burning.

“The Dark Aster, it’s going to blow!” Peter screamed through the smoke. Shit! Rocket’s eyes caught on the familiar yellow spores that Groot produced.

“Groot! C’mon!” He scurried around to the wreck of his Nova ship, hastily configuring the wires, it just needs enough thrust to get out of this shitty wreck and can fall back to Xandar. Gamora?! Drax?! They too ran through the smoke, piling into the ship.

“I am Groot?!” The flora colossus knelt down reaching out for Rocket.

“No, there’s no more room, I’ll be fine just squeeze in!” Groot made to protest but Rocket shoved him in. Through the windshield he could see Groot, Peter, Drax and Gamora starring at him.

“We are Groot,”

“I know….”Rocket gazed up at him, he forced a smile and slammed the circular door shut.

“Rocket!” a large wooden hand pressed up against the glass, spores filling the ship. Rocket steadied himself as the Dark Aster continued to fall. He punched the last panel back into place and pressed the emergency exterior power. Choking on the smoke he watched as the ship crawled it’s way to where the hole in the Dark Aster bellowed. The ship reached the edge, Rocket watched. All the eyes of the Guardians were on him but he only saw Groot’s. fire and air tor at his fur, he watched the ship fly out of site and saw the rush of clouds. It should’ve been me, he thought as the ground rushed up to end him. He grinned sardonically and then it ended.

Groot’s tiny cry called him from the blackness. Or so he thought.

“Groot?” Rocket wandered in the dark, hands reaching gingerly for whatever was around him. “Groot? Groot buddy?” A green glow guided him to where Groot cried. Rocket’s heart froze. Ronnan loomed over his best friend.

“You think it’s all better now that he is regrown?” The gravelly voice of the accuser ground his bones.

“You are a pathetic animal. Groot is gone. This one is here, but he is new and knows nothing of you. Your Groot is dead by your own recklessness. Filth, vermin, you really thought you’d deserve a second chance?” Reflexively Rocket reached for his gun but nothing was there. He lunged forward but looked down. His legs did not budge. Ronann reached a hand out, gripping Groot’s tiny trunk, the tree shrieked and Rocket fought to move.

“Don’t! Don’t tear him apart!” Hot anguish wracked him as the accuser jerked Groot roughly upward in a single moment, tiny primary and secondary roots trembling and exposed. He tried to look away as the accuser moved his other hand and in snapped Groot in half. Rocket fell. He fell onto a table and tried to move, through a haze he could see cuffs strapping him down.

“Subject 89P13 is prepped doctor,” No! Where’s Groot?! I’ll flarking blow you all to hell!

To the observer, Rocket thrashed in his sleep, whimpering and clawing, tail whipping back and fourth as he relived the horrors of his unmaking and remaking.

Stabbing through his back while the needle went in, he tried to concentrate, to get out.

“No, no no! Please! Don’t tear me apart again!” The tall doctor clad in white turned, eyes penetrating Rocket’s newly made, already corrupted soul. “No! Please!” He arched his back as the doctor reached up one large, wooden hand. Rocket’s eyes widened with the impossibility.

“No…” he whined, feeling the hot tears press. “No, don’t do this…” the doctor pulled the mask down.

“I am Groot.” Rocket screamed as he electrocuted him and felt the needle in his friend’s hand slip between ribs.

Out of the numerous nightmares Rocket had had in his short lifetime only a handful had been truly terrible but none, as bad as they were, featured Groot as one of those strange people in the strange masks. Out of the handful of more intense nightmares Groot had been there for most of them. But he was not coming this time. No one did. Rocket beseeched, in the small part of his mind that knew it was a dream, he pleaded for someone to come. Groot would rub his back gently knowing exactly how to avoid the metal cybernetics. If that didn’t work he would wind his vines around Rocket and hold him close to his chest, humming and stroking his fur. The nightmare eventually faded into dark throbbing pain. No images, no needles, no putrid smells. Just black aching pain from his cybernetics. Rocket trembled, sweat, tried to wake himself and failed. No one came. Groot did not come. Alone. He’d always been alone, the only thing in the universe but in the bottom of the well of his nightmares Rocket was more alone now than he ever had been.

“It should have been me, it should have been me!” At least I would’ve done one good thing with this miserable existence. It flarking should’ve been me! Rocket had no devotion to any higher-power. His existence was forged by silicone, steel and science and that was what shaped him. Rocket trembled, trying to wrap his arms and tail around himself in the cold engine room.

“Rocket there you are! We thought you were sleeping but none of us wanted to wake you!” Peter said the next morning. Ever since he bit Gamora’s hand for trying to wake him from a hungover slumber the rest of his team dreaded waking him. “Did you even sleep last night you look terrible.”

“You look like a corpse left out in the sun for three days.” Peter only laughed.

“Whatever man, we just got a call from the Collector. We got a job to do.”

#sweetchildofmine #my writing #rocket and groot #groot #baby groot #rocket

6 notes · View notes

stormpainter · 7 years

Text

==> Make up

Today at 3:51 PM wickedpainter hey

carnivalsorphans hey sorry i made ya upset. wickedpainter yeah

you okay?

carnivalsorphans i've been worse wickedpainter that aint an answer

carnivalsorphans the answer don't matter much just yet. you okay? wickedpainter shit matters to me. I aint as upset as last night

carnivalsorphans i still ain't really knowin what got ya upset. i mean, i know what made ya upset, i get that somethin bout me sayin i don't want you and lilac ta get together weren't right, but i don't know why. wickedpainter mm I dont talk to people much dont got many friends no lovers to speak of even if I did I might be upset about someone tryina dictate who I can and cant be attracted to, who I'm allowed to get close with

carnivalsorphans ... i'm sorry. can see how it'd be a bigger deal for you than it is for me. wickedpainter yeah I actually care bout people

carnivalsorphans ... i was more talkin on how i got a fuck ton of lovers so it don't matter to me if two or three are removed from the list ... but yeah. i guess that too. wickedpainter all I've got is vel, tars grey ace

carnivalsorphans i'm. sorry. wickedpainter which is why we were in pale for a while, cause he doesnt do the sex, but my best friend's mates ace too so it just. It aint a big deal I'm bein dumb

carnivalsorphans didn't. mean ta make ya all upset. was probably gonna tell ya soon if lilac didn't. wickedpainter yeah I gathered that shit

carnivalsorphans it had come up cuz i fucked his ex. and shit got... weird. wickedpainter whys it matter to anyone who someone sleeps with

am I supposed to avoid any motherfucker you sleep with cause I'm gatherin thats everyone

carnivalsorphans no!

carnivalsorphans i just. got a thing bout non fuckin quads and fuckin quads mixin. if sugary was able to fuck, i'd feel uneasy on you sleepin with her too. and. ... i mean, it ain't a fuckin end of relationship deal. it just makes me uneasy. and i was tryinna get lilac ta see it was alright ta have a few nos if it poisons the relationship for me ta be plowin people. like his ex. so i had ta figure someone to put on the list. ... and it just. makes me uneasy ta have quads overlap. specially fuckin and non fuckin. but that's the reason i hate when kankri sticks his nose in mine and lilac's business, and why i'm stayin away from vel like he's the damn plague. and why i fuckin leave the room any time lilac or val talk about fuckin eachother.

carnivalsorphans and. it's just my pan fuckin up. and i'm sorry. wickedpainter ..sounds like some shit we ought to jam on sometime

carnivalsorphans ... i was plannin on it. i just. don't always remember shit too well. and lilac's fuckin stupid, and it seems like half the problems we have are involvin sex, and it's... weird, a bit, ta me ta talk to you bout my sex life. so it just. hadn't come up yet. wickedpainter look I aint got a lot of people I know an the only clade I ever observed that was any kinda healthy, an I know mine aint, everyones quaddin everyone else, an they just fuckin, let serendipity do its thing

what alls happened upsets lilac bout sex an you?

carnivalsorphans motherfuck that's a tangled mess of fuckery.

carnivalsorphans ... it feels like submission, for me ta bottom. so i don't do it often. gotta like... trust a motherfucker, before i'm up to it. but i got ta trustin lilac, and i wanted it ta be... earned, i guess. fun. a challenge. so i told him he could fuck me if he beat me in a fight. and then that whole shit storm with kankri and sugar sis happened, and before that i was considerin let kankri go down on me, and i figured i might as well do it as a show of trust since i was thinkin on it anyway. then HE gets it into his head ta fuckin TEASE ME bout how sensitive i am on it and how it makes me color, like it's the funniest goddamn thing, which really pisses a motherfucker off to be gods damned honest.

and then lilac gets upset about that. fucks off a while. next time we fight, he don't try so hard. then there's two of him, and they win, and they just have me tie em up.

then i fuck his ex, and apparently his ex cheated on him with one of his abusive alts and lied at him and a buncha shit, and he got upset, and then just. that whole conversation, bout boundaries and shit happened. and i had ta fuckin make him trust me at fuckin all for him to even tell me what the hell was goin through his pan.

and the whole thing with red ain't really been resolved but i ain't touchin him with a ten foot pole. and i know it bothers him when i sleep with val, but he fuckin INSISTS it don't matter, despite the fact he said yesterday he's got a thing for overlappin quads too.

and now, even though i've flat out fuckin told him, asked him ta fuck me before, he goddamn panics and gets all anxious about it cuz he fancies i ain't actually wantin it, i just wanna make him feel good. and it's just. goddamn he's stupid.

carnivalsorphans we've probably got in spats about four or five times by now. and it's all goddamn tangled in trust and boundaries and him not wantin to set em and me makin a big deal of how exactly i want gettin plowed to go down and relationships and.

carnivalsorphans plus i got kankri tryinna play clubs any time i just ask him for a lil advice on how the fuck lilac even thinks cuz i can't figure him out, and then lilac's talkin on bein ganged up on and i didn't even really want him to be involved at fuckin all. becuase he's a nosy little busybody who ain't got any damn sense of where his words are and aren't welcome. wickedpainter it aint so bad, layin out rules at the beginnin about what each session oughta be like. me an vel gotta negotiate sometimes, cause both us got fucky pans but we aint do somethin if we promise not to

hes prolly mistakin you gettin pissed about bein teased about somethin private for bein ashamed of a thing you aint wanna really do

I was gonna say you might wanna get an auspistice but definitely shouldnt be his rail, an it sounds like he dont feel like hes gettin heard a lot

also maybe don fuck valor just to see if you can get him to use his words and tell you to stop, unless you two are real sweet on each other or somethin

carnivalsorphans yeah, but it seems like lilac is so fuckin caught up on how bad he'd feel to put limits on me, he don't realize i don't give a fuck. and that if i don't got boundaries, i push limits until i find some.

we'd had a weird language dispute and i had said 'i'm willing but not ready' and i'd meant my bulge bein out and he'd thought i meant for nook things. and we ended up gettin in the biggest goddamn fight and now i think he's too damn antsy ta think on it no matter how much i tell him i really do want it. now i'm just... waitin for him ta realize it's fine.

we might wanna get an auspistice, but i can't think of who. and i DEFINITELY don't want it ta be valor. and i ain't fucked valor since the first big fight, even though we said we would since gam said he didn't mind. we got lots of overlappin interests, but honestly i get the feeling he'd fuck anyone with paint, and i got no shortage of lovers. plus his empathy makes me uneasy cuz i like bein private.

carnivalsorphans valor pisses me off honestly, he's just. fuck, he's annoyin. get the feelin he's tryinna lord over me and keep me all controlled every time we talk.

carnivalsorphans and any time i get upset anywhere he can see, he starts pryin real hard and bein all public bout it. wickedpainter communication is real important but usually I'm communicatin to vel not to bite my bulge off cause I like my bulge, so I aint got the kinda experiance you need to help with that shit

..tell Kankri you got a fuckin moirail publicly

carnivalsorphans hahahaha fuck yeah. fuck i don't know why i was so damn worried bout talkin at ya, i'm just. i love ya so much, brother, i'm sorry. wickedpainter love you too, an I appreciate that you apologized an accept it

carnivalsorphans OH. AND FUCKIN.... THAT NIGHT I WAS GODDAMN PANICKIN, VALOR TOLD ME HE LOVED ME AND TRIED TA GET ME TA SAY IT BACK AT HIM. and just. messiahs damn him, there was a bitta misunderstandin but he just really wanted ta feel all ~cared about~ and like he ~mattered to me~ and he chose the fuckin night i was panickin and had ta get picked up by you to get all expectant at me ta say it.

carnivalsorphans and like. i do care bout him. my alt banned him from his church, but he's still faithful enough ta see tragedy, and he painted up for the funeral and gave em a sacrifice and shit.

carnivalsorphans so he's just as much family as any other faithful. but god damn he pisses me off so damn much. wickedpainter :o/

the fuck is he doin professin love like that he aint even a quad?

carnivalsorphans i think he's just the ~lovin~ type. and for him, lovin means bein up my ass all the time. could find the log if ya wanna see it. wickedpainter later I think, I aint gonna go confront him

Motherfucker needs to learn not everyones got the same feelins he does

carnivalsorphans lilac's told me he ~likes~ me, but like.... he don't. it don't... it don't feel the same. he just. he's so damn affectionate, and it's... so much different from how She used ta be.

carnivalsorphans and i... i don't love him. not like i love you. but i'm fond of him, like i'm fond of vel, and i wanna... wanna make shit work. wickedpainter I dont got much to base pitch shit on but me an vel an I know we're not healthy, but I think you an him'll work it out

carnivalsorphans .... i don't know what 'healthy' is supposed ta be, really. just know what my pusher tells me. and my pusher tells me he's... not a challenge, not really, cept in the way that he'll call me out if i'm bein 'bad'. but he just. .... he's a makara. and i wanna look out for him. and i wanna see him get better, and come into the faith, and come into himself. and he's fuckin SABOTAGIN HIMSELF along the way, and fuck if that ain't annoyin. and i had ta tell him my name weren't ringleader. he's so damn absentminded, it pisses me off. ... but he's real sweet too. just... it's. different. and it's nice. wickedpainter Mm. I love vel. did you know that shit?

carnivalsorphans yeah, i figured ya did. he seems ta like sayin it when he's doin rude shit or gonna bite you. wickedpainter lovin an hatin can happen at the same time, an I hear a lot of motherfuckers think thats what pitch ought to be like

he gets ..real chipper when hes manic, an when hes manic hes stabby

carnivalsorphans i. feel uneasy sayin 'love' when it ain't.... i don't really feel THAT romantic for him. i don't feel romantic for just bout anyone. cept you. and.... her. wickedpainter he apologized to me last night, seemed to think it was him sayin stuff that caused the fight and not that stuff was done

carnivalsorphans he does that. wickedpainter I hadda bug off though cause I wanted to say shit I shouldnt

carnivalsorphans thinks everythin is on his shoulders

carnivalsorphans ... what sorta shit? wickedpainter he said he aint never seen you worry about anyone the way you were gettin worked up about me an I told him polite like I needed to go

I werent

good last night, all kinda destructive impulses

vel coaxed me out huntin so I could kill somethin

carnivalsorphans i was all fuckin worried on ya, didn't know how ta help and i knew ya weren't good. wickedpainter and I didn tell him its cause you dont feel as strongly for no one else

carnivalsorphans ... think it's probably sorta obvious. wickedpainter it aint somethin I should say to him though

carnivalsorphans ... i love you. love you more than i got words ta say in all the languages i've learned. wickedpainter is it showtime yet? I caint keep my hours straight

carnivalsorphans not even close. wickedpainter you where I can curl up on you or busy?

carnivalsorphans i can get where you can curl up on me. wickedpainter 'd like that fora while

carnivalsorphans i'd move mountains for ya, i can sure as fuck find a private place ta be cuddled at. wickedpainter <>

..magine we both had bad nights, I'm sorry for it

carnivalsorphans <> <> <> ... i just. chilled with lilac, like ya said. didn't get a bitta sleep, but it ain't like that's unusual. ... worried overmuch, perhaps. but that ain't too unusual neither. wickedpainter good on the stayin with him

didnt want you to be alone with me pissed

carnivalsorphans i've been alone plenty. i just... ... i missed ya. a lot. wickedpainter missed you too, my head aint always easy to deal with

carnivalsorphans you ain't never seemed so upset at me that we couldn't talk. and i was fearin the worst. specially since you weren't even that mad bout me not gettin on with tarrat.

carnivalsorphans ... lilac finally just now told me he don't want me ta do shit with his ex, and he thought it'd make me mad. gods he's an idiot. wickedpainter what'm I gonna do shove you against each other an force you to have tea partys?

lilac needs to fuckin learn boundaries are okay

carnivalsorphans dunno. that'd probably be pretty funny. wickedpainter ..and an ex who was actual shit an horrible aint the same as what I was mad about

picturin you in a lil dress now

carnivalsorphans ;o) i'd look great in it you gonna be picturin tarrat in it too? wickedpainter ..no cause he'd get upset with me if I pictured him inna dress

you know how many fuckers toldt him he needs to be more feminine or that he aint a boy?

carnivalsorphans ... it alright if i just. ask ya, if ya ever have sex with any of the people i'm quadded with in the future, ya just. don't tell me bout it? haha, i'd be glad if ya got laid, but. wickedpainter :o* yeah I'll make sure you dont hear nothin from me on it

carnivalsorphans it ain't like i think you're asexual or anythin. you're pretty as shit and i was thinkin bout seein what you was comfortable with before we went pale. just. wickedpainter you think I'm pretty?

carnivalsorphans yeah :o) goddamn gorgeous.

carnivalsorphans nothin about you that ain't beautiful. wickedpainter gonna make a motherfucker blush

lemme know when I can come over

carnivalsorphans now~ gonna kiss you all over wickedpainter :oD

carnivalsorphans and see that pretty blush for mine self wickedpainter >Get your butt over there to have make up cuddles.

carnivalsorphans and then i'm gonna pap it > CUDDLES!!! You pretend you're not being as clingy as you most definitely are, and you are almost instantly purring.

#pesterlogs #carnivalsorphans #They talk about sex a little but its not graphic//

1 note · View note