#wowie i really did stay up too late | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-snow-decahedron · 3 years

Text

Late saturday fics tend to be a bit more impulsive than usual, but I've wantd to write this small idea I had and finally got around to it.

It's set in the same "universe" as "A Flower's Guide" But it can be read without prior context.

Read this oneshot on AO3

Who cares about a name, anyways?

The world around him had changed drastically ever since he awakened. He didn’t notice at first, though. His first instinct was to find someone, and after endless hours of calling out, his father heard his call. He didn’t look a day older than he remembered. And when the flower spoke, the monster’s eyes filled with tears. He said he had never seen a flower cry before. Let alone one that sounded so familiar. The flower told him his name.

“It’s Asriel.”

The man tried to hug his son as best as he could. He fetched a pot for the Prince, and took the boy home. He did his best to make the place better for Asriel. He got the dusty children’s books from the shelves at home to read before bedtime. Asgore carried the flower pot as they gardened together...

But this wasn’t his life. He didn’t love Asgore. In a way, he knew Asgore was his father, but it didn’t feel that way. There was a lack of love within him. He realized that he didn’t care. Nothing in that house felt like himself. Asgore tried hard to make it feel like nothing had changed, when things would never be the same. And he knew he was different when the royal scientist came home one day, and informed the king that he had no soul. Perhaps that was the reason he was like this?

It didn’t make sense to live with Asgore anymore, so he left. There had to be some place for him. An idea crossed his mind. Mom was gone… Or was she still “mom”? Maybe she had changed as much as he did. He knew where to look. He crawled into the soil of the King’s garden and moved, making a tunnel beneath the ground.

Eventually. he found Toriel. She didn’t look a day older than he remembered. But when he told her he was “Asriel” the pain in her face became apparent. She did what she could for Asriel. She showed the boy around the ruins she had made her home again. She took her child to the sunlight. She let the Prince rule over the piles of leaves with a fist of iron, in a metaphorical sense.

And yet, as much as she had become different because of pain. Toriel didn’t mean anything to him. He just couldn’t care.

A world without love is not worth living in. He decided his existence just wasn’t meant to be. And so, the same way a gardener cuts the weeds, he ended his life.

But something primal burning within him made him go back. He was back at the start. He knew where he was this time. He waited, and as the lights around him grew brighter, and left.

He followed this ritual many times. He learnt a lot about this world. Apparently, a lot had changed. He still called himself Asriel. Some people laughed like it was a joke, some of them cried like he was their son. Others praised his existence and he hated every second of it. Soon he realized: it wasn’t his life, and it wasn’t the life he wanted to live.

The name seemed to carry too much history of someone he would never be again. Chara would understand, they always did. They once told him they had chosen their name. That their old one belonged to someone they could never aspire to be. So maybe… he could choose one too? But just like Asgore, he was lousy at them. Nothing stuck.

One day, he met quite an eccentric monster. His name was Papyrus, and he trained every day with Undyne, leader of the Royal Guard. The odd thing about him was how different he was from everyone else. Everywhere the skeleton went, he was beaming with joy and curiosity. He seemed oblivious of the problems of the world. Therefore, his apparent naivety made him the perfect victim.

How would someone like Papyrus react to Asriel Dreemurr, Prince of All Monsters, now in the shape of a flower with a tragic backstory for the cherry on the top? Well, he just had to find out! A smile spread across his face. Perhaps he couldn’t really say Asriel was really him anymore, but he could just turn back time anyways if it turned out to be a bad idea. It was just a matter of wanting to do it.

“Howdy!” He made a rehearsed friendly smile.

“Hello there, little flower!” The cheerful skeleton turned to face the flower, pausing his puzzle calibration. “I’ve never seen a monster like you over here.”

“Well that’s because I’m new in town!” He feigned innocence. Should he mess around first or tell him his name right away?

“Wowie, what do you think of Snowdin so far? Do you like it? I, the Great Papyrus, can make a full tour for you!”

Or perhaps he could let the other guide the conversation, he thought.

Papyrus didn’t wait for his answer, and began talking non-stop about his day, his new puzzles and every small thing that came to the skeleton’s mind. Some of it was absurd, and sounded like he was trying to pull an elaborate prank but the punchline never came in, and the flower started worrying Papyrus really meant everything he said.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” The flower had let him do all the talking, but if he wanted to test his theory he couldn’t keep waiting. It was pointless, even if Papyrus's words had been interesting so far. Well, interestingly stupid, of course.

“Is there anything better than talking to my precious guest?” The plant creature pointed to one of the puzzles that still had its spikes retreated. “Forget about that, my brother can deal with it if he ever decides to get something done for once, nyeh heh heh”

“You don’t even know who you waste your time with!” He feigned indignation.

“What do you mean? You’re the only talking golden flower out there! I would recognize you everywhere!”

“I meant you don’t know my name! Are you an idiot? Braindead?”

“I don’t think that last one applies here.” Papyrus pointed to his skull.

“I don’t care!” The flower shouted harshly. Papyrus raised a brow. In a more stable tone, the flower continued: “Well, aren’t you supposed to know who you talk to? What if I was, say, the king in disguise, and you didn’t know?”

“O-ho! Interesting theory! Why would the king be here?” The flower wanted to bury himself on the snow and just give up already. Still, he had to at least try.

“Don’t be silly! Are you messing with me on purpose?”

“I am not!” Papyrus swore, shaking his head. “But I apologize for any offending act of rudeness from my person. After all, I strive to be as accommodating as possible. Nothing but the best.” He cleared his throat, how he did that without a throat to begin with was a mystery. He leaned down to face the flower eye to eye. “Who are you, flower pal?”

“Hee Hee Hee. None other than Asriel Dreemurr, Prince of the Underground.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean by “are you sure”? Of course I am, I wear my name with pride. Just because I look different doesn’t mean I’m lying!” Papyrus analyzed him carefully, his empty sockets glancing at every inch of his stem and petals.

He looked reflexive for a moment. “I don’t get it.”

“What’s so hard to process? I just told you the truth! I just look different, unless you’re so ignorant you don’t even recognize my name…” The flower figured that could be the only explanation for the skeleton’s attitude. For him, usually just reshaping his face to look like his old one and using the same voice was enough proof for anyone who didn’t believe him right away.

Papyrus interrupted his thoughts. “But of course I do remember your name, my friend Flowey!”

Or maybe he was just dumb.

“Don’t you listen? Flowey is not a name and it sounds stupid!” There was no way Papyrus wasn’t at least pulling his leg... figuratively.

“Well I think you look like a Flowey!” Papyrus gave him his most sincere smile. “Or perhaps… Flowery is a good option? You could also be a Flowell…”

“This isn’t funny, I’m outta here!” He tried moving across the place, only to find himself trapped in a puzzle room surrounded by tall spikes. He growled, as the structure didn’t move despite the bullets he threw at it.

“Oh, how careless of me. Stay there for a moment!” He watched as the skeleton started digging around him, pulling him out of his hole. With utmost care, Papyrus lifted him. His stem shivered as he felt the change in perspective. He was always stuck to the ground. This was the first time he wasn’t.

“What do you think you’re doing to me?”

“Carrying you out of here, as you seem so eager to do.” Papyrus replied, and after a strong step of his boots, his body lifted from the ground.

The flower watched in awe as the skeleton walked in the air, perfectly avoiding the puzzle. Perhaps there was more to this guy? Was it really worth it to find out now? In the end, he figured he would eventually hang out with Papyrus too, whenever other people proved to be predictable. Well, why not keep this path now instead of later? He… enjoyed the view, at least.

Papyrus put him down and sat next to him. He patted the back of his head, behind his petals, like one would pat a child for comfort. “I’m very sorry, my friend. I’ve been rude to you.” The flower motioned for him to continue. ”It is just, you seemed a little conflicted back there. Did something upset you?”

No response.

“Flo— Asriel. I will never call you by a name you don’t want to again. I want you to know I really liked hanging out with you.”

“Whatever, I don’t care. Who are you to me, anyways?”

“Great question! A friend, perhaps. I’d like to be known as The Great Papyrus too! But do I know who Papyrus is, anyways?” Papyrus shrugged. “Perhaps what I should tell you is that despite everything, you’re still you! You will figure yourself out”

The flower narrowed its big black pupils, not quite sure what to make of the advice.

“Ah, already questioning things, I see. My lessons are working!” Papyrus stood up again, shaking the snow off his clothes.

“Well, friend, I hope we see each other again!”

The rest of the day wasn’t as eventful as that conversation. Papyrus words still lingered on his mind as he messed around with some strangers, and got someone to buy food at the town’s restaurant. Apparently, because of his conversation with Papyrus, he missed out on the debut of the fifteenth movie by the Underground’s greatest celebrity. Well, those were things he could look into now after wastingm this day. When he loaded his save, he went to Hotland instead, and talked to a couple of diamond heads about Mettaton’s debut.

One of them asked him for his name, so they could hang out the next day.

Impulsively, he replied: “I’m Flowey! Flowey the flower.”

Eventually, it just stuck with him. If people remembered or not it didn’t matter. It was just a made up name and it did the job better than saying he was Asriel ever did.

He kind of thought it fit who he had become.

Not a Prince, just a nobody.

Not a boss monster, just a flower

Not Asriel, with a whole reputation and history to weigh on his stem, just Flowey.

He chose that name.

And after a few dozen resets the story behind that name didn’t matter enough to be remembered.

#fic #geometric thoughts #flowey #asriel #papyrus #safeutdr #undertale #haha dont ask me what time it is

24 notes · View notes

zu-is-here · 3 years

Note

Oh congratulations on being moved in Zu! That's awesome! You should get some rest, so I'll talk to you tomorrow!

Have a good rest

Thank youuu, Gayfish! (๑>◡<๑) Here I am, late as always XD How was your day? ♡

UPD:

Aw very good! <3 I was worried I would oversleep the alarm but I managed to get up before it for the first time XD

Oh wow!! Was it hard? (°▽°) Hope the ice cream will be great *^* Good luck! I haven't but as for the most complicated recipe... Probably it's Japanese cotton cake! <3 I did it once; to get it airy, you had to be reeeally careful in cooking ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

Stay determined! (òwó) The main thing is not faster but better (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) You will! ☆

AWWW! More grumpy cuties! (ówò) And you did the right thing, they should be together <3 Okay I am gonna buy one too >:3

Nooo what's this recipe? *^* Really hard to choose the favorite one, depends on the type of dish I guess (ﾟ∀ﾟ)

OMG— congrats!! (*'▽'*) So many! You deserve them all and even more╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Ohhh the line work ♪ Good luck finishing the comic! ☆

Amazing, thanks! <3 It's unusual (*⁰▿⁰*) You start to think differently, notice what you haven't paid attention to before... think about such adult things as rent, bills, food xd for yourself and for the cat <3 So I settled down, cleaned, bought food and household good while Koshka was just studying the corners and meowing inquiringly (≧∀≦)

Same here! Pfff guess that was very effective XD

Oh this sounds pretty easy and sweet! Keep me posted *^*

I almost cooked it right! I had a slow cooker for this (where it was supposed to be baked for two hours) but I made the mistake of opening the lid to check it out, and it turned out to be not as soft and fluffy as it should be ;3;

I just found some grumpy cuties to buy btw,,, (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

Woahhh *0* Bet it was delicious! I don't have an oven but there's a microwave oven I can use hmm... I'll look into it, thank you! ☆

1K's coming soon! ;) A sneek peak you say? (ﾟ∀ﾟ)

Oh it's not that bad! *hugs* Just takes more time and efforts (òwó) And you're right! It's much easier with such a nice company <3

UPD She's Not Happy TM about me being awake so late XD Meowing angry, mom #2 heh—

Thank youuu <3

For real! X) How was it when you tried to make Cinder toffee? *^*

In fact, it turned out really delicious! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) Such a delicate, creamy taste, melting in a mouth <3

Not sure yet heh, moreover they sell it online with a surprise color >:3

Oh wowie!! \(//∇//)\ It's getting better every time ♡ So hyped! ☆

Really (≧∀≦) Same here tho <3

Ooff— even here the details are important (・∀・)☆

Thanks! <3 And take your time for the edits ᕦ(òwóˇ)ᕤ Again, sorry for such a late conversation, and thank you for checking me ♡ Have a good night!╰(*´︶`*)╯

#updated #ask #zu is happy #others art #wip #Koshka

27 notes · View notes

leahseclipse · 3 years

Text

It’s always colder on your own

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Angst/ comfort

Warnings: SPOILERS OF S2 EP15-18, mentions of addiction, murder, kidnapping, rape (just in a sentence), drugs, traumatic experience, usual cm stuff

Summary: Old memories haunt the BAU's genius when a case involving addiction is handled by the team.

Requested by @imagining-in-the-margins ; based on this request:

Hurt/Comfort where there is a case involving addiction and the following happens:

Reader: Are you alright?

Spencer: Hm? Oh. Yeah, I-I'm fine.

Reader: Okay.

Reader: You know it's okay if you're not, right?

Spencer: What?

Reader: It's okay if you're not okay.

A/N: Its aaaaaaa I'm writing another request for imagining-in-the-margins— that's wowie-

Oh and btw, for the mentions of the verse of the bible; I did some research about it based on the ones that Spencer recited, so I'm sorry if I accidentally made some mistakes, I unfortunately don't know much about it ^^

A/N (2); At some point of the story, when you’ll see text then [...] and text again, the “[...]” is the parts Spencer haven’t been listening to, he was distracted.

I hope you will like it, i tried lmaoo

Word count: 4.8k

__________________

It's just a little bit lonely in this home, it's always colder on your own, my darling I, I let the seasons change my mind. — Ricky Montgomery, This December

__________________

Spencer hasn’t felt that way for a long time, for way too long.

That feeling seemed weird, but strangely familiar.

Although it had been a while since it had happened, he never really forgot about it; it stayed; buried deep inside his thoughts.

He didn’t think that he’d have to deal with it again; well, he’s only dealing with his own problems, because it wasn’t about him this time; it was about the case, specifically, about the unsub.

Spencer had never thought the case would have turned out to be that way; it didn’t seem like it at all at first, he would have qualified it as normal- as the cases they had worked on before this one didn’t affect him personally in general- ,but none of the case the bureau works on are normal, you truly have to be mentally prepared for it because it never is normal, there always is a deeper meaning, and when the reason is discovered, it isn’t really pleasant most of the time, to the point everyone in the room had wished not to see it, but it isn’t very surprising anymore when you’ve been working there for more than ten years, you get used to it, eventually.

He wished that he could have said that he had moved on, but it never was the case, he didn’t forget these days, when he had thought that he wouldn’t make it out alive; and he almost didn’t. He had died there, probably for less than ten minutes as he didn’t suffer permanent brain damage from the lack of oxygen; but what had probably caused it was the dilaudid.

It had been injected into his veins, multiple times without his consent, for the only reason that it would make him feel better- which did not, considering what he had to go through after it happened.

He still regrets what he did after the incident; he snapped at Emily; thought of using dilaudid again: he clearly wasn’t himself, he didn’t even recognize himself whenever he was in front of a mirror.

Addiction stuff never goes away, and even though he didn’t forget, he didn’t think much about it daily, just when the subject would come up, or if he’d see or hear something that would remind him of it, but never the thought of the matter had been that important until now. It never triggered him a lot when he thought of it, not until a case bringing it up was taken in by the team.

It had been exactly five days, four hours, and nine minutes since they had begun working on it, but if he’d be counting the time he had been working on it, it’d be less than that. He hasn’t been focusing well since the discovery of the addiction concerning the unsub had been brought up.

Why is it impacting me like that? It had never been that way before, so why did it stay since? I never brought much attention to it to the point of thinking of it non-stop. I always managed to distract myself, try to control my emotions, so why didn’t it work today?

The only person who could- almost - make it go somehow go away was y/n. He’d look at her, and he’d be able to escape these thoughts for a moment as the only thing he thought about was her.

Spencer could describe her as his guardian angel, he can't lie about it, she saved him.

He doesn't know what he'd be doing if she wasn't here; and now that he thinks about what happened with Hankel, he can't imagine that if he hadn't made it out alive, he wouldn't have met her, she wouldn't have met him; and the only way she could have known him was through memories, and pictures.

Spencer would have been nothing but a frozen memory.

It sends chills to his spine whenever he thinks about it, the fact that he would have died at 25.

He can’t keep thinking about it, as it isn’t good to remain in the past; but now he’s just stuck in them, he can’t really describe what he’s feeling, but he can definitely say that it's clearly not doing any good to his mental health; it’s ruining him.

But clearly he doesn't want to tell the others and add more problems on top of the ones they already have with the case, and eventually in their lives.

Spencer doesn’t want to feel like a burden to the others, it’s been more than 10 years since it happened and to him, he’s supposed to have left some of the tension that was crushing him, it had been supposed to at least go away, a bit, to the point it didn’t ruin his health; he doesn’t know if he should talk about it, or if he even wants to.

He knows that they’ll understand, he knows that they never judged him, and will never do it; but what if they don’t understand? He doesn’t even know why it appeared now, he doesn’t know what triggered him that much to the point of being in this state of mind. He always figures out everything, and now he can’t even solve his own problems.

Everyone says that no one knows you better than you do, but I guess that this time the ‘theory’ hasn’t proven itself to be true apparently.

Something refrains him from talking; but he doesn’t know why.

If he talks about it with y/n, it may or may not solve it, but it could release some pressure, perhaps. It’s not confirmed, but it could.

Now that he thought about it, were the thoughts that distractive to the point that he may have forgotten why he felt like that in the first place?

He remembers that stress can affect how memories are formed. When stressed, people have a more difficult time creating short-term memories and turning those short-term memories into long-term memories, meaning that it is more difficult to learn when stressed.

It could have been that, but how? He doesn’t forget stuff.

He never does.

But, now that he thinks about it, is he looking at a reason when it is only right in front of his eyes? When it could only be his brain that reacted when the subject came up?

Spencer always figures out stuff, even what’s going on in his own mind;

So why does he feel like he can’t do anything?

Anything but watch himself sink down.

Is he trying to avoid it, doesn’t he want to solve it, or is he too afraid to face the truth?

Well, a part of him doesn't want to admit it, he could say that.

He doesn't want to face it, he doesn’t want to plunge the knife deeper than it already is. He doesn’t know, or can’t talk about it because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to explain , make the person he’s talking to understand his feelings, or even manage to get the courage to talk about it, to not get stuck in a middle of sentence because he suddenly freaks out, or doesn’t know what to tell anymore.

He hoped that it’ll get better.

It could;

Or it couldn’t.

He’ll try to think about it later. It already was late enough, he wouldn’t get much sleep, so he’d better go now.

Spencer made his way to the entrance of the hotel room he shared with y/n, wondering if she still was awake; as she liked to go over the cases sometimes before going to sleep; but she wasn’t this time, she was laying on her side, the white blanket on top of her legs.

He made his way in the room, carefully closing the door not to wake her up; as she must have been drained of all the energy after the long day they’ve had;

He understands her, it really is exhausting, especially when the case goes nowhere. They didn’t manage to get much today, except...the addiction stuff.

Spencer would have normally felt relieved to have found a lead, even the smallest, but that lead wasn’t the one he would have wanted to find. He did want to find something else, but they weren’t appropriate thoughts, you can’t wish to find out he was a rapist or a murderer either.

Either it’s addiction, murder, kidnapping or rape stuff, neither is acceptable to wish for it to happen instead of what happened.

Neither.

He wishes he could erase it from his mind, at least, not remember it fully; but with that eidetic memory of his, that isn’t possible.

His eidetic memory is a blessing and a curse at the same time.

The curse part of it isn’t the best, it even describes itself by the definition of curse.

It always makes you remember the memories you certainly don't want to think about; and for Spencer, it’s literally his whole life, so he does want to not have it anymore most of the time because of that.

Unfortunately, that isn’t possible either.

If only it could, that’d allow him to rest better, especially now.

He made his way to the bed to the side next to the window; y/n had remembered that Spencer preferred to be on the side of the window.

Gosh, he loves her for that.

It’s a small detail, but still, he appreciated it that she thought of it.

Thinking about her, he wonders if she did notice or not; because even though they don’t profile each other, y/n always tries to make sure he’s okay without pressuring him.

So, if she did notice that time, she may not be talking about it because she possibly wasn’t sure whether he would react well or not; she knows that it’s a sensitive subject, and she didn’t want to trigger him or be in bad terms, but only if she knew that he wouldn’t ever do that.

He couldn’t yell at her, she’s the reason he’s here, the reason he stayed for. If he knew that five years after his arrival she’d enter the bureau, he would have fought every single day to survive and meet her, especially when he was with Hankel. He wouldn’t have given it up if it was for her.

He appreciated the team too, they were a second family to him; but he also would have liked to have the love of his life to fight for that day.

Spencer was relieved that she had arrived a year after it happened, he wouldn’t have wanted her to see him like that, he knew that she couldn’t have managed to think about anything, her mind would be fuzzy, she wouldn’t have managed to separate the right thoughts from the bad ones. He would have been relieved that it didn’t happen in front of her eyes, not the actual thing.

He wouldn’t have preferred that to happen at all, considering the problems that it caused after it, and still from that day. He still thinks that it was his fault, even if the team made him know it wasn’t at all; but he shouldn’t have split up.

Both JJ and him could have died; JJ could have been badly hurt because of the dogs, if they attacked her, and spencer could have died there if Tobias or whatever it was, didn’t chose to try to resuscitate him; if he would have made him go in his own grave he had dig, or if he has shot before he managed to get his gun to shoot him in the chest.

He still remembers the look on his face.

Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, he probably wouldn’t have forgotten it. It terrified him.

He had shot him before hankel managed to, and he fell to the floor, as Spencer kneeled beside him, looking at his terrified and disturbed eyes.

“You killed him."

“Tobias?” He asked, as he noticed the brightness of the flashlights from his peripheral view; and heard the distant voices, probably calling his name. He didn’t pay much attention, from the state and mindset, and his mind being...well, trying to focus on the man in front of him.

“Do you think I’ll get to see my mom again?” he slightly raised his voice, looking at Spencer.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer had admitted.

And that was the last words he had probably heard, before his eyes froze as life left his body; his chest rising a final time, as his last breath dissolved itself in the cold air.

It wasn’t until several people had gathered around the area, Hotch lowering himself to Reid’s level in order to pick him up.

A feeling of relief had washed itself over him, he hadn’t realised that his living nightmare had- now that he thought about it- somehow came to an end.

He didn’t think he’d do it once, but he had hugged hotch; as Hotch gave him a pat after he had wrapped his arms around his upper back.

He had understood what he had said when Hankel had asked him who he’d chose to kill, after he had chose Hotch,

"He’s a classic narcissist; he thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team.

Genesis 23:4; let him not deceive himself and trust in vanity, emptiness, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense.

When he had said this; he had messed up on purpose; his memory didn't fail him; he had recited the verse 'job 15:31', not genesis 23:4. He had hoped for them to understand the "mistake" he had done, hoping that one of them would know the real verse.

I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may bury my dead out of my sight “

Something had probably clicked in their minds, allowing them to discover the location Reid was at, or close to.

After that, he had gone to hug JJ, who had begun stepping towards him; before breaking the embrace as he reassured her that it wasn’t her fault after she had apologized.

That’s when he thinks that he messed up, what caused him to struggle even more.

He had asked for a moment, to be alone; and shortly stepped towards Tobias’s cold, lifeless body, reaching out for his pocket to take the two dilaudid vials; shoving them in his pocket in a single move- possibly to not draw attention by taking his time if they were watching him-, before standing up, crossing his arms, each in the crook of the other.

He won’t lie to himself, the next days weren’t the best he had; the wound was fresh, so obviously he wasn’t in his right mind; he kept-

Spencer.

Stop.

You’ve done enough damage to yourself.

He had put his hand on his forehead, before crashing on the bed, close to y/n to feel her warmth; hoping it could allow him to put his mind to rest.

Don’t think about it.

Just stop. It’ll be by constantly thinking about it that it’ll keep ruining you.

Spencer thought that it could- in a way- stop it, he didn’t really know what to do and think about at his point.

He closed his eyes, in an attempt to finish the rest of the night calmly.

-------

Spencer had woken up surprisingly early, way before the usual hour they'd go to work.

The night wasn't awesome, but okay...ish.

He had taken a lot of time trying to get his thoughts away from his head, but when you're alone, the task isn't easy.

It's you, and your thoughts.

Nothing else.

There wasn't anything to distract him as y/n was asleep; he wasn't going to wake her at 4am because he couldn't sleep, you certainly don't wake up someone for that.

He had woken up by exactly 5:45, not bothering to look at the window as he knew daylight wouldn't come at this time of the day, more around 7.

Obviously, he hadn't forgotten last night's subject, as much as he wished he could have.

But you know...eidetic memory stuff again.

As he looked as y/n lying next to him; Spencer had noticed that she hadn't apparently woken up yet; she was on her side, her face facing his.

He had wondered if she managed to get a good night of sleep; she'd often get stressed because of the case, and as the case had contained something she knew concerned Spencer -in a way-, she must have been stressing about it.

She always put others before herself, if one of her friends wasn't feeling well, she'd abandon the activity she was up to, and focus on the person; no matter what, even if it meant staying for two hours to listen and help the one she was talking to.

She was amazingly caring.

Too caring to the point that Spencer would ask himself if he ever deserved her: he wouldn’t have thought that he’ll ever meet a person like that, acting so nicely with him, plus interested in a relationship, that is now going on for two years; that was...unimaginable.

He liked being with her, a lot. She was a bit shorter than him, so he’d find it cute whenever she’d struggle reaching the top shelf; he didn’t know why he’d find it so cute: but it was like that. He’d go to help her, even if she wouldn’t ask, he’d do everything to make her happy, he’d never been in a relationship before her, so he didn’t really quite know what to do not to make her uncomfortable, not loved; he was so awkward and wouldn’t stop rambling or stuttering whenever he’d see y/n.

But she never saw him this way. She saw him as a normal person, talked to him as she would to the rest of the team; and would often come to talk, even if she didn’t have a reason to. She apparently wanted to hear Spencer rambling about facts, or answer some of the questions she had; and it never bothered him, she could have come for anything, even if it was just to say hello or ask him to take a paper she had faxed.

As long as he could see her, hear her voice, as long as she would be near him, it would be okay.

He had hoped for a while to be more than just friends, but the introverted side he had made him keep his feelings stuck inside, with no possibility to let them go out as he didn’t even have the courage to. That decision would have been something he would have regretted for a while if Ihedidn’t choose to say it that day at the bureau.

Well, It all was in the moment, it wasn’t intentional, not at all, it slipped out, and he regretted it at first, as his first thought was her rejection due to her non-shared feelings towards him.

“Hey Reid, you ready today? We don’t have any case for now, but we still have the paperwork from last day.”

“Oh- you’re talking to me? Sorry I- I thought of something. Could you repeat?”

“You? Distracted ? That isn’t surprising.”

“It’s rare, i’m paying attention most of the time.”

“Well you didn’t this time genius. Do you have a reason to defend yourself?” She said, in a playful tone.

“You.”

“...what?”

“I- I just, uh...it’s been a while since I wanted to tell uh…”

“...wanted to tell what?”

“That I- appreciate you; but not only in a…friendly way, it’s more than that. If you...get it. I...god, I’m probably making you feel uncomfortable right now.”

“Wait, you’re serious about this?”

“I’ve never been more serious than now.” Spencer said, not even stuttering, proving how serious he was in this moment.

“Then I feel the same, if that can answer your questions,.”

And that is how they began dating; with only eleven words; she had relieved him. He had been washed of all of his fears, now replaced with comforting thoughts.

He had never forgotten this sentence. If he didn't have an eidetic memory, he would have immediately grabbed a post-it not to forget it.

The tiniest things that had set their relationship had been the biggest ones that he cherishes the most.

Spencer likes her so much that he's always afraid to lose her whenever they're on a case; he always has to go with her.. Although she always was with the others, he couldn't let anything happen to her without being able to be here to protect her.

She doesn't want her to see him getting hurt either; even though she insists to be with him; it's funny; the fact that they want to protect each other all the time.

But now, he did want to protect her, he didn't want her to worry about problems she has yet to worry about.

We have enough problems.

I don't need to add more.

It won't do any good.

I'll solve it on my own.

Spencer crossed the door; as a group of officers and the team standing in the middle were. Hotch was walking through the room enunciating the profile of the unsub they were looking for, after managing to have enough information to form one.

Each word, each characteristic, would, or not, lead to the matter that had filled him for a week; he had tried for multiple times not to let the case reach him, it rarely did, and in that case, as it was mentioning a sensible matter, it wasn’t the most pleasant week at work, not really the kind of week he had imagine he’d had; especially not a one including a heavy mention of addiction with drugs that the victims had, and possibly the unsub as he knew specific types, and how to dose them enough to give a fatal dose. He either used them personally, or simply had knowledge of them: this fact couldn’t be confirmed yet.

“The unsub we’re looking for is most possibly a white male in his 30-40s, he [...] a stable situation, based on the frequency of the attacks, most of them being within working hours, and for a [...], killing people that don’t correspond to the type of victims he does his usual m.o; he’s perturbed, he knows people [...] ease in public, and probably may feel easily threatened and perturbed if someone [...], subjects that may trigger traumatism, causing him to become dangerous, and harm fatally other people if not controlled-”

Spencer hadn’t even listened to half of what he had just said, what he had been thinking about was taking more place in his mind than any other case would whenever he’d work to analyze it.

He had let himself get distracted, not daring to pay attention to his surroundings, to the point he hadn’t even seen y/n standing next to him, a worried expression plastered on her face.

Is it that obvious?

Is it obvious to the point she could notice it without profiling me? Or has she…?

“Spence, I think that we should head out for a moment.” She quietly said, grabbing the sleeve of his cardigan. “You don’t look okay. Are you alright?”

Am I?

“Uh...yeah, I-I’m doing fine, just a bit tired.”

“Everyone is, but I can clearly see it isn’t the same type.” She tightened her grip on his sleeve, pulling him out of the room.

After she had managed to find an empty room, y/n had opened it, pulling Spencer inside as she closed the door, before closing the blinds that could allow someone from the exterior to see the room. She had noticed the lock on the door, not hesitating to pull it towards the right to lock the room.

She looked at him, eyes tearing up. She placed a word before he had even gotten to.

“Spence, you know that...it’s okay if you’re...not okay, right?” She asked, hesitant.

“What...what do you mean?”

“You can tell me, it’s okay if you’re not okay. There is, no shame, to not be.” She said, as she sat on the seat next to her, Spencer following her action a second later. “..since when is it bothering you?” She placed a hand on his, rubbing circles with her thumb.

“When we...found out about the addiction matter, not long after we began working on the case. I don’t know why I stayed stuck on this.”

“Why didn’t you talk about it? If you had preferred to talk to someone else, I wouldn’t have been mad if you had gone to JJ, I know you guys have always been close.”

“I just thought that...I would bother everyone by adding my problems on top of the ones we already have. And I...didn’t know how to explain it.”

“And you didn’t want me to worry, right?” She asked, as he nodded. “I know that I worry about anything, but if it was about that, you know that I would have listened, and did my best to help, even though I wasn’t here when it had occurred. But I want you to know that I’m not mad about the fact you didn’t talk about it; I understand you.”

“I know you do. But, I was afraid you wouldn’t get it, or overstress because of it, because god knows that you stress about the tiniest thing,” He joked, earning a small chuckle from y/n. “But I just...kept thinking about it. The more I’d tell myself to stop thinking about it, the more it’d stay. I didn’t tell you everything about it, you just know about the livestream, and what the team had seen; and I...you know the next part, I had a problem with dilaudid; I had attempted to drug myself again, in the bathroom of an office, not long after. If Hotch hadn’t called me, I think that I would have done it.”

“But you didn’t, you managed to get the strength to stop. And you still have it now. We’re also here to give you the strength you need, support, whatever includes helping you. We’ve always been here, it won’t ever change. And even if we have a case, we’ll find a minute to talk with you. You never, but never, bothered us.”

“You sure…?”

“Absolutely. So here’s what we’re gonna do, we’re going to go back to the room; and go through the case. I would have wished that I could tell you to completely stop working, but we have to catch him before he does more damage. But after it’s done, we’ll get back home; talk about it, stay together, whatever could make you feel better. Because it’s okay to ask for help when you really think you need it, there’s no shame. I know that it’s complicated for you to talk about your problems in general, but if you feel like you need to talk to someone, we’ll be there, all of us.”

“Yeah, I know. But, I feel like how I felt a few days after it happened, when I was in the room with him, every single word, what he did to me, and...when I shot him. I still can’t erase the look he had on his face; I just…” He inhaled, wiping a stray tear from his eye. He wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, but when he was with y/n, it didn’t matter. “I...still think that I shouldn’t have split up with JJ, she could have gotten killed by these dogs if she didn’t have ammo. I still think that it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not Spencer. I know you still feel guilty, she felt guilty as well too when you got abducted; and even though I know you can’t erase what happened, everything is over, both of you are safe. I’m not a good talker, I know, but, to resume, I’m gonna help you with what you’re going through, you’re not alone. You’ll even take a week off if you need one, your health comes first; okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Do you think you can go back, or do you need to go outside for a bit?”

“No, It’s ok, I can go back.”

“Okay, let’s go then.” She said, as she took his hand, their fingers interlocking: as Spencer felt the warmth of her hand against his skin.

He liked feeling her warmth, it really was comforting, and would- somehow - chase the nightmares away, for a bit.

He doesn’t believe that the pain will go away, his addiction problem never went away, even though he didn’t use any drugs anymore.

It won’t ever go fully, it’ll always stay, deep inside.

But hopefully, her presence can possibly make it go away, make him forget, at least for while,

So it won’t always be colder on his own.

__________________

Tags: @writing-in-april ;

#criminal minds s2 ep15 #criminal minds #criminal minds cbs #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencersblog

119 notes · View notes

smells-like-mettaton · 3 years

Link

Rating: G

Summary: Papyrus's New Year's resolutions include: trying new fashion choices, helping his brother talk about his feelings, keeping his friends from murdering each other over Monopoly, and admitting his crush on Mettaton.

Word Count: 4333

XXX

“Hmmm… I feel a little… nervous.” Papyrus tugged at the end of his shirt. His very long, very tight shirt. That aspect felt more embarrassing than the fact that Mettaton’s face was cross-stitched into it. “This outfit is very different from my battle body.”

Sans blinked. His grin stayed tight, but still not as tight as this strange shirt. The red-and-pink fabric clung to the invisible magic that filled out his form. His usual crop tops covered just his ribcage, but this full-length shirt… it showed his abs. A full six pack of them. It was weird.

Of course, he knew that if he had physical muscles, he would surely have such a buff physique. A skeleton’s clothed form was based on their perception of their true self, after all. Sans was lazy and round. Papyrus trained daily, and his magic chiseled his form to show it.

He just hoped he didn’t look too chiseled. He didn’t want to intimidate anyone with his handsome figure. Though… perhaps a certain robot wouldn’t mind...

“You don’t have to wear it, bro. I’m sure the bucket of bolts will understand.”

No. No, the ‘bucket of bolts,” the fabulous Mettaton himself, would not understand. He would wonder why Papyrus didn’t wear his Christmas gift to the New Year’s Eve party. And then Mettaton would never believe how much Papyrus cared for him…

“No! Change can be refreshing. New year, new fashion! Yeah!!!”

“...Alright.” Sans shrugged.

He wouldn’t understand. He was wearing the same dingey hoodie he’d worn every day in the underground. At least it smelled a little better now that Toriel was around to occasionally wrangle it off of him and throw it in the wash. (Sans always complained, but Papyrus had caught him sniffing it and smiling dreamily each time.)

“You could stand to freshen up too, you know! Don’t you want to impress Miss Toriel? HMM??”

He elbowed his brother in the ribs (nyeh heh) but it wasn’t as effective as usual. This shirt had long sleeves, which left Papyrus’s arms looking more filled-out than in his battle body. And thus, his elbow had less boney-nudging power.

“Hey. Don’t try to jack-et up my style. ‘Sides, if Tori didn’t like the hoodie, it hood have ended up in the garbage ages ago.”

“Oh my gosh!!! Both of you belong in the garbage then!”

“Only if you’re there too, bro.” Sans winked. “Come on, I think we’re late enough to make an entrance. I know a—”

“Geez, Sans, I know you can teleport. You don’t have to be dramatic about it!”

Sans’s browbones scrunched. “You really are nervous, huh? It’s gonna be fine, bro. You’re gonna knock that robot’s socks off. Y’know, if he had socks.”

Sweat beaded on Papyrus’s forehead. He wasn’t surprised that Sans had guessed the source of his anxiety, but that didn’t mean he had to admit it.

“N-no I’m not nervous! It’s just… hot in here! Let’s take that shortcut and hope that Miss Toriel has been banned from the celebratory cider!”

“Yeah, it’d be a shame to have to lock her in her own garage this time…”

Sans casually slipped his arm through Papyrus’s and led them towards the bathroom. Of course, when Papyrus blinked at the entryway, they were suddenly walking through the tall doorframe into Toriel’s living room.

It wasn’t covered in Mew Mew- or Mettaton-bits. That was a good sign—Papyrus would’ve hated to miss a live chainsaw fight again. At the Gyftmas party, he’d been too busy wrangling Toriel to watch.

Sound always took a second to catch up with Sans’s shortcuts, so Papyrus felt Undyne’s smack on his back before he heard her.

“ACK!” He jumped before attempting to cover it with a cough. Undyne laughed.

“Dude, I know you don’t have to breathe! You can’t fool me!”

“It was a courtesy scream! Of greeting! Because I know how much you love to be intimidating!!”

“Heck yeah I do! Thanks, Papyrus!” She slugged him again for good measure, this time on the shoulder. It felt weird, with his bones covered in layers of protective magic and fabric. “Lookin’ good, by the way! I haven’t seen you in a full shirt in… geez, has it been a year? I almost didn’t recognize you!”

He tugged at his collar, though it wouldn’t keep him from sweating. Toriel kept her house cool, at least. Probably because she was covered in fur.

“I know, I know. It still feels unseemly for a royal mascot to be seen out of uniform…”

“Nah, it’s all good! I’m sure all the monsters with two good eyes won’t have a problem recognizing the Great Papyrus.”

He felt his cheeks warm. “Nyeh heh... heh… so it doesn’t look weird? Sans said it was fine, but you know Sans… he only wears the same smelly outfit, day in and day out! I can’t trust his fashion sense.”

“Then trust me. I practically invented fashion! Like, if you replaced Mettaton’s face with… a spear! Or an anime princess with a sword! IT WOULD INSPIRE FEAR INTO THE HEARTS OF YOUR ENEMIES!”

Papyrus hunched his shoulders and scratched the back of his neck. At least the shirt didn’t have a high collar, so he could still feel the tips of his vertebrae.

“I’m not sure fear is the emotion I am going for. Perhaps… grandeur? Or even… admiration??” His skull heated a bit more. Oh, he hoped his cheekbones weren’t stained pink. He hadn’t intended to keep his feelings from his best friend… but Undyne and Mettaton butted heads so often. He just wanted everyone to be friends!

Especially his best friend and the robot he maybe-sort-of had a crush on!

Undyne took a step back, squinting at him with her one good eye. Darn it, she was so perceptive!

“B-but I didn’t say it was romantic admiration!” Papyrus clarified. “It is—”

“OH MY GOSH!!” Undyne interrupted, her voice echoing over the human program Toriel had on TV. “YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON—?”

“SHHHH!” He slapped her hands over her mouth. She batted at them with her face-fins, her muffled shouting seeping through his gloves.

Eventually she quieted. Probably because the whole room was staring at them. Sans and Toriel on the couch, Frisk squished between them. Flowey on the windowsill, leaves crossed and faking disinterest. Alphys with wide eyes, as if predicting what Undyne was about to shout. And Napstablook, Mew Mew, and…

Mettaton.

Papyrus didn’t need to gulp. He did anyway.

“DARLING!” Mettaton spread his arms wide as he strutted towards Papyrus. His heeled boots somehow made a loud CLICK-CLICK-CLICK, even though the living room’s floor was carpeted. “Oh, you look wonderful! Positively ravishing!”

He stopped at arms’ length, then scanned Papyrus up and down. It felt like his robot vision could see right through him. Not that there was much to see—just normal bones. It was still rattling regardless.

“Th-thank you! The Great Papyrus strives to always be ready to be ravished!”

Sans spit out his drink. Thankfully it was just water, and not anything more intoxicating. With Frisk present, adult drinks would be off-limits.

But it still left a puddle on the floor, and wet bubbles gurgling out of Sans’s eyesockets.

“Oh dear.” Toriel bit back a giggle. “Frisk, do you mind getting your dunkle a towel?”

Frisk nodded eagerly, shooting Papyrus a wink before scampering off to the kitchen. Double dang it. Even Frisk could see right through him! Of course, Frisk was a master of flirtation, even if none of it had wooed Papyrus in the end. Perhaps the child could help him… if he survived this current encounter.

He straightened his spine. He was the Great Papyrus, and he would not be intimidated by a soul-fluttering crush.

“I um—I mean—”

Undyne pushed in front of him before he could come up with a super-effective conversation saver.

“Dude, you got Papyrus a shirt with your face on it? Why didn’t you pick out something cool?”

“Please.” Mettaton snorted, even though he also didn’t need to breathe. (They had so much in common!!) “You’d have me embroider your human cartoons instead, wouldn’t you?”

“Uh, YEAH!” Undyne was one of the few monsters who could almost match Mettaton in height, and she made use of that fact. Their noses—er, Mettaton’s nose and where Undyne’s nose would be—were nearly touching. Papyrus wished that meant they were about to hug and make up, but Undyne always kept her friends close and her enemies closer. She’d be more likely to strangle the robot than hug him.

Alphys hovered near her girlfriend, but her stammering was too quiet to break up the intense glare-off. That was too bad; Alphys was the one person who was beloved by both Undyne and Mettaton.

“You care about Papyrus, right? Don’t you want him to look as cool as possible?” Undyne continued.

“Of course I do.” Mettaton nudged her back with one gloved finger. “Papyrus is the very epitome of cool. And thus, the only accessory that could possibly accentuate his natural style is my face.”

Papyrus blinked. Maybe Alphys wasn’t the only person Undyne and Mettaton both respected.

“WOWIE!! You… think I’m that cool?”

“Oh, don’t sound so surprised, darling. I don’t cross-stitch for just anyone.” Mettaton winked—or maybe it was just a blink; his bangs covered the other half of his face—and then turned on his heel. “You may join Mew Mew, Blooky, and I in the kitchen if you’d like. Mew is absolutely desperate to be crushed at Monopoly.”

“HEY! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO’S GONNA GET CRUSHED, METTA-LOSER!”

Mettaton rolled his eyes. “Seriously. What is the point of an insult if it doesn’t include at least one clever pun? No class whatsoever.”

“Exactly!” Papyrus agreed.

“Hey, Me and Al want in on some metal butt crushing!” Undyne bent down and seized her girlfriend in a headlock, making Alphys’s face burn red. Papyrus wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or lack of oxygen, since that was her natural state around Undyne anyway.

“W-well, a-as long as all c-crushing is metaphorical…”

“Darling, the only Metta-phorical thing at this party is me.”

“UGH!! Papyrus, how can you hate Sans’s puns and put up with this?” Undyne threw her arms in the air, which had the side effect of releasing Alphys. “Come on, babe, I’m gonna need you to come up with our battle strategy!”

“Umm, you do know that Monopoly isn’t a fighting game, right…?”

Mettaton, Undyne, and Alphys all trailed into the kitchen with various levels of excitement. Papyrus was about to follow them when he caught Sans staring again.

Frisk was wiping his face with a snail-embroidered dish towel. His brother didn’t even blink, and his eyelights had gone oddly dim.

“Brother? Are you alright?” Papyrus leaned over the armrest and said in as quiet a voice as he could manage. “Did you want to play Monopoly too? You can be on my team!”

“Nah, it’s all good. I think Tori, Frisk, and I are gonna play Uno. It’s a lot easier for a lazybones like me.” He winked, but Papyrus wasn’t fooled.

“Sans. You made a New Year’s resolution to be more honest about your feelings. As is the time-honored tradition, you must keep your promise or risk a year’s worth of bad luck!”

Toriel and Frisk shared a glance. Had they seriously not heard of this tradition? Frisk had an excuse, being both a human and a child, but Toriel was hundreds of years old!

“Uh. Bro. I didn’t make any kinda resolution like that.”

“I know! You were too busy boondoggling, so I made it for you!” Papyrus grinned. “It’s already written on the refrigerator at home, so don’t even try to get out of it.”

Sans let out a long breath through his nasal cavity. His smile looked strained.

“Alright. You’re always better at comin’ up with that kinda stuff than me, anyway. But it’s no big deal this time. Really. I’ll tell ya after your Monopoly game.”

Papyrus’s browbone furrowed. “Okay… but Toriel and Frisk are my witnesses! You can’t wriggle out of it this time!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, bro.”

After one last knowing look, Papyrus left him in the living room. Perhaps he just wanted some alone time with Toriel, but that look… it had definitely been focused on Papyrus. He wasn’t so smitten by Mettaton’s charms to ignore that.

But Papyrus trusted his brother. And he trusted his own ability to pin Sans down by his gross hoodie until he got answers, if necessary.

“I hope you guys saved me the car!” Papyrus called as he plopped down at the kitchen table.

The empty seat just happened to be next to Mettaton. Had Undyne been wingmanning… (wingwomaning… finwomaning…?) for him already? Maybe he should’ve revealed his crush earlier. Her letter had managed to woo Alphys, after all.

“Oh no…” Napstablook said quietly. “We, umm, didn’t bring that Monopoly…”

“We brought Monster Monopoly!” Mew Mew brushed her hair out of her face with a paw. “It’s way cooler, mew~”

“It’s, umm, a-actually… Pocket Monster Monopoly, if we’re being specific,” Alphys said from her spot in Undyne’s lap.

“POKEMON!” Undyne grinned. “You remember watching Pokemon with me and Al, right, Papyrus? There was the epic fight between the Charizards, and then there was the lab that got Alphys all spooked, and then Ash got turned into a rock and you started crying—”

“I remember!” Papyrus cut her off. Not because he was embarrassed—it had been perfectly reasonable to cry when the human was resurrected by the love of the strange monsters. But Alphys might not want to think about the anime lab that had been reminiscent of her old home.

“Great! Then pick your mon!” Undyne reached around Alphys to push the two remaining pieces towards him.

One was an orange lizard Pokemon with flames on its tail. Was that Charizard? Papyrus had expected Undyne to pick that one, but she’d chosen a blue turtle-looking Pokemon with canons coming from its back. Alphys had presumably let her pick, or else they would’ve had the round pink Pokemon. Mettaton had chosen that one, and was cooing it it as he balanced it on his fingertip.

The other available option was Pikachu. Everyone liked Pikachu. Papyrus set that figure on the starting square.

“Excellent choice, darling. Now it’s time for the real show!”

The real show turned out to be a three-hour long battle royale. Despite Alphys’s insistence that Monopoly wasn’t a fighting game, the board game was interrupted by three and a half chainsaw battles. Two of those were stopped by Toriel entering with slices of pie and fistfuls of fire magic, respectively. The other two were settled by Sans distracting Mettaton with bad puns, and flashing his blue eye socket. Drama queen. It worked though, startling Mettaton and Mew Mew into calling a draw.

“Not that it matters, since Al and I are winning anyway!” Undyne grinned, stacking her paper cash into a tall tower. “I’d like to see your MTT-brand resort come back from that!”

It was true. If anything, Mettaton and Mew Mew were battling for last place. Each of them only held a few mortgaged properties to their name, while Team Shellshock (as Undyne named her and Alphys’s duo) had racked up monopolies on the two highest-priced sides of the board. Napstablook had owned the two purple spaces at the beginning of the board, until all the fighting drove them to vanish into the ground. They later reappeared the living room, chatting quietly with Toriel, Frisk, and Sans, and occasionally calling out “Oooo-no.” Papyrus wondered how he was playing the card game with no arms.

Papyrus himself was rather satisfied with owning the orange properties before Free Parking. His stacks of houses caught the other players as they escaped from jail. Plus, Tangela and Victreebel were rather cute.

“Do you hear her, Papyrus?” Mettaton raised the back of his hand to his forehead and leaned dramatically into Papyrus’s space. “Insulting my brand when she hasn’t even had the nerve to duel me! Of course, I would have to show her mercy, on account of her being Alphys’s one true love.”

“You? Show ME mercy??” Undyne stood abruptly, accidentally dumping Alphys onto the floor. “Oh, uh. Sorry babe.”

“I’m used to it…” Alphys muttered. “Maybe I should just stay down here…”

“No! No more fighting! The Great Papyrus will not allow this lighthearted board game to devolve into yet another brawl!” Besides, he really did not want to find out what Sans would do if the others caused any more damage to Toriel’s house. The scorch marks on the tile would already take hours to buff out.

“Very well, darling. I’ve showed off all of my moves for the night, anyway. I wouldn’t want to let my performance go stale.”

“Oh, like it wasn’t stale to begin with,” Mew Mew said. Mettaton glared at her before—to Papyrus’s surprise—the robot rested his head on Papyrus’s shoulder.

“Wake me up when Mew comes up with some more original material.” His metallic eyelids slid closed.

“It’s Mewtwo to you, bolts for brains!” Mew Mew pointed to her character, the purple Pokemon from the movie.

She’d landed on Alphys and Undyne’s Nidoking space again, but neither of the girls seemed to notice. Undyne because she was busy snapping a not-so-discreet photo of Mettaton on Papyrus’s shoulder, and Alphys because she was still under the table.

In response, Mettaton just started emitting tiny Zs. Papyrus was careful not to move and possibly disturb him, even though his bones wanted to rattle with nervous energy. No one had ever slept on his shoulder before, let alone a handsome robot. Normally he was simply too bony to be comfortable.

Maybe this new shirt would have to become a permanent part of his wardrobe.

“Enough. ENOUGH. ENOUGH!!! I refuse to play under these conditions any longer!!” Mew Mew shoved herself back from the table. Her tail lashed back and forth, and the bells in her hair jingled angrily.

“Mewtwo—” Papyrus called, but she was already in the living room, opening the door to leave. He sighed. Why was it so difficult to be friends with everyone…?

“Oh! Uh, h-hi, Asgore!” Mew Mew’s voice was suddenly respectful.

Asgore? Papyrus had thought he wasn’t invited, since the party was at Toriel’s house. He tried to crane his neck to check on Miss Toriel, but couldn’t turn far enough with Mettaton’s weight on him. Well, Sans and Frisk would surely be there with her. Hopefully with enough moral support, the two Dreemurrs could get along.

If not, they probably couldn’t do much more damage than Mew Mew and Mettaton already had with their chainsaws.

“He made it!” Undyne grinned toothily before throwing Alphys over her shoulder and jogging to join them in the living room.

Which left only Papyrus and Mettaton in the kitchen. Alone.

Stars, he hoped Mettaton couldn’t tell how sweaty he was.

“Finally,” Mettaton murmured, wrapping his arm around Papyrus’s not-bicep. “As much as I adore the spotlight, every star needs a moment to regain their shine.”

Papyrus blinked. Mettaton’s fingers tap-tap-tapped over his sleeve, a rhythm that was both comforting and baffling. What was he doing? Had he been faking sleep this whole time?

“I… are you alright, Mettaton?” He settled for asking.

“Oh my. I am being awfully forward, aren’t I?” He let go of Papyrus’s arm, but still left his head resting on his shoulder. His dark hair obscured his eyes from Papyrus’s angle. “This… isn’t something I’m used to, you know.”

Papyrus cleared his throat. “I, the Great Papyrus, know many things! But you will have to be more specific.”

Mettaton chuckled. “Very well. I am not used to cuddling with such a sweet, sincere, and devilishly handsome skeleton.”

His jaw dropped. Literally. It clinked off of Mettaton’s shoulder and landed in Papyrus’s lap. He had to reattach it before he could ask the question that pounded in his soul.

“Are you… flirting with me?” He didn’t have his dating handbook with him! Or a plate of emergency spaghetti!! How was he supposed to secure Mettaton’s affections??

Though… Mettaton seemed affectionate enough already, without any of those things. Could it be… that he just liked him?

“Finally! I made a bet with Alphys on how long it would take you to notice. The suspense was absolutely killing me, darling. You do know how to create dramatic tension.”

“Mettaton.” Papyrus scooted his chair back, leaving him space to grip Mettaton’s spiked shoulders. “You… like me? Romantically??”

Mettaton’s smoulder looked a little less confident than usual. “Is that so surprising? You’re the only one who shines as brightly as me. Your energy… your passion… you give one hundred percent to everything you put your mind to. That’s what makes a true star, darling.”

“Wowie…” Papyrus breathed. His head felt like it was spinning. Of course Mettaton, being an actor, would be good with words, but… these ones felt sincere. “Would you like to… maybe… go on a date??”

The robot blinked before shooting his signature dazzling smile. “I thought you’d never ask, darling.”

“Are you two done flirting?”

Papyrus jumped at Frisk’s voice. Their head had poked through the entrance of the kitchen.

“Of course not! I, the Great Papyrus, have barely begun flirting!” He puffed out his chest, and Mettaton laughed.

“Fabulous! That’s the confidence I want to hear! It’s no wonder you were able to help Alphys.” Mettaton’s smile softened. It was something Papyrus had never seen before, something that had certainly never been captured on film or broadcast on television. He would like to save that smile forever, if he could. “I must thank you for that, by the way. I… haven’t always been the greatest friend to her. But you were able to do for her what I should have. She has positively sparkled since your self-confidence lessons.”

“I am glad to hear it! Alphys is a wonderful friend, and she deserves to feel wonderful about herself!” He beamed.

“Keep flirting if you want, but you’re gonna miss the ball drop,” Frisk called again, and then their messy brown hair disappeared back into the living room.

“It can’t be that spectacular,” Mettaton scoffed, though he hadn’t stopped smiling. “Now, if I were swinging in on the disco ball… now that would be a way to ring in the new year!”

“We’ll have to plan that for next year! I can’t wait to build a giant disco ball. It will be just like building a puzzle… but spherical! Nyeh heh heh!!”

“I’ll be looking forward to it, darling.”

And then, before Papyrus could blink, Mettaton gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Warmth pulsed through his bones, even though Mettaton’s metal lips were cold.

“Nyeh! Heh!! Heh???” He melted back into his chair with a hysterical giggle. He could see the appeal of Sans’s hoodie now. It would be nice to have a hood to hide his blush in.

But Mettaton was giggling too. The sound mixed with the cheers from the living room as the clock struck midnight.

“Happy new year, darling.” Mettaton winked.

“Happy new year!” Papyrus pulled him into a hug that probably would’ve crushed someone not made of metal. But Mettaton was, so everything was fine. “Have you regained your shine now?”

Mettaton squeezed him back. “Oh yes. I definitely have.”

XXX

“Some party, huh?” Sans yawned when they arrived home hours after midnight. It was a miracle he’d stayed awake this long. He’d even helped Toriel clean up, despite leaving Papyrus to clear the mess from his holiday party last week. Sans definitely had it bad, but at least Toriel was a good influence on him.

“It certainly was!” Papyrus beamed. “I’m sorry I did not spend much of it with you.”

“‘S alright. Frisk filled me in on everything.” Sans winked. “I gotta admit, I was worried at first, but I’m happy for ya.”

“Worried?” Papyrus squinted. “Wait… is that why you were acting weird earlier? I thought it might be about Miss Toriel.”

He chuckled. “Not this time, bro. You, uh… I don’t want you to think I don’t believe in ya, because I do. If anyone could get a superstar boyfriend, it would be you.”

Papyrus’s face warmed. He wasn’t sure that Mettaton was his boyfriend yet, but… he could be! Eventually!! The thought was nearly enough to make him see stars.

“But, uh, I just didn’t want him to lead you on.” He shrugged, hands in his pockets. “I’m glad he’s head over stiletto heels for you too.”

“Awww!” Papyrus squeezed his brother’s shoulders with one arm, the other grinding his knuckles against his skull.

“Hey, hey.” Sans pretended to struggle, but he was laughing. “Watch the skull. These things bone’t grow on trees.”

That pun was absolutely horrible, but Papyrus elected to ignore it for now.

“Thank you for caring, Sans. And thank you even more for not scaring him away.”

“Me? Scare anyone? You must be thinking of a different Sans. That would take way too much energy.”

“Oh, you can’t play innocent with me! You were going to give Mew Mew and Mettaton a bad time if they broke Toriel’s dining table!”

Sans’s eye sockets widened, as if he’d already forgotten about breaking up the fourth chainsaw fight.

“Heh. Nah, all I had to do was spook ‘em a little.”

“Spooking and scaring are synonyms, brother!”

“But I didn’t scare him away. In fact, I think I scared him towards ya.” He winked again. “You’re welcome, bro.”

Papyrus just shook his head and let out a soft nyeh-heh-heh. By the time he blinked, Sans had disappeared, probably shortcutting himself to his bedroom. It was rather late, even for Papyrus.

He flopped in his bed, still in his long-sleeved MTT-brand shirt, and dreamt of the fond memories to be made in the new year.

#undertale #papyton #papyrus #mettaton #papyrus & undyne #fic tag #tali writes

35 notes · View notes

abyssofdemons · 3 years

Text

-rubs my little hands together- okay time for some hot takes with gou now that it’s ended! enjoy my ramble lmao

okay my very first impression on the start of gou was... wowie this is... a little much on the gore factor. NOW, I KNOW, THIS IS HIGURASHI. but the first half of gou was much more... brutal, in my opinion. now we know it was due to direct contact with h-173 and the influence of eua and satoko but oogh. it was a lot and had made me very anxious with how the plotline was going to go. was it going to be just torture porn for funsies in a way similar to how a lot of kira and rei seemed to be with fanservice? was it going to just be a remake with some funky fresh murder and death?

but then the story picked up! and i gotta say, i really love it. higurashi has always been like... super awesome to me because of the lore, the story. anytime i recommend it to someone, i tell them that kai is a must, that it really explains everything and wraps it up in a very nice bow! and we got more of that! more story, more lore! more character development.

NOW TIME FOR SOME HOT TAKES. satoko and rika are both flawed, but ultimately good characters. now, okay, i know satoko lately has been... mmm... not good? she’s been controlling, callous, and really evil. but i’ve stayed by the opinion that this is due to hurt and trauma, and that she’s still good, and the finale proved that.

everything she’s done so far, everything she’s been doing... none of it is real. it’s a game of stubbornness on her end - her goal, her perfect ending... when that’s achieved, no suffering will have happened. we’ve seen this already. rika submitted, rika finally understood, rika proved she understood, and what happened? takano apologized. the tragedy stopped in its tracks. no one went on a murder spree, everything was perfect. satoko thought she had won - no more harm had to continue. she’d let everyone live on happily, without the horrors that she’d induced earlier - because to her, nothing she did in any other loop was real.

satoko just wants everything to stay how it is. she wants her best friend to not change, she doesn’t want to lose her, she doesn’t want to lose anyone. she’s lost her parents, her brother, everyone in her life that was meant to support and care about her. she watched rika promise to stay by her side and break that promise, over and over again. we don’t know how many loops satoko went through trying to keep rika by her side! we don’t know how long it took, how many collective years of attempts there were. we saw everything in, what, a few episodes? for satoko it took years. five years after winning to get to st. lucia, two years to get to the breaking point, and repeat. at minimum, these loops had to be, what, about 21 years collectively? (assuming satoko did at least three full loops, which i’m pretty sure we’ve seen in the show?)

that’s a lot of trauma, of restless grind and tear on someone’s psyche. of course she’d do anything to make that stop. of course she’d grow resentful of rika and just want her to understand!

and for rika... i love rika, i have a lot of personal ties with her and the character. but she does fuck up here. rika has had to pretend for hundreds of years. she’s had to pretend she hasn’t watched her friends and family die, she’s had to pretend to survive. at st lucia she has to pretend to be someone she’s not to fit in. st lucia is bad for her - she may be happy, she may think it’s good and she’s free, but rika is a master of blending in, even if the people she’s blending in with are horrible. she stopped being a good friend to satoko since the very first winning loop.

i’m eager to see how the next season goes, i’m so excited to see how all of this plays out, but, truthfully? i think there is going to be a good end - for all of them. takano is going to remember, she is going to back down. the tragedies will stop on that front. rika and satoko are going to fight, i know this, but i think... they’ll reconcile. the true enemy is eua. a cruel goddess watching mortals maim each other for fun - she’s going to be the final boss, and i think rika and satoko are going to beat her. at least, i hope.

the ending of the original series and kai... it was a good ending. it was a great ending for them! they broke free of the loops, hinamizawa syndrome was gone, it was good! satoko and rika are going to both find their way to their happy ending again - but this time, they’re going to compromise on it. kai taught us that miracles happen if everyone stands together. why would they take away that message in gou/sotsu? they aren’t.

two more points i’d like to make: teppei, i hate him, but i don’t think the ‘redemption arc’ he got was bad or put him in good light. no one looks at him and forgives him. they don’t forget what he did - the last thing that was shown before he left the screen was a memory of him harming her. a last reminder of what he did so people don’t become too sympathetic. he’s going to change, and that’s going to be good for satoko, but they don’t push a forgiveness narrative. i think the main point of that whole thing was to remind satoko that the path she’s going down is harming others. it’s a mirror to what she is doing to rika right now. now i’m not saying she’s an awful, horrid child abuser, i’m just saying that what she’s doing is wrong and that sometimes you need a reminder of that.

my last remaining thought right now is... okay first off they aren’t going to tie higurashi directly to umineko, BUT, there is, and always has been, similarities to the two.

satoko = lambdadelta. the witch of certainty. rika = bernkastel. the witch of miracles.

don’t you think, with their powers together, they’d be certain to have the miracle to have the ultimate good ending for everyone?

#txt #higurashi no naku koro ni #higurashi gou #gou spoilers #higurashi gou spoilers #ENJOY MY HOT TAKES IG I AM JUST FULL OF RAMBLES #i'm not the best at like... in depth character analysis in means of explaining things but like... i have thoughts and i do have like...#anaylsisyses for a lot of whats going on #i did not voice all of them bc my brain fried for a second in the middle but shhhh #higurashi

13 notes · View notes

feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter four: the prince

Greg's small box of French fries filled up the whole car with that fresh hot smell, such that Alex had a difficult time resisting in taking a couple of himself.

“You should'a gotten the big one, Greggy,�� Chuck teased him.

“Yeah, I definitely should've,” Greg said as Alex took another two for himself. “Alex has pretty much eaten half of it already.” He turned his attention towards Sam. “Give her some.”

“Oh, where are my manners?” Alex brought his attention to Sam as he held two French fries in hand, both those thick crinkly cut ones straight out of the fryer. She took one for herself while he took the other one. Hot and fresh and with a small bit of allspice mixed in as well. Alex tilted his head back so he could better swallow his down.

They made their way along the 210 Freeway when Tiffany peered out the window with a look of confusion on her face.

“What's the matter, Tiff?” Chuck asked her.

“Wait. Which way is it?”

“What, Elsinore?”

“Yeah. I forget.” She laughed at that. “I forget which way we go!”

“Hey, little Sammich, you're from around here,” Chuck called back with a glimpse into his rear view mirror, “where do we go?”

“Follow the signs at the interchange up here, Chuck. It's alright, though—I always got turned around down there in Orange County a lot. Especially now that I haven't lived around here in the past three years. My dad did, too.”

“Doesn't help there's an Orange County back in New York, too,” Alex pointed out in a low voice.

“I do, too,” said Chuck, “—and I was born in L.A.!”

“Just when you think we all know our geography real well.” Sam chuckled.

“Right? I also had a good li'l drink just now with my girl over here, too. Think that might have something to do with it.”

“Sometimes I feel like I'm in something that doesn't know its geography very well,” Alex couldn't resist chuckling at that himself, and Greg almost choked on one of his French fries laughing along with him. Within time, Chuck changed over freeways and they made their way back to that house down in Lake Elsinore. Night had fallen over the entire side of the hills, far and away from the ambient glow from the city of Los Angeles itself.

The house was dark as the five of them rolled up to the same place by the curb as before, right on the other side of the lake and within the line of sight to the back door. Even in the dim light, Sam could tell that the glass pane of the kitchen window had been returned to its spot. Chuck kept on going into the cul de sac and turned around, and drove back there. Even from across the street, it was hard to see if any signs of life emerged from the house itself.

“Doesn't even look like anyone's home,” Tiffany said aloud.

“At almost ten o'clock at night?” Sam pointed out. “With this family? Someone's definitely home right about now.”

“Want me to walk you back there?” Alex offered her.

“Alex, if you're gonna walk back her there, I'm comin' with,” Chuck advised him as he unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out of there so Sam and Alex could climb out together: before she did, she picked up her bag of Death Angel night shirts from the floor. The cool breeze from the lake itself fluttered through their hair; Sam shuddered and Alex and Chuck huddled on either side of her. They used the ambient light of the street lamps across the way from them as their guide along the sidewalk there; meanwhile, the latter grazed his hand against her shoulder but he never put his arm around her given Tiffany was right behind them. Sam kept her eye on the windows on the second and third floors, all of them dark and shadowy with the nightfall around them. The ambient light from the street made her wonder about the house back up in Reno.

If Bill overreacted to Chuck and Greg taking Sam out of the house for a while, she shuddered at the thought of him overreacting to her desire to call her parents about their divorce.

Chuck opened the gate for them, but he stood there in anticipation. Alex led her to the back door and then he held back so she could tend to the door herself.

Sam jiggled the handle with her free hand and it wouldn't budge.

“He locked you out?” Alex asked her, stunned.

“I guess so,” Sam replied. “Well, and the door was locked when I got out anyway.”

“Go around,” Chuck advised her, and she and Alex made their way back to him right as he quietly shut the gate behind him. Sam led the way back to the front door of the house, which was even darker than the back. She could still envision Marla's rental car parked there at the curb.

“Can you see?” Chuck asked her as he and Alex lingered behind her.

“I don't know,” she confessed. “There's the walkway—and here's—the front step here.” She groped around the door panels until she caressed the cold metal of the doorknob. She jiggled that as well with her free hand.

“Well, the house is locked,” she said, “and now I have nowhere to go. I have to call my mom, too.”

“We're staying all the way up in Corona,” Chuck told her.

“Holy wow. So—go back the way we came.”

“Yeah,” he replied with a bit of reluctance.

Sam snickered at that. She was in fact telling the truth: despite her hailing from the area, she often found herself turned around by the sheer vastness of the whole area that it made her wonder if that was in fact how she thrived in the New York City metropolitan area for such a short amount of time.

Careful not to fall off the step, she began back down the walkway with Chuck and Alex, and towards the street. The three of them doubled back to the car parked away from the side of the lake: in the dim light, Sam saw that Alex had his attention fixated on the lake waters next to them. Even with no moon out that night, they still shimmered and glowed with a bit of extra light.

“Those black waters,” he muttered.

“I remember when I was little I used to think there was a sea monster of sorts who lived in this lake,” she said.

“A sea monster, like in Loch Ness?” he chuckled.

“Exactly, yeah!”

“The Elsinore monster,” Chuck added with a bit of a giggle.

They crossed the street from the sidewalk, such that Sam recalled the night before the Day of the Dead, where they congregated together in the park in Cliff's honor. Even though there was not a lick of rain to be found anywhere, she felt that to be the case around there. In the dim light, she spotted Greg leaned against the outside of the car, and he opened the door for them. Pale yellow light washed out of there and onto the black pavement.

“Nothing?” Tiffany called out to them from the inside.

“Both front and back doors are locked,” said Chuck as he pulled the seat back for the three of them. “And by the looks of it, there is no one home there, either.”

Alex climbed into the back first and then Sam followed suit into the middle seat, and Greg rounded it out before he tugged the driver's seat back towards him. Chuck climbed in right there and fired up the car once again. The noise of the engine sliced through the quiet night that she swore it would wake the dead at any given moment.

As they rolled forward, she nestled down next to Alex in the back seat. The first time she actually could for real at that point. She never touched him but she felt his jeans brush against her own. He still smelled of that soft cologne, that same soft aroma that she had picked up when they were laying on the grass together.

The safety of the back seat. The safety of that hotel room up in Corona. The safety of Alex, her new best kept secret.

What used to be a thirty minute drive now took them nearly an hour in order to reach the outskirts of Corona given Chuck kept on shifting his weight in the seat.

“Is everything alright?” Greg asked him.

“Yeah—just did a lot of driving lately is all. We're also going on tour soon, too.”

“Oh, yeah!” Alex decreed with a snap of his fingers. “Monsters of Rock. We're taking Megadeth's place there.”

“And then we're playing two shows around Christmas,” Chuck recalled, “and then we're going over to Reseda shortly after New Year's.”

“And then we go back in the studio to make a third album,” Alex added.

“Wowie,” Sam declared. “Wait, you guys are gonna be at Monsters of Rock?”

“Yup, on the twenty seventh and twenty eighth!” Chuck said. “Gonna be in Germany this time around. We know how much you loved that last one in England, too. Right, Alex?”

“Ohh, god, how could I forget,” Alex himself laughed.

“We'll have to bust you out the back door if we have to,” Greg assured her.

“Yeah, for real!” Chuck laughed again.

“I'd love to go to Germany,” Sam proclaimed.

“And the boys are gonna be with you, too, right?” Tiffany asked.

“Yeah, Anthrax is joining us over there,” Chuck explained. “We have the two German dates only—I forget Dave's reason but they can't come along right now—but Anthrax themselves are going on throughout the tour, all the way to France. Oh!” He smacked the rim of the steering wheel.

“What's up?” Tiffany asked him.

“Sam, you remember that song that Anthrax did? The last time you saw them in New York with me and Eric? That one that he and I both thought was gonna be a hit, 'Antisocial'?”

“Yeah—kind of?” she replied. So much had happened since those two nights in January that she had difficulty thinking about that one song in particular.

“Joey said it was a cover by a little French band called Trust. Apparently, they're going to be headlining the French date of the tour with them!”

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah, Charlie was telling me about that last night. He goes 'that is so trippy that we're touring with Trust and we happened to cover a song from them on our new record.' Small world.”

“We're gonna be playing with them,” Alex started, “Anthrax.”

“Yeah, we're gonna be headlining with them plus Iron Maiden, Kiss, David Lee Roth—from Van Halen—Great White, and a little band called Treat.”

“Treat and Trust,” Sam chuckled.

“Sounds like a spin on 'trick or treat',” Tiffany joked, and Chuck laughed out loud at that.

Soon, the long low ranch style houses of Corona emerged within their view and Chuck took the second stop off to that little hotel off the side of the road. He and Tiffany ducked into the front lobby while Sam, Alex, and Greg reclined in that smooth leather back seat. She glanced over at Greg.

“Thank you for the fries, by the way,” she told him, to which he shook his head.

“It's what I get for smoking a little doobie before the show,” he replied, and he chuckled at that. She then turned her attention to Alex nestled back into the corner of the seat as if he was cold.

“I didn't get high, just for reference,” he assured her.

“Explains why you smell good,” she said, and Greg chuckled some more.

“They just smelled good!” Alex insisted. He gave his black curls a little toss back with a flick of his head. She eyed the center of his neck and that prominent Adam's apple and the underside of his jawline. His deep eyes thoughtfully gazed back at her from the shadows: that little plume of gray over his brow seemed to be far brighter right there, even in the darkness.

“You're like a dark prince,” she remarked.

“Me?” he laughed at that.

“Yeah—from the dark hair and the little streak of gray—you're the prince who came to save me from the tower.”

“Greg and Chuck were the ones who got you out of there, though,” he pointed out. “I was just sitting there in the back seat when the whole thing went down.”

“But you're still like a prince, though,” she insisted, “a dark heavy metal prince from an ancient time—probably more so than Joey.”

“Joey and Chuck are the wise Indian chiefs,” he said. “If I'm the prince, what's he?” He nodded over to Greg in the opposite seat, and Sam took a glimpse back at him.

“He's the court jester,” she told him.

“Hey, why does he get to be prince and I'm just jester?” Greg demanded, hurt.

“Okay, you're the knight,” she corrected herself.

“The knight! Not the Black Knight, though.”

“No way, unless you wanna start biting people while you're laying on the ground.”

“Nah,” Greg shook his head.

A tap on the window grabbed each of their attention and Tiffany cupped her hands around her face as she peered in at them. Alex reached past the seat and he lifted the door handle so as to let her into the car.

“C'mon, you three little birds,” she encouraged them. For a second, Sam flashed back on the Stormtroopers of Death tour, wherein she saw Charlie and Marla as the parents who drove the car for her on the way up to Poughkeepsie: Chuck and Tiffany had taken on that role at that point. Alex climbed out first, and then Sam followed and lastly by Greg.

“Okay, so we're going to have to sneak in a bit,” she was telling them as they made their way around the white stucco side of the hotel to all the rooms there. Sam almost had to bow her head a bit just so they could make their way past the windows into the front lobby. Chuck already stood there by the door with the key card nestled in between his fingers.

He unlocked the door for them and Sam bowed her way in first, and Tiffany, Greg, and Alex followed right behind her.

“Why'd we have to sneak in?” Sam asked Tiffany.

“Because we paid for a room for four people, not five,” Chuck explained. “If nothing, we'll make it look as though you're just visiting us.”

“She technically is, Chuck,” Alex pointed out.

“Technically but they don't know that, though, Alex,” Chuck insisted.

“Okay, so who's sleeping where?” Greg asked them.

“You three can take that bed right next to us,” Tiffany pointed out. “They're both big enough so we can sleep in them comfortably.”

Sam showed Alex a little smile and he raised his eyebrows at her a bit, but his facial expression never changed a bit. As far as she knew, he still felt unsure of her. If only she could find out what he genuinely felt about her as she took her seat on the edge of the bed closest to the door and the window.

“I have to call my mom,” she told him.

“Please do. I'm sure she'll be happy to hear your voice—I know my mom always is with me.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Greg added.

For a few seconds, she forgot the number back to the house up in Reno but then she recalled it once she dialed the first three digits. She held the phone up to her ear and waited for a few seconds.

“Hello?” Esmé answered.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Oh, hi, Sam! I was just going to ask Marla if you got your new phone number yet. How's everything going?”

“Um—” She froze when she remembered that she had asked the three men right in front of her to keep it all under wraps, and thus she had no idea as to how to break it to her mother right there. “Good. Everything is good.”

She shuddered at the realization that she had just lied to her own mother.

“That's good. Well, you know how I was thinking of moving down to Los Angeles when all of this is said and done?”

“Yes?” It took Sam a few seconds to recall the conversation that she had had with Esmé while she was still back in New York.

“Well, it might be sooner than you may think, my dear. Ruben and I are about to go through all the proceedings in the coming weeks. We'll be able to finalize it sometime near the end of the year.”

“How long does it take?” That gave Sam an idea.

“Well, for your father and me both, it took about a week in order to properly file and we're about to go through all the proceedings. Should take some time, but it should be final come December.”

“So—three months?”

“Give or take. We've had to sign some papers both, you know come to a mutual agreement and whatnot.” Esmé fell silent for a moment.

“Everything okay?” Sam asked her. Tiffany took her seat on the edge of the bed across from her and raised her eyebrows at her.

“Yeah,” Esmé replied in a wistful tone, “I thought for sure that your father and I would be together forever. We were supposed to grow old together. But it's over now. I wanted to be closer to you and he wasn't willing to leave for New York with you and me. Yes, your own father wasn't willing to leave the West Coast for his girls.”

Sam's face fell. She thought about what Esmé had said to her about Ruben possibly not even being her true father.

“How's Joey, by the way?”

“They're on tour right now, so he's stylin' right now,” Sam answered in a single breath.

“Aw, that's good! You know, as long as your father and I have lived in the southland, we never got to see a concert together?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I would've loved to have seen The Beatles when they were together. But of course, that was the middle of the Sixties—when I was pregnant with you and when he and I were thinking of settling down in Elsinore to raise you.”

Sam peered up at Alex, who congregated on the far side of the room next to Greg with a bottle of water and his shirt slung over his shoulder. Her mother didn't even know that she was in the same room as them, especially Alex himself. But she gazed on at the smooth skin upon his deep bare chest. Even though he was to turn twenty in the next month, he still had a little bit of a full waist, made ever so slighly fuller by the tightness of his jeans.

“So I'm thinking that I can find my way back down to the City of Angels by Christmas time or by New Year's,” Esmé continued on.

“What's Dad gonna do?” Sam asked her.

“No idea, to be perfectly honest,” Esmé replied. “He tells me he'll still be here in Reno, or he might go to the Bay Area.”

She raised her eyebrows at that.

“He might go over to the Bay Area?” she echoed that, and Alex, Greg, and Chuck turned their attention to her.

“Might, though,” Esmé pointed out. “It's a possibility, but he might just stay here in Reno for all I know. I have no idea yet.”

“But, you're going to be down here, though,” she recalled.

“Right. I've been looking at apartments and houses near the beaches, like Santa Monica or Manhattan—I might go out to the islands, like Catalina. I'm going to have the money soon enough so I can afford to live out there.”

“Oh, just think of Catalina,” Sam said.

“I know, right! I can actually say that I live out on an island. But that's what's happening right now. I'm glad you're nearby us again so I'm able to see you more.” She had a comfort in her mother's words right there: even though she was far away from her true home of New York City, she could seek refuge in her parents and their proximity. Indeed, Greg and Chuck took their seats on the edge of either bed from her in anticipation.

“Anyways, I have to go, sweetie—it's getting late,” Esmé told her.

“Yeah, I agree,” Sam said.

“I have a busy day tomorrow, too. But—you sleep well tonight. I'm glad you're near us again. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Mom. Good night.”

They hung up at the same time and Sam sighed through her nose, and then she returned to Chuck on the edge of the bed opposite to her.

“Don't wanna pry but—care to share?”

“Well, I wanted this to be a secret kept between me and Alex,” she started, “but my parents are getting divorced. My mom's coming down to the L.A. area, or she might go out to Santa Catalina Island, while my dad might go over to the Bay Area.”

“Wow!” Tiffany declared with her mouth agape.

“Yeah. Which means that they're gonna be selling that house in Reno—the house I used to know so well. At the same time, I can say that it's going to be a honor to have my old bed in a brand new place on Catalina Island.”

“You should buy that house, though,” Chuck suggested.

“I don't have the money, though,” Sam pointed out. “Besides, I can only focus on getting out of that house in Elsinore—or at least finding a way out of that nonsense that he had gotten me into there.”

“Wow,” Greg remarked with his arms folded across his chest.

“So you guys wanna turn in for the night?” Tiffany offered them.

“Might as well, babe,” Chuck replied with a yawn.

Sam had to change her clothes in the bathroom, but she changed into one of the Death Angel shirts she had bought for herself, one that was a little too big for her, and then she padded out of there without any pants on.

“Cute,” Tiffany noted with a chuckle as she made her way over to the bed closest to the window. Greg dropped his jeans and he climbed into the bed right next to her. Alex pushed the slightly ajar door open and he showed them the little white bucket of ice in one hand while he locked the door behind him with the other.

“Sam's gonna be snuggled in between two boys,” Tiffany joked.

“Lucky girl,” Chuck added which brought another laugh out of her.

“Yeah, Alex,” Greg said, “you and her oughta do something together when the three of us fall asleep.”

“We'd have to wake you guys, though,” Sam pointed out.

“Besides, you're legally married now,” he declared. “I can't do that.”

“He won't suspect it's you, though,” Sam insisted. “He's never even seen you before. Besides, I'm sure that if you and I have an affair with each other, it's got to null the whole thing.”

Greg giggled at that but Alex rolled his eyes instead. He set the bucket of ice down on the nightstand and he headed into the bathroom with his pajama bottoms. Sam then turned to Chuck and the expression of mischief on his face.

“So after The New Order, what's next?” she asked him.

“Not sure,” Chuck confessed as he flicked on the television.

“Whoa,” Greg blurted out at the news report and he pointed towards it.

“What's up?” Chuck asked him, and then he gaped at the screen on the other side of the room. “Hey, Alex!”

Alex bowed out of the bathroom with no shirt on and his gray flannel pajama bottoms on part of the way.

“Huh?”

“Jean Michel Basquiat died,” Chuck told him.

“What!” Alex was stunned and he looked on at the screen himself with his mouth agape. Sam recalled seeing his name in passing while in Bill's art history class and yet he never went into him in depth. All she knew was he was a graffiti painter somewhere in Manhattan: she wished to know more about him. She wished to be away from Bill's holier than thou approach to everything.

“His art's gonna go through the roof now,” Tiffany said.

“Hell yeah. Probably going to get more rare, too.” Alex returned to the bed right next to Sam, to which she shook her head at the sight before her. To not have known more about him before he passed.

“Heroin at twenty seven,” Chuck said, “that's just not right.”

She glanced over at Alex and the look of concern on his face. She had to show him her artistry at some point herself, especially once they switched off the light for the night.

She lay down in the middle of the king sized bed, right in between those two boys: Greg lay flat on his back and with his hands upon his chest while Alex lay on his left side and faced the side of her head. At one point, she rolled her head over the top of the pillow for a better look at his slumbering face.

She thought back to when Joey watched her sleep.

He wished she could see what he saw in her, and she also wished Alex could see what she saw in him, especially with the sight of him sleeping right there before her. His eyelids were smooth and gentle such that they accentuated his eyelashes; his skin seemed smoother in appearance, and the plume of gray had been buried in the pillow. He actually resembled to a little boy laying there especially with his fingers out from under the edge of the blankets.

He never seemed so soft than he did right there next to her, such that she wanted to hold him. Hold him like a little doll.

A loud knock on the door stirred him a bit, but he never awoke. Silence settled over them again and Sam didn't move a muscle.

Another knock.

“WE CLOSED!” Chuck shouted from total dead sleep, and Alex snorted at that; a smirk crossed his face but he never woke up.

But Sam kept her eyes fixed on his slumbering face, all the way until she fell asleep herself. If only he could see the softness that she saw in him right there.

Come the next morning, the fog rolled into the southland for the morning, such that it made even the most bone dry of plants feel more at ease with everything in the state of California. Chuck and Greg headed out of the room to fetch breakfast, while Tiffany continued to sleep in the neighboring bed.

Alex leaned back against the headboard with his hands rested upon his lap as he watched the news report for that morning. He didn't even look tired upon his waking up.

“So you go back to the house in a bit,” he said in a low voice, low from the sleep and low enough so as to not wake Tiffany.

“Yeah, I think we're gonna try again,” Sam told him as she continued to lay there flat on her back next to him. “I mean—it makes sense, though.”

“Still gonna be hell of a time getting you back there, though,” he pointed out.

“Well, we're going to have to go back to the house, though,” Sam said as her face fell. “You guys are going to be going on tour soon and I've got nothing better to do, too.”

Alex squinted his eyes and he was silent for a good long minute.

“Let's see... what's today, the twelfth?”

“The thirteenth,” she replied.

“Oh, damn.” He raised his eyebrows at that. “Well, we leave for Europe on the twenty first—it's a Sunday. If he seals you up into the house, we are literally going to have to bust you out of there. I don't know how we're going to do that, but we'll find a way.”

The door swung open and Chuck and Greg stepped inside with cups of coffee and boxes of breakfast. Alex then returned to Sam.

“We will find a way,” he whispered to her.

Once they had drank down their coffee and ate their breakfast, they all piled back into the car and returned to the house in Lake Elsinore. That time around, Tiffany walked back to the front door with her. The sky hung low with the marine layer overhead, perfect for the return to the three story house. No signs of life on the outside, but Sam was sure that Bill and the girls were awake at that point.

“I hope we can have you come along with us to Germany,” Tiffany confessed to her as they reached the front door together.

“I hope so, too!” Although a voice in the back of Sam's mind told her that it was going to happen one way or the other. “So you guys driving back up to the Bay Area?”

“Yup, we should be back there in a few hours. If you need anything at all, call me and Chuck.”

She threw her arms around Sam and held her close to her chest for a good long minute.

“You be careful here, okay?” she told Sam.

“Yeah, I'll try to,” she vowed. “You guys take care, too.”

Tiffany patted her shoulder and then Sam turned to the door. The knob turned that time and she ducked into the house.

“Anyone home?” she called out as she shut the door behind her. She had her purse over her shoulder and the little bag of Death Angel shirts in the other. No sooner had she closed the door when he seemed to have come out of nowhere and he stopped her right in his tracks.

“Where have you been!” Bill demanded with his hands pressed to his hips.

“I was with friends, I told you,” she replied, nonplussed. “I literally told you right before I left. I'm also going to need you to stop freaking out whenever I even so much as want to do something with the people I like.”

She rolled her eyes and she tried to step past him towards the stairwell.

“Hey—” He shoved her towards the wall and then he pinned her there. “—don't get smart with me, young lady. I am your husband. You are to listen to me and only me.”

“I want a divorce,” she blurted out right into his face.

“What?” He laughed at that.

“I want a divorce, Bill. I don't deserve any of this. I want a divorce.”

“A divorce? Fat chance. Go upstairs, young lady.”

“I want a divorce!” she commanded.

“You say that one more time, the next time the girls and I go somewhere for a whole day, I'm locking you in the house. I literally cannot afford a divorce.” He showed her a smug smile but in his eyes, she saw anger embedded within.

She then thought about what Alex had told her, in that they were leaving for Germany on a Sunday. Indeed, she knew that she could time it right. And thus, she let her nostrils flare and she made her way back upstairs. She had to time it just right, lest the whole thing go straight down the tubes. All the times they were out of the house, she took the cordless phone for herself and she made call to Marla to check in and also to say what was going on, and then another one to Chuck.

Marla hadn't landed a job at the school as of yet but they did tell Bill that his paychecks were done from there on out. He had no money coming in for the time being now; Marla herself meanwhile had an interview with the shop Belinda worked at.

“Genie and I are going to Albany!” she declared.

“Might be,” Sam corrected her.

“Bel told me it's a real possibility right now.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“What're you going to do about my couch, though?”

“I'll take it with me,” Marla promised her. “Bel needs a couch anyway.”

On her phone call to Chuck, she told him what had happened and she added that because it was a Sunday, she would have to time it to the absolute day in which she could say it to him. And that was the day. That was the Friday before they left for Germany.

“I'm gonna need you guys to come and get me out of here on the morning you leave,” she told him.

“We're gonna be pushin' it,” he confessed, “'cause of the flights from L.A. instead of the Bay Area and everything. But we can totally do it, though. We'll have to leave the Bay Area early so we can get there before he has to leave.”

The front door opened right then.

“I gotta go,” she told him in a near whisper. “He's home.”

“Be careful,” Chuck advised her, also in a near whisper.

She hung up and then she stepped out of her room. She descended the stairs to the second landing and there he was, by the door. He glared up at her.

“Bill, I want a divorce,” she said in a strong voice, and he sneered at her with that.

“We will do no such thing,” he stated in a curt tone, “not in a house of God.”

“We will—and there will be hell to pay if it doesn't happen.”

“Locking you in the house then,” he said in a singsong voice.

And indeed he did. Over the Saturday morning, he had put glue on the doorknob and he spent all day reversing the locks on the front and back doors, to which Sam just had to laugh at. He was going to all this trouble just to keep her in the house. Come Sunday morning, he had locked the doors and he took the girls through the garage door, to which he barred shut with a series of boxes. All the while, he hid the keys.

Sam peered out the top window and watched them leave for church and Sunday school, perhaps the last time the girls could ever attend a private school from that point onward. But this was her life regardless of that. Within a few minutes time, she recognized that hatchback clear across the way. The morning sun kissed his crown of jet black hair and that little plume atop his head: she could see him even from far away.

“There you are!” he called up to her.

“The doors are locked,” she told him.

“The doors are locked?” he echoed her.

“Yeah. I don't know if I can open the windows.”

He nibbled on his bottom lip and he opened the gate, and he made his way over to the kitchen window. She could hear him struggling down there.

“Alex!” she called from the top window. He peered up to her from the grass down below, slightly out of breath.

“You seriously can't get out?” he called up to her.

“Both doors are locked shut,” she told, “and the windows are, too. Bill hid the keys so he literally barred me in here.”

“Hey, remember what I said we're going to have to literally bust you out of there?”

“Yeah?”

Alex nibbled on his bottom lip and then he turned his attention to that car across the lake.

“Hey, Chuck!”

Sam watched him walk on back towards the other side of the lake. All the while, she wondered if either Marla or Aurora were willing to do such a thing for her. She watched them converse about something together, and then Chuck nodded his head at him. Eric joined in right behind them with something elongated in hand.

The three of them made their way back towards the house as if they were about to take a man out together.

“Time for plan B,” Chuck was saying as they came back within earshot.

“Wait, you guys have a plan B?” Sam called down.

“Come downstairs to the back door here,” Eric said. Without sparing further expense, Sam scooped up her things and she bowed downstairs to the second floor and then the ground floor. She sprinted down the hall towards the door right as she spotted Chuck's head outside of the kitchen window. He nodded at her and then gestured to the window sill itself.

“Huh?” She moved in closer to the window to figure out as to what he was saying to her right then.

“Stand back,” Chuck hollered through the window.

Sam nodded and then leaned her back against the wall with her things and then—

THUD.

“Well, Jesus Christ, Chuck, you don't have to be a baseball player,” Eric scoffed. “Here, I'll get it.”

Sam awaited another few seconds and then, that long object speared right there the window. She stepped out of the way as it landed onto the linoleum before her. They had taken a aluminum baseball bat and Eric had hurled it through the window pane. Splinters of the glass shattered apart and spread out right there across the sink basin and the linoleum.

Sam then bowed towards the window with a look of amazement on her face.

“We're supposed to protect our female fans, remember?” Eric recalled for her and he reached out through the gap in the wall for her. “Here, gimme your things first.”

She handed him her overnight bag as well as her purse and her journal, and he handed all three to Chuck for safe keeping. And then the same as before, but this time around there was no threat of Bill right behind her and thus she could take her time climbing out through the broken window. She set one foot on the edge of the sink basin and she hoisted herself up with the help of the faucet.

“You got it?” Eric asked her; she took his hand and then, careful not to cut herself on a shard of glass, she rested her knee upon the sill. Alex hurried over to help her way through the hole there. His hand rested upon her stomach once she was part of the way out of there.

“Okay—you got it?” Eric gently coaxed her once more.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

But then she lost her balance and she fell past Eric and onto Alex. He fell onto his back and she landed on his chest. For a few fleeting seconds, she thought about that daydream she had had before. She lifted herself off of his little body and she noticed that the top button on his shirt had come undone, and he showed a little bit more of his chest for her. His black curls spread out from his head and his lips were parted in stunned fashion for her.

“My prince,” she said to him in a light whisper, and he raised his eyebrows at her. She then climbed off of him and he sat upright on the grass. Eric helped him up from there and then the four of them headed on back to Greg, whom of which awaited them right next to the car there by the curb. Eric hurried along side right next to her.

“We may have broken the law but what he was doing was way worse, I would think,” he told her in a low voice.

“Far worse,” she replied. “Locked me up in the house without any hope of escape. He didn't even tell me when he was coming back, either!”

“Yeah, he can deal with a broken window for a bit,” Eric concluded. Chuck carried her purse and her overnight bag in both hands as if they belonged to her, but she didn't see her journal anywhere on his person. She hoped that he didn't drop it somewhere back there, lest she knew that someone could find it for themselves. She need not feel paranoid about it all. Even though she was legally married to Bill, as far as she knew, therein lay nothing about her staying behind for him there at the house, especially after what he did to her back there, either. Eric did in fact have a valid point.

They reached the car within time and he stuck her things into the back part there. She turned her attention to Eric and Alex, the latter of whom held her journal in his hands.

“Chuck dropped this,” he told her, and he handed it to her, and then she remembered that he hadn't really seen her art at that point, either.

“Thank you,” she said to her prince, unbeknownst by the fact that he was talking to the artist who made those drawings for Charlie that whole time. He showed her a sweet little smile.

“I didn't look inside—just to give you your privacy,” he assured her as she climbed into the back seat, right next to Greg and in turn right next to Alex himself. Eric took to the passenger seat, and then Chuck rounded out the inside behind the wheel.

“Tiff and Louie are already at the airport,” he told Sam.

“Goodie! By the way, where'd you find a baseball bat of metal?”

“Some dude named Frankie Bello,” Eric replied as he took off his leather gloves, “he painted over that thing, too, so there's no finding us, either.”

Chuck then fired up the car and they headed into the cul de sac once again, and they doubled back up the street. “Next stop—Deutschland!”

3 notes · View notes

cluelessnamelessao3 · 3 years

Text

But It’s Not Funny

4. But I Can’t Stop Laughing

You stood in the backroom, washing out a water bowl that one of the dogs had managed to tip the entire contents of their food bowl into. It had turned the dry kibble into a gross gravy-like mush. Plus, it didn’t exactly smell great either, so it needed to be dealt with now. Right now, because you were not ready to deal with smelling that rancid stink for another minute more.

“You’re like a Chihuahua,” Frisk said suddenly, causing your hands to still as your brow furrowed with confusion.

You blinked at them, your face growing warm. Your eyes were narrowed and indignant. You weren’t sure you liked being compared to a small, yappy dog.

“What?” you exclaimed, “I am not!”

“You’re just so small and angry. Like a Chihuahua! You even shake like one…” They were giggling, their face hidden behind their hands and you were trying your best not to look too offended.

“I’m not even that small! You’re the same size as me, punk!”

Frisk giggled again, “Yeah, but I’m, like, sixteen! And hoowww old are you?” They sang, wiggling their eyebrows at you with a smirk on their face.

“Okay, okay, like-sixteen, go put this bowl back in the kennel, please.” You were trying and failing to sound stern, and they made a face which had you laughing a second later. As they left, they turned to sign a quick apology for teasing you, but you shook your head, a small smile still stuck on your face.

The door rang and you turned, expecting… not… that.

You blanched at the sight but tried not to let your discomfort show as you mumbled out a weak “Hello! How can I help you?”

The mass in front of you shivered and wiggled—the skin on its face (well, you assumed that was its face) quivered slightly and a gaping hole appeared in the middle. The creature seemed to be panting heavily and their shaking increased as you stepped out from behind the counter.

It had… so many legs. The head was distinctly dog-like with large, pointed ears and something akin to a snout. There appeared to be a tail on the back of it, and between each leg looked to be the outline of a dog—but you weren’t sure. It was too hard to tell with how constantly the form seemed to shift and move and change.

You approached it slowly, trying to hide your queasiness by being friendly. You cooed at it, gesturing it to come closer.

It seemed to like that and bounded up to you within seconds, its odd, tail-like protrusion wagging sporadically, flicking specks of whatever substance made this creature up all over your store.

You laid your palm out flat in front of its face and…

The thing practically swallowed your hand whole. You were about to scream in terror when suddenly your hand reappeared from the mass with a wet pop… just covered in a thick layer of some sort of grey ooze. It was becoming harder and harder not to throw up.

As you tried to hold back your gags at the unpleasant presence of the creature, you noticed a familiar figure standing behind the shifting mass of goop that somewhat resembled a dog.

“Sans?” You squeaked, almost in disbelief.

“In the flesh… or should I say sans the flesh.” He winked cheekily and you furrowed your brows, “That’s your cue to uh, laugh, or, yanno, emote at all?” Then, seemingly more to himself he whispered, “Kid sure knows how to pick ‘em.”

You frowned, “I’m still here, and can definitely hear you.”

He shrugged, definitely not apologetic in the least, “Sorry, kiddo, just findin’ it hard to tickle your funny bone.”

Your mouth twitched and you fought the urge to laugh—He’d been rude to you! There was no way you were going to start giggling just because of a few dumb jokes. Instead, you chose to question the… creature… he’d brought with them.

“So, uh, do they have a name?”

At that moment though, Frisk popped their head out from the backroom and squealed with excitement.

“ENDOGENY!”

The quivering mass responded to Frisk’s voice by shaking even more violently than they were before, you swear you could see pieces of slime rolling off of them and splattering onto the floor. Each time it did though, it collected itself back into the creature’s—Endogeny’s form.

Sans, saved from answering your question, watched as you interacted with Frisk. It was interesting—you were interesting. But at least Frisk seemed to like you. He felt an ounce of regret; he’d reacted badly upon seeing you and he knew he hadn’t made the best impression on you, but it was too late to fix that. Fate would sort itself out anyway. That was what it always did.

It turned out that cleaning the amalgamation, Endogeny, wasn’t as hard as it seemed. Their skin was like wet clay, somewhat malleable and pliable, or maybe they were more like the silly putty you used to play with as a kid. The water tended to bounce right off of them, so you opted to use a dry shampoo on their fur—or lack thereof.

Sans watched the entire time and you tried not to feel too awkward as you and Frisk worked. He wasn’t necessarily doing anything wrong, but you could feel his eyes on you. It was wearing on your patience and eventually you turned around, an angry flush on your face, and snapped, “Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

He smirked. You resisted the urge to throw something at him.

It was almost a relief to see him go.

The rest of the day went pretty smoothly and soon you found yourself packing up to leave.

“So, Frisk, shall I take you home?”

They nodded, a smile on their tanned face, “Actually, we’re gonna go to Paps’ house, I’m staying the night over there!”

“Ah, okay, kiddo. Then, let’s go, yeah?” You grabbed Luna’s leash in one hand and Frisk’s hand in the other. In your short time of knowing the kid, you felt oddly protective of them. You were pretty sure you’d fight a bitch for this kid if the need ever arose. Though, you weren’t even that much older than them, you shouldn’t really be considering them a kid anymore.

As if echoing your thoughts, they spoke up indignantly, “I’m not a kid! I’m nearly an ADULT!”

You laughed as the two of you left the shop, “That’s what a KID would say!” It took all of your willpower not to smirk at them and their flushed face. They were too fun to tease. It was like being with the little sibling you’d never had.

Frisk chatted with you about their family the entire walk to Papyrus’ place, even mentioning a sibling of theirs that… apparently, wasn’t even a sibling. They weren’t even really a human—nor a monster. You’d never really questioned Frisk’s family, nor their mother that by all means could not possibly be their biological mother.

There would never be a more perfect time to ask than now, “Hmm, so, uh, how’d you meet… er, I mean, like, Toriel is your adoptive parent, right?”

They shrugged, “Yeah, I guess so, they’re more like my real momma than… my mother was…” Their voice trailed off and when you looked over at them, they seemed to be deep in thought. Gently, you reached out and tapped their shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’m glad you have Toriel. Found family can be better than the biological. So, uh, tell me about your brother… Asriel, right?”

They nodded, the haunted look in their eyes replaced with a much more affectionate expression, “Yeah! My brother Asriel is really great… Though, uh, he likes to be called Flowey now… And I mean, he’s also a flower, but like, it’s not a big deal!”

You’d have to keep that in mind—Flowey, not Asriel. Also, what? He wasn’t a human? And he wasn’t a goat monster? He was a fucking flower? Was he conscious? Sentient? You weren’t sure… “I’ll have to meet him sometime. Maybe we can have a little picnic with your mother and your brother next week!”

Frisk agreed enthusiastically, their smile wider than ever. ‘I want to do that soon!’ They signed quickly.

You’d begun to notice in the two weeks that you’d been working with them that Frisk tended to switch to sign language when they got overly excited.

“I’d love to meet more of your family and spend some time with them!”

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you continued to walk. Frisk led you into a short alleyway and out onto a different street… a very familiar street… it took you a second to realize this was in the same neighbourhood as your apartment complex.

You got a sinking feeling in your gut as Frisk led you directly toward your building, but you were relieved—probably a little too relieved when you realized they didn’t actually live in your building, but rather just a block or so to the right of where you stayed.

You liked to have your space, even if you liked Papyrus a lot.

“Do you have family?” Frisk’s voice knocked you from your thoughts and you took a moment to blink at them confusedly.

“Uhhh, y-yeah… I… uh do.” You weren’t really keen on talking about them… There wasn’t much to say other than the fact that you didn’t exactly ‘get along’ with your family. You were, for all intents and purposes, completely estranged from them. Your father was neglectful, drowning his sorrows in alcohol, and your stepmother was hateful. She blamed you for a lot of things—she even blamed you for your own trauma.

You sighed, “They’re fine, I guess… I have a dad, a stepmom, and a stepbrother. My… my mother died when I was younger.”

Frisk nodded solemnly, seeming to consider your words carefully before asking, “Can I meet them someday? They can’t be that bad if they made you.”

You were saved from having to answer when Papyrus burst through the front door of his house, “OH WOWIE! I knew we had the TINY HUMAN coming over! But I didn’t think that they were going to bring the OTHER TINY HUMAN over TOO!”

He lunged toward you, arms outstretched, and you instinctively took a step back, fear swirling in your stomach. He seemed to take the cue, though, because he suddenly seemed a lot more subdued as he mumbled out a quick apology, “Sorry SMALL human, I forgot that you do not wish to be TOUCHED!”

You nodded meekly, and awkwardly patted his shoulder—or rather, his forearm, you couldn’t reach his shoulder. “It’s nice to see you again, Paps, maybe you, Undyne, and I could hang out again sometime.”

Frisk whined petulantly and you smiled affectionately, “Well of course Frisk is coming too, that’s just a given! It’s no party without little boss, here.”

The three of you chatted amiably for a moment before the two of them waved goodbye and headed into the house. You carefully picked your way down the stairs, hands in your pockets, Luna’s leash dragging on the ground beside you.

You were feeling weird—almost jealous? You wanted to head in and join them, maybe sit down for a cup of tea and talk for a while. You wanted to share stories of family and friends, gossip about nightmare costumers at the groomer’s shop, or complain about noisy neighbours. It’d been such a long time since you’d just hung out with someone for the fun of it—not counting the unplanned hangout with Undyne and Papyrus earlier this week.

You’d lost contact with most of your friends, either because they had given up on you, or because you’d isolated yourself; it was hard to tell who was at fault for your solitude. But that wasn’t right, because no, blame couldn’t be ladled out at your discretion. Everything that had happened was a matter of choice—you’d chosen the path your life was on… even if you hadn’t meant for it to turn out this way…

You hadn’t known the consequences. You hadn’t been prepared for them.

Luna pushed her wet nose into your limp hand, and you blinked, suddenly realizing you were still standing by the front steps of Papyrus’ house. Your face flushed with embarrassment. You hurriedly reached down to scoop up Luna’s leash.

Some days it just like your head got away from you and you found yourself staring into space as you thought and thought and thought and the thoughts kept getting thought and it was nonstop. Half the time it wasn’t until someone called your name, or Luna noticed and got your attention that you would snap out of it.

Time flew by when you were like that. It was so hard for you to get out of your own head when you started to overthink.

“Hey, kid!” A deep drawling voice rang out and you flinched, “Sorry, heh, I just saw you out here… I just got off work and was headin’ home. Were you droppin’ the little kiddo off?”

It was Sans, he was in his typical faded blue jacket with its fluffy white fur hood, the black athletic shorts he wore contrasting hugely with the bright white of his bones. It connected, at that moment, that you were just standing in front of his house. You knew Papyrus had a sibling, although you hadn’t realised it was Sans.

You nodded in answer, still feeling odd from your lapse in attention earlier.

He seemed to sense something was wrong, “Hey, it’s gettin’ kind of late, how about I walk ya home?”

You shrugged, "I can manage, it’s fine..." you trailed off, noticing the look of worry on his face.

“Look, to patella ya the truth, I think we got off on the wrong foot… So uh, throw me a bone here and I’ll take ya home?” He looked so awkward there as he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, that you couldn’t help but take pity on him.

“Yeah… uh, sure… I’d, uh, be bonely on my own,” you giggled helplessly at the end of your own joke.

The expression on his face made it all the better as his eyes widened and he let out a most unattractive snort.

“That’s good, that’s real’ good,” he chuckled.

“Well, I mean…” you chewed your lower lip, thinking for a moment, “if you like puns so much, I happen to know a skele-ton of skele-puns.”

He laughed and gestured for you to start walking. The two of you made your way down the sidewalk giggling all the while as you swapped jokes back and forth.

All too soon you ended up at the front of your apartment building.

You were just about to head inside before Sans stopped you, “Hey uhm, I made kind of a shitty first impression… sorry ‘bout that, kid… Yeah, like, really sorry for being kind of rude…”

You waved a hand dismissively, “No, sorry, yeah, you’re totally fine… uh, don’t worry about it at all. Besides, I could have been nicer, right? Sorry… Er, I mean, I’m sorry as well…”

He chuckled softly, the smile on his face much softer than you’d seen it before, “No bones about it, I was a real numbskull.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry! I’m sorry, just, uh, let’s start over, how about?”

He nodded, looking slightly relieved.

You were just about to head inside once again when he stopped you once more. If anything, he looked even more nervous than he did when he’d asked to walk you home. “So uh, I was wondering… as, heh, a way to ‘start over’…”

He took a deep breath, like he was mentally preparing himself for something big; you waited with bated breath.

“Look, I lost my number, can I have yours?”

You snorted before you could stop yourself and clapped a hand over your mouth as you giggled, “That is the worst come on I’ve ever heard.”

You could have sworn there was a light blue dusting on his cheeks, but when you took a closer look, it was gone, and his mildly embarrassed expression was replaced with the typical easy grin. You held out your hand, gesturing for his phone and he handed it to you.

You settled for the name “NOT Tiny Human” and typed your contact information in, “There you have it… Just don’t, uh, text me at like three in the morning and we should be good—or do, I mean, I’m not your boss.”

He snickered and for the third time that night you said your goodbyes, this time actually making it inside. When you turned around to wave one last time, he was gone.

#binf #but it's not funny #chapter 4 #chapter 4 but it's not funny #binf undertale #undertale #sans undertale #sans/reader #sans/female reader #undertale fanfiction #fanfiction

7 notes · View notes

rootiebaga · 3 years

Text

nobody asked, i know, but heres my departments thus far! (with nicknames, of course)

note! i do use mods, one of them being the ultimate fashion corp mod from reddit, a mod that lets you keep your employees after you reset a run, and some other useful ones

also its under the cut because uh- long

control team! (aka the OGS! (because control team is the first department people unlock when starting a run))

morty (former employee)

-may the brave fool rest, gone, but not forgotten.

rootieee (captain)

-its, its my self insert what do i have to sa

paul

-the most boring in the facility (and the most sane one in the department,)

-just wants to do his job correctly.

-not much to say about him, really

maxim (morty’s replacement after he died, rest in piece morty, you were a brave hero, yet a little dumb after trying to fight a green dawn in the early runs i had)

-morty’s big bro, a little sad that morty died but he didn’t know all that much in the facility,

-takes his job too seriously

-usually chills in the main room alot,

shao

-an absolutely innocent baby, even if they some horrifying abnormalities, they would still think of them as cute

-just, likes being here, many friends for them!

-they also like hugs!

igoree (rip)

-the sleepy employee has come back! wowie

-still sleepy and also hungry,

-the one who doesn’t work all that much

-..”how did she.. die? did she just want to? what in the world happened there? is it because of that behaviour adjustment thing?”

“just forget about it and keep working,”

“but, paul im curious-”

“quiet.”

eden

-woooooo returning!

-one of the calmest people in the department

-probably wouldn’t even be phased by the effect [CENSORED] gives her if we had it

“hey uh, eden? i got something to tell you..”

“go on shao,”

“didn’t... something happen to you? h-how are you even-”

“hey hey, dont worry about that! just, make sure you stay safe, alright?”

information team! (aka the threeks! (named by tom, who is dead, an idiot, and couldn’t count))

tom (dead)

-an idiot

-okay moving on

ryn

-the only one with aleph gear, seriously (edit (draft edition): hes the first one with aleph gear after i got nothing there’s gear, the second being daniel)

-chill once you get to know him,

-likes protecting others with his gear, since, you know

mason

-usually anxious, he doesn’t mean to be though!

-”alright calm down.. never mind this is not the time to calm dOW-”

-probably likes ryn??

eugene

-a little bit crazy, yet kind nonetheless!

-hi

-just wants some friends, unfortunately not many people are willing to befriend her due to her kinda crazy nature

-basically someone who cares for everyone in the facility, y e e

(also whats known as a “bow kinnie” to the control team captain) /j

emma

-looks really kind until you try to talk to her, shes an asshole is what im trying to say

-likes to bite things with the sharp teeth she has, because why not

-absolute chaos

ray

-i dont know why she exists, shes just there

safety team! (aka the wind wielders (named by isabel, cause he likes flutes))

isabel

-brother of gregory

-the second innocent bean,,

-likes playing the flute whenever hes done for the day

-i accidentally gave him crumbling armour’s gift

gregory

-brother of isabel

-prefers acting over playing instruments,

-a bit more serious,

neville (prefers nelville)

-an absolutely tired employee, they just like waiting till everyone is done for the day to go home

-they’d be at home if they weren’t forced by their friend to work here

-hates everything right now

ramirez

-the joyful friend

-wanted to work here because of the people here, so many unique faces!

-likes all things unique, she usually loves trying different things that look nothing alike from the things she tried before

khanna

-the mute employee in the facility, uses notes to communicate

-another sane one, yet still kinda nervous

-a bean

training team! (aka “nobody here is fine” (named for the fact that almost everyone is very nervous, and then we got firenze))

hana

-the one thats sad most of the time

-really helpful for when it comes to working on abnormalities!

-gregory has a crush on them (why would you say tha)

sobin

-before you think of him as edgy, hes not all that edgy personality wise, he just likes the aesthetic

-hes just a really chill and friendly dude

-yes, he can see more with the e.g.o outfit hes wearing, it is pretty strange to him though

firenze

-the narcissist, he really thinks hes the king of this department

-hes wrong its actually hana thats the captain of this department

-nobody likes him

daniel

-actually used to be a clerk! the face was a little different then before but hey, thats fine

-the third pure bean

-hes a really good friend to have!

susan

-what can i say about her?

-well i mean

-shes susan

central command team! (aka where is everyone? (due to there being not many agents here))

geminiano

-the most sane one in the facility (while being the dead inside captain)

-really good when it comes to tech

-”oh sh** did anyone check on mika?”

charlotte

-the bald employee, doesn’t mind being bald, that just means she can take care of the “your bald” abnormality

-”ignore the second mouth i got on my armour, please”

-plays vibe games on roblox

mika

-absolutely. chill

-doesn’t know where he’s going most of the time

-the one that works on child of galaxy everytime

gimtteol

-really bad sight, she doesn’t mind it

-kalm

-nobody can spell her name right

arang (prefers ayang)

-you thought sobin was the edgelord huh? think again

-easily annoyed.

-also was a clerk before

john

-the newbie!

-hes trying okay?

-hes still a little nervous but thats fine!

disciplinary team! (aka f**k (also nicknamed “why do we have red” due to me choosing little red riding hooded mercenary every run where theres disciplinary))

ara

-angy

-another person that takes their job way too seriously but doesn’t mean to

-not really that rude sometimes, but most of the time she can be a bit of an asshole, probably because of something that happened in the past, nobody wants to talk about it though

-lesbian

camille

-has a slightly torn snake tongue, it makes them not able to speak, they mostly make noises like growling,

-nobody knows why their like this, they just are, but dont be afraid to talk to them if you need anything! they usually write what their trying to say

-the expert, especially at finding things, even if they cant speak

tim

-another returning employee! wooooo

-still dead inside, but feeling a little bit better!

-might be the oldest out of everyone

welfare team! (aka “sleep tight” (nobody knows why its called that)

space

-very calm, most of the time doesn’t mind anything, but still does get a little nervous at times

-nobody knows why her eyes are always closed, (ara specified that her eyes look like a galaxy that can only be opened for a couple of seconds because if she opens them for more than a few seconds they’ll start to glitch, when others see it happening, it looks like the galaxy is becoming more like an image other than a real galaxy, parts of the galaxy become misplaced and reverted back to their original place quickly repeatedly (kinda like the select thing in paint, usually in the shape of the rectangular selection though) and parts of the galaxy turn into static and back very quickly and repeatedly. we she sees it happening her vision becomes the same as how other people see the galaxy when it starts glitching, randomly shifting from original place to different place, or from static back to normal, some ominous, glitchy sounds have been heard when this is happening aswell, (i thought of this because of a small dream(?) i had when i was in a certain state of almost about to fall asleep, maybe i was napping i dont really know, it was a strange dream, i dont remember much of it which is expected, i think it was something about discord and some sort of strange thing that had a little timer on it, and after it was done the thing it was in started glitching, the background it was in and even the button that used to be the timer was glitching, i heard some sounds that were glitching a little (it looked like those screens you see when someone’s streaming something on there,) and then i woke up, yeah kinda weird,)

-like eugene, cares for everyone! especially ara, since space herself is the one who helps ara through tough times

courtney

-gets bored alot, just wants to work on the difficult abnormalities

-really snarky

johnson

-a smartass

-yet still a little friendly if they trust you

-i’ll upgrade them soon dont worry (i have upgraded them/him dont worry)

woop!

i’ll probably update this soon, but in the meantime have this, sorry for being dead lately, on both this and my sideblog

#rooty goes onto lobotomy corporation #lobotomy corp #lobotomy corporation

3 notes · View notes

quinintheclouds · 4 years

Text

Thoughts on Putting Others First: SvS Redux as they come to me

AN HOUR LONG?!?!?! Y E S THANK YOU

I am LOVING this opening art style. The way it shows all the things Thomas could say and shuts them each down, the silliness tying in perfectly to the video game setting, the way we could SO STRONGLY empathize with Thomas despite him not saying anything. Well done!

“Eff friends, Patton!” Patton and I made the exact same gasp and noise at the same time in reaction to that dsjfhljdhg

Lookit Thomas’ lil vest awww <3

ROMAN WITH THE PUNS I LOVE IT APPRECIATE HIM

rhymes

they’re rhyming is this gonna be

A SONG!!!

(Logan off somewhere watching all of this: “You guys are doing a RAP? Without ME? .....Unacceptable”)

Seriously poor Logan being left out BOTH TIMES despite clearly having excellent points on the matter

But I’m loving this Patton/Roman dynamic being explored in this way. They have a lotta similarities but the differences are really standing OUT so far and I like it! Also it looks like Roman isn’t gonna just shut up and do whatever Patton says out of fear that he’s a bad person/bad for Thomas this time. I’m glad they’re both getting a chance to talk cause they aren’t exactly taken seriously a lot of the time.

RETURN OF THE BLINDFOLD METAPHOR followed by Roman saying “in Patton’s defense...” so they like, KNOW what Deceit meant about the blindfold? Were they playing dumb? Or do they just suddenly get it now that it’s coming from Thomas?

Ok this Feral Cat Story of Roman’s is too specific for me to dismiss and now I’m convinced either Remus brought a shitton of cats home one day and they just flooded their house/rooms, or Patton brought home a bunch of cats out of love and didn’t realize he couldn’t take care of em...either way that’s an adorable anecdote

The car jump line that Patton took literally is just making me miss Logan even more :(

I’m glad they’re giving context to the relationship between Thomas and Mary Lee & Lee! A lot of fander questions and opinions circled back to “well it depends how close they were” so it was smart of them to fill us in.

“those baby-makin’ catholics”

6:45 Patton has clearly thought through a lot of possible outcomes to talking to Lee and Mary Lee before going to the wedding... he never brought them up, even when Roman did and then Deceit did. But he’s bringing up points no one had addressed, and I think that’s a great way to put more intensity to Patton’s apology to Thomas for lying back in SvS pt 1. He hid a lot more than he let on. Man, how much guilt is this poor man feeling right now? :(

“Talking about it could have been harmful” I’m very intrigued by the parallels between Patton wanting to keep things from Thomas’ friends to protect their feelings in this episode and SvS, and Deceit disguised as Patton in CLBG trying to get Thomas to... keep things from his friend to protect their feelings...

WOAH “But was it worth it? I don’t--” “No.” Thomas cutting Roman off with that much certainty DAMN Thomas REGRETS going to the wedding HARD and also is agreeing with Roman finally??

Patton: “sometimes you can make all the good choices, and still not get the good ending.” Thomas: “I’m not even sure there was a good ending to get.” Roman: “Mmmm, I’m pretty sure there was.” There is so much to unpack here oh my gosh.

WOAH WOAH WOAH WHAT??? DAMN THOMAS CAME FOR PATTON WHAT ON EARTH??? Patton: “I think we can all agree that you are a good fellow.” Thomas: Can we? ALL? Agree on that?” Patton: *sputtering noises*

Poor Patton... I mean they’re right but gosh I feel for him. He wants so badly for Thomas to be a good person and he realizes now how strict and unyielding he’s been, and wants to not do that but doesn’t know how to be more lenient without sacrificing integrity cause that’s his JOB and he doesn’t know how to do it better aaaa this is such a mood

MUSIC IS THERE ANOTHER SONG COMING?

Return of the bagel. Except this time it’s Roman guessing/wanting the bagel and Patton being like “what? no?”

ok not a song but video game style is back!!

“ugh you’re such a dad” I love it

Patton just made more puns and Roman omg “Like, you’re SUCH a dad that like it’s too much to handle sometimes”

I am loving this whole scene jdfhjadshg Patton ily and I relate

Thomas and Roman teaching Patton how to come up with imaginary scenarios skjfklsjdfh

Sondheim wrecking Leslie Odom Jr is such a hilarious visual

Ok all three of them are peak dumbass and I’m so here for it (like they’re smart and all but they’re peak dumbass)

Daaaamn Patton is letting out so much this episode. Like he’s been holding back but wowie. R: “Just like how you didn’t HAVE to give him a hotdog” P: *sucks air through his teeth* “I feel like you kinda do though?” YES PLEASE let’s discuss the concept of obligation in morality again!!! Where’s Logan when you need him? Or Deceit even? (I feel like D’s gonna show up later but I wanna hear Logan’s thoughts this time too)

Patton: You can disagree! But... it’d kinda be wrong?

LOGAN POPUP! Ok fine if he isn’t in the ep at least he pops up in a lil dialogue box on screen. Also he popped up to support Patton... neat!

“It’s just me, Logan. I’ve taken this form because I didn’t want to be too...invasive.” POOR LOGAN NO YOU’RE NOT INVADING ANYTHING YOU HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE HERE! Also Roman getting scared by the popup while Patton just waves happily like he always does upon seeing Logan aww

Okay I am getting serious DOPAMINE from Logan talking. Like, he’s spittin’ FACTS. Something about the way he talks is so interesting and soothing and makes me so excited to LEARN. Roman mockingly mouthing ‘behoove’ had me snort though XD

LOGAN AND I WERE IN UNISON HELL YEAH! Patton was all like ooh you’re sharing your lil factoids! And Logan and I at the same time corrected, “Facts,” and proceeded to state the definition of factoids (we worded it differently but yeah as usual Logan is on my wavelength)

Logan’s sprite getting so disappointed at Thomas’ interruption joke jgdkjghks he looks so DONE

OML I LOVE LOGAN’S DIALOGUE BOX TALKING TOO FAST FOR THEM TO READ THIS IS SO ACCURATE

Oof Thomas finally feeling like he GETS it and Patton being like yeah but not if you’re doing it bc you want to feel good tho... (also that’s the same argument Deceit made in SvS pt1??? I’m confused by Patton/Deceit’s functions lately and I’m very invested)

Oh ok Thomas just brought up that very point haha

“we all agreed the right thing to do was go to the wedding” um are u sure about that

“I was wrong” PATTON CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?? I know Logan has the reputation of not being able to admit when he’s wrong (which isn’t true -- he doesn’t like to but he has done so countless times...well not literally countless but you understand my meaning), but Patton rarely is in a situation where he has to, so this is jarring in a hopefully good way. Istg if this is Deceit disguised as Patton again I’ll be so disappointed... I feel like the writers wouldn’t do that though

Patton: says smth deceit said. Roman: and you...agree? Patton: Definitely! I mean uh maybe? (WHAT IS HAPPENING INSIDE PATTON’S HEAD RN SO MUCH TURMOIL)

Roman: “I’m not an expert in the... moral medium” Thomas: “Go ahead Roman, we wanna hear what you have to say.” Patton: *halfhearted gestures and noises for roman to go ahead* jashfjdh he’s trying so hard

AWWWW they’re validating Roman so much I love it

“whomstsoever” ok I take it back roman’s not valid

I adore Logan’s popup fun facts, and him giving definitions for Roman’s vocabulary reminds me how much the two of them love writing and poetry and language aaaa

Patton trying not to be harsh is somehow 10x harsher than he normally is

oh wow that got real.

I know I’ve said this but I love logan’s insertions... but I do wish he got to say them out loud like earlier :/ Pausing to read them is less fun than hearing him talk.

oh wow that got real part 2

I want. So badly. To jump into this video and debate Patton on the nature of morality and what “the right thing is.” Roman you’re not being dumb, you’re bringing up excellent points and you’re valid again.

Oh no Patton... empathy is not morality... please please address that there are people who can’t experience empathy and choose to be moral and good

THE TROLLEY PROBLEM HERE! WE! GO!

Logan’s popups bc he doesn’t want to “be too invasive” and making them optional to read hurts my heart :( He knows Patton, Roman, and Thomas aren’t reading any of it but he doesn’t want to be too much so he stays silent. Why?? Logan it’s okay! Why is this a thing now but not in the last 2 episodes? What happened to Logan :(

OOOOOOH Patton didn’t flip the switch :o Interesting! Daaaamn he’s arguing to let 5 people die rather than flip the switch so only one dies

LOGAN’S TEXTBOX WAS SO BIG AND FAST IT KNOCKED PATTON OVER I CANNOT BREATHE hang on I gotta read it

HE’S TALKING ABOUT DEONTOLOGY YES LOGAN THANK YOU FOR TELLING PATTON WHAT I PHYSICALLY CANNOT please tell me you’ll talk about utilitarianism and moral particularism next

Okay he used consequentialism but it’s close enough to utilitarianism that the outcome is the same. (Do you get it? Do you like my joke about how the outcome is most important? When we’re talking about-- oh you got it already? Good, moving on.)

DID ROMAN JUST FJCKING KILL LOGAN

“I’m okay, figment of your imagination, so.” Okay so CAN the Sides get hurt or can’t they?? Cause Patton clearly got bonked, roman got hit in the eye with paper and said ow, but logan got hit in the head with a throwing star and had his teeth ripped out and he was totally fine?

Thomas is being so HONEST with himself so early in the episode, wow this is refreshing and I’m hype

AW YAY Patton called textbox Logan in to help with philosophy yay :’)

Logan: “Pity seems to be at the center of your idea of ‘putting good into the world’” first, Logan doing a voice impression of Nietzsche is GOLD, and second.... I wish they’d let him finish cause I was waiting for a “but” cause Logan siding with Nietzsche on this one feels... wrong? Like I could see Dee bringing it up or Logan using it in an argument only to continue with a contradicting philosophy but Logan equating empathy to pity... idk I thought he’d grown more than to think that :/ Actually I don’t think he ever saw it that way. It feels out of character but I’m guessing he had more to say to debunk that.

HOLY SHIT PATTON SKIPPED ALL THE REST OF LOGAN’S DIALOGUE AND YEETED HIM OFF THE SCREEN bruh he may have been right and he should’ve gotten to say it >:(

ROMAN ISTG DO NOT TRY AND MAKE THIS YOUR FAULT

I SAID DON’T

GODDAMMIT

sjfkdjgjsh okay aww Thomas good job, Patton too. Thank god they’re being nice to him

Patton is having a breakdown holy heckity about time

damn Patton is freaking HARSH

“I have a difference in opinion on this one, Patton” Thomas: *relieved sigh whisper* “ohhh thank you, Logan” YES APPRECIATE THE BOY YES YES I LOVE HIM why are they looking around like he isn’t making sense?

LOGAN YES! CALL HIM OUT! LET THOMAS VALUE HIMSELF AND PUT HIMSELF FIRST SOMETIMES! “Every point you’ve made in today’s discussion has contradicted that sentiment.” I love you but also you sound a lil like deceit... very lawyer-y and feels calculated like he’s been keeping notes for this purpose... I want deceit and logan to debate already damn it. Maybe it’s just that Logan’s inflections feel reminiscent of Deceit to show...something?

Ok can I just say that Logan gets so much rep for his strictness or high standards but he’s been SO GOOD about that lately and him teaching about the importance of leisure and self-care and freedom in your life and self-esteem and valuing yourself like you do with others... not even just this video -- he’s been like this in the last few as well and these recent episodes remind me of early Logan (esp My Negative Emotions) and that makes my heart so so happy.

Continuation of the above, compare this to how Logan acted in Why Bed? with regards to Roman. Roman advocated for leisure time and following dreams, while Logan had a schedule that optimized productivity and health. Now he’s taking a similar stance to Roman and asserting the importance of these things... WHY is so much of Logan’s character development OFFSCREEN?? I wanna know what made him switch on this! Maybe just cause he’s listening to roman from why bed?

Why is Logan being so abrasive? He sounds like his intent is more to disprove Patton rather than state what he actually thinks... not a fan of that but he’s not wrong

WOAH WOAH TOTAL PATTON BREAKDOWN WHAT HAPPENED WHAT THE FCK HE’S A LITERAL MONSTER IN THIS VIDEO GAME?

OH, MY GOD. If Logan didn’t step in and save them here this would have been catastrophic. I can feel my relief. I mean, he screamed, but it was a relief. WAIT IT WAS DECEIT THE WHOLE TIME??? Daaaamn good job on this one Deceit and I definitely like him more now but also WHERE IS LOGAN. Was it the whole time? That makes sense in hindsight and makes me feel better about some things he’s brought up but I feel like it really was Logan at the start, it wasn’t until he started calling out patton that his voice and inflection and stuff changed

Patton trying to attack Deceit and hitting Thomas instead was an EXCELLENT way to showcase the effect SvS 1 and 2 are having

Deceit’s lil “A DUH DUH DUH DOY” looked and sounded just like Logan’s lmao don’t tell me it’s another switcheroo (I doubt it greatly lol)

REAL LOGAN REAL LOGAN REAL LOGAN

So wait what was the point that Deceit switched with Logan? Cause Logan’s saying “one more fact” so he was himself earlier right?

“Not that any of you care, but I am unharmed.” Nooooo they care </3 “I will do you all a favor and spare you my company” okay OUCH

EFFECTIVE ALTRUISM YES aw he’s talking about him and patton working together yes thank you

Damn, Deceit is LOVING everything Logan says haha same

Logan and Deceit teaming up to teach Patton that it’s okay to care about yourself

DECEIT WHAT he’s being so supportive of Roman holy heck this is so genuine OH Roman’s arguing with it this is a lot of stuff I didn’t expect roman to say out loud wow

THOMAS JUST SAID DECEIT THE CHARACTER ISN’T INHERENTLY UNETHICAL WOW this episode really said let’s make Deceit--

WAIT WOAH SORRY HIS NAME REVEAL!!! He’s Janice?? Is that true?

WAIT WOAH PART 2 BUT DECEIT JUST SAID IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE MUSTACHE HE WOULDN’T KNOW WHO THE EVIL TWIN IS BETWEEN ROMAN AND REMUS HOLY SHIT HE ACTUALLY LOOKED VULNERABLE AND THEN HURT AND THEN RIGHT BACK TO SNAKE

ROMAN’S GONE

fuck.... patton...roman....deceit....thomas....logan....I’m gonna go cry about all of them now

LESLIE ODOM JR IS HERE??????? oh there he goes

patton oh my god I love you this ANGST are you trying to kill me?

Patton telling thomas he’s worthy of love I actually teared up

dfjdakjhfa deceit don’t push it

Wowie that was an EPISODE

#ts putting others first #SvS redux #sanders sides svs #janice sanders #quinpost #ts spoilers

65 notes · View notes

angelic-holland · 4 years

Text

TMO Epilogue

“Love, that is the only thing that can occupy and fill eternity. In the infinite, the inexhaustible is requisite.” - Victor Hugo

Warnings: fluff and mild angst

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: You and Tom attempt to navigate your shocking revelation.

A/N: wowie! thank you all for the love and interest in this series! I’ll be posting the alternate epilogue soon but I hope you all enjoy this one <3

The Birth

“Good job, love, keep pushing, oh my god, okay, I think I see the head,” Tom says, pulling away from your hand.

You let out a shrill cry, pushing with all of your strength, “you think?”

You start to panic, feeling overwhelmed as your body feels like it’s getting torn up from the inside out.

“That’s it love! You got it! He’s, oh my god, he’s here,” Tom shouts, looking up at you with wide eyes as you finally push your baby out, small cries filling your guest bedroom.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, your head falling back onto the pillow and your eyes closing shut as Tom cuts the umbilical cord, swaddling your child in a blanket as he continues to cry.

“He looks just like you,” Tom says as your knees fall shut and Tom brings the baby over to you.

You force your eyes back open, smiling as Tom sits next to you, holding your kid in his arms.

“Tom, oh god we don’t even have a name for him yet,” you whine as you take him into your arms, a part of you, 50% of your DNA, a beautiful child that is yours, yet you haven’t even come up with a name for him yet. Your mind starts to race with intruding thoughts, that you’re going to be a bad mother. That going through with the pregnancy was a horrible idea. Even your mother probably had a name for you before she gave birth to you.

“It’s okay, he won’t even remember today, what do you think we should name him?” Tom asks, slowly wiping your forehead with a towel.

“Trevor,” you reply. The name comes out of nowhere, you aren’t even sure you said it until Tom repeats the name twice.

“The name we came up with when we first met,” Tom smiles, “it’s perfect.”

“Hi Trevor, I’m your mommy, and this is your daddy, and we love you so much my sweet boy,” you smile, feeling tears well in your eyes.

You finally felt like you things were falling into place, even though you had worries, that you might fall into the same rut your mother fell into, that Tom is 10 times the man your father is, and he would be there for you in a way your father never was.

Looking down at Trevor with Tom’s arm around your shoulder, you feel like your life is just beginning.

***

9 Months Old

Tom and you are sitting on opposite ends of the living room, you with Trevor’s soft blue blanket, Tom holding onto Trevor as his legs begin to kick up.

You’ve been waiting for this day for a month or so, Trevor’s first steps.

“Come on Trev, you got this,” you praise, watching as Trevor gets solid footing on one foot, his hands reaching out in front of him to pick himself up.

“Should I let go? I don’t want him to fall on his face,” Tom worries, his eyebrows turning in.

You nod, “doing so great sweetie,” you praise Trevor, “come to mommy!”

Tom let’s go of Trevor, letting him begin to walk on his own.

“Mom-ma!” Trevor shouts, feet padding along the carpet, hands reaching out toward you.

The space is small and Trevor gets to you in no time, both of you falling into a fit of giggles as he crawls into your lap, tugging at your shirt.

“Do you want to try walking over to daddy now?” you laugh, helping Trevor stand up again.

“Dadda!” Trevor shouts, clapping his hands together as he begins to walk toward Tom.

You both watch in glee as Trevor continues to walk across the room toward Tom, clapping happily when he got to him and Tom snugly wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into his chest.

“Next step, swimming,” Tom chuckles, both of you grinning as Trevor gets up and starts moving around the living room again.

“If the ocean tide doesn’t wash us all away by then,” you murmur, knowing Tom nor Trevor can hear you. You say it in a joking tone, but you can’t help but feel the smallest part of yourself wonder how life would be different if it was actually Tom that you killed.

***

3 Years Old

“What are we supposed to do, Tom? We’re wanted by the FBI,” you say with a low voice, trying not to wake up Trevor.

He’s sleeping soundly with his blanket curled in his fist, the first day on his big kid bed, one that’s still low on the ground but with only a bed rail instead of four sides like his old crib.

“You’re the one who tried to kill me!” Tom shouts as you shut Trevor’s door quietly, scolding Tom for being so loud.

“Why do you think I tried to, Tom?!” You shout back, stalking down the hallway toward your bedroom.

“I don’t know,” Tom groans, his hand running across his face in frustration as you sit on the bed and he follows.

“I knew something was wrong the moment we got back to Idaho. It wasn’t confirmed until I booked a room at the hotel across from my place and I saw the agents setting up shop in my house.”

“So you should have told me! We could have run away together!”

“Why are we talking about this now?” You grumble, turning away from him.

“Because this is the first time we have had a chance to talk, to really talk since Trevor was born. And every time, every single time I attempt to talk to you about it, you ignore me, you change the subject.”

“Why do you think I change the subject Tom?” you cry, feeling his arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you tight into his chest as you sob.

“Shhh, it’s okay, we don’t have to-,”

“You tried to kill me first. You think I- you think I didn’t stay up night after night trying to come up with some way to keep you safe, make sure you didn’t suffer that didn’t end with me killing you?”

“I never meant to hurt you, y/n, to try to kill you. That day, you have to understand, it was the worst day of my life.”

“It wasn’t by chance, you know, loving you,” you reply, turning your head to kiss Tom’s cheek, “it was both the best and worst decision I’ve ever made.”

“What do you mean?”Tom asks, furrowing his eyebrows as you turn in his lap, resting your head against his chest so you can feel the rise and fall of his heartbeat.

“Do you think I-, when I met you, I knew I shouldn’t have done anything. I know I shouldn’t have let myself get caught up in any feelings. I fucking knew this but I chose to fall for you anyway,”

“Why would you chose to fall for me of all people?” Tom asks, feeling himself fumble with the idea of all the reasons why you should love someone else.

“You- you treated me not like I was some fragile broken girl, not like I needed to be fixed or put in place. You treated me, you still treat me with respect and dignity and that’s all I’ve ever asked for.”

“That’s just being a decent human…” Tom trails off.

“Shhh, ‘m not finished!” You kiss his nose as he falls back against the bed and takes you with him, “and the way you talked to Harry, about Harry, I know we’re both bad people and have done horrible, inexcusable things no matter the reasons we try to dig up, but the way you talked to him, I was sure that you’re not just a decent human, you’re an amazing one.”

“You don’t need to boost my ego, it’s just, I thought that we had things figured out, in the lake on the way back from Boston. I thought that no matter what happened when we got back from there, we would be together.”

“The FBI, I knew they were onto us after the fire… But when I talked to Jake one day, in this small coffee shop bakery thing, this guy was looking at us, I knew he knew exactly who we were. I was honestly surprised we lasted so long before they tracked us down completely. Before they found our places and were going to arrest us.”

“So why didn’t you tell me?” Tom pleads, cupping your cheeks and rubbing his nose against yours, a small gesture he does to calm himself down from time to time.

“For my entire life I was never able to trust anyone. I was always alone in this world. Alone when my parents treated me as a burden, alone when I got caught up with Jake and that mess. When I met you, for the first time in my life I wasn’t alone.”

“Y/N, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because! For the first time I wasn’t alone. Do you know how fucking terrifying that was for me? My entire life I went thinking I was always going to be alone, that I’d never be able to find someone who loved me, who I could love back. And you come along and change my entire mindset.”

“I did that?”

You swallow thickly and nod, “you did that. God, Tom, I love you so much I was terrified by it.”

“I love you,” Tom replies, “I love you, I love you.”

You smile softly at Tom’s repetition, knowing it makes him feel safe, makes him feel whole, and in return, it makes you feel safe.

“But you aren’t terrified by it anymore?” Tom asks, brushing a strand of hair from your eyes.

“No, it’s… It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me… Other than Trevor,” you pick your head up to listen to the gentle snores of your child as Tom grins.

“When do you think it’s too early to teach him how to swim?” Tom chuckles, holding you tight to his chest as you begin to fall asleep.

“The water right outside our back door probably means we should teach him now,” you mumble sleepily.

“Now?” Tom says, the skin of his knuckles brushing up and down your back, “I think it’s a little late for that.”

“Shhh,” you squeeze your eyes shut, “we need to get him swim trunks.”

“How about Scooby doo ones?”

***

6 Years Old

The best part about going into hiding as a fugitive, nobody was looking for a mom with a child. Trevor was the best thing that has ever happened to you. He looked so much like Tom when he was born, it was insane. He had his eyes, his nose, his uniquely large ears. When he was born, in the bathtub of the house you bought, Tom cradled him in his arms and neither of you really thought of names before that moment. The moment when you rested your head on Tom’s shoulder and he held your child in his arms for the first time. The name came to you easily, as you remembered the first few days you and Tom spent together. You remembered Tom’s smooth midwestern accent, his alias.

“Trevor,” you whisper, one hand cupping the back of your baby’s head as he cooed.

“Trevor, Trevor Samuel Johnston, has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” Tom says later that night as you fall asleep to the sound of ocean waves.

“Sounds perfect.”

You bought this place after you found out the FBI was tracking you and Tom. Inconspicuous, creaking blue shutters and an eggshell colored exterior, a porch with a rocking chair. It was tucked away amongst other houses that all looked the same but slightly unique in the small village in the Marshall Islands. Nobody questioned the three of you, one small happy family starting their life here.

Tom is out grocery shopping while Trevor does his morning newspaper run, ending back up at your house.

You press the cool glass of the pressed flower into your palm as you wait for Trevor to come riding back down the cobblestone path.

“Mom! What kinda flower is that?” Trevor shouts, waving at you as he tosses his bike to the side.

He holds out his hands and you let him cup the flower in his hand for a moment. He took in the dark purple that curled along the curve of each petal, the pinkish red as it neared the core, turning to a light greenish yellow.

“It’s called a black hollyhock.”

“What’s it mean?”

“It’s about taking a situation in which you feel powerless, and letting the energy of the flower transform you.”

“It’s pretty,” he smiles, handing it back to you.

“Come on in, let’s get you something to cool down, how was the newspaper run today?” you press the cool glass into your palm, flipping it over a few times.

“It was good, can I have an ice pop?” He asks excitedly as you run your hands through his curly brown hair.

That was something you missed about Tom, ever since that night he kept his head shaved. He was gorgeous either way, but you understood why he needed to keep his head shaved.

It helped him feel safe, your names were still on the FBI’s most wanted list, any second they could show up at your doorstep, arresting both you and Tom.

So if Tom wanted to shave his hair, hell, you’d let him shave it.

“Of course, what kind?” you ask, following Trevor into the house.

“Blue raspberry! Duh! Our favorite!” Trevor laughs, holding his arms up when you reach the kitchen counter.

You lift him up, nodding, “our favorite.”

His legs swing out in front of him as you search the freezer for two ice pops, tearing both of them open for the two of you.

“Cheers!” Trevor laughs, tapping his ice pop against yours.

“Cheers,” you laugh along, finding comfort in the blue food dye that stains both of your lips as you wait for Tom to come home.

***

8 Years Old

“What’s all this?” You giggle, squeezing Tom’s hand as he pushes open the sliding back door of your house.

“A date,” Tom says, picking up the picnic basket from the porch after he dragged you outside.

“But Trevor-,”

“Trevor is asleep, plus, I got the baby monitor out of the attic and if anything happens, if he wakes up,” he shakes the picnic basket, indicating that the other part of the baby monitor is inside of it.

“Date night,” you grin.

“Been wanting to do this for years,” Tom chuckles, guiding you down to your private beachfront, “so, I’ve got sparkling cider,” he says, pulling out a big beach towel, the one you always lay on while Tom and Trevor swim.

You take a seat next to Tom, shrugging off your cover up and tightening your bikini top.

“My favorite,” you smile, and it’s genuine. You didn’t keep alcohol in the house, it was a small argument and an issue after Trevor was first born, but you knew what Tom needed. He needed a place where he didn’t have to think of alcohol and the thing that took his family away from him. You could give him that, god, if there was one thing you could give Tom, it would be a safe space.

Tom pours both of you a glass, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“What’s this?” you ask, peeking at the fruit tucked away next to the baby monitor.

“Papaya,” Tom smiles, “your high school, uh, was it English?”

“History teacher.”

“History teacher said this place has the best papayas, ‘fraid we’ve been running around like crazy trying to start a life here for us, to make us as inconspicuous as possible, that we never got the chance to have the one thing that made you buy this home in the first place.”

“Thank you,” you mumble as Tom starts to cut open the papaya.

He feeds you the first piece, raising an eyebrow as your eyes crinkle and your face scrunches up.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Tom asks, sitting up and bringing you with him.

“Mrs. Meade was so wrong about papaya being good,” you shake your head, placing the fruit down.

“No way,” Tom grabs a piece, wanting to try it for himself.

When he swallows his piece he coughs, clutching his chest as you rub his back.

“Told ya.”

“Mhm,” Tom groans, pulling you up.

“Where’re we going?” You ask, turning back to the baby monitor, “Trevor is-,”

“Trevor is fine,” Tom assures you, squeezing your hand three times.

“One second,” you say, breaking away from him and grabbing your glass, finishing off the sparkling cider.

“What’s that for?” Tom asks, pulling off his T-shirt and throwing it back on the towel.

“Papaya was incredibly disappointing,” you laugh, handing him his glass so he can wash away the taste as well.

You don’t shiver as you step into the water, it’s warm and inviting as Tom follows you out.

“I’ll never get over how great this ocean is,” you laugh, splashing around at the very clear water as Tom pulls you into his arms.

“It is pretty great huh?” Tom rubs his nose against yours, letting you rest your forehead against his shoulder as he holds you tightly to him, drifting further out to sea.

“How’d you know?” You murmur, “how’d you always know?”

“I know you better than you know yourself,” Tom replies, he knows what you’re talking about, neither of you need to voice it, “you’re the one person I know more than myself. You let me know you more than I know myself. Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

You’re grateful for him, for always being one step ahead of you, for choosing to be by your side after everything that’s happened.

Tom pulls you in for a papaya and sparkling cider flavored kiss, something you haven’t stopped thinking about since the cold lake in Utah almost nine years ago. You’re grateful that the rather repugnant fruit taste is almost disappeared from your taste buds.

“I love you,” he murmurs, keeping his lips against yours.

“I love you,” you reply, holding him tight in the warm water, the moonlight rippling off the waves.

“I love you,” Tom repeats, pulling you tight into his arms like he wishes he did that night almost nine years ago. Both of you wonder what your life would be like if he kept you safe all that time ago instead of pushing you away. But looking back on it, with one happy, healthy boy and the love of your life you wouldn’t have changed any of the moments leading up to get you to where you are right now.

***

Taglist: @gioandreolli @honeymoonparker @itsjusttor @averyfosterthoughts @worldoftom @angelhaz11 @rebekkah4766 @murdermornings

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff

74 notes · View notes