#but no exclamation marks at all somehow seems sarcastic

[mariana-oconnor]

The eternal struggle of balancing the number of exclamation marks on the tightrope of 'just enough enthusiasm' between the chasms of 'apathetic soulless automaton' and 'overly peppy and clearly unhinged'.

[animesmolbean]

A World of Pure Imagination

Author's Note: This chapter is so soft and fluffy!!! It makes me so happy!! I'm very proud of this chapter!

Side note: Once again, Timothée is making me soft with this GIF! Ahh, I love his Wonka!

Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! ♥️

Chapter 9: Gift Exchange

"He came back?!"

Noodle dragged her cart away from the laundry. Willy was hidden in a laundry bag along with Yin, and the other workers.

"Yes, Noodle. Yin and I set a trap, and he walked right into it!" Willy replied.

"That's why Yin was with Willy last night." Noodle muttered to herself. Then she spoke again, addressing Willy, "So where is he?"

"We had a fight, you see. He won. Hit me on the head with a frying pan and jumped out the window." Willy replied.

"Of course he did." Noodle's tone was sarcastic.

She stopped the cart in the quiet alley just out of sight of the laundry. Willy emerged from his laundry bag.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

Noodle shook her head. "Honestly? No."

One by one, the other emerge from their bags.

"No." Piper.

"No." Abacus.

"No." Larry.

"Definitely not." Lottie.

But then, Yin emerged from his bag. "Well, I believe you, Willy."

Everyone looked at the young man in surprise.

"Really?" Piper said, confusion written on her face.

"You really believe this tale?" Abucus asked.

Yin stood up and hopped out of the laundry cart. "Yeah. Willy doesn't seem like the lying type." He replied simply.

Willy looked at Yin with a soft look. "Thank you, Yin." He said to him.

Yin hummed and nodded at the cute, curly haired chocolatier.

Noodle jumped in. "But, as it so happens, we don't need to sell chocolate today."

Willy turned to look at Noodle, crestfallen look on his face. "And why is that?"

Noodle looked at Yin and smirked at him knowingly. Yin blushed lightly and looked at Willy. "You know that shop? The one you've been dreaming of? Well..." Yin pulled out a key from his pocket and jingled it in front of Willy, a smile on his face.

Willy's eyes lit up with surprise.

(Transition)

Willy opens the door, scarcely able to breathe. The shop has seen better days. Paint is peeling off the walls, and the ceiling has fallen in, sending it an old chandelier crashing to the floor - but it's still somehow magical.

Willy looked around, speechless. The others follow him in.

Abucus spoke up. " Now I know what you're thinking. It may need a little work.."

" If that's a joke, it's not funny. And I know not-funny." Larry said.

Piper fit two ends of a cable together. The lights come on. "Looks like someone left the water running, and the ceiling fell through. And ceiling above that. And the ceiling above that!"

"But that means we can afford it - for a week, anyway." Abucus stated.

"And we'd finally be legitimate. The police would have no excuse to keep bothering us." Lottie piped up.

Noodle and Yin looked anxiously at Willy. He still hadn't said a word.

"What do you think, Willy? Do you like it?" Yin asked, tone nervous as he fiddled with his bracelet.

Willy looked at the young man. " Do I like it?! Yin, it's just how I always imagined. No. Scratch that. It's better than I imagined."

Willy looked around the dilapidated building that was filled with many possibilities.

"I mean, look at this place! I mean, sure, it's a wreck, but look at the potential, the bones!"

Abucus chuckled at Willy's exclamation.

"Mark my words, this is going to be the best chocolate shop the world has ever seen!"

Piper whooped, clapping.

Willy turned to Noodle. "You won't be scrub scrubbing much longer, Noodle. We'll all be free! As free as flamingos!"

Noodle was so overwhelmed with emotion that she ran towards Willy and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Willy hugged her back.

Everyone cheered.

Willy then looked at Yin with a toothy grin. "And you, my dear Yin. You won't have to worry about sneaking around anymore. You can stay with me." Willy proclaimed.

Yin was taken by surprise. "Really? Me and you?"

Willy nodded. "Me and you."

Yin let out a laugh and ran to Willy, wrapping his arms around Willy's neck. Willy, overcome with happiness, wrapped his arms around Yin's waist, lifting him up in the air and spun them around.

"Oh!" Yin squealed and laughed, making Willy laugh as well.

Everyone cheered with happiness.

(Time Skip to nighttime)

The group exited out the storm drain. Willy came out first, popping the storm drain lid off, and it landed on the ground with a thud that echoed through the alley. He didn't care, though. He was too excited. He helped Noodle and everyone else out. When he got to Yin, who was last, he grabbed his waist and helped him pull him out of the exit.

Once Yin was out, the group they made their way to the laundry cart to head back to the laundry.

Yin shivered when a gust of wind blew through the path of the alleyway.

"Are you cold?" Yin turned to Willy, who looked at the shivering young man with some concern. Yin, knowing he can't lie, nodded shyly. "Yeah."

Willy removed his magenta overcoat and placed it on Yin's shoulders.

"Willy, I can't let you do this. What if you get cold?" Yin protested gently.

"I would rather freeze than have you be cold." Willy whispered. Yin blushed lightly. "Thank you." He whispered back. Willy hummed at him.

Yin shyly slipped his arms into the sleeves of the overcoat and suppressed a hum at the soft feeling of the worn coat. Despite its state, it felt so comforting. It didn't help that it smelled of chocolate and vanilla.

'I wonder if this is what Willy smells like.' Yin thought to himself.

Yin shook his head at the thought.

"It looks good on you."

Yin turned to Willy. "What?" He whispered, wondering if he heard the man correctly. "My coat. It looks great on you. It really suits you." Willy said with a smile.

Yin blushed. "Oh... thank you." He replied shyly, smiling back at the beautiful chocolatier.

Willy blushed lightly as well. Then, in a bold move, he reached his hand out and held Yin's hand in his. "Let's go catch up with the others."

Yin only nodded, smiling shyly, way too caught off guard by the gesture to say anything. The two jogged over to the cart, holding hands.

When Yin went back to the room, Noodle could tell Yin was out of it, totally in love with Willy.

Yin fell asleep that night, wearing Willy's coat.

(Time skip)

The coming days were spent preparing Willy's chocolate shop for its grand opening. The days were spent selling chocolate, coming up with ideas for what to put in the shop, and creating the treats necessary for the shop.

One night, after a long day, Yin decided to visit Willy and talk to him about more ideas for the shop. He gently knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" The familiar sweet voice of Willy spoke behind the door.

"It's me, Yin."

"Come on in!"

Yin entered Willy's room.

"Hello, Yin! What brings you here?" Willy asked, smiling.

"Well... I was going to tell you some more ideas about the shop." Yin replied, playing with his bracelet.

Willy hummed. "That would be great! But first, I have something for you!" He said with excitement.

"You do?" Yin asked, surprised.

Willy hummed while nodding. "Close your eyes."

Deciding to amuse him, Yin did as he was told, smiling in anticipation. He heard Willy rustle around his room. He heard Willy approach him and place something soft into his hands.

"Can I open them?" Yin asked, getting excited.

"Yes! Open them."

When Yin opened his eyes, he looked down at his hands and gasped in surprise.

In his hands was a magenta overcoat, just like Willy's. The bright color was soft in the room lighting, the material soft. Yin looked over it to look at the details. It didn't have gold embroidery like Willy's did, but everything else matched the inventor's overcoat perfectly. If someone were to look at the two wearing the same coat, they would assume it's the same coat.

Yin looked at Willy, completely blown away and smiling sweetly. "Willy.... this is... this is beautiful."

Willy smiled at Yin's reaction. "Thank you so much! It's part of your new uniform. For the shop."

"Will everyone be wearing an overcoat like you?" Yin asked with a chuckle.

Willy chuckled as well. "No, no. Everyone's is different. Only you have this." He whispered, looking into Yin's eyes.

Yin blushed as he made contact with him. "Really?" He whispered.

"Really, really." Willy whispered back, a soft giggle escaping his lips.

Yin giggled back. "Guess that means I can't borrow your coat anymore." He teased.

Willy blushed lightly but chuckled softly, shaking his head, making his short but loose curls move side to side. Then, he looked at Yin again.

"You're always welcome to have my coat." He whispered, tone soft and sweet.

Yin blushed lightly. "Am I?"

"Yes, my dear Yin. Always welcome." Willy replied.

Yin smiled sweetly at Willy, gripping the new overcoat in his hands. He leaned closer to the chocolatier.

"You always know how to make me smile." He whispered. Then, he pressed a soft kiss onto Willy's cheek.

The chocolatier was stunned by the bold action. His cheeks were red, lips slightly open, and his hazel green eyes slightly wide in surprise.

After a couple of seconds, Willy looked at Yin, who was blushing at his own boldness.

"Yin...." He whispered, reaching his hand up to the boy's face, cupping his cheek, his thumb caressing the area.

The boy looked into Willy's eyes when he whispered his name. The two looked into each other's eyes for what felt like forever. Yin copied Willy and placed a hand on his cheek as well, thumb caressing the area.

Eventually, Willy got bold and leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto Yin's cheek as well. He pulled away to see Yin's reaction. Yin was blushing harder, but he could tell by his eyes that he loved it.

The pair leaned forward more, their foreheads pressed against each other's and subconsciously rubbed their noses together.

"May I stay with you tonight?" Yin asked softly.

Willy smiled softly. "Of course you can." He replied back just as softly.

Yin smiled, and Willy took his hand and pulled the lovesick boy over to his bed. Yin hung his new coat on the wall, next to Willy's, and sat down next to the just as lovesick chocolatier.

Willy removed his boots, and Yin went to remove his own, but Willy beat him to the punch and undid his laces, slipping the boots off. Yin blushed at the gentlemanly gesture, playing with his bracelet.

Then, he felt Willy pull him down onto the bed. Now, he was lying down, facing Willy. The adorable chocolatier pulled Yin closer.

"Soon, all our dreams will come true." Willy whispered.

"I can't wait." Yin whispered.

Yin placed his hands on Willy's chest as Willy wrapped his arms around Yin.

"Good night, Willy." Yin whispered.

Willy smiled softly, kissing the top of Yin's head, before whispering, "Good night, my darling Yin."

The pair fell asleep, holding each other, dreaming of chocolate, sweets, and each other.

[familyfriendlyweed]

late night snaps (quackity x reader)

a/n : before we get into the story, i wanted to thank you all for such support on my first post - i only posted it yesterday, and got a hell lot of likes and reblogs and even gained 23 followers, which is insane for me (or maybe i just don’t know how tumblr works, haha)! anyhow, i’m really happy you guys enjoyed it <3 

 it was 02:37 and you were editing your newest video. you had no idea it would take so long, though! even if you were used to staying up very late, you knew you have to put away your laptop and go get some sleep. 

 saving the video as a draft and shutting your computer off, you started to blindly search for your phone, since your eyes didn’t get used to the darkness yet. finally finding it, you turned it on to set an alarm for the next morning when you suddenly saw a snapchat notification from ten minutes ago. it was from Alex. you curiously unlocked your phone and tapped the little notification to be led straight to snapchat.

idiota : hello mamacita

 your face instantly lit up in a childish smile. you started to type your response eagerly like it wasn’t 2 am and you didn’t have online classes tomorrow. 

 you : why hello there, el señor

 you saw Alex’s silly bitmoji pop up as he started to type.  

 idiota : what is my chica bella doing up so late?

 you giggled, getting comfortable in your bed - this meant a long chatting session on its way.

 you : YOUR chica bella? when did that happen?

 idiota : ANSWER THE QUESTION!!!! >:((((

 you : fine you big baby, i was finishing editing a new video

 idiota : hmm i see, i see

 you : what about you though? u should get some sleep!!! :(((

 Alex’s bitmoji started typing, then stopped for some reason. you lifted your eyebrow at that. then he continued, but it took a while for him to finish.

 idiota : why, i just couldn’t fall asleep when you were on my mind all the time, mi amor

 your cheeks grew red in an instant. you knew you could handle jokes pretty well, but this was quite too much. Alex never got so far as to actually flirt with you.

 you : eh??? what drugs are u on

 idiota : the only drug for me is you mamacita

 you snorted. you had no idea if he was being serious or not, even if the second option was more likely.

 you : literally go to sleep wtf

 idiota : i’d sleep better if you were by my side ;)

 this was enough for you - you felt as if you got one more message like this from him, you’d die from the hotness in your cheeks. setting your phone down, you made your way to the bathroom before bed.

 you came back five minutes later, only to see your phone full of notifications from Alex. your heart was thumping really hard, you weren’t used to this, but you opened snapchat anyway.

 idiota : mamacita?

 idiota : ....

 idiota : mamacita, don’t joke w me like that

 idiota : did you really just leave me on read wtf

 idiota : i’m sad come back :(((

 and at last, there was a snap from him. you were quite scared at this point. with a shaking hand, you opened it.

 you laughed so hard that you seriously thought you’ll have a seizure. still laughing, you snapped a selfie with a cute filter on (you really thought you looked horrible at the moment), captioned it with “your chica bella had to take a piss u simp” and sent it to Alex.

 he opened the snap almost imediatelly and started typing afterwards :

 idiota : mamacita!!!! you look hermosa!!!!

 you : that’s because i have a filter on lmaoo

 idiota : mamacita don’t let yourself down, you are so beautiful :((

 you started to text a sarcastic reply, but stopped. for some reason, Alex seemed like he was being truthful. he wasn’t joking around when he called you beautiful, that was too affectionate.

 you : ...really?

 idiota : si, si! <3

 you tugged at your lip in a thinking manner. true, you had feelings for Alex, but you never thought he had something similar to you. or maybe... maybe he was just supporting you as a friend. figuring that was probably it, you texted :

 you : thank you quacker B]] ur also v handsome

 idiota : mamacita likes me!!!!!😍😍😍

 you smiled sadly. Alex was definitely playing around. you got lost in thought for a few moments, thinking about how would he act if he was actually in love with someone. would he, perhaps, be more mature? that would be very weird to look at.

 finally coming back to planet Earth, you looked at your phone only to see that Alex has written a shit ton of messages again :

 idiota : i want to see you, mamacita

 idiota : it’s fine if u don’t want to, you’re probably going to sleep anyway...

 idiota : but maybe let’s meet tomorrow?

 idiota : mamacita?

 idiota : ....

 idiota : i’m coming over <3

 your heart gave a leap of embarassment and surprise. why would he even say that?

 you : wait what

 you : wdym “i’m coming over”

 you : no tf ur not

 you : go to sleep

 idiota : doesn’t mamacita want to see muah???

 you : no, that would be awesome, but you should go to sleep, really :(

 idiota : y/n, i already told you, i can’t sleep when you’re on my mind

 you froze in spot, staring at your screen for what felt like an eternity. did he just call you by your name? you knew he only says it in serious situations. deciding to change your tactic, you started texting seriously :

 you : are you like... for real now?

 you : because i know you call me by my name in serious situations, but maybe it’s only a prank, so just answer me truthfully, okay?

 Alex started typing, it took even longer that before, but at last you saw his message, this time without caps, spammed question/exclamation marks, nothing silly at all :

 idiota : i am serious, y/n. believe me, this is not a prank. i just really wanna see you. 

 your heart skipped a beat or two, your face renewed its redness. you felt as if you were dreaming.

 you : okay... i’m really glad. come over, please

 idiota : thank you so much

 you started pondering in your head - how did this happen? how did this silly conversation turn out like this? 

 but what if Alex texted you because he wanted to come over in the first place? after all, he knew how shitty your sleep schedule was. that would be awesome, you thought, a small smile dancing on your lips.

 you checked the snap map only to see Alex about 100 meters from you. wait... what? 100 METERS??? was Alex near your place the moment he texted you for the first time?

 you jumped up, starting to tidy up your messy room up, only to remember you look like poop at the moment - hair messy, face tired, clothes scrunched. 

 exhaling heavily, you tried to change your appearance quickly - you ran into the bathroom, brushing your hair panickily. then you wrenched the makeup bag open and started to rummage through it trying to find some mascara or something...

 ding ding! 

 you froze, your eyes widened. he was already here, what the hell?!

 you quickly put on some mascara, ran into the hallway while brushing your face with your hands from stress (completely forgetting you have mascara on, somehow) and unlocked the door.

 Alex’s figure was dark, since the lightbulb in the corridor wasn’t working, and it almost gave you a fright. but as soon as he engulfed you in a warm hug, the tension in the pit of your stomach vanished. you hugged him back almost unsurely, but smiling.

 “hello, mamacita”

 you giggled. for some reason, you got the strongest urge to cry. probably from happiness, but it still was confusing to you. nevertheless, tears started running down your cheeks, mixing with mascara, probably making you look like you were going to a halloween dress up party. 

 “hey, why are you crying?” Alex asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

 “i look horrible.” you laughed, wiping your tears away.

 “nooo, why won’t you listen to me? i already told you you’re beautiful.” he said with a cute pout. 

 “alright, alright, i’m very beautiful, let me down now.” you said, noticing that he was still holding you in his arms tightly. 

 “whatever the chica bella says.”

 he put you down.

 “aren’t you going to turn on some light? i feel like i’ve gone blind!” Alex exclaimed jokingly and you giggled.

 “i’m like a bat, i hate much light, sorry. buuuut i could turn on this little lamp.” you said, making your way to your desk and turning on a cute little lamp the shade of warm pink.

 “perfect.” Alex said, eyeing you in light now. you thought he’ll make a comment about your awful mascara-stained face, but he said nothing, just smiling and looking at you in awe, like you were some princess in a ball dress instead of a tired college student in messy shorts, an oversized t-shirt and two different socks, because you couldn’t find a pair of the same ones.

 “perfect.” he repeated, shrugging with a smile on his face, like seeing you was everything he needed.

 you laughed and hugged him, muttering a “thanks for coming”. Alex didn’t hesitate and also hugged you, holding you as close as possible, as if he let go of you, he’d drown and would never come back to be by your side again. 

 little did you know, he felt the exact same way.

[daring-elm]

Patton texts in all lowercase and uses way too many emojis, he sends messages before checking for typos. He uses way too much punctuation, it's either fifteen periods or none, or six exclamation marks.

Logan uses perfect grammar, always ending with the correct punctuation, never using exclamation marks. He never sends two messages unless he forgot something in the previous message, which makes his texting large blocks of writing to work through. Especially Patton struggles with reading like that, so Logan tries to add paragraphs when texting him. He forgets a lot though. Emojis are hellspawns, but he will use emoticons rarely.

Virgil makes a lot of typos and takes at least a minute to fix every mistake for each message. He doesn't punctuate, ever, either sending 12 messages or one. He uses italics a lot, strikethroughs even more, and even the occasional bold. He will use emojis and emoticons, but never more than one a message.

Roman overuses exclamation marks. He rarely makes typos, but if he does, he doesn't notice until the message is sent. He uses emojis a lot, but somehow, they always seem fitting. He uses capslock and capitalises every other letter and is generally very good at conveying emotion. He gets offended at Logan's writing because it seems flat and sarcastic and he doesn't understand the way Logan tries to write.

[writerunsolved]

The Drunken Mistake - Ch. 4

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: F/M

Fandom: Real Person Fiction

Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Reader

Genres: Fluff and Humor

Language: English

Chapters: 4/?

Summary:  You're a young up-and-coming singer based in London who has just released her first album.

After a wild night at the VMAs and some heavy partying and drinking at the afterparty, you write and publish a drunken tweet about a certain celebrity and one of their friends. You only realise what you've done the next day when a slew of texts and calls wakes you up to a dreadful but expected hangover. You immediately delete the tweet, but you're left to deal with the consequences. A public apology would probably be enough to make everything go away if you hadn't been invited to a movie premiere where said celebrity is most certainly going to be.

You decide that the best course of action will be to try and avoid them, but your plans almost never go the way you want them to.

Author’s Note: I had hoped to release this chapter a lot earlier, but I won't lie, the new Tumblr strikeout put me out of sorts, and I had a rough couple of days. Writing Hiddleston has turned out to be a bigger challenge than I had previously anticipated, but I hope it can still feel genuine to the fic.  Thank you all for your great patience, and I hope you enjoy this one!

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3

Chapter Four - One Cheesy RomCom

-

After the premiere, life got back to the usual. Your workload somehow increased, even.

Seen as the event had been right in the middle of the week, the next day you were allowed a late morning, but had to be right back at work in the afternoon so you decided to grab a quick lunch from Caffé Piccolo, and make your way to the label offices a little earlier than when you were supposed to be there.

While you were at it, you also bought Nina a couple of her favourite doughnuts from the coffee shop, sure that she would appreciate them as a thank you for letting you sleep in even though she’d still had to go into work early in the morning.

You were pretty sure the first commitment of the day was a radio interview for BBC1. You usually got a car with Nina from the label building to the destination the interview would take place, but this time you were lucky enough to have been invited to one of the programmes that filmed in the same skyscraper where the label was located. The building also housed some recording studios for voice acting and music recording. It was there that you had recorded your entire first album as a published singer, and the place held huge sentimental value for you for this reason, despite looking like most unimpressive office buildings would.

As soon as you got there, you caught Nina in the lobby of the ground floor dictating what was sure to be a countless number of instructions to a spooked intern you’d never met before who was furiously taking notes.

You made your way to the two, carrying the paper bag full of steaming doughnuts in your hand.

“...and that needs to be done by 5:25 PM today. Got it?” was all you gathered from the tail end of the one-sided conversation Nina was having.

The intern looked at you then back at her and nodded fervently. “You can go now, Liam.” was all Nina said to dismiss him. At that point, she turned towards you, but before you had any chance to greet her, she eyed the paper bag and asked “Are those from Caffé Piccolo? Are they blueberry and cream cheese?” snatching them out of your hand.

Nina was already biting into one of the doughnuts when you spoke, in a sarcastic monotone “Don't mention it, Nina, you’re so welcome. I’m so glad you like them.”

She moaned around the huge bite in her mouth and when she finally swallowed it down she asked rhetorically, “How do they make them so good?!” then she bunched the top of the paper bag closed with another doughnut in it and announced, “I have news.”

“Oh?” you inquired.

“ Someone’s manager asked for your contact info,” she explained, “Thanks for the heads-up, by the way.”

“Oh my god! I completely forgot!” You hadn’t told her about your agreement with Tom the night before, so you apologised, “I’m so sorry, Nina. It totally slipped my mind. What did you tell them?”

“Well,” she began, “I gave it to her. I guessed that was the plan, considering the circumstances.”

“You are the goddess of order and knowledge!” You grabbed her before she could protest and squeezed her in a tight hug.

“Yes, yes, I know.” You were certain she was rolling her eyes. She patted your back weakly with her free hand and continued, “Now please, let me go. We have work to do.”

When you released her, Nina pulled out a business card from one of her back pockets and handed it to you with a “Here.” You stowed it away in your bag and resolved to enter the contact information in your phone as soon as you had a couple of minutes. Finally, Nina started walking towards the elevator, so you followed her up to the floor where your interview was going to take place.

It was a couple of hours before you could leave the recording booth of the radio. Between the waiting and the actual interview, the whole thing had run a bit later than expected, which luckily didn’t turn into a problem. As a matter of fact, your next appointment was for dinner with Nina and Nadia, and an agent from a fashion magazine.

You had been asked to give your input for an upcoming campaign you would be taking part in and be photographed for, and the dinner was the meeting to finalise the deal. Because Nadia was your personal stylist, she was also to be involved to make sure you were comfortable with the aesthetic of the photoshoot. These kinds of jobs didn’t usually require you to be so engaged in the decisional process, but you didn’t mind. You were actually quite enthusiastic about getting to work on the creative part of the project, rather than just standing in for the pictures.

Nevertheless, the dinner was the reason why a few hours went by before you could check your phone and finally type in Tom’s info.

At the end of the night, Nina dropped you off at your apartment building. While you waited for the elevator to get to your floor, you pulled out your phone from your bag, but before you could do anything else, you noticed you had a new message from an unknown number. It read: “ Hi. This is Tom, I thought I should let you know that my manager gave me your contact info. Hope you’re doing well, have a nice evening :) ”

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you shot back “ Hi! My manager also gave me your number earlier today, sorry for not letting you know before... It’s been a long day, but a good one. Hope your day was also good (: ”

You finally reached your floor, keeping your phone in your hand while opening the door, and soon enough it vibrated with another text.

“ I can’t say I worked as hard as you, I had a free day so I caught up with family. Unfortunately, the rest of the week won’t be as merciful… what about yours? ”

“ It’ll be just the usual, I guess, ” you typed fast, “ Some promotional work at the label and a couple of interviews here and there. What are your plans? ”

You took advantage of the wait for his answer to get undressed and ready for bed. Unlike that morning, you had to work early the next day and it was already past ten. Nevertheless, your mind kept drifting to the conversation you were having. It had been surprisingly easy to enter the conversation, you did it with almost no thought. It felt liberating to communicate this way - even though you didn’t know each other very well and you weren’t really expecting a conversation to start, it definitely did wonders for your shyness. And the exchange came strangely natural.

It reminded you of catching up with a friend you hadn’t seen in a while, even though the warmth in your chest that didn’t seem to want to go away was unquestionably a new feeling.

You pulled on a soft t-shirt you used as pyjamas, and finally settled in bed with your earphones in and some soft music to help the day flow out of you. You checked your phone and Tom had answered again.

“ I’ve been recruited for voice acting this time, ” his text read, “ It’s a fairly big project, I’ll be on the job for the next couple of weeks. ”

“ That sounds exciting! :D ” you sent back, “ Should I wait until you’re free again to schedule our promised dinner? ”

“ I hope we can arrange something before then, but I’ll let you know in a few days. :) ”

“ Great! ” You should have probably toned it down with the exclamation marks, but you couldn't stop yourself, “ Is it okay for me to ask about your voice acting project, or is that top secret? ” You didn’t feel like letting the conversation end just yet.

Luckily, it turned out that he could indeed talk about it, and he told you as much along with some more details. You asked him more question, and he did the same in turn. Before the talk could end properly, you drifted to sleep, the both of you still deep in conversation until almost an hour later. You didn’t say goodnight, but when you woke up the next day - earphones still in but music long faded away - you found you had a couple more messages.

One of them was a continuation of your chat, while the other had been sent around midnight and read, “ I’m guessing you fell asleep, so goodnight… and good morning. :) ”

-

The next few days proceded in much the same way. Sometimes you were the one to text first, and other times he was: you would greet each other with a “ Good morning ” right before work, and the conversation would continue from there.

That wasn’t to say you could text continually, you were both quite busy - you were often at the label offices, or you were out for interviews and small musical matinées - so the conversations weren’t always linear, but they happened almost every day.

Some days you would text him and he could only answer after several hours, and the opposite could also happen, but all the days you heard from each other ended with a goodnight text.

At some point, talking so often became natural enough that you stopped worrying about bothering him, you just saw something funny or that made you think about him, and a text followed shortly after. Of course, some days that little voice in your head going “Don’t text him, he’s just being nice, you’re actually bothering him a lot!” would come back with a fiery passion, but the way he would end a sudden text with an “ I’m glad you texted. ” made all your doubts dissolve on the spot.

It was rare that either of you would delve into intimate matters - you’d only met around a week before after all, and the understanding that the texts should remain light seemed mutual - but the way you spoke to each other felt like a prelude to something greater, always on the brink of that one word you were nervous to say or hear. You realised with an exhilarating mix of apprehension and excitement that in the short time you’d known each other, you had somehow started trusting him, and it hit you out of the blue like a bat to the stomach.

A little over a week after you’d started texting, on just any day, you were in a meeting with some old man from another label who was requesting your presence at an event you couldn’t quite remember in detail. The reason for that was that, seemingly out of the blue, he had made a sexist joke at your expense, and you became blinded by rage. You felt humiliated and belittled, afraid of how to tell Nina you wanted out of the agreement.

You should have trusted her to have your back, though, because the minute those foul words left his mouth, she stood up, said glacially, “Thank you for your time, but we’re not interested,” and made quick work of getting out of there. You were left scrambling to follow after her, completely stunned.

As soon as you were both out the door, she turned to you with an irritated expression and apologised, “That was completely unacceptable. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I’ll take responsibility for the deal being called off.”

You struggled with a response, mouth gaping but unsure of what to say. So you didn’t say anything at all. You just threw your arms around her and hugged her with all the strength you had, hoping that your gratitude could seep out from your skin and into hers. She hugged you back without a word and when you separated she touched your cheek gently, a rueful smile on her lips, and told you, “I have another appointment after this, but you should go ahead and enjoy the rest of the night. This was your last meeting for today.”

You nodded and thanked her before saying goodbye, and then you watched her back as she walked away. Nina’s support had definitely helped lessen you initial anger, but the whole situation was still nagging at you, leaving you with the acute prickle of disappointed and a sour taste in the back of your throat.

You decided to make a quick stop to the restroom to cool down before leaving. You looked into the mirror, and your mind instinctively thought of Tom, the urge to contact him mounting with every second.

You exited the room and started rummaging inside your bag for your phone with shaky hands, ready to text him. You had just grabbed the device and were unlocking the screen when you felt something lightly brush your shoulder, making you jump out of your skin.

You whirled around with a jolt, expecting some kind of fight, and sighed in relief when you realised it was Tom.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologised. He was looking at you with concern.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, “Don’t worry about it.” Then you forced out a smile and started over, “Hi! What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” he greeted too, “I didn’t realise you were signed under this label. This is where I’ve been recording for that project I told you about,” he explained.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, remembering the previous exchange. You tried to think of something more to say when he spoke again.

“Are you alright?” he asked you, a frown had taken over his features and was deepening by the second, “You seem a little shaken.”

You closed your eyes briefly, your unconvincing smile disappearing entirely, and tried, “I… Yeah...” You gave up halfway, sighed again and started over, this time sincerely, “Actually, not really.”

You finally opened your eyes, he looked right into them with intense worry, it made you weak in the knees for just a second. Registering that he was giving you time to gather your bearings for an explanation - if you were willing to give one - you continued, “I had a harsh meeting.” You paused again, diverting your eyes, unsure of whether to say it or not and in the end, you decided to do so, “Sexism doesn’t magically disappear when you start selling music, apparently,” you concluded, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice.

He reached a hand and circled his fingers around your wrist in a delicate grasp, not once turning his focused gaze away from your eyes. He took a deep breath and finally said, “I am mortified that you had to go through that. I will try and be of support to you if you were to decide to take legal action.”

You recoiled, completely blindsided by his words. You didn’t think that was necessary, and it definitely wasn’t something that you had even considered. Nevertheless, warmth spread through your chest, and you felt all the remaining anxiety drain from your bones. The thought of someone so readily believing you, not even knowing the whole situation, was as unfathomable as it was touching and the fact that that person was Tom, whom you’d unwittingly started trusting and hesitated to believe the sentiment was reciprocated in the way it seemed to be, made something deep within your soul shake in fear and trepidation.

You smiled, earnestly this time, your hand sliding backwards so that his fingers were touching yours. You could feel heat seeping in from where your fingertips were pressed against his. “I am genuinely moved, I don’t know how to thank you for what you just said,” you almost whispered.

His frown dissipated, a tiny smile taking its place, and his cheeks darkened in an almost invisible blush. You kept silently smiling and looking at each other for a few more seconds, then a door along the corridor closed with a loud bang and the moment was broken. Your hands separated.

Tom looked around embarrassedly, stroking the side of his neck in a nervous gesture and searching for what to say. He smiled nervously once again and finally asked you, “There’s a canteen on the 18th floor, would you like to get something to drink?” then he seemed to have forgotten something and hastily added, “I mean right now. With me.”

You couldn’t stop the small giggle that left your lips, seeing him flustered made your heart swell with affection. You lifted the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder and replied, “I’d like that very much.”

You made your way to the elevator walking side by side, neither of you speaking. When you finally entered the lift, he selected the 18th floor as you stood next to each other, silence turning stiff. Suddenly, you twitched with realisation and said, “I know I should have asked this sooner, but how is the voice acting going, by the way?”

“It’s been a lot of fun, thanks for asking,” he replied with a genuine smile, “It’s been quite intense, considering the hours, but I’ve been enjoying it greatly.”

You smiled back. Right then, the elevator pinged to signal you had arrived, so you exited it and made your way to the canteen on the other side of the corridor.

“I’m really glad to hear that,” you told him, “You have an amazing voice, it’s surprising that you’re not flooded with offers of voice acting work,” without thinking you also added, “But then again, it would be a shame to hide your lovely face behind a virtual character.”

He suddenly stopped walking, you did the same. “Oh?” he asked, his tone entertained.

You were confused for just a second before realising what you’d just said, “No! I meant- uh- I-I… Wha-”  you scrambled to explain yourself, “Because of your acting!” He pursed his lips, obviously trying to suppress his laughter, and you continued, “The things you do! With your face! While acting… are just, so good!” you finished with a grimace.

He finally started laughing.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I did this again.” you groaned.

“It’s completely fine,” he reassured you, still smirking, “It gets more endearing every time.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, a deep blush staining your cheeks.

You both started walking again, finally reaching the entrance to the canteen. He opened the door and gestured for you to enter ahead of him, then followed you inside.

The canteen was a spacious area on the left side of the building, it was furnished with small wooden tables and wrought-iron chairs, all along a wall of windows overlooking a district of mostly other office buildings. The tables surrounded the central space where an island bar was located and the cashier worked. Off to the side, there was a small door closing off the kitchen area where most of the food was prepared. The place was mostly used by the employees that worked in the building as a lunch area, but it wasn’t unusual to find other faces of the music or show businesses drinking a coffee and enjoying the view at all hours of the day.

You’d been there several times with Nina and the rest of your crew for a coffee break or to wait between meetings. You loved the view, watching the grey London skies and looking at the bright city lights when your work kept you busy until late was a great way to take in the vastity of other people’s lives.

You looked around for an unoccupied table, there were quite a few but you set sight on one right next to the windows with two empty seats.

“Go on ahead,” Tom told you, following your gaze, “What would you like? I’ll go grab it for us.”

“Just a cappuccino, please.” You then motioned to pull out your wallet and added, “Here, let me-” but he stopped you with a hand on your forearm and said with a smile, “No need, I got it.”

You smiled back and thanked him, so he headed for the small bar and you made your way to the table you’d eyed. You set your bag on the floor against the legs of your chair and sat down, looking out towards the city while waiting for Tom to join you.

When Tom reached your table with a small metal tray - two coffee cups and a few sugar packets on it - and set it down, you jumped slightly. You’d been staring intently out onto the city, and your mind had begun to drift off on its own over what had happened earlier.

“Thank you very much,” you told him, sitting up, “I really appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome,” he answered sitting down, then asked you, “Are you sure you’re alright? You seem a little spaced out.”

“I’m fine, really. Thank you for asking.” You ripped open one of the sugar packets and poured its contents into your drink and started stirring it absentmindedly. “It just kind of feels like a long day on my shoulders now, that’s all,” you smiled, your eyes on the cup.

He answered with a soft “Mhmm...” and said nothing else. When the silence stretched out, you finally looked up at him and he was staring right back at you, a scrutinizing but gentle expression on his face, but he didn’t say more.

You blushed under his gaze but covered it by taking a sip out of the large cup of steaming cappuccino. He did the same with his drink, then set it back down. Finally, he said, “I had a chance to listen to your album.”

You tried to read his expression with no luck. When he didn’t continue you prompted, “Oh?”

“I was very impressed,” he explained, “I already knew you have a wondrous voice - as I said before, your song for the soundtrack was quite astounding - but I was very surprised to find out you wrote most of the lyrics, too,” he paused for a second, then finished, “You have an amazing way with words.”

You were lost for words, didn’t really know how to respond to such high praise. You started, “I-” but had no idea what to say. In the end, you only said, “Thank you,” hoping that your gratitude would somehow translate in your tone. So much for the amazing way with words.

He chuckled, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he didn’t quite apologise.

“Oh no, that’s not it at all,” you insisted, “I’m just really stunned, I don’t get such huge compliments every day.”

He seemed like he wanted to say more, but just at that moment, his phone started ringing from his pocket. He pulled the phone out and looked at the screen with a frown. “I’m terribly sorry, I really need to take this,” he apologised.

“It’s alright, go on,” you reassured him and took another sip of your drink.

“Hello?” he answered into the phone. He listened to the person on the other end and said, “I understand, see you later,” then he ended the call.

He put the phone back into his pocket and told you, “I’m afraid I can’t stay much longer. That was my manager,” he explained, “It seems something has come up, and my presence is required. I’m really very sorry.”

You put down your cup and told him, “I completely understand, you don’t need to apologise.”

“Before I go,” he started regretfully, “I wanted to talk about dinner.”

Hearing the negative tone in his voice and bracing for a rejection, you said, “I will understand if you’ve changed your mind,” but he stopped you.

“No, no, that’s not it,” he rushed to deny, “I just don’t think I’ll be able to make it before my voice acting commitment ends. I know I said I would, and I apologise-”

“It’s alright, honestly,” you stopped him, “There’s no need to apologise, I can wait.” You smiled genuinely.

He responded with a smile of his own. You both got up, his now empty cup still on the table, and you finally said your goodbyes.

“It was tremendous to bump into you, I’m glad we could sit down and chat even if only for a bit,” he looked into your eyes and said, “I look forward to meeting again.”

You were disarmed by his charm. “It was the same for me,” you replied with a shy smile, “I hope we can talk again soon.”

“Of course,” he said, pointing to the pocket where his phone was. He hugged you briefly and kissed your cheek. “Have a nice evening,” he said, and with that, he walked away. You sat back down to finish your drink and looked at his retreating back. He turned around just once, noticed you were also watching him and saluted you with a small wave and a smile before finally disappearing behind the doors of the canteen and into the corridor.

You finished your drink slowly, gaze back towards the city. You couldn’t keep a dreamy smile from blooming on your lips.

Chapter 5

@honeybournehippy @namelesslosers @huntersvibe @unlikelytigerqueen @effielumiere @theoneanna

[impishnature]

Life Aboard The Stan’O’War

AO3

Sequel to The Light Keeper The Adventure of A Lifetime, Casper, Fisherman’s Friend, Stay Where I Can See You, Kinship

Rating: T

Summary: The Stan twins are finally setting off on the adventure of a lifetime, both ready to face whatever the sea has to throw at them. Though, sometimes…. it might not be the sea they have to worry about. At least the Stan’O’War will weather whatever storms they find themselves sailing through. Lighthouse Keeper AU.

A series of oneshots.  

AN: Arguments work both ways. And Stan needs to remember he’s not the only one that cares. (Warnings: Self worth issues, intrusive thoughts, nightmares) The next chapter is already up on patreon here. Come check it out!

Part 6: Whispers In The Static

"Will you just let me take a look?!"

The unfortunate thing about caring so much about a person, other than the utter fear of them putting themselves at risk, is that the arguments that flared up when the person you cared about had been in danger were ferocious.

"I already told you I'm fine!"

The other unfortunate thing about caring when there were only two of you in these scenarios, is that no matter how much you wanted to keep them safe, there was a very big probability that they only wanted the same for you.

And that led to situations where no matter what happened, there was definitely going to be one hell of a storm afterwards.

"You are not fine, you- you- knucklehead!" Ford snarled, trying his best to grasp hold of Stan's arm and take a look at the wound that he was gingerly holding to his chest. But his brother wasn't having any of it, shaking his head and pulling back with a scowl as Ford's tirade continued. "Of all the reckless stupid ideas you've had, Stan- what were you thinking?"

"I wasn't, alright?" Stan snapped back, his face sullen and his eyes looking everywhere other than Ford, finally resting to glare at the floor at his feet. "All I knew was that I had to get you out of the way of that- I don't even know what it was."

Ford frowned at the weird tone, the soft almost dark humour that seemed to be lacing Stan's voice. It sent another wave of irritation through him, the concerned fear bubbling up and shifting into heated anger as Stan scoffed in front of him. As if his actions were obvious and Ford was the one acting strange. "Are you even taking this seriously, Stan? Are you?"

"Of course I am. I made sure you didn't get hurt, didn't I?" Stan gave a pained grimace of a smile, all teeth and no bright spark.

It only added fuel to the fiery ire.

It crackled through Ford's chest, the agitated concern burning scorch marks up his throat to heave as smoke and ash from his lips.

...He didn't notice Stan flinch back from the falling embers.

"That's not the point, Stan!" The words exploded forth, his hands moving energetically and wide with every word, quick sharp flickering motions before he shakily ran a hand through his hair, trying hard not to shake the man in front of him. "You know that's not what I meant! I could have- I would have-"

"Would have what? Gotten yourself out of the situation? I wasn't about to take the risk." Stan's face became grim then, sombre in a way that made Ford start to deflate, fire smothered in a thick blanket of unease by the unexpectedly earnestness. "I've told you before, Sixer, I'm not losing you again."

"That doesn't mean throwing yourself into harms way." Ford glared at him, voice tight and contained, his arms tightening around his own chest when his every step forward to try and look at Stan's arm had his twin backing further away from him.

"Doesn't it?"

"No!" Ford's voice cracked halfway through the word, making Stan cringe at the sharp bark. "What could possibly make you think that?"

"I can take it." Stan shrugged, waving his wounded arm towards him. He winced at the movement after only a second, realising his mistake a moment too late as he quickly held it tight to himself instead, the pain obvious even as he tried his best to pretend otherwise. "I mean, better me than yo-"

"Do. Not. Finish. That. Sentence." Ford scrubbed a hand down his face, his eyes stern as they finally locked with Stan's and for a second he thought he saw a flash of fear in them that he couldn't quite fathom.

"Come on, Sixer. It's not like it's a big deal."

"Not a big-?" The remnants of Ford's fire turned to solid ice, sharp, cold, unyielding shards, each one chiming with his distraught disbelief. How could he say that? How could he even think that- He felt something inside him snap as he stood up to his full height, his back ramrod straight as he pointed at his brother. "You-! You don't get to be angry at me for accidentally putting myself in bad situations when you actively run into them!"

"What was I supposed to do? Let it hurt you?"

"Ye-No! I don't know! But just-" Ford growled, pacing as he gestured wildly to try and make sense of his thoughts. "Just try to care about what happens to you as well! I saw your face as you ran towards me, you weren't even- your own safety didn't even cross your mind, did it?" His footsteps faltered as he turned back to watch Stan's reaction to his words. "That's what scares me. You don't even seem to care if you get hurt."

Stan winced at the concerned expression, tugging his eyes away to look out over the water, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Ford saw his lips move, obviously responding but the words didn't carry. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

Ford sighed, his hand running through his hair, mussing through it, as he tried to formulate some kind of response to all of this. "In any case just sit down and let me take a look at that arm-"

"I told you I'm fine."

"And if it was the other way round?" Ford felt the need to stamp his foot, to stomp over and make Stan look after himself but he knew that all he'd do was cause further injury and if he was being honest, he really didn't understand why Stan was being quite so stubborn about this. All he knew was that his brother was hurt and he wasn't letting him help and it ached somewhere deep down, down below all the tumultuous emotions that were rearing their ugly heads. So if he had to play dirty to get him to give in then he'd just have to deal with the guilt of that later, anything was better than... this distance. "If it was me that wasn't letting you help or I'd gone running off into danger, what would you be doing, right now?"

"Well, that would be completely different."

"Different? How would it be different?!" Ford couldn't help but wonder when the tides had changed. Since when had it been him that was all bluster and movement, heated exclamations and wild gestures, whilst his brother stood motionless and quiet, withdrawn and cold.

Since when had his brother not faced everything face on, even him? Why wouldn't he even look at him?

"Because it would be you. And like I've already said better me than-"

"No. No, we're not going- I'm not having that." Ford took a deep breath. His anger was getting the better of him. He couldn't think straight, couldn't get his words to line up into actual sentences to address the glaring issue in this conversation. Nothing he said was getting through to his brother, it was all bouncing off and he couldn't think up the right words to say to get through the armour his brother was needlessly building up around himself. He didn't understand. Why is he doing this? "I need a minute to cool off." He let the breath out in a long hiss, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat, though considering it hadn't really stopped thudding painfully since he'd seen his brother leap in front of him and take the brunt of an attack that hadn't been meant for him, he wasn't sure any attempts he made would be successful. "I'll be back- don't... don't do anything reckless while I'm not looking, alright?"

He hadn't meant to say anything, but the frustration was getting to him, the sarcastic remark dripping like poison and he regretted the words almost as soon as they fell from his lips and Stan's face shifted, locking down right in front of him.

And then the look vanished, a deep set frown and stubborn gaze sparked back up across from him. "No, wait- you can't leave, we've talked about that before. I'm not letting you walk away from this, we've got to talk things out remember?"

"Talk what out, Stan? You're not even listening to me." Ford sighed, shrugging in dismal defeat. "I just need a moment. That's all."

Silence followed in his wake as he walked away, Stan not even trying to argue as he left and for some reason that sent off more warning bells than anything else in Ford's head. Something wasn't right, he didn't get it- nothing made sense.

Stan didn't let things go, didn't let things drop away and fester, especially not after that first fight. Yet here he was, just accepting it, somehow knowing not to push Ford further on this point and even though he was grateful for that, something about it set his teeth on edge.

Why was Stan doing this? Why wouldn't he let him help?

He almost didn't want to let Stan out of his sight, and inside that protective feeling something nagged at him desperately, deep in his core, like he had forgotten something important.

A heavy sigh echoed behind him, just as he was closing the door. He kept it slightly ajar, assuming Stan thought he was on his own, wondering if he'd say anymore.

His actions were rewarded when the wind blew across the deck and sad pained words slipped through the crack in the door.

"Idiot. Just can't do anything right today, can you?"

Ford found himself pacing again once he was alone, eyes scanning for some kind of sign around the cabin, something to aid him when he went back out to discuss things with his brother.

Anything to make him understand what was going on.

He closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath as he willed his mind back, retracing through the day step by step. The argument was a given, sometimes people acted oddly and he knew as much as he hated it Stan would always rather it was him that got hurt instead of Ford. So, him acting up then and trying to hide how injured he was almost made sense, logically, but there was something about the day in general that heightened the feeling that Ford shouldn't let him brush the whole affair aside like he obviously wanted to.

Something else was going on and he needed to get to the bottom of it.

So he continued watching the day in reverse. Before the creature had even been a sliver on the horizon something had been off, though he hadn't really noticed it until late. Stan couldn't seem to focus on the tasks at hand. He'd seemed more withdrawn, less observant. If it hadn't been for the sudden attack from the side of the boat, Ford had been ready to try and drag him into a conversation in the hopes of getting him back with him in the real world.

Now he thought about it, he wasn't even sure he'd heard any jokes from him that morning, not even an attempt at one.

"Idiot. Just can't do anything right today, can you?"​

Ford frowned deeply, the words still circling over and over in his head. Ever since he'd heard them uttered he'd been trying to solve the puzzle. Stan had accidentally knocked over an experiment in the morning, was that what he was referring too? Sure, he'd been upset, that venom had been quite an ordeal to obtain and Stan knew as much but really, he'd been far more fretful that Stan had got some on him when the beaker smashed than actually angry at him. They could always get more, that really wasn't an issue when it came between that and his brother's well being. But Stan hadn't seemed to think that, he'd been overly apologetic, stuttering promises that he hadn't meant to do it before going utterly quiet once Ford assured him it was fine, his face downtrodden.

Now Ford thought on it, he realised that for whatever reason, Stan hadn't believed him.

And because of that one mistake, Stan had made more and more. Fumbled notes and almost scattered them, stumbled over ropes and items on the deck as if he hadn't even seen them. Small hissing curses that Ford had hardly listened to but now seemed more evident as something he should have been paying close attention to.

"Idiot. Useless. What are you doing?"​

And still Ford knew there was something he'd forgotten, something important-

His eyes fell on the fairy lights that adorned the cabin.

And spat a colourful string of curses as he darted for the door, the dim twinkling lights dancing across his retinas.

That was what he'd forgotten.

That morning when he'd woken, the lights had seemed that little bit off colour, just a tad duller and just a bit more unnatural, like a smile that didn't reach the eyes and hid a well of emotions behind it.

He'd wondered if Stan had had a nightmare, or whether it was just an off day but decided it might be best not to bring it up, that he'd only keep a watchful eye, or try and help however he could if Stan seemed to slip into a quieter day than usual.

And then the venom had been spilled and all those thoughts had been driven straight from his head to be replaced by a frantic mantra to make sure his brother was physically OK. The sigh of relief when he came to the conclusion that his twin was unharmed, even as he became withdrawn, his eyes glazing over and his teeth worrying his lip, was still enough to make him lose all track of what he had been doing, all his plans vanishing in the breeze to be replaced by a false and lethal calm.

His brother might have been physically OK, but emotionally? He'd already been on a slippery slope before that moment and it had all gone downhill, snowballing quickly and he hadn't even noticed.

You're the idiot! This kind of behaviour is what you should have been watching out for!

And now? Now as he bolted for the door, eyes darting quickly around the deck to find his brother's silhouette, the fairy lights were flickering, wavering on and off, on and off, each time just that tiny bit dimmer than before.

He'd known them get bad before, he knew as strange as it sounded, how in tune they were with his brother, and usually he could keep track, check on them and then check on his brother and make sure that the sparks didn't go out entirely. He'd bring his brother back to the present and make him laugh or at least smile, try and coax him into conversations until the world was righting itself again and the fairy lights were back, bright as they should be.

...He wasn't sure he'd ever let the lights get that bad before.

He heaved a sigh of relief, footsteps clipped and loud as he caught sight of Stan and instantly found himself racing towards him, thoughts of the earlier argument far from his head when his brother needed him. Stan didn't seem to notice though, his eyes locked far out to sea, his trusty radio beside him spitting out nothing but white noise though he wasn't phased enough to do anything about it, leaning listlessly against the railing, his injured arm hanging limp at his side.

"Stan?"

No response.

Ford gulped, though not unlike before when Stan had intentionally ignored him, he could tell this time that wasn't the case. The look almost reminded him of another time, a far far colder time when he'd watched his brother almost give up entirely and had had to drag him back from the precipice that he himself had caused.

He shouldn't have left Stan alone today.

The white noise sounded sharper, a static crackle snapping through and Stan had just enough focus to flinch at it, eyes closing for a second slowly before reopening and scanning the water with a sharp intake of breath.

Ford didn't know what was going through his head, but he knew that it shouldn't go on any longer.

"Stan? Stan, come on, listen to me." Ford bit his lip when nothing happened, when his pleas fell on deaf ears and for a moment he thought back to his panic attack, tried to remember what exactly it was that Stan had done to ground him and remind him he was actually there with him-

It hit him like a freight train and without thought he did the only thing that came to mind and dropped his hand on Stan's shoulder.

Stan jumped high, spinning in one fluid movement, eyes wide and shocked before he came down from the sudden adrenaline rush and realised who it was. "Jesus, Sixer! Don't sneak up on me like that, I could have-"

"I didn't sneak up on you. I've been stood here calling you."

"O-Oh." Stan's eyes didn't lose their fearful glaze, the smile winding around it all, twisted and unnatural as he tried, unsuccessfully, to shake off whatever had been going through his head. "Sorry- must have... dozed off or something."

Ford bit the inside of his mouth, desperately wanting to let the relief that Stan was responding to him take over but he knew he needed to nip this in the bud now, knew they needed to get this off their chests before Stan withdrew again and his thoughts spiralled to where Ford couldn't reach them. "Stan, talk to me."

Stan frowned, the smile vanishing to what Ford assumed was meant to be innocent confusion. "Talk to-? I am talking to you, Sixer, what do you think I'm doing?"

"You're not though!" Ford gripped his shoulder tighter, only pulling away when a pained hiss left Stan's lips. "You're not- Not really! You won't let me help you-"

"If this is about my arm-"

"It's not just about your arm." Ford's words were quiet but managed to cut through Stan's argument like butter. "You aren't letting me in. You won't talk to me about whatever is obviously eating away at you, you won't let me physically look after you- why? Why won't you let me in, Stan? We promised we'd talk things through- you- you promised you'd wake me if you had any more nightmares."

Stan's eyes locked down again then, his mouth a thin line as he pondered Ford's words and he almost worried for a second that the split second assumption he'd made was all wrong when-

"I woke you then?"

Any trace of Stan's fake smile had vanished, his eyes once again skirting over Ford's face before dropping away entirely and staring out to sea, visibly deflating. He looked vulnerable, smaller, and Ford hated it. He found himself abruptly needing to be closer and latched himself to Stan's side in a moment of solidarity, his protective instinct flaring too brightly to be ignored.

"I'm sorry- I didn't mean to wake you. It wasn't even that bad a nightmare, it just stayed with me a bit. And then I messed up this morning and-" Stan let out his breath in a wobbly hiss that almost sounded like he was on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry."

"Shhhh." Ford leant up against him, not knowing what else to do and felt Stan lean just as heavily back as if he was struggling to keep himself afloat and welcomed the support. Ford was happy to give as much as was needed, becoming an anchor for Stan's tempestuous thoughts. "It's OK. You didn't wake me, I just- I guessed."

Stan snorted, low and incredulous. "Smart guess."

Ford gave a quick smile, though it fell flat in the moment. "That's not what matters. What matters is that something's been eating away at you and you didn't wake me."

Stan shrugged again. "As I said it wasn't that bad a dream. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"But?"

"But..."

Stan's words fizzled to nothing and Ford felt himself go adrift with them, not knowing where to land to keep them both on course. There were no stars to navigate this conversation, no pinpoints to focus on to keep it moving. He knew he had to be ready but he didn't know which way the winds were blowing, didn't know how best to react and resolve the situation to keep them both afloat.

...He just had to hope he could sail against the tides and find dry land.

"It just... festered? I- I dunno, I know that it wasn't that bad a dream and yet i just couldn't- can't seem to shake it." Stan shuddered, the warmth against him appreciatively solid and pressing as Ford leaned even closer. "And I just kept proving the dream right. Over and over again. Mistake after mistake after-"

"Stan, you haven't done anything wrong- not really." Ford tilted his head against Stan's shoulder, hearing a grateful shaky breath as Stan nudged him back. "Everyone makes mistakes-"

"I just seem to make a lot of them."

Ford frowned at that, unable to see where Stan had gotten that idea from. "What on earth- you don't make a lot of mistakes, Stan."

"Have you seen me today? I'm on fire with how many things can go wrong. Walking disaster area." Stan snorted, shaking his head and pulling away. "First with your experiment, then messing up every day tasks with the boat, then not being able to get you away from that- that thing in time." His hand gripped the railing tightly, eyes sharp and disgusted as he spat out the words.

"But you- you did get me away."

"No, you were right." Stan deflated slightly, not able to look at Ford, staring at his rippling reflection in the water instead. "I just- if I was any good at my job I'd have got you out of there without getting myself hurt. I left it too late, if I'd just-"

"Stan, it's not your job to keep me safe." Ford pulled away to look at him properly, trying to catch his eye and failing miserably.

"Isn't it-"

Ford growled when Stan's eyes started to glaze over, trying to drag him back. "And you can't think about 'what if's' like that, it'll drive you- it'll never end, that kind of thinking. You know that, I know you do."

Stan heaved a deep sigh, world weary and exhausted. "I know, I know- but I can't help it right now." His eyes flicked sideways, catching Ford's for a moment. "Not when-"

"When?"

Stan huffed, irritation bleeding through. "I dunno, just not when I keep proving the thoughts right."

The strangled disagreeing noise that left Ford's throat made Stan flinch beside him. "You do not. You've made a few mistakes today- so what? I know I've made a few too! Remember when I brought the map out on deck to check something and the wind took it away from me?"

"Yeah but-"

"But nothing!" Ford nodded vehemently, before settling again against him, a small frown returning after the quick victorious smile at making Stan be quiet but attentive. "And I don't think I was right, not if that's what you took from it."

"Hmm?"

"You seem to think that- oh, I don't know? That I'm angry at you because you weren't fast enough?" He felt Stan's breathing hush at the words and pain blossomed thick and fast at the obvious accusation. "No! I was angry because you didn't even seem to care about getting hurt. It was like it didn't matter at all."

"It didn't-"

"It mattered to me! And it should matter to you!"

"That's the thing, Sixer, I don't get why it does."

Ford's breath came out in an ice cold fog, Stan's head snapping around at the pained noise, eyes wide and panicked at what had just come forth from his mouth.

"That's what scares me. You don't even seem to care if you get hurt."

This time he could read Stan's lips, hindsight cutting through him painfully at just what he had missed.

"I don't get why you do."

"I-"

"Shi- ignore- ignore I said that. I didn't mean to say that." Stan groaned, rubbing his face with his hands, almost as if he'd forgotten or didn't care about how much it hurt to do so, and letting them stay there in a fit of self-loathing. "God damn it, I didn't mean to say that." And yet the words seemed to blossom up unbidden, no matter how much he tried to squash them, continuing on as if they were bleeding out of him and he couldn't stem the flow. "I mean- it's the only thing I'm good at. Looking after you, rolling with the punches. I can take the hits, I'm fine with taking the hits. It's what I'm meant to do-"

"It's not!" Ford's hands tightened around Stan's wrists, trying to tug them away from his face. "It's not what you're meant to do. You're- this isn't a job, Stan! I didn't ask you to come sailing with me as some kind of- bodyguard? Is that what you think this is?" He searched Stan's face, trying to catch a glimpse through his fingers. "Cause it's not, I can assure you it's not. I asked you to sail with me because I wanted to sail with you- I wanted to go adventuring with my brother like we always said we would."

Ford breathed a sigh of relief as Stan's eyes poked through the holes his fingers made, the look grounded again and desperately hopeful.

"Yeah?"

"Of course, knucklehead."

The next words made the soft smile on Ford's face drop again though.

"It's just... sometimes I wonder why you'd want to be out here with me at all."

"Oh. Oh, Stan."

Stan winced again, flinched as arms wrapped tight around him, dragging him in for a warm hug that he didn't reciprocate straight away.

"Stan, how could you think that? How could you think I wouldn't want to be here?"

"It's not that I don't - I'm just waiting for you to realise how bad an idea it was."

Ford huffed, tightening his hold. "Well, that's not happening. Not ever. No matter how many arguments or silly mishaps, the good days are so so much more amazing than anything else. You hear me?" He knew deep down that Stan couldn't agree in that moment, couldn't think past the bad, but maybe, just maybe, he could make this day a little bit better.

"You sure?"

"Definitely. Always. Never gonna change." Ford gave a happy hum as Stan's arms finally wrapped around him in return. "This is everything I hoped it would be." Stan snorted against him and he couldn't help laughing in return. "OK, maybe not right now, but the trip in general? Everything I hoped it would be and I wish we'd- no, I'm glad we have the chance to at all." He tilted his head to Stan's, closing his eyes and smiling brightly. "All because of you. Remember that. We'd never be here if it wasn't for you."

"...I'm sorry."

"Hmm?"

"Just- I'm sorry, just being-" Stan tried to pull away, the crackle of the radio making him flinch again as he wiped his eyes. "Stupid- getting emotional over a nightmare for god's sake-"

"There's a reason I asked you to come tell me about them and that's because they're never just nightmares." Ford tightened his hold again as Stan tried to pull away, a bold dismissal of the movements. "And you don't need to be sorry for that." He waited for Stan to respond at all, the silence beginning to unnerve him as the radio static hissed and fizzed. "Stan?" His movements had stopped and so Ford chanced moving away slightly, catching sight of Stan's glazed expression and shaking him firmly with a soft curse. He hoped he hadn't said the wrong thing to make him sink back into his wayward thoughts again. "Stan?"

Stan jumped, shaking his head as he zoned back in on Ford. "S-sorry. Thought I heard something."

"Heard something?"

Stan continued to shake his head, a hollow laugh escaping him as his grip on Ford's coat wavered. "Nothing, must be hearing things. Couldn't get that blasted radio to find a channel and every so often I keep catching the odd word and nothing else." His smile wobbled as Ford continued to stare at him, not buying the dismissal. "Thought... thought I heard you at one point. But it must have just been that nightmare rearing it's head again..."

"Well that's enough of that then." Ford flicked the radio off swiftly, the white noise silenced with a sharp click. "There, much better." He grinned brightly though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "See? I'm right here, not some whisper in the radio. Flesh and blood here." He tapped Stan's shoulder playfully. "Again, cause of you."

Stan rolled his eyes, a huff of embarrassment escaping through the desperate relief he was trying to hide. "Shut it with that sappy stuff."

"Nope. Never." Ford's smile grew more genuine as Stan kept hold of him, the solid presence obviously a safety net which he was happy to comply with. Behind his eyes, his mind span quickly, taking note of what Stan needed, taking note of what to look out for to make sure the bad days never got this bad again.

It didn't matter if they argued, just like Stan would never give him the silent treatment again, he knew now that Stan needed to know he was really there with him when his mind played tricks and lashed out at him.

All they wanted to do was look after one another.

And he was so desperate to make sure that happened, and to make Stan realise just how much he was worth.

He'd do that. He had to.

"What do you say to no more work today?"

"No more work?"

"Yeah." Ford smiled, tugging Stan with him as he moved. "The kids sent us some videos on the laptop, remember? What do you say to curling up for the rest of the day and watching some?"

"But what about-"

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait until tomorrow."

Ford smiled as Stan blinked a few times before following suit, a bright happy smile reflecting back at him. "You sure?"

"Positive. Besides, you've still got to let me take a look at your arm, that's far more important than anything else is right now." Ford tugged at his uninjured arm as Stan seemed ready to protest. "Nothing you can say will make me believe otherwise. You are my priority, end of, you understand?"

"...Thanks, Sixer." The words were hushed, awed gratitude there that didn't sit well with Ford.

"You don't need to thank me." Ford sniffed, looking over his shoulder with a small smile. "I'm just looking after my bro, like he always looks after me."

If Stan's bright watery-eyed smile made him feel warm and proud for having finally got through to him, he didn't say anything, too glad that the moment was happening at all to break it in anyway.

He also didn't mention, even as his smile grew brighter and the tension bled away from his shoulders, the distinct warm glow from the fairy lights as they entered the cabin.

All that matters was that they were shining again, maybe not yet completely back to normal, but getting there.

That was all he could ask for, he'd make sure they were glowing proudly soon enough.

And he'd make sure they never got to that dismal state ever again.

.

AN: Not going to lie, I was going to do this oneshot and the other argument one as a present for Ran’s bday... And then it all felt too angsty on it’s own so you got fluff piles like the last oneshot and the Ghost town to make it a bit more of a mixed bag.

But dang did I have fun with the imagery in this one and the other argument. The other one was all cold fear and logic whereas this one was more heated concern. [coughs] I’m a terrible person who loves this.  At least its not actually anomalies and more... consequences of everything else showing through. They can fix all this <3 that’s what family does after all ^^