#gillion deserves so much better he tries so so so hard all of the time GOD

[here-there-be-drag0ns]

ive only listened through episode 42 so far but i already feel so much about gillion tidestrider

[eldrigeonsss]

How about I hit you with another fnc tidbit this fine morning. I’m in a rly fnc mood, and I am going to be for the next three or so weeks so prepare for the chaos :D

Gillion has attempted many times to bake those raspberry thumbprint cookies.

In all realness, the task should not be as hard as it was. Sure, the process of hunting down the recipe and figuring out what a raspberry was, was a bit of a journey, but the trouble truly came when the ingredients were laid out before him.

Gillion took pride in his ability to cook, it was something he could do to provide for the entire crew, and it made him feel useful. He would not say he had fun with it, but there was also a rhythm to cooking, that occasionally he would find himself in a pretty good mood. He’d justify those feelings with doing a good job, because god forbid Gillion be happy just to be happy.

Baking, on the other hand, eluded him. He didn’t get all the intricate little types of flours, or the different sugars, the fact that everything needed to be in an exact amount. Too much egg, and the cookies would be runny and not hold their shape. Too little, and they would be dry and brittle and burn incredibly fast. Too much sugar and they would burn immediately. Too much vanilla and the entire ship would smell like a baking demon had been unleashed onto the world.

Gillion had achieved just about every single one of those results. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to open up the raspberry jam that he had purchased, because the cookie part was so atrocious. It frustrated him, to no end. Felt like missing that target over and over again, but this time it mattered so much more to him than some silly training. This was Chip, and Gillion loved Chip. Even if Chip didn’t know that fact quite yet, Gillion would miss that target a million times in hopes of hitting it at least once.

Jay even stepped in to help once or twice, readjust the oven temperatures, help him properly separate yolks, sift flour. Every time those atrocious cookies messed up in one way or another, she’d pat his shoulder, and say “he’d like them. You know he would.”

And it was true, probably. Maybe Chip would like them, maybe he’d be ecstatic just to see that Gillion even tried, but he deserved so much better. He deserved perfect, and Gillion was anything but that. Chip deserved cookies that weren’t runny or misshapen. Chip deserved someone who wasn’t faulty like these cookies.

That jar of jam remained tucked into the pantry, for a very long time. That untouched finish line, so easy to open, yet so terrifying to approach.

He could wait, until the cookies were perfect for Chip. Because Gillion loved Chip, but he could not justify being loved back. Not when he couldn’t even bake.