#lots of grian tags jesus

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Jesus christ this took far too long holy hell. Anyway, new chapter is posted, feel free to check it out. (ps. the tags have changed a bit, and it will apply to future chapters.)

Take My Tea With Formaldehyde

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Chapter 6: Feeling Light Headed

(More beneath the cut)

"– so, Ariana, you have a reputation of being the very best at avoiding the paparazzi– and it certainly seems to be true! I just have to ask; how do you do it?" The talk show host asked, leaning against the table in front of him and flashing a dazzling, perfect smile.

Ariana laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder in a practised manner. "Oh, let's just say that I have a few tricks," she replied, a mischievous smile on her face.

The talk show host raised his eyebrows exaggeratedly, giving him an expression like a cartoon character. "A few tricks?” He inquired, a strained smile on his face. Everything about him seemed fake; ingenuine and rehearsed. “Could I… maybe hear some of them?"

Ariana laughed again, shaking her head as she leaned back. "Unfortunately not,” she giggled, “If I tell you, then the paparazzi will know how to find me!"

She tilted her head innocently to the side, reaching across the table to pat the host on the hand, "But maybe I can tell you in the break."

The audience cheered, as if they'd get to hear anything at all.

"Oh, that does sound promising!" The host exclaimed cheerfully, moving his hand away from Ariana's. "Now, I recently heard that your new album is–"

~

Grian had fallen into a downward spiral again.

At this point, it was something Mumbo could see clear as day. If you were to ask him, he’d sit you down and point out all the little things. He’d point out the way that Grian started to put a lot less effort into his clothes, and he could see how Grian's makeup was becoming gradually messy.

Part of him felt disappointed, he'd hoped that after their conversation things would change for the better, that Grian would actually try.

But… the other half wasn't surprised. It seemed like they were stuck in a loop, that Grian would always fall back down.

If Mumbo was completely honest, he wasn't exactly sure what had triggered the sudden decline. Sure, he hadn’t known before either, but he felt like he should know this time. After all, he had been there for the beginning.

He knew that this sudden spiral had happened after a conversation in his kitchen that had happened just a few days before. He knew that it must have something to do with that.

After all, it was the very next day that Grian began behaving strangely.

As Mumbo tried to recall the details of the conversation, he couldn’t stop himself from being scared. He was so frightened, almost terrified that it was his fault. That Grian was doing badly again all because of him.

He couldn’t remember what they had been talking about, not really. All he could really remember was seeing Grian's expression flickering through emotions – a flash of surprise which turned quickly to confusion, then to something akin to realisation.

He couldn’t remember what he had said– God, how he wished that he could remember. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he got. It had to have been something he'd said. What else could it have been? It had to have been his fault.

He remembered that Grian had been doing the dishes, promptly dropping the plate that he'd been holding as Mumbo said something to him. He'd seemingly not even realised that he'd dropped it, not until it was crashing against the kitchen floor, shattering into shards that flew around the room like daggers.

Slowly, Grian’s face had dawned into something vacant, the realisation of… something sinking in as they stood facing each other silently. Grian stared down at the shards on the floor blankly, a hint of…concern, perhaps, painted on his features.

That's what Mumbo thought it might have been, but really he couldn't tell.

Before Mumbo could break the silence, Grian had spoken hoarsely.

"I have to go,” he murmured. “I have things to do."

His voice was somehow monotone and uncomfortable all at once, something strained and carefully blank as he grabbed his coat. He then left Mumbo's apartment, not even bothering to text Mumbo about why he left.

Mumbo was far too used to feeling confused, to being left behind like that. He had stood in the kitchen for a while, uselessly staring down at the shattered plate, as if it held all the answers he didn't have.

Eventually, he managed to pull his gaze away from it. He grabbed a brush and dustpan, kneeling down to clean up the pieces of the plate, trying his best to avoid getting hurt.

~

Whatever the conversation had been, the effects that it had on Grian were stark. Slowly, Mumbo started to notice changes in his behaviour. They happened little by little, but were piling up enough that they felt shocking and out of character. They felt drastic, even if, to an outsider, they perhaps weren't.

Sure, Grian had experimented a lot with fashion, with wearing things against the norm, like makeup and skirts. But… it felt different now. As if the clothes served some other purpose. As if they held more meaning than Mumbo could ever understand.

It was as if he was trying to express something he wasn’t yet saying, like he was trying to subtly hint at those around him without uttering a single word.

Most days, Grian wore a skirt or makeup. He dressed up a little, put a little more time into his appearance.

Some days, he wore neither, content with something more casual and typical.

Other days were the ones that stood out most to Mumbo, however. His clothes weren’t necessarily too different, they weren’t extreme or eye-catching, but instead… they seemed like a camouflage. Like a shield. Those days, the clothes that Grian wore had nothing to do with whatever it was that he was trying to express. Instead, they seemed as if he was trying to desperately hide. On those days, Grian wore hoodies. He always seemed so uncomfortable, so closed up, and so deep within his mind.

Mumbo almost wanted to say that Grian appeared scared, yet it just didn’t seem right.

Those days, Mumbo constantly tried his best to keep Grian out of his head. He tried to distract him in every way he could think of – making way too much tea, starting up his Wii to play Mario Kart, asking if Grian wanted to stay over for dinner.

He’d only once made the mistake of playing one of Ariana’s shows. It had definitely been a mistake. Something about it had caused Grian to close up even more, he had pulled up his knees and played with the strings to the hoodie, eyes foggy as he looked pointedly away from the screen.

Mumbo had turned the TV off immediately.

Since that day, he’d never, not even once, tried to use them as a distraction again.

Even so, he’d seen that pained reaction from the other a few times. On a couple of more notable occasions, Mumbo had been watching the shows when Grian had entered the apartment, and his discomfort was immediate. Grian looked pained, nauseous even, and excused himself to use the bathroom straight away. Whenever he was done – something that could take mere moments or twenty minutes – Grian would step out of the bathroom, and the TV would always have been switched to a movie.

It happened too often for comfort, Grian walking in on Mumbo rewatching the concerts and becoming distressed. He didn’t want that, he didn’t want his apartment to stop being somewhere safe, so Mumbo stopped watching the videos.

He didn't want Grian to show up when they were on, he didn’t want Grian to be upset by them. This meant that instead of enjoying the shows together, they had started to watch movies on Fridays.

And whenever Grian was having an off day, Mumbo would let him pick the film.

~

Mumbo was at Impulse's place for a casual hangout.

Originally the plan was for Tango to join them as well, but he'd gotten preoccupied so, well, it was just the two of them.

It didn't matter much. Whilst Mumbo did enjoy meeting Tango as well, he was significantly closer with Impulse and he sometimes got exhausted when hanging out with more than one person at the time. Besides, it wasn’t like there wouldn’t be other opportunities for the three of them to hang out at a later date.

It felt nice to be actually talking to someone, Mumbo couldn’t help but think.

Iskall had been far too busy lately, presumably as they tried to not get fired, and Grian was difficult to talk to, pulling away and hardly responding in conversation.

Grian just didn't say much anymore, and Mumbo couldn't really talk about his concerns to him.

As he explained this to Impulse, venting his frustration at not understanding why Grian behaved the way he did, Impulse asked, "So… he's been acting really weird, lately?"

"Yeah, he’s been– off? Odd? I don’t know, and I just– I can't wrap my head around why," Mumbo stuttered, trying to put everything into words as best he could.

It felt nice to talk to Impulse, as if he was talking to an older brother he never had.

"I mean, I hate to say it, but isn't strange just… his normal?" Impulse shrugged, making a curious noise.

Mumbo bit his lip. "No– I mean… yes, it is, but not like this,” he sighed weakly. “It’s never been like this before. Everything is just– it's far too wrong."

Impulse looked thoughtful, thinking for a moment before he responded, "Maybe you just should try to ask him, Mumbo. Try to figure it out that way, rather than trying to detective your way to the answer."

It was a frustrating suggestion, one which Mumbo tried to rationalise as best he could – it’s not like Impulse knew just how frigid things were between them, it’s not like he had seen the same side to Grian than Mumbo had recently. Really, Mumbo knew that asking for advice wouldn't change anything, but it was all just… so much to bear on his own.

"I would, if I could,” he started, trying to keep his tone steady. “Believe me, I’ve tried. He'd just say that he's fine, and force the conversation to move on– he’s trying to avoid talking about it like I’ve never seen before."

"Then I really have no advice to give," Impulse stared at him sympathetically. "Maybe you should just wait instead? I mean, it seems like the only option."

"Yeah. You're probably right," Mumbo replied, his mind whirring at the lack of conclusion. He had no idea what to do, and nor did anyone else. It just seemed like there… wasn’t an answer. Like there wasn’t a way for them to move past this without it blowing up in their faces.

As much as Mumbo hated it, Impulse was right. He couldn't really do much other than wait.

Wait and see if Grian would say something.

Just like that, the topic was dropped, and their conversation moved on.

~

Mumbo woke up in cold sweat, his chest heaving.

Something had woken him, something big– it was as if a very important puzzle piece suddenly had fallen into place. All because of one thing.

He remembered the conversation.

He remembered what it was about, what he had said, and yet he still struggled to understand.

They'd been in Mumbo's kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. Mumbo had been putting the leftovers into plastic containers, throwing away what couldn't be saved. Grian had been doing the dishes.

The domesticity had felt so normal. It was the most normal anything had been between them in ages. It felt light, like a deep breath of fresh air.

"So, I met up with Iskall a few weeks ago," Mumbo mentioned, as Grian was scrubbing a plate. He'd been scrubbing it for a while, and the food still didn't want to come off, "And they told me that–"

"Wait, they? Who's they?" He asked, turning to face Mumbo with a confused look on his face, the sponge and plate still in hand.

"Oh, I just mean Iskall. They told me that they're using those pronouns now," Mumbo shrugged.

"Oh," Grian said, eyebrows furrowed as if it was the first time he was hearing of this.

Mumbo paused, the reaction being different than what he'd expected, "They hadn’t told you yet?" He asked cautiously. He'd just assumed that Iskall had, it wasn’t the sort of thing that they would hide. In fact, they were usually open with those things.

"No, h-they haven't told me. I–" Grian's eyebrows were still furrowed. His face was scrunched, as if he was trying to force himself to remember if they had told him or not "–at least I'm pretty sure that they haven't…"

"Odd,” Mumbo responded carefully. “Maybe they just forgot."

Though Mumbo couldn't lie, that didn't really feel like Iskall. Iskall was so comfortable around people, and would immediately tell someone something. They rarely, if ever forgot to update the people around them on life events in general – nevermind something as important as this. There had to be another reason.

"Yeah. Maybe," Grian responded, but it didn't seem like he really believed that explanation either. Even so, he didn't comment further.

"Well… maybe just, instead of asking them, it might be better to wait until they tell you?" Mumbo said, beginning to put the stack of containers into the fridge.

When Grian nodded in reply, Mumbo felt relieved. He didn't know what else to say. It was silent for a second, and the topic was dropped. No point in talking more about it.

"So, anyway..." Mumbo started, slightly awkwardly as he tried to steer the conversation back to the original topic. He waited a second, and when Grian didn't make a move to stop him, he continued. "... They said that–" Mumbo kept talking, but as the conversation went on, he couldn't help but notice Grian's change in behaviour.

The air in the room felt weird, and Grian went from giving full replies to just answering with simple, one-word answers. He seemed to be lost in thought, zoning out completely to the goings on around him.

He scrubbed at the plate in his hands absentmindedly. It definitely had to be clean by that point.

Mumbo wondered what was going through his mind, what had changed in that short time, but every possibility led him nowhere. He couldn’t figure it out.

Then suddenly, he watched as Grian's face morphed to surprise, then confusion, before settling on realisation.

He didn't say anything. Grian didn't even seem to realise that he'd backed away from the sink. He didn't seem to notice that he had dropped the plate.

Not until it smashed against the floor.

Mumbo stared in shock at the broken plate, at the shards that were spread on the floor.

"Grian?" He carefully asked, but there was no response.

Grian's expression had yet again changed, transforming into something absent and vacant. He stared wordlessly at the shards, something dark and unrecognisable passing behind his eyes.

A few seconds passed, and then Grian spoke. "I… I have to leave," he said, his voice strangely montone as he backed away from the broken plate, stepping over the scattered shards carelessly, "I just remembered that I have something to do."

He backed quickly out of the kitchen, grabbed his coat and bag on the way, and fled out of the front door just as suddenly as everything that had happened before.

It wasn't until the door slammed shut behind him that Mumbo realised he had actually left. He– what? What had just happened? Why did things like this keep happening?

Mumbo stood in the kitchen alone for a few long minutes, contemplating the shards on the floor, wondering if they knew any of the answers that he was looking for. He sighed, deciding to clean up the pieces of the plate, and left to grab the dustpan and brush.

As he cleaned up the shards, he didn't even think about the conversation, too focused on the aftermath instead.

Now, awake in the middle of the night, Mumbo realised that maybe he should've tried to focus on their conversation, on the things that they had said in the lead up to such a disaster.

Mumbo sat upright in bed for a while, calming his pulse as he tried to understand why such a simple conversation had brought out such a big reaction. How it had changed Grian's behaviour.

The fact that Iskall hadn't yet come out to Grian had clearly been a bother, but for what reason? Mumbo couldn't say.

Something about Iskall, about their coming out, had somehow triggered something for Grian. It had somehow changed Grian's perception of something else.

Mumbo couldn't understand what it was. It seemed so unrelated, so detached from their actual conversation, like whatever Grian’s revelation was didn't actually have anything to do with Iskall. Instead, it seemed connected to Grian's idea of himself.

Even if the reaction had come after Mumbo had used different pronouns for Iskall, a part of him doubted that it actually had to do with that in any way. The reaction had taken a while, and the conversation had changed paths.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that Mumbo spoke about Ariana? That would explain why Grian seemed uncomfortable whenever he saw her- it explained something more than the "Iskall explanation" could, at least.

Mumbo bit his nails, trying to figure it out. Some things linked up, whilst others just didn't, and half of it just made no sense at all. He felt as if he was holding onto the puzzle piece that would make everything make sense, but the rest of the pieces had been hidden from view. This piece alone didn't make sense to him, he couldn’t put everything together when there was no puzzle to construct.

He sighed, checking the time.

3AM

He really should get back to sleep, he had work in the morning and he didn't want to show up feeling exhausted.

… There was something else that he had to do first.

He got out of bed, pulled his dressing gown over his pyjamas, and shuffled tiredly to the living room. He looked at the posters of Ariana that were on the walls, the CDs with her music in the cabinet, the DVDs with recordings of her shows on the shelf.

Slowly, his actions hindered by the comfortable pull of sleep, Mumbo began to remove the posters. He took them down one at a time, making sure to carefully roll up each one, before moving on to the next. Then, he began to remove the CDs from the cabinet, and lastly he gathered the DVDs from the shelf.

Everything was put in a pile in the centre of the couch, which Mumbo looked over for a second, before he began moving everything into his bedroom. It took a while to move it all, many stumbling trips made back and forth as he transported each item like it was made of gold. He put everything away in his room, hanging the posters on the walls and displaying the disc boxes on his dresser, and when it was finally done, Mumbo felt good.

He hadn't really considered doing this before, but it felt like a step in the right direction. If Grian reacted badly to Ariana's shows, then surely he didn't feel entirely comfortable around the posters. Sure, he hadn't said anything about the decor, but he also hadn't said anything about the shows, and Mumbo could tell that those were bothering him.

It was a small accommodation, but it made Mumbo glad to know that he was doing everything that he could to help.

~

The next time Grian came over, it was a bad day.

He had his baggy red hoodie on, the one with sleeves so long that you couldn’t see his fingers and a torso so oversized that you could barely make out his form. He said nothing as he stepped into the apartment, silently kicking off his shoes with a distant look in his eyes. Mumbo looked up from where he was sitting as Grian entered the kitchen. He'd been working on some stuff for work, and hadn't been expecting anyone to come over.

Oh well, he couldn’t really complain.

"Hey,” he greeted. “Want some tea?"

Grian scratched his neck. "Uh- sure," he said awkwardly.

Mumbo grabbed a red mug from the cupboard, one which Grian had used many times in the past, and poured some of the tea that he had already prepared for himself into it. Then, he added some honey and milk, handing it to Grian, who took it with a smile. The smile became just a little wider as Grian took a sip, and Mumbo could feel his heart pounding at the sight.

“I didn't know you were coming over,” Mumbo started, his tone conversational. “if I had, I would've made that flower tea you like instead."

Grian's face gained a bit more colour at Mumbo's words. He looked happier, more content, even if he still seemed to not feel the best.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Mumbo grinned in response. "I was working, but since you're here, I might as well take a break," Mumbo said, grabbing his own tea cup and starting towards the living room. "Any ideas what we could do?"

"Uh… we could– we could watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? I haven't really seen it in a while, I’ve been meaning to rewatch it, and yeah it's kinda sad, but–"

Grian's voice stuttered in his throat when they stepped into the room.

The furniture was still there, but it was the first time Grian saw it without the Ariana Griande merch in a long, long while. He looked at Mumbo as if he was asking where everything had gone, his mouth opening and closing like he didn’t have the words.

"Oh, I just felt like it was getting cluttered," Mumbo waved him off. He didn't want Grian to know the actual reason, just in case he was wrong. "Anyway– what were you saying? Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?"

He looked over his shoulder at the lack of a response, curious as to why Grian had fallen silent, and the sight stopped him dead in his tracks.

Grian wasn't listening to a word that had been said. Instead, he was looking slowly around the room, tears welled in his eyes. Mumbo’s heart panged in his chest as worries began to flood his mind. Had he done the wrong thing? Should he have kept the posters up? Would've that been better?

"Grian?" Mumbo asked carefully, "Are you okay?"

"What?" Grian said, half absentmindedly as he finally looked back towards Mumbo. "Oh- yeah, fine. Just fine."

He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly to clear the tears from his eyes as his left hand batted the air, as if trying to wave away the fact that he'd been staring. "Yes, I– I want to watch that movie. Please."

Mumbo didn't believe him for a second, but there was more life shining in Grian’s eyes than he had seen all day, so he decided to not push it further. Grian looked a lot more comfortable, suddenly fitting easily into the surroundings like he belonged there, so Mumbo guessed that removing the posters and stuff had been the right move. He smiled to himself softly, a warm pride sitting in his chest.

They sat down together on the couch, their knees knocking together as Mumbo reached for the remote, the pair of them chatting all the while. After Mumbo had found the movie, settling into the comfortable couch pillows, Grian leaned over, pressing himself into Mumbo’s side.

Soon, Grian began to try to move Mumbo's arm. "What are you doing?" Mumbo laughed, as Grian struggled to lift it.

"Shut up," he pouted.

Mumbo casually lifted his arm, putting it around Grian's shoulders. "Better?" He asked.

"Significantly," Grian smiled, taking Mumbo's hand in his.

Mumbo smiled back, trying to relax. He hoped that the heat blooming in his cheeks wasn’t noticeable… goodness, he hoped that Grian couldn’t feel the racing of his heartbeat.

Sure, it had stung to take down all the posters. Sure, he didn't really like the fact that he had to hide away the things that made him happy. But when he looked at Grian – his small, hoodie-swamped frame curled up and tucked into Mumbo’s side, seeming content despite the fact that he still didn't seem entirely comfortable – it felt worth it.

Mumbo knew that he'd give Grian the whole world, if it meant that Grian would be happy.

And, well, who's to say that it's anything good?

[redstone-sun]

Hi yes I completely agree with you. I also hate watcher grian and I also wish people stopped treating him like a child. I'm very happy someone who I consider big in the HC fandom also hates watcher grian. When I once mentioned that I didn't like watcher grian. People literally tried to dox me. This was on Reddit of course.

jesus christ anon im so sorry that happened to you

like dont get me wrong, theres some really creative stuff out there for watcher stuff, but a lot of the popular headcanons out there stem from a particular fic that i wont mention that i just! didnt like! and the author didnt like me so that didnt help lol

i did write one watcher thing a long time ago to try to feel better about it, no purple, no evil, just vaguely based on grians last evo episode, but i was always too afraid to share it bc it was mainly for myself and not really well written. im very happy that people in the fandom are good at tagging watcher grian stuff bc even if it does show up on my dash i dont have to see it. which is fine! reblog it! create it! just please tag it.

anyway my heart goes out to you anon, im sorry you had that experience. some parts of the hc fandom are just absolutely terrible like that.