"My sweet Jayce..."
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"My sweet Jayce..."
When you’re a parent, there’s no such thing as a vacation without kids.
That’s also part of the coffee–sweet milk theme I’m working on now.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, THISTLE!!! 💜💐🎁✨💖
He still has a few bad days (aha im projecting again)
jellyjayvik wip pieces!!
an aperitif for my flambert enjoyers excited for this fic!
Robert steps out the back door of the arcade bar looking for Flambae and catches a fist clean across his jaw.
He stumbles sideways off the short stoop of chipped concrete stairs, head reeling as the world spins. A rough hand grabs his upper arm, and he thrashes instinctually as he anticipates another blow. His shoulder flirts nauseatingly with dislocation.
Then, past the disorienting haze of the sudden blow, he recognizes that hand: it's missing the tips of two fingers.
"Flambae," he snaps. His voice comes out roughened by alcohol, breathless in the wake of fading adrenal response. "What the fuck?"
"Relax, Robert," Flambae cajoles with a smile in his voice. A ridiculous command—and yet his grip on Robert's arm stabilizes him, gives him time to gather his feet under his legs after his short fall. "Just getting my licks in."
Robert blinks rapidly, glaring up at Flambae's smug face as it comes into focus. The instant he's sure he is in command of his equilibrium once more, Robert wrenches his arm out of Flambae's grip.
Flambae lets him go without a fight, still smiling.
Robert rubs his jaw and hoarsely demands, "What the fuck was that for, asshole?"
Flambae frowns like he thinks Robert is some kind of idiot. Which is rich considering who it's coming from, but whatever. He's not going to quibble over the weird looks Flambae gives him when he's still waiting for an answer.
"I told you," Flambae says simply, raising a hand as if he thinks Robert ought to already have the answer. "I need to punch you in the face like, once a month to work through my feelings of hatred for you." He plants a hand on his cocked hip and raises a brow. "Did I hit you so hard you forgot?"
Flambae reaches out to perch warm fingertips on the side of Robert's head as he gently thumbs open an eyelid, like he's checking his eyes to see if he's concussed. It feels unbelievably patronizing—yet Flambae's expression of diligent assessment is inescapably sincere.
Robert swats the offending hand away with a bewildered grimace, determinedly ignoring the shiver skittering over his scalp.
He had forgotten about that, actually. Or it was more like—there was so much else going on at the time that that little detail had faded into the background.
But now that he thinks about it, someone had facetiously mentioned this being the team's one-month anniversary when tonight's outing was being planned. Robert quickly does the math—and he realizes it's been exactly a month to the day since he revealed his identity to the team at 3:00 AM tacos, and they sprung a surprise housewarming party on him the very same evening—which even Flambae attended, albeit very fashionably late.
It feels like a lifetime ago now.
Flambae is looking at him with a mixture of condescension and concern. Robert folds his arms firmly over his chest and lets his eyes fall to an unimpressed half-mast.
"... I didn't realize you were going to be so punctual about it," he flatly replies.
(edit: this fic is now on ao3!)
I’ve been rotating my Danganronpa 2 postcanon stuff in my head so much lately… mostly with Hajime being miserable w the whole Akio situation and Akane being the first one to put the pieces together (I love her.) And Hajime not knowing if Nagito will ever wake up so he’s holding on to the only thing he has left of him but he’s also terrified.
Also if you’re new here this is a badly written summary of what’s going on
art i did for my vaugardeposting blog :3 siffrin selfie!