Work Header

House Stuck

Chapter Text

Beige walls, gross. Who ever though that was a nice color to paint an office space? Something exciting, maybe a nice cerulean, would be perfect. Vriska continued to ponder the dullness of the office a.k.a holding pen that she waited in.


Hmmmm, beige reminded her of Tavros. A complete push-over, boring too.  She’d usually go and visit him, and get him to buy her a burger and some fancy new shoes or whatever else, on an afternoon like this. Too bad it’d been nearly a year since she’d been allowed to do something as simple as visit friends. Having a life is hard when your home becomes your prison cell.


The door opened with a slight creak as she glanced over at the plain looking woman that had just entered the small undecorated office, and sat down on the opposite side of the desk, facing Vriska.


“Miss Serket, would you please remove your feet from the furniture?”


The newcomer was nothing special really, short brown hair and dressed in some weird-ass suit/skirt combo, a look worn by a million other women out there, with a name tag that read Latula Pyrope. Totally average, and completely normal. Did anyone in this place have a sense of individuality in them? Apparently not, considering their job was to bust her ass over her little forays into the thrilling world of crime, for the greater good or whatever bullshit they chose to justify it with now.


“Ahhh, Pyrope, you must be my eighth probation officer?”

She stated with a smirk, “Eight is my lucky number, after all”

“Call me Latula, and co-operation would be awesome, as I don’t think the department has much more patience for your shenanigans, Vriska.”

“Not like they have much choice, ain’t much they can do to alter my arrest time. Besides, I’m suuuuuuuure you’ll adjust to my charming personality, eventually”


Vriska’s feet were still propped up on the office desk, metal spikes glued onto the heels more than likely leaving scratches on the wood finish.


“Well that may be so, but I’m sure you’d rather be out in the world, than failing house arrest again.” Latula stated matter-of-factly “Because there are other alternatives they may consider.”


A frown appeared on Vriska’s face at these words. It was a reminder, that no matter how blasé she acted about the whole deal, that she couldn’t fuck up this time, or they might actually ship her off to some other city with an actual juvenile detainment center.


“Anyway, I assume you know the conditions of your house arrest? Staying out of exclusion zones, filing your request for essential leave time each week and not attempting to remove the tracking unit?” Latula continued,

“And you are still required to check in every day, however since your mother is out of town, I’ll be coming over to check up on you……”


 Vriska nodded, playing with her long dark hair. She’d been under house arrest for nearly a year now, this shit was routine; like the sun rised every morning, she had to check in with her probation officer every. single. day. So she sat there, trying to drown out Latula Pyrope’s voice that repeated instructions for what must have been at least the eighth time now, blah blah blah.


So she watched the clock tick by, nodding when required, and then started to kill time by attempting to count all of the squares on the ceiling when finally, it seemed Mrs. Pyrope finished talking, and had stood up and opened the door, gesturing for Vriska to leave first.


Huh. Wasn't her officer supposed to activate the tracker now?


Latula must have sensed Vriska's confusion, and said not unkindly "I don't have to activate the gps until about 7 tonight, and you look like you could do with an afternoon with friends. Besides I've got some unpacking to do with my own daughter."


She didn’t need to be told twice, and promptly left the room, determined to make the most of her time.




Terezi awoke alone in her new bedroom, snuggled up to her plush dragon Pyralspite, quite unsure as to the cause of her sudden wakefulness. Laying there for a few minutes she finally heard the re-assuring teal sounding mumble drifting up from the stairs. Her curiosity got the better of her as she dragged herself out of bed.


It had been about a month since Terezi’s mother had accepted this new case, which meant moving away from her hometown. Not that that was a bad thing. However nothing, not even leaving behind those people, made having a totally exhausted mother worth it, at all.

Special case and a girl that required patience, or not, Terezi had had enough of this, especially considering this was the second call during the middle of the night from a Miss Vriska Serket, this week alone. Normally it would be perfectly acceptable to call one’s probation officer when in trouble, but considering it was the middle of the night, this was ridiculous. She knew nearly nothing about the Serket girl except where she lived, and that she seemed to take up ridiculous amounts of unnecessary time for everyone involved.


So understandably, Terezi was quite pissed off, by the time she walked into the kitchen and heard her sleepy mother explain, for the fifth time how to use the washing machine, whilst Latula nursed a coffee in one arm and phone in hand.


“… and then you push the dial in, hopefully it should work now.”


Terezi heard the grey monotone garble of a crappy phone spit out something in reply


“But Pyrope it’s still not working, urghhhhhhhh!”


“Calm down Vriska, I’ll be over in a minute.” Latula replied quietly.


Oh no. This would not do at all, thought Terezi.


“I’ll go mom, you just go get some sleep”




“No mom, I’m going, ok?” Terezi stated firmly.


Latula sighed, and went back to bed, coffee abandoned on the counter, as her daughter left quickly.



Terezi figured that the fifteen minute walk to Vriska’s apartment would calm her down.

Yet she was not at all surprised to find herself absolutely fuming, standing on the doorstep. Taking a deep breath, she jammed the doorbell in a few times.


She heard a bang, and someone fall over inside followed by a loud “FUCK!”


A few seconds later the door swung open to reveal someone rather tall.

It was Vriska. Terezi stood still for a moment, slightly intimidated by the rather tall and rather slim figure before her, in contrast to Terezi’s own rather petite build.


“Woah, Pyrope Jr. what the fuck?” Vriska says as Terezi elbowed her and finally shoved her way inside.


“First off, Serket,”

She spat out the name like the word itself was a curse.



Vriska blinked at her stunned silence, surprised such a small girl was capable of such an outburst. And she then made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob.


Between her anger and having an outlet for her emotion, Terezi didn’t realize Vriska Serket was obviously upset, with bloodshot eyes and smudged make-up, hiding behind a sideswpt fringe and thick-framed glasses. And she’d just torn into her without realizing this fact before. Not that she had much time to lament her ability to become short sighted by her temper, as it seemed Vriska had something to say.


“Well fuck you, you have no idea what it’s like to not have a mother. If anyone is taking anything for granted, it’s you having the constant love of a parent. My mom ran off with some dude and left me with his son, and we had to raise ourselves. Now Gamzee’s gone because of all these fucking house arrest rules, and I have no one. So fuck me, for not knowing everything, I thought it was supposed to be a good thing to ask for help. Apparently I was mistaken.” Vriska spat the words right back at her, a tangy blueberry sensation, and then continued in a quieter tone.


“I’m not trying to take away your mom, Terezi. I just want my own mother to come back and be proud that I haven’t totally fucked up.”


“Sorry for shouting at you, I guess, Ms Blueberry bitters.” Terezi mumbled awkwardly.


“Whatever. Just show me how this damn machine works.”

Vriska said as she led Terezi further into the apartment.




“Annnnnd, we’re finally done.” Terezi sighed, as they walked out of the laundry room an hour or so later. Who knew teaching someone how to use a top-loading washing machine would be so hard?


Vriska’s inability to remain patient for long would have been hilarious if it weren’t so frustrating. But they finally managed it.


“Heyyyyyyyy, would you like a glass of water?”


Terezi nodded in affirmative, as she flopped onto the large couch in Vriska’s living room, admiring the awfully mismatched furniture collection Vriska had seemed to accumulate.


 Vriska returned with a glass and sat down next to Terezi.

“So, Terezi what’s with the weird nicknames?”



Oh no.

Terezi stiffened up immediately.


“Ya’know, the whole ‘Ms. Blueberry Bitters’ thing?”


Oh no no no no, old habits do die hard.


“Nothing, you’ll think I’m weird or something.”


Vriska jabbed her in the side and said with a grin “Nah, you gotta tell me now, my house, my rules, little Pyrope.”


Oh well, nothing to lose. Not like she would ever have to see Vriska again.

“I’ve got a condition or whatever called Synesthesia. My sense of hearing is all fucked up, like some people’s voices have a different color. And yours is blueberry.”

“So yeah, kick me out or whatever, I’m pretty much a total weirdo.” Terezi sighed, turning to Vriska.


The reaction was not one she had expected. Vriska grinned at her and exclaimed “Woah, that’s actually pretty cool!”


“Hah, you’ve got to be kidding me. Everyone used to hate me for being a freak, back where I used to live.”


“Fuck them bitches, what would they know about anything, and you look pretty normal for a ‘freak’ anyway, bit on the short side though, like your mom.” Vriska said with a wink.


“Besides people probably aren’t inbreed rednecks here, like they must be where you came from”


“Obviously.” Terezi said rather dryly, standing up to leave.

“Anyway, I gotta get back before my mom starts worrying, so I trust you to be able to survive the night, you delicate damsel in distress?”


“Hahaha, whatever loser, I’m tougher than the oldest steak they serve at that shithole diner down the road. Which reminds me, you gotta come back some time and teach me how to cook. This girl needs her nourishment after all.” Vriska called as Terezi walked out the door.


“Maybe tomorrow, if I don’t get sick of your voice, Ms Blueberry!” Terezi shouted in reply, starting to walk down the pathway. Vriska watched her leave, and once Terezi disappeared from sight, she turned around and walked back inside.