A/N: Trigger warning for thoughts of self harm, and there will be major instances of self harm in this story from this point on. This is not a kid fic anymore.Please enjoy!

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It was hours later, nearing noon, that Fresh woke up. He looked out the window and could see the cave lights filter through the curtains. It seemed to be a late start today. He looked down at Ink to see if he was still asleep, and Ink seemed to be dead-tired, even as he slept; he probably wasn't going to wake up anytime soon without encouragement.

Bro must have been more tired than I thought.Fresh hummed, slipping out of bed and going to the kitchen to heat up some pancakes.

The further he walked through the cabin, the more he realized why Ink was so tired. Now, Fresh liked to keep the place tidy, but he also dealt with children on a regular basis. Messes were to be expected. He stopped in the kitchen with a conflicted look. The cabin hadn't looked this clean since he'd bought the place. It appeared that Ink had cleaned any traces of even minor imperfections in the cabin, all the way down to the most minute pieces of slightly chipped paint or splintered wood.

Scratch that. It was cleaner.

"I'm...not sure how to feel about this." Fresh muttered to himself; he pondered this new development while he heated up some pancakes.

Maybe he could set a bedtime? He was allowed to do that, right? He was fairly certain that was allowed by the rules. But would Ink think that was a punishment? If he set a bedtime in response to the cleaning, then it could have been seen as a punishment or correction. He didn't want Ink to think he did wrong by being helpful, even if his motives were the life style he had grown accustomed to. Fresh pulled the papers from yesterday out while he ate. Perhaps there was something in here that could give him a clue what to do. He looked first for anything about bedtimes. There were only a few rules regarding bedtimes, but they were there.

Setting a bedtime is recommended for time scheduling; if you decide to set a bedtime, make sure that you hold to it - this will promote more trust; if you set a bedtime, setting a strict time to wake up most days is also recommended, but not essential; using force to enforce bedtimes and waking times will likely be necessary, depending on the habits of the slave in question - slaves should not be heavy sleepers, and they should be trained to sleep lightly (this involves severe torture tactics over a long period of time, but it is possible).

Fresh sighed. The more he read...he'd just have to make sure Ink knew he appreciated the cleaning, but he still needed a schedule. He wouldnothave been torturing the poor guy into being a light sleeper however; that part was going out the window. But structure was good, right? Like with kids, one needed to give them structure so they felt safe. Fresh could do that.

The kitchen was spotless; Ink had even cleaned the insides of the drawers and cabinets. Fresh washed his dishes and put them away once dry, noticing the level of cleanliness. Maybe it wouldn't hurt though to let him help with clean up. Maybe.

He left the kitchen to check on Ink, who was still asleep in the bed; at this rate, he probably wouldn't wake until noon or later. Fresh considered waking him, so the new schedule he had in mind wouldn't be too hard to adjust to; he didn't want Ink awake when it was time to sleep. But...he also wasn't sure when Ink had finally gone to bed. He decided to wait. Ink was still recovering and needed the rest; this would be alright.

He went to the living room to make a few calls to check on the kids while he waited.

Ink had cleaned every minute spot out of the fabric of the couch - even stains that might have been there for years. Fresh sat down and lifted a pillow; they'd never been so fluffy...

"Note ta self, let Ink help clean." While he didn't want Ink to be a slave for him (despite what he'd agreed to), it only made sense for him to help around the house. After all, he lived here now.

Which reminded him...

Fresh called Blue, to check in on things there; there was no doubt Ink's absence had been noticed on a wider scale now. Blue answered the phone exactly 6.7 seconds after Fresh had pressed the call button.

"Hello!" Blue greeted. "Is this Fresh?"

"Dat's rightio, brolio. How's it hangin'? Anythin' new goin'on since we left ya last?"

"Oh, yes, just a bit!" Blue confirmed. "Dream and I have found a temporary replacement for Ink in the Star Sanses, which has lightened the load on us alot,and everything's doing all right now! Is Ink all right?"

"He's adjustin'. He's sleepin' in today. He had a long day yesterday." Fresh sighed, rubbing a hand down his face; he didn't feel comfortable bringing up the new arrangement, but hopefully he could get in touch with someone familiar with sort of thing later.

"Ah, I see." Blue responded. "Well, I hope he gets better soon; can you give him a get-well-soon hug for me?"

"I can do dat." Fresh hummed. "Question doe, how are da others in ya worlds respondin' ta him bein' gone? Didja...tell them what happened?"

"Yes, they know. It's a bit tense in the multiverse, but Nightmare's gang isn't attacking worlds too frequently right now, and Error hasn't been destroying too much, either, so we've got some time to let everything settle without too much interference. Some of his closer friends, me included, were a bit shaken up..but we're doing okay. I'm sure they'll all be glad to know that Ink's doing a bit better, though!"

Fresh nodded along, tucking this information away. The Error had been a good guy. He was thankful some things never changed. But the gang...he knew next to nothing about these adult versions. They could have been good people forced to do bad things like their kiddo selves, or they could have been- a whole lot worse.

He would need to keep an eye on that.

"Dat's good ta hear. An' his injuries are all healed up, so dey'll be glad ta hear dat, fo' sure." Fresh said. "I'll be sure to let him kno' ya'll's are thinkin' o' him."

"Oh, that's great!" Blue was relieved to hear that. "Thank you! I'll tell them. And, um, Ink can be a biteccentricat times..if you have any questions about his behavior, you can ask me - for, uh, clarity, he's been known to watch people when they're sleeping..it's a bit creepy. Don't get freaked out, 'kay?"

Fresh couldn't help but think Blue didn't even know the half of it. "I'll keep dat in mind. Anythin' else I should kno' 'bout?"

"Um, he has a few things he just doesn't like in general that would be good to steer clear of." Blue informed. "If he's painting, he's always super focused, and if you startle him, hewilljump; he always gets really upset when a painting's ruined like that. That really goes for just about anything he's focused on, though..I don't know why. If he comes out of it himself, he's fine, but he's always jittery when he's interrupted. Also, he's addicted to chocolate - yes, it's a disease, and if you have any chocolate in your home, it's probably already gone. If it isn't, try to hide it. That's about it, I think."

The jumping was obviously a side effect of his time with Broomie. The corruption demon had no doubt taken great delight in scaring him before doing worse.

The chocolate, though...well, it looked as if Fresh was going to have to check his stash.

He chuckled lightly. "No more chocolate in da house, got it."

"Heh, yep." Blue chuckled. "So, do you need anything else? I've got plenty of time!"

"Jus' wonderin' when'd be a good time ta pop over fer a visit."

"Well, let me take a look at my schedule and compare it to Dream's; he wants to see Ink, too." Blue went silent for a good three minutes before picking his phone up once more. "Okay, so, we're kinda busy with the hectic state of things right now, but I used Papy's phone to call Dream, and we're both pretty busy until next Tuesday, nine days from now..is that all right with you?"

That would give him time to get things settled with the new arrangement - to figure out what he's going to tell and not tell those in Ink's Multiverse.

"Dat sounds rad, broski." Fresh said. "I'll tell Ink when he wakes up. I'm sure he'll like dat."

"Thanks." Blue replied. "Take care of him, okay?"

"I will." Fresh assured him.

"All right. Good bye, then?"

"Yeah, catch ya on da flip side, Blue dude."

"Bye." Blue hung up.

Fresh took the time to call up Gaster and Killer. Gaster confirmed the twins were all right, but they wanted to come home. Fresh told him he would let him know when would be a good time for them to come home. In the meantime, things were still settling. Killer confirmed the Murder Club and the Swap kiddos were all right, too. That took about two hours before he was finished, and it was coming up to lunch time. He decided to prepare something for when Ink woke up. He hoped he like liked spaghetti. Ink did not stir from the noise in the kitchen; he was a very heavy sleeper. Fresh finished the food within half an hour. He thankfully still had some left over spaghetti sauce in the fridge; he had forgotten about that the day before. There was also the pizza; he nibbled on a slice as he worked.

When he was finished, he went to the bedroom to check on Ink again. If he wasn't awake yet, then this time he would wake him. The skeleton was still asleep, curled up in the bed. It seemed that the only thing he had made messier last night was the bed; he had kicked the covers at some point, and they were now on the floor. Fresh chuckled and lifted the blankets back onto the bed before sitting next to Ink.

He laid a hand on Ink's shoulder and said softly, "Yo, Ink ma dude. Time ta wake up, bro."

Ink's eyesockets opened slowly, and he sat up soon enough, looking up at Fresh.

"What time is it..?" He asked, yawning and rubbing his eyesockets.

"Around noon, bro. You were, uh...ya were busy last night." Fresh smiled lightly. "Da place has never looked better."

"Wh-what?!"Ink's eyesockets shot open; he was supposed to have been uphoursago! He had planned to see if any of Fresh's clothes needed mending, and he justhadto vacuum! "Wh-why'd you let me sleep in?"

"Ya looked like ya needed it, bro." Fresh told him, brows raised. "May 'ave got yer injuries healed an' all, but ya still need sleep ta fully recover."

"I'm fine, though." Ink assured, getting out of bed and beginning to make it; he couldn't let his master down! "I've got to get to work!"

"What work?" Fresh blinked. "Ya cleaned da house spotless! Other den da dishes I just used ta make lunch, or yer case breakfast, der's nothin' left to do."

"Well, I need to make sure you have no holes in your clothes, vacuum, check for termites or cockroaches, clean the gutters and the roof, tend to the garden if you have one, tidy up the yard, and so muchmore!"Ink refused to let such trivial things go undone.

Fresh blinked again. "Dat's quite da list ya got fer yerself..." He hummed and tilted his skull; he might have been able to knock a few of those chores of Ink's list. "Ya gotta eat somethin' first, but do ya think ya can finish all dat before nine o'clock? I did some thinkin' dis mornin,' an' I think we's need a set bedtime. No more late night cleanin.'"

"Oh, definitely!" Ink nodded eagerly, not even noticing that he was still in pajamas as he walked out into the kitchen; he wanted to eat fast and get to work as soon as possible!

Fresh shook his head in exasperation. Apparently, he wasn't going to dissuade Ink from his chores anytime soon.

He followed the other into the kitchen and served up two plates of spaghetti. "Do ya want any parmesan?"

"No, thank you." Ink shook his skull, beginning to eat faster than was good for him.

"Slow down, Ink. Yer gonna make yer self sick." Fresh scolded, sitting down on the other side of the table.

"Yes, mast- Fresh." Ink slowed down his eating speed considerably.

"Mhm..." Fresh ate his own food, a thoughtful look on his face. Those slip-ups were becoming more common; he was going to have to do something about those.

Ink finished eating soon enough, and when he was done, he washed his plate and utensils before putting them away neatly. He proceeded to look to Fresh.

"What should I do first, Fresh?" Ink inquired.

"Get dressed fer da day." Fresh set his dishes in the sink and nodded towards the hall. "Ya still in ya pajamas. Ya can borrow more o'my clothes again. Later we can see 'bouts retrieving yer own from yer house."

"Oh, um, yes, Fresh." Ink chuckled nervously, before going into the bedroom to change; he came out with a purple and blue outfit that was too big for him, but he didn't mind. "Okay, I'm all dressed! What shall I do first, m- Fresh?"

"I guess ya can start on da vacuuming. I'll get started on da gutters." Fresh held up a hand to stop any arguments. "An' don' say I don' gotta. I'm doin' it anyway. Understood?"

"Um..yes, Fresh." Ink nodded, understanding.

After finding the vacuum, Ink plugged it in and turned it on. He would make this cabin even more spotless than it had been before! Fresh went outside and poofed to the roof with cleaning supplies for the roof. He got to work on cleaning out the snow first and then the pine needles, while Ink vacuumed every inch of floor at least three times, and he made sure to vacuum under rugs. Thanks to Ink's thorough cleaning, Fresh was able to properly clean the whole roof off; snow certainly piled up quick around here. The kids would love all the new snow piles to play in. After finishing the floor, Ink vacuumed the walls and ceiling, as well as the windows, of which he made a mental note to wash later. Ink also vacuumed under the couch cusions, inside lamps, and just about anywhere else he could think of. Fresh jumped off the roof and sank into the snow. Laughing, he climbed out of the him-shaped-hole he created and began to tidy up the yard; there wasn't much that needed to be done out here. Ink put the vacuum away, deciding to tend to clothing next. He went to Fresh's bedroom and looked through the dressers, looking for eventinyholes to mend, and he found some stylish jeans with rips in the knees and few small holes in a couple t-shirts. Ink smiled, grabbing the clothing and creating some needles, denim, and string, beginning to make the clothes just like new.

Fresh finished with the yard and came back inside after a couple hours of work. He kicked the snow off his shoes just outside the door and took them off to hang them to dry on the shoe rack. He felt bad putting them down; Ink had cleaned even the shoe rack...it was so shiny. He sighed and took off his jacket, hanging it up as well. He would have to make it up to Ink with some hot chocolate.

If there were still some in the house...

Maybe he could...tweaka few things to get himself some packets. It shouldn't have hurt anything. He entered the kitchen and started to search the cupboards for the elusive treat.

By the time Fresh entered the house, Ink had already mended the clothes (as well as a pesky blanket that had been torn at some point), and now he was looking for insect infestations; it wouldn't do to have termites or other insects waltzing around his master's home! Thankfully for Ink and Fresh, there were no signs of insects. Only a common house spider who lived in the the corner of the closet; the corner had been decorated to look like a cute little home. There was even a small sign that said, [Mr. Leggy's sweet crib]; it was written in a child's handwriting. Ink was content to leave that one alone; it looked as if it were a pet. With no trace of any offending insects, Ink began to go outside to wash the windows. The windows were somewhat dusty with snow powder, but they were otherwise okay. Ink cleaned them anyway; he needed to make themspotless!When he finished, he went inside to see if his master needed anything; he was there to serve, after all! Fresh had just been about to go look for Ink when he walked in.

"Ah, dere ya are. Thought we could use a break an' made up some some radtastic treats." He jerked his thumb to the kitchen with a smile.

"Oh, um, all right." Ink followed Fresh into the kitchen. "Can I help with anything?"

"Sure can! Grab a couple mugs, would ya?" Fresh pointed to the cabinets next to the sink.

"Yes, Fresh!" Ink complied, retrieving two mugs and setting them down in front of his master.

"Thanks, Ink."

Fresh set down a bag of marshmallows next to the mugs and picked one up. He turned to the stove next to him and lifted the lid off a pot. A sweet smell wafted through the room as he filled the mug with the delectable brown liquid from within; he set that one down and quickly ladled more liquid into the other mug.

"How many mallows do ya like in yer cocoa?" He asked.

"Uh, none, thank you." Ink shook his skull; he didn't want to be greedy..and he also didn't typically put marshmallows in his hot chocolate, anyway.

Fresh nodded and handed Ink his mug, along with a plate of freshly baked almond thumbprint cookies with strawberry jam. Not the usual cookie to accompany hot chocolate, but they were quicker to make than other kinds. He then added a heaping amount of marshmallows to his own hot chocolate and sat down at the table with his snack.

"Thank you, mast-Fresh." Ink smiled, accepting the food and drink gratefully..but he had to ssk something first. "But..um..do you think I reallydeservethis?"

Fresh rose a brow at the slip up; he really needed to address that. "I do think so. Ya worked hard last night an' today. Fer dat, ya get a treat. Just, uh...don' expect chocolate too often."

Fresh still remembered Blue's warning. He thought the Sans was exaggerating, but he would keep that in mind. Good thing he kept the sweets hidden. Nightmare had a sweet tooth like nobody's business.

"Understood..thank you." Ink nodded, savoring the hot chocolate; he had a feeling that someone had told Fresh about his addiction...

"You're welcome." Fresh leaned back in his chair and enjoyed his own drink. This was nice - a moment to relax after a hard day's work.

Ink took his time in drinking his hot chocolate; if he wasn't going to have chocolate for a while, he would have to savor what he had.

"It good?" Fresh asked, as he took a bite of a cookie.

"Very - thank you, again." Ink confirmed.

"No prob." Fresh smiled, going back to his cookies; this was one of his favorite recipes.

When they were finished with their snack, it was around three o'clock. Ink was ready to get back to work; he needed to make his master happy, after all!

"Is there anything you'd like me to do, mast-Fresh?" He wondered.

"Let's start wit dat." Fresh frowned, before smoothing his face out to something neutral. "Doe's slip ups are gettin' pretty common. Need ya ta work dat, aight?"

"Ah..yes.." Ink sighed, looking down. "I'm just..reallyused to calling my master 'master,' and, um..it's a bit hard to break the habit. I'm really sorry, and I'll definitely do better..I'll accept any punishment you wish to give me."

Fresh took a moment to think; he was going to need to do something, wasn't he? His options were limited however. He wouldn't take food away from Ink. From what he'd read in the rules, that was something rare for'slaves.'He planned to make it clear to Ink food was a necessity, not a luxury. He doubted grounding Ink like he would his kids was going to be effective, nor did Ink have a favorite toy to put on the naughty shelf. Again, he wasn't a child.

What options did that leave Fresh?

With a thoughtful look, he pulled out a rubber band and placed it around Ink's wrist. "When ya notice ya slip inta da habit, pull back da band. Da sting will help remind ya."

"Y-yes, Fresh." Ink nodded, accepting the punishment; he wasn't going to question the simplicity - he merely needed to hold himself accountable for his actions and words.

Fresh nodded, satisfied with that. He was fairly confident this would work.

"Do you want me to do anything specific for you, Fresh?" Ink offered. "Or should I continue with the housework?"

"How's 'bout we go pick up yer clothes?" Fresh suggested; he didn't believe there was anything else left to clean - any more scrubbing, and the house might have disappeared.

"All right." Ink smiled; he believed that it would be nice to wear clothes that fit him instead of wearing out his master's clothes.

Fresh nodded and stood up. He placed his dirty dishes in the sink and started to wash them. "Imma do dee's real quick an'den we'll head out, aight?"

"Do you want me to help, or even do it myself?" Ink inquired.

"If ya want, ya can dry dem." Fresh pointed to the kitchen cloth hanging over the counter.

"All right." Ink walked over, grabbing the cloth and preparing to dry.

Fresh handed him the now-clean mug before starting on the plate, and Ink dried it, before putting it away neatly. Fresh handed him each plate and the other mug as he finished them. Once they were done, he dried his hands on another cloth.

"Ya ready ta go den?" He asked.

"Ready." Ink confirmed, putting the last dish away.

"Aight." Fresh opened a portal to Ink's house; he still had the coordinates from before, and the barrier was easy to open the second time around.

Ink walked through the portal, smiling at the sight of his house; he had missed it. Fresh followed him through and tucked his hands in his pockets. He closed the portal behind them and walked up to the house as Ink did. After a bit of fiddling with the doorknob, Ink opened the door and let his master in, gesturing for him to enter first.

"Thanks, bro." Fresh stepped through and to the side for Ink to enter. "We can stay as long as ya need, aight?"

"All right." Ink entered the house, before closing the door behind him. "I can go get my clothes, now, if you want me to."

"Aight. Grab anthin' else ya might like ta bring too." Fresh paused, eyelights darting to a particular door. His accent dropped for moment. "Just nothing from the basement. Understood?"

"Yes, Fresh." Ink nodded in understanding. "I understand."

Ink went upstairs to his room and began to grab any clothes he was willing to keep, including his sash and vials, which he placed under his clothes; he would need those from now on..he hoped he remembered to take them. He didn't take any of his more..intimidatingoutfits. He didn't need them anymore. Fresh didn't want him to torture people anymore, and so he would do his best to resist his urges - that included the outfits that he used when torturing victims. They were stained with blood, anyway. After packing up his clothes, Ink's Ink's eyelights drifted over to some art supplies that he had left on his desk. He..might have had some free time in Fresh's service. Ink decided to go to his art studio, collecting anything he might have needed when creating a masterpiece. With that done, he was ready-

Okay, justonemore thing!

Ink grabbed a third (larger) suitcase, went down to the kitchen, and opened his cabinets; they were fully stocked with different types of exquisite chocolates. He didn't think this was insane. This was the way his kitchen had been for decades. He only needed one cabinet and the fridge to hold any other foodstuffs he might have needed.

After his suitcases were full, Ink returned to Fresh.

Fresh stood up from the couch. "Is dat everything?"

"Yep!" Ink grinned, ready to go!

"Aight." Fresh nodded, opening a portal back to the cabin; he lifted two of Ink's suitcases and stepped through.

Ink followed his master through, carrying the largest suitcase; it smelled like chocolate. Fresh had noticed, but he chose not to comment. If Ink wanted to bring that, then Fresh wasn't going to stop him. Just might have meant less sweets until he was certain the stash was depleted. He took the bags to the the bedroom and set them on the bed. He then looked around and found an empty spot by the door. He snapped his fingers, and a new dresser stood in place. Ink understood the purpose of the new furniture, grabbing the suitcase with his clothes and putting his outfits inside the dresser. He then opened the suitcase of art supplies, wondering where to put his tools...

Fresh noticed his predicament and went to the wall. This one would require some tuning. He tapped into the code of the wall and created a cabinet; where there logically shouldn't have been any room for one, there was now a sizable cabinet.

He stepped back and smiled. "Dere ya go!"

"O-oh, um, thank you!" Ink smiled gratefully, putting his art supplies in the cabinet. "You didn't have to do that, you know.."

"Well, wher' else were ya gonna put dem?" Fresh chuckled. "Tomorrow I'll see 'bout gettin' ya yer own room added to da cabin. Dat way ya can hav' yer own space when ya wan' it."

Ink looked down, before looking up at Fresh with a conflicted expression. "Are you sure..a slave should have so much? I mean..it would just be more of a hassle for you, and you shouldn't have any hassles with me around.."

Fresh walked over to Ink and laid a hand on his shoulder. "If I didn' think I could 'andle it, den I wouldn' do it. It ain't a hassle ta meh." He gave him a kind smile. "An' I believe we've already established I ain't like most...masters.Imma do things different."

Ink smiled softly at Fresh; he was glad that he had such a kind master. "Thank you..it..really means a lot to me.."

Fresh pulled Ink into a side hug and gently squeezed him. "No prob, bro. Now...howza 'bout we head out an' see what still needs doin.'"

"All right." Ink brought out a list of various chores; some of them had checkmarks next to them, while others did not.

"What's next on da list?" Fresh crossed his arms.

"Uh.." Ink hummed, looking at the list. "Laundry, ironing, checking lightbulbs, repainting the walls, checking the food supply, making you happy, checking the stability of the furniture, and, if you have an attic or basement, doing anything that needs to be done in there."

Fresh felt tired just listening to that list. And mildly disturbed that he was on it. "Aight...if we throw the laundry in da wash first, den we can move on ta da rest. I say we do da lights an' furniture 'foe da rest. Da attic is a big one, so it gonna hav' ta wait 'til tomorrow."

"All right."

Ink began to look for any clothes that needed washing, finding a basket of dirty clothes in Fresh's closet and a larger one in the twins' room. Ink picked up both of them, stacking the smaller on top of the larger, and he went to the laundry room. Fresh got started on checking the furniture. He started in the bedroom with the dressers and bed, since he was already in there. Ink put a load of clothes into the washing machine, making sure to usejustthe right amount of laundry detergent before turning the machine on, and Fresh concluded the furniture in the bedroom was stable; nothing wobbled, and all the screws were in tight. He moved on to the twins' room. Their bunk bed needed some work...it wobbled a touch. It was nothing to be concerned about, but Dream needed to stop jumping on the top bunk; Fresh got out some tools and started working on it.

Once the laundry was on, Ink went into one of the rooms and opened the windows; the paint needed to be redone, and he was the person to do it! He created some paint (which may or may not have been laced with a protection spell,justin case) and a paint roller, and he began to repaint the bedroom first. Any furniture that was in his way was moved to the side gently. Meanwhile, Fresh finished with the bunk bed and checked the play table and dressers in the room. Other than the table needing to be replaced (One of the legs was shorter for some reason. How had that happened?), the rest was fine. A few chips in the paint, but he was sure Dream would cover those with stickers or something of the like. The child thought of it like putting band-aids on a boo boo.

Fresh soon went and checked on Ink, finding him back in the master bedroom. He hadn't expected him to get started on the painting so soon, but that was all right. It would be fine. Fresh moved on to living room and checked for any unevenness with the legs of the coffee table. It didn't wobble. He then went to the couch. He knew one of the back legs was loose and was prone to falling off whenever he needed to move it. He had hurt his foot that first time he had tried reorganizing the room. Now seemed as good a time as any to get that fixed.

Ink hummed a tune as he painted, making sure to distribute the paint evenly; it was a good thing he was an artist. Speaking of being an artist..he may have added a few designs to the otherwise-plain wall..he just hated to see a canvas go without being used. He would paint over the designs if his master really wanted him to, though. Once he finished with this bedroom, he moved on to the other. Judging by the way this room was already designed, he assumed children stayed here; he made sure to add some whimsical designs to the walls here, too, making the room feel as if it were in a dark, magical forest. If his master didn't like it, he could change the design at any time!

While it took flipping the entire thing over, Fresh finally got the stupid leg to stay put. He really had been putting this off, but it was finally done. He righted the couch once more and and went to check on Ink, where he was stunned by the change in the twins' room. The walls were no longer the plain green they had been previously. Now they were...

"Hot diggety...Ink, did you do dis?" He asked in awe.

He knew Ink was an artist, but...he would definitely need to get to work on that room for Ink. Somewhere he could continue his creative endeavors. The amount of care evident in each stroke was clear.

"Um..yes?" Ink smiled nervously; did his master like it? Or..did hehateit? "Do you like it?"

"Dude, dis is amazing!" Fresh grinned. "Da kiddos are gonna love it! Thanks, bro!"

"Th-thank you." Ink was glad that Fresh liked his work; he had done something right!

"Of course, broski. Ya doin' great." Fresh's smile softened and he walked over to give Ink a side hug. He really was grateful for this; this was above and beyond what he expected when Ink said he was going to touch up the paint. "Imma go finish up wit da furniture and bulbs an' things, but if ya need somthin' den just call, aight?"

"Okay." Ink nodded. "I still need to paint a few more rooms..do you want any specific colors or designs anywhere?"

Fresh hummed and tilted his head. "Not particularly. Kindas like what ya got goin' 'ere. Mayhaps somthin' like dis? But...woodsier? Somethin' cozy an' fits da cabin feel, ya dig?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Kinda vague dere, huh? Sorry...i's like just 'bouts anythin' really."

"I can do that!" Ink assured. "I'll get right on it, ma- Fresh!"

Ink had been right; the rubber band didn't hurt. He was still going to try to stop messing up his words, though.

"I'll go do that now!" He picked up, walking out to the living room.

"Aight." Fresh nodded and went the kitchen to check the table and chairs. Just as he expected, they were fine. He proceeded to check the light bulbs for any that looked to be in need of changing soon, making a mental note to pick up more bulbs the next time he went shopping.

Ink went into the living room first, and he envisioned the design his master wanted in his mind; he knew what it would look like when he finished, and it would lookgreat!He got to work, painting a dark grassy field on the bottom of the wall to start; he would work on the leaf cover above while he waited for the grass to dry, and after it did, he would paint the trunks of trees at varying distances; any place that didn't get a tree would either give way to darkness or the occasional hidden freshwater spring or lake. Fresh passed Ink by, nodding in approval at the progress, going to through each room to check all the bulbs. Ink began work on the leaf cover soon enough, and he put careful detail into it; some hidden branches grew fruits, just to add a bit of color to the otherwise-green palette. The bulbs didn't take long, and Fresh went back to the kitchen to check the pantry and cabinets. Ink had said something about the food...Fresh knew he needed to go grocery shopping soon, so seeing what else he needed to pick up would have been good. When the grass had dried, Ink began the tree trunks, making sure that the bark wasjustright! Fresh scratched off candy from his old list and replaced it with fruit. They needed to cut back on the sweets for a while. The part that took the least amount of time was the addition of springs and lakes; they offered a nice, calming blue to the forest scene, though - this was definitely a case of quality over quantity. Fresh finished with the grocery list about half an hour later and looked at the clock. It was rolling around six o'clock - time for dinner.

He set his list aside and poked his head through the door way to the living room. "Yo, bro? How ya feel 'bout tuna casserole for dinner?"

Ink had just finished his work when Fresh popped in - what great timing! The living room now had a cozy cottage theme, with plenty of warmth and comfort in the design. When his master brought up the topic of food (specificallythefood), Ink held back a gag; he..had never enjoyed seafood. Ever. It was one of his least favorite things in the world. He disliked it so much that he typically told people that he was allergic; they didn't ask questions if he said that.

But..this was his master. His master's preferences outweighed his own, and if his master wanted seafood, he would endure it..asdisgustingas it sounded.

"Sounds great!" Ink lied; he didn't enjoy lying, but making his master happy in such an unimportant area was more important than enjoying the food he ate.

Fortunately for Ink, Fresh caught Ink's expression before he could change it; he held back a smirk and said thoughtfully, "On second thought...how 'bout beef stew instead?"

"Um, okay!" Ink smiled more genuinely this time; he enjoyed beef stew greatly.

Fresh chuckled and shook his head. "Aight. Next time doe, jus' tell me if ya don' like somethin.' I ain't gonna get mad at ya fer havin' a preference."

Ink chuckled nervously; he should have known that his master would catch on.. "Thanks..I will."

After a brief moment of silence, Ink decided to see whether he had done a good job with the painting or if he would have to do it again.

"So, um..do you like it?" He wondered.

Fresh nodded, smiling gratefully. "Yeah, it looks fantastic, bro. Ya really goin' above an' beyond. Thank ya."

"Thank you." Ink smiled gratefully; he would do the kitchen next, after dinner. "May I make the food? Or at least help you?"

"Ya can help if like, yeah." Fresh said, nodding to the kitchen. "Come on, let's get started den."

He led the way in and started grabbing what they needed, and Ink followed Fresh into the kitchen, pulling out a pot that he believed would be suitable.

"Do you have a preferred recipe?" Ink wondered.

"Not really." Fresh admitted. "Ya got somethin' in mind?"

"Something, if you'll let me." Ink nodded, writing down a recipe and showing it to his master.

Fresh took a look and nodded. "Dat looks real good! Let's do dat den."

He pulled out the ingredients that didn't match the ones on Ink's recipe and put them away, before he resumed gathering what they needed. Ink began to prepare the stew; this would be great! He started to cut the tough parts off of about three pounds of beef cubes, leaving the vegetables for after the meat. Fresh started cleaning the vegetables so they were ready when Ink was. Once they were clean, he chopped them up. When Ink was finished with the beef cubes, he took out a slow cooker and put the pot away. For a normal person, this process would have required the food to be cooked for several hours or overnight, but since Ink had a bit of help with his magic, it would only take half an hour after prep. He put the cut beef cubes into the slow cooker, and he looked over to Fresh for the vegetables.

Fresh brought the vegetables in a bowl to Ink, and Ink added the vegetables to the slow cooker with the meat, before coating the entire confection with vegetable juice. He proceeded to put some beef bouillon cubes to the side; they would dissolve into the stew when it was hot enough, which, assisted by his magic, would be in about five minutes. He added a pinch of seasoning and turned the slow cooker on, using his magic to speed up the process. Fresh, meanwhile, went to the pantry and grabbed some bread rolls. He thought they might have gone good with the soup. Retrieving some butter from the pantry, he set both to the side - the butter under a butter bowl to soften, and the rolls on a plate. They were still in their packaging to stay fresh. Ink then added the bouillon cubes into the stew, before increasing the amount that his magic would speed up the cooking; he was probably going to be a bit tired after this, but it was worth it.

Fresh started setting the table, and after twenty-five more minutes, the stew was ready to eat..and Ink was tired. He wasn't used to doing so much and expending a good amount of magic in one day..but he would be soon enough; he just needed to learn. After taking a deep breath, he spoke up.

"It's ready!" He called out to Fresh.

Fresh came over with the bowls, at which point, he looked over at Ink with a concerned look and said, "Ya look tired. Why don' ya sit down an' I'll serve us some bowls."

"I can do it, really." Ink insisted, grabbing a ladle. "It's my duty to serve, and I'll carry it out."

"An' ya did a lot of hard work today." Fresh laid his hand over Ink's. "Painted da walls real amazin' like, did da laundry, cleaned da whole house, an' a whole lot else. Ya earned da right ta sit down."

Ink's eyelights widened; he had forgotten to put the laundry in the dryer!

"Oh, no.." He covered his face; he was such afailure!"I forgot about thelaundry.."

"Dat's alright." Fresh told him calmly. "Ya still got all da rest done today and an' last night. Ya did good. Ya...ya really made me happy today."

Fresh gave him a genuine smile, trying to convey to Ink it was alright. He moved a hand to Ink's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. Ink lowered his hands, looking at Fresh with a confused expression; he had expected something..different.

"But..I messed up." He reminded. "Why aren't you punishing me? I deserve to be beaten, or tortured, or at leastyelledat.."

Fresh sighed and took one of Ink's hands in his own, rubbing over his knuckles comfortingly. "Mistakes happen. I've forgotten 'bout da laundry plenty of times. Once had ta fight off a bad dude in my pj's!" He chuckled lightly, giving Ink a kind look. "Ya did good today, Ink. I ain't gonna get mad at ya fer somethin' small when ya did so many other things."

Ink looked down, but he accepted the answer; he was too tired to argue..and he didn't want to ever argue with his master, either..that wasn't his place. He pulled away from the comforting hold, ladling some stew; he just wanted to eat. Fresh accepted his bowl and sat down at the table. He knew Ink didn't quite understand his reasoning; it would take time before Ink knew he could relax and understood he didn't have to worry about not messing up on such trivial things.

He tried the stew and hummed, smiling up at Ink. "Dis is great, Ink! Thanks!"

"Y-you're welcome.." Ink sat down with his own bowl, eating slowly; maybe he would punish himself..it wouldn't be hard to do. He could starve himself, or he could torture himself..'accidentally' fall off the bed and sleep on the floor..there were so many ways to do it.

Fresh looked from his food and frowned slightly. "What's wrong, Ink?"

"I'm just a bit tired." Ink replied, beginning to eat his food faster. "I'll get to the laundry after I'm done eating, and then I'll continue painting. Do you want the rest of the rooms to have the same feel as the living room?"

Fresh felt like that wasn't the full truth, but he wouldn't push Ink to tell him. "Aight. Yeah, I really like what ya did in dere. I think dat would look good in da rest o' da house. Just remember dat nine o'clock is bedtime. Whatever ya don' finish today can wait 'til tomorrow."

"All right." Ink nodded. "I'll remember."

Ink finished his food quickly, before washing his dishes and going to the laundry room; he finally put the laundry into the dryer, and when he was done, he went back to the kitchen to begin painting there. He didn't have much to do in there, since a lot of the wall was tiled, but the parts that weren't were going to be painted! He wouldn't let his master down. While Ink did that, Fresh went to make some calls to check on the kids again. The twins really wanted to come home...

"Why can't we?" Dream's little voice whined.

"Dere's a lot happenin' at da house right now." Fresh explained for the fifth time. He was in his room, door cracked so he could hear Ink if needed.

"What is?"

"'Member dat adult ya were askin' 'bout? Da one dat looked like yer new friend, Inky?"

"Mhm..."

"He's goin' a rough time right now an' is still settlin' in. When he's feelin' better den ya two can come home fer good, okay?"

"Does that mean we can visit?"

"Yep. Imma make 'em a room fer 'emself tomorrow, but after dat it should be alright fer ya ta visit."

"Really?!"

Fresh chuckled fondly. "Really. Is your brother there?"

"Uh-huh! Here he is!"

There was some shuffling heard before another voice was heard, this one a little echoey. "Hi, Dad."

"Hey, Nightmare. How ya feelin'?"

"I'm okay...Mr. Gaster made us cookies today. And tacos."

"Really? Dat's great! What kind o' cookies?"

"Chocolate chip."

"Doe's are yer favorite. Didja 'memeber ta say thank you?"

"Mhm... Dad?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"You told Dream we can't come home yet...is grownup Ink bad?"

Fresh held back a sigh, expression saddened. "Someone real bad used ta make 'em do bad things. But he's tryin' ta be good now. An' long as I'm 'round, an' he kno's yer my kids, he ain't gonna hurt ya. Okay? Daddy wouldn't let anyone hurt ya."

"...I know."

"Ya still scared?"

"...A little."

"Want me ta sing ya a bedtime song before I go?"

"Mhm..."

"Aight. Put me on speaker, and you two's get under the covers."

There was more rustling. Soon two little voices piped up, ready for bed.

Fresh took a deep breath and started singing,

"As ya go through life ya'll see~"

"Dere is so much that we don' understand~"

"An' da only ting we know~"

"Is tings don' always go~"

"Da way we planned~"

"Da day shall soon break...~"

When he heard quiet breathing, he hung up with a small "Goodnight."

Ink soon finished the kitchen, which had a similar look to the living room, but with one small difference: he had painted birch trees instead of oak trees. Once he was done, he went to the laundry room to iron the clothes; he finished the task five minures before bedtime, and he spent the last bits of his time putting the clothes away neatly. When bedtime arrived, Ink was ready for some sleep..he had done a lot today. Fresh was already in his pajamas. After the phone call with his sons, he had made a few more calls to make sure everything was still good in the multiverse, and everything seemed to be in order.

"Hey, Ink. Ready fer bed?" He asked Ink as he came in the room.

"Yep!" Ink confirmed. "Do you want to be cuddled to sleep again?"

"...If ya want ta. Ya don' hav' ta if ya don' wanna." Fresh told him; he didn't mind cuddles, but this felt strange when offered like this.

"I'd like to." Ink insisted; in all honesty, he was hoping that Fresh would cuddle him back..he needed it..but he would haveneversaid that out loud, of course!

Fresh tilted his head and considered. He couldn't find anything wrong with it, and if Ink was okay with it...

"Aight den." Fresh pulled back the covers and patted the bed next to him with a small smile.

Ink smiled, getting under the covers and beginning to cuddle Fresh; he was happy to accomodate his master's wishes (and a bit of his own, too). Fresh pulled the blankets over them and leaned into Ink, returning the gesture. He hugged Ink to him, enjoying the closeness, and Ink felt comforted, ready for anything..especiallysleep;he fell asleep before his master could. Fresh hummed, still hugging Ink. He was glad Ink was finally getting some rest. Tomorrow would be an easier day. They were gonna take a break and just relax. He'd add Ink's room to the house, but other than that...

Oh! And he still needed to tell Ink about the visit in a few days. That would be fun.

With those thoughts in mind, Fresh drifted off to sleep.