#I think they should make you deal with the horrible weather

[iteration-penumbra]

A quick stop at a trading post, thank god for air conditioning.

[singularattitudeofasafetypin]

Safe With Me

Masterlist

Summary: Reader gets anxious when Eddie drives fast but is afraid to tell him in case he thinks she's boring.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: insecurity, descriptions of anxiety, reference to a parent driving dangerously when mad

Please don't steal my work

Eddie always drives like a maniac.

His rickety old van was infamous around town, careening down quiet roads and scaring the life out of their residents. Hopper had issued more tickets than he could count but nothing seemed to deter him. Maybe it was the rush it gave him? The thrill of breaking the rules or maybe he was just reckless?

Whatever it was, it just wasn’t the same for you.

Driving always made you anxious. You could count on one hand the number of times you’d driven since getting your licence. Every time you tried your mind was flooded with all the things that could go horribly wrong. Panic set in your chest. Thoughts rushing so loud you couldn’t focus on the road in front of you. You didn’t even own your own car.

But it ran deeper than that.

When you were younger, you could always tell if your dad was mad by the way he drove. Always pushing the speed limit after an argument, getting just a little too close to the car in front and yelling out the window when someone got in his way. Your heart would race, breath hitch when he broke sharply, and your foot tap on an imaginary break when he didn’t slow ‘til the last minute. Thankfully, nothing bad had ever happened to you, but it frightened you all the same.

When you and Eddie got together a few months back, the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. You’d had a crush on him forever! All it took was a push from Nancy and a shove from Dustin to find out he felt the same way.

Eddie was wonderful! The perfect boyfriend really. You couldn’t be happier.

But then he’d offered to drive you home.

You’d happily climbed into the passenger seat, smiling as he shut the door behind you. He kissed your cheek, flicked on the radio, and turned the key in the ignition.

It was all you could do not to gasp when he pulled out of the parking lot.

From the first lurch, your heart began fluttering like a bird straining against your ribs, desperate to be free of its cage. Eddie kept talking like nothing was wrong. You could barely make out his words over the noise of the radio and the rushing panic in your ears. You tried to smile and nod at what you hoped were appropriate times but adrenaline was coursing through your body, breath coming in sharp, shallow gulps.

He skidded to a halt outside your house and immediately hopped out to get the door for you.

‘Your palace, my lady!’ he grinned, helping you down by the hand with his usual theatrical flair. You smiled weakly.

‘Thanks Eddie.’

He kissed you goodbye and you did your best to smile and wave as he went tearing down the street and around the corner before letting a shaky breath out. Residual nausea beginning to dissipate as you stepped inside.

In hindsight, maybe you should have just talked to him. Told him how you felt, been honest. You know, the sort of thing you’re supposed to do in relationships but it was all still so new! You rehearsed the conversation in your mind a thousand times but it just sounded pathetic. Like you were making a big deal out of nothing. Maybe you were? ‘Just leave it!’ you thought, ‘He’ll think you’re so boring!’

So instead, you made excuses.

‘Sorry Eds, I can’t. My mum’s picking me up today!’

‘I want to bike home today. It’s so sunny!’

‘I’m going to Nancy’s, she said she’d take me.’

It was all going so well until the universe turned against you. Or rather, the weather did.

You stood under the bike shelter, staring up at the charcoal sky as fat raindrops fell hard against the roof. They spattered over the school parking lot, sloshing in puddles and trickling along the gutters while a bitter wind waxed and waned. Icy drips hit your knuckles, white as they gripped your bike’s handlebars. You sighed. Ten minutes since school ended and the sky had only gotten darker. The rain wasn’t stopping any time soon.

Tugging the yellow hood of your raincoat over your head, you ventured out into the deluge. You were busy dreading every second of the freezing ride home when your attention was caught by a familiar voice hollering your name. You couldn’t help but smile when you turned. Eddie was sprinting toward you, his own dark raincoat held over his head rather than around his shoulders while his scuffed-up trainers splashed along the ground.

‘No way am I letting you bike home in this!’ he scolded good-naturedly when he reached you, ‘Let me give you a ride home!’

Your smile faltered.

‘It’s okay Eddie…’ you searched frantically for a reason to refuse him, ‘I was just gonna call my mum!’

Sure, you were! Halfway across the parking lot, clearly heading away from school. The lie was so obvious, Eddie nearly laughed. ‘Don’t you remember? You said she was at work today!’

‘Oh yeah,’ Idiot! You cursed yourself, ‘Nancy then! We’ve actually been meaning to meet up and study.’

Eddie frowned a little, ‘She’s got that thing after school, doesn’t she? I saw her unlocking the darkroom on the way out.’

Strike two!

‘Yeah, I uh…’ your confidence crumbled, ‘I can just wait for her or something…’ The ruse was becoming thinner by the second. Eddie folded his arms.

‘What’s this actually about?’ he asked, ‘Why won’t you just let me take you home?’ His words weren’t angry or accusing, just confused, but a flicker of panic began to rise in your chest. ‘You haven’t let me drive you anywhere for weeks,’ he went on, ‘Have I done something to upset you?’

‘No!’

‘Then what is it?’ his dark brown eyes filled with worry as thunder rolled in the distance. Eddie’s arms ached from holding his coat, his fingers bitterly cold. The rain had seeped into his shoes and through his socks but he didn’t care. All that mattered was figuring out what he’d done wrong!

It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t remember anything he’d said or done that could make you pull away. You were just as content and affectionate most of the time but at the end of the school day, you couldn’t seem to lose him fast enough.

You wouldn’t look him in the eye now, your hands gripping your bike so tight he was afraid you might hurt yourself. How had he managed to screw up the best thing that had happened to him so soon?

‘Please?’ he was begging, the slight tremor in his voice betraying his fear as you bit your lip nervously, ‘Just tell me!’

‘I don’t like it when you drive fast!’

You just sort of blurted it out. No ceremony, no elegance. The words fell clumsily from your mouth, tugged almost involuntarily. Eddie didn’t say anything.

Now the words wouldn’t stop, tumbling out too fast, trying to justify. ‘I know, it’s stupid! Childish, I know!’ Despite the cold, you felt your cheeks turn warm. ‘But it just makes me really anxious and I-!’

‘Is that all?’

You stopped abruptly, looking up as an elated smile began to pull at the corner of his mouth. This wasn’t what you’d expected. His eyes held a mixture of gratitude, guilt, and hope.

‘Yeah?’ your voice came out uncertain but the smile only spread wider.

It was as though a weight had been lifted. Of course, Eddie felt awful that he’d scared you, even more so that he hadn’t even noticed. But this, this was something he could fix! He laughed a little, almost giddy with relief. ‘So then, I just won’t drive fast baby!’

You blinked in surprise, rendered speechless. Eddie shrugged his coat on at lightning speed, his hair already sodden by the time he was easing your bike from your grip. ‘Really?’ You hadn’t expected it to be that simple. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as though it was obvious.

‘Really! Now come on, you’re getting soaked!’ and without waiting for an answer, he turned and started wheeling your bike across the parking lot. You hurried after him, puddles splashing under your feet and wetting your socks.

‘You mean it?’ you asked when you reached the van. Eddie was pulling open the doors and stowing your bike safely in the back. He just nodded, opening the passenger side door next and helping you in.

He climbed in the other side, wriggling his coat off and tossing it behind him before turning the key in the ignition. You fiddled anxiously with your fingers. ‘You don’t think I’m being annoying?’ insecurity gnawed away at your stomach, ‘Or boring? Or silly? Or-? ‘

‘Sweetheart,’ Eddie interrupted, taking your hand and pressing a reassuring kiss to your fingertips. He looked up at you with those kind, warm eyes and melted your concern with his soft, tender voice, ‘I want you to feel safe with me.’

You sighed out. There was no deception, no hidden irritation or passive aggression. Eddie really meant it. He wanted you to be happy. Your peace was his priority.

‘Okay?’ he asked, still watching your face for confirmation.

You smiled shyly and nodded, ‘Okay.’

Eddie grinned back, pressing another kiss to your hand before dropping it and returning his own to the steering wheel.

True to his word, the ride home was as gentle as you could have wished for. You doubted Eddie had even driven this responsibly on his test… if he’d ever taken one. After five or ten minutes, you found the usual anxious knot that twisted in your chest had unwound. The tension in your muscles evaporated and soon you were laughing and joking with Eddie and singing along to the radio.

Before you knew it, he was pulling up outside your house. Funny, you thought, he’d been so cautious and yet the journey seemed to take half the time. You kissed his cheek and hopped down from the van.

The rain had stopped. Tarmac still dark and damp and small puddles were left here and there but blue sky and sunshine were breaking through the clouds, warming the sidewalk and glittering gold in the dew drops.

‘Can I pick you up tomorrow?’ Eddie asked, opening up the back to lift your bike out. He was tentative, worried he was pushing too far but you smiled and nodded.

‘Yes, thanks Eddie!’

You took the bike from him and turned to wheel it toward the porch when an indignant ‘Hey!’ sounded behind you. Eddie clutched at his heart, collapsing onto the side of the van gasping dramatically, ‘No goodbye kiss? Oh, cruel temptress! Is there no compassion? No mercy?’

With peals of laughter, you ran back to oblige him. He squeezed his arms around you, smiling so hard it was hardly a real kiss. This time, there was no barrier between you. No shadow, no secrets. Only the sweetness that honesty in love brings.

You walked your bike back down the garden path, waving to Eddie as the van pulled away. You watched him draw further and further down the street until he disappeared around the corner.

You smiled and rummaged for your keys. The weight on your shoulders had dissolved to nothing and somehow, you were even lighter than before.

Eddie Munson always drove like a maniac.

Until he didn’t.

Until you.

***

Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this. If you liked it, please reblog and comment! I love hearing what people thought of my writing! Check out my masterlist for more!

Taglist: @sadbitchfangirl, @neewtmas, @ladymunson

[pastelalleycat]

"It's-For-You!" Talking Telephone Toy

Ring... ring... ring... it's for you!

Transcripts below!

Eddie

[The phone rings once before it is picked up.]

Whether letter or parcel, whether rain, snow, or shine, we weather the weather and never decline! This is Eddie Dear of Eddie’s Post office speaking! How can I help you today?

[Silence.]

...Hello? Is anybody there? ...Should I say the jingle again? Okay-

[Eddie clears his throat.]

Whether letter or parcel, whether rain, snow, or shine, we weather the weather and never decline! This is Eddie Dear of Eddie’s Post office speaking! Do you need stamps? I got ‘em! Envelopes and paper? You bet! Markers, crayons, glue, glitter, tape, staples- [Takes a deep inhale to catch his breath.] I got that too!

[Silence.]

[Mumbling] ...I’m starting to think nobody’s there… Wait… I can’t remember if the phone was ringing… Maybe I was going to make a phone call... But who would I call? Well, if you’re there… Uh… Have a good day!

Barnaby

[The phone rings three times. Then it picks up.]

Hello? Hellooo?

[Silence.]

Is this a prank call, kid? Listen, I got a better joke for you- What did the bee say to the flower? I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t there! What do I look like, a BEE’s-dropper?

[Rimshot and horn honk. Barnaby laughs. Silence follows.]

….Not even a chuckle? Boy, tough crowd! Hey, you can’t blame a guy for phoning it in! How about you call me back when you got something funny to say too, little buddy! Buh bye!

Howdy

[The phone is answered in the middle of the first ring.]

You’re calling Howdy’s Place! The home of everything you need and everything you don't! Howdy Pillar at your service!

[Silence.]

...Hello? Hello! Listen, pal, time is jokes and if I’m not laughing then I don’t have time! ...Actually, I do have plenty of time in stock, it’s in aisle two next to the bananas. But …I call ‘em cuckoo clocks!

[Howdy laughs at his own joke, but it becomes softer and more embarrassed as the silence follows.]

...Alright, alright! You’re giving me nothing to work with, buddy! I only deal in funny business and it looks like you’re runnin’ low, pal! So long! You get it? Like a caterpillar! Haha!

Poppy

[The phone rings twice before it is abruptly picked up.]

Hello, this is the Partridge nest- Or I mean, this is Poppy!

[Silence.]

…Hello? Dear? Are you there? I can’t hear you if you’re speaking! Maybe it is my connection- Oh my feathers, a telephone is so difficult to work with- So many buttons!

[The sounds of shuffling, squawks and noises of tutting can be heard.]

Oh my goodness! I- Oh no, I’ve dropped the telephone on the ground I- Gracious me, there’s birdseed everywhere! I- I will call you back, whoever this is! Oh- My feathers are full at the moment! Don’t worry about me! Have a pleasant day deary-

[A panicked squawk is heard followed by a loud thud. The phone call abruptly ends.]

Frank

[The phone rings once before it’s answered.]

Hello, this is Frank Frankly speaking.

[Silence.]

...Hello? … Are you there?

[Silence.]

...Is this Julie? This had better not be another game you’re playing! …Oh no, is this a prank call? Is this Barnaby!? Well, I have a prank for you too, you jokester! A lesson!

[Frank clears his throat.]

Did you know butterflies have their own way of sleeping? It’s not so much sleeping as it is having a rest ! It is always done with their eyes open, too! They also like to rest under leaves as a means of protection from dew or rain drops! Better yet, to hide from larger creatures with an appetite! A bit like you and those horrible hot dogs you love so much.

[Silence. Frank huffs loudly in annoyance.]

Well, whoever this is, I’ll have you know I have better things to do than wait for you to respond! Good bye!

Sally

[The phone barely has a chance to ring once before it is picked up.]

Hellooo! You’re talking to the brightest and most stupendous superstar this side of the neighborhood! Sally Starlet!

[A triumphant 'ta-da!' jingle, followed by silence. Sally whispers her next sentence.]

…I said ‘Hellooo!’ That’s your cue!

[Silence.]

…What’s wrong, do you have stage fright? I know, I know, having a star for a neighbor can be so intimidating! She’s so terrific, you’re probably thinking! Phenomenal, staggering, breathtaking- I’m taking the words right out of your mouth, I bet!

[Silence. Sally sighs softly.]

Well, parting is such sweet sorrows, but I must shine my brilliance elsewhere! Why don’t you call me back when you don’t have such cold feet, hm? Farewell!

Julie

[The phone rings once, but in the middle of its second ring the phone is answered.]

Hello? [LOUDER] Hello!!

[Silence.]

...Hey, are you playing some kind of game? Well- I want to play too! Okay, let’s go on the count of three! One… Two… Three!

[Silence.]

…I don’t know how to play this game. ...Oh, I know what to do! We’ll make a new game! [Frantically spoken] We’ll need a jump rope, some chalk, a dice, a sandwich- I’ll call it… quiet sandwich jump rope! I better get everything ready, Frank’s going to love this game! Okay, bye bye!

Wally

[A long period of silence follows before three rings are heard. A pause follows even as the phone is answered before the sound of a heart beat can be heard below the ambient noise. This audio track constantly raises and lowers as it proceeds.]

Hello? Hello? Helloooo? … Ha Ha Ha...I’m only kidding. I know you’re there.

Did you like my joke? ...I think you were going to say... Yes! …Ha Ha Ha… You know… It is hard to hear you think through this funny phone of mine. It is as though you aren’t speaking at all. Maybe it is just a little fuzzy… Like me. Speaking of…

[The heart beat and ambience stop abruptly.]

...Do you know who I am?

[The heart beat and ambience resume.]

[Gasp.] Oh no. Well that’s not neighborly at all. We’ve never met before. But don’t worry. Even though you and I haven’t spoken before, I’ve seen you... Every time you have looked into my eyes. I want to know… What did you see?

[Silence.]

I hope you saw a friend, but I’m not sure you saw a name... Stand still. Let’s start over. Ring ring ring. Click. Hi, I’m Wally. I’m so happy to finally meet you, I think you’re the absolute most.

[Silence.]

Uh oh, I have to go now. Everyone is probably thinking about that strange phone call. It is funny to think about. …Ha ha ha… Don’t worry though, neighbor, it will be a little joke between you and me. You have to go too. You have work to do. Remember, until you hear me again, keep your smile merry and always know that I love you very much.

Good bye.

[wol-fica]

-𝐖𝐨𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐌𝐞?- 𝐏𝐓𝟑

parings - wenclair x daughter!reader

summary - you were born into a family of freaks, and that was the norm for you. but slowly, your interest in your family diminished due to lack of attention towards you. how will you cope?

warnings - family draamamammamaa

an - wanted to give some sappy R moments with her mothers ( won’t last long tho )

——————

“Keep a smile on your face Luka, you look stupid when you’re sad.” You murmured to your brother, eyes on your principal as she recited the rules for parents weekend.

It was a dreadful day, grey clouds rolling overhead while a chilly wind blew threw the quad. Students were strewn across the area, some sitting on the picnic tables while others stood shivering in the cool air. 

Principal Weems was giving announcements for todays later arrivals; the parents. Soon, the school will be overrun with families from all across the state who have come to see their children’s accidemic successes.

Among that group will be your family, consisting of your parents, brothers, grandparents and uncle. Your mom had insisted on them coming to visit you and Luka, so now the two of you had to worry about impressing all seven of them instead of just four.

“I’m not sad.” Luka whined, pouting slightly, “I’m freezing.”

“Suck it up, weather should not the thing to defeat you today.” You said, wincing when the wind stung your skin, “We still have to deal with them.”

“I’m excited to see everyone, it’s been awhile since Uncle Pugsley has visited.” Luka replied, “Are you ready for Louis and Leo’s chaos?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes at the thought of your younger brothers causing havoc among the school. They will be the death of you, it was just due time until it happened.

“They will behave, or I will throw them into a pit full of rusty needles.”

Luka chuckled, rocking on his feet to keep himself warm as Weems finished up her announcements. 

“Your families will start to arrive in about twenty minutes, I suggest you prepare yourselves!” Weems said, dismissing everyone with a wave of her hand.

You cracked your neck, closing your eyes while you rolled out your aching shoulders. The past few nights  you had decided to skip sleeping and study the next chapter of Goody’s book; Spells On The Natural Elements, which provided a plethora of useful information for you to use. 

Her book has been very interesting, full of spells, potions, ways to commit arson, and even illustrations of mythical animals that she apparently had encountered. Drawings of her life in her village and her distaste for a certain “Crackstone” could be found on almost every page, which was so humorous to you. 

“Y/N.” Luka said, bumping his shoulder into yours, “I think they are here.”

Your head turned to the doorway, watching as adults and kids spilled in to greet their nevermore children. Among them, your dark family could be seen entering with grace; excusing your younger brothers sprinting at you and Luka.

“¡Hermana! ¡Hermano!” Leo said, jumping into Luka’s arms for a hug. 

Louis was close behind him, shoving himself against you and pulling you into a bone crushing embrace. Your arms were tight at your sides, rigid whil he hugged you.

“Louis.” You snarled, looking down to give him a deadly glare, “Let go.”

He complied, grinning and turning to greet Luka. Leo stepped up to you, but thankfully he had enough of a brain to only hold out his hand for a fist bump. You reluctantly complied, cringing all while you did.

“Nice to see you big sis.” He said cheerfully, giving you a smile, “How’s school going?”

“Utterly horrible.” You replied, a small frown forming on your face, “The people here are disgusting.”

“Sounds awesome.”

You nodded, your focus now on your remaining family members that were making their way towards you. Your uncle looked nervous but happy, waving to people as he passed by. Your grandparents, cheery as ever, had glowing smiles that reached just to their eyes, age barely showing on their clear skin.

And then their was your parents. 

Your mom was first, decked out in her colorful attire of white jeans, a large pink coat with feathery edges, a bright blue top, pink winter boots, and a rainbow beanie that draped over her pink and blue streaked hair. Your mother was right behind her, quite the opposite of her outfit. She was dressed in black combat boots, black cargo jeans, a white and black stripped sweater with a black jacket over it, and a thin black scarf to top it all off.

Revolting.

“There are my two favorite eldest grandchildren!” Your grandfather said, pulling you and Luka into a tight hug, “How have you been?”

“We’re alright, just chugging through the school year.” Luka replied, scratching his neck nervously while you scowled.

“I hope you both are enjoying fencing class.” Your grandmother said, gracefully gliding over with a smile, “Have either of you gotten the title?”

“Y/N has!” Luka said happily, but shrank down when you glared at him warningly, “But she doesn’t care for it.”

“Just as an Addams should, you take after your mother so well.” Your grandmother said, clasping her hands together in praise.

You sighed, internally cursing yourself for getting that title. Fencing was never a huge interest for you, but after Weems practically demanded that you take the class, you decided to give it you all rather than be just mediocre. Hence how you got the spot as the teams captain.

“There’s my girl.” A voice sounded, causing your eyes to widen and turn around a little to fast.

Your mom was there, a smile on her face as she held her arms open to you. She was one of the very rare few who you tolerated hugging, something about her embrace was so warm and comforting to you.

“Lobo Madré.” You stated before walking into her arms, your face tucking itself into her neck for comfort.

“What’s going on sweetheart?” Enid questioned with concern, rubbing your back with her hands, “You doing okay?”

You nodded, holding on tightly to her body. She smelled of some sort of fruity perfume, the thick scent invading your senses. Her hugs felt like home, which is where you so badly wanted to be at the moment. 

Soft hands came up to your shoulders, pulling you back from her so she could inspect your face. The back of her hand went to your forehead to check your temperature, a frown gracing her lips at the feeling.

“You’re a bit hot. Are you feeling okay?” She questioned, brushing a lock of ebony hair out of your face.

You shrugged, now recognizing the aching headache that sat in the front of your skull. Your eyes closed at the throbbing pain, subconsciously leaning yourself back into your mom’s arms.

“My head hurts.” You mumbled, practically going limp in her warm embrace.

“I think it’s a fever.” She spoke softly, almost as if not directed to you, “Willa, I’m gonna take her to her room.”

“Do you want me to come with you? Is it that bad?” Your mother asked, turning to face your mom.

“Is it okay for her to come?” Enid asked you, squeezing you to get your attention.

You nodded, too sleepy to argue or consider the consequences of your parents potentially finding Goody’s book. Your brain felt foggy and dull, and thoughts were not processing correctly through your head, which meant the percentage of you saying or doing something to reveal your little secret was a solid 75%.

“Okay.” She replied, then turned to address the rest of the family, “We’re gonna take Y/N to her room!”

Everyone nodded, turning back to Luka to talk about school. Your mom clasped her hand in yours and led you along, her arm around your back to keep you steady. The walk was painfully long and uncomfortably quiet, the silence causing anxiety to rise in the back of your throat with each step you took.

Soon, you arrived at the burgundy-scorched door, its brass handles welcoming you into its space. The large, half-rainbow window sent rays of colorful sunlight onto the oak floors, cascading your face in light as you entered your dorm room.

“You kept the window the same?” Your mom questioned, a small smile on her lips, “I thought you would rip it off.”

“Never had the time.” You mumbled, heading to your bed to sit down. 

You sat near your pillow, using your body as a wall between the book and your concerned parents. Your nerves were aflame at the thought of yourself getting caught, but you couldn’t focus on that right now.

Wednesday was surveying your room, her fingers tracing the old wood as if she were reminiscing her time at Nevermore. The way her black eyes scanned the room made you nervous, like you didn’t meet her standards of living or something.

You heard shuffling behind you, your mom emerging from your bathroom with a cup of water and some ibuprofen. She came around your bed, sitting next to you to hand you the medicine. You slipped the pill into your mouth, taking the glass from your moms hand to help you swallow it.

“That will help you feel better.” Enid said, pulling a piece of hair behind your ear, “You should sleep as well.”

You nodded, setting the now empty glass on your desk before moving to remove your shoes. Your mother came around to you, grabbing the chair from your desk to sit in front of you.

“Have you been sleeping normally? Any random headaches or feral urges?” Your mom asked, her hand rubbing your back in a comforting manner, “Has the moon been exceptionally interesting lately?”

You sighed, shaking your head no. Whenever you got sick or received any migraines, your mom would immediately be concerned if you were potentially wolfing out, but that never was the case.

“Just headaches.” You said, kicking your shoes under the bed, “And some nausea.”

“Dizziness?” Wednesday asked, leaning her hands on her knees whilst watching you, “Light Headed?”

“Yeah…” 

She pursed her lips, giving Enid a look that somewhat resembled an “i think i know what’s going on.”

“Have you had any visions?”

Your head shot up, a look of pure horror on your face. Why would she ask that? Did Luka say something? What do they know?

“No, of course not.” You responded a bit too quickly, your voice shaky and untruthful.

“Y/N…” Your mom said, running her hand up and down your back, “Be honest with us.”

You sucked in a breath, your bottom lip slipping in between your teeth. You had two options; tell them the truth and potentially lose your progress with Goody's book, and also be sent to therapy. Or lie and say you are just feeling sick and a bit feverish because of the drop in temperature.

“I…” You started, your voice faltering under your mothers deadly gaze, “I’ve been seeing some things…”

Wednesday sighed, shaking her head slightly and looking away from you in disappointment. She stood up, walking towards your window to look out of it.

“You should have told me.”

“Why?” You asked, confused at her statement, “What would that do?”

She turned around, disbelief on her facial features as she stared at you. Your mom was silent beside you, her gaze switching between you and Wednesday.

“Because I can advise you, so you don’t end up hurting yourself.” She said, slowly turning back to the window.

“Like you ever cared before.” You muttered, loud enough for her to hear.

She whipped back around, now standing in an offensive stance.

“I do care, you are my child.”

You scoffed, shaking your head and standing up to brush your pants out.

“Doesn’t feel like that.” You said, walking around your bed to put your uniform jacket in the hamper.

“I’m sorry you don’t acknowledge my affection for you.” She stated; a challenge.

“And I’m sorry you can’t even get your compliments across without cringing in disgust.” You growled, throwing your socks into the laundry basket.

“Y/N.” Your mom scolded softly, a warning to back down.

“No, let her be defiant.” Wednesday said, rolling her eyes at you, “She will see where it gets her.”

“Probably in the same spot I’m always in; the corner where no one sees me.” You replied snarkily, shaking your hair out.

“Y/N!” Enid said, now standing up to face you, “Don't speak to your mother like that.”

“What difference does it make? You two don’t give two shits about me anyways.” 

Your mother  gave a low hum, stepping towards you until Enid stopped her by putting her hands on her chest.

“Enid let go, she shouldn’t be allowed to act like this.”

“Yeah, let her go!” You shouted back, a coy smile on your face, “Let her hit her kid and see what it does!”

“Y/N stop.” Your mom said, turning to you with a glare, “We did not raise you to act like this.”

You laughed, shocking the both of them. Your body doubled over with a giggling fit, your eyes wet from tears.

“You barely even raised me at all.” You wheezed, wiping some wetness from your eyes.

“Dammit Enid, let go.” Wednesday snarled, trying to push past her wife, “Her attitude is pissing me off.”

“And honestly!” You continued on, knowing your next point will hit a nerve, “I wish you two were never my parents.”

The silence in the room was deafening, one could hear a pin drop if they stood in the space. Normally, you would find people's utter shock and horror to be amusing, but being that your mom’s mouths were wide open in disbelief, you felt a pang of sadness in the pit of your stomach.

Tears were first, welling up in the rims of Enid’s eyes. They cascaded down her face, dripping off of her chin and onto the floor. Her lip wobbled sadly, and you almost felt bad for her. Wednesday on the other hand, was completely frozen. She looked as blank as an empty canvas, her normally terrifying eyes looking dull and distant.

“You don’t mean that…” Your mom said slowly, her voice shaky from crying, “Tell me you don’t mean that.”

Feeling defiant, you stuck your chest out and tilted your head up slightly, “Every. Word.”

Unsurprisingly, Enid let out a sob, her body collapsing into Wednesday’s arms. The latter held her close, a familiarly disappointed look directed at you.

“Hope you’re happy.” She said to you before taking Enid by the hand and leading her out of the room, leaving you alone.

Typical, You thought.

A voice in the back of your head was screaming at you to run after them and apologize, to take back every word and say it was the fever talking; but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

You were stubborn and single-minded, only looking out for yourself and ignoring anyone’s advances of trying to be close to you. Friends were not an option, and you wouldn’t even care for them anyways…..wait…..that sounded way too familiar.

Maybe you were more like Wednesday than you actually thought.

—————————

taglist: @crystal-lily-101 @tundra1029 @aahdiieb @rainbow-love4ever @imhungry-andtired @theafterofnevermore @k1mba @simp4thena @thenextdawn @alexkolax @annalestern @efectoangel @fall-08 @simp4wom3n @littlegaybutterflysblog @sayaisrotten @deep-fried-egg @notheoneforlove @frasersgf

[the-swageyama-tobiyolo]

¿donde está la biblioteca? || z.cl

six. what the fuck was that (written)

the world officially hated you. 

not only had all your lessons been cancelled after you killed yourself studying for a test that was supposed to take place that day, but your car had broken down the night before on your way to the convenience store leaving you carless and dependent on public transport. or worse, your friends.

a pounding headache had taken over your head the moment you woke up, refusing to leave even after you took a pill. your body and mind exhausted from the countless nights of horrible sleep due to your studying.

when food seemed like your only salvation, you opened your fridge to find it almost empty, only occupied by a single tomato and left over almond milk, lacking the items you were going to the store for in the first place. you gave up and went back to bed, refusing to deal with anything more than the computer that was laid next to you projecting the third season of the 100, your only happiness seemingly coming from the handsome figure of Bellamy Blake.

your mind wandered off so far that you snapped back to reality at the sound of your phone receiving a message, making the corners of your lips lift up slightly at the sight of the contact name on your screen.

after answering, you decided that sleeping for a while before the class was probably the best idea, so you set an alarm and did your best to doze off to sleep.

thankfully, you had awakened before the alarm rang, saving you of the bad mood waking up that way would have caused. your body and head felt a million times better and the sun seemed to shine a tiny bit brighter through your curtains, giving you the motivation you needed to get ready to leave your house.

even when the forecast predicted non-stop rain for the entire afternoon, the sky looked clear enough for you to have faith in getting to your lesson completely dry. chenle was praying for you after all.

a tiny smile was left on your lips as music played in your ears, the walk feeling light due to the cold weather.

however, the world hated you and had to remind you of that.

one minute to the next, the clouds broke down in the hardest rain they had in maybe a whole century, making you let out an exasperated groan and start running towards your university’s library with a good 15 minutes left to run.

★🏀⋆｡ °⋆

chenle was worried. since you had talked earlier that day, he had kept his promise and prayed profusely to the sky that you wouldn't get rained on, but his prayers had been proven to be completely useless when the sky completely fell apart on top of the university gym. he tried his hardest to continue practicing, forcing himself to think that you were fine and a little rain wouldn't hurt you. but his clouded mind was interfering with his game, and he wasn't the only one to notice. 

seunghan walked towards him with a slight frown as they called a three minute water break, questioning him immediately “you okay there, captain?” his voice was laced with humor, but chenle knew his concern was meant.

“all good, just a bit worried about the rain” he answered half honestly, not feeling comfortable enough to voice his concern for you out loud yet. “do you need a ride home? i can wait for your tutoring and take you home" seunghan offered, making the sides of chenle's mouth quirk slightly upwards. this is what he meant when he referred to his team as a family. “nah, all good, it's just that yn had to walk here and i'm pretty sure she’s getting soaked” he brushed it off, although the slight crease of his eyebrows told seunghan that it was genuinely making him upset.

“you should probably go get her then, i can take over the last bit” he offered, patting his shoulder in a friendly manner. chenle thought of it for a second. was he really going to leave practice over the possibility of you maybe getting rained on?

“alright man, thank you, i'll see you later” he patted the boy's shoulder back and walked to get his stuff together, looking at his wrist watch. it was too late to go get you, but maybe he could make your arrival a little better.

★🎧⋆｡ °⋆

to say you were soaked was the understatement of the century. you thanked every single divine being out there for the fact that you had a waterproof backpack that actually worked pretty good, but cursed them because maybe they could have reminded you to take an umbrella. you walked into the library shivering of how cold you felt, muttering a small sorry to the librarian for the dripping of your hair and gaining only a sympathetic smile. you tiredly went towards the table you and chenle usually sat on, expecting to be alone for long enough to get yourself together and prepare for the lesson as you always did, but you were surprised to see the boy already there.

with a towel and a cup of what you were pretty sure was warm tea. he looked up at the sound of your steps, frowning worriedly at your state. he stood up and wrapped the towel around your body wordlessly, rubbing your sides as if he were trying to warm you up. “sorry, i was going to go pick you up in the car but i thought it was probably too late so i went to get you some warm tea instead.” he ranted as he backed away from you, giving you space. “thank you, lele, this is more than perfect” the nickname slipped from your lips and if you hadn’t shied away from looking at him, you could have caught the faint pinkness that covered his cheeks.

“here, wear this” he said as he took his hoodie off of his own body, handing it to you.

“i don't want you to be cold, it's okay” you pushed his hands away, cheeks flaming red at his cute gesture.

“i just ran around for an hour and a half, i think i'm warm enough” he chuckled and gave you a reassuring smile, pushing the hoodie back in your direction. you couldn't do anything but mutter a small thank you and put it on, sitting down to start the lesson and completely missing how chenle stared at you a little too long, his breath caught in his throat. ★🎧⋆｡ °⋆

the two hour session had flown by between laughs and jokes about how absolutely horrendous chenle’s spanish was (gaining a few paper balls to be thrown your way, of course.)

7 pm towered over you as you stuffed all your materials back into your backpack, mentally preparing yourself to walk all the way home again.

chenle looked out the window with a small frown that made you think a soft cute to yourself before turning back to you. “you're going to get poured on again” he commented with a poor attempt of a smile on his face. “no need to rub it in, i'm already dreading it” you groaned as you put your backpack on and started walking with him on your side.

“i can drive you home if you’d like” he shrugged, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could, even when his heart was beating a little too fast for his liking.

“there's no need for that, lele, i promise” you reassured, his heart almost beating out of his chest at the sound of that nickname escaping your lips again

“don't be stubborn, please” he asked and gave you an almost pleading look, and who were you to say no?

the drive was once again filled with laughter, terminating as “tsq” by humbe played in the background. (obviously your song choice as you used the excuse of him “having to listen to spanish music if he actually wanted to learn the language.) you smiled at him softly as he parked in front of your house. “thank you a lot for driving me” 

“no problem” he smiled as he took in the softness of your features, being interrupted as you spoke again 

"oh, sorry, almost forgot” you mumbled before beginning to take off the hoodie he had given you, being stopped by his hand on your arm. “keep it so you’ll have plenty of things to wear when it's raining” you almost missed the light blush on his face as he said that. almost.

“i have hoodies of my own, you know” you scoffed humorously, teasing him a little.

“yet you don't seem to wear them” he retaliated, making you roll your eyes before opening the door.

“adiós, chenle” you smiled and hopped off of the car, going to your building door and waving at him from the entrance, smiling as he waved back before driving away.

what the fuck was that.

previous ★ masterlist ★ next

★ word count ;; 1.5k

★ authors note ;; first written chapter guys, lowkey terrified. anyways, im kinda adoring them too much to make it too slow burn, also bc i want them to pin over each other for a fat sec after. let me know what you think about this chapter and please keep in mind that english is not my first language! also i finally put the playlist on the ml so i recommend listening to it.

★ tag list ;; @yutarot @chenlesfavorite @fullsunbabe @taroddori @morkiee @jovialdelusionbouquet @winwintea

[limbus-limousine]

Keep saying this but I loooove how relationships are talked about and portrayed in Demian (1919). Like. To an insane degree that I can barely put into words. It bothers me how overlooked it is sometimes? People always have a tendency to shove fictional relationships into very cramped, defined little boxes and then fight over the plastic label.

The way relationships are seen in Demian is one of the main reasons why I hold this book so close to my heart, because it was the first time I saw my thoughts put into words that I could analyze and study. That and the whole premise of how growing up in a religiously oppressive environment disguised with love and purity will inevitably affect how you process your feelings toward others... Makes me relate to Sinclair a lot. And it feels like a gross oversimplification to restrict his feelings as platonic or romantic.

I've talked about how I see Demian and Eva as extremely related entities before, how they are essentially the same. But I think their distinction as physical characters is very useful for the storytelling and symbolism. As I see it, Demian (the book) is all about love. It's not just about finding love in someone else but also finding love in yourself, in what you do and where you are in your life. This might be more of a personal interpretation, but to me, Eva represents a very, very specific feeling, in a way it's a culmination, a point where you finally stop to think and say to yourself "maybe I am okay. This is what okay feels like to me". Freudian influence aside... The motherly themes hit me really hard for this very reason:

When I read how Sinclair slowly fell out with his family, it spoke of a very specific experience. A very specific realization. "This deal isn't that of a bad friendship or acquaintance. I won't have a second chance. Simply because of how I was born, where I was born, there are human experiences that I'll never be able to know, and I am powerless to change that", you cannot choose your family, your mother, right? It's what you get, and you see around you what could've been but never was, and it makes you feel weak.

That's why Frau Eva is such an important figure. Because that is when Sinclair finds his family again, in a way. Why should blood matter so much? Sure, there's a biological connection, it's also been studied that romantic relationships reach their "high" during their earlier days due to hormones and neurotransmitters, right, "love at first sight", but those will eventually cease production as all does. It is your choice to nurture that relationship and to cherish it, to keep and to care for it. Blood does not matter, home is a person and it's right next to me, right now. I think that is what Frau Eva is, as a whole. And allowing that feeling to coexist with the platonic and the romantic is very important as I see it. One of the main problems of this motherly dynamic is the power difference, what makes Sinclair struggle in his childhood is the constant sensation of being watched, of being subjected to severe judgement. Frau Eva is supposed to remove that factor, she listens and she welcomes any thought or idea, there isn't fear of rejection or punishment, that's what makes it feel "like home". That was, kind of, the last step to reach the fulfillment Sinclair needed. I see Eva as the "destination" of this whole thing.

And Demian, he is the journey. One of the biggest mistakes one can make is to dismiss the process and work that goes into an achievement, because it is important. There is no Eva without Demian, they are intrinsic by nature. And journey is something that never leaves you. Even when Sinclair reaches his destination, he never stops caring about Demian. He visits Eva and he visits Demian, even if he has to walk through horrible weather, he speaks of his dreams to them, and he sits at the table and eats with them. Because during your journey you gain so many things you never expected, and at the end of the road, they become part of your fulfillment and needs as much as the main achievement is.

What Sinclair obtains from Demian and Eva, and everything in between them, is a unique relationship, deeply fulfilling, trusting, reassuring, a place where you know you can come to, even when you're at your lowest. Eva capitalizes on the genuine care, nurturing qualities, but Demian, too is a mentor, although I find falconer to be a better comparison. He helps the sparrowhawk grow its clipped wings, but in turn, he shall not stop it from flying, only the bird itself can choose to return the falconer's affections. But at the end of the day, all the falconer wishes for is to see him take flight. Sinclair obtains everything: friendship, camaraderie, acceptance, relief of a deep rooted guilt, no judgement for his human desires, the care and trust he lost from his mother, and something to look forward to after waking up in the mornings.

At the end of the book, Sinclair is separated from both of them, as I've said, they are intrinsic. But of course, they don't fully leave. As I see it, the kiss being from Eva means that your achievement is and will always be a sweet thought. Something you hold dear, that you can think of to comfort yourself. But Demian is there to deliver it and to fix Sinclair's wounds because journey is experience. It is what strengthens you and gives you the tools to face future endeavors. And it feels safe... You are finally safe within yourself.

But what about the scary factor, though? Because that is present too in both Demian and Eva (which I happen to really enjoy, as well). As always, I think it's a balance. It's good to know fear, it's a human emotion like any other. But the fear that radiates from them is more... Animal-like. The fear Sinclair once felt was a deep rooted terror that was born from something divine. You're being watched. You're being judged. You're wrong. You're a sinner. That's scary. Because it's telling you that the danger comes from yourself. When you see a beast staring into you, you don't feel self conscious, you don't feel repulsed, you feel the most natural shape that fear has. Beautiful things are scary. A snake can be scary. The stars can be scary. But it's not their fault, and it's not your fault either, it's just how it's meant to be. Because all feelings —love, anger, fear, sadness— and more, they are all important, they are all natural. But natural feelings can be beautiful. Artificial feelings make you fear something you've never witnessed, they make your stomach churn at the thought of yourself and they make you cry for something you haven't done. And most people around you live holding onto relationships that are, fundamentally, held by artificial feelings.

That is... Most of what I interpret from this book. And, god. It feels more like the book read me and not the other way around. I think I've truly found a bigger respite in art thanks to this novel. I have wanted to see the same beauty in the naturally grotesque... Learn about myself until rotting, flesh, maggots become just as beautiful and full of meaning as spring rivers and flowering plains, and for anger and fear to turn into something I can love and cherish like I do my inner child. Although they, too, have surely grown up.

That's it. I wanna play toysssss

[itsohh]

Death Goes to Disco Part 4

A/N: Female reader, righhhttt so NEXT chapter should be the last chapter. For real this time you guys.

Summary: In the middle of winter, the three of you debark into the never-ending darkness of Greenland's winter. Not used to the cold, you struggle to adapt to the cold but Ghost and Soap are there to help.

Word count:  3038

Warnings: not smut but not exactly sfw either

AO3 Masterlist Part 1 Part 3

Cold. So. Freezing. Cold.

In the seemingly permanent darkness, you trekked through the snow. The jacket that covered every inch of your skin really did try. It kept you going, get you mobile, kept you combat-ready. Yet, you knew later at night when you had to stop moving its wetness would become a detriment.

In-between the two men you followed Ghost while Soap walked behind you. All three of you had night vision goggles on to cope. "You alright there Disco?" You heard Soap ask when you clutched your jacket a bit tighter.

"It's fucking cold!" Your voice managed to get out despite the fluffy jacket hood that covered most of your face.

"Not used to the cold eh?"

"Not used to extreme weather."

"Prefer being in the desert?"

"Fuck no, at I can warm up. Only so many clothes you can take off."

"In extreme heat, it's wiser to wear many layers. Polyester is not recommended." Ghost spoke in front of you.

"Fuck are you serious?" You hissed and Ghost looked back at you for a moment with his brow raised. "My uniform back when I was in Afghanistan was made of teredo. In the middle of the goddamn summer."

"What's teredo?" Soap asked.

"Polyester cotton hybrid." You answered with a huff and Soap let out a laugh before your head snapped back at him.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I- that's horrible really. They didn't have anything else?"

"Not really, my uniform fit shit anyway." You looked forward and soon caught up to Ghost who looked down his scope. Johnny joined the pair of you and you copied Ghost's action.

At the end of your scope, you could see what he was looking at. A small cabin, more of a shack than anything. Hidden away in the side of a mountain. If you didn't know to look there, it was extremely easy to miss.

"See that?" Ghost asked.

"Sure do."

"Affirmative."

"That's our destination. Our base of operations."

"Think they have a fireplace in there?" Soap asked.

"No fire."

"Negative."

Both you and Ghost spoke at the same time much to each other's surprise.

"Even if it has a fireplace we should avoid using it. The smoke would give away our location." You swallowed and explained. Ghost gave you a nod at your explanation and you couldn't help but feel pride sweet inside your chest. Like you were a fresh rookie again.

"How long are we staying here LT?" Soap asked.

"Estimated two weeks." Ghost looked towards him.

"Two weeks?" Soap was surprised and he glanced at you for a moment.

"Will we have the supplies for that? I'm not a fan of reindeer." You muttered the last part under your breath.

"Should be, let's get out there and find out."

Despite the close proximity of the building, it took the three of you about half an hour to finally reach it. Ghost took point and was the first to enter, Soap right on his tail. Soon came the call for all clear. Safe as safe could be.

"Hey, Ghost?" You asked as you shrugged off your back onto the sofa. His head turned to face you as he removed his own bag. "You said in the briefing we were here on the odd case that Willem took this path through Greenland. What if he doesn't?"

"Then that's up to the Denmark government."

"No I mean, what do we do?"

"Wait until the call."

"Huh really shelled us out for something so boring?" Soap popped up next to you.

"They need Willem caught, numbers on this path aren't an option. They needed to make sure that if he came this way it was someone that could deal with it."

"Why two weeks?"

"His mobility is slow. Careful but slow."

"You would think that they would work fast with the darkness and all that." Soap took his backpack off and played it on the table to unpack.

"Willem and his men aren't familiar with the land. It was a risk to flee here. We are here to make sure it doesn't pay off."

"Sure thing. Supply check?" Your eyes went past him to the cupboards in the kitchen.

"Inventory, count it." He nodded and you got to work.

In about half an hour the three of you grouped up again. With a list in one hand, you sat down on the couch and Soap joined you. Ghost eventually turned up with a stack of blankets in his hands.

"Ooo that's what I like to see." Your hand went to snatch the top one and you heard Soap laugh next to you under his breath. The room was cold, not as cold as it was outside but still really cold. With your jacket now off to dry, you would take anything you could get.  This meant while you weren't in active danger, you were keeping that blanket like it was a lifeline.

"Report?" At Ghost's voice had you looked up at him and nodded.

"Not including our own supplies we brought, this place could realistically easily supply us for about a year in canned foods. Whoever normally looks after this place does it well. Water is something we will need to get ourselves but with the snow and ice outside I think we should be fine. There's a gas oven in the kitchen hooked up to some propane bottles under the cabinet. Counted four of them."

"Right. I counted our supplies. Among us, we have about 800 rounds, 12 'nades, 3 flashes and 6 smoke."

"Add another 40 rounds. There's an unmodified Marksman which was on the wall of the master. There are four bedrooms with outside windows. Jumping from them is not advisable. There is an attic with an escape hatch. Found out there's also another ladder under that rug over there which leads downward. It's a one-way trip. So only use it in the case of emergency. About our warmth situation, the fireplace is buggered. Couldn't use it if we wanted to."

"Any other type of heating aside from these?" You asked Ghost and he slightly shook his head.

"The building is well initialized, in the bedrooms I've reinforced the windows with blankets and tape. The longer we stay here the warmer it should get."

"Great." You mumbled and pulled the blanket closer around you. Perhaps they would warm up quickly, you certainly weren't.

"We got power here?"

"Negative on that Soap. This place seems to be designed for the summer. While it has the capability to get power from the solar panels we don't have the sun on our side. Everything's dead."

"Our batteries on all our equipment should easily last two weeks right?" You asked and Ghost gave you a single nod.

"Inventory done, now, after we eat we will be doing shifts. Four-hour blocks. Two sleep, one awake."

"I call the first shift." You said.

"Soap you take second, I'll take last."

"Rodger that. So." Soap turned to face you. "Whats allocated for tonight's dinner?"

You pushed off the couch and headed to the kitchen and pulled out some cans and placed them on the island. "Beef." You smiled at him and gestured to the next can. "Beans."

"Have we got seasoning here?" Soap gave you a slightly hopeful smile that was in vain. It was lucky the group of you had food at all and didn't have to rely on MRIs or the local fauna.

"No." You gave him your own bitter smile.

"Just like when it's Ghost's turn to cook then." John made sure to look directly at you and avoid Ghost whose head slowly turned to look at the man. A death glare in his eyes.

"Do you have a problem with my cooking Sergeant?"

"Maybe use a little bit of oregano in the future? Just a thought. Perhaps a bit of chives on spuds. Now that I think of it, maybe some paprika on the chicken. At least it's not dry." Soap kept his eyes on you and you couldn't help but chuckle slightly with your brows raised as he dug himself into a hole.

"I will take your advice into consideration." Ghost's shoulders dropped and he turned back to face you.

"Since Johnny has demonstrated his culinary expertise. He can cook for us today." Soap opened his mouth and shut it. You pushed the cans towards him and grabbed a couple more.

"Thanks Soap."

-

First shift wasn't easy. With the eternal darkness of the night, it made it impossible to know what time it was without looking at your watch. Ghost had instructed you that you didn't need to specifically look out a scope just keep an eye out for anything.

Which led to boredom.

It was three and a half hours in that you felt another presence. Your eyes flicked up from the game of solitaire that you had set out in front of you to see Ghost there. His eyes went to yours. Even though you could barely see him with the small lantern next to you, you were able to see that his greasepaint was removed from around his eyes and he was left just in his mask.

His eyes were on your hand that rest on the pistol next to you. "Can't sleep?" Your voice was soft slowly he came up to you.

"Checking on you."

"Me? Worried I'm going to murder you in your sleep or something?" You laughed and he sat down on the ground in front of you.

"No. If you were going to kill me it would have been back in Las Almas." Your laugh died down and your eyes fell a bit at his mention of the past.

"Well, I'm still kicking if that's what your wondering. A bit cold but I'll deal. You should go back to sleep. I have to wake Soap in a bit anyway. Unless you swapped shifts with him?"

"No." His eyes looked down at your game of cards which was set up.

"I keep losing, I suck at solitaire."

"Surprising, heard from Soap you would have fleeced him dry if you were playing with real money."

"Oh, I'm great at poker and other games you play with other people. Solo games, ugh." You looked down to see you had fucked it up and let out a huff. “Half of the game isn’t about the cards but the way you portray yourself.” You shuffled the cards and paused. “Want some water? Still have some melted from dinner.”

“I’m good.”

“Suit yourself, Lieutenant. Did you wish to play a game then? Since you don’t seem like your heading back to bed yet.”

“You play a lot of cards, why?”

“Something to pass the time.” You glanced down and swallowed. “I used to be really bad at it. When I joined NZSAS I became rather close with a Sergent. Hina was her name. I always ended up assigned under her even when she became a Lieutenant. She always used to stress the importance of staying sane in the military. Downtime was the big part. She always believed that we needed to keep our minds as clear as possible. Preventing paranoia was a big one. So she would always have a pack of cards on her.”

Ghost seemed content to listen so you started to start another game in front of you. “Of course, I was terrible so she made it her personal mission to coach me on the matter. Wasn’t the only thing she coached me on.”

“Hand-to-hand?”

“She taught me how to be a marksman. No, that came from our Captain. Captain Hommeys. Hommeys was an interesting woman,  sort of a good cop bad cop thing with Hina. Our Captain was a scary ass woman. Far scarier than you.” You glanced up and gave him a wink. “Which could be a problem with recruits and rookies. People would be too afraid to bring up matters so, we would get people to go to Hina. They were a great team.”

“Were?”

“Hina died a few years back and Hommeys lost a leg. Still tough as nails.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Part of this life isn’t it? Makes every day that much more important ‘cause you never know when it's gonna be your last. One second’s all it takes. One day all you’re going to be left with are memories of your loved ones so it's best to make those memories good right?” You gave him a gentle smile. You looked down at the cards.” From what I heard Hommeys still works on base. Works as an adviser but I didn’t see her when I was there.” You paused when your watch let out a small beep.

“Mmm four hours already? I still feel so awake, maybe I should let John rest more.”

“No. It’s important you get rest.” Ghost narrowed his eyes at you and you put the cards back together.

“Should take your own advice. You need sleep too Ghost.”

“I will.” Ghost followed your lead when you got up and stretched. With Ghost behind you, you found your way to the master bedroom where John was fast asleep. He had stretched across the large bed. His hand lay on the missing area where Ghost had been. You wondered if they would still share a bed when others were around or if it was because it was only the three of you.

Gently you shook John's shoulder and he blinked his eyes open with a groan. “Disco? Mmm, swap time already?” You nodded at his question. “Fuck, your fingers are cold. Like ice.” He shivered away from you and started to get up. Your eyes fell on Ghost who seemed rather interested in what Soap had said.

“You're still cold.”

“It’s like -6, yeah I’m cold.” You smiled at him and started to walk away from the bed. When you passed Ghost he caught your wrist and you practically jumped at the action. His hand was warm, really warm. How he managed to stay this warm surprised you and subtly you leaned into his touch.

“Get in.”

“Pardon?” Your eyes went wide and darted from his to Johnnys.

“You need to stay warm. Our bed's still warm and you will heat up far faster with the pair of us here. Get in.” He explained and you could see John’s lips curl up and snicker. You passed John the lantern and cautiously got onto the bed.

“Have fun you two.” You could feel your cheeks heat up at John's comment. Ghost was right though, the spot was really warm from John. The light disappeared from view and the door clicked closed behind him. You pulled the blanket close and let out a breath. Then you felt him. Ghost move closer towards you and wrapped an arm around your midsection while his now face pressed against your neck. “Ohh.” You let out a sigh of relief and pressed back against him. “Your so warm.” You hummed.

“Should have said something.”

“I did say I was a little cold.” You muttered and he pulled you closer.

“This is not a little cold. This is concerningly cold. I’ll have to remember you downplay things. It's my job to look after you.”

“You sound like my old doctor.” You whined and he made a sound of disproval.

“Not something I want to hear Disco.”

“No scolding me right now Ghost. Not when I’m about to sleep.” Ghost made a sound against you, a sound that rumbled against his chest and through you. He didn't continue on the matter and soon you closed your eyes.

-

The sleep you got that night was probably one of the best sleeps you had in a very long time. When you awoke you weren’t surprised by the weight that pressed against you. What you were surprised by was who it was. John had swapped with Ghost during the night and now had an arm locked around you. You start to move a little only for his grip to tighten and pull you flush against him.

A firm ‘object’ pressed into your ass.

…

…

His cock. John's cock pressed firmly against your ass and he let out a little unintelligible mumble. You moved a little and he let out a deep hiss against your shoulder. “If you keep moving your only gonna make it harder.” He groaned- more like moaned- in your ear. “Unless that's what you want?” He practically purred.

“John- you're in a relationship. That was a one-time thing.” You swallowed and stayed perfectly still.

“You didn’t have fun?” He pushed his chest further against your back.

“I did, I just- there's a difference between a one-night stand and- ” You let out a sigh of frustration. “I’m not going to be the third wheel to your relationship, some toy.” Your voice went quiet at the end of your sentence. Almost impossible to hear. If he hadn’t been right next to you, there would have been a very high chance that he didn’t hear it all. A pregnant pause surrounded the pair of you for what seemed like a lifetime. In reality, it was maybe a minute or less.

“Then don’t be. You can make this whatever you want it to be.” You felt his thumb gently rub the front of your waist.

“What?”

“If you want us, you can have us. Anyway you want. Ghost and I talked about it last night. If you don’t want anything that's fine too. Won’t change anything professionally between the three of us. Can pretend it never happened if you want.” Soap breathed under your ear and you felt his nose brush against your neck. “Won’t lie though, I’d like it if you joined us. Ghost feels the same.”

“What, like a throuple?”

“That's what they call it eh? Despise that word, but yeah.”

“And your not just saying this because your dicks pressed into my ass?” You felt Soap laugh against you.

“Trust me if that was my motivation I’d go find Ghost like I do most mornings.” Soap let out a breath and continued. “If you want to think about it we can give you time or-”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll date you and Ghost.”

[mikhailwrites]

The road / Ghost x Soap

Kinktober #8 - Napping together (from the SFW prompt list)

Return to the base is by far Soap’s least favourite part of any deployment. The deal is done; there’s no more danger, there’s no objective—only the countless hours spent on the road or in the air.

Thankfully, Ghost knows him well enough by now and provides some comfort.

Return to the base is by far Soap’s least favourite part of any deployment. The deal is done; there’s no more danger, there’s no objective—only the countless hours spent on the road or in the air. Adrenaline has fizzled out of his system, leaving him tired and way too lucid at the same time. The flights and rides home are when the regrets register. What went wrong, what could he have done better, what are the lessons to learn. Most of the time, it’s completely useless. The reflection and analysis only make sense with a level of distance. So soon after the mission, there’s no way he can see the full picture and disregard irrelevant information. He knows all this, yet is unable to stop his brain.

Soap startles as something big and heavy flops down on the bench next to him. In the low, red-tinged light of the cargo bay, he can’t make out much. Soap relaxes the moment he realises it’s Ghost.

“Ghost?” he addresses his Lieutenant over the comms as the plane engines are too bloody loud.

There’s no answer, but suddenly, there is Ghost’s arm around Soap’s shoulders, pulling him close. Soap goes willingly, leaning against Ghost’s solid frame. Johnny sighs, feeling the tension gradually leave his body.

“Better?” The soothing timbre of Ghost’s voice sounds intimately close in the comms.

“Aye,” Soap admits, leaning on Ghost more. “Could you… keep talking? Please?” That’s a tall order, and they both know it. Between the two of them, there’s only one talker, and it’s not Ghost.

Ghost hums, clearly contemplating the request. “What would you have me say?”

“Anythin’ really,” Soap closes his eyes, too tired to explain his request.

“Alright,” Ghost’s arm tightens around Johnny’s shoulders, providing even more comfort. There was never any need for him to explain, Ghost knows him well enough by now. He thinks for a minute, searching his memory for something that wouldn’t be a horrible choice, like quoting the field manual or telling some horrible jokes. Both of those have a place in their communication, especially their infamous banter, but it doesn’t fit this moment. A possibility presents itself, and Ghost goes with it. It’s unusual, but he has a feeling that Johnny might appreciate it. “On the far side of the river valley the road passed through a stark black burn. Charred and limbless trunks of trees stretching away on every side. Ash moving over the road and the sagging hands of blind wire strung from the blackened lightpoles whining thinly in the wind.”

Soap filters out everything except Ghost’s nearly monotonous voice, which actually suits the picture he’s painting with his words. It feels melancholic. “’S nice… what is it?” Johnny asks, already on the verge of sleep.

“The Road by Cormac McCarthy. You should read it sometime.”

“Mmm… maybe I will… tell me some more.” He probably won’t read it. Soap’s never been one for reading, unable to focus on the pages for more than fifteen minutes before his mind starts to multitask. However, he’s reasonably sure he could listen to Ghost read him a book. Soap tries to imagine them huddled in a bed like that, simply enjoying a cosy evening. The world could go fuck itself for once.

Ghost rakes his memory for the continuation of the story. “Farther along were billboards advertising motels. Everything as it once had been save faded and weathered. At the top of the hill they stood in the cold and the wind, getting their breath. He looked at the boy. I'm all right, the boy said…,” Ghost trails off as he realises Soap has fallen asleep. Ghost’s gentle chuckle is hidden under the harsh skull mask.

Simon has always considered himself a man of violence—someone who can only take and never give back. Soap has changed that. Not the reality, merely Simon’s perception of self. He’s gentle with Johnny, and, as much as he struggles to understand it, he seems to be able to bring the man peace. It’s a new, uncharted territory, one he’s keen on exploring more.

Carefully, Simon makes himself a little bit more comfortable, resting his chin on Johnny’s mohawk as he, too, closes his eyes and lets his mind drift off.

[ashdreams2023]

hey, I think I've read everything you've written, and every time I'm left speechless, especially the last one you did about tom big brother and the little sister who suffers from sh, this has entered my heart. I'm here to ask you if you could do another one on the same topic and in the same way. If you don't feel like doing it, that's fine anyway. thanks in any case. a hug❤️

Sure sweetie

Summary: your brother Tom senses that something had gone horribly wrong in your life

Tw: self harm

You should’ve expected this, you’ve missed dinner three times this month, you usually go to spend a day or two in his apartment when you’re in London but no your dumb self was avoiding your brother like the plague.

Now he’s standing outside your dear frowning and old a bag of groceries in his hand.

"I know I’m not the best cook but this is offensive at this rate" he said sarcastically.

You swallowed and took the bag from his hand "You shouldn’t have came all this way…"

Tom sighs and walks into your hotel room anyways, he looks around for a minute before taking a seat next to the window, the room itself wasn’t that big, you couldn’t afford anything fancy, London was too expensive for you.

"Why haven’t I seen you at all? I called and you didn’t answer, I text and you reply with ok or sure then never show up or make some excuses, is there something going on with you? I’m your brother you know"

You just shrugged, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, you’ve been crying all day and your throat felt dry, it was a pleasing that he had came after you cleaned up and washed your hair.

Tom didn’t seem so fond of your silence and stood up, he put his hands on your shoulders and made you look at him.

"Tell me what’s wrong….please, I don’t know what’s going on with you and it’s making me worried"

"It’s nothing Tom, I’m just under the weather"

"I don’t lie when you lie to me…you can trust me you know, I’m also your best friend not just your brother"

There was silence before your tears fell down, you hid your face behind your hands and sobbed.

Tom’s stood up and walked up to you then hugged you tight "please, just tell me what’s wrong….I beg you"

You sniffed and shook your head, you were scared of telling him, you didn’t know what his reaction would be and it scared you.

"Whatever it is I will not judge you, I promise"

"Tom it’s awful…you can’t even imagine it’s just-"

"Show me and I’ll decide if it is awful or not"

You pulled away from and tried wiping your tears with the sleeves of you top but the tears wouldn’t stop so you just gave up and rolled up your sleeves to reveal the damage you’ve made.

He gasps and looks in terror at the long scars across your skin "….oh my…my…" he was lost at words, speechless and defeated looking.

He made you want to cry even more "I told you it was bad…Tom you should leaves-"

"Does anyone knows?" He asked breathlessly.

"…no"

He takes a deep breath and reaches his hands towards you, he touches the broken skin and runs his finger over the scars "are you planning to get help?"

"No will want to deal with this…Tom it’s only me who’s-"

"I will…have you faith in your own family?" You shook your head and smiled sadly.

"It’s not that Tom but you know how people are…"

"Well I’m not people I’m your brother and you should know better than to…hide such a thing, I was worried sick about you"

"I’m sorry…"

Tom sighs and pulled you into another hug, he puts his hand on top of your head and ruffles your hair "Just shut up and remember people care about you, I care about you, ok?"

"…ok."

[arttrampbelle]

Shang tsung comfort/hurt comfort hcs

Some self indulgent hcs for shang tsung.

Cuz I've been kinda feeling meh lately. Nothing really bad,just meh. More drained and tired than anything. This hot/cold weather does not help. At all.

Cw: maybe some angst and hurt comfort. Mentions of depression(on shang's side)

💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚

• Shang is no stranger to bad headspaces or the pressures of stress. I mean have you seen this man? He had to work under shao kahn for elder gods sake!

• If your bad feels is because of your own brain. He will give advice. The best methods of meditation. Or even brew some relaxing tea. But if that's not enough he will give you physical comfort. If that's what you need. The sorcerer is actually very sweet to his beloved. But only his beloved. He is not a stranger like i said to bad headspaces. He too suffers from these inner demons. I hc shang suffers from depression,anxiety,paranoia,he has a horrible fear of decay(the process of aging and the side effects of such than the actual dying of old age. Like the loss of memory,the body pain,slowing down,etc) and many other neurosis. But he reassures you these things you can overcome. But also if not fake it till you make it. That's how he's survived. But know he is here for you if you should ever need to talk. He loves his s/o

• If someone else said something to upset you. Then he will deal with it right away. No need to worry yourself on those below such of your time. He will make sure you are emotionally taken care of then deal with the problem person immediately. Less to say that person in question won't make you cry again on his watch.

• If you are upset because of him? He might be hurt but he will try to talk with you about it. Address the issue. He prefers maturity and to be open when in a relationship. Despite being the snek he is. He doesn't play with the matters of the heart,especially yours. Because if you're with him,and you're gonna be his s/o. You're gonna have to be honest with him.

• If you're feeling insecure about yourself,either with your body or capabilities. He will absolutely gas you up. Maybe be slightly mad at you for feeling such feels. As he sees you as absolutely amazing. How dare you say he has bad taste! (Jk jk) but really he's the type to put you in front of a mirror and dress you in fine silk,stroke and carass your body. And describe how beautiful you look in detail. And tell you how far you've come,as a fighter and as a person. You're the light of his life,his heart and soul. He wants you to be happy,he hates seeing you down

• Overall shang tsung is a good lover,s/o,husband,etc. He might be a sneky bastard of a sorcerer. But he will always be soft for you. (Because fuck what people think. I say he is. So he is)

[nichirinpen]

Flame in his Heart

Rengoku x Reader

Part 3 (Part 2 here  AO3)

Synopsis- An arranged marriage, a horrible father-in-law and a husband who seemed content ignoring you. Can you weather the larger storm brewing? Will Kyojuro ever open up to you?

Content Warnings: AFAB reader descriptions, slow burn, mentions of alcoholism (not the reader), strangers to friends to lovers,  dark themes, mention of suicidal thoughts

~Minors DNI~

One week. 

In just one week, it would be your 1 year anniversary of being married. The thought sickened you. Not because of your husband, Kyojuro no longer caused you stress. Just a month ago yes, that might’ve been the case. But no, the sick feeling that twisted through your chest was because of your father-in-law. Shinjuro had insisted on a celebration, the man leaving no room for argument. And so, an event was being planned and you knew with it he was planning something to humiliate you. The pending date hung over you, like a cloud of mold. Your mind was constantly plagued by thoughts of what Shinjuro might do. No physical harm would befall you of course. But there were so many ways he could publicly humiliate you, too many to count. The drunk hadn’t let anything slip. No, in fact he hadn’t spoken to you nor visited since Kyojuro had punched him. All communication had been through various butlers, the staff scurrying from one manor to the other. It was the most annoying game of whisper down the alley.

Normally you would have been thrilled with the lack of communication. But this scared you. Your father in-law was up to something and you had no idea what. You almost wished to face the drunken yelling, that at least was predictable. This event however was sneaky, a snake lying in waiting.

Shinjuro had sent, of course, an event planner to the estate. You had been shocked when your newest butler had advised you of her arrival. The party was still a week away and yet, the entire house needed to be ready immediately. The thin woman had been flitting about for hours, humming over this and that. 

You had been trailing behind her, room to room, listening tiredly as she huffed over decorations, space, etc. She barked orders at both you and your staff in a terse tone. You hated it. Her sharp words grated against your eardrums, the stiff down turn of her lips infuriating. This would be the first event held at your home, the staff you had just been growing accustomed to had been fired, again. None of the faces around you were familiar. According to Shinjuro the estate needed “Properly Trained” staffing for the event.

You knew it meant he wanted people he knew without a shadow of a doubt would report back to him on the goings on in his son’s estate. No matter where you were in the house, even your bedroom, a member of staff was always nearby, watching. They lurked like shadows, scurrying away when you caught a glimpse of them. You began to detest them, each new face another threat to your peace and quiet.

But there wasn’t anything for them to report. At least not currently.

Your husband had been sent on an overseas business trip the day after the fiasco that had occurred. It was a punishment, the both of you knew it. Kyojuro assured you that you would be fine, that should anything occur, Genya could be relied upon. 

He had left the next morning without even a glance at you, per usual. It made your heart ache for once, fear of being alone and dealing with incoming retribution making your stomach drop. And now despite the nice bath, the words shared that night, you were a sea apart. There was no growing closer, no strategizing about how to deal with his father. Kyojuro had advised not to send texts or emails that were out of the norm, advising that his father could and would read everything. It sickened you to be watched so closely.

“Mrs. Rengoku, if I may, I think the pale green curtains you have and magenta streamers may clash.” 

You stared at the event planner from your seat in the library. She stood rigidly, graying hair swept into a tight bun, her blue clipboard clenched tightly against her chest. You wondered how she had known to find you here, but figured it was the staff. After being shushed rather rudely, you had decided to depart and let the bird-like woman push the staff around. She hadn’t noticed or hadn't cared, allowing you to slip away to gain some space from the bustle of activity. The house was teeming with staff and the event set up. All of it out of your control, you were merely a fancy decoration along with the rest of the house. 

“Well.” You paused, closing your book as you scrambled to recall her name, “Ms. Gloria, I don’t recall choosing a color theme.”

You waited, knowing full well that you hadn’t. The color palette of the home, grays and pale greens, was not of your choosing. The similar colors of your wardrobe, also not of your choosing. Picking how things went was not a privilege you had in this life. That was for Shinjuro to decide. 

The pause was long and you could see the other woman’s face twisting in distaste. She did not like your comment, it seemed. What had Shinjuro told her about you?

“Well I'm just going off the palette chosen by Mr. Rengoku.” Her tone was clipped, eyes narrowed as she looked at you. The Mr. Rengoku in question was not your husband, you knew this. It never was when you spoke to staff, event planners, colleagues of your husband. You bit your bottom lip as you thought. Now that you truly thought about it, nearly everyone referred to your husband as “Mr. Kyojuro”. As if he was still a child under his father’s thumb. 

Ms. Gloria looked at her clipboard, her thin lips pulled in a straight line as she looked at whatever was written. You stood, shelving your book and brushing off your dress, smoothing the silky saffron fabric. The dress fit you perfectly, the action was merely a way to gather your thoughts as you pondered your next step. Clapping your hands together, you look at the other woman, a polite smile on your face. 

“Why don’t we change the colors then? I’ll ask the staff to change the house up a bit.” You wiggled your fingers at her clipboard, “I’m thinking red so why don’t we do yellow streamers.” 

Ms. Gloria opened her mouth, no doubt to protest. You flapped a hand at her, cutting her off with what you hoped was a convincing smile. Playing the dumb ditz was becoming easier, your rudeness being overlooked as stupidity. “Mr. Rengoku won’t mind.” 

He would mind intensely. The fall out from this would hopefully be wrapped up nicely in the anniversary gathering. As long as he didn’t visit before the celebration. You weren’t sure what would happen if you were alone with him. The thought was terrifying. 

You realized you were clenching your fists and forced yourself to relax. The small dents your nails left in your palm ached slightly, a reminder to stay calm, stay perfect. Ms. Gloria nodded at you stiffly and left the library. You followed her out, motioning to one of the maids who was lurking by the door. The girl looked nervous, no doubt thinking she was going to get in trouble for eavesdropping. She wouldn’t, of course, you had no say in the constant monitoring. 

“Do we have red linens?” Your question seemed to confuse her. She blinked, looked around as if waiting for direction, then back at you. Her uniform was ill-fitting, too large and you suppressed a sigh. Shinjuro made all these staff changes but never bothered to ensure the staff were properly clothed. You didn’t think you had even been told her name, hell any of their names.

“Red linens ma’am?” 

You nodded, “The curtains, table cloths, hand towels, bedding. I would like them all switched out for the event.” 

The house was mostly painted in whites and grays, it was void of color except for the light green linens. Red was a color that you saw rarely, mostly just in your husband’s hair. Even your wardrobe seemed devoid of it, as if Shinjuro was disgusted by the color, instead insisting everything be blue and green to snuff out the bright color. 

The maid  blinked owlishly up at you, her confusion seeming to grow. You waited, trying to keep your face pleasant. Snapping would get you nowhere, they were used to that with Shinjuro. Kindness was your key to making any sort of changes to the estate. 

Finally the girl nodded and scurried off. You took the nod as confirmation that it would get done. Sighing, your shoulders slumped. You had made a decision, a massive one all things considered. If you were lucky it wouldn’t be detected until the event. But you knew that was a fool’s hope. With the constant monitoring someone would tell Shinjuro within a matter of days.

With a slightly shaking hand you patted your hair, it was perfect, as always. You were perfect as always. A clatter came from down the hall and you could hear the event planner squawking at someone. Turning, you made your way to the front door. 

You didn’t want to be near Ms. Gloria, nor the staff. They buzzed about like bees, frantic in their need to make everything perfect. The nervous energy in the house was suffocating, it filled your throat and mouth with a bad taste.

Turning the handle of the front door, you tugged it open, welcoming the bright daylight. And promptly froze at the sight before you. It was Kyojuro. You blinked stupidly at the man, then frowned. No he was too short. You glanced behind you, then back, unsure of how to proceed. Before you was a young man who looked strikingly like your husband. He was younger by several years, his stature smaller than your husband’s. You also noted what appeared to be a private academy uniform and matching tote bag. 

The young man seemed equally surprised to see you, his eyes wide as he watched you slip out the front door and close it behind you. He seemed unsettled, stepping back reflexively as you stepped closer.

“Can I help you?” Your voice carried your uncertainty. It shook you to see someone who was the spitting image of your husband and his father. Was he a relative, a cousin maybe? Other than Kyojuro’s mother you hadn’t been told about any other relatives.

“Um. Im Senjuro Rengoku, is my brother in?” 

You blinked. No that couldn’t be right, you hadn’t heard him properly. Tilting your head, you let out a nervous laugh, mind racing, “Your brother?”

The young man nodded, his brow furrowed in concern as he looked at you and then the doors of the estate. You nodded back slowly, hand pressed to your mouth as you tried to calm your mind. 

Why had Kyojuro not told you? Was it Shinjuro’s doing? Was this boy truly your husband’s brother? Was this a trick, a cruel prank of some sort from Shinjuro? A test maybe? 

“But.” You lowered your hand, forehead wrinkled in confusion, “My husband doesn’t have a brother?” 

It came out as a weak question, but the effect it had on the young man was visceral. Senjuro rocked back as if hit, his eyes wide, lips trembling as he mouthed what you had stated. His hands came up, twisting together nervously as he looked at you, tears in his eyes. The small tote bag sat at his feet, dropped in his shock. Your response had upset him immensely. 

Looking back at the house, the empty windows that might soon contain spying staff, you took action. Grabbing his hand you hurried down the driveway towards the garage. Genya would be there no doubt, it would be a safe place to talk. Senjuro followed, sniffling slightly. The gravel crunched loudly as you trotted to the large garage. You slipped slightly on the slippery gravel, cursing at your heels. Slowing down you kept your hand on Senjuro’s arm, reaching out to knock on the side of the garage.

“You ok Mrs. Rengoku?!” It was Genya, he must’ve heard you slip. The young man exited the building, wiping his hands with a rag. There were large streaks of grease smeared across his face. The front of his overalls fared a similar fate, the blue fabric dark with car oil. You had interrupted car maintenance it seemed. 

“I’m ok. Is the garage safe to talk in?” 

He nodded slowly,tossing the rag onto the hood of one of the many cars. Genya froze, then smiled as he caught sight of Senjuro. “Dude. You’re back?!” 

Genya pulled the other boy into a rough hug, cackling as he did so. Neither of them seemed to notice the grease that rubbed off onto Senjuro’s uniform. Both boys seemed thrilled to see each other, their smiles huge as they turned to enter the garage. Following them into the building, you cast a furtive glance back at the house, windows still empty. Good, they could spy on the empty rooms for the time being. 

The garage stunk, patches of oil soaked concrete giving off the awful odor. You tried your best not to make a face, the fumes making you want to gag. Neither boy seemed to mind, or they were used to it. Genya leaned back against one of Kyojuro’s cars, his grin wide as Senjuro softly spoke. You stayed quiet for a moment, taking in the rows of tools and the many parts littered around the various tables. The boys went quiet, watching you glance about. You shot them a tired smile.

“So, Kyojuro has a brother?” You collapsed onto the patchwork armchair Genya kept near his tool bench. It creaked horrible and you winced as a rouge spring dug into your back. Shifting uncomfortably, you waited for an answer. Both boys nodded at you, Senjuro looking confused and Genya looking sheepish.

“Is this another one of Shinjuro’s stupid rules?” Your tone was tired, you tilted your head back against the chair, looking up at the dusty rafters of the garage. There were small holes in the roof, the sunlight streaming in catching the dancing dust particles in the air. You grimaced, looking back at the two boys. Both of them looked at eachother, then at you. Senjuro opened his mouth, then closed it, his hand clenching the strap of his tote bag.

“I don’t know.” His lip trembled as he looked at you, “Kyo didn’t even tell me he got married.” 

Your heart ached for the young man. He looked devastated, amber eyes swimming with tears he was trying so hard not to shed. The boy was like a tiny version of your husband, your mind going back to the night he first cried in front of you.

Standing you quickly drew him into a hug. Senjuro’s fingers dug into your dress, his shoulders shaking as he began to cry silently. His head pressed against your collar bone, warm tears soaking into the fabric of your dress. It felt oddly similar to when you had held Kyojuro. The anger, the hurt, both men so tormented by their fucked up father. You patted his short fiery locks gently, looking at Genya who remained silent, his expression guilty. The young man sighed, his mohawk flopping in his face as he looked at the floor. 

“Mr. Rengoku told Kyojuro that if you were told about Senjuro, he would never be able to visit his mother’s grave again.” 

Oh of course he did, anger welled in your stomach, churning like a great beast within your blood. Black mailing your children was such a classy thing to do, you thought bitterly. Senjuro cried harder at the words, hiccuping as he sobbed into your shoulder. You rubbed his back reassuringly, ignoring the wet patch that was spread across your shoulder. Genya’s bottom lip trembled slightly, he looked ready to cry now. He twisted the dirty rag in his hand, taking a deep breath as he continued. 

“He was also told that if he told Senjuro about you, that um, Mr. Rengoku would make sure he never saw Senjuro again.”

Your mouth dropped open. What in the hell was wrong with the man? Had alcohol addled his brain so much that he no longer could think logically? How could a parent be so cruel to their child? 

Your own parents came to mind, their large smiles not at you, but at the check that was handed over as you were escorted like a prisoner to a private limo. Not even a true goodbye from them, just a limp wave in your general direction. Maybe it wasn’t the alcohol at all, but the money. It seemed the more one had, the less human they behaved. 

Senjuro pulled away from you, swiping a hand across his eyes. He looked so hurt, his frame shaking as he tried to catch his breath. You patted his hair reassuringly, flashing him a small smile.

The young man looked at you, running a hand under his nose as he stared. He was sizing you up, you realized. Straightening, you smiled at him, hands naturally coming up to rest at your waist. It was a pose you had perfected for photos with Kyojuro and meetings with Shinjuro. 

“You look nice.” Senjuro smiled, rubbing at his puffy eyes, “Your hug was warm, kind.” He paused, lips trembling again as he stared, “It's been a while since I’ve been hugged.” 

Poor kid, your heart ached for him. He looked so lost and sad. The apparent exclusion his father had him put through weighing on him heavily. It made your anger at the drunk swell in your breast. Your hands shook slightly as you attempted to swallow the fury.

“Do you guys want a snack?” Genya motioned to a small door in the back of the garage. Senjuro nodded and trailed after him. You followed quietly, feeling worried. To your surprise, you found yourself walking into what appeared to be Genya’s room. A small bed with purple blankets was tucked in the corner on one side. On the other a small kitchenette with a table and two chairs. Did Genya stay out here by himself? You worriedly looked about, noting how drafty the space was, the apparent lack of a bathroom. The other staff also lived on the grounds, but in a small house at the back of the estate. It had separate rooms, spacious living areas for hobbies. This was so cramped in comparison. And right against the garage, you noted that the smell of motor oil and other fumes persisted here. That couldn’t be good for his health. 

“I don’t mind Mrs. Rengoku.” Genya had noticed your worried look. He uncovered a plate of muffins, placing them on the kitchen table. Senjuro sat taking one tiredly. You noted how natural it seemed for him, they must’ve been friends. 

You sat gingerly on Genya’s bed, it was the only open space available. Through the rough blanket you could feel the springs of the mattress digging into your rear. You tried your best to hide your disgust. Shinjuro was one of the richest men in the world and yet his staff had ill fitting uniforms and broken mattresses. It was shameful. 

“Father wasn’t at his estate. So I came here.” You looked up at Senjuro’s words, a frown slipping onto your face. 

“Did you go to the summer estate or the winter one?” You asked, trying to think of where else the man liked to reside. He had several mansions but only two were considered ‘Estates’ by definition due to their sprawling land. Then again there was the new one you had recently seen, though you doubted he was there. Senjuro seemed confused by your question, shaking his head in response.

“I don’t know. I just went to the one I grew up in.” He picked at the muffin in front of him, lips quivering again. “The one near the city center.”

You nodded, that was the historical manor, one that Shinjuro tended to only spend the Summer time in. From what little you had gleaned, it was more convenient business wise during the company's busiest season.

“I think due to the time of year he’s at the winter estate.” You glanced at Genya for help. Other than a few street names, you actually had no idea where anything was located. The city of Nichirin was thousands of miles from your hometown and so different. Genya nodded thoughtfully, quickly swallowing his mouthful of food.

“I actually don’t think he’s in the country right now.” The boy’s response surprised you. Leaning in, you shot him a questioning glance. Genya shrugged, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“My big brother is the head of security and goes everywhere with Mr. Rengoku. He left for America a few days ago.”

You sat back, nodding. That was very good news for you. The old man was in an entirely different part of the world, which meant your little antics here wouldn’t get back to him quickly. In fact you might be able to do a little more outside of the norm without any push back. At least not until the party. 

“If he finds out I’m here. Kyojuro will get in trouble.” Senjuro’s voice broke through your train of thought, the sight of him crying again alarming you. The boy swiped hurriedly at the fat tears rolling down his cheeks, his fluffy brow furrowed. Fishing in your dress pocket, you pulled out a handkerchief, passing it to the sniffling boy.

“My private school's out for the winter. But, I don’t know where to go.” Senjuro was sobbing again, pressing his face in the handkerchief as he did so. It tore your heart in two. The boy seemed so earnest and sweet, yet so very sad. 

You didn’t want Kyojuro to be punished any further and you had a feeling Senjuro would be as well. Word of his arrival would ripple through the staff and eventually make its way back to Shinjuro’s ear. You bit your bottom lip, tapping your wedding ring as you thought. 

This was a road bump you would have never thought of. You watched as Senjuro took a glass of water from Genya, both boys sharing a sad smile. Sending him away would be cruel, you mused. And besides, a part of you wanted him to stay. You had so many questions.

Shifting in your seat you winced as another spring dug into you, the sharp metal feeling like it would poke right through your ass cheek. You shifted back and then paused, an idea swimming to the surface of your mind.

Genya needed a new room. The garage and its stink was unacceptable. There were free rooms in the main estate. The small guest suites on the second floor that no one used. You knew for a fact the one on the west side of the house, closest to the back stairs to your room, had two beds. It was a full suite with a master bathroom, small kitchen and plenty of space for two teen boys. You almost cackled out loud, glee coursing through your veins at the idea. 

Shinjuro would be livid if he ever found out. But what he didn’t know, absolutely thrilled you. 

You tugged your phone from its pocket, quickly unlocking it. For just a moment hesitation stilled you, your thumb hovering over Kyojuro’s contact in your phone. But no, he was your husband, you were united.

You quickly pressed it, holding your phone to your ear. Genya and Senjuro shot you identical looks of confusion. You smiled at them, raising a finger to your lips with a wink. In truth you did not expect Kyojuro to pick up. He rarely messaged you and phone calls just did not occur. You knew it was mostly because his father’s intrusive need to monitor everything. But you also knew how busy he was, running the company alongside the old man.

“Yes?” No greeting, just a short word. You jumped at the sound of his voice, heart beat picking up as you took a deep breath.

“Hi! Kyojuro.” You paused, not sure how to continue the conversation. It was simple, ask him about the guest room. But the knowledge that your conversation would later have a third listener gnawed at the back of your mind. 

“Yes?” The word was clipped, a huff of frustration leaving your husband's lips. He must be busy, you realized, chewing at your bottom lip. 

“Well, husband. I find Genya’s room situation completely unacceptable. I think for the time being he should be moved to the main estate.” 

There was a lengthy pause. Then a very confused, “What?” 

Kyojuro sounded distracted and you could hear other voices distantly around him. Had you interrupted a meeting of some sort? You shook the thought from your head, pushing on.

“The room reeks of motor fumes and oil. This is a serious detriment to his health.” You paused, taking a deep breath. In front of you the two teens had become extra befuddled. Genya was mouthing that he was fine. You waved your hand at him as you continued. “So as I said. I propose he is moved to the main estate. At least until we get a contractor to fix this, mess.” 

On the other end of the line you heard Kyojuro let out a huff. You couldn’t tell if it was laughter or a noise of annoyance. A pause and then he sighed.

“Do what you see is fit.”

The line disconnected. That was it. No goodbye, nothing. A small part of you wondered if he was acting irritated for show, or if the annoyance had been real. You almost broke, but a quick sigh and you shook the thought away. Now was not the time to break down. 

“Mrs. Rengoku it’s ok really. I’m ok in here.” Genya’s face was pinched, his expression a mix of worry and apprehension. You nodded at his words, standing and brushing your skirt off.

“I know. However, Senjuro needs a place to stay.” You pointed at the other teen, the boy jumping slightly in his seat. “The staff won’t go into your room. They trust you, they aren’t monitoring you.”

You shrugged, hands in the air, “So Senjuro can stay in there, undetected.” 

Both teens stared wide eyed. It took a moment, but then your words sunk in.

“OH SHIT!” Genya stood, pointing at you excitedly. “Mrs. Rengoku that’s so smart!” 

Senjuro concurred, beginning to cry again. You stepped over and hugged the boy. He was like a little lost puppy someone had kicked. Each time he cried your heart broke. 

Genya quickly packed his things, shoving everything into an oversized duffel bag. You took note of this, deciding that a shopping trip was needed. For both boys you realized as Senjuro confirmed he had nothing other than the clothes on his back.

And now for the hard part. You peeked around the entrance of the garage, looking for any movement in the Estate windows. You saw nothing and after a full five minutes of waiting, deemed it safe to move. Quickly beckoning the teens to follow, you dashed across the driveway. It was incredibly ungraceful and far from the manners expected of a lady in your station. Had Shinjuro seen you he might’ve popped a blood vessel in anger. 

But he wasn’t here, not yet at least.

Making it to the main door you slowly pulled it open, peeking in. The front hall was empty, but you could hear Ms. Gloria’s whining drifting from one of the hallways. You grimaced, pushing the boys inside and quickly following. Pausing again, you cocked your head, trying to gauge how close the event planner was. Too close, but still far enough that the main hall was out of view. Luckily there was no staff milling about either, you suspected most of them had fled to their quarters to avoid the snippish woman. You were tempted to slip your heels off, not wanting to make noise as you crossed the main hall. But if you were caught without them, it would add to Shinjuro’s annoyance and anger.

Carefully you tiptoed across the wide hall, wince at each creak and clack. Despite your best efforts the three of you made noise. The small sounds become large in the echoing space of the hall. 

“Mrs. Rengoku?” From down the hallway Ms. Gloria called out, the sound of heels clacking against the marble flooring. 

You rugged Genya and Senjuro forward, flapping at them frantically in a silent attempt to shoo them up the stairs. They complied, racing up a flight and ducking down. It confused you for a moment and then you realized, Ms. Gloria had made it to the main hall. From where she stood, they couldn’t be seen at that particular bend. Still, if she moved any closer, they might be. 

You stepped forward, nodding at the other woman curtly.

“Yes Ms. Gloria?” You tried to covertly block the stairs, a smile plastered on your face. She did not return the look, her mouth pinching sourly. 

“I would appreciate if you were more attentive to this event Mrs. Rengoku.” The woman sounded down right nasty. You refrained from asking her what the point was, Shinjuro had picked out everything. Instead you nodded politely, tilting your head and gesturing to her to continue.

“Your staff is ill equipped and no one seems to understand anything I’m saying.” 

The urge to roll your eyes overtook you and for a moment you stood frozen, trying not to give in. You noticed that in the various hall entrances, faces peeked out. The staff was here, watching silently. It irked you at first, Shinjuro’s need for control coming to mind. They could no doubt see the teens. Both boys had remained frozen, not wanting to make noise. Your heart sank and anger swirled through your mind. 

But then you took in their expressions. They looked exhausted and defeated. A few of the younger staff had red rimmed eyes like they had been crying. You felt guilty. All day you had been doing your best to avoid Ms. Gloria and as a result this new inexperienced staff had dealt with her abrasiveness. Your gaze shifted back to the other woman, her eyes rolling as she shook her head. 

“Were you rude?” Your question was like a bolt of electricity. Ms. Gloria gasped, her cheeks going red as she sputtered. Her hands came up, fluttering about wildly.

“WHAT?!” The question was shrieked.  The loud noise making everyone in the vicinity wince at just how shrill she was. You rolled your eyes this time, a huff of irritation leaving your lips. Ms. Gloria had spent enough time in the Estate in your opinion.

“I asked you if you were rude to my staff.” You crossed your arms, looking at the other woman sternly. Ms. Gloria for her part, avoided the question, her face no red with anger.

“I am one of the most sought after planners in this city!” She squawked, jabbing a finger in your direction. You glanced at the offending appendage, then back to her. She was slowly moving closer, puffed up like a bear trying to scare you. 

“And I’m the wife of one of the most successful business men in this city.” You shrugged, shaking your head at her. “What would happen if I talked about how abysmal I found your services?” 

Ms. Gloria gasped, one hand clutching her stomach as if you had gut punched her. It was a rather amusing sight. Her hair was becoming disheveled, the woman resembling a chicken more and more with each passing moment. 

You gestured to who you assumed was the newest butler. His face was unfamiliar, but he wore the appropriate attire for the position.

“Mr…?” You waited, smiling at the man’s surprise. He bowed, stepping from the side hall and to your side. As he did so you realized that he was incredibly tall, way taller than any of the other staff. That paired with his long hair and stern eyebrows made him an intimidating figure.

“Mr. Kyogai, Ma’am.” His voice was incredibly low and gruff. You nodded in response, gesturing without looking at the event planner.

“I think it's time for Ms. Gloria to leave.” Kyogai nodded at your words, bowing again before turning to the now very pale woman. She began sputtering again, throwing around words like ‘Mayor’ and ‘newspapers’. The words fell on deaf ears however, Kyogai pushing her towards the door. Ms. Gloria resisted, shrieking again annoyingly. Her heels scraped across the floor, her legs locked in an attempt to resist being forcibly removed. 

You watched as the head maid darted forward, tugging the doors open, allowing a final shove from Kyogai. Quickly the doors were closed again, cutting off the indignant yells of the woman. You all sighed as Kyogai clicked the locks into place. The main hall was filled with silence, a huge sense of relief filling all of you. 

“Oh fuck I was her ride.”

You turned, surprised, to look at Genya. He hung over the rail, eyebrows crinkled with worry. There was a snort from behind you, then a tiny chuckle and full on laughter burst from the head maid. From the side halls other staff began laughing as well. It was contagious and next thing you knew, you were doubled over in laughter, tears of mirth on your cheeks. 

Straightening you swiped a tear from your cheek, giggling as you caught your breath. 

“I can call a ride ma’am. If you like.” It was Kyogai, phone clutched in one large hand. You smiled, half tempted to tell him no. Instead you nodded, chuckling again.

“Thank you.” You gestured to those still hiding in the side halls. “All of you. For dealing with that insufferable woman.”  

Faces peeked back out, small smiles being shot your way. The head maid bowed, her eyes still dancing with amusement.  “Well once I realized she was a bitch we started fucking with her.”

You heard one of the younger staff gasp, chiding the woman for cursing. Waving it off you smiled, extending your hand.

“I’m Mrs. Rengoku. Though I suppose you already knew that.” She nodded, flashing you a wide grin as she took your hand. Her grip was strong and you felt your wrist pop as she shook it. “Susamaru, head maid.” 

It was like a gesture of approval, the rest of the staff trickling forward. You noticed immediately that Shinjuro had cut the staff by nearly 90 percent. Only 8 people stood before you, all of them nervous and other than Kyogai, relatively young. 

There were 4 women, Susamaru, Nezuko, Mukago and Nakime. You realized that it was Mukago you had spoken with earlier in the day. She looked nervous, twisting a lock of white hair around her finger. The 4 male employees consisted of Kyogai, Yahaba, Enmu and Rui who was a literal child. He was solemn as you stared at him, pale blue eyes unblinking.

“We won’t tell. By the way.” It was Susamaru, her tone serious as she nodded at the stairs. You blinked in confusion, then gasped, realizing that Senjuro was in full view.

“Old man Rengoku is a dickhead and then some.” 

There were gasps again at her harsh words, eyes darting to gauge your reaction. You merely smiled, shrugging in response, “I can’t say I disagree.”

This time the gasps were for you. Mukago looked beside herself with worry. You patted her shoulder in reassurance.

“The less Shinjuro knows, the happier I am.” You swallowed the rest of what you wanted to say. Without him they would get to stay on at the estate. If that’s what they wanted. But as long as he controlled everything, their jobs would always be on the line.

“Thank you, again.” This time you were awarded with smiles all around. They seemed more at ease with you. Or at least you hoped they were.

“Please, retire for the day. I will assist Senjuro with his room.” 

They all nodded in response, hurrying away from the main hall excitedly. You smiled as you overheard Rui exclaim he was going to look for spiders in the garden. 

Turning, you let out a massive sigh, climbing up the stairs to join Genya and Senjuro.

“That was intense.” Senjuro mumbled, rucking back on his heels as you made it to the first landing. You nodded, your pleasant expression slipping slightly, “It’ll get back to him. And it’ll be worse. But that is another day.”

The boy nodded at your words, his face a sea of sadness. He knew what you meant all too well. You patted his shoulder as you passed, continuing to the second floor. 

Making your way to the large guest suite, you pushed open the heavy doors and gestured for them to enter. They scurried in, Genya gasping at the sight.

The room was as you had last seen it, everything in its perfect place. The sheets were fresh, the room clean. Even though no one used it, like everything else it was part of the weekly cleaning done. 

Senjuro walked over to the one bed, flopping down face first. Genya followed, tossing his duffel bag on the other bed. He walked around, nodding at each appliance and decoration.

“This is fancy.” 

You hummed in response, staring worriedly at Senjuro. He was crying again, this time the sound was muffled by the large comforter. Genya shot you a small smile, giving you a thumbs up. You took it as he knew what to do. Softly telling them goodnight, you closed the door, exiting to the hallway. It was quiet, the sound of your heels echoing against the high ceilings. 

Not wanting to retire to your room just yet, you made your way to the tiny second kitchen. It was just a regular kitchen, but you preferred it. The wide space and many appliances of the main kitchen was too much.

“Oh! Sorry!” You blurted as you entered, realizing that Kyogai was sitting at the counter. He nodded at you, not taking his eyes from the book in front of him. You weren’t used to seeing staff relaxing in any part of the house. It was both nice and a tad odd. 

“I’ll be quick.” You scurried over to the electric kettle, turning it on as you grabbed a nearby mug.

“You aren’t bothering me.” Kyogai, turned a page, picking up a pen and scribbling something in the margain. The scratching of the pen filled the air, his hand fast as he quickly filled the margin.

Pulling a tea box down from the shelf, you fished out a tea bag. As you waited for the water, you stole glances from the corner of your eye at the large man. He was very unlike any of the other staff that had worked at the estate. Even with the butler attire on, you could tell he was incredibly buff. That combined with his height made you wonder how he had ever become a butler. His physic would be better suited for sports. 

“Forgive me for asking. But how did you become a butler?” You leaned back against the counter, nail clicking against the cold tile. Kyogai placed his pen down, his maroon eyes meeting yours. He seemed to debate speaking, large hands coming up to rest on top of his book.

“Shinjuro Rengoku is black listed by all of the reputable staffing services in the city.” 

His words didn’t surprise you. Between Shinjuro’s abusive language and his high fire rate, it made sense. The amount of times you had seen people leave in tears had always made you wonder how he ever got replacements. 

Kyogai let out a sigh, shifting on the stool as he spoke. “He happens to be in good standing with my employer, Muzan.” You nodded at the name, it was familiar. Muzan was some big banker, the man constantly in articles about being the richest man in the city. While you had never met him face to face, from what little you knew, the man seemed dull and arrogant. 

“So you work for Muzan then?” The water kettle clicked off as it finished boiling. You turned and quickly poured your cup of tea. From behind you, Kyogai chuckled wryly.

“That’s a nice way to put it. No, I took a loan from him.”

You frowned, turning back to him. That didn’t track. Taking a loan didn’t make one a butler. Kyogai seemed to know what you were thinking, the man shrugging at you. He ran a hand through his long hair, inspecting the ends as he spoke. 

“Read contracts before you sign them. All of us here signed and didn’t see the fine print.”

He leaned back, hands splayed in the air as if he were using a giant touch screen.

“If loan is not repaid within a 4 month span, the signee will become an employee of Muzan Inc. until said loan is paid off.”

He recited it dully, the words falling like lead. Kyogai had no doubt spent hours reading and re-reading that phrase. You would too if you had become an indentured servant unknowingly. 

“So here we are. Doing whatever jobs Muzan deems fit.” He gestured around him, “For now, estate staff.”

You nodded grimly, distaste welling in the back of your throat. It didn’t surprise you. One didn’t become the richest man by being nice. You thought of the small group, how timid they were today. What else had Muzan asked them to do.

“Wait!” You stood up straight, eyebrows pulling down in confusion, “Rui is like what, 8 at most? He legally can’t sign for a loan.”

Kyogai nodded at your response, sighing slowly. “Just because a person dies doesn’t mean their debt with Muzan disappears. Rui inherited his parents' debt.” 

The notion sickened you. Kyogai shared your look of disgust, shaking his head as he looked back at his book. You bade him goodnight, not wanting to disturb him further. As you headed to your room, tea in hand, your mind buzzed with thought. You felt sickened by this new revelation. Staff that wasn’t actually being paid. Shinjuro working with a man who had the morals of a Demon.

As sick as it made you, none of it surprised you. This was the world of wealth. Fake friends, fake family. Nothing was real to them except exorbitant luxuries and being ‘The Best’. 

You sank into the thick armchair that sat nearest your closet. As you sipped your tea, one foot tapped the carpet. Now instead of just getting yourself out, you had several people on your mind. Kyojuro and Senjuro deserved freedom and happiness. As did Genya and the rest of the staff.

Your foot tapping picked up pace as your thoughts did. Somehow, you would get all of them out of here. All of you would wriggle out from under the filthy heel of Shinjuro Rengoku. Or at least you would die trying.

You set the teacup down, leaning back in the chair to look up at the high ceilings, feeling the calm before the storm. 

6 days until the party.

Part 4

[saphirered]

For the winter prompts: Azriel x reader x Eris, blizzard. Not angsty. 😍

It's a short one but I hope you'll like it either way. No angst, just (affectionate) bickering that reminds me of three cats that fell in the bathtub. 😘

The dark heavy clouds above just a few hours ago should have been a clear warning. This warning, was instead clearly ignored. ‘We can make it before the storm hits’ those words echo through the mountainous expanse upon not but memory. Azriel doesn’t quite recall if it was you or the Autumn Court prick who had challenged nature so to the point all three of you now wander through a heavy layer of snow, pelted by wind and ice with a sight barely further than an arm’s length even with superior senses. He’ll happily shift that blame to likely the most guilty of all, but in reality it’s the sheer fact that Eris seems the least amount affected by the horrible weather. It is exactly that smug attitude that melts away every shard of ice, and snowflakes upon contact. Though this does not mean the Autumn noble isn’t equally miserable. The two have taken to arguing constantly, quipping back and forth to the point you have stepped ahead, so the wind may numb your hearing and block out their voices, to no avail. 

“If it wasn’t for your need to show off, you could have winnowed us out of here already.” The Illyrian grumbles. That earns a snort from Eris. 

“Oh I am terribly sorry for keeping your ungrateful arse warm through the ice mist. Next time I’ll let you freeze to death. You’ll hear no objections from me.” Azriel prepares to retort, offering a beat of his wing and sending an extra heavy current of snow his way. You’ve noticed this happening and stop, turning on your heels, the fuming expression you carry might as well have melted the snow around you but you wrap your arms around yourself tighter, pull tighter the protective garments that keep you perpetually miserable but alive in this harsh weather. 

“Will you two knock it off! I’ve had enough of this endless bickering! Now shut it and behave before I throw you both off this mountain!” Eris bites the inside of his cheek to prevent some kind of witty retort to escape his lips leading you to make good on this promise. Azriel mirrors that expression and glances between the drop to his side, debating his chances. It’s not like he’ll fall far before his wings catch him. When you realise your comment Eris’ resilience breaks, a resolve you’re an expert at breaking away. Silver words, and cleverly chosen sentences have been his speciality but with you he sometimes struggles not to speak what’s on his mind, particularly so when it deals with your image of him so if he in this discomfort and unfair circumstances can throw Azriel under the proverbial carriage, he will in a heartbeat. 

“My apologies, petal. It’s just I hardly think it fair to threaten me with a demise when he has wings. I’d deem it equally unfair to blame me for our predicament. Why don’t you put those wings to work, dear Azriel, and carry us out of here?” Of course he couldn’t hold his tongue. Of course neither could Azriel who joins your side, wrapping an arm around you and shielding you from the worst of the wind despite the numbness in his wings. He gives Eris a look as you curl closer to him and his wing curls with you as much as it can. 

“I’m perfectly content flying the two of us out of here.” You’d gone over this before, in this weather it’s too risky. You and Eris would both be plummeting to your deaths with one savage gust not even a weathered Illyrian could brave. Of course Azriel had offered to take just you and leave Eris on the mountainside but you’d refused. It takes you just one look at him to say this was not going to happen and you’ll be suffering together, all three of you. You’d told him he could go off on his own but he’d never leave you alone in this. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Eris to assure your wellbeing, it’s just that he thinks he’s better at it. “The firebug can take care of himself.” 

“That’s enough out of you. We’re not leaving anyone behind now can we please keep walking before my toes freeze off!” You shiver and remove yourself from Azriel’s embrace, hold out your gloved hand to Eris. He gives Azriel a look that one is mirrored when you lace your other hand with the Illyrian’s and push on. 

“The ‘firebug’ can speak for himself, thank you very much. I much rather prefer this company to solitude.” And that’s about as much as an acceptance or admittance to affection you’re going to get out of Eris when he’s in a mood like this. The tension fleets and you continue moving, hand in hand, huddled together to bear the worst of it as you trail along this path. Just a few more miles you keep telling yourself. Just a few more miles until you can find shelter and warm up in their arms, engulf yourself in their embrace and be reminded once more that maybe the cold isn’t such a bad thing if you got these two to keep you warm. 

[ars-ceratinus]

I find it very ironic that I'm possessed to make this post over any other post meaningfully explaining any aspect of my personal work, but I'm accepting to the whims of fate and so here we are.

Valerie Swaine, at her core, is a deeply dissatisfied 29-32 year-old adult from a red brick middle class Essex household with a primary school tutor mother and an accountant father. The fact that after turning 27 and realizing with mounting dread that she was bound to live and die in Southend-on-Sea working at a grocer's, she did not pick up a sport or learn to paint but instead committed herself to moving and starting a life of Very Real Very Dangerous crime should tell you all you need to know about her as a person. Valerie wants all of her misanthropic monologues and cynical assumptions of the world to be true. She's created this narrative for herself wherein she is the dark shadow in the corner waiting to prove herself, where murder, mayhem, and a life in the underbelly scratch her itch. Valerie did not go to university. She struggles to hold down a normal day job and is socially inept at best when dealing with other people. She places little importance on material goods such as food, good clothing, nice furniture, etc. But, judges other's choices in the matter with a distinctly white-collar club tennis derision. She sincerely believes that the excitement of a life of organized crime in London will cure her of this malaise, but she is deeply mistaken. This mistake will not be acknowledged of course, until it is far too late.

And the end of the day, Valerie thinks that she's the smartest person in the room. That she's got the world figured out and everyone else is slow on the catch-up. The type of person to willfully ignore advice, then blame the weather or a faulty machine part when her plans go to shit. However, at her very core, Valerie is not a "bad" person, whatever that means. She's done bad things, and willfully chooses to continue doing them. She manipulates the people closest to her, causing the catastrophic fallout which ends with her free of her life of killing for money but at a terrible cost. She's was a horrible human being. However I think it is important to note that while she is deeply flawed, she crucially makes the choice to forge an honest life for herself, even if it might have been too little too late.

[shatterthefragments]

okay is it hot as balls where you live right now, or did you manage to dodge the heat wave???? because I'm borderline dying over here

rest in fucking pieces western canada, smh

It is indeed hot as balls (but (and I’m going to sound exactly like people saying “back in the blizzard of x”) not as overwhelmingly hot as the heat dome of ‘21.)

*hugs you with ice blankets!!!!!!!!* I hope it passes soon for you and it’s tolerable soon!! 🫂🧊

RIFP western Canada indeed 🪦

Honestly I am SO PRIVILEGED bc my workplace is kept pretty cool (it’s a grocery store) (I am 🤏 this close to demanding a fight to the death to the next customer who says it’s nice out (to be fair at 7am it is still nice)) and I have a nice setup to keep cool on my break outside/in the car (it’s nearly a shade box and I have ice packs and a mini fan) even if I still get very warm doing my job. (I am taking it slowly so that I hopefully don’t overdo it)

And I drive. And I can usually get going quick enough that the wind from the open windows isn’t too bad. (I try to park where there’s going to be shade over the car when I get off) and bc mum and I aren’t good in the heat we have many fans already so we have several fans going and with the furnace “cool air fan” as well. the house isn’t that bad either with all the fans going (not about to do more than absolutely necessary or bake anything though)

Like. Tbh. At 6-8 degrees cooler. I felt way hotter last week when I got my new tattoo bc I was walking around in high humidity SWEATING SO MUCH and it couldn’t evaporate until I got a long time to sit under strong cool air. Bc I wasn’t just inside all the time like im making a concerted effort to stay inside right now.

But uh. After the heat dome of ‘21. Definitely got Even More fans. (Some rechargeable portable ones) More cooling bandanas. More ice packs.

Despite the horrors, that is still an adorable picture of you 😁 🥰 May the shade cloak you in coolness soon!!

It’s me!! (With enough fans and access to the concrete floored basement that I can lay on as needed - or sleep on if desperate so far it’s tolerable indoors at least :) …I say as if I haven’t had at least a bit of a headache most days DESPITE holding up at least two of the food/water/sleep triangle of helping to prevent but the Tylenol and Advil are mostly keeping it from getting too bad so far. ) but uh. I’m managing alright as long as I can mostly stay inside I think

(I uh. Totally answered the door in a mesh bra and just the shorts. Oops 🤷🏻‍♂️) it’s. Just about 30 which. Is awful and horrible and Should Not Be. (I remember when 25 was a BIG DEAL bc it wasn’t normal) but at least it hasn’t crossed above 30 yet. And it shouldn’t based on my shitty weather apps’ latest forecast update? We’ll see but I am HOPEFUL!!

Im. Physically. Physically I’m doing better than expected to be honest. But I’ve feared the heat of the summer for a while and EVEN MORE bc of how I had to try to hold it together during the heat dome and how I really couldn’t but had to help mum survive it. I’m mentally not doing great because I am so stressed out and kinda panicking (even though mentally I’m not even panicking im jsut resigned) over it even though I know I’m as prepared as I can reasonably be and I have lots of stuff to help keep cool.

My sister (THE FUCKER) is enjoying it and is actively going outside to lay in the sun 😭 (she wears sunscreen at least)

Uhhhh venty TW for uh. A whole bunch of shit/anything you can think of probably tbh. (Stress, panic, suicide, disordered eating, weight are the big things) Under the cut 😬 (but seriously as long as I survive the heat (and hopefully don’t catch Covid again even though I have to sometimes drink a little bit at work and probably won’t wear a mask (as I do in all indoor spaces) on my ship when I sail tbh) I’ll be okay :))

Like the stress and panic is. Like I don’t mentally feel like I’m panicking. But my body certainly feels like it. It’s awful and horrible and I can’t wait for fall to come. Or the cold wind on the sailboat. Or at least just. Low 20s as the high again.

BC despite what everything in me is saying. I WILL fucking survive this. The alternative doesn’t let me talk to my friends and make silly doodles.

But it’s been a while since I’ve felt so like. Suicidal. but strangely so disconnected from it. (Don’t worry I’ll survive The Thoughts,they’re just an old friend at this point that comes back every once in a while like “STILL? 🙄” even though for the most part I actually like. Want to live and am the happiest I’ve been in my life.

But more than that (bc that’s tolerable and I’m the Most Familiar with that) it’s the fucking. I’m having trouble eating bc of the stress and heat. (I was able to eat my after work dinner though which is good bc I have a board meeting soon)

And with certain people being harder on my food choices than normal I’m just “just lose weight. 50 pounds and nobody could say shit” is PREVALENT and echoing but. I don’t really have the energy to devote to that. And while it may be important to build my strength back up to Portaging again (bc I want to do more paddling) but the thing is there are only two valid reasons right now for me to seek to lose weight (my doctor (who to be fair I rarely see but at least once a year lately for various complaints) hasn’t said anything)

One reason is bc I’d probably fare better in the heat if I were smaller. (The other is maybe I wouldn’t wear out the thighs of my pants so quickly).

But the only two times I tend to ALLEGEDLY lose weight are if I’m stress free walking around on vacation for a While or if I’m basically relapsed into an eating disorder, not otherwise specified. (Nobody knew nobody figured it out but I live i got through it I’m fucking amazing bc I live. And I give myself the fuel to keep going bc fuck it never really worked bc I needed nobody to know so badly that I still needed to eat a bit but even still now even knowing how much harm it could’ve done I’m still fucking proud of the fact that I’ve gone 48 hours without eating anything at all. And I hate that I am. (Or after sailing and then getting covid I did end up losing at least 10, but I don’t keep very good track of my weight generally for my own sanity and wellness)

But unfortunately I don’t have the kind of money to quit my job or reduce hours to part time and just walk everywhere without regard to time.

So I’m at a bit of an impasse.

Im. Mostly okay with my body. It hurts a lot. But generally speaking I can do everything I want or need it to do if I haven’t reached my limit that day.

Im striving for body neutrality and positivity on better days.

Like fuck. Someone else I’d find cute with my body. But because it’s *me*

But it’s fine.

I’ll survive. I’ll read some stuff to cathart.

Hopefully I’ll get some time once it cools down to SHAKE MY ASS to some of the cool new music that I’ve been sent bc tbh I think honestly it would help a LOT. (Finding the joy in movement to letting the music take over FUCK YEAH)

I’ll be okay. It just kinda sucks and the heat just. Seeps in and makes everything worse. Like I’m cooking in all my own insecurities and issues and throwing it on the fire just. Does not help. But I’ll be okay. (I always end up okay)

The scariest part is that I’m not even on any medication that increases heat intolerance. (I probably should be but. Alas)

I’ll be ok.

[cetaitlaverite]

I feel like I need to play devil's advocate and defend Freddie. Daniel's death caused a massive traumatic shock to Freddie, and as she herself said, it broke something inside her. It’s very understandable why she wants to keep everyone she loves close to her; she doesn’t want to miss any moments with them, good or bad. Also, can you imagine what it must feel like to immigrate to a completely different country, a different continent? By ship, it takes days to arrive in New York, and that's if the weather is good. The first commercial flight from London to New York happened in the late 1950s. The main way of communicating was through letters, which took days to arrive. When Freddie felt homesick, she couldn’t just FaceTime her parents; she had to write a letter or maybe call, but it still wouldn’t be enough.

I know she has Rosie, but it's not the same. You can't tell me that when you have a really hard time, you don’t want your parents. When she has children, she would definitely want her mother (please don’t bring up her age; people want their parents close no matter how old they are. Parents give their children a type of comfort that no one else can). She will have Rosie’s family, but it’s still not the same.You can’t speak to your in law family the same way you speak to your, no matter how much you love them.

Is she spoiled and selfish? Yes, she is, especially when she asked Jen to come to New York because Jen has her own life and everyone she loves is in England. So why should she move to New York just because of Freddie? But Freddie asking her parents to move to New York is not completely unreasonable. Daniel died, and Rosie almost died. Those two instances almost shattered Freddie completely. You can’t call her selfish and spoiled when she wants her parents close to her after everything she has been through. Imagine something happens to your family, but when you learn about it, it’s too late to even say goodbye. Does she need a fresh start somewhere far away from all the horrible things she has been through? Yes, she does! But she is not unreasonable in asking her parents to come with her.

i absolutely get what you’re saying and i do agree with you, in the sense that if i didn’t think it made sense i wouldn’t have had freddie ask her parents to come at all!! it’s completely understandable to me that after her trauma she would want to keep her loved ones close - i wouldn’t have written her with separation anxiety if it wasn’t!!

when i say she’s selfish it’s less because she’s asking at all and more because she expects the answer to be yes. she tells rosie that her parents have no reason to stay in england if she’s not there because her british grandparents are dead, which is a very self-centred perspective to take on the matter. her father’s job is there and her parents have been there since since freddie was 14 - that’s 11 years at this point!! - not to mention it’s the city where they met and fell in love. so they absolutely do have reasons to stay in england even if freddie’s not there.

she’s a spoilt character, it’s a product of her upbringing and her experiences. do i think this makes her a bad person? absolutely not!! she has a good heart, and it’s important that she doesn’t truly understand how much she asks of those she loves because if she did she wouldn’t ask. and moving overseas is a huge deal!! it’ll be such a huge upheaval for her!! but that’s why she shouldn’t expect everyone she loves to do it with her. she can ask, but the main thing that makes her spoiled is that she expects it. when her mother first says no her first instinct is to accuse her of not wanting to have freddie around instead of to understand why she might not want to follow her.

i can understand where you’re coming from with this, though!! and it genuinely makes me so happy you wanted to come and defend freddie - she’s my baby and i’m so glad you love her as much as i do!!! but ultimately we can love her and empathise with her and understand why she does the things she does without always having to agree with them. it’s understandable that she wants her family close to her, after everything, but she can’t demand it of them. the same way rosie had to let freddie make the choice for herself whether she wanted to follow him to america, freddie has to let her parents decide, too.

[big-snot-1997]

Holding Back

Spamton x Reader

-----18+ ONLY-----

2.8k words

Contains: Sneeze kink, nose kink, ambiguous/implied contagion, sneeze stifling, messy sneezing, sneeze inducing, sniffling, nose blowing, mask kink (just a little bit), sexual content (arousal references), very infrequent swearing, unspoken love confession, flirting, kissing, cuddling, spooning, pet names

Additional descriptors: Sick fic, Reader is gender neutral, Reader is not Kris, Reader is a Lightner, Reader is anxious, Reader is afraid of rejection, Reader takes Spamton home, Spamton likes being held, No use of (Y/N)

Synopsis: You are a Lightner living in Cyber City, and you've had a crush on Spamton for quite some time. You often go into his store and buy something just to have an excuse to talk to him. You've decided that today is the day you'll finally work up the nerve to tell him how you feel...but when you arrive at his store, you find that he's feeling under the weather. He's trying very hard not to sneeze in front of you, but you want just the opposite...

AO3 Link

Okay. Today is the day, you think to yourself as you walk down the alley full of trash that has been becoming more and more familiar to you. I'm finally going to tell him how I feel, once and for all. You have wanted to tell him for a while, and this isn't the first time you've gone to his store with the intent to confess your feelings, but you've always backed out at the last second. You're pretty sure he feels the same way about you - he's flirted with you multiple times before - but you can't seem to shake the nagging doubt in your mind. You've been rejected before, and it's a horrible feeling.

No. I'm putting my foot down. I'm not backing out this time. You've grown tired of the anxiety that comes with not knowing how he really feels about you. You can't stand it anymore.

You take a deep breath and try to stop your hands from shaking as you walk down the path to Spamton's shop. Just the thought of seeing the big smile he always has on his face is making your heart flutter. You steel yourself, open the door, and step inside.

Spamton is sorting through some items, and when he hears the door open, he turns to greet you. "HEY-HE Y HEY!!! IF IT ISN'T MY FAVORITE [[Valued Customer]] !!"

A blush spreads across your face. Favorite customer? He's never called me that before... "Hi Spamton, it's good to see you!" you respond, unable to stop your voice from shaking.

"A [[Pleasure]] AS ALWAYS, LIGHT nER!! WHAT KIND OF [[Specil Deals]] ARE YOU IN THE MARKET FOR TODAY?"

Shit. You forgot to decide what you were going to tell him you came to the store to buy. You scramble to think of something. "Um...Well..." Your eyes drift to a clothing rack in the corner. Aha! "The coat I have is getting pretty worn out, and I think it's time I got a new one. Do you have any for sale?"

Spamton's eyes light up. "YOU 'VE COME TO THE [[Right Place]] LIGHT nER!! COME WITH ME !"

Hmm...is it me, or does his voice sound...different than usual? Lower? Quieter? He walks over to the coat rack and motions for you to follow him. When you come close to him, he backs away. That's weird. He doesn't usually mind me being that close to him. What's wrong? Is it something I did? You feel disheartened.

He looks you in the eyes as he gestures to each coat. "WHAT [[RGB or CMYK Color]] ARE YOU LOOKING FOR? I'VE GOT [[Red]], [[Blue]], [[Brown]], [[undefined]], AND [[Colors Only Shrimp Can See? This Will Blow Your Mind]] !!"

You can't help but smile. You've always found his adspeak endearing. "Hmm...I'm not sure, actually. I think I'll take a look at each one."

Spamton nods. "GO AHEAD!!!"

You take the first coat off the rack - a bright red one. You take your time inspecting it, but you're only half-focused on it - your thoughts and your heart are racing. Should I ask him out? He's keeping his distance from me...is he mad at me? Then, as you try the coat on, you hear Spamton sniffling next to you. You discreetly turn to look at him, and that's when you notice how red his nose is. He starts sniffling harder...

"HHH...H-HIH..." His nostrils flare and he presses one finger under his nose, clearly stifling a sneeze.

Oh... Your breath hitches and you feel a sudden jolt of arousal. You've wanted to see Spamton sneeze with that big, handsome nose of his for a while, and you've certainly thought about it more than once...could it finally happen today?

"IS EVERYTHING [100% Satisfaction], LIGHT nER?" Spamton's words snap you out of your daydreaming. You realize that you've been staring at him, and you should probably check up on him.

"Spamton, are you feeling okay?" you ask.

"OH, I' M 4LRIGHT [[Valued Customer]]!!" He pauses to sniffle again. "I'VE JUST GOT A LITTLE [[Cold]]..."

So that's why he's been trying not to get too close to me. Against your better judgment, his admission makes you feel even more excited... Snap out of it! Your friend needs help.

"Spamton, you should be resting. Why don't you..." Your heart starts to pound and your vision becomes blurry, but you push yourself to continue speaking. "Why don't you come to my apartment? You can rest and take a shower there, and I'll make you some soup." The poor man shouldn't be running a store or sleeping in a dumpster in this state.

"BUT LIGHT nER!!! I'VE GOT TO SELL YOU YOUR [Coat]!! I'VE GOT TO MAKE [[HotD3als]] [[50% Off]] [[Buy Now]] !!!" He leans against the wall and seems out of breath.

"Forget it. Your health is much more important to me than getting a new coat. And you can't keep making deals if you push yourself like this."

Spamton sighs. "OKAY...IF YOU [Insist]..."

You smile at him. "Follow me. It's not too far of a walk from here." You exit the store, and he trails a few feet behind you, locking the door on his way out.

Hmm...if he doesn't want to get anyone else sick, why wasn't he wearing a mask? The thought crosses your mind as you and Spamton walk down the street. You answer your own question when you try to picture a mask fitting over his sharp, absurdly long nose. You can't help smiling at the mental image.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear him sniffling again. "hh...HHH-HAH...!" He once again stops himself from sneezing, and you can feel your face flush. You turn to look at him, and he looks more run-down than he did a few minutes ago.

"Spamton, you look really tired. We're not even halfway there yet... Do you want me to carry you the rest of the way?"

You swear you can see Spamton's eyes light up at your question. "LIGHT nER...WHAT A [[Genoris]] OFFER!! ARE YOU SURE...?"

You smile. "Yes, I'm sure. Come here." You approach him and lift him off the ground. The four-foot-tall puppet man is much lighter than you expected. You carry him with both your arms, and he wraps his arms around your neck and shoulders for support. You see him blush lightly and look away. Does he...like being held? That's so cute...

His face is now closer to yours than it has ever been, and you try not to stare at his nose. You have complemented him on it before, which surprised him a bit, but there's no way he knows just how much you like it...He flares his nostrils and sniffs loudly while you're looking right at his nose, and you bite your lip.

He's surprisingly quiet throughout the duration of the trip, and after several more minutes of walking in silence, you finally reach your apartment. "Well, here we are," you say, gently placing him on the ground. "Go on in." You open the door and let him enter before you. "Sorry it's a bit of a mess, I wasn't expecting company. The bathroom is right over there. Why don't you go take a shower, and I'll get a change of clothes ready for you and start cooking the soup?"

Spamton looks around with his jaw hanging open, seemingly in awe. "WOW !! [[Nice Digs]]!!!"

You laugh lightly. Right, I guess anything is better than the dumpster he's living in. "I'm glad you like it, Spamton. Now go on and freshen up."

Spamton nods and enters the bathroom. You go into your bedroom and search for some suitable clothes for him. You settle on a t-shirt featuring your favorite band and a pair of comfortable shorts. These should be okay, you think to yourself before returning to the bathroom. "Spamton, I'm putting the clothes right out here, okay?" you say loudly before setting them down in front of the door.

"OKAY!!" he responds. You walk to your kitchen and dig through the cabinets for a can of soup. Ah, here we go. Chicken and rice soup. You pour the soup into a pot and begin cooking it on the stovetop. As it cooks, you open a plastic sleeve full of crackers and arrange them all on a plate.

Several minutes later, the soup is done, and you hear Spamton calling you. "LIGHT nER? WHERE ARE YOU??" His voice sounds a bit scratchy.

"I'm in here, Spamton. I just finished cooking your soup," you say as you pour it into a bowl. You hear his footsteps as he approaches, and you smile immediately when you see him. His usually slicked-back hair is down and messy, and he's in your oversized t-shirt. God, he's so cute...

Then you notice how tired he looks. He has bags under his eyes, which are half-closed. "Aw, Spamton..." You pick up the bowl of soup and the plate of crackers. "You really need some rest. Come on, get on the couch and make yourself comfortable."

He sniffles again. "OKAY..."

Poor guy. He certainly isn't his usual talkative and energetic self. He walks slowly to the living room, lifts himself onto the couch and sits down. You notice him shiver. "I'll go get you a blanket," you say as you hand him his soup and place the plate of crackers on the end table next to him. "Feel free to put something on the TV."

He smiles at you, and you walk to your bedroom to retrieve your spare blanket. The situation you're in finally sinks in. Oh my God, the man I'm in love with is in my apartment... You blush and your heart speeds up. You try to ignore it and return to your living room with the blanket. "Here you are," you say as you gently wrap the blanket around Spamton. "How's the soup?"

He seems to perk up just a bit. "IT'S [[Top Notch]], LIGHT nER," he says with a weak smile. You sit down beside him and see that he's put on the shopping channel. There is a male Darkner gesturing towards an expensive-looking watch on a slowly spinning pedestal and talking about how great it is. Not something I would have picked, but if that's what Spamton likes to watch, then sure.

The two of you watch the television together, and Spamton finishes eating his soup and crackers in just a few minutes, setting the dishes aside. Aw, poor guy must've been hungry... Then, you hear Spamton start to sniffle once again.

"G-HH...HHEH...H-HAH-!" This time, he has to grab his nose with one hand to stop himself from sneezing. You feel a strange mixture of arousal and concern for him.

You turn and look at him gently. "Spamton...why won't you let yourself sneeze?"

His eyes widen, and he sounds congested when he speaks. "I-I CAN'T [[Sneeze]] IN FRONT OF A [[Valued Cust0mer]]...!!" He sniffles very wetly.

"And why's that?"

He frowns. "IT WOULDN  'T BE VERY [[Number 1 Rated Salesman1997]] OF ME..."

You lean towards him slightly and look into his eyes. "Spamton, it's okay. You can't keep holding back your sneezes. It's not good for you."

"BUT I..." He begins to speak and is interrupted by another oncoming sneeze. "I-...HHHEH..AH!" He stifles it again. You can't help blushing. I can't believe this guy... He sniffles even more wetly than before.

"Spamton, I'm not going to let you keep doing this to yourself."

"I'M FINE...! DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME..." He sounds more congested than ever.

You get an idea... Okay, that does it. You stand up and walk over to where you keep your feather duster. You pick it up, pluck off one feather, and put it back.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING LIGHT nER??"

You get back on the couch, practically on top of Spamton, and point the feather at his nose. "Spamton, this is your last warning. I'm serious."

You see Spamton's expression change as the realization dawns on him. "YOU'RE...GOING TO MAKE ME SNEEZE??" You lean closer to him and nod slowly, trying to hide that his acknowledgement of your intention is turning you on...

Spamton softens his voice. "I...DON'T WANT YOU TO [[Catch my cold]]..."

You stop to think for a moment. Can I even get sick from a Darkner? He's from the Cyber World. Doesn't he technically have a computer virus?...You'll worry about that later. You take a shaky breath, lower and tilt your head...and give him a gentle kiss right on the base of his nose.

He gasps, and a blush spreads across his face. He places a hand on his chest and takes a few moments to connect the dots. With just one gesture, you've told him everything he needed to know...

His look of initial shock turns into a half-lidded smirk. He looks you in the eyes and starts to gently stroke your hair with one hand, and he speaks to you in a quiet, soft voice you didn't even know he had.

"You want me to sneeze...don't you, [Angel]?"

His words send an intense wave of arousal through you. You can barely keep yourself together. Is this really happening? All you can do is sheepishly nod your head.

"I see...go ahead, [sweetheart]..." He tilts his head back to give you a better view of his nostrils, still looking you in the eyes.

Still barely believing what's happening in front of you, you shakily raise the feather to his nose and gently brush the tip of it against his red nostrils, causing them to twitch. You brush them again in the opposite direction, and his breath hitches.

"hhHHH...HEH...AH..." It seems like he's finally about to sneeze, so you pause for a moment, but it subsides. I guess that wasn't enough... You insert the feather into one of his nostrils and gently brush it against the sides.

"EAHH...AH-HH...ATCHOO!" He finally sneezes, spraying all over your hand and face. His whole body glitches for a second.

"Wow..." you whisper under your breath. You feel like your face is redder than it's ever been.

"hhHHAH...ATCHHXK!" He glitches and sneezes again, and it's even messier than the first one.

"Bless you," you whisper as you stroke the side of his face with your cleaner hand and kiss the tip of his nose. You take a moment to catch your breath and then ask, "Do you feel any better?"

"I DO!!" he responds, and his voice sounds much clearer. "DID YOU..." He winks at you. "...[[Enjoy That]] ?"

"Y-yeah," you answer, smiling meekly and breaking eye contact. Even more than I could have imagined...

Spamton thinks for a moment. "THIS WORKED OUT [Well] FOR US, DIDN'T IT, [[Angel]]? A [[Win-Win Situation]]!!"

You smile at him and nod in agreement. "I'm going to get us cleaned up, okay? Wait here." You go into the bathroom and return with a towel and a box of tissues. "Here..." You grab the towel and gently clean the mess off his face - you're not exactly in a rush to get yourself cleaned up. You hand him the tissues and begin drying yourself off. You hear him blow his nose, and you can't help turning to look...

He notices you staring at him and raises an eyebrow at you. "YOU [[Like That]], LIGHT nER?"

You blush deeply and smile involuntarily, quickly looking away and getting back to drying yourself off. You hear him chuckle lightly at your reaction. Once you've finished, you turn back to Spamton and see that he's falling asleep while watching the TV.

"Spamton, I know this couch isn't too comfortable, so..." Now that you're sure Spamton has feelings for you, you feel comfortable making this proposal. "...would you rather come rest in my bed?"

A light blush spreads across Spamton's face. "SOUNDS LIKE [[A Good Deal]], [Angel]!!" He coughs after speaking.

You smile and show Spamton to your room, bringing the box of tissues along with you. "Here, go ahead and make yourself comfortable," you say as you gesture to your bed. "I'll be back in a couple minutes." Spamton nods, and you go back to the living room to tidy up the dirty dishes, used tissues, and everything else. When you return, you see that he has tucked himself in and is already dozing off. You get into bed with him and wrap your arms around him from behind, pulling him into your chest and resting your chin in his hair. You hear him hum in contentment.

"So," you begin asking him, "you don't like to sneeze in front of people because you're embarrassed that it makes you glitch?"

He sighs. "[You're Correct!]..."

You lightly ruffle his hair. "Well, for what it's worth, I think it's cute."

"OH..." He sniffs. "REALLY? THANK YOU [Angel]..."

You blush in response, still not completely used to his new pet name for you. "Of course," you say as you use one hand to run your fingers through his hair. "You know, Spamton, you're welcome to come here anytime you like."

"I'LL HAVE TO [[Take You Up]] ON THAT [Genoris Offer]," he responds drowsily. A few moments later, you can tell he has fallen asleep by the sound of his gentle snoring. You hug him tighter and close your eyes, focusing on your rampant thoughts about today's events as you eventually drift off.