#I’m sad I immediately have to put them in storage

[lickmycoffeecup]

My silly guys came from @pinchofpeppers !!

[magpod-confessions]

I feel like I see plenty of fandom posts about how Jonathan “I was a deeply annoying child” Sims is autistic but almost none about how Martin “Stop trying to touch the plastic explosive!” Blackwood is obviously ADHD. I see so many little signs!

Ep 4: Jon sends Sasha to double check Martin’s work. Jon was an ass at the time, but also, this is definitely a relatable ADHD experience.

Ep 40: The way he talks about accidentally running away from Prentiss on his own, thinking that Jon and Tim were right behind him but being too overwhelmed with things to check. Even his sad little “it was an accident!” feels like someone repeatedly accused of making mistakes on purpose because no one can understand how you’d be so careless unless you truly didn’t care.

That aside, Jon did notice that Martin was more competent than usual during the attack. it’s a common ADHD thing to be more competent in a crisis than while doing routine work.

Ep 56: When he was confronted about Trevor, he immediately defaults to “maybe I misunderstood” like he is used to not trusting his own recollection of details.

Ep 110: Martin protests that he put back a stack of files that he’d knocked over, and Basira points out that he put them away out of order. It might’ve been on purpose at this point but… he also seemed genuinely anxious about having made a mistake, a classic sort of careless ADHD mistake.

And of course his desire to touch all the dangerous things in Gertrude’s storage unit in 113. Jon resorts to telling him to put his hands in his pockets!

Maybe I relate to him for other reasons and I’m projecting my own ADHD. What do you think?

🗣️

oh god no martin definitely has adhd . as a thing with adhd it's like almost certain in my mind that this man has adhd . - deceit

[1d1195]

Most IV

Read Most here | ~ 5.9k words

From me: I wanted this part to be longer but I think you'll like the next part the most.

Warnings: not really anything special about this part. You are going to hear from Lauren again though, lol

Summary: Harry is desperately trying not to scare her away. She is wondering if this was a terrible idea.

The boys were in the living room putting together a bookshelf and a coffee table that she had to buy since the ones in her apartment at school belonged to Addie. It still left no room for anyone to sit but true to their word, they didn’t need it. They sat around chatting and catching up. Making each other laugh. Harry sat beside her and she could feel his gaze on her every time she shifted. Like she was going to disappear.

When all the pizza was gone, the girls had brought empty boxes to the kitchen but again, she didn’t even have a trash can to throw stuff away. “I don’t think I can live three weeks without some stuff,” she admitted wrinkling her nose. The package of water bottles that the boys picked up with the new pizza was already significantly depleted and the empty bottles they had all drank were lining her counter. The boys were going to need trash bags to put the empty boxes and pieces of Styrofoam somewhere too.

She also thought about how she had packed most of her clothing away in the storage pod as well. Underwear was definitely a necessity.

“A good old fashioned shopping trip would do us some good!” Eleanor proclaimed seeing her friend’s frustration grow. Immediately she ushered her towards the door. She glanced back as she grabbed her purse off the counter just in time to see Harry’s head perk up as he looked at her.

It killed her to see the anxiety on Harry’s face as if she was going to disappear again when she walked out that door. She didn’t just ruin the trust between them, she murdered it. “Um...” she swallowed digging in her purse and gently moving away from Eleanor’s hand. “I don’t have any room in my car anyway,” she shrugged and placed her set of keys on the counter. A quiet assurance she would be back. The relief on Harry’s face was almost as painful to see as his anxiety. Both of those sad emotions on his gorgeous face were entirely her fault. “Do you mind driving, Sarah?”

“Of course not,” she shook her head. “El, can you help me move some stuff in the car so there’s room for three of us?”

She figured there was nothing in her car that required two people to move it. But the girls headed out while Mitch and Louis focused intently on the shelf. Niall nudged Harry silently reading the next set of directions on installing the lifting mechanism for the coffee table. Harry got up from the floor and approached her the way a person would approach a deer in the middle of a hike. Terrified that the poor thing would skitter away at the slightest movement. Their friends were still in earshot, and it seemed weird to have a private goodbye when they were only running to get her some necessities. “I’ll be back,” it felt horrible to reassure him of such a fact.

He nodded and forced a smile that tensed on his face a hair too much. It didn’t reach his eyes. Her stomach was in knots at the sight; she felt so horrible. “Do you need anything?” She asked.

He shook his head. “M’good, kitten. Thank you.”

Her heart continued to flutter at the word kitten. Like he didn’t know what else to call her. “Thank you for helping, I’m sure you’re exhausted after your shift, and you probably want to get home or something—”

“No,” he cut her off. “M’happy t’help and be here,” he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered. It broke her heart all over again that she betrayed his trust. How was she going to make this right?

“Well, thank you,” she repeated graciously. “Really.”

He glanced back at the living room and the boys and then silently, quietly, pushed her into the hallway. With the door closed, he cleared his throat and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I don’t know how t’say this because I don’t know what the rules are. I don’t know what we’re supposed t’do or feel but I jus’ know m’really jealous of the hugs everyone else got and I know I got t’hold your hand and chat with you for a while on m’own... and I know it’s silly m’so jealous of a hug m’friends—who probably missed you in some ways jus’ as much as I did—but m’incredibly jealous and I jus—”

Her arms were around his neck. Her chest against his, even though there were two layers of clothes between them, she swore she could feel his heartbeat. They fit like puzzle pieces. Because of course they did. If it wasn’t for their words, she wasn’t sure she would know they were ever apart at all. Harry’s arms wound around her waist; he sighed so content. Buried his nose in her hair and breathing quietly beside her ear. He was holding her so close; like she might wriggle out of his arms at any moment. Being this close made her stomach flip. It felt new and familiar at the same time. His body felt so warm and strong but very much the same arms and embrace she was used to from years ago. Her face tucked into the curve of his neck; where his cologne gathered and smelled so intoxicatingly of him, she could have cried. His muscles were more defined, but he was still her Harry.

Except he wasn’t, actually. It reminded her of the final scene of a tragic romance movie where the couple should have been acknowledging how they felt about one another all along. But instead, they moved on.

So, her brain turned on again and slowly, begrudgingly, she pulled away. Slow enough that when she was able to view his face, he was looking at her like she wasn’t going to disappear again. A layer of trust had returned for which she was so grateful it ached like nothing she had felt before in the pit of her stomach. “Don’t want to keep the girls waiting too long,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he nodded and put his hand on her doorknob. “We’ll try not t’trash the place,” he smiled, that dimple making her weak all over. She didn’t even want to go shopping. Not without Harry attached to her hip. But he wasn’t hers anymore and it was her own fault.

So she quietly laughed at his joke and turned to the elevator after her friends.

*

Did you know you owned everything?

I was JUST thinking the same thing about you. Carter had nothing useful either. We’ve been shopping for HOURS.

She smiled at her phone while Eleanor and Sarah pushed the cart and walked through the store like they were the ones moving into a new place. Her phone rang and she was quick to pick it up. “Did you see him?” Addie asked excitedly. “Was he overwhelmed? Did he cry? Did he kiss you immediately?”

She sighed, blushing, grateful her friends were distracted so they didn’t see nor hear Addie nearly shouting her questions. “Yes, probably, no, no.”

Addie blew out an annoyed breath. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Addie,” she groaned with frustration and Eleanor glanced back briefly to see her on the phone. She smiled and then turned her attention back on the array of dishware. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what? If you remember how to kiss?”

“Jesus. Christ.”

“I’m sorry about your storage pod,” Addie tried instead. “I bet you miss your notebooks.”

There was a pang of anxiety about the fate of her notebooks on a trip across the country that she couldn’t control. If something happened to them, it might make her insane. She really should have at least scanned them onto the cloud. At least she would have something to do when she got them back before the semester started and she was alone in her apartment with her thoughts. “It’s alright,” but it reminded her to snag a notebook from the office supplies aisle as they walked by. She tossed it over the side of the cart. “Once it’s here and I’m settled, I hope you’ll come for a visit. I’m going to have this super comfy air mattress you can sleep on since my bed isn’t here either.”

Addie laughed. “Excellent.”

“I miss you,” she admitted.

“Miss you too. But this is good. Because you won’t get rid of me. I’m so proud you jumped.” Her cheeks flushed.

“Thank you.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”  

With her phone back in her pocket she glanced at the items in the car that Eleanor and Sarah had selected. They had similar tastes throughout their lives, so she wasn’t worried about the aspect of overall décor and color; but her budget was a bit depleted without a job lined up and dipping into her savings this much was a little worrisome. “We’ve missed you,” Sarah said softly interrupting her thoughts before they spiraled too far. “Think you balanced out the lot of us.”

“I’m freaking out,” she admitted.

They both stopped their leisurely strolling and looked at her nervously. Because terrifyingly enough, she didn’t look like she was freaking out. So the internal side of things must have been bad and they probably had about as much fear as Harry that she might just leave again without warning. She hated that she did this and part of her thought leaving again might be best. Because why would they trust her? After all that. She left without explanation. “Why?” Eleanor asked.

Her voice broke and she sniffled. “He’s going to hate me,” she whispered.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Sarah rolled her eyes and pushed the cart forward not even bothering to entertain her worries. It wasn’t mean and part of her was glad Sarah wasn’t treating her like she was made of glass—she was treating her the way she always had. As if she had never left.

Eleanor smiled sweetly, put a hand on her back and ushered her after Sarah. “Harry will never hate you,” she promised. The relief she felt released a burst of dopamine and made the anxiety she felt disappear almost instantly.

“I hate me,” she grumbled. Eleanor laughed and squeezed her hip.

“We’re so happy you’re back. I don’t know if you heard everything, but Harry wasn’t himself without you,” she explained.

Her cheeks warmed and she swallowed thickly. “It made sense in my head,” she whispered. “I swear.”

Eleanor looked at her sympathetically, a smile that was warm but full of empathy filled her pretty face and she was overcome with how much she missed her friends. If it wasn’t for Addie, there was a good chance she wouldn’t have survived the last three years. “I know. I know you wouldn’t do that without thinking it through,” Eleanor nodded encouragingly. “I just wish you had told us what you were feeling.”

“Yeah, how did you stay off social media like that? I could use a lesson, honestly. All I do is scroll,” Sarah called from in front of them putting a toilet bowl brush into her growing cart.

She was grateful for the kindness her friends shared. “Thank you,” she smiled at Eleanor and then turned to Sarah. “Both of you.”

The pair of them smiled back. “Anything for you, babe,” Sarah assured her.

*

They returned with the items needed and the boys were waiting, ready to take more bags and boxes than she thought the girls could fit in Sarah’s car with the three of them already inside it. They were like an assembly line of grabbing items and bringing them to her apartment. When everyone else was ahead of her, she grabbed the air mattress box. It was heavy and large enough to make it awkward to carry and Harry frowned watching her struggle to lock her car as she tried to balance it on her hip. All while he carried nothing more than a box of pots and pans that weighed probably a fraction as much.

“Swap with me,” he ordered and placed it on the trunk of Sarah’s car.

“Oh... no, it’s alright. It’s heavy and you’ve already worked and—”

He ignored her, pulling it from her grip as she protested, and he marched toward her building. With a sigh, she grabbed the pots and pans, feeling useless and needy again. The elevator signaled the rest were already on their trip up leaving Harry and her in wait for it to descend again. They stood in silence holding their boxes while waiting patiently. “Thank you,” she said again. It felt like a constant in her mouth as the afternoon progressed. “I can’t imagine how tired you must be.”

“M’fine,” he smiled. “Happy t’see you in exchange of m’nap. Also, would’ve gone home t’Mrs. Peterson asking me t’fix her closet door or check her dryer vent.”

She laughed and Harry thought he won the lottery or was struck by lightning. It was the most beautiful sound in the world, and he felt lucky to hear it. The elevator doors opened, and they reverted back to quiet. Her phone vibrated in her pocket; it was a message from Carter.

Addie misses you so much. I don’t think I’ll ever be as good a roommate as you.

“A friend from school?” Harry asked, unable to keep his interest in who messaged her to himself. Harry never saw himself as jealous. But he never had three years of time without her—a whole college career without him by her side. He didn’t know if she had a relationship and quite frankly she was terrified to ask.

“Yeah, umm... his name’s Carter.”

She was replying to his message reminding him where she kept the emergency chocolate for when Addie spiraled. So at first, she didn’t see the way Harry’s jaw flexed so hard she thought he could have cut the sudden tension in the elevator better than the sharpest knife in the world ever could have. His eyes stared straight ahead as the elevator ascended. Her cheeks heated in the small space, feeling mortified that she made Harry feel jealous. God she couldn’t even come home without making him feel bad.

“I met him at my roommate’s dance recital. You would love him,” she whispered because it was the truth. “He started chatting with me all by myself. He calls me gorgeous when he greets me. But the day I met him, I didn’t want to talk. But he was insistent. It’s why I think you’d like him. He inspired a little thing I wrote, I’ll have to let you read it sometime. But anyway... I showed him a picture of my roommate—Addie—and he fell in love with her. Like right there. In the auditorium right as the curtain was opening for her recital. Just her picture, Harry. It was like when Allie saw the picture of Noah in the newspaper in The Notebook. I watched him fall in love with her. I watched it happen,” she smiled at the memory. “He also calls me my favorite matchmaker. He helped us move three times to two different apartments and he never lets me carry heavy grocery bags even though I’m not his girlfriend,” she explained emphasizing that she was not dating Carter. “And he really liked my writing—thinks I’m going to be an instant cult-classic writer. And he was really excited that I decided to come home—even though Addie is being mean to him now, I guess.”

The little story eased the tension in his jaw. She watched it disappear slowly and she wondered if he was going to develop a TMJ dysfunction from how clenched it was for the last few moments. The elevator stopped and he gestured for her to exit first. Before they opened the door where she could hear the rustling of paper bags and the tearing of boxes.

“Where’s the scissors!?” Louis shouted.

“I told you we needed to buy two,” Sarah said grumpily.

“I didn’t know Niall was going to lose them in the first twenty seconds of opening them!” Eleanor protested.

She turned to face Harry, each had a box in front of them, like armor to protect their hearts, whether they knew it or not. She thought about writing that down as soon as she found her new notebook and a pen. The sadness she felt for making him feel jealous still lingered in her. All of the bad choices she made (even though she loved Addie and Carter and wouldn’t have met them without leaving) made her feel terrible on Harry’s behalf. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” she whispered, shame creeping through her body. Without another word, she turned inside before she could say anything else.

Harry stood in front of the open door, noise and chaos ensuing just five feet from him, he worried she was going to get a noise complaint because of the lot of them. He entered the apartment after a few more seconds of silence on his part and even though the apartment wasn’t all that big, he found her instinctively, dropping the box he held onto the counter. He grabbed her wrist like he had a thousand times before, it made her heart flip and flutter like an acrobat in the circus. Without a care of his friends shouting and creating more commotion he leaned in close, so his lips were so close to her ear, she almost closed her eyes to savor the feel of the moment. It wasn’t even that intimate, but it felt like it was.

“I would like t’take you out t’dinner, kitten,” his voice was low and almost gravelly. It warmed her skin and body like nothing she had ever felt before—except she had. Because he always made her feel like this. Ever since they were young, and she knew they were soulmates—even if he didn’t believe in them.

Silently she nodded, meeting his gaze again and smiling. His soft, answering smile was so beautiful she wanted to scream. Thank God she was home.

She excused herself to her bedroom after that, closed the door, where she slid the notebook from one of the bags, found a pen in her purse and drew a heart on the inside cover, listed two names inside it as she always did.

On the first page she scribbled down some notes about how home wasn’t a place, a town, or a building at all.

It was green eyes and a kind smile that made her feel whole.

*

They hadn’t made it to dinner yet. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Her moving in, especially without all her stuff, took a tremendous effort and amount of time. It took a ton of phone calls to stay on top of it and make sure it didn’t get lost along the way because its destination wasn’t meant for a cross-country road trip or any of the stops along the way back to her. In addition to that, she found a job at one of their local restaurants—Niall was happy to call in a favor to the owner who knew his mum so well, so she began working so much. Mainly because she worried about her savings being dipped into because of the move and missing items.

She also had to visit her own mum now that she was closer to her again. Meanwhile, Harry was still on the schedule to work overtime and all his regular hours as well—at least through the cycle of the schedule he was currently on.

So, two and a half weeks had passed since she moved back. Other than the first day they helped move her in, there had only been a handful of sightings. A few of them visited her while she worked, happy to report back to Harry (even though he insisted it was unnecessary but was nonetheless grateful for their intrusion) she was still in town. When he drove past her apartment building (because he was creepy now and scared beyond belief she would be gone in the middle of the night) and saw her storage pod with her mum’s furniture had been removed he felt a ripple of anxiety course through him. It was only alleviated when he saw her car still parked in the same spot that he relaxed. Their group of friends invited her to their weekly summer bonfire but the first week Harry had to work and the second week she had to work.

There was no time for a dinner date to rekindle the love that never left nor ask questions that Harry needed answered.

By then, everyone outside their circle of friends had heard she was home. People eyed Harry like he was a whole new person. “Ran into her,” Gemma smiled excitedly. “She looks beautiful, college was kind to her.”

Harry nodded, the pair of them in his backyard while his mum was inside cooking for them. They insisted on helping but naturally Gemma told him he was grating cheese the wrong way which resulted in a bickering mess of cheese on Harry’s floor and his mum ushering her grown children outside so she could cook in peace.

They were lying in the grass and Harry sighed feeling like the air had been bogged down with pollutants he didn’t even notice for three years because the air was clean now. “Nearly cried on the elevator when she talked ‘bout her friend Carter. Guess he’s dating her college roommate,” he explained. “He called her gorgeous and I thought I was going t’throw up, Gem,” he rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed. “M’crazy, aren’t I?”

“No more than usual,” Gem smiled. “I told you she’d be back.” Part of Harry doubted Gemma. It was small, but gnawed at him late at night when he missed her most and thought about how nice it would be to have her to snuggle with in his bed. It had been ages since he held her like that. They only had a small number of sleepovers at their age. They were very much still under the watchful eye of their parents at that time. He cherished those memories and often looked at the twinkling stars when he thought about how she would feel in his bed when he couldn’t sleep.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled back. “You were right,” he sighed with relief.

“She’s scared Mum is going to hate her.”

Harry rolled his eyes; irritation of the slightest bit filled his body. “Of course she is,” he huffed out another exhausted sigh.

“I told her that was ridiculous.”

Harry didn’t tell Gemma about the dinner date he was waiting for (again) because she already knew. “M’hoping she’ll tell me why.”

“I think we’re all hoping that, Harry,” she reached for his hand and squeezed it. “M’sure if you ask she’ll tell you.”

“Gemma, I hugged her, and I think it cured me,” he swallowed. The way her body fit into the frame of his like they never stopped hugging was so incredible. Gemma smiled fondly at her little brother and nodded. She was certain he was telling the truth. Gemma believed they were made for each other just as much as the rest of everyone else believed. “M’afraid that if I kiss her, I might propose on the spot.”

“Over my dead body,” Gemma laughed. “Mum and I would kill you for not letting us be there,” so Harry couldn’t do anything else but laugh along with her.

*

They were approaching week three and other than run ins as a group and waves as their lives quietly skipped past one another through no fault of their own. But finally, he ran into her at the grocery store. She was in the checkout line waiting and Harry was just grabbing a cart to fill for the week.

“Hey, kitten,” he smiled. She had a basket on her arm that looked like the handles were digging into her skin and he wanted to take it from her but instead she placed it at her feet and smiled back so sweetly as they began chatting.

“Finished with your shift?” She asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. M’gonna go home and take a nap. But m’low on a lot of food.”

“If I were you, I would have bought something to go and went and took that nap.”

“Well, then I wouldn’t have run into you,” he reminded her with a smile that took over his lips before he could stop it. It wasn’t meant to be cute or sweet, but it was anyway. It made her cheeks turn pink and it did feel like fate—even though if this were three years ago, she wouldn’t have even noticed she had run into Harry by chance. It would have seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

“That’s true,” she bit the inside of her lip.

“How ‘bout you? Working tonight?” He asked.

She shook her head. “You can go ahead of me,” she said to the woman waiting behind her who smiled kindly in return. “No... I did a double yesterday and I’m awfully tired myself. A nap sounds like the right idea,” she grinned knowingly.

Harry couldn’t help it. The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he thought it was now or never because they had been doing some kind of dance that he was certain she would write about. Ships passing in the night and all that. Just missing one another and their free time so he had to ask right then. “Are y’free tonight?” He asked. “Other than napping?” He amended with a tired smile. “For that dinner?” He reminded her.

“Yes,” she nodded quickly, immediately. A relieved sigh fell from his mouth, and he thought it was the best news in the world. Maybe even better than the news she was home. Even though he was there in person to see that for himself. She giggled slightly at his relief. Not because it was funny, but because she was relieved too.

“I’ll pick y’up at six.”

*

She was bubbling with excitement as she left the grocery store. Her heart in her throat and she headed to the coffee shop because if she was going to skip her nap to get ready for her date with her ex-boyfriend but also the very same man she’d been in love with since she understood the emotion, then she was going to need caffeine. And back up. A text to Eleanor and Sarah telling them it was date night set them into motion.

“Hey Lo,” she smiled downright gleefully. A date with Harry. It felt like the very first one. “Can I have my usual?” She asked.

Lauren nodded eagerly, a smile on her lips. Her kind friend chatted with her, asking how her day was going, how her studies were and the like. It was unbelievably nice to have her back in town. It had eaten away at Lauren for what she had insinuated. Keeping it a secret from her friend group was abhorrent. She knew it was and so the fact she was home was a good thing.

She was happy to have her friend back. Even though she knew it was her fault she left in the first place. “Harry and I are going to dinner,” she was smiling the way she used to when Harry texted her asking if they needed anything for their study time.

Just like that a switch went off in the pit of her stomach. The envy she felt was atrocious and she wanted to stop it but it was growing like it had the day she had told her Harry deserved more. “Like a date?” She asked in surprise.

She nodded. “I know. It’s...kinda crazy right?”

“Yeah... yeah it is. I’m surprised... he uh...” Lauren swallowed begging her mouth not to say anything worse than what she had suggested three years prior. She had already lost her friend, she knew it. It was a miracle she was home. She didn’t deserve the heartache at the hands of her jealousy. But the green little monster was vicious. “He doesn’t usually go on dates during the week,” she murmured, putting her drink on the counter. It was horrible, watching the bubbly bright smile fall off her face. Literally slid from her lips to the floor in seconds. Lauren turned to the customer that was next in line. “I’m sure it’s fine,” she said as she made the next drink. “It’ll be a nice date.”

But just like before, she knew she planted a seed of doubt as she left the coffee shop.

*

Eleanor and Sarah were already at her apartment when she got there. They had clothing options that they had scrounged together as well as a plethora of makeup pallets that she didn’t have since most of her stuff was still a day or two out. “At least my stuff will be here soon.”

“I cannot wait to see your shoes,” Sarah sighed dreamily. “You always had the best shoe collection.”

“Do you still have your curling iron?” Eleanor asked. “That thing was the most amazing hair styling tool known to man and I don’t know how I have lived without you and it all these years.”

She giggled, grateful for the distraction from her conversation with Lauren. Because honestly, if they hadn’t already been there, she might have cancelled on Harry and thought about moving back with Addie and Carter. Thinking of Addie made her miss her. “Do you guys mind if I FaceTime Addie? She’ll want to know I’m going on this date.”

“Of course not! We’ll need her opinion too,” Eleanor assured her.

So she rang Addie who picked up on the second ring and was immediately squealing with excitement. “I told you he wouldn’t have moved on!” She shouted.

“Holy shit, did you think he moved on?!” Sarah asked.

“Well... I mean... it was three years.”

Sarah and Eleanor exchanged a look of disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”

“I told you,” Addie quipped again. Eleanor was putting eyeshadow on her and her reflection in the mirror suggested she wouldn’t need any of the three cream blushes that Eleanor had laid on the counter. She glared at Addie on her cell phone screen.

“Well...I don’t know. I just figured...”

“Hi Addie,” Carter said. “Wow, aren’t you all dolled up, Gorgeous,” he winked at the screen. Nice to see you.”

“Oh no wonder Harry was jealous of him,” Eleanor whispered delightedly.

“Shut up, he was not,” she gasped.

Addie giggled, pecked Carter’s warm cheek. “Nice to meet you ladies,” he said to Sarah and Eleanor. “Heard tons about you. I’m gonna start dinner, love,” he kissed the top of Addie’s head. “Can’t wait to see the finished product, Gorgeous,” he winked at her again as he left their view.

It was great for her aching heart that her two little families liked each other so quickly. She wanted to ask Eleanor and Sarah about what Lauren had said about him dating but she was scared to know the answer. But if she didn’t know, then it would probably ruin the date. “How... how often does Harry go on dates?” She asked.

“None,” Addie was the one that answered with a shake of her head.

Eleanor snorted. “She’s right,” Sarah nodded. “Harry has been on zero dates. Unless you count Mrs. Peterson needing him all the time to fix something at her house. Then about a thousand, I’d say,” she smiled.

“None?” She asked. “I...” she swallowed. “I thought I heard someone say...he was dating.”

“Who the fuck said that?” Eleanor looked at her in the mirror in absolute shock.

“Oh I just...” she should have told them. They would be able to assuage her worries immediately. “People talk about me pretty loudly; with Harry being a town staple now,” she shrugged. “They think I’m deaf or something,” she explained quietly.

“Harry hasn’t dated anyone,” Sarah stated matter of fact, no room for argument.

“I told you so,” Addie sang through the phone. Eleanor and Sarah smiled sweetly at their new friend within a cellphone screen. “You left your picture here,” Addie said and moved to the kitchen.

“What picture?” Sarah asked.

“Addie...maybe don’t make me look insane?” She suggested and wished she could cover her face with her hands but didn’t want to ruin the makeup.

But Addie was already showing them the picture of her and Harry from their days in school when they first got together. “You had that on the fridge?” Eleanor looked at her with astonishment.

“Yeah, literally from the moment we moved in,” Addie reminded her.

“Harry has the same one on his fridge,” Sarah explained.

“Same what?”

Her head snapped up to the mirror reflection and saw Harry’s frame hovering near the doorway. “Holy shit, sweetie, he’s even hotter in person,” Addie was already swooning.

“Addison!” Carter called from behind the screen.

Harry chuckled, his cheeks the slightest shade pinker. “Hi Addie.”

“Harry,” she smiled unabashedly, unaffected by her compliment. “I can see why she said she would spend thousands of dollars on your calendar.”

He snorted and caught her gaze in the reflection again. He squinted, the screen that showed the picture of the pair of them on the fridge miles and miles away. “That’s on your fridge?” He asked.

“Every morning I stare at it while I drink orange juice from the carton.”

“I told you it was her, Carter,” she said knowingly.

“How did you get in?” Sarah asked.

“Door was unlocked. I heard you guys squealing, so I figured I’d see what you were all up to. Also it’s five fifty five and I said I would be here at six.”

“So punctual,” Addie smiled brightly.

“Well, she’s all set,” Eleanor tapped her shoulder. “Just need to swap out this cute comfy look with a dress.”

“How fancy is the place we’re going?” She frowned.

“It’s not,” he assured her. “You could go like that, honestly. You would still be prettier than everyone else.”

“That’s notebook worthy for sure,” Addie murmured.

“Addison,” this time it wasn’t Carter that said it.

“Have fun, sweetie. Nice meeting you all.”

“Bye Gorgeous!” Carter called as Addie gave a wave and hung up.

Eleanor and Sarah ushered Harry out of the bathroom and she changed quietly. Immediately calling Addie back and pressing the phone to her ear. “Lauren said he’s dating,” she whispered so quietly Addie could barely hear her.

“Lauren can go eat dirt. She’s probably jealous. He asked you on a date.”

She sighed. “This is a horrible idea.”

“No,” Addie was serious, shaking her head even though she couldn’t see. “It’s a wonderful idea. He’s your soulmate who has waited three years for this date. Let him have it,” she whispered. “You deserve this, sweetie. You love him. You just need to jump,” she assured her.

She took a deep breath and looked away from the mirror. “Okay,” she whispered to Addie. “I’ll jump.”

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

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@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

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@angeldavis777

most: @harryspirate

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[rheiple]

Attention Seeker

-OneShot

▪︎SUMMARY↦ Why is he following and helping you around with every chance he gets?

▪︎WARNING/s↦ None

▪︎CHARACTER/s↦ Eclipse, Reader

▪︎AUTHOR'S NOTE↦ Gago ang tagal ko nang hindi nagsusulat,, well anyways this the Eclipse wanting reader's attention, the first thing I needed to do at the poll.

I'm not really satisfied with the out come, but I wanted to post it not instead of letting it rot in my notes, and also I might not do the other fics I've planned at the poll, if i did write them then its gonna be for a long time

I've noticed that whenever i write, when I'm passionate about something I noticed that my writing looks good(?)

But when I force myself to write its basically shit, and this Fic is probably one of the few sjit fics I've written

So yea I hope you don't mind

“…It’s really dark in here.. Mind if you shine your eye lights over here bud?”

The sound of metal clinking represents the movement of your very tall and lanky companion.  With it’s big bright eyes, you’re able to be see the injured Helpy trying to move it’s way towards a vent.

Here in the storage room, it’s very hard to move and see with how many piled stuff are stored in this small room. You’re surprised that He managed to cramp himself inside here.

Eclipse, your ‘new' friend has been tagging along with you ever since your shift has started.

You don’t really know why- or maybe you do. Perhaps it’s because he’s still new with his surroundings in this Pizza Plex. Couldn’t really blame him, and it’s not like you mind his company anyways. You just found it a little strange.. and maybe cute.

You went to carry the small bear in your arms, you heard a little hiss coming from the taller one. You eyed him as you put Helpy on a table.

Noticing you making eye contact with him, he grinned from ear to ear, he lets out a creepy glitchy giggle. It’s like he’s drunk on something.

Honestly though, you want to have a taste with whatever he’s drunk with. It’d be a good stress reliever for at the moment. But oh well, no matter, you have at least 30 minutes until it’s your break time. You could pull this through.

Just like what you keep saying to yourself for the previous days.

Holding the hammer up high, you gave Helpy a little warning. Knowing he’s been given the ability to feel pain and all. It’s creepy and sad knowing this bot's cursed ability is used to train newbies. You also wondered how on earth are they able to program that.

“All right Helpy, I’m not gonna sugarcoat this and tell you it’s gonna hurt just a little. It’s actually gonna hurt really bad but I need you to be brave for me ok?”

He's shaking, but he nodded his head.

“…Ok, on the count of one… two…”

You aimed the hammer a little close to his knee.

“And…Three-"

Eclipse hold the back of the hammer.

“Wha- Eclipse? What’s wrong?”

He gently took the hammer out of your hand. His other hand softly patting your head.

And immediately slammed it on baby bear bear's knee.

“OH MY GOD!”

While Helpy screamed because of the sudden pain, you screamed in fright because of how loud and painful Helpy's scream is. Eclipse took care of the situation by putting some kind of mask that emits special smoke to calm him down, and put a bandaid on his knee.

His other hand went to give him a lollipop.

You only looked at him flabbergasted. And he only smiled at you.

“Work is over.. Break now..”

One of his hands took yours and led you to the cafeteria.

.

.

.

Well this is humiliating.

You ignore the stares of your co-workers, glaring at them if they ever so much as chuckled at your current predicament.

He held the spoon filled with fried rice and chicken, the lunch you packed for yourself and tried to feed you. He’s making you look like a baby god dammit! You glared right up at him and gently smacked away the spoon. “Eclipse, you’re kinda making me look like a fool here…”

The celestial robotic tilted its head, he slowly brought back the spoon close to your mouth. His other hand  holding your chin, trying to pry your mouth open. “…ahh”

You took a grip on his hand and lowered it down where he couldn’t reach your chin once again. He didn’t seem to mind, as he gladly took your hand and intertwined it with his slim fingers instead. He began to rub your hand with his thumb as best as he could.

With a sigh, you took the spoon and placed it on your lunch box. You look at Eclipse and hold his other hand. His rays slowly started moving at the initiated contact. “Look man..” You start off, letting out your thoughts and feelings was really hard for you. You’ve never thought you’d even do it to someone like Eclipse, considering he probably doesn’t know the most of what your saying unless you explained it but.. At least he had sympathy, you wouldn’t be able to find that in most people nowadays. That’s probably why you feel safe sharing your thoughts and feelings to him.

“Eclipse…You know I really really appreciate you helping me around stuff n all but. I kind of feel like you’re just… Babying me at this point.”

He emits a low mechanical whine, you could feel the slight tightness of his hands. “…Not intentional.. wanted to help you… get work done…”

“Awwe, thanks buddy.” You gently squeezed his hands and did the same thing Eclipse did with your hand earlier. “…But are you sure that’s the only reason? I noticed that.. You’ve been a little passive aggressive with the other bots.. Whenever I focus on them instead of you.”

With your confrontation, he looks to the side and whistled out some playful toons.

You confirmed that being rough with Helpy earlier was intentional on his part.

You let go of his hands to put yours on your hips. Giving him the all knowing stare, you called to him in a accusing manner. He only grinned widely at the mention of his name. You guessed that scaring a robot wouldn’t really work considering with looks alone, he’s the scary one than you.

“…Are you jealous?”

“…no..”

“You’re lying.”

“Not lying… only fibbing.”

You scratched your head and raised a brow. “But why? Why are you jealous?”

The tall robot leaned in to hug you. You went to sit on his lap. His faceplate rotated from left to right. “…love your eyes. Better on me.. than on them..”

You snickered and brought a hand up to your face. “Oh my god.. you wanted my attention?” You  seem to get the memo as he purred in delight at your question. “..Oh Eclipse.”

You pry yourself off to stand and look at him, cupping his face with your small hands. As expected he leaned in to your touch. “You didn’t have to go through all that way just to get my attention you know that?” Seriously, he really shouldn’t have.

He caused hell to the other bots, he’s scary when he’s jealous.

“If you wanted my attention, you could’ve just asked! You know I wouldn’t say no..”

He took a hold of your hand with his, and looked at you with bright purple eyes.

“May I… have your eyes on me?” You grinned and kissed his teeth. “Of course..”

He began to stand up, surprising you by picking you up. You didn’t know where your going, but you assumed in one of the dark places where no one could find you. You’re glad you play a vital role at your job, or else you would’ve been fired with the amount of time you’ve went missing during your working hours.

You didn’t noticed, but Eclipse surely did, of a certain robot hanging from the ceiling observing him with envy.

The moon themed animatronic crossed his arms. “…So this is what our star has been wasting their time on..”

‘No fair, no fair! Why spend time with a bootleg version of us?!'

It’s as if Eclipse heard their thoughts, one of his hands gave them the rude gesture from behind.

Moon clicked his tongue. “So…that’s how you want to play…”

He’s been playing unfair for the past few days! Always sabotaging their plans so he could have you in his arms! They tried so, so many times to get your attention. Like making so many messes in the Daycare for you to help them clean it, they made gifts so they could see your flustered face, and they even broke themselves for you to fix them.

Not only did the metal prick cleaned the Daycare, fixed them instead of you- which they much rather prefer,  he stole their gifts, lying to you that he was the one who made it instead of them! He is such a big fat liar! A phoney!!

He could imagine his Sunny counter part walking around and huffing in annoyance. ‘Oh the nerve of him to do that! When I get my hands on our star once again he’ll be begging us to let him see her! And even then it’d be over my shut downed body if he ever thought I’d agree!'

The lunar jester is pretty sure the Eclipse would just control their minds to scrap themselves up, before they could even think of hiding away their star.. As much as he wanted to, he and Sun knew it’d just make you sad if you found out they’re not on good terms.

So they’re the ones who tried to give them the time he needed with you but, they’re just abusing their kindness at this point. They need to hatch up a plan to have you back in their arms sooner of later.

The moon slowly backed away by crawling. “…Hoping to see that soon…” He went back to his patrols for now.

[saratinz]

Fine China

pairing ➩ Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha x Sam (Modern AU)

warnings ➩ depression, addiction, alcohol, pills, angst, sad ending, cheating

synopsis ➩ Based off 'Fine China' by Lana Del Rey

word count ➩ 1.9k

You stare at the white dress you once loved so dearly. “Yeah, of course you can have it, Natasha.” 

“I’m so sorry this happened to you again. I know what I’m asking is insensitive, but this, it really means a lot.” 

“It’s okay, Nat. You’re going to look stunning. I’ve been left on my wedding day, twice, think I have a problem, and until I figure that out, I can’t be anywhere near this shit.”

“Thank you so much. God I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m so happy for you.” 

“I know this is asking a lot, but will you be my maid of honor?”

“I’d love to.” You put on your best fake smile. But as soon as she leaves, you slide down your wall, screaming to numb the pain you’ve been through in 

Four years ago

I wore diamonds for the birth of your baby

For the birth of your son

Steve Rogers always wanted a child, just his fatherly nature I guess. His ex-wife, Margaret, has always been a third in your relationship. You get the call while getting your makeup and hair done, quickly getting off your chair to drive to the hospital. You were shocked that this baby is coming out, considering it a month before his due date. Peggy manages to look gorgeous even while going through one of the most painful things known to man. “Hey sweetheart, can we talk in private for a second?” Steve pulls you into the hall.

“Oh, of course.” 

On the same day, my husband-to-be

Packed his things to run

“I’m so sorry , Y/n, my family is the most important thing to me right now.”

“I thought I was your family.”

“I love them.”

“I know that but do you really, y’know, love her that way?”

“I do.”

“You were supposed to say that to me.” You half-heartedly chuckle.

“Can you not joke right now.”

“Fuck you Steve. I gave up everything for you, I listened to you, I stayed with you after you cheated on me and impregnated Peggy, I was even gonna raise a child with you at 25.”

Was bittersweet to say the least

One life begins, one comes undone

You drive away from the hospital, speeding home to drink copious amounts of alcohol.

I've always been a strong woman of faith

Strong like a tree, but the unlucky one

You haven’t cried in years. When you went through your first break-up, you vowed never to cry over a boy again. And you didn’t. But right now, in this situation, you figure that it constitutes a few tears.

I'm going down now

With all of my

You feel broken. After suppressing every painful event in your life for nine years, you finally express your emotions. It’s a rough night, and all you could do was cry until you couldn’t anymore.

Fine china and fresh linen

All of my dresses with them tags still on them

You get a storage unit, and keep everything from your wedding that never happened, hoping that one day, you would get to use it for real.

Fine china and dull silver

My white horses and my ivory almonds

“You’re a beautiful girl, sure you want to mess with this stuff.”

“Give me the goddamn pills, Luke.”

I guess they really got the best of us, didn't they?

They said that love was enough, but it wasn’t

You think of the time you almost broke up with Steve. It was when Peggy found out she was pregnant, but the two of you had been together for a year, meaning that he cheated without a doubt. Your friends tried to help, but the best they could muster was a question. “Do you love him?”

“I do, yeah.”

“Then maybe that’s your answer.”

The Earth shattered, the sky opened 

The rain was fire, but we were wooden

All hell broke loose, as all of your friends found out Steve left you. Some of them were understanding, some of them dropped him immediately. One of those being Bucky Barnes, who was the only person who didn’t talk to you like you could break at any moment. And over the next year, you fell in love, the next year you got engaged. And now, three years after Steve broke your heart, you find yourself getting ready to be wed. You can’t believe you’re finally going to live your dream. 

I wore diamonds for the day of our wedding

For our day in the sun

You felt beautiful in your dress. “Y/n . We need to talk.”

“Buck, you’re not supposed to see me, it’s like, bad luck or whatever.” You let out a little laugh. You were never the superstitious type.

On the same day, my mother-to-be said she wouldn't come

“My mom, she’s not coming.”

“Oh god, is she sick or something. It would be a little tricky, but we could figure out rescheduling.”

“No, she’s just refusing to come.”

“I thought your mom liked me. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s not you, it’s just, I told her about your little pill problem.”

“What are you talking about”

“Don’t play dumb, I know you’re not on anti-depressants like you say. I may not be a doctor but I have Google.”

It's always been that way with me

No time for change, no time for fun

“Okay I’m sorry for lying, but what gave you the right to rifle through my stuff, and then talk to your mom  instead of me about it?”

“I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what? Wait, you’re not talking about, no, what the fuck James? No, this, it can’t be happening again.”

It's always been that way, it seems

One love begins, one comes undone

“I’m so sorry, Y/n, I can’t do this anymore.  I can’t sit back and watch as you kill yourself.”

“Oh my god, so you’re leaving me because I like to relax.”

“It’s not just pills you’re addicted to, you’re addicted to me.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re like a leach, sucking the life force out of me. You’re never satisfied.”

“I didn’t want you to leave like Steve did.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I do.”

“I’m never gonna hear you say those words, am I?”

“I don’t know, Y/n, maybe one day.”

I'm going down now

With all of my

“So, I’ll do whatever I have to, I wanna be with you, I’ll get help. I’ll go to therapy, I’ll do whatever it takes, just please. Please.”

“I love you, Y/n, I always will.”

Fine china and fresh linen

All of my dresses with them tags still on them

Back to your storage unit, everything goes. You really thought this was it. You’re a fucking idiot.

Fine china and dull silver

My white horses and my ivory almonds

You try to get clean, and you manage to stay that way for three months. But one day, when you couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky and your sponsor was on vacation, you take a little trip to your favorite dealer. “Hey, haven’t seen you in awhile. You getting sober or something?”

“Went to rehab, stayed off drugs for a guy. I’m just gonna ruin my chance with him, I guess.”

“You sure you wanna do that?”

“Fuck him, I need to think about me.”

I guess they really got the best of us, didn't they?

They said that love was enough, but it wasn’t

“I’m using again Bucky, and I’m not gonna stop.”

“Please don’t do this.”

The Earth shattered, the sky opened

The rain was fire, but we were wooden

“I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, me too.”

Present day

All of my, all of my fine china

After five drinks and two pills, you get up on the little stage area that was set up.

All of my, all of my fine china

“Hey guys, as the maid of honor, I would like to say congratulations to my best friend and her wonderful new husband, Sam. But oh my god, if I hear anyone compliment the table cloth, dishes, decor, or god forbid the dress, I’m going to scream.”

All of my, all of my fine china

“Funny story actually, this was all supposed to be for my wedding. Bucky, where are you? Oh there he is. Handsome, right? Kind of an asshole but if you’re looking for a hook up, I highly recommend. He’s my ex who left me on our wedding day, so, yikes.”

Blue, ah, blue

“She stole my whole wedding. Hell she even stole the lingerie I was planning on wearing for my wedding night. So none of this planning is hers is what I’m trying to say. Guess I could be a fucking wedding planner or something. Ha, wouldn’t that be ironic, the girl who can’t seem to get married helping other people live her dream.”

All of my, all of my fine china

Natasha looks furious. But she didn’t want to stop you. She had done something pretty fucked up too, and even though you said you were okay, she knew you. She knew the pain you were going through. Not from experience though, only listening. She could never fully comprehend the damage done.

All of my, all of my fine china

You continue to embarrass yourself, but you’re too cross-faded to care.

Blue, ah

“Is anyone else still thinking about how weird it is that she’s wearing my underwear? I mean, I never wore them but it still seems a bit strange. Here’s a little secret, that’s her something blue.”

Fine china and fresh linen

All of my dresses with them tags still on them

The next morning, you wake with the worst hangover of your life. Oh shit, you ruined Nat’s wedding. As if things couldn’t get any worse, you’re not even in your apartment. Where the fuck are you?

Fine china and dull silver

My white horses and my ivory almonds

“Hey sleepyhead.” 

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“What the fuck happened last night?”

“You don’t remember? We had sex.”

“Oh god, what about Peggy?”

“She’s a bitch, I never should have left you.”

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”

“What’s wrong baby?”

“You’re a terrible person. I need to go.” You scurry out of that hell-scape, cursing your drunk self.

I guess they really got the best of us, didn't they?

They said that love was enough, but it wasn’t

“I’d like to check into rehab again.” 

“That’s good Y/n.”

“I have one question, though.”

“What is it?”

“You were never gonna get back together with me, right? I mean it was pretty good incentive, but you were never serious.”

“No, we still have a chance.”

“Cut the shit Bucky. You don’t have to lie to me, just stop playing with my emotions.”

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Goodbye James.”

The Earth shattered, the sky opened

The rain was fire, but we were wooden

“Here you go. Everything you asked for is there.” Nat gives you boxes upon boxes of your wedding stuff back. 

Fine china, fine china, fine china

You break every plate, cup, and bowl.

Fresh linen, fresh linen, fresh linen

You burn every table cloth, napkin, and the dress you now hate with your whole heart.

Maybe one day you’ll get married, but you needed this stuff gone, and you needed to never think about it again. So far all you’ve gotten out of your engagements was depression, addiction, and some shards of fine china.

Masterlist / Spinoff series

[ivory-lamps]

A14: Imposing Happiness on Others

Characters: Nagi Location: Hama Summary: Nagi leaves the movie part-way through and starts working at his store. The protagonist chases after Nagi, and he tells them about his special physical constitution. Proofreader: Shay

Sonia: Nagi-san, these are all the flowers we can use!

Nagi: …This is bad. It’s not enough.

Sonia: You’ll just be putting me in a tough spot if you suddenly ask me to do all this straight after returning from HAMA House!

Nagi: Sorry. In the meantime, can you bring me all the flowers we have in the storage room?

Sonia: Aye, aye, sir! I’ll bring everything over~!

*Customer walks in*

Customer A: Sorry for interrupting but…

Nagi: Oh, uh, how can I help you?

Customer A: There’s something I wanna ask. Can I use IzuPay here?

Nagi: IzuPay… Oh, not at the moment. We’re planning on getting the machine for it, but it might take a while… sorry.

Customer B: Oh… I see. Well, it’s a local payment method limited to specific wards, so I guess it can’t be helped.

Nagi: You’ll have to either use cash or another cashless payment method.

Customer A: Huh? Cash? I didn’t know there were still places that took cash.

I thought they went under just like how the protagonist chanted “Palus!” in the Valley of the Sky.

Customer B: Hey… that’s not very nice. They haven’t gone under, and that scene just finished playing on TV. Sorry about him.

Nagi: …It’s fine.

(I see. So the movie has already ended, huh.)

(...What am I thinking?)

(There’s no way… I’d be able to stay until the end. I shiver just from the thought of it. I feel bad for Toi but I needed to leave at a good time for everyone’s sake…)

Sonia: The flowers are ready!

Nagi: Thanks. Let’s go. Immediately.

*Doorbell jingles*

??: Um, excuse me.

Nagi: Oh, welcom–

Momiji / Kaede: Good evening. …It’s been a while. Or not, since we just saw each other.

Nagi: ……

Momiji / Kaede: Can we chat for a bit, Nagi-kun?

Momiji / Kaede: ……

(I never would’ve thought Nagi-kun would leave HAMA House in the middle of the movie… That has to mean he felt super awkward being there, right?)

(I figured he would fit in with the others in due time… but I guess I was overly optimistic…)

Nagi: ……

(I didn’t think they’d notice my disappearance… Which means leaving like that might’ve been a bad idea. They might be angry…)

(Wait, maybe they’re just here to check up on me. They might be worried I’m sticking out like a sore thumb because it’s obvious that I’m socially awkward…)

(Either way, the manager is trying to look out for me. …I might even be more worthless than aphids. They’re at least helpful since they can kill weeds.)

(Someone who’s worth less than an aphid would… never be a good choice for a ward mayor.)

(I accepted the job so I intend on seeing it to the end. …But…)

Momiji / Kaede: …Um, I heard this from Yodaka-san.

Nagi: Yes?

Momiji / Kaede: Nagi-kun, apparently, you’ve never slept at HAMA House?

Nagi: ……

(The cat’s out of the bag, huh. I guess nothing gets past him.)

Momiji / Kaede: ……

(Oh, Nagi-kun’s expression stiffened…)

(Maybe I should’ve asked gently in a roundabout way instead.)

(If he has any suggestions or requests, I’d love to hear them out, but it’s possible that he never wanted to be a ward mayor in the first place… Hmm… how should I word my thoughts?)

Nagi: ……

(They look concerned. …I feel bad that they’re worrying about me.)

(I feel awkward but I need to give them a proper explanation. I know. But I bet they’ll think I’m a weirdo if I tell them everything.)

(But if I don’t say anything, then I’ll end up hurting them instead. What should I do…?)

(...Just then, the cyclamen in front of the store suddenly caught my eye. In the language of flowers, it means “resignation” and “words of goodbye”...)

(Next to them are anemones, which mean “abandoned”. And the marigolds next to them mean… “sadness from farewells”.)

(I see. …I understand now.)

Momiji / Kaede: Umm…

Nagi: (I’ve… made up my mind.)

……

…I need to hand out flowers to keep it balanced.

Momiji / Kaede: Huh?

Nagi: Like a scale.

Momiji / Kaede: What?

Nagi: This is just my opinion.

Momiji / Kaede: O–Okay?

Nagi: If one side of the scale is filled with a large amount of happiness or misfortune, it’ll naturally balance itself out at a fixed point in time – just like human emotions would. That’s the conclusion I’ve reached.

Momiji / Kaede: A–Alright?

Nagi: In my case, it seems every time I experience something happy, misfortune is bound to happen immediately after.

It happened when I got caught in the bee trap the other day. I was lucky and got two free tissue sets from the shopping district lottery the day before.

I call this phenomenon “The Weal and Woe Scale Theory”.

Momiji / Kaede: I–I see. I’ve heard of people saying that misfortune doesn’t last and that good things always happen after something bad, but… is it something like that?

Nagi: …Are you a genius? I even gave it a weird name – how embarrassing. I’ll use your explanation next time.

Momiji / Kaede: No no, I understood what you meant by scale.

Nagi: …To keep the scale balanced, I first need to avoid places where I might accidentally experience happiness.

Eating a single piece of cake is also out of the question. I don’t deserve those feelings of kindness and happiness.

Momiji / Kaede: (Does this mean he was really happy about the cake, but he did things like not accepting the cake or leaving the house just so he could avoid the misfortune that would come afterwards…?)

Nagi: But no matter how careful I am, there are times where I can’t control how much happiness accumulates.

This is what I do at times like those.

Momiji / Kaede: A flower…?

Nagi: This is my special ability: Forcing people to take these flowers of happiness.

Momiji / Kaede: …… Hm?

Nagi: If I transfer the accumulated happiness into the flowers and hand them out to people, I can forcibly give the happiness to them. There’s no limit to how many I can hand out. It even turns my shyness into a small debuff.

Momiji / Kaede: (...Oh.)

Momiji / Kaede: (That’s why he was handing out flowers the first time I met him…)

(Honestly, I don’t know how much I can believe him, but at the very least, it doesn’t look like he’s joking.)

I–I see. So if you hand flowers out to people…

Nagi: I can balance out the misfortune.

Momiji / Kaede: You can balance out the misfortune. …… …… I see.

Nagi: (I knew it – they’re really confused.)

Momiji / Kaede: Uh, so you’re saying, if you’re a part of HAMA Tours and live in HAMA House, then…

Nagi: I’ll end up accumulating a happiness debt.

Momiji / Kaede: That’s why you avoided it?

Nagi: Yeah. The…

The amount of happiness that’s produced in that family-like dormitory is immeasurable.

Momiji / Kaede: (Amount of happiness…)

Nagi: If I continued being surrounded by that large amount of happiness… If we ended up holding hands and shouting, “Palus!”, at the end together…

Then it’s possible the entire HAMA House might have crumbled and sunk into the ground…!

Momiji / Kaede: ……

Nagi: (They look flabbergasted. Of course they would be.)

(I’ve lived my life thus far by avoiding others. I knew it would be impossible for me to build a sense of teamwork with the others and live alongside them.)

(They must’ve thought I’m a weirdo. They wouldn’t be able to understand me. That would be the appropriate reaction.)

(I’ll ask them to fire me and I’ll return to my peaceful life – I’ll return to those tranquil days.)

Momiji / Kaede: I understand your situation now.

Nagi: ……

Momiji / Kaede: So could I take all of those flowers?

Nagi: ……

What?

Momiji / Kaede: You’ll be fine as long as someone takes those happiness-filled flowers, won’t you?

But if you’re handing out flowers every day, then you’ll have to go out and find people to take them, so that has to be a lot of work, right?

Nagi: …I… guess? Is that how it works?

Momiji / Kaede: That’s how I see it.

And you have to hand out a lot of flowers, so the purchase fee must rack up, too… right?

Nagi: No, it’s fine. It’s cheaper if I order a lot at once…

Momiji / Kaede: I see. So the issue lies with finding enough people to take the flowers, then. It must be mentally tiring for you to suddenly give flowers to strangers, and they might be confused too.

But I know your situation so I can accept any flowers you give me.

Nagi: …T–That might be true.

But you’re not bothered by this…?

Momiji / Kaede: Nope. I’d never get tired of receiving flowers. I mean, every new chapter in our lives is celebrated with flowers. It’s good luck, too.

Nagi: …………

Here.

Momiji / Kaede: Oh, a flower! Thanks. You’re like a magician, making it appear out of thin air like that.

Nagi: …Before I knew it, flowers were always present in my life. They’re always with me and I can take them out anytime.

Momiji / Kaede: Still, this is a lot! What is it called?

Nagi: It's a Chinese peony.

Momiji / Kaede: I see…! They’re beautiful. And they smell great, too.

Nagi: ……

Here’s the next one.

Momiji / Kaede: This one definitely looks different… What’s this?

Nagi: It’s a blushing bride.

Momiji / Kaede: It’s so cute – the shape is unique. What should I decorate it with?

Nagi: Here.

Momiji / Kaede: This is a lot! It’s turning into a flower bouquet at this point.

Nagi: Here.

Momiji / Kaede: Oh, there’s a big mix of colours…!

Nagi: Here.

Momiji / Kaede: I can’t see the front…! But…

Thanks! Nagi-kun!

Nagi: No, thank you.

Thank you for accepting my happiness, Manager.

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[emilycollins00]

Autumn troupe + SAD!GAD! reader

To one of my lovely besties 💕

Attention: Slight mentions of anxiety and such! Not too much, but just in case wanted to put it here. Good ending tho! <3

Please enjoy! 💕

Okay so! I their reactions to someone with these characteristics does depend of course on who you come in contact with, because all of them have different layers of approaching the situation:

Taichi

Becomes a ball of nerves when you threaten to cry. If you do he might as cry well!!

As time passes, decides to share things about himself with you.

He doesn’t know what you go through and he’s not going to pretend to, but! wants you to know he’s someone you can feel at ease with, at of course he thinks you learning more about him could help. Maybe that way you won’t find him as scary?

Will probably use jokes to diffuse any awkwardness or discomfort during interactions, and will be over the moon if you laugh.

Omi

So, so patient.

Catches on quickly about what might be going on is might become a tad protective.

Definitely eager to help you not feel tense around him and the others -anything to help you, he’s ready to do.

Lets you take the lead and control the pace of your interactions, always with a gentle smile. If he feels you are a bit over the edge, he will give you all the space needed while leaving some sweets on the table <3

Banri

After any answer or comment you say as a response that clearly made you want to be swallowed in a hole, he begins to use open-ended conversation starters, something to make sure you shift your attention to something trivial.

If he notices you need help, often supports you in ways that don't add let’s say pressure. I’m thinking about indirect support like suggesting equipment, resources, or offering assistance from a distance.

Proud when you answer him or the others back, even if it's a short answer.

Tends to remember many things, so if he knows there’s something in particular you need, he’ll be sure to mention it so that you don’t feel awkward in certain silences.

Juza

Your encounters are a bit awkward at first. Juza's is also someone who adapts slowly so your interactions might take a bit to be called, conversations.

He sees the way you react when he and the others arrives so he usually tries to make the least movement and noises.

This is mainly due to him being one of the most understanding when it comes to the situations you experience, already aware of his own presence and the impact it might have.

As such, he tries to avoid the pressure you feel regarding his height and deep voice by not standing too close to you, opting to sit if possible.

Sakyo 

Watches your body language and behaviour from moment one, even though he may not act like it.

Picks up immediately your uneasiness around many of them with the exception of director.

King of respect. Seeing as you prefer not to engage in one-on-one, Sakyo will most likely ask Izumi to delay the information and if not, will leave a note or message.

Azami

Azami isn't the most social person either, he doesn't actively try to engage regularly in conversations. Simple greetings are good for you both.

Will most likely avoid personal questions or just questions that could turn more private, respecting your boundaries.

He knows how it’s like not wanting to share more than needed, so he’s really empathetic about this.

Usually if he needs your help he goes for activities that don’t require constant conversation and that can be done in separate paces.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Here we are. Impressive, right? I even managed to stock it like an inventory!”

You grimace. If the storage could ask for help, you were sure it would be doing so right now. The room felt cramped, stacks of equipment towering over you like a fortress.

Matsukawa goes inside and you follow without much enthusiasm. He has yet to turn to look at you though, engrossed in an unbroken monologue of self-praise, evidently delighted at the chance of showing someone the product of his work.

While carrying your own boxes of equipment, you shift your weight uncomfortable. You wish you could muster the courage to get him to focus. In truth, you would have preferred he left you alone to take a look around but alas, he was the one who supposedly knew where all Mankai’s props were.

Supposedly.

“I-It will be just a minute!” his confidence had quickly dropped after the initial entrance. “I think I might have misplaced the props director asked me to select for you— but they must be here I’m sure!”

You bite your lip as you watch him look inside some more boxes. Izumi had requested your help —being on your way to becoming a property designer and all that— and you had been more than glad for the opportunity, but the current situation felt overwhelming.

“I thought I asked you to rearrange all the upper shelves and throw what wasn’t necessary.”

A sudden, harsh and accusatory voice cuts through the air, freezing both the rustling of boxes and your racing thoughts. Honestly, an incoming bear might have given you less of an internal freak-out — because of course the voice belonged to another man. Just your luck.

You notice the manager flinches and you feel a pang of sympathy for him. You really wouldn't want to be in his skin either. "Sa-Sakyo-san!" the initial disorder in the storage upon your arrival had transformed into an even more distressing sight after he had begun the search for the props.

“I did!" he exclaims, maneuvering to find a path between the piles of boxes. "Just yesterday you could almost see the walls in between the shelves, and let me tell you it has cost me sweat, tears and quite a few scratches!”

There's a pause. You and the blond man scanned the room. If anything had been removed, it didn’t seem like it. As if the room itself tried to make a point, a few objects squeezed too tightly together toppled to the floor.

“I don’t think you are making the point you think you are.”

You hadn’t meant to say that out loud. I mean, you never do. It was supposed to be a muttered remark to yourself— a feeble attempt at humor to conceal yourself from the escalating discomfort. The comment however seems to catch the attention of the scary looking yakuza still standing on the doorframe. He crosses his arms, sighs, and to your luck, focuses on you.

You immediately feel the need to apologize even though you had nothing to do with their problem.

“You must be Y/N.” he says instead, pushing his glasses up and visibly choosing to ignore the chaos in front of you two. “My name is Sakyo, I don't believe we've worked together before. Our director had a last-minute emergency with another troupe and she told me to…"

His lips keep moving but you barely listen to anything afterward. Izumi wasn’t going to be there while you worked? The information hits you like a train. Heck, you might as well have started to cry right there at the idea of being surrounded by men all alone.

"Traitor." you whisper betrayed. Your voice is barely audible, almost lost in the expanse of the hall, but there is a sudden thought that tells you the blond man with glasses might have very well heard you again. So you cough, hiding your initial reaction the best you can and try to recompose yourself. “I, uh, yeah. I came to fix your props.”

Great job, Y/N.

You stood there, lips pursed, nervously nibbling the inside of your cheek, half-expecting a similar reaction to what Matsukawa had received. Instead, the atmosphere shifts almost imperceptibly.

You kind of notice he subtly moves a few steps away from you, though it could also have been your imagination— There was a lot to keep up with. He then speaks again.

“I assume you have your own schedule to keep. I will manage over here. You can go first and set up your equipment. I believe our carpenter has left some tables set on the stage since it’s the place that has the widest space for you to work while getting a signal.”

Stunned, you nod. He offers a small nod in return, giving you directions to get there before addressing the issue at hand with Matsukawa, annoyance flickering once again across his features.

“And you. How many times do I have to tell you that pushing boxes doesn’t equal…”

The scolding echoed as you left the storage.

.

.

.

Mankai's theatre wasn't as big as other theatres you had worked at, so at first, it feels like a cozy haven rather than an intimidating workplace. You soon reach the stage and begin to set up your equipment, beginning to create some props. Surely Izumi would finish before—

“Hello?”

You freeze at the unexpected male noise coming from one of the wings. “Don’t come closer.”

Here we go again.

The young man that had appeared stopped immediately of course. He stood taller than most people, his presence looming over you even from where you were. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in so suddenly.” His relaxed smile did little to ease your tension, especially with his imposing height. After a few seconds of silence on his part, maybe waiting for you to say everything was fine again and he could move again, confusion showed on his face. “…Is everything okay?”

You barely swallowed. Why was your mouth so damn dry? Come on Y/N, say something. “Yeah, um, I’m—  organizing the equipment and stuff is also on the floor so—  it’s messy here.”

Another pause. You whine inwardly and again feel like crying. You watch the actor —at least you think he is an actor— study the situation, and something might have clicked, since he finally nods.

“Of course. I will leave in a bit, my phone just died...” he takes it from his pocket and shows you the black screen, as if to show proof he wasn't lying. “And I was supposed to meet with the others here.”

You nod curtly, and opt to focus on your work. Hopefully he doesn't begin to make up conversation if he sees you concentrated.

Minutes go by and amidst the silence you can't help but steal a glance at him. You notice a distinctive scar etched across his chin, giving him quite the menacing image—  His demeanour however emitted an air of calmness that clashed starkly with the anxiety boiling within you.

"Excuse me. Do you need help with that?" his offer breaks the silence, gesturing toward a set of props in your hands. The tool had been quite fragile, so you had wanted to carry it as securely as possible. Maybe too secure. You had been fighting with it for a few minutes, and Omi seemed to have noticed your struggle.

He offers you a smile when you look his way. “I’m Omi, by the way. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself from the start and entered without warning.”

“Ah, no it’s— ” the fact that he had been so far so attentive makes your cheeks burn. “Um, my name is Y/N, I’m a property designer… if I can properly schedule a meeting with my anxious thoughts before work.” The self-deprecating joke masking your escalating nerves might have been too much. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to say that.”

To your surprise he lets out a soft chuckle. “It's fine, I understand. I’m a part-time photographer so I also get nervous when I have to go alone somewhere for the first time. Especially when I have eyes on me.”

You doubt that was true (weren’t they all actors?) but if he had wanted to calm you —albeit unknowing to him the fact that him being a man was the terrifying part—  you felt it worked a bit. He had managed to get closer to you during the exchange, and you didn’t feel as tense as before.

Today was getting weird.

“Then, would you mind if I try to open it?” he asks again.

It took a while. Or maybe it just seemed like that to you. Omi didn’t make the slightest comment or movement that indicated you were taking way too long though. You walked towards him. You hand trembled slightly as you reached out to him. With a shaky breath, you handed him the prop. Omi’s gaze softened.

"Thank you for coming to give us a hand." his words are gentle, his tone a blend of reassurance and warmth while he places the tool on the table. “Work for this new play has been quite hectic and none of us know much about fixing props so when director said—”

“’s anyone home?”

“We’ve come to help! Director-sensei told us not we didn’t have to, but we thought it would be good to— Oh, Omi-kun you made it!”

“Hello.”

“Sup.”

This was bad.

Near you, Omi notices how you had completely frozen at the entrance of his troupemates. He turns and begins to walk up to them. “Hey Taichi, everyone.”

They are good kids so while they might seem scary you have nothing to be concerned about! Besides, I’ll be there with you as much as possible.

You remember her comment over the phone yesterday. “How about I surprise you with a sudden burst of irrational concerns then…” the comment echoes the place, their attention directed toward you. You whimper. They were bulky, tall and absolutely intimidating in your eyes.

To your surprise, the redhead laughs. “Hey, that sounded like Tsuzuru-san just know!”

You yelp and you bit your lip. The rest of the actors had begun to walk almost where you stood, their collective gaze intensifying your unease. Part of your brain tells you they are only being friendly, but you feel like prey under scrutiny.

“You must be Y/N! Are those the new props we will use?”

The red head (Taichi?) appears in the blink of an eye in front of you. His eyes move in awe from one tool to another, humming lightly and above all, talking non-stop.

The proximity was too much, too fast.

“Oh wow, this is so cool! Look, Ban-chan!”

Before you can process it, someone else begin to lean in as well to inspect your equipment.

“Sweet.” The young man mentions, his expression one of approval. “Is this going to be—”

“If any of you get any closer I swear I will cry.”

Words tumbled out before you could stop them. There it was, your usual way to threaten people to leave your personal space. Some tended to find it funny. Others not so much. Your stress picks up just by imagining their reactions.

“Settsu, stop intimidatin' them.”

“Uh?! I don’ think ya should be the one to talk, fuckface.”

"I wasn't the one who was putting their nose in the work of others."

"How are you so sure they didn't mean your..."

As those two bicker, Taichi put his hands together, worried. “I'm sorry! We got too excited. We’re not bad tho, just so you know!”

“Tell that to that resting-bitch face over there.”

"Guys you are not helping!"

Omi chuckles while the one with dark black hair next to him rolls his eyes. “Great first impression.”

You blink. You were not sure what was happening but you felt… calmer. Or at least more than you thought for some reason, just like with Omi moments before.

Their movements and voices lowered, as if they had pick up on your discomfort but weren’t really angry or bothered by it. There was a hint of understanding in the air. A subtle shift and attempt to create a cautious yet friendly distance.

“Ah, right." the one called Settsu turned to you, temporarily derailed from whatever retort he’d been about to deliver. "Did Matsukawa show ya where the storage is? We don’ have many props but Director-chan said to take a look at what we could use. They are shitty tho, guess that’s why ya are here too.”

You nod. “I was there but… he couldn’t find them. Sakyo, I think was his name, came and said he would take care of it.”

"Yeah," he confirms in understanding. “That place is a lost battle so we might as well help. Would ya like us to divide what we find or somethin’? If you’re cool with that, I mean.” he turns to the others nonchalantly and then to you. “We can also just leave. It’s your call.”

The attempt to steer the conversation away from the unease you had at first was relieving… and the thought of not having to go back to that room also helped, of course.

You make an effort to meet their gazes, but they were already talking among themselves. You try to take them all in once again. Many of them have quite a few earrings, piercing eyes, and combined with their rugged features without meaning, added to their imposing appearances.

Still, the interactions had been considerate, more than what you sometimes were used to, and the proposal had made your chest feel warm, which is why you imagine despite your usual nerves stirring, you found yourself nodding. “Anything related to the play could work. I have the equipment to fix stuff so…” you shrugged but did just best to smile. “It’d be helpful, yeah.” You meant it.

Banri sends another in return. “Copy that. Let’s go.”

“We’ll be back in a while, Y/N! Ah—  I'll make sure to look for cool things we find so you can have the play be—“

“Taichi-san you’re getting overly excited again.”

“…Thanks for the work.”

Omi, who is the last one to leave the room and follow their troupemates turns back to you at the last second. “If you need anything else we can call director and let her know you are still here."

“It's... fine. Thanks. Um, sorry for…” you didn’t finish the sentence. You didn’t really know what were you apologizing for. You back down. "Nevermind."

His laugh echoes again through the auditorium. “There’s nothing to apologize for. We'll see you in a bit then.”

And just like that, you were alone with your thoughts.

Despite the uneasy feeling you had brought, the encounter hadn't been as terrifying as you had imagined. The prospect of further interactions still seemed daunting, but for now, you found a sense of relief regarding Mankai’s Autumn Troupe.

You take a deep breath and resume working again. This time however, a small smile decorates your face.

[whumpy-bi]

Haunted, 1

Word Count: 593

Warnings: blood, zip ties, implied experimentation

Caretaker was doing his usual rounds, pacing the empty halls of the research facility he’d spent the last few weeks working at. He knew the place studied medicine and neurology, or…something like that, he never could get a straight answer. But they paid well for overnight security, and that was all he cared to know. The details were probably just beyond his grasp, that was all. Right?

He went to turn another corner, mumbling with annoyance at the locked door. Stupid key cards, they were getting so tedious.

Caretaker’s fingers stopped just before he swiped his card, his brow immediately furrowed. He heard something.

He looked over his shoulder, down the windowless basement hall. He hadn’t checked any of the rooms…he never had to, they were all maintenance and storage space. But he definitely heard something.

His lips began to part for a ‘hello?’ Before another noise startled him into silence.

A cold, heavy stone had fallen into his stomach as he identified the noise coming from one of the storage rooms. That was crying.

Caretaker mumbled to himself, swallowing hard. “Okay, the place is haunted. Awesome.”

Despite every thought in his mind telling him otherwise, Caretaker put his keycard back in his belt and approached the door.

“I’m hearing things. I’m hearing things, I’m gonna see that there’s nothing in there. I gotta sleep more. Only weird thing here is me, talking to myself, there’s gonna be an empty room—“

His voice broke off into silence as he opened the door. Even with the limited light from the hallway, what he saw was unmistakable.

There was a woman there. With her hands secured around a support beam with a zip tie, her clothes stained with sweat and blood, her eyes red and wide with terror—

As Caretaker began to step forward, the woman panicked. She whined softly, the sound long and drawn out as she started to frantically yank at her arms. Old cuts reopened as she moved, blood smearing over her wrists and along the support beam. Her legs twisted as she attempted to gain some footing, to get any distance between herself and the man approaching her.

Caretaker finally snapped out of his surprise, raising both hands and stepping closer. “Hey, hey, I don’t—“ He swallowed. What the hell was he supposed to say? “It’s okay, it’s okay! Hang on, I can—“

He rushed over, noting how the woman seemed to completely freeze up once he reached her. Once his pocketknife had cut through the plastic tie, she fell back to her hands and knees and scrambled back behind an old cardboard box. It wasn’t nearly big enough to actually conceal her, but she seemed to gain comfort from having any sort of barrier.

She watched as Caretaker slowly lowered himself down to one knee, his eyes soft and sad-looking. He looked strange, to her, his expression lacking any sort of malice or aggression.

“Hi, miss…I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?” He kept both his hands in her line of sight, resting them on his legs. “I didn’t think anyone was down here…how long have you been here?”

Her only response was a look of confusion. However long it was, she had lost track.

“Okay…” He swallowed again. “How did you end up down here, miss? What happened?”

The woman watched him carefully, her hands still trembling under her. “The—the doctors.”

Caretaker nodded intently, his jaw clenching and shifting as he made a quick decision.

He was quitting this fucking job, starting now. And he was getting this lady out.

[rottenbrainstuff]

BG3 playthrough - completely finished under Moonrise

Wow, oh wow.

From the top: first we had fight #1 with Ketheric. I made sure not to kill Kar’niss earlier because I thought I’d have an opportunity to talk to him on the roof, but nope! We just jumped straight into fight #1, and then he was just a large extra hassle to deal with. I felt SO bad killing him, because I had to incapacitate him somehow, and my bard has really good fear spells so that’s normally what I use. It felt really crummy making this poor guy cower while I slowly chop him down. Sigh. (hey what comes out of those incubating death rock egg things? I was too scared to see and killed them all immediately)

Man. I couldn’t stop staring at Ketheric’s eyes though. Even on lower rendering settings, you can see they clearly spent a TON of effort on his eyes specifically. Man, guys. You must have had a special task team that worked for months just specifically on rendering his wrinkles, and the glassy rheumy effect of his eyes. Holy shit. It’s such a cool direction to take, set up your baddie as this awful, ruthless general with all the battle remains and the chilling letters, make him creepy as fuck with the goblin and the axe demonstration, then also put a shitton of effort into making him also just a really really sad really really old man. I love it.

Then after that: wading through the mindflayer colony. Online says that the companions who have extra dialogue or cutscenes in here are Wyll, Gale, and Karlach, but :( :( :( that leaves no room for Astarion? I decided to not have Karlach. Sorry babe. And anyways, without Astarion, who else is going to take out poor old Chop in one single merciful blow?

I rescued Zevlor from the pods, thank god, thank GOD finally. (hilarious to see his tail poking out the back there) My tav has been upset about him for weeks here. Goddamn, poor guy, he’s been thralled by the Absolute but doesn’t care what you tell him, he puts the blame on himself. Even when you tell him it’s not his fault he was enthralled, he still says that that might be true, but whatever the Absolute does, it starts with something that’s already inside you. Buddy, my buddy. And they programmed so many different ways to get angry with him and blame him. Why? Why do you even want to blame this poor guy who is already blaming himself more than you ever could? I mean at best he was enthralled and couldn’t help it, but at worst he just made a bad decision that he honestly and immediately regretted entirely and was disgusted by. Leave this poor old man alone. He won’t even get angry if you pick the most aggressive and mean dialogue options, he just agrees. Sigh. Back with the other tieflings, you can mention to Cerys that you found Zevlor, and she will just be angry at him for letting them down when they needed him. And I mean. Yes that’s valid but damn it makes me sad. Poor sad old man. Anyways he leveled up in the time we were away, and he is a mean fighter now! Nice! I wish he could have stuck around longer. That was an awfully short conversation, for as much as it was all built up, with all the other tielfings mentioning how angry at him they were! Is this REALLY the only interaction we have with him now until act 3???

DAYUM this area is shitty for a resisting dark urge. So many lovely horrible things down here. Wow. My poor tav, he needs a big long rest to process all of this, but after you’re done everyone wants to talk and there’s a big old cutscene coming up. Poor guy, no rest for you.

THE MIND JARS: wow ok. So at the very beginning of the game, you found those two green brain jars on the nautiloid. Hopefully you stuck them in your storage, or maybe you thought they were useless and you just sold them. EIther way, I’m pretty sure it didn’t occur to you to bring them with you when you went into the Moonrise pit? Why WOULD you think to bring them? It’s too bad if you didn’t, because in this area is the only machine in the game that lets you use these jars, and once you find the machine and realize what it’s for, you can’t travel back to your trunk to get them, and you ALSO won’t be able to return later on. So. Tough luck. Me, I was travelling with my team of 8 str weenies, and every mind jar I found, I sent straight to my camp! Why wouldn’t I? These guys can’t weigh themselves down with extra shit! By the time I found the machine and realized what it did, there was only one jar left in my inventory that I didn’t send back to camp.

I suppose the jars maybe are supposed to be a fun little easter egg for players who go back and play again. Too bad I’m very willing to reload and redo things for hours and hours lmao. I reloaded just a couple hours and this time brought all the jars with me. Thanks, I hate it! What a horrible and disturbing little touch. Yay. Was my least favourite the child mind, or was it the spooky singing one? Hard to say!

I was shitting my pants when Ketheric turned into the Myrkul apostle form, cause it looked scary, but damn? We just all slammed it a few times and it was totally fine? Very very cool boss though. I loved the little skeletons sitting on his shoulder with the flails. Goddamn Ketheric stayed sad right until the end huh? Driven to do horrible things in a misguided attempt to help his daughter, forsaken by three different gods, and his last dying thought and words were of Isobel. I fucking lost it when I found the little note that he keeps on him. Excellent writing Larian, excellent job of making your good guys flawed and your bad guys sad. Man I love it.

Now I have a shitton of talking and cutscenes to wade through to get to act 3. I absolutely ADORE how when the guardian talks about the elder brain, it is just ever so slightly the wrong reaction, lmao. I love how instead of being just generally horrified that there’s an elder brain there at all, it seems to be really, really indignant that mortals are controlling it. “I mean yes hey let’s go save the people of Baldur’s Gate from being turned into mindflayers, but the audacity! The audacity of putting an elder brain in thrall!” and my tav is like hmmm I feel like that’s an… unusual reaction to this situation….

Astarion is absolutely preening after the fight, saying that he never thought he’d be the one defeating the shadows. Yeah see buddy, it feels good sometimes to play the hero, doesn’t it?

Man, my party is enormous now because of all the summons I have walking around with me. I currently have Scratch, three quasits, a shadow wraith thingamajig, an earth elemental (which oh man I absolutely love) and now, the latest addition, a cambion. The cambion is hilarious. It’s a totally sentient and intelligent thing, but I can’t talk to it at all. I imagine it’s pissed off at being summoned here away from its dinner to do boring bullshit errands for this group of wankers, so it just totally and completely ignores me.

Off to act 3 now! Can’t believe I’m in the final act of the game! Can anyone tell me where I can get my own tall, hot, and intensely devoted aasimar girlfriend?

[chainedupgirlsblog]

Chapter 6: I still feel the same

The day of their high school reunion arrives and Tinn decides to go. He’s aware it may be a terrible decision but ends up going anyway. Curiosity winning the best out of him, again. 

The day of the event, he arrives early at the place, and way too soon he finds himself standing in front of the main gate of his old school. The memories that flood his mind at that moment are wholesome, he had an excellent high school experience overall he gotta admit. 

This place brings back fond memories for the most part. 

He’s smiling widely until he recognizes a familiar figure pass in front of him. His smile fades little by little as he narrows his eyes to make sure he’s not mistaking the person who just passed by him without noticing him.

The woman walking in front of him struggles with what looks like heavy grocery bags, so once he’s sure of who that is, he’s fast to approach her. 

“May I help you?” Tinn asks politely. The woman turns around suddenly and Tinn can see the exact moment she recognizes him. 

“Tinn!” She says with enthusiasm. “You’re back!” She adds looking genuinely surprised. 

He hasn’t told her… Tinn thinks. But immediately push that thought away to greet her back.

“Hello, mae… ” he says too fast to realize what he just called her, “How have you been?” 

“Good, very good, son. And you?” She asks, as enthusiastic as before, with a smile too similar to her son’s one. 

It doesn’t go unnoticed to Tinn what she just called him but he decides to not think too much about it and replies instead, insisting on his previous offer of carrying her bags. She accepts and both of them walk to the milk bar. 

“I didn’t know you were back,” she expresses again, making small talk on the way back. 

“I came back about a month ago or so,” Tinn says as they arrive at the milk bar. 

“Are you working again at the hospital?” She asks placing her purse on the counter of the bar. The place doesn’t seem to be close, but there aren't customers either. Tinn absently wonders who was in charge while Gim was gone. 

“Yes. I started a residency at Bangkok Central Hospital a few weeks ago.” Tinn replies, and immediately follows, “Should I put this in the storage at the back?” he asks referring to the bags that are still in his hands. 

“Yes, please.” She says nodding in agreement while watching Tinn disappear at the back of the bar. “Thank you, dear. You’re as kind as always.” She adds with a wistful look, remembering when Tinn used to do the same years ago. 

When Tinn returns he finds the front counter empty. Gim isn’t there anymore, so Tinn allows himself to wander around the place a little. It hasn’t changed much. The walls, tables, and decorations remain the same, just as he remembers them. Tinn’s about to get back to the counter when one particular thing calls his attention. 

The old corkboard is still hanging in its place. With all its pictures storing countless moments.

A sad smile spreads on his face. There are still pictures of the two of them pinned there. One in particular steals his attention once again; it’s from their high school graduation day. They look so young there, so joyful. So eager for the life ahead of them, without knowing the path they would follow. To some extent, Tinn feels in debt to his younger self for not living the life he had dreamed of. 

Would things have been different if he—? 

“Tinn, have this, like in the old days,” Gim approaches him, distracting him from his troubled thoughts. “A special Jumba!” she adds, placing a big bowl of sweetened ice in front of him. 

Tinn’s smile grows until it becomes genuine. Without hesitation, he takes the bowl in his hands. 

“Thank you, mae, ” He says, and this time he notices. “I’m sorry. It comes out naturally.” He apologized, a bit embarrassed for saying it a second time.

“It’s alright, son.” She says with that big smile on her face. The smile that is so similar to his…

It reminds Tinn of the first day he tried his first Jumba, so many years ago. That one had also been given to him as a gift, and he probably had the same sad expression back then. 

They keep talking while Tinn sits and eats his ice cream on one of the seats at the counter bar of the shop. Their talking is interrupted minutes later by a boy who introduces himself as the new part-timer of the shop. The boy is very talkative and he won’t stop talking until Gim shoos him away so he can do his work.

Gim is distracted, this time by the arrival of new customers, and while Gim serves her customers, Tinn is left by himself again, alone with his thoughts and memories. Music starts playing through the speakers, the part-timer being the one in charge of the task to liven up the store, and that’s a good distraction until it isn’t. 

The music that starts playing is barely a distraction at first, normal music, Tinn barely registers it, but by the second song, Tinn is startled as he hears a familiar melody sung by an even more familiar voice. 

Tinn is paralyzed in his seat when he recognizes the lyrics and the melodious singing. Memories are immediately evoked and Tinn is taken almost ten years back to the day of his fifteenth birthday when he had his first jumba and met his first and only love.

Memories overflood him as the lyrics of the song unfolded. Lifting his gaze, Tinn finds the corner where the old guitar Gun used to play his mini-concerts with still stands as a reminder of what they used to share. 

I was just someone,  In this lonely city. I was just nobody, Until you came and took my heart.   It’s as if my room has changed its color, It’s so beautiful that nothing else can compare.   Oh, the time has stopped, This city isn’t lonely anymore. Because I have you today.    You are there standing next to me,  I’d never dreamed of finding you, Among millions of people in this city, Without having to search.   I will hold you close and never let you slip away, Because it is not a dream. Ever since you came into my heart,  I ended the search for everyone.    When you get hold of me. 

Memories of the two of them together singing the song overlap with the ones of Gun singing it alone. Only for him, that’s how Tinn remembers it.

Tinn is overwhelmed, to say the least. It’s like he was able to see Gun singing the song in front of him all over again, his beautiful voice flooding softly into his ears.

Oh, the time has stopped, This city isn’t lonely anymore. Because I have you today. 

There was a time when he hadn't been as lonely as he had been in the last few years.

I will hold you close and never let you slip away,

And in the end, he did let him slip away. It hurts so much… 

Ever since you came into my heart,  I ended the search for everyone. 

He’ll never be able to move on. 

He can deny it anymore. He needs to face his feelings and accept what his broken heart silently screams: He missed it. He missed him. And he missed the two of them together.

He misses what they had so much that it physically pains him to know that it’s over. They had thought what they had would last forever, they planned for it to be forever, but it wasn’t and he can't take it. He has never been able to take it.

He’ll never be able to move on… Because his heart is settled on him. It’s been settled on him since the beginning since he was fifteen. Him only him. Gun is the person his heart has chosen since the very first moment. And his heart is a stubborn one, and it’s unwilling to let him go.

Just by listening to their song, he realizes he still feels the same way he felt when he was still a teen, the illusion of finding love in the boy with the most beautiful voice he ever heard, now is a fading feeling, a mere memory of what one day he had the privilege to have. He had thought the love had faded too. But it didn’t, it’s very much still there as vivid as it has always been.

His heart beats so hard it hurts and he feels overwhelmed, tears start running down his cheeks without him realizing it. His entire body is shaking swamped with feelings that were born once in this same place so many years ago. 

Suddenly, he’s unable to breathe correctly, and he knows he needs to get out of here. It’s too much to take in. He needs to leave as much as he needs to breathe. 

Panting and shaking he gets up from his seat and walks away, away from his unfinished jumba, away from this music that evoked so many memories and feelings. But overall, he wants to walk away from his feelings but he can’t, and he’s now just accepting the fact that he would never be able to get rid of his feelings, nor does he think he ever wants to.

Through his clouded senses, he can hear Gim calling him concerned probably, but he’s too lost in his internal turmoil to attend to her worried call, so he just keeps walking making his way toward the exit. He needs to get out of there as soon as possible. But on his way out he impacts abruptly on the arms of the person he eagerly wants to escape from. 

Gun holds him between his arms, looking at him with shock and worry. Tinn is sure Gun is calling him, he can see the concern on his face, but he can’t hear any sound. His mind is in such a daze he feels like he's about to pass out.

“What’s wrong, Tinn?” Gun asks increasingly concerned. “What happened?” he keeps asking, with a tone as sweet as his singing voice, he cradles Tinn's face between his hands so tender and soft it makes Tinn cry even harder. When Gun feels Tinn's fill with tears cheeks he gets even more worry.

“I need to go, I need to get out of here…” Tinn mutters in a small almost broken voice, averting his eyes from Gun’s worried gaze. “It’s the same, I still feel the same… ” He adds in a whisper, sounding helpless but at the same time daring to stare back at Gun's eyes intensity.

A few heartbeats pass by them. Gun wants to ask more, he needs answers or any sort of explanation, but before Gun can say anything, Tinn gets out of his embrace and scapes, finally walking out of the house completely.

Gun looks at his mother, who is at the front door looking at him with concern, for an explanation but she’s just as clueless as him. However, when Gun enters the milk bar and listens to the music still playing inside the shop, he gets it. It all clicks in his mind like a synchronized button and Tinn’s words come back at him and everything finally makes sense. 

It’s the same, I still feel the same… Tinn has said.

The same as the first day he had listened to the song Gun played for him, the song that is now getting to its end, and with the last notes Gun realizes... If he still feels the same, that means…

It might not be over for them. 

Gun’s heart starts a hectic race against his quicking breathing when he recognizes the meaning behind those words.

“When do you think was the exact moment?” Tinn asks with his eyes sparkling with curiosity and anticipation. For a moment Gun is lost in the intense glow of those beautiful eyes.

“What do you mean?” Gun asks, voice soothing and calm. On his lips, you can see the faint hint of one of his big smiles. Tinn makes an annoyed noise and shifts his position on the bed to get a bit closer to Gun. They remain lying on their bed, facing each other. 

“You know what I mean… When do you think was the exact moment that you fell in love with me…” he finishes in a shy whisper, his eyes avoiding Gun’s for a few seconds. 

“Ummm… not sure.” Gun murmurs, gaining Tinn’s attention again. The latter is about to protest when Gun continues, “I don’t think I can spot the exact moment. It happened rather gradually. I did not realize until it practically burst in my face.” Gun explains, holding Tinn’s hands and playing with his fingers unconsciously. 

“I know the exact moment I fell for you…” Tinn says, trapping Gun's fingers between his own, with his eyes focused on the other’s face. 

“When was it?” Gun asks voice barely a whisper. So eager to know.

“Not telling you,” Tinn says with a bratty tone, letting go of Gun’s hands with a whim.

“Tinn…” Gun mutters with a half annoyed half amused tone of voice. 

Tinn tries to get away from Gun, but the latter is quicker, and in seconds Tinn is trapped under his body with his weight pressing him against the mattress.

“Still not telling me?” Gun asks in another whisper, too close to Tinn’s heated face. 

“Not telling!” Tinn's reply is stubborn. And it inevitably causes a glorious laugh from Gun. 

“You’re so cute,” Gun’s voice is full of endearment. Following up his instincts Gun leans in to steal a kiss from Tinn. But Tinn is not as weak as he has been before (he is but he’s also stubborn), so he quickly avoids contact with Gun’s lips. Making the other frown slightly and when Tinn doesn’t give in, Gun just laughs it off, shaking his head in disbelief. “Alright, let me think about it…”

Gun takes a few minutes to think it through and remember the exact moment. 

“Oh, I think I know when!” He says with enthusiasm. “Remember our first stayover?” he asks, to which Tinn just nods with built-up regained excitement. “The last day you asked me to look into your eyes, and when I did it, my heart started beating like crazy. I knew I felt different about you then. After that, it was a complete rollercoaster of emotions… you know how it went, and how it ends.” Gun finishes in a whisper, looking at Tinn with intensity. 

Tinn can’t contain the wide smile that spreads on his lips. They talked about this when they shared their first real kiss, but he never knew that had been the changing moment for Gun's feelings to make the switch from despising him to having a crush on him. It’s such pleasant information, he can’t contain his excitement and drags his boyfriend in a tight hug.

Kissing him all over his pretty face too. 

“Don’t sugarcoat me…” Gun says with fake annoyance. “I wanna know when was yours too.”

“You already know when was mine…” Tinn says with a mischievous smile. That just grows bigger at the sight of pure confusion displayed on Gun’s face. 

“Remember that time we were talking on the phone, going through the questions for the MV?” Tinn asks and Gun just nods. “That time, you asked me which was my happiest memory and I said that it was when a boy sang for me on my birthday when I was lonely eating the ice cream the same boy had given to me…”

Gun’s facial expression is a poem. A confused and blushing mess. So cute. Tinn might add.

“The moment you sang for me on my fifteenth birthday, was also the moment when my feelings started. Since that moment I knew you were the only one I wanted to be with for the rest of my life…” 

Silence falls upon them. And insecurity settles on Tinn making him feel embarrassed and insecure of his words. Was it too much of a confession? 

He’s not afraid of the intensity of his feelings but maybe for Gun can be overwhelming. So he hurries and tries to soften his words, making them a bit less scary. But suddenly every attempt to do anything dies on Tinn's lips which are being kissed with a contrasting combination of tenderness and passion.

“Every time I think I can’t love you more, you prove me wrong…” Gun mutters against Tinn’s lips, nuzzling at the soft skin before he crushes their lips together once again and again. He kept going like that multiple times, starting an endless kissing session that developed into much more by the rest of the night.

The echoes of the memory linger in the air, thickening it, and making it hard for Gun to breathe. The truth of those last few words remains as truthful as it has always been. 

Gun gives a last look at his mother, looking at her as his entire world is shaken. He recognizes the knowing look on his mother’s face but before she can say anything he runs towards the exit. Going after him, because this time he is not willing to make the same mistake as before. He’s not letting him go again. Never again.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | ?

[zepskies]

I was sad getting to the end here too, but I'm very excited to see what you think of how it all wrapped up! 🥰

Dean's eyes following the piece of pie as she served it--I can't taaaaake it. ='] The smile and compliment she got from John. Very rare, indeed. Also, Good Stuff.

Ahaha you can picture Dean's disappointed little face. 😂 I think I can count on my hand how many times John actually smiled, but I thought it was a good moment for it here. 🥹

I love the idea of this family putting that nightmare behind them and taking a vacation together. Beach? Yes. Dean in board shorts? Hell, yes.

I loved that idea too! They definitely need a family vacay lol. Might as well be tropical! I sense a cliche "help me put some sunscreen on my back" in their future. 😜

A glimpse of Jo and Cas! Great to see them in this final part. And I'm happy--but not surprised--she passed her test!

Yeah I was trying to figure out how to slip in the complete closure of Jo's arc, and it felt right to get it via Cas, who's gonna take some time off his cases too while he recovers medically lol.

Something about John protecting her during the shootout and protecting Dean from the aftermath of it... Excellent layers as always, my friend. (Also, "You protected her when I couldn’t" hit me right in the chest.)

John's a protector (just like he raised his sons to be)! I thought he would absolutely do what he could to protect her and Dean in whatever way he could. Plus, he would feel responsible for Dean getting being put into that situation (even if he made that choice to enter the storage building himself).

...It still made him feel dirty. A strike to his integrity as a first responder, and as a man. That was something he’d just have to deal with, along with everything else.

It hurts me deeply that our sweet boy has to carry this weight now. (But it's sublime storytelling.)

Thank you!! I thought it would be more realistic for Dean to still be struggling with the weight of his choice, even if it was to protect his family. 🥲

Mary's ring! Sam and Eileen are engaged! I am squeeing!

Finally!! Saileen is officially sailing! lol

He didn’t know yet if you two were ready for that step. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time…but he knew he wasn’t going anywhere. He had time to do things right with you.

This is so beautiful and romantic and endearing. And a little unexpected, which is good. (An immediate proposal could've come out a bit cliché.)

Thank you so much! 😭 Absolutely on an immediate proposal being cliché. Dean can be impulsive about a lot of things, but this isn't one of them, I thought.

The team welcoming Dean on his first day back had me grinning from ear to ear!

Hahaa the hero's triumphant return!! Needed to happen, and I so enjoyed writing a bit of Meg before we closed the story lol. (Plus, I really wanted to get to Benny's line to tie in with the story title. 🥹)

She's catering! Yeah, girl! Do what you love! Speaking of love, I am still so obsessed with Dean being her taste tester. =']<3 And him equating mini quiche to pie had me melting.

Yes!! She finally gets the courage to pursue her passion. She and Dean will for sure have more "baking shenanigans" in their future loll. I thought the quiche = pie bit would be on brand for him. 😂

He stared at you with mock offense. “Uh, obviously.

...reading this spooked me because I have a finished (currently unpublished) work that includes this nearly verbatim. Are we sharing a brain?!

Omg seriously?? I love that loll. I've said it before. Sometimes I've written certain lines, and when you shout them out later I think to myself, "I can see why Lara liked that line. That's definitely like something she would write." 😂 And I mean that in the most loving of ways, because you're writing is awesome. ❤️

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” Dean said. “I really am.” You smiled and stroked his cheek in answer.

They are so beautiful. =']

🥹🥹 The fluff really kicks you in the teeth, doesn't it? loll

Captain Winchester! Dean's not the only one who likes the sound of that... 👀

Captain Winchester, indeed!! Could totally see him in the navy formalwear and the white cap and gloves lol.

(Captain Matt Casey from Chicago Fire^)

The last few paragraphs left me giddy. Both over the actual content and your decision to end this story there. Brilliant. <3

Hahaa I'm so glad!! The ending was a bit of a tease, but we all know what her answer was gonna be. 😘 Thank you so much, not only for reading this series, but for your wonderful feedback on every chapter. It always brightens up my day and made me glad I could share this story with you all! 💕

Smoke Eater - Epilogue

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

AN: We made it, friends. 🥹

Word Count: 2,800 Tags/Warnings: Fluff and feels, that is all.

Epilogue: “Easy as Pie”

The week after the incident at Stull Storage, John, Sam, Dean, and Eileen sat down to a family dinner that you cooked in the brothers’ apartment. Aside from Eileen, all of you had injuries in one form or another (but even Sam’s shiner was healing up nicely). 

For dessert, you were a bit nervous as you brought out a freshly baked apple pie. Dean caught you mentally bracing yourself before you set it down on the table. He shot you a reassuring smile.

“Looks great,” he said.

Your returning smile was tentative as you divvied out the first piece. Dean was just a bit disappointed when you handed it to John. His eyes followed the plate.

You smiled more genuinely, and made sure the next generous piece you cut was for your boyfriend.

After everyone was served, you sat down with your own plate and encouraged them all to dig in. Forks hit the crumbly top and cinnamon apple filling, and there were collective hums of pleasure throughout the room.

You brightened and glanced over at the rest of the table. John looked contemplative. His fork rested on the plate for a moment.

He gave a rare smile. “That’s some damn good pie.” 

Sam nodded. “For sure.”

Dean looked over at you after he’d already demolished half of his serving. A smile spread across his face.

“Best slice of pie since I can remember,” he said, giving you a wink.

Both of you knew the weight of that review. It humbled you, making you blush.

You smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, rough with stubble.

“I guess this recipe’s a keeper then,” you said.

He hummed in agreement. When he went in for a real kiss, it was sweet indeed.

From then on, you all spent the evening talking, eating, laughing, with you and Sam drinking wine and everyone else their beer. You updated them on Andréa and Benny, who were planning their trip to Greece in a few months.

"We should take a vacation," Dean pointed out, gesturing around the table. "All of us."

Sam raised his brows at his brother. "Oh yeah? Where would you wanna go?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. He glanced at you, and found you smiling.

"The beach," he said. "Somewhere warm and chill, with those fancy little umbrellas in your drink."

"Hmm...I like that," you said, as your smile grew. Tropical, relaxing, a warm sun on your face, and your boyfriend in some board shorts. You could definitely go for some of that.

"Sounds nice," Eileen agreed.

"I'll look into some destinations," Sam nodded. Dean nudged his brother's shoulder.

"One word, dude. Maui."

Sam snorted. "We can't afford Maui."

"Hey, you never know, man! Time to check out some Groupons."

"You can't get a Groupon to go to Hawaii," Sam said. His face was scrunched in what Dean liked to call, his "Know It All" face.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean shot back. "There's a friggin' Groupon for everything nowadays!"

Of course, that devolved into a familiar sibling argument that was only disrupted when John broke into the conversation. He admitted something shocking—that he was taking some time off work, for the first time since he took his sons camping when they were kids. Sam and Dean teased the workaholic for finally "slowing down" in his old age, but it was all in good fun.

You and Eileen shared a knowing look. It all felt as close to family as you’d had in a long time.

And for Dean, it felt like he could breathe again. He’d gotten a text shortly after dessert—from Cas.

Jo made it into the Police Academy. She starts training in a few weeks.

Dean’s lips quirked with a smile.

How do you know?

I’ll be instructing a couple of her classes. Firearm Safety and Weapons Training.

Dean nearly laughed.

Good luck, buddy. Try not to get your ass shot.

To which Cas replied:

My ass will be nowhere within range, I assure you.

Dean did chuckle at that. When you turned to him and asked what was so funny, he just shook his head and grabbed onto your hand on the table.

“Nothin’. I’m good,” he said. He pressed your knuckles to his lips. “I’m real good.”

You smiled at that.

Later that night, Dean walked his father to the door while you and Sam were locked in a trivia game, and Eileen tried to play mediator between two very competitive nerds.  

“Dad,” Dean said.

John stopped with a hand on the door, turning back to his eldest.

Dean paused to gather his thoughts, but he eventually grasped his father’s arm and met his gaze.

“Just wanted to say thank you, for what you did for her,” he said, discreetly nodding at you. He kept his voice quiet. “You protected her when I couldn’t.”

John paused, seeming surprised. His brows furrowed as he shook his head.

“You don’t need to thank me for that, son,” he said.

“Yeah, I do,” Dean insisted. He’d heard every bit of that conversation between John and Daniel in that warehouse. His father had been willing to lay down and die for you, not a moment’s hesitation.

Cas was right, Dean had realized. His father did have a line.

John let out a breath. “What matters is we made it here.”

Dean nodded, though he dimmed.

“Yeah, came with one hell of a price tag.”

It still weighed heavily on him, what he’d had to do to end Daniel Savage. In the end, John had lied on his statement of the events. He’d taken responsibility for grabbing Daniel’s gun and shooting him between the eyes.

“It’s the only thing I can do to keep you out of this,” John had told his son. “Should’ve been my hand anyway.”

Dean appreciated what his dad had done to protect him from the law, and his career, but it still made him feel dirty. A strike to his integrity as a first responder, and as a man. That was something he’d just have to deal with, along with everything else.

John distracted him, however, by gripping his shoulder this time.

“You saved my life, Dean,” he said. And with a hint of a smile, “It’s what you’re good at.”

Dean met his dad’s gaze. He wasn’t quite able to smile back, but there was new warmth in his chest.

“Oh,” said John, raising a finger. “Before I forget…”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a silver engagement ring with a small stone. To Dean, it looked familiar…

When it finally struck him what this was, he looked up at John in surprise. Dean glanced back to make sure you weren’t looking before he tentatively took the ring.

“Is this…Mom’s?” he asked.

John nodded. “The stone’s nothing special. You might wanna get it reset. Sam already figured out his uh…situation on his own. Maybe you want to find your own too.”

Dean knew what he meant. Sam had bought a ring last year, but he'd proposed to Eileen just a few days ago. They were already planning to get married a year from now, along with buying their first house together.

Dean examined the ring he held with a softer smile.

“Nah, it’s perfect,” he said.

He didn’t know yet if you two were ready for that step. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time…but he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

He had time to do things right with you.

A few months later, Dean’s medical leave ended. He was physician-approved for duty, psych evaluation and all. He showed up for his shift bright and early.

He entered the doors of Firehouse 25 to a host of his friends and makeshift family cheering, complete with cheesy streamers and an even cheesier cake that Meg held. On the top was scrawled: Good Job Cracking Your Head.

“A smoke eater returns to the house!” Benny remarked with a grin. “Good to see ya, brother.”

He clapped Dean heavily enough on the back that it earned a grunt and a laugh out of him.

“You too, man,” Dean replied.

Meg set down the cake on the table and was the next one to playfully punch him in the shoulder.

“You have a nice little vacation?” she teased.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, complete with bottomless margaritas and little umbrellas.”

She smirked, but she was still earnest when she touched his arm.

“Welcome back.”

Dean chuckled. “Ooh, now I know you missed me.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes as she waved a dismissive hand at him. Chuck and Jack gave more sincere well wishes, with the latter actually hugging Dean. He’d tolerated it with a smile.

Gordon clapped him on the shoulder once Jack was finally done, and Dean sent the Candidate off with a bright smile on his face.

Gordon smiled. “Welcome back, Lieutenant.”

Dean nodded and shook the other man’s hand. “Thanks for holdin’ down the fort, man.”

“No problem,” Gordon said. “Any time you wanna go on sabbatical, you just let me know. Acting Lieutenant’s almost better than the real deal. It’s not as much paperwork.”

Dean chuckled, but before he could sling back a retort, the alarm went off. There was a working house fire downtown, according to the dispatcher in the overhead speaker.

Bobby appeared in the hall and clapped his hands once.

“All right, gear up. We’re startin’ off the day right,” he said. He gave Dean a look that was somehow both pleased to see him and stern at the same time. Bobby addressed him with a point of his finger.

“See me in my office before the end of shift,” he said. “We’ve got somethin’ to talk about.”

A few days later, Dean had the rare pleasure of welcoming you home from work on his day off. You trudged into the apartment with several bags and rolling a cooler behind you. He got up from the couch and grabbed some of the bags for you on your way to the kitchen.

“How did it go?” he asked, reaching out a hand to rub some flour off your cheek. You smiled brightly.

“Well, there was a little snafu with the mini quiche, but they loved the menu I proposed. They want me to cater the whole wedding!” you said.

“Whoa, that’s a lotta food,” Dean remarked. Once you’d dumped the rest of your stuff on the kitchen table, he slid an arm around your waist and brought you flush against him, earning a squeal from you.

You clung to his shoulders. “You still on for being my official taste tester?”

He stared at you with mock offense.

“Uh, obviously. Mini quiche are my weakness,” he teased. “Just another form of pie, far as I’m concerned.”

You giggled into his lips as he claimed you for a kiss. It was both sweet, and a bit naughty as his hands moved to squeeze your ass. His words were no less heartfelt.

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” Dean said. “I really am.”

 You smiled and stroked his cheek in answer.

The Monday morning after that family dinner a few months ago, you’d quit your job at Savage & Co. After a month of wracking your brain and your savings, you decided to start your own catering business.

It was your way of starting small, to try and get people in this town to know you for your food and baked goods. And maybe, if you were successful enough, you’d be able to open up your own bakery in a couple of years.

For once, you were going after what you truly wanted…but now, your career was only part of it.

You hadn’t forgotten your conversation with Dean about what he wanted for his future: of getting married someday, and having a family. Something he could build for himself. 

Not only did you want that for him, but you’d begun to crave that for yourself as well: a family of your own.

Realistically, you knew that part was years away for you and Dean. However, you had that in the back of your mind. Having your own business had always been your dream, but sometimes your dream could adjust. 

Or, it could become something new.

You’d also sold your grandparents’ house. You had contemplated going back, but you didn’t want to be reminded of how the police and the Arson Department had torn it apart after Daniel Savage threatened your life. You didn’t want to be reminded of where both of your grandparents died.

You loved that house, but you also knew it was time to let it go…

Because you finally understood what your grandfather had tried to tell you months ago.

A house did not make a home. And now, you’d managed to make a new one.

For his part, Dean had been happy to have you stay in his apartment. Sam was getting ready to move out in a few months anyway, as he and Eileen were deep into house hunting and planning their wedding.

“So…I’ve gotta tell you something,” said Dean, after he parted from your lips for a moment, and allowed you to breathe. His tone made you tilt your head in suspicion.

“It’s nothing bad,” he said, though he looked a bit nervous.

Your brows furrowed. You led him to the couch, where he held your hands in his. It took him a moment to get started. He seemed stuck on what he wanted to say, or maybe just how he wanted to say it.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it,” you teased.

Dean gave you a smile. His shoulders relaxed a little.

“They want to promote me to Captain,” he said.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes went wide.

“They? Who’s they?” you asked.

Dean blew out a breath and scratched at the small scar on the side of his head.

“Apparently it came from the Battalion Chief.”

He explained that the Fire Department had gotten the full debrief from both Sam and John about Dean’s involvement in ending the serial arsons and murders committed by Nick and Daniel Savage. Without you and Dean, they wouldn’t have figured out Azazel’s identity, let alone stopped his criminal enterprise.

You smiled wide with excitement as you held Dean’s face in your hands.

“That’s amazing!” you said. You pulled him in for a hug. Though he held you back, you soon realized that you were happier than he seemed to be. You pulled back and carded your fingers through his hair, earning his gaze.

“What’s wrong, baby? This is great news!”

Dean’s lips pursed. “I don’t know. I broke ranks and defied a direct order at the Savage & Co. fire. And at the warehouse, I was even more reckless. I don’t want to be promoted for disobeying orders.”

You frowned at that, even as you continued to stroke through his hair.

“What did Bobby tell you?” you asked.

Once again, Dean sighed. He’d been called into Bobby’s office a few days ago, after his first shift back at 25.

He’d surprised the hell out of Dean.

“Did you break ranks that day, and put not just yourself, but Benny and the rest of your men in danger?” Bobby said. “You bet your ass.”

Dean averted his gaze. He stood with his hands drawn behind his back, willing to take whatever punishment the Chief saw fit.

“But,” Bobby continued. His fingers tapped on his desk, where he sat on the edge across from Dean. “It wasn’t fair of me to stop you from lookin’ for your girlfriend.”

Dean’s attention sharpened at that, and he frowned in confusion. Bobby didn’t apologize. Ever.

“Sir?” Dean asked uncertainly.

Bobby softened the slightest bit. He heaved a sigh.

The man was a widower, but he still wore his wedding ring. He toyed with it now on his finger.

“We could’ve radioed in with the other teams already at work. I could’ve paired half of your team with the top floor units. But in the heat of the moment, I made a judgment call,” Bobby said, leveling Dean with a look. “As a leader, you’ll continue makin’ mistakes. You’ll make the wrong call. It’s how you learn to keep leading that matters. And there ain’t a person in this house that wouldn’t have gone up to pull your fool head outta that fire.”

Dean stayed quiet in his discomfort. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Bobby was telling him all of this.

“That being said, this is coming from the top,” Bobby said. His gruffness was back. He took a folder off his desk and handed it to Dean. “Here’s the next step, if you choose to accept it.”

You were crying by the end of his story. Dean cupped your cheek and caught your tears with his thumb. You grabbed that hand and gently squeezed.

“He believes in you, Dean,” you said. “So do I. And it’s my turn to be so damn proud of you.”

Dean graced you with a smile for that one. Yours brightened. You moved off the couch and slid into his lap, twining your arms around his neck. Dean welcomed you with an arm around your waist and a hand sliding up your jean-clad thigh.

“Guess I’m gonna have to get used to calling you Captain,” you said with a smirk.

Captain Winchester, Dean considered, rolling the weight of it around in his mind.

He chuckled. “Okay, maybe I'm liking the sound of that.”

“Mhmm, that’s what I thought,” you said, shortly before you pressed your lips to his. He squeezed your hip while your deft fingers once again slipped into his hair. With each new kiss, Dean felt more of his uncertainty melt away.

A new thought occurred to him then. It made him start to grin against your lips, and you parted from him.

“What?” you asked in amusement.

Dean slipped a hand into his pocket, where he felt the outline of his mother’s newly resized ring.

“Hey,” he said. Your brows drew together in suspicion at the gleam in his eye. 

“Hey, yourself,” you quipped. 

Dean breathed in deep, steeling himself. He looked into your eyes, and he smiled. 

“I’ve got a question for you.”

AN: ...And I think we all know what her answer was. ❤️‍🔥

I can't believe it! I started posting this story on September 15, the beginning of Hispanic Heritage Month. Almost four months later, we finally made it to the end of Smoke Eater. 🥹

Thank you to all of you who've been following along at any point of the journey. Your comments and feedback have truly touched me, and have helped keep me going! 💕

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

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[storiesforallfandoms]

inspirational ~ corpse husband

word count: 1589

request?: yes!

“Hi! I was wondering if you could do a corpse husband imagine where the reader has a feeding tube? If you can’t that’s perfectly fine, I just haven’t been able to find one yet.”

description: in which the group plays with a popular streamer that has a feeding tube and corpse tells her how much she inspires him

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of chronic pain and cancer, also i only know a little bit about feedings tubes, i tried to do research in order to make myself more familiar but if there’s a lot of inaccuracies or anything i am very sorry i’m gonna try my best

masterlist (one, two)

Corpse listened to his friends shouting at one another to accuse each other of being sus. As usual, there was no use in trying to get a word in. Corpse spoke so softly that no one would even hear him unless they wanted to hear what he was saying.

“(Y/N)!” Toast suddenly exclaimed. “You’re being very quiet right now.”

“Because my damn tube is mixed up in my headphone wires!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sounding like she was far away from her mic. The group chuckled and continued with their conversation about who they thought the imposter was.

(Y/N) was a known Twitch streamer and YouTuber that rose to popularity when she started a series on her YouTube channel to show her journey through cancer treatments. Long before his own sudden boom in popularity, Corpse had watched all of her videos and became invested in her Twitch streams as well. Being someone who also struggled with chronic illness and pain, Corpse felt a sense of hope watching (Y/N) go through her treatment and still seem to optimistic in life and so productive in her YouTube and Twitch channels.

When Toast messaged the Amigops group to ask if anyone wanted to join his Among Us lobby with (Y/N), Corpse jumped at the chance. He hadn’t had much time to speak with her alone, but he was hoping to be able to tell her how much watching her content lifted him up during his worst times.

The meeting ended with no one being voted and brought them back to the office of the Polus map. Since they were playing with proximity chat, the argument from the meeting immediately continued with Rae and Toast warning everyone to stay away from Sean, who they were susing at the second imposter after already voting out Charlie.

Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink astronaut run out of the office, silent amongst the chaos. He waited a moment before deciding to follow her, hoping he could meet her somewhere alone so he could talk to her.

He ran into O2 and noticed a pink bean in the boiler room stood by the water wheels. He ran in and stood in the doorway a moment before speaking.

“Hello (Y/N).”

“Ah fuck!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Corpse! Don’t scare me like that!”

Corpse chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll warn you next time.”

“Are you here to kill me?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m okay with that. I feel like being killed by Corpse Husband in Among Us is like a rite of passage at this point.”

Corpse slowly approached (Y/N) to which she quickly ran away from him to the other water wheel. He laughed again before assuring her, “I’m not an imposter, you can trust me.”

“I don’t think I can, but I will choose to trust,” she told him.

“I actually came looking for you because I wanted to talk to you.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

There were so many things running through Corpse’s mind. He just wanted to blurt out everything he had thought about (Y/N) and her story, to thank her for giving him hope, to tell her what an inspiration she was. But his words caught in his throat and he struggled to get anything out.

Finally, he said, “What’s it like trying to be a streamer with your...with the um...”

“The feeding tube?” (Y/N) finished for him. “You can say it, Corpse. It’s not exactly a secret.”

He sighed, glad that she had a joking tone about it. “Yeah, with the feeding tube.”

“It’s annoying,” (Y/N) admitted. “Like...I’m assuming you’ve seen my streams or my videos but for the sake of anyone watching your stream who hasn’t: I have a nasogastric feeding tube, or an NG-tube, which is a feeding tube that goes in through the nose. As cliché as it is, just picture Hazel Grace from the Fault in our Stars. Additional cliché, I have it because I had cancer and the treatments left me so malnourished that I need a feeding tube even after I’ve gone into remission. So, because it’s tubes that are connected in my nose, I keep getting my headphone wires tangled in my tube or, very rarely, my mic wires, and it’s fucking annoying. It hurts like a bitch when I go to stand up and I yank the wires  by accident or something.”

“Does...does anything else hurt? Because of the cancer or the treatment or anything?”

“Not as much as it used to. I went into remission like nearly a year ago, so I’m doing better. It’s a process, but it’s had an amazing outcome in the end so I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I find you really inspirational,” Corpse finally blurted.

He felt his face heat up with slight embarrassment as (Y/N) giggled. “You do?”

“Yeah. I followed your series about your recovery and I’ve watched some of your livestreams every now and then. What always stood out to me was when you talked about the negative side effects of your treatment, and eventually having to put the feeding tube in and how you’ve found that effects you, too. Being someone with chronic illness and constant pain, I’ve also had those days where it feels like even getting out of bed is too much work and I don’t feel like I can stream or make a video, but then my anxiety tells me that everyone is going to forget about me if I don’t make some type of content, so it’s just an internal struggle when really I should be resting.”

“Being a content creator and having an illness is tough,” (Y/N) agreed. “It feels like you can’t take a day off. I sometimes regret making that series because on days that I felt absolutely awful, I didn’t want to film or edit anything, but I felt like I had to because so many people were watching. Ironically enough, that became the topic of one of those videos; I just sat in front of my camera looking the worst I think I’ve ever looked on camera and talked about how exhausted I felt just from being alive, but felt like I couldn’t rest because of my channel. That’s when I started taking longer breaks between videos and streaming. Your fans won’t leave you, not the true fans anyways. They’ll always be by your side even if you decide to disappear from the Internet forever.”

Corpse half smiled to himself. “I’ve thought about doing that sometimes.”

“It’ll be easy for you to do that where you’re faceless. No one would bother you even after you left the Internet cause they’d have no idea it was you unless you spoke.”

A brief pause in their conversation caused them to hear Sean yelling as he ran past the room. (Y/N) giggled and walked out of the room. Corpse followed, hoping to continue the conversation somewhere else.

“It means a lot to me that you think that about me, though,” (Y/N) continued as she ran into the storage room. “I find you pretty inspirational too.”

This took Corpse by surprise. He didn’t know how to respond. Sure, he heard that all the time from his fans, and it always meant the world to him to know that people found him to be an inspiration, but it felt different to hear that from someone he had looked up to for so long.

“I wish I could’ve been a faceless creator like you,” she said when Corpse didn’t respond. “One of my biggest regrets is probably showing my face online. Although, it wouldn’t make sense for me not to show my face when I’m making a series about cancer treatment, but people can be mean. Even when someone is struggling with illness or a disease, the Internet doesn’t care. Whatever makes them feel better over someone else feeling like shit.”

“I still get a lot of hateful messages even though I’m faceless, though.”

“You do, but you’re so unbothered by it. Publicly anyways. When I get messages about how sickly I look I get so overwhelmed with sadness and I just wanna delete my channel forever. I can’t even fake not caring because it really does effect me.”

“Stick with me, I’ll teach you my ways. My favorite is trolling the troll.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “I’d like that a lot.”

Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink bean approach his black one. “I’m glad we had this chat, Corpse. It made me really happy, but now it also makes doing this a lot harder.”

Corpse gasped as a kill animation popped up on the screen and (Y/N)’s astronaut quickly disappeared into the nearby vent. He was stunned into silence for a long time, just watching his ghost floating above his dead body. To make matters worse, (Y/N) had closed the door to storage so no one would find his body unless they had to go in there.

Charlie’s ghost floated through the walls and came to float next to Corpse’s. “Figured out Jack wasn’t the other imposter, huh?”

“Yeah,” Corpse said, laughing. “She really had me fooled. Buttered me up with compliments then killed me.”

“I taught her well,” Charlie comments before floating away again.

Corpse couldn’t help but laugh about the situation. He wasn’t mad, more impressed than anything. And he was a little happy; he got to talk to someone that had always been an inspiration to him and he made a new friend.

[thefanficmonster]

An Impostor In Love

Sequel to ‘Love For The Faceless’ (’Body Reveal’)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing (maybe)

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Rae can’t stay mad at her best friends forever. Them being absolutely adorable doesn’t help her ‘pissed off’ act either. Y/N’s outing Corpse like she’s a human lie detector. Corpse is gushing about her every second word that comes out of his mouth. And the rest of the lobby are getting one hell of a kick out of the Among Us romantic comedy - An Impostor In Love

Requested but, once again, not in a typical way. I honestly wasn’t expecting all the positive feedback I got for Love For The Faceless (Body Reveal). I was star-struck! You guys are so amazing I have no words to describe just how much I love you all! Thank you for everything! This story is for all of you 🥰🥰🥰

“Mr. and Mrs. ‘Totally not dating’ have entered the call!“ Sean announces when I hop into the Discord call to play Among Us with the usual gang. I hear Corpse’s laugh from down the hall, bringing a smile to my face.

We’ve gotten used to playing in this arrangement, a few rooms away from each other, ever since we moved in together - Corpse is in his recording room and I am in our shared bedroom. When one dies, they go in the other’s room to troll them. I’m usually the one dead, but that’s besides the point.

“Hi everyone!“ I say in my typical cheery tone before kicking it done a few notches, making it an octave deeper just to say: “Hi Rae.”

The whole lobby laughs, they all know what I’m trying to do here. Everyone’s aware this is the first time Rae is in the same call and lobby as Corpse and I after you-know-which incident. Sure, I’ve been poking sticks at her, waving a white flag and admitting I was wrong several times by now. Who knew my sweetheart best friend could act so cold? I know it’s a front. I know she’s fighting to stay mad. There’s a ton of pressure on her to finally forgive us, but she’s been holding up better than I would be if I were in her situation.

I honestly felt, and still feel, slightly guilty. I know best friends are supposed to tell each other everything. They are supposed to be the first ones to know whatever’s going on in each other’s lives. And I know I broke one of the main rules of friendships, but the decision wasn’t only mine to make. I’m sure she understands where I’m coming from, she’s just giving me and Corpse a hard time.

“Hello, Y/N.” She replies, her tone strictly formal.

“Progress, people! Progress!“ I say joyously, the smile turning into a grin 

“Don’t worry, babe. We’ll get her eventually.“ Corpse reassures me as he’s done for the past week or two. He knew I wasn’t as unbothered by Rae’s anger towards me as I tried to appear - a pro and simultaneously a con of living with someone: they pick up on everything about you. You become as familiar to them as the back of their hand.

“I know, I know.“ I giggle, “She’ll cave.“

“Yeah, good luck with that.“ Rae has dropped the formal tone, now sounding like a stubborn child which is something I’m way more familiar with. I’ve dealt with her tantrums and childish outbursts - I don’t know which number it is, but it’s somewhere in the rule book of friendships - and I at least the approximate meaning behind it. 

Ken puts an end to our friendly, stick-poking, sorta one-sided banter, ushering us to start the game. We all oblige, muting our mics and getting our heads in the game as though we’re about to enter an actual warzone with upmost stealth.

To my dismay, the screen flashes ‘Crewmate’. I head out of cafeteria to do my task in Weapons, staying weary of anyone within my proximity. Once I’m done, I head on down to Shields and complete my task there as well. I cringe when I’m done, knowing my last three tasks are in Electrical. Like, the fuck kind of luck do I have?

I make my way through the halls, running into Sykkuno and we circle around each other a few times to show we’re safe before we each continue our own way. I enter Electrical and.....oh Felix is dead. And oh lookie who’s right there...

I report the body before the impostor can and we all unmute our mics.

“Found him in Electrical.“ I say nonchalantly, “Didn’t see anyone in there though.“ 

“Anyone sus?“ Sean asks

We say our ‘no’s and ‘I don’t know’s and skip the vote. I’m smirking to myself as I head back down to Electrical. Walking in, I see the same person as before - Rae. I stop dead in my tracks and we just stare at each other for a few seconds before she comes towards me, circling me twice, bumping visors with me and venting out of the room.

“You’re welcome.“ I mumble, smiling widely.

I finish my tasks and leave Electrical just as Corpse enters our bedroom, giving me this tired-parent look like he’s half disappointed and half amused. “You just threw the game, didn’t you? Don’t lie.” He raises his eyebrows, fully adopting his parent role.

I giggle, shaking my head, sending him the briefest of glances before my eyes fixate on the screen in utter shock - Sean just killed me. Oh, for fuck’s sake...

“I was gonna come clean eventually, but I guess they won’t hear it from me now.“ I shrug, lifting my laptop and setting it aside so Corpse can join me on the bed. I snuggle up to him immediately, drawn to him as though he’s a human magnet.

“Who was it?“ He asks me, running his hands through my hair in a soothing manner.

I frown, pulling away from his chest to look him in the eyes, “Wait, how did you know I threw the game if you don’t know who I threw it for?”

He smirks, shrugging, “I didn’t know. You were smiling downright evilly when I came in so I just assumed.” He boops my nose. “And you ratted yourself out.”

I narrow my eyes at him, blowing some air out my nose - a gesture that has become my only way of showing anger towards him. I literally can’t even voice when I’m upset with him cause the grudge lasts like .5 seconds. I let him get away with more than he should.

Seeing as how I can’t argue to his statement, I lean back into his chest and pull out my phone to pass the time while I pretend to give him the silent treatment. Among my notifications is one for Rae’s stream. I smile and tap it, being taken to her YouTube channel and her live stream.

Just when the stream loads, Rae finds my dead body in Storage.

“Oh, nooooooo! Y/N!“ She wines as she goes over to it, “Sean must’ve killed her.” She reports the body and unmutes herself in game, “The body’s in Storage. I was on my way to call an emergency meeting cause I saw Sean vent in Security.”

“WHAT?!“ Sean exclaims in shock, “I didn’t! Rae’s lying. I swear I didn’t! I wasn’t even in Security!“

“Sean has been following me around this whole time. Just saying.“ Ken joins the discussion, throwing even more suspicion on Sean.

“We gotta vote someone.“ Charlie says, “Might as well be the most sus person at the moment.“

The voting results show all the little astronaut icons on Sean except his which is on Rae. Sean gets launched into space and the game continues. Having muted her mic in-game, Rae speaks up: “Y/N has been avenged. No one kills my best friend.”

I’m staring at my phone screen, eyes wide, eyebrows raised, a huge smile on my face. I take a glance at Corpse out of the corner of my eye and see he’s just as pleasantly surprised as I am.

“For those of you asking if I’m still mad at her and Corpse, the answer’s no. Actually, I think I was never mad. I was just in shock and a little hurt that I wasn’t made aware sooner.“ Rae says as she keeps wandering around the map, “Then I realized not talking to my best friend hurt more than the betrayal, you know. The only reason I still pretend is because it’s really funny to see her trying to soften me up.“ She laughs, “But yeah. I don’t know what I’d do without her or Corpse in my life. I love them both and love them even more together. My best friends are dating, I still can’t wrap my brain around that! They are sooo cute, you guys! I wish they posted more content of them together. I’m literally simping over their relationship! But shh, don’t tell em I said that.”

I laugh, overjoyed by what I just heard. I knew she couldn’t still be mad at us. I know she has every right to be, but she’s too sweet to actually hold a grudge against anyone ever.

I suddenly want nothing more than to give her an enormous hug and hold onto her for as long as she’d let me. I just now realize how lonely it feels to have never hugged your best friend because you haven’t hung out together in person. The only reason Rae now knows what I look like is because I sent her a full body picture of myself as one of my sad attempts to get her to start talking to us again. We have never met in person, and that thought kills me. It makes me impatient for this pandemic to end even more than before. 

“Told you there was nothing to worry about.“ Corpse’s arms tighten their hold on my body, pulling me even closer which I didn’t know was possible. The most fulfilling and endearing feeling - being in the arms of a loved one. Being held so close and so tightly that you feel like you’re untouchable. Like you two can’t be hurt by anything in the world as long as you have each other.

“Yeah, you were right.“ I sigh in content, putting my phone down and covering his hands with mine, our rings clinking quietly when they touch.

“As usual...“ he whispers theatrically with his lips against my hair.

I playfully roll my eyes, catching glimpse of the screen showing Rae’s demise. 

“Oh no, they caught her.“ I say, a bit disappointed she didn’t win and more than a bit responsible for her defeat.

I somehow manage to convince myself to get untangled from Corpse’s embrace and join the new round. I hear him groan as I settle my computer in my lap, unmuting my mic.

“See ya, kitten.“ Corpse kisses my temple, standing up.

“Oh my God, you two are too cute.“ Poki says sweetly, having heard what Corpse said to me.

“SIMP!“ Sean and Felix shout in unison causing the whole lobby to laugh. Corpse is as red as Rae’s avatar as he exists our room, running down the hallway.

“Ok, ok, ok. Hold on. I have to address this. I really hadn’t stepped foot in Security, let alone vented in there. Rae why were you lying?“ Sean’s voice cuts through the teasing directed towards Corpse and I.

“While we’re on that topic...“ Felix speaks up as well, making me break out in a nervous sweat, “Y/N, you literally saw Rae kill me, but you said you didn’t see anyone.“ He laughs, “Not gonna lie, I was a bit pissed.“

The call falls silent for about five seconds until Rae and I speak simultaneously.

“I was avenging Y/N.“

“I was helping Rae.“

Silence follows our statements, not for long though, as our friends break out in amused laughter.

“Fuck’s sake, you two make a good team.“ Sean says through genuine laughter which Rae and I soon join him in.

Felix and Sean and the rest of the lobby forgive us for throwing the game from both the crewmate and impostor’s side and we move onto another round. This time I have only one task in Electrical which I leave for last as always. I don’t feel like dying right from the get-go. I start by doing the card swipe in Admin and then the fuel task in Storage. As I make my way to Upper Engine, Corpse leaves Electrical, falling in step with me. I immediately get nervous, but still make my way to where I’m supposed to go, hoping he’d go his own way eventually. 

I stay wary of my boyfriend as I do my task, praying he won’t take my head off. When the task is finished, I find I’m trapped in the room with the doors shut. And Corpse right there. With every right and opportunity to kill me and vent. No one would know. No one saw us. 

That nervous sweat is back. 

I’m counting my last seconds of being alive.

And it happens...

A body is reported

“Oh than you so so so much! Corpse was gonna kill me in Upper Engine!“ I don’t let the person who reported the body speak, thanking them for my survival. “I was sure I was a goner.“

“Babe, come on now. You know I wouldn’t kill you even if I was an impostor. I love you too much.“ Corpse hurries to defend himself, “I’m following you around to keep you safe.“

I can tell he’s capping, but I have no concrete proof. He knows I’m onto him. His best bet is having me killed by the other impostor. He might have been capping the majority of his defense, but I know he won’t kill me.

“I’ll vote for myself because of that one.“ I mumble

The vote is skipped except the one vote I placed on myself and the round continues. I follow Corpse around the whole time, making sure he’s completing tasks - not that I can be 100% certain he’s actually completing them.

All is well until we walk into Admin and find Felix there, uploading data. Corpse, dead-ass, goes up to him and kills him, reporting the body right afterwards.

“IT’S CORPSE!“ I don’t give him a chance to start his brainwashing of the rest of the players. “Felix, this is my redemption for leaving your death unavenged last round.“

“Yeah, it’s me.“ Corpse laughs, that adorable laugh of his melting me despite the need to stay strong and carry out my argument, “Just vote me out so I can go troll Y/N.“

“Sounds like a plan to me.“ Ken says, the remainder of the crewmates, and the impostor probably, agreeing with him.

The votes are put in, all on Corpse obviously, and he is sent off into space. Not even five seconds later I hear his footsteps approaching. 

I look up when he pops his head in the room and says, “I have come to annoy you to death with my love for you.”

I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head. The things this man does to me are insane. It’s insane that I let him. 

It’s amazing, really. We’re amazing.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I pat the spot on the bed next to me, “I’ll allow it. But only cause I love you too.”

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis

[biinaberry]

Demon Core

Statement number: #9460121, ‘Demon Core’. Statement of Researcher Tango T. Tek on a new research assistant. Obtained from an in person interview on March 09, 1946. Date of recording: April 17, 2019.

[Tango] "…There are two types of scientist. Those who work with a team, and those who work alone. I’m a part of the lucky, or unlucky, few who were given the opportunity to work on my own."

[Magmits is not a part of or associated with Hermit Archives] [Google Docs] [AO3] Editor: aroaceacacia

A series of fizzles echo through the microphone like an old television. The Curator is clearly heard, despite a slight muffling of the audio, as if the mic were hidden somewhere.

“Are there any possible leads that can be taken? Like prior recordings or cameras in the storage unit? It would be silly to assume it was me. Unless I somehow gained the ability to suddenly sleepwalk.” The Curator chuckles under her breath.

A crackling, staticky voice joins amongst the twangs of the microphone. “We already know you couldn’t have done it. The company did a thorough background check before hiring. [static] -anagement knows you couldn’t have done it. However, your seamstress portfolio was mighty impressive. Hopefully my copilot is checking camera footage as we speak and sending investigators to look over the cases.” Someone sips at a liquid, swallowing loudly, before a small clack signals they’ve set something down onto a counter. “The logs will probably be null and void since recordings are checked a day or two after they’re submitted.” So what can we do?” A metal chair screeches across the floor.

“There is no we in this statement.” The voice softens as it gets closer.   “You’re a Curator, you weren’t hired to play detective. Go back to verifying info and recording. You shouldn’t work a job you didn’t sign up for . Besides, this isn’t the first time someone stole from us.” The boss chuckles, a twiddling thing, as if they had lightning in their veins. ”However none of them ever expect  how  thorough we can get. They never get too far. While I, [static] -ment will work on this, you can go back to work.”

The Curator sighs, then hums idly. There’s a sound like a soft footstep and inhale of breath, and then the chair squeaks again. Clothing rustles as she stands and straightens. “Cleo.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for notifying us. Including the time at the end of the recording was also very practical. It’ll help with the timeline of things. You did good.” The air is stale, settling in its silence. It remains eerily unperturbed until a door thuds shut with a decisive click . ----------

Papers of various weights are shuffled across a desk space. The Curator takes a few sips of something, before putting it down on the desk with a clack - sounds ceramic.

“Following a few of my requests, management was able to give a list on what statements were already recorded.”

A paper is picked up. “One Pearl E. Moon took up the job of recording statements. Upon asking why she left in early 2012, the Boss said she just... ‘lost interest, gained a sense of paranoia’. Which isn’t a new thing, some people take their job way too seriously, but it started to affect her performance. Stuttering and constant retakes during recordings, and all that. It started to be too much for the company, so they let her go. Sad to see, because she was one of the better on-foot researchers that the company had prior to her job shift. Certainly had a way to get the information she needed out of others. Management didn’t see a need to immediately replace her, since all statements have been transcribed to new material and security does routine checks on the storage units.”

   “Which, I won’t lie, makes me question what makes the Curator job special, unless it is really just the merging of two jobs into one. …Maybe I should’ve asked them that when I had the chance, earlier.”

There’s a large, heavy thump, and some kind of crate or box slides across the desk and closer to the microphone. “Boss also preselected a new file for me, with artifacts attached. They felt bad about yesterday’s incident, so they decided to do some of the work for me.” A folder slaps onto the table, as if dropped. Fingers sift through papers, sliding them around and fanning them out, until one is picked up. The paper is shaken out straight and snapped into position.

“‘All papers and artifacts in this crate pertain to case file #9460121 ‘Demon Core’. The only exception being an older Geiger counter left in storage unit ISO- SP3. Notes have been sectioned off into different folders, color-coded, and labeled. Physicists who specialize in radioactive critical states have been hired to read through the statement giver’s notes and to give a condensed final copy for the statement reader’...I’m curious to see just how many notes were included for them needing to  condense  it. ‘All notes have been photocopied and scanned into the company’s databases, however the statement giver requested a way for them to still keep ownership over their research findings, as well as a way to remain anonymous. A deal has been settled that their name would be kept on all documents in our database, but would not be released publicly by us in conjunction with either the statement or their research, nor in association with our organization at all. All details, regarding both the statement giver’s personal information and the case itself, are classified and for the eyes of the Curator only. Any other employees of work site Maple do not have clearance to read this file beyond its name. They did give consent to the use of their name during an in-person interview with the site Maple Curator. As such, a copy of the original March 13, 1946 recording has been provided, as well as a transcript for only the Curator’s use.’ Why ask to be anonymous in the first place then?”

There’s a beat, before something hard is driven into the crate. Wood seems to splinter and protest, and the Curator exhales with effort, before it splits apart. Something small and metallic pings several places, and the Curator shrieks in surprise - “bloody nail,” she grumbles. Another beat. Fabric rustles, and flesh scrapes across the wood. “There’s one,” the Curator mumbles, and drops a massive file onto the desk. The thump echoes through the room. Another scrape. “There’s two.” Another thump. And again: and with each continuous thumping sound, the disbelief and pure astonishment in the Curator’s mutters of ‘oh god’ increasingly grows. “What the  hell  kinda experiments were they conducting to have five massive folders on just  research notes .” She takes another sip from her mug and exhales deeply. “Okay... Thank you management, holy shit.”

----------

“Cleo Zombie, Curator of work site Maple, record number: #9460121, case file ‘Demon Core’. Statement of Researcher Tango T. Tek on a new research assistant. Obtained from an in person interview on March 09, 1946. Date of recording: April 17, 2019.”

The soft whir of a winding tape accompanies the sips from the Curator’s cup. The tape stops winding, and the Curator presses a button with a click. The tape begins.

[Tango]

You sure this whole.. record-ificator you have there will be enough legal proof? I spent months on this work, murder wouldn’t be the only thing on the table if I lose ownership of this.

[Curator]

You submitted an audio log with your notes. It’s enough. If you believe a bunch of paper and restoration workers will find a use for plutonium research, I’ll see if Lily can print out a physical contract.

[Tango]

Fine... actually please do, that would make it easier. I don’t want this getting out.

[Curator]

It won’t. You came here with an encounter or story with a-?”

[CLICK. NOTES ARE TAKEN.]

[Tango]

-- Research assistant, a new one.

[Curator]

“ It’s always the new ones … Okay! Statement of one…?”

[CURATOR SHOVES THE MICROPHONE IN FACE. IMPACT AND GRUNT. FUZZ.]

[Tango]

Tango T. Tek.

[Curator]

On a new research assistant! The day is March 09, 1946, coming to you live from work cite Maple. You may begin your tale, o fortunate victim.

[Tango]

…There are two types of scientist. Those who work with a team, and those who work alone. I’m a part of the lucky,  or unlucky , few who were given the opportunity to work on my own. Flying solo the entire time like a newborn bird. Could have been because my whole job could vaporize anything and everything into a new breed of mutant, but that’s neither here nor there.

I work with plutonium, nasty stuff if someone doesn’t know what to look for. The line between safety and certain death is a… delicate one, to say the least, and sadly, we’d already seen the worse of those two outcomes. My company didn’t want another outbreak again, even though it was on the contract. But it’s a little easier to be safe, when you’re working alone. Fewer people to consider, right?

Then the boss came down all ‘we got some news for you’ and I was terrified that all of my funds were just ripped for me. Oh it was  worse  . They surpris-ificated me with a lab assistant! Which you know  should be a good thing, but I had this whole system. And trying to teach that to someone who isn’t yourself is more pain than it’s worth. So I’m dreading it, my brain’s dreading it, I could hear the screams coming from my lab as she’ll probably get rearranged.  

[pauses]  Uh- oh wow I made it sound like the new guy was horrible- he wasn’t. We. We got into a rhythm...eventually.

It wasn’t until a week later that I was actually able to meet him for the first time. I could only describe him as average, in an American sense. He wore a typical white lab coat, a brown cardigan, and blue jeans. That cardigan…! He always had the top two buttons undone, and he never wore an undershirt, did you know that? It seemed a little unprofessional to me!... but I was wearing an unzipped vest myself, so the same could be said for me. His hair was like clouds, light and fluffy. Bright yellow, like the fields of wheat on my old drive to work. Tightly curled in the front but more wavy in the back. Unreal, in how perfect it was. Didn’t realize that fact until we were walking to my lab.

He introduced himself; where he got his degree (Britain), prior lab experience (also Britain), jobs, the usual. “Call me Zed,” he said with a smile and an actual twinkle in his eye. His eyes… I swear, every time I looked at them they changed color. When I first entered the room his eyes were a dark blue, that weird shade where you can have a whole debate on if it could be classified as blue or purple? Yet, when I shook his gloved hand (purple with yellow palms, so bright they hurt to look at), his eyes were a light brown. His face was covered in freckles, like stars and constellations. They were against a tan canvas; overall he looked like he’d spent a lot of time in the sun. He also had two hair clips on the left side of his face to keep his bangs out, both black. The boss led him down to my lab and that's when I got a good look at the rest of him, and it really struck me that he was off for a British person. He was about 6’5, or maybe 6’4. That’s an estimate using my boss as a reference - he’s six foot. It also didn’t help that the new guy was either nearly or fully a head taller than me. There was no way  I was self conscious of my own height, nope, no way, not at all. I’m a very proud and regal 5’7, okay!

… Anyways. When we made it down to my lab, lucky old 27, I showed him the basic layout. The left side of the room was for the active experiments, the right side was used for completed experiments, and storage for all the research. The left wall was covered in counters, and dials, charts, and levers, versus the right, which had multiple filing cabinets, all meticulously labeled. Stuff like “Experiments 1-15”. I know I know. Very descriptive, I’m a naming master. But the most important part of the room was the Geiger counter in the top left corner of the room. It sat right next to the viewing window used to keep track of the experiment chamber.

Once I’d shown Zed around the place, it was time to get to work...Have I described the exact nature of the experiment yet? We’re researching Biology, its effect on the body, all that typical jazz. Place the subject in the testing room, push the plutonium until a desired amount, stop the experiment, repeat with the next batch. I’ll admit it, my tests aren’t the most.. ethical. Outsiders call it torture, but that pales in the pursuit of science. Just..don’t tell the board and we’re a-okay. We.. have an understanding. To help Zed get settled in, we did a trial run. I tested the equipment as normal, put the subject in the chamber, started the experiment, and documented it. Been doing it for four months now, so nothing new. I gave Zed the task of documenting the results at the bottom left side of the room, by the dials and charts. I would look over the test subjects and the Geiger counter at the top left side of the room, easy enough. Every 20 seconds I would mark down the number on the counter and when it reached over my marked capacity or ten minutes had passed, I would shut it off.

Tell me how, after just two minutes, the counter was click click clicking like it was the end of the world! I checked all the readings and it seemed that if the experiment were to continue, it would generate an effective radiation dose of around 1500 rem - over three times what should have been expected! I was scrambling to shut down everything! I looked like a headless chicken from how quickly I was running to turn it off. I whipped my head toward Zed to see if he saw it as well, and he was as still as a statue! Almost like he was made of stone, before the widest smile I’d ever seen on a person spread-ificated on his face and he  burst  into laughter, just  gasping  like he were a man drowning. “Is that supposed to happen?” he asked.  [mocking]  “Supposed to happen?” Of course not! I’d only ever have the counter that high if I were trying to see how fast I could kill a person!

I quickly informed the boss so we could evacuate the lab building. I didn’t want any more heads put on my platter. We had some specialists in hazmat suits check the building. A group of ten. No matter how hard they looked or how long they checked, they found nothing wrong. No radiation leaks, no plutonium monsters, no nothing. So now I   look like the bad guy, because I interrupted everyone’s work for nothing! I tried telling them the plutonium was acting up, the numbers were way too high, but they laughed it off. Told me to keep a better eye on it,  rude  . When we were finally able to enter the lab again a week later, I was checking every piece of machinery meticulously. Every nook and cranny, every bit and bolt. But nada, zip, nothing! I couldn’t find a  single  reason for why the values were multiplied! Sad to say that subjects 1 through 20 from batch C had to be removed from further testing. While they won’t be of any use for Alvarado, they became an experiment of their own. We placed them in a separate control room, to monitor how they were affected by the much higher dose of radiation they received. Of course, radiation poisoning was to be expected, but  what else  might happen? It felt like new ground. Still, the accident had left me a bit shaken, and I took a few days of sick leave.

Two days passed before I brought myself to resume the experiment. I checked the equipment as usual and no defects could be found. I placed the next batch of subjects into the test chamber and started again. All was going the same for the first two minutes, but at 2:47 minutes, the counter went bonkers again! Hundreds of milliroentgen! Shut everything down, checked the charts, double checked with Zed, started it over. Nearly the same result, but this time we had to worry about even more milliroentgen, and it started alerting us at  3:15  , instead! And again, we repeated it, with new results - and again and again and again. This repeated for  two weeks . The length of time for the counter to go off and the amount of milliroentgen kept changing.

Normally in an experiment, you’d expect the results to be a little different each time, because it’s the job of the scientist to read between the lines and find the pattern. But here’s the thing. There was no pattern! I was losing my mind! I had no team to bounce theories off of, and there was no way Zed knew what was happening, because he had no clue how the experiments should be running. It didn’t feel real. I thought, “maybe it’s the equipment?” I got the boss to almost fully replace everything in the lab. Wiring, lights, counters, hell even new Geiger counters! The only thing he wouldn’t replace was the happy fun time rock - ah, the plutonium. Still a little bitter over that.

By that point I’d been at it for two months, hundreds of subjects wasted and many deceased from the radiation. I was just about to give up. Sure, I got notes on higher levels of radiation, but none of it made  sense ! My research should have time and radiation as our constant - all of the specimens would be exposed to a specified level for the same lengths of time - but  now neither were independent! All batches were exposed to levels far exceeding their assigned so we had to shut it down! None of what I was getting could be used for my prior work at all! All of my research was on varying levels of exposure and its effect on the body. Each batch of specimens had a level of radiation assigned, and then each batch was further divided into subgroups based on how many times they would experience that radiation. All of my prior batches had to stop the day Zed joined, because I couldn’t risk tampering with those results.

Realizing none of this could be used, that I had spent months spinning in place with nothing but inconclusive, nonsensical results to show for it, was my breaking point. When I entered the lab, I planned on creating a new thesis or research statement, because my current one was going to be on permanent vacation. Yet, when I got into the lab, a small note was at my desk. Apparently Zed called the boss, said he would be out for the day. Car troubles. It would just be me again. I can do that.

…When I tell you everything ran perfectly. It. Ran. Perfectly. No random spikes, no sudden time differences, everything was  exactly how I wanted it.  How it had been  before . I won’t lie, I almost cried. Sadly batches A1 through Z1 had to be rejected, stuck to only the ‘analysis’ part of the experiment, but it’s better than nothing at all!

[DESPERATE, WHEEZY LAUGHTER. IT TRAILS OFF INTO BREATHING.]

I was so happy to start again that I didn’t even question  why until I got home… When your entire job is based around logic, you don’t think about a person being responsible. It’s.. unimaginable in a sense,  especially  in this context. But there I was, sitting on my couch drinking coffee contemplating if  Zed  was the reason! You understand, I am nothing if not a scientist. I needed more data. So I held my belief for the next day.

As I entered the lab, Zed was standing there, filing papers away. He turned and smiled, that awful smile with his stupid shiny teeth, and then he apologized for missing work the day prior. His eyes were gold this time. I said it’s alright, accidents happen, and besides, I was able to advance the experiments. God.. he was  so happy when I said that, and it made me feel ill. Something about him hurt to look at. The sight of his neon-bright gloves alone gave me a headache. He ran to the filing cabinet and picked up his glasses, clipboard and two pens.

“So we’re starting a new batch? Says here we’re moving to batch A3 through Z3.” This was my opportunity to test my hypothesis from the night before. I confirmed, and told Zed I’m going to watch over the experiment this time around; an inversion of our usual roles, though I didn’t tell him that. I asked him to check the test subjects, to make sure each batch contained precisely 40 subjects. He saluted, like a soldier, and said “Ay ay, Captain!” before leaving the room.

As predicted, without Zed, the experiment ran smoothly. Ten minutes passed before I heard Zed call out my name, asking if he could come in. I agreed. When he entered the room, I looked at the counter: it clicked 5 marks higher. I took a deep breath and gathered my courage before turning to smile at Zed. I told him to stand next to me. My heart followed the beat of his footsteps. Five, ten, twenty, fourty - the counter kept clicking higher and I could feel the sweat gather on the back of my neck - eighty, one-twenty, my heart hammering against my chest. A bird trapped, fluttering and fighting in its cage before I could feel his shadow fall over me. Four hundred and sixty milliroentgens per hour. I couldn’t stop staring at the counter. Zed’s hand came to rest on my shoulder. It was warm. Four-seventy, his other hand reached past me, four-eighty, his face inched forward (bright purple eyes), four-ninety, his hand touched the counter.

The glass shattered. The counter’s needle flew by my head, hitting the wall and clattering to the ground. My ears rang. My vision blurred, focused on the broken machine, its screaming death rattling my brain like a smacked metal tin. I couldn’t think. I turned to look at him. Zed smiled, his eyes a kaleidoscope of colors, green to purple to yellow to blood red. He tilted his head to me, teeth as sharp as blades and freckles that glow like stars. He looked like he was made of radium. His hand retreated back to my shoulder and I felt it, somehow, at the base of my spine. Ringing. I can’t feel my hands. Ringing. I can’t feel my feet, only my eyes and my ears. Ringing. “Oh~ What a pity. Thought this one would work .” His voice melted. I was helpless to listen. “There’s no time for that now. There’s experiments to be done.” Somehow, he didn’t sound unkind. Fingers grasped the back of my neck, pulling me away from the machine.

…I don’t know how I got home that day. I don’t remember. The moment he took his hand off my back, I blacked out and woke up on my couch drinking coffee. I never felt so out of  control , I -

[SILENCE. SOFT BREATHING.]

Well, now I know how it feels to be the rat in the maze… What do I do now? I still work with him, we still do our experiments. You know, I had to get glasses? My eyes haven’t worked quite right ever since… Sorry, I don’t know how to finish this with a nice bow.

[Curator]

You don’t need to. ----------

A rattled click concludes the end of the tape. The Curator huffs, and takes a large drink of whatever she has in her glass.

“Let’s all agree that that statement was insane. Surely, it’s just the ramblings of a mad scientist who’s not gotten the results he wanted. But, there  is  this crate -” she smacks the crate on her desk “-  and  the apparent broken Geiger counter in storage, so there has to be  some truth to his claim. … Ah, right! The statement summary. ”

“‘Mr. Tango T. Tek was living in his New Mexico home with his housemate, Nathan “Impulse” Stewart-Voss, an electrician for the same company. Mr. Stewart-Voss reported Mr. Tek went missing on March 19st when he didn’t return home from work for two days. Sadly after the initial investigation from March 21st to 25, Mr. Stewart-Voss also went missing on the 27th. Neither of them were found again. After police checked their home, multiple notebooks were found scattered across the floor, all containing different formulas, messages, and diagrams. Only a small handful of the notebooks were deciphered, but those that were had variations of  ‘Yes?’, ’Where?’, ‘He’s Here’, ‘Where is He?’, ‘Tango’, ‘A deal’s a deal’ and various forms of legible smiley faces. From the images, a vague shape of a map was found. The trail ended at a dug up hole in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Investigators excavated a 20 ft by 20 ft by 10 ft deep square; however, nothing was recovered. Eventually, all pursuits to find the two dwindled down, as no new information could be found.”

“Attempts have been made to find Mr. Zed, but the search has been null as well. The Curator did provide the research team a possible location in New Mexico based upon an off handed comment Mr. Tek said prior to the recorded interview. Seeing as no other leads were found the team got to work and started to ask around the specified area. Even with a description of the man, a possible name, and a photograph; every manager has denied the existence of such a man and investigators have been told to leave. The conclusion was that Zed was a false name. No new information has been found out regarding the case in general.”

“Mr. Tek’s research deals with the overarching hypothesis of ‘does varying levels of radiation effect biology?’” A sheet of paper rustles, as if the Curator were putting the statement summary aside. “ However  , this paper so far fails to mention specifically  what biology he is testing with. Rabbits, rats, humans, who the hell knows. If I had to make a guess, based upon his talk with Zed about checking batches, I’m going to assume rats or rabbits. Surely, if 40 humans per batch went missing,  somebody would notice.”

The flapping of paper is heard as the Curator mutters a curse, pushing her chair back to pick something up from the floor.

“‘Within this folder is a selection of photographic artifacts related to Mr. Tek’s statement. All photographs have a handwritten comment on the back, written in black ink. Refer to the given chart for each photograph by number and description.’”

“‘Photos 3/8: Abnormal Spots.’ After the encounter with Mr. Zed, Mr. Tek informed the Curator that he started to experience an almost.. tingling feeling on his shoulders. As if ‘there was electricity in my veins’ to copy his words. When getting ready to go to bed, he noticed a faint glowing on the mirror to his right. Upon turning he noticed that his shoulders and sides were glowing underneath his shirt. After freaking out, he used a camera to start taking photos of himself. When the Curator asked why he instantly went to taking photos, he replied ‘We’re scientists, we document everything.’” He also believed the spots came from standing right next to Mr. Zed. Showing regret in the fact he didn’t think of the consequences for said action.”

“The spots continued to spread down his spine and onto his hands. He informed the Curator that they would shift between shades of white, yellow, and orange in no particular order or duration. The most pressing one is on the back of his spine and left hip, where they appear to have the shape of a massive handprint. Alongside the photos of the spots, he included one from a year prior. Stating it as proof that the spots were a recent development. The spots are absent in the last photo.”

“‘Photos 11/17: Lab Reference. Photos taken by Mr. Tek on February 12, 1946.’ The company’s manager wouldn’t allow outsiders access into the building unless they’re a part of the company. As a work around Mr. Tek took photos of the lab as a reference point as he told the story and a way to preserve the lab in case items got rearranged. The photos included all four walls of the lab, a large table on the right side of the room, and the broken Geiger counter. Along the left wall are multiple counters and dials as he described, the viewing window for the experiments and the Geiger counter. The front wall contains a giant whiteboard covered in notes with printed charts, and filing cabinets hug the right wall. Mr Tek did chuckle over feeling the Geiger counter photos were a bit pointless after he and Mr. Stewart-Voss simply took the counter once management planned to replace it.

“‘Photos 1/2: Subjects. Two photos containing both Mr. Zed and Mr. Tek’. The first is a candid shot of Mr. Zed and Mr. Tek in a hallway. Mr. Zed’s hand is around the small of the other’s back. Mr. Tek’s head is turned to the left, enough where you can see his nose, eyes and a little bit of his smile. Both are holding food in their left hands, I  think  hotdogs but I can’t be sure.”

“The second phot-  oh .. Holy shit- I um- the second photo is a formal view of the two infront the viewing window. Mr. Tek is on the right while Mr. Zed is on the left. Nothing of note is to be said about Mr. Tek, but Mr. Zed on the other hand… well. He makes a convincing Witch of the West. They’re both smiling, but with how squished Mr. Zed’s cheeks are, you shouldn’t be able to see his whole eye. Yet- god, is there  no shading in his eyes?  They’re entirely white, except for his black irises. There’s no gradient either, it’s  fully black. His hand also appears to melt around Mr. Tek’s hip. It’s hard to tell but his fingers clearly shift into the same grayish white of the other’s lab coat as if he fused with it. Right behind Mr. Tek’s head appears to be almost.. another Zed.”

“His face is slightly blurry and transparent, however a smile and one eye are clearly visible. It almost looks like that one ghost photo done by..” The Curator snaps her fingers while tapping the desk. “God who wa-Corbert! That was the person! Yeah the ghost photos done by Corbert. He has that blurry texture around him while still being almost..  too clean in spots. The head is tilted to the left with a wide smile on his face, stretched like putty. His hair seems to fade away near the edges until it blends perfectly with the glass. I would pin this as being simply long exposure if it weren’t for the fact that it mentions it was a snapshot photo done to commemorate a week of working together. The figure is also holding something behind Mr. Tek’s back. It’s large and rectangular in shape, maybe undeveloped film, yet you can see the shadow of the box against the glass. It might be a book, because I see a spine with some form of letters on it. Wish I could make it out more clearly, but I’m missing a magnifying glass... ”

“With that, Curtains Close, End Statement.”

----------

The picture warbles as it’s placed on the table. The Curator sighs before the sounds of the chair lightly scratching against the floor.

“That photo spooked me more than it has any right to…” The light sound of skin slapping skin is picked up before the Curator groans.

“It’s just a photo, a blink and you miss it moment, but I  can’t  miss this. There’s too much evidence proving that that was  real. A genuine experience and.. I don’t know what that means moving forward.” Ceramic slides against the desk as the microphone hears light sips from it before silence airs throughout the room. Broken only by the chair screeching back from sudden movement.

“I’m just gonna.. walk that off, I need to check storage anyway. What unit was it anyways?... SP3. Got it.” The lock clicks as the door opens. Hinges whining as it slowly closes behind the Curator.

“With how many storage units there are, it’s easy to get lost, I feel. All the different labels, how many turns you take, might even call it a maze. So the boss-” She chuckles. “-gave me a horribly doodled map pointing to its holding box. They mentioned that every month the counter gets a cleaning and touches on its finish to help preserve both the original look of the counter as well as make sure the rust doesn’t spread.”

The storage unit keys jingles as it’s picked up. Slowly being carded down the key loop as the Curator mutters under her breath. “Come on..  Come on.   One of you- god. I’m going to  kill management bef-  ” The lock clicks and the door’s hinges whine as it’s opened. “ Gotcha .” The Curator steps through the door before belining it to the back of the unit. Footsteps clicking on the floor as if she was marching to a beat. The footsteps abruptly stop before quickly resuming once again.  A shutter door is flung open, the metal rattles unused to such force.

“Oh well. The counter is certainly still here! Would probably lose it if this..  surprisingly large Geiger counter also went missing under my watch. It’s maybe… 4 or 5 feet long? And a width of about 1 foot. The exterior paint is dark green however with how heavily chipped it is, I think less than a half of the counter is still painted. There are massive fissures in the metal radiating from the cracked dial, as well as a few holes. Despite Mr. Tek’s best efforts he could not find the needle that broke off, even after scavenging the whole lab…”

“Management also failed to mention the handprints on the barrel of the counter? Unless those were a part of the original design… either way I’ll let the Boss know. Besides the forgotten fingerprints, nothing else is out of shape. I’ll head back to the office an-” A sharp fizzle cuts out the audio, it pulses for a minute before it slowly starts to dissipate. The Curator’s voice slowly comes back into frame midway through an apparent ramble.

“-I don’t know how I feel about this whole supernatural deal. I mean- It’s a massive breakthrough for sure, but I was expecting more unicorns and fairies. You know, the fun and safe kind that helps you in times of need, not  a man who can break Geiger counters.  I’m still not over that! What else is out there? Does he  know about us? He sure as hell didn’t like Mr. Tek giving out information. Or was that caused by something completely different, like.. paranoia or a sudden spark of mania?”

The Curator sighs, rasping her fingers against a wooden object. “I’d like to ask the Boss a few more questions.”

[tooweirdforyou]

Top 5 OP Boys Best to Comfort You

Whether it’s because you’re sad, stressed, etc.

A/N : please enjoy. I apologize if it’s not great.

Summary : the top five boys, in my opinion, that would be best at comforting, I guess.

-

5. Red-Haired Shanks

— sorry, but Shanks wouldn’t be able to give a proper hug. Jokes aside, Shanks is a nice, playful and light-hearted guy who will get down to business if needed. He’s so understanding and if he sees that you’re feeling stressed or anxious about something, he’d immediately offer you a drink but if not, he’ll pull you to a private room and just sit you on the bed to talk. Nothing else.

You’re sitting in his lap as he rubs smooth circles on your back and letting you sit there and rant but if you don’t want to talk, then silence it is. He’ll keep ensuring you that you’ll be okay. If you ever need anything, Shanks will make sure you get it.

“If you ever need anything, I’m right here, darling. I’m always available by your side, no matter what.”

-

4. Vinsmoke Sanji / God Usopp

— this was difficult so I decided to put both.

— Sanji loves and cares for everyone deeply, even Zoro, so obviously he cares about you. When he finds you crying one day, he’s quick to jump by your side and make sure you’re alright and not in any pain. When you bury yourself into his arms and chest, he’d blush a little before remembering that this was serious and lift you up bridal style, closely to him.

He’d carry you to the kitchen instead of a bedroom and place you down at the table before going over to the kitchen area and ask what you want to eat or drink. Even if you refuse, he still makes something in hopes it’ll cheer you up and offers to listen while he prepares it. When he’s done, it’s in front of you and you find yourself enjoying it with Sanji watching with a warm smile, holding your free hand in his across the table.

“My Angel, let me have the honor of being the warmth and care you need.. I’m sorry this is happening to you. I’m right here with open arms, [Name]-chan. Trust me. It’ll get better.”

— Usopp, this boy would make panic and look to see if you’re hurt then would repeatedly ensure you that a protective strong warrior is there to protect you. After all jokes are made, Usopp turns solemn and is sitting in front of you, cross-legged and gently asking if you’re willing to share, so he can help.

His eyes are glossed with sadness in them and glassy with tears from your mental pain and stress. First, Usopp would make light jokes and lies to help pull you from the dark place and to lighten the mood. But then, he starts to hold your hand and assuring you that nothing was fair and it’ll be hard and stressful and cause lots of pain, but, it WILL subside. It’ll go away sooner than you think and that you will be okay, because Usopp knows what it’s like. He eventually got out and Usopp will be right by yourself to get you out.

“It’s difficult.. you feel like everything’s crashing down on you and you just can’t handle it.. I get it.. but [Name].. you have to believe it’ll get better! I promise it will! And I, God Usopp, will be right there beside you when you do.. I promise.”

-

3. Marco The Phoenix

— He immediately knows something is wrong when you’re being distant from him so he’d confront you. He’d tell you to meet him on the main deck late at night and when you show up, he’s standing there and kneels down away from you. He’d tell you to get on and before you could react when you did, he’s immediately jumping and now soaring into the sky, flying in circles above the ship with you on his back.

You’re holding onto him tightly and as much as you are scared, you’re actually enjoying it which makes Marco smile before finally questioning you and your distance lately. You’re quiet before you finally admit the truth, Marco listening intently as he flies around calmly. When you tell him about your troubles and anxieties, Marco is calm and he just has the softest smile you’ve ever seen.

“So that’s what it is-yoi..” he would fly for a bit longer before going down gently onto the deck and set you down. Marco isn’t one for hugging, especially not an open area like the deck, but that’s what he does, only for a quick second. He takes your hand in his and gently kissed the back of it. “[Name]-yoi, you should have just came to me..” he leads you to his room and sets you down on the bed and sits beside you, laying you down.

“Feel free to cry, rant or sleep. I won’t judge you, all of us have been through these rough times.. it’s hard-yoi.. but, we’re in this together. So next time, just come to me, okay-yoi?”

-

2. Donquixote Rosinante / Corazon

— His long limbs and tall body, ROSI IS PERFECT to have by your side when you need comforting. Rosi would take a bit of time to realize something is wrong, especially when he’s gone for so long. The day he is finally coming home, he calls you up like usual and asks how you’re doing.

He would be so happy and cheery that he nearly misses the quiet sniffle and quiet, sad tones in your voice when you talk and it breaks his heart and makes him panic. Obviously when he asks, you tell him it’s because you’ve been feeling lonely, since Corazon has been gone for so long. You just want to be in his arms and feel at ease and safe.

Rosinante’s crushed heart is slowly swelling with warmth and love at your confession and just then, the door opens. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m home then, [Name].”

You would be in such shock that you didn’t notice him standing by the doorway with his arms spread and ready for you to hug, which you quickly do. You’re running to him at full speed and jumping onto his tall body, with his long arms quickly wrapping around your torso tightly and he’d fall onto the ground to sit you on his lap.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks rather quickly and you just grip the fabric of his shirt in your hands and bury your face in his chest.

“I’m sorry for not coming home sooner.. Work took longer than expected..” his smile softens as he closed his eyes and pets your hair, securing you closer. “But no worries, my love. I’ll be with you from now on. I’m not going anywhere, unless it’s with you.”

-

1. Monkey D. Luffy

— I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Luffy is one of the best captains ever because he OBSERVES. he’s a huge dumbass, strong as fuck dork and just a weird playful kind of guy who cares and would do anything for his family and crew, so underneath all of that is a observing, self-conscious and sweet kind of person that you would die for honestly.

Luffy knows something wrong immediately but can’t exactly pinpoint it, he just knows that you aren’t yourself. But overtime, he realized that you’re dealing with a lot of personal pain and it kind of destroys him. Is he failing as a captain? As a friend? Figuring it was a personal problem, Luffy waits until you’re alone at night and walks up to you.

You see him and greet him until he walks up close and stands there. And then, he raises his arms and hugs you. Tightly. He stretches his arms to double loop them and just stands there with his arms around you in silence.

You’re stunned, about to laugh it off and pull away when his voice reaches your ears.

“[Name]. It’s okay. You can cry. No ones around to judge you. You can let it out now. In front of me.”

Though you were shocked, all the built up stress and pain you’ve been storaging suddenly breaks at those words and you find tears dripping down your cheeks from your eyes. Many falling much faster than the previous ones before you’re sobbing into his shoulder, standing there with Luffy hugging you silently, his hat lowered to cover his eyes.

“Never..never forget that I.. we are here for you, [Name].”

-

A/N : you guys I want to write a comfort fic but I don’t have the energy to do so, so can someone please recommend me some comfort fics? :/

[bokettochild]

Tired Feet and Nimble Fingers

Sooo.....

I wrote more Ravio fics. This is one of two, the second one still needs to be reread and checked for errors, but rest assured to whomever requested a fic for Ravio getting some fussing, I nearly killed the kid for you :)

Mr. Hero had nice hands.

Oh sure, they were rather thin, and a bit knobby at the knuckles, aged in a way most people their age would not understand for decades yet, but they were nimble, quick, and forever flitting from one thing to another with the easy grace of a person who’s done everything with their life except sit still and rest.

Mr. Hero’s hands were worn and aged but feather light in their touch and still impossibly firm when he’d grab Ravio by the scarf and pull him down the one inch that was between the two of them so he could glare at him for one thing or another. Honestly, he rarely really did anything questionable, but the ever irritated “Why?” that Mr. Hero always shot at him when he raised the price of an item or tacked on another fee, be it emotional repercussions charges for tending his wounds, or a petty increase when he’d been made to actually worry for someone else, or even in the rare instance when Mr. Hero managed to actually make him angry. Either way, soft or firm, Mr. Hero had nice hands, and on the rare instance Ravio had actually seen him remove his rings (Mr. Hero had complained of swelling, and had nearly had to pry them off) he always smiled at the sight of them.

Was that weird? Probably. But there was a lot you could tell about a person by their hands, and Mr. Hero’s told the story of someone who gave and fought for others since he’d been able, and even if the caring person hid behind the shadows of his bangs or the icy pain in his eyes, Ravio knew that person was still in there.

And at times like this, he got to actually see it.

“What are you doing?” The merchant shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at the other end of the couch where Mr. Hero had been sitting since he’d stumbled through the door with a tired groan. He’d collapsed onto the couch not long after, drenched and covered in mud, and it had been all Ravio could do to convince him to shed his extra layers and change into something clean, at least. Sure, he’d had to actually dig through the scant wardrobe in the bedroom to find something, but once the over-sized tunic had been shoved in the veteran hero’s face, he’d agreed to strip off his wet things, and Ravio had given him the space to do so while he’d made some warm cocoa for the two of them.

He would have preferred cider, but Mr. Hero still refused to share the recipe with him.

Now, however, he’d flopped onto the couch himself, uncaring for the fact that he’d had to settle his legs in the lap of his friend. After all, if Mr. Hero minded, he would have pushed him off. As was though, the pink-haired teen was staring at his feet with no small amount of displeasure, and Ravio was half considering pulling them back to himself and resigning himself to just curling up on the couch into one corner so he could give the other boy his space.

Firm hands latched around his boot, tugging with a small grunt and surprising the merchant greatly. “Mr. Hero, I just-”

“No shoes.” The pink-haired hero huffed. “Not on the couch.”

“Says the one who trudges dirt all over my freshly cleaned floors!” Ravio huffed, trying not to wiggle too much as Mr. Hero not only pulled off his shoes but, after making a disgusted face at the smell of his feet, had also yanked his socks off, throwing them over to the pile of sopping laundry on the floor. Ravio made a note to pick that up and help wash it later.

“My floors.” Mr. Hero corrected him, tugging the towel Ravio had given him earlier off of his shoulders and wiping its wet ends over the merchant’s feet, making him stiffen. “It’s my house I’ll have you know.”

“Mr. Hero, are you- are you cleaning my feet?”

“It’s not like you ever do it, when’s the last time you bathed, you filthy bunny?”

“Two days ago.” Ravio huffed into his cocoa, savoring the taste and the thrum of warmth that bloomed in his chest both at the drink and the sensation of Mr. Hero’s nimble fingers helping to clean the grime from his, admittedly, filthy feet. “More recently than you, I daresay, Mr. Hero.”

“I just showered.” Violet eyes flitted up to meet his as Mr. Hero motioned to the door ad likely the stormy weather outside.

“That doesn’t count!”

“It does for me.”

“When did you last bathe? With soap?”

Mr. Hero didn’t answer, instead continuing to rub the dirt and dust off the bottoms of his house-mate's feet with the wet towel. Ravio hmphed. A fight for another day then, it isn’t as if he had the energy to draw a bath and push his friend into it anyways.

A delightful, rough sensation rubbed over the base of his foot, firm and still somehow incredibly relaxing, and the bunny merchant found himself torn between sinking into the cushions with a sigh as some of the pain in his limbs faded and staring down at Mr. Hero to see what had been done. In the end, he’d sunk into the cushions of the couch, lids fluttering as a heavy sigh pulled itself from his lungs. “What-”

“You’re as tight-string as my gran’s horses.” Mr. Hero drawled, and the sensation repeated itself, warm pressure sliding across the ridge of his foot. “This used to work on my uncle, relax.”

It took longer than necessary to actually realize that his friend was rubbing his feet, but Ravio was too warm and comfortable to really care, especially with how sore the appendages in question had been with scurrying here and there over the last few days tending to the shop.

Mr. Hero’s hands were miracle workers, and Ravio was hardly even awake when the veteran hero had finally stopped with his self-assigned task, pushing himself up and leaving Ravio to stretch out over the length of the couch. All the merchant could register was the increase of weight on top of him, the clinking of two empty mugs being placed in the kitchen sink, and the door creaking open.

He never felt the draft when Mr. Hero left back into the outside world to continue his quest, but when he woke the next morning, it was to find the hero’s favorite blanket spread out over the top of him and a fresh pair of fuzzy socks slipped over his clean and no longer painfully tense feet.

“Ravio, sit.” Mr. Hero groaned, leaning back on the couch and pinned in place by the sailor using his legs as a back rest. “If you don’t, I swear I’m going to have Twilight throw you at the couch!”

The merchant in question pouted, he’d been trying his best to tidy the living room, after all, Mr. Hero and his family had been quite unexpected that evening and the place was, unfortunately, a mess. One had to take inventory now and again, and the sad fact of it was that that required pulling everything off the shelves and out of storage and from around the house to count it up and figure out if he should risk attempting to return to Lorule or attempting to work Mr. Hero’s small smithy out back in order to restock his items.

He’d only counted up everything and had been working on cleaning and polishing his various items when the heroes had come knocking at the front door, and then he’d been so busy helping them warm up from the chill (they were all wearing the scarves he’d given them and it pleased him to no end) and making a meal with Mr. Hero that he’d been left unable to finish gathering the things that had been scattered across the floor. Of course, after dinner was finished, he’d set right to it, but now that everyone was settled around the fire with warm mugs in hand and fluffy scarves around their necks, Mr. Hero seemed to only be agitated by his puttering about and moving everything again.

To be fair, he hadn’t stopped moving for the last thirty minutes since the others had helped gather his things back up so they could sit, but there was so much to put away!

“Mr. Hero, I still-”

“Sit.” Mr. Hero squeaked grouchily, earning a few giggles as Mr. Rancher and Mr. Chosen Hero exchanged glances, smiles wide. “My feet hurt just from looking at you.”

Like it or not, Ravio’s ears were already pricking up at those words.

Since that first time, Mr. Hero had done him the favor of massaging his feet after a hard day many times, and as much as Ravio didn’t want to expect it of him, it was incredibly nice to have someone fuss over him, if only for a little bit, and if there was even a chance that it would happen again, well...

It was entirely intentional that he flopped onto the couch, feet resting easily in Mr. Hero’s lap as he stretched out. He could have sat down, he really could, but the fact of it was that he simply didn’t want to. Fortunately, Mr. Hero didn’t seem to mind, and too the merchants delight his friend immediately started pulling off his shoes with the same old familiar huff and wrinkling of his button nose, tossing the shoes as far away as possible to avoid having to remain in contact with them for long.

It was a practiced and much appreciated ritual that was Mr. Hero helping him relax after a long day. Just as cocoa or cider was prepared when either was having a particularly long or difficult day, or how Ravio always made sure Mr. Hero ate three meals a day and slept for at least four hours, taking care that his friend wasn’t positioned too uncomfortably wherever it was that he finally passed out. Mr. Hero touching his feet was normal, just like him playing with Mr. Hero’s hair once the other boy had settled down at last.

Perhaps though, it wasn’t all that common for the others.

“Vet?”

Mr. Hero blinked up from his work, violet eyes meeting the midnight blue of Mr. Rancher impassively.

“What in Ordonia are ya doin’?”

The veteran hero cocked a brow. “Foot massage, he won’t relax otherwise, and foot pains a-” Captain Hero Sir Jr. shot a look their way and Mr. Hero quickly amended what he’d been about to say. “Foot pain sucks.”

“You are touching feet.” Mr. Rancher wrinkled his nose. “Isn’t that a bit... gross?”

“Says the man who eats bee larva.” Came the quipped reply. “I wash them first, pities sakes.”

“By my head!?!?!?” Tune started jumping up and away and shooting Mr. Hero a hurt look. “Like, yeah, sure, I help Granny on bad days too, but warn a fellow if you’re gonna be having feet by his head.”

“Don’t sit on my legs.”

Ravio chuckled, letting the noise and chatter wash over him.

Mr. Hero’s hands never failed to sooth the pains of the day.

The heroes had stumbled in time and again over the months, and Ravio had grown quite used to their presence. Time passed differently on both ends of things, but he’d since learned when abouts to expect that they'd appear, and the house was, thankfully, stocked fully for each visit.

Autumn had brought about harvest, and the heroes had darted in and out, occasionally offering help and other times only crashing wearily in the living room and Mr. Hero’s bedroom for the night before they had to return to chasing the monsters. Today was one of the longer stays, especially if how Mr. Captain Hero Sir was moving so stiffly was any indication.

“Do you need me to step on you again?” Mr. Smithy asked worriedly as Mr. Captain Hero Sir eased his way down onto the couch, earning a few looks both from the merchant and the other heroes while Sheerow flitted about the man's head, chirruping worriedly and earning a gentle word or so from the captain.

Mr. Captain Hero Sir was in quite the state, stiff as a board and moving as poorly as the old pump in the village. It made him worried, and try as he might, he couldn’t think of any of his items that would help.

Mr. Hero appeared to already have an answer though. “Tunic off, Cap, and on the couch.”

Sharp blue blinked over in confusion to where Mr. Hero was already shedding his boots and rolling up his sleeves with a purpose. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Massage. Works wonders for back pain. Hop to it or I’m rescinding my offer.”

It was one thing to be on the receiving end of matters, but another entirely to be one of those who watched. Mr. Hero put his full weight into his hands as he worked, kneading out the knots in his friend's muscles while Mr. Captain Hero Sir melted into the couch with little relieved noises.

Maybe it took the others realizing that the vet didn’t just help him, but after that it wasn’t at all uncommon for him to carry in his attempts at cider or his wonderful cocoa and see Mr. Hero standing over one of the others and putting his clever hands to work in soothing tensed muscles back into place, the heroes under his hands melting under his touch.

The first time he heard Mr. Hero humming under his breath while he worked, the other heroes had all looked incredibly surprised, but not upset in the slightest. It was a lovely tune after all, and Tune himself started playing with his baton in time the gentle music, swaying in his seat and waving the instrument while the others continued working on repairing and tending their various items and clothing articles.

There was a pattern. For Mr. Captain Hero Sir it was his back, although rather rarely, and the same went for Mr. Chosen Hero.

For Captain Hero Sir Jr. It was his neck and shoulders.

Mr. Smithy got stress headaches that seemed to ease when someone helped message his temples.

Mr. Rancher had problems with his left wrist specifically.

Ravio of course had poor feet, and while Tune and Wild seemed to be mostly left unscathed from the repetitive pains that the others did, they took every opportunity to cling to Mr. Hero with their whole bodies when they felt that they wanted pets or attention when their mentor’s/brothers were too busy.

He’d attempted to return the favor all of one time. The black eye and bloody nose he got out of it weren’t even made better with the nearly tearful apologies of his best friend as Mr. Hero had jumped to his feet and dashed outside to get some ice for the injury.

Once the blood was cleaned up, the vet had sat in shame as Ravio had joined the others in teasing him for his “killer reflexes”.

“I can’t help it! People touching my feet- It-” Mr. Hero tugged at his hair frustratedly, eyes turning to the sky hopelessly. “I’m sorry, Ravio. It was an accident, I swear.”

“I know, Mr. Hero, I know.” He’d giggled out the reassurance, but from that day on he avoided touching Mr. Hero’s feet in any way possible.

(Oddly enough though, that didn’t stop a few of the others from trying, and Mr. Hero’s sleep was interrupted many times by heroes that had been kicked in the nose or even the mouth because they’d dared each other to touch the teen’s feet while he slept. Mr. Captain Hero Sir had complained for days until his own black eye healed, and Mr. Hero hadn’t even bother apologizing, stating that the others shouldn’t have tempted fat so foolishly.)

He felt a bit guilty for not returning the favor, but he knew better than to try again where so many others had failed.

And then winter had sprung up. Winter with its harsh gales that blew in half frozen heroes that tracked ice and snow across the floor as they bundled in front of the fire, wrapped head to toe for the weather. Winter when he’d brew hot cocoa to warm them all up, letting Mr. Hero tug down blankets to wrap around their on-and-off house-mates (guests no longer applied at this point). The mugs offered were warm, and Ravio smiled as each hero offered him a word of thanks as his tray grew lighter and lighter until he only had the two mugs left.

Mr. Hero had pulled together his usual nest before the fire. His huge blanket and a few spare pillows all bundled together into a comfortable place to sit for the younger heroes in order to make up for the lack of a second couch, and the vet sat in its center, still working to arrange the cushions with stiff fingers and chattering teeth until Ravio had pulled on his friend’s tunic and urged him to sit down.

When he offered the mug though, Mr. Hero had fumbled it and nearly dropped it, a hiss of irritation whishing from between his teeth and he glared down at his stiff digits. “Blast! Din’s sake, why does the freaking cold always freaking-”

Warm hands, worn from housekeeping and smithy work, wrapped around the vet’s as Ravio gently rubbed some warmth back into the stiff fingers. Mr. Hero started slightly at the touch, but didn’t complain as the merchant continued to press his into the rises and against the bones of his friend’s gnarled hands, offering warmth and relief against the pain and the cold both for a few short minutes, and Mr. Hero melted into the touch, as he always inevitably did, letting Ravio have his way for the moment and leaning to sit back-to-back with Wild while the merchant worked.

When he’d released his housemate, it’d only been to press a mug into the vet’s hands, but then he’d been settling across from him on the blanket nest, stockinged feet coming to rest in his friend’s lap as he’d pulled his own mug close for a sip. Violet eyes offered a begrudging smile that was returned in rupee green, but no words were spoken between the two as they enjoyed their cocoa.

Mr. Captain Hero Sir however wasn’t about to let it pass. “So, hand holding now, uh? Should I be talking to Fable about a wedding day?”

Ravio was certain that the only thing keeping some very rude signs from being exchanged as the fact that Mr. Hero wasn’t willing to stress his hands further or release the warmth that he held in them. The pink-haired hero did shoot a very disappointed look towards the captain though.