#best home remedy for eye irritation

[ayakashibackstreet]

Your mid-20s are for suffering actually

[reidmotif]

Relax, I've Got You

Summary: Reader isn't the best at handling stress, and her roommate Spencer, notices. Luckily, he has quite a few salacious ideas on how he could make her feel better.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: friends-with-benefits situation, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), mentions of anxiety/symptoms of anxiety.

Word Count: 2.7 k

Masterlist

You were never good at handling stress. 

You were well aware of this facet of your psyche– the way tensity would often wind around your limbs, snaking into the very depths of your bones until you were entirely drained and devoid of peace, a shell of the person you were accustomed to being. 

You had dealt with this complication on your own for the most part. You’d come home after a long day, and attempt to find yourself again through chamomile tea, lavender mists, and a warm blanket. 

Of course, there were days where even these measures could not suffice in curing your weariness. 

That’s where Spencer Reid came in. 

He’d only been your roommate at first. With the economy going as it was, it was simply more practical to find one, rather than renting alone. He’d responded to an ad you’d put up, and you accepted. The process was easy, honestly. You had no qualms about sharing your living space with another person, and even found the arrangement enjoyable at times. Spencer was well-mannered, never missed rent, and wasn’t even at home most of the time. When he was, he was quiet. Sweet. 

Through time, you found yourself becoming friends with the man. The conversation was light and easy, and in a rare turn of events, you started to open up to him. Even more surprisingly, he returned the favor, adding to the understanding that was fast growing between the two of you. It seemed only natural, since both of you were made naturally vulnerable by the circumstances of your situation. You’d come to your apartment, drop the mask of the day, and see that Spencer was already there, becoming an extension of the solace you found at home. Soon enough, the comfort of your couch was simply synonymous to him as well. 

It didn’t take long for Spencer to notice the anxieties that would plague you when a deadline came about, or when you simply fixated on an issue for too long. The way your bedroom light wouldn’t shut until 4 AM, or how you’d pace in the kitchen, so wired that your body denied you the rest you so desperately needed. He noticed the dark circles, the occasional irritability (followed by an apology, of course), the headaches, everything. Which is why he thought nothing of it to suggest some remedies for your troubles over breakfast one day. 

���Caffeine can actually increase stress, if you weren’t aware.” He says, eyeing your second cup of coffee that morning. “There’s actually a large amount of data that indicates you should limit caffeine intake, especially if you’re already anxious.” 

You narrow your eyes, furrowing your brows slightly. “Says who?” You retort, not quite ready to give up your chosen beverage. 

“The NIH, Penn State, the AMA-” 

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I got it.” You interrupt, knowing you’d started a losing battle the moment you’d questioned him.  “I’ll try to cut down on it.” 

He grins, satisfied with how the interaction had played out. You, on the other hand, started to drift farther away from your current setting. You swallow, putting down your coffee cup before rubbing your eyes, a soft sigh escaping you. 

“Something wrong?” Spencer asks, cautiously, his voice soft. 

You tsk, shaking your head and shrugging a bit at your own dilemma. “It's just.. I’m already so tired. I’m exhausted and the day’s barely begun.” You pause, unable to articulate just how fatigued you were.  “It’s like I can already feel the mid-afternoon headache I’m going to get later, and it hasn’t even started yet.” You hate the way you sound, longing for the day you could fully relax for even a fraction of a second. 

“You’d probably be a lot less tired if you slept a little more.” Spencer suggests, and you shoot him a death glare. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” You snap. “I’m trying. It’s not that easy. It’s just-” You groan, stopping yourself as the quick realization dawns on you that you’ve misdirected your frustrations. There’s a wave of shame rising up almost immediately, heating your cheeks up in regret. 

“I’m sorry, Spencer. Sorry. That’s unfair of me. I know you’re just looking out for me.” You murmur, taking a deep breath to calm your senses. 

“Hey, don’t worry.” He says, his voice low and compassionate. “I get it. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.” 

You nod, closing your eyes as you continue to breathe. He continues to speak, his voice remaining warmhearted. 

“There are actually quite a few ways to alleviate stress. Some experts recommend meditation, exercise and yoga. I wouldn’t mind doing those with you, if you were interested.” He offers, as he continues to ramble, lost in his own explanation in the hopes of being of service to you. “Some experts even name sex as a useful stress reliever, due to the endorphins and oxytocin released after completion.” 

You give a fruitless laugh. “Jesus, I wish. I don’t have the time to try and find someone willing to do that for me.” 

Spencer goes quiet, and you finally open your eyes. You’re met with his stare, trained on your form, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“What?” You ask, upon returning his gaze. 

He clears his throat, shaking his head, as if he was ridding himself of a passing thought. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m sorry. I hope you do find something that works for you though. I hate seeing you like this.” 

You soften at his concern. “Thanks, Spencer.” You say, the affection in your voice unmistakable. “Maybe I’ll end up taking on.. Yoga? That seems doable, right?” 

He smiles. “Yoga. Right.” 

The days pass on, until you find yourself in a similar scenario you’ve been in one too many times. You’re pacing the kitchen, a small clock reading that it was currently 2 AM. You couldn’t even really decipher the source of tonight’s anxiety– all you know is you feel it, and you feel it deeply. 

That’s when a voice breaks through the darkness, halting your movements altogether. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Spencer’s soft, slightly deeper voice. 

“Oh, yeah.” You call out, despite the growing tightness in your chest. “I’m fine. You can go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.” 

He shakes his head, scratching his head as he makes his way towards you. “It’s nothing.” He reassures. “I needed to pee anyway. What’s going on with you?” He inquires, gently. 

You rub at your chest, biting your lip. “The usual.” 

“Work?” He asks, softly. 

You purse your lips. “I’m not even sure at this point. Just really anxious.” 

His expression softens. A beat of silence passes between the two of you. 

“I’m- um. I’m willing to help.” He stammers out, suddenly seeming much more nervous than he was a moment ago. 

You give a dejected smile. “That’s sweet, Spencer, but I dunno. I think I have to deal with this on my own.” 

“No, I mean. I can help. I’m willing to help. To do that for you. I’m your friend. I want to help.” He restates, his voice a little urgent. 

“Willing to do what?” You ask, wholly confused with where he was going with this. 

He takes a breath. “Sex. Or, an orgasm, at least. You said no one you knew would be willing to help you like that. I am. If you want.” He blurts out. 

You stand there, momentarily shocked into silence. You’re suddenly able to recall the conversation you’d had, just a few days prior, and realize what he was trying to say.  Here you were, in your kitchen, with your friend- your roommate, and he was selflessly offering himself to you. For sex. For de-stressing sex.  He sounded so earnest, despite the obvious lewdness of his offer, and the juxtaposition made your head spin. 

“I..” You start, your voice caught in your throat. 

“You don’t have to feel compelled to say yes. I’m just offering. I want to help you.” He interjects, his voice still carrying that unselfishness you’d known from the very beginning. 

“I.. no. I mean, yes. I want to say yes.” You find yourself admitting after a moment. “But.. are you sure? It’s.. I mean, it’s sex, Spencer.” You whisper. 

“I’m aware.” He says, matching your softer tone. “I’m okay with that. Are you?” 

You take a breath. Looking up at him, you take in his slightly tousled hair illuminated by the soft moonlight that drifted in through your apartment windows. His white sleep shirt was crumpled, and even in the darkness that enveloped you, you could decipher the kindness in his eyes, his mere presence bringing a shade of ease into you as you spoke to him. 

“Yes.” You murmur out, the words flowing out with no hesitation. “I’m okay with that.” 

“Can I kiss you?” He says, gently, and your nod of affirmation is almost immediate. 

He steps closer and cups your cheek, before pressing his lips against yours gently. It’s a sweeter kiss, something that, despite never saying out loud, you would have expected from him. His mouth moves languidly against yours, before pulling away, slightly out of breath. 

“Kissing actually helps to reduce cortisol.” He murmurs. “It indirectly lowers stress as a result. Is it working?” 

And true to his words, you realized that the tightness in your chest had faded somewhat, no longer blaring with the intensity you had just felt a few minutes prior. An entirely new feeling settled within you- an ache, a need for this man and what he brought to you. 

“Yeah. It’s working.” You mumble out. 

As if he could read your mind, Spencer gently takes your hand. “Let’s move to the couch, yeah?” He murmurs, already leading you to his spot of preference. 

He gently guides you to sit on the couch, quickly finding your lips once again to exchange some soft kisses along the way. His hands drift up and down your back, fingertips light and tender. His every touch speaks to something more, to an unspoken dedication that you’d never felt before until this moment.

To something that maybe extended beyond the original purpose of your rendezvous. “Is this alright?” He asks, his tone hushed and reverent. 

You nod, almost in a trance. He was so gentle, so reassuring. He was exactly what you needed. 

His lips find yours again and you respond eagerly, letting your hands tangle into the mess of brown hair that sat atop his head. He let out a small groan as your fingers slightly tugged on the strands, sending a thrill through you. 

He starts to trail the kisses down your neck, seeking out more sensitive spots that could bring you into a further state of rest and repose.  Everything about you spurred him on, it seemed. He paid attention to every noise, every movement– his ultimate goal seeming to hinge on your pleasure throughout this. 

Of course, you respond accordingly to the dedication, a soft gasp or whimper escaping you when he would mouth at the perfect spot, which would only cause him to increase his actions tenfold, leading to even more response on your end. 

The perfect feedback loop driving you to pliancy and ecstasy all at once.

His lips begin to drift down, and you realize he’s settling in between your legs now, hands on the waistband of your sleep clothes, urging you to lie down completely, which you do. 

“Gonna take these off now.” He whispers, looking up at you between your legs. 

“Please.” You respond, waiting with bated breath. 

He manages to pull down the last barrier between you two, before being met with the mess he’d created. His lips parted as his fingers trailed lightly over your wet slit, your arousal evident on his finger as he marveled on the effect he could have on you. 

“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He whispers, as if his eyes are set upon something precious, something worthy of worship. And in a way, isn’t that exactly what he’d set out to do the moment he’d placed his face between your thighs? 

He loops his arms around your thighs, before slowly allowing his tongue to dart out, delicately, tracing the wetness of your pussy. A moan slips out of you, low and needy, and that’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s diving in, devouring your cunt like a man starved. 

“Spencer.” You gasp out. You say his name like prayer, like he is god-given, because in this moment, he is. 

His tongue traces your clit in circles, before directly placing his lips over the swollen bud, applying some light suction. The tenderness in the action, the way his eyes flit upto yours, watching your gaze for the utmost reassurance that he was doing right by you, only hurdle you closer and closer to your pleasurable end. 

It’s almost as if you’re floating, your back arching as his face stubbornly stays buried in your cunt, lapping at your wetness insistently. He wants your release just as bad as you do, and it’s clear he’ll do anything for the sweetness that comes with you falling apart in his arms. 

“Oh god.” You moan out- how is it possible to feel so airy, and yet so present all at once? To feel every movement of Spencer’s warm, wet tongue lavishing your clit, and still be somewhere else entirely- a new height of pleasure you had sorely needed all along. 

One of his hands leaves the iron-grip it had your thighs in, letting his fingers drift towards your entrance. He slips the digits in, slowly pumping into you, only adding to the overwhelming rapture you found yourself in. Your eyes shoot open, and you find yourself writhing against him. 

“Spencer- oh god. Please, please.” You babble out, legs starting to tense with the beginnings of your orgasm. 

He only pulls away enough to murmur softly. “That’s it.” His fingers continue their steady pace into you, his grip on your thigh keeping you planted to the mattress. “I got you, love. Come for me.”

With nothing else to say, he resumes eating you out, and the combination of his fingers and mouth finally barrels you towards your orgasm, shuddering as it rips through you, as your every sense is clouded- with this, with him. 

It’s only until you’ve ridden out the entirety of your orgasm that he pulls away. Sitting upright, he leans forward to caress your jaw, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the flushed appearance your face had taken on in the throes of gratification. 

“Feeling better?” He asks, softly. 

“Entirely.” You whisper back, almost in awe. Not only at how well it worked, but how adoringly he stared at you, it being enough to stop your heart in your chest. Did he always look like this? How did you never notice? 

“Can I return the favor?” You implore, already beginning to get up, but Spencer pushes you back down lightly, shaking his head. 

“You’re tired.” He says, as if his word was fact, despite these being your feelings that were being spoken about. “Right now, the oxytocin coursing through your body is priming you perfectly for sleep, and God knows you need it.” He chuckles out.

You realize that he’s right, and for the first time, you feel the fatigue that comes naturally with sleep, as opposed to the restless nights you’d been dealing with. You still feel disappointed though, feeling a sting of rejection as you’re unable to touch him back. Still, your tiredness is undeniable, and so you nod. 

He gets up, finding a blanket to lay on top of you, before kneeling beside your face. He looks at you with subtle veneration, before letting his lips brush against your forehead. 

“I’ll take you up on your offer tomorrow, though, if that’s alright.” He murmurs. “When you’re rested.” 

Your smile is immediate. “Deal.” You whisper out. 

He looks at you for another beat, before letting his knuckles brush against your cheek, slowly retreating to his bedroom, as to let you get the rest you so desperately needed. 

You close your eyes, amazed by the tranquility that came with Spencer. How simple intimacy came with him, as if that’s how it should’ve been all along. 

You know you’ll ponder on this fact in greater detail later on, but for now, you relished in serenity of the afterglow. 

“Spencer Reid.” You think. “What divine comfort you are.” 

HOOOLY SHIT. how long has it been since i uploaded? a long time? i think. hahahaha. in between traveling, [redacted life updates], and even more, i just wasn't very inspired to write. i hope this speaks to some of you, and i hope it was enjoyable to read. as usual, any likes, comments, reblogs are so so so deeply appreciated. feedback as well! thank you so so so much for reading regardless, i am eternally grateful for any and all support <3 (oh also haha. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins friends with benefits challenge! check it out.)

[a-b-riddle]

Gaz & his Love (Part one?)

The '141' stops as soon as they are back home. After that, they are just close friends. Simon, John, Kyle and Johnny had managed to settle down and find themselves sweet little things. All who adore their brave men and all who share different tastes

In this 'series', it's essentially bits of each of the 141 one and their kinks they have with their partners. With that being said, I don't really care if you think that Soap is submissive or Ghost is into CNC/Primal play. That's great. But in this fantasy, this is what it is. It's what I wanted to write. If you want Kyle Garrick to be a pleasure Dom and John to be a Daddy Dom. Cool. Go find other fictions that write that, or be the one to write them. I'm not going to argue about what kinks they would really have.

CW: NSFW. Edging. Use of chastity belt. Spanking. Mentions of figging. D/s dynamics. Self-deprication. Aftercare. Impact play.

4.5 k words.

Not proof-read

The downside of having a Dom with a huge dick is that he was stingy with it. Thus making him a huge dick. And when it became very apparent that you lacked any self control and restraint from touching your greedy little pussy, Kyle had found that edging you was the best form of punishment, if not just to push your limits.

He wouldn't necessarily call himself a sadist. The moment you started to cry (at least outside of the bedroom) he was quick to remedy the situation. The term brat tamer didn't sit right with either of you. You didn't like the idea of having to be tamed and Kyle liked, loved, that you could be, well, you.

But that didn't mean he didn't like setting you a little more straight. Making sure you stuck to your goals. Showed yourself the same kindess you insisted others be given. And most importantly, helping you remember that iced coffee does not count as a meal; an issue that is a reoccurring struggle.

Although Kyle did not like hurting you, he loved making you squirm. Edging, teasing. Making you cum so many times that you had to beg him to stop. Eventually he would.

You were ovulating and you tried to usually use that as an excuse to convince Kyle to let you have free reign over your orgasms. But you both knew that if he gave you an inch, you would take a yard. You would be chasing that euphoria all fucking day and you both shit you needed to get done.

He had went out on a quick errand, promising to be home at 6 and then the two of you could head out for dinner. He had gotten back earlier than expected and imagine the surprise he walked into when he came back home earlier than expected.

When he had found you rubbing yourself, legs spread without a care in the world, he practically beamed. You knew the rules and you broke them. He knew that the penance he had lined up would break you and he couldn't wait to be the one to help put you back together.

You had given a half ass apology when you first realized he was standing in the doorway of your bedroom. His eyes looking at you as if he were just waiting to eat you alive. You had expected anger or, at the least, a bit of irritation. As he stood there, saying nothing you took the initiative and offered to bend over, making his life a bit easier. You did have your moments where you did like being good for him.

But instead, he ordered you to stay on your back. Slowly walking to you. The sound of your heartbeat filling your head. He reached at the posts of the bed, pulling at the restraints that he always kept there just in case the moment arose where you needed a bit of… correcting.

He was tender as he wrapped the cuffs around your wrists and ankles. Adjusting the straps so you have very little movement. You have expected him to flip him on your belly so he could spend the next hours spanking your poor ass raw.

But given that the punishment needed to fit the punishment, you assumed it would be a night of bringing you to the brink of release only to deny you. You thought you knew what was in store.

But fuck were you wrong.

Once he had you exactly how he wanted, barely able to move, he stood. Staring only for a moment before making his way out of the bedroom.

He left you there, giving you a chance to guess how many times he would edge you until he finally felt like you had learned your lesson. And even then, the bastard still wouldn't let you come.

The sound of his approaching footsteps made your heart race.

He came back in with a box in hand. No markings or anything noteworthy. Just a plain cardboard box. With curious eyes, you practically burned a whole through it, trying to figure out what exactly could it be.

Too small to be a sybian or a fucking machine. You already had a decent sized collection of toys and paddles… Before you could keep guessing, he set in on the floor, just out of view before going to your dressers.

Smoothly, he pulled off his t-shirt leaving him only in a pair of jeans that hugged him perfectly. Kyle didn't say anything as he pulled out a Hitachi wand, some clamps, a dildo and a roll of duct tape.

Fuck. This was already going to be a long night.

Not taking his eyes off you, he made his way back on the bed pulling out something you hadn't noticed before. Your gaze zeroed in on the malicious object. A tool that Kyle knew you had a terrible familiarity with.

A simple and standard clear plastic ruler.

Dammit.

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

It was more delicate than a paddle so Kyle had no qualms about using it on your pussy and with you were spread out with not even enough wiggle room to block him with your thighs. The precision made it so he could hit your clit directly. Every. Single. Time.

Couldn't get that kind of a precision with a flogger. One time when you

Immediately, he sensed your apprehension. Saw the sudden unease in your eyes. Kyle knew that you didn’t like being punished as much as you liked the release you got from it. There were some punishments that were completely off the table, personal hard limits for both you and him. But then there were some, like hitting and slapping your pussy that blurred the edges of what you could stand and what you couldn’t.

And although he loved bringing you to tears, the thing that made him get off was the fact that you wanted this as much as he did. You trusted him to not take things too far and dish out punishments that fit the infraction. Having your mouth gagged for extended periods when you smart off at him. Getting bent over his knee after being a little pain in the ass. And in this instance, torturing your pussy because you couldn’t keep your hands off her.

"You know your safe words and cues?" He asked, wanting to remind you could stop this at any time. You looked up at him, momentarily forgetting the intimidating instrument of torture he so casually held in his hand. His eyes cast over you hungrily. An absolute vision.

"Yes, Sir." He tried not to smile as he sensed the tremble in your usually steady voice. He liked you scared, hell even fighting against it. But he needed your consent. He needed to know that in that moment, you were relying on him to do what he knew what was best. You needed to let him take control and give everything to him.

"I don't think I need to remind you that during your punishments, you're not allowed to cum." He said twirling the ruler slowly, now wanting to taunt you.

Fuck.

You couldn’t look at it. It was like getting a shot. If you weren’t looking, it didn’t hurt as bad, right? "No, Sir." You swallowed, eyes staring at the ceiling.

Now that wouldn’t do. He thought. He needed your attention. Plus unless he had you blindfolded you or specified otherwise, you knew that during a scene you were to look at him when you answered him. You hissed as the piece of plastic landed on your inner thigh.

"Eyes on me." He ordered. You obeyed already shifting from his brat to his good girl. He hid his smile. It was hard when you started to get into your sub space to refrain from breaking you down too quickly. Kyle enjoyed the aftercare as much as he did taming you, but going about it too quickly wouldn’t help the lesson stick; a lesson you were in desperate need of learning.

“We’re going to start off with twenty.” You wanted to argue, but you had practically asked for it. How could you not remember to at least lock the door? You nod, too afraid to speak, your hands gripping onto the restraints to help ground you. "Count." Was his only response as the first swat came.

You hissed at the sinister slapping sound and the sting of pain that followed. "One." You breathed out taking a deep breathe in before the next one came.

"Two." Your voice rushed out. Two. You were only at two. Again. Deep breath.

smack

"Three." You squeaked. Another breath. smack. "Four!"

Kyle didn't know where he wanted to look the most.

At your face. Your eyes squinting and closing tightly at his lashing. At your tits. How your nipples had already started to pebble. Maybe he should take the ruler to those next...

But he had to keep his focus on your pussy. With each swat the clear ruler had come back with a little bit more of your juice. This was making you wet. You would never admit it and you didn't have to, but both of you knew that this turned you on. Being able to give up control, even for a moment. Having to let go was hard. But Kyle was the only person you could trust without micromanaging.

By the time you got to twenty, the tears that had pooled in your eyes had fallen. If he could have a painting commission for that very sight, he would have paid anything to have it. Instead, he had to settle on burning the image in his mind forever.

"Good girl." His praise was meant to mock you and acknowledge that he was satisfied with how you took your punishment.

"Are we not done?" You asked.

"Oh no, Love." He said picking up one of the clamps. "That was just for breaking the no-touching rule." He leaned over your body, taking a nipple in your mouth. You gasped. Your back arching into his touch. Wanting more. Needing more.

He flicked his tongue, faster and faster before suckling hard and releasing you with a pop. Before you could open your eyes, you felt the pinch from the clamp. No warning.

"Fuck!" You squirmed. Opening your eyes only to shoot daggers at Kyle, who was now straddling your waist with a smile playing on his lips.

"Onto the next one?" He asked, but you didn't entertain him with an answer. He took your other nipple in his mouth. Repeating the same motions that you yet again fell for. Trying to fight the need to arch your back. To hum as his tongue and your body worked against you.

Another pinch came. Even with the knowledge that it was coming it still hurt like an absolute bitch.

He got off of you only to crawl toward that delicate place between your thighs. You were dripping onto the bed. It took everything, every ounce of self control Kyle had to refrain from swiping his tongue up your folds. He could make a day out of eating you out until you cried and begged for mercy. He had done it before even if it took you almost 45 minutes before tapping out.

But when you saw him pick up another clip and his hand drawing closer to your exposed pussy you're first instinct was to call out yellow. He saw your recoil and stopped. His eyes met yours, searching for an answer. You both knew the ball was in your court. But it didn't feel like... enough?

"Green." You put your head back down against the pillow, waiting for the sharp sting. Instead it was just a gradual pressure. Slowly building instead of an instant pinch. Then another. And another. And another. It wasn't until you heard the harsh ripping of tape before you looked down to see what your boyfriend was doing.

He had put four clothes pins on your labia major, two on each side. The piece of tape he had just ripped with his teeth was used to hold the clamps against your leg. You didn't speak. Neither of you making eye contact as he continued to the other side until you were left fully exposed.

He sat back on his ankles, looking down and admiring your pussy as if it were artwork and he was the dedicated artist. "Mind if I take a picture for later?" He asked, his tone softening. "Something to think about when I'm on a mission." He gave a cheeky wink, but let you know in his voice that you could say no. Pictures and videos had always been a sore subject for you, but you had sent some here and there, although he had never prompted you before, even after all this time.

"Yes." You said. "But can it just not have my face?" The same request as always. You trusted Kyle, but there was always that what if possibility.

What if his phone got hacked?

What if someone got ahold of his phone or he was innocently trying to show one of his collegues a picture and then BAM, there's your pussy?

"Of course, Love." He said, pulling his phone from his back pocket before taking a few pictures. Without you asking, he turned the screen around. His fingers swiping through the photos to let you see your glistening, spread cunt. Just your cunt. Not your face. No identifying marks. "Look how pretty she is." Kyle's coo of approval made your stomach flutter.

Without any other remarks, he returned his phone back into his pocket and kneeled between your legs, resting on his own. "How many times did you come?" He asked. Although you frequently disobeyed Kyle, you never lied.

"I didn't." You shamefully admitted. "I just couldn't get there."

He hummed as if contemplating his next course of action. "Well then," he said. He grabbed a pillow near your head that you weren't using. Putting it in the space between your knees before lowering his body onto it. His mouth was hovering above your pussy. "Let's make up for that then."

The bastard had grabbed the pillow to make himself comfortable.

Fuck.

You were going to be here a while.

Eight. He had pulled eight orgasms out of you. He had switched things up between each one. Sometimes one finger before adding another and then a third. Using the dildo. But his mouth never left you and he never let up. Each one was as intense, if not more, than the last. You were crying by number four, but still hadn't begged him to stop.

But he was damned and determined to get you there.

You still hadn't by number twelve. You couldn't. Not from sheer stubbornness, but you simply couldn't. It was all too much. It was hurting at that point, but a new feeling, a heaviness consumed you. Your tongue was too heavy in your mouth. Your stomach was flipping, tightening its self into a little ball.

You weren't sure if you were hot or cold anymore, but you were certain that at any moment you were going to be sick. You were approaching number thirteen, feeling something more than just an orgasm threatening to escape you. You were going to throw up.

“K- Ky?” You stammered, forgetting your words. What was your safe word again?

“What’s your color?" He asked, pulling away from you for the first time in almost an hour.

“I-” you didn’t know. You didn’t want to tap out. You had disobeyed, this was the punishment. Kyle had never took things too far. You didn’t decide when this was done. He did. “I need a minute.”

Your head fell against the pillow. Closing your eyes, you try to breathe slowly through your nose. The wave of nausea didn't pass as your heart continued to beat so violently you head practically pulsed along with it.

While you were trying to get your shit together, fighting the sickness that started to swell inside you, Kyle began to fiddle with your restraints.

“What are you doing?” You asked, not having the strength to pull your head up to look at him.

“You’re done.” There was a finality in his voice, leaving no room for argument. “I’m calling Red.”

“What?” You asked, confused. "I-" You stuttered, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. Process what was happening. "You can't call Red for me."

“Yes I can and I did.” He said, finishing the remaining cuffs before going for the clamps on your nipples.

“But you weren’t finished.” You don't know why you were arguing, but it felt wrong for him to just stop everything.

“Who said I was?” He smirked before gently taking off the clamps. Further down he moved, settling back down between your legs before rooming the clamps he had put on your aching pussy lips. You sucked in a breath as the blood rushed back.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You hadn't mean to say it out loud.

“Yeah. You’re done.” His tone annoyed.

“Please don’t be mad at me right now.” You said, throwing an arm over your eyes as if that would somehow shield you from the embarrassment. A sort of if I can't see them, they can't see me mentality. “I held out as long as I could.”

“I’m not mad that we needed to end the scene.” He explained, his tone not as annoyed as before, but still holding a certain sharpness to it. “I’m upset that you should have called yellow and didn’t.” You hissed as he removed the fourth and final clamp. “I’m guessing that you didn’t to prove something.”

Kyle was good at breaking you. It’s what you wanted. It's what he wanted. But he could only be sure to not cross the line if you drew it out for him. He didn't hold the power here, you did.

“Tapping out of a punishment makes me feel bad.” You confessed, still not daring to look at him. “It makes me feel like I bit off more than I could chew and that I’m trying to weasel my way out of a punishment and I don’t like that.”

He decided right this second wasn't the time to have this conversation. You were already starting to drop and he needed to get started on your aftercare. “Let’s get you showered off and then we’ll talk,” he offered, scooping you up from the bed before you had a chance to argue.

He ran the water on luke warm to help your temperature get back down before slowly building it up to a comfortable heat. You leaned against his chest as he ran his hands up and down your back.

Before you could really stop it, the tears came. Kyle felt your body shaking against his chest.

“Shhhh,” he soothed. “It’s alright, Love.”

"I don't know why I'm crying." You sobbed. "I just didn't want to weasel out of it."

"Using a safe word doesn’t mean you’re ’weaseling’ out of a punishment when it becomes too much,” He said, pulling you away to look at you. His fingers rubbing small circles on your arms. “It just means it just got to be too much. You needed to end the scene. End of story.”

“I know," you said, the crown of your head pushing against his chest as you looked down. The water still cascading down on you both. "But it still doesn’t feel that way.”

“Would you like me to keep punishing you?” You knew he was asking it rhetorically, but that didn't stop you from answering honestly.

“Maybe not anything with impact.” You offered. “Like lines or something.”

“I’ll think of something. Later.” He said grabbing your soap off of your little shelf and lathering you up. "Lets get you all cleaned up." Kyle's after care was just as important to him as it was to you. It helped ground him. Make him remember that everything in the bedroom was a fantasy.

You didn't think he was a monster. He wasn't cruel. It gave him an opportunity to also help build back what he had broken.

By the time he as finished rubbing you down, you were practically putty in his hands. "Finish up while I go and change the sheets." He kissed your forehead, leaving you to it.

“How you feeling?” He asked as you made your way back into the bedroom. He had already changed into a fresh pair of jeans and threw on a button up. Sometimes you hated how beautifully put together he could get almost instantly.

“Better.” You gave him a soft smile before noting his outfit.. "You're all dressed up."

"I figured we could still make dinner if you wanted to. You need to eat something." He wasn't wrong. You didn't want to get into the discussion about your only meal for the day had been an iced coffee. So you quickly got ready. You sat on the edge of the bed, putting on your socks when you noticed it again.

The box on the floor that Kyle had brought in earlier. The one he never opened.

“What’s that?” You pointed. Kyle wanted to say that the two of you could open it later, but he had been so exciting to go and pick up his order he could hardly wait.

“It's what I was going to finish the night off with," he answered with a gleam in his eye as he picked up the box, putting it on the bed. "Think of it as a surprise."

"What the fuck is that, Kyle Garrick?" You said, pulling your legs tightly to your body. As if coiling yourself into a ball would ever stop him.

"It's something to help you." That mischievous glint was back in his eye. Your heart stopped as he finally tore through the box like a kid at Christmas. Beaming with pride as he held up the sinister piece of metal.

“Kyle,” you began. “That's not a-”

“A chastity belt.” He finished. “Yes. It's my assurance.” He held up the chunk of metal, allowing it to shine in the bedroom.

"For what?" You're voice reaching a higher pitch. Kyle tried not to laugh as you practically squeaked. You always did it when you were nervous. "Making my life into the Handmaiden's Tale?"

He rolled his eyes at your over-exaggerated comparison. "To make sure you can't cum until I say so." He set the contraption down on the ibed before pulling out a small set of keys and a padlock out of the box as well.

Holy fuck. He was serious. "Since I can’t trust you when I’m not here, you’ll start wearing it when I have to go out.”

“Kyle, please.” You begged. It was no use. You had fucked up. Kyle could handle your brattiness. He loved having you over his knee, making your ass burn. But disobedience and being a little shit were two different things. He gave you a rule and you broke it. Plain and simple.

You had secretly hoped that he would just pull out the ginger root. Figging your poor little asshole until you were a crying, blubbering mess. The aftercare during such a session was so intense it almost made it worth it. Failing in comparison at the one he had just given you, although it was still wonderful.

But you had came without permission. Not only that, but you were strictly told NOT to touch yourself. A rule that you had broken time and time again.

You huff, but honestly the idea of being unable to do anything. Having to beg him…. You could already feel yourself getting wet. “Not now though, right?”

“Later” “Your punishment wasn’t finished.”

“How long would I have to wear it?” You asked, thinking maybe he’ll just

“Let’s start with five days.”

“FIVE?” You practically squeal. No way. There is absolutely no way you’ll be able to make it five days without something to give you some sort of stimulation between your thighs. Even if you had just come so many times it had quite literally made you sick. “Kyle, be reasonable.”

“This is me being reasonable.” He said, grabbing a light jacket from his wardrobe. “Do you think I got one of these last minute? Your lack of control is an issue I will be damned and determined to fix.” He retreated into the your closet with something to keep you warm. “Tell you what,” he said crossing his arms as you put it on. “Make it a week.”

“Kyle!” Your jaw fell open, ready to protest.

“Hush and let me finish.” He ordered, holding up a finger to pause any more interruptions. “One week straight. 24/7 . The belt stays on unless you need to shower or go to the bathroom. Make it a week with no complaints and I’ll give you a week where you don’t have to ask.”

Your ears had suddenly perked up. A week of being able to rub yourself absolutely raw without any repercussions.

“A week and after that I get a week where I can come anytime I want?” You clarified, not fully trusting his wording. "I can cum when you fuck me and when I masturbate. I'm allowed to masturbate?"

Your spew of words had him laughing. "You act like I'm a genie trying to trick you!"

"That's exactly what you are!" You argued, your tone now growing less appalled and more playful.

"Fine!" He sighed. "If you last a week, you can have a full week of absolute orgasmic freedom."

"Deal!" You held out your hand, waiting for the deal to be made before he could go back on his word.

As soon as the two of you had gotten home, Kyle had started the countdown. It felt weird. Definetly uncomfortable and something you weren't entirely sure you would get used to.

The next morning, Kyle was already down in the kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filling your senses as you joined him.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked, smirking over the rim of his mug already knowing the answer.

"Fucking terrible." You huffed out. You had practically tossed and turned all night. He was almost tempted to take it off, but a deal is a deal. "This thing is so uncomfortable. It's like a pair of medieval panties."

"You tapping out after one night?" He asked, already knowing he should have made a counter off to your deal instead of simply it making it a challenge for you.

"Not a chance." You smiled, shooting him the same smile he was giving you. "But I think maybe a cup of coffee could help perk me up."

You kissed him as he handed you your own mug. Humming as his hand traveled to the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him. Deepening the kiss until you were nearly breathless.

You had hoped next week's freedom would be worth it. It surely wasn’t right now as the chastity belt rubbed irritatingly against your core.

[starscabaret]

☆Meeting Yandere! Vincent ☆

pairing: yandere! Vincent x fem reader 

summary: Meeting Vinny <333

warnings: n/a 

authors note: 

Vincent had brushed into the small town a few months earlier on a contract for his engineering firm. The job paid well and he had little to no attachment anywhere so he made the move. He lived in an upscale condo about 30 minutes out from the actual town he’d be working in. Paid for by the company of course. 

He had a routine, call mom once a week, send a letter once a month, go to work every weekday, go to the gym every weekday, grocery shop on Sundays, and get a haircut every 3 weeks. Not much changed for him really unless it was necessary. 

He liked it that way, in his free time he drew, invested, and dabbled in a few books and tv. He wouldn’t call himself the happiest man alive, but he was getting by, and his mom was doing well. That’s all he ever wanted. 

Just like any other day on the job site Vincent set in his small office inside the mobile trailer going over blueprints and whatnot. That is until you came banging on the flimsy trailer door. Vincent thought the damn police were here. Lo and Behold when he opened the door there you were in pajamas, and slippers, and sleep still in your eyes. 

As soon as the door opened you spoke, “Look man, I really was nice at first and didn’t say anything but do y’all have to be so loud at 7 am? It’s waking me and my son.”

Vincent stood there deadpan he didn’t know what to reply. There was nothing he could really do to delay construction in the early hours without derailing the whole project. And normally he would have slammed the door in your face had it been anyone else. But you, you made his heart beat fast and he blanked on a response. Besides the fact that he was a man of very few words.

“Come in.” He said as he pulled you into the office like trailer.

“You seem to be the boss sir, is there anything you can do?” You said while rubbing your eyes.

“You must live in the house a few acres over, what’s your name?” He spoke low and grumbly.

“Yeah I do, it’s a family house but no one gives a shit anymore. All moved off to the big city, scared of the water. Oh, Im f/n l/n” you replied in an annoyed tone.  

“I can’t tell them to halt all work in the morning is there anything I can do instead?” He asked, wanting to remedy this. He didn’t want to upset you. You were alluring to him. This was also the most he had spoken to anyone in days.

“You come to explain to my son why you’re disrupting his sleep!” you said with irritation in your voice.

When Vincent got to your home to apologize to your son, he was met with Ben. Ben was a 3-year-old beautiful Doberman. 

Vincent was a bit relieved it was a dog and not a child, as he was already daydreaming about how he would give you your first child.

Vincent didn’t speak much or have the best social skills but he knew that his interest in you wasn’t normal. Nor did he know how to express such interest.

Good thing you found him handsome, and took interest in his quiet reserved demeanor. You had to know more, you had to dig past the surface. You were bold and willing to take charge and make the moves. You had never seen a man like him in your town before, or anywhere for that matter. 

You were happy you went and complained that morning. Who said complaining didn’t get you anywhere?

[ronearoundblindly]

Which of the guys would be open to participate in a self care/spa day with you? 🛁🫧💅

This one I separated into categories for who genuinely enjoys, stands it for you, or only allows it when a daughter wants to play (and no, that's not with you, but 'he' just needs worn way down to allow it). No warnings but I bet you'll find some surprises...

Truly Finds Joy In Self-Care

Ransom Drysdale, Johnny Storm, Jake Jensen, and Lloyd Hansen

I think we all know that Ransom and Lloyd are preening, pretty bois, so this should come as no surprise to anyone. Ransom is more private with his beauty regimen, but he's not above paying good money to visit a fancy spa. Lloyd has entirely too much fun showing off how callus/indifferent he is by, ya know, ordering people's death by phone while a clay mask detoxes his pores, etc. He is also heavily critical of what products he will use again (i.e. if grittiness stuck in his mustache or if an exfoliant irritated his fresh shave).

Johnny and Jake are playful about it; Jake likes the process of relaxing more than Johnny. Jake nerds out on the chemical properties of ingredients. Johnny teases you about the frou-frou-ness of it all the whole time, HOWEVER, he is also the one who enjoys a foot massage more than any other character. Falls asleep within two damn minutes. It's bizarre and sort of endearing.

Would Do It To Please You

James Mace, Curtis Everett, and Steve Rogers

Curtis can make do with a bar of soap and a hot bath; that's really the pinnacle of indulgent care to him, but he knows you love the various face masks and lotions. He is highly amused by cucumber slices on his eyes but hates cucumber water (any infusion really, just drink some juice ffs). La Croix is better used to get blood out of this clothes than to drink. He thinks it's nasty.

Like Jake, Mace will dissect what ingredients will actually be beneficial and which products are just snake oil. He takes pride in helping you choose the best things to use or spend your time on. Mace is, unfortunately, the most practical man, and he will flat out refuse to indulge you if he has something else he needs to focus on.

Steve is a bit strange about this one. He love, love, loves for you to pamper yourself, but he will participate very reluctantly. He grew up being fawned over like a delicate doll, received treatment after treatment--often to no effect,--and even resorted to some of those far-fetched, home remedies for various ailments. Yes, his mom was a nurse and a woman of science. Yes, he did follow doctors' advice whenever they offered a useful solution. But also, yes, he was so sick with so many things for so long that he tried everything.

Steve associates a lot of self-care 'treatments' with being ill...which he is not...not anymore. Please, do not get him started on essential oils. You think he lectures as Cap? Hoo boy...

Begrudgingly Is A Daughter's Palette

Jimmy Dobyne, Ari Levinson, and Bucky Barnes

For Jimmy, there's just some stuff you do for your kids simply because they're your kids, and playing with makeup or face mask, nail polish or hair clips, and even every product around the rim of the tub is one of those things.

Ari and Bucky get roped into plaiting practice since they have some length of hair to braid, but these two do not sit still well. They each find sneaky ways to let their girls enjoy spa stuff while they do not have to. Your daughter can get a little manicure while he gets a haircut or shave. That's about the extent of their 'enjoyment.'

As for why they won't participate with you specifically? Jimmy, Ari, and Bucky all consider spa/self-care to be a thing you should do with your girl friends (or your daughters, hint hint). These three place a heavy value on you keeping up those fun relationships with others. They also know that when the ladies do a spa day, the men folk are free to meet up for something else, like sports or drinking or both.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would' Ask List; Ko-Fi]

[igotanidea]

The remedy: Jason Todd x reader

(part 2 of how to be a good boyfriend series)

As of late Y/N was sad and tired and dealing with a whole whirlwind of negative emotions stemming from work overstimulation and pressure on her shoulders. Coming home exhausted, falling asleep on the couch, bordering the sickness but refusing to take some days off.

And it switched something in Jason’s head.

He was constantly around, asking her a whole amount of questions of what she’d like him to do for her, how could he be of help, how to ease her pain and make her days at least a little more bearable. Trying to the top of his abilities to be a good boyfriend, instead becoming the source of her headaches and irritation. And though the intension behind his behavior was quite obvious, and Y/N was doing her best to not lash out on him for being annoying, her willpower was wearing thin. Only waiting to snap and unleash the hell. All he had to do was just one more word, one more mistake that would push her over the edge.

It was only a matter of time.

***

“I made you a soup.” He smiled, being so proud of himself. Y/N was always fond of his dishes and now he was about to serve her a full three course meal with the dessert, having spent a few hours preparing something healthy to boost her mood and enhance her impaired health. “Come on, wash your hands, princess and I’ll set the table—”

“Stop…” she hissed, massaging her temples. “Just stop. Stop. Stop!”

“Y/N? What- what did I do? What happened? Is there something I can--?”

“Just stop fucking talking!”

If the command wasn’t enough to make him go silent, he would do it just out of sheer confusion mixed with hurt. Why was she mean while he was trying so hard to be there for her?

“I’m tired—” it took the great amount of self-control to form and say those words in hope he’ll understand he was making her feel trapped and suffocating.

“Okay. It’s okay princess. Do you maybe want to get some rest? We can eat later, I’ll make your bed and-“

“Ugh! Stop it Jason! Stop offering me so many things!”

“But-“

“Just shut up!”

Ouch. That must have hurt him and it reflected in his eyes and in his entire posture. Jason Todd just froze in the middle of the kitchen with a soup bowl in his hands, looking at her as if she was someone he didn’t know.

“I’m sorry – “ she whined realizing the damage done. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be mean-“

“I failed you again…”

“No, no you didn’t fail, it’s just-“ her voice faltered before she could finish the sentence. How was she supposed to tell him what the problem was while the right words just won’t come out to her head.

“I’m a terrible boyfriend.”

Great, now he was getting dramatic and turning into a giant, sad, beaten dog. Probably the last thing she needed and she was definitely not in the mood to try to placate him. Not while she was struggling to not fall apart herself while everything seemed too much.

“Jason—”

“It’s okay Y/N. It’s a fact and there’s nothing you can do with it. Clearly not even with those lessons you’ve been giving me.”

“One lesson. We had one lesson and it could hardly be called that. It was more like an advice to not listen to Grayson-“

“And still I’m not making any progress with it.”

“Lesson two.” She muttered, her head starting to kill her. “You don’t have to be my remedy to everything.”

“huh?” Jason frowned a little giving her a funny look.

“You don’t have to offer me stuff, come up with ways to make shit better, overwhelm me with choices and options. You don’t.”

“I don’t? But—”

“No. Sometimes, you just have to be. Let me whine, let me be weak without trying to uplift me. And not turn into my remedy to every word problem.”

“So like a pillow in case you are a crybaby?” He smirked and apart from the obvious tease she couldn’t deny Jason was a fast learner, regardless of his own opinion on the matter.

“Don’t push it.” She warned.

“Oh I’ll push it all the way. Now that I know you don’t want me to make you feel better-“

“HEY! I didn’t mean I want you to make me feel worse! You’re twisting my words. “

“Sure.” Jason shrugged casually, taking the perfect excuse to put his specific sense of humor on. “What were you expecting?”

“You’re such a jerk….”

“Just listening to your lessons love. It’s up to you how you’ll bring me up.” Jason laughed pulling her to the couch and trapping in his embrace and she knew she was about to get at least a few hours of teasing and mean jokes. But she wouldn’t have it any other way

“I’m gonna have to be careful with what I say from now on….”

“Yeah, you better. “

They snuggled close together enjoying the silence and the comfort of just being together.

[allprocarpetsteamers]

Breathe Easy: The Importance Of Air Duct Cleaning In Las Vegas

Are you breathing easy in Las Vegas? The air around us is crucial to our health and well-being, yet it's often overlooked. In this bustling city of lights, ensuring the quality of the air we breathe is essential. Join us as we delve into the world of air duct cleaning and discover why it's a game-changer for your indoor environment. Let's explore how clean Air Duct Cleaning Las Vegas home or business!

The Impact Of Poor Indoor Air Quality

Poor indoor air quality can significantly impact your health and well-being. When your air ducts are filled with dust, allergens, and pollutants, the air circulating in your home becomes contaminated. This can lead to respiratory issues, allergies, and other health problems for you and your family.

Breathing in polluted air consistently can aggravate existing conditions like asthma or allergies. It can also cause headaches, fatigue, and irritation of the eyes, nose, and throat. Additionally, poor indoor air quality may contribute to an overall decline in indoor comfort levels.

If addressed, indoor air quality can improve over time as contaminants continue to accumulate in the ductwork. This is why regular air duct cleaning is essential to maintain a healthy living environment for you and your loved ones.

Benefits Of Regular Air Duct Cleaning

When it comes to maintaining a healthy indoor environment, regular air duct cleaning is an essential component. Over time, dust, dirt, pet dander, and other contaminants can accumulate in your air ducts. These pollutants affect the quality of the air you breathe and the efficiency of your HVAC system.

Investing in regular air duct cleaning can improve the overall air quality in your home or office. Clean air ducts help reduce allergens and irritants that can exacerbate respiratory conditions like asthma or allergies. Additionally, they promote better airflow throughout your space, leading to improved energy efficiency and lower utility bills.

Moreover, regular air duct maintenance can extend your HVAC system's lifespan. When debris builds up in the ductwork, it forces the system to work harder to heat or cool your space, which can result in premature wear and tear on components. Ensuring that your air ducts are clean helps prevent unnecessary strain on your HVAC unit and reduces the risk of costly repairs.

Choosing A Reliable And Efficient Air Duct Cleaning Service In Las Vegas

Reliability and efficiency are key factors to consider when selecting an air duct cleaning service in Las Vegas. With the abundance of options available, it can be overwhelming to make the right choice.

Start by researching companies online and reading customer reviews to understand their reputation. Look for a company that is licensed and insured and has experienced technicians who use industry-standard equipment.

Ask about their process – a reputable service provider will conduct a thorough inspection before starting the cleaning process. Please inquire about additional services they offer, such as mold remediation or dryer vent cleaning.

Remember to request a detailed quote upfront with no hidden fees. A trustworthy company will provide transparency regarding its pricing structure.

Choosing a reliable and efficient air duct cleaning service in Las Vegas is essential for maintaining good indoor air quality and ensuring your HVAC system operates at its best.

Conclusion

In Las Vegas, where clean air is essential for comfort and health, air duct cleaning plays a vital role in maintaining good indoor air quality. Regular cleaning keeps your HVAC system clear of dust, debris, and contaminants so you can quickly know that the air circulating in your home is fresh and clean.

Choosing a reliable and efficient air duct cleaning service in Las Vegas ensures the job is done thoroughly and professionally. With the benefits of improved indoor air quality, energy efficiency, cost savings, and overall well-being at stake, investing in regular air duct cleaning pays off in more ways than one.

Don't wait until poor indoor air quality affects your health or increases energy bills. Take proactive steps to ensure your HVAC system runs efficiently by scheduling regular air duct cleaning with trusted professionals. Your lungs—and wallet—will thank you!

[builtbybrokenbells]

CAPITAL VICES | CAPITAL VIRTUES

The seven capital virtues, also known as contrary or remedial virtues, are those opposite the seven deadly sins. They are often enumerated as chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, patience, kindness, and humility.

Masterlist

Listen while reading: bed of roses - bon jovi

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of drinking, grief/loss of a parent, mentions of bad past relationships, fear/anxiety, mentions of sickness/illness, swearing, but mostly just fluff! sorry if i miss any!!

i couldn’t end this without a little sweetness to carry over until the next time. thank you all for every bit of love this story has received; you have made capital vices what it is, and i would not be here without you. sorry for any heartbreak I’ve caused, but I hope this suffices! this is finally the end, and although it is a chapter, it also serves as the epilogue. I love you all so very much, and as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

The morning came as it always does, bright and unsuspecting, sneaky and sometimes even hostile. When you opened your eyes for the first time on that sunny Sunday morning, dangerously bordering the afternoon hours, you were in a better mood than you had ever been. Not even the disruptive rays of light washing over your face could irritate you, nor the cluster of birds chirping in your backyard. Your chest was light, free from the weight of sadness and finally relaxing after relentless tension. You could inhale and fill your lungs without a stabbing reminder of what you missed so dearly, and the scent of Jake lingered in your pillows and sheets, even clinging on to the fibers of the shirt you were wearing.

The morning can not be bad when you wake up to such an abundance of love and all things that come along with it.

You turned, half expecting to see Jake sleeping soundly next to you, hoping to catch sight of his peaceful expression as the sun illuminated his beautiful features. When you looked next to you, you were not met by soft snores and a mess of long, brown hair. The bed was empty, only a divot in the mattress to remind you of him and his company. Your stomach sank, wondering if he’d gone back home already. You tried to ignore the nagging disappointment that came along with the thought of him leaving without a goodbye. You rubbed sleep from your eyes, begging your body to wake up the same as your mind had. With an outstretch of your limbs and a long, exaggerated yawn, you managed to throw the blankets from your legs and face the cold air.

As you stepped out of bed, you noticed more signs of another human life housed inside your home. The disappointment fled your body, replaced with an urgent sense of excitement. Quiet clanging of pots and pans could be heard from the kitchen, as well as light footsteps and the soft sound of music. The closer you got to your bedroom door, the more you could hear it. You grabbed a pair of shorts to slip on as you walked towards the exit from your room, advancing slowly so you could soak up the sight and sear it into your memory. A smile blossomed on your cheeks as you slowed to a stop. Leaning against the doorframe, you gazed out into the kitchen, watching Jake, shirtless and unsuspecting, tend to a pan on the stove. The coffee maker was lit up with blue lights, signaling its own anticipation to be used. From his phone played a slow melody, and his movements were so gentle and calculated, almost as if he was trying his best to remain undetected.

You wanted to run to him, wrap your arms around him and kiss your way through the morning. You craved his hand on your hip and your arms slung around his neck, clumsily dancing to the soft music. You wanted to hear him speak your name, to let the low tone settle deep in your bones and make home there, just so the memory could remain indefinitely. Instead, you stood and stared. You wanted it so badly, but your body would not allow it. He was a person meant to be admired, and that’s exactly what you intended to do.

He did not notice you, nor did he even think to look over his shoulder and check. You had no idea how he was so oblivious to your eyes burning holes into him, but you were grateful for his ignorance. It allowed you to watch him, unashamed and uninterrupted as you familiarized yourself with all of the small details. The way his hair swooped down and settled on the bare, tanned skin of his back. The way the defined outline of his muscles showcased every flex and tense that happened with every small movement and sudden motion. The pair of sweatpants, settled low on his hips and leaving little to the imagination. You listened as he hummed the lyrics to himself, every so often growing increasingly more passionate about the song. His inability to multitask allowed for the toast to pop from the toaster and make him jump in surprise, then drew his attention so much that the pan became long forgotten.

He was perfection, and you were just the lucky one who was able to appreciate it in such a way. You did not deserve such an angel, gracing your kitchen in the late morning while you dozed away in another room. It was staggering, the difference between Jake Kiszka during the day and in the late hours of the night. In the darkness, his skin was as red as blood, a pitchfork in hand as he tried to hide the devil horns settled on his skull. In the light of morning? He omitted an aura of white light, appearing blessed by god himself as the shiny, golden halo sat perfectly atop his head. He was the most confusing entity you had ever encountered, and for some strange reason, it only made you fall for him harder.

As you watched him, you began to second guess every notion you had previously concluded about him. The glass seemed to unfog, quickly becoming crystal clear as you viewed him in a whole new way. The man in your kitchen did not seem unholy, or like he held any wicked power or desires. He was a man, unfathomably perfect in everything he did. His beauty was blinding, and his heart was full of love waiting to be given to you. There was no possible way the man in your home was anything less than angelic, and your earlier fear of the unholy seemed to deconstruct itself the longer you watched.

The constant unease that was so often felt in your stomach was gone, as was the fear that normally accompanied it. For the first time since you met him—no, for the first time in years, life seemed perfect.

The feeling you felt before succumbing to sleep was gone, replaced only with love and happiness. Jake was not an evil entity, and with your new found strength, it now seemed completely possible to repent for the mistakes you had made.

With him by your side, you knew you could do anything.

You could not resist the urge to touch him any longer, stepping out into the brightly lit kitchen and approaching him with caution. When you were close enough, you extended your arm and placed your hand on his back, just over his shoulder blade. He jumped only slightly, realizing immediately that it was you from the calming effect of your touch. You placed your other hand on his bicep, stepping even closer and cornering him into the counter. You pressed your chest against his back, turning your head downwards placing a small kiss on his shoulder.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He said, his voice still laced with sleepiness. He let you stay in your position only for a moment before turning to face you. You gazed up at his face, stars dancing in your eyes as you gave him a soft smile. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” you hummed, neglecting to tell him that it was only because he was with you “and you?”

“Fantastically, ‘cause it was with you.” He did not seem to have any shame about the fact. Your cheeks dusted red at the sweetness of his words. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. He lingered there for a second, but eventually had to move on to tend to the food cooking on the stove. You couldn’t help but frown, wishing that the moment could have lasted for a little while longer.

“Breakfast?” You asked, moving to the coffeemaker to hit the brew button. You placed a cup underneath before turning to face him again. He looked back over his shoulder, a sheepish look on his face.

“Is that okay?” You thought about it for a moment, pretending to ponder the question.

“Of course it is, Jake.” You assured him, giving him a nod.

With that, the first heavenly virtue began to fill the room. Pride was non-existent, now replaced with a newfound sense of humility. Before, you were so stuck in your own ways that the simple idea of breakfast made you sick to your stomach. You could not digest the idea of showing or sharing emotional intimacy with him, but now, it was easier than falling asleep. In truth, humility had began to take over long before that moment. The night prior, when you bit your tongue and allowed him to speak his mind despite your belief that you were doing the right thing, your prideful behaviour was long forgotten. As he poured his heart out to you over a dozen roses and countless tears, you were no longer the most important, nor the one with the right answers. You swallowed your pride and allowed yourself to view things from his perspective, thus allowing the two of you to communicate effectively.

But, humility was not the first; in fact, the first virtue had appeared the night before, blooming alongside the begging of humility, when you were still convinced that evil coursed through his veins and bled into your own. When he showed up at your doorstep with nothing but love in his heart, you responded with patience instead of the wrath the two of you so often found yourselves in. You held the capacity to accept and delay your own suffering in an attempt to listen to his. You could have slammed the door, or argued until you were blue in the face without ever acknowledging that you might not be right or know best. It was something you so often did, but you loved him enough to hear his words without allowing your own emotions to get in the way. You loved Jake enough to be patient, which was something you had never done before in your entire life.

“Unless you had something else in mind?” He asked, switching off the element of the stove and pushing the pan to the side. He made sure that there was no fire hazards before returning to you. His hand settled on your hip and his index finger moved to your chin, guiding your head upwards. He was so close that it made your head spin and your heart thud against your chest dramatically.

“Like?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow at him. His nose was brushing against your own, his lips just barely parted from you.

“Continuing what we were doing last night?” He offered. You let out a small chuckle, leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. The kiss was short, sweet but effective in its simplicity.

“As tempting as that is, no.” You shook your head, your lips still lingering over his. “I want to have breakfast with you, Jake.” At the sound of your words, he nearly fell to his knees. “I want to be with you, just like this.”

“We can do that, angel.” He breathed, smiling down at you. “Go sit, I’ll be right over.” He motioned towards the kitchen table.

“Okay.” You agreed, giddy at the thought of domesticity with him. As you sat down, you felt an oddly warm feeling wash over you. It felt like freedom, and it felt so good. Not once had you approached Jake and shown him such vulnerability without hopes of something sexual in return. Actually, you weren’t sure if you had ever approached him with vulnerability first; he always seemed to be the one to pry the emotion from you. It was a beautiful thing to be able to love someone with no hesitation, and loving him made it all the more special.

Just like that, lust was destroyed by chastity. You had overcome the biggest obstacle that was in the way of opening your hearts to each other. You could rely on one another without the need for sex, and you could show him and express that you cared for him without taking your clothes off. Lust was the very thing that created your relationship, yet if you continued on the same path of prioritizing sexual pleasure over emotional connection, you would meet a tragic end. In that one fraction of a second, you had shown him that he was more than sex, and what he offered did not solely exist within the bedroom. You even believed that you could live a long and happy life without ever having sex with him again, because sitting down and sharing a meal was just as fulfilling as anything else.

You loved Jake for all he was, but the urge to sleep with him was still pressing despite your desire to do something as simple as share breakfast. Instead of acting on it, you surpressed your desire for him and gave him a warm smile as he placed a plate in front of you. It would be too easy, too predictable to throw everything else aside for something as superficial as sex. In the last five years of your life, sex had grown into something completely meaningless to you. What you were doing, sitting down, sipping coffee and sharing laughs, was the most meaningful thing you’d ever done. It was coated with meaning, almost so much so that you struggled to wrap your head around it.

You were done with superficialities; you wanted him to know you wholly and completely, without any defence or fear. You were tired of just sharing enough to keep him around, but never enough for him to know you. As you watched him eat the meal he had prepared for you both, you knew that Jake was the person you wanted to share your soul with. He was the only person who you trusted with it, and he was the only person who would protect it as if his life depended on it. The last three months had shown you enough of him for you to fall in love, but now you were the one who needed more. You needed every secret, to know where his body held scars from his childhood, and what his favorite subject in school was. You needed to hear about his parents, and all of the funny stories about his siblings from their youth. You needed it desperately, and you needed it now.

“Were you always close with your siblings? Or did that come with age?” You asked, looking at him over the top of your mug as you took a sip. He gave you a questioning look as he pondered your words.

“We’ve always been close.” He deducted, nodding his head as he answered. “I mean, we fought, but we’ve always been best friends.”

“Hmm,” you smiled, looking down at your plate. “I think the idea of you and Josh fighting is hilarious.”

“Well, there’s been lots of fights, and I’m sure there will be more to come.” He laughed quietly at the memories flooded his mind.

“What was your favourite subject in school?” You asked, catching his gaze again.

“Nothing.” He chuckled.

“Oh, come on.” You rolled your eyes. “There had to be one class you liked.”

“Music class in the ninth grade.” He said, smirking at your annoyed expression. “And I liked gym class.”

“Typical teenage boy.” You smiled.

“School wasn’t really my thing, but I made it through. Turns out you don’t need calculus to play a guitar, so it didn’t matter much in the end, anyway.”

“Guess so.” You agreed. “Did you break the rules a lot? You seem like the type.”

“Every now and again.” He shrugged, giving a sheepish smile. “What about you?”

“Never.” You laughed, finding the thought blasphemous. “My parents would have killed me. I liked school, and I was good at it. Did lots of extracurriculars and stuff, and always went to bed at ten.”

“Goody-two shoes?” He teased, making your cheeks burn red. “I’m just joking, sweetheart.” He said, reaching across the table and giving your hand a small squeeze.

“I was,” you sighed. “My sister was, too, so I guess my parents did great at their jobs.” You reminisced on your younger years as you spoke. “My favorite class was calculus, though, so watch what you say about it.”

“Calculus was your favorite?” He held back a laugh at the idea. “I didn’t think anyone’s favorite class was calculus.”

“What can I say,” you shrugged “I like math. It makes sense to me.”

“Okay,” he agreed, feeling no need to challenge it any further. “What about you and your sister? Were you always close?”

“Yes and no.” You pondered back on your relationship with her. “When we were very young, we fought all of the time. For a little while, we could barely even be in the same room. When we hit double digits, I think we finally realized we were stuck with each other, then we tried to be friends. By high school, we were inseparable, save for a few fights. Now I couldn’t imagine what life would be like without her.” You explained, leaning back in your chair and smiling at your own shenanigans. “My dad used to say we got along like a house on fire. When we were small, he called us little devils.”

“Hard to believe you would fight with anyone,” he smirked, sarcasm dripping from his tone. You gave him a small chuckle, unable to find an argument. You loved to argue, and you loved being right. Unfortunately, he had seen that side of you more than he’d seen anything else. He was quiet for a moment, then he took in a long breath, as if he was debating whether to speak again. Then, he found the courage and opened his mouth again. “Tell me about your dad.” You looked up at him, stunned at the bluntness of his words. “If you want to, of course.”

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered. You were shocked at his desire to know, because you had envisioned a life for yourself in which you would never be asked that question, and by doing so, you thought that you would never have to answer it. You dreaded talking about it because it was the hardest thing you had ever gone through, but now that you were faced with it, the prospect of telling him seemed enticing. Your dad was your whole world, and sharing his memory with Jake only made sense to you; he was the only person you felt would honor him the same way you did.

“He was the best man you could ever meet, and I don’t think I’m saying that because I’m biased.” You treaded carefully, trying to find the best way to phrase your thoughts. “He was loved by everyone, and the only people that didn’t like him were the ones who did wrong first. He was funny, he was caring, and he was so smart. I don’t think I ever remember him raising his voice, and even until the very end, he was as happy as ever.” Jake nodded along as you spoke, showing you that he was listening to every word. “He loved sports, and music, and he got up hours early to make us all breakfast on Saturday mornings without fail.” You smiled at the memory, wondering if you would ever taste another pancake that was as good as your father’s recipe.

“He was there for every school event and parent teacher meeting, and he was always so excited to help us with homework. He watched football religiously and he drank margaritas because he thought beer was disgusting. He used to play us guitar when he put us to bed, and he read us stories with the books upside down so we couldn’t read ahead of him.” Jake laughed at the thought, a real one that came straight from his chest. You caught his eye, the glisten of tears quickly turning into adoration for him. Suddenly, you wondered why you ever wanted to hide your life from him at all. You wanted him to know everything, and you wanted him to share the laughs and the tears and most of all, the love.

“He was my best friend, and to this day, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who understands me like he did. He taught me everything I know, and I am who I am because of his love. He knew the words to every Van Halen song and he dedicated all his spare time trying to play one song as good as Stevie Ray Vaughan.” You closed your eyes, remembering the relentless riffs that floated through the morning air in your childhood home. “He never could, but we always told him he did.”

“Not many can,” Jake corrected, defending his talent. You nodded in agreement, knowing he was right.

“He taught me how to love art and music and most of all, photography. He used to take pictures of us all on those disposable cameras all hours of the day. I’m sure he went through ten a week.” You nearly rolled your eyes at the thought of how many ridiculous pictures existed of you. “When he started getting sick, it didn’t seem like anything changed until… all of it did.” You let out a shaky breath, the strength of the emotion so strong that it made your stomach churn. “He got sick when I was in the tenth grade, and it took a while for him to realize that he was sick. He came home from the doctor and he didn’t change a thing. He did homework with us, he played guitar, he drank his margaritas while he watched football, and I think that all of us had a hard time processing that something was wrong because he never acted like it.” He hummed, giving your hand another gentle squeeze to encourage you to keep going.

“When he went to the hospital for the first time, I was in the eleventh grade. I think that was when I finally understood that something was wrong. He only stayed for a couple of days, but when he came home, we could finally see the difference in him.” You paused, looking down at the table to gather your thoughts. “He stopped playing guitar, and he stopped drinking margaritas. Football still played on the T.V., but I don’t think he was really watching it anymore. He took pictures, but not as often, and breakfast on Saturdays was very much on the back burner compared to everything else going on.”

“He was there, but he wasn’t.” He tried to put your ramblings into the proper words. It was like living with a ghost, and that was the only way you knew how to explain it.

“Yeah, exactly.” You breathed. “We had him for longer than we deserved, but I can’t help but feel selfish when I wish that we could have had him forever.”

“I don’t think you’re selfish at all, beautiful.” He shook his head. “It sounds like he was fantastic, and I wish I could have met him.”

“He would have adored you.” You chuckled, smiling softly at the idea. “He always told me to find someone who encourages me to stand up after I fall, rather than someone who picks me up off the ground. He wanted me to find someone who made me laugh, who listened, and most of all, who loved me like he loved my mom. If I knew my dad, he would have known that you were that person the minute he laid eyes on you.”

“I don’t know how your dad loved your mom, but by the sounds of it, it was with all of his heart.” Jake said, waiting for you to look up at him. When you caught his eye, he continued on. “And with you, that’s all I plan to do.” He gave you a smile, one that spoke louder than any of his previous words.

“I, uh,” you paused, clearing your throat to rid yourself of the tears rising in it. “I don’t talk about my dad a lot, not because I don’t want to, but because I’ve always felt like nobody was worth it. To know, or to know about him is a privilege, and I don’t think a lot of people deserve it. I know that you do, and I’d love to tell you all about him.”

“Whenever you want to tell me, I’ll be more than happy to listen.”

Temperance crushed any gluttony that remained within the two of you. How easy it would have been to forgo breakfast and take him to bed, and how badly you wanted it was incomprehensible. The two of you had solidified the notion that sex was most important many times, but now it no longer seemed to be so pressing. Knowing him, and him knowing you was the only thing that mattered. You were able to put your gluttonous habits to the side and show enough self-restraint to look beyond the surface. There was more to Jake than a pretty face and a devastatingly intoxicating charm. There were thoughts, values and beliefs that you did not know a thing about, yet craved to hear. But, temperance was only getting started, and there was so much more you wanted to discover.

“Can you play guitar for me?” You asked, almost out of nowhere. You’d been desperate to hear his hands work magic on the fretboard after using his music as lullabies all week.

“Oh, y-yeah.” He said, excited but caught off guard. There was so much you needed and wanted from him, and you felt like you had already wasted too much time. You weren’t willing to miss out on another moment of knowing him.

You reached your hand out to him, blinking away any sadness still remaining in your eyes as you both rose to your feet. You abandoned whatever was left on your plates and took off down the hallway in a mess of hushed giggles and smiled. You opened the door to the room that held so many memories, the last one not so pleasant in your mind. Instead of focusing on the hurt, you made a promise to yourself to replace all of the bad with the good. You took a seat on your piano bench as he grabbed the guitar from the stand, stopping for a moment to admire the frames hung on the wall.

“You take stunning pictures, y/n.” He said, taking a long look over a few photographs you had hung from a photoshoot you’d done with your sister and her dogs. “I’ve never seen such a good picture of a dog before.” He laughed, leaning it to get a closer look at the portrait of her Golden Retriever.

“Thank you.” You smiled, allowing him to take as much time as he wanted. Before, you were afraid of him knowing you so well. Your work was your most precious treasure, and him knowing all about it broke down a barrier you had worked so hard at building. Now, watching his wondrous expression and a charming smile, you wanted to share every photograph you had ever taken. He made you feel a pride in your work that surpassed anything you’d ever felt before. As he walked around the room, studying the frames, you hit a couple notes on the piano. Eventually, it sparked a desire in you to play more.

You began a slow descent into song often heard over the car radio when your father drove you to school. You drew it out, having fun with it after going so many days without playing. You did not notice, too caught up in the echoing sound of the piano bouncing off of the walls, but Jake's head turned away from the frames and was now pointed in your direction. His eyes were fixated on your face, drinking in the small expressions you made as your hands glided across the keys. A smile was on his lips as he settled the guitar strap around his neck, listening intently as he adjusted the tuning pegs. As you continued to play, he began plucking the strings in time with your hands.

“Sitting here wasted and wounded

At this old piano

Trying hard to capture

The moment this morning I don't know

'Cause a bottle of Vodka's still lodged in my head

And some blonde gave me nightmares

Think that she's still in my bed

As I dream about movies

They won't make of me when I'm dead.” You sang, looking over the top of the piano to catch Jake’s eye. He was already looking, sending you a smile as if to say ‘keep going’.

“With an ironclad fist

I wake up and french kiss the morning

While some marching band keeps its own beat in my head

While we're talking

About all of the things that I long to believe

About love, the truth, what you mean to me

And the truth is

Baby you're all that I need.” The subliminal message in the lyrics was astounding, and he felt it just as strongly as you did. You played a small run, watching him as he took a step closer to you. As you opened your mouth to keep singing, he joined in, too.

“I want to lay you down in a bed of roses

For tonight I'll sleep on a bed of nails

Oh I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is

And lay you down on a bed of roses.” The two of you finished together, stars dancing in your eyes and hearts hanging in the air. You were so in love with each other that it was hard to think of anything else.

“Well I'm so far away

Each step that I take is on my way home

A king's ransom in dimes, I'd give each night

To see through this payphone

Still I run out of time

Or it's hard to get through

Till the bird on the wire flies me back to you

I'll just close my eyes and whisper

"Baby, blind love is true".” You let him sing the next verse alone, completely enthralled by his voice. He was such a beautiful singer that it made you wonder why he did not do it more often. You could listen to him sing songs of nothing but tragedy and still shed tears over the beauty.

“I want to lay you down in a bed of roses

For tonight I'll sleep on a bed of nails

Oh I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is

And lay you down on a bed of roses.” You began to trail off early, both of you done singing and ready to lay the song to rest. You wanted to kiss him more than you wanted to finish the song, and when it came to Jake, you knew he would always be the most important. He played a tiny riff on the guitar to finish it off, smiling to himself as he looked back up at you.

“Bon Jovi?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

“My dad loved him.” You shrugged. “You should sing more often.”

“So should you.” He retorted without missing a beat. You both failed to bring up the fact that you had just shared so many intimate details with each other without even trying. “So, you think you’ll finally give my music a shot?” He asked, coming over to sit next to you.

“Don’t have to ‘give it a shot’,” you laughed, air quoting your words, “that solo in ‘The Weight Of Dreams’ could make anyone fall in love with you. I fell in love with it the minute I heard it.” The look of surprise on his face was apparent, and he could not seem to hide it. He certainly wasn’t expecting to hear you say that you had already listened, but especially not to hear you say the name of one of his songs.

“Y-you… you, uh…” he blinked a couple times, trying to process the new information. “You listened to it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, speaking softly. “Every night after… yeah.” You cut yourself off. “It helped me sleep.”

“Oh,” he breathed, looking over your sheepish expression. He felt sad that he was not there to share the experience with you, but he was touched to hear such sentiments. “Well, you don’t have to use Spotify anymore, sweetheart. I’ll play you guitar until my fingers fall off.” He chuckled, reaching over and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Whatever you want to hear, whenever you want to hear it.”

Slowly and quietly, generosity began to emerge and greed began to fade. Before, you had been so greedy that you wanted all of him without having to give anything back. Now, you wanted all of him, and you were willing to give him all of you in exchange for it. You no longer had a guard on your heart, wanting to bear it to him in the most intimate displays. As much as you wanted to know him, you wanted him to have all of you just the same.

“I’m sorry that I was so difficult, Jake.” You said, leaning into the soft touch of his hand. “I wish we could have done this a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry, too.” He said, running his thumb across your cheek. “That girl at the bar… I was so stupid, angel. You are the only thing I have ever wanted, and I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for hurting you.”

“Scott wasn’t anything, either.” You confessed. “I just wanted to make you feel the same way I felt. It was gross, and I don’t want to do that again. I want to love you, Jake. I want to put all of the bad stuff aside and start over. I want us to be happy and I want this to be healthy, and I’m willing to do whatever I can to make it work.”

“I am too, sweetheart.” He leaned over, careful not to disturb the guitar in his lap. He pressed a kiss to your lips, lingering for a moment to enjoy the sweetness.

Charity replaced envy, allowing the two of you to show kindness and tolerance while judging each other. In the moment, emotion was so powerful that it was difficult to see the truth behind the situation. Now, you could both clearly understand that the hurtful words and actions stemmed directly from your own broken hearts. You did not want to hurt each other, nor did you want to make things worse. You were doing what you thought was best at the time to heal your own heartbreak. The pain had settled and allowed the two of you to see each other exactly as you were. You were so in love with each other that it made your head spin and your stomach twist with butterflies, and you were so regretful for how you treated each other. Moving on was what you intended to do, and leaving everything in the past was the only way to do it.

“I love you, y/n.” He whispered, his lips still lingering over your own.

“I love you, Jake.” You replied, smiling at the thought. “Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

“The only person that deserves to be thanked is you.” He corrected. “I want to love you better than anyone ever has. You deserve the world, and I want to be the person who can give it to you.”

“You already do.” You assured him. “More than you’ll ever know.”

“Be mine, angel?” He asked, pulling back with a hopeful expression. The three simple words took your breath away. The prospect of being his was more comforting than anything you’d ever felt before. You didn’t know how to love, or even what it meant to be in a relationship anymore, but you knew you wanted to try with him. For him, you would do anything.

“Of course, Jake.” You nodded, leaning in and pressing another kiss to his lips. In that moment, all of the sin seemed to wash away. The evil you had done was replaced with your virtuous love. The devil was not before you, nor was he within you. You were two people who loved each other endlessly and equally, trying to atone for the mistakes you had made while navigating such a profound journey. “I would love nothing more.” With one last smile, he pulled you into one last kiss, showcasing just how happy he was to know that he was yours and you were his.

You were not people of god, nor were you the devil's disciples; you were yourself, and Jake was Jake. You were two regular human beings who could make each other happy, but also had the luxury of making mistakes. There was no evil in the room, nor was there a white light and halos above your heads. You had sinned, and you had practiced virtues, but most of all, you learned to love each other efficiently and properly. You could communicate clearly, and you could open up without fear of rejection or disappointment. He was a charming man with an intoxicating personality, and you were a witty hot-head who stole his heart. Your skin was not red, nor were there devil horns atop your head. Your fear of him had little to do with any wicked powers, but everything to do with your inability to understand the effect he had on you.

Jake made it easier to fall in love than anyone ever had, and falling in love had never been your forte. You were terrified of love, but loving him was too euphoric to deny. With time, you knew that you could grow comfortable with all the things you once feared, and it was because he was the one holding your hand and helping you through it. Jake would not solve your problems, but that was okay. You can be your own worst enemy, or you can be your biggest inspiration; this time, instead of letting your fears paralyze you, you decide to lead yourself into an era of love and light. You guided yourself through the darkest times, and you would continue to do so until the end of time, but he would always be there to support you through it.

In him, you found a best friend and a confidant. You found something you did not believe existed, and something you thought was only true in fiction. You found a safe place to rest and somewhere to call home, a hug on the coldest of days and a rush of fresh air when it was difficult to breathe. You wanted to love him until you collapsed under the weight of your own adoration, and until you were long forgotten and had become one with the earth. In every lifetime, you would search for him, and in every universe, you would love him just the same.

Your sin had caught up to you, but you were strong enough to repent from the wrath of the devil. You were equally as virtuous as you were wicked, and it was the whole point of being alive; making mistakes and struggling is to be expected, but to go forth despite the failure is the only way to survive. You were human beings with apparent flaws, yet you loved each other enough to see past the mistakes and move forward despite them. Past the darkness, you found something you worried you would never experience, and now he was the only thing that mattered. You would go through every struggle and all of the pain all over again if it meant you would end up in his arms. He was worth it, and you had no doubt in your mind about it.

Your last virtue took over as you rested in his arms. Sloth had caused neglect in the grand aspect of your lives. You avoided telling each other about your feelings, and you avoided the yearning felt in your hearts. Now, diligence was in the air, and it was much more powerful that any of the sins you had committed. You were committed to happiness, and you were both able and willing to put careful and persistent work into making the relationship as happy and as healthy as possible. You would work until your body collapsed from exhaustion, and you would not complain about a single thing, because you were the lucky, and the only one to be able to fall in love with Jake Kiszka.

The End

TAGLIST: @sacredjake @profitofthedune @thewritingbeforesunrise @sacredthethreadgvf @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @freefallthoughts @jaketlove @clairesjointshurt @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @earthgrlsreasy @starshine-gvf @brujamagik @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire @twistedmelodies @gretavangroupie @alwaysonthemend @edgingthedarkness @gvfpal @sinarainbows @writingcold @starcatcher-jake @literal-dead-leaf @takenbythemadness @gretasfallingsky @hsfallingsky @freyjalw @itsafullmoon @lyndz2names @blacksoul-27 @i-love-gvf @vikingsisthenewsexy @mp0801 @mindastreamofcolours @indigogvf @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jordie-gvf @cassy-face @highway-tuna @creadliz98 @dancingcarbon @do-it-jakey-baby @lallisonl

[aller-geez]

C:\KANAI\system32\emotions.exe

an oc snz fic ♡︎

WOW would you look at that? I finally finished my Kanai fic that is meant to directly chronologically follow @thekinkyleopard ‘s fic, (found here) and it didn’t even take me a whole month to write this time •ﻌ•

Fic includes 7.5k words snzing ofc from a miserably sick Kanai, Alistar being an ass until he’s not, Drae being sweet, some swearing, and one mention of nausea to anyone trying to avoid that~ (❀❛ ֊ ❛„) ♡⃛ @thekinkyleopard also owns Alistar ⋆.˚

Pls enjoy~ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 𓁹‿𓁹

Kanai prided himself on never indulging in the luxury of a mid-day nap. Every time he gave in, it was like willingly stepping into a suffocating fog that drained the life from his body. The consequences were always the same - sluggishness and a lack of productivity - and for someone as driven and determined as him, this was simply unacceptable.

His daily routine was meticulously planned out, down to the minute, and he followed it like a well-oiled machine without question. Draeko had once described him as "obsessive… even maybe a little compulsive…" in his strict adherence to his schedule.

But today, Kanai's unexpected slumber was shattered by the jarring chime of the doorbell followed by the frantic whispers from his housemates, scolding each other for not telling the delivery driver to avoid ringing the bell. With an irritated grunt muffled against his bony forearm that was stuffed under his head, Kanai shifted in his seat slightly, still not conscious enough to register when or where he happened to be sleeping.

Only a few moments pass before the hellhound's body convulses with a sudden jolt, his muscles screaming in protest as he struggledto move. With one eye forced open against the heavy fog of exhaustion, he surveys his bedroom, his heart racing with confusion. An unfamiliar itchy tightness within his thin chest forced Kanai to cough into his shoulder a few times; at first they were just dry, ticklish coughs that could be easily explained by a dry throat after waking up, or plain old allergies, but each time he would finally feel like he had managed to get rid of the irritation, his breath would catch desperately in his throat on an unassuming inhale and send him sputtering another string of increasingly deep, harsh coughs down towards his lap. Kanai's chest rises and falls erratically with each cough, his blank expression ever so slightly contorting in discomfort.

Panicked, the hellion sat up as straight as possible in the heavy padded leather office chair he sat in, and clutched at his chest as more violent coughs wracked his body. The exhaustion from his unanticipated nap was quickly replaced with fear as he struggled to catch his breath. This wasn't normal for him - he never got sick… Unless of course, the red headed demon that he called his best friend decided to bring home another cold to share like he decided to do every so often.

The hellion was fortunate to be almost immune to illnesses the mutt picked up, however, as his natural body temperature was too high for most normal pathogens to survive.

However, no one in the house had been sick recently…

As the coughing fit finally subsided, Kanai took in deep gulps of air and tried to calm himself down. Although while trying to catch his breath, the hound was made painfully aware of the thick obstruction within his sinuses that stretched up behind his eyes and down into his throat, to which he sighed deeply, a small wheeze turning up the tail end of it.

Out of all of the symptoms that came with an earthly illness, his nose being stuffed and swollen was definitely Kanai’s least favorite. He could deal with the sneezing; after being on earth for almost a year, he had honestly got accustomed to the involuntary action and Draeko usually always had some sort of home remedy or trick to minimize any symptoms. Coughing was a little worse, but nothing he couldn’t tough through.

But a completely blocked nose that can never decide if it wants to be runny or not, keeping you on the edge of your seat with a tissue or at least a sleeve available to catch any stray moisture that may escape, and every small tilt of your head would result in the wet cement shifting in your sinus cavity like the sand within an hourglass… That was Kanai’s version of hell…

The hound tried a testing sniff, only to find not even a molecule of oxygen would be able to get through the congestion that had packed itself tightly into his face. With an even more defeated sigh and a small wiggle of his heavily pierced nose, which by this time was dusted with a very soft shade of pink, he willed his dual colored eyes to focus on his surroundings.

The room was ablaze with blinding light from both overhead fixtures, a strange contrast to the usual darkness preferred by the hound.

Looking down towards his lap, it suddenly occurred to him that he was— or at least had been before being overcome by such an intense coughing fit— splayed out on his rather expensive leather office chair and draped across the top of the huge, very meticulously organized desk.

Every cord that ran from his computer or other electronics was precisely rolled up and secured with a small, color-coded tie. The organized bundles hung in perfect alignment on the wall behind his desk, surrounded by an array of sleek, modern bins and organizers. Each compartment was labeled with a specific purpose and everything had its designated place. The hound, a stickler for detail, even had his paper clips sorted by color in a small plastic drawer. Not a single pen could be found out of place on the smooth surface of his desk. It was a model of efficiency and order, a reflection of his meticulous personality.

A psychology textbook lay open on the desk in front of him, its pages taunting him with clear descriptions of the spectrum of emotions and what he so desperately wanted to understand. He checked it out from the library as a distraction from their disastrous trip to the beach, but even now it couldn't keep his attention. Honestly, Kanai couldn’t stop replaying the day before over and over in his head— how he had lost his shit and even broke down sobbing to his best friend over seemingly nothing while they tried to enjoy a very wet, and miserable first trip to the beach.

—Something that’s he should have avoided by just checking the weather beforehand had he not been so scatterbrained recently.

The notebook next to it was filled with jumbled scribbles of notes that started off neat and organized before descending into chaos.

The hound couldn't remember anything after reading the page that lay open on the desk. Had he fallen asleep? But in broad daylight? That didn't make sense. The dark line scrawled across the page from the final word only added to his confusion. He’d never fallen asleep while writing before either..

As a hellhound, he prided himself on being strong and in control, but now he felt lost and vulnerable. How could something as simple as reading turn into such an impossible feat? He wasn't used to feeling conflicted, and it was disorienting to say the least.

With an extremely waterlogged snuffle that failed to dislodge any of the slime within his airways, Kanai was again choked off by another fit of strong coughs that left him breathless afterward. The ailing hound just hung his head in his hands and groaned softly. He did NOT feel well…

“….Do you think that woke up Nai?” Draeko whispered cautiously to the redhead that stood beside him in the hallway, clutching two large pizza boxes tightly in his blackened hands.

Alistar shrugged, tossing a nonchalant glance towards the hounds door that sat cracked open a few inches.

“Dunno. Go find out? Tell ‘em we got ‘za.” The redhead responded simply, already turning to make his way towards the kitchen to stuff his face with pizza before the desperate, barking cough from Kanai’s room stopped him in his tracks.

Shooting a wide eyed glance towards the other, the mutt returned the same look before mouthing “yikes..” while shaking his head.

As the two stood together in silence in the hallway, listening for more signs of life from the hellhound’s room, a sultry smirk began to twist into the demon’s features.

“He always knows just what I need to unwind after a hard week~ he didn’t need to bring home a cold just for little ol’ me~” Alistar mewled quietly, spinning in place once with excitement before Draeko smacked the back his head with an open palm. The demon flew back around quickly to be face to face with the pastel mutt who furrowed his brow.

“I’m sure he didn’t get sick FOR you, Al. You and I both know how much Nai hates being sick… so please try to take it easy on him, okay? That cough sounds pretty bad..”

Alistar scoffed and waved one of his blackened hands dismissively towards the other, his other hand firmly on the outer most sides of the pizza boxes to hold them up against his body. Draeko rolled his eyes with a huff.

“Well, after you put the pizza down, can you at least grab a pillow and a bunch of blankets from the cabinet and put ‘em on the couch for Nai? Im gonna try to get him up so I can keep an eye on him.” The mutt’s entire demeanor had changed to one with more authority and confidence as he assumed his role as the hound’s caretaker, and began to go down a mental check list of items he could give Kanai to help him feel better.

Rolling his bright crimson eyes, the demon threw his head back and sighed dramatically at the simple request. “Ugh, fine. Whatever, I’ll figure it out.” The redhead hissed softly as he trudged down the hallway to their kitchen, tucking away both boxes of pizza securely onto their counter top before beginning his search for the requested supplies.

Even if the door to Kanai’s room wasn’t completely closed, Draeko still rapped his knuckles against the wooden door softly. “Hey, Nai? You up yet?” The hybrid called out in a low, gentle tone.

After a few seconds of quiet shuffling sounds from within the hounds room, a hoarse reply with its consonants more than rounded from thick congestion finally came from behind the door and was quickly trailed by a wet sniffle. “I amb.”

With a warm, gentle smile, Draeko pushed open the hellions bedroom door to find Kanai still sitting right where the mutt had last seen him a few hours prior.

As he slowly turned towards the door to make eye contact with the mutt, the look of utter exhaustion written on the hounds features made the hybrid’s expression twist into an empathetic frown as he crossed the bedroom to sit on the corner of the bed facing the other.

“Awh, I was going to say ‘good morning, sleepy head!’ but it doesn’t look like you’re having the best time in here.” Draeko mewled softly, brushing the hound’s slightly damp navy blue strands of hair from his forehead.

Kanai replied with a completely waterlogged sniffle, his vacant gaze shifting to settle on the hybrid in front of him.

“It is also ndot bordi’g, Luciftias.” He replied flatly, to which Drae chuckled as he shook his head.

Without a chance to respond, Kanai's typical stoic expression was replaced with a distant gaze as his blackened eyes suddenly began to squint, brimming with tears. His head slowly tilted backwards as his eyebrows knit together on his forehead, his chest shivering beneath the hoodie that clung to his damp skin. His pierced nostrils flared helplessly in irritation before he snapped forward, unleashing two powerful, uncovered sneezes.

"hh'KSHHh'hieww!! Hih— huh'KIISSHH'ah!" The hellhound's sneezes were directed towards his desk, leaving behind a trail of saliva on its dark wooden surface. He let out a few strained coughs before leaning back, wincing at the sensation in his throat. Caught off guard, he made no attempt to cover the sneezes that exploded from his face and instead, he just slurped back a soupy sniffle that made the mutt visibly cringe.

“Bless you, Nai, shit. You sound horrible..” Draeko's voice was filled with concern as he took in the other's appearance. His eyes traced over Kanai's flushed face and sweat-dampened hair. Raising the back of his hand to the other’s cheek, the hybrid’s brow furrowed at the increased amount of heat radiating from his grey skin. The warmth seeping through his palm made him worry for the hound’s well-being.

“I think you have a fever…” Drae hummed between his pursed lips as he rocked back onto his other foot to get a better overall view of his house mate, his frown deepening.

Kanai’s expression remained unchanged as he nearly scoffed at the suggestion with a small shake of his head, but instantly his features were again snatched up in desperation before he could utter a response.

“Hhh—! hh’KTishhh’yiew!” The hellhound sneezed forcefully again, misting the air in front of him with virus laden saliva before another string of raspy coughs clawed their way from his chest. The mutt recoiled slightly, but quickly corrected himself by letting his hand rest gently against the hellions back, his fingertips lovingly ghosting across the damp fabric of his hoodie.

After a moment, Kanai was able to muffle the ticklish feeling within his lungs and he cleared his throat before his rebuttal.

“Do dot worry yourself, Luciftias…” he panted with a new rasp to his already scratchy voice. Slowly willing his lanky body to a standing position, the hound had to steady himself on the side of his desk as the room swam around him. Draeko almost reached out to steady him but decided against it, concern clearly written on his face.

“Careful, Nai…”

"I abm dnot idfirmb." Kanai spoke through gritted teeth, his consonants rounded with congestion. His heterochromatic eyes drooped as his body leaned against the desk, exhausted just from the effort it took to stay upright. "It is just... a mbere cold, Luciftias… onde that I will e’ddure." He coughed once, violently, and the sound echoed around the room, making Draeko wince again.

“Why don’t you at least come out and try to eat some pizza with Al and me?," Draeko suggested gently with an encouraging smile, reaching out to place a hand on Kanai's shoulder. The hybrid felt him shiver beneath the material of his shirt, like a shudder running through his entire body despite it not being visible from the outside. "Let me take care of you..."

Kanai stared at him with tired eyes before slowly straightening to his full height again and clearing his throat into a clenched fist. The rain outside picked up suddenly and pattered against the window behind Draeko, casting a misty gray light over them both.

With a defeated sigh, Kanai nodded his agreement. It would do him well to get some nutrients and warmth, and it couldn't hurt to simply sit with the others; as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he wanted the company. He knew the pet was worried for him, even if he insisted he was just dealing with a cold. Despite feeling weak and drained, he knew that he should eat something to keep up his strength.

The hound allowed himself to be guided slowly towards the door, picking up his phone on the way and shoving it into a pocket of his sweatpants. He swayed unsteadily for a moment before grabbing onto Draeko's arm for support, not wanting to fall over. The hybrid glanced at him worriedly but didn't say anything, simply nod his encouragement and following along as Kanai lumbered down the stairs to find Al waiting by the pizza boxes on the kitchen counter.

Well— not so much waiting…

The demon leaned his hip against the counter over the boxes with his phone in one hand, a half eaten slice of pizza in the other. He chewed on a mouthful loudly while scrolling through some random social media feed until his attention was captured by his housemates.

“Hey! Look what the mutt dragged in!” Alistar cheered, extending the half eaten slice in his hand towards the two as they shuffled in. His ruby eyes glanced over them both curiously as they entered, his brow furrowing slightly and his grin disappearing when he noticed how Kanai moved.

“Al! I told you not to call me that!” The hybrid cried, placing another well deserved smack against the back of the hellion’s head when he was close enough.

"Uncle Fucking Christ, when did you get so violent?” The redhead chuckled, carelessly discarding his phone to rub the sore spot on the back of his head.

Ignoring the demon’s jeers, Drae sighed in frustration and shook his head before turning to address the hellhound that stood statuesque behind him now.

“You doing okay?” The hybrid’s lips curled into a gentle empathetic smile as he reached out to squeeze the other’s arm in reassurance.

Kanai, who’s vacant gaze was fixed on a random spot on the counter, nodded slowly, his lips parted slightly as he was forced to mouth breathe. With another dangerously waterlogged sniffle, the hound swallowed. He knew if he were to try to respond with anything more, he would simply be choked off by another fit of harsh coughs that even now, threatened to clamber up his throat.

“What fuckin gives?," Alistar asked callously, annoyed by the damper in the mood. He was already back to scrolling on his phone, stuffing another bite of pizza into his open mouth without looking up from his screen.

“He’s sick, Alistar… it’s bad this time…”

He honestly couldn’t understand why his best friend wasn’t celebrating over his illness; not only did it feel AMAZING, (not to mention the incredible sex…), but because of their high body temperatures and infernal immune systems, neither of them got to experience mortal illnesses very often. Shit, Kanai should be STOKED about such an opportunity to dive deeper into his pathogen research. Alistar wouldn’t squander such an amazing turn of events, that’s for sure. He was so fucking ungratef—

“Hhh— HEH'kkssshuuh!! Eh'kgsssshihh! Hhah—! hah’KSHHh’iiew! hhH’KIISSHH’ue!!” The previously silent hellion suddenly veered to the side, burying his face into the crook of his elbow just in time to contain his sneezes, before a thick, deep cough proceeded to once again steal the breath from his lungs.

Ripped from his thoughts by the sudden violent sneezes, the redheads lips turned up into a smirk and he eyed his best friend up and down slowly. See, this is exactly what he was talking about… What kind of crazy person could hate that?

Draeko rubbed up and down Kanai’s back until the other managed to get his breathing back to a normal pattern, although the hound couldn’t bare to return the mutt’s gaze in fear of seeing his big dual colored eyes filled with concern and sadness for his current state.

“Now you’re speakin’ my language, buddy!” Alistar cheered, once again raising the slice of pizza in his hand like a toast before taking a massive bite, chewing loudly again.

Draeko cringed at the sound of Alistar’s obnoxious chomping, but he tried his best to swallow his annoyance as he knew it would only egg the demon on and encourage him. With a forced exhale, the smaller male turned completely around so his back was towards Al, and the hellhound had all of his attention.

Kanai’s blank expression remained the same as always, however Draeko knew his well enough to see how truly run down and crappy his mate must feel. His naturally grey skin had somehow less saturation now, except in his face. The hounds black scleras were shadowed with dark purple circles, and his cheeks, nose and forehead all were dusted in a shade of pink that was almost never seen on the hellion’s complexion. He just looked like a sad puppy and it broke the hybrid’s heart to see.

“Just ignore him, okay? Here, let’s go sit on the couch… Maybe we can play some Untitled Goose Game to try and help you feel better?” Draeko offered with another gentle smile, wrapping his arms around the other in a loving embrace.

Kanai felt almost like he was in a dream, like nothing felt real except the ever present clogged feeling in his entire head, as if someone had packed as much cotton within his skull as they could, and of course, the constant buzzing within his sensitive nose.

Usually, the suggestion of playing the hellhound’s favorite game would be enough to shake any ailment he was facing, but when his response was only a nod and a few tired blinks, Draeko felt worry begin to burn brightly within his chest. He really must feel absolutely awful if a game of logic that you get to play as a cheeky goose didn’t shake his near catatonic state.

The mutt tossed a glance at Alistar, who despite his own selfish intentions also seemed to pick up on hounds disinterest and decided to keep his comments to himself, stuffing the last of his pizza crust into his mouth.

Kanai let himself be guided to the largest couch in the living room, Draeko's fingers resting lightly on his shoulder. The pillows and blankets that he had asked Alistar to put out for Kanai were where he was asked to leave them, however, they all laid in a huge tangled mass over the arm instead of being spread out over the cushions. With another frustrated sigh, the hybrid shook his head and simply scooted the pile of bedding over to give his mate plenty of space to sit how he felt comfortable.

The hound leaned heavily against the back of the couch as he sat down, his breathing labored but trying to keep himself together. He could feel Draeko watching him, his gaze full of concern, but also an underlying need to care for and protect him. It was reassuring - a feeling he hadn't ever experienced.

As he settled into his usual seat, his eyes flickered to the boxes of pizza that Alistar proceeded to set on the coffee table in front of him, and instinctively he tried to take a deep breath through his nose. Despite the clogged state of his sinuses, he managed to detect the scents of the tomato sauce, cheese and garlic. It made him even more nauseous than he had been before, but he felt it would be rude to refuse food when Draeko was trying so hard to be of help. He picked up a slice with trembling fingers and brought it close to his lips, taking a small bite that nearly made him gag. The taste was alien: tangy and hot, burning its way down his throat. He closed his eyes as he chewed slowly, the texture thick and stringy in his mouth like glue before he swallowed hard. Another coughing fit seized him afterward, forcing out a soft "fuck" from his cracked lips when he eventually caught his breath.

Kanai felt his temperature spike, his cheeks flushing as he opened his eyes to find Draeko's concerned gaze locked onto him.

"You are worryigg yourself too mbuch, agaidn, Luciftias," he croaked out, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. The room seemed to spin around him, and he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. His heart thudded in his chest as if it were trying to escape from his ribcage, and his head throbbed with every beat. The air seemed to shimmer around him like heat rising off of asphalt on a summer's day. "I amb dnot goigg to expire." — although truthfully, he felt as if he were already on Death’s door.

Alistar sat on the loveseat across from them, his crimson gaze locked on the hound for a few moments. The demon tried his best to brush off the sight of moisture filling his best friend’s eyes again; an occurrence that had only happened now twice in the entire 2000 some odd years that their friendship had existed. The redhead didn’t want to admit to himself, or anyone for that matter, how much the sudden show of emotion from Kanai the past few days concerned him, as he had never even had to ponder the thought of something happening to his companion.

They were immortal for fuck sake. So he would always have Kanai following him around like the little sidekick he had always been, despite the hound being a few hundred years older than Alistar. — Right?

He couldn't help but notice how thin and vulnerable Kanai looked in this moment - an unexpected side effect of whatever cold or flu-like illness had overtaken him so suddenly. Secretly, his black heart ached at seeing him like this; usually, he was always such a vibrant presence in their little group.

Just as the redhead ripped his attention from his sad looking friend, the very subtle flaring of Kanai’s nostrils drew his line of sight right back. He found himself unable to look away as the sensitive appendage quivered helplessly, forcing the hound to involuntarily gasp in desperation before snapping forward forcefully.

“Eh'kgsssshihh! Hhh— hh’KTishhh’yiew!! ‪hih’KKSSSHHHuh! Hihh— sndddff!! ‬hIH’IKTSHhh’uuh!” With an uncharacteristically pathetic groan, the hound smashed his pierced nostrils between his index finger and thumb, dramatically scrubbing his nose within an inch of its life to try and rid himself of the sensation.

"Nai, you okay?" Draeko asked, concerned as he watched the hound desperately try to clear his nose. The hybrid had never seen Kanai like this before, and it worried him.

"I amb finde, Luciftias," Kanai mumbled, his voice nasally and thick with congestion although he had tried to sound reassuring. "You are worryigg t-too mbuch againd..." He paused to sneeze again, his whole body convulsing as another sharp blast of air exploded from his nostrils. "Hih'kkssshh!!"

Alistar couldn't help but smirk at the sight of the usually stoic and composed hound reduced to a sneezing mess. But even as he chuckled, his concern for his friend grew. It wasn't like Kanai to become so ill— especially so suddenly.

“But you have a fever…” the hybrids voice trailed off at the end of his sentence, but Al still heard the other’s statement and audibly scoffed, leaning forward to fish a new piece of pizza from the box on the table.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, pup. We’re from hell, fevers are impossible in these vessels~” The demon waved his fresh pizza slice in the mutt’s face, just trying to be annoying out of boredom.

By this point, Draeko was done with Al’s shit, and as soon as the demon’s food crossed into his personal bubble, he quickly slapped it from the redheads grasp, sending the slice of pepperoni pizza sliding across the floor a rather large distance with a splat of tomato sauce left at the original point of contact with the floor.

Alistar fell silent for a second, a look of disbelief written on his face as he looked back and forth between Draeko’s smug expression and the now soiled slice of pizza across the room. “—Man, what the fuck?”

“Stop fucking around and just support Kanai, Alistar… Why is that so hard for you? There’s a time and a place for that shit…” Draeko spat angrily with more venom than he had intended, however, it needed to be said.

“Damn, go off, pup.” The demon laughed dryly, shaking his head before standing up and crossing living room to where his slice of pizza flew and picking it up off of the floor with a grunt. The demon inspected both sides of the slice briefly before shrugging and taking a large bite. Draeko had him fucked up if he thought he would waste a perfectly good slice of pizza because he wanted to be bold. Alistar made his way back to his spot on the love seat before reaching for the tv remote on the other edge of the coffee table and turning on the large flat screen on the wall in front of them.

"Do you need anything?" The pastel hybrid asked, moving closer to Kanai. "I can make you some tea or get you something else to eat?”

The hound shook his head slowly. "You have mby gratitude, Luciftias… I just ndeed sombe rest."

Draeko nodded understandingly and patted the hellion's back before reaching into the box in front of him to pull out his own piece of pizza. He licked his lips hungrily, scooting back on the couch all the way before taking a sizable bite, his eyes now focused on the TV as Alistar scanned through channels in search of something to watch.

As the TV guide flickered past Saw 3, Alistar’s expression lit up with excitement, and Drae rolled his bright eyes, but decided against any kind of argument against it. One hand gently squeezed Kanai’s shoulder from behind in reassurance and the hound cleared his throat and snuffled thickly before sliding back to lay his head on the mutt’s lap.

“Here, wait—“ Draeko whispered, reaching forward to swipe one of the pillows from the pile that Alistar had brought in for Kanai and stuffed it under the other’s head, his navy blue hair that still felt slightly damp falling across the soft fabric. He sighed in content, sniffling softly as he melted into the pillow.

As the three of them settled in for the movie, Draeko leaned back into the plush cushions and let out a content sigh. He had always enjoyed spending time with the other two men, even if Alistar could be a pain in the ass sometimes and Kanai was currently out of commission. But in this moment, he couldn't help but feel grateful for their company.

Kanai, on the other hand, seemed to be struggling to stay awake as he snuggled up against the mutt’s lap. The pastel hybrid kept a close eye on him, ready to offer comfort or assistance whenever needed.

Alistar seemed to have calmed down from his earlier antics and was now fully immersed in the movie playing on the TV. The demon chuckled at some of the more brutal scenes, stretching out on the loveseat with his feet hanging over one arm and his head propped up on the other.

Draeko carded his fingers through Kanai’s hair lovingly, stopping every once in a while to gently massage the places his horns jutted from his head, and the hellhound was quickly lulled to sleep. He snored softly as he slept, his mouth hanging open in order to breathe. Occasionally the hybrid would lean forward to give him a quick, protective glance, and if needed, gently wipe away any leakage from his raw looking nose.

Time passed quickly as they watched the movie, with occasional comments or jokes thrown in by Alistar, which of course was followed by a giggle from Draeko who had to hide his face behind his hands during the more gory scenes.

A little more than halfway through the movie, the banter between the two began to slow as their eyelids got heavier, and it didn’t take long before both men were asleep, sprawled out on their respective seats with the tv blaring in the background. The light bouncing off of the screen was the only illumination throughout the whole room as the rain still pattered against the roof, setting the scene for a perfect night in…

Well, that’s not exactly how it played out for Kanai, of course…

Alistar was awoken by gasping, desperate coughing that sounded muffled by something, and in his nearly unconscious state, he tried his best to ignore the unfamiliar sound, squeezing his eyes shut and clearing his mind in order to drift back to sleep—

“H’KngxsstSH! …….hhhih—… Hnkt'KNXTuhh! ihH’ktdSHhh!”

See, now that was a sound he DID know… Well, he was awake now. Maybe he could at least finesse some head from the hellhound since they both were up… y’know, for research purposes…

With a defeated sigh, the demon peeled his ruby colored eyes open, squinting as he looked around the dark living room. He immediately noticed Kanai sitting on the very edge of the couch away from the hybrid who had completely sprawled his small body across the entire couch and had the pillow that Kanai had been using wrapped between his legs. The hound clutched one of the throw pillows that Draeko had insisted they needed a few months prior, his face pressed tightly against the fabric to muffle any involuntary noise.

“Aye— Nai. Cut that shit out, you’re gonna suffocate your vessel. Just let them out. I can’t even imagine the fiasco it would be trying to convince your dad to let you come back to earth, ESPECIALLY if your vessel ends up 6 feet under.” Alistar yawned as he sat up completely, stretching his arms above his head as his feet thudded to the hardwood floor under him.

With his face buried into the pillow in his lap and all of his focus being on staying as quiet as possible while he fought for his life against his symptoms, Kanai had been too preoccupied to notice the demon wake up, and the sound of Alistar’s voice startled him, causing him to jump a little. The sharp gasp he took because of it restarted his helpless coughing fit, the congestion in his chest rattling with every inhale.

When the hound could finally manage to take a shaky breath in without sputtering more rasping coughs, he lifted his face sadly with an unproductive, soupy snort.

“I diddt wadnt to wake Luciftias… snnddff! He will start to worry add his braind will mbake himb sick againd if he worries too mbuch, Doddnie…” The hound rasped quickly, his voice shot and crackling at every few words. The end of his sentence dissolved into a few more violent coughs, but he quickly quieted himself as Alistar’s brow furrowed, a mixture of frustration and almost… concern? written on his face.

The demon huffed softly, coming to sit beside Kanai on the couch. "Fuck that, sometimes you have to be selfish, Kanai. As both your trusted Chaperone on earth, and your best friend, I seriously can’t have you suffocating to death just to make shit easier to swallow for our mortal pet, aight?" Without thinking, he reached over and tousled the hounds damp navy locks before brushing the wild strands back out of his face with what almost more resembled a gentle smile instead of the usual coy smirk he usually wore. Catching himself quickly, Alistar scoffed to try and mask his slip up before tearing his ruby colored irises from Kanai’s intense blue and brown ones.

"How the fuck did ya even end up this sick, Nai? There definitely should be an award you get for being the first infernal being to experience a fever, pal." Alistar smirked at the other, shaking his head with disapproval.

Kanai gave the demon a weak shrug, followed by another thick sniffle and a sharp clearing of his throat. His eyes were bloodshot behind the black hue and glassy with exhaustion and the struggle to breathe; he looked about as miserable as he felt.

After a moment, the hound looked up at Alistar with a quiet plea in his gaze.

“Doddnie?”

“Wha?” The redhead turned his head slightly to look at Kanai warily.

"Could... Could you mbake mbe sombe of the pet’s leaf water? He mbade sombe when he was sick add it helped..." He whimpered softly at the raw feeling in his throat and chest as he spoke.

"...What? You mean Tea? ...Right. Okay, yeah I can do that. No problem," Alistar replied with faux confidence, slightly taken aback by the request, as the hellhound almost never asked for favors. He rose from his seated position and went to head to the kitchen, scratching his head while debating if he should google how to make tea or just wing it. He finally decided on the latter route and began loudly rifling through the cupboard in search of the item he had seen the mutt use to boil water for his own tea.

After a few minutes of clanging and cursing, Alistar emerged from the cupboard with a kettle and a couple of tea bags in hand. He filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil, his mind racing as he tried to remember how long it usually took for water to boil.

Kanai watched the demon's movements with tired eyes, grateful for his help but also feeling guilty for imposing on him. It wasn't like Alistar owed him anything, and he had just rudely woken his friend up from his sleep.

"Mby Apologies, Doddnie..." Kanai whispered, coughing softly into his hand. "I shouldd't have asked..."

The redhead turned to look at him with an incredulous raised eyebrow. "Stop apologizing, alright? Just get better. Or yknow— you could always give it to me since you’re so against being blessed with such a glorious sounding illness." The demon punctuated his statement with a shrug, although his offer was dead serious.

The hound gave him a weak chuckle in response before sinking deeper into the couch cushions. Alistar looked back at the stove anxiously and tapped his black fingertips against the counter top, hoping the water would boil soon.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the kettle whistled and Alistar quickly turned off the stove before pouring hot water into a mug, and tucking a tea bag into it. You would never imagine he’d only half paid attention whenever he’d seen the mutt make his own tea. Dunking the bag into the water a few times started to darken the shade of the water until it slowly began to resemble the beverages his pet typically enjoyed, although he couldn’t help but feel like he was forgetting something…

The demon quickly glanced up at thier kitchen cabinet, and when he noticed the jar of honey on the shelf, he smirked confidently before snatching it from between the other various items on the shelf that the mutt enjoyed, and popping open the cap. The demon hadn’t the slightest clue how much to use, so he simply squeezed out a VERY generous amount of the viscous liquid into the mug and it quickly dissolved into the hot water. Satisfied with the outcome of his endeavor, the redhead mentally patted himself on the back before carefully carrying the hot mug over to the couch and handing it to Kanai who took it in both hands with a grateful nod.

"Be careful, dumbass, it’s hot," he warned the hellion when he saw him about to take a big gulp from his cup, chuckling softly.

Kanai nodded weakly before obeying and sipping slowly at his tea. The warm liquid soothed his throat and chest slightly as he let out a content sigh.

"Thandks..." He mumbled gratefully.

"No problem," Alistar replied nonchalantly, trying not to show how much he actually cared about his best friend’s well-being. "Just don't expect me to make you tea all the time now. I have a reputation to uphold, you know."

Kanai rolled eyes with a shake of his head and Al couldn’t help but smirk. “Do dnot worry Doddnie, I wondt tell Luciftias.” The hound gestured with his head towards Draeko who still remained asleep despite all of the noise going on around him, and Al snorted in response.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved Kanai off with one blackened hand, a smirk on his face as he turned to make his way back into the kitchen to clean up the mess he had made while looking for the kettle. There was no way he wanted to be awoken in the morning by the mutt’s bitching about a mess he didn’t make.

The tea instantly began to soothe the hounds throat as he continued to sip on it, although after a few sips, the steam that arose from the hot beverage began to loosen the thick congestion within his sinuses, reigniting the buzzing within his nose that he had JUST gotten to die down, and his breath began to catch in his throat. Kanai tried desperately to sniff back the unbearable prickly feeling that threatened to explode out of him again, twisting and scrunching his nose helplessly, but it was no use. His chest hiked quickly twice, filling to max capacity as he gasped in preparation, before—

“hh’KTishhh’yiew!! ‪hih’KKSSSHHHuh! Huh—! ‬hh'KSHHh'hieww!! HHeHh— heh'KIISSHH'hiew!” Kanai snapped forward again weakly, just barely avoiding spilling boiling tea all over himself by slipping it onto the table in front of him. A soft whimper left the hounds lips as he straightened into his seat, the small glimmer of the hellions true self that had returned moments before quickly retreated again once he was reminded of how unwell he truly felt.

Muffling a series of sharp coughs into his hoodie sleeve, Kanai leaned his heavy head against the side of the couch, his already intensely dark eyes now slightly sunken in and framed with deep purple circles. The hound’s lanky body draped over the furniture in such a way that he looked much like a sad, wilted flower; His Navy blue hair sticking to his damp forehead and his pierced lips parted just enough to allow oxygen to pass though. After a moment of the hellion struggling to catch his breath, Kanai’s heterochromatic irises slowly lifted towards the redhead who now stood in the middle of the kitchen with his nose buried in his phone screen and he cleared his throat with a small grimace.

“Hey, Doddnie?”

The redhead lifted his head from his phone screen lazily, his bright ruby colored eyes meeting his friends vacant expression. “Sup?”

“Where are we?"

Alistar lowered his phone to his side and turned to face Kanai, leaning against the counter, and crossing his arms.

This was a game they played, but one they hadn't touched in a while. Draeko had employed it quite a bit when he needed a little help with grounding himself after a bipolar episode; if he was somewhere without Alistar or Kanai when he eventually crumbled, he’d text one of them—where are we?

And the hellions would get the text, and know it was an SOS from their pet, typically answering quickly-- “we’re at an ICP concert. They just called us up on stage” or “we’re at that museum of stars and planets (….Planetarium) that you enjoy and we’re holding hands” or even just “we’re in bed. How am I doing?” They’d go on and on, detailing a wide variety of different scenes for Draeko to imagine and distract him from his own racing thoughts.

Kanai felt dizzy and sweaty and vaguely like he was going to sneeze again, but that he might explode if he did. “Where are we?”

The corners of the demons mouth curled up into a soft smirk, the innocence of his best friend in such a state making him shake his head as he came to the couch and plopped down next to Kanai. “We’re at the aquarium you keep not so subtly sending me links for.. It’s hot. We’re walking through the building and you’re reading me every single one of those lil plaques in front of the tanks with some random ass fun fact about a weird looking ocean thing with an unpronounceable name like those Anen— Ameminy—? I don’t even fucking know.. so I’ll definitely know more about ocean shit than I will ever need or want.” The redhead threw back his head with a snort at his own humor. Al’s usual impenetrable hard outer shell seemingly melted into a puddle at the demons feet.

“Mmm.” Kanai hummed softly through a thick wall of congestion, his breath snagging on the tail end and trailed by a string of raspy coughs that bursts out immediately after, barely a breath between them.

After a moment, he took a few testing breaths, as deep as he could, and shook his head against the dizziness.

“Nai…, what’s wrong?”

The hound could feel that same prickling warmth in the corners of his eyes that he had earlier, and he desperately tried to swallow the sizable lump that had lodged itself in his throat. ‘why is this happening? Did I do something to cause this?’ Kanai asked internally.

“You didn’t like the story?” Alistar asked his best friend softly, just as unsure how to navigate the sudden near menopausal mood swings from the previously emotionless hellhound.

The hound shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut now to try and contain the moisture that pooled behind his eyelids.

“What’s wrong?” Al pushed the other’s damp navy colored hair back and the amount of heat that rose off of the other’s scalp nearly made the demon recoil in surprise. “Nai… The mutt was right, you’re fucking burning up…”

“…But where are we?” Kanai whispered.

The redhead looked at him for a minute, and Kanai wondered, panicked, what he’d said to make his best friend look so sad. But then Alistar was hugging him, holding him in a tight embrace, and everything was okay. He nuzzled into the demon’s sweatshirt and knew exactly where he was.

Home.

Thanks so much for reading this far and I hope you liked it! Helped me to scratch my every present Hellboys itch ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა any feedback you have is also very appreciated ఌ︎.

[octakiseronliker]

20 + eighthcest!!

20. laughing into the kiss

"You are being," Silas says severely, "completely and utterly ridiculous."

"Am not," Colum replies, tone completely devoid of amusement. "It's a real and serious condition."

"It is not."

"It is. And you would see your nephew die of it rather than administer remedy."

Colum is laying flat on his back in his cavalier's cot, eyes closed, feigning near-death. It is not a difficult thing to pretend, in his perpetually exhausted condition. He surely looks half-gone already. The purpose of this exercise is to buy him more time laying flat on his back in his bed, because his mattress feels better on his spine than does standing. So far, it is working, even if it does result in his being harangued by his increasingly irritated uncle for his pretended illness.

"There is no such thing," Silas says very sternly, "as a disease that renders you unable to get out of your bed and engage in your daily tasks ⁠unless ⁠—"

"I'm dying, Uncle. You care not at all that I'm dying. I feel myself fading even now."

"You are not ⁠—"

"The light of the Lord descends ⁠—"

"You are nearly forty years old ⁠—"

"And I'll not see another, for your callousness ⁠—"

"There is not a disease," Silas repeats, rather loudly, "that means you cannot get up like a grown man and do the work the Lord proscribes you before you have received a kiss."

The elders are going to hear him in the hall at this rate. If Colum didn't know better, he would say that Silas Octakiseron, twenty years old, devoted servant of the Emperor Undying, head of the government of the Eighth House, Master Templar of the Order of the White Glass, foremost religious official of the Dominicus system, frequent lover of the humble cavalier primary Colum Asht, was about one moment short of stomping his foot.

He suppresses a smile, but it's a near thing. He can feel his lips quirk.

"You are laughing at me," Silas says imperiously. "And being incredibly foolish in doing so."

"Not at all, Master. I find myself very grave. I face Death with my head high and eyes forward, as befits a cavalier of the Eighth, knowing that the Lord Over the River waits to call me home, surely in only moments ⁠—"

"Colum!"

"And yet an ailment so easily healed ⁠—"

"The Eighth House does not negotiate with terrorists!"

"A breach so simply repaired ⁠—"

"I am not rewarding this behavior!"

"A solution the one I love best in the world is so uniquely capable of providing ⁠—"

"Ugh!" Silas finally declaims, and though Colum's eyes are closed he can envision with perfect clarity the pinched expression that accompanies this, just as it has always looked.

"You are such a child," he grumbles. "I was supposed to have my hair done ten minutes ago to deliver the late morning mass and now I am going to be tardy, and I will blame you, Colum Asht, if anyone asks after the cause."

Colum cracks one eye open, just slightly, determined not to laugh. Silas, very pink in the face, crosses over to him and grips his face none too gently in both small hands, bending down to peck him perfunctorily on the mouth. He yelps when Colum catches him by the waist in one arm, sitting up and kissing him properly. He does laugh then, just a bit, in his triumph, and Silas makes a disapproving sound in response.

For a moment Colum almost thinks the unimpeachable Silas has forgotten himself, because disapproval or no, he allows Colum to kiss him rather deeply, almost sliding an arm up and around his neck. If he had, he remembers himself very quickly, because he pushes Colum away with an irritable noise, and in a great rush announces, "There, you're healed, stop being an idiot and get up before I make you offer penance during the service."

"Of course, Master Templar," Colum says, rising at last with a painful, crackle-jointed stretch and, still in his sleep clothes, dutifully trailing Silas to his desk to tie up his hair.

In the end, he has only made him five minutes late.

[meiluu]

Ghostface pt.1

Ghostface/ Reader cw: stalking, mentions of murder, gore…

You were so pretty, dressed in simple pajamas as you readied yourself for bed. Unaware of the pair of eyes tracking your every movement. Lurking in the shadows of the night, eyes never once straying from your figure. Utterly hypnotized by everything you did, you were so pure- simple to understand. Never once did he think you were anything but honest. It was the reason he spent most of his nights watching you. During the day- with the few interactions he had with you- you always devoted your entire attention to him. No matter what he spoke about, whether it was his irritating job, or his delight in one of his books. You always listened.

Your presence brought him a certain relief, one that was different than when he killed someone. The feeling of watching his latest victim bleed out, helped to remedy him in a way that was similar to revenge. A wounded man inflicting the same wounds he was given upon by his oppressor. Though this wasn’t the best analogy, seeing as he was never ‘oppressed’ by his victims, at most he would get pissed off at his victims- one of the many reasons he picked his victims in the first place. But you- you brought him a relief that was like soothing a wound. Coming to you before going out and hunting gave him the focus to dose out more pain upon his victims, you were the perfect motivator. Watching you turn off the lights to your humble one- story home. Waiting until you fell asleep to make his way to your back door. With practiced precision unlocked your door and stepped into your home. The comforting scent of one of your candles lingers in your living room. Quiet footsteps inch their way to your bedroom. Door left ajar, making it so much easier to enter your room without the possibility of waking you. Body shrouded in dark clothing, mask covering his face. The bone white paint of the mask is easy to spot even with the room being nearly enveloped in darkness. Tilting his head, latching onto every curve of your body.

Stepping up to your bed, a gloved hand reaches out- caution thrown to the wind. He has watched you for so long, and he couldn't keep denying himself any longer, he just wanted one simple touch. With a foreign gentleness, he softly brushes a stray piece of hair from your face tucking it securely behind your ear. Your warmth seeps into his gloves, like he was hypnotized, he leans his face towards yours. Inhaling your scent, his eyes roll into the back of his head. Even with the few encounters he's had with you he has only ever gotten a small taste of your scent. But now it's like a drug to his system, body going into overdrive- blood furiously pumping throughout his entire being. Slowly pulling himself away from you, he continues his same routine that he created ever since he started watching you. Getting comfortable in your chair by your desk, having the best view of you. There he comes down from his high that he got just from your scent and warmth. A few hours pass, and there he sits watching over you, eyes locked onto your every breath, every subtle twitch within your sleep. When the hour reaches three, he silently retreats from your home, making sure to leave everything as it was.

The chilly air of the night quickly awakens his body, his mind now switching into that of a hunter. A smile dawns upon his face, although it's hidden behind his mask, he starts on his journey to his next victim. An irritating pile of flesh that was becoming an eyesore within his daily life. After walking a far distance he finally gets to his motorcycle, he was going to have to drive a pretty good distance to reach his next victim. But it would all be worth it when he got to see the blood splat across his boots, with the unforgettable look of fear in their eyes. Even with the relatively long drive, all of his victims had been worth the wait. He just wished that he could freely kill those within his town- but he had to be smart, and that meant no killing in his immediate vicinity.

The roar of his bike brought him out of his thoughts, taking off his mask to replace it with his helmet. Zipping up his backpack, he plugs in his earphones- going to his favorite playlist. Kicking up the kickstand he speeds out of the ditch he parked in, with nothing but the moon illuminating the road he sets out on his next dose of relief.

*got inspired by a tiktok, will write a pt.2 to this. This is mainly for my own enjoyment :3 *

[moonlight1237]

Rue, ("Ruta Graveolens")

The name name "Ruta" Latin name comes from the Greek word "Reuo" which means "To be free" or "To be set free"

Folk names; Garden Rue, German Rue, Herb of Grace, Herby Grass, Hreow, Mother of Herbs, Ruta, Rewe, Herb of Repentance.

Gender; Masc

Planet; Mars

Elements; Fire

Growing and Planet Care

- Perennial

- Native to the Balkan Peninsula

- Recommended to have full sun at parts of the day and partial sun for a few hours a day

- Keep the soil moist but use well-draining soils

- Drought resistant and able to handle hot dry environments

- Put in herbal gardens to add foliage, repeal bugs (especially in some areas Japanese beetles), and attract butterflies in the blooming season

- Avoid overwatering and it's not recommended to surround in mulch if it holds too much moisture it can cause root rot.

- Known to have a bluish tint in the leaves

- Deer resistant

- You should use long sleeves and gloves when pruning and messing with the leaves due to the oils on the Rue leaves that can cause major skin irritation.

- Said to grow for centuries

Spiritual Associations and Folklore Associations

-Love (believed to be an aphrodisiac)

-"Hex-breaker", "Curse-breaker"

-Exorcism/cleansing

-A very protective plant, It was made into wreaths, grown in front of homes and churches, dried and carried on a person for safe travel, and hung on doors.

-One of the biggest associations is that it is believed to repeal the evil eye in Mediterranean and South American cultures.

- It is said to grow best "when stolen" or take a cutting from an already grown plant

- There is a heavy belief in its healing abilities and was used often in the past, but it is known that if it's ingested in large amounts it can be poisonous.

- In Italian folk magic it was even common to use in baneful magic workings

- In places in Italy they would sometimes wash newborn babies in water steeped in Rue

Medicinal Associations

- Said to help eyesight by chewing leaves

- A common ingredient in poison anti-dotes

- Said to encourage Menstruation

- Abortifaction

There are many possible medicinal uses but I cannot put them down in good faith as the plant has to be prepared just right and in the right amounts to avoid personal harm, always contact healthcare professionals before using herbal remedies!!!

Symbolism

Adultery, Sorrow, Regret, Repentance, virginity, Purification, remembrance and good fortune.

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Type 3

As requested by @sleepyowlwrites, here's a little prequel to this story:

There are three permanent types of diabetes, he remembered from his training. The first you're born with, and have to manage using insulin. The second you pick up during your life, and can sometimes manage with changes to diet and exercise, or other medication. The third you contract upon your death. There's nothing you can do about that.

Dr Theodore 'Ted' Spong was a good-humoured man. As parish physician, he had to be. People only came to him with complaints, and he couldn't very well meet them with his own; if he had any grumbles or gripes, he'd long since learnt to tuck them away, like the good brandy he kept in a cabinet back home. He largely worked in the public eye, but some things were best mulled over in his own time.

He hadn't grown up in the sticks, but he liked it here. Outside of surgery hours, he enjoyed long walks across the moors, taking in the beauty of the mist-soaked landscape; within them, he met a range of fascinating characters, the sort of people you never got to meet in the city, each with their own idiosyncrasies and health complaints. He'd come across conditions he'd only read about, and patients who'd never learnt to read.

The people here led simple lives, divorced from the innovation and progress that drowned the city in smoke, but that meant his job had been anything but. They could be credulous at times, and a large part of his time was spent championing science over superstition, miracle cures and folk remedies. Unfortunately, they now had a champion as well.

There was a new doctor in town, by the name of Madame Silja, and she was undoing all of his hard work. To call her a doctor was a courtesy, for she had clearly never studied for a licence as he had, or read any book of medicine less than a century old. She was driving his parish backwards, towards the dark ages of draining bad humours away, although he never saw her wading for leeches on his walks. In fact, he'd barely seen her at all, until the night she showed up at his surgery door.

"I feel unwell," Silja said. She looked it, too. Her face was gaunt and drained, her body likewise emaciated underneath her clothes, visible even in the gloom. This was a woman at death's door as much as his.

Ted fought the temptation to gloat. Oh, and the leeches didn't hit the spot? Come crawling for some proper medicine, have we? That wouldn't be right. Nemesis or not, this woman lived in the parish, and that made her his patient. He was a good natured man, and a physician first of all. If he was to bring her out into the light, the best way would be to lead by example.

"What are your symptoms?" he asked, ushering her inside. She stood uncertain in the doorway, perhaps also having second thoughts about coming to him for help, but there was no time to lose. "Please, come in."

"I feel... tired," she told him, collapsing on a proffered armchair. The cushion barely sank under her weight.

"You're losing weight?"

Silja nodded. "I'm losing my appetite. But in its place there's this incessant thirst, a void no amount of water seems to sate."

"Any changes to your mood? Feeling suddenly irritable?

"What do you think?" she snapped. "I've just told you I'm thirsty all the time. Yes, it's irritating. Have you ever had an itch that you can't scratch?"

Ted usually told his patients not to scratch any itch, but he kept quiet and let her settle down. Madame Silja seemed so frail, but there was still something threatening about her - something unsettling and strange. It was a tingle at the back of his neck, like something primal, but he forced it down again. He wouldn't scratch that itch either.

He had no room for prejudice in his work, nor outside of it, and that was probably all this was. He didn't often see people with her kind of ancestry, not since he'd left the city. Whatever ancestry that was. Her skin was dark, although it seemed that it had since grown paler. She reminded him of a colleague from his studies, an Ottoman doctor by the name of Şefik. Was her name similar? Perhaps he could try to build a bridge between them.

"Tell me - you wouldn't happen to have any Turkish blood in you, by any chance?"

"Oh, I dare say I might," Silja replied. The question had served its purpose, for she flashed a smile for the first time, but Ted found himself more unsettled than ever. "Why do you ask? Is it something to do with my illness?"

"No, no, I was just curious," he said, increasingly nervous. "I know it isn't my place to guess, but I thought I'd take a stab in the dark."

"I'm not a fan of those, as a rule," she said. "But thank you for taking an interest. My patients are... rarely conversational. I don't often get to talk about myself. Do you find the same? Do you live nearby?"

"The good news is that I think I recognise your symptoms." Ted moved back onto steadier ground. "Although I'll need to take a blood sample."

"Oh, of course."

"For testing," he clarified. Anxiety or not, he wouldn't tolerate any of that nonsense here, in his temple of modern medicine. "Then we'll move on to treatment."

It was diabetes, he was sure, but he didn't know which strand. Was this a late diagnosis of type one? She didn't look much like a typical case for type two. There were others, he knew: gestational diabetes, picked up in pregnancy to meet the additional demands on the body. Perhaps it was something like that. A change, as if the whole body was gestating, metamorphosing into something... no, there was no medical basis for that. What was he saying?

"You might need to start taking medicine," he told her. "But mostly I suspect you'll need to make some changes to your diet."

"That's fine by me," she said, flashing another awful smile. "I'd figured that part out myself."

[foxymacchiato]

Attack on Titan OC - Sara Weber🩵🦢💐

♡. ToyHou.se | Instagram | AO3

~

Name: Sara Weber

Meaning: Sara- princess (pronounced as S-R-ra); Weber- weaver

Nickname(s): Blondie (by Nathanael), Princess (by Shadis)

Alias (if any): N/A

Age: 16 (850); 20 (854)

Gender: Female

Nationality: Eldian (French descent)

Birthday: October 9th, 834

Birthplace: Stohess District, Wall Rose

Current Residence: Trost District, Wall Rose; Pasture outside of Stohess District 

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Relationship Status: Taken, later married

Language(s) spoken: Eldian

Life-Long Dream: To fulfill a purposeful life in helping others 

Goal(s): To expand her knowledge in the medical field, to protect her family, to marry Nathanael and have a family

Like(s): Flowers, cooking, children, helping those in need, long walks in the meadow, visiting the bakery, sewing and embroidery, girl time in the barracks 

Dislike(s): Rainy days, cats, Nathanael and Eren fighting, arrogant people, people who take advantage of others, messes 

Bad Habit(s): Taps her foot when she grows impatient, too nice for her own good, can come off as pompous

Hobbies: Flower-pressing, scrapbooking, horseback riding, embroidery, cooking 

Fear(s): The titans getting inside the walls, losing Nathanael and her friends in the battlefield, ending up alone, Elijah hurting her family, spiders 

Personality: Classy, calm, elegant, humble, enthusiastic, genuine, companionly, moralistic, well-mannered, polite

Favorites(not necessary)-

Food(s): Hazelnut soup, raspberries

Color(s): Light blue

Season(s): Spring

Activities: Reading, embroidery, sword-fighting, horseback-riding

Time of Day: Morning, midday

Extras: Animals- doves; Literature- romance, fantasy; Flower- Iris

Appearance-

Height: 5’3” (160 cm)

Weight: 107 lbs. (49 kg)

Hair style: Curly, pulled back into a bun, falls down past her shoulder

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Hazel

Skin Tone: Posy-pale

Body Shape/Build: Slightly muscular, slender, small hips, slim figure, pink lips

Birthmarks: N/A

Scar(s): N/A

Other: N/A

Health-

Memory: Normal, no issues

Sight (do you need glasses?): Normal

Mental: She has a fairly calm composure and can keep herself under control even under pressure

Physical: She takes care of her body very well, however she’s not the strongest in her squad

Sleep patterns (how you sleep and how much rest do you get?): She makes sure to have a fairly average sleep schedule. The only times she really breaks this is when she and the girls in the barracks stay up gossiping.

Allergies/Other: She’s allergic to cats. While she tries not to let this be an issue when she moves into the Schuyler household, who own a cat named Agatha, she can’t be near the cat for too long otherwise she will start sneezing and get irritation in her eyes and nose. Dr. Finch provides her with one of his remedies to help her manage her allergy.

Abilities/Statistics (1- lowly skilled, 10- highly skilled and tell why)-

3D Maneuvering Gear: 6/10

Intelligence: 8/10

Martial Arts: 7/10

Battle Skill: 4/10

Agility: 6.6/10

Strategy: 4/10

Teamwork: 9/10

Passion: 8/10

Affiliation: Medic

Former Affiliation: 104th Cadet Corps 

Grad. Rank: 46th

Status (Alive, Missing, etc.): Alive

Relationships-

Parent(s): Michael Weber (father), Elsa Weber (mother)

Sibling(s): N/A

Other Relative(s): Nathanael Schuyler (husband), Alexandria Schuyler (daughter), Miriam Schuyler (mother-in-law), Taylor Schuyler (sister-in-law), Corine Schuyler (sister-in-law), Clovis Schuyler (brother-in-law)

Love Interest: Melody Oglethorpe, Nathanael Schuyler 

Best Friend(s): Melody Oglethorpe, Taylor Schuyler, Hanna Diament

Friend(s): Franz Kefka, Marco Bodt, Mina Caroline, Sasha Blouse, Krista Lenz

Enemy(ies): Titans, Kenny Ackerman, Elijah Kaufman

Hero(es): Dr. Finch

Rival(s): N/A

Quotes:

“I wouldn’t really consider myself a fighter, but I want to help people who have been through enough trouble these five years.”

“Nathanael, just promise me no matter what you'll come back home safe.”

“I don't care if you think I need to keep my mouth shut, you are not going to speak to me in that tone or treat me like I don't have a mind of my own.”

History/Life: Sara Weber is the daughter of Michael and Elsa Weber of Stohess District, two noble doctors of the town. Before the birth of their daughter, Michael worked as a medic within the military, although he never had any first-hand experience and mostly treated the injured soldiers from the various regiments (his highest number of patients being from the Survey Corps). He transferred out to work as the town's doctors as a way to stay closer to home and spend more time with his family. Elsa took time off to become a stay-at-home mom and focus on raising Sara, teaching her how to act as a proper and well-mannered young lady. Sara grew up having a happy childhood and a doting family, but they never spoiled her and taught her how to be humble towards others, hence her caring nature which made her very well-liked among her peers, and she even attracted some admirers. Even as a girl coming from such wealth, Sara never once let her wealth define her. However, as fulfilling as her life was, Sara couldn't help but feel that deep down something was missing; of course, she had everything a girl her age would desire, but deep down she wanted to do something meaningful that was outside of her comfort zone and use it as a way to help those who were less fortunate than her. This was a main factor that led her to sign up for the 104th Cadet Corps to find her purpose. Even if she didn't have a set goal as to why she signed up as of yet, what she did know is she still wanted to help others and this would be a great starting point.

The first few days of her training were rough for a girl of her status. The commandant didn't have high expectations from her given that she was seen as the "pretty rich girl of Stohess.” But it didn't take long for them to see that she was far more than a pretty face and she showed potential to be a great and resourceful soldier. While she wasn’t the most physically strongest cadet, she did prove to be an excellent martial artist and her ability to maneuver the gear was considered above average; there was also her knowledge in the medical field that showed to be useful in the case of an injury on-duty; she would even help out her fellow comrades that were injured during their training. She was very well-liked among her bunkmates and became part of Nathanael Schuyler's friend group—consisting of Sam Dossam, Taylor Schuyler, and her old friend and past crush Mel Oglethorpe—and had even received a few admirers, among them being Mel and Nathanael. Sara and Mel pursued a romantic relationship for a short period of time, and they soon made a mutual understanding that they would remain as friends. Nathanael always had a crush on Sara since the moment he first met eyes with her the day they arrived at the camps, and they would often flirt with each other that it became an on-going joke that they acted like a married couple. They trained together frequently and on their off-days, they would go to town together and use this as an excuse to spend time together. A year into their studies, Nathanael and Sara officially became a couple. Nathanael’s family welcomed her with open arms almost immediately, yet her family wasn't too thrilled about this arrangement since he didn't come from a status of wealth much to Michael's standards. They couldn’t convince Sara otherwise as she didn't care about Nathanael’s status and loved him for him, nor did that stop her from continuing to see him.

Upon graduation, Sara had plans to join the medic squad. Nathanael was unsurprisingly hesitant of this idea as he feared she would be received first-handed to the battlefields, but he still wanted to support his girlfriend’s career. It wasn’t until the battle of Trost and the first-hand experience in what the titans are capable of that Sara changed her mind and backed out because she still desired to have a family and to someday marry Nathanael. She moved to Trost to live with Miriam and the twins, and got a job as a nurse alongside Dr. Finch, a close family friend of the Schuyler family, and helped aid the elderly doctor in tending to sick and injured patients. Sara would use her combat skills to protect her family from attackers, going as far as to shoot them with Miriam's rifle and taking the girls to safety. 

Nathanael and Sara were seen as the perfect couple, and there are times that Nathanael believes that he is not good enough to be with such a noble and charismatic young lady as her, even after his involvement with the Military Police during the uprising. Nathanael and Sara were married after the successful recovery mission of Wall Maria, and not long after they would have their daughter Alexandria. 

For years, Sara wanted nothing more but to have a good life that was fulfilling enough for her. Even though things turned out much different than she was expecting, she was able to achieve her goal of helping many people, and was blessed with a career that she was satisfied with and a beautiful family of her own. In the end, there was nothing more that she could ask for. 

Bonus Facts: 

-Her voice: Japanese- Akiko Yajima (Angela Blanc, Black Butler); English- Mandy Moore (Rapunzel, Tangled)

-Her name is pronounced "s-R-ra"

-She has the scent of lavender.

-She’s a Libra.

-Her alignment is neutral-good.

-In a modern AU, Sara gets a job working in a hospital as a nurse, and is often working alongside Dr. Finch. She is of course married to Nathanael and very close to his family, and they have their daughter Alexandria. She would have a combination of a sporty girly-girl and vintage aesthetic.

-She is inspired by Fleur Delacour from Harry Potter (specifically the book variation)

-She wanted to name her first daughter Catherine after her grandmother but decided to make it her middle name

-Her spirit animal is a swan.

~

OC Profile Credit- AliceCantBeStopped ; Divider- y-vna

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Meth Cleaning Services in Wellington: Restoring Health and Safety

Methamphetamine, commonly known as meth, is a dangerous and highly addictive drug. Unfortunately, its production and use can lead to contamination of homes and properties. In Wellington, New Zealand, as in many other places around the world, the issue of meth contamination is a growing concern. In this article, we will discuss the importance of service meth cleaning Wellington and how they play a crucial role in restoring health and safety.

The Meth Contamination Problem in Wellington

Wellington, with its vibrant culture and stunning landscapes, is a wonderful place to live. However, like many cities, it is not immune to the challenges posed by methamphetamine production and use. Properties where meth has been manufactured or used can become contaminated with toxic residues. These residues pose serious health risks to anyone who comes into contact with them.

Meth contamination is often invisible to the naked eye, making it difficult for property owners to detect. Yet, the consequences of exposure to meth residues can be severe. Health problems such as respiratory issues, skin irritations, headaches, and long-term neurological damage can result from prolonged exposure. It is crucial to address meth contamination promptly and effectively to protect the well-being of those who live or work in affected spaces.

The Role of Meth Cleaning Services

Service of Meth cleaning Wellington are dedicated teams of professionals who specialize in the decontamination and remediation of properties affected by methamphetamine use or production. These experts are trained to follow strict protocols and safety measures to ensure the complete removal of meth residues from contaminated areas.

Here are some key roles that meth cleaning services play:

Ensuring Health and Safety: The primary goal of meth cleaning services is to protect the health and safety of occupants. By eliminating meth residues, they help create a safe and habitable environment, free from the risks associated with exposure to toxic chemicals.

Legal Compliance: In Wellington and throughout New Zealand, there are regulations in place that require property owners to remediate meth-contaminated spaces. Failure to comply with these regulations can result in legal consequences and fines. Meth cleaning services help property owners meet these legal requirements.

Property Value Preservation: A property with a history of meth contamination can suffer from decreased value and marketability. Investing in professional meth cleaning can help maintain or even increase property value, making it more attractive to buyers or tenants.

Thorough Cleanup: Meth cleaning services use specialized equipment and techniques to ensure a thorough cleanup. This includes cleaning walls, ceilings, floors, ventilation systems, and any other areas where meth residues may be present.

Certification: After the decontamination process is complete, meth cleaning services provide certification to confirm that the property meets safety standards and is fit for occupancy. This certification can be essential for property transactions and rental agreements.

Choosing the Right Meth Cleaning Service in Wellington

When selecting a meth cleaning service in Wellington, it's essential to choose a reputable and certified company. Look for professionals who have experience in meth decontamination and follow industry best practices. Additionally, ensure that the company provides proper documentation and certification upon completion of the cleanup process.

In conclusion, meth contamination is a significant concern in Wellington, as it is in many other places worldwide. Service of Meth cleaning Wellington play a crucial role in addressing this issue by restoring health and safety to affected properties. If you suspect meth contamination in your property, don't hesitate to seek professional help. By doing so, you can protect the well-being of occupants, comply with legal requirements, and preserve the value of your property.

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The process of professional mold remediation

Signs of mold in a bathroom

Mold can grow in any damp or moist environment, and bathrooms are prime spots for it to thrive. If you see any of the following signs, it's a good indication that you may have mold in your bathroom:

Black, green, or white spots on the walls, ceiling, or floor

A musty or moldy smell

Peeling paint or wallpaper

Soft, wet spots on the walls or ceiling

Wood that is discolored or has a spongy texture

If you see any of these signs, it's important to have a professional come in to assess the situation and determine if mold is present.

Dangers of mold in a bathroom

Mold can be a serious health hazard, especially for people with allergies or respiratory problems. It can also cause skin irritation and other health problems. If you have mold in your bathroom, it's important to have it removed as soon as possible.

Mold can release spores into the air, which can be inhaled. These spores can cause a variety of health problems, including:

Respiratory problems, such as asthma and bronchitis

Allergic reactions, such as sneezing, coughing, and watery eyes

Skin irritation

Headaches

Fatigue

If you are experiencing any of these symptoms, it's important to see a doctor to rule out mold exposure.

Process of professional mold remediation

Professional mold remediation is a complex process that should only be done by qualified professionals. The first step is to assess the extent of the mold problem. The professional will then remove the mold and any contaminated materials. They will also clean and disinfect the area to prevent the mold from growing back.

The cost of professional mold remediation will vary depending on the extent of the problem. However, it is important to remember that the cost of mold remediation is often much less than the cost of medical bills if you or your family members are exposed to mold.

Tips on how to prevent mold growth in bathrooms

The best way to prevent mold growth in your bathroom is to keep it clean and dry. Here are a few tips:

Make sure to ventilate your bathroom well by opening the window or using a fan.

Wipe down all surfaces after use, especially shower walls and floors.

Keep the shower curtain closed when not in use.

Clean and disinfect your bathroom regularly.

If you have a leak, fix it immediately.

If you have a water damage problem, call a professional to have it repaired.

Conclusion

Mold can be a serious health hazard, so it's important to take action if you suspect it in your bathroom. If you see any of the signs of mold, have a professional come in to assess the situation and remove the mold. You can also take steps to prevent mold growth in your bathroom by keeping it clean and dry.

FDP Mold Remediation of Newark is a professional mold remediation company that has been serving the Newark, NJ area for over 15 years. We are licensed and insured, and our team of certified mold remediation professionals is committed to providing our customers with the highest quality service.

We understand that mold can be a serious health hazard, and we take the remediation process very seriously. We use state-of-the-art equipment and techniques to remove mold safely and effectively. We also take steps to prevent mold from growing back in the future.

If you have mold in your home or business, don't hesitate to call FDP Mold Remediation of Newark. We will provide you with a free consultation and estimate. We also offer financing options to make our services more affordable.

Call us today at 908-895-4841 to learn more about our mold remediation services.