#i'm not here to take away anyone's right to do anything. i believe in bodily autonomy.

[feferipeixes]

vent

[edenmemes]

baldur's gate 3 starters (part 1)

part 1 / ? .

❝ a less trusting person might think this all sounds very suspicious. ❞ ❝ you say all the right words, but i’m not sure you mean the right things. ❞ ❝ i know somewhere quiet. somewhere intimate. somewhere we can…indulge in each other. ❞ ❝ eugh, don’t be nice to me. it makes me want to be nice back. ❞ ❝ we needn’t be enemies. there’s plenty of those to go around already. ❞ ❝ there’s a steeliness to you, an unwavering tenacity in the face of, to be frank, quite dire odds. ❞ ❝ even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will. ❞ ❝ i appreciate anyone that opens a conversation with threats of bodily harm. ❞ ❝ oh, you know me - ever the optimist. i’m trying to focus on the positives. ❞ ❝ i’m not easily impressed by people, but you’re stronger than i gave you credit for. ❞ ❝ there’s an air about you. something alien. ❞ ❝ loosen the grip on your pride for one blasted moment, won’t you? ❞ ❝ it’s been a long time since someone stuck their neck out for me like that. ❞ ❝ there’s something odd about this village. people skulk around like they’ve something to hide. ❞ ❝ you know, if you want to spend time with me, you only have to say so. ❞ ❝ i want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. what you see. ❞ ❝ what’s better than a devil you don’t know? a devil you do. ❞ ❝ you must know that you’re…that you’re very special to me. ❞ ❝ the gods are nothing if not vindictive in their vengeance. ❞ ❝ stay with me a while, will you? day will come all too soon. ❞ ❝ here’s my little treat with their cheeks all flushed. ❞ ❝ i am terrified. i will not claim otherwise. ❞ ❝ my apologies. i’m not quite myself yet. i had the strangest dream last night. ❞ ❝ we didn’t die today. tomorrow, perhaps. but not today. ❞ ❝ leader’s need to make tough decisions. we do what we must. ❞ ❝ i think that unknowable powers come with unknowable consequences. ❞ ❝ i’ve had a lifetime’s fill of watching little men puff themselves up with grand titles. ❞ ❝ in these times, all we can trust are the blades in our hands. ❞ ❝ it’s not easy to turn away from one you once loved. ❞ ❝ much has been promised to you, hasn’t it? but what has been taken from you? ❞ ❝ damn it all. i can do nothing right - not a damn thing. ❞ ❝ every instinct i have tells me that nothing’s changed. that i’m still just a means to an end. ❞ ❝ do not speak of a story you only know the half of. ❞ ❝ i dreamt every night that you’d come back to me. that somehow it was all a nightmare dawn would undo. ❞ ❝ when the time comes to strike, you must take it. for there may be only one chance. ❞ ❝ your eyes. there is pain, endless and deep. but also devotion - blazing like the sun. ❞ ❝ you’re adorable even when you’re teasing me. ❞ ❝ i don’t need your help, and i don’t need your pity. ❞ ❝ i’m more than what i was. and i’m not afraid of anything any more. ❞ ❝ i said exactly what i meant: i love you. you should never, never doubt that. ❞ ❝ this is all like some sort of terrible dream. but it’s real, isn’t it? ❞ ❝ there is no redemption. can’t you see? it is too late. ❞ ❝ i don’t know that it was brave. i just know that it was right. ❞ ❝ you took those bastards down like it was nothing. it…was amazing. ❞ ❝ they underestimated me. so they paid the price. ❞ ❝ we fight, we die, and we just hope that when our time comes, there is someone else to take our place. ❞ ❝ unfortunately for me, you’re my friend. rescuing you from mortal peril is my right. ❞ ❝ what did you think i was going to say? 'oh, come here, i'll kiss you better'? ❞ ❝ flowers are so overrated. they're bright, gaudy, and almost never make good poisons. ❞ ❝ i’ve been lied to, my whole life. and i was gullible enough to just believe it. ❞ ❝ you know, i never pictured myself as a hero. never thought i'd be the one they toast for saving so many lives. and now that i'm here…i hate it. ❞ ❝ you know, i feel a connection between us. like we're two souls walking the same path. ❞ ❝ the forgiving sort, are you? you should be careful. plenty would take advantage of that. ❞

❝ it’s as if god made you just to ruin me. ❞ ❝ perish the thought. every word i said was nothing less than true. ❞ ❝ you have a manner of irresistible desperation about you. i like it. ❞ ❝ i got my eye on you. you got the look of a troublemaker. ❞ ❝ i’m starting to think you’re my guardian angel. ❞ ❝ it seems you know me better than i know myself. ❞ ❝ you…you have no idea what you’ve done. ❞ ❝ they say madness and genius are separated by but a hair’s breadth. perhaps the same is true of madness and stupidity. ❞ ❝ oh, it’s you. don’t you get tired of telling people how to live their lives? ❞ ❝ good morning! thank you for not killing me the other night. ❞ ❝ when the time comes to strike, you must take it. for there may be only one chance. ❞ ❝ it is good to savour the moment of victory - but pace bg3 syourself. our fight is just beginning. ❞ ❝ i was too hasty to judge you. i thought you were witless, gutless, unimpressivably bland… ❞ ❝ yours is the first happy face i’ve seen in a good while. ❞ ❝ when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair – that’s when you’ll come knocking on my door. ❞ ❝ thank you, my friend. maybe we’ll meet again, in another life. ❞ ❝ you’ll regret sticking your nose in my business. ❞

[the-grey-hunt]

last year i talked somewhat about jonathan harker in the role of the gothic heroine, which seemed to go over well! this year i've decided to challenge myself to delve a little deeper and keep my literary analysis skills sharp (trying to keep away from anything revealed later than today's entry, for the new readers)

for context in the literary background i'm examining here, the female gothic (a term coined I believe in the 70s) is a lens of analysis for gothic literature which examines the role of women as expression of contemporary anxieties around women and their roles in society, particularly as mothers and wives. like many kinds of horror, political and social anxieties are deployed as supernatural forces with which to terrify the "ordinary" citizens.

jonathan, our ordinary man, is certainly faced with horrors—but in what way? sent by an older man, Peter Hawkins, jonathan enters a foreign landscape where he enters into the power of another older man, at a particularly vulnerable time where a loved one (Mina) is waiting at home but jonathan does not appear to be married. the horrors that jonathan faces are the same trials set up against gothic heroines: threatening older men with power over you, poised at a huge point of transition in your life, etc, etc.

the main argument against jonathan as a heroine is, I think, his job. His transition point right now isn't an impending marriage or that he needs one, but that he's just established himself as a solicitor and is meeting with Dracula for business purposes. however, I think how these are deployed as tools in the story, such as Hawkins almost transferring guardianship of his young employee/ward to Dracula (temporarily), still very much mirror the ways in which high-class social norms are deployed against gothic women. even the work jonathan does in the castle (talking to dracula about real estate) isn't in service of bolstering his manly prowess, but serves as a tool for dracula to distract him, and keep him from realizing that he is trapped and serving dracula's own will.

rather than being tried in a manly fashion by his strength or his wits being challenged, jonathan's gothic experience is of his environment and even his body being manipulated by the man meant to be a helping hand in a foreign land. when I say body people might think it's a little early for that, but it's happening—dracula keeps jonathan up late so he sleeps in, forcing him to acclimate to dracula's own nocturnal existence. when he gets a glimpse of blood, he attempts to take it from jonathan. even today, a few hundred years after dracula's social anxieties about women's bodies being trespassed upon by men other than the ones entitled to them, women may see echoes of their own anxieties about bodily autonomy.

Dracula also isolates jonathan socially. He makes jonathan mistrust his own ability to percieve reality (gaslighting, anyone, a story about a woman being manipulated by her husband?) by pretending that servants are in charge of the cooking and so on, when really it's just dracula keeping up a masquerade.

this comes to a head in the mirror scene, where jonathan's shaving mirror—an item he uses to attend to his appearance—ends up being a helpful tool which exposes the supernatural reality of what jonathan's up against. however, because dracula is still the one in power, he immediately gets rid of it, calling it "vanity". I recall the quote by John Berger:

You painted a naked woman because you enjoyed looking at her, put a mirror in her hand and you called the painting Vanity, thus morally condemning the woman whose nakedness you had depicted for you own pleasure.

the ways in which jonathan is treated by dracula, and the ways in which he attempts to bolster himself against the threat (spying to see what dracula's really doing, seeing the lack of reflection by chance) mirror the highly gendered dynamics of the Victorian era which this book was written in the tail end of. perhaps purposefully subverting jonathan's gender as a further expression of the horror of dracula, stoker's work takes jonathan as a man secure in his position at home in england to being a manipulated, isolated, and precariously positioned figure subject to the whims of an abusive man while friendless in a foreign country

(and the essay on how race, ethnicity, and foreign versus home plays into this is a whole other post! racism effects gender too! it's not a mistake that jonathan is securely male at home but his gender is subverted abroad!)

[residentmiddlechild]

Hello, I know you dont know me and as a total stranger on Tumblr, I probably won't be the one to change your mind, but I just wanted to talk about your stance as pro life as I just saw your post about it.

In that post, you touch on the issue of eugenics and how so many people trying defend abortion do so from an ableist and classist point of view. I do not agree with those people! I am disabled myself and was not born into a loving family, and I don't believe anyone should be allowed to dictate whether I deserve to live based on that alone.

I am completely anti eugenics, and the people who claim to be pro choice while using talking points straight out of the 1930s do not speak for me. However, I am pro choice. You see, me being pro choice simply means that I believe in bodily autonomy. To carry a pregnancy to term is hard on the body and can be absolutely detrimental to someones heath, both mental and physical.

Your bio says that you are christian, and as I understand it many christian faiths believe that life begins at the moment of conception, meaning that an unborn fetus would have a soul. I'm not here to disagree on that, I'm not religious myself but I consider myself agnostic and am open to the possibility of God.I have full respect for your faith, and if you do not ever want an abortion that is your prerogative.

However, in the name of both religious freedom for others(like Jewish people who believe life begins at first breath) and bodily autonomy I cannot condone the use of laws banning the practice of abortion. Pregnancy is dangerous and even deadly and no one should ever be forced to go through it against their will. For the government to force people to go through 9-10 months of pregnancy is to take away people's and especially women's rights to their own bodies.

I will now share something personal. I am a victim of sexual assault. The idea of growing my abusers child inside of me is a thought that haunts me. Sexual abuse is the ultimate violation, it makes you feel helpless and like your body is not your own. To be hurt that way is to be stripped of bodily autonomy. To suffer that violation only to be met with another in the form of being forced to use your body as a vessel to grow a human being against your will is a fate I would not wish on my worst enemy. A forced pregnancy would to me feel like a second rape, my body being used against my will. Not everyone feels that way, and had I gotten pregnant from my sexual assault I can't say for sure I wouldn't keep it, but the thought of never even having a choice in the matter is just horrible. I can't describe the feeling as anything other than total helplessness and dread.

I want to clarify, I don't believe that children botn of rape do not deserve to live, I'm simply describing my own personal feelings around a hypothetical child. This is my experience with this fear, it will not reflect everyone's.

At the end of the day, the argument to me is never about whether a fetus counts as a life or not. To me, the question is always why should anyone have to be forced to sacrifice their own life to save anothers? Why do we consider it okay to force a woman through the physical and psychological suffering of an unwanted pregnancy and the pain or even potential death of childbirth to save a life? Why does their life matter more than hers? Why does the potential for life outweigh the life we already know is there?

If you choose to respond, I only ask you to be civil and I will keep an open mind. If you choose not to, I only wish you would try to empathize with those women who decide to abort and show them the same compassion you do their unborn children.

Good day.

First off, thank you for the ask, and thank you for being so kind and civil! Even if we can’t change each other’s minds, it’s good to have these types of conversations. Secondly, I am glad to hear that you don’t agree with the eugenics and classist based arguments that are often thrown around these days. Thirdly, while my faith is a big part of the reason that I am pro-life, science also plays a big role in that and I would hope that even if I wasn’t a Christian that I would still be pro-life. Pro-life arguments can be made without bringing religion into it, so it’s not really an issue of religious freedom. 

Unfortunately, I am going to disagree with you about what the most important thing about this whole conversation is. You say that the question is about bodily autonomy, and not about the personhood of the preborn. I, and many others, disagree. The question of if the preborn are persons is detrimental to all arguments. Your argument of bodily autonomy above all else becomes more complicated if the preborn are persons with the same rights as anyone else. Now, I could recount all the reasons that a preborn baby is a life that deserves basic human rights, but you probably have heard them all before. I don’t want to just give up this conversation, but if we cannot agree on what the fundamental question of abortion is, our conversations are not going to align in any productive way. If you have not heard the reasons that a preborn baby is also a person who deserves human rights, please let me know and I can send you some links or outline those reasons myself. 

I do want to say that bodily autonomy is very important though. Any kind of sexual assault or rape should absolutely be condemned and punished and my heart goes out to you that you had to go through that yourself. That being said, the child should not be punished for the crimes of the father. The child is also an innocent victim in this circumstance. That being said, this again stems directly from the conclusion that preborn children are in fact living persons who deserve rights. The right to live trumps the right to bodily autonomy. While I agree with you that pregnancy is a physically and emotionally taxing process, that does not give the mother the right to murder her child. (Before I continue I do want to say that abortions due to rape are a very low percentage, but that doesn’t make this less important of a conversation). The mother has a basic duty of care for her child because of the parent-child relationship. We expect mothers to care for their children no matter what, and since I believe that the preborn are persons with rights, I would expect a mother to give basic care to her preborn baby by giving birth to it. If the mother then gives up that child for adoption, that is a fine option. I have no problem with that, but the child should at the very least be given the chance to live in the world. 

You also bring up a lot of other arguments in your last section such as what to do when the pregnancy is a risk to the woman, possibly even a fatal risk. In that case, I would say, try to save both the mother and child. It’s really all about the intent. When an abortion is performed, the intent is always for the child to die. If, for example, a surgery was performed due to an ectopic pregnancy, the goal is to try and save the mother, but also to save the child, whether it is successful or not. If a baby dies in a surgery that is attempting to save it, that is a tragedy, if a baby dies because of an abortion, that’s murder because the death of the baby was always the goal. 

You also bring up the psychological toll that pregnancy has on women. In this case, I would give this example. Let’s say you have an aging family member who is sick who you have to take care of. They likely take an emotional and psychological toll on you. That does not mean you get to murder your family member. Parenthood also takes an emotional toll, but we don’t let parents murder their children.

You ask near the end “Why does their life matter more than hers? Why does the potential for life outweigh the life we already know is there?” Again this comes down to the question of are the preborn persons who deserve rights. As I believe they are, I say that both lives matter. Most pregnancies are the result of consensual sex. People know going into sex that there is the possibility of a child. They should not take this lightly. Once a baby is conceived, that cannot be undone. A new person has been created who has the same right to life as you. I have already gone over life threatening situations and emotionally taxing pregnancies and murder is never the answer. There are so many resources for women out there and abortion is nothing but an act of violence on someone without a voice to defend themselves. 

The argument you have given me also reminds me of the popular “violinist argument” which focuses purely on bodily autonomy and not on personhood. I am going to link a few posts on that because others have already refuted that argument better than I can. I am also going to link a few other posts I came across that might be helpful to you.

I have a lot of empathy for women who choose to abort because so many of them are uninformed of what they're doing and think that the violent act of abortion will solve their problems. But to those who are informed and yet think that what they're doing is right, I can never agree with them. Abortion is murder, always, and is never justified.

Thank you again for your kindness and civility. I hope I could answer some of your questions even if you don’t agree with me. We do disagree on the fundamental question, so it was a bit hard to answer you, but let me know if you want to talk more.

[paradoxcase]

Continuing the convo here. OK confession time. Project 2025 is very scary and the anti-choice movement is very scary. I don't like feeling out of step with my friends, but some of them are opposed to voting; one person described fear of Trump as "cynical hand-wringing", and other said "there's always going to be a scary guy." But I just don't see the point in, for one, protesting a war by allowing the election of a guy who's going to make the war worse. And secondly, I have always been scared shitless of pregnancy, and even as a kid I thought it was an insult to us kids to treat fetuses like real babies, and so the right's attacks on abortion are just the most cruel terrifying inhumane thing imaginable to me. And I heard that Project 2025 wants to restrict abortion everywhere, not just in the USA. Deep in my gut, all the left-wing cries that I'd be getting blood on my hands by voting mean jack shit in the face of the overwhelming existential dysphoric terror at the thought of forced birth. More than anyone else, I want someone to understand this.

And I do honestly believe the path to fighting global warming involves rapid and extreme action against monopoly capitalism. But I also want the short term benefit of not having people in power that spit at my gender and see my body as nothing but baby food. And it is incredibly shitty that the dems are threatening us to vote for them by saying "they'll take away your rights" when they could have done more in the first place to codify those rights. But why blame me for it? Leftblr is making me feel like a hideous class traitor for something that I am being effectively forced into!

Oh also, people are really mad about a bad post someone made where they used hitler apology to explain why we should vote blue. So now I worry that I'll be seen even more as a monster for voting. That what if I AM a monster who doesn't care enough about foreigners being killed. But like, the alternative is imagining SA victims being bodyhorrorred and I didn't do the one small thing that could try to protect them.

I mean, I think it's a reasonable point that you shouldn't do things or make decisions purely based on a knee-jerk fear reaction, and I feel like our society has done a lot to try to make us viscerally afraid of pregnancy, kind of regardless of the bodily autonomy issues around restriction of birth control and abortion, or at least I think it does when you grow up in an abstinence-only education state, that kind of "education" is very much focused on controlling you through fear. But just because society tries to control you through fear and the alt-right is very much driven by fear and being controlled and motivated by fear by politicians and pundits doesn't mean that it's not sensible to be afraid of anything, or that there aren't logical reasons to fear something, or even that pregnancy isn't something you should fear. If you're afraid of something, you can look up the the actual facts about it, and decide based on the facts whether it makes sense to fear it, and then if you still do, your reasons for fearing it are more based on actual reality and not just on a knee-jerk feeling you have about it, and knowing the facts about it will also help you be more effective at avoiding it. And, even if you are afraid, when trying to convince other people about political issues, it's much better to be able to say, these are the facts of this issue, and this is why this outcome will be bad, not just for me, but also for you and lots of other people, rather than just saying, I'm afraid for myself, even if your fear is a stronger motivator for you personally. No matter how sensible your fear is, not everyone is going to be able to empathize with it, because fear is fundamentally not based on actual facts. The only way to make someone else afraid of the same things you are afraid of is to use the manipulative fear tactics they tried to use to make us afraid of sex before marriage, and that's not ethical. I know it feels like your fear is the strongest and best argument and the most important reason to oppose Trump, but a lot of other people are not going to feel that way, and that doesn't make them like, inhuman or lacking empathy or anything, it's just because fear is kind of illogical, both in that people will fear things that aren't dangerous/scary and also in that they won't fear things that are dangerous.

But honestly, I would personally just stop listening to those types of people and stop following them. They are not really "leftblr". There is not always a "scary guy" who is the president trying to take away reproductive rights, if Harris is elected, there won't be. I don't know what the Hitler post was about, but there will always be people making dumb arguments for every side of any issue, and that doesn't mean that every political position is dumb.

[lindajenni]

feb 12

making my way to You "so that they should seek the Lord, in the hope that they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us." acts 17:27 these are some words of a song were written to describe a search for true love.  it was meant to be in the natural, but we all need to find our way home to the supernatural One. i ran full speed ahead without stopping to rest not knowing where i was headed to now that i'm here, it's perfectly clear i was making my way to You i tried to rush finding true love it didn't pan out like thought it would it took me some time but i got here as fast as i could can't believe how long it took but i got here as fast as i could yeah i got here as fast as i could are you running as fast as you can to find your true love?  and if you've found Him, are you doing all you can to keep that "first love" spirit burning in your breast?  making our way to Jesus is not just a one time experience in this life.  it is a continual making our way to Him until we take our last breath in this life.  it is only that continuance and abiding that will result in a last breath here and a immediate next breath in His presence (if breath is even needed in the afterlife). i can still remember my first love.  how i yearned to be in his presence - and how i prepared to go into that presence.  my appearance had to be just right.  and oh, how i sought to please him.  that's why i can't conceive of how anyone could claim to love Jesus and still be comfortable in their sin, knowing He is not pleased.  "therefore we make it our aim, whether present or absent, to be well pleasing to Him." 2 cor 5:9  that "first love" isn't just about physical nearness.  it's togetherness that transcends a bodily presence.  i have heard so many stories of how someone miles away from a loved one, knew in their spirit that something was wrong.  i believe that. yes, i'm making my way to You Lord.  there are many road blocks and detours that try to hinder my way, but i have the compass of the Holy Spirit and my eyes are fixed on You.  i just recently revisited "the pilgrims progress," so i speak of our journey.  i would just give a word of warning to my fellow travelers.  watch your thoughts, they become words; watch your words, they become actions; watch your actions, they become habits; watch your habits, they become character; watch your character, for it becomes your destiny. if we are careful to follow our compass, the Holy Spirit will aid you in changing into a new person by first changing the way you think.  let’s start there.  what do you think about?  what consumes your waking moments?  when your mind rests and disengages from the immediate task at hand, where does it go?  that is the place where Jesus wants to be most at home, in the forefront of your mind.  to make Jesus center means that your thoughts run to Jesus and your desire is to please Him more than anything.  has anyone ever read "practicing the presence of God?"  we need to practice it until we perfect it. remember the Lord's warning.  "enter by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it.  because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it." matt 7:13-14  the narrow way isn't the easy way, but it's the only way that leads to our blessed hope.  we can't work for salvation, but if there is no fruit in your life, remember the Lord's warning.  "and even now the ax is laid to the root of the trees.  therefore every tree which does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire." matt 3:10 help us Lord to abide in the vine; abide in You and stay in the narrow way.  we're making our way to You... all the way to You!

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Nope, I was wrong. Second Roe V. Wade post:

When I say I'm pro-choice, I mean "You get decide what happens to your body" and I ALSO mean "more people should have abortions."

This is not a eugenics standpoint. This is a standpoint based on where I grew up and the culture surrounding the ideas of sex and pregnancy.

Because here's how it works where I'm from: If you are the pregnant person, you are a fucking whore for ever fucking out of wedlock, and you must be punished for doing that, and that punishment is the potential human you're carrying.

Here's how it works where I'm from: If you're the inseminator of the pregnant person, you can literally just walk away and never have to take any responsibility, and maybe people will talk some shit behind your back, but you won't be slut-shamed or shunned. And the moment you decide to show up and parent any one of your kids, people will make excuses for you that you were "too immature" to be a parent before, so now there's a chance you'll show up for that one kid you never had to take responsibility for because you came in someone else, and they didn't come in you.

Here's how it works where I grew up: How dare you be poor. How dare you be poor and have children. How dare you be poor and have another child even though if you even briefly hesitate in your excitement to bring another child into a situation where you know you're struggling, you're a fucking monster who shouldn't have had so many goddamn children if you couldn't take care of them.

Here's how it works where I grew up: We can't give kids to queers who want them. It's better to put children into the utterly provable fucked up system of foster care than to let queers adopt unwanted children. Sure, no straights want them, but that doesn't mean queers happy to love children should ever get to have them. That'd be against god's plan of punishing us all for original sin.

Here's how it works where I grew up: No one WANTS those damn foster kids, but it's CHRISTIAN CHARITY to make room in your home for those imperfect children, and if they ever do anything that can be easily understood by respecting the fact they're traumatized, it will be ignored because how DARE YOU violate THE RULES OF THIS HOUSE.

Here's how it works where I'm from: My mother told me over and over and over again that she was pro-choice. But also, if I'm old enough to get pregnant, I'm old enough to be a parent. She first started telling me this before I had my first period.

Here's how it works where I'm from: I never fucked anyone in high school. I never dated. The rumors about me--the rumors built to shame me and make me hate myself--were about how I must be a lesbian (because I never dated anyone) but also how I'd had an abortion because I was loudly pro-choice.

When I say more people need abortions, I mean it as a NEED. So many fucking people are forced into having children they don't want for any number of reasons. Some of those reasons are as easy as "The condom broke." Some are as complicated as "I'm forced into believing I have to force myself into being a parent because I've been raised on the message that I'm a worse person for having an abortion than I am someone who is negligent or hateful of my own child because I never wanted a child."

Anti-abortion rhetoric is all about how you must be a monster to ever not want a child. How all life is sacred, even if the pregnancy is a result of a violence and abuse. Fuck literally all of that. You know who needs an abortion? Every single fucking person who wants one.

You know who deserves an abortion? Every single fucking person who wants one.

It's about basic medical rights and bodily autonomy. First, last, and in between. It's about basic privacy rights. First, last, and in between.

[vexy-hexy]

Look, I love the franchise and really enjoyed the movie, but this is something we shouldn't forget

Scott may have created a cool series, but he's still a right-wing dick and he deserves the criticism

I used to look up to Scott as an artist, as someone who failed time and time again until he finally succeeded in something he was passionate about and loved to do

I was so inspired by his story...

... and then everything came out. He supported these bigoted people who were working to strip rights away from people for not being cis, straight, white men

Honestly, it's kind of maddening that people forgot about this, including myself

This man, Scott Cawthon, deserves to be criticized for donating to take what should be basic human rights away from marginalized groups

That said, I don't think the death threats he got were right. Prove that you're better than these hateful people by being smart instead of violent

At this point, I don't think we'll change the minds of people like Scott. They're too set in their hateful ideas

BUT we can help lead others down the correct path before they get too far, but only if we fight with knowledge and facts instead of threats that make us all look just as bad as the people we criticize

You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar

Edit: After thinking about it for a bit, I wanted to clarify that just because I'm against death threats and the like, doesn't mean I'm against calling someone names if I think they're an idiot

Like, you can still be mean to people who are trying to strip away basic human rights without sending death threats or telling them to KYS

I, myself, have called people like Trump, Rowling, and Cawthon fucking idiots and assholes. I've called them monsters before for hurting so many people and still working towards hurting more

In fact, I believe we SHOULDN'T be nice to these people. That's how we got here in the first place, by trying to be kind to those who don’t deserve it

But threats of bodily harm and death take it way too far and also hurt the people you are trying to help more than it hurts the person you're threatening

I hope this makes sense, I have no idea how to really explain this if I'm being honest

No one has talked to me about this or anything, I just thought about it and became genuinely worried someone may take this as "be quiet and compliant," which is the last thing I want

You have the right to speak up

You have the right to be hurt, mad, disappointed, and express that

TL;DR: Death threats are bad and don't help anyone, but you don't have to be nice to those trying to harm and silence you

😐

[aliypop]

Gone But Not Forgotten

Wordcount:  1,569

Rating : Angst / Fluff

A/N : I’m back after a lot of stress I’ve managed to come back to do fic’s with my ghostbusters oc and afterlife . I wrote it on Grammerly  so excuse the errors

Tag: @herosneednotapply @bohohoh-itsmagic 

"I loved him more than anything in this world, and he's dead because of-" Alexandra stopped in her tracks, eyes focusing between the mess of the broke down Victorian home and the unfamiliar face of a woman older than her daughter. Short blonde hair furiously moving around with the movement of its bodily owner. Boxes scattered everywhere as well as books maps and. "I can't believe he kept that damn toaster..." Alexandra muttered under her breath. As the floorboards creaked, there stood a PKE meter pointed at her neck.  

"Who are you, and how did you get in our home?"

"I should be asking you the same thing." Alexandra chuckled, "Well, the who are you part that is..." she began to walk past the younger woman, eyes peering through her glasses, taking in every detail that was simply Egon. 

"Well, are you going to tell me who you are before I...I... blast you with this dumb thing."

"Names Alexandra Morgan. or Doctor Alexandra Spengler." she then chuckled, "And that's a PKE meter. The only damage it could do is alert you of a specter..." her boots clicking against the rotting floorboards, "Now your turn..." tipping her hat to look back at the young woman,

 "I'm Callie... "

"Just Callie?" she asked, "No last name?"

"No, just Callie..." the other woman stared, her hands starting to tremble. 

"Out of all my years of Teaching, I've never met anyone who didn't have a last name..."

"I found something of Grandpa Spengler's. Can I keep it." both Callie and Alexandra looked towards the steps as there stood a girl who was the spitting image of the man she had always adored, "Of course, Phoebe, just uh don't get hurt..." Callie sighed, the tone of a concerned mother. Alexandra knew that all too well, but what she wanted to know was how the hell was there a grandpa Spengler she didn't know about:

Alexandra knew about the one drunken night that Egon and her got into: He had disappeared for a while left her alone, and that's when it hit her.

"Oh..."  

Oh, was right, here she was moments away before Zuul would arrive, at her dead husband's home amongst her stepdaughter and step-grandchild?, This was indeed weirder than Egon and slime. "Is something wrong?" Callie asked, noticing the expression on the older woman's face. "I'm sorry he wasn't in your life... hell, he wasn't in mine or Adisa's much after 2004, Egon, ran down here, but luckily she was in college by that time, and I was starting to grey..." she sat in the dusty rocking chair, she could feel the air shift as if he made his presence known, 

"I'm sorry, what?" Callie asked, 

"It wasn't that Egon didn't care ... he just had this theory in his mind and-" 

"No, I know about that... I mean you and my uh?" Callie stood like a deer in headlights. "Father, yes, of course... Egon, we met in the winter of 85? or was it 84," Alexandra " 84, the year I lost everything, well not everything..." she smiled, watching at how attentive Callie was she hadn't even noticed Phoebe who was by the steps listening,

 "Do you know a man named Ray Stanz..." she asked, her round glasses crooked on her face, nose covered in the oh-so-familiar gunk of Proton pack oil and rust. "Do I, Ray, and I was practically best friends as Kids. He's the one who told me your grandpa died..." Phoebe only gave her a quick nod turning on her heels before the gears in her mind began to spin. 

"So you're a ghostbuster, did, you know Grandpa Spengler, which means you could help with..." 

"I was his wife-" 

"Alright, it's been a great time talking to you, and I think you should go-" 

"Call it fate, call it luck, call it Karma, but I believe everything happens for a reason," Alexandra gave a wink to Phoebe. 

 Alexandra took her exit as the oh-so-familiar sound of the Ecto - 1 siren rang from the dirt driveway. "I assume that's another one of my grandchildren..." she chuckled, her brown skin reflecting in the eerie moonlight. Leaving Callie to steam as if she were a boiling tea kettle, "I don't believe in fate!" she shouted as the woman walked off the dirt path and into her parked 89 Mustang.  Just two hours out of the small town was a motel surrounded by dirt and a few gas stations, that as Ray put it, happened to have Twinkies.

  Sitting in the dimly lit room of Peters sat the Ghostbusters, and a pacing Alexandra understood by aggravated shrieks. "How bad was it..."  Winston asked as Alexandra shot him a glare worse than Proton stream to the hand. 

"Alrighty, then that's all I need to know... Ray, do you wanna give it a try?" 

Ray looked up from his book as he turned to face the storm that was Alexandra. He knew the hurt in her eyes, the same look he saw when he told her that Egon was dead. "It can't be that bad, Alex... Remember when you caught Egon with the slime." 

"THAT IS NOT THE SAME THING, RAYMOND!" Alexandra growled, her hand balled into a fist. Peter caught it as he sat her down. "You know, as the Pschologyist and  handsome one of the group, I think I can handle this little lady." 

"Venkman, I may be old, but that does not mean I can't throw you." 

"You know, if you and I worked out in college, I'd find that attractive." 

"Peter... shut up." 

A hue of purple flashed by her eyes as every word Peter said went out the other ear. "Do you smell something..." she asked, stopping Peter in his track all while Winston and Ray were already suited up,

 "Where's it coming from." 

"The dirt farm...They're in trouble..." 

"Who? " Both Peter and Winston asked, following the leads of Ray and Alexandra. 

 Trevor, Lucky, and Podcast had all tried their best with Phoebe in the lead proton pack on her back and a spirit guiding her movement until she heard a voice shout, "Why don't you pick on someone your own size!" Alexandra, Peter, Ray, and Winston stood in front of the Ecto-1  both Phoebe and Zuul turned to face the team. 

"Are you a God..." 

Eyes on Ray as he nearly broke a sweat for an answer the team chanting him on.  "Come on, Ray, please..."  Ray stood in complete thought,  frozen at the beauty of Zuul. "Ray!!" Winston shouted. 

"YES!" Ray shouted, a bit irritated and possibly from his hearing slowly leaving him. Before they could even blast,  The sounds of old bones cracking could be heard amongst them as they struggled to stand. "God... how did we manage this in our 30's..." Alexandra mumbled her hand on her Neutrona wand, hearing a bit of a giggle from the younger counterparts surrounding them. 

"Alright, let's blast this one!"  Peter smirked. The harmonized buzzing of Protons had begun, and in a long but well-deserved, flash Zuul had almost been beatable. Standing next to them was Phoebe, who was accompanied by   "Egon..." Winston glanced at him, his ghastly hair was white, and he had grown a very handsome beard before his death. But it had only made Alexandra wish they had the last goodbyes to each other. 

"I knew you'd come back," Peter said, watching as they led Zuul into the trap. 

"We missed you, buddy." Ray smiled,  watching as Podcast held the trap in his hands.  

"Hey, about earlier..."  Callie mumbled, looking at Alexandra a bit sheepishly. "Water under the bridge." she winked, feeling a cold tap on her shoulder as Callie nudged her to turn around. "I better check on Mr. Grooberson. " Callie began to scratch the back of her neck. Standing before Alexandra was Egon, a look of shame in his eyes that wished he had told her everything sooner. "I know..." she reached to touch his face as he leaned into her embrace, something he didn't do much. "They're a lovely bunch," she mentioned standing next to him. Sighs escaped her lips as Egon pulled her close into a side hug. Flashing lights came down the street as another fleet of Ghostbusters out of their Ecto, a young woman a few years younger than Callie, had emerged as Trevor approached them. 

"Who are you guys..." 

"We're the Ghostbusters. I'm Adisa Spengler an-" 

"And you're late." Alexandra chuckled, looking up at Egon. 

A few days had passed as Alexandra had sat in Egon's makeshift lab, her hands fidgeting away. "Spengle's sweetheart... could you lean the light over here? " she asked as it shifted, fixing her old proton pack. She could see Trever and Podcast with Peter and Ray on Ecto -1 duty while Callie and Phoebe and watched her work, "Your father and I aren't gonna fix these ourselves, you know." she mentioned,  still looking down, "You too Adisa" 

"So how long are you planning to stay ma, I mean Ms. Alexandra." 

"Mmm... Let's see, Egon, what do you think?"  Alexandra asked as Adisa chuckled, "He knows you're thinking two weeks ..." she smirked, "I can translate from the afterlife if you were wondering Callie," she shrugged. 

Callie laughed, "It gives us time to get to know each other, I guess." 

"Mhmm... Besides, I promise out the pair I'm the fun step-grandmother."

[chrysalispen]

kissing prompt: ‘a kiss meant to seduce’

not answering these in any particular order but tbh i’m trying to get these nero/WoL wips out the door so have another prompt response. more or less a lead-in to this fic i wrote which i don’t hate quite enough to take down.

not explicit, but probably a T/M rating on AO3 for mention of dirty talk etc.

=============================================================

All told, no one had seemed to be in an agreeable mood on the way down to the Find from the Crystal Tower courtyard, or after they'd arrived. Cid's expression had been positively thunderous, blue eyes dark with his agitation, and the overall feeling from the other Ironworks engineers on site ran the gamut between confusion and suspicious resignation.

Well. Almost no one. Their sudden interloper seemed quite cheerful about the entire circumstance, as though all of this were going exactly the way he had wanted and they were all just cogs in some machine he'd set in motion.

That idea was absurd, of course; Nero tol Scaeva couldn't have had much more of an inkling of what was behind those doors than anyone else here, surely. But the calm, self-assured way he moved told her he did know something, and more to the point, that he had some plan in mind for it once they’d bypassed all the security for him.

That alone was more than enough to make her wary.

She glanced from side to side, looking for Cid, but he appeared to have quit the Find in a fit of pique (not that she particularly blamed him). The other engineers were just as busy, and G'raha was animatedly chattering to Unei and Doga who were both attempting to answer his flood of questions as best as they could manage.

Everyone seemed to have quite forgotten her presence now that her ability to brute-force the doors to the Labyrinth open was no longer necessary. She wished she could feel even slightly surprised, but that was what she was here for, she supposed. The muscle, the good luck charm.

With a sigh, Aurelia approached Rammbroes' study pavilion and lifted the tent flaps, letting herself inside. If the scholar or one of his fellows -- or better yet, Cid -- was there, she could talk with them, feel out if there was anything that they ought to be concerned about before venturing into the tower should Nero's timely appearance be subterfuge for something sinister...? But the tent was---

---the tent was not empty, as it had appeared from the outside. A familiar figure turned towards the sound of her entrance, a leather-bound book clasped in one hand.

She immediately reached for her weapon, snapping, "What are you--"

Nero tol Scaeva lifted his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

"Before you cut me down in cold blood, the journal is mine own. I was attempting to compare my notes with that of your associates here."

Aurelia's eyes narrowed but the tribunus only stared back, a look that was both coaxing and challenging at the same time, as if waiting to see what she would do. Finally she relented, tucking her staff back over her shoulder. While it was obvious he'd come in here by himself to rummage through papers, it seemed that he hadn't been here much longer than she had. So it wasn't as though he had had sufficient opportunity to do anything.

Nothing she could prove at the moment, anyroad.

"And the tomestones? I can't imagine you'd want to leave those behind without having a look for yourself."

"They're welcome to them," Nero said with a dismissive shrug.

She blinked. “That was... not the answer I expected.”

"Personal experience from the Ultima Project. The majority of those tomestones will be naught more than particularly expensive paperweights; what useful data exists on them has quite likely been eroded due to time and exposure. As counterintuitive as it may seem, their decision to keep written documentation of the dig may be the wiser course of action."  His pale blue eyes had not tracked away from her face the entire time he had spoken. The gaze he’d leveled upon her was sharp, scrutinizing, intense, and this time she didn't have the benefit of his magitek armor to hide that interest from her sight.

Not that he was bothering to hide it in any way. What game was he playing...?

She broke eye contact, feeling ill at ease as she glanced at the entrance to Rammbroes' tent. She'd backed up against a nearby worktable; heavy and sturdy, it sat just below her waist, at hip height. Perfectly appropriate for a roegadyn sitting down to pen missives or peruse dusty old texts or review Allagan tomestones.

Nero was smiling but he still hadn't said anything, and that made her uncomfortable enough to finally break the silence between them with a defensive "What?"

"Any particular reason you happen to be blushing?"

"Wh- I'm not blushing."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

The right corner of his lips tugged slightly upwards, just enough to reveal a flash of canine. She chewed on her lower lip, grasping at the table for a sense of purchase and trying not to think about things she... really should not be thinking about. Really shouldn't. Like how in the seven hells a man was born with a mouth like that. It was- it was unfair.

His answering chuckle made her realize, much to her chagrin, that she had spoken aloud.

He braced his hands against the table's surface and leaned his weight back against it, slotting himself in the open space at her side. Unconsciously, Aurelia shifted herself to put a few ilms of space between them, trying not to think about the difference in height that was somehow far more noticeable now. Nero tol Scaeva was damnably tall; she was average height for a Garlean woman and still barely came up to his shoulders when they stood side by side, let alone in a position like this.

"To that end I've a question for you, eikon-slayer,” he continued smoothly, “if you would be so kind as to indulge me."

"About...?"

"I find it passing strange that a woman who can slay gods without blinking should find my presence in any way disconcerting. An artifact of your upbringing, I assume?" He was baiting her, she knew; the tone of his question was decidedly mocking. But that smile-- that had turned into something speculative and dark. Combined with the intensity of his stare, it set alight a strange, pressurized heat in the pit of her stomach. "Does Garlond elicit this reaction?"

"Cid? Hardly." Aurelia wrenched her gaze away from the movements of his lips to stare over his shoulder at the tent opening. Scholars and Ironworks engineers were passing to and fro just outside; she could see the shadows they cast upon the tarpaulin. "Cid also doesn't stand two ilms away from my face and stare me right in the eyes like he's about to devour me, so take that as you will, I suppose."

" 'Devour' you? What an interesting turn of phrase. Although I must admit you make a salient point. I cannot imagine that you are embarrassed by the slightest of his attentions as you are mine."

Was... was he trying to do what she suspected he was doing? The idea seemed laughable on its face -- Eorzea had no shortage of beautiful women, so who on earth would find her appealing? -- but the problem she currently faced was that it was actually working, damn him. It didn’t help that it had been... she couldn't remember how long since anyone had taken any sort of prurient interest in her, now that she thought about it.

Assuming of course that she wasn't just overthinking this and he wasn't putting her wind up for fun. Either way, she had to put an end to this now before it escalated any further.

"Unfortunately for you, I am not interested.” Calm, collected, and to the point. Yes, she thought; very well done.

She'd hoped that her bluntness would deter him, but that smile only widened, the maw of a hunting predator about to strike.

"Something tells me you are perhaps not being forthright with me." His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth. "Shame on you, hero."

"I mean it. I am not interested," she repeated, this time with more resolve. "After what you did in the Prae-"

"Ah, you're concerned that I might turn on you all like a rabid dog, as it were. Worry for Garlond? Thinking I might sabotage his precious Ironworks or somesuch?"

"Not---no, none of those things, not as such, but to say I trust you would be a stretch. Not a word in all these weeks and suddenly you turn up, unannounced, as thought naught had transpired?"

"Your concern is unwarranted. Merely do I find myself with a plethora of free time in the wake of my sudden discharge from military service.”

“You-,” she began, but he was not finished.

“Lest you labor beneath the assumption that I intend you any sort of bodily harm, for a long while before we were... shall we say ‘formally introduced’, I had this recurring dream about you, me, and an interrogation chair-" At the wide flare of her eyes, he paused, only to grin at her: "...Now that, eikon-slayer, is a very interested look."

She tried to scoff at him, but it came out as a short, sharp, nervous bark.

"What look? I didn't give you any look."

"You most certainly did."

"You're reading intent where none exists-"

"Am I? Couple that with the fact you're mortified by the slightest hint of insinuation on my part and it's quite telling."

"Scaeva, I was in the legions myself once. Do you seriously think I'd not been exposed to the odd bit of barracks chatter?" She scowled at him. "I'm a chirurgeon by trade. I think I know enough of the human condition not to be easily embarrassed by such things."

There it was--the look she'd seen him pass Cid every time he was wont to needle the man in the space of a single conversation, coupled with the upwards arch of one eyebrow. She’d not realized how aggravating it was to be on the receiving end of that look until this moment, now that she was the subject of Nero's condescension. 

"I'd wager that what you believe passes for 'barracks chatter' is overwhelmingly tame. You've not heard the half of it, I assure you. Even the worst among the rank and file will behave themselves around a skirt, especially if the lady in question is a pureblood."

"Perhaps if the lady had seen no military service. I imagine there is precious little they could say that would shock me."

He pushed himself upright and turned to face her, bracing his hands on either side and giving her precious little in the way of an escape route. 

“I am very willing to test your hypothesis."

"I'm sure you are.” She kept her voice steady with some considerable effort. His mouth now lingered but a bare hairsbreadth apart from her own, and trying not to think about that fact was only causing her to hyperfocus on it.

"No time like the present,” he said, “and I am a man of science. Call it professional curiosity, if you like. May I?"

He'd called her bluff, and after her own assertion she felt she had little choice but to accept the consequences. At last Aurelia nodded, stiffly, trying to ignore the faintly triumphant curl to his answering smile.

His hand cupped her jaw, warm and callused fingertips trailing the shell of her ear, palm just barely cradling the soft skin over her throat. If he wished he could close his grip and tighten it, squeeze until she had no air to breathe- but the Echo would have warned her of any killing intent. Although it gave her no indication of any danger from him, it took a conscious effort not to bolt under his arm and flee the tent. Tension thrummed through her frame like a live wire.

Nero leaned inward until they were cheek to cheek. Her breath hitched for the briefest of moments when she felt the light scrape of stubble and caught his scent: some kind of aftershave perhaps, a bit stringent but not unpleasant, and the heat in her belly clenched tight. Lips lingered at her ear and she could feel the tribunus' warm breath fanning very lightly across her skin.

Then he began to speak.

Sotto voce, in their native Garlean tongue. A soft, soporific rumble, breath just slightly uneven- and not the mildly suggestive banter or off-color jokes she’d expected but a soldier's words of coupling, rough and lascivious and filthy.

All of it aimed at her. 

Her grip on the table tightened as she willed herself to remain still through the impulse to slap him or shove him away in shocked mortification, as he well knew a proper young lady of gentle birth would have been expected to do. He knew, too; could sense her dismay, how much it cost her just to maintain some semblance of composure, and he wasn't fooled by it.

He was laughing at her, the bastard: she could hear the soft, breathy chuckles woven through his unending stream of vulgarities. Her face felt as though he had set it afire and she knew she was probably bright red right down to the roots of her hair---and then she felt the press of his mouth, a light kiss along the juncture of her jaw just beneath the earlobe.

A hot shudder of anticipation warped its way down her spine.

"So the eikon-slayer is undone by a bit of bawdy talk after all." He had not moved his lips away from her skin before speaking. She could feel the heat of his breath against her, warm and velvet and damp and gods, he was practically purring in her ear- "It would appear your theory has been disproven, hero."

She found herself unable to respond, mouth feeling suddenly very dry, swallowing with some effort. The clicking sound her throat made in her ears as she did was so, so loud.

And before she had quite managed to gather her wits again, Nero tol Scaeva straightened his posture and backed away from her position against the table with a mocking bow before tucking the journal in his coat pocket and strolling towards the tent flap. Turning his back on her, quite deliberately, and making his exit.

As though the entire exchange had never occurred.

She let out the exhalation she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging back against the sturdy oak surface of Rammbroes’ makeshift writing desk and attempting to ease her breathing into something resembling an even pace. He'd left her rattled and flustered and... burning. There was a deep, aching knot of tension that had formed in the base of her belly, one that would not fade quickly.

And she suspected that like as not, he’d only done it to prove a point, namely that his wits were malms beyond hers and her victory in the Praetorium had been but a simple fluke, a stroke of blind luck.

Small wonder Cid's hackles had been raised by his mere presence. Hells take him, the man was utterly insufferable.

After some time had passed (and the heat in her cheeks had faded), she slipped out of Rammbroes' "study" and saddled her chocobo. She had to talk to Cid about this, she decided, regardless of how sour his mood might be. Someone was going to have to keep an eye on Nero once they set foot in the tower, and given everyone else’s relative importance in the grand scheme of things, it might as well be her; she could endure his baiting so long as she made sure they had an understanding.

Aurelia didn’t see any sign of him on her way out of the camp. Doubtlessly he’d gone in search of someone or something else to act as his temporary source of entertainment until the expedition into the Tower was underway, she thought. She could not well decide if she was disappointed or relieved. 

But if he planned to behave this way the entire time, it was going to be a very, very long expedition indeed.

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

WARNING: Sensuality, including a first time with fingering.

CHAPTER THREE

Indeed, Jennifer Punzel was standing at the door. She looked exactly the same as the last time Anna had seen her, all bright smiles and soft hair. Punz.

Until Anna saw her in that moment, she hadn't realised just how much she'd missed her. Dashing forward, she swept her into her arms and held her close, grateful for a familiar face. One that hadn't changed the way everything else had. She picked her up bodily and swung her around in a circle, literally flinging one of her ballet flats across the entrance hall into the corner.

"Whoa, whoa!" she giggled, though she was clearly pleased with the reaction. "Okay, I get it, you're happy to see me – and that's not just a banana in your pocket!"

"Stupid," she choked out in an overcome, affectionate voice. Then she set her down and pulled back to grin down at her soft cheeks, pressing their foreheads together.

"McFly, what the heck? You act like you haven't seen me in a week."

"I haven't."

"Dork." Shaking her head, Punz leaned up to kiss her nose. Anna fought back her surprise; it seemed not everything was the same as she'd left it. Once more, something had changed for the better. "Are we all set for the lake tonight? I was kinda worried when you weren't up yet this morning, but we have plenty of time left."

Alarmed, she blinked over at Elsa. Was it still alright for her to go with Jennifer, after everything that had happened? Could she handle being in the moment with her when they could no longer be each other's firsts now? It was a truly sad thought; she didn't mean for any of this to happen, but the plan had been to be the first ones to explore each other's pants before Doc's crazy time machine wrecked that whole idea.

But not just their pants. Anna had wanted Punz to be her first, in every possible way. First love, first kiss…first everything. Her only, if everything worked out. Sure, Anna hadn't 'returned the favor', but it wasn't exactly a one-sided affair. Should she keep it a secret? Should she refrain from telling Punz that she wasn't… untouched?

Eyes falling to Elsa, briefly, Anna came to a decision: it didn't matter. Virginity was antiquated, and it didn't lessen Punz's importance in her life. She couldn't undo her actions, but she could make sure that her future ones were exactly what she wanted.

She just needed to make sure she knew what she wanted.

Turning to Elsa, not letting go of Punz, she said, "Mom? That okay? Can… I go?"

"Of course," Elsa said with a wide smile. "We have all the time in the world to talk when you get back." That was obviously intended to be more meaningful than the words would convey to Jennifer, of course. "Have fun, you two."

"Great!" Punz latched onto Anna's arm and dragged her back to her bedroom to begin packing. But all the while, her thoughts were still stubbornly stuck in the living room, with the woman she thought would vanish when she returned to the present.

                              ~ o ~

The lake was beautiful this time of year, when the Autumn was just beginning to grip the trees and turn them red and gold. Many of them would never turn, due to how far south in California they were, but it was still quite majestic to look out over.

"Man… I can't believe we're finally doing this," Anna sighed as she stretched her limbs, gazing out over the water.

Jennifer gave a small chuckle. "Well, after you flaked on me last night, I was wondering if we were going to get a chance," she said, though there was no bite to her words. Anna still turned her head away, blushing.

"Yeah… sorry about that. I dunno what happened." At least that wasn't a lie. Anna really had no idea what she'd done yesterday in this life. But they were here now. The water was smooth and clear, reflecting the sun as it sank towards the horizon. It wasn't quite sunset, but the air was growing cool. Anna only really first noticed it when Punz sidled up, just a little so their shoulders were touching.

Anna didn't mean to compare. But now that she had some experience, she couldn't help herself. Elsa had been so forceful; for a closeted queer of the mid-80s, Elsa had been really… bold. By contrast, Punz was tentative. Careful. Anna would have been, too, if the last week hadn't happened.

Not now, though. Looking over at her friend, Anna knew what she wanted.

"Jen…" Her hand came up to comb through her soft brown forelocks, brushing them back and over her ear as she leaned closer. "I don't know why this took us so long, but… I think there's no better place."

"Jen?" she whispered with a little chuckle. "What happened to 'Punz'? Or is this too serious for nicknames?"

"It's pretty serious." Taking her hands, she squeezed them gently. "I'm so happy to be with you. And I mean like… be with you."

That did startle the other girl, and she blinked as her breath caught. "Wh… o-oh. Anna, I…" Biting her lip for a moment, she looked away and down, then back up at her. "Yeah. Maybe we're ready. And I think I have been for a really, really long time, I just… well, y'know. Friends first, and all that crap."

"Yeah, that crap," she chuckled. They were getting closer, and closer still. Anna's eyes slid closed, feeling hot breath on her lips…

And she saw her mother in her mind's eye. Leaning in to kiss her on the bed in their house before it was their house, surging across the car seats to take her lips. Comforting her in the living room, even with Anna being as disgusting as she possibly could be.

Her head turned away at the very last second, pressing into Punz's cheek. It wasn't going to work. Yes, she did care her, but she couldn't use that to drive out other feelings, towards other people, that easily.

"Anna?" came the trembling question into her ear, and Anna's hands twitched to clamp down harder on her soft shoulders before she removed them entirely. She didn't deserve to touch Punz, not with what she was about to reveal.

"Something… something happened…" Anna said softly. "And it's been weird, and a mess, and I don't really understand it myself. But I think we gotta… I gotta tell you before we keep going."

She had to pause to gather her thoughts. Punz pulled away, just a little, to look Anna in the eye. God she looked so beautiful. Anna raised a hand, wanting to touch her friend but unable to convince herself to actually do it. She didn't deserve to yet.

"I want this with you," she whispered. "So bad. For a long time! But I don't know how much would be because of my feelings for you, or because of how much I want to… to run away from my feelings for someone else. And that's not cool." Closing her eyes, cards on the table, she spoke around the tightness in her chest. "It sounds so cliché to say, 'it's not you, it's me', but there's no other way to put it. I fucked up. And until I can give all of myself to… exploring what we have… it's not fair to use you to like, erase my other feelings. That's bad. I might not know much, but I know that."

It was obvious that Jen didn't know how to react. Anna had expected that. Pulling away entirely, she gave a self-deprecating laugh. "And now I'm screwing up our weekend, too. God…"

"Hey, no," Punz said, her voice uncertain. Very uncertain, but apparently she wasn't going anywhere. "You haven't messed anything up."

"Yes, I have… I really have. God, why can't I just…" Her hands fisted against her forehead, clutching at the bangs that normally fell there, messing up her braids.

"Anna! Whoa, whoa…" Punz gently pried the hands away, caressing over her wrists as she did so. "Listen. I'm… we've been hanging out forever. It makes sense you would want to try… I don't know, just see what's out there? Whatever it is- whoever it is, I'm not gonna be upset."

That prompted a humourless laugh from Anna. Oh, if she only knew… but she couldn't cross that bridge. Not just yet, if ever. "I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not." They both shared a wry little smile, even if Anna was feeling it a lot more than before. "But… can I ask for one thing? In exchange for how completely cool about this I'm being right now."

"Name it," she snorted.

"Kiss me." Her hands wrapped around the collar of Anna's shirt, pulling her in close. "Just do it. Once. I want you to know what you're missing when you're… well, when you're 'thinking things over'."

So that was her game plan. She could tell that Punz had already painted a possible image in her mind of what happened. The night they were supposed to go to the lake, Anna met another woman, fell for her, and now she couldn't make up her mind. Which, in a way, was true… even if it wasn't so cut-and-dry as all that.

"You'd still kiss me? Even after I told you that?" For the hundredth time that day, she could feel wetness gathering at the corners of her eyes.

When Punz gave a chuckle, it sounded like she was on the verge of tears herself. Even as her face moved ever clsoer. "Well… yeah."

Oh. Anna couldn't deny that she wanted to kiss Punz. Jennifer. But she wanted a lot of things. She longed for a life not messed over by time travel and- and incest, oh god! But she shook that thought from her head. Now wasn't the time for that. Punz deserved that, at least. So, trembling, she nodded.

"Only- only if you want," Anna said softly. Punz smiled and leaned closer.

"I want," she replied against Anna's lips, before finally sealing them.

It was everything she had ever hoped. Soft and sweet. Punz took the lead, and Anna let her. It was only fair. Anna didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve to be kissed so softly, sweetly… tenderly.

But there was one thing Punz's patience and understanding had accomplished: she certainly wasn't thinking about anyone else but her now. Fully focused on her lips, her gentle heat and her soft cheeks. A completely different experience than the other one she had.

When Jennifer pushed her back into the bed of the truck, Anna wrapped her arms around her body, pulling her down with her. Letting her maintain control. The kissing grew more vigorous, and hands began to wander. When she felt one at her hip, she broke the kiss to speak.

"Punz… wait."

"Huh?" she mumbled, a little dazed.

"Just… slow down. We have all night." Her hand reached up to comb through her hair again, and she smiled at the light flush in the cheeks of her girlfriend. "But… yeah, wow."

"Wow," Punz giggled as she curled up around Anna's body. "Mmm, sorry. I know our first real heavy kiss almost turned into our first time, but I guess I've been holding back the urges so long they kinda just…"

"Exploded? Yeah… yeah, I know what you mean." Of course, Anna was talking about a situation involving someone else, but she definitely knew what she was talking about.

Then the meaning behind her words became clear to Anna. "Wait, whoa, you- you would? With me?" Anna asked. There was an implicit, "now?" to the question, which was by most accounts redundant anyway. If Anna hadn't stopped her, would they have continued, despite what she had revealed only moments before?

Punz didn't answer, not with words. She moved a little closer; held a little tighter. One hand, which hand come to rest on Anna's stomach, moved up, stopping just below her breasts. "You can kiss me, too, you know," she said. In the still of the evening, her words may as well have been shouted.

Swallowing, Anna smiled. "If you want…" One corner of Punz's mouth twitched in a grin.

"I want, Anna," she said again, voice strong and words fierce. She was saying other things, too, with her body and with her eyes; things that Anna couldn't bring herself to think about, not yet, because they brought her too close to the topic she didn't want to remember. She didn't want to taint Punz, or the memories she made with her.

So Anna kissed her, lost herself in the feeling of Punz, her girlfriend. And maybe she could find peace with her. Brief snatches of it, like now.

"I don't deserve you," she said when they parted again. "How are you so… perfect? And beautiful, inside and out?"

"You deserve me because I say so," came the reply. "And I think you deserve every part."

"Glad one of us does." Her hands began to run up and down the length of Punz's body, from shoulder along her slight chest and down to her curving hip, back up along her ribcage. Punz closed her eyes. Clearly, she had been waiting for Anna to take some initiative for a while.

So she did. Maybe she couldn't fully give herself to Jennifer yet with everything swimming around in her head, but she could give Jennifer what she was craving most.

A soft "Oh" fell from her lips when Anna began rubbing her through her jeans. But she said no more than that, merely leaning in to kiss her again. So Anna kept it up, gliding her fingers up and down along what she knew lay beneath. Their breaths grew shakier, though Punz's were shakier still than her own, until finally she had to break away from the kiss to breathe.

"You… can tell me to stop anytime," Anna reassured her in a soft voice. Hoping to mirror some of her girlfriend's confidence, she added, "But I hope you don't."

"Anna…" Her thighs parted slightly, and she raised one up to drape over Anna's hip, giving her access. Granting permission for her to go as far as she was willing.

So she went further. The fingertips glided up again, but this time they took a moment to unbutton, unzip, and then rub at her through the lace of her panties. Clearly Punz had planned for this. Anna smiled, glancing down to look at what she was doing.

Purple underwear.

Anna froze. Her brain short-circuited even as Punz moaned against her ear. How could- how could she do this? After what she'd allowed to happen to herself only the night before, at her mother's hands?

"Please, Anna," Punz said, hips grinding jerkily. Unpractised. Anna forced her mind back to present day. This wasn't about her. It was about Punz, and treating her like the only girl in the world. She was the only girl in Anna's world. And for whatever reason, she thought Anna worthy of her. She couldn't let her down when she deserved to be happy. To have a first time free of worry.

"Sorry," Anna whispered, redoubling her efforts. "Here…"

This time, when she pushed past the waistband, she was able to stay focused. Jennifer looked so beautiful laid out below her, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as she panted. Anna smiled at the cute little buck teeth; she had always thought they were adorable. She kissed her cheek and neck as she slid down through her soft hairs to glide up against her wetness.

"OH!" she gasped out. "Anna!"

"I-is it alright?" she asked, though she didn't stop or draw away. She was reasonably sure it was alright… but had to ask. Maybe Elsa had gone down on her, but this was her first time initiating or trying anything herself. All new territory.

"Y-yeah… mmmhh, oh it's so much better than when I do it." A little soft laugh. "Maybe that's a silly thing to s-say right now…"

"Nah. You sound incredible. And you feel…" Anna didn't have words. Was this what it was like to touch another woman? It almost felt wrong, like she shouldn't be allowed to get this close to someone, but at the same time she had never felt more honoured to indulge in her wicked side. Her one regret was that Punz couldn't be given that honour in return.

Most of all, because it was Punz. The woman she loved. Even if she had been confused by other recent events, that hadn't really changed… just been obscured.

"You're beautiful," Anna whispered. "I'm so lucky…"

And she was, in so many ways. Punz was giving her everything, no shame or hesitation. As stupid as she thought the notion of virginity, Anna was at least able to recognise that to some people, it held value – and a moment like this, regardless, was special.

Anna wrestled with a thought, even as she was pushing Jen ever closer to her climax: did she deserve to know? The answer was a resounding 'yes', but it raised other questions: was Anna brave enough to tell her? Did she think Punz would believe her?

Too big. The thoughts were too big to answer alone; she needed to talk to her mother, or Doc. So she decided to shake them for now. No need to kill her mood, and Punz's, with those kinds of thoughts. Instead, she simply focused harder on the woman she was with. Though inexperienced, Anna made up for it in her eagerness to please her girlfriend.

Slipping a finger inside Jennifer for the first time was an interesting experience. Anna marvelled at the slickness that clenched around her and she took her time in exploring, poking and prodding to figure out what felt best. She was rewarded by a choked cry, the feeling of Jennifer's fingers digging into her shoulder, and the swell of pride in her chest that she was the cause of it.

Within about five furious minutes of Anna stroking her inner walls, growing accustomed to how she felt inside, Jennifer was getting close to her climax. Anna had never felt anyone else do that before but all the signs were unmistakable: shorter, more shallow breaths, the squirming of her hips, and the way she called out Anna's name in a continual litany. It made her heart soar to hear her this way; maybe it spread heat to her own nether regions, as well, but if she were truly being honest, that took a distant backseat to simply seeing the woman she loved look so purely joyful.

"Anna!" Punz finally called out, writhing and gasping for breath as she clutched at Anna's shoulders, face sheathed in sweat. "More! Yes!"

"Come for me. Just let it all out!" Maybe that was a stupid response, but it was all Anna could think of to say. She just wanted to hear her love moan and enjoy herself.

And she did – the orgasm rocked her and turned her into a thing unhinged, completely given over to the moment. It was one of the most beautiful sights she had seen in all her life. Minutes and aftershocks passed, and all that time Anna couldn't keep her eyes off Jennifer's sweet, blushing face.

And then came the giggles. They were tired and slow, but still there.

"Wow," Punz said after a moment. "Wow. That was… God."

Anna smirked. "Thanks, but you can just call me Anna."

At that, Punz squealed, giving her a light shove. "You nerd," she said, fondness seeping into her voice. It managed to resurrect the blush that had been rapidly fading, highlighting her freckles. The sun had sunk well towards the horizon, and the cool steel of the truck bed had begun to soak into their clothes and their skin. Anna shivered, and Punz nuzzled in close.

"Maybe we should move," Anna suggested softly.

"Mmm don't wanna…" Punz whined. Still she sat up; she had actually made it from the truck before she realised her pants were still undone.

"I tell you what; that's hot." Biting her lip, Anna hopped out of the truck bed. She glanced at her hand, then up at her girlfriend. "Hey, Punz…"

"What?" She looked a little drained when she turned around, probably from the outpouring of energy. But when she saw Anna taking the finger she had used on her into her mouth, her eyes flew open. "Anna! You… o-oh…"

The smile was clearly pleased as Anna drew the finger back out. She herself was blushing, too; this was not a level of boldness she was used to attempting at all. Maybe the one good thing about what happened to her in the past was that she had gotten over that shyness.

Well, there were many good things. But she didn't want to think about the rest at the moment.

"You're so bad," she muttered as she skipped back over toward Anna to place a kiss on her cheek. "Anyway… um… I don't think you have to worry about me running off just because of those 'complications' you mentioned earlier. If you keep making me moan like that, the least I can do is give you room to figure yourself out."

Anna didn't have any words to tell Punz how much she appreciated that thought. At the same time, though, she didn't think it was fair on the other girl. Unable to look at her for the moment, Anna instead faced the ground.

"You don't have to wait for me," she said softly. "That's not fair on you."

Punz snorted. Anna heard her take a few steps, and before she could glance up, the other girl had come to a stop. Punz took her hands and squeezed them.

"What do you think I've been doing?" she asked with a smile. "Anyway, I decide what I want to waste time on – and for whatever reason, that's you."

Her words sounded harsh, but her smile and sarcastic tone took out any bite that may have remained. And without prompting, she bent forward, pressing her lips against Anna's just once, quickly.

"Punz…"

"And now you know what you're gonna be missing," she said softly. "Now, c'mon. I'm getting hungry."

And with that, she was off, giggling again. Anna stared in mingling delight and wonder, with a quiet undercurrent of dread. Punz deserved the best; she just had to figure out if the best meant her.

                              ~ o ~

The rest of the night went great. Even though Anna turned down Punzie's attempts to return the favour – saying she just wanted to hang out for the rest of the night, much to her girlfriend's disappointment – they had a great time, building a campfire and roasting hot dogs and marshmallows, laughing about the upcoming dance and chatting about the future of the band. It wasn't exciting, but Anna had enough excitement for one lifetime.

No thanks to the Doc. To help cover for what happened the night before, she did end up telling Jennifer about the experiment, and how Doc almost died. She looked horrified and worried. Even though she had only brought Punz around once or twice to meet him, she still seemed to think he was funny in a quirky way and was genuinely concerned about his health. But Anna promised they would go check in on Doc when they got back.

Then they passed out in the bed of the truck in their sleeping bags. It was the first time Anna had ever really slept beside someone in that way, and she couldn't sleep at first. Too giddy and too full of affection. Punz was much the same, grinning across at her silently as the stars twinkled overhead. They kissed a few times, but tried not to do it too much so they would eventually fall asleep.

Eventually.

Early the next morning, Anna felt something nuzzling her. For a split second, she worried it was a bear or something, but then a slight smile pulled at her lips when she remembered who she was with. She didn't make a sound – why say good morning when she could show Punz instead?

So, rolling over, Anna snuggled in further, lips pressing against a warm throat. She was rewarded with a soft moan that sent gentle vibrations through her lips.

"Mmmm, someone's up," Punz commented. Anna didn't bother replying – not with words, at any rate. The air was cool as she took her arms from her sleeping bag, using them to ensnare Punz and push her over.

"Someone is," Anna said, gazing goofily at her- her girlfriend? They hadn't discussed labels, but judging from Jennifer's actions, she wasn't exactly looking at other people.

Unlike Anna. Geez. But it wasn't the time for that. This weekend was about Punz, not about some thing that happened two nights ago – or thirty years ago, depending on one's perspective.

Luckily, Punz was there to help shift her from that downward spiral, pulling her own hands out to embrace Anna and draw her close. She leaned up, pressing their lips together – it was like a drug. Anna couldn't get enough, and from Punz's own willingness to initiate, she was the same. This time, Anna took the opportunity to nibble at her through her shirt. Punz giggled, then began to pant when she felt the lips making short work of her peaks through the fabric. Anna not only needed this, but rejoiced in it, plying at the surface.

But it reminded her of another moment involving nipples. One that she put out of her mind immediately; this was their weekend. Not a weekend to reflect on the insanity of the past. Punz was already rolling her over onto her back, pinning her and smirking downward.

"Got you, McFly."

"You sure did," she half-panted with a beaming smile. Then she saw Punz trying the same thing on her. "Ooh… this is… freakin' hot." Except there was something missing. Something she definitely remembered another girl playing with only just last week. A hand shot up to the tit not currently being lavished, and it confirmed her suspicions.

Her piercings were gone.

She had a moment of panic before the realisation hit her: this universe, this Anna, had never had reason to get them. There had been no alcoholic mother to rebel against. Sure, she was still interested in getting them, but she knew deep down that the last little push that sent her to the tattoo parlour had been a fight with her mother.

Punz hadn't noticed her distraction, probably taking her movement as encouragement, as a sign that Anna was more than enjoying the actions. And she was! A hum of appreciation had Anna's attention moving away from her ruminations and into this moment.

"You better believe it is," Punz murmured.

Then she began to steadily kiss downward. Anna didn't want her to stop. She craved it. She still remembered the feeling of having someone there, to be completely at their mercy.

But that was the thought that had her pushing Punz away, scrambling to sit up. The morning air only made the peaks of her nipples that much more prominent, and Anna had a sudden desire to cover herself. She didn't regret what she had done with Elsa – not exactly. But it still made her feel… dirty.

"Anna?" Punz asked gently, puzzled and perhaps a little hurt. "Did- did you not want me to…?"

"No!" Anna cried, before she could stop herself. And then she cringed. "I mean… I do want this – want you. I just… need time."

It was a piss-poor excuse, Anna knew that. Even if it was the truth. How was she ever supposed to move on and get better if she didn't give herself a chance? Elsa had even said as much – she'd had years, decades, to come to terms. Anna had been given hours.

Of course Punz looked put out by being turned down. But to her credit, she shrugged and turned to lean against the side of the truck bed, drawing her knees up to her chin as she looked out over the lake.

"Kay."

After a second or two, Anna managed to suppress all of her urges – and her instinct to cry – and crawled up to sit next to her. "I'm, uh, working through something. Let's just say… I hooked up with somebody. And I didn't mean for it to happen, but she was really… really forceful." A rueful chuckle escaped her at the thought.

"Forceful? She didn't… I mean, it wasn't-"

"No, no," she assured her, smiling fondly at how alarmed Punz was on her behalf. Her hand took up the other girl's, and she felt her squeeze in recognition. "It's okay, I'm okay. Just… yeah, I really didn't expect that, and now I don't want to just… you know… 'Why not let Punz do it again?' I want it to be about us, about sharing that moment with just you."

Though Jen looked a little green to be discussing Anna being with someone else, she continued to smile, albeit weakly. "Um… okay, I don't know exactly how you want me to react to this."

"I don't want you to react any one way. Just trying to let you know why I'm being so weird, that's all. Sorry."

"Yeah. And… it's okay, I… well, we've been such awkward turtles, and never straight-up said we were 'girlfriend and girlfriend' before. Maybe we were exclusively almost-dating but we never actually made it official, so it'd be pretty stupid for me to be upset over you, um, looking into other options."

"It wasn't like that!" she cried, though it definitely sounded less angry and more defeated. "She… I made sure to tell her about you, and- and my feelings. But somehow she just…"

"Worked her way in there anyway?" Punz's voice was soft, and maybe a little sad. Anna broke.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, leaning in close. Her eyes grew wet, and she knew it wasn't fair to seek this kind of comfort from Punz; but she also knew Punz wouldn't push her away. Selfish as it was, that was a nice thought.

Anna wasn't even sure how long had passed when she stopped crying and pulled away from the hug to wipe at her face. Punz helped her, pushing her tears off her cheeks with both thumbs.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah. God, I'm sorry for falling apart like that, when I'm the one who's the jerk here."

"Nobody's the jerk here," she chuckled. "Well, except maybe for this other chick who jumped your bones without you expecting it."

"Maybe," Anna had to admit out the side of her mouth. Then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Well. I'm pretty sure it's totally over with her, anyway, so this might be the last conversation we have about this for a while."

"Uh-huh." There was a little disbelief in that one response, but Punz instead focused on reaching into a backpack that had been pushed up close to the cab. "Breakfast?"

So they moved on to munching on Pop Tarts and sipping hot chocolate as they watched the sun rise a little higher over the lake. Slowly, Anna started to hear some of the differences between how Punz was with her when she knew her, and the way she had been with Alternate-Anna. Apparently, this version of herself had the luxury of a supportive mother, so all her nervousness was purely based around how much she liked Jennifer instead of disapproval from her parents. That was a boon, even if one she didn't get to experience directly. The other differences were very slight, such as a few of their running in-jokes being absent, and Punz expecting her to know a few that she didn't. But almost everything else was the same.

And that was something that Anna appreciated, far more than she could put into words. Her life wasn't the same – overnight, it had changed, drastically. For the better, sure, but that didn't mean Anna liked all of it. Her whole life had been about some very specific routines. And while her life had changed around her, she was still the same as she had been before. She was 'Anna from the Dark Timeline' or something equally scifi-sounding.

Man. Maybe she needed to talk to someone about this. Someone not invested.

Of course, if Anna had noticed, then Punz wasn't any different. She didn't comment, but Anna could see that wanted to. The question never really left her eyes – "what happened?" – but Anna didn't have an answer; even if she did, she wasn't sure that Punz was ready to hear it anyway.

So they swam a little, admiring each other's bodies – though not seeing them on full display. Still that slight bit shy, and probably more because of Anna's reluctance that Punz couldn't quite understand. It was becoming clear this wasn't a situation they could let fester.

Eventually, they packed up to head back into town. Anna kissed Punz again around the corner from her parents' house, since they didn't like Anna in either reality. Then she dropped her off and headed for home. But on the way there, she had another idea pop up.

Who was the one person who actually fully understood her situation?

                               TO BE CONTINUED…

[esselley]

Happy birthday @allykat023​! I’m so glad I snuck into your DMs all those months ago <333 LOVE YOU LOTS!

[Now on AO3!]

[*clears throat* the context for this fic is that Oikawa is a psychic single dad trying to raise two annoying ghost kids, and the ghosts are winning]

It is beginning to become clear to Tooru that there is, in fact, some absolute bullshit going on, and he is definitely not amused by any of it.

This is the fifth time in a little over a month he’s had to have a plumber come to look at his apartment—he’s even had to reschedule tarot readings—and yet, as far as anyone can tell, plumber included… nothing seems to be the problem.

Which means that the only problem, then, is the bright and unabiding torch Tooru seems to be unable to set down, in regards to the plumber himself.

“So…” the man says, wiping his hands dry on a towel in his belt loop. Tooru has to tear his eyes away from the prominent flex of his biceps as he does so, the swell of his pecs beneath his uniform polo shirt. The name tag on it reads Iwaizumi. “Can you walk me through what happened again?”

Tooru almost offers to walk him wherever he wants to go, up to and including the bedroom. He clenches his jaw shut so the words don’t escape. Now is not the time to be thirsty—he doesn’t even have running water.

“I was in the shower,” he says, and feels his cheeks go distinctly pink just from the suggestion of nakedness, and forces himself to look at the man. Mistake. He finds his gaze being met by a pair of serious, attentive green eyes; Tooru feels like he’s baring his soul, not recapping the issues with his faulty water line. He clears his throat, hoping Iwaizumi has not noticed the unnecessarily long pause while he gathers himself. “I was… showering, when the water started to feel—strange? I don’t know how to describe it. And when I looked, it was… purple.”

“Purple,” Iwaizumi repeats, deadpan.

“Yes.”

“Well,” Iwaizumi says, turning the shower knob to the side. Out the water comes, clear as usual. “It’s not now.”

“I can see that,” Tooru sniffs. It’s one thing to have a crush; it’s another thing to have a crush on someone who clearly thinks he’s an idiot.

“Just like,” the distressingly attractive handyman continues, and oh, no, Tooru can see what’s coming next, “last week, when not only did the water not run cold when you tried to turn it hot, but the toilet also flushed the correct way. Which is to say—”

“Down, yes, I know,” Tooru cuts him off, feeling increasingly mortified. Last week had really been a nightmare—frigid water every time he tried to shower, and toilet geysers every which way he looked. “Look, I’m just as confused as you are! One of your colleagues who came the… second time, was it? He said it could be something to do with the pipes. Mold, or something!” He shudders at the thought. “Maybe he could give a second opinion?”

Iwaizumi scoffs. “He’s not coming back. Why do you think I’ve been here four times already?”

“I don’t… know?” Tooru says. “I figured—scheduling?”

“Yeah, he’s been scheduling himself other jobs so he doesn’t have to come here,” Iwaizumi says. “He’s superstitious. All your weird, mystical stuff, it freaked him out.”

“What—” Tooru can’t believe this. “But it’s not dangerous!”

“You try telling him that,” Iwaizumi says, shaking his head. “He kept telling me he felt a presence.”

“But I would have felt it, too,” Tooru insists. He knows people tend to take one of two routes with this: skittish, like the other plumber. Or skeptical, like Iwaizumi. But he seriously needs his house fixed, or he’s going to lose it. “There’s no other presences here, besides me and—”

He trails off. Wait just a fucking second.

“That’s what I tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t bite. So, good luck getting him back here…” Iwaizumi shrugs. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Tooru waves a hand vaguely. “Oh, I don’t mind that.” He peers around the room, turning in a slow circle.

“You… don’t?” Iwaizumi asks, eyebrows raising in surprise. When Tooru doesn’t answer, he glances around the room suspiciously, too. “What are you doing?”

“Shhh...” Tooru says, holding up a hand. “I’m divining for spirits.”

“Are you serious,” Iwaizumi says flatly. “Listen, I’m gonna pack up and head out—I won’t bill you for today, I barely—”

“Shhhhh!” Tooru hisses, silencing him. The air in the room feels very still, to him—still and pitched high, like a tuning fork being struck although in reality, all is quiet.

He spots movement at the edges of his vision and whips his head sharply to the side, where he sees them—two wide, floating pairs of eyes in the bathroom mirror, not a reflection, but an impression. One pair deep and dark, the other sparking and bright. Two little souls, bound to him by choice.

He flings out a hand and points dramatically at the mirror. “It’s been YOUUUU!” he howls, startling Iwaizumi, and both pairs of eyes dance about in silent panic before blipping out of existence. Only they’re still there, he knows, just hiding.

“What the fuck—” Iwaizumi says, but very unfortunately, Tooru doesn’t have time to devote to him anymore—he needs to figure out how to murder someone who is already dead. An exorcism is too good for these little shits.

“Sorry, Iwa-chan, but I'll have to say bye for today—” Tooru tells him as he rolls his sleeves up menacingly.

“Iwa-chan?”

“The spirits have turned against me!” Tooru yells, shoving him towards the door. “This is no place for a normal person, quickly, escape!”

“Wait a second—”

“I'll be fine!” Tooru insists, before he bodily shoved Iwaizumi out into the hallway. It's not easy—Iwaizumi is solid. “Forget what you saw here today,” Tooru hisses ominously at him through the crack in the door, before slamming it shut in his stunned face.

Now. To deal with his little ghoulish problem.

He yanks the plush tablecloth and all his seance equipment off his dining room table and locates a piece of ordinary chalk. After several moments of frantic scribbling, it is covered in the symbols and sigils of a powerful summoning circle. He places candles around the edges, and begins to chant a binding ritual ominously. The candle flames flicker, and his hair blows in the gathering breeze inside his living room.

A noise begins to build as well, a terrible, scraping, screaming noise, filled with agony and tumult. It gets louder as he chants, and as it grows, so too do two indistinct shapes in the center of the summoning circle. They writhe and tremble, shapes at once frightening and pitiable, carving to his whim at the same time that they fight it with all their might. The flames suddenly surge upwards, bursting to life, and Tooru slams his hands down on the tabletop.

“Would you give it a rest with that?” he says crossly, and the unearthly screeching stops at once. “The neighbors are going to complain again!”

“Why couldn't you just call us normally?” Kageyama asks him. His ghostly form bubbles sulkily, like seething, purplish-blue lava.

“Because,” Tooru says, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “you two never come out when you know you're in trouble, you just make me follow your traces all over the apartment—”

“Are we in trouble?” Hinata asks. He is light made solid, a fizzing sine wave of glinting gold.

“Obviously!” Tooru says, and both ghosts wobble flinchingly. “What on earth are you two trying to do? Do you know how much money I've spent on repair company appraisals that all lead nowhere?”

Honestly, even he isn’t sure what they’re up to. It's not like them—they aren't poltergeists, they're not malicious. For all that Tooru pretends it's a chore having them around, he's constantly surprised by how little he actually does mind. Since the two of them unceremoniously crashed his life as an (extremely) eligible bachelor and practicing psychic, they've been content to just keep each other company and learn how to be better ghosts. Unfortunately, this seems to have included manifesting the ability to haunt his plumbing.

He shakes his head. “This isn't like you two. I'm… frankly, I'm disappointed.”

The candles flicker morosely and the chandelier directly overhead sways in remorse.

“We… we just wanted to help,” Hinata says eventually.

“Help with what?” Tooru asks, blankly.

“You just seemed lonely!”

“He’s gonna get mad…” Kageyama warns.

“I seemed lonely?” Tooru repeats, sputtering. That's preposterous, to say the least. “I'm certainly not. I could never be lonely with you two—” he catches himself just in time, “—with you two constantly pestering me!”

“It's not the same!” Hinata says.

“Trust me, Shouyou-chan—”

“We noticed the way you stare at the repairman,” Kageyama interjects.

Tooru's mouth falls open. He cannot believe he is being set up with his plumber by two dead idiots who still haven't realized they are in love with each other.

“Have you, Tobio-chan?” he replies, with a silken smile. “Recognize the feeling, do you?”

Kageyama must realize the danger he's in, because he stops trying to argue. Tooru drops his smile.

“You two,” he says, “are going to stay in the circle for awhile and think about your actions. Also, there is to be no possessing of any household objects for one whole week, effective immediately.”

Kageyama and Hinata both whine something awful at this, and Tooru crosses his arms and basks in their misery for a few glorious moments. They love racing each other to possess things right before Tooru uses them, but they’ve never try to make anything malfunction before, so he allows it. Hinata's favorite is the teapot, because it tickles when it starts to boil. Kageyama likes the aging washing machine. He's never said why, but Tooru suspects it's because the old thing sounds nearly as grumpy as Kageyama himself does when it really gets going on its spin cycle.

“Keep it up,” he sings, as the candles start to turn an odd shade of green, “and it's gonna be two weeks.”

The whining stops, but Kageyama does throw a “You know we're right,” at him as he leaves them there in the summoning circle. Tooru does not deign to respond.

“How long before we can come out?” Hinata calls after him.

“Until I say you can,” Tooru replies. He ignores their ghostly wailing for the rest of the afternoon, until they have settled down and started to play I, Spy with each other. He refuses to admit that he finds it adorable when they get along, even if it's mostly because they're plotting against him together.

Unfortunately, the plotting does not end there. A few days pass without incident, and Tooru is lulled into a false sense of security. The week comes and goes; Friday arrives in a leisurely fashion. So leisurely, in fact, that Tooru decides to take a luxurious bubble bath to pamper himself. He spends a long time soaking in the tub, and is slightly surprised to see no signs of his two ghosts anywhere—normally, they would get into a game of Bubble Wars while Tooru relaxed, watching the massive orange and blue soap bubbles floating around the bathroom, trying to ram each other to see who would pop first. Today, all is quiet, and so Tooru enjoys a glass of wine in peace.

He finishes his bath and lets the tub drain, wrapping towels around his waist and his wet hair. He will need to blow dry it and make sure it looks appropriately dashing before his evening client appointment, and he’s about to dig the hairdryer out from under the sink when there’s an odd rumbling sound from behind him. He turns, frowning, to look at the toilet.

Naturally, this is the point at which the toilet attempts to murder him.

“WHY?!” he shrieks, devoid of anything else to say in his panic, as twisting tendrils of water burst from the bowl, latching around his arms and legs, dragging him towards it. Try as he might, he can’t break free, and as he is wrenched closer and closer, the entire opening of the toilet seems to yawn, wide—he can see blackness and light swirling in its depths, and he realizes, shit, spirit portal— “Tobio-chan?! Shouyou?!”

The entire bathroom is flooding with water. There’s a horrible, slurping, shloomp-ing sound as Tooru hits the rim of the bowl and starts to get sucked inside of it. He can feel the vacuum of empty space seizing onto him, an unstoppable force.

“You little shits, I’m going to make you corporeal long enough to punch you both in the face—”  

He hears a loud banging from far away, and wonders, what now, but then comes the sound of something splintering, and a moment later a voice bellows, “OIKAWA?”

Tooru gasps. “I-Iwa-chan?!”

He hears someone running, and then Iwaizumi—how is he here, Tooru wonders—bursts onto the scene, framed in the doorway, bearing a stunning resemblance to an angry bull. He takes in the sight before him quickly—the toilet, the spirit portal, Tooru’s hair in a towel cone—and leaps into action. He wades through the flood, reaching out, and Tooru stretches out his hands—Iwaizumi grabs his arms and heaves, and Tooru begins, ever so slowly, to pull free of the portal.

“GRAB ON, STUPID!” Iwaizumi shouts at him, and Tooru throws caution to the winds and flings his arms around his neck, and Iwaizumi seizes him around the waist and yells bloody murder as he leans all the way backwards—and then they’re falling free, onto the bathroom floor, Tooru crushed to Iwaizumi’s extremely firm and noticeably broad chest. There’s a howling, rushing noise, and all the water on the floor recedes whiplash fast, suctioned back into the toilet, which then closes its lid with a sassy and decisive snap.

For a moment, neither Tooru, nor Iwaizumi moves. They just lay there, panting and exhausted. Iwaizumi lets out a slow breath.

“Holy shit,” he says, “your apartment is haunted.”

Tooru sighs. “It’s not haunted. It’s being visited by spirits.”

“That literally is what haunted means,” Iwaizumi points out.

“We’re not visiting, we live here!” Tobio’s ghostly voice shouts in Tooru’s ear.

“I’m evicting you!” Tooru shouts back, incensed.

“Are you talking to the—” Iwaizumi says, before sitting up abruptly, causing Tooru to roll off of him. He hastily readjusts the towel around his waist—he’s lucky it stayed on at all. Iwaizumi swats at the air. “Hey! You fucking ghosts! What the hell is your problem?!”

“They’re trying to get me to—” Tooru pinches his lips shut, irritably. He settles on redirecting the conversation. “Why… how did you know I was in trouble?”

“I didn’t,” Iwaizumi says. “I mean, not until I heard you screaming.”

“Screaming seems like an exaggeration—”

“I thought it was the fire alarm at first,” Iwaizumi says. He is ruthless. Tooru likes it.

“Okay,” he concedes, “but that doesn’t explain why you were here.”

“Ah,” Iwaizumi says, “well… the days have been alternating.” When Tooru continues to look confused, he elaborates. “The first time you called us was on a Monday. Then Thursday of that same week. Then the next week, Friday. Then last week, back to Monday, then Thursday. Now it’s Friday, so I just thought…”

“Of course.” Tooru snaps his fingers in realization. “Spirits can’t tell the flow of time like you or I, so often, they’ll develop certain predictable paths of behavior… you must be sensitive to their ways in order to have seen that!”

Iwaizumi stares at him. “Or… I’m just better at pattern recognition than you are?”

Tooru waves a hand. “Whatever. Second question: did you break my door down?”

Iwaizumi’s expression turns slightly shifty. “Kicked it off its hinges, actually… I can fix it.”

Tooru only wishes he'd been there to witness it. Iwaizumi stands, and Tooru allows himself to be helped to his feet, Iwaizumi’s strong, sturdy arms steadying him after he pulls Tooru off the floor. He notices, then, two fuzzy gazes peering out of the mirror at him, and scowls at them. He can’t decide how angry he is yet. On the one hand, having Iwaizumi come daringly to his rescue is hardly the worst thing that could be happening to him on a Friday afternoon. On the other hand, he’d been stuck inside of a toilet when it had happened; not quite the stuff of romance novels.

Iwaizumi notices him staring, and turns to look curiously at the mirror. “You don’t act like they’re evil.”

“They’re not,” Tooru says, rolling his eyes. “They’re just meddlesome and stupid.”

“Hey!” Hinata yelps.

“Well, you are.”

Iwaizumi’s lips twitch. “So… mind telling me what they were meddling for?”

“Um…” Tooru does mind—but unfortuately, it doesn’t seem as though this is going to stop unless he does something drastic. Like telling Iwaizumi the truth. And so, because he doesn’t want some innocent civilian constantly being pulled into the affairs of ghosts, he says glumly, “They want me to ask you out.”

There. Now, Iwaizumi will reject him, and Kageyama and Hinata will finally get out of his business.

“Well, why don’t you?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Why don’t I what?”

“Why don’t you ask me out?”

Tooru opens his mouth to explain why he’s not going to ask Iwaizumi out, when his synapses finish firing properly. He blinks. “...I thought you’d say no.”

“Okay…” Iwaizumi says, and though his expression is completely serious, Tooru swears his dark eyes are gleaming a bit in amusement. “Why would I say no?”

“Because I’m weird,” Tooru tells him. Is he being made fun of?

Iwaizumi shrugs. “Everyone’s a little weird,” he says. “You talk to ghosts. I get crushes on idiots who can talk to ghosts. While I’m trying to fix their haunted toilet.”

“You—have a—” Tooru splutters. “On—on me?”

“Yeah, so, I may not have been totally honest before?” Iwaizumi confesses. “You did freak my colleague out, but I offered to take the house calls from you… I was pretty curious.”

Tooru gapes at him for a few more seconds, before composing himself. He attempts to sweep his hair back, but just ends up knocking the towel off his head. He acts like this was intentional.

“Well, then,” he says, “I’m glad that’s been resolved.” He turns to address the room at large. “You hear that, you monsters? I told you I’d take care of it, so you can stop being the worst, now.” Oh, my god, Iwaizumi is into him.

“You didn’t take care of jack shit,” Kageyama says.

“Language, Tobio-chan!”

“You swear all the time!”

“What… are their names again?” Iwaizumi asks.

“The stupid one is Shouyou,” Tooru says, ignoring Hinata’s continued protesting. “And the stupider one is Tobio.” Tobio joins in.

Iwaizumi tries unsuccessfully to bite back a grin. “Okay. Well… Shouyou, Tobio, I’m Hajime. It’s, uh—nice to meet you?”

The discarded towel suddenly lifts at the corners, like it’s waving at Iwaizumi. He takes a reflexive step backwards, before laughing, somewhat in shock. He waves back.

It makes Tooru feel terribly fond, which he hates; not just because he's only spoken to Iwaizumi five times so far in his life, but also because Hinata and Kageyama deserve an exorcism, not an introduction. But Tooru thinks he will let it slide, this once.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” he asks Iwaizumi.

“I would…” Iwaizumi says, “but I should probably head home to shower…”

“Stay,” Tooru says lightly, even though his heart is pounding, just a little. “And use mine?”

Iwaizumi grins. “Might as well. I’m pretty familiar with it already.”

This is actually a continuation of a previous ghost!KageHina fic I wrote, which can be read here! And has a sequel here~

[For easy-to-find updates on fic, I have a writing-only blog: @esselle-hq!]

[left-myself-in-the-alleyway]

Forever & Always

Part 3

Warning: Descriptive abuse, panic attack(s) touches lightly on drinking

To anyone who reads this: I wrote this part before I did any research on panic attacks and such so please be kind.

Thanks to @momobucketcomics for editing/co-writing this and making the mood board below.

More thanks to @devotedlybeautifulkingdom- (Tumblr won’t let me tag you!) for showing support for this story.

-

I felt someone rubbing my back. Someone, or something was comforting me, telling me I was safe. In the state I was in, I'm surprised I could hear it at all. I could feel the sweat trickling down my face, leaving a wet, slimy trail. I also felt myself calming down, albeit slowly.

It's okay. It's okay. I kept telling myself, desperately wanting to believe it.

I sat up straight and leaned back, still trying to fill my lungs. I could barely get enough air in them without feeling like I was suffocating.

I heard someone say my name.

"Mmhhmm...?" I mumble, my eyes still shut tight.

"Evelyn, can you please open your eyes?" I hear a voice that sounds like Tony ask, sounding... concerned?

Slowly, I comply to my so-called father's wishes.

I opened my eyes to see a sea of faces staring at me, worried expressions on their faces.

...Last time I checked, there weren't this many people in the room. Damn, I'm seeing double again.

I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. Finally, my head was clear enough to speak normally. "I'm sorry... overreaction." I try to cover up.

"I would like to apologize for asking you that. I didn't know you would react that badly." Thor explained. It was badly worded, but...I knew what he meant.

"It's okay. It's not your fault- I shouldn't have let my mind wander..." The last words drifted off into a mutter- I wonder if he could hear me.

"Do I have a room?" I ask quietly. I don't want to stay here for much longer.

"Yes, I um. Yeah." Tony still looked a bit freaked out about my panic attack. I hope he hasn't bitten off more than he can chew by taking me in...

"I can take her to her room, Tony." Steve offers.

"Thanks, Steve." He replied, walking away.

Steve gave me a smile. "Follow me."

Dragging my feet, I grab my backpack and duffle bag. Panic attacks are exhausting.

As soon as we leave the room, it's just the two of us. The hubbub in the last room seemed to have vanished from existence, as if nothing had happened at all. Huh, guess they have soundproofing here too.

"Are you okay?" He asked as the elevator started to move.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I say, trying to get some form of a smile to form on my face. I hate it when people worry about me- I feel like I'm just a nuisance to them.

"You know, when I first came out of the ice, I had panic attacks. Everything was really overwhelming." He admitted. "I found the best thing I could do was talk to people about what happened. War is an ugly thing. You see a lot of things you wish you hadn't."

"It sounds like...you had a hard time leaving the past in the past and embracing the future" I say quietly as we navigate the halls, a whisper being all I could muster.

"You're pretty smart for someone so young. But that is something that you should remember too. Your past may determine your future, but it doesn't have to rule it." He explains as we come to my door, his pure blue eyes boring into my hazel ones.

"If you ever need anything at all, and you can't find Tony, don't be afraid to come to me for help." He said softly. "Just ask JARVIS to take you to my apartment. It's on this floor."

I scrunch my eyebrows. Apartment? "Everyone here has half a floor, except for myself and Tony. He has a whole floor to himself. I have almost a whole floor, so that's why Tony figured it would be a good idea to put you here." He explained.

My eyes go wide. "That's right, you get a small apartment just for you." He chuckled.

I smiled to myself. Maybe this won't be so bad.

"Remember what I said." He says, walking away.

I walk into my room, exhausted. I let go of my bags, letting them land wherever. It's so clean in here, I feel a slight twinge of guilt for messing up the neatness of everything with my scruffy baggage. I look at the rustic, brown clock. Thank God it’s not some weird futuristic aesthetic design, I hate that kind of stuff . It's 6:00.

That means it's only 3:00 back home.

Home. Somehow, the word feels foreign in my mouth- like a new shoe that'll take getting used to, or... Something.

I look at my messy bags laying haphazardly on the floor. My other luggage must be downstairs, wherever Mr. Hogan put them. I'm too tired to care about anything right now. I've got so much to do, but I can't resist taking a quick nap- Then I'll unpack and check out the rest of the apartment.

I flop down on the couch. Closing my eyes, I still can't believe how much my life could change so much over the course of a few hours.

-

Tony trodded over to the lounge bar, searching for the drink he had left behind earlier. He chugged down the glass of alchohol. Even though it was now room-temperature, he savored it rushing down his throat. Then, without even thinking, he poured himself a glass of the strongest bottle on the shelf- Devil's Springs Vodka. He collapsed on the couch sipping his strong drink.

-

"No, no! Stop it!" I scream at my mother.

She had just returned from wherever it was that she went. Probably the bar, considering her words were extremely slurred. With every step she took, it was heavier than anything- like ten earthquakes simultaneously rocking my world.

She was hitting me, landing blow after blow over and over again. I wish it would stop.

I need it to stop!

I almost got away, but she latched onto my shirt and pulled me back.

"Oh, darling. You're not getting away that easily!" She laughed as she dug her long, inhumanly sharp nails into my arms. I cried out as I felt the skin start to split and bleed.

She shoved me onto the floor. Before I could be relieved at her release, my head caught the corner of the table on my way down. Pain exploded through my head, and I could feel hot blood welling up somewhere on my face. Through my blurry, spotted vision I saw her chug down another bottle of vile-smelling beer.

Then, instead of doing what I hoped she would do, she threw it at me. I screamed as it shattered on the floor, showering me in broken shards. I cried out one last time as I felt the pieces of glass embed themselves in my flesh, burning deeper and deeper inside me. As I struggled to run away, my hands slipped on the floor that was pooling with my blood and tears. It rose ever higher, fueled by my bodily fluids, threatening to flood the entire room. The salty mixture seeped into my fresh wounds, burning them black.

Before I black out, I hear her say something. Her voice was no longer slurred, but crystal clear. It was sick and twisted, familiar and yet of something nightmarish that you'd only hear in the darkest depths of hell.

"Remember, Evelyn; however far you run, no matter how hard you fight back, I will be with you. Forever... and Always." As she growled those last words, everything faded away into darkness.

-

I shot up out of my restless slumber, drenched in cold sweat. My heart was pounding. I quickly pulled up the sleeves of my pullover, thinking I had woken up after being knocked out. There were only fading bruises and scars. Then, I remembered where I was. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I glanced at the clock. I only slept for 45 minutes, and I'd managed to have one of the worst nightmares in history. Oh, jeez.

I started unpacking my measly possessions. Anything to get my mind off That.

Someone had brought the rest of my bags up and put them in my room. I plopped down on the pristine bedsheets, feeling myself sink down into the mattress. It felt much comfier up here than on the couch. Maybe if I'd crashed on an actual bed, I'd have been spared the horrors of that nightmare.

I hung up a few of my tops in the closet. Most of my clothing consisted of long-sleeved sweaters, which I used to wear to school to hide the marks. I also had one sundress and two maxi skirts. They were beautiful, but I couldn't remember the last time I wore them. Standing on my tiptoes, I put a few of my pants and shorts on the shelves. Some of them were messed up, but I threw them in anyway. I was never any good at folding clothes. From there, I head into the bathroom to unpack all of makeup and other... Necessities.

I wonder if there's any dishes in the cupboards. Skipping off to the mini-kitchen, I went to check. Sure enough, there was. There was also food in the fridge! Am I supposed to live by myself, completely? I wonder to myself, checking out the other contents of the various drawers. The countertops were sparkling, and even inside the compartments of the kitchen, not a jar was out of place. Just the way it will stay, clean.

I fiddled with my phone, looking for my favorite playlist. Ah, found it.

Forgettable by Project 46 filled my ears.

I absentmindedly started to hum along to the song- This soon developed into quiet singing.

The song's beautiful and uplifting melody rejuvenated me. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, as I started organizing.

I adjusted a photo of me and my cat, trying to get it just right. I finally get it to sit at the right angle on the little counter beside the kitchen. As I subconsciously sung to the tune of my music, I stepped back to examine the angle of the frame. Suddenly, in between songs, I heard something behind me. It sounded kinda large- maybe mice? Huh, not if the cleaning team can help it. Really Evelyn, this is Stark towers. There won't be mice here. After ridiculing myself a bit more I turn around, thinking I might make some tea. I nearly screamed when I saw a figure in my doorway...

[echoflowertea]

Hi! I have an idea for a prompt! I know I'm a day late, so no rush whatsoever and feel free to take it or not :) It's for a Sans/Readr/Paps. Your sister and her husband have to be away for the weekend or smth and ask you to take care of their baby/toddler (whatever you think fits best for the story). So they take the child to your house where you live with the bros, but then you have to go out for a bit to take baby things, and they are left alone with the kid. They freak out, funny times ensue

here ya go, it’s my birthday so i figured i would give you the gift of a terribly overdue update!!!!

Pairing: Sans/Reader, Papyrus/Reader

Summary: A weekend with your nephew didn’t sound so bad to the skelebros. Maybe they should’ve read more parenting books.

“So you guys really don’t mind?”

“OF COURSE NOT. WE ARE EXCELLENT COMPANY.YOUR PRECIOUS NEPHEW WILL FINALLY KNOW WHAT IT IS LIKE TO BE CARED FORPERFECTLY! WE HAVE PREPARED THE ULTIMATE DAY OF ULTIMATE FUN FOR SUCH ANOCCASION.”

You shot him a halfhearted smile. Papyrus’confidence almost always made you feel better, but you were a little nervousabout this. It wasn’t as if you didn’t trust the brothers, but they could be alittle…eccentric. As far as you knew, neither of them were well-versed incaring for a child, let alone a human one. Both were still vastly impressed anddisgusted with your bodily functions, which you could control, so having anunpredictable toddler around the house for the day seemed like…

“heh, don’t stress yourself so much. we gotthis.”

You observed them. Papyrus had on his childsafety gear prepped, which included taping a lot of pillows to his body so noneof his joints would end up hurting anyone. Because the brothers were…literallyskeletons, they had some parts that jutted out and could poke or stab if youweren’t careful enough. Papyrus would dress himself up in attire that spokevolumes about how gently he was going to treat this kid.

“Awesome. Thanks, guys. I know that this iskind of last minute.”

Your nephew was supposed to come by nextweek, but his mom and dad had some major things come up. Some business tripsgot moved around, some flights cancelled, and you were their last hope. Youdidn’t mind so much, but you were going to run it by your boyfriends first. Thiswas a relationship founded on open and honest communication, after all.

“SO WHEN SHOULD WE EXPECT HIM TO ARRIVE?”

You glanced at the clock. “In a few hours.When they get here, I’ll introduce you.”

Sans grinned and shoved his hands in hispockets, the pinpricks of light in his sockets flaring to life. “we’re gonnahave lots of fun.”

“You’d better not corrupt my nephew, Sans.If he learns a pun from you, I’m breaking up with you.”

“heh heh heh.”

In the short time before your nephew wasdropped off, you and Papyrus perused through the house to make sure everythingdangerous was put away. Anything knee-high was blocked off or sealed up.Papyrus was the one who crawled around on his hands and knees to make sure youdidn’t miss anything, while Sans’ idea of helping was to give half-assed wordsof encouragement from the living room couch.

The doorbell rang and you did your best tobrush the dust bunnies out of your hair before you answered. Sans beat you toit, having shuffled over clad in his signature slippers and that harmless smileon his face.

Your sister looked down at him and inhaledsharply, a little baffled at his presence. She had only ever seen him get upfrom the couch to his seat at the dining table when they stopped by for dinner,so it must’ve been a shock to see him up and about.

“Hi, Sans.”

“heya. c'mon in.”

Your sister paused and glanced over hershoulder. From this angle, you could see a pair of small, chubby hands wrappedaround her leg.

“Sweetie, it’s okay.” She bent down toscoop him up and he clung to her upper half, squeezing tight and burying hisface in the crook of her neck. “Sorry, guys. He just woke up from a nap so he’skind of grumpy.”

“He’s also never seen the new house before.Or met the skelebros,” you ventured. “Sans, Papyrus, this is Moo.”

“MOO?”

The toddler glanced up with shining eyes atthe sound of his name. On top of his head was a spotted, black-and-white capcomplete with floppy ears and tiny horns.

“He likes cows.”

“oh my god.” Sans succeeded in holding inhis laughter.

His mom and dad came in for just a fewminutes. They’d done their best to tell Moo that he would be staying with you,and considering you were his favorite aunt, he was totally cool with that. Butthe two strangers were still a little bit of an unknown for him, so he stuck tohis mom’s side the entire time.

“He should be okay until dinner. I’ve got abunch of spare clothes for him just in case he has an accident, but he shouldtell you when he needs to go.”

“You’re potty-trained, Moo? You’re such abig boy!”

He nodded and took a step away from hismom. The both of you continued to chat while Moo decided to explore the rest ofthe house on his own. His bare feet resting along the hardwood floors, hesquatted down to inspect a pair of shiny sneakers that belonged to none otherthan Papyrus himself.

“HELLO! I SEE YOU’VE SPOTTED MY SHOES!WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRY THEM ON?”

Moo plopped down in response. Papyrus washappy to join him on the floor. Instead of tearing his shoes off, he insteadpulled apart the laces and loosened them up enough for the canvas material tostretch out.

Papyrus tore them off one by one andgrinned. “THERE WE GO, AND HERE YOU ARE. GIVE THEM A TRY.”

Moo looked down at his feet and raised aleg up.

“think he wants you to put ‘em on, bro.”

“OH!!! OF COURSE. HOW SILLY OF ME. HERE YOUARE, KING MOO. THE MOST DELICATE OF SLIPPERS TO ADORN YOUR FEET.”

You had to admit, it was adorable as hell.He and Papyrus seemed to be okay with each other. And although Sans didn’t wantto admit it, he was keeping an eyesocket on both of them to make sure thatnothing happened. If anything, it was more of a precaution for what-ifs ratherthan just him being overprotective. Because, like you said, kids were wildsometimes and could snap at any moment.

Proud of his new shoes, Moo did his best topush himself up and balance despite his feet being wayyy too small inside.Papyrus kept a gentle hand on his back while he flopped on over to his parentsto show them what he’d done.

“Oh, Moo! They look great on you!”

He beamed, proud of his work. “Mama! Apitcher!”

She fished out her phone and snapped one ofhim. He stretched out to grab it before she could even bend down to show him,marveling at the screen and swiping left and right. How kids adapted so quicklyto technology these days was beyond you.

It only took a few more minutes before hisparents left. You kissed your sister on the cheek and saw her off, promisingthat Moo would have a great time with you and the bros.

Well. Unfortunately, it looked like the onething your sister forgot to pack were snacks.

You thought you would be prepared for thiskinda thing. But after rushing to the kitchen once Moo started going on aboutwanting his favorite juice – pear, as it was – you realized that none of whatyou bought earlier in the week was going to suffice. In fact…as you rummagedthrough the empty boxes of cereal stuffed in the cabinets, you realized thatyou were completely cleaned out. What the hell!

“Sans, where are the fruit snacks in theshape of animals?”

“the frooty tooties? ate ‘em.”

“MORE LIKE HE CHEWED THEM UP UNTIL THEYWERE SQUISHY AND THEN USED THEM AS POSTER PUTTY TO HANG HIS NEW BLUEPRINTS UP!”

“Please tell me that’s a lie.”

“that’s a lie.”

“WAIT. HIS STATEMENT IS A LIE. BUT IF HE’SLYING ABOUT LYING, THEN DOES THAT MAKE IT A TRUTH?”

“Papyrus, no.”

“yes.”

“WHO DO I BELIEVE???”

You knew that you had to go out and getsome more age-appropriate snacks. Papyrus’ bone-shaped crackers were not goingto be a good combo for a kid who would’ve shoved as many as he could’ve downhis throat. That and the recipe was specifically made for making sure that theskeletons were calcified all to hell, which might’ve been a little weird tofeed a human child. Who knew what kind of repercussions would come out of that.

“Moo, follow me for a sec, okay?” You tookhim by the hoof – err, hand – and led him to the living room. He was alreadybouncing and looked restless. You had no clue when his last meal or snack was,but you weren’t ready to deal with the aftermath just yet.

It was kind of a crappy thing to do, butyou needed some time to talk to the boys in private. So you flicked on the TVand let him busy himself with the mindless chatter of some educationalcartoons.

“Okay, guys. We need a game plan.”

“EXCELLENT. I’LL GRAB MY JOURNAL. ONEMOMENT!” Papyrus rushed out of the room.

Every week Papyrus would pick his best mealfrom an array of dishes he cooked over the week, take about a day to create aphotorealistic painting of it, and then put it on the wall to cover a wall safefull of his most precious treasures. The safe was your idea, so that the dogsnooping around wouldn’t get into his figurines any more. Sans was the one whosuggested switching out the cover so people wouldn’t get suspicious. Why thatseemed logical, you would never know.

After snatching the book, Papyrus returnedto the kitchen for your huddle. He was focused, pen in his gloved hand,eyesockets narrowed, ready to strike the page with copious notes andillustrations.

“whaddid you wanna talk about, babe?”

“Moo needs snacks, since you so graciouslydecided to relieve him of those.”

“yer welcome.”

You sniffed. “Anyways, I need you guys torun to the store and pick him up some stuff. I’ll keep an eye on him here whileyou’re gone.”

“OF COURSE. BRILLIANT. I WOULD EXPECTNOTHING LESS FROM MY OTHER HALF.” Papyrus dotted his i’s and crossed his t’s,his careful penmanship a marvel even from all the way where you stood. “I, FORONE, AM GLAD TO EXPLORE THE BELLY OF THE BEAST OTHERWISE KNOWN AS SOOPERSAVERS!THEY EVEN HAVE THEIR OWN SPICE AISLE. HOW EXCITING.”

“sure, we’ll get in and out in under twentyminutes.” Sans winked.

That mischievous look on his face wasenough to put a wrench in your plans. “Okay, wait a second. I think I decidedtoo fast. Papyrus, we can’t trust Sans to go with anyone to the store. Rememberlast time? He locked you in the freezer for an hour.”

Papyrus gasped. “OH, NO. I HAD ALMOSTFORGOTTEN THOSE TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE MEMORIES!!! THE LOOK OF ABSOLUTE CONTEMPT ONTHE CARTOON COWS’ FACES AS I RESTED AMONG THE DAIRY. THEY SILENTLY JUDGED MYBONE DENSITY AND TEMPTED ME WITH WHISPERS OF CALCIUM INFUSED DRINKS!!!”

Sans kept his downright devilish grin,causing a sweat to bead on his brother’s forehead.

“DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, SANS.”

“well, you n’ me could go.” Sans swunghimself up on the kitchen counter. You weren’t sure how he managed to do thatgiven he was short as hell, but it was best not to question him and his casualabuse of physics. “my bro could stay here with the kid, and you’d make sure iwas on my best behavior.”

“HMM, TRUE. THOUGH THAT WOULD LEAVE ME ATQUITE THE DISADVANTAGE, AS MOST OF MY ACTIVITIES REQUIRE THREE PEOPLE! WE ARETRYING TO MAKE A GOOD FIRST IMPRESSION ON MOO, SANS.”

“That and we would never get anythingdone.” You left it at that. You weren’t going to sit there and give him thesatisfaction of mentioning what happened on June 15th. You still hada scar in the shape of a bite mark that refused to go away, no thanks to him.

“WELL, WE COULD LEAVE SANS HERE ALONE ANDDO THE SHOPPING BY OURSELVES.”

You and Papyrus exchanged looks, then burstout laughing. Yeah, right. The entire house would be in shambles by the timeyou got back.

“hey, i resent that…you’re completelyright.”

You snorted. “Okay, so that’s one moreoption down. I guess this leaves one solution. Papyrus, Sans….are you two okayto stay here and watch Moo by yourselves for about an hour?”

Papyrus was quick to agree. Sans shruggedit off.

“WITH MY FAMILIARITY OF THE HOUSE, I WILL HAVENO TROUBLE DEFENDING MYSELF FROM SANS’ PRANKS. AND WE WILL SURELY BE ABLE TOCOMPLETE AT LEAST THREE PUZZLES WITH ALL OF US PARTICIPATING.”

“you gonna be ok buying groceries byyourself, babe?”

“I should be good. I’m more concerned aboutyou guys. But if you’re sure you can handle it, then I would really, reallyappreciate it.”

They both perked up. Any mention of yourapproval sent a pleasant shiver through their bones. Mostly because they lovedyou so much that making you happy was probably one of the only goals theyshared in life. (That and making sure they never missed an episode of the showall of you adored: Tales of the Aboveground, where monsters from all overshared their experiences of living on the surface.)

“THEN IT’S SETTLED. GOODBYE! WE WILL SEEYOU IN A BIT!”

“Hey, wait—”

You barely had a chance to get another wordout before you were shoved outside the front door, your bag magicallypositioned on your shoulder and keys around your fingers. You wanted to givethem some last minute advice, but the absolute Determination on their facesspoke volumes about their commitment to this. They would get through themorning without you and they weren’t going to take no for an answer.

Papyrus made sure to lock the door with aquick flick of his wrist, turning the small button on the knob despite yourprotests from outside. He sniffled.

“NYOO HOO HOO. I HATE TO LEAVE HER ON OURDOORSTEP. BUT WE HAVE TO BE STRONG.”

“it’s ok.”

“YOU’RE RIGHT. MOO NEEDS US.” Papyrus stoodto his full height and narrowed his eyes. “NOW…WHERE IS HE?”

Both paled.

“SANS ARE YOU TELLING ME WE ARE THIRTY-FIVESECONDS INTO OUR DEBUT AS BABYSITTERS AND WE HAVE LOST THE CHILD???”

“relax, bro. he’s gotta be somewhere in thehouse.”

Both went silent for any clues. Aside fromthe gentle trickling of water upstairs, it was relatively peaceful.

Wait…

Trickling water?!

“THE BATHROOM! SANS!!!”

“what about it?”

“HE’S IN THERE! STOP TRYING TO DISTRACT ME!LET’S GO!!!”

Papyrus put his gloved hand on the railingand propelled himself upward the long flight of stairs, Sans trailing behind.

The closer they got to the top, the louderthe noises became. Splashing and giggles. There were a million things thatcould’ve gone wrong when they opened the door, ninety-nine percent of which youwould probably dump them for. And they weren’t going to let that happen.  

“MOO? ARE YOU IN THERE? I WOULD LIKE TOCOME IN AND JOIN YOU!”

Papyrus jiggled the doorknob.

Locked.

“aw, shit.”

“SANS! WHAT DO WE DO?! WE HAVE NO ACCESS TOHIM! HE COULD BE DOING TERRIBLE THINGS IN THERE!”

“relax, bro. we made sure to turn off thewater for the tub. we put on the special seat for the toilet, and all themedications are locked up. there’s nothin’ he could do from his height.”

At that perfect moment, both brotherslooked down to see their feet sinking into a puddle of water creeping out fromunder the door.

Sans started to sweat.

“WELL, LOOKS LIKE THIS IS A JOB FOR MYIMMEASURABLE STRENGTH. STAND BACK, SANS!”

Papyrus readied himself at the door. Thesheer power of his love for you would surely get him through.

“ONE….” He would be a hero!

“TWO…” You would be so impressed with histoddler caring skills!

“THREE!”

He went for a running start and the dooropened.

“GGAAAAAAKKK!”

He dug his heels into the floor and bracedhimself for impact, doing his very best to stop his body from launching intothe room. All he could see was a hundred scenarios that ended up in someonebeing injured, from a minor scrape to complete and utter annihilation. Maybe hewas spending too much time with Undyne after all. His mind was getting to befar more dramatic than he would’ve liked for such a delicate situation.

As he poured his last ounce of strengthinto stopping dead in his tracks, the tip of his shoe caught on the rug Sansinsisted that they place right outside the bathroom. The gross, musty one hepicked up from a garage sale because he thought it was “a bargain”. Yeah, a bigpile of disgustingness and a cheesy line! What kind of pun was, “make some roomfor dessert”???

Papyrus teetered forwards and went crashingdown onto the floor. It didn’t hurt, but it was unpleasant to feel the stifftufts of the rug’s fabric scraping against his bones. Dazed, he lifted his headjust high enough to see the damage.

Moo had somehow tipped the trashcan overand stood up high enough for him to reach over to the sink. He had taken giantwads of toilet paper, coated them in water and soap, and then slapped the mushymass all over the bathroom. On Papyrus self-portrait made of dry pasta. Onthe cute little figurines that you swore brought life to the place. And even onSans’ joke book that had at least fifty unsanitary references!

With his consciousness fading and lastmortified look, Moo took the toilet brush and brought it up to his mouth tosniff it.

Sans knew that his brother would be okay,but it was still hilarious to see him faint like that. He mostly did it when heoverloaded on sensory things, which happened more often when Papyrus didn’thave his gloves on. But today it might’ve just been a combination of all newthings plus the pretty disgusting state the bathroom was in.

Sans couldn’t be prouder of the little guy.Already destroying the grossest room in the entire house. Man, humans werefascinating already with their digestive systems, but all the tools and suchused to help keep things civilized was enough to make him crack up. Seeing alittle kid completely oblivious toward all of that and dismantling the entirepolite system they had going on was amazing.

“kid, i think we’re gonna get along.”

He stuck his hand out, and was promptlygiven a slimy wad of tissue covered in snot.

“oh, man. that’s disgusting. i love it.”

Papyrus stirred from his unscheduled nap.He felt a little groggy, but the anxiety from before he passed out lingeredlong enough for him to snap back to reality. He sat up and rubbed at hiseyesockets.

“SANS? MOO? ARE YOU BOTH HERE?”

The whole bathroom was in disarray. Papyruscouldn’t bear to look! He reached for the door handle and made sure he didn’thave to subject his eyes to any more torture.

Papyrus happened to glance down at hischest while he pulled himself up from the floor. Pinned to his chest, along thepillow armor that had been fitted on him somehow, was a simple note.

countto ten, then see if you can find us

“I AM NOT PLAYING THIS GAME!” he shouted. “OH,WAIT. THERE IS ANOTHER MESSAGE WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF THE PAPER.” He turned itover.

yougotta. if you’re still not convinced, flip me over again

“WHAT!!!” Papyrus did as he was told.

wait,how does this paper have three sides? anyway, if you don’t do it i’ll trashyour room. love, your bro

“I HATE THIS!!!!” And, against his betterjudgment… “ONE, TWO, THREE…”

After ten agonizing seconds, Papyrus madehis way downstairs. He found a trail of flour leading to the backdoor, at leastfive toys strewn across the floor, some plastic utensils wedged between thecouch cushions, and the phone was off the hook with someone shouting on theother line.

“HELLO?” Papyrus scrambled for the phone,managing to wrestle it up to his face despite the long retro cord being tangledup in knots. “YOU HAVE REACHED THE HOME OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HIS EQUALLY GREATLADY, AND ONE LAZY BROTHER, HOW CAN I ASSIST YOU?”

“Paps? It’s me. Is everything okay?”

His breath caught in his throat. Somehow. “AH!!!YES, EVERYTHING IS GOING GREAT!” He started to sweat. “HOW IS THE STORE? HAVEYOU FOUND PRODUCTS AT REASONABLE AND UNBEATABLE PRICES?”

“I think so. I’m in line right now, butthere’s only one cashier and he looked like a new hire. He’s paging the emptystore for someone to do a price check on Mettamuffins. Oh my god. Now he’spanicking.”

“THIS STORY IS INCREDIBLY INTERESTING ANDDOWNRIGHT SCANDALOUS, BUT I HAVE SOME…THINGS…TO ATTEND TO.”

“Hmm. Are you sure you’re doing okay?”

He nearly cracked, but didn’t. “OF COURSEWE AM! I MEAN, OF COURSE I ARE! I WILL JUST HAVE TO MAKE SURE I CLEAN UP SOMEOF OUR…ACTIVITIES! GOOD LUCK ON CHECKING OUT YOUR ITEMS! SMOOCH!!!”

He hung up and heard a quiet snicker in theroom.

“SANS, I KNOW YOU’RE IN HERE. THIS CHILD’SPRESENCE HAS MADE YOU EVEN MORE…CHILDISH!!! PLEASE COME OUT OF HIDING, SHE ISCOMING BACK SOON AS WE NEED TO FIX THIS PLACE UP!”

No answer.

Papyrus crossed his arms and thought deeplyon where his brother would be hiding. His favorite spot to snooze in as of latewas the closet near the front door. But it didn’t look like that side of thehouse had been touched just yet. Sans also liked to roll under the couch andsleep under the comfortable weight of the cushions, but when he did that, healmost always managed to kick one slipper off. No sign of that.

As he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a smalldroplet of liquid splashed against the top of his skull.

“…SANS!!!”

“heh heh. ya got me.”

Papyrus looked up and put his hands on hiships. Sans had somehow crawled up to the corner of the ceiling and was wedgedup there.

“WHERE IS MOO?”

“around here. told him to hide.”

“WE NEED TO BE WATCHING HIM!”

Sans slipped down the length of the wallwithout batting an eye. “ok, ok. i told him to hide in my room. let’s check itout.”

The trek toward the brothers’ bedrooms waslong and arduous, filled with slick spots of melting sticks of butter and granola.A gross combination, and Papyrus wasn’t even sure how he managed to get accessto more food. So much for locking everything up. But despite the harsh terrain,both brothers persisted until they reached Sans’ safe haven.

“hey, bro. what’re you doing? knock first.”

“THERE IS NO TIME FOR FORMALITIES. MOO, IAM COMING IN!”

The stench was unbearable. Dirty clotheslying haphazardly on the floor. A lampshade on the floor. Cloudy test tubesstacked on top of each other. Crumpled bedsheets, pillows stained with coffeeand tea, a plate caked with mysterious gray mold. The entire place looked likeit had seen the wrath of a certain three-year-old.

“everythin’ looks normal to me.”

“OH MY GOD. THE SMELL IS EVEN WORSE THAN ITWAS THIS MORNING!”

“oh yeah. i forgot to put this back in thefridge.” Sans picked up a cup of milk that already started to bubble in the smoldering,stuffy summer heat. “was gonna see if i could ferment this, but figured it’d bebetter to start another day.”

“DO YOU SEE HIM?”

“nope. call him.”

“MOOOOOOO!”

Sans’ eyesockets crinkled. “bro, are youpart cow?”

“NO.”

“because that impression was moo-ving.”

“STOP THIS.”

Then they heard it. A gasp. It was faint,but it was there.

“IS THAT…THE ATTIC???”

How did one child manage to maneuver aroundso easily? Humans were so tenacious! Neither of them could imagine raising oneof their own if they were all like this!

“MOOOOOO!”

“moooo.”

It was dark. How did he even navigate? Whenyou moved in with the brothers, there was so much extra stuff that it was allshoved up here. You and Sans promised to sort through it, but every time youwere both up here at the same time, you ended up just making a giant mess andleaving it worse off than when you came.

Papyrus nearly tripped over a giant chestfull of early courting gifts from him. You said they needed to be kept in asafe place, and that they were priceless, so they had to be stored away. Hebelieved you wholeheartedly, because you had wrapped them up in the softestblankets to shield them from dust and time. That and he caught you sneaking uphere sometimes just to admire them.

“bro, did you hear that?”

“HEAR WHAT?”

Sans froze. His eyesockets went dark.

“we’ve been cornered.”

Jumping out from the shadows, fingerssplayed and mouth opened wide, was Moo.

“Raaaah!”

Both of the brothers were surprised, butdid their best not to laugh. A tiny human in a cow costume roaring at them likea dinosaur was…probably the best thing they’d seen in weeks. It didn’t helpthat Moo charged toward them, bending down on all fours, the tiny tail sewn onhis backside flapping with every bounce toward them.

“PLEASE DON’T HURT US!” Papyrus cried.

But it was too late. Moo had conquered themboth, crawling on top of their toppled bodies and declaring himself as thewinner with a loud, long roar.

“alright, kiddo. let’s get you backdownstairs.” Sans plucked him off his chest and tucked him under an arm. “yougave us a big scare.”

“YOU COULD HAVE HURT YOURSELF…” Papyrusbegan. But after seeing the near teary look in Moo’s eyes, he recanted. “YOUWERE VERY BRAVE TO COME UP HERE BY YOURSELF. BUT NEXT TIME YOU SHOULD PLAY NEARUS, OKAY? WE WANT TO SEE MOO THE DINOSAUR UP CLOSE!”

All three of them headed back to the livingroom where Moo’s giant bag still sat untouched.

“I HAVE A COLORING BOOK I THINK YOU WOULDLIKE.”

“Crayons, please!”

“nice job, kid. use yer manners and you’llget far.”

“I SHOULD WASH HIS CLOTHING IN A FEW HOURS.HE LOOKS STICKY. OR IS THAT NORMAL FOR HIS AGE?”

Everything was okay after that. Some minorincidents – like Moo breaking a crayon and then throwing a tantrum despitebeing given the exact same color to use instead. The brothers had to muster up alltheir patience to deal with his screams and flailing limbs, but they managed toget him to stop wailing after a while.

In the end, the house was completelytrashed, but everyone was safe and sound.

You parked the car in the driveway andrummaged through the bag, grabbing a piece of candy to shove in your mouth. Ugh.What was supposed to be a quick trip to the store ended up being the biggestnightmare of your life. Long lines, rude customers, unorganized shelves, aclown blocking your nearest exit until you donated to his law school fund, andeven a broken traffic light that resulted in a twenty-minute detour through afuneral motorcade.

Needless to say, you were relieved to behome.

After gathering everything in your arms,you headed to the door. A smarter person would’ve called the brothers to letthem know that you were here, but you were so exhausted that the thought nevereven crossed your mind.

Knock. Knock.

“who’s there?”

“Sans.”

“sans who?”

“Sans, please let me in, my arms are goingnumb!”

“i don’t get it.”

“PERHAPS THE HUMOR LIES IN THE REALISM.”

“oh, ok.”

You heard him unlatch the door and youpractically burst in. “Someone please help me get these to the kitchen!”

Papyrus did more than that. He simplyscooped you up, bags and all, so that you were no longer crumbling under theircrushing weight. You were relieved to receive help, but gosh, it did bring a littlecolor to your cheeks when he easily carted you around like that.

He set you down in the middle of thekitchen. Without hesitation, you made your way into the fridge and startedshoving all sorts of snacks inside.

“So? How did it go, guys?”

Sans grinned. “eh, so boring.”

“What, really?”

“IT WAS…NEW.”

You peered over the fridge door. “I don’tknow if I like the sound of that. Where’s Moo?”

“NAPPING ON THE COUCH.”

“Wait, you guys actually got him to sleep?”

“he was kinda giving us a run for ourmoney, so it’s nice he decided to help us out with that.”

“Oh, no. Was he a handful?”

“heh. you decide.”

You blinked and stepped away from yourlittle comfort zone, only to fully drink in how destroyed the house was.

Yeah, it looked like a toddler had beenthrough here, all right. Everyone’s possessions poked and prodded. Annoying Dogeven had a balloon strapped to its tail, trying its best to run away from it asit hovered menacingly over its back. The walls had some minor scribbles hereand there, the carpet had splotches of (what you hoped was washable) paint,there were scraps of paper and a pair of kid scissors scattered along thefloor, and even Moo’s stuffed cow was completely soaked.

“Do I want to know?”

“not really.”

“WE HAD FUN, THOUGH.”

You sighed, relieved, and smiled at them.Your chest even felt a little tight. Ew, you were about to get sappy on them.Sugar overload.

“Thanks, guys. I’m really glad.”

“NOW YOU CAN HELP US WATCH OVER MOO FOR THEREST OF THE DAY!”

“yep.” Munch. “might as well include you onthe fun. ‘sides, you haven’t even seen how he pronounced the word ‘fantastic’.”Swallow.

“…why would he even say that in the firstplace?” you ventured. “Wait, never mind. The point is. You two were a hugehelp. I couldn’t have done this without you, and…I’m really looking forward tothe rest of Moo’s visit if I have both of you here with me.”

Papyrus’ eyesockets sparkled. Sans wasembarrassed, but shot you a cheesy grin anyway.

“Alright, when he wakes up, I’ll make him asnack plate. Sans, can you stop eating for a sec and hand me the FrootyTooties?”

“uh…whoops.”