#like maybe its unfair of me to not want my mom to play this game but like. i am tired. i have things i want to do.

[audliminal]

The ironic cycle of me repeatedly being pissed at my brother for introducing our mother to ark

[bazaarwords]

in spite of war [6/? | griddlehark | post-canon]

more suffering—enjoy!

first | prev

🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

We got to the next planet, which was the opposite of the last one.

By that I mean it was the nicest place I’d ever been.

It had water, like the First, stretching out further than I could see. I squinted, hand over my eyes, trying to make out anything at all in that blue nothingness. The water just churned, glinting in the light of two yellow stars, hung high in the sky. There was black sand and strange curved trees with huge, wide leaves. 

Along that sand: cushy chairs, squat houses made of bark and wood, and the friendliest people I’d ever met. They thanked us and thanked us for our work, told us to please sit! Rest! Enjoy our home! 

This all in opposition to my mood, which was terrible and bad, made me feel even worse. If such a thing were possible (it was.)

The cherry on top? Ianthe wanted to talk to me.

She was wearing a sun hat, which looked so fucking stupid I was this close to laughing. If I had felt any better I would have been reduced to hysterics. I would have rolled around in the sand and I would have howled. This thought in its simplicity made me realize how much I missed laughing. That thought made me feel worse. (See? I said it was possible.)

But when she came sauntering over, I just stared at her, arms crossed over my empty chest. I wanted to look intimidating, but if she was, she’d never show it. It was a stupid game of chicken we played, and neither of us was good at it.

I was sitting in one of the chairs, and the height difference didn’t really help my intimidation tactic.

“You look incredibly stupid, Kiriona, you know that?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but since you mentioned it… I guess we match. One of us has to go change.”

She sneered, which made her uglier. No, that’s unfair. She wasn’t ugly. She was horrible.

“I’ve no interest in prolonging a conversation with you, so I’ll get to the point—”

“Thank god—”

“You’ve done something to Harrow.”

The beach was so, so beautiful. I was a fraction of an inch from decorating it with Ianthe’s intestines. I could put her head on the flat rock closest to the water… maybe rip her hair out and stick it in the sand like sea grass… I could be the kind of landscaper any Ninth House nun with cataracts would adore.

She continued: “She’s gone bare-faced the past three days. I hate looking at her like that. And if I were a betting woman, I’d wager it has something to do with you.”

I could make designs on the backs of the cushy chairs with her teeth and nails. Maybe stick her eyes to the back of my head for a laugh.

“Well?” She pressed. I thought maybe if I pressed hard enough I could extrude all of her organs.

“How about you fuck off and die?”

She rolled her eyes. “Your comebacks were never good and somehow they’ve gotten worse.”

“How about this one: your mom.”

That lifted my mood. A your mom joke. Understated and yet? Elegant. Simple. I felt like a fucking comedian.

I saw the shift in Ianthe’s shitty tutti-frutti eyes before I could brace myself for it. I knew the kind of bitch she could be. The zero to a hundred she could pull at the drop of a hat.

“I get the impression that you’ve hurt her. Perhaps irreparably.”

Cool as I might have imagined myself being, I couldn’t contain it. I leapt and I swung.

She dodged me like I was a child. Looked at me like I was smaller still. I advanced on her, and she walked backwards like she had less-funny eyes in the back of her head.

“Seems like the gray matter’s rotted away like the rest of you. You can’t answer a simple question.”

“I have dreamed of killing you thousands of times—“

“And yet you can’t, can you?” She stopped, feet in the surf, and let me get right up in her face. 

There was no one around. I could have tried. I knew I was stronger. I could have drowned her, I could have ripped her head off. They just would have been inconveniences. It might have been fun to do, but it wouldn’t have meant anything.

My rage flew around in my chest like a caged animal. I’d sewn it up. It had nowhere to go.

“She’s done with you and yet you still manage to upset her like this. I think it’s because you have the kind of grating demeanor not even a mother could love.”

I wasn’t breathing. I mean, I didn’t need to, but I thought if I had I would have exploded. Which, honestly? Would have been the best thing I could have done. At least gore in her hair and on her white clothes might have annoyed her more than an attempt on her life.

“You know you have the nastiest laugh I’ve ever heard? Sounds like you trapped a rat in your throat.”

I didn’t get a reaction, which was lame. Ianthe just looked me up and down like I was a rotten piece of meat. I guess I was.

“It was pity, hm? That’s what it was.” She mused after a pregnant pause. “Like a lame dog. You’re pathetic.”

We stared at each other—a stupid faceoff no one could win. I think she must have gotten bored, because she breezed by me, making sure to elbow me with that goddamn arm you made her.

You never made me anything, I thought.

You made me suffer, I guess. Made me feel the way I did.

I went back to my chair, stumbling through the sand. On it, made of leaves from the weird trees, was a visor. I picked it up and realized that it had been fastened together with knuckle bones.

Pity, I thought. I’m pitiful.

I slipped the thing on my head. It wasn’t well-made, but it kept most of the light out of my eyes when I sat and watched the waves roll by.

My eyes smarted, and I couldn’t even blame it on the suns.

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: April 13th, 2021

And we’re back again with more replies so soon, haha. Thank you for the asks!

Your game literally saved me this hell ass year. Thank you so much for the most perfect piece of art I've ever laid eyes on 😫 ... Do you guys have a rough idea when step 3 DLC will be released? I hope I'm not coming off as rude. I just really really love your game.

I’m sorry for the late reply on this! You might’ve already seen the answer by now, but the Step 3 DLC is coming out on the 16th. We’re almost there :D

This may be a silly question but did Jeremy's parents ever find out that Pran had lied about his age and if so, when/how? :3

Pran came clean to them after a couple of years, when he felt secure enough that it wouldn’t ruin the relationship. The Kings were a little embarrassed, the dad more than the mom, but they’re quite good at brushing past those kind of mistakes so it was all water under the bridge pretty fast.

hi! i know you’ve answered a question about alterations in the our life moments by playing them in different orders, but i was wondering if there was a canon order that the moments for each step happen in? i figure with such a customizable game the “canon” timeline for the moments is whatever order the player completes them in, for example in step 1, i like playing the runaway moment pretty early, since cove trying to run away early in summer makes more sense to me personally. thanks!

Yeah, there’s no canon order we’d insist on. Whatever you like can be the official route for you! And that’s a neat way to look at that event.

What if your character isn’t that into physical contact but still wants to be in a relationship with Cove? Would he be offended if you shy away or something along those lines?

He wouldn’t be. Cove knows how hard that can be and is very understanding. If you set his initiative to low, the game always checks to make sure if you want to be touched or not rather than assuming that you do. And if you do choose that you don’t want to, there’s no stress or drama about it. Cove will just say that’s okay!

Hellu! First off, I want to thank you all for such a wonderful game, it's been the best feel-good game I've ever stumbled upon and I can't express enough how much it has meant to me. Second, I've seen lots of people having trouble with making Cove confess before MC which makes me wonder if people will have the same problem in the dlc when you can propose to him. Is it possible to post a guide for that as well when it no longer could count as a spoiler? Again, thanks for such a beautiful game <3

I’m really happy you had such a nice time with it c:. We’ll answer questions about it on tumblr/in the discord if they come up and, if need be, we’ll find somewhere to upload a guide.

Do we get steam key from buying dlc on itch io?

I’m afraid not. That’d be unfair to those who get it on Steam. Plus, Steam isn’t super cool with giving out thousands of keys to be handed out for free on other sites anymore. They can refuse to give us the keys if they feel we’re trying to take advantage of their system.

hi! so if we reject cove's confession in step 3, can we still have MC and cove get together in step 4?

You can confess to him, yeah. But Cove won’t ever try confessing again if the MC turns him down in Step 3.

What if MC acts like someone Cove doesn't like, like Lizzie or Baxter lol

You can’t do what Lizzie or Baxter does to make Cove dislike them. You can play the game and try, but it doesn’t work out. The MC is just too compatible with Cove if you’re fond/crush/love, haha.

Hi! I absolutely love your game, I love the characters they’re all so amazing, thank you for the game haha

I was wondering if you would get the NSFW DLC no matter what Patreon level you were at, or if you would could get it at any level? :)

&

What pateron tier do we need to get the 18+ content for Our Life? It's my new favourite game, keep up the good work!

It will eventually be available at the $5 tier and anything above that! Glad you both like OL ^^

On a scale from 1 (being the worst) to 10, how well do the XOXO jerk squad including JB handle horror?

JB: 8

Everett: 5

Nate: 4

Shiloh: 10

Bae: 10

Jeremy: 8 for non-gore horror, 2 for gory horror

Pran: 9

hello!! i was wondering if any of the boys from the Jerksquad would ever wear a skirt/dress?

None of them wear skirts/dresses out of personal preference. But if there was some kind of reason where they had to do it, none would be that bothered.

How does the jerk squad feel about Christmas? 

Everett: He fucking loves it. That’s the best time of year.

Nate: Commercialized nonsense.

Shiloh: It’s wonderful! So he claims.

Bae: He likes it quite a bit, but only for the joy it brings children/family. He thinks that’s sweet but is too mature to be whipped up into a festive fervor himself.

Jeremy: It’s awful.

Pran: He hates it.

does cove have any pet allergies? yes I know this is a little weirdly specific

He doesn’t! The lucky boy isn’t allergic to any animal.

Very important question: Would Lee and a musical-theatre loving MC run around belting Into The Unknown from Frozen 2? Because I feel that they would 

Probably, haha.

This might seem like a dumb question, so I’m sorry, but with the Derek DLC are we gonna get to hang out with him in person instead of just calling him in step 3? 

The Derek DLC adds events in Step 2 and Step 4. It’s part of his story that you don’t really get to be around him in Step 3. But you don’t need to apologize for wondering!

hello! i'd like to ask if it's possible to play the android version of the game with the dlcs after buying the dlcs from steam. i wasn't expecting my android version to have my dlcs since i bought them from steam, but it had my step 2 dlc for some reason. is this a glitch or does the apk actually detect what dlcs you already have on your pc? if so, how come i don't have the step 1 dlc appearing on android? thanks!

That is some kind of glitch. It isn’t possible for the Android DLCs to be unlocked by having them on PC. Maybe in one of the old builds we accidentally didn’t lock the Step 2 DLC properly. Sorry for the confusion!

Does Derek and Baxter have canon sexualities? Will Derek still flirts with the MC regardless of their gender?

They’re both pansexual and can like the MC regardless of what gender they have.

I was wondering if Miranda had a crush on Cove in Step 3? I'm not sure why, but I got those vibes from her?

She thinks of him only as a friend. Cove isn’t her type, haha.

This is probably a dumb hope, but I hope Cliff find someone he loves after Cove is grown up and everything. Or at the very least he has someone he's very close with after Cove leaves. 

That’s a really sweet thought to have. Cliff stays single, but he’s graysexual and not-particularly romantically inclined. He only dated when he was really young ‘cause that’s what everyone did. Family and friend relationships are more important to him, and he has plenty of that in his life ^^.

Heya! I was curious if there might be a nickname system in N&F? I kind of pull an Elizabeth when I play and choose a different variation of a name like having Rosie in step one and changing it to Rose in step two, then maybe Rosetta in step three for example, but it also feels a little bit odd being scolded using my nickname hehe. That's all I was wondering about, thank you for your time and the wonderful games!

We are hoping to include the option to go by a nickname in Our Life: Now & Forever. But nothing has been programmed yet, so we can’t 100% guarantee it, haha.

Just curious, what would Liz's and Cove's relationship be if MC wasn't around? I feel like they wouldn't get along as well as they do now, especially during the first and second step 

They’d definitely have a lot of friction growing up and they’d likely avoid each other as much as possible. Once they were both older, I imagine they’d be decent neighbor acquaintances. But they still wouldn’t be nearly as close as they are with the MC bringing Cove into things.

What do the customizable eyes look like in the game? Do they look as they are in the creating avatar section? Or do they look different when actually playing the game?

That’s up to you! The doll is just meant to be a general idea. You can apply it to your imagined MC as much or as little as you prefer.

Did Cove go through a "phase" during his adolescence? I don't really wanna headcanon it so I wonder if there's anything (cringy) canon since we missed out on the ages of 14-17 hahaha

Not really, aha. 14-17 Cove is pretty recognizable to his 13 and 18 year old self.

Hello! I'm sorry to bother you, especially with all the messages you get. I was just wondering if the religious wedding venue was exclusive to a church or if there will be different religions of weddings? Also, I love this VN so much, it's so well written and every character is so amazing, thank you for making such a beautiful game.

The church is treated as a historic building rather than anything actively religious, but it’s not the only option like that. There’s a historic synagogue and stuff too! And that’s really nice of you to say <3.

How differently would it play out If MC told their moms about the 20$ deal back when it happened? 

They wouldn’t have been happy and would’ve been far more skeptical of Cliff, aha. But they wouldn’t want to keep Cove away from the MC, so it wouldn’t have been too different in the long run.  

Hello may I ask what Cove's favorite fudge/ice cream flavor would be? Its alright if its not answered 

He appreciates them all, but his top favorites would be the fruit flavored ones and the ones with nuts.

Hi! I really wanted to make mc's house in a game and tried really hard to figure out the floor plan, but I wondered if you have the floor plan of the mc's house so that i can try again with more accuracy?

Thank you a lot for this game, i loved it a lot! (my first play took me 8 hours lol)

I’m really sorry, we don’t have anything like that. But at least you can headcanon that what you did is correct and nothing can prove it wrong, haha.

Hello,I recently started playing lake of voices (I put it off for a long while since I’m usually not very good with horror) and I’m really happy I did!I’m a big fan of your games in general and lake of voices was absolutely great as well.I loved the characters and the dark setting of it,I adored the beautiful art and music and the story was great too,sometimes unsettling and sometimes very sweet.My favorite Route in the game was definitely Lu,I liked his character and was really shocked and distraught by his Route at least two times.I didn’t see the plot twist(s) coming at all!

Besides these ramblings I’ve also wanted to ask if you still remember how to get the lower two CGs on page 5?I seem to always miss them and would appreciate any help.Anyways I hope I wasn’t too much of a bother and I wish the devs a great day!:)

Thank you for all the kind words <3. You get those DLCs by going through the end of the Guide’s character path. You can use the guides on Steam to help you find it/reach the end!

—– —– —– —–

Thank you again for all of these questions :D

We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

[moxfirefly]

Okay okay okay I have something. You are so good at writing tmnt so here it goes. What about... Make up sex? ;) I imagine how there has been a huge fight with their girl. So much so that the turtles thought it would lead to breakup. But the SO returns and it ultimately leads to some angsty action. Of course you can imagine it however you want too! Make up your own reasons if need be!!

As somebody who breathes angst this is truly fun. You didn’t specify a turt lad so I hope you don’t mind me choosing and going from there. Just cause I’m intrigued ima go with my orange boi.

TW: Angst/Feels/Arguments

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

His hands hurt so much. When you ball your fists for too long the tendons tend to protest, the digging of nails into palms stings.

Mikey doesn’t like how loud his head feels right now. He sits against the wall closest to his tv, your scent is surrounding him and it only serves to make him more frustrated and gutted. The two of you have never gone past discussion into full blow arguing. He doesn’t like to fight with you, he does enough fighting on a nightly bases anyways.

But you got stubborn and he got selfish. Voices got raised, things were said and each one got hurt. He knows he can’t keep you glued to his shell forever, he’s had to learn the hard way, that there’s a life above that you inhabit and people around he’ll never truly meet. He knows every detail about your home life, knows your mother’s maiden name, how your aunt likes to get drunk at the family reunions and spill gossip. He knows your childhood home’s street name, the first guy you kissed, the first girl you kissed. Every aspect of your life you have told him in confidence, in laughter, in tears.

But Mikey is never gonna be part of it. He can’t really meet your dad and have that ‘if you break her heart I’ll break your legs’ talk. He won’t bond with your mom over their mutual love of cooking and secretly become her confidant. Knowing all these people but never truly knowing them is something he accepts.

It’s you leaving for three months back home. Three months away from him, three months where you’ll be surrounded by nostalgia you miss and love. Where your family will ask about ‘any boyfriends?’ and you’ll have to fake laugh your way through it. Three months of you being amongst people you constantly miss.

Surrounded by normalcy.

And Mikey wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to say fuck it and face time you every morning and night, watch you be happy to be in your hometown and maybe even get a virtual tour of it...

But that little dark part in his brain calls him a freak and reminds him constantly that you’ll get tired of surrounding yourself in craziness, monsters, end of the world scenarios etc. It just can’t seem to allow him to be happy for you. So the entire thing had ended in a fight, where dumb regretful things had been spat and you had marched off pissed and he had remained here equally pissed.

His brothers think he doesn’t get mad, they think he holds himself together through sheer ignorant bliss but it’s never been the case. Cause you’ve seen fire in his pretty blue eyes, you’ve seen those same very pretty blue eyes turn red with tear, you’ve seen so much of what he hides behind his laughter.

And fuck, three months of you away?!

Mikey pushes his knees up against his chest and sighs. His phone hasn’t made a noise despite his efforts to try and call you after he has calmed down. He debated going to your house and apologizing or at least going for a more calmer approach in expressing why this had left him so triggered. He wants to make sure this hasn’t pushed you both to your end, another nagging little thought that hasn’t quite shut its mouth.

Had this been the end? Had you walked out in a fury of frustration and decided this is it? Would you seize all communication and just erase the memories of him and your time together?

He’s hurting himself, he’s also getting angrier. This is stupid, he’s been stupid and immature and so are you for walking off!

It’s two hours before he decides to get up and toss his phone and try to consume his surrounding in order to relax. Mind over matter and all it’s wonderful bullshit. He doesn’t want to leave his room cause he knows the others must’ve heard.

He’s four hours deep into a shooting game when Raph pokes his head in with some food. He doesn’t look up, cause he knows Raph wants to be a good big brother and talk to him but he doesn’t want to when he’s one unfortunate mishandling away from crying. He lets him sit with him, watch him play and run a little bit of commentary that actually makes him smile just a teeny bit.

Even when Raph gets up and runs a large mitt over his head and tells him ‘broads are just emotional, she’ll come around’ he tries his best to not let his eyes betray him. Even when Raph gives the top of his head a kiss and pats his shell, he tries his best to keep it together.

It’s around 4am when he decides to look for his phone, chucked somewhere near his bed and maybe not broken. He finds it under his bed, screen a little cracked and one text message reading ‘r u awake?’ By you, it was sent twenty minutes ago and somewhere between debating calling or texting he hears the curtain in his room move.

You’re there.

Face two parts unreadable and a good topping of frustrated. Your face is bare, a mixture of sleepwear and winter clothing that clearly shows you had tried to sleep it off but couldn’t. “I just saw this... sorry” Mikey wonders if that sorry is related to the unread text or more so this mess. You look away, the energy around you can be felt. That upset way you bite the inside of your lip, how you cross your arms and run through every possible way of starting your side of things to say.

“Why are you really mad about me going back home?” You can’t meet his gaze and Mikey is thankful because he feels an oncoming headache. “I dunno man...” He sets his phone on his makeshift night table and runs his hands through his face, mask being taken off with the motion.

“That’s not an answer, you’re mad about something and I want to know” This time you do look and Mikey’s playing with the shoe string on one of the sneakers that hangs from the bunk bed. He chooses to stay quiet because if he does say something, what are the chances that you’ll understand?

“Mike, talk to me” He huffs a bitter laugh, ‘Mike’ is the he’s in trouble name. But he feels more obstinate than ever because why talk?

He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet. “I didn’t come back in the freezing cold to actually work through this if you aren’t going to throw me a bone at least-” Your tone is a mix of exasperation and sadness. “You go back and you forget about me” Mikey cuts through.

You furrow your brows at his statement. “What?” You take a few steps but he side steps you and that somehow cuts you. “You go back home and you realize it’s better to be in a normal environment that isn’t New York, in the sewers, with me-“ He motions to all of him. “And all the crazy shit we do” He glares, not necessarily at you but more so at all of this, the current state of affairs.

Running a frustrated hand through your hair you try to settle your thoughts. “You can’t jump to a conclusion like that and you know it, I’m not skulking off back home and ghosting you! And frankly it fucking hurts you think of me like that” You reach for him because Mikey can’t be still for five seconds if his life depended on it, but he grabs your hands and refuses to let you lull him with your touch. “It’s not a conclusion it’s a friggin possibility! Do you see us actually being endgame in all this shit!” He grips your wrists, you want to get through to him but he’s lost in that terrible negative mindset.

“We both aren’t mind readers! But trust me that leaving you is nowhere on my list of achievements” You manage out of his grip and grasp his face. “You are being unfair and stubborn as fuck but I love you okay?” Your voice sounds almost angry, angry at the very idea of living in a world where you and him don’t coexist together.

“I can’t even marry you! I can’t even knock you up!” Another bitter laugh escapes him, he knows your parents would die for some grandkids. Why is he so different, why does he have to be so fucking different he wonders bitterly.

“I don’t care, I don’t fucking care about a piece of paper or screaming babies, I care about you and I want you and I’m fucking happy with you stop sabotaging it” You press your hands to his hard plastron and scowl. “Stop lying to me then! Don’t pity lie at me when I know you want all that shit” He frowns, eyes watery and not caring if he wakes everybody up in the Lair.

Mikey’s ready for the rant of a life time but then you have to go and kiss him.

Kiss him hard, kiss him with rage bubbling on the skin of your lips. He can taste your words, taste every way you would’ve shut down his words with basic truth and facts. You pull away, forehead still pressed to his and you mutter against his lips. “You’re so fucking insufferable, shut up and listen to me” Your eyes are watery as is, hands at his neck to keep him at eye level.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much” You take a shuttering inhale, fingers skimming up towards his cheeks. Mikey can only watch you, take in every detail he’s been obsessed with for so long. You’re so beautiful to him, even when your angry crying, yelling at him to open his eyes. You’re warm and real in front of him, against his body. You watch his eyes go from that calm before the storm into the aftermath.

He’s so real to you, so lovely and he doesn’t seem to understand it.

There’s a pause. A mere ten second reprieve where only silence and breathing remain. Mikey feels your hands slowly slide down his body, nails scratching his sides. You keep your eyes on him, a hand slides into his shorts, index finger mapping out the slit that encompasses his most intimate part. Mikey shudders, sensitivity racking his body at your touch. He walks you up against a wall, a hand on your neck and another finding it’s way into your own pants.

He teases you, just as you tease him. Knees buckle when he pushes your lips apart and feels your moistening folds. There’s already a bump where your touching him and the way he’s tensing gives way to how he’s trying to hold himself in. “Come on, come on” You weren’t aware just how hard you’ve been breathing till you speak. Mikey’s mouths falls open, eyes closing as he drops down into your warm awaiting hand. You stroke him, teasing the flesh of his head just to make him buck and recapture your lips. His own finger finds its way in you, stretching and making your breath hitch.

The only reason you both pull away is to tear at one another’s clothes, an easy accomplishment when Mikey’s got just his shorts. He isn’t soft with your clothing either, yanking and nearly tearing, his on his knees pulling off your underwear. Your scent hits him and he’s gone, trapped in all that is you. He inhales sharply as he gets back on his feet, arms hooking under your thighs as he picks you up.

You both land on the bed, a huff escaping you and a grunt when Mikey feels you push him so you can straddle him. You don’t quite finesse this, it’s not your usual seductive ways that leave him a mess. It’s rough, there’s still frustration lingering in the air and Mikey’s okay with it because he knows he might go to rough if he runs the show.

So you do.

Sinking down on his hard cock with a long guttural moan. Mikey digs his fingers onto the plush skin of your bottom, just enough to make you sit on his cock and relish it. Eyes closed he just basks, the tightness, the wetness, the warmth. His eyes flutter open when he feels your palms on his plastron, firm and with purpose. His hands know already, they go up and rest on your waist and he swallows a churr when your hips begin to move fast and hard.

That rhythmic slapping of flesh, your rear hitting his lap on each thrust down. Mikey can’t stop churring, eyes on your own or slipping down to your beautiful breasts bouncing. You notice and lean forward, he buries his face between him, arm going around your waist as he lifts his hips to help you cross that line. The sweat of your skin is on the top of his tongue as he sucks a bruise onto your breast, you’re tightening up so much, cussing and begging for him.

You both can’t stop moaning, once you’re cummin and Mikey follows closely behind. He holds you close to him as you ride out the sensations, tightly secured against his strong body, held and loved. You’re a broken record of ‘I love you’s and so is he, filling you up and up.

Collapsed on top of him, chest heaving, you still feel the strength in his arms as he hugs you to him. You bury your face on his neck, body shaking with sobs as he whispers he’s sorry over and over as he kisses your shoulder, neck and head.

You say it too, against his skin.

Where you wish you could stay everyday.

[neitherlightnordark]

KRIS - LVL 1 PIROUETTING PRANKMASTER

RALSEI - LVL 1 ENCASTLED STARCASTER

SUSIE - LVL 1 HAIRTOUSLED HAMFISTER

> HANGOUT START?

> HANGOUT START!!!

“It took us a long time for us to get this far,” Ralsei said solemnly, folding his paws in front of his face. The single source of light hanging in the room silhouetted him eerily, Susie thought, making the situation that much more extremely tense and dramatic.

“But unfortunately,” Ralsei continued, sliding his final rook along with a slice of shadow, “I think tonight you must finally admit defeat, hero of Light.” He arched his paws. “For- for I, Ralsei, mage of stars-!”

Kris clapped their hands with delight, breaking the tension. Susie groaned into her palm, hiding her smile.

“Have defeated you.” Ralsei gently tapped Kris’ king, causing it to fall over. “Checkmate, atheist.” (Susie had told him to say that.) “Um, is that how you do it?”

“You’re supposed to wait until Kris gives in and says checkmate themself, then knock their king over.” Susie delicately righted the king. “Because what if there’s some move Kris could do that you missed?”

“But I made sure there wasn’t!” Ralsei hunched his shoulders until only his eyes remained underneath his floppy hat. “I mean- sorry, Kris.”

Kris did an It’s fine sort of shrug. They reached out and flicked their king, toppling it over themself.

“Woo! Game over.” Susie pumped her fists into the air, beaming. “That was a great match! Are you up for a Grade-A THRASHING now, Ralsei?”

“M-maybe later?” Ralsei gently patted his king. “I’m a little chess-fatigued at this point.”

Susie shrugged and reached out to flick the torches on, revealing that the three were in a Card Castle room, emptied out and populated with hangout supplies specifically for this purpose. “’s cool, we can do something else. What DO you wanna do?”

“Just- just chill with you guys?” Ralsei pulled his scarf into his mouth and looked away. “If... that’s okay! But if it’s not-”

“Are you KIDDING?” Susie flung herself into the nearest pile of pillows, disappearing underneath its great might. “There we go!” She popped out and cracked her knuckles individually. “Perfect ‘just chilling’ pose! Right, Kris?”

Kris, with a perfectly monotone expression, gave her a thumbs-down, hopped into the pile as well, and reappeared on top with a pose worthy of Rouxls Kaard.

“Well, that’s just unfair,” said Susie.

“Alright!” Ralsei hopped onto the pile as well, reappearing somewhere above Susie and below Kris. “W-well, we’ve done step one, which is: Place oneself in a soft and comfy place!"

Kris said they didn’t know there were steps and Ralsei sparkled a little. “O-of course there are steps, Kris! I can show you later! Anyway, step two is: Capitalize upon promises made in the past.” He took a deep breath, fluffing up his paws. “Susie?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you like me to braid your hair?”

Susie mentally ascended. “Yeah. Sure. Yeah. I mean, if it’s not an issue. You don’t have to. Yes.”

“Step two worked!” Ralsei quite literally sparkled this time, sliding down the pillow heap to prop himself up against Susie. “I brought- I brought ribbons, and garlands, and bows...”

“It doesn’t hafta be fancy.” Susie reached out to catch Kris as they slid down as well. “Just, like, pretty. You can do that.”

“Alrighty!" Ralsei deployed an assortment of combs and ribbons and scraps of cloth from the group inventory.

“Hmm.” Susie leaned in to whisper something to Kris, who grinned and whispered back. “...Ralsei?”

“Yes?”

“After you’re done, can I braid yours too?”

Ralsei stammered for several seconds. “I- I don’t really- um- I would love- I don’t have hair, Susie! I’m, I’m sorry...”

“Your fur, dude.”

Ralsei flushed pink. “Well- alright, Susie, if you’d like that-" He began puttering about Susie’s hair.

Kris stole Susie’s phone (it was unfortunately impossible for Susie to retaliate at the moment) and asked her what her password was.

“I’m not telling you my password.” Susie huffed, attempting to snatch it back. “Just gimme it.”

Kris tossed it back, and after some finagling back and forth, they finally had a WiFi hotspot set up in the Dark World.

“Step three is: Settle into the monotonous activity of being loved.” Ralsei twisted Susie’s hair up into a bun. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Sounds real poetic,” Susie said as Kris opened up some nature documentary for them to watch. “Kris. Kris, we aren’t watching this, what the hell.”

Kris huffed and said that nature documentaries were the only rated G thing available on Susie’s online video platform app. The fact that this was literally the wording they used gave Susie chills.

“Look-” Susie tapped some words onto the screen. “See? See, we can watch- what cartoon do you want, I’ve got a playlist of their episodes.”

Kris stared at the screen for a moment, and then asked if they were pirated.

“What? No- no, dumbass, of course they aren’t pirated, those are official channels!” Susie pointed a claw at Kris. “Are you telling me you’ve never watched cartoons on YouTube before?”

Kris pulled their cape in front of their face.

“Okay, sorry, but how have you never-! Does your mom not allow those or something?"

Kris muttered from behind the cape that their mother had an unplugged TV in their home.

Susie stared for a moment, and then put a talon on their head to comfort them (Kris made an appreciative noise). “Wait- Ralsei?”

“Yes?” Ralsei asked from where he’d been trying to pin a stray lock of hair down for several minutes.

“Ralsei... you don’t know what a TV is, do you?”

“No.”

“A cartoon?”

“No." Ralsei frowned. “Can you just explain it to me, then?”

“Okay-" Susie snatched her phone back. “Yeah. Hang on just a moment."

She had a brief memory of someone else in her class gasping and pulling out her own phone and showing Susie her favorite videos. And then they’d sat there in silence, watching aliens of light dance and vampires play guitar...

“Here."

Kris clambered up above Susie’s shoulder and propped themself next to Ralsei to watch, and the rest of the night was spent gasping at plot twists and laughing quietly and pointing out characters they liked and doing step three.

[abluescarfonwaston]

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Here, my dear, is the sum of the fic as it exists in its 9k glory. Fun fact Edgeworth's pov is 11k so far. Omegaverse au - Wrightworth. Currently Teen and Up rating.

“Why do you two insist on doing that?”

“Cause it’s fun!” Larry laughed above him, rolling off of him and onto the playgrounds woodchips when he pushed him.

Miles slid off the jungle gym he’d been observing them from. Offered his hand to help him up.

He took it and let him pull him up. “It is! You should try it!”

“No thank you.” Miles swept his hands over Phoenix’s shirt, dislodging some of the dirt. Not that it made a huge difference. It was just a t-shirt after all.

“Come on Edgey!” Larry wrapped an arm around his neck, leaning heavily on him. “I’ll even go easy on you if you want! Or are you just scared you’ll mess up your fancy clothes?”

His cheeks flushed red as he stammered out a protest, picking a chip from Larry’s hair. “I just don’t see the point of rolling in the dirt!”

Larry laughed. Crowed like a chicken, grinning as Miles face grew hotter and hotter. He never knew if Miles would cry or get angry. He wasn’t sure if Miles knew either right until the moment the emotion burst from him.

So he did what any reasonable nine year old would do: tackled Larry to the ground. “You’re upsetting him!” Larry just laughed as they twisted and wrestled, having achieved exactly what he wanted.

Larry pinned him again- it was unfair how much better at this Larry was. He wiggled and tried to dislodge him but Larry remained firmly atop his stomach, grinning.

He sighed and dropped his head back. Another loss to Larry Butz. Miles was staring at him from his playground perch. A goofy smile started on his face.

Miles tilted his head just a hair smiled, one of his tiny rare smiles, right back.

It didn’t feel quite so much like losing then.

“First!” Larry posed his hands on hips and puffed out his chest. “We’re going to build a pillow fort!”

Miles held the remote, not turning the television on yet but clearly posed to if Larry responded poorly. “Why?”

“Because I have it on good authority this movie’s real scary!” Half his mouth pulled upward in pride at his secret knowledge. He jabbed a finger at Phoenix. “And we don’t want the scaredy cat making us go home early!”

“Hey!”

Miles set the remote carefully down on the table and nodded. “Alright. What do we do?”

At Larry’s direction, they made one. It was remarkably well made and comfortable inside. They laid on the carpeted floor on top of a blanket and pillows and peered up at the screen from under the fabric canopy.

Larry and him yelped and jumped back into the fort. Clinging to each other. Listening to the clashing of swords and tense music.

Miles stayed. Eye’s trained on the screen.

He inched forward. Larry clung to him, eyes squeezed tight. He didn’t move far enough to see the screen. "Are they winning?” He whispered weakly.

Miles face was tense but unwavering. “No.” He did not look away. He squeezed the pillow tighter against his chest. “They’re not.”

He reached out and took one of Miles clenched hands in his. It was shaking. He squeezed it. “Not yet.”

Miles squeezed back. “Not yet.”

Miles was more than happy to outline the entire fight in dramatic hand motion for them once the movie was over.

“Bedtime boys.”

“Okay Mom!”

Larry climbed out of the fort and stretched his arms up into the air. He followed after.

Miles didn’t follow them out. “Can we sleep in here tonight?”

“You scared Edgey?” Larry grinned sleepily.

“No.” It wasn’t the sharp no that really meant yeah. It was just a no. “It’s just. Nice.” His cheeks flushed.

“We could drag one of the futons in and sleep on that!” He proposed.

“Yeah.” Larry yawned. “Okay.”

It was way too small for the three of them. Mostly cause Larry spread out like a starfish and took up half the bed.

Miles curled up on the opposite side, his back pressed into the couch. Rubbed his cheek against the soft fleece blanket.

Phoenix flopped down next to him, sharing the same un-Larry filled third. “I don’t want Larry to kick me again.” He explained, hoping Miles wasn’t annoyed at how close they were. Their hands were almost touching.

He just made a happy noise and sank heavy into the pillow.

It was nice in here.

The first boom of thunder had him jumping out of his skin.

The second and he was running back into the building.

He did not like Thunder. Hated how loud it was and how it rumbled and it – it – it.

It was scary.

“Phoenix!” His wrist was trapped in Miles firm grip. Yanking him to a halt. “Where are you going?”

He couldn’t swallow the yelp at the next boom or the way his shoulders drew up to his ears while he desperately covered them.

He held his breath. Unable to breath in or out.

Miles tugged him forward. Pulled him down onto one of the library’s bean bag chairs shoved into the corner of the kids section.

He pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his hands tighter against his skull.

The chair shifted as Miles curled up next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

“Um. We can wait here until it stops. I don’t think my umbrella would work right now anyway.”

He nodded into his knees and tried to hide the tears that were escaping.

“Do you…” The fabric of Miles jacket shifted over his arm. “Want a hug?”

He nodded. An arm wrapped around his back and squeezed his shoulder.

He twisted and buried his face in Miles shoulder. Clinging to the soft cotton of his buttoned shirt. Trying to swallow the sobs.

He really didn’t like thunderstorms.

Miles hands slowly came up and held him. Cradling him to his chest.

He choked on a wobbly inhale and cuddled in tighter.

“Do you want me to read something?” One hand disappeared and the zipper of his bag sounded.

“S-sure.”

Miles read quietly to him, chin hooked over his shoulder. The soft cadence of his voice easing the mountain of tension from his shoulders. He snuffled trying to keep his nose from running. Miles just handed him a tissue without pausing.

His nose honked loudly when he blew it and that did make Miles pause to glare at him. He just smiled sheepishly in return.

He didn’t need to stay in Miles lap. He should probably get up and move next to him. But he didn’t want to. And Miles didn’t ask him to. Hummed warmly when he tucked his head back into his shoulder.

“You smell nice.” He nuzzled against the collar of his shirt and the bowtie there.

He did. He couldn’t put his finger on what he smelled like but it felt the same way blankets pulled warm from a dryer did. Warm. Comforting. Soothing.

The pounding rain and even the occasional boom of thunder was muted by that gentle warmth wrapped around him

He didn’t even notice when he drifted off to sleep.

Not until a librarian was shaking them awake a while later, worry and amusement lining the soft lines her face.

“Mmghn.” He moved the horsy again. “Can we do something else?”

“Like what?” Miles moved the castle.

Rain beat against the window. Rattling it. He moved a pawn. What a waste of their day off. Trapped inside by a storm.

He bet Larry was having fun. Or maybe he was just trapped in a hotel room with the rest of his family.

He flopped back on the bed. He heard the pieces rattle. Miles made an annoyed sound so some of them must have fallen. “I don’t know.”

He grumbled and picked the board up. Set it on his desk. “You didn’t have a better idea!”

“I didn’t think chess would be boring! You made it sound fun!”

“It is fun.”

He put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. It didn’t seem that fun to him. “We could play signal samurai?”

“Without Larry?”

He had a point.

“Your Game Boy?”

“The batteries are just as dead as the last time you asked.” He crossed his arms and frowned at the window. “And we’re not going out for replacements in this.”

“Courthouse?”

“Still a person short. Who would we defend?”

“Uh… Rescue?”

Miles shook his head. “All our games are for three people.”

He sat up. “I don’t see you suggesting anything!”

“I suggested chess but you don’t want to play that!”

“… Then if I suggest a two person game you’ll try it? Even if you don’t think you’ll like it? Cause I tried chess!” He pointed out.

Miles narrowed his eyes. “… Fine.”

He grinned and jumped to the edge of the bed. “Great! Then we’re wrestling!”

“What?! No!”

“You said you’d try it!”

“But- But…” His eyes flickered around the room. To the floor. “We’ll get hurt on the wood.”

“We’ll play on the bed!”

“We’ll hit the wall! Fall!”

He looked back at it. “We can put cushions up!” Miles stared down at the floor. Sour expression. “Come on! You promised you’d try.”

That got him a glare. “I didn’t promise.” The scowl deepened. “Fine.”

He’d stalked out of the room before he realized Miles had agreed.

He dashed after him.

Miles pulled the cushions off the couch and some spare blankets from a closet. Shoved them into his hands and grabbed some more.

Miles frowned when they reentered the room. Climbed up on the bed and shoved the cushions between the wall. Took the blankets and bunched them out on the edges of the bed. Shoved the pillows against the headboard. Sat in the center of the bed considering it.

“Good enough?”

His scowl deepened but he didn’t rearrange anything.

“Good enough!” He decided, tackling Miles.

It got him a yelp. Miles wiggled in his grip and they twisted and rolled on the bed until he let Miles pin him.

He grinned up. Miles sat on his heels and huffed. “There. I win?”

Miles hair was all rumpled and out of place. He was always so careful about his appearance. It was nice to see him rumpled.

His smile just got bigger. “Sure. You win.” Nodded. “Round one.”

He lunged upward and flipped Miles onto his back.

Miles blinked up at him. He pressed down on his shoulders waiting for Miles to try and throw him off.

Miles stared at him. Reached up and-

Rearranged his hair. Carded through his spikes.

“Your hair got messed up.”

That wasn’t how this game was supposed to go.

But…

He leaned into the motion. A purr starting.

He drifted so far into the motion he fell over. Off to the side.

Miles propped himself on his elbow. Staring at him.

“Does that mean I win again?”

“I pinned you!”

He stifled a yawn. “Tie game then?”

“Okay.” He looked at the spare blankets on the side and the raised sides the couch cushions made. “Wanna build a fort?”

Miles eyes lit up almost like they did when he talked about law.

He dragged one of the blankets up and shoved one end behind the cushion, making a little triangle tent. Larry would have made something better. He knew how to make the best pillow forts.

Miles eyes shone. He stared up at the fuzzy ceiling. Reached up and pet the fleece. His chest didn’t rumble but it stuttered a quite purr.

Miles liked it. He did good.

His chest swelled with happy. His purr making him unsteady with its unintentional volume.

Miles was staring at him and his face was heating up but it wouldn’t stop. He covered his face with his hands.

“Do you… want to read?”

He nodded. Listened to Miles shuffle out. Come back with a stack of books. He grabbed one off the top and buried his face in it.

Miles scooted next to him. Shoulder to shoulder. Opened up a large tome.

A few chapters later there was a heavy weight on his shoulder. Miles. Sleeping. Small contented noises escaping.

He rested his cheek on the crown of his head. Miles smelled nice.

He closed his eyes to the sound of beating rain and Miles soft breathing.

Blinked blearily awake to Mr. Edgeworth’s soft chuckling. “Time to eat boys.”

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and they climbed out together.

And then Miles was gone.

He showed Larry the heart shaped necklace. Recounted the entire tale with waving hands and hearts in his eyes. They were Soulmates. Maybe even True mates. Fairy tale or not - he just landed in one.

“Sounds like one hella cute omega.” Larry grinned up at him.

“Hey!” He smacked his shoulder. “I didn’t say she was an omega!”

Larry snorted and rolled onto his back. Stinking up his bed with his stupid alpha scent. “You alwaysfall for omegas Nicky.”

“No I don’t!”

“Yeah you do! Your nose is just too shit to realize!”

He growled. “My nose is not shit!”

Larry sat up. Pointed at him. “Twenty bucks says she’s an omega just like every other chick you’ve had a crush on.”

“Hey you can’t prove that!”

He started listing off names. His face heated.

Pointed his objection. “Racheal wasn’t an omega!”

“Dude. Bro. My man.” Larry clapped his shoulder. Eyes pitying. “She totally was. She just used a shit ton of blockers. An omega gives you the time of day and you’re done. You’ve always been like that.”

“Oh yeah?” He was three seconds from yanking him to the floor for a tousle on the rug.

“Yeah. Even before we presented. I mean, Lucy, Lucia, Matilda, Samantha-”

“Stop!” He shoved his face into his knees and covered his ears. “Lucy transferred! That one’s not even fair!”

He laughed that annoying Larry laugh. “She was totally going to present as an omega dude!”

“You can’t just assume!”

“It was so obvious though. She was an omega, we were going to be alphas. It was practically carved into grade school stone.”

“You can’t tell until someone presents. You’re not a doctor Larry.” You weren’t even a high school grad.

“PFT. You know for someone so smart you’re really dumb sometimes.” Larry kicked his leg. “You don’t present out of nowhere. Those instincts are always there. You’re just too dumb to look.”

“I’m not dumb!”

“Twenty bucks your girlfriends an omega!”

“You’re on!”

He smacked the twenty into Larry’s waiting hand. “Shut up.” He growled. “It’s not like you’re any better.”

He smirked. Waving the bill and shaking his head. “Unlike you, my hearts not so fickle as to limit itself to omegas. Any beautiful lady can steal my heart!”

Yeah that sure seems true. You tried to date every girl in our high school class.

“Why I’ll have you know Clary is an Alpha! She pinned me last week and I’ve never been more in love!” His eyes filled with tears. “We’re gonna be together forever!”

“Sure Larry. Sure.”

“You swallowed glass?”

He curled into his bed and pillow. There were still whiffs of her left.

She’d tried to kill him. She said she hated him.

Why do you think she’s actually been dating you all this time?

“Shut up Larry.”

“You wanna fight? I mean you have to be pissed right?”

He pressed the pillow harder to his face.

“… Yeah alright.” The bed creaked and Warmth pressed into his back as Larry laid down behind him. “Glad you didn’t die bro. I always knew that omega was shit.”

“Did you?”

Come on Wright. It’s obvious she’s just using you. You were just the perfect rube.

An arm wrapped around his waist. Larry’s head pressed against the back of his neck.

“… Nah man. She always seemed really nice.”

By the time Edgeworth joined them for the celebratory party Larry was already several drinks ahead of everyone else. Edgeworth eyed him worriedly.

“Come on.” He slid his beer over to Edgeworth and aimed for a reassuring smile. “You’re a free man now. You could stand to relax and enjoy it a little.”

He slowly reached out and took the drink. Cheeks still flush from the December air outside. “Right.”

He grinned and it felt very silly in his cheeks. That only made him grin more. Scooting closer to him at the bar. “That’s my name!”

Edgeworth’s sharp eyes glared at him over the rim of the glass. “How many have you had Wright?”

He drifted closer. Elbow supporting him on the bar as he gazed upward at Miles. At his eyes that liked to hide behind his bangs. One of the ceiling lamps haloed his hair and made it shine. “Not that many.”

Miles didn’t pull away. Didn’t shove him away. Just stared right back. Like a painting. The amber liquid held in his hand. Maybe he could pull out those old paintbrushes and capture the image forever.

“Edgey!” Larry’s arms wrapped around Miles neck. Yanking him slightly off kilter. The beer sloshed in his glass. “There you are! We’ve been waiting for you!”

A tiny rumble of annoyance escaped the prosecutor. He shoved Larry slightly, elbowing him. “That’s a blatant lie.”

“Haha yeah. But you know I saved you yesterday so I think you owe me!”

“I think you’re more than adequately intoxicated.”

“I’m fine!” He whined, nuzzling against the increasingly irate Miles. “No fair Edgey, help a brother out!”

“You’re more than capable of making a spectacle of yourself without my help Larry.”

Larry stopped rubbing his face against Miles suit jacket, brow drawn together in a brief moment of something. Which was good because he knew firsthand how irritating that felt. Stupid facial hair. He was half tempted to yank Larry off him just for the sake of keeping the peace.

He reached over to do exactly that. “He said no Larry, come on.” He really needed to learn boundaries. Like don’t touch Miles.

He wanted to growl it.

Larry tightened his grip and hooked his chin over Miles shoulder. Eyes unfocused and staring at the bar wall.

“Yeah yeah fine. You can repay me by drive me home then.”

Miles shoulders drew up. “If you think I’m letting you into my car-“

Larry whispered right into his ear. Over the drone of the bar he couldn’t make it out.

His shoulders tensed impossibly tighter. His face turned further away. Considering Larry. The soft pink flush of his cheeks draining away.

The glass connected harshly with the bar and he stood. Larry sticking like a leach to his back. “Fine.”

“Wha” He stood just as suddenly. Reaching out to grab his sleeve. “But you just got here!” His hand wrapping around Mile’s wrist. “Just call him a cab!”

Miles stared at the point of connection. His hand wrapped around his wrist. For one heartbeat.

Two.

Three.

“Edgey…”

He pulled his wrist free. Rubbing it with his free hand. He hadn’t been holding it that tightly. He didn’t look at Phoenix. “He’ll just get into more trouble if we do that. Excuse us.” He bowed slightly, which seemed difficult to do with Larry the leach and turned. Walked out of the bar.

He took the discarded drink back and grumbled. It wasn’t fair of Larry to kidnap Miles like that.

He paused halfway through an irritated sip to wonder when Edgeworth had become Miles again.

He couldn’t find his suit jacket before he biked after Maya. It was probably just hidden somewhere under the piles of cans and take out containers strewn about the office. He was in a rush. He didn’t have time to look.

It was weirder that it didn’t show up after he’d finished cleaning.

… Well hopefully he wouldn’t need to go to court until it turned up. He didn’t need to add a new jacket to his expenses.

It showed up a week later in the arms of a faux apologetic Larry.

He snatched it back. “I was THIS close to buying a new one Larry! Of course it was you. It’s always you!”

“Hey man that hurts! And I swear it was for a good cause!”

“Oh yeah? And what was that?”

Larry looked away. Rubbed the back of his head. “Uhhh. To help out a friend.” Sure Larry.

“Which friend?’

His eyes stayed trained on the wall. Sweat starting. “You don’t know em.” He lied. Like a liar.

“And how did my jacket help them?”

“That’s not important.”

He growled. “Larry…”

“Anyway! It’s been dry cleaned so you’re not even allowed to get mad! It’s totally fine!”

“I should be getting mad!?” What the hell did you do to my suit jacket?!

“NO!”

He tackled him. Pinning him to the ground. “Larry-”

Was pinned to the ground a moment later. Larry’s weight distributed so efficiently he could hardly wiggle. Arms held firmly to the floor above him.

“Why are you still so much better at this than me?!” He demanded trying to break free.

He grinned that stupid guileless grin. “I win. So now you have to forgive me!”

“Tell me what I’m forgiving you for!”

“Taking your jacket. Obviously.”

“WHY!?” He crunched. Arms lifting an inch off the ground. Larry’s balance shifted slightly and-

He was pinned back to the ground.

“Nuh uh. Losers don’t get to make demands.” Shook his head. “It was for a good cause Nicky. I swear. Your sacrifice really helped out a friend in need.”

“…” He let the tension drain from his arms. “You’re not lying to me?”

Larry let his wrists go and leaned back on his heels. Crossed his heart with his hands. “Edgey boy levels of honesty.” He smiled. Sleeves slipping over his hands. “Besides I smelled that thing when I took it. You should be thanking me. I’m the reason it finally got cleaned!”

He lunged upward for round two.

Every time Ema and him entered Edgeworth’s office he felt a little more trapped. On edge. Desperate. Like he needed to do something. Fight someone. Not Edgeworth. Never Edgeworth. But someone.

Edgeworth he wanted to pin to the ground. Squish into the pink sofa until all the pain left him. Until he was asleep and content in his arms. Until things were all right again.

This case just kept getting worse and worse for him.

“Mr. Wright…” They waited for the elevator. She worried a shape into the pad of her notebook. “Is Mr. Edgeworth going to be alright?”

A letter of resignation.

“His office. It just smelled so…”

Larry said he had a bad nose. Maybe if he had a good one he’d be able to identify what it was.

His gut was a tight ball. His hands clenched in his pockets.

Just because he couldn’t smell it didn’t mean he didn’t feel it.

“Let’s just focus on the case for now.”

“R-right.”

A note on a desk.

“No.” No. He spun around- ready to lash out. To draw blood. This room- this room-

Gumshoe pulled him into his coat and arms. “I’m sorry pal.”

“No.” His fingers dug into the older Alpha’s shirt. Nails pulling the fabric apart at the seams. “No. I was supposed to save him.”

Gumshoes arms held him tighter. Chest roaring with the mountain of distress. “That’s not how it works pal.”

He buried his tears into Detective Gumshoe’s painful purr.

Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death.

“Nick.”

He didn’t need a good nose to know she was upset.

He wrapped his arms around her. Rubbed his cheek against the base of her neck. She pressed her head up into his hair.

“It’s going to be okay Maya. I got this.”

A high pitched noise. “I knew you were special someone’s!”

Maya pulled away, turning to Pearl. “Pearly that’s not!”

“It’s really not.” Way to make this weird.

“It’s time.” A bailiff told them.

“Come on. We’ve got this.”

Franziska didn’t even have the politeness to pretend to apply scent blockers. No. She let her Alpha rage roll off her like ocean waves.

The courtroom isn’t your personal battlefield Von Karma.

Grow up or Get out.

Honestly, she was just making the rest of them look bad. Playing into every angry alpha stereotype.

Of course she had a whip. Of course. Wasn’t that just perfect?

Maya was gone. Maya was gone.

In the hands of an assassin.

He coated on scent blocker. Closed his shaking hands into fists and did what needed to be done.

Go get Matt Engarde a full acquittal.

How dare you come back. How dare you.

“Franziska-” Edgeworth reached out his hand to her. She watched it. Flinched away.

No blockers meant even he could read her.

Anger. Anger and distress. Distress.

Edgeworth wanted to comfort her.

She snatched the tulips from his hands. “I think visiting hours are over.” Retreated.

Edgeworth’s hand stayed aloft for a moment more. Fell.

“Wright. Tell me what’s going on. You clearly didn’t want trial to be adjourned today.”

“Wright.” He jolted. Head jerking to Edgeworth. What was?

“What are you doing here? You left… hours ago.”

He was collapsed in a chair. Pearl, sleeping between his lap and a second chair pulled up next to him. He wanted to look at Edgeworth but his eyes kept drifting back to Maya. Where she and Larry and Lotta and Gumshoe were dancing across the Gatewater floor.

“Yes. I… Managed to catch up with Franziska. Thank you for giving me her whip.”

“Oh that’s…” This thumb drew small circles on Pearl’s shoulder. Maya beamed as Larry twirled her. Safe. Safe. They were safe. “Good.”

“Wright.” There was a hand on his shoulder. He should jerk away from it or lean into it or something. But all he could do was watch Maya. “My room’s a double.”

“Good for you.”

The hand stayed for a few moments more. “I’ll tell Maya it’s time for bed.” The hand went away. His shoulder was cold.

He kept drawing little circles on Pearl’s shoulder.

Edgeworth moved out into the small cluster of people. Maya grinned and grabbed his hand. Spinning around him with that brilliantly bright smile of hers.

Edgeworth let her but he could see his mouth moving. Maya looked over to him. Waved. His arms were leaden exhaustion but he raised one to weakly wave back anyway.

She turned back to Edgeworth. Spoke animatedly. Punched him in the shoulder.

Began skipping over. Edgeworth slowly trailing behind.

“Nick! Guess what!”

“Hm?”

“Edgeworth said we can stay in his room! We get to stay here! In the crazy nice hotel!”

“The office is literally next door.”

“A mattress! With like thousand count sheets! Instead of that busted old couch! Come on Nick!”

“The couch isn’t busted.” Edgeworth leaned down to touch Pearl- pick her up probably.

He growled.

Maya’s eyes went wide. He covered his bared teeth. Edgeworth stopped and watched him.

“Sorry.”

Miles levered himself back to standing. Pushing up on his knees. “Come on Wright. Time for bed.”

The bags under his eyes had a physical weight to them. He tried to pick Pearl up without waking her. She made a small sound and cuddled into his shoulder. Dragged his body upward. To standing.

Maya tucked herself into his side. He put his arm around her shoulder. Tried not to make obvious how much he was leaning on her for support.

Edgeworth held open the door for them. Maya barreled in. Belly flopping onto the mattress. Rubbing her face all over the blankets as she rolled in them.

“Nick these are SO nice!”

The door closed behind Edgeworth. He heard the lock softly click. Watched Edgeworth slide the gold door chain lock into place. Step back. He stared at the lock for a few moments more.

Was that really enough? What if someone came in and took Maya again? Or Pearl this time? That tiny chain wouldn’t stop anyone. There had to be something more he could do-

“Wright.” Edgeworth. “We can put a chair in front, if it would make you feel better.”

Stupid Alpha. It’s fine.

He nodded anyway.

“AH HA!” Maya triumphantly announced. “The nest is done! Give me Pearly Nick!”

She’d already rearranged the blankets and pillows into a small nest pressed against the headboard. He walked over and handed Pearl, who blinked awake briefly as they passed her, over the fabric walls of the nest.

Maya curled around her. Wrapping Pearl up in her scent. Safe. They were safe.

Edgeworth jammed the door with a chair. He paced the outline of the room. Listened to Maya and Pearl purr.

Safe. They were safe.

The water turned on briefly in the bathroom. The purring began to stutter and fault as they fell asleep.

He paced the length of the room.

The bathroom door opened. Edgeworth stepped out in a set of pink pajamas. Neck bare. Some other night he would have enjoyed that.

“You’re going to wear a tread into the carpet.” He warned. Watching him pace. Back and forth. “Either get in the nest with them or lay down.”

“I can’t.” I have to protect them.

Stupid stupid alpha. They’re fine.

“Wright.” Edgeworth cut his path off. A hand pressing into his chest. “Your pack is safe. Close your eyes and breathe in.” He ordered.

He resisted. For a moment. Edgeworth’s face, as hard as always, did not waver.

He closed his eyes and breathed.

Maya. Pearl. Contentment.

Safe.

He fell forward into Edgeworth. The man effortlessly supported his weight.

It was faint under the fresh change of clothes and whatever blocker it was he used. But it was still there. That scent like warm blankets fresh from the dryer.

“At least get in the bed before you collapse on me.” He complained, maneuvering them to the spare bed.

“I’m still mad at you.” He mumbled into his shoulder. They flopped down onto covers. He stayed half on top. One leg slotted between Miles’. Nose pressed to his beautifully bare neck.

“Save that for tomorrow morning.” A hand was carding through his hair. A quiet rumble pushing up through Miles chest into his. “For now, just rest.”

Finally. He slept.

He woke up alone. Well. Not alone. Maya and Pearl slept on in the bed next to him. But Edgeworth was gone.

He listened to the shower run.

Here. Not totally gone.

He burrowed further into the blankets and tried not to growl.

Couldn’t even let me have this Edgeworth? Couldn’t even let me have one morning where I wake up with you in my arms and knew for sure that you’re safe and alive?

He buried his face in the stupid pillows. Chased after that barely there scent.

Asshole.

The second time he woke up the room smelled like breakfast. To Maya jumping right onto him.

“Breakfast! Room service! Nick!”

“Ooof!’ He groaned in protest. “Ooow. Get off me!”

She laughed and scrambled off him. Towards the small table lined with food.

Edgeworth sat on the couch. No bed head in sight. Brushing Pearls hair as she ate.

Your pack is safe.

“Wright you should hurry if you want breakfast. I doubt Maya has any qualms about cleaning the remaining plates.”

“I do not!”

He rolled out of bed with a groan and shuffled over to the table.

“If you’re trying to bribe your way to forgiveness,” He took a bite of the quiche. Stopped. Savored it. That was good. “… It won’t work.” He finished, far less certain than when he’d began.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Stood. Grabbed a pastry. Stared at him as he shoved another bite in.

“… What?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He scolded. His hand came up. Carded through his limp spikes. Arranging them back into position.

He froze. Stuck between irritation and the almost overwhelming urge to lean in.

The hand disappeared. Taking jacket on the chair behind him and pulling it on.

“Have a good day.”

“You’re going to work?!”

He glanced back over his shoulder at them. One eyebrow raised. “Yes?”

“… Have a good day.”

There were phone calls across the ocean. He’d drift off to the sounds of Miles readying for the day.

“When are you coming home?” He mumbled, half asleep into his pillow. Listening to Miles put on his cravat for a new day.

He imagined instead he was listening to Miles take it off. Neck bare. So he could lay down in the bed next to him. Warm, sleepy and he’d snuggle into the softest fleece. Purring.

“… Do you need me to?” Was the soft reply. The rustling halting.

“I miss you.”

“… I miss you too.”

It wasn’t just that Iris looked so familiar. It wasn’t just that she felt familiar.

She smelled familiar too. Like that sweet omega he’d loved.

That had betrayed him.

Her hood. It smelled just like her. He pressed the cloth to his nose and inhaled it.

Really it just made everything that much more confusing.

“Wright.”

Edgeworth?

“You’re alive.”

At the door to his hospital room stood a man in a rumpled jacket with deep bruises under his eyes. Ruffles disheveledly ruffled around his neck.

Edgeworth.

“Yeah I’m,” A cough interrupted him. “Not that easy to get rid of.”

The chair next to his bed was pulled out. Edgeworth did not sit perfectly straight in it. His elbows rested on his knees and he leaned in close.

“Larry said you fell off a bridge and drowned.” A low rumble- a growl? Nah. Edgeworth wouldn’t growl. That’d be improper. He giggled at the notion. “I’m going to strangle that man with his own sleeves.”

“No that parts true.” Edgeworth looked upset. “It was only a little on fire.”

Because there hadn’t been much bridge left.

Edgeworth got even paler. He didn’t think his reassurance worked.

“Why would you-” There was a strangled sound.

The bridge.

Maya!

“Maya! She’s still trapped over there!” How had he forgotten? She was trapped over there and it was so cold out and they didn’t have food and- “I have to go help her!” He started to untangle himself from the stupid tangle of blankets.

“I’ll make sure it’s handled Wright.” A hand was on his shoulder. Slowing him down. “Lay down.”

He believed him. Let that hand start guiding him back down when. “Iris.”

“What?”

He twisted towards his laptop. “Iris. She not. I know she didn’t do it. I have to-“ Something stuck in his throat as he twisted and that urge to cough became unbearable. He curled forward and hacked. Coughing and coughing and coughing and he couldn’t stop to breathe in and when he tried there was something there and no air would come in and he was so scared he wouldn’t be able to and Maya and Iris and poor little Pearl-

The bed creaked but he only felt it depress under him over the sound of his own coughing. Warmth blanketed his back and then the rumbling started. Deep and strong it vibrated through the whole of his chest.

He hacked once more and something dislodged. Inhaled. Fresh air filled his burning lungs. He coughed a few more times and tasted slimy mucus on the back of his tongue.

“Ew.” He complained, hand blindly searching for the tissues.

One appeared in his hand and he spit the snot into it. The rumbling did not stop and he eased back into it.

Edgeworth’s arms were wrapped around his chest. His legs splayed out on either side of the bed. His chest was warm and vrring soothingly like hum of a car engine.

He leaned back into it and tucked his forehead into the junction of Miles jaw and neck. Shivering despite the blankets and hood. Despite his warmth.

“I can’t smell you.” He whined. Nose clogged. “You used to smell so good.” Like. Like blankets still warm from the dryer. He wanted burrow into them and wrap himself up in that scent.

“Used to huh?” The motor slowed to half a hum.

“Noooo. Don’t stop. It helps.” He could breathe. The urge to hack out a lung made distant by Miles soft engine.

“Ngh.” The vibration stuttered and restarted.

He drifted there. Tucked into Miles shoulder. Drifting back towards sleep.

“Iris.” He snapped open his eyes and grabbed for the laptop again. “I need-“

Miles pinned him back to his chest with one firm hand. “To sleep.”

“No- No she’s innocent. I know she didn’t do it. I have to. I have to clear her name.”

“Well you’re not going anywhere in this condition Wright.”

Gods. He just need a second body. One that wasn’t ill. That could go investigate for him.

Oh. He had an idea.

“Miles.” The rumbling stuttered and then roared and he could physically feel the sound vibrating through their chests. He tried to angle his head to look at Edgeworth but he’d bowed it and his face was hidden by a curtain of hair. “I need a favor.”

“What now Wright?”

He reached over to the side table again but grabbed something else instead.

“Take this?”

One of the hands around his chest released, palm up.

He set the golden defense attorney’s badge in it.

“W- and do what with this?”

“The rumbles!” He complained about their sudden stopping.

“No I’m not going to purr myself into being alright with this- I’m a prosecutor not a defense attorney!”

“Yeah. I know. A brilliant one. Please. I need you to defend Iris for me.”

“I can hire someone to defend her for you but I can’t just-“

“NO! It has to be you!” He tried to twist in Edgeworth’s grip to plead with him directly. The grip around his ribs tightened. Making it impossible. “You care about stuff. Please. You’re the only one I’d trust with this.”

Miles head tucked into the crook of his neck. His arms shaking.

“I know you can do this. Please Miles.”

His hand closed around the badge and the rest was history.

“Wooh bro you should lay back down.”

He glared at Larry – Laurice – from where he’d fallen from the bed.

Okay so he wasn’t quite as stable as he thought yet. But he was good enough. He could go investigate.

Larry picked him up by the armpits and dragged him back off the floor onto the mattress. “Just let Edgey handle it. Your mate did great today!” Thumbs up.

“My what?! Larry! We’re not!” His face was definitely bright red and not from the lingering fever.

Larry blinked at him. Tilted his head and crossed his arms. “You sure man? Cause you smell hella claimed.”

“Don’t you think I’d know if we were?” (Besides how would we? He keeps running away.)

“Hmm, I don’t know. You’re not always the brightest bulb in the six pack.”

(What does that even mean? And I don’t want to hear that coming from you!)

“I mean he flew halfway around the world to check on you.”

“What? No he said he was already here for work.”

Pity. Why was Larry looking at him with pity?

“Well whatever cuddle party you two had,” He interjected. “That was just because I couldn’t breathe!” Larry ignored him. “You stink. You’re all sickness and distressed omega. You need a shower.”

“I’m not an omega.”

“Didn’t say you were bro.”

The shower was nice. He felt significantly more human after. The steam even cleared his nose for a bit.

It clogged back up by the time he finished getting dressed but it had been nice to breathe clearly while it lasted.

“How could I have done that..?”

Still beating himself up over letting Iris run away during the earthquake it seemed.

“Edgeworth?”

“Aaah!” He jumped and turned like he was going to make a break for it over the fence.

“Hey! Don’t you dare run away!”

He was so sick of Miles running.

He grit his teeth. Held himself. But turned back to him all the same.

“What do you want Wright?”

“What do I want?”

“If you came here to laugh at me, then get on with it. Go on. Laugh.”

(Edgeworth…)

He sighed.

Pulled his hands out of his jacket.

“Fine.” He stepped forward. The snow crunched under his feet. “Come here.”

Miles was nothing but sharp edges and tension when he wrapped his arms around him.

“W-what are you…?”

“You’re stronger than you think. So stop it with all the self-pity okay?”

Between the frigid cold and the cold he still couldn’t smell anything. But he didn’t have to have a working nose to soothe with his own scent. You’re Safe. Loved. Protected.

He wasn’t sure it was working.

Not until Miles melted like spring snow into his arms. Nose tucked into the space between his jacket and scarf.

“I’m sorry for letting her get away.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He ran his fingers through the soft strands of his grey hair.

“I’m still sorry.”

“Then you’re forgiven.”

Miles sighed into his jacket. Squeezed him back. “You’re ridiculous Wright.”

“… You went back to the criminal affairs department right? Because you wanted to look into something about Iris?”

His jacket was released and both stepped back. Not that he wanted to. “Yes. I thought I had seen her before, in court. So I went back and looked.”

“What’d you find?”

His cheek ached. The imprint of Pearls hand turning it red.

Edgeworth squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll handle the girls. Take your time.”

He sent a grateful smile back. Squeezed the hand on his shoulder in return.

“Mr. Edgeworth?” Iris called after him, as he was halfway out the door. “I wanted to thank you for your advice.”

Edgeworth’s lips were a tight line. He nodded.

“I think maybe it’s time you took it yourself.”

“Huh?” He looked between them.

“… I’ll take it under consideration.”

The door closed behind him. “What was that about?” He asked her.

“That’s the Edgeworth you always used to talk about right Feenie?”

Feenie.

Swallowed glass.

It dug into his throat.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“I’m glad you found him at long last.”

“Y-yeah I,” He looked up at her and stopped. What was that expression? Wait. “Hold it! We’re not!” He slammed his hands down on the table. “Not together!”

She smiled. Tittered. “Okay, okay. I believe you Feenie.”

“… Could you not…?”

Her eyes widened. Head tilted down. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

“No- its fine.”

They both stared at their hands for a while.

“I know it doesn’t mean much now but… I really did love you. I wanted you to be happy. I still do. So… Even if you hate me…”

Hating you would be easy. It wouldn’t have hurt so much if I hadn’t loved you.

“I’m really glad you found each other. I know that omega really loves you.”

“…” He lifted his head to frown at her. “Maya’s like a sister to me.”

Her eyes widened- gods he could see Pearls in that motion. Morphed into a weak smile. Like they’d just shared a joke that had stopped being funny years ago. One that left her a happy recollection but was mostly sad. “You never had a very good nose did you?”

He almost argued Yeah I still have a head cold from falling in the Eagle River thanks. But he stopped. Searched her.

“… No. I guess not.”

Maya and Edgeworth were speaking in hushed tones in the waiting lobby. Pearly bounced over to him with a can of juice in her hand. He smiled and they neared them together.

“He’s already done far too much for me.” Edgeworth with that worrying self-sacrificial tone.

“Yeah I really don’t think he’d mind.” Maya with a cheeky one.

“Mind what?” He asked.

They both jumped.

“Nothing.” Edgeworth might have said. It was drowned out by Maya’s, “NOTHING!”

And then the sliding of locks over their hearts.

“… I still have the magatama on me.” He warned both of them.

“It isn’t my secret! Pearly and I are taking the bus home! Good night!”

They both watched her go.

Real natural Maya.

“So.”

Edgeworth gripped his elbow and turned away. “It’s not something you need to concern yourself with.”

“Yeah well, too bad. I’m already concerned so save us both some time and just tell me.”

He mumbled something that was definitely not meant to be audible. He leaned in and cupped his ear. “What?”

“I’m in pre-heat! There! Does that satisfy you?” Edgeworth snapped. Face bright red as he glared down at him.

Oh.

Um. “Anything I can do to help?”

“No.” He looked away again but the flush on his cheeks remained. “Franziska has already made it clear she is willing to aid me,” He forced down the irritation that bubbled up. They were siblings. She’d probably helped him through plenty. Somehow that made it worse. “And worst case I can always ask Larry again.”

Again? The growl broke free. He stepped forward. “You asked Larry before me?!”

Edgeworth blinked blankly at him. “Wha- He helped me through the last one I had in LA yes. Why are you?” Miles took a step back into the wall. He matched it.

“Why Larry and not me?! After everything you’d choose Larry over me?!”

“That’s not-”

He couldn’t smell the pre-heat yet but this close he could smell Miles every time he dragged a breath in around his teeth.

“You should have asked Me!”

Miles looked a little dazed where he pressed against the cement brick walls. “I-I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Yes the alpha growl was still rumbling through his vocal cords and throat. It was impolite. But he couldn’t stop it. Larry. Larry got to be there for Miles. Got to share his nest and hold him and- and-

Miles gaze kept flicking away but the growl, his demand for attention, always drew it back. “Because it wouldn’t have been platonic with you.”

The growl died.

You smell hella claimed dude.

“I’m sorry. I swear I don’t mean for this to change anything. I just. I can’t share a heat with you. I can’t pretend like I won’t try and jump you.” He squeezed his eyes tight. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I don’t want to do that to you.”

That omega really loves you.

He touched the hand digging into Miles elbow. Watched the heartbreaking spasm of pain across his face. “What if I want you to?”

“…” Miles eyes blinked open. Studied him. Confused. “What?”

He moved in a breath closer. A mere inch or two between them. He could feel Edgeworth’s body heat. Smell that comforting scent like fresh blankets pulled from the dryer.

And something else. Something that made his mouth water.

“What if I want you to jump me? Want to share a heat non-platonically?”

Cause really, the idea he could share a heat platonically with Edgeworth was absurd. Frankly it hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“W-wha- Then I…” He pressed up against him. One hand pushing him into the wall. The other caging him in. He watched Miles groan, eyes fuzzy as his hardening bulge pressed into his hip. “Think we should continue this conversation elsewhere.”

Oh. He glanced around at the waiting room. “Yeah okay. That’s fair.”

“This seems wildly unnecessary.” He complained laying on the office couch. Phone pressed to his ear.

“I will not have either of us rushing into this simply because my hormones are making us…”

“Too horny?”

“Please Wright.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay so what. We’re supposed to like. Share medical history? I had a test after my last partner. I’m clean. I can probably figure out how to email that to you.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I can’t actually review it right now. I’d send you mine but…”

“Wooh do you actually have something?”

“No! I’m clean. I just. Can’t use my laptop right now. And I’d really rather not have Franziska digging through my medical history.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t I want Franziska digging through my medical history?”

“Why can’t you use your laptop?”

The line crackled. “Ah. I have quite bad light sensitivity during pre-heat. And occasionally during.”

“Does that mean you’re buried under a pile of blankets right now?”

The silence was telling.

Aww.

“Shut up Wright.” He could almost see the blush tinging his cheeks. “I also want to make it clear you may leave at any time. Just let Franziska or Larry know if I become too much for you.”

“Yeah I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

“Wright.”

“Okay, okay. Promise.”

“Additionally, it’s a stress heat and I’m on birth control so you needn’t worry about that.”

“Yeah I figured. Neither of us exactly seem ready for pups.”

There was a drawn out exhale. “Uh… What else?”

“You okay over there?”

“I’m fine. It’s just. Getting hard to focus.”

His fingers clenched around the phone. I should be there. With you. Not Franziska.

“Don’t growl at me.”

“Sorry. Is that a rule during or just-”

“Just. Right now.”

“Right. Um. No on mating bites?”

“I’m not… opposed. But I agree it wouldn’t be wise.”

Not opposed? He could sink his teeth into the back of Edgeworth’s neck and claim him and keep him. He could almost feel Edgeworth’s teeth sinking into him. Mine. Mine. Mine.

He exhaled and ground the heel of his palm against his trousers. “Fuck.”

There was a quiet whine on the other side. “Behave Wright.” Came the weak protest.

“Sorry. Uh. Boundaries?”

“No derogatory language. At least at the start.” Yeah okay. “And… don’t call me perfect or any iteration there in.”

“Huh? But-”

“That one’s a hard rule. Please.”

“…” Perfect. Perfection.

Von Karma.

“Yeah. Got it.”

“Hm… I can’t think of anything else. Sorry. I haven’t spent a great deal of time thinking about this.”

“Well that makes one of us.”

“… Did you even know I was an omega?”

“Well. No. That wasn’t. What I meant.”

“I see. Yes well.” He coughed. “Fantasy is one thing. The actual mechanics are another. What are yours?”

“My fantasies?”

“Boundaries.” Miles deadpan replied.

“Oh um. Don’t threaten to kill me?”

“That may be difficult depending on how irritating you are in bed.”

“Ha. Ha. Uh… Don’t convince me I’m dating you when it’s actually your secret twin?”

“… Wright are you sure you’re up for this?”

“Yeah no I’m totally fine.” He laughed nervously. “I mean that happened years ago.”

“And you just got closure yesterday.”

“I’m fine. It’s just fresh on my mind. I really do want this.”

“This won’t be my last heat Wright. There’s always next time.”

“Edgeworth. I’m sure.”

“… Alright.” There was the distant sound of Franziska yelling. The phone was muffled as Edgeworth yelled back a reply. “… Anything else?”

Swallowed glass.

“Don’t… Call me Feenie?”

“Why would I call you that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well. I won’t.” There was a pause. “Anything else?”

“I got nothing.”

“Well. If you’re still certain-”

“I am.”

“Don’t interrupt.” He rolled his eyes. Sorry. “You may ask Franziska for the address.”

“You’re not just going to tell me?”

“I’d prefer to give you a few minutes to attempt to think this over. She won’t respond until she’s done at very least.”

“As much as that annoys me I guess that means we won’t run into each other. Little victories.”

“Quite. Alright. Then… See you soon Wright.”

“Phoenix?”

“… See you soon. Phoenix.”

Yeah. This was going to be all right.

Miles apartment was nice. Really nice. Like someone might call the police on him for being here levels of nice.

It was kinda nerve wracking.

Then there’s the multi paragraph directions Franziska sent him. Where the fridge was. Where the food was. What he should order as takeout during if they need more and exactly what exactly he should order.

Where the laundry was. How to run it. How often he needed to change them out or else she’ll whip him for mistreating her brother.

Strongly worded reminders about how he is to make sure Miles is eating and drinking because he hates to eat during heat and-

It’s a lot.

But he pushes open the bedroom door- even he can smell the cloying scent of Miles drawing him in – and the room is empty. A neat bed perfectly made. An open bathroom door. Curtains drawn over the windows.

A pile of water bottles, blankets and towels right next to the closet door along with a laptop, plugged in.

“Edgeworth?” He tries. “Miles?”

“If your nose is still running you should grab some tissues before entering.” Came the response from behind the closed closet door.

He picked a box up off the nightstand and knelt down next to it. “Uh… Omega can I come in?”

“This isn’t porn Wright.” The door cracked open. Edgeworth’s back to him. His head covered by one of Franziska’s blouses. “I hope you don’t expect anything exciting. My head hurts and I just want to sleep.”

He slowly climbed in. It was a beautiful nest. With soft canopy ceilings that must have been attached to the clothing rack and a plush mattress floor covered in soft blankets and towels. The walls intricately weaved together.

“Fuck. Miles its perfect.” Shit. “Sorry.” Messing up right at the gate.

“Yes, It is. Franziska made it.”

“Wha- wait what really? But she’s an alpha.” Although. It did definitely smell like her. He sat down on the floor and stared up. Admiring the handwork. The smell was only… a minor irritant.

Okay it was super annoying. But soon enough it would smell like the two of them and it wouldn’t matter.

“Close the door Wright.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I don’t know how to make nests. Franziska’s always made them for me. Or Larry, that one time.”

“Really? Isn’t it supposed to be instinctive?” A small noise escaped him. “I mean there’s all those tutorials online, right? Maya even made me help her a few times.”

“I could learn. I choose not to. It’d would never be as nice.”

“Why not?”

“… Because I’d have made it.” A growl built in the back of his throat. “Will you lay down?”

He did. “You’d make a great nest Edgeworth. You’re great at pretty much everything you try.”

“Paper cranes.” Well shit. He remembered all those crumpled pieces of paper. Edgeworth’s tear stained face as another one crumpled into recognizable garbage. “Even if I became a master I would only see the imperfections. It’s better for me if someone else makes them.”

Miles rolled over and tucked himself into his chest. Into the sweatshirt he’d pulled on for the trip over. In the darkness he reached out and found the soft grey hair of his head. Stroked it. “Yeah. I guess that makes sense.”

A purr started. He yawned. Alright. He was more tired than he thought.

He nestled into the nest and let Miles purr carry him off.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

The Ko’s Arcade

Summary: Falling for the arcade owner’s son is a lot easier than you think. 

[He would probably propose to you with a vending machine ring ngl very cute tho].

Do or Not Series

Fluff

Word Count: 2,843

Shinwon X Reader

I’ve been going to the arcade on the outskirts of the city for years. To the point where Mr. Ko knows my whole family, considering they were the ones to start bringing me here. My parents thought I would stop going to The Ko’s Arcade when I was a seventh-grader at the latest. But here I am, almost out of college and still going at least once a week. Who knows, there might be a new game there? Or better yet, they have a new prize to win. Or a new thing to get at the vending machine. It’s a reward after a long week of courses, tests, and my job. The stress relief of beating Donkey Kong at his own game is the best feeling. But it not only those, maybe it’s because Mr. Ko’s son Shinwon is working there now? Yeah,... about that,... I may have a slight crush on him,... May. 

“You’re going to that silly arcade again?” My mom asks, and I nod, “It’s Sunday, so yeah.” She shrugs and tells me to enjoy myself and to tell Mr. Ko ‘hi’. I ride my bike over to the arcade, and for the next five hours, I am going to play some games and unwind. And possibly sneak a peek at the cute guy who runs the prize station. The bells ring above the door as I walk in and spot a few kids playing different games. Shinwon goes, “Welcome back to The Ko’s Arcade!” I grin and wave at him and walk to the back to find Q*Bert. After eight levels and three different tries to get up to the ninth level. I give up as I hop on the snake by accident again. I decide it’s not worth the hassle and get a pop from the vending machine. 

While looking around for another game. I catch Shinwon playing a two-player racing game by himself. Working up my confidence, I make my way over to him and challenge him to the next round. He smirks, “Alright. What’s the reward if we win.” I scrunch up my nose and think for a moment before it hits me. I need fifty more tickets to win the giant stuffed animal I have been eyeing. I rarely play the games that spit out tickets, so it is harder to earn than you would believe. “If I win, I want the big stuffed animal you guys have behind the counter.” He nods and tells me, “If I win,... the next time you hit the high score on Donkey Kong, you have to write my name.” I scoff, “Of course,... it has to be my title you are after.” He laughs, and I grin, “So is it a deal?” I nod, and we both shake hands. 

Let’s just say the game did not go as I expected. I expected to be at least in second place, if not in first. Let me say, Shinwon had some tricks up his sleeves and knew the track better than I did. Considering this was my second time playing this game, and probably his fiftieth. I ended up in last place in the first two races, and by the third, I was finally in seventh place. Shinwon moved around in numbers going from second to fifth to first. There goes my Donkey Kong high score title, I’ll miss it, but at least I’ll know that it’s me that has the highest. Mr. Ko will be in shock that my high score got taken by Shinwon. When everyone knows he is awful at the game like I am with racing games. I pout over him as the last race finishes up and totals our scores. He laughs, and in a teasing voice, he goes, “Did someone lose?” I pout and nod my head as he smiles over at me before he types in the winner. I don’t look at who’s name he types in till it circles back to the leaderboard. And printed in bold red letters is (Y/n). He winks at me and helps me out of the chair. 

He walks us over to the prize counter and reaches underneath, and pulls out a clip-on stuffed animal. He hands it over to me with a smile playing on his face. I grin at him as I realize it’s a little monkey. “Here, I had an unfair advantage on that racing game. Plus, your favorite game is dad’s favorite so,...” I thank him and put the monkey on my belt loop with a big smile on my face. I tell him to give me one second, and I race over to my backpack. And take the hot wheel car pin off of it and hand it to him. The one I had won at the arcade years before, “You suit the title of the best arcade racer better than I do.” He gasps, “My dad hasn’t carried these for years! They went out so fast that I didn’t get a chance to win one!” I grin and pin it to his green and white striped jacket. “Well, here you go. You deserve it.” It’s his turn to blush, and we give each other a fist bump before I make my way over to Donkey Kong. 

Three hours later, I hit the high score again. He comes over as I’m about to hit enter. “You don’t have to put my name as the high score, by the way.” He tells me, and I turn around to look at him and hit the enter button as I shake my head. “Yeah, but a deal is a deal. By next Sunday, I’ll have your score blown out of the water anyway.” He smiles, “I’ll gloat while I have the chance then.” I grin, “You go for it, King Kong.” He laughs as he says, “Whatever you say, Speed Racer!” I laugh and grab my backpack and make my way out. “I’ll see you next Sunday?” I ask, and he tells me, “Couldn’t miss it.” My heart is pounding by the time I leave. 

--

Next Sunday, like clockwork, my mom tells me to have fun at the arcade. But weirdly, it isn’t Shinwon standing behind the counter to greet me it’s Mr. Ko. “Good Morning, Mr. Ko!” I exclaim, and he goes, “Ah! Good Morning, (Y/n)! Bright and early like usual!” He notices me looking around for Shinwon, and he says, “If you’re looking for Shinwon, he’s in the back. He’s getting ready to put a new game out.” I nod as he points to the back room, and I decide to go back there. 

I open the door and don’t spot Shinwon, but spot some old classics I grew up playing. Like my mom’s favorite Pong. When that went out of order, she stopped coming in. Or Ms. Pacman, my dad’s favorite. I hope someday they will come back out on the floor. As I head further in, I see Shinwon struggling with a cardboard box, and I can’t help the giggle the falls from my lips. He whips his head around in my direction, I wave, and he smiles at me, “Here to help?” I shrug, “Am I getting paid?” He rolls his eyes, “Depends if you’re good to help.” “And if I’m good help?” He smirks, “We’ll see.” I shake my head as I place my book bag down and try to see what he’s doing. “Usually, the boxes come off easier, but this particular game is a special order so,... it’s packaged weirdly.” I nod and grab the box cutter he was using and slice down the side carefully. We pull on either side, and it still doesn’t give. After a few minutes of figuring out the best approach, we agree on ripping the box open. When we get it open, he asks, “What do you think?” I grin, "This is gonna be fun." He smiles as I take a closer look at it. Unlike the classics that are stand to play, there are chairs for you to sit and play on the tabletop arcade. On the instructions, it contains a bunch of old classics that no longer inhabit the place: like Pong, Asteroids, and Centipede. I help him wheel it out, and we each grab the two metal chairs and bring them over. He plugs it in and says, “I challenge you to Centipede!” I smirk, “You know I’m a pro at the classics!” He shrugs, “Are you?” 

Two hours later, after playing the different games, he has to return to the counter. Five kids walked up to the register with a bunch of tickets. His dad went home after we came out of the backroom, which left him to run the ticket counter. I watch him from afar and see how kind he is with the kids, and my heart melts a little. I remember being that age and rushing up to the counter to see what I could get. Or if I needed more to get what I want. Hoping that I would have enough time for one more game before my parents came. That Mr. Ko would let me have the prize although I was off by a few tickets. It seems that Shinwon is no different in that department; the one kid was off by five, and he still handed him the fifty-ticket item. I smile to myself. How could I ever get tired of this place? It’s filled with my childhood memories and,... Shinwon. 

As I watch him, I realize I’m in deep with my feelings for him. From his smile to his aura, I can’t help but fall more and more for him each second. He comes back over to me and says, “Sorry about that--” I cut him off, “Don’t be, we were both kids once.” He smiles, and I continue, “It was cute how you cared for them. You reminded me of your dad--” He groans, “Ah man, not my dad!” I shake my head and laugh, “Your dad is like the coolest and sweetest--.” He smirks, “Are you trying to say you find me cute and sweet?” I roll my eyes, “I was going to finish my sentence with ‘old man’. But I mean if the shoe fits--.” He shakes his head, and I laugh. I squeeze the little monkey he gave me that is hanging off of my belt loop. And I notice the pin I gave him is still in the same spot. He notices the monkey is still on me. He smiles, “I see you still are wearing the little guy.” I smile, “It seems you still have the pin.” 

Five more games against Shinwon, and it’s time for me to go home. I start to bid him goodbye when he goes, “Before you go, I know I’m going to regret it if I never ask you. Would you want to go on a date with me sometime? It's okay if you don't want to!” I turn around and look him in the eyes and ask if he is for real. He nods, and I grin, “I would love to, when and where?” He taps his chin with his first finger in thought and goes, “Would the pizza parlor uptown be good?” I nod, “I believe so, around six pm tomorrow?” He nods, “I get off at five, so I can pick you at six?” I nod, “Sounds good to me, King Kong.” He laughs, and I bid him goodbye, and he yells after me, “See ya later, Speed Racer!” My heart is beating out of its chest as I race home. The butterflies in my stomach are unbearable, “I have a date with my crush, Ko Shinwon, tomorrow!” I don’t realize I yelled that out loud until my dad let out an, “Um??” I laugh and scratch the back of my neck, “So uh, when were you going to tell us that? Is that why you always go to the arcade?” I shrug, “Partly, but I also have to defend my title as the champion of Donkey Kong.” He laughs, “Well, I trust you two, but be back home at a reasonable time.” I nod and race to my room, throw my head into the pillow and squeal about it. 

--

At 6 pm sharp, I hear a knock on my door, and I race over to it. I bid my parents goodbye after slipping on my shoes and head out with Shinwon. When we reach the pizza place, he asks, “Are you any good at card games?” I grin and nod my head as we slip into a booth. He pulls out a deck of cards and deals them out. “I challenge you to a game of War!” By the time the waiter comes over to take our order, we are in a heated battle. We only break our concertation to order the pizza and our two drinks. Before we are back in action, firing cards at one another to see who will come out on top. Unlike the last time with the racing game, I come out on top. “I win!” He groans and dramatically falls back into the seat. I laugh, and he smiles as I choose the next game like Rummy, and he pulls a pad of paper out of his deep pockets. “How deep are your pockets in the jacket?!” He grins, “I can hide a whole lot of movie theatre snacks in these babies.” We laugh as we start up the game. We finish the game coming out as a tie with a perfect 500 on either side. “I guess that means we’re even.” I wink at him, “Not for long.” He smirks at me as I grab a pizza slice from the pan. “May the best player win!” He exclaims when we shake hands before we devour our pizza. 

“Winner gets a kiss on the lips!” Shinwon exclaims, and I blush, “Alright but be prepared to lose!” I tell him with confidence. He grins, “Either way, I’m a winner.” Thirty minutes and three pizza slices later, I win the card game. I blush as I realize what’s going to happen. He wipes his hands off on a paper towel. I push the pizza pan to the side, and he reaches over the table. I meet him halfway as he puts his hand underneath my chin and places a chaste kiss on my lips. Before he can get away, I pull him back in for another kiss. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while, King Kong.” I sigh as we pull away, and he grins, “So have I, Speed Racer.” I hide my face behind the cards and blush. He laughs at me and pulls the cards down, “You’re cute.” I give him a small smile and tell him, “I think you’re cuter!” 

Three games full of laughter [a few kisses] and two pizza pans later, we’re, finally, worn out. We walk out of the parlor, and right outside is a small vending machine that flattens coins and stamps them. We rush over to it, thinking the same thing. Luckily, I have two pennies in my pocket as I slip one in and type Speed Racer in cursive on the machine. When it comes out with a hole punch on the top for a necklace chain, I hand it over to him. “So whenever I’m not around, I’m always with you.” He grins and puts it in his jean pocket, “Okay! My turn!” He makes mine, and when it comes out of the machine, he hands it over to me. Placing my hand over it so I don’t see it at first. I open my hands to see a few goofy little smiles on it. And in big block letters, it says, ‘King Kong’. I grin and place it in my jean pocket as he tells me, “It keeps me close to you. I think I like you.” I grin, and peck his cheek, “I think I like you too.” He places his hand over his cheek and throws his arm over my shoulder. Before he places, a big kiss on my cheek. I can’t help but laugh as we walk home together. 

When we reach my house, I go, “Do you want to go to the movie theaters next time?” Shinwon grins at me, and I continue, “Well, I got to see how many snacks we can sneak in with those pockets!” He laughs, and before he parts to his house, I kiss him. He kisses me back, and when we part, it feels bittersweet, “I’ll see you soon?” I nod, and he leaves as I go inside, I hear a loud, “WOOHOO!” And I can’t help but laugh because I have the funniest and cutest date possible. I cannot wait for Sunday,... Maybe I’ll see him before that. I tell my whole family, filled with excitement, “So are you going tomorrow to see him?” I grin at my mom, and I nod happily, “I think so.” 

[musette22]

is it weird that I can't even look at their pics right now (seb and chris) because I can't help but feel icky and disappointed? the recent evens reminded me that they are truly two rich and privileged white men who are so dumb just cos they wanna get some. I'm out. Maybe in a year or so I'll check what their projects are. maybe never. I just can't right now. what a shame.

Okay guys, I’ve been debating over whether or not to “open my big mouth” about this (as one anon so sweetly put it once), but I’ve been getting quite a lot of messages like this one and I think I do want to share a few thoughts with you all. I’m going to put them under the cut because this is a long one, and I don’t want to clog up everyone’s dash ❤️

First of all, let me just make it clear that I am fully aware of the severity of this pandemic, especially in some places, including in the US, and that I am in no way trying to make light of any of it or undermine how serious this situation is for a lot of people around the globe right now, many of you included. It’s a terrible situation, and it’s far from over. I’m also not aiming to be an apologist for the bad decisions of privileged white males just because I have a crush on them, because that idea is abhorrent to me, but I’m aware some of you might still feel like I am, and that’s your right.

Having said all that, I am getting a bit worried about all the posts I’ve seen about how people are angry and disillusioned with Sebastian and Chris’s behaviour. I’m not trying to invalidate your disappointment, because it’s totally fair to wish they’d made different decisions, more akin to the decisions you yourself presumably would have made. And if that disappointment goes deep enough then it is absolutely fair if you want to unstan them and stop following or supporting them (that does not extend to sending them hate though, that is not in any way acceptable, no matter how disappointed we are).

But, as anon rightfully points out, the fact of the matter is that they are privileged white male celebrities. This is not news. They (especially Chris) have been successful celebrities for a long, long time, and with celebrity come certain privileges. They can afford massive houses in LA and big apartments in expensive areas in New York City, for instance. They get to go to cool parties, they get free stuff, everyone kisses their ass. They get paid exorbitant amounts of money (Chris much more so than Seb of course) that bear no direct relation to their work and responsibilities anymore, at this point.

And that’s not to say they don’t work hard, they do - but so do most of us, and we’re not getting paid nearly as much as them. It’s inherently unfair, but that’s what celebrity culture (and capitalism) are. Now, I’m not saying everyone has to blindly accept the status quo and just ignore how unfair it all is – far from it. In some ways, I wish more people would denounce celebrity culture, because it is in some senses terribly toxic and unfair. But listen, if you want to stan celebrities because it brings you some joy in this fucked up world, then I think that’s also perfectly understandable. That’s what I’m doing too. And to stan celebs (at least of the calibre of Chris and Seb) we need them to be famous, otherwise we wouldn’t even know them and we would get no content to consume. They are famous because they are in Hollywood movies, and they are in Hollywood movies because they play the Hollywood game - to some extent, at least. Playing the Hollywood game means everything from flying all over the world for movie premieres and leaving a huge carbon footprint, to going to glitzy parties where there a are lots or questionable people present, to “lying” in interviews because of contractual obligations - and sometimes it also means playing along with fake PR rumours or relationships, even if it’s bad PR.

I know people are worried about Chris, and especially Seb, being “bought” by Hollywood and its money and temptations, and losing his integrity and that he won’t be that sweet, soft-spoken, well-read boy who loves his mom anymore. I personally believe that so far, both Seb and Chris have managed to maintain an impressive level of integrity throughout it all, and I’m still hopeful that that isn’t going to change (much).

But it’s not realistic to have the same expectations for them you would have for your loved ones for instance, because they’re not. We have zero relationship to them as people, and they owe us nothing. They give us movies and pictures of their pretty faces, and occasionally good advice or lovely hugs at comic cons, but that’s all we’re gonna get from them. They are not our friends or potential partners. They’re human of course, and in that sense just like you and me, meaning they have feelings and thoughts and a right to privacy and they make mistakes, but their circumstances are wildly different from most of ours. They’re surrounded by the Hollywood circus. They are PART of the Hollywood circus, because they’re actors and if you want to be a successful movie actor you have to play the game to some extent. Sebastian cannot be expected to be home all the time and decline going to parties because he prefers staying in with a good book even if he did prefer that, because that way he’d never be noticed by the people who matter, and who could get him where he wants to be. He said it himself, he’s an ambitious guy. He wants bigger roles, bigger challenges. And he’s not going to get them if he doesn’t do some annoying, dumb shit sometimes, unfortunately.

In my view, that doesn’t make him a bad person who doesn’t care about anyone but himself, but it does make him a privileged human. Being a privileged human also entails some responsibilities, though – if you don’t want to become corrupt, you have to make sure you also use your privilege for good. And in my opinion, both Sebastian and Chris do that. They use their voice and their money to help people less fortunate than them. That’s part of that integrity I was talking about. Some of you may disagree, and that’s fine, but this is how I view it.

As for everyone who is upset with them for traveling to Europe during a pandemic and not wearing a mask in public: I completely understand your frustration, and I am frustrated too. This is literally a deadly virus and it has to be taken very seriously, and unfortunately, they’re not taking it very seriously right now, and that kind of sucks. But the truth is, neither of them are breaking any rules and neither of them is being more callous than the majority of people in the countries they’ve been seen in are. The situation in most of Europe is stabilising (not everywhere, and the UK isn’t doing all that great to be fair), and governments are reopening their countries and facilities. Wearing a mask in the street is not mandatory in either Spain or the UK, except for in specific situations such as public transport or if you’re in certain professions. The rules here are different from those in New York etc. because they have been adapted to how each country is faring. 

I live in the Netherlands, and no one here is wearing a mask in the street, not even in the hospital or at the doctor’s, and yet the situation continues to stabilise (I hope to god it stays that way, but that of course remains to be seen). From my friends in Spain and the UK I have heard the situation is much the same. Yes, Sebastian is acting differently from how he did in New York, but he’s in different circumstances too, so that makes sense. Moreover, both Chris and Seb will have been tested before traveling, because they’re privileged celebrities who have access to testing even where lots of normal folks unfortunately don’t.

Now, I’m not saying both guys shouldn’t just have stayed put and not left the country (especially a country where the virus is still rampant), because they should have, and they’re both dumbasses for not doing so. I am definitely disappointed that they’re not being smarter and more considerate about this, but I recognise that my disappointment in part stems from the fact that I put them on a pedestal that I shouldn’t have put them on in the first place. And I know a lot of you are mad at them for flying to Europe “just to get some”, but that is disregarding the fact that both Sebastian’s holiday and Chris’s trip to London seem to be at least partially for PR reasons, most likely pushed and arranged by their agency. The exact extent of how much of it is PR is still a little unclear to me at the moment, but I think it’s fair to assert at this point that they did not just fly to Europe to “get some.”

I know this is ridiculously long, but I have been thinking about all of this a lot these past few days and wanted to get those thoughts out! I hope most of you can understand where I’m coming from here. Love you guys ❤️

[fizzingwizard]

Episode 41 was another fun one! It doesn’t seem related to the main plot, but that’s ok because we needed more world-building. And it does give us a bit of character development. Most importantly of all, it’s the DESPERATELY needed Sora-focused episode. And it’s all hers. We really needed this for Sora and I’m really happy with how it went down. It’s a simple, easy to follow story, and yet it was still cute and funny and good for Sora.

My one complaint would be that, though it’s great to see Sora be awesome and see her friends appreciate her, she didn’t seem to have something she needed to “overcome” like Jou and Koushirou, or something she had to prove like Yamato and Mimi. There’s definitely an important theme for Sora which, like the others, is related to her Crest. It just didn’t have the gravitas I felt it needed. It was a much sillier episode than Yamato’s, for instance. (But nowhere near as silly as Jou’s.) Still, overall very good.

Pic of the day:

A vision of perfection.

More below!

First off, the animation in this episode is really nice. Almost uniform througohut, and some seriously great expressions. CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE

The kids are taking a break (yay!!!! again!! I sweat the producers are reading my blog, HELLO PRODUCERS, THANKS FOR GIVING ME EVERYTHING I ASKED FOR, lol). Taichi and Sora spend it teaching the Digimon to play soccer. Interestingly, some of the Digimon evolve in order to play x’D I guess I can see why Gomamon can’t really play unless he’s Ikkakumon. Plus Tailmon is already Adult level anyway.

It’s really fun to see how much Sora and Taichi both love soccer and love playing it together. Koushirou has a cute moment explaining to the others how awesome Taichi and Sora’s teamwork is.

Sora blows the whistle on Tentomon for grabbing her because you don’t do that in soccer. I think this is a little unfair given that Tentomon can’t really kick the ball that well since he’s got bug feet xD

The whistle Sora has, for some reason, is Jou’s, given to him by his brother so that if he runs into a bear in the woods, he can whistle for help. Lol. That is adorable and hilarious. Still wish it was Hikari’s whistle though

Speaking of Hikari, she and Takeru are happily engaged in making flower crowns together while Patamon smushes the grass.

All of a sudden, these weird, veiny meteors come crashing from a huge island floating in the sky, leaving a crater in the field. Could be dangerous!

Taichi: I’m not afraid. Besides, I’m curious.

Yamato: Be careful, Takeru.

Takeru: Yeah, be careful, Hikari.

omg too cute

I mean look at these expressions and body language. It’s fantastic. I love how Taichi looks like he’s trying not to get too close as he pokes the object with a stick and how Koushirou is like hiding behind his computer lol.

They discover it’s not a meteor, but a fruit. (And look another adorable Taichi face!) Question is, is it edible?

Agumon: Sure is!

Taichi: D:

no seriously I love Taichi being freaked out by his own partner. Lol. It’s one of the best things about Taichi & Agumon. I ate it up in Tri lol

So, I expected Yamato to be the downer of the group here along with Jou, but he’s just concerned that the fruit is too small for everyone to share. Aw what a mom.

It’s also pretty funny that, when a floating island appears and a mysterious fruit falls down with enough strength to leave a crater in the ground, the kids’ reaction isn’t to wonder about what’s going on, but to try to figure out how to eat it lol.

At this point they’re just so used to floating islands that it’s lost all novelty. They’re like, “oh, floating island, been there done that”

Agumon comes up with the obvious solution and Taichi and Sora fly up to the island together to get more fruit. Why only two of them go... is convenience for the episode xD

But it does lead to some good Sora moments and Taichi/Sora friendship. First, Sora is absolutely adorable. Even Agumon comments that she seems in a really good mood and Taichi can tell it’s because of how much she loves playing soccer. The way Sora talks to him, all fast and excited, is just so cute. You can tell she really loves soccer, especially with Taichi.

This episode kinda made me ship Taiora ;_; it was honestly more Taiora than any one episode in the 99 show...

Meanwhile, another giant object starts falling off the island towards the rest of the kids, and Palmon makes THE WEIRDEST SOUND. Like SO WEIRD. I think Yamada Kinoko passed out and made this noise while recording or something bahahahaha

Anyway it’s a refrigerator. Now appliances are falling out of the sky. I don’t understand why it makes the same size crater as the fruit despite being way heavier.

OMG baby Taichi’s hairrrrrrr I cannot

Soon they come across Flymon (why do Sora episodes always involved bugs...? This is the third time lol) who’s abducted a very helpless looking Digimon. They decide to help. Agumon gears up his Baby Flame but is stopped by Sora, who realizes that if they attack they might hurt the victim as well. I assume this is meant to tell us that, while Taichi’s brave and a strategist, another pair of eyes from someone like Sora whose first priority is others’ welfare is a big help.

... except that Sora’s plan for “tackle them” doesn’t seem to me that much better xD It still results in the poor abducted Digimon falling through the sky to her doom... I guess it’s better than falling out of the sky and alsobeing on fire tho

They catch the Digimon, who is Pomumon and just as pathetic as he looks. Meanwhile they’re being attacked by... Tropaliamon? Tropicanamon? lol I already forgot, a big bird with the ability to MELT ENTIRE FORESTS.

Pomumon explains that Evil Tropical Bird-mon and his Flymon invaded the island and started turning all the Pomumon into fruit. When the fruit ripen, they eat them. Pomumon is now the only Pomumon who hasn’t been fruit-ified.

Agumon: ... so... does this make me a cannibal?

Taichi: Maybe now you’ll be mindful of what you eat!

Okay and now the most AMAZING interaction ever, between Yamato and Mimi, and seriously it is a TRAVESTY that they don’t interact directly in the 99 series, I mean LOOK AT THE GOLD WE GET HERE,

Mimi says she hopes there’s fruit or juice in the fridge. Yamato makes an expression like someone just insulted his mother.

They then proceed to argue over what constitutes “juice” and Yamato’s all fired up about it and Mimi’s just like “lol not listening”

IT IS HILARIOUS. Quality content. Mimato shippers eat your heart out

And... this is all they do for the rest of the episode. bahaha. I DON’T EVEN CARE. I love the idea that they fought over this the WHOLE time and never even opened the fridge. The others just had to listen in baffled astonishment xD

Taichi and Sora fight Evil Tropical Bird-mon to save the Pomumon, but Taichi and MetalGreymon get knocked into the pitcher plant that turns Digimon into fruit.

Metla Greymon doesn’t quite fit into the fruit, his horns are really stretching it out lol.

and asdfghjkkl;’‘ TAICHI GETS TURNED INTO A FRUIT TOO, HE’S A DEFORMED BLUEBERRY, HIS GOGGLES THO, LMFAO

i really shouldn’t be as amused as I am

now... I have to say it - the one thing here is, the show has already played its trump cards like Omegamon and WarGreymon. I am sure they have more in store before the end, but the point is, it’s hard to believe Taichi is struggling against Digimon who seem like they shouldn’t have a chance against him. It’s like, you can defeat DoneDevimon, but not Evil-Tropical-Birdmon? You can escape the influence of Millenniumon’s miasma, but not a pitcher plant?? lol

Sora gets ANGRY when Taichi becomes Taichi-fruit. Her Crest of Love glows and brings out Garudamon. Taiora fans around the world screamed.

One way or another, this leaves Sora on her own (yay). And she is a busy girl. She wants to save Taichi first, but Pomumon also needs her help, and Garudamon needs her support while fighting the enemy.

Pomumon: don’t worry about me! I can fly on my own! *fails miserably*

Sora’s face says “I just don’t understand this world,” lol

They are then attacked by Flymon, and Pomumon still pretty much expects Sora to protect him. Sora’s like, “Fine, I’ll deal with Flymon, but you have to go save your friends,” and when Pomumon asks how, she just says “GOOD LUCK” and tosses him away, which honestly made me laugh out loud, you go girl

she’s like QUIT BEING SO USELESS DO SOMETHING ON YOUR OWN and just chucks him

buhahahaha

Pomumon, despite being useless, is able to free one of his comrades. After a brief discussion about how useless they are, they go to save the others.

I believe I can fly

I believe I can touch the sky

think about it every night and day

spread my wings and fly away

Sora thinks back to yet another soccer game where another student did a foul, I guess, on Taichi, and knocks him to the ground. Seeing Sora get so angry and protective of Taichi - omg, it totally squeezes my heat, gah. And it also makes her look so cool. Not just the girl in the back who comforts you when you fall down - also the one who runs up and tells the bully to back off!

that hair tho

Even though he’d been hurt, Taichi encouraged Sora not to quit playing and to win the game. In present time, Sora recalls that instance and uses it to push herself onward:

At this point, I could’ve gotten annoyed: as much as I loved the Taiora friendship and seeing their teamwork, it’s Sora’s episode, and I didn’t want her to succeed because of “what I learned from Taichi.” However, it’s very similar to Koushirou’s episode, where it was the faith Taichi had in him that gave Koushirou the confidence to find the courage he already had. It’s similar for Sora. Plus, since she’s got the Crest of Love, it makes perfect sense that love for her friend would be a motivating factor here.

On top of that - the things Sora thinks about Taichi are then echoed by Garudamon, only about Sora. Sora won’t give up because Taichi never does - and Garudamon won’t give up because Sora never does. You can see the chain reaction: friends building each other up through their support and faith in each other. Very sweet.

buhahahahahaha the freaking taichi blueberry

I really expected Taichi would be a little more wigged out about having been TURNED INTO A FRUIT,  but once he’s free he’s like “Thanks, now let’s get back to the fight!” lol

to be fair there were only a couple minutes left in the episode, no time for freak outs i suppose

They save MetalGreymon who goes to back up Garudamon, but then Sora comes up with a plan.

Of course, it’s related to soccer.

Obligatory Cool Girl Soccer Star Sora shot

They kick the ball to lead the Pomumon’s seed? attack directly into Evil Tropical Bird-mon’s mouth. This... seems to be our kids’ favorite play this season, lmao

While choking on seeds, Garudamon and MetalGreymon launch their attacks and finally defeat him. Yaaaay goodbye weirdass fruit transmogrifying cannibal Digimon bird thing

Taichi tells Sora she’s awesome T______T It’s soooooooo sweet. My Taiora heart leapt

and my Taishiro heart whispered “he said カッコよかった to her but saves すごい for Koushirou <3 “ lol

Soooooo cute. MVP

Garudamon agrees that Sora is awesome

Ending card

So... the honest truth is yeah, this episode wasn’t necessary for the plot at all, and it would have been nice if it had been. But not all of the others’ center episodes were plot-related either. The important thing was for it to be wholly Sora’s episode and give her some Crest-related development. It did both those things.

I really would have liked a conundrum for Sora to fix, but I think the problem there is, since before now she wasn’t getting attention at all, they hadn’t set much of a foundation for that conundrum. The first time around, it was “oh, Sora is kind, so she wants to help anyone she sees” and there was a bit of personality clash with Yamato. Though it was small, it was a good bit of development and useful for two characters. It also led to Yamato and Sora’s friendship strengthening. With Taichi and Sora, we’ve been told they’re friends and teammates, but have not seen many strong examples of that. And, if there’s a fight between them, it could easily turn into a Taichi episode... that’s what I think anyway. So I guess the focus point for this episode was showing how Sora’s deep love for her friends strengthens her already, and maybe there’ll be more complex problems in the future, perhaps when she gets her next evolution... We’ll see.

Anyway. Good episode. So glad to see this show seems to be pretty solidly back on the rails. We only have like 20 episodes left though, seems like a lot but it’ll go fast.

That’s why I’m a bit surprised to see that next week looks like another not really plot-related episode:

Takeru and Yamato are going to a theme park. There’s no context for why they’re not with the others, but my guess is Takeru wanted to go and Yamato took him... easy as that xD I guess we’ll see, but I really hope this doesn’t mean the team is splitting up again.

However, we really do need quality time with Yamato and Takeru as well, so I’m all for this. It’s like the show really has got some self-awareness about how lax it’s been developing characters and relationships thus far and is now cranking it HARD to fit everything in we’ve been missing. Good.

[welllpthisishappening]

Heyooo could you do 6 and/or 9 for kiss prompts please? If you’re still doing them that is. :)

Alright, well, this got long. Let’s all act super surprised. And because you are an absolute delight of a human being, this is Will and Belle. Set in the Blue Verse, obvs. And also because I keep reading these hockey rom coms, so I am in a mood™. They were real fun to write. Particularly on their first date. This is their first date! At the Museum of Natural History! Prompts were: hand kisses and kisses in the snow.

————

This was a bad idea. 

Exceptionally bad. Stupid, really. Impetuous and instinctual and no, no, that second one wasn’t right at all. Agreeing to Ariel’s set-up wasn’t instinctual, was just—

Idiotic, maybe. 

Throwing her head back, Belle tried to find cracks in the ceiling. To match the obvious ones in her sanity. Only the Museum of Natural History did not boast any cracks. Couldn’t, she figured. Something about the structural integrity of the building and, she imagined, the ghost of Theodore Roosevelt. Who would very likely emerge from his statue out front if he realized there was any sort of looming threat to the dinosaur bones stored inside this museum. 

He’d get, like—those horse riders, probably. God, now she couldn’t remember the name for those horse riders, just a mess of facts about San Juan Hill and the Spanish-American War and she’d nearly paced her way onto several people’s shoes already. 

He was late. 

This hockey guy. Will, his name was Will. Scarlet, Will Scarlet. Played defense for the New York Rangers and every article she’d read in the last two days since agreeing to Ariel’s wholly ridiculous suggestion also suggested that Will Scarlet, professional hockey player, was very good at his job. Not quite championship-worthy yet, but it had been close that one season and he was—

Cute. 

Real cute. Had that slight curl to his lips in his headshot and if Belle spent a few minutes that afternoon meticulously examining his headshot then that was between her and her desk and her internet history. Which she should probably delete at some point. Tomorrow, she’d do it tomorrow. First thing, even. 

Would walk into the library and make sure to take care of any lingering evidence detailing all the proof that she was fairly certain there was a hint of something unnameable at the edge of Will Scarlet’s eyes and that was insane. 

She was on a roll, really.

He just—

Well, she thought he was cute. Didn’t have any looming warrants for his arrest. Hit people on the ice with a fair amount of frequency, per several other articles, but that was to be expected. She thought so, at least. Hockey was still a potential project for her. If this worked. 

She didn’t think it was going to work. 

Dating professional athletes was not her. Didn’t fit with her personality, or her possibly subconscious and entirely unfair prejudices, but this guy got paid to play a game and he likely had expectations and fans and a variety of people who fell under the umbrella of antiquated categories with vaguely offensive naming conventions, and there was also Belle’s consistent tendency to self-sabotage because romance had never really panned out all that great, but Ariel had promised. Was so sure. Belle didn’t have a choice. 

Agreeing to this was—

Instinct.

“God damn,” she mumbled, halfway through another lap around the lobby. Twisting between tourists, most of whom were trying to figure out how to store the bags they weren’t allowed to bring into the museum because it appeared most of them had been required to visit Bloomingdales at some point that day, she very nearly stepped on a few more toes and definitely on the back of one boot hell. 

Who immediately cursed. 

Not under his breath. Right out loud, drawing a few stares and one gasp from someone Belle figured had to be from Iowa, or something. 

That was an awful thing to think. 

Only she couldn’t bring herself to feel too badly when her stomach appeared intent on taking up residence in her throat, so as to avoid the acid and the wholly imaginary butterfly wings and he turned around. To stare at her. With that specific glint in his eyes. 

“Hey, can you—oh,” Will sighed, shoulders sagging and that was not great. Bad, even. Real bad. Blind date disaster sort of bad. Belle’s smile made her cheeks ache. “Are you planning on killing me? You look a little crazed. This is a very public place.” “Agreed to so you couldn’t kill me.” “Would hurt my minutes.” “I don’t know what that means,” Bell admitted. “Is your foot alright?”

His lips twisted. She was staring. Appraising, really. Tracing her eyes across a head that was at a slight angle now, and she was having an admittedly difficult time coping with his shoulders. Sloped and clearly muscled, even under the fabric of a well-fitted leather jacket that couldn’t be providing much warmth. 

“It’s cold out.”

Will’s smile stretched. “It is, in fact.” He stuck his hand out, fluttering fingers that weren’t showing any sign of frostbite when Belle didn’t do anything except keep staring. Like a complete psychopath. “If Ariel set me up with a murderer, I’m going to be really annoyed, fair warning.”

“That would be fair, yeah.” “And strangely not an objection.” “I’m really worried about your Achilles tendon.”

He laughed. Guffawed. Threw his head back and wrapped an arm around his waist, seemingly unaware of the glances and the few prolonged stares because he was a professional athlete and other people were probably more aware of that than Belle was. Another finger flutter. “Will Scarlet,” he said, “not a murderer, only a little concerned that you might be—”

“—You were late.” “And I apologize for that, but you can blame Cap. Who missed a wide-open breakaway three minutes before we were about to get off the ice and Arthur lost his mind.” “Sounds dramatic.” “You’ve got no idea. Are you going to shake my hand because my arm is getting kind of tired.” Belle lifted her eyebrows. Kept smiling. More like a normal person, she hoped. A semi-charmed person. Who almost forgot where they were standing and how long the line to pay whatever you want at the Museum of Natural History always was. His hand wasn’t nearly as cold as she expected it to be. 

That probably wasn’t important.

“Belle French,” she said, “shouldn’t you have better upper-body strength?”

His smile was a bit softer, that time. Not quite resigned, but she was struggling to come up with appropriate syntax and neither one of them had tried to pull their hand away. “I’ve got incredible upper-body strength,” Will promised, leaning forward and he smelled a bit like soap, “you should what I can do on skates, though.” Flushing was ridiculous. Blushing, too. Any synonym. 

Still holding hands. 

“Do you think this is working for you?” “I’m trying very hard.” “Yeah, I can tell.” “Oh wow,” he chuckled, finally disentangling their fingers, and that was fine. Totally fine. Belle didn’t notice the absence of warmth, at all. Not instantly, or anything. “That’s kind of a knock to my self-confidence, honestly. Ariel didn’t mention you were mean.” “I’m not mean. What else did Ariel mention?” To suggest that his eyes actually had the gall to sparkle would be crazy. They didn’t sparkle. Were biologically incapable of doing that. 

But Belle swore something else happened, and it might have just been in the general region of her heart. Stuttering and restarting, at double time. As if it were intent on impersonating a hummingbird. 

“You’re very smart.” “That’s true,” Belle agreed. 

“Modest, too.” “Obviously, yeah, yeah.”

She wanted to keep making him laugh. Wanted him to keep smiling at her and leaning forward, even if his hair wasn’t quite long enough to artfully fall across his forehead. She wondered if his shoulders looked as good when he wasn’t wearing the leather jacket. 

So, insanity was fun to experience, then. 

“This is the part where you tell me what Ariel said about me, babe.”

Belle’s eyebrows jumped. Soared. Flew off her forehead. “You really do thinking this working, huh?” “My self-confidence is a sham, Ariel thinks I’m lonely, my teammates are dumb, and I’m willing to pay full price for this museum so we can also see the 3D movie about the giant monster shark.” “Megalodon is a real thing that was part of a mass marine extinction, potentially caused by a supernova that really messed up the rest of Earth.” “Telling me that is not going to stop me from calling it monster shark,” Will promised. Belle thought it was a promise. Sounded like one. 

She was admittedly a little hung up on the lonely thing. 

“I can work with monster shark.”

Will beamed. Did something passably ridiculous with his eyebrows and the slight shake of his head, and neither one of them mentioned the hand thing. How they reached for the other on what already felt like habit, twisting between bags and tourists and it took less time to get in when they paid full price. Plus twenty-nine ninety-nine for the monster shark movie. Per ticket. 

And they walked. Wandered. Took their time through exhibits, conversation that wasn’t exactly ground-breaking, but was just as easy, tilting their heads back in tandem to stare at massive fossils and partially-finished dinosaur structures. 

“So,” Will drawled, not taking his eyes off the Tyrannosaurs Rex, “tell me something.”

“About?” “You’re a librarian, right?” Belle nodded. “Not like—well, there’s not a lot of story-times. More research and entitled doctoral students who think the world revolves around them.”

“Bet you think athletes are super great then, huh?” “Ariel didn’t force me here against my will,” Belle pointed out, getting another laugh for her pitiful comedic efforts. Pulling his gaze away from the exhibit, Will didn’t quite smile, but he wasn’t glaring and her stomach hadn’t returned to its correct spot yet. “Why’d you pick Museum of Natural History?” “I’m more than just a pretty face.”

She rolled her eyes. Continued to be very charmed. “I did work in a small town once, but it didn’t end great, lots of drama, lots of dead mom, overprotective dad, bad relationships.” “How bad is bad?” “Thinking of dropping gloves with my ex-boyfriend?” Twinkling eyes were impossible too, she was sure. Will’s appeared determined to prove her wrong. “You looked up terminology.” “Sounds suspiciously like an accusation.” “Nah,” he shook his head, “a cautiously optimistic assumption.” “For the life of me, I cannot figure out what icing is.”

He ran his hand over the back of his head. That wasn’t the first time, either. Belle might have been doing research. Keeping track, more like. “Not many people can at the start,” Will said, “have you gotten to offsides yet? My national championship?” “You won a national championship?” Narrowing his eyes wasn’t an explicit challenge. Felt like one, all the same. One Belle wasn’t just willing to reach for. Wanted to reach. And that was—strange, actually. She hadn’t felt like that in a very long time, had been sitting at the same desk for the better part of the last ten months, waiting for something worthy of researching and figuring out and she wasn’t lying about icing. Sometimes it didn’t happen? And that frustrated people? 

On the ice, and in the stands. Based on the videos she’d watched. 

That sounded psychopathic too. 

“What happened with the ex?” “He wanted to get married,” Belle said, forced casualness that didn’t do anything to the thin-type nature of Will’s eyes. “Dad wanted us to get married.” “And you didn’t?” She shook her head. “I’ve got things to do.” “Like read up on my national championship?” “Google black holes are real things.” “Oh, you’ll get no argument from me,” Will grinned, another chuckle and she was starting to pick up on the variety in his laughter. Genuine, now. “But searching your name only led to your Columbia faculty page, most of which I knew already from grilling Ariel because I was worried about getting stabbed in public, I’m real famous you know.” “Hockey is not as popular as you think it is.” His hand was too big, Belle thought. Could wrap all the way around her fingers, warm and somehow almost comforting, tugging her away from this massive dinosaur toward a slightly smaller dinosaur that didn’t eat other dinosaurs several million years ago. 

She didn’t pull away. “Anyway,” Will added pointedly, “your faculty page left a lot to be desired, but a slightly older article from the York County Coast Star informed me that you did Kennebunk High School proud once by winning Best Delegate at a Model United Nation’s Conference.” She’d have to stop blushing eventually. As it was, Belle’s face was blistering and her mouth had fallen open at some point. Likely right around the time that the ends of Will’s lips also started to quirk up. 

“Stalking is a serious crime.” “Curiosity, however, is not. Plus, A didn’t know about Model UN. What was your position?” “A lacks a bit of creativity on the nickname front, don’t you think?” Belle asked, not totally desperate to change the subject.

Will lifted a shoulder. “Usually we like to add an r to last names, or a y. Depends on the last syllable, more than anything.” “Who is this we exactly?” “Hockey players as a whole.” “Right, right, so that would make me—” “—Frenchy, yeah,” Will nodded. “Doesn’t seem to fit, though. Also possibly offensive?” Belle laughed. Giggled, a little. Kept blushing and ignoring the unstable state of her heart and she hadn’t been expecting him to be so—

Charming. Legitimately and entirely charming. Full of simple banter, like it didn’t require any extra effort on his part. She was glad for that. He kept rubbing the side of his hip, too. Probably took a check during practice. She’d really spent a long time researching terminology. 

“I served as a judge on the United Nation’s International Court of Justice.”

Letting out a low whistle, Will actually widened his eyes. With legitimate awe. She was going to combust before this was over. This date. This going very well date. “I’m sorry about the ex.” “You don’t have to punch him in the face.” “Good to know.”

She hummed. Looked back at the dinosaur in front of them so she wouldn’t be so tempted to ask about lonely and what that meant, and that lasted for all of twenty-six minutes. Give or take. 

Belle hadn’t taken her phone out of her pocket once.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He didn’t totally stiffen. They’d moved off the dinosaur floor, standing in an offshoot of the lobby and another long line with more kids than Belle expected. She should have. No one appreciated long-extinct monster sharks more than kids. 

So, Will didn’t totally stiffen. His lips all but disappeared, though. Became a thin line on a head that was back at an angle, with a tongue that poked noticeably against one of his cheeks. 

“College girlfriend,” he said, voice turning gruff, “dated the entire time I was there, wore my jersey to the title game. All that cliche bullshit. Graduated, New York had my rights, and suddenly the world was our oyster, right?” “Rhetoric?” He lifted the other shoulder. Than the one from before. Keeping track of that was crazy, crazy, easy. “A little,” Will admitted, “because New York had my rights, but not an immediate need for a defenseman, and the AHL is a grind. Shitty barns of arenas and not much glamor on multi-state bus trips. Game after game, trying to prove you deserve the call that’s gonna change everything, only it took too long for mine to come. Least for Ana. She wanted—well, fuck if I know what she wanted, really. But it wasn’t me, and it wasn’t waiting and there were plenty of other guys in the league who started at the top. Who also thought she had the prettiest smile of anyone in the room.”

Jealousy was not a normal reaction. And wasn’t really what was happening. Not entirely, at least. 

Belle would tell herself that at least forty-seven times in the next twenty-four minutes. Because her stomach was flipping, making it difficult to take a deep breath when she noticed the resigned look in Will’s suddenly dull eyes and he was supposed to be an idiot. Was supposed to be a stereotype, unable to find anything interesting about the Hall of North American Forests, but he made jokes about stuffed birds and was serious about seeing the monster shark and Ariel was going to be absolutely insufferable about all of this. 

“What’s the deal with your shirt?” Will’s head tilted even more. “Because it’s team-branded?” “Technical term?” “Now we’re going in circles, babe.” “Get more creative nicknames.”

The spark returned. Fluttered in the very center of eyes that met Belle’s without a hint of trepidation of concern regarding her potential murder tendencies. Not that she had any. He’d looked her up, too. “I’ll see what I can do,” Will muttered, “and it’s a real problem for me. Get free shirt, have to wear free shirt, see no reason to buy other shirts.” “Or proper sentence structure, it seems.” “This is working.” “Is it?” He nodded, following the line as it started to move into the theater. “I think so, yeah. You ready to learn about this giant fish?” “Sharks are fish, that’s true.” “See,” Will grinned, lacing his fingers through his, “totally working.”

Neither one pulled their hands away. Even as the theater lights dimmed, and she couldn’t remember the last time she wore 3D glasses, but the effects were at least fairly good because she jumped no less than three times, Will’s soft chuckle echoing between her ears each time. 

His thumb tapped. Found a rhythm against the side of her wrist that stayed even after the movie was over, and his excitement rivaled the loudest and most sugar-filled kids, an unspoken agreement to spend at least thirty-four minutes in the gift shop. 

He bought her a stuffed shark. 

“For intimidation purposes,” Will explained, thrusting an arm toward the sidewalk. Belle didn’t smile. She tried. Sort of. And the cab stopped almost immediately. “You’re impressed.” “Keep telling me how I’m feeling, please.” “This is New York, danger lurking on every corner and whatnot. Requirements of a gentleman mean I have to deposit the fair lady back at her door.” “Or you lose your membership card?”

“Matching jackets, God, keep up.”

She slid into the backseat next to him. And it wasn’t like she was expecting a kiss, honestly. Wouldn’t have said no, probably. But this was—

New and a little exciting, and Ariel was going to be so annoying. 

So, they sat. Kept talking, which was still somehow effortless. Even with the cloud of potential kissing and lives that weren’t remotely similar, and Belle still had a lot of hockey-based questions. About teammates and their opinions because Will had mentioned that too, but she wasn’t a total snoop or willing to be that level of stubborn quite yet. Maybe, like, second date stubborn. 

They were at her building, anyway. 

Stumbling out of the cab was not the picture of cool Belle had been hoping for. Snow landed on her shoulders and clung to the ends of her hair, a storm that started somewhere between Central Park West and East 29th Street, and she knew Will did not leave anywhere near here. He got out, anyway. 

Stood on the sidewalk before trailing her toward the door, her stuffed shark safe from the elements in the bag hanging from her shoulder. “So, that was—”

“I had a really good time with—”

Her shoulders sagged. Dropped in tandem with Belle’s sigh and the stretch of her smile, refusing to let her teeth dig into her lower lip. Will dragged his hand over the back of his head. “A’s going to be so annoying about this.” Tension disappeared. Melted faster than the snow was capable of, Belle’s teeth only appearing when she smiled that wide. “Because you think it worked, huh?”

“Working on that self-confidence, you see,” Will said, hovering on the bottom step and her lips were tingling. With anticipation and hope and the knowledge of how much a cab back uptown was going to cost him. 

He surprised her, of course. 

Flipping his wrist, Will’s fingers fluttered once. Silent invitation hung between them, and Belle didn’t think. Didn’t consider options or potential blow-ups, no sign of a pro and con list. It’d be weird to find one on her front step, anyway. 

She dropped her hand into his. 

Still warm, still capable of holding all of hers, the soft pull at the end of her arm didn’t stop until Will’s lips grazed her bent knuckles and stayed there. For the next eight seconds. She counted. Timed it up with the solid thud of her heart against her chest and the propensity of her knees to bend beneath her. In order to accommodate everything she was feeling. 

Too much. 

Not enough. 

“I had fun, ma moitié,” Will said, leaving her brain whirring for a translation. 

“This might be working.” He scrunched his nose when he nodded. “Smarter than I look, that’s why. Keep the shark guy nearby, he’ll make sure danger stays outside where it belongs.”

Belle wanted to say something. Wanted it to be cute and passably witty, enough that there would be a second date so she could be more stubborn, only her tongue wasn’t functioning and she was so close to falling over it was honestly embarrassing. 

Will’s eyebrows jumped again. 

Before he did. Off the steps and back to the waiting cab, taillights not much more than a reflection of snowflakes before Belle was scrambling for her phone. Her fingers shook a little. 

“Ma moitié, ma moitié, ma moitié,” she chanted. It turned into a gasp. As soon as Google returned with its translation. 

My half. 

Whatever sound tumbled out of her was neither cute nor entirely human, heart turning unstable again and the shark looked especially good sitting between the pillows of Belle’s bed. The same one she dropped onto with a laptop propped against her knees so she could figure out how the hell icing worked. 

[caretaker-au]

Kindness & Justice: Backstory

The two adolescent girls huddled around a small campfire in the twilight, trying to finish their dinner before nightfall. The tall cook poured the remains of pancake batter into the cast iron pan, mentally crossing her fingers that this one wouldn’t stick as bad as the previous one did. 

“This is the last one,” the cook said, “You want it?”

“No, that one is all yours,” her friend answered between mouthfuls. She didn’t have a fork, so she had rolled up the pancake like a burrito. At some point, her black cowboy hat had fallen off her head and hung against her back by the drawstring. It was her latest attempt at bringing Western wear back into vogue. “I shouldn’t have teased you for packing all that kitchen stuff. This turned out way better than I expected.”

“Worth it?” the cook asked with a grin.

“Worth it,” the shorter girl smiled. She finished off her food and stretched, moving her hat so she could lay down by the fire. The pink-streaked clouds floated overhead. It was warm enough that the fire was a little bit uncomfortable, but it didn’t seem right to lay anywhere else.

“So…” the cowgirl ventured, “You ready to talk about what happened with your folks?”

“Ugh, not really,” she answered, prodding at the batter with the spatula, “But, after working so hard to cheer me up, I suppose you’ve earned the right to know... Mom and Dad cornered me about their suspicions, and I told them the truth about us. Well, not about us, exactly, I left you out of it. I told them about me.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t take it too well.”

“I mean, they took it about as well as expected. Shouting, some crying, the whole works. Kept saying it was their fault, but that didn’t stop them from blaming me anyway.” The cook glanced at her friend, and saw her scowling. “It really wasn’t that bad though,” she added, “I mean, it could have been a lot worse, I’m pretty lucky, when you think about it.”

“Are you kidding me?” she sat up, her face incredulous, “Your parents are the lucky ones for having a daughter like you! They don’t deserve you, and you don’t deserve to be treated like a mistake. The unfairness of it all, it just--” she clenched the fabric of her skirt, stumbling over her words, “Once we get back to the city, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t…” the tall girl said, her voice falling low, “I know it’s not your style, but I want you to try to be nice to them.” The cowgirl rolled her eyes, so she continued with a bit of forced smile, “Not for them but for me, okay?”

The short friend sighed, “Okay, for you. Is that thing done cooking yet?”

In response, the cook jerked the pan, masterfully flipping the pancake over. One side was a perfect golden brown. “Just a little bit longer now.”

The cowgirl sat up, surveying the campsite. The two of them had never been camping before, and the hike had been much harder than either of them had anticipated. It didn’t help that they had over-packed and had to cut their climb a bit short as a result. Nonetheless, the clear warm night and birds chirping in the trees made the escape feel almost as magical as the girls had hoped for. A quiet sanctuary where no people would be around: well, most likely no people, that is. 

“Hey, speaking of miserable family members,” the short girl ventured, “Did I ever tell you about the skeleton in my family’s closet?”

“This better not be one of your weird scary horror stories.”

“It sure is!” she answered. The cowgirl jumped to her feet, clearing her voice in preparation for the tale, “Listen to this: when my grandpa was a little kid, his brother tried to murder him.”

“How very ‘Cain and Abel’,” the cook smirked, “You can’t just start there. Start at the beginning of the story. What lead up to it?”

“That’s just it, no one really knows. Everyone says he just snapped and went crazy when the two of them were home alone. Grandpa was just happily playing video games at the time, so maybe his brother wanted a turn.”

“That… doesn’t seem like a very compelling motive,” the cook said, checking the underside of her pancake, “Are you sure your grandpa’s not exaggerating?”

“It’s the truth!” the cowgirl insisted, “His brother attacked him and cracked his head against the coffee table. They found gramps in a puddle of blood in the living room, and he had to be rushed to the hospital and got six stitches! But I still haven’t gotten to the best part.” The girl paused for dramatic effect.

“Best or worst?” the cook lifted the whole pancake with her spatula and tested a small bite on the edge. It was still too hot to eat.

“The best part is…” the cowgirl swept her arm towards the dimly lit forest around them, “His brother fled to this very mountain. And he was never found again.”

“What?” the girl dropped her pancake on the ground. She quickly snapped it up and set it back in the pan. Dirt and ash was stuck to it.

“Five second rule,” the cowgirl murmured. 

“Did you just say your grandpa--”

“Great uncle.”

“--your great uncle ran away to this mountain and died?”

“Disappeared. Maybe he still roams this mountain, searching for more innocent children to send to their graves…” The short girl’s voice was dramatic, but her eyes were dancing with mischief.

“Are you kidding me, that’s so creepy! And to think coming here was your idea! Was this all a set up to scare me?” The cook crossed her arms, but her friend just laughed.

“No, no! To be honest, I didn’t realize this particular trail was a part of The Mount Ebott until we were on our way.”

“A likely story,” the cook murmured as she nibbled the edge of her pancake.

“It’ll be fine, really. Oh, I know--I have something to protect you from any undead uncles. Check this out!” the cowgirl skipped towards their yellow tent and unzipped her backpack that was laying in front of it. She withdrew a long leather holster, with a revolver already tucked inside it.

The tall girl’s jaw dropped open, “You brought your dad’s gun?!”

“Maybe,” she giggled, strapping the holster around her waist, “It will be my gun in a few years, I’m just borrowing it a little early.”

“Do you even know how to use one of those things?”

“Yeah, yeah, I shoot it every year on my birthday. Family tradition.” the gunslinger drew her weapon, pointing it out towards the woods.

“Don’t--”

“It’s okay, it’s not loaded,” she said, popping open the cylinder, “The ammo’s in my bag.”

The cook shook her head, “And I thought my family was crazy.”

The cowgirl spun the gun around her finger and holstered the weapon with practiced flourish. She spoke with an exaggerated drawl, “Don’t worry, darlin’, this lone ranger will defend you from any murderin’ spectral horrors.”

“Stop it! You’re awful!” the cook laughed, before taking another bite of her food. It wasn’t as dirty as she thought, and she swallowed a few more bites before stuffing the rest in her mouth.

“You hear that?” the lone ranger put a hand to her ear, “It won’t be safe for long, we best be getting to bed before the devil finds us.”

“Oh please, that’s enough, Calamity Jane.”

“I prefer the name--”

She was cut off by the sharp crack of a snapped branch. The gunslinger stilled, turning in the direction of the noise, “What was that?”

The tall girl huffed in response, “I said cut it out--" but the cowgirl shushed her, scanning the dense foliage around them. Her heart caught in her throat as she saw a pair of eyes glinting from their firelight. A huge creature, larger than a man, was standing on two legs and peering into the camp from about two hundred feet away.

"There's--" the gunslinger's voice strained to form the words, "There's a bear."

The cook froze. She reached for her cast iron pan and held it with both hands. "What do we do?" she whispered.

The cowgirl shook her head. There weren't supposed to be bears in this area. According to her research, none had been seen for over a decade, which is why she hadn't bothered to look up how to defend against one. The bear dropped down to all fours, and they could hear it begin to huff and snarl.

"Get ready to run," she hissed. The cook stood, and the shorter girl eyed her backpack that held her ammunition. It was sitting at the foot of the tent, but she would have to go toward the monster to retrieve it. The bag was only fifteen feet away but it might as well have been fifteen miles. 

The two didn’t have a chance to decide when to act. With a roar, the bear lunged forward, crashing through the foliage as it charged. The cook shrieked, fleeing the camp, but the cowgirl did the opposite, sprinting towards her bag. She had almost reached it when the tent surged forward, collapsing on top of her in a wave of nylon and snapped metal supports. The gunslinger fell to her back and she pushed the tangle of tent away from her face, only to see the bear looming over her, separated only by the crushed tent. The girl shielded her face with her arms and braced herself for what was to come.

“Get away from her!” her friend screamed. She had returned, and had taken to bludgeoning the bear’s hindquarters with her pan. The bear twisted around and swiped a clawed paw towards her, but the cook jumped back, turning heel to run again. With a snarl, the bear released the cowgirl and chased its assailant. The gunslinger kicked the tangled tent off her legs and before she realized it she was chasing the bear, screaming obscenities and death threats. The cook was fast, but the bear was faster, and she lost sight of them both as they crested a small hill outside the camp. 

A blood curdling shriek filled the tree tops, followed by silence.

The gunslinger tore up the slope and hesitated when she reached the apex. Her friend was nowhere in sight, but the bear had already changed directions, loping back towards her. Her fingers reached for her gun, but she reminded herself it was still empty, and willed herself to retreat. The rapid thumping of the bear’s steps told her she wouldn’t make it to the camp before it caught up with her.

Overhead, the large branch of a cedar bowed over her. Leaping, the girl grabbed it and hoisted herself onto the branch before scrambling up the next. The bear was under the tree in an instant, stretching to full height to swipe at her. Its claw caught her foot, nearly yanking her out of the tree, but only managed to knock off her boot. The girl continued to climb, and the bear snapped off the lower branches, pushing against the trunk. The tree shuddered and flexed under the weight.

With one arm wrapped tight around a branch, the cowgirl pulled off her remaining boot and tossed it down. It bounced off the bear’s shoulder, who gave it a glance before turning its attention back to the girl. She whispered a prayer before unholstering her weapon, and threw the revolver at the monster. The gun crashed against the bear’s muzzle with an audible whack, and the bear pulled back from the tree, shaking its head. She held her breath as the bear paced around the tree before leaving in the direction of the camp. The dense canopy obstructed her view of it, but the tell tale sounds of the creature ripping through bags and crunching through supplies told her all she needed to know.

The girl settled onto the upper branches of the tree and wrapped her arms around the trunk. Against the odds, she was safe but trapped. Without a loaded gun, leaving the tree wasn’t a risk she could afford to take. To make matters worse, the last rays of twilight were fading away, cloaking the woods in frigid darkness. Her flashlight, phone, and ammunition were all at the camp, hidden under the destroyed tent. There was nothing she could do but wait it out.

***

Two hours elapsed before the bear left the camp. Another 30 minutes went by before the gunslinger felt safe enough to crawl down from the tree. Her fingers and toes were frozen and her legs ached as she collected her gun and put her boots back on. However, she didn’t have the luxury to pity herself. Through the dark, she crept back to where the campfire once was and strained her eyes in the dim moonlight for the remains of the tent. It had been dragged a good distance away, destroyed beyond use. She was relieved to find her backpack still twisted up inside, and rifled through the contents. She flicked on her flashlight and put it in the crook of her neck as she loaded her gun. Only six bullets, just enough to show it off to her friend.

If only she had loaded it earlier, then that monster would have got what it deserved.

The lone ranger returned to the camp and cast her flashlight across the ransacked carnage. Clothes and supplies were strewn throughout the foliage, and all that remained of the food were shredded cans and crushed boxes. Even the cooking utensils had been mutilated with gnaw marks. Rage boiled inside her.

The forest looked very dizzyingly similar at night, and she found herself walking in circles, ending up back at the camp again and again. Finally, she accurately identified the hill she had last seen her friend and was surprised to discover a steep drop of about twenty feet not far from it, jagged granite boulders resting at the base. There she found her first lead. A conspicuous dark splatter against the white rocks: blood.

The small girl shouted her friend’s name, but there was no response. She climbed down the steep surface of the cliff side at a much slower pace than her friend would have been afforded. The blood was no longer fresh, but she could see the direction it led before the ground cover became more soil than stone. She followed the trail.

The ferns and ivy lashed across her torn stockings, but she continued forward, right hand hovering over her weapon. She stopped at the entrance of a cave yawning out of the mountainside. It looked both parts refuge and trap. Didn’t bears live in caves?

She called out her friend’s name again, but was answered only with a faint echo. At least it was better than the growl of bears. She shined her light across the back of the cave and could see the tunnel curved, making it impossible to see how deep it was. As she traced the floor with the light, something sparkled. The gunslinger ventured forward and pinched it between her fingers: a hair pin, with a small crystal embedded at the end. The last time she had seen it was in her friend’s hair. She had been here.

The cowgirl huffed out a shuddering sigh, and she couldn’t tell if it was from relief or a renewed sense of dread. If her friend had been here, where was she now?

The child took a deep breath and stepped deeper into the cave.

kindness and justice: backstory // end

[ ✧ START ] [ « BACK ] [ NEXT CHAPTER » ]

[seaquestions]

i think it finally just Hit me that. i wasted my entire seventeenth year. the entirety of me being seventeen. was spent like That. it wasn’t even necessary, not like Now, i was just. in such an awful state that i didn’t go out of my apartment or talk to anyone for a whole year with Very few exceptions. not even my parents really.. my dad only came home to sleep and my mom dropped off food and left, cos they were dealing with their own shit. and i was fresh outta high school... you never think about your youth in the moment. im not 20 just yet! still a teen, technically. i’ll age some more, look back on this year when i’m 25 and think about how young i was, again when i’m 35, again when i’m 40, again and again until i die. but still. maybe it’s just the symbolism, but seventeen feels like such a tragic age to have lost entirely...

maybe i’m way too hung up on it. it wasn’t All bad surely... i mean i got into transformers. there were some positive bits. positive bits being “my mom had me go and get groceries with her and this is the first time i’ve been out in months, its nice”. but i remember feeling like i was rotting. not even that i was dying, but that i was already dead. and, i dunno, spending the last year you have before you‘re labelled an adult thinking yourself as a rotting corpse just feels. unfair. i want to take it back so bad. not just my seventeenth year, all of it. my whole childhood. i’m buying toys for myself; i wanna go to an amusement park sometime. i’ve been watching cartoons and movies and playing video games with friends, i’ve never done that before. it feels so nice. i’m Not where i was 2-3 years ago. maybe it feels like it sometimes because i’m all cooped up but i have friends. i’m working towards things. it’s not ideal but i feel like a living human being and thats more than enough for me.

[mizumelona]

set me up | atsumu x reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re an ambitious career woman, who’s got everything…except a significant other. Your mom, sick of you showing up to family functions alone, sets you up on a series of (terrible) blind dates. You make these dates meet you at your favorite restaurant, Onigiri Miya, but for some reason the owner’s jerk of a twin brother always happens to be there exactly when things crash and burn.

NOTE: Did I stay up too late writing this? Possibly. Was it worth it? Yes. This final arc was loosely inspired by some hc’s I requested from lin at @sugardaddykenma​, so this chapter and the next are dedicated to her. ily haha.

MASTERLIST

PREV | IS THIS A DATE? | NEXT

TAGLIST: @awkwardali6106​ @kasandrafaye​ @veggytaled​ @svtbitch​ @stinkyobeymerat​ @hollypastl​ @differentballooncollection​ @o51oc​ @sunboikyo00 @justxanotherxshipper​ @kaisemieita @rizamendoza808 @tomo-uwu​ @sugardaddykenma​ @celinafeng @ravioliplease​ @thatpersonwithissues​ @humanbobjeanpants​ @suteorra​ @jh-bee​

~

Outside Sendai Stadium. FRIDAY 9:05PM

Unlike her prickly personality, [y/n]’s hand was warm. Atsumu’s foul mood from losing the game had already blown over, but he didn’t feel like letting go and she hadn’t shaken him off either. Either she was really an airhead and hadn’t noticed or more likely she knew and didn’t mind. He brought his free hand up to his face to cover his smile.

He thought back to her failed dates. Knowing her personality, it wasn’t surprising that she was struggling in the romance department. This girl had the kinda ego that made an average guy retreat. But Atsumu Miya wasn’t an average guy. He admired the way she was hot-headed and shameless, and he’d be lying if he said the way she confidently took shots at him didn’t stir up some kind of feeling.

Atsumu chuckled.

“What’re you laughing at?”, she turned to him with that cute teasing look that suited her far more than any demure smile.

“Nothin’”

~

You looked up at Atsumu confused. He’d started laughing to himself out of the blue. What a weirdo.

Atsumu’s stomach rumbled.

You snickered. “Haven’t eaten yet?”

“Nah. Eatin’ before games doesn’t really work for me.”

You nodded in response. “Want to grab some food then?”

“Yeah. I’m starvin’. I know a really good curry restaurant near here. Wanna go?”

“Sounds good. Don’t tell Osamu, but I’m getting a little tired of onigiri.”

“Hah. No promises sweetheart.”

“Jeez. Can’t count on you for anything can I?”

“Well if you’re askin’ I guess I could make an exception. Oh, it’s this way.” Atsumu pulled you in the opposite direction you were headed down a sidewalk path that was warmly lit by street lamps. His grip was still firm in yours.

“Ah here it is”, Atsumu stopped in front of a little shop with a warm aroma wafting out through the open front door. You two walked in and found an open table. The waiter stopped by to take your orders before disappearing into the kitchen.

Suddenly, something occurred to you. Wasn’t this kind of like…a date? Your face got warm thinking about it.

Soon the waiter returned with two plates of steaming katsu curry. Atsumu must’ve been starving because he quickly shoveled down spoonful after spoonful without stopping to talk. So this is the post-game appetite of a pro-athlete. Lol, date my ass.

“Ahh, that was great”, he said as he scraped the last of the curry off the plate. He gulped down the last of his water and let out a satisfied sigh, before leaning on his hand and looking at you. “So, what d’ya wanna do sweetheart?”

“Mm?” You hummed mid-spoonful of curry.

“You seemed pretty confident when you called me out earlier. What didja have in mind?”, He had his signature devious look. So troublesome.

You gulped your food down. “You already look like you’re in a good mood to me.”

“You don’t know that.” He crossed his arms and put on a faux melancholy look. “C’mon I can tell you and I are alike when it comes to this kinda thing. A plateful of curry isn’t enough to live down our losses”

You scoffed. “Our losses?”

“Plus we’re already here. Might as well do something.”

He had a point.

“Well…what do you like to do to blow off steam?”

“Eat.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“We just did that.”

“Play volleyball”

“Aren’t you tired of that for tonight?”

“No. Not at all”, His answer was matter-of-fact, like it was obvious. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of it.” He smiled. It was reminiscent of that childish grin he had when you saw him serve earlier.

You couldn’t help but smile back. “You must love it huh?”

“Nothin’ I love more.” His eyes were glimmering. His passion was almost tangible. You were taken aback.

“…I really respect that.” You shared your honest thoughts. Atsumu’s eyes went wide. He ruffled his hair.

“Woah. Two compliments from you? In one night? That’s unbelievable.”

“Hah.” You sighed. “I’m serious though. Having a passion. Madly chasing after it. That’s cool.”

“I dunno why you sound so amazed. Aren’t we the same when it comes to this kinda thing?”

You raised your eyebrows. “What makes you say that?”

He scoffed. “You’re tryna convince me that the workaholic chick that stays up all night designing shit and wins awards for her apps isn’t crazy passionate about what she does?”

It was your turn to be surprised. You’d been so fixated on how badly your love life had been going lately that you’d been letting it get to your confidence. But he was right. At the end of the day, you were one hardworking, passionate, badass bitch. You couldn’t hide your grin.

“Oh? Weak to compliments huh?”, He interrupted your thoughts.

“Shut up. I just didn’t expect to hear that from you”

The waiter came back with the check, which you and Atsumu split evenly. You both gathered your belongings and walked out the door.

“Wait a second”, Atsumu turned to you. “We never actually decided what we wanted to do.”

“Oh right”, You both stood awkwardly. You didn’t want to go home just yet, but you didn’t know what to do. You glanced around for ideas and spotted the glow of a vending machine in the distance. “Wanna grab a drink from the vending machine over there while we decide?”

“Sure.”, Atsumu said with a shrug. You both walked over to the vending machine and paused looking at the options. You spotted your favorite drink then started rummaging around in your bag looking for change.

“I can cover it”, Atsumu said and reached into his bag and pulled out a chubby froggy coin purse. It was surprisingly cute. He opened it up. “Whatcha want?”

“That’s a real cute coin purse. Not something that I’d expect you to have”

“Oh this?”, He held it up. “It was a birthday present from my granny”

“And you still carry it around? That’s even more cute.”

He rolled his eyes. “Ya gettin’ anythin’?”

“I’ll get a peach juice”

“One peach juice comin’ right up.” He dropped some coins into the machine and pressed two buttons. Your drinks fell down the chute with a clunk. He handed yours to you. You plopped down on a nearby bench and opened your drink with a satisfying pop. Atsumu sat down to join you.

You both sipped your drinks in silence, just looking out at the street. A few weeks ago, you never would’ve thought you’d be sitting here with Atsumu. You recalled the way you’d clashed at your first meeting, the spilled juice and the sweater on your second date, and the way he’d stuck around with you in the restaurant yesterday. You hadn’t known him for all that long, but somehow he was comfortable to be around. It was like you could be your greediest, nastiest, most shameless self and he wouldn’t look at you weird for it. Knowing Atsumu, he’d probably throw an even more shameless, petty comment back.

You turned to look at him. The glow of the vending machine illuminated his face, defining its contours. Again, it was like your stomach was filled with butterflies. Perhaps noticing your lingering gaze, Atsumu turned to look at you too.

“Thanks again”, A gentle smile formed on his lips. “Y’know, for coming to talk to me after the game.”

“No problem.” You shook your head. “I wasn’t lying when I said you looked cool tonight. Even if you didn’t win, I’d say you were pretty charming.”

He let out a playful chuckle. “Jeez if ya keep complimenting me like that I’m gonna fall for ya.”

You tossed your hair. “Like you aren’t already majorly crushing on me”

“How’d ya figure it out?”

You paused looking at him. He said it with his usual teasing tone, but why did he look sincere. Usually teasing him came easily, but right now you couldn’t think of any witty comeback. You tried to hit the breaks on the wave of butterflies rioting in your stomach, but couldn’t help but wonder. What if…

You had a thought. A stupid thought. A thought that you usually would’ve easily shot down. Maybe you were still sleep-deprived, maybe there was something in the curry, maybe the way he was looking at you was getting to you. You turned to Atsumu.

“Hey, Atsumu. I have a crazy idea.”

“Oh? What is it?”, he cocked his head to the side. It was absolutely unfair how handsome he looked while doing it.

You focused your last sane brain cell in trying to sound clever. “So…You’re petty. I’m petty. Wanna do something petty together?”

“Interestin’” He smirked. “What didja have in mind?”

This was a stupid idea. You couldn’t believe you were suggesting it. He was looking at you expectantly. It was too late to back out now.

“I have a family brunch with that shitty cousin I told you about next Sunday. What do you think of coming as my plus one to flex on him?”

“Oh-“

“Just for that day, could you pretend to be my boyfriend?”, You quickly clarified. 

You weren’t sure what his feelings were. You weren’t even sure about what yours were, and even if you did you weren’t about to ask him to a family brunch on your first date. You just thought that if it was with Atsumu, maybe doing something stupid and petty like this might be fun.

His initial look of shock quickly devolved into a sly grin.

“A Fake date huh? Leave it to you to come up with somethin’ like that.” He shook his head. “What’s in it for me?”

“You get a chance to be shamelessly petty without consequence. Do you need anything more than that?”

“You’re gonna have to spice up the deal sweetheart”

“Ugh I know it’s kinda crazy if you don’t want to do it nevermin-“

“Woah woah. I never said I wasn’t interested. ” He held up his hands. “Fine it’s a deal, but if you’re askin’ for my help we aren’t half assin’ it”

A devious toothy grin spread across his face. Oof. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“I don’t like that look”

“First of all”, He held up a finger. “I’ll drive you there.”

That’s all? You let out a sigh of relief. “That wasn’t as bad as I was expectin-“

“Second of all”, he cut you off, “all PDA is fair game”,

You scoffed. “Excuse me? It’s a family function!”

“Do ya wanna put on a convincing act or what?”

“…fine”, You mumbled. “But kisses are off-limits!”

“What! Ya hafta gimme somethin’ to work with here”

This boy was really pushing his luck. He did have a point though. You thought about it for a second.

“Fine. Forehead and cheek kisses are okay” You yielded. “I’m not compromising beyond that though.”

“Okay that works, but if you wanna have a lil more of this just lemme know sweetheart”, he said with a wink.

“Keep dreaming lemon boy”, You stuck out your tongue. Atsumu frowned at the nickname.

“Again with the nicknames…actually, speakin’ of nicknames don’t ya think we should have some cute pet names for each other”

“Don’t you dare call me babe”

He took up a thinking position with his hand on his chin. “Honey? Sweetie?”, he tested a few out. Something about it felt weird like you’d convince yourself it wasn’t an act if he kept calling you that. That wouldn’t be good.

“Just call me sweetheart like you usually do”, you suggested.

“Oho has it grown on ya?”, he raised an eyebrow.

“What if it has?”

Atsumu’s witty comeback was stopped in its tracks. A pink haze appeared across his cheeks.

“Jeez what’s with you today?”, he said with a chuckle.

“You started it first.” You replied. “Also you aren’t the only one with ideas for this thing. I’m the one who’s had to put up with this shit for who knows how many years now.” Your mouth twisted into a sly smile.

“You sure can be scary sometimes sweetheart…I like it. So what are ya thinking?”

“So I here’s the plan…”

~

You two spent a solid hour talking through your plan before Atsumu finally drove you home. As you gathered your things to walk into the apartment complex, Atsumu turned to you.

“Hey. Today was a lotta fun. Let’s do it again sometime. Except next time I won’t lose.”

“Okay. Okay. Thanks again for the ride. See you later.”

You went upstairs and started your bedtime routine. Your phone buzzed as you got into bed. You picked it up and smiled as you saw the message.

Lemon Boy:

Did you make it up safely?

Shameless Wench:

Yeah. Gonna go to bed now.

Lemon Boy:

Okay. Good night y/n.

~

Your Apartment. SUNDAY 9:36AM.

Your doorbell rang.

“One second!”, you shouted, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. You ran over and pulled the door open. Atsumu leaned on the doorframe with a smirk.

“Let’s do this thing sweetheart”

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, halehathnofury!

For @halehathnofury. You said you like fluff, high school au's, and magical Stiles so I incorporated some of that in here. Hope you enjoy it. Happy Holidays! 💖

Read On AO3

*****

All Stiles can think as he looks out at the snow covered ground as it blurs past is that this is going to be the worst winter break ever. Even worse than the one he spent sick at home. Because at least then he'd been home and able to see his friends once he'd been well enough.

Now, he's going to be stuck in some cabin in the middle of nowhere because his parents thought it would be good for them to all get away and take a vacation together.

He loves his parents, he does, but he'd had plans for winter break. And those plans hadn't involved being thousands of miles away from his friends and close to freezing to death.

“This is the worst,” Stiles mutters as he follows his parents out of the jeep.

His dad sighs from the back and tosses his bag at him. “You’re being just a bit dramatic, son.”

“Yeah well you’re not the one who had all your plans uprooted at the last minute,” Stiles tells him.

His dad raises an eyebrow, “You didn’t even have any plans. You just said you were going to lay around and play video games with Scott.”

“Those are plans!”

His dad closes the trunk and steps up to him. He looks around and lowers his voice. “Son, this means a lot to your mom, alright? She’s been sad about you going off to college next year and has it in her head you’re never going to come back. I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend Christmas, but can you just suck it up for her? Please?”

Stiles is hit with a wave of guilt. He’d been so wrapped up in how much it sucked for him, he hadn’t thought about what it meant to his mom. He bites his lip and nods. “Yeah, okay.”

His dad claps a hand on his shoulder and turns him towards the cabin. “This is going to be fun. You’ll see.”

“If you say…” Stiles’ words die in his throat when the door to the cabin opens to reveal none other than Derek Hale smiling out at them. Derek, who has no right to look as attractive as he does in his stupid beanie and leather jacket, with a sweater with dancing snowmen on underneath. And god are those thumb holes? Stiles should just turn around and go faceplant in the snow and let nature take its course because there is no way he’s surviving this trip. Not with Derek looking this adorable. This is all really unfair, and the universe must have it out for him or something if it expects him to endure all this.

“You made it,” Derek says. He actually looks pleased about that too. As if there’s nothing in the world that makes him happier than seeing the Stilinski’s standing at the door to his family cabin.

“Yeah we got a little turned around for a moment thanks to all that snow, but we got here,” his dad says. He urges Stiles forward so he can step in behind him. “Didn’t Claudia come inside?”

“I don’t know, I just got down here,” Derek admits. He tilts his head. “It sounds like she’s in the kitchen with my parents and Laura.”

The sheriff nods, “Well then, just show us to our rooms and I’ll get these put away.”

“Nonsense,” Derek says. “Stiles and I can handle the bags. You go relax.”

Stiles watches as his dad hesitates, looking between Stiles and Derek. “You’re sure?”

Stiles sure as hell isn’t sure. He doesn’t exactly want to get stuck alone with Derek, but he told his dad he would suck it up, so he just purses his lips as Derek smiles and places a hand on his dad’s back, urging him towards the kitchen. “We’ve got it.”

“Well thank you,” his dad says. “I really could use some hot chocolate.”

“Not too much!” Stiles calls after him.

His dad ignores him and Stiles sighs. He kicks off his boots and shrugs out of his coat, before grabbing some of the bags. “Alright, lead the way.”

“Hello to you too Stiles,” Derek says.

“Yes, hi,” Stiles says. “The rooms?”

Derek raises an eyebrow, and Stiles doesn’t blame him. He is being a little short, and no doubt rude. But it’s for his own good. Derek doesn’t comment on it though. Just grabs the remaining bags and starts down to the hall, leaving Stiles to follow. “This way. Your room is going to be downstairs, and your parents upstairs.”

“Why do I feel like a little kid getting stuck with a broom closet?”

Derek snorts, “It’s a nice room, trust me, and it has a hell of a view.”

“Uh huh.”

“You haven’t even seen it yet,” Derek says over his shoulder. “Always so cynical.”

“I am not!”

“You are,” Derek says. He stops and pushes the door to one of the rooms open and then gestures for Stiles to step inside.

Stiles moves past him into the room, preparing to hate whatever he sees. Instead of seeing some tiny sparsely decorated room, he sees a room bigger than the one he has at home, fit with two beds on opposite walls. Stiles tilts his head, “Two beds?”

“Did I not mention we’d be rooming together?” Derek asks innocently.

Stiles turns to face him, his eyes wide. “What?”

“There’s only four rooms,” Derek says.

“And?”

“And my parents are taking one, then Laura, then your parents,” Derek says. “So unless you want to sleep on the couch…”

“I don’t.”

“Well neither do I,” Derek says. “So it looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”

“Yeah looks it,” Stiles mutters, looking around the room. He moves to the back, to where a door sits. It leads out to a small deck that looks out onto the lake. It is nice, Stiles admits. Although not out loud. He can’t have anyone thinking he actually likes it here.

“This is why this room is my favorite,” Derek says, stepping up next to him. “It has the best view in the whole cabin.”

Stiles shrugs, “It’s not bad.”

“Does anything make you happy?” Derek asks him.

Stiles frowns, “Of course.”

“I know this wasn’t ideal,” Derek says. “You had your plans. But…”

“What?”

Derek shrugs, “I don’t know. I was pretty happy when my parents said you were coming.”

“You were?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought it meant we could spend some time together,” Derek says. “Hang out.”

“You want to hang out with me?” Stiles asks. “But I thought you…”

“What?”

“I thought you hated me,” Stiles says.

“Why on earth would you think that?” Derek asks him.

“Because you never talk to me,” Stiles says, throwing his hands up.

“I do,” Derek says. “But you’re not always that… receptive. And…”

“What?”

Derek clears his throat, “Nothing. I’m just… I’m glad you’re here Stiles. And I hope you will be too.”

He takes the remaining bags and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Stiles is left standing next to the door, feeling more confused than ever.  What the hell was that?

Stiles plans to put his stuff away and then go find his parents, his dad’s words echoing in his head about how important this trip is to his mom. But he makes the mistake of sitting on the bed while texting Scott, which leads to him laying down. And before he knows it, his eyes are drifting closed.

He wakes suddenly, to the feeling of a hand on his arm. He sits up, his eyes glowing and hands out as he prepares to fight off any threat. Then he sees Derek, standing next to the bed with his own hands raised, and sporting a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Mom just sent me to get you for dinner. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me,” Stiles mutters.

“Uh huh. So you just go on the magic defense after every nap?”

Stiles can't fight back the urge to roll his eyes as he throws his legs over the side of the bed and sits up. "Only when I'm not in familiar territory. Which I'm not. Besides, I bet you wouldn't like someone shouting you awake either."

"I didn't shout," Derek argues.

“Oh yes you did!”

“No,” Derek says calmly. “I did not.”

“You did!”

“What’s with all the shouting?” Derek’s mother, Talia, asks. She’s standing at the door looking between the two of them.

Stiles shoots a triumphant smirk at Derek, “Told you.”

“Pretty sure she wasn’t talking about me, Stiles,” Derek says.

“I wasn’t,” Talia says. “Derek knows better than to raise his voice in a house full of wolves.”

“Any reason you were yelling at Derek?” Stiles’ dad asks.

“I wasn’t yelling at him,” Stiles says, making sure to keep his tone even. “We were just having a disagreement.”

“About?”

“About whether he was shouting when he woke me up,” Stiles says.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Talia says. “At least not until you started raising your voice.”

Derek’s the one to spot the triumphant grin now. Stiles rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah, smirk all you want. You still could have found a better way to wake me up.”

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” Derek says. “That wasn’t my intention.”

Stiles has two options here. One, he can accept Derek’s apology and apologize himself. Or two, he can ignore him and walk out of here and look like an asshole. And well, he never claimed not to be an asshole.

He rolls his eyes and starts towards the door, “Yeah sure buddy.”

“Stiles,” his dad warns.

Stiles sighs and tilts his head back, looking at the ceiling, “I’m sorry.” It would be easy to walk out of here and leave it at that. But when does he ever make things easy. “I’m sorry you don’t know how to wake people up. So maybe you should work on that.”

He leaves the room and heads down the hall. He realizes halfway down the hall he doesn��t actually know where the kitchen is, but it’s not hard to find his way, simply following the smell of food drifting towards him.

“Hi sweetheart,” his mother says, smiling over at him when he walks into the room. “Settling in okay?”

Stiles puts a smile on his face as he accepts the hug she gives him, “Yeah mom.”

“Seems you and Derek are getting along swell,” Laura says. Of course she’d have heard what had happened.

“Oh yeah, perfectly splendid,” Stiles says.

“I was hoping you would,” Laura says. “He is quite fond of you.”

“Laura,” Derek says, a warning note to his voice.

“Derek doesn’t like me,” Stiles blurts out.

Laura’s eyebrows shoot up, “No?”

Stiles shakes his head as he takes his seat at the table, which his luck happens to be right across from Derek. “No.”

“Stiles I told you before that’s not true,” Derek says.

Stiles shrugs, “If you say so.”

Laura and Derek share a look, Laura looking like she has something she wants to say. She purses her lips and remains silent when Derek shakes his head.

“Something smells great,” Stiles says.

“Derek made spaghetti,” his mom says.

“You cook?” Stiles asks.

“He’s an excellent cook,” Laura says. “I keep telling him he should be a chef, but he insists on going into history.”

“That’s what I’m interested in,” Derek tells her. “It makes me happy.”

“So does cooking,” Laura points out.

“That doesn’t mean I want to do it for a living,” Derek says.

“Well you’d certainly be good at it,” Stiles says, the compliment slipping from his lips before he can stop himself. He finishes chewing his food and smiles. “Because this is delicious.”

Derek ducks his head but Stiles doesn’t miss the shy smile on his lips, or the slight pink tinge to his cheeks. It’s kind of cute actually. He really should not be thinking that right now. Luckily Derek speaks to save him from opening his mouth and saying something stupid. “Thank you.”

“Should have known the way to Stiles’ heart would be through his stomach,” Laura teases.

Stiles ignores her and focuses on the food in front of him. Because he knows there’s no way he can disagree with her. Any denial about having feelings for Derek would be automatically caught as a lie in the room of werewolves. It’s unfortunate. He’s done a damn good job of keeping himself in check. He’s not going to out himself now.

It’s halfway through the meal when he feels a foot pressing against his leg. He looks across the table at Derek, who’s talking to Laura. Derek’s eyes find his for a moment and he smiles, before turning away again. Huh. Interesting.

“Anyone for desert?” Talia asks. “I made pie.”

“Oh I love pie,” Stiles says.

“So I heard,” she laughs. “Derek was insistent we had all your favorites here.”

“He was?”

“Oh sure,” Derek’s father, Robert, says. “He wanted you to enjoy your time here. All of you, of course.”

“It’s been wonderful so far,” Stiles’ mother says. “We really appreciate you inviting us out here.”

Stiles smiles as Talia places a slice of apple pie in front of him. His favorite. It’s delicious, but it’s still tainted with the feeling of guilt rising in him. He certainly hasn’t been behaving like someone deserving of pie.

“This is great,” Stiles says. “Thank you. And thank you for having us.”

“You’re quite welcome, Stiles,” Talia says. “We do hope you’ll find a way to enjoy yourself.”

“I’m sure I will,” Stiles tells her. He owes it to his mother, and himself, to try. As well as all the Hale’s. They were nice enough to invite them out here, and Stiles has been a bit of an ungrateful shit. He can admit that. Still, there’s time to make up for that.

After dinner, the adults head into the living room to set up for game night, and Stiles offers to wash the dishes. It’s the least he can do. Derek, of course, stays back with him.

“You know, since you cooked I’m pretty sure it’s not your job to wash the dishes,” Stiles tells him.

Derek shrugs, “I don’t mind helping.”

They work in silence for a while, Stiles washing the dishes while Derek rinses and dries. It’s not uncomfortable. Stiles doesn’t feel the nagging in his brain to fill the silence with nervous chatter. But there is something he knows he has to say since they’re alone.

“I am sorry for how I’ve been acting,” Stiles says. “I guess I was a little hangry.”

“A little?” Derek teases.

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Okay, maybe a lot.”

“It’s not just that though, is it?” Derek guesses.

“I was just looking forward to having this break with Scott, you know?” Stiles says. “It’s the last Christmas break we’ll have before college. So I wanted to make the most of it. So I was a little upset when I got here. But it wasn’t fair to take that out on you.”

“You’re right, it wasn’t,” Derek says, and Stiles sighs. “But I get it.”

“You do?”

“I’ve been coming out here every Christmas since I was a kid,” Derek says. “I love it out here, a lot, but sometimes I wish I could have stayed with my friends.”

“Not this year?”

Derek shrugs, “It seemed important to be here this year. Like you said, it’s our last Christmas before college. I feel like I owe it to my parents to be here, you know?”

Stiles nods, “Yeah I know. My dad kept saying it means a lot to my mom that we’re all together like this. So at first I was going to make the most of it for her.”

“At first?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles smiles over at him. “I’m starting to think it might not be horrible.”

Derek gasps, “Did you just admit to enjoying something?”

“I know, it surprised me too,” Stiles says. “But don’t tell anyone.”

“It’ll be our secret,” Derek tells him.

“I’m trusting you with this, Derek Hale,” Stiles says. “Don’t let me down.”

Derek laughs and takes the plate Stiles hands him, “Your secret is safe with me, Stiles.”

They lapse into silence again as they finish up the dishes. Stiles feels lighter now somehow than he has since he first stepped foot in the house. Hell, probably since they packed up and left early this morning. They finish up, and Stiles goes to leave the kitchen to join their parents and Laura in the living room. Derek stops him with a hand on his arm.

“I am glad you’re here, Stiles.”

Before Stiles has a chance to reply, he’s dropping Stiles’ arm and walking away. Stiles is left standing there, watching him leave. His heart is thudding in his chest, and he swears he can still feel the warmth of Derek’s hand on his skin.

Shit.

This won’t do. Whatever he’s feeling, he needs to get it under control. The last thing he needs is to walk out there with his feelings written all over his face in a house fool of werewolves. All he has to do is survive an hour of games and then he’ll be in the clear.

It’s not hard, thankfully. Everyone is so wrapped up in the games that they hardly pay him any mind. Which is more than fine with him. He gets paired up with Derek for charades and it’s actually pretty fun. They work well together. So well that they wind up winning more than half the rounds they play, until Laura groans and says they’re cheating somehow.

“You’re not even playing,” Derek tells her.

“Maybe not, but I still feel bad for our poor parents,” Laura says. “You two are winning so much there has to be something else going on.” She looks between the two with a smirk. “Something cosmic, maybe.”

“It’s just charades, Laura,” Derek laughs.

“Is it though?” Laura ponders. “What do you think, mom?”

“I think you’ve been at the eggnog too long,” Talia says.

“You know I’m right,” Laura says. “You’ll all see. Just you wait.”

The Hale parents share a look, but neither comment further. Derek rolls his eyes as he takes his place next to Stiles on the couch.

“What was that about?” Stiles asks.

“Just Laura being Laura,” Derek says.

It’s going on 9 when Stiles feigns being tired and bids everyone goodnight. He’s just slipped into his pajamas, a matching pants and bottoms set with reindeers that his mom had bought him, when a knock sounds on the door and Derek’s voice drifts through. “Stiles? Are you decent?”

“Yeah I’m good,” Stiles quietly calls back. He learned his lesson earlier to keep his voice down.

The door opens and Derek slips in, closing it behind him. He looks Stiles up and down and smiles. Stiles points a finger at him. “Don’t say anything.”

“They’re cute. In fact,” Derek walks over to his suitcase and ruffles around for a moment before holding something up. The same pajamas Stiles has. Both in a matching shade of bright red. Of course. His mom had seemed a little too happy when she gave him the pajamas earlier this week.

Stiles laughs, “Let me guess, your mom got them for you?”

“She did,” Derek says. “She got me a pair for every night here.”

“Mine too,” Stiles says.

“What do you think the chances are they’re all going to match?” Derek asks him.

“I’d say pretty good,” Stiles says. “Knowing them they went shopping together and thought it would be cute to make us match.”

“No doubt.” He looks from Stiles to the pajamas and clears his throat. “Could you…?”

“What? Oh! Right. Umm…” Stiles turns away, his eyes landing on the door leading out to the porch. “I’ll just go out here while you change.”

He slips out before Derek can say anything, and immediately regrets it when the cold winter air hits him. “Shit,” he mutters, wrapping his arms around himself. He moves to the couch swing and sits down, tucking his legs under him in hopes to get a little warmer.

The door opens a few minutes and Derek walks outside. He has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and two mugs in his hands. “Mom made us hot chocolate,” Derek says, handing one of the mugs over to Stiles as he takes a seat next to him.

Stiles takes it, grateful for the heat coming from the cup. He sips it greedily. The warmth from the hot chocolate spread through him, chasing the cold away, at least temporarily. Stiles has never been one to savor things, unfortunately, and he finishes his drink quickly. He thinks about going back inside. It would be the smart thing to do. It is warmer. But instead, he sets the mug on the table next to him, and looks out at the snow covered lake.

The swing sways slightly as Derek rocks it with his foot. It’s nice, calming even. The swaying paired with the hot chocolate have done a good job of relaxing him. But still, it’s cold. And the snow doesn’t help.

"You know, I could just magic all this snow away," Stiles offers.

"Don't you dare."

Stiles raises an eyebrow, "Don't tell me you like this."

Derek shrugs, the gesture barely noticeable under the thick blanket covering him. At least he was smart enough to bring one out with him. He blows into his hot chocolate before taking a sip. "It's nice. Peaceful. Sure, sometimes I miss my friends back home over break. But I've always loved coming up here because it provides a little break from the chaos, which we all need, and lets us just exist."

Stiles looks out at the snow covered lake and tries to see what Derek is seeing. This whole time he's been looking at it through the lens of not wanting to be here and what he was missing out on.  What would he see if he focused on what he had here instead? If he did just exist in this moment?

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He does feel more in tune to his magic here. As if even it feels drawn to this place. And maybe…

He glances over at Derek to see him looking out at the lake as he sips his drink. He's different than Stiles is used to. He’s certainly more relaxed. He looks… happy. Stiles finds he likes the look.

“You really like it here,” Stiles whispers. It’s not a question, more a realization as things start to settle into place.

Derek turns his head and smiles. There’s small flakes of snow sticking to his cheeks and eyelashes, and Stiles gasps. “I do,” Derek says.

Stiles finds himself smiling in return. “Maybe I could too.”

“Yeah?”

Stiles shrugs, “Yeah. You know, it is pretty here, and the view isn’t so bad.” He hasn’t looked away from Derek as he says the words. And why would he? The snow covered lake has nothing on Derek’s smile. And god, when did he start thinking like that? A long time ago if he’s being honest with himself, but he never really let himself linger on it. But now, something about this moment, makes him want to take a chance. To hope for something more. “The company isn’t so bad either,” Stiles adds, hoping to get his point across.

Derek sets his mug of cocoa down and leans across the swing, causing it to rock beneath them, until he’s hovering over Stiles. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, your mom is great,” Stiles jokes.

Derek huffs out a laugh and digs his fingers into Stiles’ sides, “Seriously?”

Stiles laughs and flails, trying to bat Derek’s hands away, before they wind up settling on his shoulders. “No. God.”

“My name’s Derek, but it’s nice to know you think so highly of me,” Derek teases.

His fingers are no longer attacking him, but they haven’t left his body. They’re warm somehow, probably from the cocoa or just Derek’s stupid werewolf body heat. The contrast to their warmth against his exposed skin, to the cold winter air, makes him shiver.

“Stiles?”

Stiles blinks, coming back to himself. “Hmm?”

“Are you cold?” Derek asks, his brow pinching adorably as he frowns.

Stiles laughs and raises his hand to brush over the crease in Derek’s forehead. “Of course I am. We’re outside in the middle of winter. And not all of us have supernatural body heat.”

Derek’s eyes widen and he starts to move back, “We should go inside.”

Stiles keeps his grip on one of Derek’s shoulders, “No. Stay.”

“But you’re cold,” Derek says.

“And you’re not.”

“Well no…”

“Because you have supernatural body heat,” Stiles says. He squirms enough to slip his hands under Derek’s blanket and grins up at him. “And this nice, warm, comfy blanket. That looks like it could be big enough for two.”

He raises an eyebrow, hoping Derek gets his point. Derek stares at him a moment, his mouth open, but no words coming out. Then he blinks. Once. Twice. A grin works its way onto his lips. “Oh? And who else should I invite inside this warm, comfy, blanket?”

“Hmm I can think of someone,” Stiles says. “Someone who has maybe been a little slow and never caught on to what was right in front of him.”

“And has he now?”

“Yeah, I’d definitely say so.” He rubs a hand down Derek’s back and smiles when Derek inhales sharply and his eyes flutter closed. He leans in closer, stopping a few inches from Derek’s face. “What do you say, Der? Want to let me in?”

Derek opens his eyes and their gazes lock. They don’t look away, even as Derek lets the blanket fall open, and Stiles moves in closer until he’s pressed flush against Derek. Derek wraps his arms around Stiles, pulling the blanket securely around them both. Derek lays him back against the swing, his body a warm, solid weight above him. The swing is still swaying beneath them but neither notice nor care. The only thing they can focus on is each other.

Stiles’ hand is gripping Derek’s sweater under the blanket, and he can still feel himself shaking. He’s not even sure anymore if it’s from nerves or the cold. They’re still not talking. Just looking. God one of them should say something, right?

“Hi.”

Not the most eloquent thing to say, but it’s a start. And it gets Derek to smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hi.”

“I uhh…”

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone speechless,” Derek teases.

Stiles laughs, “Maybe a bit.”

Derek squeezes his hip and Stiles feels himself relax, “Are you warmer?”

He is. So much warmer. How could he not be wrapped up in the blanket and Derek? He’s afraid if he says yes that Derek will pull back, and he’s not ready to let him go just yet.

“I don’t know,” Stiles says. He licks his lips, and Derek's eyes drift down, tracking the movement. Oh. How the hell had he missed this? Doesn’t matter. He’s on the right page now, and he’s not about to waste this opportunity. “My lips are still a little cold.”

“Yeah?” Derek whispers. “Well we can’t have that.”

“Nope.”

Derek meets his gaze and smiles, “I guess we’ll just have to warm them up then, huh?”

“Just c’mere.”

Stiles uses his grip on Derek’s sweater to pull him closer as he tilts his head up, and then they’re kissing. It’s not the most eloquent of kisses. Stiles’ lips still feel half frozen. But Stiles never wants it to stop. He wants them to stay like this until every frozen part of him thaws, from his lips to his heart. Derek’s doing a pretty damn good job at working on both.

“We should go in,” Derek murmurs against his lips.

Stiles whines and tightens his grip on Derek’s sweater, “No.”

A hard gust of wind blows around them, rocking the swing harder and Derek chuckles, “The swing isn’t the best place to be right now. Besides, it’s warmer in there, Stiles.”

“You’re warm.”

“Stiles.”

Stiles sighs, “Fine. On one condition.”

“What’s what?”

He kisses Derek quickly, “I’m sleeping with you tonight.”

Derek coughs, “What?”

“I just… I meant in the same bed,” Stiles says quickly. “You know, cuddling and shit. I wouldn’t… not with our parents and your sister here. Not that that’s what you want anyway. Oh god. Please just shut me up.”

“Never,” Derek says. “I like when you talk.”

Stiles snorts, “Yeah well, you’re the only one.”

“You look adorable when you’re excited about something,” Derek tells him.

Stiles groans, “Adorable? Really?”

“What? What’s wrong with adorable?”

“Nothing,” Stiles says. “It’s just, you know, used for things like bunnies and puppies and…”

“Stiles.”

“Yes, I know you’re including me in that.”

“Stiles.”

“What?”

Derek smiles and kisses him, something soft and sweet. “I adore you.”

Stiles blinks at him, sure that this has to be some sort of dream and Derek is just going to disappear. But he doesn’t. He remains there, smiling down at him. “I adore you too.”

Derek’s smile grows and then they’re kissing again. The snow continues to fall, covering the frozen ground and lake. Neither pay it any mind.

Stiles yelps when he finds himself being lifted up off the swing and into Derek’s arms as he walks them towards the door. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you inside before you catch a cold,” Derek tells him.

Stiles can’t say he minds being in Derek’s arms like this. In fact, he likes it quite a lot. He likes it even better when Derek lowers him down onto the bed and then crawls in after them, wrapping them both up in his thick blanket. Stiles snuggles in closer, his face tucked into Derek’s neck as Derek’s hands move up and down his arm and back. He falls asleep like that, feeling safe and warm in Derek’s arms.

When he wakes up the next morning, still snuggled up to Derek’s chest, with the morning sun casting a warm glow across Derek’s sleeping face, he thinks that being here might not be so bad after all. It’s actually pretty great.

[shimmeringclouds]

Ichimatsu - A Winter Carnival

𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳!𝘐𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

DISCLAIMER: Our reader is not in a relationship, she is just the child of Ichimatsu. There is no romantic relationship between these characters and others.

"Papa!" you called from the front door, your small hands struggling to pull on your shoes. Footsteps sounded behind you, and you heard a soft chuckle.

"Papa, my shoes won't get on!" you cried, cheeks puffed as you pouted. You felt his large hands lift you up from the floor, standing you upright and taking your shoes from you, kneeling down.

"You've got them on the wrong feet, kitten," Ichimatsu laughed, guiding your tiny feet into your boots. You pouted, muttering about how shoes didn't make sense. After securing your shoes, he adjusted your coat and scarf, making sure you were nice and snug in your warm clothing before heading out into the winter air.

The front door slid open, a similar looking face peeking through the doorway.

"Are you guys ready yet?" Karamatsu called, smiling softly down at his niece. A bright smile broke out onto your face at the sight of him, quickly running over into his arms.

"Karama-chan!" You squealed as he lifted you up, resting you onto his hip. Ichimatsu frowned slightly at the attention you had given his shitty brother instead of him, but refrained from saying anything.

"Yeah, we're coming.." he grunted, standing up and following his brother out the door. His other siblings stood in a small group, attempting to warm themselves against the chilly air. Spotting you both, they all broke out into smiles.

"Little [Y/N]!" Todomatsu cooed, taking multiple pictures of you. Osomatsu came over and patted your head with a grin.

"Are you ready for the best time with your favourite uncle?" He teased, earning a jab in the ribs from Choromatsu. Jyushimatsu took you from Karamatsu's arms and places you onto his broad shoulders, securely holding your small frame in place before lightly jogging around, his contagious laughter filling the air.

Ichimatsu watched on with a small smile before shuffling along with his brothers, muttering to Jyushimatsu to "be careful."

With the extra height you were given, you could make out the faint lights of the carnival a few roads down, eagerly exclaiming to the sextuplets about it.

"That time of the year already, huh?" Osomatsu mused, walking alongside Ichimatsu and Karamatsu, whilst the other three stayed close to you. "The winter carnival is back again."

"Time has flown fast indeed, burazza," Karamatsu agreed. "It seems that [Y/N] is also growing up quite fast. As expected of Ichimatsu's fatherhood!" He pointed with a flourish to his brother, who only rolled his eyes.

"We all know I have no idea what I'm doing," he watched you carefully. "It's all thanks to mom. She's better at this than any of us could be, seeing as she raised six of us."

"Man!" Osomatsu cried out. "I still can't believe you've got a kid first! This is totally unfair.. I'm the eldest, dammit!"

The air around then grew slightly chillier, a cold breeze wafting by the small group. Ichimatsu's hands dug deeper into his coat pockets, his head hanging lower. The elder two glanced at each other before sighing.

"...Are you gonna visit again today?" Karamatsu asked cautiously, his hands unsure of wether they should pat his younger brother or keep them to himself. The silence was stifling, even if it was brief.

"...Yeah..." Ichimatsu finally answered. "But afterwards. I don't wanna ruin the mood." Your bright laughter carried over to him. "Maybe I'll leave [Y/N] with you guys while I go..."

"Let's all go together."

Both heads snapped towards Osomatsu, who had his hands casually folded behind his head.

"I mean, why not? It's been a while since the rest of us have been, anyway. Might as well go while we have the chance."

There were only a handful of times when their shitty eldest would speak something sensible, and every time, it would leave whoever had heard him in shock.

Ichimatsu was the first to snap out of it, huffing out a smile as he glanced from you to the full moon above him.

"Do whatever you want."

»»-----　♔　-----««

"Papa! We're here, we're here!" You yelled excitedly over all the chatter, your legs kicking about as Jyushimatsu placed you down on the ground. You quickly ran over to your father, hooking your smaller hand into his larger one.

Soft fairy lights were strung around the carnival area, leaving a dim glow over each stall and pathway. Decorations of snowflakes and angels glittered from above, filling your eyes with fragments of light. Few piles of snow were scattered along the ground from previous snowfall, adding a sort of mystical touch that you loved.

It was already bustling with crowds of people, flitting from stall to stall like moths to a flame, eager to take a look at what had been brought this year, excited murmurs drifting through the air.

"Can we get the candy apples again? Please please please?" You pointed at the stall, the enticing scent of caramel and sweet apples luring you in.

"Only if we share it," he replied, allowing you to tug him over to the stall.

"I want some too!" Jyushimatsu joined in, bouncing alongside you. You giggled as the others also chimed in, seeing your dad's brow twitch.

The candy was placed into your hands, the weight of the apple making the stick wobble in your hands.

"Don't drop it now," Ichimatsu warned. He swiftly placed his hands over your own, guiding the apple into your mouth. You could only take a few small bites though, with most of the caramel smearing onto your lips and cheeks.

"Aww, that was so cute!" Todomatsu squealed, already taking a wipe and gently smoothing it over your face and hands. You squirmed at the sensation, giggles spluttering from your lips at the ticklish feeling. Choromatsu bent down next to you.

"Do you wanna try catching some goldfish?" He gestures to the next stall. "It's really easy. I can teach you!"

You nodded instantly, already running ahead at the mention of the golden fishes. You peered into the tub, awing at the clusters of shimmering fishes glistening in the stall's lamp light, the water enlarging their size.

"Papa, I really want one!" You bit your lip, eyes widening into what they called your 'kitten eyes,' hoping Ichimatsu would give in. It seemed all too easy as the man blocked his eyes after a moment.

"Only if you catch one. Then you can keep it, okay?" He watched as Choromatsu taught you how to guide the fish gently into the net, muttering soft words of encouragement after you failed the first few times. Eventually, though, you were able to successfully catch one, shouting happily as your fish was placed into its water filled bag.

"Well done, [Y/N]!" Choromatsu patted your head as a reward, allowing you to run over to your father and jump into his arms.

"Did you see me, Papa?!" Your arms waves around in exaggeration as you explained in oh-so-much detail how you caught the goldfish. Ichimatsu placed a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"I saw. I'm really proud of you, kitten."

His heart warmed at the sight of your joy, knowing that his daughter was as happy as she could be. The others watched from the side, identical smiles on their faces as they watched their brother be the father he truly could be.

You all spent a good few hours at the festival. Whether it was enjoying the tasty delicacies and sweets from almost every stall — thanks to Osomatsu and Jyushimatsu's cravings — or when you had all bought your own masks delicately painted to look like youkai from urban Japanese legends, you all had fun all the same.

However, being the young child you were, you didn't have the energy to keep going for much longer. You rubbed your eyes as you yawned heavily, clutching onto Ichimatsu's clothing as you started to sway a little. Noticing this, Ichimatsu knelt down in front of you.

"Tired?" He asked, moving your hands away. You shook your head, adamant on staying awake.

"I wanna stay longer! I wanna play more..." you yawned, "...more games with you and everyone!"

"I think we should head back home, [Y/N]." Ichimatsu was not deterred by your pouting, although he felt a jolt of pain as your eyes started welling up with tears.

"But I don't wanna..!"

"Is your Papa being mean again?" Osomatsu wandered over, picking you up and holding you. "Seriously, Ichimatsu. Stop making the kid cry!" There was teasing glint in his eye as he made sure your head was buried into his shoudker before winking at his brother.

"C'mon, little [Y/N], cheer up! Osoma-chan is here to rescue you!"

Ichimatsu sighed, walking away from the group for a moment to slip to another stall. He eyed the large displays of flowers and bouquets, before settling onto a tall bunch of purple hyacinths and soft pink camelias, all fully bloomed and vibrant.

"Can I help you, sir?" The florist beamed. Ichimatsu pointed towards the flowers he had seen, watching idly as the woman picked them up and began wrapping them in a nice bouquet, complete with a purple bow.

"Have a nice evening!" She had called out as he made his way back, surprised to see that Choromatsu was holding his sleeping daughter against his chest.

"Ah, you're back, burazza!" Karamatsu oatyed his shoulder. He eyed the flowers for a moment before grinning softly. "It seems [Y/N] has fallen asleep whilst you were gone. Perhaps we should hurry to our next destination?"

Ichimatsu only nodded, his grip on the flowers tightening slightly as he began leading the group down a different path home. Only, they weren't heading home.

The journey was mostly silent, with each brother either making quiet conversation with one another, or simply admiring the night sky. Your sleeping form was passed between the six, each one carefully cradling you until someone else offered to hold you, eventually settling into Ichimatsu's free arm. You grumbled, burying your face deeper into the crook of his neck.

A stone arch came into view, a set of iron gates still open. Ichimatsu held no hesitation as he walked through, his brothers falling silent behind him. A small cat scurried over to him, winding itself gently around his legs before trotting ahead, glancing back as it waited for the group to catch up.

They passed rows of tall gravestones, intricately decorated with Japanese writings and fresh flowers, before stopping at a certain one. The cat had laid itself down beside it, curling up comfortably after nudging it's head lovingly over the stone.

A familiar name was engraved onto the stone; a name that the Matsuno family would never forget. A flash of memory ran through Ichimatsu's mind as he took a deep breath. It never got easier, not matter how many times he came by.

He placed the bunch of flowers onto the flat platform before kneeling down, making sure you were comfortable before speaking softly.

"It's me again... And I've brought [Y/N], too."

A breeze swept by. He swore it was warmer than before.

"My shitty brothers tagged along, too. Sorry about them."

"Hey!" A few exclaimed, although there was no anger behind it.

Ichimatsu continued his conversation in silence, all his thoughts, happy or worrying, coming to the forefront of his mind. He snapped out of it briefly when he felt you shuffle in his arms.

You raised your head, drowsily rubbing your eyes again as you glanced around, your shimmering gaze finally settling on the grave in front of you. A tired smile broke out onto your lips.

"Mama..." you mumbled. Your eyes still felt heavy as you reached out, fingers barely brushing over the stone. "I love you, mama..."

You fell back to sleep, leaving the others in silence once more. They all gazed at you with adoration, exchanging smiled with one another as Ichimatsu stood up.

He muttered something under his breath before turning, his head low as he made his way back to the entrance, his grip on you a little tighter than before.

He had lost his wife too soon. But, he had been left with you, the most precious gift he could ever ask for. At least you had her eyes, he had always thought, big and bright, full of wonder. He couldn't lose you, too. He would care for you with all the love he had in him.

The warm breeze swept by again, rustling through your hair and wafting over Ichimatsu's face. It carried a whisper of a voice that made him pause.

'I love you, too.'

[eloarei]

A little rambling: on grief; and grieving a dog, a cat, an unborn child, and pieces of me that got hurt along the way. 

2300 words under the cut. 

It’s a very gloomy day today. I don’t usually mind; I like rain. But on a bad day, or a bad week, it only seems to insulate me in my own dark thoughts. That’s what today seems to be. I’ll work on fixing it later-- getting some exercise, sunlight if the clouds clear, making some tea. Should’ve done that already, but I forgot. Ate half a banana, at least. 

As I’ve complained about a few times lately, I’ve just not been doing especially well. When and why did it all start? It’s hard to say, but this ‘unwellness’ spell seems most potent starting April 11th (my anniversary, unfortunately, which is why I can remember it), when I came down with a gruesome stomach bug. Really haven’t been feeling right since. I’m really bad about being sick; it scares me and I handle it badly. I assume that’s part of what has messed me up. 

But grief is the other part, I think. Grief, and my being scared and worried that what caused it could strike again at any minute. Look, I’m... 32 now, and I’m sure that most people by this age have experienced profound loss. I’m probably not unusual, and I’m certainly not alone, but I think all the loss I’ve experienced is just piling up on me now, like there wasn’t enough time to process the new fresh ones before newer fresher ones came on, and so now even the old tough scars are aching. 

When I was a teenager, my parents died. They were old, and it was health problems. It was not a surprise, but that didn’t make it easier to deal with in freshman year of high school. (What made it easier to deal with? Rabidly cleaning out the fridge and watching Lord of the Rings tapes the neighbors lent me. That’s all I did for three days after my mom died.) It’s been a long time-- more than half my life ago-- and I do feel like I’m ‘over it’, but sometimes it just wells up, tears from nowhere. Maybe that’s just how grief is. 

A certainly had a good decade of my 20′s. I got married at 19, and had a pretty uneventful set of years. That felt normal to me. I do think, though, that the loss of my parents haunted me in that time, quietly. It influenced everything I did; it probably still does, if only because it changed the person I have become. But other than that, things were good, I think.  My dog Roxy died two years ago, when I was 30, not long after I got back from seeing my siblings for the first time in ages. She was violently ill, and died right in front of us as we were getting ready to take her to the vet. I think I’ve written about it. In fact, the next day I wrote a depressing fanfic piece, certainly as a coping mechanism. (It made people cry, so, mission accomplished, I guess.) I think that helped a lot. A few months later, my in-laws’ dog died too, while mom-in-law was on vacation, and that was rough as well. I wrote another sad fanfic about death. I really like both of these pieces, because they mean something, and they’re very raw. Furthermore, I’ll always have them, as tokens for Roxy, Ginger, and the little pieces of me they crushed when they died. I don’t know if the exchange is worth it, but it’s what I have. 

My grief over Roxy was gentle, as time went on. It didn’t bother me. I think I’d processed it well. I’d written out my feelings. I held her body in numb arms as my husband dug her grave. It was okay. 

In early 2020, basically on my 31st birthday (and right as Covid was happening), I found I was pregnant. Long story short, those were the densest two months of my life, where everything seemed to change so quickly. My thoughts and feelings could fill so very many pages; this is not the place I’ll leave them. The point of this particular story is that it didn’t work out. The baby ‘died’ not terribly unlike Roxy had-- violently ill, in front of me, with far too much blood. I passed out three times-- the real start of this current fearful nature, because I cannot overstate how very much I felt like I was going to die. I went to the ER; it was miserable, an ordeal I could say quite a lot about. I won’t, though. I have before, and I likely will again, elsewhere. 

This... This grief... I think I still don’t know what to do with it. I don’t think I ever will. Months later, I started writing a fic to deal with my feelings, though it took 90k words and many months before I got to the part where I could really delve into my trauma. And it has helped, I’m sure. I’m really sure. And I care about this fic so much, because like the others it is raw and real and it’s something I’d never have if not for my experience. Again, it may not be a fair trade, but it’s what I have. 

I don’t grieve for the baby. It didn’t make it far enough to even have a heartbeat. It doesn’t have a name, a gender. It doesn’t have a grave. We let the hospital take care of it. But I still grieve. I’m sad. Wrecked. I grieve what it could have been. I grieve the hope that was spent and lost on it, a precious resource that will take a long time to grow back, if ever. I grieve over not only my own disappointment, but my husband’s, and my in-laws. They’ve never pressured us to have kids, but they’re in their 60′s now, with no grandchildren. I think they feel... lacking, in a way. I understand. I feel the same (though different). I wanted to give them that. I wanted to have that. 

I still....?

I can’t say. I don’t know what I want. The event complicated my already complex emotions. I’m still waiting for them to simplify. Maybe they will, or maybe they won’t. 

I was alright for a while. Stressed enough because of Covid and family’s declining health. Then in early April 2021, just a year after the miscarriage, I got badly sick. Gross, but not what most people would call a real issue. But only a year after the miscarriage, when my body betrayed me and I was at its horrid mercy, this felt like too much. Again I felt like I was going to die. A week of near delirious fever and nausea; I’d have handled it badly enough in any other circumstance. 

As expected, I got through it. A horrible week, but just a week (or so). And then my dog Tobi died, just days later. 

This is it. This is the one I... I’m speechless about. The one I... maybe haven’t processed enough. I was just back from the edge of being badly, violently ill. I didn’t have the energy to write, physically or emotionally. And that just made it worse. I love writing. It’s my outlet (surprising, I’m sure). I wanted to write. I thought I ought to write. I needed to write. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t muster the words. I still... can’t. 

Tobi was... my baby. Not literally, of course. I didn’t conflate him with my lost child or anything. Tobi was 14. I’d had him since I graduated high school and got an apartment. Adopting him was one of the first things my husband and I did as an established adult couple, before we were even married. He was there, at my wedding. The photographer took a cute picture of me holding him before the ceremony. He was 11 months old at the time. Still had all his brown spots before they turned tan, then later white. He was there; he was always there. He was my entire adult life. And now I’ve lost him, the pup I had longer than my marriage (though soon we will outlast him). He was the big brother to all my other pets. He practically raised all the cats, and they adored him. (Tobi was a chihuahua, so they might have thought he was just another cat.) 

He was a sweet boy, who loved his mom and dad first and foremost. When he was little, he was scared of everyone else. Eventually he warmed up to strangers and friends, and in his old age he mostly liked to nap somewhere on his own. He was silly and playful; he always chased the cats when they wanted to be chased. It was a game they all loved. 

The vet... well, we took him in when he started to cough badly. He’d had a cough for a few months, but it wasn’t constant and didn’t seem to be affecting his quality of life much. But that day it was bad, so we took him. (We can’t afford frequent vet visits, so this was clearly desperate.) The vet took him and put him on oxygen. We had to stay in the car because they weren’t open for human guests. Then she came and told us a scan had revealed cancer, marbled through his lungs. He was suffocating. In fact, he wouldn’t likely even make it home, not even the two mile drive. We had to put him down. My husband and I cried like babies. We’d never put an animal down before. Generally speaking, we don’t really ‘believe in it’, if that makes sense. But faced with this situation, we had no choice. 

I didn’t see him again. I think that’s the worst part, though it would have been equally bad to see him, I think. And it was all so sudden. He was playing and chasing the cats the day before. Begging for treats of human food. Barking at the Roomba. And then I had to pay hundreds of dollars to say goodbye to him. It felt so unfair. I cried all day. My husband and I, we just went home and laid down and wept. 

But I still haven’t written about it, not in the way that I wrote about the others. For all that I wrote here, it doesn’t begin to encompass my deeper feelings on what it means that he is gone, and how I felt to have to make that decision. I have ideas. I think I know what I would write, if I could, but writing... still mostly eludes me. I may try. I probably should. 

I take a deep breath. I know I should sum this up and take care of myself, but there’s yet a little more to say. 

I think Tobi’s death is a large part of what affects me still, but several weeks ago I had what I could only call a panic attack. In the middle of the night I awoke, my heart beating rapidly, a horrible feeling of dread like certainty that all I could possibly do was die. It took over two days for me to feel mostly normal again, and then I still felt vaguely nauseous for two weeks. Then, just a few days ago, it happened again, but this time before bed. I could feel it rising in me, this indescribable sickness. It took several days ago before I felt normal. And this is where I am now. 

Sadly, a little while after the first panic attack, my husband and I failed to save a malnourished feral kitten. It was not a surprise, but yet one more reminder of the fragility of life, and how little I can do to keep death away from those I care about. This poor thing, it was so desperate to live, but nothing we could do could save it. I could have poured all my time into trying, could have scrounged up money to take it to the vet (when I should take my own cats, who all have colds), but I know better. I know... so much of the time, there’s nothing you can do. And now I’m trying to help what might be its siblings, a few cute feral kittens nearby. My favorite seems... a little lethargic, and not very interested in eating the wet food and meat scraps I sometimes bring by. I don’t think there’s anything I can do, if it ends up being sick, if it ends up being malnourished. I can’t bring it inside when it could infect my own cats. I have to care for them first. 

But knowing that it could die... it bothers me. 

And knowing that I could die. I could die. I’m too aware of that, on top of everything else. I hate doctors, so I never go. (Also I’m poor.) This toothache? Could be a terrible abscess. My brother went to the ER for sepsis from an abscess tooth recently! That’s probably what caused the panic, to be honest. But then... why have I felt so week? Is there a problem with my blood? Am I sicker than I know? Do I have breast cancer? My grandma did, and I know I should get it checked out, but it’s just ONE MORE THING. It’s always like that. 

And that’s... how I feel right now. Covered in ‘one more thing’s on rainy days and night-work schedules. Trying to take care of myself but not always knowing what that means. Lacking the inspiration to do the things I know I enjoy, because worry and apathy holds me back from everything. 

I’m okay. Really. No day of mine is ever entirely without merit, and I have plans to do most of the things that should keep me healthy. But the day is short when my needs and long, and the day is long when I’m paralyzed by apathy. 

So. I’ll just take it a moment at a time. And when I can, I’ll try to keep writing.