#loaded her household and this is the face she gives me

[astoldbychae]

Same girl, same. 😩

[thrasherella]

Needy Werewolf Husband is going into his rut and is really, reaallllyyyyy trying to get his wife's attention away from the household chores she's insisting on finishing before he can have his way with her...

...

He followed her all around the kitchen as she tidied up, wrapping his arms around her from behind and groping her tits as she cleaned the few dishes in the sink, pinching and teasing her nipples as she sighed and moaned, grinding his hard cock into her soft ass, his breath hot and voice desperate against her ear as he begged her to let him fuck her already.

"Please let me put it in..." he whined, nipping at the shell of her ear lightly in frustration as his swollen, red cock throbbed against her, begging for more attention, for more friction, for more anything; he felt like he was starting to lose his mind.

She had told him to keep humping her ass like a horny little puppy if he couldn't wait, and he really couldn't. He continued fondling her breasts, palming and squeezing them in his massive hands, and she whimpered and mewled, rolling her hips back against his.

"See, you want it too..."

She continued to deny him as she finished wiping and organizing the kitchen counters, his cock dribbling all over her backside as he pumped against her, unable to stop himself. He needed to pin her down, needed to stuff her full of his cock; he could smell her arousal mounting as she ground that perfect little ass back against him, her honeyed scent driving him absolutely wild.

"Just a little longer love, you're being such a good boy," she cooed, scratching him gently under his chin as he made puppy dog eyes at her, eliciting from him a low, humming moan.

He humped her legs while she vacuumed the living room, whimpering and growling as she did her best to ignore him, slowly and methodically making her way across the room as he ground into her, dragging and rubbing his cock against her, staining her clothes with his sticky precum, nipping at the back of her neck and ears, demanding her attention.

"Please, need to fuck you now baby, need to fill you; need to empty my cock into your perfect little pussy and give you a litter of pups..."

"Be a good boy and wait until I'm done cleaning the bedroom, okay?" she had purred, and he whimpered a weak agreement in response.

When they got to the bedroom however, she was helpless against him as he shoved her face first down onto the mattress, ripping apart those pesky little shorts and panties that had been blocking his aching cock, confirming what he already knew from her overwhelming scent that her cunt was already drenched and waiting for him to stretch and fill her.

"I lied," he huffed, mounting her from behind and lining up his dripping cockhead with her pussy, parting her nether lips slowly around him, loving how she moaned into her pillow as he did. "I don't wanna be a good boy; and you were a bad girl, it's not nice to tease a rutting wolf...now you be good, and take my knot," he hilted into her in one hard thrust, feeling her pussy clenching around him; a low, rumbling growling escaping his throat, and a deliciously muffled scream coming from her as he knotted her, forcing every inch of himself into her tight cunt.

He was already so overstimulated, biting down into her shoulder as he came, painting her insides white as he filled her with his thick load, and she cried out as her own orgasm crashed over her, hips bucking and rolling against him, squirting her climax all over his dick and pooling on the bedsheets.

"That's a good girl," his breath was hot against her ear, pushing her hips up slightly to get one clawed hand between her and the mattress, flittering and rubbing his fingers against her swollen clit, loving how she writhed and squirmed beneath him helplessly. "No more chores, no where for you to go, sweet thing stuffed and stuck on my knot...just be a good girl and turn off your brain, and squirt on my dick again, and again, and again while I make you my cum-dumpster..."

She couldn't deny this was exactly what she wanted...she knew her husband better than anyone and knew that denying him was a sure fire way to make sure he took extra time to "punish" her for the time she had wasted keeping him waiting.

Oh no, what a tragedy that would be...

[pickingupmymercedes]

That girl (woman) - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: That girl - Olly Murs

pairing: Husband!Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff

a/n: tried a little something different with the pov and the narrative, let me know what you guys think.

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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It was a regular Wednesday mid-autumn, the kind of quiet morning in the Hamilton household that felt precious in its ordinariness. Lewis sat at the edge of their bed, balancing a tray loaded with her favorite redberry pancakes and a fresh bouquet perched precariously on the side table.

Before we dive deeper, let me share a little secret about Lewis. He’s a legend on the track—speed, skill, mind, the whole package. But there, in their Monaco apartment, watching his wife sleep soundly as morning eased into afternoon, he was just a man.

And as he gazed at her with a strange mix of tenderness and a touch of guilt, it was clear he was reflecting on what he nearly threw away once.

You see, Y/n hadn’t been just any woman in his life. She’d been a force, a renowned stylist, beloved by many. And Lewis, in a past he now could only shake his head at, had once thought he was doing her a favor by pushing her away.

He’d believed that she deserved someone less weighed down by a career that dragged him across continents, with fame that threw him, and her by default, under every public spotlight.

So, in a moment of misguided self-sacrifice, he’d told her she deserved better. Needed to leave him, he’d said, so she could find someone who could give her the life she deserved.

But she’d seen through his words. She’d planted herself firmly in his life and told him, in no uncertain terms, that if he truly wanted her gone, he’d have to make the effort to really let her go.

He hadn’t, of course— couldn’t. And now, there she was, their child growing inside her, still by his side.

Back in the bedroom that overlooked the Mediterranean Sea, Y/n began to stir, her dark lashes fluttering as she woke.

The sunlight had climbed high, a clear sign she’d overslept. Not that it was surprising. Lately, the exhaustion came in waves—pregnancy was starting to demand more rest from her.

She shifted slightly, her bump visible under the soft rise of his oversized T-shirt she’d claimed as sleepwear. Lewis smiled at that, too, how she’d taken so much of him as her own.

As Y/n stretched, blinking sleep from her eyes, she spotted Lewis there, looking all too pleased with himself, balancing that breakfast tray as if he’d been waiting an hour to make his grand entrance.

“Why, Sir. To what do I owe this royal breakfast treatment?” she asked, her voice still drowsy, as she raised an eyebrow playfully though she wore a faint smile.

“Oh, nothing much,” he said, setting the tray in front of her. But there was something about the way he lingered, how his eyes traced her face a bit longer than usual, and how his hand found its way to her bump, lightly brushing circles over her stomach.

She noticed it too, of course. Y/n’s gaze slid from him to the pancakes, to the bouquet of wildflowers he’d set down beside her. His hand was still there, fingers spreading, gentle against her skin.

She tucked into the pancakes, savoring the tart sweetness of the berries, though one eye was still on him. He was keeping quiet, which was unusual enough to make her pause, fork halfway to her mouth.

He didn’t speak, but his fingers had settled in, tracing softer circles on her tummy, as if trying to connect with their child through her skin.

“Alright, spill it, Hamilton,” she said at last, her eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion. She hadn’t missed the glances, the softer smiles, or how his usual self-assured charm was just a little off this morning.

He fumbled. Oh yes, THE Lewis Hamilton—six inches taller than everyone else when it came to confidence—stumbling on his words now as he looked back at her, gathering himself as if preparing to speak before a packed audience.

“It’s nothing. Really, I just…” he hesitated, clearing his throat. “I just wanted to thank you. For yesterday. For coming to the factory with me.”

Ah, yes, the visit. Y/n had been there at his side all day, chatting with engineers and mechanics, giving them warm smiles, sometimes asking the kind of questions that endeared her to the team.

She’d been there, even though they both knew she’d been exhausted—he’d seen it in the way she leaned against surfaces or rested a hand on her bump when she thought he wasn’t looking.

But she’s the kind of person who’d walk the extra mile without a second thought if it meant making him feel grounded

“Oh” She waved it off. “I just know it’s important for you to have your support system there. Besides, we’ll leave you alone to those visits for a while, after this one gets here.” She gave him a smile, and it was enough to make Lewis sit back, humbled and deeply, thoroughly grateful.

Because that’s the thing about Y/n. She didn’t just say the right things. She showed up. She showed him, again and again, that he was worth it to her.

When he’d told her to leave, thinking he was noble, sacrificing himself for her own good, she’d thrown it right back at him. Said if he wanted her gone, he’d have to be a man and make it happen. He hadn’t. And in not doing it, he’d made a choice just as firmly as she had.

He reached out then, brushing his fingers on her cheek, his hand lingering for a moment, as if memorizing her face.

Y/n, ever observant, took his hand, resting it over hers. She could feel the weight of everything unsaid—how his grip was just a bit tighter, his thumb brushing her knuckles in slow circles. Her eyes softened, and for once, he allowed himself to drop the pretense.

“I know I’ve said it before,” he started, his voice quiet. “But I don’t think I can ever say it enough. I’m grateful. For you, for our little one. For everything.”

She let out a small laugh, rolling her eyes. “Lewis, you don’t need to go poetic on me. I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckled, but even then, there was a solemnity in his expression, an echo of the worry that had lived with him since that fateful night years ago when he’d tried to push her out.

He leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering just long enough to let her know he was serious.

They didn’t need words, not really. She knew, and he knew she knew.

That’s the magic they’d always shared. She didn’t need a grand speech to understand that in the way he carried her breakfast in, the way he’d brushed her cheek, he was telling her a thousand times over just how lucky he felt.

For Lewis, that single kiss said everything he couldn’t.

They sat there in quiet contentment, her finishing the last of her pancakes, his hand tracing that rhythmic pattern on her bump again, as if communicating with their little one in their secret code.

“Now” she said, breaking the silence as she watched him circling his fingers on her belly “I need you to go. This mama’s got work, and so do you, unless you plan on spending the rest of the day like this.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing” he said, flashing a mischievous grin.

But he stood regardless, though he couldn’t resist stealing one more kiss. Because that’s also the thing about Lewis—he’d had a brush with losing her once, and he wasn’t about to let it happen again.

So there he was, savoring the sight of her, engraving this moment into memory. After all, being wrong about her had been the best mistake of his life.

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[berberriescorner]

“Loud and Wrong”

Characters: Kevin Atwater x Black!Reader.

Summary: Kevin and wifey have a minor disagreement.

Warnings: Fluff and a dash of spicy talk.

Word Count: 2,000+.

A/N: Well, lovelies. I've been having sleepless nights lately. Dealing with some ish. Life be life-inggg and it's keepin' my ass up at night *le sigh*. Tired of my mind racing. So to cut off intrusive thoughts I gave it a go and worked on some of my WIPS. My head quieted down enough for me to finish one. I've got some other things I've been working on as well. Fingers crossed I can finish some other works🤞🏾. This isn't heavily edited, but I hope you still enjoy it my loves🫶🏾. Here's to hoping I haven't lost my spark as a writer 😩😆🤷🏾‍♀️.

“The disrespect in this household is at an all-time high. Just going to sit there and eat in my face like that.”

Your husband called you earlier as he was leaving the precinct. He informed you that Halstead, Ruzek, and Voight wanted to watch the game tonight. Kevin called to see if it’d be okay for them to watch it at the house. Once he had confirmation that it was cool with you, he mentioned they’d be stopping for food. He offered to pick you up something as well, but you declined. You weren’t feeling well, so you didn’t have a taste for anything. Kevin asked if you were sure. After confirming, the call ended with “I love you.” Going against his better judgment, he found himself in the hot seat.

“What are you talking about, baby? How did I disrespect you?” Kevin’s senses prickled, and he braced himself for a lecture.

“So, you didn’t bring me any food? Give me some of your wings, babe,” you plead.

Not thinking it through, he let his temper get the best of him. Kevin fussed, “Did you, or did you not say you weren’t hungry? No, baby, you do this every time. You should’ve told me to get you some food. Why do you do that?”

Your eyebrows raised, “Am I not allowed to change my mind?”

“Don’t answer that,” Adam fake coughed, “loaded question.”

Ignoring his best friend, you smirked as Voight’s hand met the back of Ruzek’s head, and he whispered an apology.

“I’m not even that hungry. I just want a couple of wings and some fries.”

“Which means you want all my flats and the crispy fries. That’s the best part of the meal. If you changed your mind, there was plenty of time to call me back and ask for something. Why not do that? Am I right, or am I missing something here,” he directed the last question at the guys. They had been sitting in uncomfortable silence, trying to remain neutral. Neither Ruzek nor Halstead wanted any part of the exchange.

“Kev, give that beautiful woman some food. Always keep your wife happy,” Voight replied.

“I’m not in it, Bro,” Jay replied, while Adam held his hands up, wanting no part of the conversation.

“You should listen to Voight. Besides, I did text you.”

“No, you didn't. I had my phone on me the entire time, love.”

“Oh, so now I’m a liar? Okay, bet,” you responded, tone clipped. You sat beside Kevin with your arms crossed, giving him the silent treatment.

It had only been a few minutes when it started driving him crazy. “Here, ma. Just take some. I guess I can order some more food.”

“I’m good. Liars don’t get rewarded. Right?”

“Man, whatever,” he responded, kissing his teeth as he shook his head. “I’ll gladly enjoy my food.”

His phone signaled a text from Halstead. The men made eye contact as Jay’s facial expression signaled for Kevin to read it.

“Bro, are you crazy? Don’t argue with a pregnant woman. She’s growing your child. The least you could do is just go with it, even if she’s acting a little dramatic. It’s not her, it’s the hormones, brother 😏.”

Kevin sighed, knowing Jay was right. Not even bothering to respond, he backed out of the message. His movements halted as he noticed an unread message. Turns out you had texted him an order.

Feeling like a jerk, he locked his phone, sliding it back into his pocket. Not saying a word, he grabbed his to-go box, gently placing it in yours. His lips left a juicy kiss on your cheek, trailing up to the left temple before he spoke, “You're right, baby. I should’ve ordered extra food, just in case. Eat this, and I’ll just order some more.”

“Mm, am I right? Or did you finally see my text message? Jackass.”

He couldn’t even be mad because you were right. The doorbell sounded, leaving a confused look on your husband's face. Dumping the box back onto his lap, you turned to Voight.

“Could you help me up? Please,” you asked, voice soft and angelic.

Kevin quickly placed his food on the coffee table. “Stop playing, mama. I can get the door.” You rolled your eyes, “I’ll get it,” you snapped. Kevin stood there tilting his head to the side, burning with attitude. Voight inserted himself, “You two play nice and put this to rest. I’ll get the door.”

“Nonsense, you’re our guest,” you responded, but Voight was already up, halfway to the door.

Hank was only gone a few minutes. He returned to the family room, smiling and chuckling to himself. “Mrs. Atwater. I never want to be on your bad side. Kevin–Bro. I don't know how you'll pull yourself out of this one.”

Kevin looked at Voight quizzically. He watched as his boss laid a fatherly kiss on his wife's temple. It fully registered for him as he witnessed the man hand her an Uber Eats bag. The same logo they had all gotten their dinner from was written in big, bold letters on the receipt attached. The two of you glared at one another as you dug in and devoured a handful of fries.

The room erupted in laughter as Kevin rolled his eyes. Unlike the other men in the room, he found nothing funny.

“When did you order food?”

“The minute you called me a liar.”

Kevin pinched the bridge of his nose.

I love the hell out of this woman, but she gon’ drive me crazy.

“You cannot be serious. Let's not pretend you didn't know I’d give in and share my food. Why must you be so damn petty, woman?”

“Just hush. It’s over. Sit down, eat your food, and enjoy the game. I know I will,” you responded with a devious smirk.

Kevin groaned in irritation as he reclaimed the spot next to you. You felt his pillowy, soft lips press against your cheek, moving to that spot behind your ear. He smiled at the shiver his actions pulled from you. Fighting back a grin, you playfully rolled your eyes. With a mouthful of chicken, you responded, “Still not forgiven. You'll have to do more groveling than that, boo.”

He leaned close, whispering in your ear, “That's cute. Trust me, love. I have my ways. Daddy knows how to make it up to you. Wait until I get you alone.”

“Bro! We can hear you,” Adam complained.

“I’m beginning to wonder how this isn’t your second or third baby, Kev,” Voight teased.

Hank joked as the other two sat there, blushing like crazy. Covering your face, you awkwardly laughed with embarrassment.

“I’d get up and leave you to fend for yourself, but I can’t exactly make a run for it these days,” you ribbed Kevin.

As you were about to shrink into yourself sheepishly, the doorbell went off, and you left Kevin to deal with taunts and teases from his work family. With a firm grasp of his forearm and shoulder, you lifted off the couch. Looks of admiration rained upon you as each man watched the cute waddle you made toward the entrance.

Damn near breathless from the short distance, you took a moment to catch your breath. “Baby? Are you good?” You waved him off, telling him to calm down, and pulled open the door. Burgess and Upton’s eyes shone with excitement as they started to make a fuss over your growing baby bump. You chuckled as they questioned why you’d been the one to answer. The minute the three of you entered the living room, Burgess crossed the room, bopping Adam and Kevin upside the head as Upton chastised Halstead and Voight.

“Ladies, please. Don’t be too hard on the fellas. They all offered, but I refused,” you waved your hands. “You guys know I’m stubborn.

“As hell,” Kevin interjected.

“You want static with me so bad,” you sassed.

Kevin threw his hands up in surrender and bit his lip, slightly turned on by your attitude. Behind that sexy smirk was playfulness and something else you couldn’t quite figure out. Adam cleared his throat, “Ladies, not to be disrespectful, but can you stop giving us a hard time? We promise to behave if you just let us watch the game.”

Kim rolled her eyes, mumbling, “You’re making it very hard to like you right now. The couch is calling your name.”

Before Adam could dig himself into a deeper hole, you directed the women toward the kitchen where your peace and sanctuary awaited you.

“I’ll take this,” you said, snatching your wings from Kevin’s grasp. “I’m not sharing either,” you mocked. He nodded his head, sucking his bottom lip in. “Alright, ma. Keep it up. I’m keeping a tally.” You chuckled, turning to head further into the kitchen. You had to have the last word.

“When will you stop with these hollow, empty threats, dear sweet husband?”

Kevin’s head pushed back into the couch cushion behind him as he watched you walk away. He groaned to himself, or so he thought.

“Leave that poor woman alone, bro,” Adam joked.

“I can’t help it. That woman knows how to keep me on my toes, and I live for it.”

Every man in the living room had been hyper-focused on the game except for the man of the house. The sassiness you had given him earlier had heat simmering inside him. Your attitude always sparked a desire in him. His hands vibrated with a need to grab a handful of you. Kevin wanted nothing more than to have a moment alone with you.

Pulling himself from his lustful thoughts, he cleared his throat, “I’m going to go grab another beer. Anybody want one?”

The crew nodded “yes” in unison, eyes still fixated on the television screen. Kevin leaned against the kitchen archway, listening to the animated conversation among the women. You could feel his eyes on you, and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips.

“Is there something that you need, Mr. Atwater,” you questioned with a playful edge.

Your eyes connected with his before slowly trailing down to his bottom lip, tucked between his teeth. Hidden behind the lip bite was a sinful smirk that screamed trouble. Kim and Hailey’s stares bounced between the two of you. Clearing her throat, Kim stuttered, “You know think I hear Adam calling? Hailey, you want to join me? We’ll meet you two in the living room, yeah,” she questioned, both women not giving you time to respond.

“Traitorous heifers,” you mumbled under your breath.

You stood behind the kitchen island, arms crossed, watching Kevin make slow, calculated strides toward you. He stepped behind you, gently grabbing your waist and turning you to face him. The giant man towered over you, licking his soft, plump lips. The action alone caused you to bite back a moan. He bent lower as his mouth ghosted over your own.

“You still mad at me, baby?”

“Mad? No. Irritated, yes,” you finished, neck rolling a bit.

Kevin chuckled lightly, and in a flash, he grasped your hips, lifting you and depositing you onto the counter. Standing between your parted thighs, he leaned in and trailed his lips from your chest to the side of your neck. It slipped your mind that the house wasn’t empty, and a moan escaped your lips.

“Shhh, mamas. Don’t forget we have company.”

“Then let me down,” you gasped as his lips gently suckled your flesh.

“Not a chance in hell. Got you right where I want you now.”

“K-Kevin, seriously. You're getting me all wound up. The baby finally settled and stopped kicking me every five minutes. Don't get her started up again. Down. I want too get down,” you whined like a toddler.

“Tell me you're no longer irritated. I don't want to beef with you anymore, love. If you promise we’re good, I'll let you down,” he smirked.

“You're so irritating,” you responded playfully, rolling your eyes. “Fine, we're good!”

His hand cupped your chin as he pecked your lips continuously. It sent you into a fit of giggles. Your hand daringly wrapped around his throat to the best of its ability. Kevin groaned, pulling his plump lip between his teeth.

“I know that look. What you tryna do with a house full of guests, Mr. Atwater?”

Before your husband could reply, Voight’s voice boomed from the living room, “You two aren't as discreet as you believe yourselves to be. Atwater, halftime is over. Leave that sweet woman alone.”

“Yes sir!”

His lips landed a kiss on your forehead as he promised, “I'm taking your fine ass on a date tomorrow night.”

Kevin swept you off the counter, helping you find your footing as your swollen feet met the hardwood floors. He leaned in giving you one last sensual kiss, promising to ravish you once the two of you were alone.

Hope you all enjoyed it! Feel free to love, reblog, and leave a comment, lovelies🩵.

Tagging:

@darqchilddaydreamz @4everbrookemarie @starrynite7114 @nightlywords7 @amorestevens @sunshine-flower @boomclapxox @astoldbychae @percosim

@skyesthebomb @tbugger01 @thatbrowngruul

[ninapi]

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┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺╚══ Kimetsu Daddies: Vol.1 ╝

Premise: Everyone has insecurities and parenting can certainly bring even more to the plate. Taking a trip to memory lane to the first days of his fatherhood journey makes Sanemi realize maybe he isn't half bad himself.

Word Count: 3639

Note: This is a prequel of sorts for my previous story "Liquid Sunshine" (which you can read here if you haven't yet), starting right after bonus chapter 2, but this is also the beginning of a new series as you might have guessed by the title change, lol. My love @huh01011 requested some smut to be added to this series, I must warn you all, I am not a smut writer, and there's not as much in it as I wanted it to be, but I tried to incorporate some in a way~ Also tagging pookie @cock-ainee who wanted to be tagged here ❤️

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Summer was a dreaded season in the Shinazugawa household.

The excessive moisture in the air made almost impossible to work the fields for the younger lads adding even more load to the already overworked Sanemi.

Sanehiko, who could stand such temperatures, was the only one able to aid his father with the animals and the fields as his beloved mother was feeling under the weather.

The last few weeks had been odd. After having such an eye opening conversation with the children, your mood had been sour, making Sanemi feel he had done something wrong.

Dealing with so many little ones, he assumed you were just a bit overwhelmed, baby Sae was still a very demanding baby and Senri, who just started walking on his own, has been climbing trees and running around like a madman, plenty of reasons to be a bit grouchy.

But that was far from reality.

“Sanehiko, where’s your mother?” Sanemi asked his eldest as he hauled the entire harvest of tomatoes on his back.

“Last time I saw her, she was cleaning her own puke near the bath.”

The sound of exploding tomatoes hitting the scorching hot ground made Sanehiko shudder at the thought of the lost produce, “WHAT? She was doing WHAT?”

“Ugh…she was…” the boy stuttered, his mother wont be pleased knowing some of the tomatoes were squashed down by his father’s annoyance and it was most definitely his fault…”She was…ummm…on the floor? Yes, she was on the floor, with a rag cleaning after her…” he smiled proudly, able to recount the facts with as much details as possible without sounding so aggravating.

“Why was she on the floor Sanehiko? Is your mother sick?” panic was written all over Sanemi’s face, if there’s something that terrifies him is the thought of ever loosing you.

Thinking back, Sanehiko realizes he isn’t even sure why his mother was in such predicament, making him feel worse for not stopping to help her, “Not sure father, Genma is the one in charge of mother…I had to come get the milk out on time…”

“Tch, bring the tomatoes inside.” without a second thought, Sanemi marched back inside the house, in search of his darling wife who seemed to be feeling even worse than he thought.

When he found you, Genma was rubbing your belly in soothing circles while you clutched a pillow close to your face, “Hey, my love…what’s wrong…?” his tone of voice was laced with honey, he hated seeing you in distress and he knew you’ve been struggling lately.

“Nemi…” your voice was so weak almost a whisper, he could barely hear you.

“Yes, baby tell me…” holding your hand, he crouched down beside you, giving your knuckles an adoring kiss.

“I-…another one is coming…”

“What do you mean, babe?” realization hit him hard, your pale face, the morning discomfort, lack of appetite, uncomfortable nights…”Oh….OH?…you’re pregnant again, my love??” his eyes went from imminent despair to happiness overload in a mater of seconds, making you chuckle.

“I think so yeah, pretty sure actually, Nemi…isn’t it too fast…? I…I honestly thought Sae would be the last one…at least for a while...”

“Do you not feel comfortable having more children, baby?” sadness could be heard in his voice, but he would respect your wishes, no matter what they were.

“It’s not that, my love…it’s just…my body is still tired, Sae is still breastfeeding, I guess this time is really taking a toll on me, that’s all. Of course I want to bring your babies to this world.” your gentle reassurance brought him back to life, you were all that mattered to him, his entire life, a gift he had been given, one he would protect at all cost.

Forgetting his tiny son was around is one of Sanemi’s traits now a days, Genma was listening to the entire thing, mauling things over in his little head silently while you held each other, his sister however, had been hiding under the window seal, also listening.

“Mama, what’s pr’gnant?” Remi climbed her way into the room through the window, quickly sitting beside Genma.

“It’s when mommy has a baby inside of her, angel.”

Genma gasped loudly, “You did this to her, didn’t you father?! That night! I knew it, you hurt her!”

“No, no baby. Your father didn’t hurt me…he gave us another member of our family, it’s just…you know summer is tough on me, my love, having a baby inside is harder at the beginning, I’ll be ok in a few weeks, I promise.”

Sanemi was speechless, he couldn’t believe his son kept insisting on him hurting you, like if that was actually a thing, he was incapable of hurting a single hair of your head and he would have thought his own son would know this.

“But mother! You shouldn’t have to be this sick! We are already so many in this house! I don’t want you to be sick! Please stop putting babies inside of her, father!” the toddler started wailing, his sister not completely understanding why he was in such distress, hugged him gently. “Mama is ok, nii-nii, don’t cry…”

Sanehiko came into the room when he heard his brother crying, Sae sleeping on his back while Senri was holding his hand, “Genma? What’s wrong?”

“Mama ate a baby and he’s sad…”

“She what?” this time Senri was the one who started crying, his sister’s words scaring the hell out of him.

“I’m pregnant again, love. That’s all.”

“Oh yeah, I thought so. We heard you after all, that’s just how it works, right father?” Sanemi just nodded absentmindedly, while he was happy with the news, he started questioning his fathering skills lately. Genma clearly doesn’t trust him and even thinks he’s capable of hurting his mother, what could possibly led him to think that way? Was he a good father even? He knows he’s strict, having to provide for such a large family isn’t easy, discipline is needed, but he loves his children and he thought they knew it…

Getting up from his spot beside you without saying a word, he walked outside of the house and up a small hill he goes to when he needs to think. Contemplating his own mistakes was more daunting that he ever imagined, memories of Genma’s constant terrified face hunting him.

Sanehiko left the babies in your care and ran after his dad, “Father, are you ok? Mother looked worried…Is the baby sick?”

“No…no, the baby is fine…is your brother who worries me..”

“You mean Genma? Or Senri?” he plopped beside his dad, both had the exact same pose, legs crossed, a half scowl on their faces, it was like seeing himself in a mirror, just that without scars.

“Genma…”

Nodding, Sanehiko let out a sigh, he understands his dad’s predicament, Genma isn’t a difficult kid, he is actually quite a sunshine, but he is obsessed with his own mother and that makes Sanemi’s odds against him most of the times.

“He stopped crying already, father. It’s not that he doesn’t want another sibling, he just doesn’t like it when mother is sick. This time she really is in bad shape though, is it the heat again?”

“Yeah…heat has always been hard on her, specially when she’s in her first trimester…” that made Sanehiko think, none of his siblings had been in that part of pregnancy during summer, not that he can remember at least. “Really? Was it Genma?”

“No, it was you actually…” the memory of you throwing your guts out of the window during summer nights made a faint smile grace his lips.

“Was I a difficult baby, father?” Sanemi’s smile just kept growing with the memories, “Not at all, you were the quietest of all, a true gift…” 

Sanehiko had never seen his father this soft before, it felt oddly comforting knowing he was talking about him just now. “Did I give mother a hard time then? I feel like we’ve never talked about this before…” 

It was crazy, but true. Having to run a farm kept you both very busy and the more babies came, the harder its been to just sit down with your eldest and have a nice chat.

“We were young and inexperienced when you came to this world. For the longest time we thought you were a virus because she couldn’t eat a single thing without puking…” a soft chuckle left his lips as he remembers those sleepless nights of him rubbing your back until you could fall asleep on his lap, holding you while the moon shone above you, illuminating your beautiful face. Those days were quiet, nothing like the ones you have today, and honestly, he kind of misses them. Having you all to himself all day, all night…the intimacy and love remains, but there’s limitations to what he can or cannot do now.

Sanehiko chuckled along shaking his head, a clear image of his mother being painted by his father. “How did you guys know it was me and not a virus then?”

“Hmmmm…after a lot of arguing, I threw your mother over my shoulder and took her to see the doctor downtown, she wasn’t eating and it was making me anxious…”

“You're just like Genma, father.”

“Huh? What do you mean just like Genma? He’s the least similar to me from all your siblings.”

He shook his head, smiling “He’s just like you, father. Mother yawns and one of you is right by her side with a blanket, she coughs and there’s fresh tea in front of her in seconds. She makes a slight noise and the entire house is checking on her, those are the Shinazugawa genes, father, they come from you.” 

Maybe he was right, maybe he and Genma had more in common that he thought, getting the child to see that would be harder though.

“So, you took mother to the doctor. What’d he say?” this is the first time Sanehiko has story time with his father since he’s a little kid, it made him feel fuzzy inside and wanted to hear more of his upbringing.

Sanemi seeing his interest, turned to face him with a grin on his face, “Then he tells us she isn’t sick but round and full with our first child. I still remember that day like it was yesterday, man was I happy…” 

“You were happy because I was inside of mother?” he wasn’t expecting to hear that, while he knows his father loves getting his mother pregnant, he isn’t one to celebrate or smile like that.

“Of course! There was nothing I wanted more back then than to see your mother stuffed full with my child. I can’t expect you to understand this yet, but there is nothing better than knowing a piece of you lives inside the woman you love…”

“A piece of you…am I a piece of you, father?”

“Damn straight you are, son. Half of me, half of your beautiful mother, the result of our never ending love…”

“I’m the result of your love…” Sanehiko has never felt this loved before, his parents are usually very caring and understanding, but hearing his stoic father saying such a thing made his eyes fill up with tears.

“You really love mother, don’t you father?”

“More than I could ever thought possible, son…” Sanemi’s smile was pure, soft, love could be felt from the air around him, it was palpable.

“And…us?” while he was scared of asking, he knew his father loved him, yet somehow he needed validation.

“I love every single one of you with all my heart. Even when it doesn’t seem like it.”

Sanehiko scooted closer, wrapping his arms around his father in a way to comfort his aching heart, “We know you do.” resting his cheek on his son’s fluffy hair, they stay there in silence, until you called out for your eldest for help.

Sanemi decided to stay a little longer contemplating life once more.

Thinking about the days when you two were younger and so very much in love brought a permanent smile to his face. 

Sanehiko’s arrival was indeed the peak of his lifetime.

When you agreed to let him move with you to the farm for good, it took just a couple of hours before he had you pinned to the bathroom wall, this time without clothes in between, marks of his passion for you littering your beautiful silky skin, those gorgeous lips parted for him and screaming his name as he rammed into you nonstop, quite the memory really.

And it continued for a while, every day and night the growing needs to posses you, to fill you up with his essence, was overbearing. He needed the world to see you were claimed, to see you were his and his alone, that every single bit of skin on that beautiful body of yours was his, that your heart and all your love within it was exclusively just for him.

Memories of your face contouring with pleasure as he sucked on your perfect perky breasts like it was his last meal, the screams leaving your pretty lips and carrying his name through the wind every time he pushed himself within you as deep as he could and then some. The heat inside of you squeezing him dry, then making him hard once again at how good it felt to have you cum around his aching manhood, at how tightly you clenched around him with your core, holding onto him like if your life depended on it. He truly misses those days when his name echoed in every single wall of the house, your melodic moans and the sound of your heavy breathing all that could be heard for miles.

But when he held his first child in his arms, his world got upside down. He just didn’t know what to do with himself.

While he had witnessed all the birthing of his siblings, he had never felt such a bond before. The way Sanehiko’s eyes were barely open, how he held to his large manly thumb for dear life and hugged it to sleep, how he would snuggle on his chest and just lay there for hours just changed him.

You were his angel, his wife, the woman he loved from almost the moment he met you. A true gift from the heavens, but this baby…this little human in his arms….he was the outcome of your passion, of your fierce love for one another, he held all your dreams, your future, this tiny little thing who fit in his palm was the reason you both lived to that day, he was your anchor, the very core of your family, your reason to get up every day and make a living out of that devastated farm.

Sanehiko meant hope, joy, love. His first child, the one he so wished to have, his pride.

While he thought you’d be pregnant right after Sanehiko was born, because being real, he had his way between your legs daily; Genma didn’t come for a while.

You had time to bond with your first child, get to know him, play with him, teach him how to tend the animals. Being a parent isn’t easy, a first born gets to experience all the ‘firsts’ after all, but overall the learning experience helped you both create patterns for the future babes. While none of the kids were alike, at least it gave you a foundation already stablished to raise your children, and it worked quite well. Until lately, that is.

The heat was finally dimming down a little signalizing the day was coming to an end, the need to check on you being more significant than the dread he felt of facing Genma.

Heading inside the house he noticed Sanehiko was reading a story to the younger kids, Remi being already asleep on his leg. The sight made him smile, memories of little newborn Sanehiko still fresh in his mind.

In your room, Genma was still looking a bit sulky but you looked way better, lunch already gone from your system.

“Hey beautiful…felling better?” he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You’re normally not as physically affectionate in front of the children, but you could feel your man needing comfort.

“I am, baby. Don’t worry, our child is going to be as healthy as the rest, of that I’m sure. You know the heat hunts me when I’m pregnant…” your soft giggles made him smile, “Yeah I was telling Sanehiko that story earlier, how you’d puke every night and could only sleep on my lap…” his smile turned to a smirk, his lips finding your neck to give it a little nip.

“Mmmmm yeah…good old times…we need to time babies better so I never have to spend another first trimester in summer again though…” groaning you turned your head to bury your face in his soft hair, his natural scent was just so comforting, it made you feel better almost immediately.

“Yeah, I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to…” his soft tone and apology startled Genma, he’s rarely ever heard his father saying his sorry for anything, let alone be this gentle.

“I’m just as guilty of this as you are, my love. You don’t need to apologize. On the contrary, thank you for giving me another treasure…” the feeling of your soft nose buried in his hair was making him feel so emotional. Earlier he had felt like he sucked at being a parent but after bonding over it with Sanehiko and reminiscing of the time he was born, he just feels so complete…

“Thank you, babe…without you…I wouldn’t….I…I don’t know what I’d do or where I’d be without you…” his words were chocked up, Genma was still in shock, he could feel the emotional state of his broken father filling up the air.

“Father…are you ok…?” Genma held onto Sanemi’s leg, hugging it with his tiny body. It’s been a while since he feels his toddler’s warmth.

“I am son, thank you for asking.” 

“Father…I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier, I don’t understand this baby thing very well…but I know you wouldn’t hurt mother now…” Sanemi’s heart grew three sizes, he didn’t know he needed to hear this so badly, but turns out he did.

“You know? Sanehiko told me earlier that you’re very similar to me…that your obsession with your mother is all my fault for being your father…” that made you laugh, while it is true, it’s kind of ridiculous.

“You two are very similar that’s true, loving, gentle, big hearted sweethearts and gorgeous babes~” the last part made Genma fall into a crazy fit of giggles.

“Mother, how was I as a baby? I know Nii-chan was very attached to father, was I always attached to you?”

“Well yes, you’ve always been very much a mama’s boy…but when you were born…God…I had to line up to get some time with you, your father would hog you away and keep you all to himself all the time, even Sanehiko was jealous back then!” 

“I did not hog our child, ok? I was just…happy…” Genma’s little ears turned bright pink, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You were happy because I looked like my uncle?” while that was part of it originally, it wasn’t just that, he truly had a wonderful bond with his sons, he was happy to welcome a new one after so long, Sanehiko was already a toddler back then and having such a cute little baby coddled up on his chest would make his heart sing every time.

“No, when you were born you were bald, we didn’t even know you would have dark hair.” that was a lie, but it made the child glow with happiness, being cared for just for his similarities to his uncle is something he’s feared his whole life.

“Bald? I didn’t know I was an ugly baby!”laughing wildly, Sanemi lets go of your waist to pick his son up in his arms, “Nah you were the cutest baby I’ve ever laid eyes on…”

“Cuter than Sae? She’s real cute, father…” his little hands wrapped around Sanemi’s head, his cute tiny nose nuzzling the side of his face as he giggles happily, this sort of affection normally reserved just for you, made Sanemi think he might have been finally forgiven by his son.

“Oh she is, alright, she looks just like your mama. But you…your eyes were so full of love even when you were a day old…I’ll never forget the first time you smiled at us…We knew we were blessed that day…” Genma has never been this clingy with Sanemi, but it felt just right, it reminded him of a young Genya clinging onto him for support and for comfort, days that had been long forgotten, days he holds dear in his heart, those days filled with nothing but happiness, those came back thanks to you, thanks to the beautiful family you two were able to build based on love and trust.

Being a father isn’t easy, and six is indeed a very large number, but he would do it all over again as many times as needed just to see the smile in your face every time they’re around.

“But father, are you going to explain me now how does the baby pee work? Can you make more when she has a baby inside already? Do they line up? Or do you like turn it off? I’ve been smelling your tea, I didn’t notice anything different, I still want to know what you need to drink to make babies…”

“Oh god…not again…”

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Masterlist Previous Chapter

[yallthemwitches]

A Tiny Spell

“Yeah well—I’ve planned to marry her the day I met her. I haven’t asked yet, but it's only a matter of time really.” He leans in and gives her a soft kiss on the cheek, letting his lips linger there in a way that says I’m saying it to make them fuck off but I do mean it. Petunia’s eyes hop between keeping eye-contact with her sister and the place where James’ lips connected with her skin, fury mounting. “Lily, can I have a word?”

Written for @jilytoberfest Day 21, prompt: "How long have you been standing there?" "Longer than you'd like."

AO3 Link

The surrounding sound of clinking glasses and jovial conversation serve as a reminder that shared meals aren’t normally supposed to be this hostile. Lily hadn’t even wanted to come tonight besides to appease her father, and she didn’t need confirmation to know that Petunia didn’t want her there either—the one sentence note stating that she wouldn’t be in the bridal party made that very clear already. The only thing tethering her to the table was the access to free wine and a very warm, reassuring hand caressing her thigh under the table. 

“James–please tell us. How did you get to be so athletic?”

Vernon’s step-mum cranes herself over the twinkling electric candle, staring at James with eyes that would make even Mrs. Robinson blush. Ever since the second bottle of red, she has interrogated him like he’s a contestant in a speed dating show.

“I play sports actually,” James starts in, treating every question like a riddle to be solved, “I’m the captain of the, uh—”  He clears his throat, fingers giving a warning squeeze on her thigh below the table. 

“A cricket team.” Lily finishes for him, casting a wary glance. She knew that some of Vernon’s family would be at the dinner, but she hadn’t had time to give him a full run down of who knew about their “condition” (as Petunia and Vernon called it) and who didn’t. Unfortunately, that meant James had to fend for himself, fielding questions in an awkward stunted way that made him seem either high or thick or both. 

‘Yeah, that,” James says a bit too cheerful, giving her a lingering kiss on the temple (“Cricket? Like the bug?” She feels him mouth against her skin). Across the table Petunia scoffs, cutting into her steak like she wants to make sure it’s properly dead. 

“And what do you plan to do for work? The step-mum continues to interrogate, not bashful in the slightest that she hasn’t directed a question or comment at the engaged couple for the better half of an hour. “Petunia told me you both are graduating soon. An able-bodied lad like yourself must have something lined up.”

It’s another question that would be best avoided. To be fair, even the truth is a little outrageous. “Oh you know, since there’s a raving lunatic starting a blood war, we figure we will just bop around and fight against that for a bit–then maybe start a family? 

“James' parents are very elderly and getting along—we figure we will take some time off to care for them.”

Vernon makes a snorting noise that resembles a cough. “And you have funds to live that sort of lifestyle?”

She knows he is making a jab. Vernon would know better than anyone that the Evans’ family is not exactly well off. Her Dad struggled with odd jobs all their life and mum didn’t have a cent to her name when she passed. Vernon even took it as a point of pride to bring Petunia into a respectable, well paid household once they married. 

“Oh yeah,” James perks up, finally happy to have something he can boast about, “Got loads of gold in the bank. Tried to convince mum and dad to spend it on a trip to Transylvania while they still had the spirit to travel, but they insist that Lils and I take it while we–er handle things.”

“Wow veeery generous your parents—and to support Lily too,” Vernon’s step-mum slurs out. 

“Yes,” Petunia chimes in, face hard set, “Very generous that it almost sounds like you two are also engaged.”

Lily returns her sister’s stare, seeing the smoldering anger rising up in her eyes. It goes unnoticed by James who swings an arm over her shoulder with a grin. 

“Yeah well—I’ve planned to marry her the day I met her. I haven’t asked yet, but it's only a matter of time really.” He leans in and gives her a soft kiss on the cheek, letting his lips linger there in a way that says I’m saying it to make them fuck off but I do mean it.

Petunia’s eyes hop between keeping eye-contact with her sister and the place where James’ lips connected with her skin, fury mounting.

“Lily, can I have a word?” Petunia stands up, not waiting to hear if Lily accepts or declines. James gives her a reassuring squeeze to her thigh and lets his fingertips slide down her leg as she stands. As Lily follows her sister, she can hear Vernon’s step-mum’s voice waft into the background, “You must know that you are very attractive, James–”

She follows her sister as they weave through a dining room full of boisterous guests until they reach the dimly lit hallway that leads to the powder room. Reaching a relatively secluded spot, Petunia turns on her heel, almost making Lily bump face first into her. 

“How dare you.” She hisses out.. “First you come to my engagement dinner touting some weirdo who doesn’t know how to use a comb, then you somehow find a way to make it all about yourself, tossing around all this bosh about family gold and getting engaged and-”

“Tuney, you brought it up!” Lily tries to get control of her voice, lowering it down to a whisper. “If I had it my way, James and I would have sat and drank our wine in silence—or better, not even come.”

Petunia scoffs, crossing her arms against her chest. 

“Oh course Lily. Always the martyr, always being perfect and doing the right thing, always getting the fit freak boys with tons of gold so you don’t have to feel pain like the rest of us.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Lily’s voice raises again but this time she doesn’t stop it, “Look I’ve tried to play nice sister—for seven years I have—but I can’t keep doing this. You’ve made me into a monster by your own design and I’m just trying to be supportive.”

Petunia clutches her fists, face becoming hard-lined in the shadows of the hallway.

“He’ll leave you–when he realizes how much of a freak you really are.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, but the damage is deafening. Sometimes Lily thought her sister really was magical–she always had a knack for cutting someone to the raw depths of their subconscious.

“That’s what happened with that Snape boy too–don’t deny it. He finally saw what you were—a freak even in your own little ridiculous world.”

Lily feels the tears before she even registers her sadness. Petunia just watches, eyes cold, pressing her fingers into the wound and twisting for good measure. 

“You’re wrong.” Her voice is weak, unconvincing. “I know James loves me—he tells me everyday. You don’t know anything about my life.”

“Well people lie.” Petunia’s voice quivers on the last word. “And I don’t want anything to do with your disgusting life.” Not waiting for a response, she pushes past her sister, disappearing back into the dining room. 

Lily leans against the wall for a moment, holding onto a coat rack for support. She wipes at her face, frantic to push past the horrible words that are reopening the wound that has managed to be pulled apart more and more as the years pass and war arrives on her doorstep: even her world is no longer hers. She is just a target amongst her own people; a freak among freaks. 

“Alright Evans?” James' voice rings out from the end of the hall and a leg appears in the foreground before the rest of his body comes into view. Shucking off the invisibility cloak, he stuffs it into his pocket before turning on her, eyes full of remorse. 

“How long have you been there?” She tries to sound stern, but a quavering squeak comes out instead.

“Probably longer than you like—oh Lils…”

His arms curl around her, face now pressing into the shirt which he borrowed from Remus just for the occasion. His smell has already pervaded the fabric, the scent of spice and autumn wood grounding her back from her anxieties. 

“Tell me you know your sister is mental right?” He breaths it into her hair, starting to press kisses from the forehead down. “I know you hate it when I say it, but I think I get a free pass on calling her a bitch this time.”

He says it to try to make her laugh, but instead she just burrows her face deeper into his chest. He presses a hand into the small of her back, cradling her against him. 

“You know I’m not going anywhere right? I love you—absolutely nutter about you. Merlin, I’d be a lost shell of myself if you left.”

“But she’s not wrong. I’m still a freak. If I’m not a freak here as a witch, I’m a freak as a muggleborn.”

James takes her shoulders and rips her away just enough to stare hard into her eyes. 

“Evans, are you telling me you are more of a freak than Vernon Dursley? Then Bellatrix Lestrange? Honestly, I’m not a betting man but if we did a poll I think you’d come out the most normal of the lot.”

That finally gets her to laugh, imagining Vernon Dursley and any of the Lestrange family rubbing shoulders. 

“There she is.” James pulls her back, cradling her face softly to press tiny kisses onto her nose and cheek bones. 

“Do we need to look at the note for good measure? Reckon we do…” He pulls away and reaches for her hand bag and she knows what he is fishing for right away. He finds a small zipper wallet that holds a mixture of muggle and wizard money and prods his finger inside until a tiny scrap of parchment appears.

Turning her so her back is flush against his chest, his arms wrap around her as he unfurls the tiny paper. Written in his angular script, the note reads:

I love you and things are okay. 

It’s something he wrote one full moon when she was feeling particularly anxious, but since the impending war it has taken on a more multi-purpose use. It is their personal tiny spell to keep the fears and sadness at bay.

“See? The paper never lies.” He moves in to kiss her temple but she turns her head, catching his lips with his. They stay like that for a while, feeling whole again.

“Do we have to go back in there?” She groans when they part. The idea of reopening the wound she just closed feeling too unbearable to manage. 

He gives her a squeeze and a kiss to her pressure point. “Nah, I already made up some lie about us needing to get back to my parents—that’s why I came to get you in the first place.”

They walk towards the door hand in hand. He feels sturdy under her, like a buoy in a never ending storm. As they step out into the night air, James halts. 

“Oh, there is one thing.” He sounds sheepish, guilt plastered on his face. “You know how I was wearing the cloak? Well—I might have gone and pulled the tablecloth out from under everyone’s meal. It was a huge mess—absolutely brilliant. Vernon got gravy all down his trousers…” his words teeter off like a child admitting to a mistake. “Please don’t be cross with me.”

She looks at him. His bashful act is betrayed by a twitch of amusement at the corners of his lips and it hits her that if he proposed that second, she would say yes. 

“Cross with you– James Potter? Never would dream of it.”

AU: I try not to be too personal on here but I'll allow myself to dedicate this one to my partner who gave me a note just like this at the beginning of our relationship five years ago. Nowadays it's crumpled and water stained but we look at as often as we need it.

[honey-riley]

Love You To Death || S.R.

WARNINGS: Military themes, guns, weapons, violence, detailed gore, mentions of Simon's past.

A/N: This contains an OC :) her name is Honey Tailer (my user is after her 🫡), she's German, so I hope you brought your google translate or other translators. There are more descriptors of her in the story itself <3

A/N pt.2: I'm learning German, and for most of the dialog in German, I use a translator. So, if anything is incorrect in German, don't behead me pls.

wc: 5.9k

1 || 2

War.

That's all that ever ran through him. A traumatized, mean, brooding war machine. Ever since he was little, that's all he could remember. The war within his household, the constant abuse that his father passed around. The constant abuse he endured as a child had profound and lasting effects on him. It shaped his worldview, eroded his sense of self-worth, and left him with deep emotional scars that manifested in his brooding and mean demeanor. The war within his household became the war within himself, and it consumed him every day.

He had never truly felt warmth. Sure, he had happy moments, moments where he could forget the trauma, moments where the gray cloud looming above him would clear. But only for a moment. He was human after all. The impact of his traumatic childhood on his relationships was profound. He struggled to form deep connections with others, always keeping them at arms length, afraid of being hurt again. His fear of vulnerability and his need for control made it difficult for him to trust and open up to others, resulting in a cycle of loneliness and isolation.

Riddling himself with routines, sticking to schedules, running everything in a timely, comfortable manner is what he loves. What he thrived on. It was something that he knew he could rely on. Every morning, he would wake up at the exact same time, following a strict routine that he had meticulously planned out. From the moment he opened his eyes to the moment he closed them again at night, every minute of his day was accounted for. He found solace in the predictability of his schedule, as it provided a sense of control and stability in a chaotic world. His routines became his lifeline, a way for him to regain some semblance of order in his life and protect himself from the unpredictable nature of human interactions.

So, the day that someone broke that routine for him, that was a day that he was going to remember.

Preparing for a mission, he went in with his normal routine - shower, get his gear on, put the mask on, prepare mentally, head to base, scan in, have breakfast, pack his tactical vest, check his gear, clean his weapons, and head out to the chopper by 0400.

This time, when he got to the chopper, there was a new face. Striking green eyes, long black hair that was slicked back into a regulatory military bun, fair skin, and God, was she short. Standing at four feet, eleven inches, just barely meeting the height requirements.

"Lieutenant." Laswell nodded as he approached. "This is Sergeant Honey Tailer, hope you don't mind her joining you today." She added with a smile. Ghost stuck his hand out for Honey to shake, which she accepted, giving him a firm shake back.

He took in her appearance one more time, noting her black, polished boots, her uniform, which wasn't digital camo, but more like spotted camo. She had a German flag on her shoulders and on her tactical vest.

"My pleasure, Lieutenant." She smiled softly, her German accent apparent in her words. It wasn't strong, it was subtle, she sounded like she had been speaking English her entire life - but she hadn't.

"It's great to meet you, Sergeant." He nodded, releasing her hand.

"Honey's going to be your DM for today. She'll provide surveillance, make sure you guys keep your heads." Laswell grinned as she looked over at Honey. DM, or designated marksman, was a good position to be in - a position that they needed in the team.

The team then loaded into the chopper, strapping into their seats. Honey's rifle sat on her chest, the barrel pointing to the tin floor of the chopper as she looked out of the window. She stared off, lost in thought, devising a plan on how she would go about this. It was an in and out mission, quick and easy - if things went according to plan.

Honey would provide recon and examine from a distance, while the team went in, gathering intel, hopefully going undetected, then Soap would plant the bombs, they would all get back onto the chopper, where Soap would detonate them.

"You'll do just fine, kid." Price's gruff voice snapped her out of thought as he patted her on the shoulder. Honey shot him a small, tight lipped, slightly nervous smile. She was used to this kind of stuff, but to work with a team she had never met, find her groove all over again, and to do it in time, was nerve wracking.

"This isn't your first time, right?" Ghost grunted as he looked over at her, his voice deep, almost like a growl.

"No, sir. I've been deployed multiple times." She replied with a nod.

Ghost took that in an almost snooty, stuck up way. Like she was so young, and she had all this experience, and she sounded like she was bragging about it. That irked him.

Instead of saying anything, he stayed quiet, crossing his arms over his chest. To pass the time, Honey put her AirPods in, and turned on some music, letting out a small sigh as she leaned back into her chair.

There was something about her that Ghost didn't find appealing. Something about her annoyed him, but he couldn't tell what it was.

The metallic sound of her ring clanking against her rifle as she tapped her fingers to the beat of the song she was listening to only made his annoyance grow.

"Wha' song are ye listenin' to?" Soap asked, nudging her.

"Oh, Love You To Death by Type O Negative." Honey said, looking over at him with a small smile.

"Damn, gothic stuff." Soap chuckled, cuing Honey to nod. "Yer pal, Ghostie over there loves that kind of music." Soap chuckled, nodding towards Ghost, making him let out a small scoff.

Not only was Honey now annoying him, she also had the same taste in music? That felt like it wasn't going to fly with him for whatever reason. He was already annoyed that his routine had been disrupted, and now, her presence alone annoyed him more.

"Alright, team. We're landing in Verdansk, just to refresh, you are to take out Makarov. He's in a highly guarded area, with plenty of people surrounding him." Laswell said over the comms.

"Copy." Honey replied, letting out a small sigh. She was the one who was tasked with disturbing the hive - taking out Makarov. She had already been filled in on why they needed him dead, and all the other necessary things such as his identity, where he would be at, his rank, what he looked like.

Once the chopper landed Price divided everyone into partners, and one trio. Ghost and Honey were tasked with surveillance. Ghost was Honey's spotter.

'I'm gonna be stuck with this annoying, snooty, stuck up bitch?' Ghost thought to himself. He kept his opinions inward, thankfully. Usually, with new recruits, he was very vocal about his disdain for them. This time, he kept his mouth shut, just wanting to get the mission done quicker.

Honey established a sniper's nest, and laid on the roof of the building opposite of where the team would be infiltrating.

"What's the drag?" Honey whispered, looking through her iron sights, ready to set her rifle up.

"Not a clue." Ghost grunted as he looked through the scope of his own rifle, adjusting accordingly. He did know, he just wanted her to struggle a bit, make her more 'human' in his eyes.

"You're no help." Honey muttered under her breath, looking down her iron sights again. She glanced over at Ghost for a moment, turning to her own rifle, contemplating something.

She deftly reached over, sliding the scope off of his rifle.

'Now she's trying to fuck with my gear?' Ghost scorned in his own mind. He looked over at her, his brows furrowed under his mask before he snatched his scope back, sliding it back on.

"Du erzeugst ein Glitzern." She growled, taking it back off.

"English." Ghost muttered under his breath, starting to get pissed off.

"You're creating a glint. There's people in that building that can see you because of your scope." She growled, looking over at the moon for a second before looking back at him. She subtly lifted her hand, pointing at the opposing building, and indeed, a faint reflection from the scope could be seen if you knew where to look.

He let out an audible scoff, rolling his eyes. He adjusted his rifle, getting used to just using his iron sights.

"It's a 42 meter separation, the wind is blowing south-east. We're facing north-west. The wind is 6 knots. Light breeze." He replied, telling her what she would need to adjust her rifle.

"Any visuals on Makarov?" Laswell said through the comms.

Honey glanced through a pair of binoculars for a second, seeing Makarov working at a table in an empty room, his back turned to the window.

"Positive. Black, short hair, suit, I can't tell how tall he is, but Ghost can verify that it's him." Honey replied through the comms. "It's him, Kate." Ghost muttered into the comms. "Permission to take the shot?" Honey asked Laswell.

"Granted." Laswell replied.

Honey put down the binoculars and Ghost picked them up, ready to watch Honey shoot Makarov.

Honey lined up her shot, calculating the drag, and the possible path that the bullet would take once it hit the glass. Doubt nibbled at the edges of her mind, raising its voice as her finger hovered over the trigger. But she pushed it away, reminding herself of the countless hours of training. She took a deep breath, pulling the rifle tight to her shoulder, holding her breath so that the shot was steady. She loaded her chamber, taking the rifle off of safety, and slowly squeezed the trigger.

Ghost's heart raced. He felt a pang of jealousy, mixed with a swirl of emotions. 'This should've been mine,' He thought, his chest tightening. 'This is my team. What does she think she's doing, muscling in on my territory?' His fists clenched around the binoculars, sweat dripping from his temple.

The bullet shattered through the glass, sending a gory red mist into the air as Makarov's head exploded. Ghost's jaw clenched as his anger bubbled, the realization of what just happened setting in.

Honey laid her rifle down, staying on her stomach as she glanced over to Ghost. She could see the tension in his body, the balaclava clinging to his face with each heavy gasp for air. Unsure of how to respond to Ghost's obvious displeasure, she gave him a small, tight lipped, reassuring smile.

Ghost glared back, his eyes filled with the intensity of his rage. 'She's taken everything from me,' he thought. 'I can't let her win. I can't let her take this from me too.'

In the aftermath, the team sat in stunned silence, their gazes fixed on the lifeless body now sprawled on the floor. The reality of their success hung in the air, a weighty, shared accomplishment that lingered, tainted by Ghost's bitter resentment. This was a man that they had been tracking for years and Honey came in and shot him like it was nothing. Like it was the easiest thing in the world. And God, that smile afterwards pissed him off so much more.

'What the fuck is she doing? This was supposed to be my job. What the hell does she know about shooting?' Ghost fought with himself internally. He hated this. He ha=ted everything about her.

The pair watched as the team infiltrated the room, occasional gunfire sounding through the air. Honey watched as Soap went in, took a laptop and all the needed files, planting a few bombs on his way out.

Honey stood up, grabbing her rifle, unloading the chamber and putting it back onto safety. Ghost stood up as well, grabbing his own rifle, storming his way back down the flight of stairs to the ground floor.

"Ghost." Honey said as she followed him, her rifle slung over her back. He didn't bother waiting for her, or even listening to her. He silently stormed his way back to the chopper, getting in, and buckling himself up.

Honey set their things back where they belonged on the chopper, ensuring that nothing would fall out. There was an awkward silence as they waited for the rest of the team to get back to where the chopper was. Nikolai sat in the cockpit.

"How was the mission? You finally nail him?" Nikolai grinned, his thick Russian accent apparent in his words as he looked back through the door, glancing at Ghost.

"Honey did." Ghost muttered, his fists balled under his biceps as he crossed his arms. "Her shot was just luck." He added, looking outside of the chopper, avoiding eye contact. He knew it was more than luck - it was skill, but he didn’t want to admit it.

Honey winced at his words, looking over at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. She glanced away, keeping her eyes off of him. She had always been doubted. She had worked her entire life for this moment, and the entire time, she had been doubted. She didn't know why it even hurt at this point - she should've expected it. But, she was going to stand up for herself for once - even if it didn't work.

Honey looked at him, her brow furrowing. "Luck?" She asked, her voice slightly hurt. "I took the damn shot, calculated it. I did everything I needed to. And it's just luck? I’ve worked my entire life for this, I’ve worked my ass off. Making sure that I could make a damn shot." She added. Honey wanted to get frustrated, she wanted to argue, but she took a deep breath, keeping her mouth shut.

Ghost's jaw dropped slightly at her response. His glare softened, his unwavering anger faltering for the first time. He didn't know what to say to counter her words, her confidence - and for once, he found himself at a loss.

'All of my years of practicing, honing, just for it to be chalked up to luck? Fuck this guy.' Honey thought to herself, letting out a sigh. She wanted to be on this team, she had worked for it for years. She wanted to be on the top - the best of the best, and this was her chance. She wasn't going to ruin it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the rest of the team getting into the chopper, carrying files, laptops, and USB sticks. Everything that they could get their hands on that could be important, they took.

"Let's watch this puppy blow." Soap chuckled as he buckled into the chopper. Nikolai lifted the chopper off the ground, getting it a distance away before Soap pressed the button, making the entire building explode and collapse in on itself.

Honey watched as the orange and yellow flames licked the air, huge billows of smoke and debris shooting up into the air.

"Christ." Honey murmured, watching the smoke shoot up. The blast wave then hit the chopper, making it sway and vibrate. Nikolai quickly corrected, starting their flight back. The flight back to base was almost silent, everyone processing what had just happened, and why it had happened.

'Why was Honey the one to kill Makarov? Why was this new recruit the one who got to end the man we had fought to kill for years? And why was it so easy for her?' Ghost was furious at the thought of it.

'Why did she get the pleasure? The satisfaction?'

When they got back to base, Ghost just wanted to get his report filled and then think things through in his quarters, but of course, Laswell had other plans.

"You and Honey are bunking together." Laswell said as she opened the door to his quarters. Honey stood behind Laswell, her bag slung on her shoulder as well as a few other things in her hands - two pillows and a blanket.

"What about Soap?" Ghost asked, looking over at the other bed in the room - the bed where Soap slept. That side of the room was blank, Soap moved rooms.

"Soap bunked with Gaz. We don't have another room for Honey, so she's going with you." Laswell said, turning around and walking away. Honey came in quietly, her steps silent.

She placed her things on the bed, avoiding him. She busied herself with the task of getting her things set up - making the bed, putting her things in her dresser and closet.

"There are rules here." Ghost grunted as he watched her, his attention drawn away from his paperwork.

"Keep your shit on your side of the room, keep it clean, keep it neat, and don't talk to me." He added. Honey didn't do anything but nod as she folded her clothes. Pajamas, uniforms, dress uniforms, civilian clothes - they were all put away neatly.

There was something about her, something that kept his attention away from his paperwork. Something that kept him from focusing. Maybe it was the rage towards her, maybe it was the envy - there was something. Something that he hated. Something that Simon despised. Ghost hated it more.

What do we think of the first part, y'all? Do we love it? Hate it? Eh? Lmk what I can work on as well! My ask me is still open :))

[xxblairexxss]

You’re the other woman

Pairing : Mason Mount x reader

Theme : Fluff

I saw a tiktok video and thought it would be fun to come up with a short blurb with Mason. Enjoy! I haven’t proofread so I apologize for any mistakes.

Mason and you decided to be a cat parents because of your enormous obsession for them. It took you quite a while to persuade him but after a few attempts and fake tears, he finally gave in and boy, you were so ready to visit the shelter right there and then.

“Oh my god, Mase! Look at this one. It says ‘My past owner returned me back because I was too cuddly. I’m sorry…’ I’m gonna cry.” You bit on your bottom lips and felt your heart clenched at what you just read. Whatever the shelter did was clearly working on you because right now, you sworn you would have had all these cats loaded in Mason’s car if it wasn’t for him to stop you from doing so.

“Baby, you cried for the other cat we saw earlier as well. People gonna think we just had a fight.” He snaked his arm around your waist and planted a kiss on the side of your head. “Come on, let’s go further down.”

After what felt like days at the shelter, Mason and you decided to adopt a 4 years old tabby cat and named it Moori. Moori was well known amongst Mason’s fans because whenever they saw your Instagram story update, what they thought they would have gotten boyfriend pictures of Mason turned out to be pictures of Moori doing some random things most of the time.

ynusername has added to their story

What they didn’t know was that while you were obsessed with your furry child, she was actually a daddy’s girl. Whenever Mason laid down on the couch, she would immediately followed him and tucked herself under his chin to sleep. Even when she had her eyes closed, she would always replied back whenever Mason talked to her. She would sticked by his side whenever and wherever it seemed like he put her under a spell.

It was a random night when you decided to stand your phone against the couch to record a video of you cuddling Moori when she gave you a side eye for standing in front of her.

“Babe, I can’t believe she’s giving me a side eye. Look at her!” You gasped in shock and tilted your head to catch Mason’s gaze from the kitchen.

“Baby, move. We are in a middle of a conversation and you are blocking her way.”

“I can’t believe you.” Stepping aside, you were now no longer in the video frame as all it could capture was a shot of Moori looking at Mason who was in the kitchen with full of admiration.

“Have Moori had her little lunch?” Mason asked, talking as if he was talking to Mia.

She chirped back in response.

“Yeah? What did mommy feed you? Did she give you treats for being a good girl? No?”

She replied again with repeated meows.

“Poor baby. Come here, daddy will give you your favourite treats and cuddles.”

That was when she hopped off her cat bed and ran off to the kitchen, leaving you and your phone recording the whole scene. The recorded video was then being uploaded on your Tiktok account because you couldn’t help but found her squishy little face so adorable when she looked at Mason. Even when you knew doing so would have made you went from the main girl in the household to the other woman but you weren’t even mad because how could you?

[corroded-hellfire]

Where the Heart Is: Epilogue - Eddie Munson x Reader

Part 5

Summary: It’s moving day and the next chapter of your life with Eddie is beginning. And somewhere down the road, pieces of your heart collide with one another, making your anniversary all the more meaningful.

Note: The story has finally come to its close. It amazes me that this was never intended to be a series at all—it turned into one purely because it became so requested of me. It’s been a year since this fic first posted and the number of you who have stood by all this time to see it to the end hold such a special place in my heart. Thank you all for your kind words, generous reblogs, and all the love I’ve received over this story. I have loved writing in this world and would always be open to receiving requests in it. I hope you enjoy this little slice of their happily ever after 🧡

Words: 4.6k

[Where the Heart Is masterlist]

“Jesus Christ, Munson.”

Steve sits down on the edge of the U-Haul, trying to catch his breath after shoving Eddie’s amp on board. The bed of the moving truck is decently full already. The Harrington household was the first stop, and Steve’s things bound for Boston were loaded yesterday. 

Today at the Munsons, it’s time to do the heavy lifting. Well, for Eddie and Steve to do the heavy lifting. Not to say that you and Nancy aren’t helping, but you have the easier job of loading up the back of Eddie’s van with boxes full of clothes and other smaller and more delicate objects that are certainly lighter than the alternative. 

“What’re ya whining about now, Harrington?” Eddie says, sweat dripping from the curls that frame his face. His hair is in a bun at the base of his neck but it’s not enough to keep him cool in the late August heat. 

“That amp weighs more than your bed did,” Steve says. 

“No shit,” Eddie argues, wiping his sweaty forehead off on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Because one is a mattress and a basic frame to hold it up and the other is a goddamn expensive piece of musical equipment. I hope you didn’t ding it at all.”

“I’ll ding you,” Steve mumbles under his breath as he stands back up.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” Steve says as he hops up the steps back into the trailer. 

“How ya doing, babe?” you ask, coming over to Eddie after carrying a box of his D&D stuff over to his van. 

“Hot. Sweaty. Tired.”

“Aww,” you coo and wrap your arms around his neck. It doesn’t matter in the slightest to you that he’s all sweaty—you’ve been the cause of him getting sweaty many times before. Eddie rests his hands on your hips and pecks your lips. 

“Eddie!” Wayne calls from inside.

“Yeah?” 

“Are you bringing your desk?”

Your boyfriend chews on his bottom lip, deliberating. “Well, do you wanna keep it?”

“What the hell do I need a desk for?” Wayne asks, making you chuckle. 

“Okay, we’ll take it.” Eddie huffs a laugh and gives your hip a squeeze.

“I’m glad that Wayne’s getting a proper bedroom back,” you say.

“And I’m sure he’s glad that we’re bringing the old bed with us and he’s getting a new one. I don’t think he’d get much sleep on it thinking about what you and I have done on it.”

“That doesn’t even include you on your own for years before that,” you tease. Eddie digs his fingers into your ribs, making you squeal and giggle as he tickles you.

Nancy comes out of the trailer, balancing two medium sized boxes in her arms. She raises her eyebrows at Eddie as she walks past him to get to his van.

“Wayne looks like he’s planning on helping Steve carry that desk out here. I’d get your ass in there,” she warns.

Eddie sighs. “Ugh, stubborn old man.” He kisses the top of your head before disappearing inside his home—or rather, former home. 

You walk over and help Nancy load up the two boxes she just brought out. Both of you walk over towards the U-Haul and Nancy smacks her hand against the side of it.

“I am not looking forward to driving in this thing with Steve all day,” she says. “He’s never driven something this big but of course he’d never admit that it’ll be difficult.”

You chuckle and nod along, knowing your boyfriend would be the same way. You open your mouth to respond when you hear yelling coming from inside.

“No, tilt it like this!”

“I know what I’m doing!”

“Remind me to never let you work on my car if this is the way you handle things!”

Nancy sighs and shakes her head.

“Do you think it’s too late to tell them that they can’t move in with us?” she asks. 

Once everything is on the truck and ready to go, Steve and Nancy say their goodbyes to Wayne and slip into the front seats, giving you and Eddie the chance for a more private farewell. You give Wayne a big hug, which he happily returns.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him,” you promise.

Wayne chuckles and shakes his head as the two of you pull apart. 

“Just worried about how long before you call me to come pick him up ‘cause you’ve had enough of him.”

“Never,” you assure Wayne, taking one of his weathered hands in yours and giving it a squeeze.

“You heard her,” Eddie says, nodding his head towards you. “She’s never letting me go. I’m gonna be a prisoner.”

“Locked up in a nice Boston apartment with your girl and two of your best friends,” Wayne says, shaking his head. “When will justice be served?” 

When you step back from Wayne, you’re not sure if Eddie wants you to stay or go wait in the van while he says goodbye to the man who raised him. When your boyfriend playfully tugs your ear on the way to his uncle though, you take it as it’s fine for you to be here. 

“Well, I’ll see ya soon, Old Man,” Eddie says as he pulls Wayne in for a hug. 

“You drive safe, okay?” Wayne asks, his hand clapping his nephew on the back as they hug. “And I mean real safe, not ‘Eddie safe,’ okay? You got precious cargo there you’re carrying.” Wayne throws you a wink over Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Oh, I know,” Eddie says. He pulls back and sighs. “Gotta make sure my guitar gets to Boston unharmed.”

Wayne shakes his head and turns to you. “He ever acts up, just smack him on the back of the head. Like this.”

“Ow!” Eddie complains, reaching up to cover the spot where his uncle just thunked him. With a small giggle, you nod your head, affirming that you’ll know what to do.

There’s a brief moment of silence before Eddie sighs and claps his hand onto Wayne’s shoulder. 

“You take care, you hear me? Don’t make me start sending Red over here to check on you. Or maybe I’ll just call Abigail.”

At the sound of his new girlfriend’s name, Wayne rolls his eyes. 

“I can take care of myself. I’ll see you up there in Boston for Thanksgiving,” he says.

Eddie nods. He goes to take a step towards the van but twists and gives Wayne another hug instead.

“Thanks for everything, Wayne. I mean it. For everything.”

“You’re a good kid,” Wayne says as he hugs him back, tighter than the last time, you notice. “‘M proud of you, son.”

By the time they break apart, your eyes have misted over. Blinking away the tears seems to help, but one or two manage to escape and slide down your cheeks. 

Eddie walks over and laces his fingers with yours. 

“Ready, sweet girl?”

“Let’s go.”

The two of you hop into the van and, ahead of you, Steve starts up the truck. Eddie’s van rumbles to life and you just pray this thing makes it to Boston. Perks of having a mechanic for a boyfriend, though, are that you don’t have to wait around forever to have some mechanic come by and check it out, then fork out the big bucks for whatever is wrong with it. 

Eddie puts the van in drive and follows Steve down the road, towards the exit of Forest Hills. Dark brown eyes flick up towards the rear-view mirror. Eddie watches the front door to the trailer close behind Wayne and takes a long look at the home he grew up in. It’s small, old, and not in the best condition. But it’s where he’s lived his life and had some of the best times he’s ever had. It’ll be weird to him to have a new home. To be in a new city. In a new state. But he’s excited. Excited to turn the page and start this next chapter of his life with you. 

Rough, callused fingers find yours as you pull out of the trailer park. You intertwine your fingers with his and bring his hand up to your hand for a kiss. 

“You okay, handsome?” you ask.

The grin he gives you makes your breath catch in your chest. You’ll never get over how breathtakingly beautiful he is. The way his curls frame his face just right and how his long eyelashes brush his cheeks every time he blinks. 

“Me?” Eddie asks. “Never been better, baby.”

If Steve and Eddie thought that getting furniture out of both their houses and into the truck was hard, they’re in for a nasty surprise. The apartment you’re all sharing is on the second floor of the off-white building the moving van and Eddie’s truck are parked in front of. Both Steve and Nancy’s cars are parked behind the building, in a small private lot. Steve had driven his car here and then flown back with Nancy before the move. 

“Ah, Jesus,” Steve sighs as he takes a look at the staircase the two of them will be maneuvering furniture up. 

One of the advantages of living close to the school though, is that students are always around, either passing through or lodging somewhere nearby. Luckily, two guys from your and Nancy’s English class last semester come out of the apartment building next to yours. 

“Whoa, need some help?” One of the guys, Jerry, asks when he sees the U-haul stuffed to the brim with furniture and boxes. 

“Boys?” Nancy asks, turning to face your boyfriends. “Will your pride allow you to let others help?”

“Shit, my pride got knocked out of me the second time I dropped my dresser on my foot,” Eddie says. He turns to Jerry and offers his hand. “We’d appreciate that, man.”

With the help of Jerry and his friend Rich, all of the furniture and belongings are moved into apartment 286 within a few hours. The two good Samaritans wouldn’t accept pizza and beer as a thank you, just insisted helping was no trouble and it counted as their workout for the day. 

Between the loading of the vehicles, the long drive, then the unloading of the vehicles, the four of you are thoroughly exhausted. All of the furniture is still in pieces and none of you care beyond making sure each bedroom has the right mattress in it for your inevitable crashes tonight. 

“Thank God the bedrooms are on opposite sides of the apartment,” Eddie says to you as you walk out from your shared bedroom. 

“I said the same thing to Nance not ten minutes ago,” Steve says. He sets down a box labeled “Living Room” in big black letters. “I don’t wanna hear a damn thing that’s gonna go on in that room of yours.”

“Glad we could finally agree on something,” Eddie says as he slings an arm over your shoulders.

“That’s fine,” Nancy says as she comes out of her and Steve’s room. “But you know we will talk about what goes on in there to each other, right? Girl code and all.”

“Girl code consists of telling each other what goes on in the bedroom?” Steve asks, eyebrows so high they’re practically hidden in his hair. 

“Not everything,” you say to placate the men. Even though, obviously, you and Nancy do discuss just about everything that goes on in there with each other. What else are you supposed to talk about when getting coffee together?

“Okay, I’m starving,” Eddie says, resting his free hand on his stomach. “Please tell me we have a goddamn phone book so I can order some food.”

Pizza is ordered and delivered, and since none of you had brought a couch to your new home, the four of you sit on the floor in the middle of what will become your living room as you eat it. Steve pours a cup of Pepsi for everyone, and you all raise your red solo cups. 

“What should we toast to?” you ask. 

“A smooth semester,” Nancy says.

“To Munson and I finding good jobs here,” Steve adds. 

“And to the many adventures we’re gonna have and how they’ll make everyone back in Hawkins completely jealous,” Eddie says. 

“Let’s try and keep them in this dimension, yeah?” you say.

“Deal,” Eddie replies.

“To our new beginnings!” you say as you lift your cup. 

The four of you tap your cups together, being careful not to be too hard lest you spill some. 

It’s an early night, considering how exhausted you all are. That’s why when you come out of the bathroom, yawning and rubbing your tired eyes, the last thing you expected to see when you walked into your room was Eddie plugging in a strand of multicolored Christmas lights. The strings of lights are draped over piles of boxes, Eddie’s dresser, your bedside table, and a bookshelf you’d brought. 

The lamp connected to the fan on the ceiling is still on, so it’s hard to really see the glow emanating from the little bulbs.

“What’s all this?” you ask, tapping your fingernail against one of the small red lights. 

“Well,” Eddie says as he stands up from his crouched position, “I remember you told me at Christmas you would hang lights in your room and watch them blink and shine as you fell asleep. And, I mean, I know it’s not Christmas time, but I figured these lights might make you happy anyway.”

Your face feels stuck between a grin and a cry as you walk over to your boyfriend. His cheeks are warm as you cup them in your hands and press a kiss to his lips.

“I love them. I love you,” you say softly. “They do make me happy. But you make me the happiest.” You take another look around the room, watching the different colors do their best to be seen in the brightly lit room. “These lights kind of follow us, huh?”

Eddie chuckles and nods his head. “Pretty sure we have custody of them by this point.”

“Maybe tomorrow we can hang them up? Like they were in the van?” you ask. “I mean, who needs crown molding when you have Christmas lights?”

Eddie chuckles and runs his hands up and down your arms.

“God, I can’t believe this is our room. That I get to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up to you each morning.”

“And some fun stuff in between.” You smirk and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Think we should christen the room?” Eddie asks.

Instead of answering, you get down on the mattress that’s on the floor while the bed frame is still dismantled. You pull your pajama shirt up over your head and toss it behind you.

“Pants off, Munson.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” 

Eddie practically hops out of his pants and throws them in a corner. He yanks the longer chain attached to the ceiling fan and the main light goes dark. Dozens of pretty lights twinkle and dance as you take in the strands around the room. The only word you can come up with to describe how it looks is magical. 

There’s a dip on the bed next to you and you look over to see Eddie stripping himself of his shirt as he sits down. He lays back against his pillows and opens his arms for you.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie says. “Let’s fool around on our bed.”

Three Months Later

The apartment is fuller than you’ve ever seen it. You’re in the kitchen, checking on the green bean casserole that you made. Your friends and boyfriend unanimously decided you should be in charge of the side dishes for Thanksgiving because you’re the best cook. Nancy has been making cookies for the last few days with Holly, who flew in for the holiday. That left Eddie and Steve in charge of the turkey. You’re not sure how that’ll go, and if you made a few too many side dishes in case the bird ends up inedible, so what?

“Oh, sweetie?”

You turn around from washing off your hands in the kitchen sink to see Steve’s mom standing before you with the pumpkin and apple pies she brought. 

“Can I help you, Mrs. Harrington?” you ask.

When she smiles you immediately know where Steve acquired that feature. Similarly, Mr. Harrington, who is out in the living room talking with Wayne, has the same eyes and nose as his son. They share the same confidence too, even if Mr. Harrington’s sometimes borders on cocky.

“Did you want the pies in the fridge?” Mrs. Harrington asks.

“Oh! Yes, please.” You open the refrigerator door and carefully take the desserts from her and lay them near the carton of milk. “I’ll put those in the oven after everyone is done with dinner.”

Mrs. Harrington takes one of your hands in hers and gives it a soft squeeze.

“Take a deep breath, dear. I know it can seem overwhelming, but you’re doing great. Everything smells delicious. If you need any help, you let me know, okay?”

“I will,” you agree. “Thank you.”

She gives you one last kind smile before walking back out to the living room. 

Somehow, you feel calmer after just those few words from Mrs. Harrington. You’ve never even met her before today, but her nurturing presence was comforting. It’s a melancholy feeling because you’ll never have that with your own mother. As much as you’ve accepted that, it still finds a way to sting every now and again. 

A ding on the oven lets you know that the biscuits are done. Once you’ve gotten them out of the oven and given the stuffing a few stirs, you see someone come into the kitchen out of the corner of your eye.

“There’s my favorite cook.”

You giggle and step forward to hug Wayne. You’d hugged him when he arrived earlier, but you’re stealing another one now anyway. 

“And look at that!” Wayne says. “Wearing the apron I got you for Christmas last year.”

“Oh, I wear this every time I cook,” you tell him proudly, looking down at the turquoise material tied around your waist. There are a few stains here and there despite your best efforts to keep it pristine. 

Eddie pops into the kitchen claps a hand against Wayne’s back before coming to stand next to you.

“Need any help, babe?” he asks. 

“Actually, I think dinner is just about ready. Help me set the table?”

“No way,” Wayne says with a shake of his head. “You worked hard cooking all this for us, Eddie and I will get everything out on the table.”

The dishes exit the kitchen one by one, to be laid out on the dining room table and Eddie’s old desk that have been pushed together and covered with a burnt sunset tablecloth. The chairs are mismatched as well, but you all had to work with what you’ve got. 

Once it seems like everything has been situated, you take a deep breath. It’s out of your hands now. All you can do is hope people enjoy the food you made. 

Everyone is gathering around the table, sitting down in front of lovely place settings that Nancy worked very hard on. Mr. and Mrs. Harrington take two seats at the far end of the table. Steve sits down next to his father at the head of the table, with Nancy on his other side. Holly giggles about something Steve said as she slides in the chair next to her big sister. 

Wayne slips past you and takes a seat next to Mrs. Harrington. The second head of the table, opposite Steve, is free and you give a little bow and motion for Eddie to take it. He chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

The two empty place settings on either side of Eddie seem to stare at you. The extra chairs mock you as you look over the people sitting at the table in your home. Steve and his parents, Nancy and her little sister, Eddie with his uncle. Family. Not just the individual ones, but as a collective group. The four of you who live in this apartment have brought the people in their lives into all of your lives. It’s an extension of a family that keeps going on and on. 

“Ah,” Eddie says as he hops up from his seat. “Forgot the wine that Wayne brought.” He gives your lips a quick peck before walking into the kitchen. You can’t help but smile as you watch him. This is where you belong. Eddie is your family and your home. 

The quiet knocking pulls you out of your latest Eddie-zone-out. It sounds again and you realize someone is knocking on the front door.

“I’ve got it,” you say as Steve starts to stand. 

The cold doorknob bites your hand as you twist it to reveal who’s standing there. At first your eyes are too high, catching on a familiar face but not quite the one that fills you with glee. When you look down, there she is. Large, inquisitive eyes, wide smile, and two pigtail braids to top off her lovely purple dress. 

They’re here. You’d extended the invitation to your sister months ago, but never heard back. That wasn’t unusual of your sister, but it did complicate your planning. Nancy insisted that you have the extra place settings and chairs for them just in case. Though you truly believed it would all be in vain, you agreed. 

Tears collect along your waterline, and you know it won’t be long before they’re leaking down your face. 

“I am so happy you’re here. Look at how tall you got!” You lean down and Chloe instantly jumps into your arms. The hug you give her is as tight as it can possibly be without hurting her. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you, too!” Chloe says as she pulls away and you stand up. 

More surprising than opening your front door and seeing your sister and niece, your sister leans in and pulls you into a hug.

“It’s really nice to see you,” she says.

As stunned as you are, you manage to hug her back. It’s a warm and comforting hug—something you never thought you’d get from her again. 

“It’s nice to see you too, Melanie.” You find yourself actually meaning those words. This is certainly no indication that things will become more stable between the two of you, but at least it’s a nice gesture on a holiday.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” you tell both of them, but give Chloe a wink. “Eddie? Babe?”

He steps out of the kitchen, wine bottle in hand, and his head swivels as he searches for you. You see his eyes take in you, then the woman and little girl who look very similar to you. A grin lights up his face and you just know how happy he is for you. He sets the wine bottle down on the table and walks over to you. The closer he gets, the shyer Chloe becomes. Though she’s too big for it now, she tries to hide herself behind your legs. 

“Eddie, this is my sister Melanie and my niece Chloe,” you say. 

Your boyfriend squats so he can be on more of an even level with the girl. He offers a hand to her.

“It’s nice to meet my girlfriend’s favorite person,” he says. 

Chloe still looks a little unsure, but she comes out from behind your legs just enough to shake his hand. 

“I think that’s you,” she tells Eddie softly.

“Why’s that?” Eddie tilts his head in curiosity. 

“Because she’s never smiled like that when she’s looked at me before.” Chloe looks up at you, now a speechless mess, and then lowers her head to look at Eddie again. “When you came outta the kitchen. It was a big, big smile. I never seen her smile that big before.”

Heat rises to your face as your niece calls out your terminal case of lovesickness. Eddie doesn’t seem to know what to say either as he stands back up and takes your hand in his. 

“Let’s, um. Let’s all sit down before the food gets cold,” you suggest. In your frazzled state, you forgot you didn’t exactly introduce your sister and boyfriend properly. You quickly remedy the situation and let them shake hands and have a polite greeting while you bring Chloe to the other side of the table where you’re sitting. 

“Here we go,” you say as you help her into her chair. “This is Holly. She’s my friend Nancy’s little sister. That’s Nancy there, that’s Steve, those are Steve’s mom and dad, and this is Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.”

Chloe is seated directly across from Wayne and gives him a shy smile. 

“Hi, darlin’,” Wayne greets. “Are you happy to see your aunt?”

“Yes!” Her face lights up and it absolutely melts your heart. 

Eddie and Melanie come over and join you at the table; Eddie next to you at the head of the table, and Melanie directly across from you. A special sort of warmth you’ve never felt before overtakes your body. It's comforting, like wrapping yourself in the fluffiest blanket on a cold day. The source of this feeling smacks you in the face. You’re sitting between your two favorite people in the world. A part of you never thought this would actually happen, but here it is. It’s overwhelming in the best possible way. 

Steve rises at the opposite end of the table, his wine glass in hand. It looks like someone poured it in Eddie’s absence. All heads turn to Steve, some unfamiliar faces staring back at him, and a lot of familiar ones. It doesn’t make a difference though. Steve is addressing everyone at the table. 

“We’re grateful that each of us has some family with us today. The world is crazy, and you never know when things are going to go upside down.”

You, Eddie, and Nancy share a look, smirks on each of your faces at Steve’s hidden joke that only you three would get. 

“So, here’s to family, friends, and the moments that bring us together.”

“Cheers!”

Everyone clinks their glasses together, reminiscent of the four of you knocking your red solo cups of Pepsi against each other. The difference between then and now is purely the nicer dinnerware and fuller apartment. The sentiment is still the same. A celebration of what you’ve accomplished so far and excitement for the adventures that lie ahead. 

Under the table, Eddie laces his fingers with yours. Your mind wanders back to last Thanksgiving. The first time you and Eddie held hands. The first time you kissed. The first time you met. Back then, you never could have imagined what was beginning to blossom. The surprise of it sneaking up on you is half the fun. 

Now you’re here, exactly where you belong. The people around this table own pieces of your heart, with Eddie holding the largest shard. This is what family is. This is home.

Eddie lifts your hands from under the table and presses a kiss to your knuckles. The soft chink of your charm bracelet the only sound penetrating the bubble that you and Eddie are in. Your newest charm, the little silver turkey you received this morning, stares up at you from where it rests on your wrist. 

Soft lips on the back of your hand have your eyes rising to meet Eddie’s again. He leans in and steals a soft, tender kiss. A small giggle from behind you lets you know that you’re being spied on. But you couldn’t care less who watches you kiss your boyfriend. 

“Happy Thanksgiving!” someone calls, you’re not sure who. 

Eddie just smiles and gives your hand a squeeze.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Eddie.”

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

[romione-trope-fest]

Speak Now

Title: Speak Now

Author: adenei

Selected Trope: Weasley Weddings

Summary: In the midst of trying to navigate what life looks like following the defeat of Voldemort, and the loss of so many, there’s one thing glaringly missing. The irony of it all is it takes someone else’s wedding to give Ron the kick in the pants he needs to go after what—or rather *who*—he wants.

Word Count: 1988

Rating: G

TW: mentions of character death (all canon)

“Ron, I need to ask you for a favor.” Ron’s hand stops on the doorknob, the floorboards creaking under his feet. 

The thick piece of wood is the only thing separating him from a much needed afternoon nap. Sleep has been evading him. Nightmares torturing his mind as he tosses and turns on the lumpy old mattress that’s been his for as long as he can remember.

He shoots his brother a withering look, letting go of the handle as he turns to face him. “Right now?” 

It’s been two weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts. Two weeks since Fred died. Two weeks since Harry defeated Voldemort. And two weeks since he and Hermione kissed.

Every waking moment has been filled with funerals or meetings, and helping around the Burrow to ease the load on his mum, who’s completely overwhelmed with grief. And if he’s not doing his part to ensure the household is running smoothly, he’s taking a shift with George, making sure he doesn’t do anything rash or stupid as he navigates a world without his twin.

Because of all that, he’s barely seen Hermione, let alone had a chance to sit down with her. Every time they cross paths at the Burrow, he feels like he’s not making enough of an effort to make her a priority, yet how can he when everything else is just as important right now? She always smiles and nods in understanding when he’s pulled here or there, but sometimes he wishes she’d speak up and be selfish, asking him to come with her for once instead.

“Yes, right now.”

Ron sighs, trying to prevent the eye roll that sneaks out anyway. “Can’t you ask—”

“No. Bill is with George, and this really needs to be addressed by the end of the day.”

“Fine,” he groans, opening the door wide enough to welcome Percy inside his room.

He’s so busy ushering Percy inside that he doesn’t notice that there’s someone else already occupying the space—more specifically, his bed.

“Oh! Hi, um, sorry. I was just waiting for—do you need me to go?” Hermione’s brows knit with worry.

Ron could curse Percy all over again for needing him now—especially if he’s missing another opportunity to talk to Hermione. His brother stares at the girl he longs to be his girlfriend, contemplating her presence until he finally decides.

“No, actually, I’d like you to stay. I think that would be best.”

“Percy, what is going—”

The uptight redhead straightens his tie and clears his throat. “I have an appointment at the courthouse in Devon in thirty minutes, and I need someone to come with me.”

Ron’s not sure why, but he suddenly realizes that Percy’s dressed up—in Muggle garb.

“What did you do?” Hermione’s eyes widen as the question slips out of her mouth.

“I—nothing. I’m—er—getting married.”

“What?” He and Hermione both exclaim in tandem.

“But you’re not even seeing someone! Right?”

“I—I know it seems rash and maybe rushed, but it’s not. I’ve been seeing a—a Muggle for about two years now. Her name is Audrey, and I truly love her. She knows about me and our world. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing, dating her amidst the war, but—now that things are, well, over, I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Ron balks at him. “You’re seriously going to get married without the rest of the family knowing?”

“Er, no. They don’t. And that’s the thing. I do want to tell everyone…eventually, but Audrey and I had talked about eloping before things got really bad. We’ve been living in a Fidelius protected home and I had to be so careful not to get caught. Otherwise, I would have tried to make amends sooner too. But—Merlin forbid something were to happen again, I don’t want to miss my chance.”

Percy rarely gets flustered, but when he does, he is very much like Hermione. His train of thought tends to bounce all over the place and he doesn’t always make sense. Ron shakes his head.

“That still didn’t answer the question.”

“I am going to tell them. When the time is right. And we can have a reception or whatever else Mum wants to plan when she’s ready, but right now, I just need it to be me and her. We don’t want the fanfare.”

“So, why are you asking me to come with you?”

“Because we need a witness. Her best friend was supposed to come, but when I got the paperwork this morning to file the marriage license with the Ministry, we realized the witness needs to be magical for our end of things. Lara is still planning on attending, but…please, Ron?”

Ron stares at his brother, who looks at him with pleading, hopeful eyes before his gaze flits to Hermione. She nods gently.

“Fine. But I don’t have—”

“Oh, Merlin, thank you! Here.” Percy pulls his wand out and Accios something from the other room. It’s another muggle suit. “Hermione, you can come too, but I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you to—”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“No, please, I’d like you there. It would make me feel a little better knowing that some of my family can be there.”

Ron’s heart constricts in his chest. Does Percy really consider Hermione family? Even though they aren’t even together?

“I—I’ll go look in Ginny’s room to see what I can find.” Her cheeks are rosy as she climbs off the bed and slips between them, exiting the room without so much as a backwards glance at either of them.

Percy looks back to Ron. “I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”

“It’s fine. You…didn’t.” 

Not technically, anyway.

“Er, right. Well, I do appreciate this. Truly. Thank you. I promise it won’t be long.” Percy glances down at his watch. “We need to leave in ten minutes. I’ll meet you in the garden and we can Side-Along?”

Ron nods. “Sure.”

As Percy disappears into the hall, shutting the door behind him, Ron has trouble wrapping his head around everything. 

Percy’s getting married. To a girl no other Weasley has ever met before—a muggle. And he and Hermione are the ones being asked to bear witness to it all.

* * *

The ceremony is just as Percy said it would be: brief, quiet, and intimate. For someone who always wanted all the pomp and circumstance of whatever position he held, this is uncharacteristically unassuming and private. And Ron can’t help but feel a little guilty upon seeing how the war—and the estrangement from his family—has changed Percy.

But when the justice of the peace asks them to say their vows, there’s a spark that comes to life in Percy’s eyes when he looks at Audrey, and even though Ron thinks his brother’s rushing things, it’s obvious they share something special. He doesn’t blame Percy for not wanting to wait anymore.

After all, hadn’t he said as much to Hermione in the Room of Requirement? ‘It’s now or never?’ Except it’s turned into ‘it was now, but then we had to wait a few weeks and he’s starting to think it might be never.’

Ron glances at his best friend, whose eyes are glassy with unshed tears as she watches Percy and Audrey share their promises with each other. He’s struck with an overwhelming feeling that he can’t quite place. Relief, maybe? Hope? Maybe it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t have the word to describe it. Until it’s obvious.

Love.

It’s against all odds—the fact that they’re here. They made it. Even when one, or perhaps both, probably shouldn’t have. Ron’s been so caught up mourning the loss of everyone who gave their lives to protect their world that he’s forgotten why they died in the first place. Fred, Tonks, Remus…they wouldn’t want everyone to grieve them so much they can’t get on with their lives. What good would all that fighting have been for? 

Maybe Percy has the right idea, marrying Audrey. Perhaps this is part of his journey of healing and moving forward on his own, and eventually he’ll find a way to fuse his life with Audrey to the one he’s working to repair with his family. Ron wonders if he should follow in his brother’s footsteps, and find his way to happiness again.

As Percy and Audrey are pronounced man and wife, Ron knows exactly what he has to do. He offers a genuine smile as they share their first kiss, signs the documentation as their witness, and congratulates them.

“Thank you for being here,” Percy extends his gratitude again as they walk down the steps exiting the courthouse.

“No problem. Just, er, maybe don’t keep this from the rest of the family for too long. I think they could probably use something happy to latch onto.”

Percy’s mouth forms into a thin line as he nods curtly. “I’ll…try not to.” Then, he turns to his new bride. “We’re going to head back to our flat, unless you need help getting home?”

And there’s Pompous Percy, back to play.

Ron rolls his eyes. “I think we’ll manage.”

Percy and Audrey wander off down the road as Ron eyes the park nearby and nods to it. “Care for a walk?”

“Sure,” Hermione agrees.

They meander side by side, and all of the things Ron wants to say storm through to the front of his mind, but he can’t latch onto a single one long enough to start a conversation. After harboring his feelings for years, how is he supposed to finally tell Hermione how he feels?

Their fingers brush as they walk, and Ron brazenly slides his hand into hers the next time the sway of their arms sync up.

“That was unexpected,” Hermione offers.

“It was.”

“But also really sweet.”

“Yeah.”

Hermione slows her pace and turns toward him, forehead crinkled in concern. “Are you alright?”

“I—yeah—”

“I feel like we’ve barely seen each other, let alone spoken since—”

“I know.” The hand that isn’t still holding hers moves to slip around her waist. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but—I’ve wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

Us. The kiss. The locket. What happened at Malfoy’s. Shell Cottage. Everything that’s ever happened between us since the fucking Yule Ball and what it could possibly mean. All of it.

He supposes any of those could be a good starting point, but that’s not what slips out of his mouth. “I want what they have—Percy and Audrey.”

“Oh?” The singular syllable catches in her throat as she looks at him in surprise.

“With you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

He’s not sure how, but Hermione manages to move her body closer to his. “Me too,” she breathes. “I’ve been hoping—”

But Ron doesn’t give her a chance to finish. Dropping her hand, he brings it to her face, tilting her chin up as his lips graze hers. It’s much more gentle, tentative even, than their first kiss, and he relishes every second of the leap they’re taking.

“I never thought…” she starts to say when they finally break apart, but the words drift off and she bites her lip instead. 

He knows exactly what she means though, even without saying it. “I know. But here we are.”

“Here we are,” she agrees.

“Reckon we probably shouldn’t jump to marriage right away though,” Ron jokes. It’s the first time he’s genuinely been able to since—well, before they broke into the Ministry.

The crack brings a smile to Hermione’s lips. Merlin, he’s missed making her smile. “No, probably not. But I don’t see a problem with dating.”

“Neither do I.”

“So, it’s settled then.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Then, a wide grin spreads across his face and happiness bubbles up from his heart. “I finally get to call you my girlfriend.”

She nuzzles her head into his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” He kisses the top of her head.

For now.

[tenaciouschronicler]

November 21 2024 2009

Oh.

My.

GOD.

Yall. YALL! I have no words. None! Rose: Ascend was so good, just so so good!

Finally powered up, Rose checks in with John and notices some pretty intense rumbling is happening. Our new little loading logo gives us an idea of what we are gonna get into.

This flash, like Daves, starts interactive, putting us in Roses shoes as she navigates up to the platforms where John is just demolishing these Ogres. Hes found his footing and things are getting serious.

He starts focusing on the right ogre, spin-hammering (like a spindash, but with added hammer) with such speed theres a green after-image with each consecutive hit. The left ogre tries to pull that tire swing move we witnessed previously but Nannaquin shows off her own power with an even larger lazer than the one used on the cookie-snatching imp.

Rose, ever so helpful assists in the only way shes done so far: dropping household furniture.

I honestly love that we start out so zoomed out and then zero in on the fridge. Like a cameraman trying to capture all the action and not believing his eyes at this turn of events. Unfortunately, the ogre has some sorta sixth sense, catches it without blinking (figuratively, i dont know if theseo ogres Can blink), and parries John back with probably the same force Bro did to Dave.

Nanna makes her own sweet catch with a conjured (?) oven that John busts out of like Donkey Kong from a barrel.

I actually have some questions here like, how?? Is this a standard sprite power, that they can like, create objects from their lazer eyes? What exactly is that lazer now that Im thinking about it? Sprites have to made of something semi-physical right? Cause the object Nanna made caught John. You know what, thats not important right now lets go back to the fight.

... ... ...

...Whatever power this is Nanna can apparently use it to create other objects which she rains down upon the ogre. John, having bounced back in the air gets stopped by Rose wielding the alchemiter to create another platform.

John strikes the killing blow. One down, one to go. Surrounded by spoils, John faces the other ogre. And just a neat detail, the way John is animated makes him look like hes breathing a little heavy. Unlike Dave, I dont think John is very used to this level of excertion.

Now the oven has a cookie lazer? Ok, whatever. John lands some more spin-hammer hits and Rose finally gets a win and drops the alchemiter of the ogre, ending the battle.

Rose and John have a small chat before we get to see how far John has risen in the echeladder, a whopping 9 levels to Boy-Skylark.

Gains:

Boondollars- 11,575

Cache Limit- 2400, up from 80

Build Grist- 2260

Shale- 1040

Tar (new)- 490

Mercury- 350

Upgrades people, upgrades!

Because of the sheer size of the ogres, there is more grist scattered about that John will have to get, one of which is in the hole above Dads room. Will we finally get to see the forbidden space? Before he goes gallavanting off, Nanna reminds John to take Sassacres book. Apparently its very important he "give it a read when you have a moment. Particularly the first several pages!" Well that sure isnt suspicious at all. But honestly if it gives us more lore I am all for John plunking himself down right here, right now. But he wont. Its John we're talking about, ya know?

The last bit of their conversation feels like some sort of in joke, especially since John specifically requested "a series of really coy riddles about [his purpose] and then sort of giggle". Like:

NANNASPRITE: When you pass through the first gate, everything will change. You will find the place where the constellations dance beneath the clouds. And then your true work may begin.

NANNASPRITE: Hoo hoo hoo!

JOHN: i suddenly understand everything!

Thats great, John! Because I sure dont!

This boy is gonna be the death of me I just know it.

[sjsmith56]

The Flame Burns From Within, Part 4 - Captive

Summary: Lady Arden is forced to reveal her marriage. Lord Barnes and his men continue their pursuit of Pierce’s forces.

Characters: Lady Arden, Lord Pierce, Ser Brock, Riley, Lord Barnes, Ser Anthony, Father Bruce, Ser Samuel.

Warnings: Physical violence against a woman, intimidation and threats, reference to a forced miscarriage.

Author notes: The image in the banner was created by the author using Microsoft Copilot app. Divider by vecteezy.com.

<<Part 3

Part 4 - Captive

Lady Arden

The journey from the church to Lord Pierce's estate wasn't far but I wasn't permitted to exit the carriage on our arrival. Instead, I was joined in the compartment by his wife and daughter, along with a maidservant. Lady Pierce, her face red and her hair disordered, stared at me with some hostility, then sighed when the carriage door was closed again and we departed in greater haste towards another destination.

"You are older than my daughter," she grumbled. "He must intend for you to marry our eldest son. Why no one else was good enough for him is beyond me but then I am never consulted on these matters."

I said nothing to her comment, since she didn't ask a question. Instead, I looked out the small window trying to determine where we were being taken. James' belief that Pierce's attack on the church would result in the loss of his lands must have been a correct one for it seemed that the whole household was accompanying our carriage. Whenever we turned into a curve, I could see wagons loaded up with the household goods behind us in a long procession. Far in the distance I could see the columns of smoke, certain that he had set his estate on fire. His attack on the church wasn't a sudden impulse. The fact he had his possessions ready to leave his lands was proof that he planned this long ago.

"I will not marry your son," I stated, fixing Lady Pierce with my gaze. "I am betrothed to another."

"He doesn't care," answered the woman. "You have always been his prize. He tried to negotiate for you in good faith, but your fool uncle wouldn't even entertain his offers. Now he has made us fugitives to claim you for our house. You must have a large fortune for him to be so insistent."

"I have nothing," I answered. "Your husband took my family away from me when he killed my parents, and my uncle offered me sanctuary." She looked at me with a blank expression, as if my words were confusing to her. "I am from the House of Forrest. Lord Pierce slaughtered my parents then said he found them dead of the wasting disease. He took their lands under his stewardship after burning everything to cover up his crime."

Pierce's daughter looked fearfully at her mother, whose face was becoming redder by the moment as I laid out my charges against her husband.

"You lie," she replied, not quite convincingly. "He's a pillar of the kingdom; well respected and always called by the king to give counsel."

I shook my head. "No, he and the Houses of Rumlow and Walker have been conspiring to overthrow the king. More than a fortnight ago, he sent an unmarked force to the palace, attacking it in the night. His men killed the Crown Prince and his oldest son. I was at Ser Anthony's when word came to Lord Barnes of the attack. He hastened to provide his support to the throne. That was the night I was formally betrothed to Lord Barnes. Just last night your husband and his men surrounded my uncle's castle, intent on preventing Lord Barnes entry to it, and our attendance at church this morning for the third reading of the banns. They entered the church with their weapons in hand, knocked down the priests, then took women and children as hostages to force Lord Barnes to give me to them. Your husband is a traitor."

The state of their marriage must not have been stable as she had nothing to counter my words. It meant she knew he was capable of what I told her. She and her daughter would pay a steep price for being connected to such a man. The maidservant, older than me with hair as red as mine except darker in tone, watched us closely as we spoke. Never once, did she give any sign of distress or disbelief on her part. It seemed she was more aware than her mistress was.

After many hours of travel, during which I dropped a small torn piece of the trim on my dress out the window as we went past an inn, we stopped at a tavern, long after the sun had gone down. Another party of sell swords were there to greet us. I listened to their report to Lord Pierce on their travels, but their words were too indistinct for me to make out. Then the carriage door opened and the man who helped me into the carriage appeared.

"Lord Pierce says we will stop here for a meal and a brief rest. You may wish to refresh yourselves at the same time."

He offered Lady Pierce his hand first, then her daughter, then me. A look passed between him and the maidservant. It was just a flicker of recognition then it was gone but I noticed it and wondered if they were perhaps lovers. She assisted Lady Pierce into the tavern, while her daughter and I followed. It was dark and close inside; certainly not a place I would willingly go into, but I was hungry and needing the use of the privy. When I made my needs known, the maidservant and the sell sword followed me; her inside the facility while holding a candle to light my way, him on guard outside. Pulling my skirts up over my knees I placed myself in position while the woman looked away.

"I don't need a guard inside. I have no idea where I am and no chance of escape."

"That is not why I am here," she said, in a low voice. "I am a friend, as is the sell sword at the door. His name is Riley. We will try to find an opportunity for you to escape, but if that is not possible, we will at least leave a trail for your betrothed to follow.”

She handed me the candle then lifted her own skirt, pulling a knife out of a sheath strapped to her leg. Digging into the wood in a dark corner of the privy she drew an image of a flame, then an arrow pointing in the direction we were headed, followed by two wavy lines to indicate the sea. The knife was slid back into the sheath once she was satisfied with her efforts.

"We're headed to a port?"

"That's what Riley has learned," she confirmed. "Pierce has allies across the sea in Brittania. We'll try to help you escape before then for once you're on a ship it will be harder to rescue you."

A small tap on the door signalled us to be quiet and she turned away from me so that I could complete my necessities. As we left the small privy, Riley was no longer at his place. Instead, it was Ser Brock. He glared at both of us, his scarred face cast in a permanent scowl. I refused to let him intimidate me and I looked steadily in his eyes.

"I have been in that carriage for hours."

"As I have been in the saddle, Lady Arden." His eyes narrowed. "Lord Pierce orders your presence at his table."

I brushed past him, followed by the maidservant, whose name I still didn't know but for now I would think of her as Ruby to match her hair. Rumlow watched us from his spot for some time, making me wonder if he intended to check the privy for signs of me leaving a clue, but he didn't. Instead, he sat next to Pierce at the large table, grabbing a tankard of ale and drinking in a manner that was typical of most men of his upbringing. On the other side of Lord Pierce were two young men, fair haired but indistinguishable from any number of ordinary men. Their beards were dark but spotty as if their faces couldn't decide whether to make them look more manly or scruffy. Like him, they each had their hands around a piece of meat, tearing into them with their teeth. Walker sat further down, watching me with a curiosity that bothered my sensibilities. A piece of meat was placed on a platter in front of me, along with a thick slice of bread. I took what I could manage.

"These are my sons," said Pierce, gesturing to the two young men. "Richard is 24, sturdy and reliable. His brother, William, is 26, a good swordsman, and has already bested several men in battle. I give you the option of choosing which one will be your husband. It is of no consequence to me which one you choose."

"Neither," I said, looking him in the eye.

He reached forward and slapped me with the back of his hand. The fat from the piece of meat he had held in that hand dripped off my cheek and I wiped it off, looking defiantly at him.

"You will choose, Lady Arden," he declared. "I mean to have you as a member of my house before we leave for Britannia. It is my preference that the marriage be performed before the voyage so that my line is secured on the trip over."

"That will be difficult," I replied, "seeing as how I am already with child."

There was silence at the table as he took in my words. His own sons watched him nervously as his colouring changed from fair to ruddy. He made them all jump when he slammed his fist on the table.

"Who?" I smiled at him, and he withdrew his dagger, extending it to my throat. "You laid in sin with Barnes?"

"No, there was no sin involved. We were married over a fortnight ago by the priest whose church you burned. He already took news of the marriage to the Bishop and the banns were waived, as I carry Lord Barnes' child. We were merely going through the formality of reading the banns as normally would be done. It was your own actions that forced Lord Barnes hand, due to your attack on the King. I know I carry his child for I have already missed my monthly course.”

Even in this busy tavern I could hear the sound of his breathing, as he struggled to maintain control of his temper. I picked the meat up and tore a small piece off with my teeth, chewing it as I watched him. Ser Brock leaned forward and whispered in Pierce's ear, leading him to nod his head. He sat back down and glared at me.

"There are ways to make a woman expel a child from her body," he stated. "We need to find someone who knows the proper herbs."

"I'll tell the priest," I said. "Plus, by now the record of my marriage has gone to Rome. If you force me into a marriage with one of your sons, it will be declared illegal, and any offspring will be illegitimate. You can't change that so easily. I will not cooperate, Lord Pierce, especially not with the man responsible for my parents' deaths."

"Then I'll make sure that Lord Barnes meets his own death." His voice was steady as he stared intently at me. "Nothing will stop my son from marrying his widow. Your child with Barnes will have no standing in my house and I can turn him out at will."

"Then you will have another death on your hands." I stood up, drawing all my dignity together to give him a glance at the fire that burned within me. "If you harm my child I will kill you with my own hands."

He started laughing, which prompted his sons William and Richard, John Walker, and Ser Brock to join in, followed by his men who were nearby. Before he could counter my effort, I took the knife which lay on the platter of meat and brought it to his cheek, slicing it open. Rumlow reacted first, grasping my wrist hard and forcing the knife from my hand but the damage was done as Pierce raised his hand to his cheek and came away with blood on his fingers. I believe he would have throttled me then, but Rumlow barked at Riley who came forward.

"Lock her in the carriage," he said. "We'll see if she is this feisty after sleeping there tonight."

He took me out of the tavern and over to the carriage, which sat without horses as they grazed freely in the fields nearby. Once we were out of earshot, he whispered furiously.

"What were you trying to do?"

"Exactly what you saw," I answered. "I will not cooperate with him. He will find I am no meek daughter of one of his cronies."

"He will hurt you and will send a force against Lord Barnes." We got to the carriage, and he opened the door. In the distance we could see Rumlow watching us as he dispatched two other men to guard the carriage. Riley looked to see who they were and shook his head. "Do not antagonize these two. They will have no qualms in taking their anger out on you." Helping me in he stopped just before he closed the door. "We have two days of travel to get to the port. I can't help you escape if you are locked up like this. Lady Arden, please, temper your actions."

"I will try."

He sighed, then locked me inside. Acknowledging the two men who arrived to guard me during the night he kept walking towards the tavern without looking back. I pulled the cushions from the seats and laid them on the floor of the carriage. It was a rash action for me to cut open Pierce's cheek, but his arrogance irked me and the fire within me burned at that moment when he threatened not only my love but my child. I didn't lie when I told him my monthly course hadn't yet arrived. It was late by almost a week, and I hoped with all my heart that it meant I carried James' child. If I wasn't, then my options for preventing a marriage would be limited even more.

Lord Barnes – evening

The flames over Pierce Manor were still visible for miles as we approached those lands, an obvious sign we were too late to stop Lord Pierce's forces. What was worse, my best trackers told me that a great host of wagons, horsed men, and carriages left earlier, bound for the northeast. His house had been ready to leave at a moment's notice, his intentions quite evident. Why he would attack the King just two weeks ago, then abandon his properties now puzzled me. It was a tactic that made no sense.

"My Lord," said Barton, approaching me. "The men who sought out Lord Pierce's tenants say they departed early in the afternoon, an hour after midday. None were aware of his destination." He looked at the ruins. "Why would he destroy his own property like that? It makes no sense."

"To prevent anyone from taking it over," said Ser Samuel, who came closer on his own horse. "It was a tactic used in the Holy Wars between my brethren and yours, to keep the other side from easily gaining a foothold. It is a warning to you that he will go to extreme lengths to keep you from Lady Arden. It is a tactic of war; make no mistake about that."

His words were true. It was a tactical retreat, and his scorching of his properties was meant to slow us down as well as make it impossible for the King to assign those lands to an ally. It would take years to rebuild the manor. By that time Pierce would have been able to strengthen his forces with the help of powerful houses in Britannia, France, or Spain, any one of which would want a foothold in our young realm.

"Give the signal," I said to Barton. "We move on and follow the trail. We'll ride as long as we can before we rest our horses."

I saw the priest, Father Bruce, sitting atop his own horse, his hand on his crucifix and his lips moving in prayer, at the destruction visible to us. He crossed himself finally then rode closer to me.

"We move on, I take it," he said, simply. "To destroy an estate that took lifetimes to build is evil. His serfs and tenants will be masterless, and unable to have the advantage of his protection against bandits or invaders."

"It was an evil act, as evil as his attack on the church," I replied. "We are continuing the pursuit. If it becomes too much for you, Father, I can leave two men with you while you rest."

"I am fine," he answered. "I will rest when you do."

His answer reassured me to his stamina. As mild and meek as he appeared, he was a man of inner strength. It did not matter to me if it was his faith that drove him. I found myself willing to listen to his counsel for it was as reasoned as well as any other man. As we rode with Ser Anthony who had joined us with some of his men, and additional men provided by the King, we spoke of many things. The topic of my years of travel came up and Ser Anthony came closer.

"It was Lord Fury who told me of your falling out with Lord Pierce. May I ask how that came about?"

I sighed, as I was not proud of my previous association with the man, or Ser Brock of House Rumlow.

"Pierce was a childhood friend of my father's and Lord Fury," I began. "They were like brothers for a time. After my father's death, it was Pierce who invited me to travel with him and Rumlow to explore trading relationships with certain houses. Lord Fury was there when the offer was made and suggested to the King that the Duke also accompany us, as part of what was an unofficial diplomatic mission." I grimaced at the memory. "It was anything but. We visited more brothels and courtesans than estates. In fact, the two men encouraged us to leave the diplomacy to them, while the Duke and I explored the more salacious aspects of Europe. It wasn't until we were in Spain, and I visited the Bishop of Seville, who was related to my mother, that I heard different counsel. When I told him who my travelling companions were he cautioned me against trusting Lord Pierce. Apparently, he had wanted to court my mother, but my father made his offer first. The Bishop was of the opinion that Pierce's plan was to weaken me so that my house could be taken over by his. I began to question their treatment of me and the Duke. After speaking frankly with Prince Steven, we began to distance ourselves from them."

"They were setting up their alliances with willing houses, weren't they?" asked Ser Anthony. He shook his head. "It must have disturbed you to realize he thought so little of you."

"I felt like I had disgraced myself," I admitted, thinking back to that time in my youth. "No wonder you didn't think I was a suitable husband for Lady Arden."

"What was the defining moment?" Father Bruce gazed at me with understanding. "What finally severed the connection?"

"I overheard a chance remark by Ser Brock that they should have done to House Barnes what was done to House Forrest, except no one would want my sister Rebecca as compensation for the trouble. The remarks they made about her were vile and angered me, so I confronted him. We fought." I rubbed my left arm, remembering the wound given to me by that man. "If I hadn't been wearing armour that day he would have taken my arm. It was Ser Samuel Wilson who intervened in the battle, sending a falcon to attack Rumlow. It scarred his face, further hardening his heart against me and my family."

Both Father Bruce and Ser Anthony switched their attention to my friend, the man who had been reluctant to leave Spain, where he had been born and raised during the Moors' occupation of that land, until the Church fought back.

"It was evident my path lay with Lord Barnes and the Duke," he said solemnly. "To ease my travels in this land, I assumed a Christian name, although Samuel is a name known to my people."

"So, you are not a Christian?" asked Father Bruce.

Samuel smiled. "I am not, but I have been told I am a good man, nonetheless. Will that suffice for you, Father Bruce? I have the greatest respect for you as a man."

He surprised us all by laughing aloud for some time. In a gesture that surprised us all, he extended a hand to Ser Samuel and grasped his forearm in the way men of battle do when in solidarity. When he released it, he made the sign of the cross at the man.

"That will suffice," he answered. "I am not so rigid in theology to think that my faith is superior to yours. We both worship the same god, but our methods differ. Our worlds are not so different as they both have good men and evil men; that is evident to me."

It was another surprising statement by the priest, and I began to wonder what his own past had been like that he was both worldly and open-minded, unlike many of his kind. Throughout the next few hours, we conversed of many things to pass the time in the saddle. Ultimately, we all began to flag, and I called a halt to our ride. We found an inn that accommodated us in the main building and in its stables, once I showed the owner a gold piece, with a promise of more. They fed us well in their tavern, and we slept until sunrise.

When I arose in the morning, a meal awaited us. I gladly paid the owner five gold pieces for his trouble. As we saddled and mounted our horses, he came out with a thoughtful expression.

"There was another large procession that passed us by yesterday, just before dark," he said. "It was strange, as there was a fine carriage with several women and a young maiden in it, plus many wagons with fine furnishings and possessions. I tried to entice them to stay with us as they passed, but their leader never even paid any heed to me. However, this was dropped from the carriage. It occurred to me that you may be tracking that procession."

He held his hand out, holding a small piece of trim from Arden's dress. She must have ripped it off the fabric with her own hands. Reaching into my small coin purse I withdrew another gold piece and offered it to him, in exchange for the piece.

"I thank you, sir," I said sincerely. "May you always have visitors at your doors."

He smiled gratefully and stepped back as we began to ride. Other than the tracks of the many wagons, it was the first real evidence we were on the right road. However, we were still many hours behind them. We rode until the sun was high overhead and stopped at another inn with a tavern. Like the previous place, the owner of this one was anxious to make us happy and he brought out great platters of food and ale for us. With an actual privy on the premises, several of my men took advantage of the facility to relieve themselves. It was one of them who came to me.

"My Lord, there is something in the privy that you should see," he said, pointing towards the door to the facility.

Raising myself from the stool, I went with him into the small room and looked at him, expectantly. He pointed to a darkened corner, where a flame, an arrow pointing northeast, and two rippled lines had been recently carved into the wood. The wood underneath had not yet had the chance to darken with age. It was obviously a message meant for me and I thanked all the gods for the foresight of the spy I had in Pierce's house, wondering if she was responsible for this message. Natasha, a woman with her own quarrel with the man, had been there for almost a year, watching him. It was through her efforts that I acquired the ring I placed on Arden's finger, that now rested on a chain around my neck. Leaving the privy, I sought out the owner.

"There was another large party that came through here," I stated. "Tell me, was there a young woman, with hair like flame and wearing a dress of the colour of cream? It was trimmed with this."

I showed him the small piece of trim.

"Aye, M'Lord," he answered. "She was there, at a table with an older man, two younger men who may have been his sons, a sallow fair-haired man, and a dark-haired man with a scarred face. The older man struck her for something she said but she showed no fear and even managed to cut his cheek with a knife."

I smiled. Ever since Arden showed me the blade in her boot I wondered if she was self-assured enough to use it. The tavern owner's words were clear that she was.

"When did they leave?" I asked.

He scratched the back of his head and scrunched up his face. "Two hours before sunrise, just as the mist began to form. They were headed northeast, following the main road on the island. The lady was forced out to sleep in the carriage after cutting the man, with two guards upon her but she did not look the worse for wear when they hitched the horses and herded the other women in with her. The oldest one did not look happy at being awakened from her slumbers so early."

We had come closer but were still at least 8 hours behind them.

"Which harbour on the north shore can handle large ships?" Ser Anthony looked sharply at the man.

"The deepest ports that can receive large ships is Sag Harbor then the Northwest Harbour which is further by another day’s travel. Both have received large ships from across the seas. With all the wagons slowing them down the group that was here yesterday will need two days to get to the closer of the two."

We looked at each other with understanding. Pierce should be headed for the closer harbour. There was still a chance we could get to them before they reached Sag Harbour. Barton, who had stood behind my shoulder as the information was given to us, pulled his gloves on.

"Is the order given to mount up, my Lord?"

"Aye, prepare the men to leave. We ride until nightfall before breaking for a few hours rest. With any luck we can catch them by morning."

I paid our host five gold pieces for his troubles and mounted Soldier. Even he seemed eager to go, as if he understood how close we were to catching up to Pierce, and to Lady Arden. I smiled again at the thought of her slicing open Pierce's cheek. He must have said or done something that raised the flame of anger within her. It made my sensibilities feel full to realize that her heart was mine, as much as my heart was hers. She truly was a warrior inside, the blood of her ancestors still strong and vibrant. In every way, she held me captive with her abilities and the fire that burned within her.

Part 5>>

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[blackjackkent]

Oh man, there's a lot here in the graveyard. Karlach's parents are buried here and she asked Hector if they could stop and say hi.

Of course Hector beelined for it. <3 This was an incredibly sweet little moment and as usual, her VA and facial animation are making me cry.

"Here lies Pluck and Caerlack Cliffgate. My parents. Hi mum. Hi dad."

"Sorry I haven't visited. I've been... away. But I'm back now! And I brought friends."

She and Hector exchanged a cute little glance here.

"I miss you so much. But I'm happy. And getting up to some really important shit."

"Maybe you can see for yourselves. I don't know."

"You're with me here, anyway. Taters."

Hector has just been listening to this and watching her with a gentle smile on his face. "Taters?" he asks softly, when she seems to have run out of words.

She laughs, just a little shakily. "Meant 'I love you' in the Cliffgate household. I can't even remember how it started anymore. Lost family lore."

(A/N: What an incredibly sweet, detailed little character note, holy shit.)

"There was a lot of silly nonsense in our house." Her gaze is distant, drifting through memories long gone. "My mates used to say we had our own personal language. I guess I'm the last remaining speaker." Her smile flickers slightly.

He reaches out and takes her hand, feeling his heart twist a little in his chest. For not the first time nor the last, he is struck by how brutally unfair her lot has been, to be pulled from a loving family and a life she was happy in, and instead thrust into the torment of the Hells with no possibility of escape. To have lost both her past and her future to the greed of Gortash and the cruelty of Zariel.

Deep at the back of his mind, so deep that he barely even acknowledges it himself - he is a little jealous, too, of the kindness and warmth and love she describes in her childhood, something that for all his contentment at the monastery, was never truly part of his life. But he is also deeply grateful that she had it - that it molded her into the kind woman that he loves, molded her so strongly that the Hells couldn't beat it out of her.

"Mum used to say there was no such thing as death," Karlach goes on thoughtfully. "That there was only change. Dad thought that was a load of woo. That gone meant gone, unless you'd struck a deal with one of the gods. Said he had better things to do in life than beg favors off immortals."

She draws a heavy breath, absently interlacing her fingers with his. "I'm not sure what I believe."

He is quiet for a few moments, thinking. He is, of course, trained in the dogma of the Selunites and could speak quite knowledgeably on the workings of the gods - at least such as it was taught to him - but he doesn't think she really wants a lecture on the City of Judgment and its uncertain outcomes right now.

She is thinking ahead to her own impending mortality. She wants comfort, something that is hopeful, and his voice giving it to her.

"Your mum was right," he says softly. "Our bodies become soil, water, air. We don't die, we just change..."

To his relief, he sees her expression relax slightly.

"Nice thought, isn't it?" she murmurs. "This grass could be my mum's hair. The air in my lungs might be my dad telling me 'taters.'" She smiles, leans her shoulder against his gently. "I like that."

------

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 I love Karlach so much, you guys.

The game didn't give me the opportunity, unfortunately, but Hector absolutely starts saying 'Taters' to her in place of 'I love you' sometimes. Not all the time, but just here and there, so she's not the last carrier of the tradition, and so she knows he's listening and will remember - both her and her parents.

Once again including the recording of this scene here because Karlach's VA and facial animations are really half of what make her scenes so affecting.

[liri-sims]

Test of Time challenge summary, part 1: Is this the kiss that launched a thousand slaps?

Yes. Yes, it is.

For the first part of the challenge, things were pretty uneventful. People fished and gardened and got heatstroke and had babies. Despite my best efforts at giving the founders a range of personalities, some with low nice points and difficult aspirations, most of them were getting along well and staying faithful to their spouses, even though I had two married romance sims floating around. Then, Brigid, a popularity sim who seemed very happy in her marriage, walked right up to Geb Stone and kissed him on the mouth. Geb was a pleasure sim, so he was cool with this, and his wife was a romance sim, so she didn't mind either.

Of course this lack of drama couldn't last.

I decided to let them do their thing. They didn't woohoo, they were discreet, they didn't really roll wants for each other. I figured it was an impulsive indiscretion.

And then, when I sent Ala Berry to the springs to bathe, I got this:

See how Ala's still kind of translucent? The lot was still loading! See how the young boy (Pan, Brigid and Esus's oldest son) is flames-on-the-side-of-his face about his mom? See Esus in the hot spring with a redhead, Limat Pond, who is not his wife? See Lir Pond, in the background, totally losing his shit as his marriage falls apart?

(See Ogun and Oya Burn slow-dancing in the background, totally unbothered about the freaking Trojan War breaking out around them?)

I don't know exactly what Brigid did with Geb while the lot was loading, but apparently her husband and son saw it. And Esus decided to get back at her, immediately. I can only assume he went up to Limat Pond, who had two nice points, and told her he wanted revenge on his cheating wife, and she said "Sure! I like spite!"

Whatever happened after that wasn't too earth-shaking. Pretty sure Lir slapped Limat, because she ended up furious at him, and Brigid, who was offscreen playing the drums like none of this had anything to do with her, just ignored it all at the time.

I was in the middle of the Berry rotation, so I kept playing their household, sending people to the springs to cool down and bathe as necessary. I may have moved on to the Burns at some point - they were next in the rotation. But either way, the story kept progressing. Lir, deprived of a wife, tried to obtain a replacement wife by hitting on everyone else. Ala Berry, a romance sim, turned him down. Eventually, though, he struck pay dirt.

With Brigid. Because, like, what's one more affair?

And then this happened:

Yes, Brigid has been six months pregnant this whole time, and is a giant hypocrite.

And then this happened:

You can see the plumbbob in the background - whoever I was controlling felt this was none of their business, but my heart sank, because these two had just fought autonomously, and by challenge rules that meant the loser had to die.

Lir took it pretty hard, because he was a family sim. So was Limat, believe it or not. I figured I'd have Brigid and Esus get divorced and move her in with Lir when I go to the right point in the rotation. Continued playing. And in screenshots I lost, Lir - who could not be trusted to look after himself at all - caught Brigid kissing Geb at the springs and decided to get into it with Geb. Hypocritical, but on the other hand, if Geb had kept his hands off married women maybe Lir wouldn't have lost everything? I personally blamed Brigid more, but she was pregnant and Lir couldn't fight her.

Anyway, Geb had like eight body skill points, so that didn't go well for Lir.

This was what Lir's memories, wants, and aspiration looked like when I went to his lot to off him:

"Maybe a puppy will make me feel joy again?" A portrait of a broken man. A broken man with a toddler and an infant dependent on him (and the MATY clothing hack sitting out there in plain sight, oops.)

I moved Brigid in to look after the two Pond daughters, Luna and Lethe. You can see the gimmick I had going here - maybe it was a mercy the parents died young before they could breed more.

Brigid's performance as a foster mom, well... I'll get to that in a future post. This is more than long enough.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Laziness

Not mine. Oooooh no.

Look, I'm having to give up yet another weekend for overtime. I managed typing nearly 200 cases with a 6.5 hour day plus two hours of overtime, and we're still on over 300 in the queue, and we were only maybe halfway through yesterday's cases by the time I just couldn't take anymore.

As an aside, Milady was away, The Other Part-Timer won't be back until the 16th same as Temp, and of the two typists who were in, New Girl managed 60-odd, and Goblin, who is our other dedicated typist, managed 50. Those in the same amount of time I did nearly 200.

Hence, me vs laziness. Because the laziness of others is the bane of my fucking existence right now.

It didn't help that I was starting the overtime portion of my workday around half-five and like twenty cases got dumped into the queue, ten of them urgents. And then a few more getting dumped in at 7pm. I fully expect there to be work added to the queue over the weekend.

I hurt incredibly badly. It takes enough effort to push through the pain and fatigue that I rarely even remember the emergency calories I keep around, which means my eating habits have gone entirely to shit. Almost all I do is work, and the workload just keeps getting bigger. This is mostly because a lot of this shit needs to get cleared before the holidays, especially the urgents. This isn't just something that can marinade over the bank holiday, y'know? This is "whether someone has cancer", most of the time.

You know, I wanted a nice Saturday where I could maybe even go out for more than just a quick errand or two. Do some window shopping, see if anything stuck out as a thing Mum would like for Christmas, something like that. I wanted to slow-cook my short ribs. I wanted to run D&D for my Saturday group. But nope. Saturday (and potentially Sunday, depending on how bad this gets) is going to be a combination of a quick errand run, various bits of household chore (I desperately need to do laundry and take out the trash), and work work work work work, eating whatever's easiest to cram into my face at the time.

I know it's really mean to think this, but I honestly wish my colleagues - and more to the point, my manager - could go through what I go through. Just for one day. Just so they know what it's like. I doubt most of them would take some of the load off me out of sympathy - so few of my colleagues seem to have sympathy for anyone, frankly - but ... godsdamnit, they deserve it. I wouldn't normally say that anyone deserves the fibromyalgia pain, but right now I am prepared to make an exception. I have had nearly no life for the best part of a month because of this, and there's at least another week of it to go. I say "at least" because I have zero confirmation that Temp's going to be back on the 16th, and no fucking clue what her approach to work will be like when she is back. Not that her approach to work was great to begin with, but y'know, at least it was something.

So in short ... another weekend gone entirely to shit before it even started. I hope everyone else is doing better than I am. Now a bit of self-care to see if I can get to feeling vaguely human rather than ... I dunno, a run-over possum.

[just-ornstein]

15 for the Sims questions :3

15. The weirdest glitch I've ever encounter?

Oh boi... My games have a tendency to constantly break on themselves. I'll select a few of my personal favourites, cause over the years I have encountered far too many to keep track of!

For the Sims 2 it's definitely this weird glitch that both my Veronaville AND my Strangetown were thrown back in time at some point. With my Veronaville I could at least make some sense of it due to having One Drive at that time. But Strangerown... I've been playing that game on my computer specifically for Sims 2 for ages. It has no One Drive. And this was literally my back up file lol!

I am thankful for some of the gems it gave me though. As much as I'm pissed that I have to make Mambo Loa adopt a child all over again, except now she's even older and her roommate Oscar is probs gonna become the child's foster parent after her passing... Or the fact that I have to make Tristan, Optimum Alfred and Giuseppi's ENTIRE FAMILY WITH MEMORIES all over again. Plus the fact that the whole GBA/DS side of the hood got wiped but the decor is still there (and the Sims that still do exist, still have the memories to match the passing of time). OR MY DAMN STRANGETOWN CEMETERY/CHURCH... It did create a good story arc for my Strangetown which amplifies my main one about government and alien conspiracy theories plus mind wiping.

Also... Whatever the fuck happened to Loki and Circe for a brief moment. I thought their face data literally got wiped cause when I made them look in the mirror they both ended up with the corrupted faces. Yet when I exited their home and came back they were fine?? What were those two on about lol!

Also... Squishy... We cannot forget the absolute icon that is Squishy. Thank you time machine Veronaville for giving him to me lol!

For Sims 3 it is this weird glitch where as you play a town for a while people, especially children will eventually go missing. They'll still show up in the family trees, but their portraits take a while to load. But they're nowhere to be found and do not even show up in the relationship panels anymore. It's like they just disappeared one day and there's no way to get them back. Super freaky if you ask me!

For Sims 4, I constantly walk against game breaking glitch after game breaking glitch... The funniest one to me however was how Dominic and Duncan's baby kept showing up on the other side of town whenever they came back from work and she came back from daycare. These two dudes, as the exhausted parents they are, actually had to walk (cause God forbid we have cars) with close to no energy every damn time to pick their kid with neglected needs (cause daycare didn't even bother to look after her lol) up!

Another one that made me crack up was how I randomly got a pop up one day that Circe's high school graduation was happening despite the fact that this woman already had both her high school AND university degree in her fucking inventory lol! I just had to go there and see what would happen... Loved seeing her go on stage with all these teens.

Lastly I had this weird glitch that despite having my aging system follow that of the Sims 2, when I went to other households after a while of playing the Newlows and the Beakers, they just... All aged up... At once. Even those I had played for a while previously and were fine back then. This resulted in every damn elder dying at the same time and every damn Sim aging up and being depressed about a missed birthday. And since Jenny was apparently pregnant at this time she became a pregnant elder? What? I didn't even know that was possible lol! At least Patrizo and Isabella got to die together! Sims 4 is a very stable game I swear to God.