#you can take my hot cocoa from my cold dead hands

[thoughtfulfoxllama]

You wanted me to spill tea, and tea I will spill:

The Word of Wisdom is fundamentally misunderstood by everyone (myself included). Let's look at the Word of Wisdom, shall we?

Let's begin with the Prohibitions, as these are the only things enforced by the Church. They comprise of Alcohol, Tobacco, Illicit Drugs, Coffee, and Tea. From the start, we can't deny Tobacco, Coffee, or Tea. The WoW only said "Hot Drinks," but Hyrum (who was authorized to receive revelation for the Church at the time) said it meant Coffee & Tea.

On the subject of Tea, Herbs of the Field. The Lord has told us to use all the herbs of the field with prudence. This is not me saying to distrust medical professionals, but they can help sometimes. I can't count how many times I've had a horrible stomach ache helped by Peppermint Tea. But it'd be dumb to reject the advancements in medicine we've made in the past 10,000 years. This is also why I support medicinal marijuana (and other things like psychedelic therapy). As long as it is used in wisdom & moderation, it can do good for a number of physical and mental issues (such as my grandmother using it for her seizures, or that veteran who used it for his PTSD)

Finally, Alcohol. The Word of Wisdom only prohibits "strong drinks" (which was defined as distilled alcohol, like Vodka). It encourages Mild Drinks (such as beer), and says we can have wine, if Mormons make it. Joseph drank wine (for pleasure, not just for ritual), Brigham owned a Brewery, and on and on. Obviously, wisdom & prudence. If someone has alcohol issues, they shouldn't drink. This fits into my concept of Zion. Drinking for Pleasure is fine, but Drunkenness is unacceptable. We need to enjoy pleasure without getting consumed by them. But since so few of us can manage that, I see why the Church went the way it did

Next, what have we been encouraged to eat. Grain (which is the Staff of Life), Fruits, and Vegetables. There are people who can't eat them (people with Gluten Intolerances & the like), but I can't argue with this. Fruits and Veggies are good

Although, wisdom is required here too. Not all food is made equal. I'm not going to go completely crazy about GMOs (we've been modifying our food for over 5 millennia), but we need to be more careful about the affects. And the flour we use nowadays is stripped of basically all it's nutritional benefits

Final is the mixed category, namely meats & animal products

The WoW never actually mentions animal products, so this is all me. Animal Products are good, and should be used. Eggs (especially considering the "eat meat sparingly" part) are an amazing source of protein. Milk is good for calcium, if you're not lactose intolerant (like I am). The Lord approves of Honey so much he constantly mentions it in association with the Promised Land(s), and specifically told the Jaredites to take bees with them. But, like all foods we've covered so far, careful. My FiL used to be Egg Intolerant, until he started raising his own Chickens, and he's had no problems with those eggs (and they taste way better, and fill me up way more than Store-Bought ones)

The Lord taught us to "eat meat sparingly," and I've seen a bunch of interpretations, from Vegans to Carnivores. All hold some merits, but no one gets it all right. I don't even think I get this one. Ryan Hinkley (a Blogger & Podcaster) said part of his interpretation is that we should do the least harm. He advocates restricting meat use to meats like Venison and Beef, because they are large enough to feed a lot of people over a long period of time (and have you ever had Venison Tacos. Try it sometime, if you eat meat). It mentions Cold & Famine, and this could be because of the extra protein, which allows you to build mass, to keep warm in winter, and last longer in famine times. In addition, if you work in agriculture (especially in the time of JS), that's the most available food you have in the dead of winter. I want to add to this the prophecy about the Sons of Levi offering a sacrifice. Sacrifice for the remission of sins is done away with, but I believe animal sacrifice will return. In Biblical Animal Sacrifice, the Meat (for the most part) wasn't burned to dust, but roasted and eaten. If I am correct, and it does return, then the reason we are to eat meat sparingly is so that when we do eat it, it's as a celebration of the mercies of God. That's just my crackpot theory though, with ideas I've had floating around for years

(And this is all just a theory. I want to try restricting my meat intake & whatnot, but I don't feel ready for that. And even if the Church said we could drink, I probably wouldn't, because I have a family history of alcohol & drug abuse)

[munsster]

Hi I just read fixer user and I loved it! I was wondering if you could do a part 2 💖💖

an act of true love

A/N: (your pfp made me scream and curl my toes) an unexpected amount of ppl rlly enjoyed this dynamic. i suppose i have found my people ���� (gif creds: @kingofscoops)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: In the dead of winter, there’s absolutely nothing that could keep you warm. After all, only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), mention of toxic ex boyfriend, cursing, gross flirting

Steve can hear you shivering through the receiver and your stuttered breaths crackling through the cord. You’re begging him to come over and fix your radiator in the middle of a snow storm. The roads aren’t closed yet, but a thin white powder blankets his front lawn and the top of his beemer and he can see the flakes whipping through the stream of light pouring from the streetlamp. So, he piles every blanket he has into his passenger seat and braves the drive to your house.

Does he know how to repair a busted radiator? No.

Is he determined to do anything you require of him? Every single day for the rest of his life.

He’s crouched by the window of your living room, looking for any telltale signs of wear or leaking. You’re standing just behind him, bundled in two blankets and holding a spare flashlight. He’s quiet as he tinkers, but your mind is racing watching his soft toned arms through his cream thermal and his back muscles working when he turns over his shoulder to glance at you with a dashing smile. You nod quickly when he says something, though you’re not exactly sure what.

“Sweetheart?” he coos, raising his brows when you recoil under his gaze.

“Sorry, I didn’t… I wasn’t listening,” you say with a chuckle. He grins, dropping his head in understanding.

“Sorry, I know it’s boring,” he says, “but has it been making noises or anything?”

“Oh, yeah! It kinda groans when I first turn it on and it sounds like it might explode for the first couple minutes. I guess I’ve tuned it out by now.”

“That’s probably not a good sound then,” he teases, turning back to the radiator with a puzzled look.

“No, probably not.” You shuffle off to the kitchen, setting a kettle on the stove and humming softly.

After half an hour of tinkering and a roll of tape, Steve stands and wipes his hands on his jeans.

“That should do it! It’ll probably take a sec to heat up again,” he sighs, and you emerge from the kitchen, balancing two hefty mugs brimming with whipped cream. “Ooh, what’s this?”

“Hot cocoa. Secret family recipe,” you tease. In actuality, it’s just the standard package of chocolate powder and sugar. The secret lies in the healthy dash of cinnamon you mix into it.

“Secret, eh? Guess that gives me a reason to come see you more often,” he hums, following you to the couch and taking one of the mugs from your hands. It warms him up nicely, and he knows you gave him the bigger mug on purpose when you smile triumphantly. He takes a sip, moaning at the sweetness. You giggle at the whipped cream kissing his top lip.

“I hope I’m reason enough,” you say with a faux pout. He sits close enough to share the pile of blankets with you, your thighs pressed against one another in the captured heat.

“Duh, you’re the main attraction,” he huffs, “Your hot chocolate is like the flashy side show. It’s pretty neat but not quite as cool as the reason you bought the ticket.”

You giggle into your mug, face hot in the bellowing steam. Or because of his dimpled cheeks. Or the way his eyes swoop over your face. Or maybe the way he came rushing to your rescue in a storm without a second thought.

“Any new Brad-related developments? Or is he still giving you shit?” he says, swallowing a warm gulp of liquid chocolate.

You groan, head lulling back against the couch. “He keeps calling to say I’m a cold hearted bitch and then immediately hang up. I think he forgot that he’s the one who broke up with me.”

“Right, right. Why’s that again?”

“Something about his family’s values. And how he hates my friends,” you say, “I just remember getting mad because he seemed so jealous and mistrusting. Honestly, in hindsight, he was really childish about the whole thing.”

You shrug it off, but it snaps his heart in two all over again. He doesn’t even want to know the gorey details because he knows it’ll boil his blood. Just knowing that asshole said something like that to you makes his fists ball up in frustration. But he thinks of what you said. What did Brad have to be jealous about; he had the entire world and Steve never bat an eye. Not to you, at least.

“Jealous?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, he’d give me all these ultimatums where I’d have to choose between you and him. So random,” you huff. Though, maybe he was justified in some way. You and Steve have been this close since the day you met. Any love interest would feel threatened by his charm and that smile.

“Oh… weird”—He watches you take a cautious sip from your mug like maybe you regret saying anything at all—“Yeah. That’s random. Had no idea I posed such a threat to that guy. He seemed so… self-assured.”

You stare blankly, shrugging when you mutter, “you can call him a narcissistic prick, i don't care. And yeah, I was kinda surprised the first time he brought it up, because a big part of why I was attracted to him was for his confidence” you chuckle, “No idea what went wrong!

Steve absentmindedly squares his shoulders, sitting up straught on the plush cushions trying to make himself look strong and reliable and confident. You sip your hot chocolate and look at him funny.

“Are you okay?” you say, holding in a laugh.

He nods. “Oh, yeah. I’m just super confident ‘s all.”

You snort, choking on the sip you’d sucked down, pinching your eyes closed when he lurches forward with a worried look slapped across his face.

“Shit, here, let me help,” he huffs, setting his mug aside and wiping the drips from your chin with his sleeve, “Oh, god, are you hurt???”

You cackle with tears pricking in your eyes when he carefully takes your mug and places it next to his. You pat dry your neck, and he watches you softly.

“Stevie, you’re so sweet.”

His heart flutters in his warm chest when you smile at him.

“Well, I dunno about that.”

“No, seriously. You’re so caring and thoughtful, I’ve never met anyone like you,” you whisper.

He takes a shaky breath in.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

You nod heartily and grin wide, and you notice he’s staring at you. So you kick his calf under the blanket.

“Hey, ouch!”

You giggle, but he’s quick to grab the crook of your knee and tug you close so you’re laying flat on the couch. Your hands cover your face when he tickles your sides and leans over you playfully. He’s almost glad you can’t see him blushing or feel his heart racing or hear his head booming with thoughts of you. He gasps when you plant your socked foot on his thigh, but he holds your elbow gently to keep you close to him while he leans over you.

You’re laughing, and he can confidently say it’s his favorite sound. You palm his chest, and he takes a deep breath in. Your eyes flick open because you’ve never felt someones heart beat so fast and so warm just beneath your fingertips. He’s flushed and pink but he looks like a prince in the orange lamplight. And he’s so close to you.

Your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, barely grasping, and you crane your neck towards him. You watch his honey eyes draw over your lips just before he leans in and kisses you.

His hand molds into your side, melting over the exposed skin like hot syrup. You press into his hold and smile with your fingers drawing up and across the back of his neck.

But the kiss short lived when he pulls away, shoving a hand through his ruffled hair.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Steve huffs, standing and backing away, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I should go!”

He crosses the floor in a daze, forcing his feet back into his shoes before you even can sit up and call after him.

“Steve, wait!”

But he’s shaking his head and reaching for the ice cold door handle with his jacket barely slung over his shoulders. He whips the door open, and you can see the pure white snow floating down in sheets outside.

“Keep the blankets! Just call me if the radiator breaks again, and I’ll see you!”

The door slams shut.

You tut, hand coming to your lips as you look around at the scene before you. The abandoned mugs on the coffee table, his blankets folded over the back of the couch, your repaired radiator whirring softly in the corner. The absence of Steve. What would the kids say. You know they’d lose it, but would they be upset if you ended up together. Would they realize they changed their minds and you’d jeopardized not only your friendship with Steve but with the entire party.

What if everything changes?

Oh, but what if nothing changes: you and Steve tip toeing around each other, the kids scheming and giggling at your misfortune, but now changed by the fact that you’ve kissed Steve. And he kissed you back. And you like him so much.

"Oh, god.”

more like this

masterlist

[frenchkisstheabyss]

✦ love poem ✦

✦ Pairing: dad!choi san x pregnant!chubby!fem!reader w/ appearances by ot8

✦ Genre: fluff/light angst

✦ Summary: Being pregnant during the holidays has been hectic. Especially for your fiance San whose tight work schedule has him under pressure. But when his best friend Hwa steps in to ease the burden on him by being there for you, it creates more jealousy than Christmas cheer.

✦ Word Count: 3.5k-ish

✦ Warnings: pregnant reader, occasionally strong language, some quick lusting after San while he's in the shower (nothing graphic), & that's all.

✦ A/N: I really wanted to write something sweet with like the tiniest bit of angst so there's nothing heavy here. It's mostly just lovey dovey shit cause, I mean, I'm a lover girl. What can I say?

Standing at the entrance of the tunnel of lights, you watch in awe as thousands of tiny bulbs twinkle to the tune of the Christmas music that coasts along the night air. Every year the local zoo holds a massive festival of lights to celebrate the holiday season. During your first year here San had plans to take you to opening night but, with his schedule being as unpredictable as it is, that never did happen. This year though, he promised that nothing would stop you from experiencing this together and he meant it.

As much as San and the rest of the boys hyped this place up to you, nothing could’ve prepared you for how breathtaking it is in person. It’s magical. The carnival rides, the little Christmas themed games, the stalls selling some of the best food you ever tasted. And the displays. They’re pure art. It may be too cold for the animals to be out but the elaborate light sculptures of them make up for it tenfold. Children race through the light tunnels while couples cuddle up in line for hot cocoa. If ever “Winter Wonderland” were a place this would have to be it.

“Stop running!” Hongjoong yells from behind you. Seconds later Mingi and Jongho dart past you in a blur. You turn in time to see the look of defeat on Hongjoong’s face as he approaches with the others close behind. “I swear sometimes they act like children,” he groans, “Take it from me. Don’t have kids. It’s not worth it.” Popping on a pair of knit gloves, Yunho gestures towards the pregnant belly rounding out your thick winter coat. “I think that advice is about 7 months too late.”

Hongjoong gasps in horror, “Oh. I mean, you know, except that one. I’m sure it’ll be a cute little thing.” You can only giggle at how flustered any mention of your pregnancy gets him. Hongjoong hasn’t quite grasped that San’s about to be someone’s dad. Even as your belly has grown, he’s managed to periodically forget what’s happening but he’s trying to be supportive and it’s sweet. Seonghwa pats you softly on the belly, laying his head on your shoulder, “Pay him no mind. She’ll be a cute little baby. Not a thing. I mean, look at her mom”

"Oh, Hwa, you’re too sweet” you blush, patting him on the cheek. “The baby! I think it kicked!” He’s right. You felt it. It’s about that time of night after all. The moment she could start kicking she did. Especially around bedtime. Suddenly they’re all gathered close around you staring at your stomach as if the baby will burst out at this very moment like some alien spawn. Woo kneels down in front of you, resting his hand behind Hwa’s. “Aah!” he squeals, “She’s saying hi to her uncles. Hi, baby!”

By now Mingi and Jongho have circled back, stopping dead in their tracks to see what all the fuss is about. “What’s going on?” Jongho asks, Mingi’s hat clenched in his hand. Mingi snatches his hat back, peering over Jongho’s shoulder, “It’s not happening is it?” Seeing the panic in his eyes, you immediately jump to calm him down, “Not yet. She’s kicking up a fuss. That’s all.” “So much like her dad already” Yeosang teases, just as San appears to push them aside. “Hands off!” he orders, shooing them away, “I go to the bathroom for two seconds and you’re already crowding my kid.”

The others just laugh, not expecting to witness such a perfect example of Yeosang’s statement so soon. “You okay? Everything okay?” he asks, fixing the scarf around your next and popping your hood over your head. “Baby, it’s not that cold.” “Temperature’s supposed to drop 5 degrees in the next half hour. Gotta stay toasty, honey.” San’s always been attentive, doing everything he could to make sure you were taken care of but the pregnancy has kicked it into overdrive.

Taking his hands, you give him a warm peck on the lips and flash a smile that soothes his worries. “I’m okay, Sannie. I promise. Now let’s go.” The tunnel’s far more mesmerizing from the inside than it is simply looking in. It feels like a portal to a different world, replacing the darkness of the night sky with constellations of red and green that guide you to the next section of the zoo. Each area has one unique to the space you’re about to step into.

A tunnel of mistletoe and vines for the flower garden. One built like a giant sleigh for the reindeer village. And that’s not even half of it. How anyone can make it through this place in one night is beyond you. Then again, not everyone is toting another human around in their belly. By the time you make it through the ice tunnel into the replica North Pole, your feet are killing you but you try to hold it together.

Between doctor’s appointments, work, redecorating the apartment, and a million other things that need to be done before the baby arrives, there’s been zero time to do anything fun. Calling it quits this early feels wrong. Especially since San's been so stressed lately. Spending time with the guys seems to be just the thing he needed to shake some of that off.

“How many more lights do we have to see before we’ve seen enough?” Mingi whines, dragging his feet. Alright, so maybe someone else is as over it as you are. Yunho slaps Mingi on the back, taking a deep breath, “Have some holiday cheer! We’re in such a beautiful place. Where else would you rather be?” “Somewhere warm! With food!” Woo adds, backing Mingi up. Jongho jumps it, never one to miss the opportunity, “And drinks! When’s the last time we all had drinks together?”

Hongjoong crosses his arms, throwing them some wicked side eye, until he realizes, “Actually it has been a while since we went out for drinks.” Woo wraps his arms around Yeosang, determined to rope him into this plan, “You in? Say yes. Say yes!” “Yeah, sure fine, whatever” Yeosang laughs, shrugging him off. Hwa clears his throat, preparing to be the bearer of bad news, “Well it’s not just us you guys. There’s kinda a 10th person here now.”

For a fleeting moment, you were able to detect some excitement on San’s face and Hwa’s words wipe it away in an instant. Everyone falls silent, not quite sure what to do with the awkwardness of the moment. “Hey,” you say, lovingly rubbing San’s chest, “Why don’t you go get those drinks?” “What? No. I’m not leaving you. We said we’d do this.” “We did and I’ve had the best time but, honestly, my feet hurt like shit.” “Then I’ll take you home and run some water so you can soak your feet” San insists, guiding you out of the way of an approaching crowd.

“San, please, for the love of god, go” you beg, looking to his friends for support. “I’ll take her home!” Hwa volunteers, “I’m not really up for drinking anyway.” San glares skeptically back and forth between the two of you. He wants to protest but he gets the sense that arguing with you is a losing battle and he’s right. “Fine” he relents, “But text me when you get home. Love you.” The way you light up when he finally gives in is one of the infinite reasons why he loves you the way that he does. “I will. Love you too.” “Love you three!” “Love you four!” you say, kissing him before Jongho begins to drag him in the other direction. “We’re not doing this all night! Let’s go!”

Parting ways is a sea of goodbyes and bickering that continues until you lose sight of the rest of the group. Hooking his arm into yours, Hwa directs you towards a festive snack stand not too far away. “Wanna eat like trash before we go home?” he offers with a mischievous grin, knowing San would murder him if he knew. You nod, playfully tearing up, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

“Baby, have you seen my keys?” you shout from the bedroom, digging through your purse for the third time. “Huh?” San calls back, the water rushing from the shower making it impossible to hear you. Shuffling down the hall, you pop your head into the bathroom. “I was asking if you’d seen my keys.” San peeks from behind the shower curtain, shampoo bubbles dripping down his sculpted cheekbones. In an instant, you forget all about your keys. What else could possibly matter when San’s standing here dripping wet, every muscle in his defined chest glistening like gold. Snap out of it. This is how you got pregnant in the first place. 

“I saw them by the stove I think.” “Thanks, ya cutie” you wink, ready to skip off to find them. “Wait,” he says before you can make it more than a step and a half away, “You’re all dressed up. Where are you going?” Scanning your outfit, you don’t see anything particularly “dressed up” about what you’re wearing. Some knit overalls with a cozy sweater underneath and your favorite boots are far from red carpet ready in your mind. “Hwa’s taking me shopping for decorations. Don’t you remember?” San frowns, only vaguely remembering the conversation, “Why didn’t you ask me?” “I did but you said you were busy today so Hwa offered to take me.” 

Your phone dings in your pocket. You fish it out and find a text message from Hwa telling you he’s outside. “Ooh, speak of the devil. Gotta run.” Carefully, you make your way across the bathroom floor, giving him a kiss that you struggle to keep innocent with the knowledge of what’s behind the curtain. “Have fun and tell Joong I said hi! I’ll bring you back something!” you sing and you’re off to find your keys. San’s frozen in place, unable to bring himself to move an inch. Even after he’s heard the apartment door close, it takes him a second to get back to his shower.

It’s been two weeks since the light festival and you’ve seen Hwa every few days since. Every time San’s too busy to do something Hwa’s right there to help. When did he become so available? You always come home so happy too. Were you that happy with him? Letting the water wash over his head, he tries to shake away his jealous thoughts.

You moved here to be with him and, in that time, the only friends you’d made were his. Hwa’s just being a good friend to the both of you, helping when San’s unable to. Thinking that it's anything else is ridiculous. All of the long hours spent working must be getting to him. Hwa would never...

You would never...

Neither of you would...

Right? Right? 

Pregnancy hormones. They’re the one thing no one can ever quite prepare you for. One minute you’re hanging ornaments on the tree, humming along to your music in a cozy pair of pajamas. The next you’re crying on the kitchen floor, stuffing your mouth with the cookies you baked for the holiday party tomorrow.

It’s nearly midnight and everything makes you emotional. The lights on the tree are too bright, your feet feel swollen, the cookies aren’t as sweet as you'd like, and suddenly you can’t stand the song that’s playing despite it being one of your favorites. You want everything off but then the house would be quiet and empty. You’d be reminded that you’re all alone until San comes home tomorrow and cry even harder.

You pull out your phone to call him but when you see the time you decide not to. His flight is in a few hours and he’s already told you what a long day he had. You’d hate to wake him up, to burden him any more than you feel you already have.�� Just as you’re about to put your phone down it lights up. A text from Seonghwa. Some adorable video of a cat dressed up as one of Santa’s elves.

The poor thing looks miserable running around in that costume but it makes you laugh enough to stop you from spiraling. Taking a deep breath, you wipe away the tears blurring your vision and shoot a text back. 

You: Thanks. I really needed that.

Hwa: Why? Something wrong?

You: I’m having a crying thing. Kinda sad tonight.

Hwa: Need some company?

Without thinking, you type out the words “You don’t have to—” before erasing them and typing out something new. "Sure!"

It takes him no time at all to reach you. The streets are empty this time of night and he only lives a half hour away. Even if he lived two hours away—three hours away—he’d drive every single one of them to come support you. When you became someone special to San, you became someone special to him too. He’s never seen San more serious about anything than he's been about you and this baby. As much as he wishes that San would get out of his head a bit more, it’s cute to see him love something so much. 

“Anybody home?” Hwa whispers, his eyes narrowing when he notices that your front door is cracked. “Come in” you sob from the couch, blowing your nose for what feels like the 1000th time since you sent that last text. Hwa follows a trail of discarded tissues to find you curled up on the couch, as curled as you can be this far along in your pregnancy. “Hey, hey, don’t cry” he coos, easing himself down onto the couch and resting your head in his lap, “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You try to speak but you’re too short of breath to get anything out. Hwa strokes your hair, taking slow breaths in and out, “Follow me, okay? In and out.” You shake your head in protest. The whole room is closing in around you. You can’t do it. “Just try it. For me. Please” he begs so sweetly that you can’t refuse. Deep breath in, long breath out. The same way that they taught you in those birthing classes you went to. “This is total bullshit” you’d whispered to San at one point during the class but it turns out it isn’t bullshit at all. 

After a few seconds, the tightness in your chest eases and the room begins to open up. The world isn’t falling apart anymore. You’re safe. Hwa sits with you in silence as your breathing quiets, dabbing away any rogue tears that drip down your cheeks. “Is San happy with me?” you ask, catching him off guard, “Is this too much for him, do you think?” Hwa laughs, knowing how extremely far from the truth both of those questions are. “Hwa, it’s not funny! I’m serious!” “I’m sorry! I’m not trying to make fun of you, it’s just—if you make him happy or not, that’s not a question. He’s crazy about you.”

Grabbing the small blanket folded over the back of the couch, he opens it up and tucks you in with it. “None of this is too much,” he swears, “You and her…” Hwa pokes your belly, making you giggle. “You guys are everything he’s ever wanted. He pushes himself so much because he wants to be perfect for you.” You yawn, Hwa’s presence and the warm blanket activating the exhaustion you’ve been fighting. “But he’s already perfect to me. Why can’t he see that?” “Mmm, it’s really hard sometimes to see ourselves the way other people do but he’ll come around. I promise.”

If there’s one similarity you’ve come to find between San and Hwa it’s how important promises are to them. If Hwa says he’ll come around then he will. They’d been friends for ages before you came into the picture. They’ve gone through more together than you can imagine. If Hwa's confident about it, then you have to believe it too. You drift off to sleep, your brain still spinning but much quieter now, trusting that everything will be just fine.

Right? Right? 

“Listen to yourself. You sound crazy!” Hwa snaps, trying his hardest not to raise his voice in the midst of his anger. San tosses his bags to the floor and they hit with a thud that shakes you from your sleep. “I come home to you cuddled up on the couch with her and I’m crazy?” “She texted me last night that she was crying. What was I supposed to do?” “Tell me! And let me take care of her! She’s not yours so stop treating her like she is!”

San’s jaw clenches, the jealousy he’s been harboring turning into true pain for the first time. He thought he had this under control. Those hours of talking with Woo about how stupid his suspicions were had chased off his insecurities. But coming in, tired and cranky from his flight, to see you so peacefully cuddled against Hwa had undone all of it. He wanted to kill him and the knowledge that he was the first one you reached for when you were hurting only adds fuel to the fire currently burning his self control to ash.

“Sannie?” you squeak, stretching out your cramped limbs, “What’s going on?” You sit up, eyes still squinted, to see what all of the fuss is about. Hwa hangs his head, unable to face you, “I think I should go. If you need me I’m here for both of you.” “Wait, no!” you say, doing your best to roll off of the couch and stop him but by the time you’re on your feet he’s gone. Turning your attention to San, you immediately sense his anger. Something happened and whatever it was has him fuming.

“Baby, what happened? You can talk to—” “Is there something going on between you two?” “What?” you laugh, placing your hands on your lower back for support. You keep laughing but the sharpness of his expression never changes. He’s actually waiting for an answer. “Oh god, you’re serious. You’re actually asking me if I’m fucking Seonghwa.” “I didn’t say that.” “But that’s what you’re saying. That’s what you think of me.”

You catch yourself wanting to cry again, only this time it isn’t because of the pregnancy hormones. It’s because you waited for days to see the man you love only to be accused of something like this. San can almost see the moment your heart breaks, making him regret his doubts in an instant. “He’s been helping me because I was worried about you burning yourself out. That’s it. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Your bottom lip quivers and the tears are rushing from your eyes again. “Fuck, I’m so tired of crying” you huff, flopping back down onto the couch. 

San’s at your side quicker than he’s ever been, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go. “I’m sorry! Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it. I know you’d never do that.” “Then why were you two arguing? Why even ask me?” “Because I’m afraid” he admits, leaving you both shocked at his admission. He’s scared, terrified, so much that it keeps him up at night. “I’m afraid I’m not good enough to be what you need me to be and it was easier to be jealous than to admit that.”

You’re frustrated enough that you could slap him but your body feels so at home in his embrace that you can’t pull away. “You’re good enough for me…for us, San. You have to believe me when I say that.” “Then why do you call him when you’re crying and not me?” “Because,” you sigh, “I’m afraid too. I don’t want to lean on you too much.” “What? Lean on me too much?” he asks, almost offended, “Lean on me all you want. What do you think I work out for?”

You giggle when you feel his muscles flex against you, “San, be serious!” “I am! Lean on me, please. We’re a team. I need you to trust me to be here.” You stare at him, your eyes beautiful enough to hypnotize him even when they’re clouded with tears. “You have to trust me to be here too, you know?” San kisses your forehead, one hand gently massaging your back, “I trust you, baby.” Closing your eyes a tingly feeling washes over you. Is it love? The Christmas spirit? The tingling is chased by a contraction stronger than any period cramp you’ve ever felt.

“The baby’s coming!” you shout, gripping your stomach. San jumps back in shock as if he didn’t know you were pregnant to begin with. “Are you sure?” “You said you trust me!” “I do! I do! Hold on!” Leaning you back on the couch, San darts around the apartment collecting all of the things he’s prepared over the last few months to make you comfortable when this happens. A bag packed with clothes for you and your favorite slippers. Phone chargers, baby wipes, stuffed animals, the snacks you love. The list is endless.

“I’ll pull the car up and come back for you, okay?” he says, propping your feet up on the coffee table as he tries to put your coat on. “Just get the car. I’m okay.” “You sure?” “I’m sure and San,” you say, grabbing his arm. “Yeah?” “You’re gonna be a great dad. The best ever.” San can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face or the slight reddening of his cheeks. You believe in him, you truly do, and for the first time, he does too.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just the Two of Us: Night Changes

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: Steve stops by unexpectedly.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“No lie, that’s gotta be the best hot cocoa I’ve ever had,” Steve holds out his empty glass.  

You take his cup and he recoils, smothering a yawn in the crook of his elbow, “it’s off-brand and comes in a can. You don’t need to flatter me.” 

“I’m not exaggerating,” he chuckles as he drops his arm. His eyes are shadows with dark rings. It’s only then you notice how tired he looks. He did mention he’d just got back from a mission. “Delicious.” 

“Sure,” you grab your cup and go around the counter to rinse both out. 

He stretches his arms above him as the futons squeak. He yawns again, this time almost roaring, “Guess I should head out soon,” he says. 

“No rush, but you seem beat,” you put one mug in the rack then work at the other. “Shouldn’t be too busy this late.” 

He doesn’t respond as the faucet continues to flow. You shut it off and set the other mug in the metal holder. You dry off your hands and peek over at him. Is he... 

The loud snort affirms your suspicions. In a second, he’s fallen asleep. He must be dead tired. You wonder why he even bothered coming. Then again, you know how those things can sneak up on you. 

You hang the dishcloth and go to the couch. His legs are splayed and limp, his hands on his thighs, as his chest rises and falls with his snores. You raise your hand and hover it above his shoulder. You hesitate. 

You curl your fingers in as you think of another sleeping man. The type that would explode out of sleep and scream until your ears hurt. Then more pain. The kind that left bruises. 

You back up and drop your arm. You can let him sleep. He’s tired. He’s been out fighting bad guys and you’ve been sitting here staring at the sky. 

You check the balcony door, then the front door to make sure the locks are in place. You tiptoe around as his steady snores continue. You take a blanket from the closet and drape it over him cautiously. 

You grab your bedding from the chest you also use as a coffee table and lay it out on the floor. Folded, the futon isn’t very big. You add an extra quilt for padding and turn off the lights. 

You lay down and put white noise on your phone to help you sleep. At first, you can’t. You close your eyes but you’re restless and the floor is hard. You roll this way and that until you feel that heaviness in your eyelids. When you fall asleep, it a sludgy darkness that aches in your limps. 

When you wake, you’re stiff and sore. You shiver and hug the blankets closer as the cold air nips at your cheek. You can see your breath. The morning light peers in with a grim gray haze and adds to the frigidity. You groan. You’re too freezing and achy to make yourself sit up. 

“Hey,” Steve’s voice startles you as his footsteps circle around the chest, “where’s your thermostat? It’s getting a bit chilly.” 

“Therm...” you murmur through chattering teeth, “the building controls i-i-it. D-d-don't have one.” 

“Jeez, you slept on the floor,” he looks down as you realise he’d been calling out as if you have another room; well, there’s the bathroom. “You could’ve woken me up.” 

“You were tired,” you say hoarsely and sniffle. You turn onto your side. Your nose is full and you can barely breathe. You can hear the nasal clog in your voice. 

“Are you getting sick?” He asks. 

“No,” you insist, “it’s just the dry air.” 

You hide the pang that rattles your skull and nearly whimper as you push away the blankets. You stand, mustering all your efforts, and cross your arms, not only to warm yourself but to hide your very braless torso. 

“Sound sick to me,” he says. 

“I’m fine,” you snort deeply. “Mm, I need some tea.” 

“You need to relax,” he turns and goes to the futon. He feels underneath it and releases the lever to it falls flat. “Lay down. I can make the tea.” 

“I said I’m all good,” you argue, “please Steve. You should go home and get some real sleep.” 

“Speak for yourself,” he counters. 

You laugh, “it’s good, Cap. You don’t have to save me from myself. Really. I’ve slept on worse floors.” 

You shake your head and brush past him. You go around the counter and put the kettle on. You hug yourself and rub your arms as you blow out your breath. 

“You have?” He says. 

You look at him curiously. “I’ve what?” 

“You’ve said you’ve slept on worse floor...” his expression is dire. 

You smile and shrug, “and I’m sure you have too.” 

He stares at you. You shy away and turn to take out a mug. He approaches and stands just to the side, fingers tapping on laminate. 

“It’s awfully cold in here.” 

“Thought you wouldn’t feel it. The serum or whatever,” you suggest. 

“Yes, I’m not worried about me.” He says. 

“Do you want some tea? More hot chocolate?” You offer. 

“You’re changing the subject.” 

“Because the conversation is over. I told you, I’m not sick. It’ll warm up. There’s a timer on the radiator. Usually kicks in around nine and it’s only... 7:30.” You rub your palms together then blow into them. “I’ll just grab a blanket.” You pass him again. He’s rigid as you do. You swipe up a blanket, nearly letting out a whine as you bend over, and sweep it around your shoulders. “Much better,” you sigh. 

“That’s not right. How much do you pay for this place and they’re controlling the heat?” He scoffs. 

“Steve,” you give him a look. “I have a roof over my head and walls. That’s a lot for some people.” 

“And for you?” 

You look at him and raise your brows, “kinda.” 

“Right,” he accepts flatly. “Well, you sit down. I’ll make the tea.” 

“It’s my place--” 

“And I’m your friend. Let me just do something nice for you,” he says. “Since it’s too much to ask that you do something nice for yourself.” 

“Are you... mad?” You wince. 

Your heart lurches. Even if you know it’s just Steve, that he won’t be the same, you’re nervous. You don’t like anger. You clutch the blanket and draw it tight, shrinking down defensively. 

He looks at you and forces the stone from his jaw. He exhales and lets his shoulder relax. His eyes soften, “no, I’m concerned. That’s all.” 

“Well, you don’t need to be,” you sniffle. “Thanks for the tea.” 

You turn and go to the couch. You sit and wring the blanket in your hands. It’s not like it was. You’re safe. You’re far away. You don’t need to be like this. Yet, you are. When a car backfires, when a voice is raised, when you think you see a shadow in the corner of your eye...  

But Steve won’t hurt you. He’s trying to protect you because that’s what he does. It’s too much. You don’t deserve that. He has too many other people to worry about. 

[cobrabobra]

"Cold"

Carl Grimes x fem!reader, praising, vaginal fingering

I'm still new to this, so I apologize if it's monotone. Also English is not my first language so there might be mistakes.

"You're dead!" Carl looked at (Y/N) wide eyed, snow covering his face as he stood surprised. He bend down to take the biggest scoop of snow and throw it at his girlfriend. Oh, it was war now.

It was winter in Alexandria, a solid few inches of snow covered the ground, cold air tickled their lungs as they ran around the hole camp, playing in snow. But now playtime was over, it was time for some serious fighting.

(Y/N) only laughed cutely, shrugging, looking straight into Grimes' blue eyes, challenging him and acting innocent at the same time.

Her body moved, clearly readying itself to escape, but the boy was faster, tackling her to the ground, covering them in layers of fluffy, fresh snow.

"Gotcha" he smirked proudly as if he just tamed a wild beast, not grounded a teenage girl. "Can't escape now, sunshine" their breaths mixed, that's how close they were, their noses practically rubbing against each other, their hips pressed together separated with just a thin layer of their soaked clothes.

That's when he noticed she was shivering, her teeth clacking from the cold. It wasn't unexpected, they didn't have clothes that were designed for this kind of weather and they were rolling around in snow for hours, yet Carl couldn't help but feel concerned.

"Gosh, you're freezing" he picked her up, wrapping her with his hands, trying to warm her up a bit, but obviously that didn't help much. "We're going back" Grimes decided, taking her hand into his, their fingers were stiff, they barely had any feeling in them.

The walk to Carl's home was longer than they both expected, exhaustion suddenly hit them, cold piercing through their clothes, snow under their feet slowing them down significantly. When they finally got there the boy was already dreaming of a warm bath or drinking a hot cocoa sitting in front of a fireplace.

They left their shoes on a towel that Rick put up earlier and tried calling for him, but no one responded.

"Must be at Carol's" Carl hummed and stepped further inside. He took his coat off and threw it on the couch. "You want something hot to drink? Or we can take a shower?" He turned to face her, awaiting her decision.

"Shower" she managed to say, her jaw clenched, still bit warmed up yet.

"Let's get you out of these clothes" he stepped towards her, his hands on her sides, pulling her sweater up, revealing her smoth belly and her silky breasts covered with a bra.

Normally, she'd feel embarrassed, they've done stuff like this many times and she always blushed like crazy, something about Carl made it feel like it was still a new feeling. This time though, this wasn't sexual, he was just taking care of her, helping her and it made her heart flutter and filled her chest with warmth but it was the different kind.

Her pants fell down, belt buckle cliking as it hit the floor, leaving her in just her underwear. He shivered again, goosebumps covering her body, she tried to shield herself from the cold. Carl noticed that and quickly dragged her to the bathroom.

The titles were as cold as ice, making her toes curl at the unpleasant sensation. She stood there, observing her boyfriend's movement, he undressed quickly, too quickly for her. Yes, she was freezing but who wouldn't appreciate a little show?

(Y/N) hissed when her cold fingers touched her back in an attempt to undo her bra. Although it took longer than usual, it landed in the basket, just like Carl's garments moments ago. Same thing with her underwear, some almost painful touches, shutting her eyes at the feeling of clothes sticking to her skin.

"Get in" he said, his boxers long gone, curled up with the rest of their clothes. He took a minute to take in the view of her naked body, tracing her curves with his eyes, swallowing hard at the sight of her vulnerable state.

Piping hot, almost boiling water, covered their bodies as they stood in each other's embrace, letting their muscles relax, which wasn't easy because of the sensation of (Y/N)'s hard nipples pressed into Grimes' chest, their hips rubbing against each other with every little movement.

Little satisfied moans coming from the girls mouth, weren't helping either, they went straight to his dick, that was already teasing her sensitive folds.

"Feeling good, baby?" He chuckled, moving his hand to grab her neck, gently massaging the soft flesh underneath. This made his head fuzzy, this brief interaction, one like many others, made him realise once again how much he loved her.

"Yeah" her voice was breathy, her head tilted slightly back, clearly enjoying herself. She felt a familiar feeling slowly building up in her abdomen.

Carl seemed to notice that, because his fingers slided down her stomach, looking straight into her eyes as he started to tease her clit.

"Can't tell if it's the water or are you that wet already" he muttered into her neck, placing delicate kisses all over.

"Mm" she sighed, bitting her lip lightly. "Both"

"Good" he whispered straight into her ear, his voice unusually deep and raspy, like always when he got aroused. "You're so good for me"

She moaned uncontrollably at the praise, nodding her head a little, trying to show she indeed trying to be the best for him.

"My good girl, so wet for me" he kissed her jaw, slowly going down, towards her breasts. He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked it deliciously, trying to distract her form the feeling of his first finger sliding in her tight hole.

His movements started off slow, teasing, trying to get her as desperate as humanly possible. All it took was bending his finger a little for her to start rutting her hips against his hand.

He bit her nipple, delicate yet still inflicting a little bit of this delicious pain that got her weak in her knees.

"You're so pretty. My pretty girl, you're doing so good" he added another finger which got another whimper out of her, her thighs trembled, she leaned back again the shower wall to prop herself.

Wet strands of hair her stuck to her face, water dripping from her chin, down at her collar bones, continuing to slide across her body, to finally disappear between her legs, where Carl's fingers were stretching her pussy.

Carl's dick stood up gracefully, hurting like hell without attention it needed, but it didn't matter, now making (Y/N) come was all that counted.

"I'm close" her voice was weak and quiet. She tried to restrain herself from making too much noise, the bathroom walls carried sounds like the newest Bluetooth speaker.

"Yeah? You're gonna cum for me? Cum in my first fingers?" He teased, his thumb circling her clit as his fingers practically pounded her poor, sensitive cunt. "Be good and cum for me"

Her toes curled again, this time bit from the cold but the feeling of an approaching orgasm. Grimes' lips muffled her moan, wet tounge sliding in, exploring her mouth as she felt her body tensing up, reading itself for the finish.

His fingers abused that spot inside her that made her stomach flutter, that lit fireworks in her abdomen.

Metalic taste of blood filled their mouths, coming from Carl's lip that she took liberty to bite as she came. Pure pleasure flooded her mind as she rode her orgasm, fucked herself on his fingers.

"You're not cold anymore, are you?"

[xxkiller-muffinxx]

That's my girl

John Dory x reader part 2/2

Summary: John Dory shows up out of nowhere (again), but with that he brings trouble, the trouble of the mind and the heart.

Words: 2582

Warnings: too much fluff, it hurts- also still no color coding cuz I'm lazy and when I'm writing this its almost midnight.

A/N: welp, this is longer than my usual. Yeah this is part 2 to a thing that honestly wasn't supposed to be in parts, but new years was banging so you know I had to. Little Thing, if the caterpillar snail confuses you, imagine a motor bike, I tried to word it better: but some things are just not made to make sense. Aso don't judge the gif choice man, desperate times come for desperate measures. I forgot to add tags again 😔

Previous

➷➹➷

For a while, you kept your distance again. Wondering how this all happened. How everything went downhill for you so fast. Now that you have the house to yourself you now have a lot of dead air to think about. (Your dad’s not dead, he just wanted to seek a path in white water rafting. Whatever that means.)

You silently read an old scrapbook, it was your favorite genre and you loved just sitting down and getting to the end. Especially on rainy days like these. Right as you got to the climax there was a knock on the door. Admittedly you aggressively rolled your eyes.

You closed the book and set it aside, who's knocking at this hour? Right before midnight? Your book needs reading! your fish needs walking! You don’t have a fish, you're just irritated, you can’t read your book. As you closed in on the door you stopped. What if it’s an intruder? Or worse, a monster who suddenly gained the sentience to knock! You would never know until-

“Buttercup?” John Dory’s voice shakes through the door, There’s faster knocking. “It's cold out here!”

You've never opened a door so fast in your life.

As soon as John made it inside you glared hard at him. You wanted to scold him but your silent anger was getting nowhere. He was too busy admiring the inside of your home. Then his eyes landed on you.

You breathed heavily, walking over to grab your book and then walking back to him. He gave you the same dumb, doe-eyed look he always does when he's gotten himself in a bit of trouble. You gently slapped the book on his stomach then walked to put it on the shelf. His quiet shocked laugh brought you back to the center.

You pointed for him to sit and quickly made him some hot cocoa perfect for the season. You walked over and sat next to him. Handing him the glass. “Thanks Buttercup. You mean the world to me.” He chugged the hot cocoa, just fast enough to not catch the break in your calmness traded for bashfulness.

When you calm back down, you cross your arms. Your nose flaring and your lip pouting. John looks you in the eyes, his lips pursing as he thought about a good response. “Can you blame me? You have me wrapped around your finger.” He says playfully.

Your eyebrow raises. You don’t flinch or retreat. You narrow your eyes at him. His grin falls as he catches your unwavering worry. “I uh. I just missed you. It’s been a week and I wanted to see you. At least once.” When you didn’t accept that as an answer he got a little frustrated. “I know that isn't a good excuse but what do you want from me? To let the one person I've had close in years just drop out like that?”

Your other eyebrow raised, silently asking if he was okay. Then in a moment you caught his cockiness slip. That's when you knew something was wrong. You leaned forward and looked into his eyes ruffling his hair to gain his attention. His eyes met yours and it didn't take him long to pull out a vinyl. “It's the only way I could talk about my feelings to you without being a coward.” he blushed deeply. You cock your eyebrow again then roll your eyes. You stood up and went to put it on your record player.

(feel free to listen then move on or not listen at all)

As the song plays, you listen to the lyrics, your back to John as you listen to the words. His soft voice played on the track and you could almost hear the sweat dripping from his forehead. You were too focused on the lyrics to even look at him.

Your skin, oh, yeah, your skin and bones.

Turn into something beautiful

You know, you know I love you so

You know I love you so.

Then it clicked. This wasn't him just showing you a brozone song. No, no heaven knows you listened to Brozone’s music and it's nothing like this. This is gentle and soft. Not throw yourself into a dance song, but that's what you wanted to do. Take his hand and gently dance with him.

However, when you realize that's wanted, the song is already over. You took a while to realize it, but what had transpired wasn't platonic. Not anymore. It was the bridge that led two ways. You just had to figure out which was which.

“Yeah-” John’s voice cuts you free from your mind. “It's not much, it's kind of rushed. Is that weird? That you were gone for a week and I realized I…I can't even say it out loud. I'm…interested. In you. I wanted to see if you wanted to see where this was going.”

You turn around finally, your hand covering your mouth and your otheraying across your stomach. You wondered how you probably looked crazy, but you didn't care. At least not until he pointed out what should have been obvious. You were crying.

“Buttercup! I didn't mean, oh shoot I didn't think that I'd- I'm sorry I take it back!” He gently began panicking. The pacing panic. You wiped your face and looked at your hands, sure enough you were crying. You shook your head, unsure how to tell him that you were okay, just moved by the fact he'd write a song for you.

He took that as rejection and frowned. “Yeah. Yeah. I get it. It's okay. I understand.” he was about to turn around when you grabbed his arm. Damning your inability to speak. You looked around for a piece of pen and paper. However, there was nothing. (you were not writing in your precious book.)

You were scrambling, trying to communicate, but you were only tearing up and crying more. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. Your eyes watery and your nose red and puffy. He looked away then looked at you. “I am so confused right now.” JD squeezed your hand in return.

You did the unexpected. In a fit of confused, misguided, and intolerant anger. You grabbed his face and kissed him. Right then and there. When you pulled away your eyes were wide and so were his. You were about to move away when he just pulled you back in for another kiss.

The second kiss is more sweet and dedicated than the first, your hands moving to gently press into his chest. His hands gently held your head and waist as if you were to fall. It made you feel safe.

Then you both pulled away relaxing into your spots across from each other and your face turned beet red again. How dare he need that good of a kisser? you were just proving a point and now you're the one wrapped around his finger. You try to look away but with his hand snugly holding your head, you couldn't physically do so.

In silence, John Dory’s smile grew from a smirk to a dopey grin. You felt a wave of embarrassment pass through you. “Sweet mother of all things Trolly! You never cease to surprise me Buttercup!” he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, spinning you around as you giggled very softly again. He then pulled you in for a hug. “I'm glad you feel the same. You don't know how much it means to me.”

You guys stayed in a hug for a while. He was holding you so tight that it felt like he'd never let go, ever. Then you got an idea. You pulled away first, and that admittedly made him confused. You walked to the record player and played his song again. Offering him your hand.

He laughed, grabbing your hand and pulling you in for a dance. Not a fast dance, just a slow dance, A comfortable dance. Youve never felt so warm and cozy in your life. Maybe your book can wait for a few more hours. You're not in a rush.

⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠

For the next few years you would have a casual relationship. To the point where no one inherently knew you were dating until John would make some sweet comment about you with your back turned.

As you rode gently into your 30s John was right there beside you. Celebrating each birthday, bigger than the last. You were grateful you got stuck with a guy like John, every day was like a gossip story and he'd tell you every fact about Brozone there ever was. You soon became the team’s number-one fan.

That was, until the unexpected happened. John Dory received a message from his brother that he was in danger. Locked in a diamond prison that only the perfect family harmony could save him from.

“So I have to find my brothers, then save Floyd.” He’d proclaim to you. You raised an eyebrow as you picked up his mess in the bus, he'd probably be taking it and if there were any guests you'd want them to be comfortable. “You know…” he turned around to greet you, walking to throw the trash in the bin outside.

You gave him a look, you knew what he was going to say. “You could come with me, meet my brothers? Join in on the adventure?” he’d ask before you shook your head. You gestured outside and then walked up to him to gently kiss his cheek. “Yeah, I get it, but you're still meeting my brothers, I don't know what I'll have to do for that to happen but you will.” he kissed your forehead and got behind the wheel. You let him know you love him then walk out of his bus to not wait any longer.

You walk to the front of the bus and pet the armadillo before stepping back, and waving goodbye. As he left a pit rolled up in your stomach. A worry pit. You felt like you should've gone with him, but you'd only slow him down. So you went inside. Deciding its a good time to catch up on some reading.

⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠

You learned to live with the pit after a while, you used a small messenger creature to send little I love you notes, but you haven't gotten anything in return. It made it worse, and then right as it neared sundown on the second day he was gone, you had had enough. You walked outside. Going to the corner to pull something out of your sleeve that he’d never expect.

⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠

After the show, John was laughing backstage at something Clay said, holding his stomach as him and his brothers all laughed in unison. He was the first to stop laughing, and when he did. He saw his entire family. Laughing together as if it were the holidays. Which is around a troll’s happiest time.

All that was missing was…

JD’s eyes shot up and he placed a hand on your forehead. “Oh shoot, Buttercup! Oh geez-” he looked up dusting himself and pulling his jacket more clothed and preparing to leave when Bruce chimes in.

“Where are you headed, John?” He’d ask. His voice laced with familiar suspicion. The entire room looks at him, as if awaiting the incredible response he'd spew out now. John stuttered quietly. Then leaned on a wall next to him.

“I have a misses I have to get home to thank you very much.”

There was silent, for a whole minute straight until laughter amongst the brothers (except Floyd honestly) rang out. Everyone's eyes briefly snapped to them. Viva slapped Clay’s arm and he went quiet for a second only to start dying laughing again. Branch wiped a tear and crossed his arms. “You? You have a “misses”? you're just full of surprises.”

JD laughs softly, confused, his brothers are laughing “I'm serious, they're perfect. I want you all to meet them so badly, but they stayed to take care of things there.” He crosses his arms tight over his chest, deciding to just smile through the pain.

JD ignored all the mindless snorts and chuckles after that comment, or tried to anyway. He shook his head “ you'll see, I'll introduce them to you guys and I'm gonna be laughing at you guys!” He walks out to the stage to head home that way.

He grumbled slightly, angry that his brothers would doubt him, but could you blame them? They are brothers after all. he's not grumbling for long because the sound of a growling animal snaps him out of his thoughts. Within an instant, something shoots from the dark, surrounding him in a dirt cloud and the sound of a creature going “meeeeeeeeh” like a motorcycle.

John screamed, a comically loud scream. That attracted everyone inside. They all rushed out only to see the scene unfolding before them. “Hey!” Branch was the first to yell. “Leave our brother alone!” the others banded together and got into fighting poses until everything stopped.

The loud noises, fast movements, and it was just silence for ten seconds until emerging from the cloud was a figure with bucket helmet, and sunglasses over the front. The creature they were riding on was some sort of caterpillar snail, similar to a motorbike.

John looked up at the figure and grinned awkwardly. When the person takes off their mask he gasps louder than he's ever gasped before “BUTTERCUP!” He shoots up. Wrapping you in his arms and lifting you high into the air.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his head until he puts you down. You take off your shades and swing your hair a little bit to get rid of the helmet shape. He was so excited to see you he could explode. “You gave me a good scare, I'm sorry I didn't go home right after saving Floyd I just had to catch up with everyone and do a show with them one last time, you had to see the show, in fact, I think someone recorded it, I'll get that to you as fast as possible!”

“Who is that?” Clay asked, a bit too accusingly. You blush and hide behind JD in fear. He crackles and pushes you forward.

He holds you tight as he introduces you by name. “They are my buttercup, my everything. The one who kept me afloat during all my turmoil. The one who-” You slap him in his arm, causing him to laugh. You bow your head to greet them.

Then you all gather around to talk, enjoying meeting the brothers for the first time. Branch is just the definition of sweet and sour, his girlfriend is the whole package everything you'd want in a party planner honestly. Floyd was the perfect sweetheart and Clay was fun to watch with his small misadventures with Viva. Bruce was definitely the one who talked to you the most, asking you genuine questions about why the hell John dory of all people. You answered as modestly as possible, not having an answer at that moment.

Then you caught sight of John wallflowering. You frowned and walked over, leaning on the same wall he was. He smiled at you, his gaze lingering oh yours for a minute before he kissed your cheek gently. You raised a brow. He laughed softly. “That's my girl.” he’d say before wrapping an arm around you lovingly.

End

[runninriot]

written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Day 10

prompt: first kiss | rated: T | cw: underage drinking | tags: Robin, Steve & Eddie are friends, confessions, coming out

“What d’you mean you never had your first kiss?”

Oops. Did he say that out loud? Shit. Eddie knew he should’ve gone easy on the rum. But they’ve been running around town all afternoon to buy Christmas presents for the kids and when they finally made their way back to Steve’s, the idea of having some rum-spiked hot cocoa to warm them up from the inside sounded great. And it was - up until now.

Now, he’s being reminded of the fact that alcohol loosens his tongue, makes him say things he usually would keep to himself.

“Uh, yeah? It’s no big deal.” Eddie tries to play it down, tries to ignore the heat spreading uncomfortably in his cheeks.

“No. Hold up. Eddie, are you really telling me you’ve never kissed anyone? Not once?” Steve’s eyes are huge and Eddie searches for mockery in them, finds only honest confusion.

“Well, Steve. Not everyone starts their slutty era as young as you did,” Robin defends him. Maybe because she can sense how embarrassed Eddie feels. Maybe because she knows something about him that Steve doesn’t.

“Yeah yeah, I know. Keep making fun of me but- I can’t believe it, Eddie. You’re 19 and no one has ever been worthy enough for you to kiss them?”

The way he phrases it makes Eddie’s insides twist into a knot, makes his heart flutter at the notion of Steve actually thinking anyone had ever wanted to kiss him.

Because the truth is that no one has.

“What can I say? Maybe I’m just waiting for the right one.” Eddie laughs, makes it sound like a silly joke to hide the fact that in another universe, the right one would be sitting right next to him. Not in this life, though. He’ll never know what Steve’s lips taste like.

“I’d rather not had my first kiss at all than the one I got. Middle school, Jackson Hughes. Planted one right on me, wet and sloppy. Ugh, guess that’s when I knew I don’t like boys.”

Steve shoots her an alarmed look.

“It’s okay, Steve. He knows,” Robin answers his silent question, obviously referring to Eddie knowing about her being a lesbian.

“Oh. G-good. That’s good.”

“Takes one to know one.” Eddie chokes on a laugh.

FUCK!

Did he really just out himself in front of Steve?

As if his earlier confession hadn’t been enough to throw him off, the look on Steve’s face now is even worse. Not like- he doesn’t look disgusted or anything. More like, surprised. His facial expressions going from confused to… soft? So soft in fact, that Eddie suddenly has a hard time breathing.

“Oookay. That was awkward. Moving on. Who wants another?” Eddie quickly jumps up from the sofa, waving his empty cup at the others, not even waiting for their response before he makes his way to the kitchen.

He needs to do something, needs to get away. Splash some cold water into his face to cool down, sober up. Maybe getting another drink isn’t a good idea, after all.

Eddie braces his hands on the edge of the counter, drops his head down and sighs.

Shitshitshit!

Yeah, nope. He should not get another drink. Not if he doesn’t cut out his own tongue first. He already said too much, already confessed too many things for one evening. What comes next? Telling Steve that he’s hopelessly in love with him?

Over my dead body.

No one needs to know that. Especially not Steve. So, yeah. Definitely no more rum for him. He should probably go home and hide under his blanket until the end of days or at least-

“Eddie?”

He turns around quickly, trying his best to steady himself.

“Are you okay?”

Steve’s eyes are warm and his voice is gentle and Eddie just wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Yeah. Just needed a minute. That was not exactly how I planned on telling you.” Eddie laughs but it sounds strange even to his own ears.

God, you’re pathetic.

The other boy steps closer and Eddie feels like he’s frozen in place. His heart beats like crazy when Steve stops only inches away from him, so close now that Eddie can feel warmth radiating off Steve’s body.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you, too. A-about me.”

Eddie thinks he can feel, hear, and smell the wires in his brain short-circuiting. His mouth drops open, eyes blown wide in disbelief.

What?

“I’m… bi. Apparently.” He shrugs his shoulders and smiles shyly at him.

“Th- that’s. Cool.” Eddie stutters, doesn’t really know what to say when his mind offers nothing he can share.

Steve likes boys? Maybe I have a chance. Maybe he likes me too? Shut up, Munson! He’s so pretty. I want to kiss him so badly...

“And I-“ Steve bites down on his bottom lip as if he’s trying to prevent himself from talking.

“I wanted to tell you for a while that I-“

Eddie knows he’s being delusional but he can’t take it anymore. He needs to know.

“I like you, Steve. A lot. I-“

Steve's whole face lights up and Eddie's head is spinning.

“Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t know how exactly it happens or who starts it but somehow he finds himself glued to Steve’s lips not even a second later - his hands in Steve’s hair, Steve’s hands wrapped around his middle, their bodies pressed against one another so close that he thinks he can feel Steve’s heartbeat in his own chest.

Eddie must’ve died and gone to heaven because he is kissing Steve and Steve is kissing him back and it’s nothing like anything he’s ever felt or tasted before. A tender brush of lips, a hesitant tongue asking silently for permission, Steve’s hot breath on his face, the sweet little noises they both make… it’s like a dream come true.

And yeah. If waiting 19 years got him this - he'd do it all over again.

[thewriterg]

♡︎𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰♡︎

pairing(s): Jess Mariano x gn!reader, Jess Mariano x Gilmore!reader

summary: One of the many things Jess didn’t expect in the ungodly hour of the night was for you to be waking him up out of his sleep about ‘the smell is snow’ when it wasn’t even supposed to even start flurrying for another four weeks.Right?

word count: 680+

warning(s): Jess being grumpy per usual, first snowfall, pet names, kisses and language

A/n:—GIFs; @buffysummers— Me waiting for winter break; 🤨🧐

“Come on wake up, wake up hon you’re missing it” You whisper shouted shaking Jess lightly as he grumbled tossing and turning not even thinking to fully peel his eyes open and look at whatever hell hour of night it was

“Is it sleep because In that case you’d be right” The brunette mumbled into the pillow his head rested on as you rolled your eyes still attempting to shake him awake

“Smell the air, come on smell it.” You threw the covers back from the both of your bodies wrapping you arms under his dragging the boy to his feet

“Smell the air, come on smell it.” You threw the covers back from the both of your bodies wrapping you arms under his dragging the boy to his feet

“It smells cold, No it’s freezing!” Jess objected as soon as he could register what you were doing which made him try and pull the dead weight trick he used to do on cops but it was no use you were to blinded by it to even notice what your boyfriend was trying to pull

“The floor is cold” Now he tried to bargain with you plead to go back to bed but you still didn’t budge as you dragged him slowly to the front door

“God your so obsessed with the cold” You teased mocking the deep growls and groans that came from Jess as you began to hand him thick jacket having not switched over to a big coat yet

“That’s because it’s cold!”

💌💌💌💌

“I’m turning numb. Are my feet still attached to my body or did they snap off coming down the stairs?” The brunette complained as you both walked out into the middle of the empty streets clutching his body in a warm hug as if he were trying to keep himself together from falling apart under the harsh cold airs and winds

“They’re still there.” You sarcastically replied even going as far as to look back as if you were giving him the reassurance they were in fact Still there

“Why are we out here?” Jess could practically hear himself start whining hell he could get on his knees and plead for you to go back into your home if he didn’t already know your answer wasn’t going to change

“Take a Deep breath, yeah I smell snow” You declared as if it was you final decision and there was no turning back and Jess couldn’t look at you anymore crazy than he already was

“What!?”

“It’s coming I always know i can smell it and I’m never wrong” You both stopped abruptly in a random spot as you looked to the sky just waiting for it to finally fall

“It wasn’t in a forecast” Any other time you would have laughed at the thought of Jess sitting and actually watching a news station to get a weather report

“It’s Just my favorite time of the year the whole world changes color. Flakes, flurries, swirls, crystals, whatever form it comes in I’ll take it we go back snow and me we have a beautiful history.”

“I saw two forecasts neither ever mentioned snow cold, but no snow.” The brunette stated filling in the temporary pause of silence in your ranting

“Sleigh rides, ice skating, snowball fights I’ll even take curling and God I hate curling” You smiled brighter than a kid on Christmas morning starting to get a little antsy in your own skin

“Cranston on channel six said it would be dry. Kimmi listing live at five same thing no snow, nothing” Your boyfriend tried reminding you but as if he were talking to a wall he got no avail

“Hot cocoa, toddies, it’s the best time of the year.” It was so damn close you couldn’t practically taste the salt of it on your tongue

“Jimmy Mountain in a cue chopper once said it would be at least four weeks befo—” Jess’s word we’re stuck in his throat as flurries and snowflakes began to fall from the sky around you both

“Cranston and Kimmi are dumb asses.” Jess sighed in defeat wrapping his arm around you and you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face even if you wanted to

“Welcome friends.”

💌💌💌💌

Taglist; @maybankslover

If you ever wanted to me put you on or take you off of a taglist let me know!

[grogusmum]

November: Mourning Moon

A Conversations with Dead People Companion

This one probably does require reading the original fic; you can find it here

FRANKIE MORALES X F!READER with Holly

W/C 1400ish

WARNING: angsty, dead wife, ghost, that's about it.

A/N Welcome to my very late November installment for @yearofcreation2023 (a fantastic notion by @oonajaeadira.)

Frankie climbs the steps of the 400-year-old cemetery, this time with his daughter, Julieta. Snow has been falling for a good twenty minutes, and last night's snow crunches underfoot. It’s not unheard of to have snow in November in the Northeast, even if it’s becoming more rare. It’s been a little more than a year since Frankie’s first visit with Holly. It only takes a moment before she falls into silent step with them. Slipping between them, as they seem to have left space for her, she takes each of their gloved hands in her bare ones.

“I'm so glad to see you, my loves.”

“Holly,” Frankie sighs. “Missed you, babe.”

“Mama!” 

“Oh jellybean, I'm so glad you came," Holly brings her daughter's hand to her cold cheek, then turns to her husband, “You came.”

“Yeah.”

“But not just to say hello.”

“Yeah,” Frankie looks at his wife, looking just as she did in life. This isn't going to be easy. “I've- I-”

Holly smiles, right up to her eyes -

“You've met someone.”

Frankie just gives a tight smile, she always makes things easier, he should have remembered.  His eyes go bright, and he rubs his face with his free hand. 

“Darling, that's truly wonderful. You deserve it, Frankie. And you deserve a mama.”

“I only have one mama, but I like her,” Julieta says. 

as they reach the top of Burial Hill the wind kicks up, snow swirling unable to decide which way is down. They are alone, no dog walkers, no couples taking in the view. It's beautiful but cold.

“We just wanted to tell you that. I don’t know, I couldn't just… not without your blessing.”

“You know my answer,” Holly says, giving Frankie a chilly kiss on the cheek, he shivers and smiles. “Tell me all about her.” 

Frankie tells Holly where you are from, what you do… how he feels when he's with you. Julieta shares stories of the first time you came to her soccer game, and how you make the best hot chocolate- with a quick apology, meaning no offense to Holly’s cocoa. To which Holly gifts them with the hearty laugh they love so well. 

“You aren't offending me, jellybean, it comes from a box!  But watch out, I hear the Swiss Miss gets migh-ty jealous!”

“We told her all about you. She wants to come and visit,” Julieta says, swinging Holly's arm as they walk and hold hands.

Holly looks at Frankie, then at Julieta-

“Me me? Or my -” Holly nods at the white gravestone a few paces away. 

“I told her I talk to you a lot, and about that time last fall…” 

“You did?”

“Yeah, and she wasn't weirded out at all. She doesn't expect you to come to her- make yourself um… known. She just wants to put a wreath on your grave, pay her respects.”

You sat in the little coffee place on the main street, mindlessly stirring your tea, watching the windows for Frankie and Julieta. The wreath you made of blue spruce, juniper berries, pine cones, and of course, holly, a wide white grosgrain ribbon tied in a single fluffy bow sits on the seat next to you. You don't expect to see Holly. No. But you figure she'll hear you… you thought about all the things you wanted to tell her, trying to imagine being at the receiving end of it. As if you are the one who lost her life, the love of her life, and the apple of her eye… you close your eyes, a small tear slips down. 

Are you being weird? Performative? 

Just then you see the two most important people to come into your life, saving you from spiraling.

They wave. Frankie gives Julieta some money and kisses her head, then comes to your table while his daughter goes to the counter. He kisses your forehead and sits, “Jules is ordering us a warm-up. It's freezing up the hill. The wind.”

You nod, and another sneaky tear rolls down.

“Hey,” Frankie's brows knit together, “are you- did something happen?”

Frankie looks around for the culprit. You huff a smile at his protectiveness. You found yourself a bulldog, complete with soft, sad brown eyes, who loves his belly rubbed.

“I'm just- it's an emotional day. I guess.”

“I guess it is,” Frankie nods.

After hot chocolate and coffee (and the cookie the size of Jules' face), everyone is warmed up and bundles up to climb back up the hill.

Holly keeps her distance this time, watching the three of you reach the crest of the hill. Frankie puts his hand on your lower back, guiding you on the snow-covered brick path toward Holly’s stone. Holly pines for that hand, warm and solid on the small of her back, just one more time. Pearly tears spill over. She isn't jealous, well, that's not true. Holly is envious of you; she's just not angry with you. She feels swindled, but not by you. You are again bringing joy to her husband and child, love and care that Holly can not provide anymore. She's grateful for you, just incredibly sad for herself. 

Holly pops over to the stone, their destination, and continues observing you. You have kind eyes, carrying a rueful smile. At least now it is, understandably, but Holly can see the shadow of crinkles around your eyes and laugh lines. You have a lovely wreath. If Holly had to picking one out of a million for herself, she would have chosen that one. 

You look at Jules and kiss her brown curls; they look at Frankie like you're looking for some help. He gives your hand a squeeze.

“It's a beautiful stone,” you murmur. Frankie puts a little rod, like a shepherd's hook, in the ground before it. Since it’s so early in the season, the ground isn't frozen hard despite the snow. Then, you hang the wreath on it. 

“Thank you for your family,” you say, and then cringe a little; Frankie kneels next to you, taking your hand in his. He nods.

“I'm…” you look at them with pleading eyes.

Julieta takes your other hand and introduces you. You kiss a thank you on her temple.

“I just wanted to come and give my respects, to um, tell you that I love your husband, and your kid here is a delight. By the photos all over the house, I can see she is the perfect combination of the two of you. I just wanted t-to assure you that they will be cared for, I hope nearly so well as when they were with you. Because, I can see your love everywhere in that house. The nursery room mural you painted full belly pregnant with Jules here, Frankie's shown me photos of your gardens. And the recipe book you put together b-before… everything, so Frankie could make all his and Julieta’s favorites. I can't replace you, of course, no one can. But I hope - well, I just-”

You look up at the white stone, your knees cold in the snow but your face hot, trying to find the words.

Holly moves to stand behind the headstone, looking down at your worried face, and puts out her hand. You blink. A graceful hand suddenly appears before her stone, right between the carved words wife and mother. Your eyes slowly follow the wrist, then arm, to the face of Holly Morales. 

After a small gasp, you take her outstretched hand and stand. Frankie and Jules slowly follow.

“Thank you for loving my family,” Holly says, placing her other hand over yours. You can feel the seeping cold through your glove, but you feel no reason to shiver. Her eyes are so full of love and gratitude and grace. “I am entrusting them in your care.”

“I do,” you say, “I mean, am, I will love and care for them with all my heart.”

“and let them care for you, and love you,” Holly so wisely adds.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“I will.”

Holly looks at Jules, hand grazing her cheek. Her eyes travel to Frankie's, his tears falling freely. Unnoticed, the snow had stopped falling, and sunshine fought its way past the clouds.  Only noticed now when a shaft brightened the hill, causing a swirl of snow caught on the wind to sparkle like diamonds. And in that shimmer of snow and light, Holly is gone.

Frankie presses a kiss to your temple.

“She likes you.”

THANKS FOR READING! 💚

Year of Creation: the Wheel of the Year Masterlist

MAIN MASTERLIST

If you care to be tagged for any of my works, my taglist form can be found here! I've added my Year of Themed Creations Series

[enviedear]

Can I also rent black swan with either scream and/or halloweentown ilsm <3

of course!!! also you picked two of the best spookytime movies, your mind >>>

join spookfest... if you dare !

SCREAM | you're totally watching this with BENJI. like sorry he's kind of the perfect man to watch scream with. i guarantee by the third time ghostface speaks, benji is repeating the lines. turning to you with that cute and crazed look—eerily good at mimicking the on-screen villain.

HALLOWEENTOWN | sorry not sorry but no one would appreciate this movie like JACAERYS VELARYON. he's going to make cookies and hot cocoa because halloween doesn't have to be scary. he prefers it when it's cozy. will look over at least once when the movies on just to mention how cute of a name marnie is. yes he does want to name his child after halloweentown take this hc from my cold dead hands.

[roguelioness]

fables from the field

Day 9 - Lend an ear

[written for ffxivwrite2024]

Rating: T Words: 1236 Pairing: none

“I can never understand how you people tolerate such weather,” Alyzen complains as she settles on the ground next to the beautiful marble headstone. “So much for always watching over the city. You can barely see Ishgard with all this snow.”

As though right on cue, the snowfall slows, and gradually comes to a stop, the clouds clearing up just enough for the city, with all its towers and spires, to come into sharp focus.  She shakes her head. “Must you prove me wrong at every turn, my friend?” she teases, but the ache in her heart is as heavy as lead.

She sits in silence by Haurchefant’s grave for several minutes, watching as the day grows darker and the city turns its lights on. The sun is but an orange blur in the horizon; before long it has gone to slumber, and the first of the night’s jewels gleam in the sky.

“I met Francel on the way here,” she remarks. “It was nice seeing him again. I have not had the chance to visit Stephanivien yet, I should stop by the manufactory soon…” she trails off. “Aymeric has been elected temporary leader in place of the archbishop,” she starts again, rubbing her chilled hands together. “And his first act in office was to join the Eorzean alliance.” Her gaze turns distant, a small, melancholic smile lifting the corners of her mouth. ‘Though I suspect you must already know that. And must be unsurprised by the announcement. You always did have faith in him-” a sob tries to work its way out, but she forces it down. 

It takes a few seconds to regain her composure, but when she does, she continues. “The ceremony was… she tries to search for the right words. “Well attended.And quite moving. You would have enjoyed it; everyone smiled and cheered, and there was so much hope in the air…” Her tone turns bitter. “You should have been there. You should have had a chance to see what Ishgard will grow into, you should have been there to guide the people along their new path.” Rising in volume, her anger causes Espoir, the sensitive bird he is, to move to her side and coo softly at her. “You should have been there to celebrate with me! To- to- to be my friend, damn you! Where was my cup of hot cocoa when I returned to Ishgard, Haurchefant?” Her tears, barely restrained, flow freely. “Why could you not have just pushed me aside? Why did you have to take the blow meant for me? Why, Haurchefant?” 

She wipes haphazardly at her face; her damp skin freezes in the blustery wind. “I ask Hydaelyn why she took you, but I get no reply. I ask why Ysayle had to give her life, and she remains silent. And now, when Estinien is-” the words seize on her tongue; she has been so filled with terror over his fate she cannot bring herself to say them out loud.

But Haurchefant has always heard her secrets and her fears, and this too she shall share with him. “Estinien is- taken. By Nidhogg. And-” her mouth and chin tremble; she has to grit her jaw to calm herself. “It is my fault. I should not have left him hold both the Eyes, especially when I knew that he had been struggling with Nidhogg’s influence. But we slew him,” she murmurs to herself, “we slew him in the heart of his lair, how could we have known his soul yet lingered?”

Alyzen falls into a troubled silence. Espoir settles down next to her, his weight a comfort pressed against her side. His presence, much like his former master, warms her up in the cold evening. He chirrups as a gust of wind ruffles his feathers, shaking them out elegantly before tucking his wings close to his body. She can’t help but smile; he is so endearingly loveable. 

Attempting to organize her thoughts, she recalls all she has experienced. There have been many revelations and she has not had the time to process any of it. Only now does it strike her that Lahabrea, the ascian who very nearly killed her, is dead. That his accomplice is dead. 

That she has slain yet another primal.

What are you, Thordan’s dying words reverberate in her head. 

The archbishop did not know. Could not have known. She has not breathed a word of what she’s done – what she’s become – to anyone; she did not think any of her companions could understand. But here, in the frozen Coerthan air, Haurchefant’s tomb serves as her confessional. 

“When I was Ul’dah to rescue Raubahn,” she begins haltingly, playing with the edges of her tunic’s sleeve, “I met a woman. She was quite strange, Drusilla. She gave me a soul crystal – a reaper’s soul crystal, she said, and that I would have to…” she clears her throat and stares up at the sky. “That I would have to forge a pact with… with the avatar within.” Exhaling, she starts to stroke Espoir’s feathers. “The avatar was a voidsent. Becoming a reaper, she said, would grant me great power – but I had to make a pact with the voidsent.” She smiles when Espoir coos contentedly as she scratches the top of his head. 

“I refused, of course. Voidsent are dangerous creatures; only a fool would choose to join their essence to one. Althyk preserve me, I had every intention of forgetting about… but then Zephirin killed you,” there’s so much rage in her tone, “he killed you and I could not stop him. I’ve fought primals and garleans and the Twelve-damned Ultima weapon and won, but I couldn’t stop him. I was- I felt so weak. So powerless. I am no healer, Haurchefant, it is… I have not the capacity to practice the white magicks, but fighting? That I can do. And yet, when it mattered the most, I failed.”

She takes a deep breath. Espoir senses her change in mood, and lightly butts his head against hers, making a soft, concerned chirp. “So I decided I would not be powerless. I would have my vengeance against Zephirin, against Charibert, against every one of the Heaven’s Ward, and on that blighted, voidspun bastard of an archbishop. I used the crystal. I called forth the avatar. And I forged a covenant with it.” Raising her chin, she adds defiantly, “I do not regret it. I slew every last one of them, watched as their bodies were eaten away and they turned into dust. I ground the dust of Thordan’s body beneath my boot and cursed him to damnation, and I would do it all over. And yet,” her shoulders slump, and she leans against Espoir. “Why do I not feel better? I have had my vengeance. I should rejoice. Instead, I am… empty, Haurchefant. I have killed Thordan and his Knights, but doing so has not brought you back. It has not brought Ysayle back. Estinien…” her throat clogs as she thinks of what has become of him, as she wonders where he is and if he is yet alive.

A soft breeze washes across her, lifting the ends of her hair, carrying with it the scent of chocolate. 

Though her eyes fill with tears, Alyzen smiles.  “I hear you, my friend,” she whispers, pressing her lips to the top of the cenotaph. “Thank you.”

[justaaveragereader]

All I Wanted Was You Part:1

Summary🖤: You and San had been together for 5 years…..he proposed to you during your fourth year of being together. Through all the rain and dirt you've stuck beside him. He admits to you a couple months later after proposing to you that he recently just fell in love with you. Those words never leave your mind…well what happens when you admit to him that you are slowly start to fall out of love with him? Will he be able to save the relationship or will it be over?

Genre🖤: Angst

Warning🖤: Cursing, Suggestive, Parent Death, Depression, Anxiety, All The Sad Angsty Stuff You Can Think Of, Based Around A Female Reader

Word Count🖤: 2.1k

A/N🖤: The taglist to this series is open! If you want to be added just shoot me a ask or message me.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“Well how did that make you feel…?”

Rubbing your fingers over your temple, clearly uncomfortable by the situation. Why were you even here? How was this supposed to help? Was this going to help?

“I’m..i'm not too sure how to feel? I feel..void? Missing? Lost?…if that makes any sense. I’m not even too sure honestly what I’m doing here..I think I’m just going to go.”

Gathering your stray items you move to stand up, placing the warm mug of hot cocoa down. Your therapist holds up her hand signaling you to stop and relax.

“Please…it’s only your second session. It’s normal to feel this way. I won’t force you to stay but I would enjoy it if you at least stayed for the full appointment. Give it a chance..”

Your hands are pooling with sweat, clearly uncomfortable, you nod your head lowering yourself back into the seat. Biting your inner lip, riddled with nerves.

“I’m sorry for the outburst…it’s just I’m not too sure what I’m supposed to be doing, where I’m heading, where I’m supposed to head…”

Letting out a defeated sigh, you look at the bookcase in front of you, not wanting to look at your therapist looking back at you.

“It’s just overwhelming is all..”

You say with a slight shrug in your shoulders.

“Well…want to tell me when you feel like it all started..?”

Nodding your head, letting you know that you understood what she wanted of you, taking in a deep breath, exhaling.

“It started in February….I woke up out of my sleep…”

“Hello? Can you still hear me? Y/n? Y/n?”

Clearing your throat to hold back your emotions. Biting your lip you sit up in bed. It was now one o’clock in the morning. You were trying to process the words as they came out of your aunt who you hadn’t spoken to in years. You never had a relationship with your father, hell, you never even met the man. You yearned for what could’ve been, what should’ve been. Wrapping up the phone call rather quickly you say your goodbyes, body in complete shock.

“Who was that?”

Staring blankly in front of you, almost missing the words that danced out of your boyfriends mouth.

“My aunt…from my dads side of the family.”

San sits up, the covers scrunching around his lower stomach.

“What did she say?”

“My father, he’s dead.”

You remained stone cold, the calm before the storm. How could you cry? Your anger wouldn’t let you feel for a stranger in that moment. Your mind ran on a billion miles per hour normally, the calmness that was taking over you was unsettling. You throw San a tight lipped smile, laying back down on your side of the bed, trying to find a comfortable position so you could continue what you were doing before you got the call, sleeping.

San didn’t even move a inch to comfort you, feeling like your tight lipped smile was enough to speak on your inner true emotions. With a slight nod, laying back down. The uneasiness in your heart is alarming but if you don’t pay attention to it, it goes away, right…? Right…

It was a restless night, you tossed and turned. You couldn’t find a comfortable position to get in. How were you supposed to rest when you had a billion things on your mind? Things were finally going well, not just for your relationship, but for your life. You hadn’t spoken to your mother in quite sometime feeling it was best to end the toxicity while you still had time. So used to being a puppet on strings, now that you were free you didn’t know how to move, how to maneuver, how to do anything, spent so long being told who and what you were, this new found sliver of freedom was bizzare to you.

Staring at your white ceiling you didn’t even dare to try to fall back asleep, it was useless at this point. The sun was now fully risen, smiling brightly at you, while all you wanted to do was spit at it. Grabbing your phone to check the time, deciding it was well enough time to get up and ready for the day.

Moving slowly, daring not to wake San, gathering some clothes to get into the shower. You wanted to isolate yourself for once in your life you truly wanted to be alone. Alone with yourself, alone with your thoughts, just plain ol alone. As you cut on the shower, letting the water warm up in the cool bathroom, you sat on the lid of your toilet, your brain was like shuffling a deck of cards, your mind was a motion picture at full speed. You slowly started this slip out of reality, eyes growing semi big you stared at the towel rack in front of you.

What would life have been like if you had a father? Did he have other kids? What was his favorite color? What did he smell like..? Did he ever think of you…? Because you thought of him, numerous times. You can’t even recall how many times you started a “Dear John” letter just for your dad. You didn’t care if he wanted a relationship with you, you just wanted him to know how you turned out, what you turned out to be in life. What your favorite color was, how you hated certain foods because of the texture. What were you supposed to do now? Half your identity was missing. So lost in thought you didn’t even hear the bathroom door open.

“Y/n…? Y/n..?!”

San lightly shakes your shoulder, snapping you out of your mind. Before your eyes can even look up at him you plaster a smile on your face, you spent so long smiling in life, even when you didn’t want to, your body naturally does it on command. Eyes finally lifting up, you look at San giving him a smile. His sleep gaze is looking down at you, with slight worry on his face.

“I'm sorry bae, were you calling me?”

You say through a smile, eyes closing with how big you are smiling. He nods his head slowly, hair sticking up in all different directions.

“You okay?”

He says through a yawn, arms stretching in the air, trying to loosen up his body for the day. Nodding your head slightly, tossing him a quick smile again before looking at the towel rack again. Knowing you’d have to pull it together, fast.

“I’m fine, just a little tired is all, didn’t sleep much last night.”

Letting out a hum, he runs his hands over his face. Grabbing his toothbrush out of the cupboard, currently in the swing of his morning routine, realizing you still have errands to run today. You begin to peel your clothes off, getting ready to step into the hot water that has been running for who knows how long.

San doesn’t even spare a glance your way. That is when you should’ve known you started to feel it, you had knew all along but love…love makes you do crazy things, makes you see what you want to see.

Stepping under the hot water, it beats down on your skin slightly stinging, yet you endure the pain, wanting to feel something, anything. You wanted to feel pain so you could feel like you had a solid reason to cry so you could feel like you weren’t wasting your tears on some stranger, on a man you never knew, or never knew you. If you had died would he have cried? Your mind is set off in warfare, a fight which you never had any hand in.

Your armor was slowly cracking, you weren’t sure what to do. You held everything to yourself never once wanting to disturb San, how could he understand? He knew his father, his father loved him, his mother loved him. You were troubled, always had been, always will be. You were nothing but damaged while San was pristine. You had spent so many nights trying to make him understand how sometimes your depression clouded your mind, yet how could you explain something to someone who would never fully understand unless they walked in the same shoes. Telling it, and living it were two different things.

San cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts again.

“Im sorry…what was that? I think I got some water in my ear and didn’t quite hear you.”

You said with a slight chuckle at the end of your sentence to hopefully cushion the blow.

“I said, are you still going to get the humidifier today? The air is so dry in this house , I think I can feel my skin crying for moisture at night.”

Letting out a small hum, your fingers are tingling, nodding your head even though he can’t see you, causing you to speak up.

“Yup I’m going to grab it today! I already have errands to run anyways, I’m going to wrap up my shower and run out and grab it. It's been so dry these last couple of nights, my nose bleeds at times!”

San let’s put a low chuckle, putting his skin care back, making his way out of the bathroom.

“Sounds good!”

Before you can even tell him you love him he shuts the door, the cool breeze from the door closing slightly blows the shower curtain, causing your body to shiver from the chill.

“So what happened after that?”

Your leg was now jumping up and down, trying your best to calm your nerves, you were still staring fully at the bookcase. Refusing to make eye contact.

“I ran my errands, and went to get the humidifier, than I came home.”

You shrug slightly while finishing your sentence. Your therapist clearly knew you were leaving our details to the story. Sighing she puts down her clipboard.

“I never want to force you to tell me anything or make you open up, but I know you are skipping over a couple of things…would you like to talk about them? Or we can skip them if they make you feel uncomfortable.”

You had not even known this lady a full month yet she could read you like a book. Your throat feels dry again, scratching at you with uneasiness, you pick up your mug sipping down a few sips of the liquid trying to soothe your throat. Twiddling your fingers against your thigh.

“When I got back in my car…I cried…”

Out of your side view you can see your therapist nodding.

“I got into my parking garage after picking up the humidifier and just…I broke down…I cried in the parking garage for twenty minutes straight. I sobbed…then I gathered myself because I realized San would be texting me soon asking where I was…and I wiped my tears and headed up to our apartment.”

There he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his headset on, calling out to Wooyoung. Biting your lip you quickly round the corner to the bathroom trying to compose yourself, you are stronger, right? You are supposed to be able to beat anything, right? You are showing nothing but weakness right now.

Biting your lip you decide to enter the bedroom wanting to set the humidifier up. San doesn’t even spare you a look, too busy being wrapped up in his game. You could hear it, the sound of your mask cracking even more. Deciding to bite the bullet you slowly approach San, you had been together almost four years soon yet big topics like your feelings always made you want to vomit.

“Bae…”

You say while tapping his shoulder lightly, he doesn’t respond. Mentally you are yelling at yourself, wanting to retreat, wanting to move away, wanting to be held and comforted at the same time. Poking him slightly causing his shoulder to move forward, still not grabbing his attention, your eyes slowly start to get misty.

“San..”

Not turning around he removes one ear piece off.

“Bae…as soon as I’m done I will set up the humidifier don’t you worry.”

Putting his ear piece back on, continuing to yell at Wooyoung. You bite your lip, this is when you realize you are slowly turning invisible. Had he not known you..? Had you been bothering him..? Dare he even look at you..? Thoughts plague your mind again, yet you know you have to put on a brave face because the only person who is going to pull you out of this slump, is yourself. This is when it should’ve started, when you should’ve realized it.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

A/N: I’m posting this chapter super late, but better late than never. Immediately chapter one is already in the feels. There will be hints of fluff but the genre is angsty angst. This is just fiction for a brief reminder none of these chapters or any of my writing reflects on how I view any of the members! As for the posting schedule I’m still figuring that out bc I’m in my last class of the semester and that mf is kicking my ass.

DO NOT REPOST.

[charcadett]

What's up! How you doing today? I hope it's going great for you but can I request something? I had a dream where I was basically just in the middle of nowhere and it was like snowing while only wearing my PJs and I didn't really react much like the cold never bothered me (Elsa). So I was thinking Grusha with a S/O who goes out even with her PJS on despite the weather being cold as hell and you could freeze to death but then S/O is just there smiling as if the harsh wind isn't blowing through her entire body and Grusha is just there watching. The rest is up to you I thought it was just a cute thought! Or idea. You can call me Anura!

Hi Anura! I hope you’re doing well too! This is really cool, I definitely went a little bit of a medical anomaly direction rather than a one time thing. I get my best ideas in dreams, honestly, so I’m glad you asked!

The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway (Grusha)

- You’ve always had a resistance to the cold. Even during the most frigid of winters, you would go outside in just shorts and a shirt without a single repercussion. You didn’t shiver, you didn’t get goosebumps- the snow felt akin to a cool sprinkler on a hot summer day, if anything at all. Every doctor you saw was baffled, but ultimately considered it a good thing. You were safe from frostbite and hypothermia, even in the most brutal conditions.

- Whenever you find it hard to catch your thoughts, the cold always seems to jerk you back to reality. It’s something you’ve always found refreshing, though you understand others may find it unsettling. This is why you tend to wait until the dead of night to right yourself. You’ve been dating Grusha for a while. Long enough to move in with him. The mountains are freezing, just how you like it. Most nights, you lie out in a snow bank and stare up at the stars. The light pollution hardly reaches, so it’s gorgeous. A tapestry of lights and galaxies. Grusha is also a heavy sleeper. You don’t want to worry him, and you know your nightime ritual would worry him, so you’ve tried to keep it to yourself. Inevitably, he catches you.

- It’s a blizzard. Maybe not your best choice, but you needed to reset yourself more than anything. You slip out of bed in only your pajamas, don’t bother with shoes, and breathe deeply as soon as you’re out the door. Your lungs pleasantly burn as ice crystals form on your eyelashes. Lost in thought, you don’t hear the door open behind you until Grusha’s hands are pulling you back inside.

- “What were you doing out there?” He’s rubbing his hands over every inch of open skin to rub warmth back into you. Grusha’s mouth drops open when he feels you hardly have a chill. “How long were you out there?”

- “Not long,” You say. An embarrassed blush covers your face as Grusha fixes you with an adminishing glare. You let him scold you for a few minutes. It’s sweet, though you can’t help a few fond eyerolls. You appreciate knowing he loves you enough to worry like this. Once he’s done, you explain everything.

- After a long winded explanation, all Grusha can manage is: “Wow.”

- He believes you, though he wants to be absolutely sure you’re safe. At his behest, you get a second opinion from a doctor, and Grusha feels a lot better knowing you are one hundred percent safe. If he’s awake during your excursions outside, he’ll keep an eye on you from the window in case you collapse. When you look, he ducks behind a curtain. Everytime you come inside, he wraps you up in a blanket and hands you a cup of hot cocoa. No matter how strange your temperature regulation may be, there’s no stopping Grusha from taking care of you.

[spooniechef]

Poorman's Ice Cream (0 spoons)

If you're anything like me, you've noticed how godsawful expensive things have got lately. When budgeting for food, it's harder and harder to justify treats. The thing is, treats are kind of necessary. I mean, if nothing else, living with only the bare essentials is a sure-fire route to depression - or existing depression getting worse. No one can just ... survive like that. Believe me, I've tried - it did not go well.

That leaves making one's own treats, and that has its own costs. Some are the financial, depending on how well your kitchen is equipped and if there are any speciality ingredients needed in your treat of choice, but mostly the costs are time and effort. For a spoonie, something quick and easy is really important. That generally leaves out ice cream, since it tends to take a lot of churning and ice cream machines are not exactly a staple household item.

B Dylan Hollis to the rescue! Back in August, his TikTok featured a neat little recipe from an unnamed "dead lady" for a three-ingredient ice cream 'substitute' that turned out remarkably well. And all the equipment you need is a hand mixer.

Here's what you'll need:

1 can evaporated milk

1 1/2 cups powdered sugar

Dash of vanilla extract (see notes)

The comments are full of people flagging up how you could add other flavours to your ice cream - everything from a teaspoon of cocoa powder or some chocolate syrup for chocolate to a teaspoon of instant espresso powder for coffee to a dash of mint extract and some chocolate chips for mint chocolate chip. One option I intend to try is to keep the vanilla but add egg-free chocolate chip cookie dough (because salmonella is no one's friend) from a recipe like this one from Flippin' Delicious. Given that this one doesn't require xanthan gum, you can probably use regular flour in it if you can tolerate gluten. Also, if you want hot chocolate ice cream (which is a different beast from chocolate ice cream altogether), you can probably add some home-made instant hot chocolate mix, though you probably want to reduce the powdered sugar in the main recipe to a half-cup since so much of the hot chocolate mix is powdered sugar anyway.

Here's what you do:

Take your can of evaporated milk and a mid-sized bowl (glass is best) and store it in the fridge overnight

Put all ingredients in the bowl and whip until smooth and foamy; put it in the freezer for an hour or so

Whip again until smooth with a soft-serve consistency; either eat as is or put it back in the freezer for a few hours to set

Now, there are a few notes, because a lot depends on your fridge and freezer. For example, my fridge isn't hugely efficient, so I put my bowl into the freezer for an extra half-hour before I started, because starting with a cold bowl is important. I also had to take a fairly broad definition of "or so" when waiting for it to set a bit the first time; if it doesn't have the soft-serve consistency you want after the first hour, whip it anyway, put it back in the freezer for another hour, and then whip again. Obviously an electric hand mixer is essential to making this a zero-spoon recipe.

However you manage it, the result is a really smooth ice cream. Now, for the vegans among us, vegan evaporated milk is hard to find in a tin but can actually be made. Though I'd recommend that those of us who don't tolerate lactose well just stock up on the Lactaid because making vegan evaporated milk requires simmering oat milk for two hours.

[imaproperstranger]

Hi,

I started this blog, because I feel like I'm depressed.

That is "unhappy and without hope" as Cambrige Dictionary puts it.

The state of sadness is definetely longer than 2 weeks, I'd say.

If I'm not mistaken, it's been over 5 years (plus a few weeks).

I may return to this and explain the thing I believe to be the cause of my emotional state. Of course there was a break more or less through the year 2021, because I just read books all the time in hope to escape reality and finally acomplish something. And I did. But 2022 came with new disappointments, lost "friend(s)?" and not enogh will to read so many books again.

I would like to add a few words about myself as an introduction, but I don't think I know mysef well enough to be able to do it this instant.

So I'll just write down some things that I like in no particular order: - cold (it's been way too hot recently) - tea (I'm going to take a sip right now) - jigsaw puzzles (today I started doing one I wanted to for a few years now, but the last time I gave up after putting only a little bit together) - books (their smell, feeling them in my hands, flipping through the pages and sometimes reading) -cocoa (recently mainly because of The Amelia Project; you MUST check it out or I'm going to throw USB sticks with it at you and run away) - podcasts (I know it's pretty unexpected; yesterday I discovered I Am In Eskew and I love the vibes; the depressed and ominous vibes that is) - music (at the moment I'm listening to Dr. Sunshine Is Dead; as I said, the depressed vibes; recently I also listen a lot to AlicebanD) (sip) - idk, not sweating? it's way too hot for this time of day - old Hitchcock movies ( so far I've seen in this particular order: 1. Strangers On A Train (1951) (yes, because of The Amelia Project) 2. Rope (1948) (it's great; to sum up: be gay do crime) 3. Rear Window (1954) ( I really like the way it's filmed, I almost felt like I was one of the tennants of the building)

and after I'm finished with this I'm going to finish watching "Dial M for Murder (1954)" ( I started yesterday and stopped at Intermission; I wonder how he's going to frame his wife, I'm not smart enough to figure it out only from what I've seen so far)

It's funny that all the Hitchcocks films I've seen so far can be connected by starring actors/actress: 1&2 Farley Granger 2&3 James Stewart 3&4 Grace Kelly - Dirt Poor Robins (great band, and Queen Of The Night is increadible, I'm just listening to Komm Jesu rembering what happens in the movie)

- you made it so far?

♠♣♦Congratulations♦♣♠

Anyway, I think that's it for now. I'm going to watch "Dial M..." after tagging this post.

Ciao

PS: Yes, the blog's name comes from that The Guess Who song in case you were wondering.

[mapleleavesart]

Oh You’re Warm Blooded? Great, Welcome to Being My Personal Heat Pack

Mikey x Yokai OC (Mei)

Word Count: 2258

Content warnings: fluff, a freezing cold-blooded turtle, kissing, fluff, cuddling, Mikey's hands get placed over/around Mei's stomach/waist cause he feels like a corpse, concerns about mental health/ implied depression, do any of these really need to be warned about? Probably not but imma state it anyways

Was going outside in the dead of winter a bad idea? Yeah, probably. The four turtle brothers only ever went out for snow days in the first few weeks of cold, snowy weather, just enough to get a taste before holing up inside and brumating for the worst of NYC’s winter. Even when they did leave, all of them had several jackets on. And they were only out for a few hours at a time, lest they start slowing down and go into brumation early. Did they have to huddle together under the heat lamp for hours afterwards to recover? Yep. Did Mikey tell anyone he was leaving?

… Well, he told Pops and Draxum he was going out (they were sharing a pot of tea; nobody else was to be seen). They told him to put on an extra jacket, stay safe, don’t be too long or go too far, etc. Parental fretting. You know how it is.

 Did Mikey leave the lair anyways, simply because he wanted to see his most favorite person ever?

Also yeah.

The Hidden City didn’t get snow. Natural snow, that is. Sometimes the witches from Witch Town cast weather spells to mimic the surface’s weather, or for certain festivities. Not today, thankfully. That didn’t make the underground cavern any less cold though. 

Mikey shivered. His right hand was tucked into his coat pocket while the other held steaming-hot cocoa, he had a beanie on his head, and nearly every piece of winter clothing he had in his closet on. His breath lingered in the air like he was a fog machine

But Mei was enjoying herself, so he wouldn’t say anything.

“Ooh~ sparkly.” Speak of.

Mikey stopped to look at the store window the Qilin was looking through. Many pieces of jewelry were on display, all beautiful in their own ways. Kinda like people. “Something catch your eye?” He asked.

“Well, obviously, otherwise I wouldn't have stopped and gone ‘ooh, sparkly!’” Mei retorted with an eyeroll and small snort . Her lavender scales glinted in the cold light. It was mesmerizing. He forced his gaze away and back to the display. 

“Anything worth taking a closer look at?” He asked. Sure, girls typically loved jewelry and sometimes impulse-bought pretty things, but Mei was pretty good at thinking things through.

Mei gave a small hum. “No. They’re pretty to look at, but I don’t need any more,” she decided. She turned from the shop window and continued walking. Mikey followed. Mei took a sip of her drink- hot cider of some kind. Her muted orange turtleneck sweater hung off her frame, loose and thick and soft-looking and probably very huggable. Thick, beige pants that most certainly were fleece-lined were plaid-striped with various shades of coffee with various amounts of creamer. The pastel colors made her teal eyes really pop.  “So, conversations,” Mei started, knocking him out of his thoughts of ‘i’m cold but she’s beautiful i don't want to leave but i’m freezing down here, holy shell-’

“Mhmm?”

“How are you doing? Mentally, I mean,” she added as an afterthought.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Mikey answered, giving her a small smile.

“You sure?” She tilted her head at him, voice and eyes softening. “You’ve been awfully quiet today. You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I’m not majoring in psychology without good reason,”

Oh. Had she really noticed his quietness? Was it that obvious?

“Oh, I’m not- no, I mean-” Mikey took a deep breath to calm his flustered heart. He focused on the soft clip-clop of Mei’s hooves. “Yes. I know you’re here for me if I need to talk. No, it’s not that. I’m good, really, it’s just…” Mikey shrugged, “...cold.”

“Cold,” Mei repeated. She looked around the street. Most Yokai were still inside, but a few were out and about, hurrying from one destination to another. “Not… sad, bored, upset, or exhausted?”

Mikey hummed his agreement, taking another sip of his sweet hot chocolate. “And it has nothing to do with you, I swear,” he added oh-so-helpfully.

Her head tilted the other way. He spared a glance at her. How was she not cold? The tips of her ears looked paler than normal. Her eyes flicked up and down his body. Her scaled eyebrows furrowed. “But you’re dressed up in, like, ten more layers than I am. How are that cold? How’s that work?”

The question wasn’t demeaning or rude, just genuine and curious and worried  and without harm.

Mikey turned his face up towards where the sky was supposed to be. “Cold blood," he shrugged. "You know how it is."

Mei stopped again. This time to stare at him like he grew a second head. "No, I don't," she blinked. Then held a hand up, palm forward, "wait, backtrack, you're cold blooded?" 

Mikey also stopped and also stared. The realization smacked him in the face. "You're not!?"

"You are?!"

"I'm a reptile, of course I'm cold blooded! How are you not?"

"Most Yokai are warm blooded! I never would have asked you to come out in the cold if I had known!" She made her cup float and reached for him. "Show me your hands,"

Mikey obliged, taking his hand out of his pocket and resting it on one of hers. She lifted it closer to her snout and turned it supination- palm up.

“Spirits, your fingers are almost blue! Why didn’t you say anything?” Mei demanded in an oddly motherly tone, wrapping her own hands around his. Her hands were so warm… no wonder she wasn’t as cold as he was.

“You were enjoying yourself… I didn’t want to ruin it!”

“You could’ve said something!” She shot back, tone now creeping toward concern. “This is very worrying! We can go shopping some other time, we could’ve stayed inside! I don’t want you to just- I don’t know, drop to the floor in brumation like you’re dead or something,” she rubbed his hand as if trying to get his blood flowing again. Because that would help.

“Sorry,” Mikey apologized. “But I didn’t want you to feel bad for accommodating me. I want to spend time with you. I wanted to make you happy, ‘cause when you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Mei let out a little whimper-like noise, or perhaps it was a coo? “Mikey…” her expression couldn’t land on an emotion. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped when Mikey shivered again, and she stopped herself. “Here, let’s get out of the middle of the walkway.” Mei didn’t let go of his hand and dragged him over to a nearby bench. Her cider followed her in the air. She sat down, her long tail curled to outline the spot next to her, and tugged him down next to her.

Mikey of course obeyed, because who was he to deny her?

Mei wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. Her tail plopped itself into his lap, a comforting, heavy weight. Mikey could feel a tug on his mug- his previously only source of heat- as Mei’s magic pulled it out of his hand. It watched it go up to hover alongside hers. “You’d better not mix those up, hot cocoa is sacred,”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Should I ask Shangti to come pick us up? I’m sure he won’t mind taking us - well, you - back to the manor. Or I could carry you back. Or levitate us back-”

“Shangti have a car or s’mthing?”

“... a what?”

“Carrying it is then.”

~~~

Ten minutes later and they were drifting down from the air. The Tian Manor stood below them, seated on a cliff overlooking the rest of the Hidden City. He’d never been inside before- at least, outside of the times where he snuck onto Mei’s bedroom balcony just to see her, back when they were still a secret.

The building itself was almost 100 feet tall with three floors and ionic columns made of white marble marching up the sides. The walls were made of dark green stone- malachite, if he remembered from Mei’s history ramble- with a marble-like swirl pattern within it. They went through the front doors, through a mud room, and entered a huge foyer. They went under the landing of the two giant staircases circling the foyer.

“You have such a pretty house…” Mikey murmured, his voice muffled from his nose being tucked into his jacket and pressed against Mei’s front from the way he was being princess-carried.

“Glad you think so. Hopefully you’ll be ‘round here more often from now on. You know, when you decide against freezing to death.”

“Oh, please, it’s not that cold. At worst my heart stops beating for a while and I go comatose for a few days.”

He was promptly dropped onto a couch. “Sorry. What?”

“Box turtle thing,” Mikey exclaimed, making himself comfortable against the armrest. Mei disappeared from his sight, presumably to find some blankets or something. Their cups still floated in the air.

The mutant took the chance to examine whatever room he was in. The couch faced something that looked like it might be the Yokai version of a TV. Closer to him was a coffee table a shade lighter than the dark red-brown leather of the couch. Underneath the screen was a fireplace. Over to his left was something akin to a pool table.

“Game room?” He guessed.

“Hm? Oh, I suppose you could call it that. We call it the den,” Mei replied, popping back into sight with a bundle of rich, emerald green throw blankets. She helped him wrap himself up comfortably until it felt like he couldn’t move. Then she helped him free his arms so he could drink his now-room-temperature chocolate.

Mei, the solution to all of his problems today, crouched down by the fireplace and cast a small fireball spell. The hearth bursted into dancing yellow flames. His cocoa was once again torn from his grip and went to hover by the fire to reheat it. 

Mei sat down next to his blanket burrito and took his hands. “You feel like a corpse,” she noted.

“Happens to the best of us,” he replied with a small smile. She gave him a look before scooting closer. She took his hands and pressed them against her sides, under her sweater and against her scaly skin. Her elbows tucked against his hands to keep them in place.

Mikey’s eyes widened. Holy shell she was so warm. Is this what warm blooded creatures felt like all the time?!

He felt Mei’s muscles stiffen. He glanced up at her face to see it scrunched up, probably in effort not to recoil from his undoubtedly cold hands. He was pretty sure he was making a weird face too.

“What, never touched a corpse before?” Mikey tried to joke. It was Mei’s turn to shiver. Mikey was pretty sure he was blushing, if that was even possible.

“Miguel,” the yokai scolded. “Enough with the death jokes. They’re not funny.”

To you, he thought. Out loud, he apologized. “Sorry. Leo must be rubbing off on me.”

Mei huffed. Mikey shifted how his hands were positioned. It could've been ten seconds or a minute or an hour before he managed to compose himself enough to mumble, "your scales are soft,"

"... Thanks."

Mei didn't meet his gaze, but her cheeks were darker than they were supposed to be.

"What, I can't compliment my gorgeous girlfriend?"

Mei's face darkened further. It was adorable. "You warm yet?" She asked to avoid the question.

"Hm… mostly. My lips are still a little cold," he started, blinking up at her innocently, "care to help me with that?"

Oh, if only he could record the look she gave him. It made him want to giggle like they were fifteen all over again. So he did. And in the process of that, he pulled Mei by her waist so the Yokai flopped into him with a strangled yelp of surprise.

"ACK- Mikey!" She complained, wiggling against his hold. But alas, he was a building-thrower and the most Mei worked out was when she practiced her archery. Within a second Mikey had one arm wrapped firmly around her torso, pressing her against him now. Mei quickly gave up and lay limp against his plastron. Her tail flopped around clumsily behind her.

Mikey pulled out his most charming grin. "Can I get my daily dose of kisses now, my love?"

All of Mei's muscles melted with her annoyance. Her face and gaze softened into something adoring. Her hands moved to rest against Mikey's chest. Mikey moved his hand to rest against her warm cheek in turn. 

She sighed dramatically. "Oh, if I must." 

Then she leaned forward and pressed a gentle, warm, long kiss on his lips. It left his green skin tingling. "You're such a dork." All of the love in the world was stored in her voice. Mikey could feel his tail beginning to wag from its confines.

"Yeah. But I'm your dork, aren't I?"

"Yeah," she pecked his lips again.

And so they stayed like that, cuddling and trading sweet kisses, until the two fell asleep, until the sun reached its peak, and until a dark teal Qilin adjusted their blankets and answered the texts blowing up Michaelangelo's phone. They stayed like that as Shangti reassured the little box turtle's worried family that he was okay, that the Titans would take care of him, and that the two would return as soon as they awoke.

And so, they stayed.