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Ok, Ginger is a manipulative b*#!h and Remy is a bit of a turd. (pardon my French) An off topic question I've been meaning to ask. A recurring mannerism/affectation I see in your stories is the 'playing with a person's hair.' Is there any particular reason/story for that? Ever curious...

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I'm glad everyone is liking the story!  Hopefully I can get another chapter up today but it's a busy weekend. ;_;

As for the hair thing.  I think it's just a really intimate gesture.  I mean, I have a lot of anxiety about my hair so maybe I'm alone in this, but usually people don't touch my hair.  At least without my express permission.  To just reach up and play with my hair, or twirl it or ruffle it without asking, is a right granted only to my closest friends and romantic partner.  It also sort of makes me feel little because who doesn't play with kids' hair? :lol: And it feels nice and you feel close to somebody and... maybe I'm putting too much weight in hair playing? :blush: Personally speaking, it has always been a show of intimacy and closeness, and in a little sense, safety and comfort.  So I guess that leaks into my stories. *nods*

But I can't account for @Pudding's reasons!  So hopefully she'll answer this question too!

~Sophie

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1 hour ago, 'Lil Wendi said:

Ok, Ginger is a manipulative b*#!h and Remy is a bit of a turd. (pardon my French) An off topic question I've been meaning to ask. A recurring mannerism/affectation I see in your stories is the 'playing with a person's hair.' Is there any particular reason/story for that? Ever curious...

I think it's just one of those things I find very... mmm... diminishing? Like I don't use the terms masculine and feminine, but in context, it's very D and s, you know? The one with the power playing with the one they're empowered over's hair, playful, petting, maybe ready to grab a handful and pull them to heel? ^^

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9 minutes ago, Pudding said:

I think it's just one of those things I find very... mmm... diminishing? Like I don't use the terms masculine and feminine, but in context, it's very D and s, you know? The one with the power playing with the one they're empowered over's hair, playful, petting, maybe ready to grab a handful and pull them to heel? ^^

I think I like Sophie's explanation better. Sorry Pudding. :unsure:

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I'm baaaack. Finally picking up on this story after starting, stopping etc. I didn't think I'd like this because the gradual infantilization thing doesn't generally interest me. I should know better than judge any of your stories based on such thoughts. 

"We think very differently.  I think that's why our writing is so interesting."  You laugh, but it's true!  While Wannatripbaby likes your (Sophie's) reasoning over Pudding's, I love the reasoning each of you gave. Yes, that's what makes the stories so interesting. 

So "Ok, Ginger is a manipulative b*#!h and Remy is a bit of a turd." ...***and actually I think even less of each of them, but at least that's a start. It's pretty well figured out what's going to be happening to Frosty/Wednesday/Wendy as it's already begun to happen. Still, the joy of the story is going to be how it happens, how the characters develop and change, and oh yeah, what the actual conclusion will be.

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16.)

I only worked Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Tuesday I cleaned the house.  Thursday I made plans for the weekend - picked out what movie I wanted to see, tried to figure out what to wear during our weekly night together.  Friday, though, was different.  Friday I had to be awake at eleven and be into work by noon.  I was having a lovely dream and my phone alarm only played into it.  It auto-slept after two minutes of ringing, and it wasn't until after 11:30 that it finally woke me up.  I sat up and immediately knew something was wrong.  Ten minutes before noon, Ginger's phone rang. "Hey... I... uh... I can't come in today..."

"Is something wrong?" It was only really a matter of time before things stepped up a gear for Wendy, but Ginger played it calmly on the phone. "You know you can tell me anything at all, Wendy, what's the matter? Do you need me to come over? I'm not that busy, I can come over for a little bit and Make Things Better for you?"

I hesitated on the other line and nervously shifted from foot to foot.  I'd finally gotten all my clothes and bedsheets into the washing machine.  I was humiliated.  I didn't want anyone to know... "I... n-no, I'm okay... I just forgot I have some chores I have to finish, and... and I can work an extra day next week if you want?  I'm sorry, I don't mean to be such short notice."

"Wendy, you're hiding something from me. It's alright, you know? I'm not cross with you, it's just important that you're honest with me, even if the truth seems scary. I won't be cross.  Honesty is always the best policy when it comes to friendships, don't you think? Let me Make Things Better. Let Gingie help."

I felt my bottom lip quiver.  Fresh tears filled up my eyes.  I didn't know what to do.  I hadn't wet the bed in years.  Not since I was five or six years old.  And now I was getting married!  I was twenty-two!  I fumbled for my words. "I... w-well I just... g-gotta finish up some stuff, I promise I'm okay.  I'm okay..." She couldn't know.  No one could ever know. "S-see you for dinner maybe?" She always came for dinner on Fridays.

"I'll come over." It was a statement of fact and not a question, just like saying 'the sun will rise', mostly. "I'll come over and Make Things Better. I'll see you soon." Ginger hung up the phone and leaned back on her chair with a little smile. So. It was finally happening? Honestly, Wendy had taken so much longer to start truly responding than her fiancé had. But no matter, things were going pretty much as planned!

When I opened the front door, it was nearly 12:30.  My hair was still wet from the shower and the washing machine was running quietly in the background, but the spare sheets were on the bed and everything was cleaned up and taken care of.  I felt stupid.  I'd over-reacted.  It was just one accident.  I was just glad Remy wasn't home.  Ginger smiled down at me and I waved her in. "I'm really alright now.  I just woke up late and I remembered I had so much to do.  You didn't have to leave work for me."

"You're worth taking care of, Wendy." As she turned away, Ginger put her hand on her cheek and leaned down to kiss her forehead again. "Sometimes things happen that you're shy about, but that's what best friends are for, right?" She had a bag in her hand; a little ornate tea set from her office. "I'm going to make us tea, and we can sit and relax.  That sounds good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, alright." I still wasn't a huge fan of tea, but Ginger seemed to really like the stuff.  Probably from all of her time over in England.  I finished tidying the kitchen while she got the tea set up and then I took a seat on the sofa.  I sighed and looked out the window.  It was a beautiful October day.

As always, Ginger handed one particular teacup to Wendy and made sure to keep the other for herself. When Wendy had asked about it midweek, Ginger had explained that she made hers sweeter because Americans tended to not like the taste of tea, so it was important to keep them distinct from one another. Which was a workable explanation. "Don't worry, you'll get used to tea in time. In just takes a little while, Wendums."

Wendums?  I gave her a sharp look, but it fell flat.  She'd been calling me cute names the whole week.  She'd been kissing my forehead and hugging me.  I knew it was all because she had a crush on me, and... well, it wasn't annoying.  I thought it was sort of endearing, actually.  So I let it slide.  I took a sip of my tea. "You sure you can pull yourself away from work at this time of day?" "It's Friday - we aren't doing much." I pouted. "Remy always works late Fridays..." Though last week he was off work on time.

"Well we work on a lot of different projects. We share a few, too, but he has a much bigger workload than I do because he's trying to save money for your future.  And also because he wants that promotion when it becomes available, so he wants to be noticed." Previously, the two of them would have sat opposite one another on different sofas. Today, they sat adjacent, and Ginger ran her hand up and down Wendy’s back while she drank her tea. "How have things been with Jeremy, by the way? How have you two been?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "He's busy a lot, but it's fine." Without thinking, I leaned into her, almost resting my head on her shoulder.  This sort of behavior had become normal over the past week.  And so what if it fed her affections?  I wasn't gay anyway. "We have our date tomorrow.  Movie and ice cream." And sex.  Last week we hadn't made it to the last part, but this week I was very much ready.

"Oh, you must be excited for that? I know how much you love him, so it must be exciting to think about that. A movie he wants to see, and letting him order you ice-cream, and well... you know the rest, I'm sure." Ginger was sure, too, because she knew for a fact that Wendy knew the rest. She'd made sure that she did. "Do you have something cute to wear? You know, Jeremy told me that he's always hoped you'd wear... oh, nevermind, I shouldn't gossip."

I blinked.  Something I should wear?  I remembered last time, with my cute bra and panties.  He rebuffed me so easily.  I knew my sexy clothes were a little outdated, truth be told, but if I bought more it would just set our wedding back further and further.  But now there was an opportunity of something to make him happy?  I perked up. "No, no, wait.  What does he want?"

Ginger bit her lip and grinned and looked away coyly. "Alright, but you have to promise not to tell him I told you, alright?" Eagerly, Wendy nodded. "He wants you to wear gingham. It's this dream he had like... two years ago, and he's too shy to bring it up to you because he thinks you'll just shoot him down. But we were at the store over lunch last week and they had this mint green gingham dress and when he saw it, I could tell he was just imagining you wearing it."

"Gingham...?" I tried to figure out what that was, but nothing came to mind.  I reached for my phone but Ginger beat me to it.  She typed something in and flashed me a picture.  Oh.  It looked like a school-girl uniform.  I smiled shyly to myself. "Okay, I can see how that would be sexy..." It was a pretty common fantasy, right?

"Here let me show you the dress we saw." It was a few more seconds before Ginger turned the phone back around and showed off the mint green dress, just the picture loaded, fullscreen. "I bet it would make him so happy to see you in that, and you -know- how stressful his job is. And now that you have a little bit of your own income, it could be a surprise too."

"...is it expensive?" "Not really." The dressed looked particularly silly.  It had a collar around the neck with rounded corners and I thought it looked like something a private school elementary kid would wear.  But if it made Remy happy... then Remy would make me happy!  And I really needed it. "Mm... I guess a surprise would be pretty cute.”

"Do you feel up to coming to the store with me now? We could go get it, and you could try it on with me so we can make sure it looks as cute on you as it should, then you can surprise him with it tomorrow?" Marriage counseling: Ginger style.

"Alright!  Let's do it!" I smiled widely up at Ginger.  A week ago, I hated her.  Now we were going shopping together!  Maybe it was a good thing I had her on my side - she knew the ins and outs of people, didn't she?  Wasn't that what a therapist was for?  And she obviously could read Remy's mind, though I could too if he was ever around.  A new dress.  That would really get everything back to normal, I was sure of it!  The memories of the accident this morning were put behind me as we walked out the front door.
 

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Hi guys!  First and foremost, thank you for all the comments.  They keep us going. :lol: 

Secondly, Small Frosty will be finished and available in PDF/ePub on Patreon on the 14th for $5 supporters as a Valentine's Day treat!  There will be more Frosty content after this, but we are wrapping up the first real story arc.  Additionally, we might write a small intermission between Frosty Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 that is Patreon exclusive! :o 

We'll also have a collection of brand new Valentines-focused captions available on the 14th. ^_^  No better time to subscribe! 

Thanks for your continued support both financially and motivationally!  You guys are amazing and I'm so happy to have this community!

~Sophie

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7 minutes ago, Wannatripbaby said:

There! I Liked that chapter! :)

... which means I won't be able to Like the chapters you put up today...........

 

Sophie and I had a discussion one day ....  about Robbing Peter to Pay Paul.  There's really no need to feel guilt or unnecessary angst on Point Giving, although I do it myself.  It is what is is.

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8 minutes ago, ELLIE52 said:

Sophie and I had a discussion one day ....  about Robbing Peter to Pay Paul.  There's really no need to feel guilt or unnecessary angst on Point Giving, although I do it myself.  It is what is is.

I know. I was just being silly. :P

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17.)

It wasn't a regular store that had the dress; it was a speciality store with more of an adult-tinge to it than Ginger had let on. Adjacent to the risque-lingerie ensembles either side of it, and the walls of sex toys, the dress seemed so... out of place. So innocent! Like it needed to be rescued from this sinful place and draped over Wendys body. "What do you think?"

"...y-yeah, I guess it's cute..." The store obviously made me uncomfortable, that much was obvious.  Ginger would reach around and pat my shoulder or pull me into a short hug every now and again, but it didn't help long-term.  The truth of the matter: sex was normal.  Sex wasn't weird!  But I'd never needed vibrating penises to fulfill an orgasm.  I'd only  masturbated a few times when I was much, much younger.  And then there were toys called "anal beads" and I just wanted to get out as soon as possible.  I kept my eyes on my feet while I walked, nervous and embarrassed.

"You're so cute when you're shy~" Ginger praised in sing-song with a little smile. "It's like you've never been in a place like this before!" And the silence filled in that gap. "Wait, you've never been in a sex store before? Well, wait, where did you get your vibrator?" Because Ginger assumed with absolute certainty that Wendy must have owned one of those.

I looked up at her with scarlet cheeks and an obvious pout.  I wanted to leave!  I wanted to get the stupid dress and I wanted to leave!  But now that I was here, now that I knew where the dress came from, I didn't even want it anymore. "I don't need a..." I wouldn't say the word and I felt color flood my cheeks.  I swear, I could be the light bulb for this store! "I have Remy."

"Not always you don't, he's busy with work a lot and he has less time to spend making love, doesn't he? So if you owned a vibrator, you could take care of yourself during the week and make date night with Jeremy all about tending to his needs. Doesn't that make sense?" Ginger had the dress in her arms, and she'd even front up the cash for it, too, just to get Wendy wearing it.

"I don’t need one," I said quietly, under my breath.  It wasn't that I really wanted to talk sex-stuff with Ginger in the middle of an adult store, but it didn't sound like she was going to let it go. "I think sex is supposed to be equal... we both get what we want out of it and neither of us have to do anything by ourselves." But this conversation was getting to be too much for me.  I played with my fingers in front of me and shied into myself.  I wanted to get out of here...

"How about you wait outside, I'll take care of this, okay? I'm really proud of you for doing your best and coming in with me, Wendums." Hand on cheek. Kiss on forehead. And a new addition; encouraging swat on the behind, to send her on her way. Ginger was absolutely going to get the girl a vibrator.

I waited outside the store - or rather, the store next door - and looked at my feet.  I was so embarrassed.  I couldn't believe I had to go in a place like that!  I went from wetting the bed that morning to buying a slutty dress from a sex shop.  Of course, the dress didn't seem that slutty.  And I hadn't even given Ginger my purse.  When Ginger finally came out of the store, I climbed into the passenger seat without saying a word.

"This is an innocent dress. You rescued it from a naughty place." Ginger put the dress in the girl’s lap for her to hold, tucking the plastic bag with the other purchase onto the backseat discretely. "It's just hard to find gingham in the US, because its more of a British-slash-old-world thing. Jeremy is going to be thrilled to see you in that."

"If you say so," I mumbled, sinking further into the seat.  By the time we got back to my house, it was already late in the afternoon and I needed to start getting dinner ready.  Then I got a phone call just as Ginger was starting to get her things together.  "You are?  But I was making dinner..." I waited. "But Ginger's here you know?  I thought the three of us--" I sighed and nodded my head "Right, I understand... love you." And then I hung up.  Great...

"Has he been kept late again?" Ginger pouted, emulating the dismay in her little project, and wrapping an arm around her lower back reassuringly with a squeeze. "I'm sorry, Wendygirl, you know he can't help it when that happens. Maybe you and I can just have dinner tonight? A girls’ night in, right?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, shuffling my feet on the tile.  I really missed Remy.  But I remembered tomorrow - our date day.  A movie, ice cream, and now that new gingham dress.  I took a deep breath.  Things would be alright - I just had to be patient.  I put on some fresh chicken breast and went to the dryer, taking out my sheets and tumbling them into my laundry hamper.  A night with Ginger instead, huh?  We did have a pretty fun afternoon together.

"Try it on! Come on, I know you want to, and if it's not a good fit this gives us time for me to take it in or exchange it.” That was a trait that Ginger had - she was very good at making a point, very good at coercing people, and very good at getting exactly what it was that she wanted. "You can take it straight off, but I wanna see you in it." The gingham dress, of course.

I looked at the dress on the hanger, my laundry hamper on my hip.  Well, it couldn't hurt, right?  I still thought it looked rather silly, though. "Alright, hold on.  I'll be right back." And it was like Ginger said - if it didn't fit she could fix it or return it.  I went into my bedroom and folded the laundry first, putting my now-dry pajama pants in the drawer and putting the bedsheets in the linen closet.  By the time I came back out, dressed like a young schoolgirl from a TV sitocom, it was fifteen minutes later. "You sure this is sexy?  It doesn't feel sexy."

Ginger clapped her hands with a little grin, giggling a little bit in her upper-class-accented way, and her smile spread further from ear to ear. "It's not about being sexy, it's about building on your strengths, Wendy, and this is what your man wants you to wear.  So you need to build on that." She looked super cute, and about 12 years old too. It was enticing in its own way, a kind of corrupting-the-innocent kinda thing, maybe?

"I feel like a kid," I pouted. "Nonsense," she told me, and stood up to fuss over my dress.  It definitely didn't help me feel less like a kid, let me say.  Finally, she dubbed the whole purchase a success. "Can I change now?" It wasn't that outfit was uncomfortable - I'd just never be caught debt in it outside.  

Asking permission was a new thing, and it made Ginger smile to see it happening in real time, especially when she'd been at the receiving end of some hostilities only a week ago. She nodded with a warm smile and thought for a moment. "You could wear one of your nightgowns, you have really cute hips and look best in nightgowns.  And that way if Jeremy comes home early, you'll be at your cutest. Make certain to hang up your dress."

I hung the dress in the back of my closet, something to surprise Remy for tomorrow, and pulled on one of my nightgowns.  Usually I only wore nighties in the summer, but recently I found myself wearing them a little more frequently.  The sun was already on its way down, so it didn't feel weird that I was in my pajamas at seven in the evening.  That was just October.  When I got back out into the living room, Ginger was already setting up a movie on the TV.

It was a start contrast between the defiant young firecracker that she'd been before, and the pleasant and obedient girl she was now - this was probably why men got their wives lobotomies back in the 50's, Ginger thought idly to herself with a little grin. Well, she wasn't quite so barbaric, this was far more of a kindness. "I'm glad we're friends now, Wendy, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I suppose." "Come now, let's watch a movie.  I will put some popcorn in the microwave." "I can do it." "Nonsense." And like that, I was sitting on the sofa with a blanket over my lap and Ginger was organizing dinner.  It started with popcorn, then it turned into ordering pizza.  To think, none of this would have happened if I'd gone into work today.

That evening gave Ginger some amazing ideas; getting this kind of hands-on contact with her project was going to set things forward in motion by an order of magnitude. Like the fact that Wendy could so easily be affectionate, given the right directions. Ginger wanted her to be affectionate, she wanted her to cuddle up on the sofa. Or the fact she bit the tip of her thumb when watching the movie, Ginger could so easily manipulate that into a nervous tick, and then into a habit, and then into... well. Tonight, when she went home eventually, Ginger was going to have a lot of recording to do...
 

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It's hard when the main character shares your beliefs about something (in this case, sex being equal) and everyone else in the story convinces them they're wrong. :(

Ginger buying Wendy a vibrator, eh? I sense Pudding's hand in this. ;)

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YOU SHOULD BECAUSE THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED! :lol:

On the topic of "Likes", they aren't that important to me.  I have a far-off dream of having the highest reputation on DD (I've been here almost ten years now o_o) but it's not like.  That big a deal.  It's just a personal goal. ^_^  The way I see it, if my stories get me that high up, I must have brought people a lot of happiness!  (Right now I'm in fourth, for the record! :o )

Okay another chapter coming soon.  Promise.

~Sophie

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13 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

 I have a far-off dream of having the highest reputation on DD (I've been here almost ten years now o_o) but it's not like.  That big a deal.  It's just a personal goal. ^_^  The way I see it, if my stories get me that high up, I must have brought people a lot of happiness!  (Right now I'm in fourth, for the record! :o )

I just looked at the monthly Leaderboards and......... HOW AM I AHEAD OF YOU?!?!?!? Seriously, is there something about the ranking system that I don't understand?

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10 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

 And you write stories too.

Yeah, but I've only written like, 2 chapters this past month whereas...

... Wait. You're familiar with my work? *Gasp* have you read Angel Hunter? 

:19_EmoticonsHDcom:

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Sorry, but I haven't. :blush:  For an ABDL writer, I read very, very few stories on here.  I'm just easily distracted so I start reading and I forget about it.  I have to have a really quiet environment to read even a normal book.  But I promise, if I'm ever looking to pick one up, I'll check yours out first. ^_^ 

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18.)

I fell asleep on the sofa again, but it wasn't Ginger that woke me up.  Remy hovered over me with a sigh and moved my bangs out of my face. "What did I tell you about sleeping on the couch?" he asked.  I smiled sleepily and raised my arms. "Carry me?" It was early in the morning, but my fears were sated.  I'd spent most of my night with Ginger.  He wasn't cheating on me.  Especially not with the woman who had a crush on me.

I noticed two things when I picked up my fiancée. The first was that she clung to me like a child, and put her head on my shoulder, almost falling asleep before I'd even gotten my balance with her weight in my arms. And the second was that she'd wet herself, that there was a dark patch on the sofa, and that her behind was damp and clammy. I felt like a proper reaction would have been annoyance, maybe. We'd have a fight, things would be bad for a while, we'd be distant until we weren't. What I actually felt, though, was.... satisfaction. She needed me, she needed to be taken care of. "Come on, let's get you ready for bed, Little Frosty..."

I didn't even notice.  My fiancé picked me up and put me against his hip and helped me into the bedroom.  But when he started to strip me of my nightgown, I sat up in confusion.  If he wanted sex, that was fine.  I was eager, after two long weeks without.  But he never wanted to do that stuff after work.  I rubbed my eyes. "What?  What's up?" When he reached for my panties next, I slapped his hands and shoved him away. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"You had an accident, baby.  Don't worry I'm gonna get you changed and in bed and I'll be back to lay with you before you know it." I found myself using tones I didn't recognize - warm, sincere, and loving tones - the way I imagined I might have spoken to my children should we ever had had them.

"I... what?" And sure enough, though the nightgown had been removed from me, the wet panties hadn't.  They were damp.  Damp like... I thought about this morning.  About the bedsheets I'd had to wash.  I shook my head.  I was dreaming.  I was, right?  I had to be? "I didn't... I spilled something.  Lemme up..." I pushed him away and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I didn’t know why she was being so difficult; this wasn’t a big deal. I should have stopped to consider why I thought this wasn’t a big deal, perhaps, but I was more concerned about Wednesday in that moment. ”I’ll take care of the sofa, my angel, don’t be too long in there.”

I showered.  I had to.  I'd already showered earlier that day, but... I didn't know what else to do.  I didn't know what to even say!  How was I supposed to explain this?  What would Remy think of me?  I crossed my arms over my chest and stayed under the warm water for as long as it took to run cold.  It was one accident.  He didn't have to know about the other one.  I had some wine before going to bed.  It wouldn't happen again.  That's what I'd say.

"Quiet." I could see that look in her eyes, that little pout of petulance, my little Frosty ready to make an excuse, to provide answers to questions unasked. I put my finger to her lips, then followed with a kiss. "It's taken care of, there's no need to talk about it, it's late. Let's get into bed."

I looked up at him with a bit of awe and followed him quietly into the bedroom.  I should have talked about it anyway, but honestly... who wants to talk about wetting the bed?  Actually, Remy was being... well, pretty damn sweet.  So I changed into a fresh nightgown and climbed into bed with my almost-husband.  We didn't talk about it.  the next day, through the movie, when we went for ice cream, we still didn't talk about it.  I actually started to forget. "Vanilla with sprinkles please," I asked the woman through the window.

It might have been the end of it, if she hadn't asked for a lemonade as well - when she did, I piped up with 'small, please' as an addendum to her order. Like a parent. Also like somebody concerned about her having wet the bed, perhaps. Thusly, she was sour when we sat down to enjoy our ice-cream. "Whats on your mind, Little Frosty?"

"Nothing." "You're lying." "I can order my own food." I was sour, sure.  I was irritated.  He was doing that thing where he treated me like a kid.  And after last night, I was especially sensitive... not to mention the children's movie we watched.  That was the third kid movie in a row.

"You've been really good recently, Wednesday. I'm really proud of you. Don't you feel like we're closer now than we've been in a long time? You've been fun and playful, and less stressed, and that makes me look forward to coming home in the evening. You like that, don't you?" I wasn't so much asking her that she liked it, though - I was reminding her that she did.

"...I guess." "Then you shouldn't cause trouble.  Everything is going well." I hated to admit it, but it really was.  Ever since I recognized Ginger wasn't trying to steal Remy away from me, it felt like... well, like everything was falling into place.  I let out a sigh and nodded.  I was picking fights.  There wasn't any reason for it. "Come on, I'm not that hungry.  Let's go home." Sex.  That would make me feel like an adult again.  That's what I needed.
 

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