#I gotta make a salad today
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Lowkey mad this is like a slice of my life atm (I got like a million other things planned that I’ll probably never do but would still appreciate being able to allot the needed brainpower for ‘em), but at the same time…
I spend so much time in a bubble of the darkest, despressingest solitude that I don’t draw enough silly (everybody else seems to have the corner market on that) and neither do I do enough…oooooohhh leeeeeewwwwd shit. Also because, it’s everywhere else already. But it’s not…MY brand. My braaaand.
I can still just make and enjoy. My brand.
Somebody take my Switch from me. Don’t actually. Haven’t finished Tears of the Kingdom yet and I still gotta get back to Kirby. Whew shit~
#wip#sketch#cool hwips in progress#do I actually post these when I am done?#I don’t know lol#I am almost 40 fucking years old#I shouldn’t be ohhhhj uguuuu I am being the naughty hobo#uwooooohhhmmm#I gotta make a salad today
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Hiked almost 4 miles much at a steep incline/decline and my legs are jelly but it was gorgeous and I very much enjoyed it
#I'm also really glad my bro was patient with me#he used to get very... annoyed when i would have to slow down or stop for a break#but he's been much more patient since our road trip in California#i think it's bc i snapped at him and explained that my meds make me overheat very easily#but i really appreciate it because i love hiking and i really enjoy hiking with him#I'm just slow and also fat and i overheat easily#i was super curious about just how many calories i burned so i know how much i need to eat at lunch#according to my weight height the incline what i was carrying the speed we were going and distance i burned over 2000 calories#which is insane to me#i gotta eat a lot today *nod nod*#I'm getting a tasty borger and fries!#and a salad too bc veggies are important#i feel great though#i love hiking#it's one of my fav things to do#odt
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cold pasta and warm toasty buttery bread my beloved 🥖🥖
#yesterday it was hot and i wanted caprese pasta salad but i didnt want to make it. gotta have the pasta done earlier. so today i made it!!#and of course it got colder again. sigh. but i got my tasty pasta and tomatoes and mozzarella (although def use fresh mozz. tastes better#i just didnt have it on hand) and then i toasted a nice piece of italian bread with OF COURSE butter and garlic salt and AAAAAA THE TASTES
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Got real depressed and frustrated today but throwing myself in the wet box helped a little
It's been a really long week
#like. from last wednesday to today i mean. the last 7ish days#tim is on my tummy making biscuits right now. that helps a bit too#hubby and i made a nice salad with porkchops for dinner. that helps a bit#gotta keep thinking of the little things that keep me going#mod post#mental illness#mental health#got i hope people know what the fuck i'm talking about. the wet box post. yeah#shower
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Diet Diaries
Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam
Monday March 21st-
Andy:
I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~
Steve:
Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home.
Tuesday March 22nd-
Andy:
My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.
Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~
Steve:
Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.
Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.
Wednesday March 23rd-
Andrew:
Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!
Steven:
That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.
Thursday March 24th-
Andrew:
Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!
OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!
Steven:
God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it.
It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.
Friday March 25th-
Steven:
Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.
I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..
Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~
Andrew:
Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.
Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)
Saturday March 26th-
Stevie:
Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-
Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass!
I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-
And Drew:
Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.
Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.
Sunday March 27th-
Stevie:
Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~
Drew:
My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.
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we were drunk off mezcal and my dog had his paws crossed like he was fancy and we were giggling about it and i told you that with the sun coming back i can feel my fingers again and you grabbed my wrist and jokingly shook my limp hands while saying i have you i got you and i wanted to tell you i love you in that moment but it's actually just that it's spring and love actually seems like something that i can afford once in a while so long as i'm not overwhelmed by the crushing weight of having to do my laundry
i don't get so sad on sundays anymore and part of that is you but also part of it is that i've been watching a bird melodrama in the tree outside my window - first the robins had the run of it, then the doves. most recently a family of sparrows came through. the sky was pink today like a kiss, and i felt the pastel wrap in a warm piebald snake around my chest and hum herself into my bones
thank god for every person that forgives me for the depressive spirals i go on every winter without-fail like i swear there are absolutes in this world and it's stuff like. stoats go white in winter. the sun comes over the east. when it gets cold all parts of my soul go numb and the light can't pass through my iris without a tattoo gun. how many times can i tell a friend i'm sorry i wasn't talking to you, i truly wasn't talking to anyone
thank god i can feel my skin right now and you hold my weak little hand in your hand and then you flip it over so you can read my palm and you're smiling while you run fingertips over lines and read out my fate like it says here you like a good grillcheese sandwich and admit it you make salads by buying the pre-made spring mix and i have all your astrology shit memorized and i read your horoscope first when i'm checking my own even-though-i-don't-believe-in-it (but just in case) and i want to kiss you just to watch the blush spread in a tulip from under your freckles in that way it does, how you pull back and wrinkle your nose in laughter
thank god but today for the first time in a month i finally texted my friends back and actually made plans to hang out (how's that! barring disaster!) and i let my dog put his big muddy paws on my nice sweater and yeah actually when it's bad i always think i can't do that again. i can't crawl back up that mountain
but the sun touched me on the face this morning and we had a nice long talk about it and i said i gotta go the long way again huh and she nodded and shook back her solarflare hair and looked over to her moon girlfriend and she said you can do it. better things on the horizon.
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Escape Call
Pairing: Tim Bradford x Waitress!reader
Fandom: The Rookie
Summary: When a man asks you for help while working, you decide to make a call that might just end up changing your life.
The restaurant was fairly quiet as you neared the end of your shift. It had been a long one, draining you to your core, but anything that waited for you back home wasn't the definition of relaxing in any way. Your tiring days of dealing with snobby customers usually ended in studying for the many mock exams of med school.
The small bell hanging atop the entrance rang, signaling the arrival of a new set of customers, which you hoped would be the last for the day. It was the man who caught your attention first, dressed impeccably in a suit and tie. He had an expression on his face that you couldn't quite place, but it definitely wasn't happiness. A woman entered behind him and followed him to the table he was seating himself at. Unlike the man, she seemed to be quite happy about being at the restaurant.
Convincing yourself that this would be the last table you would wait for, you walked over to them with a pair of menus and greeted the pair with a warm smile.
“Hey guys, what can I get started for you today?”
“I'll just have a water, thanks.” The man said while flipping his menu closed, never bothering to read any of the items on it.
“Are you sure honey? You're not gonna order anything else?” Not giving him a chance to respond, she continued speaking “Well, I'm gonna get something low carb, maybe something like a salad? Gotta watch my weight, y’know..” She trailed off, eyeing you top to bottom.
You felt appalled by her snide comment, but chose not to offer her anything but a tight lipped smile. You left the table to give the cook her order and started working on his glass of water, silently observing the pair sitting across.
The woman was talking expressively while the man just seemed bored. He looked tired, resting his chin on his palm, barely looking at the rambling woman.
You heard a ding from the kitchen, and placed their orders on a plate, walking over to them. You noticed the man writing something on a tissue and folding it up. You were just about to turn around after serving them when you heard a high pitched cry.
“What is this? There's peanuts in this! I can't eat this! I'm allergic” She yelled at you, eyes wide like you had purposely tried to poison her.
“Ma'am I am so incredibly sorry, I didn't know you were allergic-” You couldn't finish your sentence, interrupted by her bowl of salad smashing the ground. You dropped down quickly to collect the shattered porcelain, glancing at the man. He looked horrified, sending an apologetic glance towards you.
After cleaning up and getting the karen a new salad, you hung out by the counter, trying to subtly observe the pair. You saw the man get up from his seat, saying something about using the men’s room, and walk over towards you. He handed you the folded tissue paper discreetly and walked past you to the restroom. You unravelled the note and saw a phone number:
Save me, Please.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
You watched as he walked back to the table and sat down. You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, He needed an escape call. You fished your phone out of your pockets and dialed the number, watching his phone vibrate on the table. He picked it up, and you waited silently on the other line.
“Hello? Yes this is him…. Mhm……What? Oh my god, I’ll be right there!”
He got up hastily, collecting his wallet and dropping a few bills down to cover the tab, and quickly apologised to the woman before rushing out of the restaurant.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You finished clearing the last of the tables and got your bag to head home. Today had been an eventful day, and the stranger you had seen for no more than an hour, was running on your mind since he left. You bid farewell to the cook and the guy at the register and stepped out into the cool night.
You felt a chill run down your spine, though you weren't sure if it was from the cold or because of the figure leaning against the alley in the dark. You took a step back but heard a familiar voice that made you stop.
“I was wondering when you would be off your shift.” The man spoke, coming into view.
“Escape call.” You said, letting him know that you recognised him.
“Yeah…I was desperate. Never going on a second date with her again.” He concluded.
“Second date? I thought she was your girlfriend. Heard her call you honey so i assumed..” You said as you started to walk alongside him.
“Oh no, just a blind date my colleagues set me up with. I'm Tim by the way. Could I get the name of my rescuer?” He held out his hand, looking at you expectantly. You offered him your name and shook his hand, relishing the softness of his palm.
He repeated your name wistfully, as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. You felt your cheeks redden, even if it was only your name he had said. You could only wish your house was farther away.
You both walked the entire way to your house, conversation flowing easily between you two. You learned that he was a cop, which made sense for no apparent reason. His personality was strong and graceful, drawing you in closer than you ever imagined was possible. You could have talked to him forever if you could, but all good things had to come to an end, just like your walk.
You eventually reached your doorstep and slid your key into the keyhole, careful not to wake up your roommate. you pushed open the door, turning back to face Tim. His eyes refused to leave yours, twinkling with a feeling that you could only describe as longing. Your mouth felt dry as you waited for him to say something. He placed his hand on the door, keeping it open.
“Is there anything I can do to repay you? for being my saviour today?” He asked, eyes darting between your eyes and lips.
You felt a smile spread across your face. Maybe you wouldn't have to say goodbye after all.
✨️
#tim bradford x reader#the rookie#tim bradford#fluff#escape call#the rookie abc#timothy bradford#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#tim bradford imagine#tim bradford x you#timothy bradford fluff#waitress reader#y/n#the rookie f xanfic#tim bradford x fem!reader#the rookie x reader#tim bradford x reader fanfic#tim bradford fic#the rookie fic#tim bradford x y/n#tim bradford fanfiction#tim bradford fluff#blind date
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Call Me Back
Pairing: Ex!Joe Burrow x Black!Actress Reader
Description: This wasn't how your life was supposed to go, but you're glad you have friends that will always be there for you.
Warnings: Angst, Language, Horrible Communication, Toxic Relationships, Cheating, No Happy Endings Today :(
Word Count: 2.4k
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆
“God, I’m so hungry.” You say as soon as the appetizers arrive at the table.
Everything looked so good. “I could down all 6 of those plates right now.” After loading a variety of flavors onto your plate, you take the first bite of actual heaven.
Your friends sit there in total shock, the calls of your name falling on deaf ears. By the time you look up, half of the plate is gone. “Um, when was the last time you ate?” Ariel asks, the girl with red dyed locs only had a single meatball on her plate.
You look around the table and slowly shift in your seat when only one of the five plates had been loaded.
You gulped. “Oh I skipped lunch at work, we were really busy.”
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
6 Hours Earlier
The scene had wrapped early, but lunch was scheduled at 1. As you sat in your trailer, the next 30 minutes felt like hours. You were starving, because of how long a chaotic filming of a movie is. All you had today was a protein shake. Sipping on it throughout was fine but you needed food.
The second the clock struck one, you yanked open the door hoping to see your P.A on the other side and by the grace of god, she was.
“One Moe's Homewrecker Bowl with extra salsa, queso, and siracha. A large chocolate peanut butter cup milkshake from Steak & Shake and lastly homemade banana pudding straight from the Peach Cobbler Factory.” Deyzia handed you the bowl first and set the rest on the counter.
“D I fucking love you so much.” You moan taking a bite of your food. “I also love filming in Atlanta.”
The young girl giggled, grabbing water from the mini fridge and setting that beside you too. “You’re welcome, boss. Gotta keep the woman that pays me happy.”
You simply nodded, not caring about her words. The food was all that mattered at this moment.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
Thinking back to earlier that day, you push the play forward a bit and fake a groan. “Skipping lunch was a bad idea, but I need to make room for my pasta.”
The faux brunette beside you took that as an opportunity to clean your plate. “I felt that, but I’m not letting these mozzarella sticks go to waste.”
You had to fight the pout that wanted to set on your face as your stomach started to growl. “Go on right ahead Sash, I shouldn’t be eating such greasy food anyway.”
“Oh yeah, she’s a big movie star now guys.” Diane chuckles. “Before you know it, The Cheesecake Factory will be too good for her.”
Your laugh comes out halfheartedly. “Please if it ever does, I’ll start paying for everyone’s dinner.”
You can tell the dark skin beauty liked that even if her job in real estate had a more stable future than yours.
Everyone seemed to move on from your appetite afterward, now paying more attention to Sasha's newest romantic encounters- as a newly out fem she was immensely enjoying the fun queer scene.
But even with most eyes on her, you couldn’t help but feel another set studying your presence You quietly excuse yourself from the table and speed walk to the women’s restroom, the clacking of another pair of heels steps behind you causing sweat to build on your brow.
Looking in the mirror, you powder all the sweaty and oily spots on your face. Then reapply your favorite lip tint before your longtime friend speaks up.
“This morning all you could talk about was that cobbler place opening back up. I heard you place the same lunch order with the addition of the banana pudding you said was ‘so incredible, to die for, astronomically delicious.’ Then you came home and downed a large fruit salad. But you’re starving- no actually you're too full, but your stomach is definitely saying the latter.” You lock eyes in the mirror, but for the first time in 8 years, you can’t read the expression on her face.
“Yazmine.”
Her strong bronze arms cross over her chest, some of her blonde braids getting caught in the process. “You think I don’t know what’s going on?”
“Yaz…”
“No, we’ve been best friends since drama school and this is how you tell me?!” Her eyes are so scolding you shift your focus to putting your makeup away.
“Eliza!” The harsh tone of her voice makes you jump but paired with the role you’ve wanted since you knew what theater was it brought chills to your skin. The day you met, you both chose to audition with a Hamilton song so the director made you sit for each other’s ‘performances,’ in the end she became the Angelica to your Eliza.
“Yaz, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your hands shake as you close your purse and turn to leave. But her now soft mousy voice stops you. "Just wait."
“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”
Because you hadn’t admitted to yourself.
Turning you lay your head against the granite wall and show her the small pools in your eyes. “I.. I didn’t notice it at first, after most shoots I slept for hours. I didn’t want to eat but that was sort of normal. Then the um- cravings started, I was just glad my appetite was back. But I started getting sick, and that’s when I really noticed the changes. I kept telling myself they’d go away, that it’s not really happening. I still haven’t said it out loud, but it’s been two months. I wrap in a few days, the movie’s been a great distraction, but I-I don’t know what to do. The doctor said everything’s fine, but I don’t feel like myself anymore. I-I don’t-
She takes two large steps and engulfs you in her arms. “Hey, hey I’m here. I’m here Liza. You’re gonna be fine, I’m gonna help you through this. Don’t worry about it, you’re not alone babe. You have me, Dia, Sasha, Ariel, shit even Deyzia, we’ll always be here for you.”
You sob even harder. “I-I hav-haven’t-
“Shhhh, take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” She just rocks you in her arms, the safe and secureness she oozes is more than enough to calm a bear.
You slowly pick up your head and wipe away the remaining tears. “I haven’t told him. I found out after we broke up, he blocked me on everything and I changed my number. I don’t know if I can go through this with him, after everything we’ve been through. I can’t Yaz, I can’t tell him.”
She kisses your head and whispers against your heated skin. “I’ll tell him and I’ll whoop his ass in the process.”
You snort against her neck, softly pushing her away. “Thank you, I honestly have no idea what I’d do without you, Angel.” She smiles and wraps an arm around you.
“I know, who do you think helped you with all those damn orphanages?” You roll your eyes at her smirk as you walk back into the dining room.
“So who’s telling the girls?”
︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚
“Ja’Marr! Open up! I see his stupid car outside, you’re not fooling anyone!” Yazmine’s incessant yelling and banging on the Cincinnati door seize when the tatted wide receiver yanks it open.
“Woman, you need to chill the fuck out. Whatchu’ doing all that hollerin’ for?” The football player dawned a sweaty white muscle shirt and basketball shorts, clearly he had just finished a workout. Yazmine would usually take more time admiring his strong build, but that’s not why she’s here.
“Where is he? Bring Burrow’s ass out, we need to have a chat.” She demands arms crossed and lips pursed.
Ja’Marr smirks doing his own look over the woman in front of him. “Mm mm mmm. You sure are breathtaking, baby.” He bites his bottom lip tilting his head to get a peak at her backside. “What did I do to earn the sight of this..
“Hey! No, focus Chase.” She snaps her fingers in his face to riel him back in. “Joseph. Burrow. Get him. Now.”
He takes in the serious look on her face and shakes his head. “I assume this is about your girlfriend, so..” He steps back and opens the door wide enough for her to go through then nods towards the direction of his kitchen.
“Thank you.” Yazmine leans up and places a chaste kiss on his cheek. “If this goes well, you might get more later.” Then walks off looking for the quarterback.
“I better be getting more, fucking HOA gon kill me for the damn noise.”
Turning a wide corner, Yazmine spots the man she’s been searching for at the kitchen counter, wearing almost the exact attire as his friend. “Oh sorry, I didn't know you and J were rendezvousing today.”
She looks at the man confused. “Rendezvous? That’s not what we’ve been- nothing is going on.”
Joe cocked his head with a smirk. “Isn’t it though? I’m pretty sure sneaking around for months on end means there’s definitely something going on behind closed doors.”
Yazmine rolls her eyes and sits on a bar stool, leaving an empty one in between them. “Whatever that’s not why I’m here- didn’t you hear me at the door?”
He points to the Beats headphones fitted snugly in his ear.
“Okay well, this is about you and..” Joe scoffs hopping up from the stool.
“If there’s no you and J, there definitely isn’t a me and her. I don’t want to hear it, she clearly doesn't either considering she’s not here herself.”
Yaz gets up and follows him to the backyard. “This is serious Joe, if she could be here, you know she would.”
“Actually I don't know anything about her anymore, including her number, because she changed it hours after we broke up.” He muttered picking up a basketball, bouncing it once, and shooting- only to airball.
“She had to change it, remember the stupid leak! You didn’t have to block her on everything though, maybe if you had left at least one line of communication open I wouldn't be here, asshole.” She snickers as his second shot also falls short.
“Well get the damn thing over with then. What’s the problem?”
Her face softens and she reaches into her back pocket. “Joe, she’s pregnant.”
His frustrated demeanor immediately drops, replaced with wide eyes and parted lips. He slowly feels his world start spinning, he parts his stance and grips onto the basketball for some kind of relief.
“She’s 11 weeks, almost 3 months. It’s most definitely yours and she just got back in town. She wanted me to tell you because she was scared of your reaction, she’s not sure if she wants you to be there though.” Yazmine confesses handing him an ultrasound picture.
“What do y- what? Why wouldn’t she want me there? I- I don’t understand.” His eyes are locked on the image as it shakes in his hand.
Yazmine lets out a breath. “Think about it Joe, you were nothing but unreliable in the 3 years you were together. You put football, your foundation, even your friends before her. Then when she got her big break, the happiest day of her life, she had to come home to you in bed with someone else. You didn’t know how to be in a relationship so instead of asking her how she felt, you broke her heart. Does that sound like someone she’d want to raise a child with? She didn’t even want to admit to herself, I didn’t find out until a few weeks ago.” She inhales deeply trying to calm her emotions.
“I’m only telling you because it would be cruel not to. Even if I thought telling you would do the trick if that's what she was going for. She doesn’t want anything from you, so don’t worry about being put on child support. I don’t know how the rest of this is going to go, but I will not let you and your bullshit upset her, stress her out, or bother her about it. That’s my best friend and I will do anything to protect her. You may not want to step up to be a father, but that baby will have two parents no matter what.” A stray tear streams down her face, he’s now looking at her intently.
“Now you have a choice: keep the picture, hide it somewhere then sign away your rights in a few months, or turn it over and change your life.” Yazmine swiped away the tear and then left him alone on the court.
Joe hadn’t realized he too had been crying until a tear dripped onto the paper. He stumbled over to a lawn chair, not taking his eyes off of the black and white fetus. The damp spot now made the paper translucent allowing him to see blue ink on the other side. His brows furrowed then he remembered, ‘Turn it over and change your life.’
Flipping the image hope peaked in his heart as he repeatedly read the number.
The quarterback quickly began to pat his shorts, realizing he left his phone inside. He rushed into the house, passing Yazmine and completely ignoring his teammate to grab his phone on the kitchen counter. Not caring about the small audience he dials the number as fast as he can, praying that she’ll answer.
“Come on, come on. Please pick up.” It goes straight to voicemail, her fake perky voice fibbing about calling back on the other side instead.
But he still takes the chance and leaves a message. “Baby, it’s me. I know, Yaz told me. I’m so sorry, I know it’s long overdue but please if there’s a chance I wanna be there. If this is the only time that I have to get through to you, I’m taking the shot. I know you deserve way better than me and that baby- our baby deserves to have a family that loves them and cherishes them for everything. Give me a chance to be the man you need me to be, I miss you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t see what I had right in front of me. I’m sorry about the image you have of me in her head. If I could start all this over again, I’d change everything I did- I was selfish and foolish. I need you.. I want you, you’re the only one I want. Please, I want to be a father to our baby. I watch them grow up with you. Even if we don’t work out again, I won’t leave our baby. I won’t leave you until you’re kicking and screaming for me to go. Just give me one more shot, to show you that I can be who you need me to be. I don't want this to be the end of our story, tell me I have more time. Please baby, just call me back.”
'This mailbox is now full. Goodbye.'
☆. ° ₊*. :°• .° . ☆ • . .
Main Masterlist
Like, comment and reblog for a part 2 (should she call him back?)
#black reader#joe burrow x reader#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow#joe burrow x black reader#joe burrow bengals#nfl imagine#actress#actress!reader#pregnant!reader#accidental pregnancy#exes#toxic relationship#bengals barnesbabe#joe burrow imagine#jurnee smollett#angst#no happy ending#yet#sad ending#ja'marr chase#fanfic#secret relationship#friends are family#Hamilton reference#theater kid
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THE EMPEROR'S NEW GROOVE (2000) PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary
how shall i do it?
oh, is that hard to believe?
is this really the best you could do?
check out this piece of work.
i'm here because i received a summons.
word on the street is you can fix my problem.
the drinks were a bit on the warm side.
okay, i admit it. maybe i wasn’t as nice as i should have been.
do you really want to kill me?
so is everything ready for tonight?
i thought we’d start off with a soup and a light salad, and then see how we feel after that.
we’re about to go over a huge waterfall.
bring it on.
you got all that, honey?
what about dinner?
all right. a quick cup of coffee.
but what does that have to do with anything?
you’re sort of confusing me.
how did you get back here before us?
by all accounts, it doesn’t make sense.
i never liked your spinach puffs.
ah. should have seen that coming.
you know what, you could have told me that before i set it up.
now you stop being hard on yourself. all is forgiven.
it’s not the first time i was tossed out of a window, and it won’t be the last.
what can i say? i’m a rebel.
i can’t believe this is happening!
break the door down!
are you kidding me? this is hand-carved mahogany.
so you lied to me.
couldn’t pull the wool over your eyes, huh.
why did i risk my life for a selfish brat like you?
i was always taught that there was some good in everyone, but, oh, you proved me wrong.
now i feel really bad.
you threw off my groove!
he didn’t pay his check.
this had better be good!
this is the last time we take directions from a squirrel.
yeah, like that would ever happen.
will you take a look at this?
oh, is that hard to believe?
just thought i’d give you a heads up.
what do you mean the door’s stuck? try jiggling the handle.
you’re the criminal mastermind here, not me.
just leave me alone.
it’s my birthday gift to me. i’m so happy.
hey, it doesn’t always have to be about you.
uh, he doesn’t really wanna talk to you.
hey, did you see that sky today? talk about blue.
don’t drink the wine.
our moment of triumph approaches!
oh, he’s doing his own theme music.
i’m so glad i was unconscious for all of this.
you’re not just gonna let him die like that, are you?
don’t listen to that guy.
if it were me, i’d march right back there and demand to see him.
you just saved my life!
believe it or not, i think i need a bath.
maybe i’m just new to this whole rescuing thing, but this, to me, might be considered kind of a step backwards.
i ate a bug today!
what is this guy babbling about?
i’ll be sure to tell him you stopped by.
i gotta go wash something.
anything sounds bad when you say it with that attitude.
let me guess, you have a great personality.
thanks for going back on your promise!
how long has that been there?
someday you’re gonna wind up all alone, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.
hmm. don’t know, don’t care. how’s that?
for the last time, it was not a kiss.
#rp meme#rp memes#rp prompt#roleplay memes#roleplay prompt#rp starters#mcflymemes#ask meme#ask memes#roleplay meme#roleplay inbox prompts#rp inbox meme#inbox prompt#inbox meme#sentence starter prompt#sentence starter#sentence starters#the emperors new groove
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Short Term Solutions for the wip game! 💕💕💕
for the WIP title meme!
tbh can't remember what i've posted from this one before--
Tommy feels like he’s walking onto another scene when he shows up at Evan’s apartment. There’s smoke, albeit thinning through every open window, and Evan is standing on the table waving a sheet pan at the detector high overhead on the ceiling. “Hey.” Evan doesn’t look down at him. Tommy sees a smothered pot on the stove’s back burner, hallmark of a grease fire. “How do you feel about pizza?” “I love pizza,” he offers, like there’s a monster out there that somehow doesn’t. He tries to hide the worry in his voice and makes his way around the kitchen island to the stove so he can help dispose of the smoldering remains of dinner. “I’ll call Dominoes as soon as I’m not afraid of this alarm going off again,” Evan says. “Don’t worry about it.” Fuck Dominoes. Evan’s clearly had a long day, and Tommy is hungry but he’s not that hungry. They’re doing the overpriced hole-in-the-wall down the street where Ryan Gosling was apparently caught by paparazzi last week. He’s fine paying. “I can call.” Evan gives in without a fight, so he must really be at his limit. “Thanks.” It’s tough to see him like this. His usual spark has been dimming more and more the past month since Gerrard resumed control of the 118, and even on the really bad days, he seems reluctant to talk about it. The first time they did, Tommy tried to pass along wisdom from what he remembered of Gerrard: keep your head down, don’t go out of your way to do anything you weren’t asked to do (especially on a call), stay in your lane, and document every goddamn thing as best as you can the second it happens. But these days Tommy can see it in the dismissive way that Evan will crack open a beer on the countertop and say, “Nothing, nothing, you know, asked me if i moved out here ‘cause California is the land of fruits and nuts again,” that there is something worse and more complicated going on under the surface, something Evan refuses to let him help carry the weight on for a variety of reasons. It sucks. Tommy wants to help, and watching Evan struggle and buckle under whatever is going down at the 118 without him is starting to scare him. Something’s gotta give, and Tommy knows it inevitably will. The best thing he knows he can do until further notice is focus on short term solutions. He can take care of a smoking pan while Evan stands helplessly on his kitchen table. He can order a large Hellraiser, extra meat. He can get Evan so far outside of his head he’s boneless and thoughtless and can temporarily forget. “Delivery ETA is sixty minutes,” Tommy announces as he gets off the phone. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Evan says, gingerly getting off the table and setting the pan down. “I told you I’d have dinner ready, you’re probably starving. I can probably throw a salad together—“ “Don’t worry about it,” Tommy says, and that’s when he notices one of Evan’s hands is loosely wrapped. “Are you okay?” Evan seems to have forgotten about it, and looks down at his own palm when he sees Tommy staring. “What? Oh, yeah, got distracted, burned it. Then totally forgot I left the heat on high when I went to take care of it, and“—he waves his good hand vaguely around at the thinning smoke, a half-laugh catching in his throat clearly directed at himself—“yeah. Just can’t seem to stay out of my own way today.” There’s something unsaid there, some kind of weakness Evan doesn’t seem willing to part with, and it breaks Tommy’s heart. He maneuvers his way over to Evan’s side, taking him by the wrist to gently kiss over the burn. “Well, we have an hour.” He sighs. “Tell you what. Let me take care of you, get you out of your head for a bit. Then, after dinner, can we talk about it?” Evan stares up at him, eyes so big. Some invisible weight seems to slough off his shoulders at the suggestion alone, and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
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"Mɪᴛᴄʜᴇʟʟ Esᴛᴀᴛᴇs" - Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
Divders (In each Chapter) by @firefly-graphics & @cafekitsune
Hello! This is the Masterlist page for my 17-part Ewanverse Series titled: Mitchell Apartments! This series includes 11 of Ewan's most prominent characters and does take place in the modern world!
Summary: You manage to finally get an apartment, the rent isn't cheap and you know you'll have to overwork yourself to afford it but you have no other choice. You can't go home and you can't afford to go anywhere else. It's quiet and lonely in the beginning but you soon make some connections with the other tenants, and you manage to get yourself into some trouble too.
Can you survive living in this new area? Or will you be packing up and moving before the year's up? What could go wrong? They just want to be friendly.
Fandom(s): House of The Dragon, Salad Days, Grantchester, The Halycon, Fire, World on Fire, Saltburn, The Las Kingdom, Trigger Point, High Life, and Doctors
Warnings: These fics will include dubcon, manipulation, & violence More specific warnings will be added to individual chapters! 18+ only fic!
If you wish to be added to the taglist please comment on this!
Chapter 1: "Moving In"
Chapter 2: "Bitter" (Will x Reader)
Chapter 3: "Babysitter" (03/16)
Chapter 4: "Gentle" (Jack x Reader) (TBD)
Chapter 5: "Confident" (Billy Washington x Reader) (TBD)
Chapter 6: "Trouble in Paradise" (TBD)
Chapter 7: "Filthy" (Abraham x Reader) (TBD)
Chapter 8: "Good Boy" (Osferth x Reader) (TBD)
Chapter 9: "New Beginning" (TBD)
Chapter 10: "Date Night" (Tom Bennett x Reader) (TBD)
Chapter 11: "Good Neighbor" (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) (TBD)
Chapter 12: "Pop Quiz" (TBD)
Chapter 13: "Flustered" (Billy Taylor x Reader) (TBD)
Chapter 14: "Nerd" (Micheal Gavey x Reader) (TBD)
Chapter 15: "Laundry" (TBD)
Chapter 16: "Easy Money" (Genyen x Reader) (TBD)
Chapter 17: "Rent" (Ettore x Reader) (TBD)
A/N: If not mentioned in chapters I wish to reiterate something. All characters that partake in any sexual content (even fluff) are 18+. No one is underage. If you as a reader are underage I beg of you to not read this! If I knew how to sniff you guys out and block you I would.
If you decide to not listen to me please understand you are responsible for your own consumption. No Parents should be attempting to get my account taken down because of your choices!
PLEASE READ: I would also like to say. These stories are not meant to be taken any specific way. I say this because I worry how people will react to her sleeping with ALL of her neighbors. This was honestly just for funsies and if I see any serious slut shaming comments you're getting blocked.
Honourable Mentions: @thought--bubble Jess is honestly the whole reason I started writing in the first place! Her Kitty Cat Series inspired me to write my own Ettore fic which has led me here today. Thank you Jess for feeding my delusions and being a source of inspiration!
MaximumWill (NSFW! LINKS) Patreon & Soundgasm You guys may think this is odd...but I gotta credit him. I do not believe he has Tumblr but I have linked to his patreon. He is an 18+ audio maker...(if you know what I mean 😏🍆) He is the inspiration for the Micheal Chapter with this audio & the inspiration for this ENTIRE series + the Ettore chapter with this audio. (Please do not judge me...Im already ashamed🫠🫣)
#ewan mitchell verse#ewan nation#ewanverse#ettore x reader#ettore high life#ewan mitchell fanfic#ettore#ettore smut#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond fanfiction#aemond smut#tom bennett smut#tom bennet x reader#tom bennett#genyen#micheal gavey#micheal gavey x reader#micheal gavey smut#osferth#baby monk#osferth smut#osferth x reader#will x reader#will salad days fic#will salad days fanfic#abraham grantchester#abraham fan fic
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Aww I love your writing so much!!!! 🩷🩷 The detective Loki A-Z felt so accurate 🥹 he’s so precious. Can you write something that kind of goes off the jealousy area? Like it’s a coworker who reader gets close with and is honestly clueless to the flirting?
F o r g i v e n
a/n: here you go, nonny! i couldn't agree more. David is my baby and he deserves some happiness and a warm hug
pairing: Detective David Loki x reader
summary: a new co-worker makes a misguided move on the reader and david gets pissed
warnings: language, angst, arguing (if i missed one, lemme know. minors, do not interact!)
SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG
Sliding your legs over the edge of your side of the bed, you sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes. David’s on the phone with O’Malley. You already know he’s gotta go into work today.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in 30 tops” he says lowly in his gravely morning voice before hanging up his cell phone.
“I’ll make breakfast” you smile sleepily at him.
You reach out to reassuringly squeeze his arm to let him know it’s alright. He’s already mentally beating himself up for waking you up and not being able to be enjoy his morning off with you as he had promised.
You make your way through the one-story house and head to the kitchen to get his coffee going. You decide on making a hearty breakfast because you know very well David will skip lunch today.
So, you settle for a nice egg, bacon, and cheese sandwich on toasted bagels with cream cheese. You make two for him so he can take one to work and hopefully eat while he’s on the road. You even cut up some bananas, apples, strawberries and oranges to make a little fruit salad.
David isn’t the healthiest guy around, but he deeply appreciates that you care for him and his health. He never really had anyone to care about him – much less his health – so he’ll sure make to eat every bite.
You hear his electric razor shut off after his shower. A while later, he comes into the kitchen with his hair slicked back. His light blue button-up shirt is open, exposing his white sleeveless undershirt. His gold chain dangles and dances around his neck as he buttons the cuffs of his shirt.
You can’t help but smile to yourself. You wish you could stop him and slide his button-up off. You love it when he wears his undershirt and chain around the house.
“Honey, think you can get a ride to work today?” he asks kissing the back of your head as you slice up the fruit.
“Yeah, babe. It’s no problem. I already texted Jared and asked him to pick me up.”
His hands working the buttons closed on his front stop as his eyes narrow in on the back of your head.
“Jared? You already texted him?”
“Yeah. I figured you’d leave before me.”
“Oh…”
You know that there’s something he’s holding back from you. You turn your head to glance at him, hoping to get a read of him as you slide the chopped-up fruit in a container.
“Is there a problem with that?”
You already know the answer to that.
“No. Nothing. Just didn’t know you and Jared were so close already. I mean, didn’t he just start there like two weeks ago?”
His eyebrows rise and his lip press flat as he looks down at his hands, letting them finish their work on his shirt.
“Two months ago, but he was pretty much on his own, so I figured I’d be the first to befriend him. The first weeks are the worst when you start working at a new place.”
“Yeah, I get that. Just didn’t think you were already texting each other.”
“Dave, there’s nothing going on between us if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. Your face says it all.”
You’re slightly hurt that he would think there could be something brewinh between you and Jared. It may come from a place of worry, but isn't that trust is for?
“Look, I gotta get going. I’ll see you tonight.”
You nod as you hand him the containers of sandwiches and his travel mug. He leaves you with a kiss on your forehead and you watch him leave, letting the tension hang in the air. You try to put it on the mental backburner as you head up to get ready for your day.
Hearing a honk coming from outside, you look out the window and confirm Jared’s arrival. You grab your bag, keys and phone before heading out the door and walking to Jared’s car.
“Hey, Jare. Thanks for the late-notice lift. David got called in and my car’s still at the shop.”
“You know I don’t mind it at all. It’s been almost a couple days though. Have they given you any updates on it?”
“Something about the starting motor failing. Solenoid damage, I think? They have to replace some coils or some shit.”
“That shouldn’t take more than a few hours to replace though.”
“David says the same thing. He’s getting pretty impatient. Said he’s gonna stop by there today to check up. You know how some mechanics can be when they see a girl with car trouble.” You complete with a roll of your eyes.
“Yeah, some pricks take advantages. I know a thing or two about cars. I’d be happy to look into it for you if you want?”
“Really? Yeah, yeah. That’d be great. I’m gonna wait for David though. He said he’d stop by there today. I’ll give you a heads up though.”
After arriving to work, you head straight for your sector to settle in. You can’t help but notice how kind Jared seems to be towards you in this new light that David casted earlier in the morning.
Jared always offers to refill your water bottle whenever he gets up, always offers snacks, brings you back your favorite coffee or tea after his breaks, compliments your hair or nails or even your perfume. During the whole day, you can’t help but notice he doesn’t treat his other co-workers the same. You begin to wonder if you’ve led him on to believe you’re more than just co-workers or if it’s because he’s new and not very close to the others.
You decide to shake the thought from your head and go on about your work. However, with this new concept in the back of your mind, you start to politely deny Jared’s kind offers. He doesn’t seem hurt by it. A small wave of relief washes over you. Maybe you were just in over your head and overthinking what David had told you.
Around closing time, Jared stops by your station to check if you need a ride home. You check your phone, hoping David texted you with a reply about picking you up, but there’s no new messages.
Your heart sinks a bit. You’d hoped he could’ve at least replied. Is he really that upset with you?
“Yeah, I could use a ride.”
The house isn’t very far. You could walk home, but the rain is already pouring down heavy. And this time of year, the cold winter air is starting to arrive, slickening the streets and sidewalks with ice.
You smile to hide that you wished you didn’t need a ride from Jared. You know it’s not gonna make things easier to deal with at home.
Part of you thinks David is acting ridiculously like a child that's too selfish to share a toy. Only you’re not a toy. You’re a human being and you’re his fiancée. You’re supposed to be getting married.
The other part of you wonders how you would feel if it were the other way around. If he had a new partner on the job and spent hours with her. With everything Jared does for you, would you be ok with someone else treating David the same way?
Trying to settle the internal dispute, you remember that it’s your intentions that really counts. You’re not breaking his trust because you have no intention of getting with Jared. You’re friends and that’s all there is. And you would want David to have a good friend too in your situation.
You walk out together, gabbling on about the day as you climb into his car.
As Jared turns onto your street, you’re laughing over an amusing situation you’d survived in your first week at the company with an unsatisfied client. Jared had had his first unpleasant interaction with a frustrated client. Although he handled it pretty well, he was still a bit disappointed about it.
Grateful the rain has let up, you notice Dave’s car parked in the driveway. Why didn’t he at least text you back if he was home? You feel a slight pang in your chest, but you shove it down as you continue your conversation. Jared knows your line of though has been thrown off and he can only guess it has to do with the black Crown Victoria perched in front of the garage.
“It can happen to anyone,” you say looking up at the tall brown-haired co-worker as he turns the car off, parking in front of your house. You hear a door close from outside and keys jingling, but you don’t think much of it. Most of your neighbors get home at this time as well.
“You can’t please everybody and you have to accept that,” you resume looking down at the dashboard. “You’re not here to please, you’re here to do your job.”
“You’re an amazing person, you know that?”
Something is different about the way Jared is looking at you. It’s intense and you don’t like it.
He leans over the arm rest/storage compartment separating the front seats and places a surprising kiss on your cheek.
You quick react by pulling yourself back and gently push him away with a hand on his shoulder.
“Whoa, Jared. That’s sweet, but i-it’s not like that. We’re just friends. You realize that, right?” you ask frowning at him. “I’m happily engaged.”
“Y-yeah... I figured. I thought I-I’d shoot my shot. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He looks down embarrassed as his cheeks blush a bright regretful shade of red. “I misread things. I’m sorry. That’s on me. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. Just… Don’t do that again, alright?”
“Yeah. Definitely will not” he chuckles nervously. “It won’t happen again. I promise. Just like you said, we’re only friends.”
You’re not really sure how to react. You can tell he feels really awkward about the whole thing, but you just want to get out of there as quickly as possible.
Flashing a shy, nervous smile at him, you thank him for the ride and climb out of the car. You slowly walk up the concrete path, digging through you bag for your keys.
Upon finding them, you look up and freeze.
David is standing in the path, glaring at the young man in the car. As he keeps his furious gaze locked on Jared, his hands move to rest on his hip. Pushing back his black winter jacket, his gold badge and his standard issue gun are exposed to remind Jared of who he is.
You don’t realize it’s a non-verbal threat. You just think he’s pissed judging by the constant hard blinking of his eyes.
“David, it’s not what you th-“ you start only to be cut off.
“In the house. Right now.”
He has a point. This isn’t a topic to discuss outside for all your neighbors to hear.
You walk quietly past him and march up the porch. You leave the door open for him, but he’s not far behind you. Only a couple moments since he’d been staring Jared down until he finally drove away.
The door slams as he enters the house.
“Are you fucking serious? There’s nothing going on, right?” He asks loudly and angrily.
“Yes, there’s nothing going on, Dave.” You say trying to stay calm, unwilling to match his tone. You’d be angry too in his place.
“You expect me to believe that after what I just saw?!”
“Yes, because that’s the truth. I know how that looked like. He thought I was sending him signs of interest. I won’t lie about that. But I didn’t want him to do that. There is absolutely no interest on my behalf!”
“The fucking chicken hawk just kissed you!”
“I didn’t want him to! I told him that! Maybe if you had picked me up from work or at least fucking texted me back, I wouldn’t have gotten in that fucking car in the first place!” you seethe at him.
“Oh, so this is my fault??” he snaps back at you bewildered.
He opens his mouth to speak, but just in that same moment, his cell phone rings. A hushed ‘fuck’ escapes from his lips as he answers the call. You just roll your eyes and fold your arm across your chest because you already know what that means.
The conversation is quick. You can’t tell much; all you know is that Captain O’Malley is calling him into the station.
“We’re not done on this”, he says with a raised finger in your direction and opens the door behind him.
The door slams shut. You close your eyes and lean against the wall, wishing you had never gotten in that car.
Dragging your tired body up the stairs, you make your way to your room. You notice the comforter is rumpled on David’s side along with his pillows. It’s not as you had it in the morning; it was neat and made to look inviting. You sigh and run a hand through your hair. Now you know why he didn’t answer you at first; he had fallen asleep.
You set your bag atop of the dresser that you share. You dig out your phone to set it to charge. There’re a couple unread messages and 2 missed calls; all from David and right around the time you’d left work.
Sorry, babe. Fell asleep and just woke up.
On my way right now!
You feel guilty thinking about how you could’ve avoided the whole ordeal. Now, David is mad at you and you’re mad at him for thinking that you wanted Jared to kiss you.
You head into the ensuite bathroom to shower and let the water wash away the stress of your day. As the warm water pours over you, you just hope this isn’t what ends your relationship.
Once you’re cleaned and a bit more relaxed, you go about the house to start on some of the chores. Deciding on a simple, quick and easy dinner, you sit on the couch to eat by yourself.
It’s been hours since David’s left and you miss him. You just want him to come home, so you can tell him how much you miss and love him.
You look down at your phone. He read your “I’m sorry” text, but he hasn’t replied. You wonder if it’s because he’s busy or he just doesn’t want to talk to you.
Wanting to stay up and wait for him, you start on the dirty dishes and pots in the kitchen. Then the laundry. You can’t stay still. It bothers you too much and you have to stay awake. There’s nothing left to do around the house, so you plot back down on the couch and surf through the channels to try to find something to watch.
It’s around midnight when you hear his car pull into the driveway. You race to the window to look out and make sure it’s him. He looks tired as he approaches the house with his keys in hand. His shoulders are hunched from the weight of the day’s stress.
You stand by the window and watch as he drags himself inside. He closes the door and hangs up his jacket before kicking his boots off. His back is turned to you and he hasn’t seen you yet.
When he does, he gazes at you for a moment. He’s too tired to argue, but he loves the fact that you’re wearing his sweater.
“You hungry? I made dinner. I can make you a plate,” you say softly breaking the silence.
“Yeah, I could eat.”
It’s quiet between you both. It’s a moment of cease fire. The elephant is still in the room, but you know how his weighs heavily on him. Especially with the case he’s working on. You don’t know much about it. David likes to keep that away from you. All you know is what you heard on the news and that there are kids involved. Those types of cases hit too close to home for him.
You leave him to eat in peace and tell him that you’re heading up to bed.
Assuming he’ll sleep on the couch since he must be upset still, you head to the bathroom to have a final tinkle before bed and brush your teeth. You crawl into bed and hug your pillow as you stare at the wall, luminated only by the fluorescent orange light of the street lamps.
Tears prick your eyes. You hate this distance between you and him. It’s ridiculous, but you know it’s not the time for it.
You hear David’s footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall. The door creaks as he walks into the bedroom.
He goes about his usual routine; set his ring and chain on top of the dresser along with his badge. Then he walks over to the nightstand to open the drawer there. He pulls his gun from it's holster and makes sure its' safety is on. He had set it before already, but it never hurt to double check.
Soon after setting the gun in the lockbox within the drawer, he quietly makes his way to the bathroom. He opens the squeaky faucet and water pours from the shower.
He doesn’t take long. It’s a quick shower to wash his hair and body. He’s too tired to do more than he has to.
You hear him come into the room to grab a pair of boxers from his drawers. He seems quiet and still. Though your back is turned to him, you feel his eyes on you.
He stands still, hands on the wooden dresser as he mentally contemplates what to do. He knows it wasn’t your fault. He knows it wasn’t you who kissed Jared. He saw you pull away and push him back. He knows you didn’t like it or expect it just as much as him.
His head drops and his eyes close. In truth, the time at work had kept him too busy to think about it much, but he did think about you. Part of him felt you were like a victim, caught up in the crime with no fault. The other part of him wondered what could have happened to influence Jared to kiss you.
With a heavy sigh, you sense his footsteps approaching the bed. You expect to feel the wool blanket at the foot of the bed slide off along with his pillow.
To your surprise, you feel the comforter lifts behind you allowing a cool breeze to creep onto your back. Your heart beats faster. The mattress dips with his heavy frame. And you feel an arm drape over your waist.
“You awake?” His voice is a whisper in the dark.
You reply with a nod. You don’t want him to see you’re crying, though you know it’s inevitable.
“Can we talk?”
You quickly wipe your eyes in an attempt to omit the evidence of your pain. Turning onto your other side, you’re face to face. His hand doesn’t leave your waist. You let him slide underneath your shirt to feel your warmth.
“I don’t wanna fight. I don’t wanna argue,” he starts.
“Neither do I, Dave.” Your voice is soft as you reach to tenderly hold his bicep. You want to pull him close and hold him forever, but that might be too much.
“Are you really happy being with me?”
Your heart breaks to think that he feels like you might not be happy with him. You open your mouth to answer him, desperate to chase away his fear, but he continues.
“I know I’m not the best partner. I know for sure I haven’t been in the past. In some relationships, I didn’t even try to be. But I’m trying, sweetheart. I’m trying real hard because I love you and I want to be with you. I don’t know if it’s enou-“
You can’t listen to him anymore.
“Listen to me, Dave. I love you. You are more than enough for me and you make me the happiest in the world. And that’s enough for me. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You sure about that?” he asks with pleading eyes.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Jared is just a dude I felt bad for at work. I was just trying to be a friend, that’s all. But he misread my intentions. That’s it, that’s all that happened. And I’m gonna distance myself from him because I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”
David feels relieved to hear your solution. He didn’t want risk sounding like a possessive jerk and ask you to not talk to Jared anymore, but he likes that you’re willing to make that change willingly for the sake of your relationship.
After all, he can’t be surprised someone else would want to have you. The minute he met you, he wanted you for himself as well. He’s just lucky he got to have his chance before anyone did.
He smiles tiredly at you and closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours.
“Think you can forgive me for being a dick earlier? I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”
“I don’t know. You might just have to make it up to me” you tease with a playful smirk, getting a low chuckle out of him.
“Whatever you want. Just name it.”
#david loki#david loki imagine#david loki prisoners#detective david loki#david loki x reader#david loki x y/n#david loki x you#prisoners#jake gyllenhaal
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Here's have some Satosugu family stupidity. This is mostly just humour/crack fic because I needed a little break today. Hope you enjoy!
5 conversations Megumi Fushiguro overheard that he wished he hadn't.
Megumi Fushiguro loves his family, friends and boyfriend. He also hates all of them and thinks they should be the ones to pay for his therapy. Here are the things he has been made to hear with his own two ears over the course of one week.
1. The Todo Incident.
Todo mimed rudely with his right hand, his left hand holding his soft drink.
“Bro seriously if you sit on your hand it totally feels like it's a different person. Granted you should do both hands if you want the full package involved though.”
Yuji sighed “Number 1 no it doesn't, 2 stop telling me these things and 3 I don't even need this information!!” He hissed, pulling Todo’s arm down to stop him making the gesture.
Todo stared at him and then at Megumi and then erupted into applause wiping his eyes and hugging his friend, telling him how proud of him he was. He put his hand on Megumi's shoulder and congratulated him on his willpower and relationship, remarking that he had seen what his brother was working with and Megumi was truly strong in spirit for taking on that challenge. Megumi bent his finger back nearly breaking it and told him to never speak to him nor touch him again if he wanted to keep the other fingers.
2. The downfalls of understanding Riceball language.
Toge sat beside Yuta and leant his head on his shoulder before looking up at him, a gentle smile on his face.
Yuta smiled back. “I missed this. It's nice getting to hang out together in person again isn't it?”
Toge: Salmon, salmon, tuna mayo. (It was nicer getting to spend the morning in bed together with your dick in my throat)
Yuta coughed turning red. Megumi stared off to the side pretending he hadn't understood that.
Yuji stared at all of them. “Aw man did Toge say something funny again? I gotta get my head around that speech of his, it's so cool.
Megumi shook his head.
3. Not even safe at home.
Gojo walked into the kitchen and took his shirt off sitting next to his husband.
“Baby you are not gonna BELIEVE the size of the spot on my back”
Geto put his book down looking interested “bigger than the one on your thigh the other day?”
Gojo nodded "for sure!” He sat facing away from his partner. “Go slow though please it's gonna sting like a bitch I just know it”
Geto sighed and squeezed at his back and popped it. He showed Gojo how much was on his finger.
“Woah there was so much!” Geto said.
“Told you!” Gojo said. “Ooooh you know I'm kind of in a mood to be pampered, think you can do my eyebrows later, like tweezing them?” Gojo said, leaning his head back onto his partner's lap.
Geto smiled “Ok baby, and wanna do face masks like last time?”
Gojo nodded and clapped his hands together happily.
Megumi shut the fridge door behind them.
“Sometimes I think it would be less gay if I walked in on you two actually fucking” he said and took his coke upstairs.
“Oh go kiss your boyfriend you homophobe!” Gojo yelled after him, Geto laughed.
4. Girl talk
“No lube, no protection, all night all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the church, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, while i gasp for air and scream the lord’s prayer, he can have me!!!!” Nanako wailed at the TV lying on the floor pretending to claw at the screen watching the new Jungkook video again for the 15th time.
“He is pretty cute,” Tsumiki smiled.
“He could spit on my face and I'd thank him,” Mimiko sighed.
Megumi looked down at his salad and threw it in the bin deciding to only visit the kitchen when he was sure no one else was there.
5. Couples counselling
“Look I get it, I know you have an image to maintain but can we please just talk about it” Nobara said following Maki who sighed and stood up ahead.
“No, can we please just drop it”
“It's ok to be embarrassed but honestly I think it's really cute you're always the little spoon! I'm sorry I called myself your jetpack!”
“Panda is never gonna let me live this down,” Maki said. “And you can stop smirking too!” She yelled pointing her staff at Megumi who raised his hands and backed away going down the other way through the corridor.
#satosugu#stsg#itafushi#crack fic#humour fic#nobamaki#inuokko#goge#gego#teacher geto au#teacher!geto#my writing#satosugu family au
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The Fake Dating Job - Chapter 3
Elliot Spencer x Reader
Chapter 1 & Chapter 2
Note: So sorry for the hiatus. Life got in the way. Thank you for sticking around and being so patient with me 💕
Word Count: ~1.9k
Description: You wake up in a comfortable warmth the morning of the wedding. This leaves Eliot consuming your every thought as you get ready.
• • •
You start to stir as you feel the light of the sun creep through the sheer curtains of the hotel room. You feel a comfortable warmth envelop you and sink further into it, seeking shelter from the harsh chill of the room.
Suddenly you feel the bed shift under you and realize the warmth you’re feeling is Eliot’s chest beneath you. His arms are wrapped around you as he pulls you close in his sleep.
A soft smile graces Eliot’s no longer sleeping face as he feels you cuddle closer to him. He knows he won’t often get the chance to hold you like this so he pretends to not notice the way you breathe hitches with every movement. He may never get to hold you like this again but he will dream happily at night at just the memory of your soft skin against his calloused hands.
You lay there, eyes now open, as still as you can and just soak in this seemingly unconscious act of affection. This isn’t like every other touch of this torturous weekend. This is real, perhaps unintentional, but real nonetheless. This isn’t for an audience, this is just Eliot holding you to him as he rests.
Sadly the moment is ripped from you as you hear your sister knock on the door to your room. Eliot pretends to startle awake and you do the same as you quickly pull away from each other.
“Y/N!” your sister calls out. “We gotta get going. The makeup artist will be at the venue in half an hour.” Eliot lays back down, now that he knows the disturbance had nothing to do with him.
You sigh and roll out of bed. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten!”
You wash your face and brush your teeth as you try to calm your racing thoughts.
By the time you leave the bathroom, Eliot has settled back in to sleep, stretching his body across nearly the entire bed. You can’t help the smile that crosses your face at the sight of the nearly always tense hitter at ease for once.
You grab your dress and the small day bag you had for the trip and close the door as quietly as you can.
***
You and the other girls are chatting in the green robes your sister gave you each as gifts. You are in the middle of getting your hair done when a text lights up your phone.
Eliot: Did your sister plan lunch for all of you?
“Ooh, you’re blushing y/n” you hear the voice of your sister’s best friend from across the room, “Texting your new man?”
The other girls chuckle and they continue to talk amongst themselves.
You roll your eyes and pretend to ignore them, but can feel the blush light up your cheeks. You show your sister the text to get her answer.
“Mom talked about running to the store and picking up salads or sandwiches later. I just don’t want anything that will upset my stomach. It’s already in knots with everything else today.” She points down the hall and adds, “There’s a kitchen through there if you want her to pick you something to make instead though.”
“Thanks,” you reply as you type out your response.
Y/n: My mom might be picking something up. There’s a kitchen in the bridal suite so we have options. Why?
Eliot: Tell your mom not to worry about it. If it’s alright with your sister, I’ll take care of lunch for you ladies.
Your sister elbows you lightly as she teases, “Do you smile like that at every text or just when pretty boys with long hair text you?”
“You should see the smile I save for spam texts” you deadpan back at her. “Eliot wants to bring us all lunch if that’s alright with you.”
“He’s handsome, has a southern accent and he cooks? Should I be expecting the save the dates when I get back from my honeymoon?” The shit eating grin on her face widens at your clear embarrassment.
“So is that a yes on lunch?”
“Yeah, and tell him I said thank you.”
The hair stylist interrupts “Alright, you’re good to go and I’m ready for the bride.”
You swap places with your sister and grab your phone.
Y/n: She said she’d appreciate you bringing food.
Eliot: Perfect. I’ll be there in 30 and I’ll make y’all something fresh.
Y/n: Thanks! You’re the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had.
Your heart sinks in your chest as you read over your own words. It is for the best to stay reminded of the reality of the situation. It would only hurt more if you let yourself get fully lost in it. In just a couple of days everything will return to normal and you’ll still be pining after Eliot and he will remain blissfully unaware.
You try to brush off these thoughts and be present with the others and most importantly, your sister. You put your phone away and rejoin the conversation. “Eliot said he’ll be here in 30 to make us lunch.”
“Damn,” your sister’s maid of honor chimes in, “Where did you find him again and does he have any single friends?”
You and the others laugh at her joke. “I don’t know, with looks like that, I’m more interested to know if he has a brother.” adds in one of the bridesmaids.
Before long the makeup artist is done with the mother of the groom’s makeup and it is your turn in the chair. You settle in and try to distract yourself from Eliot’s imminent arrival by listening to the idle conversation the other women are having.
Part of you is excited that he’s showing up, in small part due to the rumble your stomach lets out, but mostly just because it’s Eliot, and you are a fool who couldn’t help falling head over heels for him. The minutes pass as you try to calm your ever increasing heart rate, but the moment you hear a rapping at the door, your heart begins practically beating out of your chest.
The artist only has your makeup a little over halfway done, so the maid of honor lets him in.He drops off an armful of groceries in the kitchen that the maid of honor leads him to and follows her back to the room you are all in.
He smiles softly at you, which you miss completely as the artist works on your eye makeup. “Hey beautiful,” he says, setting your cheeks ablaze, before turning to the rest of the room,”I should have lunch ready for you ladies in about 20 minutes.” With that he turns on his heel and leaves the room before you have a moment to reply.
The makeup artist makes quick work of the rest of your makeup as the girls chatter around you. Your sister in the chair next to you looks over at you and teases “Damn, y/n. If that’s how he looks at you when you’re not even done being dolled up, I don’t know how he’s gonna tear his eyes away from you long enough to even notice there’s a wedding happening around him in a couple hours.”
In lieu of being able to roll your eyes at your sister, you opt to flip her off.
A bridesmaid chimes in “No, she’s right y/n. That man is absolutely smitten with you.” For a moment, you almost let yourself believe it, but you know he was just playing it up for the girls. After all, that’s what you asked him to do.
Moments later the artist wraps up and finally you are free to go see Eliot in the kitchen. You quietly approach, and of course Eliot hears your steps and knows exactly who it is, but he pretends not to notice you standing in the doorway. He likes when you watch him and maybe he knows if he took the time to look at you right now, he wouldn’t be able to resist holding you in his arms again and you leaving this morning already nearly broke him.
You take in his frame, his arms flexing under his henley as he expertly chops up the last couple of vegetables in front of him, a few strands of his hair falling into his face from his half-ponytail, and those jeans that fit his ass just a little too well for your thoughts to remain pure. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re already in love with him because this almost vulnerable sight would be enough to make anyone fall for him. “Hey beautiful,” you parrot his earlier words back at him.
A goofy, lopsided smile crosses his face, as he puts the knife down and begins assembling sandwiches. He looks into your eyes, not daring to even let his eyes drift as far as your nose. “Hey,” he almost whispers “What can I do for you?”
“You’re already doing more than enough Eliot. I really just came in here to say thank you. Not just for this,” you gesture at the food, “but for this entire weekend. I know it’s a lot to ask of anyone and I really appreciate you doing this for me. I owe you one”
Returning his attention to the food he replies “You don’t owe me a damn thing sweetheart. I’m just happy to help.” He begins cutting the sandwiches into fourths diagonally, of course and you start taking them and placing them on the tray to at least help a little.
Your heart skips a beat when your hands graze against each other as he hands you the pieces that were on the other side of the knife. It is far from the most intimate touch you have had with him, but just like this morning, the private moments, even the unintentional ones, are a lot harder to brush off as part of the performance.
As you finish laying the different kind of sandwiches on the tray, he goes to the fridge and grabs a charcuterie board he had clearly made himself before you entered the kitchen. It was this sight that finally made your stomach let out a rumble. He looked you up and down before asking “Hungry?” with a smile.
“A little.” you joke in return.
He reaches around you to grab the sandwich tray. With both hands full, he leans over and kisses your cheek before replying “Then lead the way princess.”
And with that small act, clearly not an accident nor an act you were left reeling as you rejoin the others. He places the two platters on the table before “I will see you this evening, but I think your sister would be pissed if I show up to the wedding like this.”
Your sister laughs, “Well, he’s not wrong.”
With that, he takes his leave with a quick peck on your lips and a polite wave to the room. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you can only hope nobody can tell.
• • •
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think
Taglist: @mini-kunoichi @javicstories @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @being-worthy@xkell-bellx @imaginecrushes @sleeplessskeleton @fablesrose
#eliot spencer fanfic#eliot spencer x reader#eliot spencer/reader#leverage fanfic#eliot spencer#reader insert#female reader#leverage fic#the fake dating job#fake dating#wedding#wedding date#there was only one bed#and it’s natural consequences#Eliot Spencer is a big softie#eliot spencer cooking
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Hi! Love the writing. Could I please request Joel with teenage twins. I just think him being caught in the middle of two teenagers fighting about who stole who’s shirt and being scared for his life is hilarious and kind of sweet.
Holy shit i love this
Salad Days
Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader
Author's note: you know that video of Dave Grohl where he's talking about being a dad and the best part and he goes, "Having children that don't fucking care that you're a rockstar. My kids don't give a shit if I'm in the Foo Fighters. They're like 'Daddy, I need a smoothie 🙄 NOW." That's what this gives.
Summary: The T-Shirt Coup [1.2k]
Warnings: the girls are sixteen in this, that's literally it
"Sophia Parker and Violet Isabelle Miller! If you're not down here in five minutes, I'm leavin' without you!" You yell up the stairs. Joel chuckles from his place at the kitchen counter, shoveling cereal into his mouth like it's his last meal, and you give him a look. "What?"
"You had an accent when you yelled at them." He says. You scoff and walk over to him, stealing a sip of coffee from his mug.
"I did not."
"You totally did."
"Even if I did, which I didn't, you should take it as a compliment." You say, busying yourself with some mail left on the counter. You feel him raise his eyebrows before you see it, and he puts down his bowl to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into his chest until your shoulder presses into his sternum. You ignore him and his stupid Laker's shirt he knows you love and read the same letter from the girls' school over and over again.
"Yeah? Why's that?"
"I've been married to you for twenty-two years, and you're just now finally rubbing off on me. It's something to celebrate, really." You snark, and he laughs. It's one of his big, full laughs that makes him throw his head back. The sight makes your heart shine.
"You're an asshole." He says lovingly, taking the mail he knows you don't care about out of your hand and turning you so he can have your full attention.
"Yeah, yeah," you laugh as you lock your arms around his shoulders. "What do you have planned for today, Mr. Miller?" You ask, and he sighs.
"I gotta go into the studio. We just signed a new band, and we're havin' a meeting to talk about the next album," he says. Despite the annoyed tone he's adopted, you can see how excited he is about this new venture. He loves allowing new, young bands to make something fresh. He says it keeps him young. You know it's what he was meant to do all along. "What bout you? What're you doin' today, Mrs. Miller?"
"One of my old students has a project they want to pitch for me to produce. She's brilliant and an amazing writer, so I'm sure I'll say yes and shell out all our money."
"For the children," he says dramatically, and you laugh. "She's lucky to have you in her corner. I'm sure it'll be great." His words hit right where they need to, and you press yourself closer to him.
"You're a sap." Your words ghost over his lips, and his hand slides into your back pocket like always.
"Yeah, yeah." He breathes. You're less than an inch apart, and it wouldn't take much movement to actually kiss him, but you like being this close to him. You like counting all his freckles and watching him try to decide who will be the first to break. His lips barely graze yours when suddenly stomping feet and a loud argument make their way down the stairs and into the kitchen. You take a deep breath as you and Joel turn to look at the girls, who barely acknowledge how you're wrapped up in each other because they always see you being affectionate with each other. Joel Miller has not gotten more subtle about his PDA in his old age.
"Mom, please tell Violet this is my shirt!" Sophia demands, tugging on the fabric of a worn UT shirt.
"I literally wore it last week! You commented on it and everything!" Violet looks to you. "Do you remember, Mom? I was wearing it when we went to Trader Joe's on Thursday."
"That's true. You were," you say, making Sophia's jaw drop. Of the two, Sophia has always had a little more flair for the dramatics, something she definitely gets from you. On more than one occasion, Sophia has done or said something ridiculous, and Joel bursts out laughing because he thinks it's something you would do or say. "But Vi, I told you last week that you stole my shirt from my closet, and I wanted it back. I thought you were gonna, at least, wash it first."
"Ew! You didn't wash it?!" Sophia screeches.
"Of course, I did, dipshit! I just... forgot Mom wanted it back."
"Wait a second," Joel says, finally catching up with the argument. He looks between the shirt and the three of you before tilting his head to give you an are-you-fucking-serious-right-now look. "I've been lookin' for that for weeks! That's my shirt." He says. Suddenly, it all connects. You stole it from Joel. Violet stole it from you. Sophia stole it from Violet. As the realization settles over the room, Sophia walks over to Joel, puts her hand on his shoulder, and squeezes like a disappointed teacher.
"Our shirt."
"Communism shirt!" Violet yells, making you laugh so hard that you stumble against Joel.
"You can't just yell 'communism shirt' and expect me to not want my shirt back." He tries to argue.
"Dad! You're not listening. It's a community shirt. Get with the times, old man."
"Old man?!"
"Hey, I happen to think he's a very hot and sexy old man." You jump in, and the girls groan.
"Thank you, baby," Joel says as he kisses you firmly. The girls boo and pretend to cover their eyes in disgust, making you all laugh. You pull away from Joel, but he chases your lips for a few quick kisses until he finally lets you go.
"We're gonna be late if we keep talking about the communism shirt. Girls get in the car, please," you say, stealing one more sip of coffee from Joel's cup, and the girls groan in protest as they slip on their backpacks and walk to the front door. You smile as you look at Joel, alone again for just a second. "You gotta start hiding your shirts better otherwise, they're all gonna become Marxist property."
"This is somethin' they should really put in the parenting books," he says, and you laugh. He grabs your purse from the kitchen table for you and kisses you again as he slides it up your arm. "Love you."
"Love you, too. Let me know how the album meeting goes."
"Let me know how the pitch goes." He echoes. This is how much of your life has been together: letting each other go and make creative decisions while supporting them no matter how they play out. Many Hollywood couples get divorced because they can't learn how to give their partner the support and patience they need to create art. You and Joel have always been good about making sure the other feels supported and heard but not weighed down by differing artistic opinions or thoughts. He has his work, and you have yours, and you make it work. It's one of the reasons you love him so much. That and the fact that he still walks you to your car and opens the door for you after more than twenty years together. Granted, he smacks your ass in front of your daughters while you're climbing into the car, but that's par for the course.
He blows kisses to his teenage daughters in the backseat and waves as you roll down the driveway, standing there until you disappear around the corner. His cologne is imprinted on your shirt collar, and you can still feel his lips on yours when Sophia sits up in her seat.
"I can't believe Dad didn't know about communism shirt."
#rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader#one for the money two for the show#one for the money two for the show request#rockstar!joel#rockstar!joel was built to be a dad/husband#the last of us au#tlou au#joel miller au#joel miller fic#joel miller fluff#joel miller the last of us#joel miller x reader#joel miller series#tlou fluff#the last of us fluff
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nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 3 | 18+ only
hii everyone! thank you SO much for the incredible kindness youve shown me and sweet words so far! and thank you all for reading. i accidentally made this chapter longer than i intended to.. oops. i hope i am doing a good job at slow burning because ive struggled with that in the past. warnings: reader goes outside to smoke a cigarette. lol. enjoy and as always feedback fuels me!!
also, i wanted to let you all know that you can listen to the playlist i have been listening to as i work on this fic which is sort of a mix of stuff that reminds me of ken and stuff i think he'd like. idk i love when authors share what they listen to, so you can check that out here.
you can also reply to my posts or message me if you want to be tagged for updates. i am posting a masterlist today for ease of access.
tags: @heyareyoulistening @itsametaphorbriansblog @alyeria
In the span of one hour, you absorbed more information and somehow became more confused the longer Ken spent investigating every inch of your apartment. You explained to him that you did not own this entire building, and that only one unit was allotted to you, but this still impressed Ken.
“Are you friends with all your neighbors?” He asked, squinting closely at the magnets on your fridge, touching them and flipping frantically through the notepad you used for grocery lists, like he needed to see more of your handwriting, more of the things you used every day. Ken murmured to himself as he took in the words: flour, one dozen eggs, croissants.
You’d reinstated yourself at your dining table with your work laptop, creating an elaborate lie for your supervisor as to why you missed the weekly team check in. My cousin’s dog was assaulted by a rabid possum and we had to take him to the emergency vet, please excuse my brief absence… I’m happy to work overtime to accommodate this inconvenience… He was only a puppy…
So on and so forth. You were confident you could schmooze your way out of a write up. Ken couldn’t stand still, couldn’t contain himself – had whizzed through the front door when you unlocked it, bouncing off the walls with questions and comments that flowed freely.
“No, I’m not friends with all my neighbors. There’s gotta be at least forty other people that live here. Are you?”
“I know all the Kens. We are not all friends. But I know all of them.”
“You’re all named Ken.”
“No. There’s Allans.”
“Right.”
Ken gleefully picked up each cookbook stacked on top of a low hanging shelf, tearing through each one and making tiny astonished faces at each new dish he was introduced to. Recipes on the sweeter side piqued his interest – cinnamon rolls, pastries, cookies. You had suspended disbelief long enough to just let Ken do this, let him touch everything even if he moved your belongings out of place. It wasn’t typical for you to have a man over, let alone one who was learning how the natural human world worked. (And had to ask you with stars in his eyes what ovens were for.)
“These pancakes look divine. They’re putting all kinds of stuff in these. I didn’t know you could put blueberries in them. They taste good, right?” You craned your neck to get a look at the recipe he was referring to.
“If you’re a decent cook! You just have to pay attention to what you’re doing, measuring, how long things stay on the stove. It’s like that for anything you cook. I’m not great with pancakes, for some reason I always tend to burn them.”
“So what’s your favorite food?” Ken asks, setting the book down and taking to the fridge, flinging the doors wide open and surveying each salad dressing, bottle of water, every can of cold brew coffee. He ran his fingers along the labels, as if reading braille, receiving telepathic information about these products from just handling them. It was an odd sight. Everything he held looked so small in his hands.
“Er… I guess I really like sushi. But I haven’t had it in awhile. Trying to save money, make a habit of eating at home. And I just like to make simple things.”
“What’s in sushi?” Ken’s rotating a banana in his hands, picking at the stem to see what it does.
“A lot of things. Usually raw fish. Rice that sticks together to make a shape, seaweed, different kinds of sauces.” It’s making you laugh, seeing Ken size up this banana with a puzzled look on his face. “Do you want to try eating that?”
He shifts uncomfortably, placing the fruit back down on the counter like it had offended him. “We have these in Barbieland but they are not nearly as squishy. Ours are rock hard. And not brown!”
Ken was right – that banana was probably past its prime, but you hadn’t cleaned out the fridge in a few days. You’d gotten sick of refreshing your inbox waiting for a reply from your supervisor, so you got up and pulled a knife from the drawer, setting the squishy banana on a paper towel to cut it.
“Here. Try this,” you cut through the peel and divide up a small end slice into two pieces, holding one out to Ken who seems frightened by it, squares his shoulders.
“There’s something inside that peel?”
“Go ahead, just take a bite! You might like it, how else will you find out what you like?”
“But (Y/N), I’m not… hungry.”
“That’s okay. It’s a very small slice, I promise it’ll be alright, Ken.”
His eyes flash with trust at the promise you’ve just made him, so he abandons his apprehension and plops the bit into his mouth. It’s like watching a baby bird clamor for its mother’s offering of regurgitated seed and berry mix. Ken doesn’t instinctively chew, he just lets it sit in his mouth like he’s waiting for the fruit to do something. You raise up the other banana slice, catch his eye and show him how to chew, slowly, and then swallow.
Ken nods, although his movements are strange and exaggerated, but eventually allows a smile. “That was pretty good. Mushy.” He searches your face to see if he’s given the correct answer, which is even funnier to you than him trying food for the first time.
“Did you like it? Bananas are on the sweet side.”
“Definitely. I think I really like them. Can I have the rest of it?”
“So you can taste!”
Ken grins to himself, gives you a proud stance and swaggers to the side, popping his hip out as he starts cutting up the rest of the fruit.
“Oh, yeah. I can taste everything. Nothing I can’t taste.”
“When I go to the store next I can get you some more sweet foods. But you can’t just eat sweets. Fruit is naturally sweet, but for example, you can’t just have ice cream and brownies all the time. Your body will hate you for that.”
“And I can make you pancakes with bananas.” Ken adds, cocky as ever, already physically spreading himself out in your kitchen like he owns the place, thighs open and easy and confident as he leans back. He adjusts quickly to new situations, you’re discovering, with none of the social anxiety most people might feel.
“Let’s save the cooking and… turning on the stovetop… for when I can teach you. It can be dangerous if you’re not familiar with what to do.”
“But what if I want to surprise you, (Y/N)? You wouldn’t want to ruin it, would you?”
“I’d rather ruin the breakfast than have you accidentally catch my apartment building on fire.”
Ken considers this, starts chewing at the rest of the banana slices while still committed to looking cool as he does so. “You’re so right. So, where do you think I should sleep?”
You put some distance between the two of you, since proximity to the blonde had begun to make you feel inexplicably self conscious, and sit back down at your laptop. You hadn’t gotten this far, hadn’t decided where Ken could stay and if he was even going to stay. Stay for what? A crash course in becoming a member of society? Turn him into the perfect roommate who’s convinced you’re dating now? And how in the hell were you qualified to teach him anything about life, fulfillment, health or success when you were far from the epitome of any of those?
“I thought you said you didn’t get tired.”
“There’s something I need to tell you about,” the sudden change in Ken’s tone caught you off guard, so after taking a brief glance at your emails again and confirming nothing of substance had arrived, you folded your hands in your lap and turned your body towards him, anticipatory and patient.
“When Barbie went to the real world, almost everything about her changed. She still looked like herself, but… it was different. She told us that she got a cold.” Ken gestured to his nose, crinkling it up in dismay. “Sniffling. She had to use tissues.”
“You’re worried about getting sick?”
“No, not… right now.” Ken tried again, attacking it from a different angle. “Barbie said the longer she was here, the more she kept changing. Barbies never got sick before. But she had to see a human doctor, and she started making her own food and eating it. Sandwiches. And her flat feet never went away.” Ken’s distress was evident, but you weren’t sure what he was getting at, couldn’t see what panicked him so much about this topic.
“I don’t understand. What are you saying, Ken?” You tried to keep yourself casual, so as not to freak him out even further; he’d already begun pacing, boots clacking against your kitchen tile with each step.
“I’m saying that the longer I stay here, the less I’m going to be like… how I was.” He sounded so unsure, on the precipice of a conclusion, fearful of what he might learn. “Don’t you get it? I’ll have to brush my hair. Call the dentist. Pay taxes. Wear deodorant. I might get a breakout on my chin, just like Barbie did.” The last part sounded like the nail in the coffin for Ken, who looked weak just recalling the memory.
“Taxes? But you don’t have a job, do you? For all the city knows, you don’t even exist.”
“That’s not the point, (Y/N)! I’ll have to get a job.”
“Sorry, I’m sorry. So… it sounds like you’ll become less like a doll?”
“Exactly. And I’ll have to do it alone.” Ken was silent, pensive as you let his confession settle. Perhaps it wasn’t the changes that he dreaded.
It was doing it without any support.
“I see. So you’ll have to sleep. You’ll have to eat. Is that scaring you?” Your intention was to minimize these facts of daily human life, shrink them down to manageable tasks, not to trivialize his valid concerns.
Ken hollowed his cheek, bit the skin in between his teeth and looked around for something to focus on while he reflected on what you asked. Noticing the cage you had set up for your guinea pig, Ken crouched in front of it without so much as a knee crack, raising his eyebrows up inquisitively.
“Who’s this?”
“I should’ve introduced you to her earlier. She’s my guinea pig, her name’s Willa. See her long hair? It’s really beautiful, but she’s pretty high maintenance.”
Sounds like someone else in this room.
Being so close to Willa appeared to calm Ken down, and you watched his shoulders drop slightly, saw the veins in his neck depress, growing less agitated. “Does she have to brush her hair?”
The cookbooks, grocery lists, the banana had inspired Ken to ask countless questions, but meeting Willa, Ken merely watched in quiet awe.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his purported jab. “I help her with it every day. She’s got a special little brush.”
“Hers is longer than mine. At least she gets some assistance.”
Ken sighs deeply, not taking his eyes off tiny caramel colored Willa, who has no idea what’s happening, just lounges in the paper substrate fleece and wiggles her nose up at the blonde staring her down. He rubs meager circles on his knees as if to soothe himself, then sighs again, long and dramatic. From minute to minute, Ken’s moods shift so drastically – he could be lovingly describing his newfound obsession with bananas and then just as easily pivot to jealousy over a guinea pig receiving grooming services from its owner. Decoding him was like whiplash.
“Ken?”
“I’ve been putting off thinking about this part.”
“You mean losing your doll-ness?”
“Yeah.” Ken’s voice is small, terrified, unbefitting of how he presented himself. Put together, well dressed, toned, tanned, oozing with charm. It all dissipated with his answer.
With your foot, you push out the dining table chair adjacent to you, the scrape spooking Ken as he jumps. “Why don’t you come sit here and talk with me? You can bring Willa, she likes making friends. Just be mindful of her.” Nervous, Ken obliges, sticks a hand into her enclosure and waits for Willa to crawl over to him.
To your shock, she comes without a moment’s hesitation, nosing at his palm and blinking at him. Willa ardently disapproved of your last boyfriend, and she never seemed to like the odd hookup you’d bring over after your explosive breakup. She’d ignore any man in the apartment for the most part, but you couldn’t believe how easy it had been for her to warm up to Ken, snuggling up to him already.
“Wow. She normally doesn’t like strangers.”
“Looks like she prefers your friends. She’s so soft,” Ken notes, temporarily forgetting about the needling anxiety he’d been expressing to you, and sits down. At your table Ken seemed larger than life, so full of color and irresistible personality. The most interesting irregularity you had ever entertained. He flattened the backs of his hands on the placemat and smiled down shyly at Willa, gentle like he was convinced the tiniest movement could hurt her.
(A smile that had the power to devastate – could ruin your life, could make you want to throw it all away just to know him; a smile that Ken saved specifically for a defenseless creature that nibbed at his thumbnail.)
“Go ahead and pet her! They like that,” you encouraged Ken, denying the lump in your throat, who obeys and brings a steady forefinger to Willa’s back, warily petting her in one stunted action. Willa rustles, but doesn’t flee or make any noises contesting his presence. “She might try to run away, so just make sure you keep an eye on her.”
“I promise I will, (Y/N). How old is she?”
“She’s two and a half.” You raise your eyes to Ken, who’s entranced by the small animal and her lustrous coat, indifferent to his surroundings now that he’s connected with this hairy comrade. “How old are you?”
“I have no idea. How old are you?”
This shouldn’t have surprised you at this point. Nothing could catch you off guard now as you went down the list, dedicating yourself wholly to figuring out what to do with this guy. Given how unadjusted he is to the world, is Ken your responsibility now? What would happen to him if he went out, unprepared, unassimilated, and tried to do things like get a job, buy something from the store? Had he ever seen currency before?
Would you have to teach Ken math? You failed calculus. More than once. This wasn’t boding well.
“I’m twenty five. You don’t have a birthday?”
“What’s that?”
“It’s how you keep track of your age. Could you look at me for a second? Maybe I can try and guess.” Ken’s reluctant to stop looking at Willa, but does as you say, and it strikes you to admire him overtly like this, free from the guise of contrived modesty, not hiding how strongly you want to see him. He’s open, almost tranquil, those wide eyes continuously following yours, every single aspect of his demeanor softening the more you drink him in.
You couldn’t help but freeze. Pinning him. You could hear the robins chirping outside on the patio. Buses shuttling along on the road outside. Your blood pumping in your fingers, the hot curl of desire in your stomach. At once, everything felt vibrant, felt… exceptional.
Because of him.
Blonde angel, almost porcelain. Kind with your pet. Enthralled with the simplest items you owned. Eager to assist you with any task, however minor. Naively trusting.
Blind to the ways this world could twist and chew you up. Brand new.
You wouldn’t ever be the source of pain for Ken. In that moment, searching his stark blue eyes for an answer to a question you couldn’t articulate, you wrote it on your heart, that no matter what happened – whether Ken stayed in your life, as a friend or something more – you would never hurt him.
You don’t even remember what you were trying to do with him. Mesmerized, you simply just enjoyed the sight, at a loss for words. What was there to say that wouldn’t fizzle out and die on your lips?
How are you real? (He wasn’t.)
How did you get here? (He’d waited for you.)
Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?
“(Y/N)? Did you calculate it yet? Maybe it’ll be easier if I unbutton my jacket. Willa, stay put, I need to do something,” It flew over your head, you couldn’t hear what he said, just gawked and felt your pulse thrum as Ken started to undo the top of his denim jacket. Deft fingers working, you had to be aware of how affected you looked. You couldn’t hide it.
To see more of Ken’s chest physically pained you – it hurt to look, hurt to squirm and act like it wasn’t overwhelming, burning you up. He showed off his defined, carved muscle, smooth and enticing like a joke or something.
Willa sniffed the salt and pepper shaker, not moving even a millimeter away from Ken as he undid the last button with a muffled pop.
Where wisps of blonde hair would’ve led down to the tip of Ken’s waistband, there was nothing, just more of that milky white skin, blameless and pure and teasing. Where ribs should have anatomically been, his chest expanded then deflated, ripples of flesh rolling, then relaxing.
All of him on display. All of him so… bare.
Well – not all of him. Not yet.
You hadn’t felt anything like this before, not ever. You were experienced – you weren’t uneducated when it came to sex, or… pleasure. Yet it was impossible that you’d felt true desire in the past, even for the man you’d fallen in love with and been betrayed by, because those memories shriveled in comparison to what you felt in this moment, seeing Ken like this, expectant and unrestrained and so fiercely magnetizing. You saw your future, you saw his body, you saw Ken’s long eyelashes fluttering and pretty like a girl’s, and it was too fucking much, louder than your heart slamming inside your chest.
You began to question if you were even real. If this was happening. Maybe you were the lifeless doll. Harsh stings peppered out along the slope of your neckline – for the second time since meeting Ken, did that really just happen today? – and you made the horrible mistake of telling him the truth just as he was starting to visibly fidget, awaiting your reply.
“(Y/N)? Is this helping? If not, I can –”
“You’re so goddamned gorgeous. Fuck.”
“What?” Ken blinked, taken aback. He looked like he wanted to say more, to press you, but he couldn’t form a response.
“I’m. Jesus. I am so sorry, Ken. That wasn’t appropriate at all. I’m… supposed to be helping you. I’m sorry.” Dizzyingly, you shot to your feet, dug your heels against the floor just to feel grounded, and reached over the table for your purse.
Weren’t you the one supposed to be in charge of boundaries? Teaching Ken how to act, how not to rush things when you met someone you wanted to get to know?
Ken had flushed a deep shade of peach, an obvious blush that mottled his neck and spread out to his clavicles, nearly reaching his shoulder tips.
“Did I do something wrong? Can you please tell me what it was?” Ken urged, pupils the size of saucers and still dancing to follow your every move. His face was frantic, lips parted revealing more of his perfect teeth, just another element of his perfect face, everything so perfect about him, and your headache threatened to return in full force.
“No – no, you didn’t, Ken. I promise. I just need to go outside and smoke, it’s not your fault, okay? Can you please stay here with Willa? I’ll only be a minute.”
Ken clearly didn’t know what you meant, or what smoking entailed, but he stayed fused to the chair, biting at his lip again in fragile confusion and not daring to abandon Willa. Fumbling for your lighter through the fabric, you caught the unmistakable downturn of rejection swimming across his features, and the notion that you might have inadvertently let him down made you sicker than the intense wave of lust that had just crashed over you, almost crumbling you, reducing you to nothing but a star cursed to orbit a bigger, more important planet.
#ken#ryan gosling#ken barbie#barbie movie#ken x reader#ken x fem reader#ryan gosling ken#female reader
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