#after I said no to Mac and cheese and a sandwich he was like ‘so you don’t want carbs’

[sturniqlo]

Positive-C.S

summary: y/n and chris find out their expecting a baby

cw: bit angst, fluff, young parent pregnancy, panic attack, crying

an: she's a short one so she's a blurb

masterlist | positive masterlist

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It's been about a week since Y/n started to feel sick. First, she woke up one day and had the urge to throw up so she ran to the bathroom and threw up everything she had the night prior. She thought nothing of it, maybe the food she had eaten sat the wrong way. Then, certain smells she used to once love made her gag, and yet again run to the bathroom.

Her favorite perfume Chris has gifted her for her twentieth birthday made her nauseous. She couldn't bare the smell on her, so she ran to the bathroom, threw up, took a shower and tossed her perfumed clothes in the washer. During this time, Chris was away in Boston visiting his parents and he had no idea any of this was happening until he facetimed her and saw her pale face.

"Hey ba- woah, you're pale. You feeling okay?" Chris said when he saw his girlfriend's pale face and under eye bags. She shook her head. "No, I've had this stomach bug for the past four days. I can't keep down anything I eat besides water and fruit." She pouts. "Was it what we had for dinner before I left?" He asks, shifting in his bed, worrying for his girlfriend's wellbeing. "I think so, it's messed me up pretty bad."

When Chris returned the following week, she was the same, only a bit better. She was able to keep down more foods like a ham and cheese sandwich, cereal, mac and cheese, and smoothies. The day after Chris had came back, he stayed at Y/n's place and made eggs in the morning. She woke to the smell and threw up in the bathroom. For the next hour, all windows were open to air out the smell. That's when Chris started to get suspicious.

Week three, it had been three weeks that Y/n has been with this mysterious sickness. Chris couldn't help but ask. "Are you sure you're okay? Do we have to go to the doctor?" He asked one day that week. "I'm okay, it's probably just my period, it should be coming any day now." She brought her knees up to her chest. Chris came close to her and wrapped his arms around her. She inhaled the scent of his cologne loving it, which is why she bought it for him on a random day. However, this time when she inhaled his scent, she became nauseous. Y/n pushed him off and ran to her bathroom.

"Hey, you're okay." Chris grabbed her hair and formed it into a makeshift ponytail with the hair tie he had on his wrist as she emptied everything she had in her into the toilet. "You want some water, baby?" He asked her as she flushed the toilet and sat against the shower door. "Please." She said, throwing her head back. Chris went to her kitchen, and opened the fridge grabbing his a cold water. As he closed the fridge, she caught eye of her calendar on the fridge door. blood bath begins :( is marked for the 13th of the month. He quickly pulled out his phone and checked the date.

It was the 22nd. He gasped. He quickly realized he was taking too long so he went back to Y/n. "Here you go." Chris opened the water for her and handed it to her. She had moved to the wall across the sink so he sat down on the floor next to her. "Babe, I don't want to scare you or anything but, are you sure you're not pregnant?" Y/n chokes on her water. "What? No, I'm about to get my period around the thirteenth." She looks at him. "Y/n, it's the twenty second." Her face falls. "No- no it's not." She pats on her pockets for her phone but she doesn't feel it. "Look at the date." Chris pulls his phone out from his pocket. Quickly, she grabs his phone and turns it on looking straight up at the date.

It's the twenty second. She has the same reaction as Chris and gasps. "Chris, how- how did I not notice. Oh my god." She puts her head in her hands. "Hey, hey, hey, it's going to be okay. I'll run to the store down the street and buy a couple of tests okay? Whatever the result is you have the final decision okay? And we'll get through it together." Chris brings her to his chest. "Okay." She manages to squeak out.

Chris run his hands through his hair as he power walks to the Walgreens that is luckily down the street from Y/n apartment complex. Back home, Y/n struggles to walk to the couch. Her mind runs through every possible situation that can happen. It can be positive and Chris can leave her and want nothing to do with her or the bab- No! She stopped herself from that thought. He said they'll get through this together. Her breathing get more uneven as she reaches the couch. She struggles to breathe as the tears stream down her face. She tries her hardest to take deep breaths, in 1,2,3, out 1,2,3. That doesn't help. She looks around her living room and tries to spot five things she can see and say out loud.

"Pic- picture of me and Chris on our one year anniversary. Chris' hoodie on the arm- arm rest. My green rug Chris bought me. Tulips I picked out last week." It starts working, her breathing is finally back to normal and she wipe her sweaty hands on her sweats. She takes a couple of minutes to herself before getting up to distract herself while Chris comes back.

What seemed like hours, only ten minutes had passed, Chris finally walked through the front door with a bag in his hand. "Did you get them?" Y/n run to him. "Yeah, I got multiple." She grabs the bag from him and goes into the bathroom. After peeing on all four sticks, she opens the bathroom door and is met with Chris standing right in front. "Now we wait." She lets him in. She automatically wraps her arms around his middle and her his wrap around her neck. Bending his head down to kiss the top of it. "Chris, promise you won't leave me if it's a positive." She lifts her head off of his chest.

"Baby, I promise with all my heart, I will never, okay? Like I said we're in this together." He reassured her. During the next five minutes, Chris tries to distract her, talking about random things. Telling her random facts about animals Matt had told him the other day. "I think it's time, Chris." They unwrap their arms from one another. "Okay." They both grab two and Chris counts down. "We flip them at one okay?" She nods "3, 2, 1." They flip them.

||, Pregnant, +

"Holy shit, I'm pregnant." Y/n places the sticks back down on the sink and begins to well up with tears. "Come here." Chris places the two he had down and opens his arms up for her. "Chris, what are we going to do. We only just- just turned twenty." She cried. "We'll figure it out, alright." He spoke into her hair. "Do you want to keep it?" He asks. "I- Yes, I want to." She looks up at him and slightly smiles and he smiles too. "We're having a baby." He says.

"We're having a baby." She confirms.

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do we want a mini series on this??

[letorip]

casual [iii]

"i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself, hate that i let this drag on so long, you can go to hell"

===+++===

pairing: natalie scatorccio x reader

summary: you're not just going to let her go, this time. after long enough, you arrive at the very obvious conclusion that you're in love, and there's very little else to be done about that

warnings: mentions of sex, cuss words, a bit of angst but i promise a happy ending :)

word count: 7.2k

A/N: all good things must come to an end. trust, i'll write for nat again. also i stayed in that airport so fucking long it was like purgatory, and i'm so sorry it took longer than i thought, i've had an exhausting past two weeks and just needed to stop and breathe for a minute

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THAT ONE ANON I FEEL BAD I'M LATE

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===+++===

"Please tell me you didn't do it on my sheets," Lottie groaned, lip curled in disgust and eyes hidden by her sunglasses.

"Sorry," you said back from behind your own pair, without looking away from the crystal blue of her pool water. You both were splayed out on her sun-bleached deck chairs, with matching hangovers (and bathrobes) that made the bright, beaming sunlight a whole new level of awful.

Her house was in disarray around you both, with crushed beer cans and overturned chairs all across the pool deck. Some cigarette butts floated in the water and you were certain the sprinklers in her garden were misting a pile of vomit and washing it down the front of her lawn, but neither of you made a move to get up and deal with it yet.

At the far end of the Matthews' pool, there was a statue of a mermaid that doubled as a fountain, spitting water in a gentle stream. Someone had put a snapback that said 'I <3 BOOBIES' on her and a bit of lipstick around the area that water shot out, and though usually you would have laughed, you instead were a bit annoyed by how it was taking you out of what would've been a nice scene.

There was just something about waking up and seeing Nat had gone without any sort of indication, that sparked the sudden urge within you to reconnect with nature. So you were reconnecting— more like brooding— on Lottie's pool deck in a peaceful silence.

After what felt like thirty minutes but was probably more like five, she turned to you. "Do you wanna—”

“—Talk about it?” you finished, raising your eyebrows. You shook your head. “No.”

She pouted. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to make pancakes.”

“Oh… then yes.”

You both lazily trudged into her equally wrecked kitchen, with even more cans and spilled liquids thrown over her marble counters. There was a burnt bag of popcorn sitting in the sink and the garbage can underneath it was overflowing with paper towels, but Lottie's kitchen was big enough where you could ignore it entirely, jumping up to sit on the clean countertop near her massive range cooker.

When Lottie said 'make pancakes,' she really meant she would be the one cooking and you would be there for moral support, if anything. You were gifted in many things but cooking or anything of the sort had never been one of them. Instead you leaned your head against the massive stone hood, and watched her from the pair of sunglasses you still wore.

Nat had laughed at you, when you said you didn't know how to cook. Not an omelette, not mac and cheese, and barely a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Of course, you assumed the last one wouldn't be hard to figure out, but you hadn't ever made one before, and it made her laugh into your chest, where her head had been resting. It hurt a bit now, but you had the sunglasses to shield your eyes while you stared off into space.

"Chocolate chips?" Lottie asked, running a hand through her dark hair and combing out a few knots with her fingers. You nodded, and she turned back to the pan in front of her, grabbing a fancy looking bag from a stack of supplies nearby. "My dad brought fresh chocolate back with him from when he was in the Caribbean a few weeks ago," she said to you, sprinkling it into the pan and flipping it over.

"Is he going to be pissed you're using it for pancakes?" you mumbled, feeling your headache return.

"No more pissed than he'll be when he sees that Jeff and his friends cut off the leg on one of his horse-shaped hedges." You winced, hopping down from the counter and feeling your back still scraped raw from, well, Nat. Lottie shot you a look. "That heated, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, heading towards the kitchen island and grabbing some of the beer cans to toss in the rubbish. "She's made her decision clear. I'm honestly done with it. I don't care anymore."

Lottie didn't say anything, turning back to the pancakes and sliding them on a plate as you slid into the barstool at the other end of her island and rested your head on your elbows. "I mean, she called me selfish, Lottie, and then said she loved me multiple times, minutes later. Who the hell does that?"

"Mhm," she hummed, sticking her spatula and the pan in the sink and then moving to the walk in pantry to grab syrup and powdered sugar.

You watched her go, calling after her. "She disappears for days after she gets mad about me talking to people, and then I see her immediately with Bobby Farleigh of all people, and they're cuddling up! I'm done with it all."

"Okay," Lottie said, reappearing with her arms full and tossing them down on the kitchen island. She clambered up into the seat next to you and stole some of the plain ones for herself, before covering them in syrup.

"And," you continued, remembering something else as you began cutting up the pancakes and smothering them in powdered sugar, "she egged my fucking house! How could I even forget about that? I mean, what was I thinking? I don't want to talk about her."

"Oh yeah," Lottie snorted. "You really don't want to talk about her."

You shot her a glare, stuffing your mouth with an angry fork. "I'm serious, Lottie."

"You wish," she scoffed. "If you were serious— and I'm not trying to be mean— but if you were serious, you wouldn't be ranting all about her. I know you keep saying it's impossible and it can't happen with her, but you sure as hell seem like you want it to happen with her."

You frowned, taking a forkful and stuffing it into your mouth. Right as you did, a couple sheepishly walked down the hall and towards the front door, clothes obviously messed up. They sent you an awkward wave and Lottie gave a quick nod in their direction, turning back to her plate. "Then why'd she leave?" you asked, when the door was shut behind them.

She shrugged. "Why the hell would I know? If anyone here would be the Natalie-whisperer, it would be you."

"Yeah well, apparently not," you huffed, shoving more pancakes into your mouth.

"I mean, it's not like you guys were on glowing terms before you... y'know. Wasn't gonna magically all be fixed, after." You groaned, leaning your forehead down onto the cool marble countertops. It actually felt nice, against your raging headache, but you still felt like crap.

"Would've at least been nice for her to wait until I woke up to go. No 'goodbye,' no 'we should talk,' nothing. When we were just hooking up and stuff, I at least always waited to say goodbye."

"So it's not just hooking up, anymore?"

"I don’t know what it is, Lottie. You tell me, because apparently everyone knows but me." She shrugged, finishing her plate and pushing it away from herself.

"I have an answer, but you're not gonna like it."

"...No, I'm not in love with her."

"You absolutely are."

"I'm done with this!"

"You keep saying that."

"'Cause I am."

"Okay."

"I'm done," you frowned, attempting finality in your tone and coming far short.

"Right," she snorted, and then she stood to grab your now-finished plate too. "Can you help me?”

It took around three hours, to get the Matthews house back to its usual formality. You sprayed burnt and disturbed bushes with the hose, threw out bag upon bag of party rubbish, and vacuumed cigarette butts off the carpet of her living room, silently working while Lottie played some records on her grandfather's old gramophone.

Her dad usually put jazz records on it or snooty classical music, whenever you were over, but Lottie had Dancing Queen blasting throughout her house and was hopping around as she snatched stuff off the mantle and shoved it into bags, turning to you and yelling a lyric from time to time, along to the music.

This wasn't your idea of fun by a long shot, but you could appreciate Lottie trying to make it fun.

"So, how much convincing did you have to do, to get Laura Lee here at a party? I mean, with the alcohol," you asked with a snort, grabbing an almost empty bag of crisps and tossing yourself down in her father's leather armchair to finish them off.

Lottie flushed. "A really embarrassing amount," she admitted. "I kind of glazed over that part."

"I'll bet she was surprised?" you asked with an amused crunch.

"It wasn't even that— this guy from my third period started going at it with this girl right in front her. I had to literally stop her from going over there to talk to them about waiting until marriage."

You shrugged. "I mean, she seems to like you a whole lot."

"She does," Lottie nodded. "She's so sweet to me, and she has the best hand to hold, like, ever."

"Honestly, I'm surprised, but happy for you. You're in a big ol' throuple with Jesus Christ."

"Ha ha," Lottie rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at you. "At least whatever we have is holy. I don't even want to think about you and—"

But whatever dig she would've said was cut off by her doorbell ringing. You sighed, letting your feet down from where you had propped them up on the side table and wiping the crumbs on your bathrobe.

"I'll get it," you grumbled, leaving Lottie to clean. When you opened the door there was absolutely no way you could've prepared to see her so soon.

Nat stood awkwardly in the entryway, looking just as surprised to see you as you were to see her. She wore a pair of blue shorts she practiced and slept in, and staring right back at you was the shirt you thought had gone missing weeks ago, barely hidden behind the ratty zip up hoodie she had over it.

Her eyeliner was still smudged from the night before in places, and you stared at her blankly, waiting for her to say something— anything, really.

"I forgot my damn lighter," she said, casting her eyes to the floor after a moment.

"Oh," you replied, feeling a bit stupid suddenly, in your bathrobe and sunglasses, with your flip flops for shoes. You looked like you were mid-spa day, or like someone's drunk uncle on a cruise. Then, before you could stop yourself, you felt an annoyance twinge in your gut, and said "Is that all you've got to say?"

Her eyes shot up, looking challengingly at you, in what was a clear frustration. "What do you want me to say?" But the answer went unsaid, even as much as you didn't like it. That you came back for me.

"I don't know..."

"Great," Nat scoffed. She looked over your shoulder into Lottie's house, as if her lighter would appear behind you and jump right into her hand, and she would just be able to leave. "Can I just have my—"

"—Why did you egg my house?" you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to block the door a bit more. She raised her eyebrows at you, confused.

"What?"

"You egged my house, after our argument," you repeated, slower, feeling the tips of your ears burning.

"No the hell I didn't."

"Yes the hell you did," you argued back, leaning forward with your hands on your hips. "You're the only one with the gate code. I get it, you were mad, but—"

"—Fucking Christ, I didn't!"

"You wrote a giant 'fuck you' on my house. No one else would."

Nat glared. "I didn't invent it. Is it such an impossible thing for you to consider that maybe not everyone is Team (Y/n)? I don't mean to break your brain, but for once somebody might actually dislike you."

You rolled your eyes. "You're the only one with a history of breaking rules and doing shit."

"So, what, you think I would do that to you?"

"Maybe you would. Maybe you don't care about me at all. That's why you ran off, wasn't it?"

She narrowed her eyes at you. "I had to go, before my dad caught me out."

You shook your head. "Bullshit. You've stayed out, before."

"Oh, so now you're mad that I'm not cuddling up to you?"

"That's not cuddling, that's having me stick my fingers in you and then you run off. You were pissed at me a few days before, Nat, for literally the same thing."

"It's almost like it's confusing, (Y/n), when you get mixed signals. And no, I got pissed at you because you went shopping for girlfriends— which, I'm assuming because you're being an oblivious, self-righteous asshole, you're still doing."

"Yep, still looking," you glared at her. She glared right back, just as steely.

"Great."

"Great," you replied. It was annoying, how good she looked when she was frustrated. She was great at looking mad, and even better at looking good when she was mad. The furrowing of her eyebrows, wrinkling of her nose in anger; she had the face you wanted to kiss away. It was impossible not to wonder, if doing so would uncurl her fists and smooth out the lines on her forehead.

Then you stopped. Holy shit. Everything seemed awful, like a massive case of vertigo had just washed over you. You had had hangovers before, but this somehow seemed infinitely worse. See, a thought had finally self-realised itself within your little peanut brain.

I'm in love with Nat.

It made the ceiling feel like the floor, and Nat sent you a concerned glance and seemed about to question your change in expression, when Lottie came from behind you.

"Hey, Nat," she said with an awkward smile, brushing past you with a look and then handing her the lighter quickly. "Excited for nationals?”

"Yeah," Nat nodded, but her eyes were still glaring at you. She cleared her throat, finally looking off. "Thanks, Lot. Great party."

"Mhm," Lottie nodded, trying her best to seem at ease and not at all like she was walking in on a code-red situation. "Have a great weekend! Bye now! Get home safe! See you!" She rushed, tugging you from beyond the doorway and giving a wave, before shutting the door.

The moment the door was closed, she gave you an unappreciative stare, but your eyes were wide and your cheeks flushed.

"What?" asked Lottie, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"I...I think I'm in love with her."

===+++===

Your home was just as empty as it was when you had left the night before. Reginald wasn't even due to come in, since your mother and father weren't home and it was a Saturday. Even the groundskeeper and maid had the day off, and the groan you let out at finally returning home and falling onto the warm rug on your living room floor echoed against the walls of your empty house.

In your hand was the letter you found in your mailbox. A cool black and Princeton-orange colour. You already knew what it said, without even looking into it. Your father and mother went there. His father and mother, too. For years and years and years. And now, if you followed the rules set out in front of you, you too.

It was impossible not to wonder, when the fog of privilege would slowly cloud your brain. Would it be the law degree from a private school, or legacy admissions? The more frightening thing was that maybe Nat was right: it had already set in, and you unaware. You at least felt different than the rest of them. That made you different, right? You and Lottie?

The image of Nat seemed ever-prevalent. Glowering at you, like she had been in the doorway. In your shirt. With that frown. The frown that you wanted to kiss away, but would never be able to. A Scatorccio, of all people. Of all people, you had to be in love with the one person you couldn't have.

It felt simultaneously like life had resolved into something more clear and understandable, and something more depressing and doomed. You wanted to forget the realisation, and the acceptance as well. Maybe it was truly better when you were promising your friends that you felt nothing of the sort.

Your eyes flitted from where they stared at the ceiling over to the giant brown bookcase in the corner, stacked high with thick volumes of what your dad had once said were family records, but you had never grabbed one off yourself. The one that stuck out against the brown leather-bound books was a more sleek, grey memoir with your grandfather’s name printed onto the hard cover casing.

That one you had read— your father had made you read it, when you were fourteen, and your parents gave up on trying for another kid. It wasn’t as dreadfully boring as you thought it would be, but it was still a memoir about a stuffy stockbroker from the 80s, with all the parts involving cocaine conveniently edited out, but not your grandfather’s insane escapades with women.

Your father was in the process of writing his own edition, and had thereby implied that he expected you to write one for yourself. You didn't know what you could possibly write about, but then again there was the expectation you write about it anyway. You weren't a guy on Wall Street, you weren't an international businessperson. You didn't even know what you were going to school for, yet.

Next to the bookshelf in equal intimidation was a painting of your family that your father had commissioned years ago. It was back when you still had braces and acne, but thankfully the artist had removed both. You hadn't been allowed to smile for it, though that's what child-you thought you did for pictures. Instead, you and your parents' mouths were drawn into disapproving lines and hardened expressions, and the golden plaque at the bottom wore your surname in proud, powerful letters.

You sighed, sitting up onto the palms of your hands and then standing slowly, still a bit uncoordinated. You sent the painting a final glance before you wandered to the phone, grabbing the thing and checking your watch while you did it. You slumped down into the seat at the end of your dining room table, where your father usually sat, and pulled the antenna from the top, punching in the numbers absentmindedly as you stared out the window onto the garden and the pool.

The number was for your father's Monaco residence, and you waited with a jumping knee and wry expression while it rang. Eventually, though, your mother picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello, mother."

(Y/n), darling, is something wrong? You know to call Reginald first, in case of emer—"

"—No, nothing is wrong, mother. Look, I actually wanted to ask you a question."

"Well, go on then. We're about to go out to dinner."

"...Mother, do you have Julie Roosevelt's number?"

Silence on the end of the line. "Absolutely!" You didn't need to be there with her to hear the smile in her voice. "What for?"

You swallowed. "I think I'll try to take her out tonight."

"Well! Darling, that's just wonderful!" You nodded into the receiver, not like she could see it. "Make sure to wear your nice shirt, we don't want to upset the Roosevelts! I hope you know, I'm proud of you for this, really." You almost mentioned getting accepted into Princeton. Almost. But you decided not to mention it. It wasn't like you wanted to think about it anyways.

From the far wall, you could see the painting of the woman with the blue eyes staring at you.

===+++===

The local mini golf was always busy, but Saturdays were absolutely the busiest. There were couples upon couples who had the exact same idea, and were wandering around with their hands together and beaming at one another like they were living in a rom-com in the real life.

And yet you stood there with your hand in Julie Roosevelt's, and a massive frown on your face. It wasn't one that you'd let Julie see— every time she glanced in your direction, you'd quickly replace it with your best smile, showing her your teeth— but it was one that you knew you wore when she turned away.

"Sorry about the late notice," you said. You dropped her hand and went to grab a putter from the front, handing it to her and then grabbing one for yourself.

"It's okay, I was wondering if you were ever going to talk to me again," Julie laughed, a bit awkward. You winced. It's not like you could be honest, and say that you didn't intend to. The truth was, that while Julie was a bit shallow, she was also a bit too nice to deserve this one-sided thing.

Of course, there was the hope that you grew the love your mother spoke of. Maybe it would hit you, and alleviate you from Nat, who seemed to haunt your thoughts even more now, that you were aware she had captured your heart.

"I was just busy, this past week," you shrugged. "It's kind of a big deal for the Yellowjackets, and both of the teams are practicing and stuff...so."

"Wow. I guess you really like the Yellowjackets then, huh?"

"Uh...something like that, yeah. It's a big deal." She hummed, then took her things out onto the first green.

You let her go, standing behind her and watching with a grin and the scorecard in your pocket. Mini golf was something you took pride in being good at. But, then, of course, Julie let the ball drop, took a second, and gently hit the ball around the bend with a near perfect curve, and right into the hole.

"Yay!" she cheered, jumping up and down in celebration.

"Wha—"

Julie put her hands on her hips with a teasing grin. "Captain of the golf team, remember?" You hadn't.

"Right..."

You played a terrible game, for the most part. You stood at the end of the second-to-last hole with the scorecard in your hand and a whole bunch of big numbers on your side of the table. Julie was beaming from ear to ear, though you weren't exactly sure why.

It had been pretty much silent, with the two of you failing over and over again to find an interesting thing to talk about. It wasn't the calm, pleasant silence like it was with... well, it didn't matter now. You filled in a four, two shots over the par, and made your way over to where Julie was crouching down, to get a better view of the final hole.

"Actually wait, there's a special way you have to play this one," you called out to her, and she turned to you with a puzzled expression.

"What do you mean?"

"It's kind of local tradition here," you shrugged. You weren't even sure if that was true, you just knew that it was what Nat had called it, when she taught you. "You have to swing really, really hard, and to win, you've gotta get it over the fence," you pointed, "and right into the back of that neighbourhood."

She blinked at you for a moment, and then Julie frowned, looking down to the ground. "That's mean, though. What if you hit someone's house? Or a window?"

"Bonus points," you shrugged. "I don't know, you can't really see where they go, once they're over the fence. It's fun."

Julie raised her eyebrows. "Don't you think it's a little immature? Why would I do that if I'm going to win for real?"

You opened your mouth to reply, then firmly closed it. "I guess you're right," you mumbled. It hadn't felt stupid when you suggested it, but Julie's disdain at the suggestion made you feel improper.

She did win, by a massive landslide, and you let her keep the scorecard with little protest. She was still beaming though, brightly at you like she had just had the best date of her life. Your stomach felt like it was tied up in a bunch of knots, but you smiled back at her nonetheless.

If love was something to be worked towards, you really hoped it would start working soon.

===+++===

You had only been home for about twenty minutes, when your phone started ringing. Off the hook. Over and over again. You knew who it was just from the ring, but that didn't mean you wanted to pick up.

After the disaster that was dropping Julie off at her house, you wanted to continue to staring at the ceiling. But after the sixth call back, it seemed Jackie wasn't giving up.

You picked the phone up with a frown, rolling over and smushing your chin into the bed. "Hello—"

"—OH MY GOD, YOU AND JULIE?!"

You groaned. "Jackie I dropped her off like thirty minutes ago, how do you already know about this?"

"So it's true?! You're dating?"

You sat up. "What? No, we just went on one date."

"Really? Cause Julie told Margie who told Randy who told Jeff, who told me that you kissed her and you're going out!"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I didn't kiss her, she kissed me. And it wasn't even like an actual kiss, she like, pecked me, and then scrambled out of my car and up her driveway."

"Well, she's saying you're going steady."

"'Going steady?' The 40s called, they wanted their slang back."

"Ha ha," Jackie said back, and you could hear the eye roll. She went silent. "...I bet your mom is happy."

"Probably..."

"Are you happy? You're probably a shoe-in for prom court, especially since I'll be out of town. Your mom won't let you go to nationals, will she?"

"No. She'll want me and Julie to go to prom together."

"Well, I mean, at least you'll win, right? That's gotta be exciting?"

You looked over to your nightstand, where you had a polaroid of you and Nat that sat taped to the side. "Thrilled."

"(Y/n)? You okay, hubby?"

You took a sharp swallow. "Yeah, I'm fine. Julie's great."

"Right...," she paused again, "does Nat...does she know?"

"I don't think so... It's only been like, thirty minutes."

"She will soon, though. Monday."

"Yeah...I guess she will soon."

===+++===

Monday was terrible. It seemed Julie had taken the awkward attempt at kissing you as the sign that you were together. She was there at your car when you first arrived, grinning again while you and Lottie got your things for school out of the second row. Then, the moment you had locked your car, you were tugged along by a hand grabbing yours.

You didn't exactly have a good reason to be grossed out. Julie was beautiful, and if you had felt the same way for her, you would have been thrilled with the enthusiasm. Hell, if it were... well. So, you mostly let her drag you wherever she wanted.

There was about a week, to run for prom court. Your mother had promptly called you that morning to insist on prom, and insist on shopping for prom, when she returned home on Wednesday, from Monaco. It was all Julie would talk about, and you were starting to wonder how much of this was a political move for her too, rather than one of genuine interest in you.

You first saw Nat coming down one of the halls, and you hesitated a bit the moment you saw that she noticed you. Or, that she noticed you and Julie together. It was the walk of shame, frankly. You didn't belong to her, in any formal sense. But your heart did, and that was enough for it to hurt. Badly.

It seemed to hurt her too. She immediately frowned, tugging on Kevyn's sleeve and walking in the opposite direction. You wanted to run after her, but Julie had an iron grip on your hand and a smile so bright.

It was awkward enough at lunch, with Julie insisting to sit next to you and to bring her golf friends. A few of them were nice, and Jackie managed to chat them up well enough to make even more friends than before, but Lottie had a frown the entire time, and Shauna looked less than happy.

Nat wasn't staring at you at lunch anymore. It was a startling realisation, that you wanted her to be looking at you. If anything, you were looking more at her. You kept turning around, trying to seem like you were just scanning the cafeteria, but Nat was firmly looking down at her food, at the same table as always.

You felt like a runaway dog that had temporarily shrugged off its collar, trying to find home with a tail between its legs. Julie was nice, and smart, and talented. But she wasn't the one. Your one.

===+++===

"Hey, you ready?" you asked Lottie, finding her out in the hallway in front of the locker rooms. it was Friday, and you both had your soccer bags slung over your shoulder, and were about to head out to practice, but Lottie seemed transfixed on a poster on the wall. "Hey now, you've got nationals tomorrow, no distractions," you tried.

"Is she seriously trying to make it seem like you two are soulmates?" Lottie said with a grimace. It was one of the ones Julie had made in two days, and was now putting all over the school to really earn you both the win. There was a drawing of you and her on it, with a heart in the middle, and 'VOTE JULIE & (Y/N) FOR PROM COURT 1996.' It was an objectively good design, but Lottie didn't like Julie very much— or at least had started to hate her, the longer you and her were together.

"I think it's because she has a crush on you," Julie said once with a pout, after Lottie had been less than welcoming to her on a ride home.

"No she doesn't," you shook your head.

"She definitely does. You shouldn't hang out with her as much, or people will think you and her are a thing. I mean, I did at first."

The whole conversation had only made Lottie more and more annoyed with her, and that was saying a lot, with how Lottie was usually nice to most people.

"Come on," you said, gesturing with your head out towards the pitch. "Last practice before nationals."

Lottie still had a frown on her face, but she followed you out there with her arms crossed. It was still relatively early, only a few people were out. Coach Martinez's son Travis was up in the bleachers, watching, while you could see Trevor and Misty talking next to the water cooler and Jeremy and Mari passing a ball back and forth to each other.

"Hey (Y/n)," a voice called from behind you, and you could feel a similar annoyance to Lottie's washing over you. You turned to see Carter Avery, back from his suspension, with a cheeky smirk on his face. "Miss me?"

"Not even close," you scowled. He brushed past you and Lottie, pausing for a moment when he was directly in front of you staring down in an attempt at intimidation. He kept walking though, until he paused, right at the edge of the pitch.

"Oh, and (Y/n)?"

"What."

"I think I need to borrow some eggs. You got any for me?" Your eyes widened. "What about toilet paper, then?"

It was intended to create anger in you. You knew he wanted you to charge at him or something, or to scowl, but all you did was stand there, in a stunned silence. You had thought that Nat would do that. That Nat could do that to you. Of course it wasn't Nat. You felt stupid and you felt guilty, and you felt even worse that you couldn't do much about either of those things. You could try, though. And maybe that would be enough.

Lottie sent you a knowing look, but all you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die. Maybe you could try to talk to her, after practice? It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

The Yellowjackets' moods were infectious, and it was impossible to not have a great time, at that practice. Their emotions were high, along with their excitement, and you started to feel a little bit better, the more you ran and the more you felt the wind in your hair.

Of course, that's when everything decided to go wrong. A single slide tackle from Taissa, right into Allie's leg, and everyone was panicking and yelling. You could see the bone sticking out from it, and Misty was bolting in your direction, hovering over her and attempting to right it.

"Can I get two people to carry her?" She shouted at both teams, and you immediately raised your hand, stepping forwards while Allie began to cry. You didn't even see who was grabbing her other arm until you had made it into the locker room, and Allie was still crying with Misty following behind and a very clueless looking Coach Ben behind her.

You should've known, it was her. She was selfless like that, even though she'd rather die than admit it herself. And yet, there Nat was, on the other side of Allie, laying her down on one of the locker room benches and raising her leg up. Misty ushered you both out into the hall, and suddenly both you and Nat were regretting volunteering.

You had to wait until she came out, so you would be able to carry her to the front, where the ambulance could arrive to take her to hospital, but until then it just meant you and Nat were forced to stand there in awkward silence.

It stayed that way, until you tried to speak. "So...nationals, hu—"

"Don't even," Nat snapped, shutting you up. She was twitching a little bit, in discomfort, and you knew right now that if it were outside, or if she were to have her bag, she would be pulling out a cigarette.

"...I know it wasn't you who egged my house. It was Carter... I'm...sorry."

"Real genius, aren't you."

"Allegedly. Not in practice, apparently," you admitted, sliding to the tiled floor in wait. She eyed you cautiously, but did the same, sliding down.

"Man, if I had a nickel, for every time we've been in this hallway with a serious injury... I'd have, what, two nickels?" You hummed, leaning your head back against the wall.

"That's not a lot," Nat said, rolling her eyes.

"No," you nodded in agreement, "but it's weird that it happened twice."

She thought for a minute, then shrugged. "I guess." You both could hear the whistle being blown outside, to end the final scrimmage and indicate that it was time to circle up.

"Don't you want to go hear that? Y'know, for tomorrow?"

Nat shook her head. "I'd rather be here for Allie. Though she's kind of an asshole."

You snorted. "She's a total fucking bitch."

"...Just so you know, I really did have to leave, after Lottie's party... I, uh, kissed your forehead, before I left... I guess you couldn't feel it though. You were asleep."

You shook your head. "I didn't know that..."

"...Yeah... my dad was being an asshole... it was a whole thing." You knew it hurt more than she was saying, right now, and you so desperately wanted to scoot closer, like you would've before things had gotten so messed up. Back when you were on the cusp of happiness.

"I'm sorry, Nat."

She shrugged again, like it didn't hurt, but you knew all too well. "For what?"

You would've said for being scared. For being weak. For not realising sooner. Anything. But instead you were interrupted by the sound of shoes on the tile.

Of course, there Julie had to be. She took a single look at Nat who was covered in sweat and a bit red from practice, and grimaced, before coming up to you and standing right over you, expectantly.

"Is practice over?" she asked, checking her watch. "I finished my club meeting. We have to go dress shopping— I want you there to colour match— and I need you to drop Margie off at her house, cause I said you would yesterday."

You blinked. "I mean... It kind of is? I should probably stay a bit—" you looked to Nat to see what she would say, but she was already standing up and walking off, taking the not so secret hint that Julie was telling her to get lost.

Julie watched her go, scowling behind her back and then spinning to you the moment the door clicked shut behind her. "What did she want with you?" she asked.

"We were just talking, Allie needed help."

"Well she's no good. She's one of those kids, y'know." You narrowed your eyes, getting up to your feet and wiping your hands on your shorts.

"What are you talking about?"

Julie tilted her head to the side, like she was confused by your confusion. "You must not have a lot of them, around here, but we had them all OVER, in Massachusetts. The town bicycles. Everyone wants a ride, if you know what I mean."

It was your turn to cross your arms. "No the hell I do not, Julie."

"Oh come on," she said, throwing up her hands. "She's trailer trash, at best. The delusional kind who thinks we'd look at her, like, ever. I mean, what's her body count, like over a hundred?"

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you snapped at her, glowering.

"Okay, I know she's on the Yellowjackets, and she's clearly trying to get in your pants, but cmon. I'm your girlfriend, we can laugh about this kind of—"

"No, the hell you aren't. You're not my girlfriend, Julie, and you barely ever fucking were. That girl you just insulted is the best fucking person I know. She's selfless, she's kind, she makes me laugh—"

"Well then go sleep with her then!" Julie yelled, stomping her foot.

"Y'know what, I already have! And I fucking love her. So there!" And you turned right around and stomped back out onto the pitch.

===+++===

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you rolled your eyes, trudging down the stairs and calling out into the foyer. It wasn’t like whoever it was would actually be able to hear you, through the thickness of your door, if anything it was more to air your grievance with having to get up so fucking late. Your mom was once more distraught, now that you had kept the "perfect" girl for a single week and then promptly dumped her. Another vacation was in order.

Rain was still pounding on the roof from above, and it filled the emptiness of your house with a faint white noise, that was immediately shattered by the person pressing the button again. You rolled your eyes, deciding to walk even slower to the door out of nothing but spite.

When you actually opened the door, though, you had to blink a couple times, seeing a figure retreating already, down your drive. However long you had took had made them rethink why they were here, and you would've been all too happy to let the door close. That was, until you narrowed your eyes into the rain, just barely making out the shape of a familiar leather jacket.

"Nat?" You called into the storm, loud enough that there was no way she couldn't have heard you. You crossed your arms, thinking about how she had been earlier that day. "I know it's you, Natalie. Why the fuck are you here? You have nationals tomorrow."

She stopped in her tracks, just standing in it. She gently turned, shoulders rising and falling and it was clear she was breathing heavily. Her mascara was running in massive streaks down her face and dripping in small, grey droplets, and her eyes were sensitive and red, as if she had been crying and rubbed them raw. You swallowed what felt like a lump in your throat.

"This— all of this, with you— I— I can't," she stumbled, looking like a sad, wet dog in the rain.

"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows at her, walking out further onto your large, covered doorstep.

"I can't see you with her, (Y/n), I— I just can't."

"With Julie?"

Natalie threw up her arms in frustration. "Yes, Julie. I know she's perfect, or whatever, but— I— you can't be with her—"

"—Nat," you tried, stepping forward again.

"—Because I love you," she continued. You stopped in your tracks. It felt as if the air had been sucked right out of your lungs, even in the freshness brought by the storm. "I know we argue," her voice shook, "and I know we fight, and I know I smoke, and I curse, and I get bad grades, and my dad's a shithead, and I'm kind of an asshole sometimes— but I fucking love you, (Y/n). You.... I—"

"—Shut up," you said, shaking your head and rushing forward, out into the pouring storm. You collided with her, cupping her face in your cheeks and kissing her like the world would end in ten minutes. It would have, if you hadn't done it, and you had no idea how you had survived so long without doing it.

You kissed her once, and then you kissed her again, and then, when she was crying harder, and you were crying too, and she was holding onto your arms like you would fall away, you kissed her forehead, and held her tight in a hug.

"I'm selfish, and I'm a mess, and I'm never good enough for my stupid fucking parents," you said, over the rain and just for Nat, "and I don't realise that I hurt people 'cause that's not what my family does, and for that, I'm really, really fucking sorry."

She nodded in her tears, looking up at you as you both got rained on together. "But, I agree," you said, voice shaking, "we're not casual. I'm really, really fucking sorry, but I also really, really fucking love you, Nat. And I'm sorry I was too scared and too stupid, and," you raised your voice, as if to the sky, "I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING GO TO PRINCETON—" this time it was Nat who shut you up.

It was another kiss, but it was far more gentle than the first. It was a gentle press, and it took your breath away. When you pulled apart, you let your forehead fall against Natalie's. Even though the droplets were cold, you felt so warm.

After what felt like forever, but still wasn't long enough, Nat murmured to you, "should we go inside?" She still smelled like cigarettes and her perfume, just as she had in her trailer, and you intended to let the scent linger.

You shook your head. "Just stay out here a little longer with me. Please? Just let time pass."

She nodded, then smirked as she looked past you at the car on your driveway. "Fuckin' rich people."

===+++===

AAAAAND THAT'S CASUAL BABYYYYY! Finished at like 2 am. anyways, i'm tired and a little bit sleepy

[rotten7rat]

Batfamily + Cooking

Alfred:

He's the main cook, and has been since taking the job as the Wayne's butler. Classically trained in the culinary arts, and thankfully stillvery much enjoys it, though not as much as he used to. He likes baking more than cooking, and has gotten more of a sweet tooth as he's gotten older. Leans more on your classic British dishes, but is always happy to try a requested recipe. Prefers to cook either alone or with competent help.

Bruce:

No. Cannot even be trusted to make a grilled cheese, he always burns them.

Barbara:

Pretty good. Very much a 'throw something together at 7:30, eat at 8' kind of person, but everyone is always happy to have what she cooks. If it takes hours to make then its not worth it. A teacher suggested once that being raised by a single father, she must do most of the cooking and cleaning, and after that she refused to learn how to cook out of sheer stubbornness.

Dick:

An excellent cook. I think it comes naturally to him, he didn't spend much time cooking growing up but once he taught himself the basics he can pretty much throw anything together. Its by no means a passion of his, but he does enjoy it. However, he doesn't cook often due to being too busy and/or tired, so he gets a lot of takeout or just has something quick or microwavable very often. But if he's cooking you best be there. Anything can be a social occasion and he happily accepts help in the kitchen. Not great at baking though, he always manages to over-cook or over-mix.

Cassandra:

I'm sorry but she will throw rice, water, and and an unseasoned chicken breast in the rice cooker and call it a night. Either that or she'll have a protein shake and seven eggs.

Jason:

Quite good. Unlike Dick, it doesn't come naturally to him, but he is a fast learner and picked it up mostly from Catherine, Alfred, and YouTube. That being said, would he prefer tortellini en brodo or four boxes of Kraft mac and cheese? Tamales or something quick and greasy from Bat Burger? Its always the second option. I think he often cooks as a distraction or just something to do, and just gives it to the single mother across the hall or throws it in the freezer to eat a week later.

Stephanie:

Decent. She'll see a recipe on TikTok and will try it instantly, and she's always excited to try something new. Works best with a recipe but decides just to wing it mostly. Cooking with her mother has become somewhat of a bonding activity. Really good at baking, especially things like brownies and cookies. However, she will also throw pickles, peanut butter and ice cream in a blender and swear it tastes fantastic. Is learning to cook more because everytime she sees Cass eating a boiled chicken breast she takes psychic damage. Trying to sneak meat alternatives into Cass without her noticing. It worked once.

Tim:

Not great. Will follow the recipe to the letter and will somehow still fuck it up. He mostly sticks to simple recipes that are hard to mess up, and also just doesn't have the desire to spend heaps of time in the kitchen. He does make a mean sandwich though, every time someone tries to replicate one its just never as good.

Duke:

Doesn't particularly enjoy cooking but he's fine at it. Not as bad as Cassandra, he will season his food, but prefers it to be quick and not complicated. Loves heavier foods like pastas and other carbs but doesn't have the patience or desire to make them from scratch so he uses jar sauces, frozen potatoes etc. Will put taco seasoning on everything.

Damian:

Good eventually. Doesn't cook a lot now, but when he was younger he had a kind of 'well obviously its not difficult, its just cooking' mindset. He was humbled. By Dick. I think when he's older he is much better. Will still follow a recipe so it is perfect every time. It isn't a hobby, just a task that must be completed, but he'll be damned if he's eating bland food, he will spend an hour preparing vegetable tagine. Nobody can help of even be in the kitchen with him while he is cooking, because they are breathing all the kitchen air and taking up all the room. Get out.

[pentacentric]

I probably think way too much about how very little Sam knew about Mary. How John and Dean gave him almost nothing, to the point that she wasn't even really like a ghost shadowing his life, more like the story of one overheard in bits and pieces over the years. And yet, his whole life from when he can first remember—every bit of motivation or guilt, every point of pride or shame—is built around his mother, this person he isn't allowed to know.

I've written a lot of bits and pieces about it before, but never a standalone. This is actually an excerpt from a longer story, but I modified it some and I think it works on its own, hopefully (he knows about hunting already but that's really the only canon difference).

..........................

When Sam's in fourth grade, and has to write a page about his favorite memory, he asks for Dean's help. All he can seem to dredge up at the moment is just too weird or too farfetched. Things that say far too much about the way they live for a teacher to read.

So he asks Dean what he would write about.

After some teasing about his best memories being of all the times Sam's embarrassed himself (and a well-aimed pink rubber eraser hitting him between the eyes) Dean quiets down and turns thoughtful.

"Well, I dunno what my most favorite memory would be, really. I guess…" He bites his lip, chews on it for a second, gaze directed absently into the distance. "I think it would prob'ly be my first memories? It musta been, like, when I was three and four maybe. They're…of Mom."

"Oh." Sam's chest gets a little tight. He speaks quietly, cautiously. Dean—Dean and Dad both—they don't talk about her much. Sam's seen her picture, the one that Dad keeps in his journal, a few times, but he knows so little about her. Just that she was pretty (beautiful), with a smile that reminds of him of Dean's and wavy blonde hair. "What was she—what are they like?"

Dean smiles, maybe a little sad, but it's more than that. Warm, wistful; gaze still unfocused and distant. "Mostly…happy. Like…bright. She'd sing to me a lot, and, like, I didn't know the songs back then, but, when I hear 'em now, I can hear her voice singing them. Beatles, Beach Boys, Simon and Garfunkel, um…Peter, Paul, and Mary, maybe…" Dean chuffs out a laugh. "I remember Puff the Magic Dragon, at least…I think I even remember Dad teasin' her about how she better sing me some real music, too, not just sissy crap, but, I dunno, maybe I made that up."

Dean pauses, that bittersweet expression on his face, still, and Sam doesn't want him to get lost in it. He also doesn't want to miss this opportunity, if he can help it.

"I dunno. He'd say somethin' like that." Dean spares him half a smile, still somewhere else in his head. "What…what else do you remember? What'd you guys do together?"

"Well, not a whole lot. I guess mostly just the normal stuff you do with a little kid. Like legos, I remember we'd build castles an' fortresses and stuff. I wanted her to build me a car but we didn't have enough black bricks, so she made me a little boat instead. Dad said it looked like a bathtub." He smiles. "Um, she'd dance with me, sometimes. To the radio. Make lunch—I mostly remember sandwiches and Mac n' Cheese. I'd sit in that little seat in the cart when she went to the grocery store, and she'd ask me what was on the list and I'd pretend I could read it and make up dumb stuff."

The silence is longer this time. Sam breathes out, carefully. "What kinda stuff?"

"I dunno. Just silly things, like 'elephant steaks!' Or 'a unicorn!' Or 'poop n' rhubarb pie!'"

"Gross." Sam wrinkles his nose.

Dean grins at that. "I think you're, like, the only kid ever who never found poop and fart jokes funny."

"'Cause they're not."

When Dean laughs, muttering little weirdo, Sam looks around for something harmless to throw at him, pouts.

"Don't worry, Sammy, if anyone wonders why you're so weird I'll just tell them it's 'cause you still poop your pants, and you're kinda sensitive about it an' all."

"Dean."

Sam decides that his pencil is perfectly fine to throw after all and, as a concession, doesn't aim it at his head. Dean grins, not seeming too annoyed by the assault, so Sam decides to push his luck.

"Did Mom think it was funny? Your lists?"

Dean's melancholy little smile is back. "Yeah…yeah, I think she did. She'd always laugh, anyways. An' she had the best laugh. I'd make up stuff that just got more and more ridiculous just so I could keep watchin' her laugh." He sighs, shrugs. "Anyways, yeah…that's Mom. That's what I remember."

It gets quiet after that, and Sam can see Dean's face starting to shutter over as he withdraws. It's rare for Sam to get to see his brother so open and unguarded any more. Over the last few years, Dean's started to change; Sam can tell. Still fun, still charming, still affectionate, at least with Sam (mostly when there's no one else around to catch him being so uncool). But, even though they're not always alike—Dean doesn't usually brood, rarely explodes, and he never gets that kind of burning cold John does when he's focused on something—sometimes now he kinda reminds Sam of Dad. He's been more closed off, the way Dad can be, his deeper emotions pushed farther away, out of Sam's reach. Doesn't show when things get to him, like he used to.

It's actually kind of lonely, sometimes.

"So, what are you gonna write about, Sammy?"

When Sam shrugs, Dean suggests the time they ran out of gas on a back road in central Florida. They'd only walked two miles before an Oscar Myer Wienermobile came barreling down the road, seemingly out of nowhere, and gave them a lift to and from the closest gas station (still a good eight miles away). Sam counters with the night in Montana that Dad got so drunk he started fighting with the motel owner about yetis (Dad coming down hard on the side of 'hoax'). They ended up getting kicked out at two am after Dad had cut down the guy’s “Bigfoot Crossing” sign with an axe. They toss back and forth increasingly ridiculous ideas until they're both laughing so hard they're in literal tears. When John comes back, they can't even stop long enough to answer what's so funny. Dad just smiles, bemused and fond, and shakes his head before heading off to shower.

Sam thinks maybe he can add this afternoon to his Good Memories pile.

In the end, he waits until that evening, before bed, and easily fills up a page-and-a-half about the time, last summer, when Dad was on a hunt out west and he and Dean had spent all afternoon exploring tidal pools in Yaquina Head, Oregon, marveling at the tiny little aquatic worlds they found. He invents an older teenage cousin that tagged along so the teacher won't question why two young kids spent the day alone in a national park.

He gets an A.

From then on, Sam keeps his eyes out in thrift stores for cassettes from the bands Dean mentioned; pockets them when he can to listen to later on the beat-up Walkman knock-off Dean stole for him for his sixth birthday. He likes a lot of it, but he's careful about what he keeps; only his favorites. He stashes them in the bottom of his school bag, in the hollowed-out book that Bobby showed him how to make last year, on a rainy day when Sam got bored with watching old Westerns.

For some reason, he doesn't want Dean to know about them. Doesn't want him to feel like Sam's trying to take something away from him. So he slips them in when he's sitting in the back of the Impala alone, on long trips, and closes his eyes. Lets the albums pour into his ears over the headphones; shuts the rest of the world out. Sgt Pepper's. Pet Sounds. Bookends. He tries to imagine his mom, Mary, singing the songs to him, in a sunny kitchen.

But he can never really pull together a complete image of her; just bits and pieces, blurred-together impressions: yellow hair, the smiling face from the picture (looking kind of flat, like a mask), a flowered dress he'd seen in a shop window. And he doesn't know what her voice sounded like, so it kind of just ends up being a composite of the voices of some of his favorite teachers (along with the mother of a classmate back in Indiana who drove him home once when she spotted him waiting for the rain to stop under the playground slide).

So he gives up on trying to picture her, and, instead, just tries to sink into the music, sees if he can feel what she was feeling when she listened to it. Imagines the conversations they might have: which songs would be her favorites, why she would have liked them, where she was the first time she heard them playing.

When he hears those songs on the radio now, or over the speakers in a restaurant, it makes him feel kind of happy and sad at the same time.

They remind him of her.

(Except for America—for some reason, that one makes him think of Dean.)

[delulu4dean]

“Five Gum…”

Warnings: idk, cringe outdated pop culture references. Gender neutral terms(just wanting you so you don’t get like confused <3 )

Pairings: Cas X autistic!reader(platonic), Dean x child!reader

Summary: Castiel is hanging out with Dean’s autistic child, and they have a lot in common.

Word Count: 1,278

Your dad, Dean Winchester, is out on a hunting trip with your Uncle Sammy. He left you alone with Castiel. You don’t know what Castiel is to your dad, they say they’re best friends, but the way they look at each other says more.

You didn’t mind being at the bunker with Cas though. Out of everyone, you got along with him the most. You had some sort of mutual understanding that Sam and Dean don’t get. You assumed it’s because Castiel didn’t know much about human interaction, social cues, pop culture references, and you were well, autistic. Your dad has made the joke that you and Castiel tilt your head the same way when you’re confused, and both don’t understand his sarcasm, and how even though your Dean’s kid, you’re a mini-Cas.

“So what are we doing today?” Castiel asks you.

“I know my dad is protective, but you really don’t need to babysit me, I’m 18. I am an adult,” you explain to Castiel.

“That’s not why he leaves me with you, he just doesn’t want you to get lonely.”

You nod, understanding. Today you’re probably going to do what you and Cas always do, exist next to each other while doing your own things. He’ll be reading something, you’ll be drawing something, and occasionally you two will look at each other, and ask how it’s going. It’s always worked that way.

And that is what you do today. You both go to the library together, Castiel picks out a book, you pull out your sketchbook, and you start doing what you learned is called “parallel play.” At least that’s what it’s called in kids, but you figured the term can be applied here too. You start sketching away as Castiel looks at you, narrowing his eyes.

“You wear that jacket all the time, why?” he asks.

“It brings me comfort. You wear that trench coat all the time, even indoors when you don’t need to. Why is that?” you throw the question right back at him.

“I suppose it also brings me some sense of comfort,” he concludes.

You nod, satisfied with his answer, and go back to sketching, as he goes back to his book. The only sounds filling the room are Castiel’s occasional page flipping, and your constant scribbling. This goes on for half an hour, only to be interrupted by your stomach erupting in hunger. Castiel does not say a word, as he gets up and goes to the bunker’s kitchen, and comes back with a prepackaged peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Oh thanks. When did we get these?” you raise an eyebrow.

“I got them the last time I went grocery shopping with your dad. He said you were having trouble eating because the foods we’ve been getting weren’t the right texture, and I remember when I was human I loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, you can never go wrong with them. But I know you sometimes just want ready made food, and when I saw these in the freezer section, I told Dean to get them.”

A smile comes across your face as you open the packaging and take a bite. These prepackaged peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were one of your safe foods, your other one being boxed mac and cheese. You bounce happily as you eat, something you do whenever you’re eating food you really like. And if it’s super good, you’ll kick your feet a little too.

You lick your fingers after you finish your sandwich, and sign “thank you” in ASL, something you do when you don’t feel like talking much. It’s a thing you do with everyone, you’ve taught them basic signs like “yes” or “no” or “please” or “thank you” or “food” or “water” to communicate when you don’t feel like talking.

“No problem,” Cas responds, smiling at you.

You nod and get back to your little activity while Castiel gets back to his. The silence is nice, you get to focus on you sketch, which is a picture of Castiel sitting down in his chair, reading. You occasionally glance up at him, getting the details you need, but you’re not going for realism. You have your own cartoonish art style and you’re drawing Castiel in it. Once you finish, you show him, and a big smile appears on his face as he puts down his book.

“You drew that? That’s me,” he says, and you nod. “I love it.”

You smile and start putting your art supplies away, as he goes back to reading. You clean up your space and put everything back in your room, before returning to Cas. You look over his shoulder at the book he’s reading, trying to not disturb him. He flips through the pages as he reads. But the page flipping and the silence get too much.

“Dicks out for Harambe,” you blurt out, not thinking.

Castiel once again sets his book down, this time not intending to pick it back up, as he looks up at you concerned. You didn’t think before speaking, but being on the internet you hear this phrase a lot. So you said it, and now Castiel is concerned.

“Who is Harambe and why are we exposing ourselves for him,” Castiel asks.

You think for a moment, wanting to answer him, but there’s no way to answer him without sounding stupid and insane. You take a deep breath, giggling a little at the thought of explaining “dicks out for Harambe” to Castiel.

“It’s an internet thing. This gorilla, Harambe, was killed, so we uh, expose ourselves, as you put it, to pay respects to him,” you attempt at an answer but Castiel furrows his eyebrows, getting even more confused.

“How is that paying respect?”

“Well it isn’t… it’s a joke…”

“I thought jokes were supposed to be funny,” he bluntly says.

“It is… to younger people I guess,” you shrug.

“And you said it because…?”

“I said it to fill the silence.”

Cas takes a moment to think, nodding, taking in what you just explained. He then takes his phone out and types away and you look at him, waiting for him to say or do something. He pats the seat next to him and you sit and look at his phone. It’s one of those fruit sensory videos on TikTok that you got Castiel into. Not the baby videos(well they are the baby videos) but the ones to popular music. You and Castiel watched as blueberries and strawberries bounce around the screen to Lincoln Park’s “Numb.”

“Why are we watching this?” you finally ask.

“You seemed like you needed something stimulating to watch or listen to,” Cas answers you.

“That reminds me,” you say, running to your room to grab something quick.

✰✰✰✰✰

Sam and Dean walk into the bunker, and as soon as they see everything, they just look around, confused. The ground is covered in bubble wrap, and the map table is full of Pop-it fidgets. You look up at your uncle and dad, as you and Cas run around barefoot on the bubble wrap, playing with the fidgets.

“What are you doing?” Dean asks.

You look up at him, with an innocent smile on your face.

“Five gum!” you yell at him, throwing a pop-it fidget at him, and he catches it. “Stimulate your senses!”

“I think they are making a joke, because this is a way to stimulate our feeling sense, which is something people on the spectrum often do,” Castiel explains to Dean.

“Yeah, I know what they meant, Cas,” Dean chuckles. “You two have fun while we were gone?”

You and Cas both nod.

✰✰✰✰✰

A/N sorry if this is silly, I’m autistic and Kin cas so I thought it would be fun to do Cas and Dean’s autistic kid. But autism is a spectrum! While this may be how autism is for me, it doesn’t represent everyone with autism :)

[satureja13]

After a while, the Boys didn't even bother to put their uniforms on, like the protocol demands. The communication system is broken, so there's no one to judge or punish them. Skully continued to sing eerie space songs. This time: The Carpenters - Calling Occupants Of Interplanetary Craft

'And please come in peace, we beseech you Only our love we will teach them Our Earth may never survive So do come, we beg you

Please, interstellar policeman Oh won't you give us a sign Give us a sign That we've reached you Oh do'

Jeb broke the spell by asking: "So, why are Vlad and Ji Ho wearing the same sleeping shirts? You wore them long before you even bonded." Vlad shook his head and started to explain: "No. No, no. It's not just Ji Ho and me, we..." Jack cleared his throat and interrupted him: "I guess it's time to tell the real story behind these shirts." *He waved at the others to gather closer* Jack: "It was the time when we still lived at the Space (Balls) Bar & Grill & Residence - Sai, Vlad and I. Just a few days before Sai dragged Ji Ho in. We'd been very poor then, even more than now. Sai and Vlad had their jobs beside school, so I was responsible for the rest. (Editor's note: Jack is referring to the happenings from Chapter 1. If you want to read about how they met and came to live together - it's -> here)

Jack: "Barfolomew, the owner and our caretaker, just came back in. He sniffed the food I was about to cook: 'Ohh, great - you're already cooking. I'm so hungry. Thought you're still busy with the laudry.' The laundry! I'd totally forgotten about that! You know, when I'm hungry - I'm hungry." Sai: "We all know that, Jack." Jack: "Yes, you do. Because you know me so well. And love me nevertheless. Can I go on now?" Sai just snorted a laugh and waved dismissively at Jack to continue his extended version of the happenings... And why not? They have nothing else do out here anyway.

Jack: "So I grabbed the laundry and went outside to start the washer. Vlad had already told me he ran out of shirts so I started the machine with the black clothes first." Sai shook his head: "That's so you. He told you he ran out of shirts and you still forgot... But, to be fair, you prospered a lot since then."

Jack: "I was confused because I forgot which program I had to run for the black clothes and that was when Barfolomew sniffed again and yelled because my Mac and Cheese started to burn... *Sai groaned something that sounded like 'omg Jack'* ...a bit..." Sai shuddered: "That must have been around the time when we started to eat sandwiches, I guess..."

Jack: "The droid in the backyard had mercy and told me which program to choose. Remind this for later."

Jack: "The washer was finally running and I ran back to the kitchen. This was going to be a long evening..." Vlad became impatient because he wanted to know why Jack, his best friend, didn't tell him the truth about a simple shirt: "This is going to be a long evening - where is this going, Jack?" Jack: "This would be going much faster if you wouldn't interrupt me all the time!"

Jack: "The droid cackled and beeped something after me which I didn't understood at this point. So I wished him a nice evening too and went inside to resume rescue my Mac and Cheese."

Jack: "So I cooked, we ate and then I played some Sabacc with Vlad... and then Vlad said: 'I can't believe you already finished your homework.' and I said: 'Dammit!' "

Jeb: "Let me guess: you forgot about the laundry?" Jack: "And about my homework too - you know me so well, my dear friend." Jack: "When I went to the yard to hang up the laundry, I found all the clothes ruined because that little droid scum made me choose the hottest program... He was clever enough to scoot off before I could dismantle him like his friend we'd turned into a grill after he broke. Which was probably the reason he told me me to choose that wrong program - revenge for his friend... In hindsight it should have made me suspicious that he always hung around that droid-turned-grill and made weeping sounds..."

Jeb: "Oh my..." Sai: " You can say that out loud for the people in the back! We were so happy when Ji Ho moved in and gave us some time to breathe." Jeb gaze went to a point in the far distance: "I thought the same when I went to the rooftop to ask him out for prom. He stood there, hanging up the laundry..." Sai and Vlad stared at Jeb... Jeb: "Eh sorry." But there's no way denying what Ji Ho means to Jeb.

...to be continued

TMI: Karen Carpenter from 'The Carpenters' was a drummer! I do not know about many famous female drummers. That's awesome. Sadly she died at only 33 years old.

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

Oh my, I've been wanting Jack to share this story for years! I thought Chestnut Ridge or Selvadorada would have been a good opportunity for some story telling at the campfire. Or at their new home in Tomarang. But it had never been the (right) time for it. And even I was surprised. I only learned about the whole of it when I took the screenshots the day before yesterday. And that's the reason why I'm still so hooked. There's so much I still don't know about them.

[lyrenminth]

The one who got away

Angst. Fwb situation with Justin.

In another life

I would be your girl

We keep all our promises

Be us against the world.

You didn't know how it began. These dirty feelings for him. The way your heartbeat increases watching him making you a sandwich after fucking the life out of you. It was unnatural, unwanted, unexpected.

It was unreasonable knowing damn well you weren't ready for a relationship. But you enjoyed the way the treated you, how smooth his skin was, how strong he was not having a problem fucking you standing up, how his hips connected with yours and how raspy and masculine his hands felt while touching your body.

And you didn't want to think about the other side. The side it that made your mind betray every rational thought. The side that made you dream of a house with a beautiful garden and little children with blond hair and slint eyes running all over the place. The side that made your heart hurt.

You had your life's plan already and that never include a 6'6 athletic man in the mix, and for once you wanted to follow your path after fighting for a ounce of independence with your family. You could hear Meg voice telling you "don't lose your mind for a dick" and she knew better than you in many aspects.

But you looked at him, all focused cutting the sandwich in a perfect half (like you like it) and pouring grape juice (your favorite) in a tall glass. You knew it was a dangerous territory to have this family dynamics with him, but you couldn't stop.

And Justin looked like he didn't want either. You saw each other at least twice a week, only to undress each other, but everything started when he asked to stay a little more time. Suddenly, you were having deep conversations about football and your deeply dislike of mac-and-cheese. Sharing silly stories from your childhoods, those he would never share with the media.

The mistake of Justin was paying attention to you like he actually care. And you mistake was believe that he actually care.

Now you were pondering in that horrible and hurtful question: are we fuck buddies or something else? And the answer was unclear for you too. Because you can't...you must not like him.

Your dreams were first. You were first. You traveling schedule, your clothing brand, your goal of becoming someone important by your own right. Having Justin in that equation with his almost-celebrity status tainted your purpose. You weren't Gisele Bündchen.

"Here you have" he said, giving you your plate and sitting next to you. He made two sandwiches for himself, you knew how much he liked to eat. He was a big foodie just like you.

You still felt the spams in your core, the emptiness of something missing. It was to early to fuck again? Your libido with him was always high. How annoying.

"Thank you" you started eating avoiding looking at his beautiful face.

"I was wondering if you are going to stay in LA for the next week?" he asked, cleaning his lips with a napkin.

"Yeah, I leave in two weeks" you put your sandwich down, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to punch yourself. "Why?"

"Umm" he played with his napkin. Was he nervous? "I got an extra ticket for the game, and if you want it it's yours"

You frowned. How agressive were those damn butterflies?

"Someone in your family can't go?" it must be. It has to be.

"Yeah, something like that" he looked at you, and your eyes went to his lips as usual.

"We say no public sightings" it was a rule he proposed. "Technically, we are not going to be together" he said.

Stay true to yourself. You can deal with a broken heart, you can't live his ways. Stay true to yourself. Love come and goes.

You bit your lip, and lower your gaze. It was your fault for allowing these interactions. The truth was you were scared, you didn't want to lose yourself but you enjoyed his company.

"What do you say?" his tone was so kind and hopeful that made you want to run away and throwing yourself at him in happiness. All at the same time.

You didn't want to know how he felt about you. Maybe he was in love, maybe he wasn't.

You sighed, not hungry anymore. You turned around to face him.

"Justin, I can't" it was the truth, it was the painful truth. "I can't go to your games, and I can't keep doing this" you move your hand between your bodies "I-um...I-" you gasped for air, feeling the knot in your throat "We agree this was something casual"

Maybe in another life. In another moment of your life. But not that night.

"I know" was all he said, frowning.

"Then, let's keep it casual, ok?"

"Yeah" he sounded sad? It was your imagination.

"I mean...I don't want to catch feelings and going to your games and all that stuff" your shake your head "It's going to erase the lines. I need the lines, Justin"

"Okay"

"Maybe we need a time apart too" he laughed without fun at you proposal "I don't want to catch feelings" you repeated "And you have tons of choices, I mean there are girls throwing themselves at you. You aren't going to starve" you joked trying to light the mood.

Then you saw how he closed himself. His expression hardened and you swore his eyes lost all shine.

"If that's what you want" he said, serious.

I don't know what I want, dumbass.

"It's what I need"

He only nodded. Yup, he was mad. But why? He started cleaning the table, you noticed he didn't eat much too.

"I'm going to call an Uber" you stated, understanding he didn't want you there, you started looking for you phone.

"It's too late. I'm gonna take you to your house" he declared.

It's something you liked about him, he could be mad but he wasn't an asshole.

"You don't have to" you find your purse, and took out your phone.

"Don't argue with me. It's late, it's dangerous. I know you don't want to spend more time with me but at least let me take you to your house so I know you're safe" he sounded bitter, and sad.

Wow. You stopped what you were doing only to look at him. He turned around, avoiding your gaze, like looking at you was unbearable.

"Thank you" you whispered.

The car ride was silent. And you were doubting your decisions. Maybe it was too soon? Too harsh? When you building complex appeared in sight you were about to cry. Why? You were the one who asked for it. You looked at his hands, his strong thighs and his stern look...oh.

"Thank you for the ride" you said, clenching to your purse. A heavy energy settle between both. You noticed he was holding tight the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

"You're welcome"

"Thank you for everything" he shook his head slightly at your words. His Adam's apple moving up and down. "Good luck for the rest of you seasons. I truly believe you are a great athlete, and you must be proud of yourself"

He took a deep sigh. "You don't have to do this" he declared, you heart sank "Good night"

And that's how you knew it was over.

"Bye"

In the next month you spend trying to get rid of him. You told your friend to help you to keep your mind free of him. You avoid watching his games, or being closer to anything related to him. It was relatively easy since you never went public with him. But the ache you felt made you sleepless and weak. You cried whole nights, realizing that you miss him. His scent, his dry sense of humor, his warm body, his hugs after sex, how good he made you feel.

Your dreams were the only thing you clinched for dear life. It was the reason you took that decision. Somehow, you didn't find it enough at that moment.

The nail in the coffin was to block his number and unfollow him from social media. After that you become a workaholic, traveling here and there, meetings with others brands, designing new clothes. Efficiency was your second name.

Everything was falling into place, but during some nights you would miss him. The sex, the intimacy. You had to fight against some actions, including stalk him or watch interviews. It was bad because he was a quarterback, face of a franchise. One Subway commercial and you were ready to unblock him. It was pathetic.

You were too stubborn to call him. To admit it. To give a second chance. And you had to learn to live without him.

Because you were the one afraid. The one who got away.

[clarkes-and-god]

"What are you guys gonna draw? I went shopping with my mommy and she got me new shoes so I'm gonna draw the shoes! They light up when I run fast and they have Elsa on."

"That's so cool! I went to my aunty and uncle's house for my cousin's birthday party, he's 6 now and his cake looked like a car! He got a racecar set too, I think he likes cars. What did you do, Mandy?"

"I looked after Neveah and Travis! My mommy was at work and my big brother went to his friend's house so I got to do it all by myself like a big kid! Normally Tyson makes us mac and cheese or something for lunch but he said I'm too little and I might burn myself so I made sandwiches for me and Neveah instead. I gave Travis his bottle too!"

"You can stay home all by yourself? Sometimes my mommy and daddy go out, but then my babysitter-"

"Sofia, Nia, you girls start drawing your pictures, ok? Mandy, you come over here for a minute."

"Am I in trouble, Ms Fisher? I'm really sorry, I promise I won't do it again."

"You're really not in trouble, sweetheart. I just want to hear more about what you did this weekend. Can you tell me what you just told Sofia and Nia?"

"Oh, I looked after my little brother and sister! Mommy was at work and Daddy was busy so I was helping! Normally my brother looks after them, but he went to Jaxon's house so I was a big girl and did it by myself. I made cereal for me and Neveah when we woke up, and I gave Travis his bottle. Neveah wanted to watch TV but we're not allowed to do that when Daddy's home 'cuz it's too noisy and he was in his bedroom. So we played with the dolls instead, and then I had to change Travis because he had a stinky butt! And then it was lunch so I made ham sandwiches, they were yummy. Daddy left when we were eating lunch, I think he was going to the store. So then we watched TV until he came back, and then Mommy came home from work. I was so helpful, when Daddy got back he said I was a good girl!"

"Thank you so much for telling me, Mandy. Do you want to tell me anything else about home?"

"Did I say something wrong, Ms Fisher? You look sad, I didn't wanna make you sad!"

"You didn't say anything wrong, sweetheart. You were really brave for telling me that, ok? You can go back to your drawing now if you don't have anything else say about it,

[made-ofmemories]

Fuck it Friday

Saying fuck it this Friday by posting what is without doubt the best part of what I am still calling 'Earthquake fic'. Moodboard and brief synopsis can be found here.

---

Chim lets out a low whistle when he follows Eddie into the kitchen which is fair. A tornado could have passed through and Eddie thinks it would look better than it does right now. There’s a stack of dishes from breakfast next to the sink that Buck won’t be able to get through even with as hard as he’s currently trying, the table is littered with the aftermath of last minute sandwich making and lunch packing. 

“Buck, can you go find Chris? It should not take 15 minutes to brush his teeth, you’re both going to be late.” Eddie says as he packs up the last of Chris’ lunch, a juice box and some fruit that will inevitably arrive home uneaten, but at least he tries to offer something more nutritional than a PB&J and pretzels. 

“Yeah.” Buck rinses off the dish he’s holding sets it aside, then pauses on his way out of the room to add. “Oh, I forgot to tell you there’s enough leftovers in the fridge for tonight but you’ll have to figure out something for tomorrow. I’ll grab groceries after my shift too.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I can manage dinner for one night. Chris won’t mind takeout, we’ll save you some for breakfast.”

“I thought you said you could cook now?” Buck teases. “How did you survive before you met me? On sandwiches?”

“Mostly boxed mac ’n’ cheese and abuelas cooking, but yes.”

Buck shakes his head, giving him a dopey little grin before he leaves the room with a call of Chris’ name. Chim clears his throat Eddie forgot he was there and whips around to face him so quickly it makes his head spin in a way it hasn’t since the first day he got injured. 

“You two didn’t pull a Bobby and Athena and get married without inviting us did you?” 

“What?” He knows he’s messed up the moment the word comes out of his mouth sounding nowhere as casual as he was hoping for. 

“Oh come on, I’ve lived with Buck before and I can promise you it was not like-” There’s a vague and somewhat frantic gesture around the room, “This. You’re totally married.”

“Just because he helps out with Chris and occasionally picks up groceries does not mean we’re married.” He thinks about adding that Buck used to do all of those things before he moved in anyway, but decides that probably would not help the situation. 

“Whatever, man, but maybe ask yourself why he’s been so willing to sleep on your couch for the better part of two months instead of looking for a place of his own.” Eddie’s face must do something without his permission because Chim’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “He is sleeping on your couch, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says like the liar that he is. “Where else would he be sleeping?”

Chim drops it after one more suspicious glare. The tension is defused a moment later when Buck comes barrelling in to grab Chris lunch and exchange hurried goodbyes. 

---

Tagging: @ladydorian05 @nmcggg @your-catfish-friend @jesuiscenseedormir @exhuastedpigeon @the-amber-raven

[bodrewritten]

Daughter of Discord Rewritten Chapter 4: The Best Day Ever

Screwball was 6 when she started school. There was some debate that morning on who would take her, and I'm the end they both went, since they both wanted to. It was almost fall, and the auburn light reflected through the falling leaves, the air smelled like warm remnants of cider and wood shavings. The schoolhouse shone brick red, white fences lines the area.

As they slowly approached the red building, Screwball felt her stomach churn.

"What if the ponies don't like me?" she asked her parents.

"Of course they'll like you!" Discord replied, playfully twirling the propeller on her hat. "Why wouldn't they? After all, who wouldn't like the most adorable filly in all of Equestria?"

Silence fell over the schoolyard as the foals stopped their playing at the sight of the draconequus. The kicked up leaves seemed to still and the light on their faces highlighted the unfamiliarity. Screwball gestured to them.

"Because I'm different?"

"And that's what makes you so adorable!" her father exclaimed, ruffling her mane.

"Everything will be alright, honey," Fluttershy assured the filly. "Dinky will be here, so will Autumn Glory and Taco Grandé."

After Pinkie and Cheese Sandwich had their first son, Taco Grandé, Applejack caught the baby fever once more, and rainbow dash and Rarity wouldn't object once she'd taken them to the orphanage and they'd seen the childs that made their hearts skip a beat. They adopted the cinnamon twins shortly after, maple cinnamon and cinnamon twist.

"Your teacher is also Cheerilee," Fluttershy continued. "You remember her: the crusaders' teacher? Oh, and big mac's daughter is there too!"

Apple Blossom was also around Screwball's age. They had not met that often, but she knew she was Aunt Applejack's real niece. She also remembered Sugar belle, a very nice mare who always smiled crooked and warm.

"And don't worry if any pony makes fun of you," Discord added. "Just show them who's Boss and turn them into an orange!"

Fluttershy shook her head. She looked back at the filly. "If any pony can't accept how special you are, that's their problem. As for your magic…don't get into any trouble and don't make any pony feel jealous…Promise me you'll behave. Okay, honey?"

Screwball nodded. "I'll be good, Mommy."

Pinkie pie strolled up to the playground with her Coltfriend, cheese, bounding with her foal on her back. Then rainbow and Applejack showed up with their own children.

The twins landed with a thud as Dinky tackled them both. Applejack chuckled as she appeared behind them. At her side was a light brown colt with a black mane and autumn brown eyes.

"I see y'all are just as excited as Maple here," the cowgirl said, patting her adopted son on the back.

Dinky looked up and blushed slightly at the sight of Maple Cinnamon Screwball noticed him returning her blush.

"hi d-," he stuttered. He was stuck on the letter "D".

Dinky waved her hoof with unmatched enthusiasm."HI!!!"

Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash and Applejack shared a knowing look.

Every pony looked up as the school bell rang and Cheerilee emerged from the building.

"Alright, kids! Come inside!"

Fluttershy gave her daughter a light shove. "Go on! We'll come and pick you up at three."

After receiving another kiss, Screwball joined her friends as they raced up the steps. She stopped at the door.

"Oh, Ms Cheerilee!" Rainbow exclaimed, handing her the apple. "This is for you!"

"Why thank you, Dash," Cheerilee said with a smile. "How's the twins?"

"see, that's just what I wanted to hear. Cuz' I got something I needa tell you, ma'am. See, Maple's got a stutter, and he's really shy about it. Try not to hold it against him?"

Cheerilee put her hoof into Rainbow Dash's. "You have my word, miss. You too, miss Applejack."

Cheerilee attempted to get her new students to settle down. "Alright, class! I know you're excited and all. You'll find your name on your new desk."

"Well, welcome to the new school year, my little ponies!" Cheerilee announced. "I'm your teacher, Ms Cheerilee. We're going to spend this morning getting to know one another. Everyone turn to the pony next to you and introduce yourselves."

When Maple turned to his right, he met the green eyes of an earth pony with pastel yellow mane, yellow-green coat, and lots of freckles.

"hey cuz! I haven't seen you around so much, you moved to ponyville?"

"darn right I did!"

Screwball's desk partner on her right was a white unicorn with red, white and blue striped hair. She flinched at the sight of the earth pony's eyes. Screwball eagerly extended her hoof.

"Hi! I'm Screwball!"

The unicorn hesitantly shook her hoof. "Aquafresh."

"Isn't this all exciting?"

"Uh…yeah. Hey, are you…?"

Cheerilee tapped her ruler on her desk to get every pony's attention. "Alright, now we're each going to introduce ourselves to the class. State your name and please share something interesting about yourself. I will go first as an example." She cleared her throat. "My name is Cheerilee, I have a strawberry garden, and currently teaching a wonderful class!"

Screwball tried to pay close attention to the others as they introduced themselves, but the only ones she really listened to were her friends.

"I'm cinnamon twist, I like reptiles and ants!"

"I- I'm.... Maple Cinna-cinnamon." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes tight. "I l-like herdin' dogs a...and interior design."

The twins did a hoof bump before Apple Blossom spoke:

"My name is Apple Blossom, I like helping around the house and playing in the flowers."

Dinky was very excited for her introduction: "I'm Dinky Doo and I like muffins!"

Screwball giggled slightly and then realized it was her turn. "I'm Screwball and my dad's the Lord of Chaos!"

The room became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Screwball shrank at the thought that maybe she had gloated, despite what her mother had told her. She had not meant to brag, but the teacher had asked for something interesting, and well, that was the most interesting thing about her.

She could not understand why every pony was so shocked. Based on how the twins were looking at her, she had the feeling that what she said was wrong. Why? It was not like they did not know. It was not like she had grown a second head.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked the teacher.

Cheerilee shook her head. "No, Screwball, you said nothing wrong. Let's continue."

"I'm Aquafresh," the unicorn beside her said, rather shakily, "and my mom's a dentist."

Screwball did not hear the rest of the introductions, or pay attention as Cheerilee began the lesson. She was too busy listening to the whispers of the two colts behind her.

"She's the one my sister told me about! Her daddy's supposed to be a big scary monster!"

"Yeah! I think I saw him this morning!"

"My sister tells me she's as much a freak as he is!"

"Yeah! I mean look at that hat she's wearing!"

She protectively held onto her treasured hat from Aunt Pinkie.

Her head wrenched around her neck as she faced the colts. "I like my hat!"

"Screwball!"

She faced Cheerilee, realizing that she had said that out loud.

"What's going on?" the teacher asked crossly.

"Sorry, Ms Cheerilee," she pleaded. "But…they're saying mean things about me."

"Tattle tale," whispered the boy behind her.

"Is this true, Gold Digger?"

The colt with golden fur and a light green manebshook his head. "No, Ms Cheerilee. We were just talking about her eyes."

The teacher squinted at him. "Your sister was a pupil of mine, so I expect you to be familiar with the rules of this class. Every pony, let it be known that from now on, there will be no talking during the lesson! And boys-"

"yeeees?" They batted their lashes Innocently.

"it's not nice to talk about other ponies' features."

Screwball glanced over at Apple Blossom and tried to copy her pose by sitting upright and folding her hooves on her desk. She could not get in trouble on the first day of school. Mom would get upset.

She flinched as she felt a prick on the back of her neck. She glanced around and shrugged it off, assuming it to be a fly. Then she felt it again. It did not hurt really, but she found it quite annoying. Then something hopped onto her desk: a rubber band. She looked at the golden colt out of the corner of her eye. He and his friend were snickering with pleasure.

She thought of what her father had said numerous times that morning: If any pony makes fun of you, show them who's Boss. She did not want to disappoint her mother, but these colts needed to be taught a lesson. She had to be subtle in her revenge, for Cheerilee knew about her powers.

Screwball glanced at the rubber band that had missed and remembered Aunt Pinkie showing her something called a Cat's Cradle. She smiled deviously as she made a rubber band appear between Gold Digger's legs and copied the trick. When she was successful, she tried it on the other colt.

Then the bell rang for recess and the two boys tripped out of their seats.

"What the…?" Gold Digger uttered, looking at his tied legs.

Two Pegasi, thunder crack and lightning slash, gawked at the sight and gave Screwball a questioning glance. She nodded with a devilish grin.

"Nice," Lightning muttered, giving her a hoof bump.

"Let's get out of here before the teacher notices," Thunder whispered.

The fillies agreed and rushed toward the playground. For the first five minutes of recess, Screwball and Dinky spun a rope while the twins competed over who could jump the longest

"Nine, ten…" Dinky counted. "Uh…what comes after ten?

"Eleven," Screwball continued. "Twelve, thirteen…hey, guys! Watch this!"

She let go of the rope, but it kept spinning as if some pony was still holding that end. Dinky gasped and released her end as well.

"Awesome!" the twins exclaimed.

"We have the coolest friend ever!" Lightning declared.

"And the sneakiest!" Thunder added.

"are you guys Rainbow Dash's kids?"

"aw, we wish! We met at flight camp one day, and we been friends eva since! Practically twins, like the Cinnamons."

"Who wants to play kickball?"

The twins stopped jumping, entangling themselves in the rope.

"I do, I do!" Dinky hopped excitedly

The three laughed at their friend's enthusiasm and followed her to join the other students as they gathered round. Screwball's smile faded when she saw that Gold Digger was the one who had made the announcement. His blue eyes met hers and they gave each other a mutual glare.

"Sorry," he said. "This game is for ponies only!"

"But I am a pony," Screwball insisted.

"No, you're not. You're a Discord. My big sister Diamond Tiara told me so! You saw that big monster?" Gold Digger asked the foals. "That's her daddy!"

"My big sis said your daddy took over Equestria! Three times! He's the baddest of bad guys! He's evil!" Silver platter announced.

Screwball had no idea what he was talking about, but she stomped her hoof in anger. "Daddy's not evil!"

"He is evil! That means you're evil too! Look at her eyes!"

"Hey!" the twins cried, standing in front of their friend.

"Leave her alone!" Thunder crack cried.

"What's wrong with you?" Lightning demanded.

"What's wrong with me?" Gold Digger repeated. "What's wrong with her? She's got funny eyes! Like her dopey friend over there!"

Screwball gasped and glanced at Dinky, who was on the verge of tears. Picking on her was one thing, but no pony made fun of Dinky! No pony! She might look different, but she was not a dope!

Gold Digger made Screwball so mad she just wished the sky would come crashing down on him! The students looked up as a dark shadow covered them and screamed when they saw a piano hurdling directly towards Gold Digger. They all scattered out of the way. Screwball managed to grab Dinky before the instrument hit the ground, smashing into piece

As soon as she heard the crash, Cheerilee rushed out and gasped at the sight of the broken piano. How had that gotten into the schoolyard? She looked towards Screwball, who had a horrified guilty look on her face. She shook violently with her mouth agape.

Fluttershy knew something was up when her daughter did not come out of the building immediately. Dinky then explained that Cheerilee had kept Screwball after class. Expecting the worst, Fluttershy entered the classroom. Cheerilee was sitting expectedly at her desk, and Screwball on a stool in the corner. As soon as she saw her mother, she faced the wall in shame.

"I appreciate you coming here, Fluttershy," the teacher said softly, yet bluntly.

"What's going on?" the pegasus inquired.

"Have a seat, Fluttershy."

Fluttershy pulled up a chair and sat across from Cheerilee.

"It appears that there was a little…accident today."

The pegasus glanced over at Screwball. "What happened?"

"Well…how do I put this? A piano dropped from the sky."

Fluttershy's eyes widened in shock. "A piano?!"

"Yes. I checked, and there was no moving cart in the sky at the moment."

"You think…Screwball?"

Cheerilee looked to the filly in the corner. "Well, Screwball?"

She turned her head slowly, wincing at the expression on their faces.

"I didn't mean to!" she insisted. "They were making fun of me and Dinky! I didn't want it to happen! They made me so mad!"

"Honey, you promised you would behave!" Fluttershy shouted, almost too loudly.

"They called Daddy evil!"

Her mother's angry expression changed into one of fear. She then faced the teacher again.

"I assure you it won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Cheerilee said, solemn. "I understand that it's hard to keep it in check, and I can give you some resources to help with the situation."

The filly slid off the stool and smiled nervously up at her mother. The tragic glare she received in return caused her to hang her head. The room was suddenly all too tall, all too cold and empty, nowhere there was a sight of life.

"We're going to talk with your father about this."

"Would serve the brat right for picking on my daughter!"

They were sitting at the dinner table. Fluttershy had just explained the events at school.

"I also tied his hooves into a Cat's Cradle," Screwball admitted, picking at her peas.

Her father guffawed. "You did?! What'd you use? A string or rubber band?"

"Rubber band. He threw rubber bands at me first."

"Giving him a taste of his own medicine, huh?" He clapped his hands. "Genius! Pure genius, that's what it is!"

"He said you were evil," Screwball stated.

They both turned to her with wide eyes.

...

"Who told you that?" Discord demanded, quiet, as if afraid to rouse awake some deep feeling locked away in a bitter sharp tower with a moat of red roses.

"Gold Digger," she replied. "He said you were evil, and that I was evil too. That I wasn't a pony like they are."

"Sweetheart," her mother said, stroking her mane tenderly. "You're not evil and neither is your father."

Screwball looked her father in the eyes. "He said you took over Equestria."

Discord shrank guiltily into his seat. "Um…yes. I took over Equestria once…or twice, but that was a long time ago."

"You see, honey," Fluttershy explained, "your father was…evil, long before we met."

"Seems like a thousand years ago," the draconequus reminisced. "Actually, it was. I was ostracized because of my appearance and well…you could say I went crazy…like you did today with the piano. The princesses punished me by turning me to stone for a thousand years. When I was released…I met your mother. We didn't start on the friendliest of terms. She was one of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, the only things that could defeat me. Of course, now just a look from your beautiful mother can do that..." He winked at her and she couldn't help but smile as she rolled her eyes.

"I came up with a plan to dispose of the Elements of Harmony, but that didn't work out, so I tried something else. You see, I…"

He did not want to go into detail of what had happened. He did not want his daughter to think him a monster. Thankfully, Fluttershy summed it up gently.

"He said he would leave Equestria be in exchange for a willing bride."

He sighed in relief. "Yes, I…had grown rather lonely over the years and…your mother was the one who accepted the deal."

Screwball's eyes widened. "You were forced to marry Daddy?"

Fluttershy hesitated. "No princess. I only married him when we fell in love."

"your mother brought out the good in me because she gave me a chance," Discord finished, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Your mother is an amazing mare. Remember that. She was the only one who had truly accepted me back then. I then realized that I could not have Equestria and her at the same time, and I could not live without her, so…"

She took his paw. "We got married."

He grinned and kissed her lightly on the lips, making Screwball gag. "Yes, we did. That's what matters, letting ponies give you a chance."

"So never you mind what Gold Digger said."

"But he made fun of Dinky too!" Screwball reminded them.

"And that was wrong of him, but if that piano had hit him, would that have made you any better?"

She hung her head. "No."

"Good."

"So…Daddy's not the baddest of bad guys?"

Discord chuckled. "No. Well, once upon a time…" He trailed off as Fluttershy poked him in the ribs. "I mean no! I found something better than chaos."

He smiled at his wife and she returned his smile.

"Remember this, honey," Fluttershy said. "When it comes to love, appearances are insignificant."

"Indeed," Discord agreed. "It's the most powerful form of chaos there is!"

A deep brewing pain seared through Discords's heart. His consciousness seemed outside himself as the girls talked themselves okay again. He couldn't ignore the ringing in his ears as the world became insignificant to him.

Justice and freedom are mutually exclusive.

[jordie-gvf]

ahhh blurb requests!!! could you do like any guy with a reader where they have like a small first fight and then both feel really bad and just cling and cuddle after? :)

josh blurb!

because i literally cannot read for shit, its a marital fight. its very minor!

word count : 802

warnings : a marital fight, arguing

enjoy!

You and Josh had never really gotten into fights. Typically, it was over something very minor. You and Josh had a calendar on the fridge, where you wrote down the schedule for the month. He didn't write down on the calendar that he had a meeting at the studio. 

You came home and saw Lia, Jake's girlfriend at the house, but no Josh. “Where's Josh?” you asked her. She said, “they had a meeting today, he didn't tell you?” 

You shook your head and saw Valerie walk over to your legs. She hugged onto your legs and said, “Mama Mama.” You picked her up and said, “Are you hungry, love?” 

She was at the stage where she was walking and forming more and more words. You saw Lia on the couch with Denali on her chest, a blanket over the both of them. “Was he good today, he's been fussy recently.” you told her. She nodded and said, “He loves his Auntie Lia!” You told her you would be right back, so you could change out of your scrubs.

You smiled and started on dinner. Valerie got chicken, egg noodles, steamed broccoli, and banana. Denali gets BeechNut pear and blueberries with milk. You made yourself the same as Valerie and offered Lia some. She politely declined and placed Denali in his high chair, then left. You handed her $100, but she wouldn't accept it.

Valerie had already known how to properly use a fork, she fed herself, but if she needed help you were there. You fed Denali and burped him. 

You gave Denali a bath first after he ate. You put him down to sleep and then gave Valerie a bath, got her changed, and read to her. 

You went downstairs to see Josh at the kitchen table, eating Chick-Fil-A. He held the bag up and said, “I got you food. How was the hospital, Ma?” 

You snatched the bag from his hand and he held his hands up. “Woah, calm down. It's only me.” 

“You never told me you had a meeting. Wasn't on the calendar either.” you told him. 

“Sorry, last minute. They told us last week.” He said to you,

“You couldn't take five minutes out of your day to write it on the calendar, so I know where you are?” you asked him. 

He sighed and said, “I said I was sorry, alright? Can I eat in peace, please?” 

You grabbed your drink and walked over to the stairs. “Where are you going, Mama?” he questioned you. “I'm going upstairs, to let you eat in peace.” you said and went to your bedroom. You locked the door behind you and sat at your vanity, and grabbed your chicken sandwich. You smiled at the label, “EXTRA PICKLE.” He always knew what you liked. You grabbed the mac and cheese out of the bag and ate it. 

You heard the door knob jiggle followed by a, “Really? Can you open the door please?” You unlocked the door and walked over to your bathroom. He followed you into your bathroom, but you closed and locked that door too. You took all your jewelry off, including your wedding ring, and put it to the side of the sink. He sighed and put his head up against the bathroom door. 

You paid him no attention and continued on with your shower. You were in the bathroom for about an hour, you took an ‘everything’ shower and did your skincare and did your hair. You opened the door to see Josh, on the floor, next to the door. As soon as you opened it, he perked up and got onto his feet. You walked over to the closet and picked out your pajamas, a black shirt and your budweiser pants.

He trailed after you and said, “You gonna close the door on me again?” 

You scoffed and said, “Only if you give me a reason to,” 

He went inside the closet and took his clothes off, opting to sleep in his boxers. He glanced at your hand and said, “Where's your ring? You never take your ring off.” You grabbed it from the bathroom and said, “Don't worry, you're gonna have to stick with me. I ain't leaving anytime soon.” 

He smiled and said, “Good, cause neither am I.” You two got into bed and faced each other. He grabbed your waist and said, “I'm sorry. You're right, I should've put it on the calendar.” You shook your head and told him, “No, It's my fault, I shouldnt of snapped at you. I was just worried about you. I just want to know where you are.” 

He laid his head on your chest and soon you heard soft snores coming from his mouth. You kissed his forehead and snuggled up close to him.

[enkisstories]

That evening John caught Daniel making mac 'n cheese from whatever imaginary ingredients were available in the plane they were inhabiting.

John: "I'm not hungry, but I apprecciate the gesture nonetheless!"

Daniel: "Pfft! You will make your own sandwiches from now on. This is for me!"

John: "But don't you, as an android, need to eat even less than a ghost?"

Daniel: "Android-ghost. I thought I was above human needs, but then shit happened. Literally. It was gross!"

John: "Yeah, I noticed. But it makes sense, you know? We still are not back in pure soul form, there is an ectoplasmatic shell around us. And that one is subject to the usual wear and tear. It needs fuel and will shed waste."

John: "Anything else that happened today? C'mon, tell me about your day!"

Daniel: "Really?"

John: "Really! We're a family, I got that now."

Daniel: "Not just because you have a crush on me?"

John: "Erm..."

Daniel: "I found a tarot card lying on the ground. It basically told me that I'm standing between light and darkness, but not in the way of needing to decide. This mixed nature seems to be a good thing for me."

Daniel: "Then I happened upon the ghost of a girl. She was sitting in a puddle of what I believed where her own tears next to her tombstone. The inscription said she drowned, though, and that she had been a prankster in life."

Daniel: "Well, and that checked out. Don't ask me how, but I ran away for my very unlife. So I thought, you, as a father, would probably have a better rapport with the girl? Her name is Edith."

John: "Let me think... Are you talking to the man who got an android to deal with the parenting difficulties in his place?"

Daniel: "Oh, right. Are you good for anything at all?"

John: "You won't believe it, I'm already forging business contacts left and right in the spirit world! There's an artifact salesman..."

Daniel: "John!!! If somebody offers you a deal, they are most likely after your soul! And we ARE our souls, so selling yours basically means eternal slavery!"

John: "Oh... I'll be careful, then!"

At this point the Phillips remembered that there were two more ghosts haunting this apartment, the officers Wilson and Deckart. Asked about little pranksters, they replied in unision: "Speak no further! The Renegades are whom you'll want! If anybody can give the ghost girl a run for her money, then Max Villareal and their gang!"

John: "Alright. Looks like Daniel has found his soul journey quest. He will enlist this gang to help him appease the angry ghost girl, while I go look for my dead androids."

"What about Tony and me?" Marlon wanted to ask, but reconsidered. As police officers, he and his partner were something like useful npc to this man, not persons in their own right, who had as complex lifes as John and their own soul journey to ponder. That much the duo had already learned about John Phillips.

[humaforever]

Can I get a kid’s menu and a rum and coke, please?

(Huma?)

Thank you for the prompt. This was a self fluff indulgence but I hope you like it.

___________________________________________

"This food is like... disgustingly fancy" Harry said as he looked at the menu with a scowl

Uma raised her brow and looked at him "How so?"

"Why are they adding so many extra ingredients? What even is a sauteed onion?" Harry said

Uma couldn't help but agree, this food almost seemed too fancy.

"But it's still better than the food we had on the isle so I'm not gonna be too upset" Uma said

"I'm not sure that's even true. This shit sounds gross" Harry frowned

"Since when are you mister picky" Uma said

"Since I heard that tangy, aged goat cheese was a thing" Harry read off the menu in displeasure

Before Uma could respond, the waiter came to their table and asked for their drink order.

"I'll have a mimosa, thanks" Uma told the waiter

"And for you sir?"

"I want rum and coke" Harry said, "And I'll also be needing a kid's menu" he added

Uma closed her eyes and bit her cheek to stop herself from laughing at the bewildered look that crossed the waiters face.

"Of course" the waiter gave Harry an all to cheery smile before he left

Uma turned to Harry with a smirk "You really couldn't handle the big kid menu today huh? You're still too little for that" She teased

"Not my fault they only offer the good shit to the kids" Harry said

"What? Mac and cheese and applesauce?" Uma smiled as she continued to taunt him

"Exactly" Harry said somewhat sarcastically

"Okay" Uma shrugged "Anything for the wittle baby" she snorted out a laugh

"Make fun of me now but you won't be laughing when you're jealous of my food" Harry said smiling himself

"Do you think that waiter has ever had a grown man order alcohol and then proceeded to ask for a kid's menu?" Uma said

"He has now. You know how I love to leave a mark in everybody's life" Harry gave her a wink

"Yes, I know you can't leave a place without making sure everybody knows you were there" Uma said flatly

"What is the point if not to make a scene?" Harry said

"And this is exactly why you are banned from multiple establishments" Uma said

"You can't blame me for the last one really, it was just too tempting not to pull the fire alarm. Anyone would've done it" Harry told her

Uma couldn't help but cringe at the memory.

Eventually the waiter came back to deliver their beverages and Harry's menu.

"Hey would you look at that, kids eat free" Harry told Uma

"You think you can pass for a twelve year old?" Uma said

"Probably not, but we're gonna dine and ditch anyway so it's fine" Harry said

Uma gave him and unimpressed glance "Harry"

"Kidding love, only kidding" Harry sing songed

Uma knew that Harry would actually love to dine and ditch but that was very illegal.

"Look at this, I told you everything on the kid's menu is better!" Harry suddenly exclaimed "They have chicken tenders in the shape of a heart"

Uma curiously looked over at his menu "What part of the chicken does that come from?" She raised her brow

"Doesn't matter. It's fucking cool" Harry said as he took a sip of his rum

Uma shrugged slightly "It is kinda cool" she said barely above a whisper

"The peanut butter and jelly sandwich comes with a cookie that looks like a jellyfish" Harry informed Uma

"Wait what?" Uma said trying not to sound too excited over the thought of a cookie that looked like a jellyfish

"Yeah, see" Harry showed her

Maybe Harry was actually on to something here

"Hang on lemme see this" Uma gently guided the paper out of Harry's hand so she could get a closer look

"There's even a cool ass coloring page" Harry pointed out

Well...

Okay, so Uma may have been slightly hypocritical. Because she hadn't previously been aware of the fact that the kid's menu was far superior.

Both Harry and Uma would end up ordering from the kid's menu. Because even though it wasn't as fancy, it was more fun. They even colored in that coloring page together. After all they never got this in their childhood.

Uma had made fun of Harry, yes, but as it turns out, it is actually quite exhilarating to drink booze with your heart shaped chicken tenders and jellyfish cookies.

[pbandjesse]

I was not feeling to bad today but right at the end of the afternoon I absolutely fell apart and I feel horrible tonight. But I will go to sleep soon and hopefully it will fix me.

I didn't sleep amazing. I lost my phone over the side of the bed and wouldn't be able to find it until my alarm went off at 7. But I felt okay. I got up and got dressed and tried my best to be okay. But it was tough. Today would be tough even though I wasn't as actively nauseous for a lot of it. I would just be kind of bleh.

I really had to pull myself together to not be snippy. I was more quick to anger then I was proud of. But I was really trying my best.

I got to camp and set things up. I had my breakfast. I felt okay. It was a very very humid day. It was supposed to storm but it didn't rain? It was just oppressively humid.

The groups would be pretty good though. We did lose another hammock to tearing. Sad. But I am not even exactly sure how it happened. It just had a hole all of a sudden. And even though it wasn't actually torn all the way yet, I took it down in an abundance of caution. I didn't need a kid falling down.

I did a lot of knitting today. I made 4 more squares. I am making excellent progress.

I did have a fun day. I enjoyed talking to councilors and the kids. I just wasn't feeling very good.

I would bring Mac and cheese to lunch. They had waffle fries and cheese sauce so I also had a little plate of cheese fries. I said hello to the kitchen staff and had a nice time sitting with specialty staff for a bit. But pretty quickly I went to hang in my hammock.

I did stop to talk to Heather and got the camp credit card to buy plaster for next week. And collected a bunch of lost and found from outside the picnic grove. But mainly it was time to chill.

When I got back up to my building I found a few other counselors taking their break in some of my hammocks. Fine with me. It was nice to hear them chatting and laughing. I was just enjoying laying down. It was a nice day.

I was a little anxious about the afternoon. 4 groups in a row is a lot. But it would mainly be fine. It was. Just a lot of answering the same questions. And I was tired.

Day camp was fine. Bontkirchen was nice and fun. I enjoyed teaching them how to make bead lizards and just talking. And then horse camp came last and they smelled like horses which turned my stomach a bit but they were nice. Silly. Teasing eachother a ton but no one was actually upset. They have one little boy and he's a very good sport for how much they were teasing him, he was getting them right back. It was great.

Aaron texted me asking if I wanted some of the eggs from our chickens. And I said yes. So he would bring me 4 eggs (there has been 5 but one broke) and asked me to let him know if the difference eggs tasted different (we have two types of chickens). I promised I would.

I went to get dinner at Wawa. I am really glad I did that because the drive was miserable. While I had been mainly fine all day. Only a little nausea. During my drive I felt like I was going to throw up. It was terrible.

Eating did help. I got my sandwich and chips.sns sipped water in the car. Even the idea of soda made me queasy. I sucked on lemon candy and tried to be okay.

Home Depot was miserable. I circled and circled and circled. I thought I was doing good at first. Finding the ornamental grasses (I wanted the tallest plants I could find for under $20. These were $12) and the plaster. But I was struggling to find anything else on my list. I was not having a good time.

I would ask for help but nothing was working. I did get the brackets for the bathroom shelf at least. I would pay but I was disgusted by how poorly the trip went and was very upset.

I passed a Lowe's so I tried there too but no luck and the workers were very laissez-faire about what I was asking. So rather then crying in the garden center I just bought two planters for the grass I got at Home Depot and went home.

I melted down in the car after I parked. I was struggling to get my things inside. I called James but they weren't answering and I had to set off an alarm on their phone to get them to see my message and I hate doing that. And then the package with the replacement parts for our roomba was stolen off our steps. I didn't even mean to send it to the house. I meant to send it to camp. And I screamed into the couch and was just so upset. I wouldn't even let James sit with me. I couldnt take it.

I needed to just lay there on the couch for a long time.

James was making a little pizza. They would take a shower and then went on a little walk to give me some space while I was trying to calm down.

When they got back they would repot my grass for the backyard. I think it looks great and I'm excited for our backyard coming together.

I would try to make things better by buying the things I couldn't find at the store on Amazon. And I did some research and was able to find lattice to add to our fence so the gap at the bottom won't be an issue anymore. We had lattice under our deck when I was a kid and I always liked how it looked. James is going to order it so I can pick it up tomorrow. And hopefully it works out the way I am picturing it.

I took a bath and some Tylenol. And my head ache is going away I think. But I'm going to sip water and try and sleep. And hopefully tomorrow I feel a little better and less sad. Fingers crossed.

I love you all. Goodnight everybody.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #272

I finally got around to making those epic noms today!

Okay, so like… I've been taking this celecoxib stuff for a bit now. It's not as though I am in no pain, but it is, at very least, significantly reduced. Aside from that night I got like 4-5 hours sleep, so far I have a lot more energy, simply because it doesn't hurt nearly as much to do very basic things, like put on my shoes, or breathe, or yawn, or do dishes. It's pretty freaking rad!!

So I woke up, made myself a nifty sandwich (I used some of the garlic pudding that J made as a spread, and balanced out the flavor a little with mayo and the result was… *chef's kiss!*), and went to the appointment at the sleep doctor place.

I gotta use a CPAP, you see, because my lower jaw is a bit too small to hold all the soft tissue inside my face. I use the CPAP so that those soft tissues don't collapse in the night and cause me to partially suffocate over and over again. It was the yearly checkup to make sure that the CPAP is working as intended; it's got special software to monitor how well I'm breathing when I sleep, and it sends that data to the sleep place. Things are working mostly good! But the lady who handles my file upped the maximum allowable air pressure just in case.

Unexpectedly, she asked me about the plush of you that I carry with me. And so I told her a little about you, and about what I'm trying to do for you. She seemed… moved. Moved by the notion that your existence helped me to get through my childhood alive. Moved by your struggle. And… moved by the picture of your face that I showed her. She took one look at you, and she said that you are very beautiful.

…Sephiroth… I think… even if you never call yourself a monster again, it'll still be too soon. Don't do it anymore, okay?

Anyhoot, I was struck by some of the scenery around where the office for that place is, and I thought you might like it too, so... I snapped a few pictures. Here...

I returned home. At some point, I got a picture of Mogwai napping very cutely, as he do:

Anyway, so after that, I finally got to work on the epic noms I intended to make! I got a tiny sugar pumpkin, and J kindly cut it in half for me and scooped out all the seeds:

...I'll probably roast those seeds tomorrow!!! It'll be good!!

Anyway, the next step is to roast the pumpkin. First, you preheat your oven to 350 degrees F (or about 176.6 degrees C), and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. While the oven is pre-heating, you put brush some melted butter onto the fleshy side of the pumpkin halves...

Then you stick 'em flesh-side-down on the cookie sheet, and stab the skin full of holes so that steam can exit properly:

...Pop 'em in the oven for about 50 minutes, and they're done!

...From there, we scoop the flesh out of the skin with a spoon:

...Then we mash it up with some yummy stuff! In this case, I used honey, maple syrup, and some of that awesome garlic pudding!

...But then it was time for J and I to go get the third and final dose of the HPV vaccine (yay!). So we did that! I got some pictures along the way...

The sky looked like a watercolor painting today, even if my camera didn't capture it well.

For whatever reason, J decided to take pictures of me taking pictures, too, haha...

Anyway, then I went home! And I cooked that steak!!

I also made mac and cheese! Here's the finished spread:

...Want some...?

...I'd give anything to be able to hand you this plate. It was absolutely fucking delicious.

I got one more picture, too, while I was putting this all together; maybe you'll like it:

...I've got a few more pictures I wanna show you, taken by J. But I think those will have to wait until tomorrow; it's going on 1:00am where I live.

...Hey. Stay safe out there, okay? Because you're loved. And I hope that's clear to you, from all these pictures and all these things I'm trying to show you, all the things I wish I could share with you, and all these little ways I'm trying to call you back to the light, even from an entire reality away.

I love you. And I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[hoperays-song]

On a scale of "master chef" to "could set a bowl of cereal on fire", how are the Sing characters at cooking?

Oooooo, great ask! Thank you! Here's a bit of an explanation and a rating from 1-10 (10 being the best). I hope you enjoy! -<3 Gooseless

------------------------------------------------

Ash: 5

She's starting to learn how to cook from Rosita after Sing 1 but before that she was mainly surviving off of fast food. She never learned to cook from her parents as they often weren't home and she herself left home young. She's not horrible but not the best by any means.

Barry: 6

He can cook but only a few basic things like grilled cheese and oatmeal. While preferring not to cook, he does have to as Stan cannot and they were in charge of watching Johnny when he was little.

Buster: 2

...He can make sandwiches and that's about it. Even some of those flavour combinations can be extremely questionable.

Clay: 9

He is an amazing chef, having learned from both sides of his family. He cooks a fair mix of both Cajun and Irish dishes and briefly considered being a chef before pursuing music. He now is focusing on teaching Ash some of his recipes. Cooking is essentially a love language for him and he will bring food to almost any gathering.

Darius: 1

Burned cup Mac and Cheese and nearly got kicked out of his apartment... enough said.

Eddie: 2

He can heat up Cup Noodles safer than Buster can and make a few sandwiches... but that's about it.

Gunter: 3

The fanciest thing Gunter can make is boxed Mac and Cheese and he will forget the ingredients in even that. He can actually tell what flavours go together unlike some others but also always burns toast. He isn't that good at this.

Harry: 2

While he can make like a PB&J sandwich, there's a reason they and Darius mostly eat fast food. He sucks at cooking, not as bad as Darius but that's a very low bar.

Johnny: 7

Grew up with tons of home-cooked meals by both his dad and his neighbors, he's surprisingly good at cooking. He does need to follow a recipe exactly but he started practicing more when he lived with Rosita and has kept that practice going into the Majestic stay with phone calls to his dad for help. A lot of his happy childhood memories are cooking with his dad.

Marcus: 9

He learned to cook for his wife when she got too sick to be able to do so. He uses his wife's old cookbook to this day (her father was a chef) and is very good at it. Cooking is essentially a love language for him and he makes sure that when Johnny is at home he gets at least two home-cooked meals a day. He's had over 18 years of practice so he's a very good chef.

Meena: 7

She is much better at baking than cooking but she does know a few recipes. Her grandparents were actually the ones to teach her their old recipes when it comes to savory foods while her mom taught her deserts. She's good but she does credit that too a lot of practice as she much prefers working with sweeter foods. Most of her childhood was spent in the kitchen with her family though and it was a huge family bonding thing for them.

Mike: 1

He does not even know how to boil water.

Mrs. Crawly: 4

Not horrible but will commonly forget what she's cooking or what she already added so you never know what you're gonna get. She can make really good Turkish Delights though.

Nana: 6

While she is a decent cook, she doesn't have to cook for herself and therefore has fallen out of practice doing so. She is still disappointed in Eddie and Buster's cooking abilities.

Nancy: 5

She knows the basics but nothing even close to fancy. She and Mike eat out a lot.

Nooshy: 1

Has legit burned water while trying to boil it, they are not allowed with arms-reach of even a microwave. They are as bad as Darius.

Norman: 6

Decent chef, he knows how to make a few basics for the kids but he's never really been one to be talented in the kitchen. The most unique dish he can make is roasted potatoes.

Porsha: 1

She has never cooked a day in her life and has no idea what to do or where to start.

Rosita: 9

Rosita is an amazing cook and grew up helping her grandmother in the kitchen. She is constantly coming up with creative ways to get the kids to eat and try new foods. Rosita also has several family recipe books that she uses for most of her meals. She also taught Meena, Ash, and Johnny a lot of basics when it came to cooking. It functions as a love language for her as it allows her to take care of others.

Ryan: 6

Food is really difficult for him for various different reasons but he can cook. He is pretty decent at it, learning how to to help with his sisters, even though everyone always exaggerates how bad he actually is. His manman and mom taught his growing up.

Stan: 2

He once nearly got him and Barry evicted for starting a fire in a microwave. Marcus will not let him cook for his son in any way shape or form. Stan is a terrible chef and more than happy to let others cook for him.

Suki: 8

She's lived alone almost all her life and going out to eat in Redshore is crazy expensive. She taught herself to cook with the occasional help of some of her old mentors. Suki is pretty good at it and specializes in stir-frys as they are quick to make after work.

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In Order From Worst To Best:

Nooshy-Darius-Porsha

Buster-Stan-Harry

Gunter-Mrs. Crawly

Ash-Norman-Nana

Ryan-Barry

Johnny-Meena-Suki

Marcus-Rosita-Clay