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justabigassnerd · 3 months

Text

A Safe Home

Pairing - Tim Bradford x teen!reader

Word count - 8,174

Warnings - Tim shows signs of slight anxiety (it's my fic and I pick how I self-project onto Tim Bradford), brief mentions of Tim's dad, fluff, angst, inaccurate descriptions of how fostering works, swearing, mentions of guns

Summary - after his talk with Lucy, Tim decides to move forward with the idea of fostering you

Sequel to 'Unexpected Bond'

A/N - hey y'all, back at it again with part two of my previous Tim fic (this is what happens when y'all encourage me). I had a lot of fun exploring this second part and honestly, I did have another idea pop into my head regarding this story so that may or may not happen. anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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After spending most of the night scouring the internet in search of answers to his question, Tim had finally come up with a game plan. As soon as he woke up in the morning, he placed a call to an agency, asking to be considered for fostering and he managed to get lucky with them having an opening for an interview that afternoon. With the interview secured, Tim then called Sergeant Grey and asked for a personal day which thankfully was approved which meant Tim could put his whole attention on impressing at his interview.

After walking Kojo, Tim got back home and found an email from the agency on his phone, with a list of things he needed to prepare for the interview. He let out a soft sigh as he read that he needed a letter of reference from his boss which meant he had to go to work to ask Grey for such a letter. He was hoping he would be able to prepare everything in the privacy of his own home but he figured he owed Grey a face-to-face conversation about why he needed a reference. After making sure Kojo was settled, Tim made his way out to his truck and made the drive to the station, silently glad he was going to arrive at the station after role call meaning most of the patrolling officers would already be gone, saving him from questioning from Lucy.

Arriving at the station, Tim entered the building, making his way back to Grey’s office and knocking on the door, waiting for Grey to wave him in.

“Bradford, I thought you were taking a personal day.” Grey muses, focused on the paperwork on his desk as Tim enters the room.

“I wasn’t planning on coming in. I just needed to ask you for something.” Tim says, standing before the desk, watching as Grey’s gaze shifts, looking up at Tim.

“What is that?” Grey asks, eyebrow raised as he sits back in his chair.

“I’m… well I am planning on trying to foster a kid and one of the things I need for my interview this afternoon is a reference from my boss and-”

“Fostering a kid? I must admit I wasn’t expecting that. If you need a reference then I’ll write one up for you. I’ll email you when it’s done.” Grey says with a nod, making Tim sigh lightly in relief, shoulders sagging slightly as he visibly relaxes.

“Thank you,” Tim says gratefully.

“It’s okay, Bradford,” Grey says warmly, smiling at Tim.

“If it’s not too much to ask, could this stay between us? If the fostering goes forward I don’t want her getting overwhelmed by people before she’s had a chance to settle in.” Tim requests, receiving a nod from Grey.

“This conversation will not leave this room. I promise.” Grey assures, his words filling Tim with confidence before he nods, thanking Grey one last time before heading out of the office and back out to his truck to head home.

Upon getting home, Kojo greeted Tim happily once he got home, acting as if Tim had been away for days. Tim then grabbed his laptop, opened it up and began to familiarise himself with what to expect from the interview while he waited for Grey to send the reference. Kojo hopped up alongside Tim and flopped alongside him on the sofa.

“Hey buddy, how do you feel about someone else living with us?” Tim asks the dog quietly, reaching out to pet him as Kojo’s tail thumps against the sofa, seemingly giving Tim the seal of approval. Tim reads through what to expect what feels like hundreds of times until he notes the time and realises he should go and visit you. After closing his laptop, Tim gathers the candy and books he bought you and puts them in a small gift bag before picking it up and heading back out to the truck to drive to the hospital. Tim had an easy journey to the hospital and made his way to your room with little issues. As he approached your room he noticed that the door was closed and worry began to grab at him, worrying that something had happened to you but thankfully as he stuck his head around the doorframe, he found you lying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through the tv channels in the naive hope of finding something worth watching. However, at the movement by the door, your eyes were drawn away from the tv and when you realised it was Tim you lit up, smiling as you lightly invited him in.

“Officer Bradford, what are you doing here?” You ask, turning the tv off before focusing your attention on Tim who shakes his head lightly at your choice of words when it comes to addressing him.

“Please, call me Tim. I thought I’d swing by to check on you and I also bought you some things to hopefully help this time in hospital a bit better.” Tim says, smiling softly as he approaches your bedside, offering the bag out towards you.

“Offic- Tim. You didn’t need to bring me anything.” You say, eyes flicking between the bag and Tim.

“I wanted to,” Tim says, taking a single step closer and holding the bag up towards you so you have no choice but to take it which you do after a brief silence. When you take the bag, you place it down in your lap, slowly extracting the items and taking a moment to appreciate every single thing he has gotten you.

“I’m sorry if this isn’t really your kind of stuff. I just googled things and hoped for the best.” Tim says, concerned by your silence and already trying to backtrack and explain himself.

“No, please don’t apologise. This is perfect. Thank you.” You say, looking up at Tim with a small smile and teary eyes, gratefulness obvious in every aspect of your expression.

“You’re welcome, y/n,” Tim says softly, moving to sit down on one of the chairs that sat alongside your bedside.

“How have you been? Feeling better?” Tim then asks, watching carefully as you nod, already ripping open one of the packets of candy.

“My side still hurts if I move too much but I’d take that pain over being dead.” You say with a slight shrug, offering the bag towards Tim and motioning for him to take one which he refuses at first but after a look from you, he concedes and takes one, thanking you quietly.

“No one’s tried to bother you while you’re here, have they?” Tim then asks, wanting to ensure everything is okay.

“I don’t think anyone knows or cares that I’m here.” You admit quietly, eyes flicking from Tim to the bed cover, picking at the corner of it to distract yourself.

“I spoke to one of my friends, she’s a detective and she’s agreed to help me open an investigation into the home you’re in. I’m going to follow along with it and make sure that something happens to that home.” Tim then says, letting you know about his plans to deal with things.

“I don’t know what to say.” You say quietly yet gratefully. Your whole life you’d been constantly let down by adults who were supposed to look out for you. Teachers looked the other way when you were bullied and Stan had never lifted a finger to help you at the children’s home. But now, Tim was doing everything he could to help you. Someone you had only met the day before was already putting in the effort to help you when no one else would.

“You don’t need to say anything, kid. I want to help you out however I can.” Tim says, his voice was soft and gentle as he smiles at you.

“You have no idea how much this all means to me.” You say, wiping at your eyes to conceal any possible tears from Tim.

“I’m just doing my job,” Tim says, shaking his head softly as you smile softly, your hand dropping back down to your lap. You and Tim then spend some time talking some more, and the more you talk, the more Tim knows he wants to foster you. He knew how it felt to constantly be let down by people you’re supposed to look up to so he wasn’t going to let himself be one of those people towards you. He wanted to make sure you knew you had at least one person on your side. After about half an hour of chatting with you, Tim noticed the time and realised he needed to head back to his to get ready for his interview with the foster agency.

“I’ve got to head out. If you need anything you have my number. Take care.” Tim says, getting up and excusing himself.

“Have a good day.” You say with a smile as Tim crosses to the door, making him smile back at you softly. He longed to tell you that he was putting himself forward to foster you but he also knew he didn’t want to get your hopes up, and then for everything to fall through. He wouldn’t be able to face you going back to a home after everything you had been through.

“I’ll see you around, kid,” Tim says softly before exiting your room, making his way out of the hospital so he can head home to prepare for the interview. When he got home, Tim showered and changed into some smarter clothes before rereading what to expect in his interview so he could be thoroughly prepared for any questions that could be thrown his way during the interview process as well as forwarding the reference Grey had written to the agency. As he finishes reading up the page, Tim puts his laptop away and makes his way out to his truck to begin the drive to the agency. The drive was silent, other than the rumble of the engine and the radio playing quietly. During the drive, Tim kept going over everything in his head to make sure he had solid, planned answers ready when he was questioned. When Tim finally arrived at the agency, he got out of his truck and made his way in, making sure to take one last deep breath before walking in and approaching the woman at the front desk.

“Hi, I’m Tim Bradford. I’m here for an interview about fostering.” Tim says once he reaches the desk, smiling at the woman as she nods and types something into the computer at her desk.

“Yep, you’re good to go and take a seat, Julia will be out shortly.” The woman says with a smile, gesturing towards the seats behind Tim as he nods, thanking her before heading over to a seat, sitting down in it and pulling his phone out of his pocket to pass the time until he’s called in for his interview.

“Tim Bradford?” A female voice draws Tim’s attention away from his phone and he looks up to see a woman with a soft smile who gestures him over.

“Hi.” Tim greets, smiling as he reaches out to shake the woman’s hand.

“Hello, Tim. I’m Julia. If you just follow me into my office we’ll get this interview started.” Julia says lightly, leading Tim back into her office. Entering the office, Julia takes a seat behind her desk while offering Tim a seat in front of the desk which he sits on, waiting for the interview to begin.

“So, Tim, what was it that made you want to start fostering?” Julia starts, pulling up the forms Tim had filled out on her computer, skimming them once more before focusing back on Tim.

“I got involved in a case at work where I helped out a kid and found out she was in a kid's home. I guess I wanted to be a positive adult figure in her life and fostering her would not only give her the support she needs, but it would get her out of that home.” Tim says, making sure he’s completely honest with Julia.

“It sounds like you already have someone in mind when it comes to fostering.” Julia muses softly, receiving a nod in return from Tim.

“Yeah, her name is y/n l/n. I found her injured yesterday at work and when I learnt the whole story I just knew that I couldn’t be another adult in her life who lets her down. She needs a stable and safe environment and I’d like to be the one who gives it to her.” Tim says, studying Julia’s reaction carefully, hoping he hasn’t tripped up so soon into the interview.

“That leads me nicely to my next topic. I’ve read your reference from your boss, Sergeant Grey. So, you’re in the LAPD. Do you think your job may have any effect on your ability to care for a child?” Julia then asks, looking from the computer to Tim who exhales softly, glancing down at his lap briefly before looking back up at Julia.

“I am very good at keeping my personal and work life separate. I only work overtime when truly necessary. I believe I’d be more than capable of looking after y/n.” Tim says, keeping his voice level and trying not to take her words as a personal attack. After about ten more minutes of questions and answers between the two of them, Julia leans back in her chair, looking over at Tim.

“Well, you have a steady income, glowing reference, and you seem very committed to the idea of fostering y/n so I can’t say you’re a bad candidate for fostering but I also cannot guarantee anything, you know how it is,” Julia says, smiling sympathetically at Tim as he nods, understanding that she was simply covering her bases. He knew that she wasn’t able to make promises in case things fell through, the same way he wasn’t allowed to promise victims that everything would be okay.

“I understand. But if there is any chance I can foster y/n, I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Tim says with a nod, hoping deep down that everything lined up perfectly and he’d get to foster you. As Julia got up from her desk, he conjured another plan in his head just moments before he stood up to shake her hand once more.

“It was lovely to meet you, Tim. We’ll be in contact with an update.” Julia says as she releases Tim’s hand, watching as he nods and thanks her before exiting her office, thanking the lady at the desk as he left, the second he left the building he dug his phone out of his pocket, finding Angela’s number and dialling it, lifting the phone to his ear as it began to ring.

“Who have you killed?” Angela jokes upon picking up the phone, making Tim roll his eyes.

“Hilarious. I just wanted to ask you something.” Tim says, beginning to walk over to his truck.

“Shoot,” Angela says, leaning back in her chair as she awaits Tim’s response.

“I was wondering if there’s any way Wesley might know how to help me get approved to foster a kid?” Tim says. Upon hearing Angela’s slight gasp, and the sound of her getting out of her chair to find some privacy, he began to wonder if it was worth asking her.

“Is this about that kid in the children’s home you were telling me about yesterday?” Angela asks in a hushed tone, clearly still making her way through the station.

“Yeah… but you can’t tell anyone. I just had my interview with an agency and while I know they can’t guarantee that I’ll get accepted as a foster carer, and they can’t guarantee I’ll get to foster y/n. I was just wondering if Wesley knows anyone who could help me out or something?” Tim tries, getting into his truck and settling behind the wheel while Angela ducks into the rec room.

“I can call Wesley to see what he can do. I’ll have him call you when he can.” Angela says, nodding despite knowing that Tim couldn’t see her.

“Thank you, Angela. I owe you one.” Tim says, a smile on his face.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Angela jokes before both she and Tim bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone. Upon ending the conversation, Tim puts his phone away and begins to drive back to his house, fingers lightly drumming against the wheel to ease the anxiety that begins to build up over the length of the drive. When he finally makes it home, he enters his house, gets changed into something comfier and heads to the living room to sit down on the sofa and encourages Kojo to come and sit with him, letting out the softest sigh as Kojo settles down across his lap, the weight helping to ease Tim’s anxieties and helps him relax. After almost half an hour of mindlessly scrolling through various tv channels, Tim’s phone buzzes and he picks it up after seeing Wesley’s name pop up on the screen.

“Wesley.” Tim greets, his empty hand reaching out to pet Kojo as a means to distract himself.

“Hey, Tim. Angela told me about what you asked. I have a contact who may be able to pull some strings but ultimately I can’t guarantee anything.” Wesley says, greeting Tim before getting to business.

“I understand that,” Tim says, nodding lightly at Wesley’s words.

“Between you and me, I think you stand a good chance at getting approved to foster her with the home under investigation.” Wesley then admits while Tim perks up slightly.

“You think?” Tim asks.

“I do. My colleague may be able to get you approved early so you can foster y/n while taking any necessary courses or training just on account of it getting her out of the home during the investigation.” Wesley says, a smile on his face.

“Wesley, I don’t know how to thank you.” Tim breathes out, grateful for how his friends were willing to help him out.

“I’m sure I’ll sure I’ll think of some way for you to repay me,” Wesley says with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair as he hears Tim let out a soft laugh of his own.

“I don’t expect anything less,” Tim replies.

“I’ll talk to my colleague and see what she can do. I’ll be in contact.” Wesley then says, bidding Tim goodbye before they both hang up, leaving Tim to continue blindly scrolling through tv channels, his anxiety now easing a little. After ten minutes of more channel surfing, Tim decides to take Kojo on another walk, just to get out of the house and of course, Kojo was over the moon with the idea of a second walk.

The second walk was longer, and Tim made sure to go to Kojo’s favourite places and spend extra time in the park playing fetch. The walk helped to clear Tim’s head, helping him feel more at ease and more hopeful that with Angela and Wesley’s help, things would work out in his favour. On his way back home, content that Kojo had been sufficiently exercised, Tim’s phone began to ring once more and upon seeing a number he didn’t recognise, he picked up.

“Hello?” Tim answers, taking in the scenery as Kojo sniffs around a tree.

“Hi, is this Tim Bradford?” A male voice on the other end of the phone asks, making Tim raise an eyebrow.

“Yes, it is.” He replies, beginning towards a nearby bench and sitting down on it while Kojo sits at his feet.

“I’m Frank. I’m the head of the local fostering agencies and I’m aware you had an interview with Julia earlier this afternoon. Is that correct?” The man introduces himself as Tim nods lightly.

“I did yes. Is everything okay?” Tim says, and he swears in that brief silence between him speaking and Frank replying, he could feel his throat get tighter, fearing the response he might get.

“So, normally we wouldn’t do something like this but we’ve been made aware of an investigation that’s beginning to happen on the children’s home y/n is in and since you were such a strong and committed candidate, we’ve decided to allow you to foster y/n,” Frank says, and Tim felt the ten-ton weight lift off his shoulders at his words.

“Really?” Tim asks, part of him wondering if this was some elaborate trick.

“Really. Of course, we request that you complete some training but we will allow you to look after y/n to keep her away from the ongoing investigation but I imagine detectives would want to get statements from her if needed.” Frank explains, making Tim nod as he takes in every word.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” Tim promises, already sitting up straighter on the bench.

“That’s what we like to hear. All we need from you right now is for you to come back to the agency and fill out some paperwork for us. We contacted the hospital and they’ve let us know that y/n is cleared to be released from the hospital’s care tomorrow so you have today to prepare for y/n’s arrival. Is that okay?” Frank then says as Tim begins to stand up, walking with Kojo towards his house.

“That’s fine. Thank you.” Tim says, a small smile on his face.

“Good. You’ll also meet y/n’s case worker, Kiara while you’re there. She’ll be there to help you and y/n through this whole process.” Frank then says, giving Tim the last bit of information he needed.

“Thank you so much for all this,” Tim says gratefully, bidding Frank goodbye and hanging up the phone before hurrying back home. The second he gets home, Tim gets Kojo in the house, before heading to his truck and driving back to the agency.

When Tim reaches the agency, he’s greeted by the same woman at the front desk who points him to Julia’s office, telling him they’re waiting for him. So Tim does as he’s told, heading to the office he had been in mere hours before, knocking on the door lightly and entering upon being called in.

“Tim, just the man we were talking about,” Julia says with a smile, gesturing Tim in when she sees him. Tim enters the office, noticing the second woman who he could only assume was Kiara as he sat down on the spare chair that was offered to him.

“I’m Kiara, y/n’s case worker. It’s lovely to meet you.” The second woman confirms Tim’s thoughts as she offers a hand to him and he’s quick to shake her hand in response.

“I’m Tim. But I’m sure you already knew that.” Tim says with a soft chuckle as he settles down in the chair.

“As you know, you’ve got some paperwork to go through with you so let’s get on with that first,” Julia says, pulling paperwork out of one of her files and handing them over to Tim with a clipboard so he can read them over and sign where appropriate once they’ve talked things over. As Tim reads the paperwork over, Julia and Kiara talk him through various parts of everything, making sure he’s clear on everything being your foster parent entails, as well as being told that Kiara was going to swing by his house to do a quick check to make sure he lived in a suitable environment for you. After signing everything and being thoroughly briefed on all the ins and outs of being a foster parent, Tim was finally given the okay to leave the office and he left with Kiara walking alongside him.

“I’ll just follow behind you if that’s okay?” She asks as they exit the building, watching as Tim nods, digging his keys out of his pocket before heading over to his truck while Kiara heads over to her Mini. The drive back to his house had Tim’s anxiety digging in once more as he thought of all the worst-case scenarios that ran through his head. He knew he had no reason for Kiara to not approve him and his house as a suitable place for you to live but he could not help but think of how things could go wrong. Would Kojo throw her off? Would the fact he carries an off-duty weapon be a problem? He tried so hard to focus on the positives but by the time both he and Kiara had parked outside his house, he had convinced himself that everything was going to crash and burn. Tim unlocked his front door and stepped in, causing Kojo to come trotting over to him happily.

“Kojo, sit,” Tim commands, pointing at Kojo who obeys Tim’s command, head tilted slightly as Kiara enters behind Tim.

“You have a dog? Can I say hi?” Kiara asks with a soft smile as Tim nods.

“Kojo, come here boy,” Tim says and Kojo immediately got up and approached the two, sniffing Kiara’s outstretched hand and panting happily as she began to pet him.

“He’s lovely.” Kiara praises.

“He looks tough but he’s a big softie,” Tim admits with a gentle laugh, watching as Kojo flops onto his side for more attention.

“Well, you’re off to a good start with how well-trained Kojo is,” Kiara says as she straightens up, beginning to make her way around the house looking at everything in and around each room while Kojo follows behind her happily. Tim can’t bring himself to follow her at first, feeling rooted in place with how out of control he is in this whole scenario. After a deep breath, Tim then follows after Kiara, listening carefully to all her comments about his house.

“I know you’re a police officer so I have to ask, do you have any firearms in your house?” Kiara asks, no malice in her tone but Tim knew he wouldn’t benefit from lying.

“Yes, I carry an off-duty piece. But I lock it away when I’m not using it and I’d never encourage y/n to use it or even be near it.” Tim explains, leading Kiara to the safe he has hidden away in his bedroom and showing her the handgun he has. As he locks it back away, Tim looks over at Kiara to try and gauge her reaction but Kiara appears to be the best when it comes to having a neutral expression. By the time Kiara had done a full tour of the house, Tim had somehow convinced himself that he’d screwed the whole thing up. As he walked Kiara to the front door, she turned to face him and smiled softly.

“Your house is perfect. y/n will have a great home here.” Kiara says as Tim tries not to let his jaw drop in shock.

“Thank you so much.” He says, feeling like he’s thanked people enough for a lifetime in one day but he had to let people know how grateful he was for their help throughout this whole process. After Kiara leaves, Tim turns his attention to his phone, aware of the text he had received while he was showing Kiara around the house. He found a text from Wesley, saying he had contacted his colleague so Tim replied saying that Wesley’s colleague had helped out a lot and so he thanked Wesley and asked him to pass Tim’s thanks on to his colleague. By the time night fell Tim was lying in his bed wrestling with his conflicting emotions. He was filled with both excitement and anxiety knowing that in a mere few hours, he’d be picking you up from the hospital and officially become your foster parent.

By the morning, Tim was sure he’d only gotten a couple of hours of sleep and that Kojo was fed up with how much he’d been tossing and turning throughout the night. Tim got out of bed after Kojo all but nudged him up, showered and changed before taking Kojo on a morning walk to stretch his legs. Tim had organised a time to meet with Kiara at the hospital to pick you up after informing Grey that he needed another personal day, thankfully Grey was understanding and gave him the rest of the week off so he could help you settle into your new home and routine. So Tim wanted to spend his morning setting up your room and ensuring the house felt as homely as possible ready for your arrival with the time he had.

Once Tim had organised your room, doing the best he could with what he had, he noted the time and realised he needed to begin heading over to the hospital. So he grabbed a jacket and made his way to the front door, stopping to talk to Kojo when he noticed him lying on the floor in the hall.

“Be good, Kojo. I’ll be back soon.” Tim says, petting Kojo on the head as he grabs his keys and makes his way to the front door, heading outside and getting into his truck to drive over to the hospital. Upon arriving at the hospital, Tim met with Kiara in the waiting room of the ward you were in.

“Hello, Tim.” She greets Tim with a smile, approaching him as he meets her halfway.

“Hi,” Tim replies, noticing the bag in Kiara’s hand.

“I went by to collect y/n’s things, she’s getting changed now. A nurse will grab us when she’s ready.” Kiara explains, not missing how Tim had been looking at the bag. At her explanation, Tim nods.

“Does she know I’m fostering her?” Tim then asks, already worrying about your hypothetical reaction to the news.

“I haven’t told her yet. I figured you could be the one to tell her.” Kiara says. As if cued, a nurse enters the waiting room and approaches the two.

“y/n is ready.” The nurse says with a gentle smile, gesturing for them to follow her which they do, heading into the room Tim had become very familiar with.

“Hi Kiara, I’m ready t-” You said, back facing them as you begrudgingly turned around, cutting yourself off when you realised Tim was also present.

“Hey, kid,” Tim says softly, smiling as you mirror his smile with one of your own.

“What’s going on?” You ask, glancing between Tim and Kiara who in turn exchange a look between themselves.

“We have some exciting news.” Kiara starts, both her and Tim watching as your eyebrows furrow in thought.

“I have decided to foster you. If that’s okay with you, of course.” Tim says, watching your reaction carefully, seeing how your eyebrows furrow further before you process his words and your jaw drops in shock, tears filling your eyes.

“Really?” You ask, looking up at Tim who nods lightly at your question.

“If that’s something you want,” Tim affirms and you fall quiet for a brief second, taking a deep breath before speaking up once more.

“Can I hug you?” You ask quietly.

“Of course, come here,” Tim says, extending an arm towards you and you were quick to accept the embrace, winding your arms around his middle and hugging Tim tight. Tim felt your shuddered breaths as you hugged him, making him hold you a little closer.

“Thank you.” You whisper softly, your voice thick with unshed tears.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Tim replies in a hushed tone, squeezing you tighter before releasing you from the hug, allowing you to step back.

“Well with that good news out in the open. Are you ready to get out of here?” Kiara asks, watching as you wipe your eyes with a nod, smiling wider than Kiara has ever seen from you before.

“More than ready.” You say as Kiara hands the bag of your belongings to Tim and gestures for you and Tim to follow her once the nurse has gone over some final healthcare things with you and Tim.

“I went and collected all your stuff from the home so you should have everything. Now all that’s left for you to do is head home with Tim. I will swing by every so often just to check up on you both but I’ll let you have a few days to settle in.” Kiara explains as you make your way through the hospital, heading towards the car park.

“That sounds like a plan. Thank you for everything, Kiara.” Tim says, stopping in front of his truck with you and Kiara mimicking his action.

“It’s been a pleasure. Take care, y/n.” Kiara says, giving you a quick hug in goodbye before making her way back to her own car, leaving you and Tim alone.

“Here, hop in,” Tim says, opening the passenger side door and waiting patiently for you to ease yourself into the truck. Once you’re sat down, Tim closes the door and loads your bag into the back seats, rounding the truck and getting behind the wheel. On the drive back to Tim’s house you maintained some small talk as you watched the world passing you by. You were seeing areas of Los Angeles that you had never seen before and before too long had passed, Tim was parking on the drive to your new home.

“I have a quick question before we head in. Are you okay with dogs?” Tim asks after shutting the engine off, turning in his seat to face you.

“I’ve never really been around any dogs. The only ones around the children’s home were people’s guard dogs so they weren’t very friendly.” You explain shyly, fiddling with your fingers as you think of the dogs that would snarl and bark at you every time you dared walk past their house.

“I promise, Kojo is as gentle as they come. He’s all bark no bite. Tell you what, I’ll head in first, put Kojo in my room so he’s out of the way while you settle in. When you’re ready we can handle introductions. Does that sound good?” Tim says, explaining the plan he had formulated in his head and you nod.

“Okay, that sounds fine.” You say quietly, unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the truck while Tim does the same. You wait patiently for Tim to grab your bag before following him to the front door.

“You stay out here for a minute while I sort out Kojo, I’ll let you know when to come in,” Tim says as he unlocks the front door and you nod, sure you could hear the tapping of claws on the other side of the door. Tim opens the door enough to squeeze through the gap and closes the door behind him, smiling as Kojo approaches, sniffing at his legs curiously.

“Sorry about this buddy, it’s just for a few minutes.” Tim apologises to his dog, gently taking hold of Kojo’s collar and leading him towards his bedroom, opening the door and encouraging Kojo inside, closing the door before he can turn around and rush back out. With Kojo securely tucked away in one room, Tim makes his way back to the front door, opening it and smiling at you.

“Come on in.” He says, picking up your bag and gesturing for you to follow him into the house.

“Wow, this is gorgeous.” You say, awestruck by the house and everything in it.

“It’s not much,” Tim says with a light shrug, making you laugh lightly.

“Here’s better than the home I’ve grown up in.” You say truthfully, making Tim nod lightly as he stops outside your room.

“This is your room. I’m sorry it’s a bit bare but you’re free to decorate it how you want.” Tim says as he opens the door, stepping back to let you take in your new room. You couldn’t stop the tears from welling in your eyes at the sight of the room. Tim wasn’t lying, the room didn’t have much in the way of decorations, and the bedding and walls were all plain white but the idea of getting to make the room your own safe space made you emotional in ways you couldn’t describe.

“This is amazing. I can’t thank you enough Tim.” You say gratefully, taking the bag from Tim’s hand and heading into your room. You place your bag on the end of your bed and take in the beauty of your room. After exploring your room, you then head back out into the rest of the house, pausing when you hear the light scratching of claws against wood.

“Sorry, he’s used to having run of the house.” Tim apologises, noticing how you had paused in place, looking in the direction of Tim’s bedroom.

“No, I’m sorry. I feel bad he’s been locked away just because I’m not used to dogs.” You apologise, feeling bad for Kojo.

“He’ll live, trust me,” Tim says softly.

“Can I meet him? I’ll feel bad keeping him locked away any longer.” You ask, looking up at Tim who nods lightly.

“Only if you’re sure,” Tim asks, watching as you nod.

“I’m sure.” You confirm, making Tim look towards the door.

“You go and settle in the living room. I’ll bring Kojo through.” Tim says, watching you head towards the living room before he opens his bedroom door, immediately catching Kojo by the collar as he attempts to escape the bedroom.

“Whoa there. You need to be a bit calmer.” Tim lightly scolds his dog, carefully leading him to the living room where you are waiting. Tim enters the living room slowly, keeping a firm hand on Kojo to keep him under control.

“y/n, this is Kojo. Kojo, this is y/n.” Tim says, introducing you to Kojo and vice versa.

“Hi, Kojo. You’re really cute.” You say softly, reaching a careful hand out towards him, letting him sniff at your hand from a distance. After Kojo had sniffed at your hand, Tim slowly relinquished his hold on Kojo’s collar, allowing him to step closer to you. Kojo continues to sniff at you, gently licking at one of your hands while your other begins to pet him, bringing a smile to your face.

“I think he likes you,” Tim says, smiling at the interaction between you and Kojo.

“He’s so sweet.” You say quietly, scratching Kojo behind the ear as he pants happily, as he sits down in between your legs. After a few minutes of hanging out with Kojo, Tim decides to offer to help you unpack and settle in and you take him up on his offer, heading back to your room, this time with Kojo accompanying you. You go through your bag, chatting with Tim as you unpack everything. As Tim was putting a jacket of yours away in the wardrobe, he caught sight of you digging through your bag, a panicked expression on your face.

“Are you okay, kid?” Tim asks, turning to face you.

“I can’t find something.” You reply, barely giving Tim any attention as you continue to turf things out of your bag, tears welling in your eyes when you empty the rest of your bag and realise that one precious item is missing.

“What is it?” Tim asks, picking his way through the clothes you’d thrown across your bed to see if what you were looking for had somehow gotten lost in the middle of your t-shirts.

“I… I had a stuffed animal. A small sheep. I’ve had him since I was little and a friend I had gave him to me when she got reunited with her parents. Kiara wouldn’t have known I had him because I hid him in my room so the other kids wouldn’t find him.” You explain, panicked as tears well in your eyes.

“Hey, don’t panic. Tell me where you hid him and I’ll go and get him.” Tim says, gently taking you by the shoulders, and helping you maintain control over your panicked breaths.

“You’d do that?” You ask quietly and your voice thick with tears.

“Of course, I would. If this sheep is important to you I’ll go find him and bring him back here.” Tim says softly, hating the heartbroken and terrified look in your eyes. He could tell this stuffed animal meant the world to you and he was going to get it back for you.

“Thank you.” You whisper, smiling at Tim while wiping at your eyes.

“No problem, kid. Now, tell me where you hid him and I’ll get him back.” Tim says, waiting patiently for you to tell him where you had hidden the teddy. Once you’ve told Tim exactly where you’d hidden it, Tim tells you to stay with Kojo, making his way to his room, grabbing his off-duty piece just in case Stan tried to give him any grief, before making his way out to his truck and driving over to the children’s home. When he pulled up outside the home, he barely had time to pull his keys out of the engine with the speed he was getting out of the truck. He marched up to the front door and pounded on it, waiting for Stan to open the door.

“What do you want? You’ve caused enough trouble around here.” Stan snarls as he opens the door, recognising Tim instantly.

“I’m just here to pick up something that Kiara didn’t pick up when she was getting y/n’s stuff,” Tim says, holding his hands up slightly to show he wasn’t here to pick a fight.

“You’ve gone and put this home under investigation. I could lose my job and it’s all your fucking fault! I should teach you a lesson.” Stan swears angrily, stepping closer to Tim in an attempt to intimidate him.

“Try anything and I’ll have you locked away so fast you’ll never get to see this home close down,” Tim growls in response, his low tone and narrowed eyes enough to get Stan to step back, all attempt at intimidation now thrown out the window as he allows Tim to push past, heading upstairs to the room you had said was yours. He opened the door, heading straight for where you had said you’d hidden the sheep teddy. Thankfully, Tim had very little trouble finding the sheep.

“Let’s get you reunited with y/n,” Tim whispers to the small plush sheep before tucking it away in his hoodie pocket, making his way downstairs, making sure to shoot a warning glare Stan’s way to keep him away before heading to his truck and making the drive back home. When Tim arrived home, he found you curled up on the sofa with Kojo curled against your side.

“Did you find him?” You ask, perking up when you notice Tim’s arrival. Tim nodded with a smile, pulling the sheep out of his pocket and handing it over to you as you took it gratefully, holding it close to your chest as you let out a soft sigh of relief.

“Thank you so much, Tim.” You say gratefully, smiling over at him which he returns.

“You’re welcome y/n,” Tim replies, moving to sit alongside you and Kojo. You spend the rest of the day lounging on the sofa with Tim, getting to know each other more. After having a takeaway for dinner, you stand up and stretch, glancing over at Tim.

“Can I use the shower?” You ask, studying Tim’s reaction carefully.

“Of course, you can. You don’t need to ask.” Tim says softly, watching as you nod slightly, heading for your room to get ready for your shower before disappearing into the bathroom.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Tim caught sight of you padding across the hall, shivering violently as you tugged your hoodie over your pyjama shirt.

“Woah, are you okay? Are you coming down with something?” Tim asks, already jumping to the worst-case scenario at how violently you were shivering.

“No, I’m fine. I just didn’t realise how cold your shower could get.” You say with a shrug as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“I should’ve shown you how it works, I’m sorry.” Tim apologises, silently scolding himself for failing to show you how the shower worked.

“No, it’s fine. I know I’m not supposed to use the hot water anyway.” You say with a small smile, making Tim’s head tilt slightly in confusion.

“I’m sorry, what?” Tim asks, wanting to know why you had assumed such a thing.

“Stan always said that us kids weren’t supposed to use hot water.” You shrug, rubbing your hands up and down your arms to try and warm yourself up more.

“Okay, that rule doesn’t fly in here. You want a hot shower? You take a hot shower. You don’t have to worry about whether you’re allowed to use hot water because you will always be allowed to use it.” Tim explains, watching your reaction carefully, seeing how your head dipped, nodding shyly at his words.

“Thank you. And I’m sorry.” You apologise, making Tim feel like his heart is cracking in two.

“You have nothing to apologise for. It’s not your fault Stan is an asshole.” Tim says, resting a hand on one of your shoulders, smiling supportively at you as you lift your head to meet his gaze, shyly smiling in response as you nod lightly before a yawn spills past your lips.

“Sounds like you should get to bed. I’ll see you in the morning, y/n.” Tim says softly, releasing the light grip he had on your shoulder and watching as you head into your room with Kojo hot on your heels before making his rounds, ensuring all the doors were locked and the lights were off before retiring to bed himself.

Almost two hours after you had gone to bed you found yourself unable to sleep. You kept tossing and turning, finding the bed much too comfortable compared to what you were accustomed to. After Kojo let out a huff after what felt like your thousandth shuffle in bed you finally got up, grabbing your sheep teddy and a blanket before making your way to the living room with Kojo following behind once more.

Tim stirred at the sound of footsteps throughout the house and sat bolt upright, listening carefully to try and identify whether the footsteps belonged to you or an intruder. After a minute of listening, Tim identified the sound of Kojo’s claws tapping across the floor and felt himself relaxing, knowing it had to be you moving around with how Kojo wasn’t barking. After the house fell silent again, Tim decided to get up to check on you, worried about how he hadn’t heard you heading back to your room and he soon tracked you down, finding you lying down on the sofa, covering yourself with the blanket and using one of the cushions as a pillow with the small lamp on nearby.

“Are you okay, kid?” Tim’s voice made you jump at first, but you soon settled down when you realised it was only Tim, and Kojo settled down, his head resting on your stomach.

“Sorry the bed was ju-”

“It was too comfortable, wasn’t it?” Tim says softly, cutting you off as he crosses to sit down on the edge of the sofa.

“How did you know?” You ask, bewildered that Tim had figured it out so quickly.

“I served in the Army and did a few tours. Coming home after each one was the hardest adjustment period. And somehow the bed being too comfortable was the worst one. So trust me, I get it.” Tim says, letting you know that he understood and that he wouldn’t judge you.

“I’m just too used to the rock-solid mattresses at the home.” You say with a shrug, reaching out to pet Kojo after he noses at your hand for attention.

“If sleeping on the sofa makes you more comfortable for now. Then you can sleep on the sofa. Do what makes you feel most comfortable right now.” Tim assures you quietly, seeing how the gentle reassurance has made you feel more at ease.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, smiling at Tim as he nods.

“You’re welcome, y/n. I’m going to head back to bed but come and get me if you need anything. I’m sure Kojo will look after you.” Tim says, petting Kojo lightly before getting up, bidding you goodnight and exiting the living room to head back to his own room for the night. After Tim left, you turned the lamp off and laid back against the sofa, hand still stroking Kojo gently as you allowed your eyes to close. You had finally found a home, and it made you feel the safest you have ever felt in your whole life. And that was all thanks to Tim.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #the rookie #the rookie abc #the rookie fic #the rookie fanfic #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford fic #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x teen!reader #x teen!reader

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lazypanartist · 1 year

Text

Hobie Brown x Artistic/DIY Reader

I love him 💙

pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

Warnings: maybe spoilers for ATSV, IDK. Reader's in the punk scene and from Hobie's universe. Whole lotta projection. Canon-typical injuries

Features info dumping and personal Hobie HCs I guess. It's long ASF. And just self indulgent

Please RB, likes alone don't do anything for the algorithm!

-----

DIY/punk Hobie Brown

If you're in the scene, you know the basics

Patches?

Hand-Stitched

Usually with dental floss for durability/cost efficiency

And originally painted with white-out for the same reasons

Spikes or studs?

Cheap, bulk buy, screw em on yourself

Or just make em out of cans

Hobie's fit looks like it fits the bill

Old leather or denim jacket with the sleeves cut off

FN/SM painted on the back

Shirt's kinda tattered iirc

Spiked collars are easy

Same with the wristbands

When he meets you?

Whoo boy

It was one of his shows he was putting on

New songs, new faces in the crowd

He spots you from a distance at first

Little sketchbook in hand

You stay through his whole performance

When he's chatting up the crowd afterwards, though?

You're already gone

(Bitch writes a song about the pretty thing watching from afar, bc ofc he does)

He next sees you during one of President Osborne's speeches

Standing in the front row of a gathered crowd, shaking your head at the screen

He drops down after a few minutes, hanging upside down and blocking the less-than-pleasant view

He takes a few moments between questions from others

Little explanations

A promise to do what he can

Takes just a glimpse to look you over

You have a similar touch to the rest of the crowd

Worn out boots, tattered clothes, hand-sewn and painted patches

And your sketchbook still in hand

It's a little peculiar for the crowd

But he doesn't question it

What he does question is where you've gone after he turns to look at you

He only took a second for more reassurances

But when he goes to see you again

You're gone, just like the first time you caught his eye

He realizes then

That he's intrigued

He doesn't know what it is about you

Until he keeps seeing you pop up again

Riots

Concerts

Shows

Speeches

His immaterial object of interest

He finally starts actually talking to you the third or fourth time he sees you

At another of Osborne's liefests

An ambassador on a stage, surrounded by punks

Speaking of the President's virtues

Yeah

Spider-Punk shows up pretty quickly to run him off

And gets to chatting with you

When he first approaches, you ask for his opinion on a patch idea

And turn your sketchbook to show him the page

His spider symbol backpiece

But instead of FN/SM, it simply states

"Down With President Osborne"

He takes your pen and signs as a seal of approval before swinging away

Sure, it was a short interaction

But it led to even more meaningful ones

Like, say..

Him practically dropping out of the sky into a park

You were just minding your business, sketching the scenery

When he almost fell on top of you.

Covered in injuries

He laughs when he looks up and sees that it's you

Because of course it's you

Tries to resist when you start futzing over him

If you're the parent friend like me?

Patch him up

PLEASE

Even if you can't see him back together

Just

Bandaids and gauze pads

And maybe some candy

Bc suckers help with creativity

Or it's just my neurodivergence? Idk

Just. Offer him one in case he needs to bite on something while you're putting alcohol on his injuries

When you're done he looks them over

Promptly winces when he twists his arm 🙄

But then thanks you for your help and swings off

Again

These kinds of interactions become common

He'll find you hanging around the city

Either doodling or just vibing

And drops down to talk for a bit

Or get patched up

Loves when you offer to fix his costume

Bc it looks just as nice & homemade as the rest of your/his fits

Grins under his mask when he sees a new patch or two

And starts snickering if you deny their application

He really appreciates everything you do for him

And figures he should prove it

Sure, he's saved you

But he's saved a lot of people..

He wants this to be special

Unique

And he thinks he knows how to do that..

---

Click for next part

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cameronspecial · 9 months

Note

Hi!! since ur requests are open, I have this idea in mind. Basically:

Zach and reader, and they just started dating. Reader is like an art major or smth similar and she is always seen walking around with all her art projects, she is really clumsy and always has paint over her etc. Because she is oblivious too sometimes Zack tries to gain her attention but she is just really focused on her work and idk u can come up with the rest 😭😭 like a fluff type of thing. I hope I make sense.

The Artistic Girl

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: Suggestive Ending

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

His first memory of seeing her is when he was playing soccer with his friends in the quad. She had been walking back from class with a thin large bag thing. It was practically as big as her. Zach was so intrigued by the object in her hand that he stopped his game to ask her. “What’s with the bag?” he questioned, running up to her with an interested face. Y/N was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear him. He ran after her, gently tapping her upper arm. He smiled when she turned toward him, “Sorry. I just wanted to know what this big bag is. It’s almost as tall as you. It’s kinda a funny-looking backpack.” “It’s a portfolio bag silly,” she giggles, opening the bag for him to see her drawings. “I’m coming back from my figure drawing class.” He looked up to her to ask for approval to look through her work and she nodded. His hands flipped through the amazing art pieced with awe. She brought so much life into the two-dimensional medium. “These are amazing. I’m Zach by the way. Could I get your number? I would love to see more of your art,” he flirts. She beams at him, “I’m Y/N. I would be delighted to show you more of my art.” The rest of their story creates a beautiful painting.

———

Zach walks into their shared apartment to find Y/N at her pottery wheel. Her hands are cupped around the wet clay, creating a bulge in the once-straight cylinder. Her hair is in a messy bun and dried clay can be seen all over the bottom of her face and neck. Her clumsy personality means that her art supplies often find themselves all over her skin. It’s adorable. He remembers one time she accidentally sat on her paint pallet. The paint was all over her butt and it was hilarious. His eyes dart to the clock and he takes note of the time. Doesn’t she have class now? “Baby,” he calls to her. No response, instead, her tongue sticks out and her eyebrows furrow. He lets out a soft chuckle. When she gets into her artistic zone, it’s almost impossible to get her out of it. He’s only found one way so far to pull her attention away from her art. He removes his jacket, puts it on the coat rack, and then approaches her. She doesn’t look up at him. He is now standing beside her and he moves his face in front of hers. Her eyes are still glassed over in concentration, so he leans in for a kiss. Once her lips feel him, she snaps out of her thoughts.

Her dirty hands fly to his hair and she laces her fingers through his hair, forgetting the clay that dusts them. They stay like that for a few seconds before he pulls away and rests their forehead together. “You are late for class, Baby,” he whispers, turning their head toward the clock on the wall. She turns his head to her again, which gets some clay on his jaw. She leans in for another kiss, “Well since I’m already late, I don’t think there is any reason to go now. Plus, look at you. You are all dirty with clay. Someone has to help you get cleaned up.”

Zach smirks at her teasing words, loving where this conversation is going. “You are so right. And look at you. You have clay all over you too,” he plays along. She nods, standing up with him. “Well, let’s go get cleaned up,” she suggests, tugging him to the bathroom with her laughter filling the air.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

#the other zoey #zach maclaren #zach maclaren x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fic

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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Text

Elementary, Finale:

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ only—i choose not to list warnings for this one as not to spoil anything but you know how we get down over here on GMNO, happy endings only. read at your own discretion.) unedited/not proofread (for now)

wc: 7k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

June, 2004

“Don’t you dare,” Joel ordered as he surprised you from the doorway of your bedroom—your former bedroom.

You stood in front of a stack of cardboard boxes labeled “linens”, your hands resting on two sides as though you were caught mid-lift. He walked over to you with a smirk, shaking his head before lifting the box for you.

“You’re already carrying enough,” he said, eyes falling to your swollen belly, six-months into your first pregnancy.

“I think I’m more than capable of carrying a box of sheets,” you countered with a matching smirk, reaching for the box that sat below the one he just stole from you.

“Uh-uh,” Tommy came rushing in, sweeping the box from your grasp. “You got my nephew to worry about.”

“How do you know I’m having a boy?” you asked, following your fiancé and soon-to-be brother in law out of your old home to watch them load the moving truck.

“I can just feel it,” he replied, earning a smile from his older brother.

“I’m still hopin’ for another girl,” Joel admitted as he walked down the rickety metal ramp to meet you as you stood in the walkway, his hands sliding over your belly to rest on your waist. He placed a sweet kiss on your lips before letting you go. “You should go sit in the sunroom with Sarah and Jessie. Make sure they’re keepin’ room for Jesus and all that.”

“Oh, let them be. Not like we have to worry about teen pregnancy—“

“Alright, alright.” Joel covered his ears, wincing at the thought. “Still, I don’t want you workin’ too hard.”

“Joel, I promise, I’m not working hard at all. You and Tommy won’t give me the chance.”

“That’s how it should be,” he countered, walking inside the house with you following behind.

“Guys, guess what?” Sarah and her newly defined girlfriend, Jessie burst into the half-packed kitchen as you stood slowly making your way through your pantry, organizing a keep pile and a donate pile. Joel lifted a brow at her as he started on taking the metal barstools that stood at your kitchen island apart so that they could take up less room in the truck. “Britney Spears is coming to San Antonio next month.”

“Praise to the heavens,” Joel mumbled under his breath, earning a chuckle from you as you rolled you eyes at his lackluster reaction.

“That’s fun!” you replied, looking at the two fifteen year-olds. “How much are tickets?”

“Like thirty bucks,” Jessie sighed, frowning. “My mom’s gonna make me work at the restaurant to earn it.”

“Well, she’s got the right idea,” Joel stood, having disassembled the first stool. “Sarah, why don’t you come work with me and Tommy this week and I’ll buy your ticket.”

“Really?” she asked with a hopeful smile before remembering her fathers line of work. “Wait—at the site? I won’t know what to do.”

“I’m sure we can find somethin’ for you to do.”

“Yeah, I mean…Britney’s worth it,” Sarah sighed and shrugged before walking back into the sunroom with Jessie in tow.

“Hey, did I tell you we got a new hire?” Joel spoke to you as he started on the second stool.

“Oh, that’s good. I thought you were having trouble finding someone?”

“We were, but she got the seal of approval from Tommy. Guess she’s a real jack-of-all-trades type’a builder. S’just what we needed.” You smiled at him proudly, his construction company having taken off this last year and a half. They were almost too busy, too booked, leaving Joel and Tommy to stay behind and work the amount of four people instead of two just so that their projects remained on time. “Hopefully might start gettin’ two days off a week instead of one.”

“That would be nice,” you hummed, walking over to him to slide your hand over his sweaty but irresistible back as he crouched down to unscrew some bolts from the legs of the stool. “I’ve been like a lonely little housewife these last few months. Holed up waiting for my man to come back from the coal mines.”

“Oh, is that right?” He looked up at you with a smirk. It had been a few weeks since the two of you had last been together, long days at the site and, for you, at school forcing you apart. Aside from a few steamy but quick makeouts, you were left longing for your soon-to-be husband. “I been neglectin’ you, huh?”

You nodded, your smile spreading wider as you played along, your voice dramatic and theatrical as you tried on an old-timey southern belle persona. “All I got is this baby I’m brewing to remember you by.”

Joel stood up and dropped his tools on the kitchen counter before letting his hands find your waist, tugging you as close to him as your belly would allow. He leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheek that caused your entire body to light with chills as his kisses traveled down your neck.

“Why don’t I take you into the bedroom and give you that attention you’ve been needin’ so bad,” he rasped against your skin, dizzying your mind as you clung to him, breathless and wanting.

“House full of people,” Tommy’s voice sounded, reminding the two of you why you’d gone so long without each other in the first place. “Thought this would be done by now. Been, what, three years?”

“Don’t mind him, his longest relationship has been with the goddamn Longhorns,” Joel mumbled, keeping you hugged to his body. “Don’t know a thing about real love.”

“Yeah, yeah, save me the lecture, old man.” Tommy batted his brother’s teasing away and continued on packing and moving in the living room.

“Have I really been neglectin’ you, baby? All jokes aside,” Joel asked in a whisper pressed to your ear. You squeezed him closer and laid your head on his chest, Joel’s chin resting on top of it as he held you.

“No, I mean…I do miss you, and it has been a while since we last were together, but you’re not neglecting me. You still come home and hold me and talk to me and makeout with me,” you spoke softly, your voice a soothing hum against his chest. “We’re tired people, and especially now with the baby…I didn’t expect you to be clawing my clothes off when I look like a whale—“

“Excuse me?” he snapped, pulling your head from his chest so he could sternly look into your eyes. “None’a that. You’re beautiful…carryin’ our baby. Drives me fuckin’ wild seein’ you like this. M’sorry I haven’t been energized enough to show it, but I promise you, baby…you’re drivin’ me crazy walkin’ around like this.”

His hands slipped to squeeze the globes of your ass that had grown along with your belly and hips and, well, everything else.

“Tommy’s gonna see,” you scolded in a whisper as Joel’s fingers pinched the fabric of your dress until it started to lift, allowing his hands to rest against your skin and the cotton of your panties. Weaker and breathier, you exhaled, “Or the girls.”

“I promise no one’s gonna see,” he rasped, pressing his against your neck.

“Dad, come out here quick! There’s—oh my god! There’s a scorpion!” Sarah’s high-pitched squeal had Joel rushing out into the sunroom, his teasing long forgotten as he searched the room frantically. Sarah pointed in the corner and Joel spotted it, black and bigger than any scorpion he’d seen before.

“How the hell’d you get in here?” he muttered to the insect as he guided the girls inside the house before coming inside as well to grab a cup and the dust pan.

You stood in the frame of the sliding glass door, watching him as he carefully approached the scorpion as though he was Steve Irwin approaching a crocodile.

“They don’t jump, do they?” you asked, wincing as Joel started to make contact, guiding it towards the cup. The girls were behind you as though you were a shield, both of them letting out a squeal when the scorpion tried to strike Joel’s wrist, just barely missing. “Joel, just leave it! This can just be his house now, it’s not worth it.”

“Oh, hush,” Joel barked, keeping focused on the task before him. With either skill or luck, Joel managed to sweep the ground-hog sized scorpion into the glass cup and placed the dust pan over the mouth to keep him inside. “See, I got it.”

“Dad, don’t!” Sarah got gravely serious, sternly ordering her father to remain where he was with a point of her finger. Joel grinned and continued over, making both of the girls squeal and run off through the house.

“It’s so gross,” you cringed, leaning over to look at it through the glass with extreme caution and hesitancy.

“I don’t know,” Joel lifted it to his eye level to study it. “I think he’s kinda cool lookin’. Maybe we can keep ‘em as a pet.”

“Yeah, ri-IGHT—Joel!” you shrieked in terror as he pushed the glass towards you with a bark, making you jump backwards. Joel cackled as he watched you stand with your hand over your heart, your stern eyes watching him unamused. “That wasn’t funny.”

“I thought it was,” he chuckled. You watched him walk out to the backyard and set his new friend free, your heart still thumping in your chest. “Gotta get your heart rate up every now and then.”

“I don’t think you do.” Joel laughed and walked to hold you but was stopped by your hand pushing against his chest. “No, you don’t get to touch me. I almost pissed myself!”

Joel laughed again, proud of his prank. “God, it was good.”

“I’m glad you’re satisfied. I can promise you that’s the only satisfaction you’re gonna get for a while, pal.” Joel poured immediately, following you as you walked through the house out to the front yard where Tommy, Sarah, and Jessie laid out in the grass, staring up at the sky. “Everybody, we’re shunning Joel.”

“What?” he chuckled, looking at you with amusement and affection, so rarely seeing you worked up like this.

“Sure thing,” Tommy replied, mellow and relaxed as he looked at the clouds, a beer in his hand.

“Sounds good,” Jessie agreed before pointing at the sky. “That’s a dragon.”

“Yeah it is,” Sarah agreed. “And why are we shunning dad?”

“He threw the scorpion at me.” You knew you were exaggerating, your smirk growing as you watched Joel scoff at the claim, a look of amazement on the entire time.

“I did no such thing,” he defended. “I jumped it at her—“

“Oh, that’s right. He jumped it at me,” you repeated, still smirking at him. “A pregnant woman.”

“Oh, the pregnancy card again,” Joel playfully sighed, earning a gasp from you.

“Pregnancy card? How dare you?” you laughed. “I rest my case, Sarah.”

“Alright, yeah. Dad’s shunned.” Joel rolled his eyes at you before walking over, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he sang, widening your already smitten grin. “I promise not to throw any more scorpions at ya. You forgive me now?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, melting into him.

“I ain’t shunned?” he murmured, kissing your shoulder innocently.

“No, but the threat’s always there. As you just saw, I have the votes.” Joel chuckled against your skin.

“Trust me, I know my place.”

A Week Later

It was a Friday, you’d been stuck at the house all alone, Sarah off with her dad at the site to earn her Britney Spears ticket money. After doing a few hours of nesting, marrying your things to Joel’s around the house, you perked up at the sight of Joel’s name on the caller ID of your cell.

“Hi,” you sang with a smile.

“Hey baby,” he greeted. “Was wonderin’ if you could pick me and Sarah up in about a half hour?”

“Ooo, I get you home early tonight?” Your smile turned into a grin.

“Yeah, but Sean’s havin’ a barbecue at his place. Invited the whole crew so I guess we should show up.”

“Well, I’m in.”

“See you in a little?”

“Sounds good, baby.”

You smiled as you flipped your cell shut, but the task of dressing yourself quickly wiped your grin away.

You felt like a whale in everything these days, and despite Joel’s eagerness for you each and every day, you felt like a stranger to yourself. Even in the dresses you’d been living in, you felt every change in the way your body used to fill them out. You quickly shooed the insecurity from your mind and dressed yourself for comfort before heading out to go pick the Miller’s up.

Rolling into the construction site, you spotted Joel and Sarah standing in the dirt parking lot out in front of the project, a woman in front of them talking. You furrowed your brows as you got closer, seeing that whoever this woman was, she was pretty—the kind of pretty that makes you wonder why the hell she’s here in a construction lot instead of on billboards and magazine covers.

Your chest felt tight with insecurity as you pulled up to them, hoping with all your might that Joel didn’t try to introduce you to Construction-Barbie.

“Alright, Meg. See ya at the party.” Joel waved to her as he opened the backseat for Sarah, a friendly—too friendly—smile on his face when he hopped in the passenger seat. “Hey baby,” Joel leaned forward for a kiss but you were still too jealous to oblige, giving him your cheek instead. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you lied, nodding as you pulled out of the lot, the rest of the drive silent besides the pop on the radio and Sarah's soft hums.

After giving the two of them time to change into nicer clothes, all three of you piled into the car again with Joel in the driver's seat. Sarah talked about her day at work, how cool it was to work with Meg, and how surprising it was that the newcomer managed to make her dad laugh. You tried not to picture the scene.

Joel stopped at a grocery store, running in quickly to grab some beer and a few bags of chips to bring to the party while you and Sarah remained in the car.

“Meg sounds great,” you spoke, unable to keep your jealousy to yourself.

“She’s alright,” Sarah replied, seemingly noticing your insecurity. “A little chatty.”

“Your dad didn’t seem to mind,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself.

“She was a little flirty,” Sarah replied. “But dad didn’t seem to notice.”

You tried to shake the jealousy, knowing that it was silly and hormone-driven. Joel loved you. But that didn’t mean that he still couldn’t find someone else attractive at the same time.

At the party, you kept mostly to yourself. You were introverted on a good day, but with this heavy insecurity weighing you down, you found yourself retreating inward while everyone else mingled and carried on.

You were inside the house of Joel’s lead plumber, his wife buzzing around the house as she tried to corral her five children under five. You sat in the living room, watching and praying yours didn’t come out like that—loud and disobedient and restless.

“So, how far along are you?” she asked, breathless as she gave up and sat down on the loveseat across from you.

“Six months,” you replied with a small but friendly smile. “Got any advice for me?”

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Besides not havin’ ‘em in the first place? I don’t know—sleep whenever you can. They’ll suck the life outta you if you let ‘em.”

“A little bleak, honey,” Sean, her husband, walked in through the patio door, Joel following behind him.

“It’s the truth,” she argued, giving him a passive aggressive sigh. “It ain’t easy. ‘Specially if there’s only one parent home to do it.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, trying to ease the tension.

You stood, ready to venture beyond the tension anf chaos of the house, even if it meant having to enter the crowded backyard.

“You comin’ out?” Joel asked, holding his hand out for you to take. You accepted it and let him walk you outside. “That was brutal in there.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. Joel’s eyes scanned you as you stood beside him, staring ahead.

“You sure you’re alright? Been awfully quiet,” he noted.

“Yeah, just…feeling a little off today,” you lied.

Spotting a familiar head of strawberry blonde curls snorting with laughter as she stood with Tommy and Sarah by the grill. They both looked comfortable around her, making your stomach curl with a new type of jealousy. She wanted your entire family.

“Joel!” she called once she caught you staring. “Come over here and join us, darlin’!”

You resented the petname. Turning to Joel, you watched as his cheeks flushed, his eyes flickering to yours.

“C’mon,” he looked to you fully, attempting to slide his hand across your back but you stopped him, swatting his arm away. “Baby,” he began, but you were already too worked up to be consoled. “She calls everybody that.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you muttered.

“Baby, you ain’t really jealous, are you?” He chuckled. Wrong move. With a furrow in your brow, you reached your hands into his pockets and tugged out the keys to the car.

“I’m going home. Call me when you wanna be picked up from your date.”

Joel called after you only once, not wanting to make a scene by raising his voice or following you out.

Back at home, you stewed. What started as hormonal territorialism quickly snowballed into justified rage. She’d clearly met your eyes, seeing you standing there beside him, and ignored you. Then, she proceeded to flirt with him right in front of you. Joel did nothing about it except for defend her, which was what you were currently most angry about.

As you aggressively turned the pages of the book you were reading to distract yourself, you were surprised to see headlights through the window. Closing your book, you got up and peeled through the blinds to see Joel and Sarah stepping out of a taxi, your cheeks heating as guilt set in. You didn’t mean for Sarah to get involved in your fight with Joel.

Hurrying upstairs, you heard the front door open, the two of them speaking downstairs but it was too faint to make any sense. As you stood in the bathroom, hurting your clothes off so that you could jump in the shower, you felt more than heard Joel’s heavy footsteps up the staircase. Soon, after you stepped into the shower, Joel found his way into the bathroom, announcing himself in the doorway.

“We’re home.” His voice was gentle, but carried a sadness to it that made you feel less angry and more guilty.

“Okay,” you managed.

“Can I come in?” he asked, the question lingering in the air for a bit before you answered.

“Yeah,” you decided.

In the matter of a few seconds, Joel was stripped and stepping in behind you, his eyes locked on yours.

“I’m sorry,” he started, stepping closer to you and the stream of water. “I told her that pet-name stuff wasn’t cool with me, but I guess she ain’t as good at listenin’ as she is talkin’.”

“She’s pretty,” you replied, desperate to keep hold of this jealousy.

“Tommy thinks so,” Joel added.

“And you?” He shook his head and rested his hands on the swell of your stomach.

“I’m too busy thinkin’ about you,” he replied. “Thinkin’ ‘bout our family.”

“I know you love me, Joel. It’s not about that,” you sighed, moving to turn around but he stopped you before you could even flinch, forcing you to look at him when you continued. “I want you to think I’m…pretty like that. To want me.”

“You don’t think I want you?” He chuckled, shaking his head in utter disbelief. “For someone who ‘doesn’t want you’, I sure seem to paw at you every minute of every day.”

“I guess you’re right,” you chuckled, finally seeing the light beyond all the dark gray that this storm of jealousy and insecurity you were caught in. “Just seeing you with someone so pretty, who does what you do—“

“First off, she’s alright. She ain’t half as good as Tommy promised me was. M’pretty sure they’re fuckin’ and that’s why he recommended her.” You laughed. “Secondly, I need you to know that it doesn’t matter who I’m standin’ next to. I’m only ever thinkin’ about the next time I get to see you.”

“You’re good at this,” you smiled, reaching to hold his face in your hands. “Defusing the bomb that is a pregnant woman’s mind.”

“You know…I think that’s the first time I ever saw you jealous,” he hummed, leaning in to press a soft, teasing kiss on your lips.

“It happens a lot, I’m just usually good at hiding it,” you whispered back, stealing a few kisses for yourself. “Think you should prepare yourself for more of this crazy. Might be this way until the baby comes.”

“I like the crazy,” he smiled.

Five years later — December 25th, 2009

“Iris, watch out—“ Your five year old daughter ran full speed through the kitchen and living room, your two year old son, Miles, clumsily chasing her with his brand new stuffed dinosaur. It was hard to be mad at either of them, their giggles filling the room along with the crunch of the wrapping paper littering the carpet beneath their feet.

“Alright,” Joel scooped both of his children up and threw them over his shoulder, earning squeals and laughter as he walked them over to the couch you were sitting on. He plopped kids onto your lap but only Miles stayed. Joel sighed and sat down beside you as Iris got up again, a mischievous grin on her face as she stood before the three of you, all eyes on her. “Well,” Joel started, lifting his hands before dropping them back onto his lap. “We paid for a show. Are you gonna sing for us, Hannah Montana?”

“Daddy, where’s the phone?” Iris asked, making a fist and then tapping it to help illustrate what she wanted.

“The microphone? Somewhere in all this mess,” you replied, gesturing to the mountain of wrapping paper on the floor. “Gotta go fishing for it, baby.”

Iris quickly got to work, making an arguably bigger mess as she searched for her brand new toy, a microphone that was supposed to be its own speaker as well, but truthfully wasn’t much louder than Iris’s voice.

“Hey, hey!” Sarah walked in the front door with a smile, two large bags in her hands stuffed full of wrapped presents. When she took in the mess, she frowned. “Ah, did you guys already do gifts?”

“Iris already had them open before we even got downstairs,” Joel replied as he walked to the door to take the bags from his now twenty year-old’s hands before giving her a tight hug. “Martin come along?”

Martin was Sarah’s boyfriend of two years, the pair meeting in her biology class freshman year of college.

“Yeah, he’s getting the bags,” Sarah replied before coming over to hug you tight.

“How are you? How’s school?” You missed having Sarah at the house but were more than proud of her for getting into the pre-med program at Stanford.

“School is school, but it’s been way easier now that we aren’t living in the dorms anymore.”

“Sissy!” Iris rushed up to her sister and waved her new Hannah Montana microphone in her face. “Sing with me.”

“Oh…yay,” Sarah forced a smile but looked to you for help.

“How about we open the gifts sissy brought instead?” you proposed and your daughter instantly agreed.

“How was the drive?” Joel spoke to Martin as he helped him carry the bags upstairs to Sarah’s old bedroom.

“Not too bad. Sarah snored the entire way.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. Think she gets it from me.”

When Joel and Martin returned from the second floor, they immediately found their spots beside their partners, each of them making the same pained groan as they sat down.

“God,” you chuckled, looking to Sarah who was already looking at you. “They’re the same person.”

“Gross. Hate that.”

“You gonna pass out the gifts or what?” Joel asked, unamused by the comparison.

As Sarah and Martin sorted out the gifts, handing a few to Iris, a few to Miles, two to you and one to Joel. Joel shook his head at the box handed to him, but Sarah’s round eyes got her her way every single time.

“Told you no gifts for me,” Joel grumbled as he ripped the wrapping. “Don’t want you spendin’ your money—“

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she smiled, sitting down beside her boyfriend. “I think you’ll like this one. It’s a gift for everybody, but I think you’re going to have the most fun with it.”

You watched him rather than opening your own gifts, the small black box in his hand opening to reveal a key. Joel looked up with boyish eyes, shocked and excited and near tears all at the same time.

“What is it?” you asked, plucking the key from his hand.

“This ain’t—how—what?” Joel spoke through his shock.

“What’s it a key to?” you asked again, chuckling at the tears welling up in your husband’s eyes.

“My parents used to own this beat up old ranch in San Antonio, but had to sell it off when Sarah was a kid. I always wanted to buy it back and fix it up, but I just…never got around to it,” Joel finally replied to your questioning, turning to you with wet eyes and a big smile before looking at his daughter and her boyfriend. “How did—“

“My dad’s a realtor and knew the guy who was selling it, so Sarah and I put our money together to buy it back,” Martin detailed.

“In your name, so don’t get too excited. Mortgage isn’t gonna be that bad because we got it at twenty thousand and we put down a decent down payment,” Sarah added. “So, just a few hundred a month.”

“Baby girl,” Joel shook his head and looked down at the key. “How much do I owe y’all—“

“Dad, you took care of me my whole life. You deserve this. Besides, I just signed with a publisher for my book, so—“

“What?” you practically squealed, Miles covering his ears as he sat in your lap. “Congrats, baby girl!”

“Thank you, thank you,” she smiled and bowed, bringing your eyes to the shining rock on her ring finger. Joel seemingly noticed it too because his clapping suddenly ceased.

“What’s that?” he asked, his eyes shifting to Martin’s nervous stare.

“Shit—we were gonna announce it at dinner so Uncle Tommy could be here too, but…” She looked to her boyfriend. “We’re engaged.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your hands lifting to your mouth to hide the joy in your smile. “I’m so happy. Oh my god!”

“That’s bad, mommy,” Iris scolded. You nodded but pointed at Sarah’s ring.

“I known, but sissy’s getting married, baby!”

“Dad?” Sarah spoke to her father who sat frozen in shock. You turned to him as well, studying him carefully for any signs of anger or disappointment, but instead found only pride and joy. “Please don’t be mad. Martin wanted to ask first but I told him that’s too old school—“

“Baby, I’m not mad,” he assured softly, shaking his head as his eyes welled with fresh tears. “I’m just so happy.”

“Oh, dad,” Sarah cooed, her own eyes shedding tears as she walked over to hug her father close as he stood up. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, baby girl. So much.” Joel squeezed her once more before letting her go and turning to her fiancé. “And you too by proxy.”

After a long afternoon spent beside Joel at the computer studying the state of the ranch from the pictures Martin pulled up from the realtor, it was decided that Joel would take weekends off of work—not that he usually worked them anymore, the business having taken off so much that it forced him into a more managerial role—and drive down to the ranch to work on it, the kids and you invited of course but he understood if you didn’t want to, after all, “It ain’t gonna be pretty for a while, baby”. You agreed to let him check it out in person first before coming along because it seemed a little too dangerous for the kids with the property’s long, unmowed yard and old, untouched cabin.

Dinnertime came and so did Tommy and his girlfriend of one year—who also happened to be your good friend and a successful attorney—Maria, the two of them walking into a cleaner home than the one Sarah and Martin were greeted with. She had a six year old son, Kevin, who loved to play with your babies every time he came over.

“No fuckin’ way,” Tommy held up Sarah’s left hand to stare at the ring. “You were just a snot-nosed kid a second ago.”

“Yep,” she giggled.

“Well,” Tommy dropped her hand and looked to Martin, giving him a handshake. “You know who you’re gonna answer to if you hurt her.”

“Alright,” Joel interjected as he returned to the kitchen table that the adults were sat at while the kids played in the living room, The Grinch on in the background to busy them even more. He set a bottle of beer down in front of each of you, but Marin was quick to slide her bottle away from her. “No? And I bought the good shit just to impress y’all.”

“It’s just…” She looked to Tommy for help, the younger Miller smirking as he turned to the table.

“We’re havin’ a baby,” he announced and the table roared with applause and cheers. Joel’s smile was the widest, the two brothers locking eyes. Joel lifted his beer up to toast to life and the rest of you gladly clinked your bottles together in agreement. To life, indeed.

March, 2010

“So,” Joel started, a proud but nervous grin on his face as you climbed out of the passenger seat of the car to get a good look at the ranch. “What d’ya think?”

The long, unmowed grass was now trimmed neatly, making the land look so much bigger. Joel had fixed the gate, but you noticed that when he pulled in; he made sure to have a sign placed at the entrance reading “Miller Ranch” to properly fulfill his lifelong dream. The old, rickety cabin was now renovated and converted into a private den in case Sarah and Martin ever wanted to come stay for a while. Beside it stood a brand new ranch house, modest in size compared to the surrounding ranches, but it was big enough to hold three bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen, and a living room. But the part you loved most was the wrap-around porch he built by hand, painted a soft, pale yellow to contrast to the white of the home.

“I think,” you started, a smile growing on your face. “I wanna live here now.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled and approached you at the passenger side door, pressing you against it. “Why don’t we go inside? Maybe…test it out.”

“Mm, might as well take advantage of Tommy and Maria watching the kids,” you replied, your lips ghosting over his.

Joel tugged you along by the hand up the gravel driveway, allowing you the time to admire the little details like the swing he built onto the big oak tree between the den and the house, or the sneak peek you caught of rose bushes in the backyard. With each detail, you fell more and more in love with the property, and what was once a joke now turned into a serious longing—you wanted to move here. Bad.

“Ready?” Joel asked as he opened the screen door and rested his hand on the doorknob of the main, wooden door painted that same, soft yellow. You nodded at him and he opened the house, letting you walk in first, he flipped on the lights behind you as he entered. You gasped at the living room, how spacious but cozy it felt with a fireplace built in, not that the San Antonio weather ever really called for it.

Turning to the other side, you saw the dining room that connected into the kitchen via a square archway. You started that way, admiring the hand-made dining table before walking into the kitchen of your dreams. You let out a moan at the size of it, the brand new appliances that were a surprise but don’t worry, they’re on a lease.

Back in the hall, you carried on, admiring the framed pictures he’d hung of your joined family over the years, the smiling image of Sarah’s mother and Mary and Paul and everyone you’d lost bringing tears to your eyes.

“This is gonna be Miles’ room,” Joel opened the door to a room set up for a kid rather than a toddler aside from the bed with safety rails on it. You smiled at the thought of your son growing up here.

“And this?” you reached for the door across the hall and opened it to find a bathroom, modest but new.

“Kids bath,” he replied. Guiding you to the room beside Miles’, Joel opened it and displayed a soft pink painted bedroom that Iris was going to absolutely adore. “For baby girl.”

“Which means this has to be our room, right?” you asked, reaching for the door across from your daughter's room. “Little close, no?”

“Mm-mm,” he shook his head and entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He made a lot of noise, or at least that’s what you assumed from his heavy feet jumping on the hardwood floors, but you couldn’t hear much of anything. When he emerged, he was breathless and smiling. “Hear anything?”

“Felt you jumping around, but no,” you grinned. “You soundproofed it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Took me a while to get it right but…we can make all the noise we want now.”

“Well,” you began, sliding your hands up his chest as you batted your eyes at him. “Why don’t we give it a proper go?”

“Yeah,” he hummed, leaning down to kiss you teasingly, forcing you to seek more of his mouth in yours. “Come on,” he rasped, tugging you into the bedroom. “There’s one more surprise on the tour before I can get you naked. Go take a look in the bathroom.”

You did as you were told, leaving him by the bed to walk into the en-suite. You gasped at the clawfoot tub perched by a large bay window, looking out at the garden of flowers he’d planted.

“Joel…you—“ You shook your head, eyes now raining tears as you stood in the middle of the bathroom. Joel laughed and came over to hold you as you buried your face in his chest. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, baby,” he chuckled, amused by your reaction. “You like it, I take it?”

“Like it?” you lifted your head and shocked him with the amount of tears soaking your eyes. “I’m about to get down on my knees.”

“You can get down on your knees after I get my fill, how about that?” he husked against your cheek as he kissed your tears. “Go lay down on the bed, baby. Everything off.”

You didn’t waste any time in obeying, practically skipping out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Your shoes and jeans came off first, then your top, and finally your undergarments before you climbed onto the mattress to test it out. Joel walked in but remained patient at the foot of the bed as you laid in the center of the mattress, beckoning him closer with the curl of your finger. Joel grinned and peeled his t-shirt off before slowly, painfully slowly, undoing his belt and jeans.

“Roll over,” he commanded. “Wanna see somethin’.”

“I wonder, what ever could that be?” you joked, rolling onto your stomach and instinctively arching your ass into the air. Joel’s knees dipped the mattress as he crawled onto the bed behind you, his hands gripping the globes of your ass as he let out a groan.

“So pretty like this,” he hummed before surprising you with a broad lick up the seam of your cunt. “My country girl.”

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, just don’t stop.” Joel laughed at your plea but obliged, licking you again. He kept at it, his tongue greedily and filthily lapping up every inch of you it could find before tensing and burying into your cunt while his fingers rubbed circles over your clit.

“Mm,” he hummed as he pulled away for a moment to speak. “There’s a gift for you in the nightstand. Why don’t you have a look?”

You chuckled hesitantly and crawled over the mattress to reach into the nightstand on your side of the bed, finding a long black box inside. You pulled it out and turned over to sit, facing Joel as he sat on his ankles at the foot of the bed. “Open it.”

“Is this—“ You silenced yourself by opening the box, your eyes taking in the sight of one of those wands you’d been desperately dropping hints about wanting to try out. “Oh, baby. You’ve got competition now.”

“Oh, do I?” he smirked, crawling to lay over you, forcing your head to rest back against the pillows. “That’s alright. Gettin’ too old to do all that work anyways. Might as well take all the help I can get.”

“You know you’ll always have one thing no one else has,” you purred, reaching to stroke his cock as it rested on your belly. “They couldn’t replicate this if they tried.”

“Mm,” he smiled against you. “You’re just flatterin’ me now.”

“Uh-uh,” you shook your head. “It’s perfect. The way you fill me up, the way it feels inside. I’ll never get enough.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined against your jaw as he nibbled there. “Turn it on, wanna get you ready to take me. So damn hard for you, can’t even think.”

You flipped on the vibrator, gasping at the power behind it while Joel simply groaned.

“Go on,” he urged. “Press it to your clit, baby.”

“Fuck,” you hissed as you lowered it to your bundle of nerves, the whir of the vibrations making your thighs tense and jerk, but Joel’s hips stopped them from closing.

“Does it feel good?” he asked against your pulse as he kissed the skin there.

“Yes,” you panted. “But I want you.”

“Not ‘til you cum,” he replied, trailing his fingers down your belly, past the vibrator, and into your soaked entrance. You let out an animalistic moan, something primal and so unlike yourself. “God, baby,” he moaned against you as he curled his fingers up towards that dizzying spot inside. “You don’t make those noises for me. Maybe I do got competition.”

“Joel,” you whined, unsure of what to say or how to describe how good it felt to have him inside you along with this gift of an invention. “Please. Please.”

“Cum on my fingers,” he ordered, low and dark and right into your ear. “Then I’ll give you what you want.”

As if your body had simply been awaiting the order, you came immediately, squeezing him as you writhed beneath his weight, the vibrator turned off and tossed across the bed. Joel slid into you while you were still clenching around nothing, your breath getting knocked out of your lungs at the force of his thrusts inside. You felt like you transcended into some sinful sort of heaven, one where only you and Joel resided.

“God, baby,” he whined, his arms slid beneath the arch of your back to hug you tight as he pounded into you. “So fuckin’ wet. God, I need to cum. Been too long.”

“Those fuckin’ kids,” you managed a joke, earning a laugh before he found his rhythm again.

“Baby, fuck,” he warned, his voice as wrecked as yours as you screamed his name into the empty home, your nails scratching down his back as you begged him to let you cum again, as if he ever denied you. “Go on,” he urged, sitting up on his knees to watch his cock disappear into you only to come out covered in your shine. “Fuck, come on. Cum for me. Right fuckin’ now, baby.”

“Oh!” you screamed, again unlike yourself, and clawed at his arms for purchase as your orgasm hit so hard it might have been painful if it hadn’t felt so fucking good. “Joel, please, please, please. Cum inside me.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his face scrunched up as he watched himself let go into your pussy, his eyes glued to where you were connected while pulsed inside of you with a deep growl. When he pulled out, he quickly lowered himself to the mattress and nestled between your thighs, fucking his spend back into you with his finger while his tongue swiped round and round over your clit until you were begging him to stop. “Too much?”

“For now,” you grinned. “How much longer do we have until we have to get back on the road?”

“I’d say a couple hours,” he replied, sated but a hint of mischief in his voice. “We could always try out that new bath.”

“God, I love you.” You pulled him up and kissed deeply. “So glad you showed up to that parent teacher conference.”

“Thank you for givin’ Sarah and I a family again,” he whispered. “I love you so much, baby. I—gonna get me all choked up. I love you.”

“I love you.”

•

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller reader insert #elementary

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aurae-rori · 3 months

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children of the city ; a dr. ratio analysis

Dedicated to all the people in my inbox going, "WHAT IS A CHILDREN OF THE CITY AND WHY IS IT DR. RATIOCORE?!" I will now be pointing all of you to this post, because it's easier to access and find.

If you are finding this out in the wild, greetings. I am Aurae, one of the many Dr. Ratio Analyzers (shoutout to my other homies who are doing the work of the aeons and clearing the misinfo and slander to my boy's name). I am here to tell you why the song "Children of the City" by Mili is Dr. Ratiocore.

It's time to deconstruct my boy like the puppets that you see on tv, who find comfort in the strings. (if you know, you know.)

"Sleep for a total of 800 hours per day And then drink a liter of milk Warm-up before you go play Only eat, or write Or pull the trigger with your right hand Only thing that's left Is to work on following commands"

I'm totally not projecting my gifted child trauma here, nuh uh... Anyway, my personal HC for Ratio is that his child might have felt monotonous being in classes that he was already too "intelligent" for. Learning things at a quicker pace than other children, absorbing knowledge up like a sponge - sure, the praise is nice, but after awhile, especially when you get to higher levels, intelligence isn't enough to carry you. You have to put diligence, effort, blood sweat and tears into what you're studying for, especially if you want to make a change, like how Dr. Ratio wanted to. It. must have gotten lonely, getting up only to do more researcher, eating only to go back to work. Following a schedule is wonderful, and he would have enjoyed the routine, but after being isolated from other people along with that, it might have made him feel subhuman or less than human for only being there for the studying of more knowledge. Eat, study, work, repeat. This is more of a personal HC rather than something canon, though. :)

"By the time you realize You'll be restrained to a desk And with your dreams on the floor, you comply Eyes chained to the test In 30 minutes, find a groom or bride Bonus if brunette In 90 hours, spill their insides Paint your room picturesque"

I feel like the prospect of romance is pushed onto children at a very young age - and that can be applied to Dr. Ratio. Who knows what romantic beliefs that he grew with? However, I believe this is less of him observing himself, but more of him seeing what the education system does to others, and how society molds others into the person that they "should" be, rather than what they want to be. Also, it could be a reference to academic trauma and placing all your self worth in your grades.

"Now it's time for another vendetta Going through the shelves Picking out my pre-written persona (ha-ah-ah) Children of the city sees only the neon stars Reflected upon the murky gutter sky Don't ask me why I desperately wish to be included in the city's night"

This is how I see Dr. Ratio holding a grudge against the Aeons and other figures of authority. We are all expected to be "good" and "well-behaved", and yet, we all look to the "city's night" - the approval of those who are in a higher position of us. We want to gain the approval and the praise of our parents, of our teachers - it's natural, after. We want to be included in the "city's night" - in Dr. Ratio's case, the gaze of Nous. He wants to be acknowledged by Nous and let into the Genius Society because his beliefs that were instilled into him as a child dictate that since he is hailed as a genius, he should be seen as one by the Aeons, right? However, I'd like to point out the usage of the words "neon stars" - stars are not neon. This implies that the stars are fake - I can also see this as a pointer to the idea of there system itself being fake, or societal "norms" being fake, as we are all unique.

"In four hundred thousand meters, turn right

Pick up a knife and stab a familiar warm body Learned to fight before I knew love or bitterness of coffee Snippy scissors cut down the strings I set myself free Only to figure out everything I chose was by proxy"

Dr. Ratio following orders until he doesn't. Fitting in until he gives up on it. Setting himself free from the chains of what is expected from him of other people, but not by the Aeons - no, that's something that still stays with him. However, I like to interpret the idea of a "familiar warm body" being his own childhood - killing the child that you used to be in favour of facing the future. Coffee is also something commonly regarded as students or workers using it to keep awake during long periods of work and study - it talks about how he has known to fight for himself, or fight for what he wants, before he was told to suck it up and just work for the sake of others, for the sake of the authority. However, this might feel scripted to him as well, with the mention of a "proxy" - it was a decision someone else made for him, maybe? Who knows? Maybe his selflessness was originally chosen by someone else, and drilled into him?

"As we suckled upon the nine millimeter pacifier Swallowing the fact that other than to expand We had no purpose As my ever-burning will to stay afloat backfires I now know I must be comfortable being Who I considered worthless"

This is definitely expanding on the idea of being raised to just be used by the authorities. Also, this can also be a representation of the way that he calls himself "mundane" - he was called a genius and raised as one, and now that Nous has not seen him, he must be "mundane" and he must come to terms that he is exactly what he wasn't called growing up. None of their words of praise have any meaning any more, because in the all seeing gaze of an Aeon, he is nothing.

"Follow the city's ribbon To a heart nobody seems to listen It takes my heart being broken and broken again (broken and broken again) To know that I am the reason why (the reason why) The sufferings never end"

As Dr. Ratio uncovers the truth of his childhood and the truth of why he was raised this way, the empathy that he has suppressed comes back up. And this is it - because he feels for others, because he is so incredibly human, that is the reason why his suffering does not end. He cannot detach himself like other people, like other geniuses, and treat life with little to no care. He cannot, because he loves, and that is his fatal flaw. He listens to his heart, as well as his mind, and that does not make him a genius in the eyes of an Aeon.

"Do not go home until you finish reading the value of E. 2.71 8281 8284 5904 5235 3602 8747 1352 6624 9775 7247 0936 9995 9574 9669 6762"

"E" is a mathematical constant, and therefore is logical. It's called the base of a natural logarithm, and while my knowledge in that area is limited, the fact that it is called a "constant" means that it cannot change, just like all numbers cannot. It might be a representation of the idea of Dr. Ratio trying again to fit in with others, only to fail once more, even though he knows all the rules. He was simply born in a different way, doomed from the start. It wasn't his fault.

He was just human.

You can also see this as Dr. Ratio observing the world as he grows up in an "apathetic" and "detached" way - as he pushes down his own emotions in favour of staring at his own success to help others, knowing that his empathy will not get him anywhere in terms of a cruel world. However, he cannot help it.

Ultimately, "Children of the City" is about how we are raised in a society that forces the idea of work on us ever since we are young. We do not get to cherish our childhoods nor our youth, and are immediately turned to the prospect of how we can provide value to society. We are raised in a never ending cycle like machines, to be puppets to corporations, to be slaves by the desire of the majority, to never have free will of our own.

#hsr #dr ratio #honkai star rail #veritas ratio #drratio #aurae rambles #dr ratio analysis #character analysis #song analysis #media analysis #analysis #character study #children of the city #mili #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio hsr #lyric analysis

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moochalove · 5 months

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The Spiders Catch

(Arlechinno x Fem!Reader)

♡ Platonic Possessiveness Columbina!

♡Mother figure Signora!

♡Takes place when Arle is first introduced as a harbinger- into her adult life!

Arlechinno was well aware that taking a lover was a dangerous move. For a while, she tried to convince herself that she didn't need anyone else after Clervie. But when she first laid her dull eyes on you- she swore she got that same feeling in her chest, the feeling she got when she basked in Clervie's presence. While drinking her afternoon tea, she pondered, "How do I get close to that pretty girl?" You were part of the Fatui- One of Columbina's little playthings. Columbina never seemed to bring you around the other Harbingers. But today she happened to call you into a meeting for something.

The reason she doesn’t bring you around the others? Well, she can definitely think of a few reasons…

A couple of weeks had passed and she still thinks about you daily. You seemed so fragile and innocent, yet at the same time, your eyes harbor a certain kind of sadness. She finds this intriguing and she’s curious to know more.

By the time she finished her tea, it was time for another meeting she had been dreading. Maybe it was because that meant she had to be around those other weird people who were her coworkers. When she opened the door, she quickly looked around to see which ones were present. Yep, everyone she didn't want to see. When she turned to greet Columbina she noticed she was busy playing with your hair. The girl had you wrapped around her finger, it's almost like she forgot- or didn't care that you were in public. Arlechinno coughed slightly to get her attention. When the Damselette finally noticed her, she greeted her with a warm and innocent smile. No words were exchanged but the 3rd Harbinger seemed proud to show you off to Arlechinno. You looked so scared of her. You had heard how she killed Crucabena, but you never imagined she would be so young! Well, if you think about it, you both seem to be around the same age. But still! To think someone so young would have the power to be a Harbinger. She extended her naturally discolored hand to shake yours. Arlechinno disliked how you turned towards your Harbinger for approval. Once you got approval from her, you responded with a proper handshake. This would be the first of many formal handshakes. Arlechinno wasn't sure if her cold heart had warmed up to the sight of you, or if it was just that look in your eyes that made her feel nostalgic. She needed a bit of time before she decided if she wanted to pursue you. Even if she did want to, she needed to find a way to get near you. The Damselette always seemed to keep you by her side. From the very little intel she was able to gather on her own was that the Harbinger had saved you from death, and ever since then you have devoted yourself to her. When Arlechinno asked her fellow Harbinger- The Fair Lady, she reported that she was able to get close to you by giving you small gifts whenever she and the Dameselette worked on projects together. She also shared that you weren't very comfortable around any of the male Harbingers- or any males to be specific. This could potentially pose some sort of problem as she knows she isn't the most feminine Fatui member around. "Give it time, Knave. The girl will eventually come around to you. She loves to talk about the various happy moments she’s experienced. Though, if I were you, I would lighten up your expression when around her. The poor thing looks terrified whenever you turn your sharp gaze towards her." "Ah- and before I leave, I'll let the little doll know that a certain Knave is looking for her presence. Ah, and the others say I have no compassion for my fellow colleagues.” Before Arlechinno could protest the idea, La Signora had already walked out. She wasn't sure if this made things easier for her, or if it would complicate the web she had been slowly working. A couple of days had gone by and you seemed to be appearing in her life more often. No, that was an understatement, it's like you've been ordered to follow her around. She casually played it off by pretending she didn't notice you fumbling about behind her. But eventually, she had to acknowledge your obvious presence. "Excuse me, Miss Y/n? I noticed you seemed to be following me around for a while now. Are you lost perhaps?" Arlechinno waited patiently for your response or gesture. "I-I was told you wanted to see me... I just wasn't sure how to get your attention. A-apologies, my lord Harbinger..."

Her dull eyes widened in shock. All this time, she never knew you were able to speak. She had heard you giggle softly while interacting with her fellow Fatuus, but she had never heard you say anything to her.

"A-ahem," an awkward smile crept up on her face, "I'm not sure who told you that.." Her sharp eyes studied how your eyebrows arched in disappointment.

"But, I do not mind your company." She kindly gestured for you to walk and talk with her. Of course, you followed like a lost lamb.

She tried to hold a nice casual conversation with you. On the inside, she was slightly worried about scaring you. Or even saying anything that displeased you. For a while, it felt like she had to hold her tongue from saying anything that seemed slightly suspicious.

The conversation took a pleasant turn when you began to share your own memorable experiences regarding the topic you were discussing. Arlechinno was surprised by the way you just seemed to go on, and on. Almost as if you've forgotten you were speaking with The Knave. By the time you arrived at your destination, you were still rambling about various topics.

Once you realized you had reached the location you apologized to her a handful of times. You couldn't believe you had talked her ear off Especially since she was so kind to acknowledge you-

"I enjoyed our conversation. I do hope we can meet again like this.”

“Whether that be formal or informal. If you feel comfortable, of course."

"Thank you, lord Harbinger- I promise not to talk so much next time. P-please forgive me-"

"No need to be so formal, Y/n. I quite enjoyed your "ramblings", in fact I think it was very cute. I can start to see why that girl keeps you around so often."

It felt like you were going to cry from happiness. Sure it wasn’t a direct compliment- but I sure did sound like one to you! Did she actually wish to befriend you? Maybe you’re reading this wrong-?

“Well then, I think you’re the little dove has finally come looking for you. Do take care Y/n. Though if you wish to take me up on my little “informal” offer, feel free to find me.”

Before you could even muster up a reply your harbinger dragged you away.

You knew how she could get jealous easily. Though deep down you know she just wants to protect you! On your way “home” she stopped to show you a display of nature.

A spider, laid prettily on its meticulously crafted web. The pattern of the web mesmerized you, almost as if it had put you under spell- asking you to come closer and relax. Before you realized, the spider had entangled a lone butterfly within its webs. Slowly cradling it, all while slowly killing it. You frowned at this depressing display.

Columbina though, she seemed amused by this.

Once the butterfly’s twitching seemed to slow, she squashed the spider with her bare hands.

Silently, she turned towards you. You started to understand her actions, and what she was trying to tell you. A slight frown controlled your once relaxed lips. Columbina simply reached to pat your head before tugging you away from the sorrowful display she intervened in.

After you finished dinner, you sat at your window, looking out at the Snezhnayan aurora. You pondered if this was the life suited for you. Being a Harbingers “little doll”. Maybe Columbina really was just trying to protect you? That doesn’t seem too far off from her nature. But why would she need to do that? Was Arlechinno playing some sort of angle? You didn’t want to think about it right now. Instead you silently closed the window and headed to bed.

A couple of months had passed and you decided to stay by Columbina’s side. On the evening you had planned on visiting the Knave, she stopped you and with her siren-like voice, told you that she wanted to use you, just like everyone else. Of course, if it’s from her lips it must be the truth.

After all she’d done for you, there was no way you could just “run off” to someone else who happened to give you a little bit of attention. No, it just wasn’t right.

You stopped going outside, only leaving when it was necessary, or by your Harbinger’s side. Or when you would you go out shopping with La Signora. You enjoyed your time with her. She felt like a “Mother” figure. She gave you some form of twisted normalcy. Sometimes her talks with you are harsh, but you suppose it’s tough love.

Maybe it was your teenage blues that you never got to experience finally catching up with you, but you always seemed down. Your “Mother” figure, La Signora, seemed to notice this immediately. At first she tried spoiling you rotten, but that didn’t seem to work. She then tried getting you to come outside more, even going to extreme lengths to get Columbina to agree to letting you go on low-profile missions with her. But the Damselette never seemed to budge.

La Signora was starting to get fed up with her, but there was nothing she could do as she was her superior. She felt bad that all she could do was watch the beautiful flower, that is you, slowly wilt away in a cage.

At this point you were getting tired of her not listening to you. You were now an adult and yet she still treated you like the poor child she had found all those years ago.

Finally you snapped. While your “master” was away, you packed very basic necessities and ran. You ran to the borders of the frozen nation. Luckily, you were able to lay low with traveling merchants that were able to get you out of Snezhnaya.

Eventually you arrived in Fontaine. You were able to sell off your belongings she had gifted you, and rented a room in the court of Fontaine. For a while you wondered if what you were doing was okay. How long would it take for her to find you? Would she be upset? What would your punishments be? Oh god… You didn’t want to think about it. What mattered now was getting a new identity and getting a stable income before leaving for the next nation. From the stories Signora had told you, Mondstadt seemed the most stress-free.

A couple of weeks had gone by and everything seemed quiet. You had a sorta steady income by working part-time at a cafe. You just needed to work a couple more months before you could say goodbye to this identity. So far, it seemed like you managed to cover your trails decently. No one came looking for you, nor did you notice anything suspicious.

On your way home a small child handed you a sweet-smelling flower. Normally you wouldn't accept gifts, but it seemed normal by just looking at it. When you inhaled the sweet aroma you couldn't help but smile. The child seemed pleased by this and ran off. Nothing out of the ordinary for the children of Fontaine.

Unlocking the various locks to your room door, you couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy. As if someone had been watching you. No- someone had definitely been watching you.

You needed to grab the basics and get out of there. Fast.

Scrounging around the bottom of your drawer for rare and expensive jewels your Harbinger had given you, you grab the bag stuffed of random pieces of clothing and run for the front desk of the apartment complex. You slam a small bag of priceless jewels on the landlord's desk before you bolt out of the building. You have no idea where to go. So you just run aimlessly through the streets. You're sure if you seek out the guards they'll turn you over to the Fatui.

It feels like your legs are about to give out.

And they do, though you've managed to collapse in an alleyway. Desperately you use your upper strength to drag your lower half under some trash.

But it's no use.

A familiar figure appears before you, The Knave.

“Well, well. Looks like I finally caught you in my web.”

You're too scared to say anything.

“So you've got nothing to say to me, hm?” Her slender figure leans down to your level. “And here I thought after all these years you’d be happy to see me.”

Once again, you’re a stuttering mess before her, “P-please, please, I’ll do anything- anything! I don’t want to go back, please!”

If your past self heard you say that she would’ve definitely slapped you across the face.

Her sharp index finger trails up your neck to your watery eye, she looks at you amused. “Is that so? And here I thought you enjoyed being a little toy for that girl.”

With silent sobs you shook your head.

“Then I have a proposal,”

You would be lying if you weren’t terrified of what she had to offer.

“Come with me. Come back with me to the House of the Hearth. The children have longed for a “Mother”, and if you’re anything like I remember, you’re sure to fit the shoe.” Her eyes weren’t that of empty ones, they were filled with genuine concern and a certain yearning.

Swallowing your fears you hoarse out a simple question: “Will you keep me safe?”

“Safe? Hm, I suppose so. I could “kill” the old you, then give you a new identity. A fresh one you’ve been longing for. Though that’s still a work in progress on my end. As of now though, I can keep you safe, though you will still be plagued by your past.”

“I’ll do it. Just don’t take me back- She’ll kill me if she sees me again- I can’t go back- I-“

She gestures for you to be quiet.

Before you know it, you’ve fainted.

♡ May do a part 2…?

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #fem!reader #arlechinno genshin #arlechinno x fem!reader #slight yandere #platonic possessiveness

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puuuders · 1 month

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In Pursuit of Something Better ~ part 1

Ghost fanfiction

Authors note: uhhh idk what I'm doing ngl. But I have had a fan fiction idea stuck in my dumb noodle. So if you have any advice to making this look not crappy let me know. Also, this series will probably take a bit of time for updates, because I want to make art for each part and I l have a bit of projects I'm already working on. Anyways, enjoy.

P.S., The title is a take on the translated meaning of "meliora". Y'all probably know that tho

The ghouls are determined the absolute lowest of the low of the clergy, this idea being drilled into their heads by Secondo. However, Secondo retires today.

1.7k words

Content warning: this part has a lot to do with racism-

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However, this treatment and acclaimed lack of importance was all in accordance to Sister Imperator, and especially Nihil's son, Secondo, who was the current Papa and owner of the ghouls. Emphasis on “owner”. He treated them like dogs. Drilled into their heads how replaceable they are. Since he currently owned them, he could treat them however he'd like. And if it was in an abusive and neglectful manner, then he could do so. Sister Imperator approved of this treatment, often praising him for such “discipline” and “taming” of the “feral beasts”. The ghouls were silent, did their chores, wore their uniforms, and played extraordinarily like - no, because - their life depended on it on stage. Despite their hellish power, it was useless against the clergy. They held a firm spiritual grip on their throats, weakening their ability against whoever had summoned them from The Pit.

In every aspect apart from supernatural and musical ability, the ghouls were significantly inferior to the human members of the clergy. They were the lowest ranking group. During ceremonies and masses, they needed to sit in the very back, a row apart from the human attendees. In some cases in which there was not enough seating, they either stood, or some opted to sit on each other's laps. They ate last if they were not forced to hunt their own food. They shared one room, the closer friends or lovers lying on top of each other to save space. Social anxiety was not an option for the ghouls. It was a necessity to be social and physical with one other to live somewhat comfortably. Otherwise, if you were a ghoul, you would be sleeping on hardwood and filter feeding.

Today was another ceremony in which the ghouls were cramped in the corner of the nave, sharing a single but long enough pew for every ghoul to sit comfortably on except for Alpha. A taller fire ghoul, he stood to the side, having given his seat to the shorter earth ghoul, Pebble. How kind.

This ceremony was definitely one that would spark such selflessness and kindness into the ghouls tormented souls. Perhaps it would change such an adjective to describe them. It was the passing of the torch of papacy to the cardinal, the youngest of the Emeritus brothers, whom of which they were not allowed to interact with until this event. It was the same for Secondo when he was a cardinal. It was a gamble not knowing what he was like apart from the rumors of him being a bit on the feminine and immodest side. But they had no choice but to bid for their well-being. It was either that or The Pit.

A silent wave of people rising to their feet pushed through the room as Sister Imperator, Nihil and Secondo entered the front of the large hall, coming to a stop in front of the long altar. The altar was topped with a new mitre, some candles, bread, and deep red wine. The ghouls scowled as Secondo took his place beside the mitre, in front of the microphone. How they hated hearing his voice. It brought nothing but negativity.

“Good morning, brothers and sisters…” Secondo spoke with a low grumble. His mismatched, dull eyes flicked to the back of the room.

His eyes returned to the large group of humans, not being able to help himself to not find a way to demean the ghouls.

“...and ghouls.”

“Today is a day of empowerment. Of glory to our congregation, message, and cause. And me.”

The humans chuckled humorlessly, as if prompted to do so at his unfunny quip.

“Although I do not think anyone could perform this position as effectively as I could, I must retire. And, as my brother before me, the reign will be passed down to a younger face, one who may forward the word *almost* as good as I. My dearest brother.”

Secondo extended his robed arm towards the door. All heads turned in that direction, and in stepped a shorter, black haired cardinal Terzo. He looked so much younger and different than his older brothers. He was wearing a black, purple and gold robe, taking on a much flashier and poppy look than Secondo and Primo had. Secondo visibly cringed at this, not making much of an attempt to hide his disapproval. Sister Imperator at least faked a smile, and Nihil gazed as if he were not there mentally.

Terzo seemed thrilled. He wore a cocky and quivering grin on his face, his black, leather gloved hands decorated with golden nails clasped together. He stepped slowly and deliberately before coming to a stop next to his brother, bowing his head slightly. Secondo audibly sighed before speaking again.

“It is with… great honor, my brother, to bestow upon you…”

He turned to gently lift the mitre, hovering it over Terzo's head.

“... The title…”

Terzo closed his eyes as Secondo placed the mitre on his head.

At the last word, the congregation broke into applause, something the new Papa relished in as he extended his arms and bowed. Some of the ghouls clapped, while some remained cross-armed, which encouraged the more enthusiastic ghouls to quiet down and mimic them.

“Of Papa Emeritus III.”

“I trust that you will follow in my footsteps, brother,” Secondo spoke again, shooting Terzo a glare, “and bring even more power to this ministry than I did.”

“I like my own footsteps, brother.” Terzo spoke with a grin.

Terzo simply nodded. Terzo was certainly a more animated character, showing lots of deliberate body language. He strided to the microphone, dismissing Secondo with a double flick of his hand. The ghouls smirked at this. He drew a breath before his thick Italian accent filled the room.

“But thank you. And thank you, people.”

He extended his arms again, gesturing to the crowd.

“For being here on such an important day. Not just for me, but for all. I am not one for speeches, so let's cut the bullshit, yeah?”

Terzo turned and picked up the plate of bread, pushing his robe out of the way. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, something about the robe. He then slowly snaked around the room, gently placing the bread in each person's mouth using his thumb and index finger, almost in a sultry manner, no matter what gender the person appeared to be.

Then, Terzo made it to the back of the room. He avoided any sort of acknowledgement of the ghouls, his eyebrows knitted upwards underneath his minimalistic skull paint as he quickly moved past them. He repeated this process for the blood, spoke a bit more, and then dismissing the congregation to go about their usual duties.

“Excuse me! Excuse… me.” Terzo shouted as he jogged down the row, his confidence faltering as he got closer to them. He completely misunderstood their size, his confidence chipping away with each step that slowed into a timid creep. They were massive up close. Even Pebble, the shortest one, was at least 5 inches taller. He couldn't understand where the idea of weakness and inferiority came from. Maybe where they were from.

The room quickly shuffled out of the grand double doors, murmuring voices echoing as the room grew emptier. Terzo brushed off conversation with Sister Imperator and Nihil, shuffling through papers and books underneath the altar to appear too busy to talk. When they disappeared behind the halls, his focus shifted to the ghouls at the other end of the nave.

Terzo's eyes were understandably drawn to the two biggest ones, who seemed to protectively take a step forward in front of the others. Although their expressions were hidden behind their black masks and hoods, Terzo could feel the unwelcome tension between them. Terzo had never been exposed to a ghoul before.

“Do you… speak English?”

No response.

“Italiano?”

A tilt of the second biggest's head.

“Er… Svenska?”

The fire ghoul looked up at the biggest ghoul, who's uniform had a bold quintessence symbol at the right part of his chest. He returned the look. Their eyes showed an understanding of one another, sometimes widening and narrowing as if they were speaking telepathically. The quintessence ghoul looked back down at Terzo and puffed his chest out.

“Any.”

Terzo was a bit taken aback by the ghoul’s voice. It sounded like a human. A Swedish accent, medium pitched. Terzo nodded, breathing out.

“Ah, good, good… I prefer English myself. Do you have a preference?” Terzo asked.

“No.” The ghoul responded simply.

“Ah… Alright. What is your name, ghoul?”

“I do not have one.”

“That's no good. None of you?”

“No.”

Terzo tilted his head, his lips parting as he studied the ghouls with a confused expression. The ghouls returned the glance.

“Why not?” Terzo finally asked, unsure of what else to say.

“There is no use.” The quintessence ghoul responded, showing no hint of emotion.

“Elaborate, ghoul. I cannot understand you if you do not explain.” Terzo said, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“Someone taught you that well, eh?” Terzo chuckled. The quintessence ghoul tilted his head up, a glare of annoyance entering his eyes. Terzo's fake smile fell off his face.

“You do not need to understand. We play for you, we serve you. That is all that matters.”

“Alright. Well… You seem to be…” Terzo stated before tilting his body to look at the other ghouls, who had huddled behind the quintessence ghoul at some point, “... The big guy of the group. Are you busy?”

“Come with me, quintessence ghoul. Your friends are dismissed.” Terzo said, doing his best to sound unthreatening. The fire ghoul immediately ushered the rest back, and they scurried out of the door. The fire ghoul looked back at the quintessence once before disappearing around the corner. Terzo drew a shakily breath, gesturing with his head for the remaining ghoul to walk with him.

“No.”

#the band ghost #ghost #ghost bc #terzo #art #papa emeritus iii #drawing #omega ghoul #alpha ghoul #quintessence ghoul #fire ghoul #earth ghoul #papa emeritus II #secondo #ghost fanfiction #ghost band

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sunsetcougar · 2 months

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Biotech Exorcists AU. Strap in for angst and worldbuilding my friends.

Eventually the seraphim and archangels do get the location of the barracks and don’t waste any time going there with the intention of finding out exactly what’s been hidden from them for so long.

The barracks themselves are a combination of a lab, a factory, and military barracks. There’s cells for newly captured sinners, cells for the exorcists, the training grounds, the operating theater, the mechanical workshop, all the things required to take the free will that Lucifer gave his people all those thousands of years ago.

The seraphim and archangels had theories, but actually seeing this place in all its horrible glory is a shock. Sera especially feels like she might be sick for the first time in her entire existence. (She approved this…)

The other angels in on the exorcist project are arrested as soon as they’re found, and as for the exorcists themselves… they have no idea what’s going on. From their perspective these strangers are suddenly in their home, putting the people who have always been in charge in chains, and looking at them with expressions they can’t read. But they also can’t really feel anything about any of it.

Raphael is primarily in charge of checking over the exorcists and seeing what state they’re in. He was expecting them to be skittish, aggressive, in denial, typical reactions for people whose lives are getting overturned. But they’re just… blank. Quiet. They do what they’re told without question or argument and don’t seem to even care about anything that’s happening. It’s unnerving and concerning to an extreme degree.

Things already aren’t great and then they find the records, specifically, they find the mortality records. The ones that detail every single death that’s happened within that building, every sinner who died screaming on a table or faded away in a cell or was put down like a rabid dog for the crime of their body or mind failing. There were even a pair of exorcists scheduled to be killed later that day, the order stating it was because they were mentally shutting down. Raphael was quick to get to them.

That wing of the building is also where they find Lilith, which opens a whole new can of worms that I probably need another post for.

#Biotech Exorcists AU #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel raphael #hazbin hotel sera #hazbin hotel exorcists #cw experimentation #cw dehumanisation #cw death

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fuck-customers · 6 months

Note

🧶

This is gonna be long.

I’m reeling from the idea of quitting Red Craft Store because of the upcoming dress code changes. I’ve never quit a job before, and it’s terrifying, even though I have another job that pays me more and will likely snap up my added availability.

I’ve been at this job for over 5 years. Until last fall, it was my favorite of my two jobs. But then corporate starting making changes, all of which made my job as a cashier more difficult: more steps involved to sort BOPIS orders; remove actual phones and replace them with scan guns, half of which don’t have functioning speakers; pushing an absolutely awful credit card (I heard it was rated worst in the country by Consumer Reports and with the 30% apr I’m not surprised); and stupid extended warranty that literally nobody ever wants (we’ve had it for a year and I’ve gotten maybe two people to buy one).

But now they want to strip us of our individuality. My other job has a uniform, so I’ve always had so much love for being able to wear pretty much whatever I wanted at Red Craft Store (henceforth RCS). I don’t even own any shirts with no words OR graphics on them, except for two I just purchased to use for 🦗 projects. And I constantly get compliments on all the buttons on my vest, one of my regulars just told me this week how much she loves them. I’ve made multiple real-life Swiftie friends from wearing my Swiftie shirts and buttons. I refuse to let them turn me into a customer service robot.

My other job, with the uniform? SmartPet (I’m also the 🐶 anon), even they’re more flexible than RCS is about to be, because we get shirts for events and stuff that we can add to our collection of work-approved shirts, and I’ve already gotten manager approval for a lanyard to display some buttons on, I just haven’t found one I like yet.

Hopefully RCS will see a mass quitting and backpedal, and if so I’ll go back, but I’m not getting my hopes up; they seem determined to ruin everything. They used to get awarded “great place to work” just a few years ago and now this.

Sorry for all the rambling, I guess I’m still trying to process all this. But I know in my soul when it’s time to go.

Posted by admin Rodney.

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allophonicmess · 9 months

Text

Past's Lilac Haze

Chapter 2

Masterlist

You only wanted to help you niece with her theatre project. And it got you and your Timelord husband involved in an alien attack on one of London's most famous theatres.

So much for his retirement plans.

14th Doctor x Timelord!Wife! Reader

You travelled there quickly; Rose watched in fascination. She focused on each step, watching you turn leavers, press buttons, and dial symbols on the triangular screens, but in the end, she couldn't remember all the steps.

"You can turn that on in a clockwise direction. Count to three while you are turning it." You said in concentration, pointing towards the position of the tool on the Tardis console.

Your niece gasped," Really? Oh, my god!" She looked at the Doctor for a second approval, but he just nodded at her with a soft smile as he leaned against the railings.

Rose grinned, completing the task you assigned her to do. She looked at you for feedback, and you nodded at her; she did well.

"Almost there…" You said in concentration, keeping your eyes on the screen displaying your flight status. "Come here, look at this." You called her over, taking her by the shoulder to place her between you and the screen.

"Here, keep your eyes on this." You pointed at a circular symbol. You would teach her to read Gallifreyan at one point, but she was way too clever, already figuring out how to fly the ship. It would be negligent to also teach her the systems language. You loved her; you both did. But you also knew she had it in her to straight up steal the Tardis for a solo trip if she knew how.

"Keep your eyes on it." You leaned over her, flipping another switch. "And here we go!" You laughed excitedly, feeling the machine shift around you as it set into the time vortex. It felt so good to finally be flying again. Just for the fun of it and not out of duty because you were ordered to do so.

"Woah! Are we moving in time?" Rose gasped, watching with childish wonder as the symbols started spinning and changing at a fast pace. "Doctor, look!" She called him to look at the wonderous machine before her.

"Oh, I know." He laughed, crossing his arms and looking at the two of you with pride. Was this what his life was going to be like? If so, he truly loved the idea of retirement and simple things. Watching the people he loved come together and travel for fun. No more saving worlds, fighting enemies, no more running. Just this.

It sounded like heaven.

"And, volà!" You said singly, pressing a few buttons that stopped the time machine. It gave a soft whine and jutted slightly as it settled onto the softened ground just off the bank of the River Thames.

"Are we there?" Rose asked, a little confused. "It didn't make the landing sound." She looked at the Doctor, expressing her confusion. "You know: that uhue, uhue,…"

You hummed a little smugly, "Yeah, It's not supposed to do that." You turned away from the console to grab your coat. Where did you leave it again? Ugh, in the hallway, right. You loved the new, clean interior, but it could have been more practical. The coat hanger in number 12's ship had been a game changer, and you didn't know that you could miss something so simple so dearly.

"That sound is the handbrake." You called a little louder as you returned from the dresser in the hallway.

Rose looked accusingly at the Doctor, "You've been flying with the handbrake on? "But he sighed, shaking his head as he moved towards the exit.

"Maybe. But it makes it easier to navigate the fifth dimension." He pushed the Tardis doors open, allowing his niece to take a look at London in the early modern period. It was all timbered houses, a little weird-looking with uneven stories and thatched roofs.

"Whoa!" Rose laughed, in awe at the scene. "This is even better than New York!" She was about to step out and take the scene of the city in, but the Doctor quickly stopped her, holding her back with his arm over her front. "Careful! It's wet. Don't ruin your-"He vaguely motioned towards her light sneakers. What were they called again? She had told him multiple times, in fact. She wanted them for Christmas and almost suffocated him in a tight squeeze after unwrapping them under the Christmas tree. Expensive little things, but he wasn't one to judge. Human trend cycles were so much fun to watch, really.

"It's the 16th century, dear. Everything is wet here." You said unamused, from behind them, pushing them slightly to free up the exit.

Rose took a careful step outside, cringing slightly at the smell. Still, she quickly forgot about it when she saw the big wooden building behind her, just a few meters away. "It's the GGlobe! Oh my god!" She was surprisingly ecstatic about anything regarding Shakespeare.

"Yup, and in it's original spot. It got destroyed and rebuilt somewhere over there." You pointed towards a rather shabby looking barn and tavern.

"Hold on." Rose paused for a moment, lost in thought. "You said we were going to 1598. But, the Globe wasn't finished till 1699." She concluded.

The Doctor whistled, impressed at her deduction skills. "You really are Donna's daughter." He chucked, pulling her into a side hug. He blindly reached for your hand as he led the group towards the theatre, where a group had gathered to be let in. He squeezed your hand once he felt it in his, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You loved his gentle nature, preferring the soft symbols of love instead of the grand acts of romance. "You're right. But I thought,' You know what? If we are going to a Shakespearean production of the play, we might as well go see it in the Globe."

"Oh, this is much better than seeing it at some random theatre."Rose cheered. The three of you arrived at the gates, and you paused the group momentarily. "Hold on. Do you want to get sitting or standing tickets?" You looked amongst yourselves for a moment.

"Well, standing is more immersive, but then again-"The Doctor thought out loud. But Rose interrupted him before he got to finish his sentence.

"You are old. We get it." She smiled at him to soften the blow of her brutally honest statement. "Let's get seating." She hooked her arm into his and started moving towards the other entrance and away from the gate that led to the pit. You tried to stifle your laughter, amused at her statement.

Your husband gasped in shock at his niece's audacity. She should call herself lucky; he only let that comment slide because he loved her.

"You little-"He was pretending to be at a loss of words, playing into the role of the upset elderly.

"As you said, Donna's daughter." You shrugged, squeezing his hand once more as you entered the small building set up in front of the theatre that acted as a ticket shop.

You had been able to get rather good seating tickets, allowing the three of you to get comfortable in the lower ranks of the circular theatre. Or as comfortable as possible, considering the seating area consisted of wooden planks nailed onto other wooden elements. It wasn't called 'the wooden o' for nothing.

But Rose didn't mind. She was seated comfortably between her two timelord companions and studied the people moving through the theatre with great admiration. Travelling through space had been mesmerizing to her. And she admired you, maybe even envied you, for being able to travel all around the world so easily and in no time.

Unbeknownst to her, there had been a discussion between you, the Doctor and Donna about Rose's permission to travel. Her mother knew that forbidding her to do so wholly would make no sense. She would do it any way but in a much more dangerous way; worst case, all on her own and with no one to call to for help.

So you agreed to take it easy. Time and space travel in a light and minor friendly style. In practice, that meant exploring only one dimension at a time. Space travel? OK, keep it to Earth and the solar system for now and stay in real-time. Time travelling? Alright, but you stay on earth and don't interfere with crucial moments in time or interact with historical figures.

It was a good agreement and assured both parties that nothing too wild would happen on the small family trips. Another positive was that it got the Doctor thinking about the absurd and frankly life-threatening places he had visited regularly in the past. Reflection was key. So now a whiteboard hung in your shared study to collect 'Rose safe travel spots'.

"You two are settled? Feeling good?" You asked your niece, touching her arm softly to get her attention. Her eyes had been wandering over the crowd nonstop as she was oh-ing and ah-ing at her fellow theatregoers. Only this time, there happened to be a diverse mix of classes from the 17th century, all gathering to watch the play that she dreaded to perform in her 21st-century theatre class.

The Doctor had leaned closer to her, sometimes pointing towards particularly interesting-looking people or explaining customs that would seem strange to someone born in the mid-2000s. He enjoyed the role of the spectator more than he had imagined. It was easy and allowed him to finally release the tension he usually held in his body when travelling. There had always been the need to stay on high alert to protect his companions or find the source of danger before it was too late. Allowing himself to relax typically meant that others would get hurt or die. But this newly acquired retirement allowed him to lean back and enjoy for once. The other Doctor would take care of it. He knew that he would be hungry for the chase at some point later in time. Still, he was content with taking his wife and niece to the theatre like other families did, only with the perks of owning a space and time machine.

"Yup, all good." The Doctor answered for the two of them. He leaned forward just like you did to catch your eyes. He smiled softly at you.

"Great, I'll just get some snacks before the performance starts. You want some grapes?" You asked Rose, who was finally loosened from her trance. She looked at you with confusion at the seemingly absurd question.

"Grapes? Can't we get real snacks?" She tried to find the vendor moving through the pit, scanning what he was offering from his vendor's tray.

"Well, they may have other fruits and nuts, but nothing snacky like you suggest." You listed a few items; none of them sparked her interest.

"Should have come here for the evening performance then. That's when they roll out the rotisserie chicken and oysters." The Doctor commented, making the young woman cringe.

"I'm still vegan, you know. And oysters, really?" She shook her head to let go of the thought. "Um, just a drink, please. Water- No, wait, you couldn't drink that. It's poisonous, right?... I don't know, just nothing too fancy, please."

You nodded, getting up and moving through the tightly packed crowed towards the moving vendor.

"What can I get such a beautiful lady?" He asked, already prepping a few cups of wine for the thirsty crowd.

"I'll have-"

You stopped.

It was a lovely, slightly chilly but pretty warm day, reading that you had just entered May. Only some lone clouds graced the sky; the sun was shining. So why did you feel that sizzle of electricity? It felt like that rush in the air, the pressure around you just before a thunderstorm. Your eyes wandered through the crowd, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.

"What is it that you want?" The vendor asked, somewhat annoyed at your sudden loss of focus. A line had formed behind you.

"Um, sorry. Some ale, please. Two cups." You paid for the overpriced, watered down beer and returned to your seats where your companions waited. You took a deep breath, focusing on the sloshing liquid, trying not to spill any and to calm your nerves.

Everything was fine.

It's a Wednesday at the theatre, all was fine.

But your eyes locked with the Doctors when you returned to your seat. He let Rose ramble on about some man with extraordinarily pointy shoes, only focusing on you. The two of you had perfected the non-verbal communication of eye contact.

'All good?'

'I don't know. Something feels off…'

'You noticed it, too.'

He agreed to your assumption with a micro expression, slightly pursing his lips. You hardly saw it, ensuring that Rose wasn't aware of your exchange.

'Do we leave?'

At that moment, the third stage bell sounded, informing everyone that the show was about to begin. The movement in the pit stopped, and people in the rows sat down as the band started playing.

"Why are you still standing? It's starting." Rose said in a hushed tone, pulling your sleeve to have you sit down. "Is that mine?" She took one of the cups from you, smelling it before taking a small sip.

You shared one more look with the Doctor before sitting down.

'It's fine. Probably just the weather.'

What a lazy lie, but you didn't want to ruin the fun for Rose. She was grinning from ear to ear, watching the performers enter the stage. You couldn't force her to leave now over the unreliable feeling that something might be off.

It could be a minor solar storm or any irrelevant situation that just happened to make your instincts act like a real threat would.

"Ugh, is this beer?" Rose cringed, starring angrily at the cup in her hand.

"It's ale. It's what people drink since water is poisonous, remember?" The Doctor jested, taking the cup from her hand and taking a big sip from it to overexaggerate the joke.

The three of you watched the performance. The actors were rather good, but you were thankful for the Tardis translations aiding Rose. Early Modern English was painful to listen to at times.

You had been able to relax after the first two acts passed with noting out of the ordinary. Rose had been fascinated by the mechanicals. Patting your leg to get your attention when the actor for Peter Quince, her assigned role, entered the stage in the first act.

"Now it's time for the third act. They meet in the forest for the rehearsal." She whispered to you when she noticed your focus shifting away from the stage.

"Pat, pat. And here's a marvels convenient

place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be

our stage, this hawthorn brake our tiring-house,

and we will do it in action as we will do it before the Duke."

Rose quietly followed the lines, mouthing the words as the actor spoke them. The Doctor noticed your mental absence, leaning back to create eye contact behind Rose.

'You are alright?'

'Mhm'

You leaned forward to escape his line of view, but he moved in tandem with you.

'No, don't do that. You tell me not to do that, so don't do that yourself.'

'I'm not doing anything.'

'Your acting.. off'

'Off?'

'Oh please, your focus is somewhere else. You still have that feeling, don't you?'

He raised his eyebrows expectingly at you. But you just shook your head.

'Yes… No,- I'm not sure it's like-'

"What are you two doing?" Rose looked between the two of you. She had noticed the staring contest that you held over her.

"What hempen homespuns have we swagg'ring here

So near the cradle of the Fairy Queen?

What, a play toward? I'll be an auditor—

An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause."

Puck entered the stage, watching the mechanics rehearse their play. He was weaving between them, watching each one of them closely as they stayed frozen in their positions.

"Sorry, we were just-"You tried to explain but stopped when that feeling returned. You gasped, feeling a cold shower run down your back. There was unusual movement in the crowd. The people started to get uneasy, and murmuring started to get louder. The crowed started yelling at the actors.

Why?

Because they still stood there, frozen in their movements. Only puck was slowly moving over the stage, walking towards the front of it.

You enjoy this iffy play

Where humans pretend to hold magie

You wander blindly night and day

Ignoring the magic amongst thee

But I shall show you what there is

Behind this sadly tiring ground

When I cast around you blinding mist

And set for terror, you are bound

The yells of dissatisfaction turned into screams of terror as the monologue ended, and small, flying creatures started to attack the crowd. Rose instinctively leaned into you, trying to find safety between the two timelords beside her.

You sighed with a profound exhaustion. Could the universe leave you alone? At least once?

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #fourteenth doctor #the doctor x reader #dw specials #reader insert #dw #14th doctor #timelord!reader #timelord #rose temple noble #fluff #x reader #14th doctor x reader #established relationship

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0-amateur-writer-0 · 10 months

Text

Lines

Characters: Stan Pines, Ford pines.

Tags: Angst, Hurt no comfort, Character study.

Wordcount: 1,810

Summary:

“You really don’t understand why I want this place to be shut down, do you?”

Stan sniffs. “I think I got some ideas.”

Ford narrows his eyes. “Do you?”

He’s home. He’s actually home. Back in his Earth—in Gravity Falls, Oregon.

Hard to believe that a few days ago, he was at the precipice of life and death. About to end things once, and for all with Bill. That’s how it was supposed to be. One way or another, everything was supposed end that day. But now he’s honest to God walking through his house. Opening cupboards, and drawers. Studying every nook, and cranny. Observing how much has changed, and how much has stayed the same.

The house definitely had seen better days. Everything was aged, and weathered. You could even spot some awkward patch jobs here, and there. The ones you do on your own to save money, instead of by someone who actually knew what they were doing.

Indeed, Stan must’ve been a stingy on the upkeep. He could hear a lot of new creaks, and sounds now. But…the house is somewhat neat, and tidy at least.

He supposes he should be thankful if for that. That his home is still here after all this time. Still standing. Still livable. When he already made peace long ago, that his house would be left to rot—reduced to a pile of would-be firewood.

Ford rounded a corner, and stops in his tracks. Any feelings of gratitude he had had quickly went down the drain.

Now this is a change he could really do without.

The house doubles as a hokey tourist trap now. One that’s entire gimmick was based on showcasing a variety of very made-up anomalies.

Being in this room is already starting to royally piss him off. Though for some reason that escapes him, he decided to stay and look around. Making his way the first exhibit that caught his eye.

Ford glares at the taxidermized monstrosity before him. It was obviously meant to resemble sasquatch, or even bigfoot. Brown fur, big feet, and ape-like features, though a striking difference could be seen on how it’s…wearing an underwear.

(Why even? What evolutionary need could it possibly fulfill by wearing one?)

“Sascrotch,” He sneers. “I can’t believe people actually—"

“Yeah, ya don’t like the Shack. We get it. Keep steppin’, and move on already.” A gruff voice piped up from his left.

Ford turns his head to the source of said voice, to find Stan leaning against the counter—counting the money he made off from the last group of tourists.

(Has he always been there?)

“You really don’t understand why I want this place to be shut down, do you?”

Stan sniffs. “I think I got some ideas.”

Ford narrows his eyes. “Do you?” He challenges.

Stan muttered something under his breath, but otherwise did nothing but continue to count the money in his hands. The sound of paper bills being shuffled seemed to fill the empty gift shop. It grated on his nerves. Then again, everything that Stan does seem to grate on his nerves these days.

Ford made his way to the next set of exhibits. The Six Pack O’ Lope. The Cornicorn. He swears some of them looked more like one of Mabel’s arts and crafts projects.

“I have spent most of my life studying the weird. Trying to make sense of the nonsense. Trying to prove their existence to the scientific community.”

“I had to take on twelve PhDs to get people to take me seriously. Twelve. And that wasn’t even accounting the number of favors, and good standing I had to build up just so I could get my grant approved by the committee.”

Of course, I could’ve avoided all that if I had gone to West Coast Tech instead. He almost wanted to say, but quickly bit his tongue.

“Well, that’s kinda’ dumb.” Stan comments.

(If his ears weren’t mistaken, Ford could’ve sworn there was a note of genuine sympathy in Stan’s voice.)

Ford just shook his head. “The committee didn’t see my want to research anomalies as top priority. Especially when compared to things like researching the cure for cancer, or alternative energy, or artificial intelligence and whatnot.”

“But one way, or another. I managed to show them my worth. I gave them reason, after reason as to how my research could be beneficial. And eventually, they decided to give me a chance.”

Ford wrinkled his nose when he passes by some shelves filled with tacky souvenirs. One lined with snow globes, another with Mr. Mystery bobbleheads, and another filled with…ugh, those horrific Burpin’ Stanford Pines figurines. Though he stops when he comes across a nearly empty shelf lined with empty glass jars. A sign nearby tells him that these are ‘invisible fairy companions! Only $35!’.

His attention wasn’t on the obvious scam in front of him. Instead, Ford watches his face being reflected on the glass jars.

“I thought,” he says. “If I did all of that, then…maybe I could finally change the way people view them.”

“I wasn’t hoping to change everyone’s minds, but if I could get a few people to stop looking at them like something to be afraid of. Like something to be pointed, and gawked at…” He pauses, and then turns to look at Stan. “Do you see where I’m going with this?”

Stan just stares at him with a blank expression on his face.

(Dear Tesla, does he really have to spell this out?)

Ford took a deep calming breath, before saying: “What you’re doing here with the Mystery Shack. Not only is it a mockery of my life’s work, it’s a mockery of me.”

Stan narrows his eyes. “What are you talkin’ about?”

Ford could feel the threads of his self-control being cut. “Do you really not realize what you’re doing here!? You’re bringing all sorts of people in here, and teaching them it’s okay to point, and laugh at things they don’t understand. You’re teaching them to point, and laugh at things like me!”

Ford clicked his tongue. Whether Stan’s earlier confusion was genuine, or an act mattered little to him at the moment. The damage was done. To his house. To his reputation. To his life’s work.

--You’re a six-fingered freak!

And they would be right. That’s all he is. All he will ever be.

He’d lost the chance to ever prove them wrong.

“Be honest,” Ford demanded. “All those times you told me that I wasn’t a freak was a lie, wasn’t it?” He gestures towards the various exhibits in the Shack. “This is how you actually feel about me.”

“Do you also have stuffed six-fingered hand lying around? I’m surprised I haven’t seen it yet. An exhibit like that will surely—"

“You think I’d do that?” Stan asks.

Ford pauses, and then turns to Stan. And once his eyes landed on his brother, the red mist that clouded his vision seemed to dissipate at that moment.

Stan was staring at him, and though his expression was blank—there was a gamut of emotions swirling in the depths of his brother’s eyes. Raw and honest emotions that Ford didn’t want to look too closely into.

“You really think I’d do that to you?” Stan asks again. His voice quiet.

Ford opens his mouth, but he quickly finds that no words could come out. Something in Stan’s eyes. Something in the way his brother spoke, seemed to sap all the remaining fight and anger in him.

“I used to beat up every single punk who bad-mouthed you when we were kids. And ya really think that I’m gonna’ turn around, and start doin’ all that crap they did to you?” A pause. “You really think that I’m no better than guys like Crampelter?”

Ford’s looks down—suddenly finding it hard to look Stan in the eyes. “That isn’t what I…”

He tries to find something to defend himself with, but nothing kept coming up. After all, that was essentially what he had just implied wasn’t it?

The silence hung between them until Stan took several steps forward, only stopping when he’s at an arms-length in front of Ford.

“…Y’know,” Stan says. “I got a lotta reasons for starting the Mystery Shack. And that thing you just said… You think that folks come through here to point and laugh at all these arts and crafts rejects. But the only thing being pointed and laughed at in here…is me.”

“Cause you wanna’ know something?” He jabbed a finger onto Ford’s chest. “Just because you got no problems callin’ me worthless, that doesn’t mean I’m gonna’ stoop to your level and start callin’ you a…”

It took everything in him to not look away—to return Stan’s glare head on. On the outside, one might mistake him for being the picture of indifference. The only thing anyone could see was a mask of cold, hard disapproval plastered on his face

But on the inside, in the deepest parts of him where no one was privy to—part of him dreaded of what’s to come. The part of him that used to go on adventures with Stan on the beach. The part of him that used to spend whatever free time available, to work on an old derelict sailboat. The part of him that used stay up to the late hours of the night talking, and planning about the places they’d sail away to one day.

That part of him was terrified of his twin brother calling him that word.

But he knew it was coming. It’s only a matter of time. He braces himself and…

…nothing happened.

Stan just looks down, his hand falling limply back to his side. And Ford found himself letting out a breath he didn’t even knew he was holding.

Both men stood at the middle of the empty gift shop. Stan kept looking down at the floor, and Ford couldn’t seem to peel his eyes away from his brother—at how tired, and defeated he looked. His right-hand twitches, and then starts to lift and inch itself closer towards Stan.

He didn’t really know what he was trying to do. He just…has a sudden urge to reach out. But before he could make any contact, Stan took a step back from him.

“Believe it or not, I actually got lines I ain’t never gonna’ cross.” Was all Stan said to him, before he made his way outside.

The front door slammed shut.

Ford watches the door for a moment. Before his gaze, inexplicably, wanders back to the shelf lined with those Burpin’ Stanford Pines toys. It was an insult. It was his name being printed on those boxes, but looking at those figurines again—at how it was wearing a bright red fez, and a black tuxedo…the similarities that he somehow hadn’t seen before became so clear.

It was Stan.

Ford pinches the bridge of his nose. “What the hell am I doing?”

#gravity falls #stanford pines #stanley pines #angst #stangst #fanfic #a character study I wanted to do for a while

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