#did i genuinely miss 40 apples or what

[neopianbiologyproject]

I already know I'm about to disqualify a bunch of these, but I double checked the "Apple" specimen count and it's up to 93 potential Apple species

[tokkiwrites]

in which you finally come home from college. it's been almost 4 years, and you're shocked to see how hot your dad's best friend has gotten ㅡ but he can say the same for you.

tags: dbf!joel miller (yeppeee), dom!joel, sub!reader, afab reader, age gap (reader is 23 n joel is in his mid 40s), rough sex, unprotected p in v (wrap that up yall), pet names (lots of em), no use of y/n (ik shocking), spit, choking, trying to have sex in secret (idk what you call that), oh yeah readers dads name is William but every1 calls him Will ok?? pls let me know if i missed anything!!!

You step off the bus, feeling a strange mix of nostalgia and anticipation as you gaze at the familiar sights of your small hometown. It's been four years since you last set foot in this place, and the memories flood back. You know you'll find your dad, Joel and Sarah waiting for you, but there's also that fluttering in your stomachㅡㅡ that secret crush on him that you've never quite been able to shake. As you walk down the street, you can't help but wonder how much things have changed.

Hopefully, not much.

As you approach your childhood home, you can't help but notice how the old oak tree in the front yard has grown taller, casting a welcoming shade on the well-worn swing that still hangs from its sturdy branches. Your heart flutters as you step onto the front porch, taking in the familiar scent of your dad's famous apple pie wafting through the screen door.

You open the door to find your dad, in the cozy kitchen, wearing his favorite flannel shirt as he carefully pulls a bubbling pie from the oven. His eyes light up when he sees you, and he rushes over to engulf you in a warm, tight hug. "You're finally home, sweetheart," he says, his voice filled with genuine joy.

Joel's daughter, Sarah, stands a few feet away, her eyes lighting up with a bright smile as she watches the reunion. "Welcome back!" she exclaims, stepping forward to give you a warm hug too.

And there he is, tall and way too massive. when did he get so big? ㅡㅡ you're not complaining, though. His hair has started to gray, and his beard is gruff... your eyes sparkle as you stare up at Joel, waiting for him to say something.

"welcome home, darlin'" he breaks the silence, your heart racing as Joel's deep, rich voice washes over you. he steps forward, embracing you warmly. his arms are strong, and you can't help but take a deep breath in as you inhale his musky scent that's almost intoxicating.

As he pulls back from the hug, you meet his warm, hazel eyes, the world almost stopping. You've always been drawn to him, all though you thought it was just a stupid kid crush but now, with the years of separation and growth behind you, that attraction only seemed to intensify as you get to look at him again.

you're brought out of your trance as your dad's voice echoes through the room "c'mon, kiddo. made your favorite: cinnamon apple pie!" You can't help but giggle as you see the sheer excitement in your dad.

"dad, you didn't need to."

"course i had to, you've been away for years, and i aint lettin you off that easy, girl."

You can't help but chuckle at your dad's enthusiasm, feeling a warm sense of belonging. "Well, in that case, I'm not going to argue with your logic," you reply with a playful wink. The scent of the freshly baked cinnamon apple pie fills the air, and it's a comforting reminder of the home you've missed so much during your time away.

"good thing you're home." Joel speaks up "now he can cook for you and not stuff me full of all his kitchen...experiments." his chuckle is low, making your heart thump. you nod, slicing up the pie and placing a piece each on four different plates, adorning every slice with some fresh cream.

"Oh, I think I've missed those kitchen experiments more than anything," you quip with a sly grin, sharing a secret look with your dad.

Sarah chimes in, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "We've been Will's taste testers for years, but now you're back to rescue us, right?"

You all sit around the kitchen table, enjoying the warm pie and the laughter that fills the room. It's moments like these that make you grateful for being back home, surrounded by the people you love, even if it does come with a side of unspoken desire for the one man who has always had a special place in your heart.

does that make it sound better than saying you want your dad's best friend to fuck you? maybe.

"god, can you believe it's been four years? feels like only yesterday i was givin' you piggyback rides." Joel smiles, eyes crinkled at the corners as he takes a sip of some bear. "hey, Sarah is still little, you can give her all the piggyback rides you wanna." you laugh.

"don't give him any ideas, girl." the teen furrows her brows as she takes a large bite from her pie. "actually, me 'n joel thought it would be a good idea if we had a movie night tomorrow, for old times sake. do you remember those? god, they were fun, huh?"

"dad! you're saying it as if I'm ancient... I ain't 40." Joel turns to you, raising his brows "careful, missy. don't discriminate against 40 year olds." your cheeks light up as your eyes meet his, unable to say anything. you just swallow what you've been chewing and nod away.

Joel's laughter fills the room, and he playfully nudges your shoulder. "Alright, enough teasin'. Let's focus on planning that movie night. Remember how we used to pick out our favorite films and stack up the snacks like a mountain?"

Sarah chimes in, excitement in her eyes. "Can we make cheesy popcorn with chocolate chips?" you scrunch up your nose,"gross, sarah! you still like those? thought it was just weird kid cravings, you know?"

"you didn't even try them, stop bein' a hater!" she groans, slumped in her seat. You chuckle at Sarah's determination. "Alright, alright, I'll give your cheesy popcorn with chocolate chips a shot. After all, it's all about making this movie night special."

Joel grins and pats your back. "That's the spirit, kiddo. We're up for some culinary adventures, ain't we?" your heart jumps, and you feel like a teenager againㅡㅡ god, some things never change.

As the night falls, Sarah heads to sleep in your room, and your dad leaves you and Joel to clean up what's left in the kitchen. It didn't take long, 10 minutes at most, so you decide to sit for a bit.

The living room is bathed in a gentle, dim glow from the soft, ambient lighting. You and Joel settle onto the couch, the familiar cushions cradling you both. As you chat and reminisce, the comfortable silence that has always defined your connection fills the room.

Joel reaches for the old photo album your dad always kept on the coffee table, and you watch as he flips through its pages. The photographs tell the story of both your family's journey together – from vacations at the beach to the holidays you celebrated. Memories cascade from each page, and Joel's gaze lingers on a particularly cherished photo.

He turns to you, a wistful smile on his face. "Remember this trip, that cabin by the lake? Sarah was so little then, and she caught her first fish. You were so little..."

"yeah, I remember..."

"you're all grown up now. I honestly thought you'd forget about your dad and I." Joel chuckles, wrapping his bicep around you, pulling you in closer. "Don't be ridiculous. never in a million years." you reply.

then there's silence. your gaze locks on his, and you can hear your heartbeat in your headㅡㅡ his eyes never leave yours. Joel's calloused palm reaches your face, tracing small circles onto your burning cheek.

"think your dad's gonna come out soon?" he asks, licking his bottom lip as he waits for your response. while he looks at you, words get stuck in your throat, and you can't get them outㅡㅡ so you just shake your head 'no'.

"thought you'd grow out of this shyness, darlin'. i guess it's that effect I've on ya, huh?" smirking, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, causing you to shiver lightly.

Joel's presence, so close, and his touch have you captivated. The room feels charged with tangible tension. His teasing remark makes you smile, though you're still struggling to find words, the unspoken feelings hanging in the air.

"c'mon, sweetheart, answer me."

"j-joelㅡ" what does he want you to say? is he testing you? does he feel it, too? better yet, does he hear how fast your heart is beating whenever he leans closer to you.

"ya still hear the water runnin?" you nod. "good." he licks his lips before grabbing the back of your head, pulling you inches away from his lips. "can I?"

you muster the fastest 'yes', and when realization hits, your face grows red as an apple, causing joel to laugh. "eager girl." and with that, he leans in, placing his lips atop yours. the kiss is deep, a bit sloppy, but it feels like it's been heavy waiting to happen for so long. his beard scratches at your skin, drawing soft hums from you as it does so.

a few moments pass, and joel pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips, one that he breaks when his rough thumb drags itself across your bottom lip. "pretty, pretty girl." you moan, you feel so pathetic. he's barely touched you, yet you feel the pool growing inside your panties by the second.

"p-please, joel.."

"please, what, darlin? gotta tell me exactly what ya want." he smiles, prepping soft pecks onto your face. "t-touch me..please." you gather the courage to speak up, watching his eyes grow darker as he hears your request.

"fuck, baby...what would your dad say if he heard you just then, huh?" chuckling low, his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, making you whimper. "don't c-care.."

"that so?" he tilts his head to the side, his thumb urging your mouth to open. "c'mon, girl, open." and you do as you're told, opening you mouth wide, tongue lolled out. he then gathers some spit in his mouth before letting the glistening droplet fall from his lips onto your tongue.

"swallow." he commands, and you obliged. "atta girl."

its so overwhelming, so dirty, and he didn't even do anything. at this moment, it feels as if only a slight nip at your skin could send you over the edge.

suddenly, you both hear steps upstairs, followed by a door closing. it's your dad. "you guys alright? think ive had too much to eatㅡ nothin' new there. imma head to bed, you guys cand manage yourselves, yeah?" and with that he closes the door to his room, leaving you and Joel staring at each other.

"tell me, you really wanna do this, darlin' ?"

"please, joel...need thisㅡㅡ need you."

Guilt clawed at your heart. Yet, you couldn't stop what you felt. it was wrong, but in this moment, it felt so right. "fuck, okay angel."

his large hands start to pull at your clothes, undressing you in an instant, leaving your naked body shivering. "i got you, babygirl." joel leans in, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your hip all the way to your mid thigh. your body jolts as you try to remain quiet.

"gonna let me ruin you, sweet girl?" and it feels like your heart could run a marathon. you nod away, eagerly. you feel so pathetic, all sprawled out naked under him, whilst he's still dressed. "words, baby."

"fuckㅡ please, joel, please..." you almost cry.

he laughs, fingers reaching your folds and swirling around them "fuck, darlin', you're so wet. all this for me, hm?" he teases "yes, f-for you...please."

"shh.." hushing you, he finally pushes inside one of his fingers, making you bite back a moan. you cover your mouth with your hands, a warm sensation flooding your bodyㅡ it feels like you could come just now.

"so tight, baby. can't wait to feel you 'round my cock." you choke back a pathetic whine. "you like it? like it when i fuck you with my fingers and talk to you like this?" you nod, pushing yourself further onto his digits. "filthy girl, s'it turn you on knowing your dad could walk in in us, huh? want him to see ya full of my cock? c'mon, answer, girl."

"yesㅡ shit, yes, please, joel, please..."

"s'okay, baby, don't worry. 'll fuck you so good you'll forget your own name. make you take this cock until you can't walk no more."

your vision was hazy from all the tears in your eyes, and your heart felt stuck in your throat. you watch the man discard himself of his clothesㅡㅡ holy. fucking. shit. all of your fantasies of Joel couldn't prepare you for what was going to happen. he stood there, tall, gruff as he stroked himself. his length was girthy, almost too thick, veiny, with a red, angry tip. he knew he was huge, that's what made it so exciting to him watching you gawk at his cock.

"c'mon, doll. it won't bite...open wide now. widee ㅡ there you go..." he preaises, sliding his length between your lips. it was hard to adjust, and honestly, your jaw was hurting from the first minutes you had him in your mouth. but the way his lips dripped with quiet moans, 'goodgirls' and 'thats rights', it made you push back the pain. it was bearableㅡ you just wanted to make him proud.

"jesus christ, girl, you look so pretty, mouth full of my cock." the man laughs, pushing his length further down your warm throat that was constricting as you gagged around him. "shitㅡ gonna make me come, sweet girl." hissing, he pulls out, leaving you gasping for air.

"joel, need you inside...please.."

"you're so gorgeous like this, baby. my gorgeous girl, begging for cock." he sighs, caressing you cheek before his hand slides down to wrap around your neck, squeezing it and making you light-headed. "gonna let me fuck you stupid, darlin'? c'mon, answer."

"y-yes, Joel, want you t'fuck me s-stupid, please..."

joel scoffs, placing a little kiss on your forehead. with his other hand, he grabs his shaft and drags the tip along your folds, collecting all the juices that dripped from you. "fuckin' soaked for me, baby."

"jus' for you.."

"i know, baby. i know.."

without stalling, he pushes in just the tip making you yelp as the sting spread through your pussy. you stare him deep in the eyes as he pushes in further, hushing you along the way. it was so bigㅡ too big. but you loved it, you loved that it was all you dreamed about and more.

"s' everything good, darlin'? want me to stop?"

"please don't...move, please, i need youㅡ please.."

"gonna give me a stroke if you keep on beggin' like that, baby..." with that, he pushes in all the way, ripping through you, his precum mixing with your juices that were flowing over his cock. he thrusts in you cunningly, gripping your hips tightly and licking long strips down your neck. all you could do is sit there and take it. take it and make him proud.

"so pretty, baby. so, so pretty and tight, shitㅡ " joel moans, indulging further into you. your hips crash with his, and you try your best to say quiet as you feel his cock hit so deep, you're sure it reached your stomach. the room spun with you, you could only mutter little 'joels' as he pounded into you.

after a few more pumps that familiar feeling was pooling at your core, causing you to tighten around Joel's length, which made him grunt and pull your hips flush to his "that's it, girl. come around my cock, let me feel ya."

you let go. bliss and pleasure take over you as your body contorts under joel, your walls fluttering around his shaft perfectly. it doesn't take him long reach his high, pumping a few more times into you before he take his cock out and paint your stomach with white, silky strands.

you both sit there in silence for a bit before you finally decide to speak up. "movie night tomorrow will be...something."

"now you're talkin' , darlin'? c'mon, let's get ya cleaned up and pray no one heard us."

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎  토끼's NOTE : yall are eating good today. here with another fic this time our fave insane dilf JOEL !!! this has 2.78k words and probably lots of grammatical errors ITS NOT PROOFREAD OK?!?!?! hope you like it guys <3 tysm and ily!!!

[pearblossommina]

ToG Read-A-Long, Crown of Midnight, day 6

39

I still like Archer

I like Dorian, too

I already tried solving this riddle, lol, so, I’m done putting in novice effort. But she should ask Dorian because he’s increasingly growing into magic. Maybe he knows something she doesn’t. Or maybe Nehemia mentioned something to him that she never mentioned to Celaena.

40

Oh, yeah!

Somehow I forgot about Yellowlegs and her overtly silly name.

“There are worlds that exist beyond your knowledge, worlds that lie on top of each other and don’t know it. Right now, you could be standing in the bottom of someone else’s ocean. The Wyrd keeps these realms apart.”

Shit, yeah! Finally!

Let’s go to the faerie realm!!!

Is Yellowlegs our friend or is she supposed to be a villainess? I have been growing fond of her because she has a funny name - and I like that she works for a traveling carnival. But Celaena seems to fear and not trust this woman, lol.

41

What the carnival’s LEAVING

we didn’t even get to GO to the carnival

Where’s my fluff! No! How dare you entice me with a fun carnival and ONLY use it’s spooky weird witch to further your plot! There could have been HAND HOLDING and APPLE BOBBING and Celaena winning a target shooting contest and giving one of the boys the an oversized novelty plush bear!

Chaol and Dorian are so wet for each other

Sometimes I miss the way things were before, lol

(They’ll be ok)

ANNNNND I’m pretty sure Yellowlegs is a villainess - lol - that went off the rails so quickly (such a shame Yellowlegs I was really growing to like you) (RIP)

42

Blackbeaks, Bluebloods, Yellowlegs, these are the best names lmao they sound like species of birds

Ok, I know Chaol and Celaena are not going to make up. Those wounds are still too raw, and he’s just being kind of the worst. I feel like their ship didn’t stand a chance! But I like Dorian better anyway, lol.

43

Getting a little bored

Celaena’s exploring the castle again

My eyes are glazing over

She went to the clock tower

Idk if that’s significant at all

44

The eight dead in the clock tower

(I genuinely forgot that happened in the last book)

(I swear I’m trying lol)

What the hell is going on

Is this Bryaxis?

(it’s TRAPPED IN THE LIBRARY too!)

DORIAN DORIAN DORIAN

watching Celaena kill that thing. God she’s so sexy.

“The sight of his feet felt strangely intimate”

I don’t know why this line slammed into me like it did! SJM, I don’t need you to tell me about Dorian showing off his feet. I MEAN you can if you want but…

(Celaena has a foot fetish, she’s the best, you guys)

I’m really here for them getting together (?) again. I love magical boys. I’m a sucker for Dorian. He’s awesome.

I think I’m going into a small rut, I’m not losing interest, but this book is giving me a lot of daydream worthy moments. I am *trying* I just don’t have the world’s greatest attention span!

I’m not sure what the heck is going on with the plot…It feels like it’s ALL over the place, and I feel like I’m struggling a little bit to keep up.

Since Nehemia died I feel like the King has been largely absent from the story, and I thought he was our big bad this book. She found and killed Nehemia’s assassin in about a minute. I don’t know who to watch out for right now. It seemed like Yellowlegs snuck in there to be have a sinister moment - and then got immediate defeated - so I don’t have to worry about her. Celeana’s still trying to solve riddles and work out the mystery of the library, but then she just killed that creature immediately too! Idk. I said before that there’s pacing issues in this one, I definitely think it’s starting to become more apparent.

[fakevariety]

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

...yes

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

mmm probably my dad

03: Do you regret anything?

so many things but i can't think of anything off the top of my head

04: Are you insecure?

very

05: What is your relationship status?

single probably forever because i don't think anyone will ever really like me like that (please don't think i'm trying to sound like some pick me i genuinely believe this)

06: How do you want to die?

peacefully in my sleep

07: What did you last eat?

an apple

08: Played any sports?

soccer! still do

09: Do you bite your nails?

not really but i pick at my hang nails a dangerous amount

10: When was your last physical fight?

never had one, too scared

11: Do you like someone?

yes ughhh

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

almost

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

YES UGH THIS BOY IN MY GRADE IS A HUGE DICK I GENUINELY HATE HIM

14: Do you miss someone?

hmmm actually no i don't think so

15: Have any pets?

yesss my amazing dog he is an asshole and i love him so so much

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

i have no idea i just know it isn't good

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

no lol

18: Are you scared of spiders?

hmmm not really but i'm terrified of crickets

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

YES PLEASSSE

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

never kissed anyone

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

it is currently the weekend but for next weekend... i don't think i have any futsal (indoor soccer) games so i'll probably just rot on my couch

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

hmm probably not but i'm not sure

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

just one on my ears, but i think i want a septum ring eventually

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

ELA!!!!!

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

i have a person i got very close to last year who in my eyes kind of left me. we're okay now, but i guess i kind of miss who i used to think they were i guess? idk if that makes sense, i guess this person isn't really from my past since i still interact with them daily but also they are since i no longer think of them that way

26: What are you craving right now?

nothing currently i feel kind of sick but usually reeses peanut butter cups i can't get enough of that shit

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

geez i hope not i don't think so

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

never been in a romantic relationship so no

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

see directly above

30: What’s irritating you right now?

my dad because he keeps bugging me about how much i get on screens and it does nothing but make me pissed

31: Does somebody love you?

besides my family? yes, i actually currently don't have trouble truly believing my friends love me, which is really nice

32: What is your favourite color?

hmmm idrk i like gray but also dark green but also blue

33: Do you have trust issues?

kind of. not really, idk. i'm scared people will leave me.

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

i don't know i don't usually remember my dreams but the last one i can remember involved boygenius of course

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

my brother because he accidentally hit me in the face lol

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

yes

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

forgive definitely

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

fuck no, it's the worst

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

see question 20 (haven't kissed anyone)

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

noooo lmao

51: Favourite food?

okokok

meatball pizza

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

no but sometimes i do believe that things are supposed to happen. if that makes sense

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

scrolled on my phone

54: Is cheating ever okay?

i honestly don't know

55: Are you mean?

sometimes but i try not to be

56: How many people have you fist fought?

never have

57: Do you believe in true love?

yes but i think it's bullshit that true love is always romantic

58: Favorite weather?

hmmm i love when it's cloudy and a bit chilly and just... calm.

59: Do you like the snow?

YES

60: Do you wanna get married?

i have no idea

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

depends on the person but probably not

62: What makes you happy?

my friends. honestly they are kind the only thing that makes me super happy these days, besides my brother and nanny

63: Would you change your name?

yesssss sometimes i want to

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

again i have never kissed anyone ha

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

would probably freak out and avoid the situation, which would include the person

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

yup

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

my dad lol

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

hmmm. my bsf, she was surprised that i've cried over her and all of my friends and i was surprised that she doesn't cry over her friends.

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

yes! but again, they don't have to be romantic.

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

definitely

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Congrats on 300 followers!! I'm really enjoying all your fics for the event. For the prompt, I choose 40. "What do you want me to do?"

You're in luck, anon! You are my last prompt to fill for this event! Thank you and everyone else who has sent in a prompt for all the wonderful requests and I hope you all enjoy this last drabble! 🥰

Prompt 14: “What do you want me to do?”

| 13 | Prompts |

Sam stretched, smiling as he found Bucky on the front porch. Sam was sweaty. He was a little shakey from the adrenaline still coursing through him from his workout. He was kind of hoping no one was watching him embarrassingly miss those last two shots at the tree.

But here Bucky was.

With a coffee mug in hand. Rooster hair because he hadn't brushed it yet. Still needed to shave with some of the worst patchy beard Sam had ever seen. Only in his underwear because the man did not know how to act sometimes. Staring at Sam dreamily with that cloud nine smile. Why did this weirdo have to be so beautiful in the warm light of sunrise?

"Watching me work out, huh?" asked Sam as he walked up the porch steps.

"What?" said Bucky into a yawn, "A man can't wander out onto the porch when he's helping his boyfriend house sit? Said man can't enjoy the view from said porch?"

Sam laughed as he sat in Bucky's lap. Sam grabbed the offered coffee and smiled as he took a sip. The dork made a mug of coffee for himself the way Sam liked it.

Or maybe he just made it for Sam and wanted to share.

"What view are we talking about?" asked Sam as he tried not to smile.

Sam settled into Bucky's lap. Relaxed there as Bucky held Sam loosely with his arms.

"The sunrise," said Bucky innocently.

"Oh, really? Just the sunrise?" asked Sam as he took a tactical sip of coffee.

Bucky kissed Sam on the cheek.

"What do you want me to do? Not watch my boyfriend workout?" asked Bucky, "You're fucking graceful. I don't even know how you bend like that."

"Gymnastics," said Sam, unable to stop himself from smiling any longer, "I did it all through middle school, high school, and college. Got a scholarship in it, actually."

"I didn't know that," said Bucky softly, "I... I just want to know everything about you. If that's. I hope that's not. Weird - "

Sam stopped Bucky's backtracking with a kiss. He tasted of coffee and Bucky's wintergreen toothpaste.

"No, not weird. I... like that you want to know everything," said Sam, feeling a little shy, "I want to know things about you, you know?"

"Things?" asked Bucky as he grabbed the coffee, then grimaced at the taste, "What things?"

"I don't know. Everything too? Maybe not all at once, but bits and pieces sprinkled into the day," said Sam, "Flavor my day with Bucky Facts."

"Only if you flavor my day with Sam Facts," said Bucky, the both of them giggling, "What should I tell you? What should I ask?"

"Uhhhhh - favorite fruit," said Sam, his brain panicking, "What's your favorite fruit?"

"You," said Bucky, the both of them laughing, "No, sorry, that's - I'm horrible."

"You are," said Sam, nodding, "I mean, I would say you too, but you're still horrible."

Bucky cackled.

"What am I going to do with you?" asked Bucky into Sam's shoulder.

"Tell me what your favorite fruit is, that's what you're going to do with me," snickered Sam.

"Uh... Ap...ples?" said Bucky, wincing.

"Apples?" said Sam dubiously.

"Okay. Fine. It's cotton candy grapes," bemoaned Bucky, "Judge me and my sweet tooth, it's cotton candy grapes."

"It's what?" asked Sam, genuinely unsure what Bucky was talking about.

"There's these grapes. At the store. They're a little pricier and they - they taste like cotton candy," mumbled Bucky.

Sam laughed.

"Wait, really? That's a thing?" said Sam.

"Yes. It is. I love them so," said Bucky, "I sort of hide them whenever you come over because I know they're weird."

"Okay, no need to do that. I'm not judging you on that," said Sam as he gave Bucky a kiss.

"What about you?" asked Bucky, "What's your favorite fruit? Besides me."

Sam snickered.

"Okay, it's um... it's pomegranate," said Sam, "When I was a kid, I was into myths. And I - I really loved Persephone and Hades for a while because out of all the greek gods, they're the kindest to humans. And their love story can be interpreted in many ways, but one interpretation is that Persephone, loving Hades yet not wanting to leave her mother alone, ate only six seeds. And there's something beautiful about wanting time with both a lover and family. That her lover was happy that she had room in her life for more than just him. That balance isn't just in the changing of seasons, but in the people in one's life. I don't know. Pomegranates are also super delicious."

Bucky pulled Sam in for another kiss. Long and loving. His eyes were filled with adoration as he moved away from Sam.

"How are you always so smart and amazing?" asked Bucky, "It really isn't fair. I give you my guilty pleasure fruit and you wax poetic about Persephone and Hades and metaphors about a good balance in one's life when it comes to loved ones? What the fuck?"

"I'm sorry. You landed someone out of your league," said Sam, giggling, "If it helps, I want to try these cotton candy grapes you've been hiding from me every time I visit your apartment."

Bucky laughed.

"Okay, that helps," said Bucky, holding Sam close, "I love you."

Sam wrapped his arms around Bucky as well, this strange, strange man who was somehow one of the most important people in Sam's life.

"I love you too," said Sam, happy to just cuddle for a bit.

*****

This is for my 300 Followers Event! Thank you so much to everyone who sent in a request for it and thank you for following me! 🥰

[tetsuhours]

Eating dinner after bickering

gn!reader x sugawara, tsukishima

genre: fluff/crack

*tsukki's is more of a prank gone wrong.. do whatever you want with this information..

a/n: this is based off of a tiktok i found where op was cooking dinner after an argument with their s/o and they basically gave their s/o a baby gulp's worth of pasta and some pink drink. (i dont have the link to show u guys am so sorry)

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

It wasn't a new thing for the both of you to bicker over what would seem like the dumbest things to other people.

"SHUT UP Y/N I LOVE YOU BUT YOU NEED TO STOP TRYING TO BE A FLAT EARTHER! it's genuinely embarrassing. this is the worst second-hand embarrassment i've ever had because they actually bought it."

This was THE first time he's ever said he loved you. You didn't know whether to start being romantic around him bc it didn't even seem like he realized what he said.

After preparing dinner for the both of you, he sets his bowl down, filled with your favourite ramen.

He walks balk to the kitchen only to return with the tiniest SIPPY CUP and a baby spoon.

There was a note written on the side that read "bon apple teef" and he just plainly looked at you while eating his "big boy food" o god don't you just hate and love him at the same time?

TSUKISHIMA KEI

You guys have never argued before because even though tsukishima was the type to let out mocking jokes, he'd still make up for it by giving you hugs and any form of affection that was kind of the sign of him saying that he didn't really mean what he said.

Today was going on as usual, cooking breakfast for the both of you

!! until you remember a video from tiktok.

You decided to try doing it with tsukki before he leaves for work. (you donot understand how this is SO cruel ?? and just as he was LEAVING)

You set your plates down on the table, tsukishima's plate with literally only this much 🤏 food.

You notice the puzzled look on his face but you continue to eat your breakfast.

He takes the only bite on his plate and starts heading out for work (mans didn't even bother asking)

Tsukishima 08:45 Are you mad at me

Tsukishima 08:45 Did I do something wrong

Tsukishima 12:31 Hey y/n im sorry :(

Tsukishima 12:52 missed call from Tsukishima.

Tsukishima 15:22 i'm getting off of work do you want anything?

Tsukishima 16:40 Please open the door

He comes home with your favourite comfort food and a new game he thought you'd like :(

SHOWER HIM WITH KISSES PLEASE I BEG

[carnalpleasure]

Michael x Angel!Reader 👼

hi!! i’ve had this idea in my head for months and finally felt inspired to start it tonight. i’m still working on my other two fics.. but Michael’s been calling to me lately💕

Summary: The reader assigns herself to be Michael’s guardian angel. This takes place at the beginning of Sojourn, with Michael in the wilderness. But takes a slightly different turn <3

Every human being in the history of humanity had been born with a guardian angel. The precious moment a newborn baby breathes its first breath of life, an angel is assigned to be their lifelong guardian. The angel’s main mission being to protect their human ward from the dark forces that had plagued the earth for all eternity. Ever since the serpent seduced Eve into her first bite of the knowledge of Good and Evil.

But that streak was broken one day in late March of 2012, when Vivian Harmon gave birth to Satan’s only begotten son.

She was the Anti-Mary. Instead of a blessed virgin being touched by an angel, she was a victim of a demonic sexual assault. She died giving birth to the Antichrist.

Michael Langdon was Satan’s very first creation. Because he was not a child of God, he was not born with a guardian angel. His father didn’t bother to assign him a guardian demon either. The spawn of Satan was left in the hands of none other than his grandmother Constance, whom his father felt was perfect for raising the little monster.

When Michael outgrew her, his father introduced him to Anton Lavey, one of his most trusted followers, who would then introduce Michael as the heir to the Church of Satan.

Michael, however, didn’t really take to Anton. He felt much closer to another key member of the church, Miriam Mead. She took a liking to the boy too and lovingly welcomed him into her home, where she taught him all about rituals, prayers, Black Mass, satanic prophecy.. She was preparing him for the apocalypse. His destiny, as they’d all say.

Once Michael began becoming aware of his powers, his father then led him into the hands of the Warlocks. They thought they were training him to be their next Supreme, but he only needed them to show him how to use his powers. They were disposable beyond that.

Michael was a loyal son, never questioning his father’s decisions, until his beloved Ms. Mead was permanently taken from him by the witches. Cordelia was right, why did he let this happen?

In search of answers, Michael fled to the wilderness on a quest. Jesus had spent 40 days out in the desert being tempted by Satan himself before his own Father finally spoke to him. Michael decided he had to do the same.

That’s when he wandered out into the forest on the outskirts of LA and started to trace a pentagram in the dirt, tired and out of options.

“I’m not going any further,” he sulked, dragging the jagged stone across the ground. “Father, tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he pleaded, out of breath as he finished carving his sigil into the soil.

“I’m not leaving this circle until you talk to me,” he pouted stubbornly. “They’re gone.. the warlocks.. my Ms. Mead. Burned alive at the stake by the witches. Until nothing was left but ash and smoke,” his voice was breaking but he was too exhausted to cry.

“You tell me what to do,” he sighed, “or you let me die here.” Then he fell to his knees in the center of the circle and waited for a sign.

He watched the sun set and rise four times before he finally had a vision. But even then, he couldn’t be sure if he was seeing a sign or just suffering from severe dehydration.

He saw a little boy offering a cold grape Fanta, and a little girl holding a basket of red apples, and he thought maybe God was trying to tempt him into the light now. To distract him from his mission and derail him from his destiny.

He refused, “No, I’m on a mission. I have to talk to my father,” he said weakly. “Leave me alone.” Then the visions turned dark. He was taunted by Ms. Mead and then praised by Anton Lavey.

“You’re not real. None of this is.. re-real.” He shook his head and raised his hand to shield his face from the blinding light that was radiating from the High Priest before him.

“You’ve done a great job.” The Satanist proudly smiled. “No..” Michael protested, “I failed. I-I’m lost. I don’t understand my purpose,” he was out of breath and at a loss for words. He was tired of games, all he wanted was his father’s help. Everything was spinning.

The vision of Anton continued reciting to him from the prophecy in Revelation, calling him the Alpha and the Omega. Michael couldn’t take it anymore. He made a lunge for Anton, wrapping a hand around his throat to choke him out. Only seconds later, the vision vanished altogether.

And that’s when he saw you. The last thing he remembered was an impossibly beautiful girl with big white wings and a little white dress. He fell to his knees again, in shock and exhaustion, and collapsed into her arms. He felt the warm, soft embrace of feathers, and then he fell into a much needed sleep.

When he awoke a day later, he was still pretty disoriented from the lack of food, water, and sleep. His mind was a haze. He didn’t realize where he was, he only knew that this bed was softer than anything he’d ever felt.

The blankets felt like fluffed up clouds and the pillows smelled like lavender. A cool breeze caressed his skin, and he noticed the temperature of the room was significantly cooler than anything he’d felt in a long time. That radiating heat that seemed to consume him constantly just wasn’t there.

He reached his hand out to feel along the bed. Empty. He opened his eyes, hoping to see the angel from his dreams sitting there watching over him. But the room was empty too.

He sat up in bed, clutching the sheets and looking around anxiously. The room was nice, but it wasn’t anything extreme. It was kinda charming actually, soft and cozy. It didn’t look like anyone had been living here for very long.

Michael climbed out of bed, stepping foot on the soft, plush carpet and smiling at the touch. He walked towards the bedroom door which was just barely cracked open, and stuck his head out slowly to peak outside.

You were in the kitchen, digging around in the refrigerator when you heard him come out. You twisted around, bumping the fridge door shut with your hip and then dropping everything on the counter.

“You’re up already? Are you feeling okay?” The pained look on his face made you worry. He looked exhausted still, leaning against the doorway just to hold himself up.

You rushed to his side, a little faster than humanly possible, and wrapped an arm around his waist to help him steady himself. He leaned into your embrace but winced a little at your touch. His body was sore everywhere.

He couldn’t stop staring at you. Almost glaring, looking at you like you’d just lied straight to his face. You walked him to the counter, sitting him down across from you and then running back to quickly check the stove. He didn’t take his eyes off you the whole time.

“I’m making you a breakfast feast,” you smiled at him over your shoulder. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days..”

“I’m sorry,” he interjected. “But wh-who are you? How did I get here?”

You smiled gently, passing him a plate of bacon and eggs to get him started while you finished the french toast. “I’m Y/N, I brought you here,” you said happily.

He kept looking you up and down. You looked exactly like he remembered, but you were now missing one unique, defining feature..

“Are you-“ he couldn’t bring himself to say the word out loud. It didn’t seem possible to him. “You had.. wings before,” his brow furrowed in confusion and his glare returned.

You simply nodded, glancing over at him and frying a piece of toast in the pan. “You remembered,” you said with a smile.

His confusion only grew. You poured him a glass of milk and then slid the fork closer to him. “Eat, please. We have plenty of time to talk later. I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” you brushed his blonde curls out of his face and the divine touch of your fingers briefly lingered on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

He hesitated, picking up his fork and taking a bite. It wasn’t just the starvation talking, he genuinely enjoyed your food. He immediately started feeling his strength and energy coming back. He felt revitalized.

It wasn’t just the food. Something about your presence was so satisfying to him. You brought him a kind of merciful peace that was only reserved for the saints. He didn’t need confirmation, he knew in his heart you were something holy. And he only hoped that you didn’t know what he truly was. If you ever fell in love with him, it would be your fall from grace.

“You’re an angel,” he whispered softly. His heart was pounding. He felt like he was committing a crime just by being in your presence. He felt like God would smite him any minute just for laying eyes on you.

You cupped his face in your hands gently, wiping away a stray tear that fell from his eyes. “As of today, I’m officially a guardian angel,” you smiled proudly. Your eyes actually twinkled, it completely captivated him.

“Guardian? Who’s guardian?” his pouty lip quivered and you could see all the new emotions swirling around him like a hurricane. He couldn’t believe any of this was really happening. He thought he must’ve been dreaming. He wasn’t dead, he knew that. He was destined for hell and there’s no one like her down there.

He was so cute. “Yours, duh” you giggled, letting go of his face and playfully tousling his blonde locks. He looked up at you with a small smirk that spread into a big smile. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. “How?-“ he silently mouthed as the words he was looking for escaped him.

“You didn’t have one,” you shrugged. “So I.. guess you could say I volunteered.” You didn’t want to overwhelm him with too many details, but the adorable confused puppy look on his face was begging for answers. “Volunteered?” he repeated, cocking his head to the side curiously. He wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“I just thought you should have someone looking out for you too.. you know. You didn’t deserve to be abandoned. Not by God or anyone.” You said it with such sincerity, he could see it on your face how strongly you felt about those words.

His eyes started to overflow with tears but he couldn’t help but smile. It was the single kindest thing anyone had ever said to him. That’s when it hit him. You already knew what he was. You knew who he was. And you were willing to go against both God’s will and Satan’s to take over as his protector. You left heaven just for him.

He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and quietly sobbing into your chest. Tears of pure joy and gratitude. Little “thank yous” whispered on repeat against your skin, so close you can feel his lips brushing across your collarbones with each word.

He snaked his arms around your waist tighter and tighter, pulling you as close to him as physics would allow. It melted your heart how close he wanted to be to you.

“Aw.. you just want to be held,” you giggled, putting your arms around his shoulders and hugging his body closer to yours. “I’m here, Michael. I’ve got you now. You’re safe, you’re mine,” you cooed, your lips brushing against his temple.

His eyes were closed and his face was pressed against your chest, all he heard was a swift whoosh as your wings suddenly appeared, folding around both of your bodies like a soft shield tucking him into you. He’d never felt so safe before, all nestled in your feathers.

He peaked his eyes open to look around at them. “That’s fucking awesome,” he muttered softly, his jaw dropping as his eyes shot up to meet yours. You smiled down at him, kissing his forehead. You couldn’t help but giggle. He made you feel giddy, the way he looked at you. Like you were made of magic.

“My own guardian angel,” he said quietly to himself, still in awe of it all. He refused to let go of you for the rest of the day after that. All he wanted to do was lie in your arms. Feel your embrace. And you were happy to oblige because he needed to rest anyway. The two of you returned to your bed where he spent the rest of the night on your chest, fast asleep in your arms. The safest place he could ever be.

💕taglist: @sexwon131 @jimmason @whatcodysaid @angelicmichael @thewarriorprincessxo

[a-sirens-melody]

Darkwing Duck’s Greatest Enemy: Type 1 Diabetes (And Definitely Not Self Loathing)

Quick author's note: Launchpad switches between he/they throughout the fic, just so no one gets confused! If you have any questions abt diabetes, feel free to ask me. With that said, enjoy!

***

So far, tonight has gone really well.

It's date night, and this time they're spending it eating takeout from Hamburger Hippo and watching Darkwing Duck at Launchpad's place. Wrappers lay on the floor, ignored in favor of watching Darkwing kick Megavolt’s ass on screen.

Drake is currently leaning into Launchpad's side on the couch, his partner’s arm wrapped around his waist. It all feels so cozy and domestic that he never wants it to end.

And then, because Drake must have seriously pissed off some powerful being in a past life, it happens.

Megavolt’s face becomes blurry, and it's a little harder to focus on the TV. A quick look around the room tells him that, actually, it's hard to focus on anything right now. He knows what this means; he's gotten better at picking up on the signs after twenty-eight years of living with a half-functioning pancreas.

His blood sugar’s starting to drop.

He tries to close his eyes and listen instead, but the shake of his hands quickly corrects him. He is dropping and he needs to find something to eat. Even though he just ate, like, an hour ago.

Dammit.

“Drake?”

He opens his eyes and notices that the episode is paused. He hadn't even realized, he was so caught up in his symptoms. The second thing he notices is Launchpad looking right at him.

He guesses that they felt his shaking because there's concern in their eyes now. A brief wave of guilt sweeps over him and he almost misses their question. “Is your blood sugar low?”

He finds it's a little hard to form words right now (and that scares him, it always does), so he nods his head slightly and hums.

“I'm gonna go get you a juice box.”

The arm wrapped around him vanishes as LP gets up. He helps him lay down on the couch, head pillowed on the armrest. He's still cold without his boyfriend, though, so Drake can't help the small whine that escapes him. God, he sounds pathetic.

Launchpad's eyes soften and they lean down to kiss his forehead. “I'll be right back, okay?”

A little embarrassed, Drake nods and watches the other duck head to his fridge. He closes his eyes again and almost sighs in relief as he's met with darkness. You can't lose your focus if there's nothing to focus on in the first place.

Did that even make sense? Whatever. His brain’s not working properly right now.

The sounds of his partner rummaging through the shelves fill the air. Drake is reminded of earlier when things felt so domestic between them. It's only been a couple of months since they started dating, but Launchpad already feels like the home he never had.

Drake doesn't know how he got so lucky; sometimes it all feels like a dream.

Launchpad leaving is his worst nightmare. He knows he's being a little dramatic, but his anxiety gets the better of him sometimes. He's too much, too expensive, too-

“Found it!” Footsteps pull Drake out of his thoughts and he cracks his eyes open. Launchpad already tore off the wrapping on the plastic straw and stuck it in the box. He holds it out now and places it near Drake's beak. “Drink this, okay?”

He moves the straw into his mouth with a hum and starts sucking the juice down, only stunned for a second at the chill. Fruit punch, his mind distantly informs him. It's his favorite flavor, but he's too focused on getting it into his system to really appreciate it right now.

When the juice box is thoroughly drained, he gives his boyfriend a small smile. He feels like he can talk without sounding like he's drunk now, so he says, “thanks, LP.”

“Anytime,” is the warm reply he receives. If Drake was of sound mind, he would kiss Launchpad breathless and maybe, maybe, utter those three little words that have grown harder to ignore as of late.

I love you.

The words are barely on the tip of his tongue even now. Yikes, his filter's pretty weak already. He tries to stuff the words down by chewing on the straw. Struggling with one of the disadvantages of diabetes is not his ideal confession scenario. Besides, it's way too soon to say that. Right? Right.

“Didn't think you kept juice boxes in your fridge,” he says instead. Not only is he trying to distract himself from his low brain feelings, he's genuinely curious. He doesn't recall seeing any juice boxes in LP’s fridge the last time he was here, and their favorite flavor is apple.

“Nah. Not for myself, at least.” They smile fondly at him. “I remembered that it's your favorite flavor, though, and I wanted to have something for whenever you went low over here.”

Wait.

Launchpad bought those for him? Specifically for him? And remembered his favorite flavor from a conversation they had three months ago when they asked Drake what he usually ate when his blood sugar went low?

That's...

“That's really sweet of you, LP. Thanks.” He says, because he's not really sure what to say. It's such a small act of kindness, something he's not used to, and he doesn't know how to deal with the sudden warmth in his chest.

He's too low for this. Feeling more intense emotions is a very frequent symptom of his when he's low, that's what this is. Yeah. Definitely.

His boyfriend's smile turns shy. “You don't have to thank me. Whatever helps you the most. Speaking of which, do you want me to bring your kit over here? I mean, obviously you feel low, but. Better to have an exact number, right?” Launchpad rambles, hand reaching to brush through the hair at the back of his neck.

That's a good point, actually. He has to be in the 40’s if he's feeling this bad. “Yes, please.”

Launchpad reaches to the side of his couch where Drake's bag is. Inside is his blood sugar kit (complete with a pricker, replaceable barrels, meter, test strips, insulin, and syringes), various small snacks in case he goes low when he's out, and a glucagon. He really hopes that last item is not going to be needed tonight.

He probably shouldn't have dropped the bag there, but he wanted to start their date. Can you really blame him?

The kit is found and placed onto the couch. Drake starts to reach for it, but suddenly there's a hand covering his.

“Can I check you, please?” He looks up and finds Launchpad staring at him. “I don't- if you don't want me to touch your stuff, I get it, but. You feel bad. So will you let me do it?”

You...want to help me? You don't want me to do this on my own?

“Sure. Just ask if you dunno what goes where, okay?” Drake says, thankful that his voice is somewhat steadier than his hands.

His partner nods and gets to work. They asked once how everything in the kit worked so Drake laid it all out and taught him. It felt nice having someone who wanted to listen to him talk about diabetes stuff.

He hears the test strip bottle close with a pop and the pricker calibrate with a ca-click. Just as Launchpad asks, he holds out a finger and lets his mind drift.

It's really not something he's used to, having someone around that he trusts will take care of him. For as long as he can remember, Drake could only rely on himself to get through whatever diabetic crisis he faced.

He was eight when he was diagnosed. At first, his parents did most of the hard work. He picked up on checking his blood sugar pretty quickly, but they would manage all his carb ratios and injections.

Then, they just sort of…stopped. Like they had only done it for him in the first place because he was too young to fully understand. By the time he was thirteen, he did pretty much everything on his own. So much so that more often than not on the tri-monthly visits to his endocrinologist, the car ride would be spent drilling his parents on what the past three months had been like.

Not that they ever told him they didn't care or want to care to his face. No, Drake had just picked up on it. But the night he overheard them talking about medical expenses was a particularly rude awakening.

He couldn't sleep for some reason and decided to watch some Darkwing Duck. He barely made it out of his bedroom when he heard voices.

“Why's everything gotta be so damn expensive!?”

Ah. His dad was looking at bills. So much for a DW marathon in peace and quiet. Drake had one foot back in his bedroom when he heard his mother reply.

“It doesn't really help that our current bank account looks like that, either…”

Forget going back to bed, his curiosity was peaked. He stayed still, straining to hear.

He wished he hadn't at what he heard next.

“Yeah, well, having a defective kid ain't cheap. Why couldn't you have had a normal one?”

To this day, he still remembers how his heart sank to his stomach.

Defective.

Defective.

Is that why they stopped helping? Why, at age sixteen, it was unspoken knowledge that Drake managed everything on his own? They didn't see a literal child in need, they saw a column of dollar signs. A black hole that sucked up all their cash and never gave it back.

His mom stayed quiet, and that hurt even more. She didn't care, either. Neither one of them did.

They were both selfish assholes that only cared about the alcohol they could've had stocked in their kitchen.

He cried himself to sleep that night, mourning the days when he could still trust his parents to take care of him and wishing he didn't have to live like this. If no one wanted to help him, he’d suck it up on his own. No one wanted to take care of him? Fine. Drake Mallard didn't need anyone else. He was better off on his own.

Those horrible feelings crash over him like a tidal wave now, twenty years later, and he doesn't know why they're here but he's overwhelmed by it all.

Why can't he just have a normal body? Why does his condition have to be so expensive and annoying and miserable sometimes? Why does he have to be so dependent on people when he tells himself that he’s better off working alone, when no one in his life has loved him enough to care anyway?

There's a price tag on his head (not just physical, because diabetes is a greedy little bitch), and it's only a matter of time until Launchpad figures this out. He won't want to stay up late to keep checking, to keep buying syringes or insulin or tests strips. He won't stay forever, and it's all Drake's fault, for getting so attached and having a broken, shitty body.

“Drake? Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks. There are tears in his eyes, a few of which have spilled down his cheeks.

“Uh,” his voice cracks. He wipes away the tears with his other hand. “No. N-no, you didn't do anything wrong. What were you doing?”

Launchpad cocks his head to the side and squints in concern. He knows there's more to Drake's answer, but he doesn't push yet. “I pricked your finger and put the blood in. You didn't even flinch, but I thought that was ‘cause you're used to this. Was there another reason?”

“I'm sorry.” And before Launchpad can start to ask for what? with his mouth already open, Drake rushes to say, “I'm sorry that out of all the people you could date, you got stuck with a chronically ill mess like me. You deserve a normal partner, and god you have no idea how badly I wish I was, but I'm not. I'll always be a burden and I know you won't want to stick around to deal with all the shit that comes with diabetes.

“Not that I don't want you to stay, please don't think that, but…” More tears fall and he brushes them aside, accidentally smearing blood on his feathers. “I’m not used to someone wanting to take care of me, and I don't want it to stop.”

He doesn't take his eyes off of Launchpad as he cries. If this were a cartoon, he would laugh at how quickly their expression changes. Confusion, concern, and realization flash across their face before their eyes soften again in concern.

“Baby,” they say, reaching out to cradle Drake's face. They gently wipe away the blood with their thumb, and Drake feels weak. Loving touches were something he was never given as a child, and it's taken some getting used to. It burns, unfamiliar and wonderful, every time Launchpad touches him. All he can do in this moment is lean into it and shut his eyes.

“Look at me, please?” He groans internally as he opens his eyes. Later, when his blood sugar isn't so low and he can properly think, he’ll recall the look on his boyfriend's face as determined. “I love you, so much. You're not a burden, and you never will be. Being with you is a new experience, sure, but it's a good one. It's not your fault your body's like this, and it doesn't make you any less amazing.

“Heck, if anything, it makes you even more so. You have to do more to stay healthy than most people, and you're really good at it! St. Canard is a better place with Darkwing Duck and Drake Mallard.” Launchpad leans in to kiss his forehead. “They were wrong, you're not unlovable.”

He's so gentle, so sweet, and it's all too much for Drake to wrap his mind around. Never mind the low, he's just heard what he's secretly always wanted to. He is good. He is loved. He...needs to know what his blood sugar actually was before he cries an entire ocean. One more thing, though.

“Uh,” seems like a good place to start as he scrambles to pick up the pieces of himself. He takes a shaky breath. “Thank you. Sorry I dumped all of that onto you, I don't know where it came from tonight, but. Thanks. I really needed that.”

LP still looks a little sad and it makes his heart hurt, but he bites down on his beak to avoid apologizing again. “No problem. Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere.” He strokes his cheek some more, and Drake sighs.

“This is nice and all, but,” his eyes dart to the meter still sitting in front of him. They got distracted for too long and now the little screen is dark. “Did you catch the number that showed up?”

“Buh?” Launchpad's eyes widen as he remembers what they were doing before. “Oh, dang it! Sorry! Do I need to do it again, or-”

Eh, they probably should, but Drake doesn't want to. It hasn't been too long anyways, maybe five minutes? He’ll be fine. “No, you're good, just press the button with the arrows. All the pricks get stored so you can look at them later.”

Any distress on their face is quickly replaced by a beaming smile. “Neat!” They do as Drake asked, and a number pops up: 46.

“Lovely,” Drake groans. “And I just ate. Maybe I just took too much insulin. Or am I getting sick? If I can't keep anything down in the next hour, I swear-”

LP snapping his fingers in his face pulls him away from his rambling. “Hello? Earth to Drake Mallard. I dunno what made you low, but we gotta fix it first. Would more juice work?”

Oh yeah. Hm, more juice or something else? Even though he feels exhausted, going to sleep is a bad idea. He's gotta stay up until he's back in range, so…

“Actually, do you have any Pep?” Launchpad tilts his head and furrows his brow as Drake explains. “Normally I wouldn't ask, but I think something with that much sugar would really help. Plus, the caffeine will keep me awake.”

They look less confused now, but their head remains tilted slightly. “There's not that much caffeine in Pep, though.”

“You forget I don't drink the regular Peps nearly as often as you do, LP.” The last time he actually had one was...ten years ago? They work great for treating a low quickly and that's the only time he ever cares to drink them. It's not worth the extra insulin or highs to try to look normal.

“Oh yeah! So you're not used to the sugar.” He nods. “Okay, be right back.” Launchpad takes about twenty seconds to get a Pep and come back to Drake. The tab's already open. “Uh, do you need to drink the whole thing right now?”

He really shouldn't, the juice is probably still processing. Still, it's very tempting to chug the entire thing just to put more sugar in his body. But he wants his blood sugar to be normal, not sky high. “No, I'll probably drink half of it right now. Thank you.” He takes the Pep and sips, blinking at the sheer amount of sugar flooding his taste buds.

The fact that most people drink enough of this stuff to where they hardly notice it boggles his mind. Not that the diet stuff is really healthier, but it's definitely a different taste.

Guess he's pulling a graveyard shift tonight. But at least he's with Launchpad.

(That's the other thing about drinking regular sodas; he gets really hyper. Last time, he couldn't fall asleep until exactly two am. Being tired but unable to sleep is the absolute worst feeling, and you can't change Drake's mind.)

Now that he can think a little more clearly, he realizes something.

“I can't drive like this,” he says. Driving with a low blood sugar is really dangerous, and not his usual kind. It's the kind of dangerous that could get himself, or someone else, or even both, killed. “And I'm definitely not walking home anytime soon, so. Guess our date’s been extended?”

Launchpad blinks at him, then claps his hands together and grins. “You're staying overnight! I mean, I wish it was under better circumstances, obviously, but. Yay!” He rocks on his heels before catching himself and looking away, a faint blush appearing on his face. “Anyways, is there anything else you need?”

Drake's about to reply not right now, thank you, but then he realizes something that's actually pretty important.

“Wait, since I'm staying here tonight, could I use your bathroom really quick? I, uh, need to take my binder off,” he admits. He’d forgotten it was even there until he remembered wait, you need to take that off before you go to sleep. He put it on about a half hour after he woke up, which was at noon, and it's midnight now so...oops. It's past time to take it off.

His boyfriend nods. “Yeah, no worries! Do what you gotta do. Wait.” His brow furrows. “You need me to help you over there?”

“I,” he falters. “Wouldn't mind it if you did.” The sugar's kicking in now, but he still doesn't trust himself. Given how clumsy he is? Better safe than sorry.

Launchpad holds his arms as he walks to the bathroom. He closes the door, Launchpad sitting in front of it just in case, and turns to the mirror. His shirt hits the floor, soon followed by his binder. A sigh of relief fills the air as he folds it. He hadn't realized how long he'd been wearing it. Tomorrow will have to be a skip day just to stay on the safe side.

(Hormones aren't a concern; he's not on them right now and is perfectly fine with that. The cost of that and insulin would be hard to juggle, anyways.)

He opens the door to find Launchpad staring at him, and he smiles shyly. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Launchpad smiles back, and holds out his hand. Drake takes it and pulls his boyfriend to his feet. They walk back to the couch together. “So, what are we doing? You can't go to sleep until your blood sugar's back up and we were in the middle of an episode of Darkwing Duck.”

“I like the way you think,” Drake teases. “So long as you check every now and then to make sure I haven't fallen asleep yet.” He sits down in his original spot.

“Whatever you need,” they reply, and sit down next to him. They wrap their around his waist and Drake leans into their side as he tries to find the remote. It occurs to him just then that there's still something he hasn't said yet. Something bigger than “thank you.”

He taps LP on the shoulder. They turn to look at him and oh no, he's already flustered. “I just. You said you, uh, loved me earlier and I wanted to say that, that I love you too.” His face is burning, and he got quieter at the end, but at least it’s out in the open now.

Launchpad’s eyes soften and he tilts his head close enough to kiss Drake. It's a quick peck, but sweet nonetheless. When he pulls away, he's smiling. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

Drake only blushes more and buries his face in Launchpad's chest. He can feel Launchpad chuckle and oh. Oh, that's really nice. He likes that a lot. He would stay right here, but the sounds of the Darkwing Duck episode are a siren song that never fails to lure him in.

They stay there, watching episode after episode and Launchpad checking in every so often. By the time Drake's blood sugar has gone back to normal, he stops watching and starts really thinking about the events of the night.

He doesn't have to do this on his own anymore. Someone actually wants to take care of him now.

He is loved. Really, truly loved. And he’ll never let Launchpad go.

[scratchbandicoot]

Based on this lovely lil thing

He swears on all the comedy shows he’s ever watched, this would be the exact moment where things would freeze frame, record scratch, and insert corny line, like, “Hi, I’m Steve, you’re probably wondering how i got here-“

And normally, in a situation like this one, it wouldn’t at all be the case. Baking is like, a seriously mundane thing a lot of people do. Mostly housewives, grandmas or kids with their parents but it just so happens that Steve is the one doing the baking right now- and it should have gone without a hitch. So, 20 minutes of digging into the cabinets of his mom’s cook books- he began. He wanted it to be good, not a cop out box of mix because making it from scratch makes it more special. And it’s a fucking cake; how hard could it really be?

Apparently super fucking hard actually. Because what should have been a completely mundane, simple task that takes like 40 minutes tops- Steve was left with this. Referring to the absolute disaster that is his kitchen. There’s like, 8 eggshells scattered all over the countertop- one somehow ending up on the floor and another on his knee. There is a spilling bag of sugar on its side creating a hectic little pile that leaks onto the stove top- (Thank god for his parents expensive ass glass-top stoves.) Somehow he managed to spill olive oil around the sink when the recipe doesn’t even call for it- and to top it all off there is flour covering every inch of the kitchen and himself. The apron he has on does absolutely nothing, the powder covering his pastel blue cashmere button up- and he’s sure he somehow managed to get flour on places where the sun don’t shine. He’s three hours 45 minutes deep at this point and he knows he’s literally about to cry. He can feel his eyes burning with frustration and a huge lump tightening his throat with the threat of unshed tears. How did he get to this point? Well, lets backtrack.

It’s Billy’s birthday tomorrow . Steve has always done something special on Billy’s birthdays- even though he is like, super weird about gifts and being given things. Seriously, last time Steve gave Billy just a dumb little birthday card with snoopy dancing, and text that read ‘a big-smiling, fun-having, great-feeling birthday’- his nose srunched up like he had to sneeze and he gave the most awkward thanks followed by a back pat that- felt so absolutely “hiya pal” that Steve cackled out loud to the point he was in tears. Billy just burned red and sputtered all irritated, “Stop fucking laughing, Harrington.” Guy just cannot handle shows of affection.

This though, was a little more special. A little more personal than a rinky-dink peanuts birthday card- because billy really loved confetti cake. It brought back memories of his mom; how they used to bake the cake together on his younger birthdays, and how much he really missed it. Nothing could really beat the warmth of those memories, or the fondness painting Billy’s face when he recalled them- but goddamit- steve was gonna try, was trying, his actual best. He even convinced Keith that he’d take his next Saturday shift if he let him off the hook today to do this. His nonna had baked with him when he was young-like, 6- so he figured he’d pick it back up. Which was so not the case here. It’s safe to say he is more than a little rusty. So rusty in fact, that his old bike that he got for his 12th birthday that sits in the garage decaying and untouched, had absolutely nothing on him right now.

The first try was peppy; with a shimmy of hips and a waving whisk to the song playing from the sound system in the living room, and Steve thought genuinely that he did it right. He might have, maybe, with the recipe, but the lump of coal that was pulled out of the oven indicated heavily to the opposite. The smoke in the kitchen made Steve cough and gag, having to open up all the windows along with the screen door. The second attempt was a different outcome. Terrible, but different. A cake with singed edges and a liquidy inside that stuck to the pan and got scraped out with an uncermonious plop into the garbage. Mush, really, something akin to the texture of apple sauce. The third attempt Steve really focused, he swears, but that just ended up with a cake that didnt even rise and he was back to square 1 before he knew it with a beautifully new sense of defeat.

So, before he had an actual mental break over a goddamn cake he knew 7 year olds could make better, he called up Ms. Henderson for help. The lady is practically a god when it comes to baking and he really does not know how she does it. Whips out cookies and tarts and cupcakes like it’s going out of style.

“Hmm...oh! Sweetie, I think it might be the cornstarch. It sinks to the bottom of the pan if you don’t add baking soda- did you add baking soda?”

Steve glances at the forgotten unopened box of baking soda leaned against the stoves backsplash. He slaps himself mentally.

“Um, no. No i did not do that.”

“Well then, that’s it! You simply forgot a key ingredient is all. Not a big deal in the slightest.” Ms. Henderson was always very sweet to steve. Maybe because Dustin had become a little brother to him, but she never ever made him feel dumb. Always assured him mistakes are simply human.

“Right, right, yeah. I’ll add that. Thank you Ms. Henderson.” Steve goes to run a hand through his hair but is met with the headband pulling Steve’s hair from his eyes.

“Its Claudia sweetie, you know that.” Steve could hear the smile in her voice. She makes him feel better.

She gave a few more tips, how just white sugar might dry out the cake when used too much and using brown sugar will make the cake’s texture fluffier. He thanks her and hangs up with a sigh. Back to work.

He follows each step meticulously, following Claudia’s directions to a T and slips it into the oven; prays to god that this will be the last time he tries this. He’s only got one egg left and the overly sweet assortment of smells is starting to make him nauseous. After 45 excruciating minutes, Steve huffs and pulls out the cake. It looks... actually it looks like a cake. He smiles crookedly- holding his breath as he slips the cake onto the tray. It comes out in one piece, albeit lopsided, Steve whoops. He finally fucking did it- the cake actually looks like a confetti cake- and Steve is just so fucking proud of it, already going in to make the frosting before theres a ring at the door.

He frowns, wiping the flour on his watch head. It’s midnight- 12:07 am. Jesus christ, he started this at 7 pm, he didn’t even realize-

He hurries up to the door trying to wipe off the flour and make himself semi presentable. The door swings open and it’s Billy. He’s holding a six pack of Natural Light and a smirk that warps into a surprised raise of his eyebrows at Steve’s current state. He’s sure he must like he just ran a drug cartel or something.

“Hi, pretty boy.” Billy says as he walks in, checking Steve up and down. “Whats uh, whats up with your threads? Look like you jumped head first into coke or got real personal with Frosty the Snowman”

Stve rolls his eyes. His breath catches when he sees Billy start walking to the kitchen. He runs and blocks Billy in the doorway.

“You can’t go in there.”

Billy frowns, “What, you actually got drugs in there or somethin’?”

“No- you just- you can’t go in there. Not allowed.”

“Cmon baby whatcha got in there?” Billy starts to nudge past him; never was good at waiting.

“Wait, no- Billy- don’t-“

Billy takes in the state of the kitchen with a confused look and low whistle before his eyes land on the unfrosted confetti cake sitting on the kitchen island in all it’s lopsided glory. He freezes.

Steve waddles up behind him; following his gaze as he chews on his lip.

“I’m sorry, didn’t have time to make the frosting. Wanted it to be a surprise.” Steve scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly.

Billy’s still just standing there, and for a moment Steve is afraid he overstepped. That he was hijacking a moment from Billy’s mom that was only okay to do if she did it. He tries to get a read on Billy from his side profile since Billy is only turned slightly towards him but he can’t. A few more seconds of Billy standing there- and what Steve hopes is stunned silence- before Billy quietly murmurs,

“You made me a confetti cake?”

Steve holds his breath after a strained little, “Yeah.” The unshed tears from earlier are threatening to fall again, “You said you loved confetti cake, and that it made you happy. Wanted to make you happy.”

Billy spins on his heel fast, catching Steve’s face in his hands and lips with his own. Steve’s heart bursts and jerks a little with the surprise. It’s a chaste thing, just a press of lips, before Billy pulls away.

“You’re so... you just...” Billy trailed off and it was, like, a huge thing for Steve in that moment. Billy? Speechless? Steve never thought he’d see the day. It makes his face heat but his heart full and he beams.

“I’m... what?” He draws out.

“Fuckin’- somethin’. You’re somethin’ else.” Billy tugs him in by the waist and uses the other hand to swipe at the flour on Steve’s cheek. He looks so goddamn fond it makes Steve’s heart rate skyrocket.

“Is it okay?”

Billy hums, “It’s so okay. So much better than okay.”

He presses sweet little kisses to Steve’s lips and Steve can’t stop smiling.

“Well,” he says between pecks, “I wanted to do something special.”

Billy hums again, kisses trailing pepper like to his cheeks, his forehead, his nose and now down his neck.

Steve fights down the urge to shiver as he wraps his arms around the other’s shoulders. But-then he feels a wetness at the crook of his neck and makes a soft concerned noise at the back off his throat. He tugs Billy gently off and is met with blue, glassy eyes. Billy was tearing up.

“Thank you.” Billy says wetly, gently, before hugging Steve tight. “God- i- thank you.”

Steve smiles sweetly, hands going into Billy’s hair. He doesn’t ask because he doesn’t need to. Knows that this is Billy being happy, knows that this isn’t bad, knows Billy. Loves Billy.

Steve pokes Billy’s sides- grins, “Happy birthday, baby.” And punctuates it with a kiss.

[naturalswifty89]

my sweet girl, don’t leave. Klaus Hargreeves x Femreader

i really hope this is what you wanted @lexxxistrips​ thank you for the request, i had fun writing it! 

warnings: mentions of rehab and addictions. 

words: 1110 

You and your boyfriend Klaus have been together for a long while now almost over 5 years. You and he have a child, she’s about 9 months old now, and her name is (y/b/n). She has his eyes, and your nose. Her hair is just starting to curl like her father’s. Your sweet little girl still loves to play peek-a-boo, and is just as rowdy as Klaus. She adores Elton John, clapping her little hands every time you would play an album of his. 

Yup definitely your and Klaus’ child. 

The only problem in your lives is Klaus’ addictions. You understood why he did it, but he has a child now. He’s still rotating in and out of rehab. It’s beginning to feel like you’re in this all alone, and you were starting to get frustrated. You were hurt honestly.. Scared not knowing if he would come back the next time he leaves. 

You were sitting in the rocking chair by the window, letting the sunlight in. Your sweet girl cradled in your arms. Her long eyelashes flutter against your skin softly. (y/b/n) was fast asleep, your eyelids began to droop. That is, until you hear the door open and a heavy sigh in the entry hall of your apartment

. “I’m home girls did you miss me?!” Klaus exclaims while entering the room. 

Almost immediately the girl you held began to stir and cry. Klaus didn’t get a response from you but he heard his baby girl begin to cry. Trying hard to shush her cries, you let out a heavy sigh hearing footsteps behind you. Turning around to face K;aus you had no smile on your face unlike every other time when he came home to open arms and his beautiful girls. 

“Klaus, shush, you woke her up.” you stated. Continuing to rock your baby whispering to her softly. “I’m sorry (y/n), I didn’t mean to. Now how are you girls today?” his voice was much quieter. He reached out to you gently grabbing his daughter's hand attempting to calm her once again. 

Immediately the girls cries settle into small giggles at the sight of her father. 

He laughed as well, before reaching into his pocket to pull show you how long he had been sober. 40 days babe, a new record huh?” he asks jokingly. 

“Klaus.. No, I just can't do this anymore. You’re in and out of rehab all of the time. I truly love you Klaus. We both do.. But you can’t keep this up.” your voice was stern but it mostly sounded so worn out. 

Klaus’ eyes widened. “I know (y/n), i know I love you too, I swear. What are you saying though? What’s going on?” Klaus’ voice is now slightly panicked. He once again reached out to you placing his hand on your shoulder and one on (y/b/n)’s arm gently tracing circles to stay calm. Tears welled in your eyes. “Klaus.. We’re leaving, I can't just sit here day after day wondering if our daughters father will even come home. I-I just can’t do it anymore.” your voice broke. Quickly you took a step back and placed your baby in her crib, seeing as she finally fell asleep. You began to pack your things while Klaus followed you. His eyes were streaming now, as were yours. “No, baby please… please don’t leave me.. Don’t take my baby girl away from me. Don’t take yourself away from me.. Please. I need you, I need you so damn much.” he pleaded, but your mind was made up..Or so you thought. “Klaus, You’re never home. She can’t grow up like this, without her father around because he’s going to get high. Or trying to get sober. You’re always in between.” Your voice shook slightly as your bottom lip quivered. Staring into his beautiful green orbs, remembering all the reasons you fell in love with him. His smile, his candy apple eyes, his gorgeous curls that you’d always tug on when he kissed you. Most of all, his willingness to love you to no end no matter if he was a million miles away,or across the couch. His eyes were broken, and scared. Then again so were you. You needed to think of your baby before anyone else. “No, This time, this time i promise ill get sober. I’ll be here whenever you need me. I’ll be right by your side. I’ll clean up, I just.. Please don’t leave me (y/n). I won’t be able to breathe without (y/b/n) or you. I just, I need to get help. I promise I will. I want to be able to see our baby girl's first day at school, her prom, her graduation. Be her comfort during her first breakup, be the embarrassing dad when she brings her boyfriend/ girlfriend to meet us. I want to walk my sweet girl down the Aisle and give her away no matter how hard that will be.” Your tears were flowing down your now rosy cheeks. This is the Klaus you fell in love with. A sweet, kind, and loving man. Did he have problems? Yes.but does that mean you don’t love him? Of course not. A sob escaped your quivering lips, He was back. Your Klaus. The father of your daughter. The only man you want to grow old with, the only one you want to be a grandparent with. “I’ll stay.. Klaus.. I’m staying, but you have to promise you’ll put our little girl first. Always.” His face lit up despite the snot and tears running down. “I will forever, I swear it.” he pulled your body into his, holding you as tightly as he could.  Pulling back you wipe his tears and kiss him. Your hands tugging at his hair softly. Then (y/b/n) let out a cry, and you pulled away to go get her. Klaus stopped you “I’m doing this ok, you’ve done everything. It’s my turn.” he says pecking your lips gently before walking away. Following him, you watched as he picked her up. 

“Hey sweetheart it’s daddy, he’s here to take care of you.” his vice was soft as he nuzzled her nose with his and she giggled. His eyes lit up at the noise and repeated his action. 

She grabbed her father's fur coat, and tugged on it gently. “Do you like my coat sweet girl? Oh of course you do. Everyone likes it.” he smiled at her, a genuine smile. 

Now this is a sight you could get used to. 

[cloveroctobers]

ROCCO MACBRADY —

IG info/bio : @/macbradycoeats | 77.1k followers | just a spiritual being that wishes the best for everyone on their journey 🙏🏼 yes i was on tv once & won’t be again, you may now check the vibe🥬🌱

21 (22)

From Belfast, Northern Ireland

I genuinely believe Rocco didn’t come from much, just like Gary. & it’s never a competition between who’s had it harder in life, cause we all got our own shit, but I don’t think his life was all rainbows and glitter you know? Just don’t get that vibe from him

Maybe he’s lived in a mobile home park and his mom can never hold a job since she’s a hot head & can’t take direction? His father comes in and out of his life, he’s the definition of toxic masculinity yet never does shit to prove his worth of a “man.” goes as he pleases drunk off his ass and stealing whatever $ his mom has saved up

His father used to be a truck driver but got fired after he kept drinking on the job, causing an accident that could have been much worse

They’re one of the few families that aren’t okay in the park. They just happen to be the loudest. At least his parents are, very vocal and try to beat the other in a screaming match. They never married, didn’t see the point in doing so since they stuck around with each other for this long

Very abusive relationship...mostly verbal but rocco’s seen enough to cause trauma

Maybe his parents had him at a young age, cancelling their youth? Sometimes he feels like it’s his fault, his father told him that once; drunk of whiskey so he started to believe it, which pissed his mother off to no end

Rocco knows his mother loves him but he’s not so sure about his dad. She does little things that mean so much to show that, she does try hard it’s just many don’t see that. Maybe he’s bias since it is his mother

Has a half-sister, Roisin. (Ro-sheen) means, “little rose,” and he picked the name out when he watched his mother have a home birth in their bathroom. He loved her just as much as he loved his mother. He’s heard of the name before, liked it and knew it fit when he first saw his little sister. She was the reddest baby he’s ever seen but gorgeous

“You’ve named your sister raisin, huh?”

It didn’t take long for Rocco to figure out that his mother had a boyfriend outside of his father and suddenly had a bump in her stomach a month later after the guy came around. Rocco wanted to hate the guy but he kinda taught him how to be. He was from wales, loved to surf, and always carried philosophy books which he encouraged a young Rocco to read and, “expand his horizons”

At first he didn’t understand the shite or even wanted to. He just knew it would be hell whenever his father decided to pop back up, but this time around? He didn’t for some reason. “I hope he’s dead.” He heard his mother say one night, talking to Elis, when she thought Rocco was asleep on his bed in the living room

Rocco didn’t think he could think that harsh about someone...but the longer Elis stayed around, the more he found himself not missing his father

Before he began to look at life in a different way, he was the type to run through the streets from the age of 16 and getting into some trouble

Such as: Vandalism, stealing booze, trespassing, & public indency

Around 18 was when he decided to turn his life around, after losing a friend he deeply cared about. He went off to uni, because it was what she wanted to do and he never gave it much thought in the first place but he tried for her

Looking back on it, why did he ever think finance was for him? He wanted to be what his mother wasn’t, she tried but she didn’t know how to manage $ well. Elis had to step in every now and then but he was also always on the go due to surfing competitions

Not only that but it was hard to make friends in uni, people were much different here than in the mobile park. He had more in common with people who lived in the same atmosphere as him

He felt judged and it made him deeply insecure so he dropped out mid-semester 

Picked up healthy cooking habits and managed to purchase a food truck after working multiple jobs/ odd jobs from dish cleaner, bartender, doing weekly grocery runs for the people with disabilities in the mobile park, etc...

Guilty pleasure is Mediterranean food

Helps his mother with his sister when she’s out looking for a job + working the job or when she needs a nap. It’s the perfect bonding moment between brother and sister

It doesn’t take long before Rocco feels it’s his time to leave & he does so by going on tv for this show called love island, which is short lived & he comes back empty handed + still feeling like he didn’t make any friends but he met people that changed his life for sure

Marisol being one of those people.

His food truck gains traction after the show and he’s pleased by this. He specializes in a go green environment, which is more expensive but everything costs something

A customer tells him he’d be better off traveling to gain more exposure to his food, although there’s been customers who post his food on the socials—he rarely checks it but it’s 40% negative

Once he saves up enough, he does so and wants for his mother and sister to come with him but she says his sister is too young to be on the road

He’s torn but decides to go on a three month tour, with a few people trying to manage him. Rocco doesn’t take the offer, he feels like that’s a trap to take all of his $.

He can do it all on his own

He meets more people and women on the road in different cities and keeps up with Marisol whenever he can, it kinda hurts to know that she’s found someone knew

So when he’s on psychedelics, he starts sleeping around when the loneliness tries to creep up on him. He doesn’t want to feel that, because if you let it be then it might control you. You’re in control of your emotions.

He always has to find a pay phone when he gets to the next city to let his mom, sister, and Elis know that business is doing okay and he is too. He either forgets to charge his phone or one of the women he invited into his truck stole it

Yeah his food truck is also his home? But people don’t need to know that, he plans to get rid of the truck, buy a storage container to be his new restaurant on wheels and invest in a car where he can pull the storage container along on his car, he’s thinking maybe a Subaru or a pick up truck of some sort. These are all goals, he’ll achieve if he works at his own pace. If it’s meant to be it will be 

Very flirtatious and it can come across as not being loyal but he finds it to be more, “free spirited” than anything

Does yoga, has a bicycle too for days he doesn’t feel like driving his truck around, Elis bought one for his birthday & is studying Buddhism

Plays the ukulele & wants to start a garden

Is he a Scorpio? Is he a Gemini? I don’t really feel like he’s a fire sign? He might have a small amount in his chart if we’re being technical. The only thing I can see, Leo maybe for being idealistic? Flirtatious & optimistic?

Scorpio sun + Leo moon + Gemini rising

His favorite animal is an ostrich?

Lottie accidentally likes his photos (whenever he decides to post) and unlikes them or pops into his lives every now and then just out of curiosity. When he addresses her, she leaves lmao

Hair and eyes shifts just like the seasons, becoming reddish brown + a hazel green

Stops at every farmers markets & side attractions to give back to the people & loves flea markets

What does Rocco listen to? He definitely uses psychedelics & smokes that gas c’mon now so: bob marley & the wailers, Jimi Hendrix, fugees, Fiona apple, Norah Jones, johnnyswim, & Bombay bicycle club

Celeb crush? Emma Roberts, zendaya, halle bailey, camila mendes, Sarah Bolger, & Saoirse Ronan

Anthem = The wombats, “Give Me A Try”

[beautifulbuckys]

Cleaning week

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N

A/N: This is for the wonderful @stanclub‘s 3k celebration! Congrats to Amanda, she deserves it!

With every movement of your arms, the sweater covering your torso grew itchier. The olive green dyed wool rubbed upon your arm, causing red patches to litter your arms. Despite the uncomfortable factors of your sweater, you loved it. The crisp fall air ventilated the heavy sweater. It was warm, yet cool simultaneously. The sweater's color was unique, and fun to wear. The best part about it, however, was that it was a Christmas gift from Bucky.

Your boyfriend was currently inside washing the dishes from your breakfast. You could still taste the lingering cinnamon on your tongue. From where you were standing, it wasn't hard to notice how rough Bucky was being while scrubbing off cooked on dough. The cinnamon rolls Bucky made were always your favorite. It was a morning surprise for you.

"Baby," Bucky whispered as he kissed your temples. "I need you to wake up before breakfast gets cold,"

"Okay," You mumbled, opening your eyes slowly. You saw his gorgeous face hovering over yours. Strands of brown hair fell from his face, framing it perfectly. His blue eyes shone in the morning light. You saw the strands of dark blue pop from the light blue. His eyes were an ocean, like ones you'd visit in the summer. The oceans on the beaches Tony would bring you to. They were the eyes that reminded you of team bonding at the poolside. Those eyes were the eyes you'd look into when you were scared. They were the eyes that loved you.

You eventually got up. It felt like forever to you, sluggishly arising from your soft bed. Your feet landed on the chilly wood floors. You didn't feel like getting dressed, walking into the kitchen as you were. As soon as you entered the room, delicious sents flooded your senses. The perfect balance of sweet and spicy was engulfing the room.

Over breakfast, the two of you discussed chores. You family was coming down for the weekend to visit. They were meeting Bucky for the first time, it was a big deal. They were a little weary when you told them you were moving in with Bucky, reasonably. They'd never met him, so they were scared for your safety. So ever since the week prior, Bucky has been in cleaning mode. He vacuumed once a day, which was typically a weekly chore. Bucky cleaned out the fridge, something you hadn't done in months. The countertops were clean after every meal. Every shelf was dusted and rearranged.

You tasked yourself to rake the leaves, desiring to be done before the weekend. Your Dad was a garden guy. He took good care of his lawn and garden. You figured you'd spare Bucky the stress, assigning yourself the chore. You understand gardening, for the most part.  It was a menial task, but not the worst. The bright orange and bold gold of the leaves surrounding you was calming. The small crunch they made when you stepped on them was entertaining. However, it was more alarming when you heard the 'entertaining' crunch approaching behind you.

"Surprise!" Bucky shouted, throwing leaves at you when you turned around. The leaves fluttered to the floor, a number of them sticking to your sweater.

"Bucky! I just raked this whole area," You scolded. You weren't genuinely upset. It was more of an 'I'm annoyed with you but you're too cute to be mad at' type of scold. It was a type of scold that Bucky earned a lot. You'd make sure he heard you playfully scoff when he brought Sam in the house after 10. Bucky felt the eye roll if he ever left his dirty clothes in the bathroom. He was used to it, but it was still effective in proving your annoyance.

Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your nose. You could smell the spice in his breath, not that it's a bad thing.

"Sorry hon', didn't mean to. Need help?" Bucky asked with a grin on his face, placing another kiss on your forehead. He must've gotten a leaf in your hair, you felt his metal hand move from your waist and pluck something off your head.

You shook your head, denying Bucky's help. The bags under his eyes signified to you he was tired. He'd been tuckering himself out the past week. Bucky denied himself breaks while cleaning around the house. You couldn't remember a time he sat down for more than three minutes.

Bucky tilted his head at your denial. "Mmm, too bad," Bucky stated, departing you to find another rake in your shed. You giggled, getting back to work.

He soon returned with a taller rake than the one you had, a worn-down red handle to match some of the leaves. He whistled, raking leaves into one big pile. You two would talk every once in a while, making small talk. You guys didn't mind the silence, but small talk helped get the job done faster.

"If you could only have one color apple, which one would it be?" Bucky asked, raking around a small tree in your backyard.

"By color, do you mean like red, green and yellow?"  You shouted, being about fifty feet away from him, closer to the house.

"Yeah!" He replied, pushing a mixture of dead grass, twigs and orange leaves into his pile.

"Hm, probably yellow. They're sweet but not too sweet. They're not sour either, which is perfect!" You added, plucking a few leaves that found their way on your sweater, off. There were a few on your jeans too. You bent over, taking two off the knees of your distressed jeans.

Bucky made a disgusted face. His nose scrunched up, his eyebrows furrowing.  "Yellow? Seriously? Is it too late to move out?! Those are the grossest ones, Y/N! Green is the way to go, I'm a sour apple kind of guy,"

You chuckled, resuming raking the spacious yard.

This apple conversation later evolved. Who knew?

"Okay, Buck, if you like green apples so much, do you think green apple candy is good?" You ask, relatively closer to the brunette.

"Green apple candy is the worst, Y/N!" Bucky responded, with a playful mock of disgust. "It's too sweet. A green apple is sour, it should stay sour!"

"Bucky, it's sweet because it's candy!" You suggested. You knew that Bucky knew that's why it was sweet, but it's all for the sake of conversation.

Bucky shook his head, circling the tree to rid of the leaves at the base.

Other conversations arose, he questioned you about modern technology. You quizzed him about 40's music, a thing you loved to talk about. Bucky smiled every time you asked if he heard a specific song. He loved how infatuated you were with his time and pop culture. It was something admirable about you.

"Did you hear the song 'Rum and Coca-Cola', Buck?"

"Who was it by?" Bucky questioned. Maybe if he heard the artist name, it would ring a bell.

"The Andrews Sisters," You replied, picking up a few larger sticks and adding them to a nearby pile. It was in your head that you could have a small fire when your parents arrive.

Bucky shook his head with a small smile. "No, I don't think so. I might need to hear it to see if I know it. You can't rely on my old brain to remember something like that,"

"Whatever old man," You laugh, throwing some leaves at Bucky. He rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at you. He threw leaves back, which was a bad idea. You two had ditched the rakes and were now chucking small piles of leaves at each other. The you in ten minutes will be so mad.

Raking took hours. It's closer to three o-clock when you step back to admire your work. The yard was essentially barren! Bucky was going around, picking up a few strays from the ground and placing them in a plastic bag. You guys made three big piles. One was near the shed, and it was slightly larger than the third step of your patio. Another was near the small tree in the back of your yard. The last pile was in the dead center of your yard. Bucky held the plastic bag in his hand, waving when he noticed you were watching him. You grinned, returning the wave and walking up the patio steps.

"Where 'ya going, dollface?" Bucky asked, sneaking up behind you and placing the bag on your grill.

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I was wishing to go inside for a minute. Why do you ask, my love?" He beamed at the pet name.

"You're missing out on the best part of leave raking, Y/N!" Bucky sighed, planting his hands on your hips. "The only thing more fun than raking leaves is jumping in them once you're finished ranking 'em!" He let go of you, finishing his sentence. He pulled himself away from your arms. Bucky stood still waiting for your response.

"James," You warned. This provoked Bucky to depart from the old, wooden patio. Watching Bucky sprint to one of the piles was entertaining. His hair was flying behind him, the brown locks blending in with the dying grass surrounding you. You observed him barreling towards the pile near the tree. He jumped in, making leaves float above the pile, and settle on the ground and back in the pile. Your jaw dropped, he had the nerve to do that. "Bucky, what the hell?!" You watched Bucky's face. He had the widest grin on his face, he looked happy.

You sauntered over to the pile. You weren't angry, more amused than anything else. "You've got some balls to do that. We've been out here since nine!" You laughed, with a bit of annoyance and a smidge of happiness.

"Dollface, I pinky promise on Steve's life that after we're done, we'll clean it up. Hell, I'll clean it up!" Bucky mused.

You had an idea. You're gonna scare the shit out of Bucky Barnes. You shook your head no, turning on your heel. You walked about 10 steps towards the house until you turned back around and booked it towards the pile. You leaped into the bundle of leaves, making a small flurry of leaves float around the two of you. Bucky smirked, realizing you hopped on top of his chest. You giggled, leaning down and placing a kiss on the lips.

"Wanna get off of me, babe? I wanna show you the coolest thing ever." Bucky said, looking at you with admiration. His smile was wide. His white teeth popped out from the warm colors surrounding his face. The ocean that was his eyes stuck out from the oranges and reds underneath him. Everything about this moment was perfect, but you had to get up.

You lifted yourself off of Bucky, laughing as you did so. You wiped a few golden leaves that stuck to your sweater. Bucky made a hand motion for you to get out of the way, so you took a few steps backward.

Right before your eyes, you saw Bucky Barnes, your boyfriend, no a backflip into the pile of leaves.

"Holy shit!" You shouted, immediately covering your mouth in case any neighbors heard. It was too late if they did hear, though. You felt your eyes widen at the sight of Bucky's trick. He got up from the leaves, chuckling. His hair was full of orange, yellow and red leaves, it was like a wig.

"You're going to be the death of me, babe," You deadpan, plucking the leaves out of Bucky's hair. He mumbles something about you loving it while you take the remaining leaves.

"You, mister," You point to Bucky, "Are going to rake this up. I, Y/N am going to go make us some glasses of tea so we can relax" You check your watch. "I'll probably get a start on dinner too,"

It was nearing five now, by the time he finishes and dinner was done it would probably be six. If you add a shower into the equation, you two would be dressed in PJs and watching a Halloween movie at eight-thirty. Better start now.

Bucky nods, understanding what you're saying. He made the mess, he's going to pick it up. "What's for dinner?"

You start walking away, pulling a leaf from underneath your belt. "You'll find out when you come inside, leaf boy,"

Bucky shook his head as you walk away, chuckling at himself. You're going to be a tough cookie after all he made you deal with today. For all he knows, you probably have leaves in your sweater. What he'd give to find out.

Bucky was almost done when you hung out of the kitchen window.

"Dinner time!" You cheer out from the warmth of your house.

Bucky came running in, stomping off his boots in case they got mud in them. You giggled at the simple act, he'd been doing that ever since you educated him on mud tracks. He untied them and arrived in the kitchen, sliding a bit on the floor due to his mix and matched socks. He reached over you to grab two paper plates from a shelf and placed them on the counter. Did he smell the lovely smell of tomato and cheese, plus an interesting vegetable smell? It was pizza night.

"Looks amazing, babe," Bucky says as he kisses a kiss to your shoulder. You mutter a thank you while cutting out pieces for the two of you. They weren't perfect slices, some of the triangles being smaller than others. Though, it was hard to deny that it looked terrible.

The pizza was a hit. Bucky had almost all of it. He would've eaten all of it if you'd let him. However, you needed food to eat. The night concluded in watching a movie on the couch. Tonight was your choice, and you wanted to watch something spooky. 25 minutes into 'Beetlejuice' and your pajama-clad boyfriend was passed out. You heard the wind blowing when realization hit you like a truck.

You never put the leaves in the bag.

It was windy.

You'd need to do this all over again tomorrow.

[veinsandknuckles]

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 6 (Tallahassee/Reader)

(Please consider reblogging if you like the fic!)

Tallahassee would never bother with a ‘nice merlot’ as long as there was stronger stuff for him to grab, his logic being that percentage won out over flavor every time and that drinking wine, especially named wine, was ‘fucking gay’. (Everyone had given up on trying to check his casual homophobia, but at least he’d traded some of his stronger terms for well... words that weren’t slurs.)

So what you got, after a lot of sulking, was neat rum in served up in clean glasses and cups, none of which matched the other. Tallahassee shook his head at you when you poured the left-over juice from the canned pineapple into yours and Little Rocks drinks, then groaned with disappointment when Columbus shrugged and followed suit.

Little Rock cheered to adulthood and immediately downed her drink. Because of your stunt with the juice, she wouldn’t be able to tell that it was practically a mocktail.

You stole both Tallahassee’s and Columbus’ line by cheering to alcohol and knocked back what you hoped would be the first glass of many. Tallahassee didn’t stop you from reaching for the bottle.

Columbus cheered to life, instantly embarrassing everyone before he clarified that he was being sarcastic.

Tallahassee cheered to tits and guns and freedom. Things deteriorated after that.

Columbus was waiting for you in the hallway with the mop when you left Little Rock’s room. You shut her door as quietly as you could and looked up at him.

“Is she... going to be okay?” Columbus leaned the mop against the wall and smoothed back his hair. You prayed he’d actually used it and not brought it up for you as a hint.

“Oh yeah. She got it all up and out and I helped her clean herself up. She’ll be right as rain after a night’s sleep.”

Little Rock hadn’t had a bad first go at being drunk. She hadn’t embarrassed herself any worse than hitting Columbus in the nose and admitting to you, in between vomiting, that she’d made out with Michael once behind the bleachers so he’d teach her how to hot wire a car. She’d just assumed you knew who Michael was. Or who Michael had been.

Columbus still looked a little worried and his nose still looked swollen, but he tried to smile. “It was so nice of you to take care of her like that. You’d make a really good mom.”

“...what?”

“No, I mean, you... you’re just... good, you know? Nice. A nice person.”

You could see he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him but you were too tired to help him untangle this one. Columbus shut his eyes tight. Eventually you relented.

“Right. Thank you. Thankfully we’ll never have to find out about the ‘mom’ part.”

He laughed and nodded and you’d never seen anyone make it look less natural.

The tension out here was as thick as glue, worse than could be expected after only a weirdly put compliment, and it worried you because hardly any of this tension was radiating from you.

Columbus was... there was no nicer way to put it, he was getting weirder. You’d avoided speculation and this was not when you wanted to go there - you were still buzzed, everyone had had a chance to unwind (all over the stairs in Little Rock’s case) and while you’d counted on having to help the actual child, you absolutely did not want to babysit anybody else. Or their... feelings.

“Well, um. It was still really nice of you and I was just thinking that maybe you could use some a-... some time to relax, too. I got an old tape player working in the rec room, it just needed new batteries.”

Oh, you could picture it alright, more terrible cocktails, tinny top 40 music from back when cassettes were still a thing and Columbus trying to make out with you against a fuss-ball table. You shuddered and pulled your hoodie tighter around you to pretend it was the draft that was bothering you. He wasn’t a bad guy, he just didn’t know what he was doing, or that you wouldn’t be willing to teach him. God help him if he found out your real preference... he’d have to accept that when you got quiet and stared out the car window, you weren’t, as he’d apparently assumed, wishing for a life of peace and safety, obscure indie rock and rearing apple-cheeked children but instead daydreaming about crawling into the front seat and choking on Tallahassee’s dick while he was still driving.

You’d been wrong. No attention at all would be better than this. You missed being ignored by Tallahassee.

“That... that sounds so nice, Columbus, but I’m completely wrecked. Can we take a rain check?”

Columbus beamed as if that’s just the words he’d hoped to hear. You’d been too nice, you’d made your negative much too ambiguous.

“Rain check, yeah, of course! The rec room isn’t going anywhere. Did you check it out yet? It’s pretty cool, totally retro.”

“I bet it is.” You sighed and rubbed your forehead to sell the excuse. Actually, speak of the devil - now you were really developing a headache. “Seems a shame to let the cocktails go to waste though. Mind if I steal one as a nightcap?”

“Of course not, I made them for you. I’ll bring one up for you.”

You had to squeeze past him to get to your bedroom and you heard him draw in a sharp breath. God damn it. You shut your door behind you, leaned on it and nearly slid to the floor, then pulled yourself together. The door opened inwards so you wedged a chair under the handle and sat down on the bed.

Something was different and you looked around, eager for anything else to think about. It took you a few seconds, then you brushed your hand across the bed again and realised it was made, not rumpled like you’d left it, and the sheets were different.

At first you felt sick. You didn’t want to have to elevate Columbus from misguided softie to genuine creep... but he’d been outside, and then with Little Rock in the kitchen all afternoon and evening. Tallahassee had been the only one upstairs.

You pulled the blanket back and leaned down to sniff the sheets. They were clean, a little musty from disuse... and then you caught a whiff of Tallahassee’s cologne.

He’d made your bed. It made you flush hot, even though you remembered that Little Rock’s bed had been surprisingly fresh, too and knew he’d probably just done over all of them to keep his hands busy.

Still. The sheets smelled a little like him and you quickly pulled the pillow over that spot, lest it faded into the night before Columbus’ return. You should not have asked him to fetch you that drink....

The door rattled and you got back up, got the chair out of the way and exited into the hallway. Columbus hadn’t even knocked. You smiled at him awkwardly and then pretended you only just now realised that blocking the door against him was a little odd. “I can’t go to sleep these days unless I know no one can get in...”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense.”

You took the glass from his hand and left it on a table just inside your room. Columbus wasn’t leaving.

“Thank you, Columbus. That was really nice of you.”

“You know you’re safe, right? Me and Tallahassee, we’ll make sure we’re all safe.”

“Never hurts to be a little paranoid.”

He tried to laugh that off, and you looked down at your hands.

“Well... Goodnight, alright?” Take the hint. Please, take the hint. He was still there. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

Columbus leaned out, gave two awkward finger guns and you couldn’t help laughing even if you were uncomfortable. That was a mistake, because Columbus must have read somewhere that women go for men that make them laugh and he leaned in with one hand on the wall next to your ear and kissed you.

You’d never expected him to just go for it like that... and his other hand was actually on your arm, making it difficult for you to slip away. His breath tasted like pure alcohol. He’d never been a big drinker. You weren’t sober yourself so your reaction time left something to be desired; finally, and it felt like it’d taken an age, you overcame your surprise and pushed him gently but firmly away from you.

“Columbus...” You kept your voice at a whisper because the last thing you wanted was to embarrass him any more than you had to.

“I... that was wrong. Right? I misread you.”

“Yeah. You did.”

He nodded, quickly, head bobbing up and down as if that could dislodge his blush. “It was too soon. I get it. I’m sorry.”

You drew a deep breath. You really hadn’t wanted to have to do this, but now the situation had become too dire for hints. “Columbus, I’m sorry, but it has nothing to do with time. I just don’t think of you that way. And I’m never going to.”

He stared at you. First he looked confused, then almost angry, then lost. “...Why? I mean, why not?”

“Come on, you don’t really want me to answer that.”

“Oh.” He stepped back further and smiled, stiff and proud and this time definitely a little pissed off. “No, I get it. I’m just a skinny nerd, what would you want with me? You should hold out for Mr. Perfect, I’m sure he’s right around the corner.”

As if your taste wasn’t a good enough reason... you drew yourself up a little too. He wouldn’t force you to apologise again, or to give him an explanation that he’d like better. He was drunk and disappointed, sure, but that would only excuse him for so long. “You’re too good a person to want someone who’s just settling for you, or someone who’s with you out of pity.”

“Good guy, that’s me.”

“Don’t start.”

Columbus sucked in a deep breath through his nose and when he exhaled it, his anger left with it. “You’re right. That was a shitty thing to say, I’m sorry.” He rubbed his eyes and added. “I’m so drunk, still... as it turns out, rum is strong stuff.”

But he’d used up all your patience by now so you just nodded and moved back towards your door. “Then go sleep it off. I’ll forget this ever happened as long as you take me at my word and don’t try anything like that again.”

This time, you did slide to the floor when you got back into your room. You sat there for a long time with your arms around your knees and you didn’t cry.

---

Well, it had happened. It’d finally happened.

The two of you had been much too busy to hear him step out onto the landing, and if you’d heard him go back into his room or shut his door and realised you’d had an audience, it wasn’t his problem.

Tallahassee stared at the bottle in his hand. For a moment he meant to chuck it at the wall, but someone would be bound to come running to chew him out for causing noise. And it was still half full. It’d be a shame to waste it.

He would’ve punched a pillow instead, but that’d never done any good for anybody. He stalked to the window and looked down at the abandoned car - maybe the keys were still in the ignition. He hadn’t had time to unpack his own stuff yet, he could just grab his bag and bail, let these idiots fend for themselves and see how they liked it.

But no, he couldn’t do that, not to Little Rock. That boy must have some well hidden talent for manipulation because he’d known just what to say to make Tallahassee start to think of her almost as if she was his own daughter. And now he’d gotten under your skin, too.

Tallahassee had spun on his heels the instant he saw you two locking lips and he couldn’t get the image of it out of his mind. God fucking damn it, his own room was right next yours. Any minute now he’d have to listen to the headboard bouncing off the wall and the two of you doing your best to keep quiet.

Only light at the end of the tunnel was that there was absolutely no way it’d last long. He snorted. Columbus might as well have ‘adult virgin’ tattooed across his forehead and Tallahassee would eat his own hat if that pipsqueak lasted more than a minute.

That wasn’t much of a positive. Because it’d still mean someone other than Tallahassee was fucking you, holding you... finishing in you. Maybe if the kid was bad enough at it, you’d tire of him eventually. Want something real. Someone who’d know what to do with you...

God, that was a real low thought. Tallahassee took a deep drink, ran his fingers over his face and groaned. Definitely starting to lose it, the old him would never have gotten this twisted up over a woman. Maybe he should take that car for a joyride, find some zombies to cut down and -

Someone knocked on his door. Oh, great.

“Now’s really not the time,” he growled. There was a creak as whoever it was shifted their weight from one foot to the other. Then your voice, soft and quiet, replied with a “please.”

You looked as if you were about to cry. Or like you were pissed off, it was hard to tell sometimes. Tallahassee stared down at you, completely non-plussed, then leaned out of the doorway but there was no one else on the landing. “Uh... yeah. Fine.”

You slipped past him barefoot and he, very gently, closed the door and gestured to the bed, the only piece of furniture in here for you to sit on. As it happened, he gestured with the hand still holding the bottle. Oh well. The floor probably could do with being disinfected. He watched you impassively as you padded over and sat down with a shiver, then held the bottle out to you. You took it, drank, made a face and then settled back down to looking tired and miserable.

“I leave you people alone for five minutes and this is what happens, huh?”

If you’d been a friend or a lover, hell, even a kid, Tallahassee would have known what to do. He’d stroke your chin and lift it up so you would look at him and then he’d pull you close, let you give him your weight and keep still and gentle while you cried or talked out your worries. But you were none of those things. The only thing he could offer without crossing any boundaries was words. Of course, he wasn’t comfortable with that kind of talk and you didn’t really look ready to spill your guts unprovoked.

“Come on,” he managed at last. “Romeo couldn’t have been that bad, could he?”

[niccage]

bc things look best when asked from an ask ILL PROMPT MYSELF!! "i’m sick on halloween but told you to go have fun at the party anyway but instead you surprised me with a blanket fort, tons of candy and all my favourite scary movies" newt/geiszler GO

what a solid request thank you @newtgeiszlur 

— 

To Hermann Gottlieb, falling ill on Halloween morning was hardly a “worst case scenario,” nor would it usually have been of particular concern to him at all in years prior. In times of both earthly isolationist peace and great extraterrestrial war, Halloween had never been of much interest to him, and you would never catch him donning a silly costume at a work party while sipping plastic cups of a spiked beverage whose flavor could only be described as bottom shelf vodka and Red 40 while 50 other full grown adults did the Thriller dance on a cafeteria floor. No, missing such an opportunity would normally not be a loss for Hermann Gottlieb. 

To Newt Geiszler, however, the only thing worse than himself falling ill on Halloween morning was his quasi-secret sometimes-boyfriend slash lab partner slash couples costume co-conspirator getting caught up with a nasty case of the flu in the early hours of October 31st, and yes, these were both worst case scenarios, and the latter was currently underway as they spoke, as he had been notified by a message on his laptop from a concerned Mako Mori that had stopped by his counterpart’s room in the preceding morning hours. 

Newt had just walked in the door to Hermann’s Shatterdome apartment to see his partner in bed, swallowed by a massive white comforter and surrounded by menthol lozenge wrappers and real, bonafide handkerchiefs (because of course he would be too prim for Kleenex, Newt briefly considered) that had certainly seen better days. What appeared to be vintage Barabara Walters clips played at full blast on the small, crooked television screen that hung from his wall, though Hermann didn’t seem to pay it much mind, although he wasn’t looking at Newt, either, for that matter. His locked gaze seemed to only concentrate on the grey ceiling above him.

“I don’t even think I realized you had a TV in here,” Newt said, looking for the remote to turn down the volume. Not that the noise bothered him, but he knew that if healthy Hermann didn’t like any loud or obnoxious noises save Wagner’s symphonies, then sick Hermann probably wasn’t enjoying this, either.

“Neither did I,” grumbled Hermann as he slowly shifted his head to look at Newt. “Mako turned it on this morning when she stopped by to drop off the briefings from the pilot meetings last evening. I believe she thought it would help, but it seems as though the programming gets louder the closer we find ourselves to the noon hour and I haven’t been able to place the remote.”

Newt wasn’t having much luck placing it either, so he resorted to shutting the screen off manually before he turned his attention solely to Hermann. Though Hermann had perhaps never been the vision of youth, his face looked grayer than Newt had ever seen it with the exception of his nose, which held all of Hermann’s vibrance and redness within itself. He had clearly not had the energy to shower that morning and his hair still showed all his sleep in the way each strand went this way and that. Bedhead was a rare sight on Hermann, as Newt always slept later than him, so he tried to take as much of it in as he could while still maintaining the plot, which was that Hermann was sick and it was, very importantly, Halloween morning.

“How are you feeling?” asked Newt uncomfortably, knowing the answer already but not wanting to face the reality.

Hermann stared blankly at him while he removed a white handkerchief with blue trim from his bedside table and brought it daintily to his nose. “Wonderful,” he said dryly.

“So, should I assume you’ll be out of the lab all day, then?” Newt continued, awkwardly scratching at his pant leg while looking across the overall barren room at Hermann in his down feather cocoon. 

“I would imagine that would be a yes, Newton,” Hermann sighed, clearly failing to understand the point of this conversation. “And all other activities that would have fallen within the jurisdiction of today.” 

That was all Newt needed to hear for his face to fall, unwillingly and unintentionally, and he knew Hermann could see it, as his own expression untightened and turned to one of almost guilt. “I’m sorry,” Hermann continued. “I know you were looking forward to this evening,” referring to the Halloween party that Tendo had been planning since early July that featured a confirmed guest list of nearly every employee at the Shatterdome and was considered to be the biggest and booziest event of the year, save they unexpectedly close the breach or something similar before January. Not only had Newt been talking about it during their lab hours nonstop since who knows when, but he had even convinced Hermann to enter the costume contest with him as an obviously platonic Mulder and Scully. Newt had had his ginger wig sitting on his bedroom sink for months and had probably treated it more carefully and lovingly than he did his own (fucking awesome, if he did say so himself) hair. 

Newt couldn’t bother trying to hide his disappointment on his face once it had already come out, so he just shrugged and gave a hint of a forced smile. “It’s okay, I promise. I can find something else to go as that doesn’t require a second person,” said Newt, and he really was trying to not sound as dramatic as possible but fuck, he really had been excited about this. He’d known that with the track he’d put together for the DJ to play when it was their turn to be up on stage paired with the sheer screen accuracy of the costumes that he had put together for him and Hermann, they really could have won that shit tonight, and now he was going to have to put together something last minute that just won’t be as good. Without Hermann. 

Hermann weakly beckoned for Newt to sit beside him on his twin-sized mattress, to which Newt obliged. The closer Newt was, the sicker he could see that Hermann really was (not that he’d ever doubted him, but a scientist can hope, right?) and brought the back of his hand to his forehead. “Do I feel very hot to you?” said Hermann, mustering a smile with eyes that clearly showed how guilty he felt for ruining Newt’s evening. 

“You know you’re always hot to me, babe,” said Newt, who was never one to resist an opportunity. Hermann began to chuckle but instead began hacking on something lodged in his throat. “Do I need to get you down to medical, though?” he continued, “Or like, get you a doctor up here or something?” 

Hermann quickly shook his head to this while his coughing receded. “No, no, no,” he said, “I know I may not look very good but I do know this is no more than simply the flu, which I have dealt with many times in the course of my life and do not need to bother a medic about. Nor,” he continued between soft coughs, “need you concern yourself with me. I know you still have work to do in the lab today and that you’re going to skip all of it to focus on making a new costume for yourself tonight so that you can win that thing you’re so concerned about.” 

Newt’s heart warmed at the way that Hermann pretended to not know exactly it was that he had entered them into this evening and he brought his hand gently to Hermann’s warm cheek as his fellow scientist shivered and curled more into his comforter. “Okay, okay,” he said, before he leaned down to kiss Hermann’s forehead as delicately as he could muster and got up to leave the room and let Hermann rest. “I’ll stop by later, yeah? Before I go tonight?”

Hermann nodded, pulling the blanket up tighter to his neck. “Please do, my darling. I’d like to see what awful thing you muster up for this evening.” 

This got Newt to grin as he went to step out the door back into the apartment hallway. “Oh, you know it, babe.”

—

Hermann spent the following hours in and out of deep sleep, with his moments of reality largely consisting of blowing his nose, guzzling down the hot green tea that continually and magically appeared by his bedside every time he woke up (Newt was certainly one to hold onto, moments like this reminded him,) and staring at the grey ceiling of his apartment while fighting back feelings of both terrible congestion and infinite guilt for ruining Newt’s evening. Never would he have thought in his life that he would resent having a genuine medical excuse for not attending a Halloween celebration with his work colleagues, but Newt seemed to bring this side out of him more than he liked to admit. Hermann spent many of his waking moments over the course of the day considering how he could make it up to him, though he continued to draw blanks on how. This evening had really been something that Newt had clearly been looking forward to for weeks, and Hermann had just gone and blown it for him with no chances of rectifying it for him. He generally tried not to focus on his own instances of being a shit boyfriend, though he knew they were plentiful, but as he laid there between illness-induced naps, it sure was hard to not feel like the biggest asshole in their two-person K-Science division. 

Even as much as he had somewhat been dreading having to parade onstage amongst other costumed eccentrics like Newt, the fact that he was doing it with his partner had made him resent missing this all the more. For the first time in his life, Hermann had looked forward to bobbing for apples and eating repulsive candy corns and listening to the “Monster Mash” play no less than seven times on the loudspeaker in an overcrowded Shatterdome cafeteria, all because he knew that the man he, for some unforeseen reason, loved with all his heart, would be beside him, and even if they hadn’t decided to reveal it yet to the rest of their coworkers, just Newt’s sheer presence made everything not only manageable, but something that Hermann looked forward to immensely and intimately.

The fact that Newt was now going to the event alone caused a slight tear to form in Hermann’s heart, as he imagined the handsome scientist in a dazzling costume that won the entire evening, surrounded by suitors of all and any genders that were as amazed and impressed by the mere existence of Newton as he was, and while he trusted Newt enough to know that nothing would ever happen between any of these admirers and him, it didn’t mean that his petty and insecure sides were very comforted by the thought. 

Somewhere in the beginning of the evening, Hermann had begun finding it easier to delve back into consciousness as well as feeling more like an actual human being than a mere receptacle for influenza, though his ability to stand or breathe comfortably for more than a few seconds at a time continued to be limited. By 1900 hours, he heard a knock on the door, though didn’t bother asking who it was or telling it that it was free to enter, as he knew that if it was the only person he wanted to see that it would freely walk in regardless of any response he gave.

He was correct, and in walked Newt, not dressed in his typical lab clothes nor any clearly identifiable Halloween costume, but instead wearing simply an old Godzilla World Tour cotton t-shirt and a pair of green plaid pajama pants, which struck Hermann as odd. 

“Does your party not start soon?” Hermann asked, unable to stand the obnoxious nasal quality to his own voice. 

“Hello to you too, dear,” said Newt in a rapid voice, grinning from ear to ear as he stood in Hermann’s doorway, “and why yes, yes it does. Which is why I’m here, talking to you!” 

Hermann raised an eyebrow as far as he could muster. “Then, if I may ask, why are you not in any sort of costume?” 

Newt rolled his eyes as if it were obvious, “Again, that’s why I’m here! Duh! It’s in my room and you’re just going to have to come see it.” He began heading over to Hermann’s bed, clearly with the intention of helping him out of it and dragging him out of his room. 

“What?” Hermann exclaimed, not following but at the same time entirely unsure of what he was missing. “In case you haven’t noticed, Newton, I’m not exactly feeling my best and would rather stay where I am. And if you cannot remove it from your room, how, pray tell, do you intend to showcase it at the party?”

Newt seemed entirely nonplussed by either of Hermann’s objections and continued helping him rise from the bed. “When I show you, it’ll all make sense. Can’t you ever just like, chill and let me handle things?” 

Hermann, already exhausted after a day of battling various symptoms, caved easier than he likely would have in other instances and allowed his boyfriend to help him to the door. Fortunately, Newt’s room was just to the left of his own so they needn’t walk far to get to their desired destination. Hermann blew his nose into the lavender handkerchief that he had brought with him as Newt fiddled with the door until it swung open and he guided Hermann in without turning on the overhead light, and closed the front door behind them.

“You know, you may have consumed enough kaiju particles in your day to garner the ability to see in the dark but not all of us share the same genetic mutations,” Hermann griped as he stood in complete darkness while Newt scurried off to do God knows what. 

Newt laughed while he fiddled with something near his bed, a good ten steps from the front door. “Come on, we both know that’s a myth and that kaiju can orient themselves so well in the deep oceans because they have fucking awesome hearing and anyways just give me a second, okay?” 

Hermann, again too tired to argue, relented for the moment while he let Newt complete whatever it was that he was doing, until suddenly Newt seemed to find the outlet for which he must have apparently been looking, and the room lit up with small white fairy lights which cast a soft glow on a canopy of various blankets and quilts that had been hung from the back of table chairs over what Hermann presumed was still Newton’s twin-sized bed. 

Unable to think of anything to say, Hermann stood open-mouthed and looked at Newt, whose glasses reflected the tiny bulbs that had been strung across the ceiling of the tiny apartment and whose smile showed how excited he was to merely be in this moment with Hermann. 

“I couldn’t think of any costume nearly as good as the one we’d planned for tonight,” said Newt, who began to circle back around the room once more to get behind Hermann with the intention of wrapping his arms around his middle and pulling him close. “And honestly,” he continued, voice muffled as he leaned his head into Hermann’s back, “it really didn’t seem like it would be any fun without you there. So I figured we could have a night in and I could finally make the pillow fort that I’ve been dying to put up for you.”

Hermann began turning around in Newt’s arms and wrapped his own arms around the shorter man. “Newton, I’m not really sure what to say-” 

“I’m not done yet!” Newt went on, abruptly ending their embrace and instead pulling Hermann over to the small bed that they had long figured out how to most effectively share that was now enhanced by a covering of various prints and fabrics. Newt guided Hermann into the soft cave, and once they comfortably settled in, Hermann realized that Newt had created a perfect hole in the fort to see the television screen as well as stocked the bedside table with all of the Halloween treats that Hermann had recognized seeing in the Shatterdome convenience shop. Newt quickly reached over to grab a box of allegedly “spooky” Mike and Ike’s as well as the remote. “I already went and predownloaded ‘The Fly’ (1986) partially because I know you get hard from not only ridiculous pseudobiology and because, like, fucking Halloween and all, but also because I know how bad you want to get in early Jeff Goldblum’s pants and I thought it might ease your way into recovery.” 

Hermann scoffed but did not deny, and leaned further into Newt’s shoulder and tugged him tight. “I love you,” he sighed into Newton’s chest while his lover peppered his scalp with gentle kisses and pressed play on the remote. “Thank you, for all of this.”

Hermann could feel Newt’s lips pull into a smile by the way they moved across the top of his head. “I love you too, babe. And thank you, for being my-” 

He tried to stop him, he really did. “Newton, please.”

“Boo.”

[justanoutlawfic]

Coming Home: Chapt. 3

Summary: Emma is forced to stay in Storybrooke longer than expected and runs into some familiar faces...along with one she just can't recognize. 

Also on AO3/FF

Emma has only ever had three good father figures in her life. At least that she can remember. It’s more than a lot of foster kids might have had, she realizes, but in one way or another, they’ve let her down.

 There was the first dad she ever really had. The father that fostered her for three years. She can’t remember much about him except that he smiled a lot and they’d get bear claws every Saturday morning. At least towards the end of her stay with the Smiths, which was where she got her old last name. She changed it not long after she left the Nolans and found herself living on the street. An older boy told her a different way of looking at “The Ugly Duckling”. The duck became the swan, because she believed in herself. Emma supposed she could believe in herself too.

 There was Bill, when she was around 12 or 13, the years all start to blend together. He took her to a father/daughter dance at her middle school. He and Katie were going to take her on her very first vacation: a camping trip. Her foster brothers, their biological sons, were going to come along. Then Lily had to go and ruin all of that. The way Bill looked at her and said that she had put “his children” at risk. She realized he was never going to love her the same way he did Max and Zach. He hadn’t even fought for her when she ran away.

 The last was David. She had been with him less than the Smiths, but longer than Bill and Katie. For seven months, she had a home. David had promised her that he was going to be her forever father. After Jerry Smith, it was a promise she treasured. And then after David, it was a promise she never really believed again. She didn’t understand how he could go from playing with her, teaching her how to make cookies and checking for monsters in her closet…to just letting her slip away.

 Emma dealt with Henry at the beach. The kid was messed up, there was no doubt in her mind about that. He resented Regina and Emma felt for him, but she also knew that was his mom. They needed to work out whatever issues they had. Henry kept trying to insist his life sucked but Emma struggled with feeling for him. He had a mom that had called the police the minute he went missing. A mom that genuinely seemed to miss him. Regina and Henry were going through a rough patch, but they were going to be okay.

 It broke her heart to watch him forlornly walk into the house, but she knew just as she had 10 years ago, that it was for the best. Regina looked at her skeptically and Emma couldn’t blame her there. This was the second time her kid had run off in 24 hours and Emma had been the one to show up with him. She said her goodbyes and climbed into her bug, fully intending on heading out of Storybrooke and back to her life in Boston.

Until her bug stalled in the middle of Main Street. Which, like her former foster mother, hadn’t changed a bit.

 Billy, the mechanic, came fairly quick once Emma got the number from the waitress at the diner. His news, however, wasn’t as bright.

 “I’m a bit backed up,” he said. “I’m not going to be able to get to this for a while.”

Emma groaned. “You have got to be kidding me. I’m trying to get out of town. I’m not even from around here, what am I supposed to do now?”

Billy gestured behind him to the inn. “There’s a bed and breakfast? You could stay there.”

Emma shut her eyes, tipping her head backwards. She supposed she didn’t have much of a choice. “How backed up are you?” She asked.

“A week.”

“Of course. And you’re the only mechanic in town?”

“This is Storybrooke.”

“Right.”

 Emma turned around and headed towards the bed and breakfast. She hadn’t ever had a reason to stay there during her first go around in Storybrooke. She did happen to know the owners. If they remembered her, was going to be another question.

 Emma walked inside and up to the front desk. No one was around, at least not at first. Suddenly, she could hear arguing coming down the stairs. Yup, that was familiar. She remembered once asking Mary Margaret and David why Ruby fought so often with her grandmother, but they never had an answer.

 “I should have gotten out of this town when I had a chance!” Ruby yelled.

“I’m sorry my hip replacement ruined your travel plans,” Granny called back. She saw Emma and her entire demeanor changed. “A guest. My, we don’t get many of those.”

Emma arched an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

“No.” She scurried behind the desk. “It’s just you?”

“Yes. I’m looking to stay about a week.”

“Sounds perfect. Would you like a forest view or a square view? Normally there’s an upgrade for the square, but I can waive it.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile as Granny frantically busied herself behind the desk, looking for her ledger and a pen. It was clear she didn’t recognize her yet. “The square is fine.”

“You look familiar,” Ruby piped up. “But I haven’t seen you in a while.” She looked a bit closer. “You’re not…you’re not the kid that Mary Margaret and David fostered way back when, are you?”

Emma cringed at the mention of Mary Margaret and David. “I am.”

“Wow. I can’t believe it’s you.” Ruby looked her up and down. “You’re…you’re so grown up!”

“Yeah that’s what happens when you get forced out of town.” Emma turned away from Ruby and back to Granny who had the book open once again.

“What was your last name again, sweetie?”

“It’s changed, actually. Swan. Emma Swan.”

An unfamiliar accented voice spoke up from behind them. “Emma.” She turned her head and found a shorter man with shoulder length brown hair, dressed in a fancy suit. A cane was clutched in his hand. For the life of her, Emma could not place his face. “What a lovely name.”

“Thanks,” she replied, not knowing what else to say. Emma was one of the most popular baby names out there, not like it was something more unique. Yet, the man just kept smiling at her. It was starting to creep her out.

Granny reached out past her holding a wad of cash. “It’s all here,” she said firmly, though Emma could tell her usual demeaner was cracking.

“Yes, of course it is, dear.” He accepted the money and placed it into his jacket pocket. Then, he turned to face Emma. “Enjoy your stay…Emma.”

 He slowly walked out of the inn, making sure to look at each and every one of them as he did. The door shut behind him with a ring of the bell above it. Emma finally got the nerve to speak to Ruby again.

 “Who was that?”

“Mr. Gold.” Ruby shuddered a little, watching behind the curtain as he walked away. “He owns this place.”

“You mean the inn?”

“No,” Granny looked deeply afraid. “The town.”

 Emma tilted her head and more memories began to flood back. She vaguely remembered a Mr. Gold working with her former foster parents towards the end of her stay in Storybrooke. He was an attorney, they told her and would be helping them adopt her. That obviously hadn’t happened.

 She shook it off, not wanting to keep thinking about the past. “Can I get the key to my room, please?” She asked. “It’s been a long day.”

******************************************************************************************

Emma woke up the following morning, slightly forgetting where she was. For a minute she expected to be back in her Boston apartment with the calligraphy painted front door. Instead, she had a lumpy mattress under back and a scratchy blanket over her body. She climbed out of bed and walked to the window, not caring that she was just in a white tank top and her underwear. On the streets below her, the town was aflutter with people heading to work and school. She cracked her neck, trying to get the pressure of the awful night from out of her.

 Before she could text her boss to let him know she’d be out of commission for the week, there was a knock at the door. Heading over, she opened it hesitantly to find Regina Mills on the other side holding a basket of apples. This town was too strange for her liking. Had it been that way when she was little?

 “Did you know that the honey crisp tree is one of the most vigorous apple trees?”

 Emma tilted her head. It was too early and she hadn’t had any coffee or cocoa to deal with this agricultural lesson.

 “It can survive temperatures as low as 40 below and keep growing,” Regina prattled on. She gave Emma a soft, yet firm smile. Emma suddenly realized she wasn’t here to give her gardening tips. No, this was a threat. “It can weather any storm. I’ve had one I’ve tended to since I was a little girl. And to this day, I have yet to taste anything more delicious than the fruit it offers.” She plucked an apple off the top and offered it to Emma, who slowly took it.

“Thanks,” she said, giving Regina a weird look.

Regina extended the basket to her. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy them on your drive home.”

“Actually, I’m going to stay awhile.” Regina blinked several times in under two seconds. “My car broke down and you only have one mechanic. He said it’s going to take a week.”

“Oh.” Regina loosened only slightly. “With all due respect, Miss Swan, I do think it’d be best if you stayed away from Henry during this time.”

“With all due respect, Madam Mayor, your son’s the one that sought me out. I have no intentions of further complicating your lives. I just want my bug fixed so I can leave and get back to my life.”

 Regina didn’t look so convinced, but she nodded nonetheless.

 “I do have him in therapy, you know.” Emma raised an eyebrow. “Henry. The situation is under control. I know what’s best for my son.”

Emma hadn’t planned on questioning Regina’s authority, but she could tell the woman was clearly afraid she was. “You’re his mom,” is all she said in response.

“Yes. I am.”

 Regina walked away, taking the rest of her apples with her. Emma sighed and took a bite of the one she left behind. At least she got a free breakfast.

***************************************************************************************

Emma didn’t know what else to do with her morning, so after grabbing a cup of coffee from Granny’s she decided to take a walk.

 The town really was the same. None of the shops had been updated in the past 23 years. The people all looked the same for the most part too. It was like they all drank some version of spiked water or had great deals with plastic surgeons.

 Or Henry’s theory about them all being cursed by Regina is true.

 Emma rolled her eyes. There was something weird about the town, but magic wasn’t it. Fairytales, wishes on shooting stars, she stopped believing on all of that ages ago. Henry was still a kid, it was cute that he thought that his school teacher was Snow White. Maybe less cute that he viewed his mom as the Evil Queen but what pre-teen didn’t at times?

 As Emma rounded the corner to go off Main Street, she found herself walking to the house where she had spent most of her time in Storybrooke when she first lived there. The big blue house with the wraparound porch. There had once been a yellow and white bike, that David helped her learn to ride. Mary Margaret’s garden was long gone. Her old foster mom’s station wagon and David’s truck weren’t in the driveway, instead replaced by two Volvos. She had seen Mary Margaret’s car at the school, so was there a chance that they no longer lived there?

“I had a feeling I might find you here.”

 His voice was soothing, like warm water. She didn’t want to turn around and see his face. She tried to block out the memories, just as she had over the years. Yet, the most prominent one floated up. The two of them sitting in front of the TV, wearing matching jerseys and yelling at it at the top of their lungs. She had tried her best to learn everything about football and had probably failed. She mostly liked the snacks that David made before the games and the way she could curl up against his chest, most likely falling asleep. It had been the first way they could truly bond after she came to live with them.

 “What, you’re stalking me now?”

“We were afraid last night that you left, that we missed our chance. Then word got around town that you checked into the inn last night. We had some hope.”

“My car broke down, just waiting for it to be fixed.” She suddenly had a weird feeling. “Did you mess with it?”

“No, no. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t put you in danger. All of that, was just one big coincidence.”

 For some reason, Emma believed him. She slowly turned around, forcing herself to look at the man she had once called “Daddy”. Like everyone else in the stupid town, he looked exactly the same. Blonde hair, blue eyes and a bit of fuzz around the cheeks. It used to scratch her when he gave her a kiss, but she never complained. He even still dressed the same, just like Mary Margaret. David wore a blue flannel shirt and some jeans. His badge stuck out over the pocket of his pants, showing off that he still held the same career.

 David’s eyes glistened at the sight of her and she almost had to look away again. “Mary Margaret was right, you’re all grown up now. I don’t get how that’s possible.”

“It’s been 23 years.”

“I just…I didn’t think that much time had passed. In my mind, you’re still 5 years old and we’re going out for ice cream after school.”

Emma didn’t smile at the memory. “I told your wife what I’m going to tell you. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Mary Margaret and I aren’t together anymore.”

 That’s one thing that changed.

 She remembered looking through David and Mary Margaret’s photo albums, more specifically their wedding one. Mary Margaret always looked like a princess to her. She even wore a tiara. In those seven months she spent with them, David and Mary Margaret had probably been the healthiest relationship she had seen until Bill and Katie. They laughed together, they kissed and went on the occasional date night. The two were always saying “I love you”. To Emma at that age, it was like being fostered by a fairytale couple. The way they looked at each other as if they were the only two in the room. It made her feel safe somehow.

 Now it was like all of that was taken away, on top of their happy family.

 “Well that’s…too bad.” She wanted to ask why. She didn’t get how two people that in love didn’t work out, but she didn’t want to feel even more involved in their lives. “It still doesn’t change what I said.”

“Stay in Storybrooke, Emma.”

“I’m here for the week until my car gets fixed.”

“Stay longer than that.”

“Why do you even care?” Emma threw her hands in the air. “You two gave me away and then couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye or explain why to me.”

“It was a complicated situation. We wanted to but social services…”

“No, that’s bullshit. You two were just two more people in my life that let me down.”

David let out a disgruntled sigh. “If that were true, then why would we be here fighting for you Emma? Why would I be trying to get you to hear us out when you clearly hate us? For God’s sake, I was your father…”

“I don’t know! Maybe you have some weird guilt! Maybe you think it’ll get Mary Margaret to talk to you! What I do know is, you’re not my dad, David.” She fixed him with a look. “You made sure of that.”

“Emma, we lo….”

Emma stormed away, not letting him get another word out. She didn’t want to hear it.

 She didn’t want to hear that they loved her. Because what did it matter? They had just let her go in the end.

[katieelizabeth]

What would you call your body type? Definitely curvy

Are you a morning person? Yes and no. I’m taking sleep meds for nausea so right now waking up is kinda hard. 

Have you ever been to Target? Loveeeeee Target

Do you like iced tea? Iced tea is always my jam

When is the next time you’ll be at work? Hmm it’s kinda up in the air right now. I’m itching to get back tho.

Do you have a savings account? Yes. one for myself, one with my boyfriend

Has anyone ever hacked your accounts before? Only once.

What color bedsheets are currently on your bed? Currently grey

Have you ever been to Disney World? If so, how many times have you been? Yes, I wanna say total like 6 times.

Does grammar and capitalization mean anything to you? It absolutely does.

Are you good at wrapping gifts for others? My boyfriend thinks I'm a terrible wrapper hahah

Do you have a dirty clothes hamper in your room? Yes.

What would you say is your favorite television show? If I had to narrow it down, probably Skins. 

Do you enjoy big holiday dinners? Yes and no. I don’t care for holiday dinners with my family but I love holiday dinners with my boyfriends family. 

Is there any piece of jewelry you’re constantly wearing? I’m not married or engaged but I do wear a small silver band on my ring finger.

What is one thing you desire as of now? To be able to just go and sit down in a restaurant. This virus has everyone living in fear and I'm tired of it and want to live normally and enjoy my pregnancy

What kind of phone do you have? An iPhone XR.

If you could move anywhere, where would you choose? Canada or London

Do you blog a lot, if at all? No not really. I used to when Xanga was big.

Is your present hair color, natural? Nope.

What makes you the most angry when it comes to people? My boyfriend thinks that anytime my opinion is different than his, then I'm trying to argue with him. It’s so fucking frustrating. 

Describe your current outfit? Anaheim Ducks shirt and matching pj pants hahah

What was the last thing you ordered online? Some toothbrushes lol

Have you ever felt as though you were drifting apart from a best friend? Ive had two best friends in my life completely shut me out before. It sucks.

What color are your eyes? Poop brown

Have you ever worn color contacts? I have but I could never wear them because of the astigmatisms in both my eyes. Lasik was the best decision of my life

What’s the best thing about a hug? Right now I miss everything about hugs

Biggest fear? Losing my loved ones, death, never getting better/getting worse, never doing anything with my life....

If you have a significant other, how long have you been together? Just celebrated three years

Do you know any genuinely friendly people? Yes.

Do you buy your friends gifts? I try to when I can 

What was the last thing you plugged in? My phone to the charger.

How old are you? 29

What color headphones do you own? They’re black.

Have you ever shopped on Urban Outfitters? No, just a reminder than I'm fat

Where do you buy the majority of your clothing? Amazon, Goodwill

Would you rather wear necklaces or earrings? Necklaces

Do you consider yourself fortunate? Very

Do you enjoy watching fights? Nooo.

Have you ever been in a physical fight? No way

Do you tend to talk badly about people? I try not to but everyone is guilty of that

Where are your parents as of now? Watching tv in the tv room

Does your computer cooperate most of the time? I literally just bought it so yes haha

Does your family have any cheesy traditions? Kind of

When did you last go to a book store? Gosh it’s been a while!

What’s the closest book store where you live? Barnes & Noble.  

How much money do you have on you right now? On hand, $20.

Favorite personal feature? my hair and my lips

Are you wearing make up at the moment? Nope.

Favorite television channel? Bravo, E!, ID, HBO

Describe any piercings or tattoos you might have? 6 tattoos no piercings

Have you ever been fired from a job? INope

Are you currently losing a best friend? No.

Describe the worst day of your life: I’m good.

Do you play any video games? Not at the moment

Would you say you hate anyone? I feel hatred towards racists, homophobics, ect.

Do you think freckles are cute? Very cute!

Last time you went to the mall? Gosh its been a really long time

Name something that’s your favorite color: anything teal

Have you been to Red Lobster before? Yesssss. I want seafood

Do you judge by appearances? Anyone who tells you they don't to some degree is a fucking liar.

Do you follow a certain religion? No thank you

Who is your role model, if you had to choose? Im not really sure

Would you rather have nice hair or lips? Hair.

What are you most self conscious about? Pretty much my whole body

Do you have any family members who live out of town? Yeah.

Do you consider yourself short? Nope, I'm average height for a girl

What room are you in? Mine.

Hoodies or jackets? Hoodies.

Are you outside a lot? No not really. The sun doesn’t like my skin haha

Have you ever been dumped via text message? Nope

Do you like dreamcatchers? Not really

What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? I don’t have one.

Do you hate repetitive people and things? Depends on the situation

Do you think autocorrect is a blessing or curse? BOTH

Do you believe in any particular curses? No.

Ever play a Ouija board? Nope, my mom wouldn't let me growing up

What movie scares you the most? The Exorcist. I can watch the movie now no problem but it FUCKED up my childhood.

What was your bedtime as a child? 9. I remember watching Happy Days from 8-9

Reason why your favorite holiday is your favorite: Who doesn't love Christmastime?

Do you work with any close friends? I work with my baby daddy

Do you consider yourself spoiled? I would say in some way I'm probably spoiled

Do you listen to any country music? yes

Favorite high school teacher: I don’t specifically remember any high school teachers I liked. Probably my French teacher. He was super cool!

Do you ever get drunk? Of course. Can’t drink yet tho until after baby

Have you ever had highlights before? Nope

Favorite number: 7,10

Do you still sleep with any stuffed animals? Not anymore. I used to for a a long time 

 What is your biggest regret in life? Eh I've got a few

Would you say you think you have a mental disorder of some kind? Depression/anxiety. Ive taken meds for it 

Are you normally an independent person? I like to think myself as independent but my boyfriend sure takes care of me. I dunno what id do without him

Do you have any paintings? a few

What is one clothing fad you wish never existed? anything from the early 2000s haha

Do you like to be organized? Do I like it? Yes. Am I organized? NO

Have you ever failed a class before? oh yes

Ever been judged because of your weight? All the time. Not so much as an adult tho

What is your favorite breakfast cereal? The sugary bad ones, ha.

Ever had a wish come true? Nope

Do you regret meeting any of your exes? No way

Do you own any coloring books? Yes haha those adult ones

What’s the meanest thing someone’s called you? I can’t think of anything specific. Probably fat

Have you ever bullied someone? I likely have, unfortunately :(

Do you ever watch Lifetime? Only for the reality shows

Ever tried to intentionally sabotage someone’s grade? God no

Do you own any brown clothing? Hmmm I don’t think so

What color are your walls painted? White.

Last thing you drank: I’m drinking decaf coffee 

Have you ever seen a tornado in person? Noooo.

Do you have an inground pool at your house? Nope

What is the first digit of your phone number?  9

What’s the prettiest town you’ve been to? Anywhere in England

Do you tend to sleep a lot? yes and no. I’m taking sleeping meds but it’s hard for me to fall asleep

Silver or gold jewelry? Silver

Do you sometimes celebrate holidays early? Not usually. My boyfriends family Is out of state tho

Have you ever been in love? Yes.

What’s the best gift you’ve ever received? My unborn child

When was the last time you showered? Last night

Would you consider yourself attractive? Sometimes yes

Has anyone made you mad today? Nope

Favorite smell: Vanilla

Are you afraid of insects? I wouldn't say afraid

Do you have any children? I’ve got one cookin in the oven haha

If so, what are their names? I’ll tell you when I know the gender

Would ever consider having children in the future? MORE children? Lets see how traumatized this first one is haha

Have you ever lived on a farm? No.

Ever played any sports? Oh yes, played soccer till I was 18 

Do both of your parents have jobs? They're both retired from jobs they were at for 40+ years

Where is the best place you’ve been on vacation to? Its a tie between South Africa, London and Colorado

Are you afraid people won’t accept you? Not anymore. Being an adult means getting over that haha

Are you, for the most part, an honest person? I try to be

Did you make prank phone calls as a child? oh yes!

Do you like to make donations? Yeah.

What is your current ringtone? Just the standard apple ringtone

Meet anyone from your past lately? No.

Have you ever called a teen suicide line? No.

Have you ever caught something on fire? Not that I can think of

Ever been obsessed with a show? Ive been obsessed with many shows

What type of perfume or cologne do you use? English Laundry Signature

What’s the last book you read? The book that Ted Bundys girlfriend wrote

Dream career: Zooologist

Have you ever climbed a mountain before? Yes, in Colorado

At what age do you plan to get married? Not sure, we aren't in a rush to marry

Ever been in a car accident? Yes, three