#how to get pink mac n cheese

[personapeters]

✰ 𝐛𝐟!𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐱 𝐩𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞!𝐠𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

— rich boyfriend rafe and his whole heartedly pogue girlfriend

rating: sfw — cw: none

— boyfriend!rafe who… actually gets annoyed when you spend your money instead of his: “look, baby, i know you can but why when i’m literally throwing my card at you?” he questioned. “i’m not taking it, rafe,” you rebutted. “yeah? okay, don’t,” he mumbled, casually dropping a banded stack of cash onto your lap.

— boyfriend!rafe who… absolutely judged a book by it’s cover when you first met, knowing you were from a side of town he didn’t favor, but your beauty was something he couldn’t ignore. though, his outlook barely shifted; technically, not all pogues were trash, but he considered you to be the one and only exception.

— boyfriend!rafe who… is used to getting what he wants, so he was highly taken aback when you declined his first offer to go out. it was new and completely foreign, but it only made him want you even more — he’s always had a desire to obtain the ‘unobtainable’

— boyfriend!rafe who… caught so much shit from topper and kelce when they found out about his relationship with a pogue; so much so that rafe almost fought them over it, telling them to ‘get the fuck over it’ and to never speak on you again.

— boyfriend!rafe who… on occasion would reluctantly let your pogue friends go out on his yacht with the two of you for the day, which ultimately would end with him dropping them off an hour (or four) early. he wants them miles away from his pristine boat but loves how happy you look when you were all together.

— boyfriend!rafe who… hears you mention liking something once and makes sure it’s in your hands before the following day ends. they were always simple things like a cute t-shirt or sunglasses, which, to him, were so cheap and mundane that he found it rather adorable when you’d cherish them like literal gold.

— boyfriend!rafe who… isn’t too fond of where you live — your house being small, somewhat falling apart, and overall something far below rafe’s standards. he wishes you’d take him up on his offer to simply get you an apartment on his side of town: “okay, but it’d be so much better for you… and you’d be closer to me,” he mumbled, a small smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips.

— boyfriend!rafe who… takes you riding on his dirt bike to go sightseeing across figure eight, often taking the long way home just to feel your arms wrapped around his waist for just a little longer. you once asked if you could drive it, which would have been your first time, to which he immediately said, “fuck no, what — you tryin’ to break your neck? no.”

— boyfriend!rafe who… tried his first ever boxed mac and cheese with you, as random as it was, after you insisted it’s the greatest inexpensive food on earth; him beforehand saying, “what? y/n, that’s fucking powder…” but after he tried a bite of yours, he reluctantly said, “it’s not that bad… i might see the appeal.”

— boyfriend!rafe who… gives you ‘ultimatums’ when buying you clothes (although, you always insist you don’t need them), saying he’ll get you whatever you want as long as you try on some of his picks first. he would have gotten whatever you wanted regardless, he just liked seeing you model for him, which, secretly, you knew.

— boyfriend!rafe who… buys you extremely expensive jewelry and lies about the price, saying it’s a hundred times cheaper than it is to avoid you trying to give it back. he enjoys watching the dainty bracelet on your wrist or gold studs in your ears glint in the sunlight, knowing that you’re clueless on that fact that they’re the nicest money could buy — he needs only the best for his girl.

— boyfriend!rafe who… truly hated physical touch until you showed him it could be gentle — that it could be sweet, and warm, and kind, and didn’t have to leave him bloody or sore. he loves when you run your nails gingerly across his scalp or hold his hand in your lap, twisting absentmindedly at the rings adorning his long fingers; a type of touch (and love) he’d never felt before

— boyfriend!rafe who… craves your validation, no matter how big or small. he just needs to hear that he did something right, something good, something you’re proud of. he wants to hear you tell him he did a great job at making you dinner or picking out a dress for your spontaneous outings — your approval means so much more to him than you’d ever know.

— boyfriend!rafe who… uses his high status to (begrudgingly) help your pogue friends get out of whatever trouble they land themselves into, knowing it means alot to you and takes a weight off your shoulders: “m’doing this for you, alright? not them, you.”

— boyfriend!rafe who… is pretty heavy on pda. he doesn’t care whose watching when he lazily drapes a possessive arm around your shoulders, or when he kisses you messily with full force; whether it be a kook or pogue witnessing his shameless affections, he didn’t care — who’d dare to say something about it?

 personapeters 2024 — all rights reserved • masterlist

[bengals-barnesbabe]

There’s Something You Should Know

Pair: Dad!Joe Burrow x OC , Dad!Joe Burrow x ExFianćee!Reader

Desc: Joe’s new girlfriend is in for a big surprise when she drops by unexpectedly.

TW: Jealousy, Toxic Gf, talks of divorce, childhood trauma

a/n: just a little idea I had and worked on for 2 weeks :)

Main Masterlist

WC: 4.9k

┊┊┊┊ ➶ 𓆉｡˚ ✧

August weekends are some of Joe’s favorites, not because he goes out with friends or showers his girlfriend with the attention she desires. No, he loves days like this. Days where his living room doesn’t stay clean for more than a few hours, mornings filled with cute giggles and sticky-syrupy little fingers, and nights controlled by a little girl with beautiful hazel brown eyes and a head full of dark tight curls, who picks the same bedtime story every night. These are his favorite moments.

Like now as he picks up the pink and purple lego sets off his living room floor while his little girl is off playing with some other toys in her playroom. From down the hall, he can hear all the make-believe scenarios the stuffies are going through. Currently, Who Dey the tiger and Joey the kangaroo were shopping for skirts but there was only one pink sparkly one left, it was a heavy debacle that Joe couldn't help but chuckle at while putting away the rest of the legos. 

Elliana, or Ellie for short, is the no doubt most important person (albeit little person) in his life. From the day she was born, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his little girl. Now at 4 years old, the bubbly and charismatic girl is taking in some of his interests, hence the immense collection of Lego sets that decorate his home. Sure this hobby came back to bite him in the rear when he would fall to victim of said legos by stepping on them, but the time they spent together just playing around was worth all the lego injuries in the world. But they also have house slippers now, to protect both of their feet.

Joe moved to tidy up the kitchen after double checking that all legos were in their rightful spots, not that he was actually going to count every single lego. To prepare for his 4 day weekend with Ellie, he made sure to restock on all her favorite meals and snacks but also ingredients to make the Bengals-themed cookies that she hadn’t stop talking about since she saw them on a commercial for a grocery store they don’t even have in Ohio. Joe wasn’t much of a baker, he only began cooking real meals when Ellie started staying over for multiple nights. Give him a box of Kraft Mac N Cheese and some dino nuggets and he’d turn it gourmet for his daughter, but for now that’s as far as he could go. So he called in reinforcements for this mission.

*ding dong*

His saving grace, Ja’Marr Chase. Joe was forever grateful to have a best friend that loved and cared for his daughter like she was his own. Ja’Marr was a great uncle and Ellie thought so too.

“Daddy, daddy! It’s Uncle Marr, he’s here to make cookies!” He smiles as the squeaky voiced girl comes running down the hall. Before she passes the kitchen, he sneakily pulls her into his arms before she could notice him. “Daddy!”

“What did I say about running in the house? I know you’re excited but you might fall and hurt yourself and that would make daddy really sad.” He lightly scolds bending down to her height.

“I’m sorry daddy. No more running.” Ellie cutely nods and places her small hands on his cheeks to lift his faux frown.  A grin quickly returns to his face and he kisses her forehead. 

“That’s my good girl, how about you go wash your hands so you and Uncle Marr can get started?” Her face beams as she wraps her arms around his neck. He returns the hug almost as tightly to take in the warm sense of comfort that having her in his arms brings. His arms could probably wrap around the young girl twice, but the contentment of having her little ones squeezing onto him so tightly is a feelings he never wants to forget. When she finally lets go, she kisses his cheek then skips down the hall in her fluffy pink slippers.

The door bell ringing again brings Joe back to his full height, but his brows furrow when he doesn’t hear his friend do his usual call out. ‘He’s probably on the phone.’ He thinks walking over to front door. He opens the door wide with a smile to greet one of his best friends, but gets replaced with his eyes widening and mouth dropping in shock.

“Hi babe!” 

Joe blinks then narrows the door’s opening to only fit half his body. “What are you doing here?” He asks the woman he’s been seeing for 6 months.

“I thought we could spend some time together. I know you said you’d be busy this weekend, but you’re busy every weekend. But since you’re actually home, we could watch a movie or something.” She smiles trying to peak inside. “Are you going to invite me in?”

Joe can hear the faucet in the first floor bathroom turn off and another car pull into his driveway. He looks behind him and zeroes in on every detail in his house that screams ‘this is my little princess’ castle’ then turns back to his curious girlfriend. “Um, now’s not a great time Kate.”

The short brunette’s jaw clenches and just as she’s about to respond, Ja’Marr walks up behind her. “Wow- so what, Saturdays are for the boys?” She barks. Actually they’re for the girls, little girls.

“Kate-

Loud giggles erupt from behind him. “UNCLE MARR! Daddy he’s right there I see him!” 

His teammate breaks out in a smile and waves to Ellie. “Hey babygirl.” Ja’Marr excuses himself from behind the woman and Joe lets him in the house.

Kate stands in front of him now dumbfounded. “You have a daughter?”

When Joe met Katelyn, he hadn’t had a long term girlfriend in a while, not since you. So he didn’t have to introduce anyone to his daughter. His team already knew her, his friends were great with her and she had a mom and dad who would do anything for her. Joe didn’t even feel like dating after your engagement ended two years ago. He had some hookups here and there, but getting into a relationship was not on his mind. Funnily that’s how this ‘relationship’ started, she was just someone he could call and was cool about it. Then he took her out to dinner to test the waters and half a year later he’s here.

When you broke up, you and Joe agreed not introduce your daughter to anybody without the other’s consent. You both wanted to make sure that she was your priority and her safety always came first. Then Joe implemented the rule to not introduce Elliana to romantic interests until at least 9 months into the relationship, he said it was him being protective but it was also so he didn’t have to see you without anyone else until it was serious. You also didn’t broadcast your daughter to the world like other parents, so not many knew that he did have a daughter unless they watched his every move. 

So long story short, Katelyn did not know.

“We should talk.” He said as she shoved his body to the side and stomped into his home. “I guess I deserve that.” He shook his head and shut the door.

Thankfully, the kitchen and the living room were a decent distance from each other so when she plopped down on the farthest end of the sofa, he could relax knowing Ellie wouldn’t hear any distinct words the woman might start throwing his way. Kate sat facing the blank tv screen, he took the spot in front of her so he could still see some of the movements in the kitchen through a wall cut out.

“Listen Kate.”

“No me first.” She cuts him off with a hand in front of his face. He just nods and allows her to speak. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is she actually yours? Where’s her mother? How come no one knows about her? Why didn’t you fucking tell me? I thought I was your girlfriend, do I mean nothing to you? Who keeps this kind of giant fucking secret? Fucking talk!” She huffs.

“I was letting you go off- whatever. Yes, Elliana is mine. She just looks exactly like her mother” He mumbles the last part, combing his fingers through his hair, a nervous tick he’s had since he was little.

“She’s 4 and I have dual custody over her, so I mostly get her during the weekends. I didn’t tell you because her mother and I have an arrangement and I would have to talk to her about it first. Her mom lives here- well not here here, she lives in the city. You know I don’t like the attention the spotlight gives so it was easy for us to decide to leave her out of it as much as possible. I guess was going to tell you at some point.”

“What do you mean, you guess? I’m your girlfriend! Don’t you think I have the right to know that the guy I’m seeing has a kid?” She crosses her arms red faced.

“Calm down, we haven’t been seeing each other that long. We were never that serious.” 

“Of course not, every time I want to spend time with you there’s a new excuse. Oh you have a game, or practice that evidently takes all fucking day. Maybe you’re hiding me because there’s someone else.”

“I promise the only other girl in my life right now is my daughter. And everything you just said is a valid excuse, I have a job and child that require all my attention.”

“Why can’t she just stay with her mother? Do you have this stupid arrangement so she can come by and give you what you’ve been missing? I bet you’ve been fucking her this whole time.”

Joe scoffs, her words starting to make his blood boil. “Katelyn, what do you not understand about us co-parenting our daughter? I barely have time to spend with you, so what makes you think I have time to cheat? If you have a problem with me being a father, then you should leave.”

“I don’t have a problem with you being a dad, I have a problem with you not talking about your ex. What, was she so special that it hurts to talk about her? Was she the one, Joe? What exactly is your relationship like with her now?”

“I told you, we co parent. There’s nothing going on with me and her mother, that’s all in the past. Can we stop talking about her now, she’s not going to just pop up out of nowhere?” He rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not convinced, you’d only hide her if there was still something between you.” 

“Yea her name is Elliana, the four year old making cookies in my kitchen right now.”

Before Katelyn can come back with another complaint, the doorbell rings, again. Joe sighs and looks out the window to see another very familiar car. Spoke too soon Joe.

He opens the door to see another one of his close teammates and the very woman he was just talking about. 

“Tee, Y/n what are you doing here?” His eyes lazily flicker between the pair and you send him a sheepish smile.

“Oh you know, we were just in the neighborhood.” Tee nods very nonchalantly. You nudge his side with a chuckle.

“I got a 911 call from Ellie, she said there was an emergency.” 

“Really?” He starts to pat down his pockets and realizes his phone is missing. He turns around and spots a smiling little girl with two long braids neatly done with purple bows in her hair. “Ellie…”

“Yes daddy.”

“Did you call mommy with my phone without telling me?” 

“Yep!”

You stop the laugh from bursting out your mouth when he sends you a pointed look. Taking that as a sign to go ‘confront’ your daughter. “Elliana why did you call me saying there was an emergency?

“There is an emergency momma! Uncle Jay is eating all the cookies!” Ja’Marr turns around shocked at his little partner. 

“Ellie, what did I tell you about snitches?”

“Snitches get stitches.” She relays matter factly. Joe shakes his head in confusion because clearly he wasn’t aware she knew about snitches yet. While you chuckle and run in to snatch up your girl.

“Ellie what did I tell you about taking advice from Uncle J?” You ask placing her on the counter.

“You said to tell you when he teaches me something new. He just did momma, see I told you!”

“Wow, Joe see what your friends have done to my sweet little girl.” She giggles wrapping her arms around your neck.

“They’re your friends too. How is it my fault, I had no idea?”

“There’s your answer.” You smirk. “Now Ms. Ellie Dae Burrow, is there any other emergency I need to know about?”

Freeing herself from your grasp she nods her head. “We don’t know how to ice cookies mommy.” Then takes your face in her hands and turns you towards the powdered sugar mess next to her baking buddy.

“Ellie, did you touch the cookies before touching mommy’s face?”

“Um yes?”

“Did you wash your hands after touching the cookies?” The young girl looks at her flour caked hands curiously. 

“No mommy.”

“Remember what I said about touching your toys with dirty hands?” Ellie nods her head. “Well that goes for people too, cause now I’m covered in flour.”

“Oh, sorry mommy. I’ll go wash my hands now.”

You go off to get washed up then Ellie returns to the kitchen to continue helping with the cookies while you join Joe in the living room.

“I hope you guys didn’t have anything planned, Ellie clearly has a mind of her own.” Joe jokes with the couple.

“Not much, we were just going to pick up some lunch and maybe catch a movie.” Tee shrugs.

“That’s what we were going to do, how funny.” Kate perks up with hidden mischief in her eyes. This is when you realize you have no clue where this woman came from nor who she is. 

“Joe?”

“Oh how rude of me. I’m Katelyn, Joe’s girlfriend and I assume you’re his baby mama.” She fake smiles holding her hand out.

The eyes of the men in the room widen at her bold choice of words. You smirk and shake the woman’s hand. “Yep, that’s me. The mother of his only child, you must know how great of a dad he is right? Whenever he has any time off, he’s always picking her up or coming over to see her. Truly father of the decade and she isn’t even 5 yet.”

Tee sits next the father hiding his face in his hands and chuckles. “I bet this isn’t how you wanted this to go.” He whispers to him. Joe just groans in his hands.

“Well, you should have a seat.” Kate invites.

“Oh I will, thank you for the hospitality in the house that my ex fiance asked me my opinion on over a year ago.” You grin and sit on the other side of Tee.

Katelyn’s kind demeanor shifts with a fake smile wide on her cheeks as she sits next to Joe. “So why’d you break up?”

“We are not starting here!” Joe’s eyes go wide and he straightens up. “Ask anything else please.”

“Joseph, your girlfriend wants to know why we’re not married right now. Why don’t you tell her?” You say forgetting how the whole thing happened for a bit. Thankfully those cherished memories come floating back to your mind and you hoped he decided to change the subject to cover your mishap.

“You just met, aren’t you supposed to be doing the making sure she’s safe for Ellie to be around thing?” You let out a muted sigh before replying.

“Oh please, and you haven’t?”

“No.” He mutters.

Your face hardens as you kiss your teth. “You let this woman around my daughter without screening her first? Joseph what the hell?”

He throws his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t think it was going to last this long, I wasn’t thinking about it.”

“Then why is she here?” You question turning your body completely towards him.

“Your guess is as good as mine!”

Katelyn scoffs, “excuse me, I’m sitting right here!”

“Unfortunately we see that too. How long have you been together anyway?” You hope that their explanation has to do with the restrictions you came up with to keep your daughter safe.

“7 mont-

“6 months- They say at the same time.

“Damn, this is awkward. I’m gonna go.” Tee announces. “I’ll text you.” Then he leaves.

“Looks like that didn’t last, maybe that’s why Joe left you. You attract drama everywhere you go.” Joe grimaces at her just wanting her to stop talking.

“Oh no hun, I left him. Not like it’s any of your damn business cause you don’t know me or him that well either. But let me guess, he told you he was busy but you showed up anyway hoping he’d let you in and give you whatever you want. I wouldn’t stress about him not making enough time for you, there’s a lot of worst ways he could be treating you. Just remember that at the end of the day, I’m that little girl’s mom and he’s her dad. I’ll always have a key in the door, when you won’t even get to see the open house.” Then you got up and went to the kitchen. Joe watched in amusement as Katelyn seethed. Then peaked behind him to catch a glimpse of you and your daughter baking together.

“You need to talk to her, she needs to know that I’m your future and she needs to make room.” Joe rolls his eyes.

“She’s right. They’re my past, present and my future. You were just a distraction and now I don’t need you anymore. I’m going to have to ask you need to leave my daughter’s house.” 

She shakes her head. “Joe, we can have our own family. You don’t need them. I can do that for you.”

“Katelyn I want them, not you. It’s time for you to go.” He stands and walks over to the door.

“You’re going to miss me and regret this, but I wont open the door for you. When you want me back I’ll have someone way better than you. Please don’t do this, don’t break up with me.” Rolling his eyes at the quick change in behavior he unlocks the door for her.

“Joey, I thought we were having fun. You don’t want to throw that away do you?” She asks as a final strand of hope glistens in her eyes.

Joe sighs, “it was fun, but I’d rather play with flower shop legos and bake cookies.”

“Fuck you Joe!” She stomps out with expletives shooting from her mouth. 

⍣ ೋ

“Daddy was your friend crying because you hurt her feelings?” Ellie asks with frosting covering her mouth when he arrives in the kitchen. He picks her up and kisses her sugary cheeks.

“No bub, she hurt her own feelings.” 

“Joey hurt my feelings when left to join the circus.” She pouts talking about her stuffie and licking her sticky fingers.

“Are you eating the icing before we can put it on the cookies?” He asks the orange dye covered girl.

“Nyooo.” She chuckles.

“What are we going to do with you?”

“Mommy said we’re all going to the park to feed the ducks.” She smiles. You turn around with wide eyes and an amused smirk, halting your current task of making more orange frosting.

“I did not say that. Ellie Dae why are you telling your father stories?”

“I think she wants to go feed the ducks.” Ja’Marr snorts while eating some of the cookie dough.

“Uncle Marrrr, you can’t eat more cookies! It’s for the ducks.”

“Ellie ducks don’t eat cookies.” Joe chuckles putting her on a part of the counter that’s not covered in sugar.

“Kaia said they do.” Your daughter yawns mentioning your next door neighbor’s teenage daughter that likes to babysit her.

“Well you’re going to have to ask Kaia where she found the cookies made for ducks.” Glancing over at the oven clock you hum realizing its 2pm. Naptime. Looking back over at your ex, you watch him wrap his arms around your daughter as her eyelids struggle to stay open. “Joe.” You whisper. He looks up at you then the time and nods.

“Come on babygirl, let’s go upstairs.” She whines as he lifts her, but still wraps her arms around his neck.

“But daddy, I’m not tired. Cookies.” She yawns laying her head on his chest. He smiles and kisses her head.

“I promise the cookies will be there when you wake up, and maybe we’ll even take some to the ducks.” You can’t help but smile as the pair climb the staircase up to her room. You always knew Joe would be a great father, especially when the you were surprised by the idea of having a baby so young and so early in your relationship. But he only stepped up in ways you couldn't have imagined, watching him become a father felt like one of life’s greatest privileges. It’s one of the things you love loved about him. Joe’s caring nature was unlike any other, in those 4 years together you’d never felt so loved and cherished by anyone like him.

Turning around to go back to your icing duties, you’re faced with a smirking Ja’Marr Chase. “What?”

“You’re ridiculous.” He chuckles setting a timer for the cookies that you now notice are in the oven. 

“I don’t understand.”

“You look at him the same way he looks at you, which is the exact same way when you were engaged. You just need to put the ring back on and plan the damn wedding at this point. I mean he broke up with his fling for you.”

You just shake your head at his nonsense, there was no way you and Joe would ever get back together after how it ended- after how you ended it. “No, I’m with Tee. They just had a mild disagreement, the second Ellie comes home with me he’ll be calling her back over.”

“You’re fucking with me right?” He scoffs. “You and Tee are not together.”

“How would you know?”

“He texted me the minute you got here. The only reason you two were out together was because we’re all still friends. Don’t try and bullshit me. You’ve been trying to make Joe jealous for weeks.”

“I have not, lower your voice. If you think he would ever take me back after the shit I said that night, then you’re delusional. I already fucked up with Joe.”

“But you want him to though.” He tilts his head with a soft smile. “I bet you still have the ring on you.” Your eyes go straight to the floor.

“You didn’t give it back because he wouldn’t take it. You can’t put it away because of who it reminds you of and you won’t sell it because you still care. In fact Ellie said you put it on a necklace and kept it in the smallest pocket of your purse.” When you look up, he’s somehow produced the same ring Joe proposed to you with on that beach date when Ellie was 8 months old.

“She really is a little blabber mouth.” You sniffle taking the chain.

“She’s smart and a thief. She showed it to me after you went to go clean your face. She knows how much it means to you and whether she understands it or not, she wants her mom and dad back together.”

“Oh please, this is the same little girl that wants to feed ducks sugar cookies.”

“All I’m saying is you should think about why you’re still carrying that nice ass ring around and talk to him. Alright I’m gonna head out, you got this right?” You nod and share a friendly hug.

“Remember what I said.” He says as the front door opens then shuts.

You lean over the counter with your hands on your face and let out a groan. There’s no possible way for Joe to ever take you back. You don’t even know why you still carry the ring around, but somehow leaving the house without it makes you feel untethered to reality.

“I doubt the cookies are that bad.” You gasp startled by the man leaning on the entryway to the kitchen.

“Goodness, Joe.” Your right hand covers your eyes while still clutching the gold chain. 

“Wow,” you drop your hand remembering what you were holding. “That’s something I haven’t seen in a while.”

“Yea- um. I was having it cleaned.” You bite the inside of your lip, then replace it with a pout when his face tells you he knows the full story. “Joe-

“Put it on.”

“Listen- wait what?”

You want to believe he’s joking, but the look in his eyes is all seriousness. “I want you to put the ring back on.”

“I can’t, not after the way I ended things. It wouldn’t be right.”

“You can, because I want you to. I need you to put the ring on.”

“Joe there’s something you should know.”

He sighs and takes the chain from you. “I know you and Tee hooked up once, I’m still debating on if I need to sucker punch him for it.” Then unclasps the chain and releases the 7 karat diamond into his hand. “I know that we spent the last 2 years trying to forget everything that went down between us only to remind each other every weekend when Ellie is dropped off.” He begins to fiddle with the ring between his fingers. “I also know that nothing you said that night was true.”

You gulp locking eyes with the man you’ve always wanted to call your husband. “Joe.”

“On April 10th, your mom called you and said ‘never get married’ because she had finalized her divorce with your father after spending 25 years in an unhappy marriage, that without a doubt gave you enough trauma in itself. April 11th, I came home from a night out where I drank way too much and reminded you of a part of your childhood you tried to run away from, which is something I’m extremely sorry for. April 12th, we spent the entire day arguing about the dumbest shit because I couldn’t see the pain you were harboring. Then you said ‘I can’t spend the rest of my life with a man that doesn’t care how he comes home to his family. I won’t let you run me into the mud like he did to her, I want to be happy. I can’t marry you.’ And took your ring off.” You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your face as he recalls the last night you spent together as a couple. A night you’ve regretted since it happened.

“Joey, don’t let me do this to you. You don’t deserve this, you could do so much better better than a damaged bitch with trust issues.” With one hand he wipes your tears and with the other he takes your left hand. “Joe think about this.”

“I think there’s something you should know.” He repeats your words with a more lighthearted tone, then gets down on one knee. 

‘There’s no way, no way. Nope, he’s not doing this.’ You echo to yourself while shaking your head.

“I spent two years thinking about this. Two years driving back and forth so we could have equal time with our little girl. Two years of wondering if I’d ever have you back in my arms the way I dream of at night. Even spent one in this house thinking about how hollow it feels without you living in it. I bought it for you, so we could raise our family here together. I know this probably won’t top the first one and I don’t have a new ring yet.” He winks causing another wave of tears to fall, this time happy tears. 

“I can’t see myself happier with anyone except this damaged woman in front of me with trust issues. Shit I’m not that happy now, cause every time I look in our little girl’s eyes all I see is her beautiful mother. She’s a constant reminder of the woman I miss more than anything. I thought we could do this co-parenting thing and stay friends so Ellie could have a happy childhood, but I spend more time with you than I do without you. I don’t want to wake up with anyone else in my bed that isn’t the woman right in front of me. And I’m thanking Elliana for bringing you here, because I need you. I want you back more than anything in the world.” 

His voice starts to tremble. “I’d step on a million legos for you, bake and burn a thousand dinners for you, miss hundreds of games for you- fucking anything. Anything you want, it’s yours. Just say yes.” 

You can feel the way your heart breaks for him, just proving how much you don’t deserve him. “I can’t.” 

“Why not?”

You can’t look him in the eye and break him again. You try to suck in the sob but there’s no use.

“I’m pregnant with Tee’s baby.”

.

.

.

SIKE

.

.

.

i'm sorry that was childish, don’t hate me lol here’s the real ending

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

“I can’t,” You giggle when his pout deepens. “You haven’t asked the question yet.”

A bright smile breaks out on his face as he sighs in relief. “You need to stop scaring me. Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes I’ll marry you, Joey. I'll marry you a hundred times if I have to.” You beam as he slips the ring back in its rightful spot then stands and pulls you into the most passionate kiss. 

After two years, you’re back in the arms you love, felt the most comfortable and cherished in. You feel so lucky to have found a man, a fiance so caring, thoughtful, and understanding. Lucky that every time you pushed him away, he just pulled you in harder. And you can’t wait to finally marry him and give him everything he’s ever wanted. Including a bigger family.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

so any critiques, comments, concerns. i'm open to any and everything🫶🏾 oh and don't forget to reblog for more :)

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Our little biscuit

Pairing: Juju Watkins x Wife!Reader

Fandom: Women’s College Basketball

Summary: Juju and you embrace each stage of pregnancy with love, care, courtside moments, and puppy training—awaiting baby Monica’s arrival.

A/N: inspired by @shikaizer and @yailtsv

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @unknowgirlypop , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani ,

If you told me a few years ago I’d be married to Juju Watkins, pregnant, and courtside at every one of her games with our Frenchie at my feet like he’s head of security—I would’ve laughed you out the room.

But now? That’s just Tuesday.

Month 1 – The Test and the Start of Forever

It was a random Wednesday. I’d been feeling weird for days—nausea, sleepy as hell, randomly crying over an oatmeal commercial. I finally took a test, expecting nothing.

Two pink lines.

Two.

I sat on the edge of the tub in complete silence, heart racing. Deuce, our spoiled little Frenchie, sat in front of me like a furry, judgmental therapist.

He tilted his head like he already knew. Like, “So… when were you gonna tell me I’m getting demoted?”

When Juju came home from practice, sweaty in her USC hoodie, her smile dropped the moment she saw my face.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” she asked, crossing the living room in two steps.

I held out the test with shaky fingers.

She stared at it. Then me. Then back at it.

Then she smiled. Slow. Bright. The kind that made my knees weak even now.

“Yo… yo. Are we having a baby right now?”

I nodded, lip trembling. “Yeah.”

She swept me into her arms, spinning me around while Deuce barked like he wanted in on the excitement. “Oh my God! Babe—we’re having a baby?! Like for real?!”

She put a hand on my stomach, eyes soft. “You’re already the best mom.”

“And you’re gonna be annoying as hell,” I teased, tears in my eyes.

“You love that about me,” she grinned.

Month 2 – The Name Before the Name

We hadn’t even hit the second trimester when Juju came in one night, holding a teddy bear and a tiny baby blanket she found at a boutique downtown.

“I already know what I’m calling her,” she said confidently.

I raised a brow. “Her?”

“She’s giving girl. I can feel it.”

“And what’s this name, oh wise one?”

She sat beside me and kissed my belly. “Biscuit.”

I blinked. “Biscuit.”

“Yup. Biscuits are warm, soft, and perfect. Just like our baby.”

I rolled my eyes. “You do know she’s not gonna let you call her that past age two, right?”

“She’ll deal.”

And so it began. Biscuit this. Biscuit that. “How’s Biscuit today?” “Did Biscuit enjoy that mac and cheese?” “Tell Biscuit I dropped 25 tonight just for her.”

Even Deuce started perking up when he heard it.

Month 3 – Game Time and VIP Treatment

“You got the best seat in the house,” Juju said, helping me into my courtside spot at Galen Center.

She wasn’t lying.

The seat had a whole orthopedic cushion on it. Custom-made armrests. A mini fan for hot flashes. Deuce had his own little mat underneath with his name embroidered on it like he was a VIP.

“I swear this dog lives better than most people,” I mumbled.

“He’s our first baby,” she smirked.

She kissed me before tip-off. “Don’t let Biscuit get too excited when I dunk on shorty tonight.”

“She’s kicking already. That’s your fault.”

I never missed a game. Not one. Juju made sure of that. No matter what.

And after every win, she ran over to kiss my belly like it was a trophy.

Month 5 – Deuce’s Big Promotion

The bump was getting real now. Juju had cleared out the guest room and was halfway through painting the nursery when she decided Deuce needed “formal training.”

She bought a realistic baby doll online. I thought it was a joke… until she started swaddling it.

“Deuce,” she said seriously, crouching down beside him. “This is Monica. Be gentle, okay?”

“You’re… you’re naming the doll already?” I asked, sipping my water.

She stood up and kissed my cheek. “I already know her name. Monica Jazlyn Watkins. Feels right, don’t it?”

It did.

Our little girl. Monica Jazlyn. Already loved beyond measure.

“Also, we’re not giving up ‘Biscuit.’ That’s forever.”

“I figured.”

Deuce sniffed the doll’s foot, looked unimpressed, then plopped down with a huff.

“He’s gonna need some adjusting,” I murmured.

“He’s got time,” Juju said. “We’ll all figure it out together.”

Month 6 – Baby First, Everything Else Second

People always said pregnancy is a lonely journey. But I never felt that once.

Juju made damn sure of it.

She cleared her whole schedule around every appointment, even when it meant skipping media interviews or rescheduling training sessions.

“She comes first,” she told her coach once on speakerphone. “My wife and my baby are the only priority.”

She rubbed my feet every night, no complaints. Brought home smoothies. Talked to my belly like it answered her back.

One night, I found her asleep on the floor of the nursery, paintbrush in hand, “Monica” sketched out in big letters across the wall.

I covered her with a blanket, kissed her forehead.

“You’re gonna be such a good mom,” I whispered.

Month 7 – Showered in Love

“You didn’t have to go all out,” I said, overwhelmed, standing in the middle of the baby shower she planned in secret.

It was on a rooftop. Decked out in soft pinks, warm neutrals, and gold accents. There was a onesie station. USC-themed cupcakes. A flower wall that said “Baby Biscuit” in cursive.

“I wanted to,” Juju smiled, coming up behind me and resting a hand on my bump. “You deserve this.”

She kissed my temple and stepped up to the mic.

“I’ve had trophies. Medals. Banners. But nothing compares to what we’re about to bring into this world. Monica Jazlyn… I love you more than every point I’ve ever scored. And to my wife? You’re my home. Always.”

Yeah… I cried. I wasn’t alone.

Month 8 – Bigger Belly, Bigger Love

Walking was hard. Sleeping was harder. I cried because I dropped a cookie once. Deuce followed me like I was his mission in life.

But Juju never made me feel like a burden.

She carried the groceries, picked out baby clothes, rubbed shea butter on my bump every night.

“Biscuit’s kicking,” I said one night.

Juju leaned down and whispered, “Go easy on your mama. She’s doing all the work.”

“She’s gonna be a baller, huh?” I smiled.

“Already got a better jump shot than me.”

Month 9 – The Wait and the Weight

“I feel like a planet,” I muttered, flopping onto the couch.

Juju, fully dressed for a press shoot, dropped her phone and came over. “You feel like the center of my universe. So technically… yeah.”

“You’re so corny.”

“You love it.”

Deuce rested his head on my thigh, paw protectively on my knee.

“She’s gonna be here soon,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Juju said, brushing my hair back. “And when she is, everything changes.”

“But we’re ready, right?”

“We’ve been ready.”

Birth Day – The World Stops

Contractions hit like a truck. We were in the car within ten minutes, Juju driving like the road owed her money, one hand on my knee the whole time.

Hours blurred together. Screams. Squeezes. Nurses. Then—

Then came the cry.

The loudest, strongest little cry I’d ever heard.

And just like that… she was here.

Monica Jazlyn Watkins. 7 lbs, 3 oz. Head full of curls. Already pouting like her mama.

“She’s perfect,” Juju whispered, pressing her forehead to mine. “You did it, baby.”

“She’s real,” I breathed, tears soaking my cheeks. “Our little Biscuit.”

They laid her on my chest, and Juju broke. Silent tears. Shaking shoulders.

“I’ve never loved anything more,” she said.

After – Home, Whole, Happy

We brought Monica home wrapped in a blanket with “Baby Biscuit” stitched into the corner. Deuce sniffed her gently, gave her one soft lick, and laid down right beside her bassinet like he’d been waiting his whole life to protect her.

Nights were long. Feedings were constant. Sleep was rare.

But Juju?

She was everything.

“I got the bottle,” she’d say at 3 a.m.

“You sleep, I’ll hold her.”

“Biscuit wants her dance show? Say less.”

She sang off-key lullabies, danced around the nursery like a fool, and cried every time Monica smiled in her direction.

At her first USC game, Monica wore tiny headphones and a jersey that said “Mommy’s #1 Fan.” Juju dropped 28 that night and pointed to us in the stands with pride in her eyes.

After, she kissed us both and whispered, “I play for y’all now.”

—

Now – A Forever Kind of Love

Every day with her feels like magic.

Watching Juju rock Monica to sleep while Deuce lays guard beside the crib, I realize something:

This? This is the best team Juju’s ever been on.

And I’m just grateful to be her co-captain.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[aeyn]

the simplicity of his love.

Softie!Megumi x Reader

summary: everyday life with Megumi

WARNINGS: downbad Megumi ꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱

Word count : 500 (I.... somehow wrote exactly 500 words...? I think essay writing's been starting to have it's toll on me (╥﹏╥)....)

a/n: I haven't posted in a few months, so please take this that i scrapped together in an hour as a apology. It somehow feels so much better than the one I spent hours on, though.....

I've been diagnosed with a few blood issues, so I've been in and out of the hospital for a while. I'm on more meds, but I'm now back to writing again....!!!! Thank you for your patience!!!!!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Despite the fact that he’s almost always busy, he still goes to the florists’ every month. He’s been there so much, in fact, that to make it easier for him, the old lady that worked there would always leave the flowers he always bought outside, so he wouldn’t need to trudge all over the store, trying to find those damned pink flowers you liked so much. 

He bids farewell to the old lady again with a curt nod, making sure to leave an extra big tip this time.

He gently plucks a single flower out from the bouquet and makes sure to drop it into a vase by his bed once he gets home so that he knows to buy you new flowers once the one in his vase starts to wilt. 

He won’t admit it, but whenever he starts to miss you, he gazes upon that singular stalk sitting in his blue vase. It starts to remind him more and more of you, the way that the flowers bloomed and even the way the flower smelled - you’re constantly plaguing his mind. 

He loves you, and he loves you so much.

You’re the only flower he cares for, the most beautiful, the most delicate,the most precious, your touch is like a heavenly blessing to him and your eyes have that soft feel to them.

He’d be lying if he said that it wasn’t starting to affect him. Your scent is starting to linger in his house, in his living room, on that book you’d grabbed absentmindedly while he was in the shower, on his pillows and sheets you had insisted “felt way softer”. He looks at you with that same soft gaze, one that was filled with love and respect.

He didn’t appear to others as a softie, because that was only for you to see. A special side of him that he had kept behind closed doors, doors that only you can open.

Period pain? He’s already shown up to your door, drenched from the rain, bags of painkillers, snacks and heating pads in hand. 

You’ve called him at 1am again, muttering something incomprehensible about your nightly cravings of mac and cheese? I know, he says over the phone, voice still groggy. He tells you about a whole bowl he left in the fridge while he was at your house. 

You got sick? He leaves behind everything that he had been doing, and rushes to your apartment with medicine from the pharmacy and homemade chicken noodle soup. He raises a spoonful of the soup and you swallow it all, nuzzling your face into his hand. He sighs, feeling how warm you are, but doesn’t protest. Everything is silent as he gently runs his fingers through your hair, watching it ripple like a waterfall. No words were being exchanged, but the concern in his eyes spoke more than words could’ve ever.

“Ughh. I love you so much.”

“....you’re just trying to stall from taking your medicine again, aren’t you…..?”

[withwritersblock]

More Hearts Than Mine-She Visits His Family in Michigan

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~ Author's Note: I started this on the 4th and then I gave up so this is all I got lmao Summary: she visits his family in Michigan Warnings: Swearing? I honestly don't remember Word Count: 3,131

It was the week of fourth of July and Luke had invited her to spend the fourth with his family in Michigan. It would be his parents and his brothers, so it wouldn’t be a huge group. Luke and Y/N were walking side by side, each dragging their carry ons  behind them. 

Luke shifted his gaze towards her, taking note of the small frown on her lips. “What’s wrong, Baby?” he asked as he used his free hand to rest on her lowerback. She took in a sharp breath.

“I think I need to go shopping when we get there,” she mumbled. His eyes squinted slightly, he chuckled. “I’m serious,” she said while laughing. 

“You have enough clothes for the trip,” he expressed, “But I’ll take you shopping. They have a lot of shops you’ll like,” he explained.

“Will they have swim suits safe for vacation with boyfriend’s family?” she asked with a teasing smirk on her lips. He chuckled, his cheeks pinking up. 

“I’m sure they are fine,” he mumbled, he shifted his gaze to see his dad waiting for them near the main entrance and exit of the Detroit airport. He leaned towards her, whispering into her ear, “Why don’t you show them to me later and I can be the judge?” he raised his eyebrows and a smirk toyed to his lips. She rolled her eyes playfully as they continued towards his father. 

Luke broke away from Y/N as he excitedly hugged his father. “Lukey!” his father let out excitedly.

“Dad, I saw you last week,” Luke let out smiling. He pulled away, excitedly reaching over to Y/N for a hug. Her eyes widened, shocked at the sudden attention. She accepted the hug excitedly. 

“I know but any chance I get to see my sons, I better be excited,” he said pulling away from Y/N. “How are you, Y/N?” his father asked. She smiled as Luke wrapped his arm around her waist.

“I’m doing good, I’m glad we got such an early flight,” she mumbled.

“Oh, me too,” his father said as he began guiding the pair out of the airport. 

The car ride back to the lake house went by faster than Luke was originally anticipating. They pulled into the driveway to see Ellen, Jack, and Quinn sitting outside on the front porch. Ellen excitedly stood up walking towards Y/N as she climbed out of the car. Luke took a hold of his bag as well as Y/N’s. “I’m so happy you’re here, Y/N. Come inside, let me show you around,” Ellen said as she guided her towards the entrance to the house. 

“What? We’re not allowed to say hi to our future sister-in-law?” Jack teased. Y/N’s eyes widened, a nervous laugh leaving her lips. Luke shook his head as he fought of the grin forming to his lips. 

Ellen continued guiding her inside. It was bigger and more beautiful than Luke described. “Oh wow,” Y/N let out as her eyes danced around. 

“This is the living room,” she explained as she pointed to the huge TV alongside the two couches that took up the large space. “The boys did a good job, right?” Ellen said excitedly as she pointed towards the kitchen area. “I’m not allowed to cook, Quinn does all the cooking,” 

“Really?” she said slightly shocked. The boys all entered the house, Luke was carrying both bags. “Maybe he can teach Luke to cook this summer,” she mumbled. Luke gasped dramatically. Ellen chuckled as they continued down the hallways towards Luke’s room. 

“I can cook better than you!” Luke shouted teasingly as he stumbled down towards the hallway. “She’s burnt Mac and Cheese before!” Luke offered as he followed them towards the room. They stepped inside, Luke placed the bags down before he faced his mom. She smiled towards her youngest boy, hugging him happily. 

“Now you be nice to Y/N,” Ellen mumbled as she pulled away from her son, “I’ll make sure Quinn gives him some pointers,” Ellen offered as she squeezed Y/N’s arm before she walked out of the room. 

Quinn appeared at the door shortly after his mother left, “We’re going to go get some groceries, Jack has a few meetings, so if you guys want to relax for a bit; we’ll go boating later,” 

Luke simply nodded as Quinn, polietly shut the door for the pair. Y/N smiled towards Luke. “This place is incredible,” she expressed. He nodded.

“Get used to it, you’ll be here a lot over the next summers,” he explained, reaching towards her wrapping his arms around her waist. He pulled her towards him, she rested her hands onto the base of his neck. 

“Oh will I now?” she asked teasingly. He nodded as he leaned towards her, kissing her. She pulled away, he pouted his lips as he reached his hand up pulling her face towards his once more. She returned the kiss for only a moment longer, “Later, Lukey,” she whispered before she slowly slipped away from his grasp.

“Right because I think I am getting a fashion show, right?” he asked in a hushed tone, in case there was wandering ears from his family. He watched her shyly smile as she slowly started unzipping her bag. Luke eagerly sat down in the small beanbag chair in the corner of his room.

“You have to close your eyes,” she offered as she slowly pulled out the bright pink bikini. She didn’t look when she packed her bikinis, she simply took a handful and tossed them into her bag.

“Really?” he asked, a grin to his lips. She nodded dramatically. He huffed as he tilted his head back, pulling the hat from his head. He placed it over his eyes, aiding in covering his gaze from her. 

“No peeking!” she teased. He laughed as he adjusted the hat on his face a little lower. 

She began tying the top, realizing how low cut this swimsuit looked. It definitely made her body look good but it was definitely too sexy for a week with his parents. She adjusted the matching bottoms, she spun around, looking in the mirror. Her body looked incredible with the bright pink barely covering her frame.

“Okay,” she mumbled, letting out a small breath. Luke excitedly lifted the hat away from his eyes, his eyes were open and wide. He bit his bottom lip fighting the grin forming to his lips. His cheeks instantly darkened to a shade of red. He held up a finger, spinning it. She smiled shyly as she slowly spun around showing the rest of the swimsuit.

“Yeah, you might be right,” he let out, with a huff of air. “You look really hot,” he muttered.

“See! I need to be cute, not sexy or whatever,” she pouted. He chuckled as he leaned forward, adjusting himself. 

“What other options do you have?” He asked, trying to be helpful. She sighed as she spun around, looking at the eight swimsuits on the bed. She didn’t entirely plan her outfits when Luke last minute invited her. 

In all honesty, the eight swimsuits were all pretty much the same style in different colors and patterns. He watched her lean forward slightly, the swimsuit was showing off her curves in the most beautiful way. 

He stood up, clearing his throat as he walked up beside her. He stared towards her options, a small grin on his lips. “I guess we’re going shopping,” he let out, a dry chuckle leaving his throat. She let out a long dramatic breath as she began collecting each piece of swimwear. “Hey, I thought I was getting a fashion show,” he said protectively, taking a hold of the dark blue set. He loved the way this color looked on her.

She laughed, “How about you help me pick out a few safer options when we go shopping,” she offered as she put the rest of the swimsuits back into her carry on bag. He pouted as he dropped the dark blue one into the carry on as well.

“I guess that’s fine,” he said as she turned to face him. She had a teasing smirk on her lips.

“You’re so dramatic,” she mumbled. His lips slowly curled up as he scanned her frame. He leaned down, lifting her up from her thighs and tossed her onto the bed. “Luke!” She let out while laughing. He climbed on top of her, his lips hovering over her own.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he mumbled as he brushed his lips against hers for only a moment before he fully kissed her. Her hand ran through his curls, his hair was a lot shorter than they have been in months. His lips slowly pulled away from her own as his lips started to kiss down her jaw, down her neck.

“Luke,” she mumbled out as she arched her back into him. “We have to get ready to go,” she mumbled out as she continued to run her fingers through his hair. He hummed against her skin. He slowly guided his lips back from her neck, towards her jaw, and back towards her lips. He connected their lips for only a moment before he reluctantly pulled away.

“Fine,” he let out dramatically. She laughed while rolling her eyes, he stood up from the bed. “I’ll let you get changed and we can take my mom’s car. I’ll text her to let her know,” he glanced down towards her, smiling for only a moment before he stepped out of the bedroom. His gaze was on his phone as he typed. 

~~~

It was only a ten minute drive towards the shops in town. It was all decorated in light pastel colors, it was gorgeous. Luke parked the car as close as he could towards the walkway of small boutiques and tiny souvenirs shops. Her eyes were wide as she admired each small entrance and the light green plastered everywhere. 

“Ready to go?” Luke asked as he pulled the keys from the ignition. She hummed as she opened the car door and stepped outside. He followed in pursuit, locking the car in the process as he adjusted the hat on his head. “This one right here has some stuff I think you’ll like,” he mumbled.

She smiled softly as they stepped inside. It was a beautiful shop, that sold mostly clothing. Many of the clothes were themed to their location in Michigan but it was still aesthetically cute. “Oh wow,” she mumbled as she instantly stopped at the first rack of clothes. Luke smiled politely towards the cashier who was also the owner. 

“How long is the family visiting this time?” the owner asked. Luke lit up as the owner spoke.

“We here for the week but my brothers and I will be back in a few weeks,” he explained. 

“And who’s this?” the owner pried, Y/N lifted her head from the rack of clothes; she was already eyeing the yellow sundress. 

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N, this is her first time coming to Michigan,” Luke explained, his cheeks pinking up. 

“I hope you guys have a good time then,” he said.

“Thank you, Michael,” Luke smiled towards him. Y/N pulled the dress out and held it to her body. Luke admired the soft smile on her lips. He watched her glance down towards the price tag, her entire demeaner faltering. “Get it,” Luke mumbled, delicately resting his hand onto her arm. 

“Luke,” she scolded quietly while shaking her head, “You are not paying for another thing while I am here,” she mumbled, placing it back onto the rack as she walked towards another collection. 

“You like the dress, I want you to get it,” he whispered into her ear as he stood behind her, watching her pick up different items. 

“You have spent way too much money on this trip and me already. We haven’t even been here for a full day yet,” she explained.

“There is never too much money spent on you, Darling, I will buy anything and everything you need,” he whispered into her ear, pressing his lips delicately to her jawline. 

She spun around, meeting his gaze. She frowned as she scanned the small cocky grin on his lips. “Just because you don’t know what to do with your money doesn’t mean you get to waste it all on me,” she expressed as she slowly slipped from his grasp, “Besides we came here for swimsuits, remember?” she offered as she wandered towards the shelves with different swimsuits. 

Luke chuckled slightly while shaking his head. She pulled out a handful of different bikinis and one pieces that she felt were safe enough. “Is there a fitting room?” she asked Luke, he nodded as he pointed towards the back room. She took a hold of his hand as they walked towards the small room together. 

A small bell rung as a handful of tourists stepped inside, a few were young children. She opened the fitting room door, walking inside. Luke tried to follow her but she delicately pushed him back. “Hey,” he let out teasingly. 

“You sit and I’ll show you each one,” she mumbled as she pointed to the tiny bench behind him.

“There is no way I’ll fit on this bench,” he protested. 

“Sit,” she said as she shut the door to the fitting room. He laughed nervously as he slowly sat down on the bench, he swore would break the second he sat down. His knees were practically held up to his chest. 

Luke kept his head down as he saw one of the young kids wearing a Redwings shirt. He wasn’t sure if the kid knew who he was, he still wanted to avoid the awkward encounter. 

It was only a few minutes before Y/N opened the door. She was wearing a navy two piece swimsuit with a more high waisted bottoms but still had a bit of a revealing top. It was better than the swimsuits she brought with.

Luke instantly smiled, tilting his head back against the wall as his eyes scanned her frame. She slowly spun in a circle as she showed off each inch of her body. “Safe and hot, a winner,” he mumbled. She rolled her eyes playfully as she brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. 

“You sure?” she asked. He nodded dramatically. 

For the next four swimsuits, Luke gave the same answer but it was the truth each time. She could wear anything and he would think it was attractive. 

She stepped out of the fitting room, in the original clothes she came in with. Luke pouted slightly, “No more?” he said sadly. She rolled her eyes playfully as she held out her hand. Her other one was holding three swimsuits.

“You still have the ones at the lakehouse you haven’t seen,” she whispered as they walked towards the counter, in the much more crowded shop.

“That is true,” he mumbled as he handed Michael is card to pay for the new clothing items. Y/N’s eyes widened as shes tared towards Luke frustratingly. “Don’t argue it,” he said with a teasing grin.

~~~

They were sitting on the boat together as Quinn continued to go around the lake in different patterns. Y/N was sitting at the back of the boat, beside Ellen, as Luke’s head was rested on her lap as he was laying in front of them. The sun was starting to go down, and they were all getting tired. Especially Luke. He refused to put on sunscreen and now he was starting to feel nauseous as his skin was pinking up. 

His arms were crossed over his chest as he kept his eyes shut, starting to doze off. Y/N kept running her fingers through his hair nonchalantly as Quinn started guiding the boat towards the house again. 

The rest of the family was talking, randomly. There was not a specific set of conversation. Quinn glanced behind him, seeing Luke half asleep on his girlfriend’s lap. He chuckled as he shifted his gaze back towards the lake. 

“He’s obsessed with her,” Quinn mumbled towards Jack. Jack began nodding dramatically. Ellen frowned slightly towards her older sons. Y/N dropped her head shyly, looking towards Luke. Cringing slightly at how pink his cheeks were getting. 

“Good, you’re supposed to be obsessed with your partner,” she defended, meeting Y/N’s gaze. “You should learn from your brother, you might be able to keep a girlfriend,” she said. The entire group started laughing. Luke eyes slowly opened as he chuckled, he tilted his head back, meeting Y/N’s gaze. She rolled her eyes playfully as she continued running her fingers through his curls.

“Who said I want a girlfriend?” Jack said while raising his eyebrows dramatically. 

“Oh my god,” Jim mumbled while rolling his eyes playfully.

“I had a long term girlfriend, way longer than Lukey,” Quinn countered.

“Where’s she now?” Luke muttered, a teasing grin to his lips. Quinn pursed his lips forward while nodding slowly.

“Got me there,” he muttered. The group starting laughing again. 

“Can you hurry and get us back to the house, my body fucking hurts,” Luke complained as he shut his eyes harshly, his lips fall into a pout; beggin for sympathy. 

“Oh please, and who’s fault is that?” Y/N said while she pressed her hand against his pink shoulder. His skin felt like fire. Ellen began to chuckle. Luke let out a huff of air.

“I don’t think we even have aloe,” Ellen let out. Luke’s eyes widened as he sat up slightly, staring towards his mom. “You should’ve listened to your girlfriend,” Ellen teased. 

“Yeah, probably,” he mumbled as he laid back down onto her lap. He tilted his head back, meeting her gaze. 

“Probably?” she asked teasingly. He rolled his eyes crossing his arms over his chest.

It took a few more minutes before Quinn put the boat to a stop and began tying it to the dock. Everyone started piling out of the boat one by one. Luke got off as he held out his hand for Y/N to help her off the boat. She gladly took his hand and stepped off, resting her hand onto his chest for stablity.

“Oh dude, it’s so bad,” Quinn started laughing as he stared towards Luke’s sunburn. Luke rolled his eyes playfully as he tugged his swim trunks lower slightly. The very red harsh line was dramatic and looked very painful. Jack started laughing with Quinn as they all started walking towards the house together.

“Suprisingly I’ve had worse,” Luke mumbled as he leaned towards Y/N and kissed her cheek briefly.

[forlorn-crows]

i dont know. i usually make mac n cheese with a wooden spoon. that's all you need to know about how we got here.

mountain/aurora impact play w/a kitchen utensil. okay? okay.

"Don't have to do it very hard for me to like it, big guy," Aurora says quietly, smoothing her hands up and down Mountain's chest. "Just a little bit. Make my ass a nice cherry red for you to drool over."

"F-fuck," Mountain slurs against her lipgloss-coated mouth. His dick twitches in further interest.

She slides the spoon into his hand at the same moment she slips her tongue into his mouth, warming him up to the feeling of wanting to use it on her. He's always keen for a nice spanking or two, but he's less enthusiastic of using things that could hurt a great deal more.

"Don't think too hard about it," Aurora assures. "I'm a tough girl." She arches over his lap, moving to kiss at his neck so he has a perfect view of her too-tiny skirt.

"Belial, that looks good on you," he rumbles. Placing an appreciative hand on one side of her ass and squeezing.

"It'll look better over your lap," Aurora giggles. She stands up, still kissing at him as she tugs under his knees to make him scoot forward, more off the edge of the bed. She knocks his legs apart just so, planting her hands on them and pulling back to look at him. Fluttering her lashes and biting her lip in a right tease.

Mountain weighs the wooden utensil in his hand, flipping it this way and that like one of his drumsticks. "You sure?"

"Mmn, don't you wanna hear my pretty noises, Mounty?"

Mountain smiles at her and tugs at the waistband of her skirt. "C'mere then, you little tease."

Aurora bounces happily and drapes her little body over his lap, hips resting on one leg, top of her chest and arms cradling the other, torso suspended between them. Mountain bites back a noise and rubs his hand over her lower back, grabbing a little at her skirt.

"So pretty," he compliments. He pulls up the fabric, bunching it around the base of her tail and baring her to the room and his hungry eyes. Aurora arches and wiggles over his thigh, and the way her ass jiggles makes his mouth water.

"Know you wanna, baby," she purrs. She tucks her face into her arms, turning her head so she can look up at him coquettishly. "Give it a tap."

So he does. Just a few cursory ones across her bare bottom, watching the way her skin raises with goosebumps. The spoon makes a quiet tap tap tap with each soft strike, almost like the plap plap of raindrops on a leaf.

Aurora smiles, humming her approval. "A little more," she pushes.

Mountain furrows his brow and adjusts his posture, leaning back slightly to get a better angle. His fingers tighten on the handle and he spanks her again. The tap turns into something firmer, enough to make her ass jiggle from the impact.

Aurora moans happily. "Yesss, just like that. Even harder," she grins, kicking her feet. Eager, even when her face has started to flush. "Like you hit your drums."

Mountain hits her on the other cheek, not too much harder. He's rewarded with a high-pitched whine that makes his stomach go hot. "Fuck," he mumbles. "You really like it, huh?"

"Love it," she groans. "Makes me all tingly." Aurora giggles, pushing her ass into the air a little further. "Do you like it?"

Another smack, this time with the top of the spoon, the concave side cupping against her skin with a louder sound. Her eyes flutter shut, and the hit wrings from her a perfect, soft moan.

"Beginning to," Mountain breathes. He rubs along the swell of her ass, which is already starting to get rosy. Teasing her just enough to make her shiver in his lap.

"Mount. More," she begs, almost pouting. Bright eyes looking up at him full of want and mischief in equal measure. Catching the look on his face, they narrow and crinkle as she smirks. "C'mon, baby, make it hurt," she goads. Wiggling her ass and swaying her tail to give him an inviting look at her pink little hole. "Get me all raw and you can slide that big cock through--oh!"

Mountain cracks the spoon onto the other cheek, as hard as he'll dare. Groaning when she squeals with pleasure and delight. Cock kicking under her tummy.

"Fuck, baby, just like that!"

Another crack. Red blooming underneath her pale skin as she moans fully into the side of his thigh.

"Gods, you're hot," Mountain says dumbly. "When you've had enough--" He hits her again, same place. "--I'll kiss it better."

[stoirmeachapas]

SECRET?

Clarisse La Rue x Aphrodite!reader

Warnings: breakup, smoking, not proofread so…. misspellings? maybe?

“Im sorry you know I had to do it.” i spoke quietly, holding the girls hands in mine, “I really didn’t want to.”

The blonde hephastus girls hair stuck to her tear-soaked face, her eyes watering as she looked in mine, “You promised me that you wouldn’t do it, you said it meant nothing to you!” She yanked herself away from me.

I really didn’t want to hurt her, I actually liked her. The guilt of it was swallowing me up already.. “Im sorry but I need my mother to love me, okay? I understand if you don’t get it because your mom raised you, but it’s hard being a teenage girl with no parental figure okay!” I pressed my hands into my forehead, rubbing my temples.

“Sorry, I just-” She tried to grab me again, her hand brushing over my arm. I pulled away from her touch.

“Im sick of having to figure everything out on my own. I just needed somebody to love me. I still need someone to love me.”

“I can love you!” She tried to hold me by my shoulder and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

I shoved her back harder than I meant to. “Stop it. No you cant.” She stumbled over her heels.

“Get out.” she mumbled.

So I did. I didn’t want her to see me cry, and I didn’t want to see her cry. I actually liked somebody and they liked me, but I had to do it.

The second the chilly air hit my body and I closed the door, I broke out into sobs.

The dirt pathway crunched under my feet, the small rocks pressing into the bottom of my old nike shoes. Tears flowed down my face as i wiped them away harshly with my sweatshirt sleeve.

I walked up the single checker-tiled step to the light grey building, my hands shaking as I opened the light pink door. My siblings crowded around me, smiling and giggling. Silena, my twin sister, stood in-front of me, “Did you do it?”

“Yeah.”

It had been three months since I became, quote on quote, worthy to my mother.

I don’t think it made a huge difference, other than the fact the every time I saw the girl I just felt a massive amount of guilt instead of butterflies.

She seemed happy, she had friends and moved on to somebody else. thank the gods.

The campfire flames whisped around in the centre of the space, warming everybody around it. I sat on the dirt ground in in front of my sister while she braided my hair, talking to her and her friend.

“I just… I think it’s stupid that they can tell what we will miss the most on our plate! How do they know I really like mac n cheese?”

“Silena, what?” I giggled looking up at my sister, “Stop moving your head!”

The curly head spoke up, “Im sorry, but you’d miss macaroni over everything?”

“Oh my gods! Clarisse do you even know her?” I laughed, “One time when we were younger, she refused to eat anything other than macaroni for like 3 weeks straight!”

Silena hit me jokingly on the shoulder, as Clarisse poked at the girl.

“Hey, your hairs done.” I stood up from the ground and dusted the dirt off my pants. Silena smiled at me as I thanked her, “I’ll see you later, I’m gonna go back to the cabin.”

The girls waved and said their goodbyes as I left, but I wasn’t going back to my cabin.

I glanced around me and cut through the woods, trying to avoid anybody and everybody. The leaves crunched quietly under my shoes. The crisp air wrapped around my body, and I missed the fire already.

I found my usual place to sit, a large pile of rocks (close enough to the lake to hear the water, but far enough away for it to be peaceful). My hands gripped around the jagged rocks as I climbed up over a boulder, sitting in a crevice.

I opened up my small bag, pulling out a half-burnt joint and a lighter. I held it behind my hand to hide it from the slight wind and light the end, letting it fully light before holding it to my lips.

The smoke entered my lungs and went out, drifting into the fall air. “Thought I heard somebody up here.”

Clarisse stood there with her hands on her hips, smiling at me lightly. When did she get so pretty?

Her curly hair gleamed under the dull orange light, her eyes shining. “Well don’t just sit and stare. Give me it”

She sat down next to me, our sides touching as she leant over to grab it. I watched her every move, trying to figure out why people thought she was mean. I guess she had her moments, but she was a genuinely sweet girl.

“Clarisse?” i spoke lightly.

She mumbled in response, looking into my eyes. “Don’t tell Silena, please.”

“You know, she was so pissed off when she realized you weren’t at the cabin,” the girl giggled, “and then I convinced her you were just on a walk and she told me to go look for you.”

“So… thats why you’re here?” It was pretty straightforward, I don’t know why I was so confused. “Mhm, and now I know your secret spot.” She poked at my side, smiling at me.

“I guess it’s our secret spot, now.”

The curly head put the joint out on one of the rocks, watching it with such intensity.

She twiddled with it in her fingers while we sat in silence, for minutes that felt like hours. “Here.” She grabbed my hand and placed it on my palm.

She spoke. again, suddenly, “How do you look so perfect?”

“It’s an Aphrodite thing.” I replied as I shuffled around in my bag, placing the joint back into a pocket. “Why?”

“I just… you always look so… pretty. And your hair is like, perfect, and you have a really nice smile and perfect teeth.” She looked down at her hands as if she was embarrassed, which she probably was. She never compliments people, or cares for that matter. “I just don’t know how you do it. Do you feel pretty?”

“Yeah, I do. Clars, do you feel pretty?” I turned lightly to face her. She thought hard about the question

“I don’t know.”

I didn’t know what to say, or if I was even supposed to say anything. “Oh.” I put my arms out, and to my surprise she wrapped hers around me. “you’re so pretty,” i mumbled into her ear. My finger drew designs on her back, her orange shirt dragged around with it. “You’re so, so pretty.”

It was like her entire personality had changed in a split second as she pushed me away. “I got to go.” She stood up and left before I could even say anything.

My eyes were so heavy, and I never made it off that rock that night.

The rock pressed up against my body as I woke up, curled into a ball. My hair was tangled from the wind, my shirt was twisted in weird directions.

The morning dew covered my entire body which made my hair extremely frizzy. My sweatpants were pushed up to my calves, probably from rolling around in my sleep.

I stood up and stretched, yawning before grabbing my bag and rushing back to my cabin. As soon as I walked theough the door, Silena engulfed me in her arms. “Where have you been!”

“Sorry, I fell asleep and I just… it wont happen again.” I mumbled, looking down at my feet. My shoes were covered in dirt.

“It better not, I was so worried. We all were.” The brunette girl looked at me with her arms crossed, a stern motherly look plastered over her face.

“What time is it?”

She looked over at the small clock, “4 a.m.” I walked over to my bed and grabbed a jacket from the end. “I need to talk to Clarisse.”

I started towards the door again and she grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “Uhm, no!”

“That actually wasn’t a question.”

“I- just go.”

I smiled at her happily and left my cabin. After 5 minutes of walking, the Ares cabin cane into view. You cant just waltz through the door at 4 in the morning, so I found the window over her bed. I tapped the glass lightly, standing on my tiptoes.

Clarisse rubbed her eyes as she woke up, glancing over the me. She rolled her eyes at me then sat up, unlocked the window and slid it open. “What up?” she spoke tiredly.

“I know it’s really early, but you kind of just… like… left? She leant on the frame of the window, sitting criss cross on her bed. “Sorry, I never even said goodnight…”

“Yeah.”

Her smile wavered and fell as she spoke nervously, “Do you like anybody?

I rested my face in my hands, my elbows on the frame. “Mhm. Why?”

“I think you know why.”

I brushed her hair out of her face and tucked the curly behind her ears, playing with one of the strands. She cupped my face in her rough hands, smiling at me.

“Do you, like… I dunno.” she asked with a wavering tone in her voice, as if she was uneasy on her next sentence. “Can I… Uhm…”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I uhm… can I kiss you?” I nodded lightly at the girl before she pulled us together, our lips lightly brushing against one another before they locked together. She pulled away for a second before kissing me again, our lips moving in unison. Her fingers traveled through my hair, guiding my head as I leant further my over the window.

“Clars, You okay? Why’d you stop?”

“Give me a fucking second… Im really nervous.” I giggled at the girl before I pulled us back together again.

“Yeah, I can tell.” i spoke jokingly between kisses, before she pulled away from me entirely. “Come inside.”

“What?” I laughed. She wasn’t joking. “Yeah, just hop through the window.” She grabbed my hand and started pulling me in, falling back onto her bed.

She was pressed under me as we laughed, my face burrier in her neck. “Why is it so cold in here?”

She giggled at me, “the windows open.”

“Oh yeah.” I got off the girl and closed the window, sitting across from her.

She tossed a red sweatshirt at me, florida written across it in large letters. “Thanks,” i smiled at her.

I put it on over my shirt, laying down in a ball on her bed. “Hey, Clarisse?”

“Whats up?” She pulled me over to the head of the bed, wrapping her arms around me while we lied there.

“Can we keeps this a secret?”

“Yeah.”

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Jake Jensen

Summary: Jake knows he's the luckiest man in the world and it's all because of you.

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Previous

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

"Y' see, Jake, a lot o' people in this department ain't exactly friendly to others," Sy tells him. "In fact, it can be difficult for me an' Pine to assign anyone to tickets that require interacting with others."

Jake nods, a little nervously. "IT generally doesn't draw the most charismatic people."

"Which is a damn shame because, more and more, it requires some decent people skills," Sy agrees. "That's why Pine an' I were thinking of giving you a promotion." Jake's eyes go wide with shock. "The way things are right now, we assign tickets kinda randomly. We're interested in putting you in charge of the tickets. You'd be takin' on a lot more of the people focused work, the level 1 support, and the others'd be pickin' up more of your programming work. But since we all know workin' with people can be a pain, Pine's made sure to negotiate some more money into our budget for you. If you want the job."

"By 'in charge of tickets' do you mean I'd be taking them all on?"

"No, no, no," Sy assures. "Just that you'd be making them your priority. And you'd be assigning the level 2 and 3 support tickets around the department as you see fit."

"Won't that cut into your work?"

Syverson laughs at that. "Given how much o' my day is puttin' out fires caused by one of ours bein' rude to others in the building, yeah. But that just gives me more time for actually managing y'all, keepin' us up-to-date on projects, security measures and other stuff."

Jake thinks for a moment. "Does this mean I'll also be responsible for Lloyd's complaints about not getting Maestro assigned to his tickets?"

"He has eased up on that," Sy counters. "But yes."

"But this promotion gives me the authority to handle him, right?"

"That's correct."

Jake nods. "I'm in. Thanks so much for this!"

It had taken forever to get the twins to sleep for their afternoon naps. Leia couldn't stop fidgeting, at least until you gave her the Charmander stuffie to hold as you rocked them. But then Luke wanted his Bulbasaur and you ended up with overfull arms. Some days you're surprised your own biceps aren't as big as Jake's!

Jake's performance review was today and you wanted to make sure to cook up his favorite foods. You'd already sent some of his favorite snacks to work with him. You chuckle thinking about how quickly he can down a bottle of Mountain Dew. The bag of gummy worms to go with the meatball sub were, hopefully, a nice surprise for him. Generally all the sweets in the apartment were homemade but you know how much of a comfort gummy worms can be for him.

And after all Jake has done for you, for the twins, how could not comfort him? Be there for him? Jake never once talked down to you. Never made you feel like your hobbies or interests were a waste of time. He always made sure you felt loved and appreciated. You'd been together for so many years but you still giggle like a teenager whenever you think of him. And you know he does the same. Heck, you giggle as you think of him blushing pink and smiling as he thinks about you.

He's been working so hard to make sure you and the twins were provided for. The budget was sometimes tight but Jake made enough and your commissions were a good supplement. It just made sense for your little family to have a stay-at-home parent. Childcare costs for twins could be rough. But you got more creative with recipes, clothing, toys; your families were happy to help with a lot of the baby supplies; all of it resulting in all of you being able to live a nice, modest but incredibly happy life.

As the twins nap you get to work on the 5-cheese mac you know Jake loves. You're positive his performance review will go well, but it doesn't hurt to have a comfort food ready for him when he gets home.

Jake was practically bursting with excitement when he came home. As soon as he walked through the door the twins held out their hands, smiling, "Dada! Dada!" It always made his heart melt that they looked forward to his coming home. He picked them both up and spun, making them squeal with laughter. He takes a deep breath and knows what you're cooking up for dinner, making him smile even more. He's almost tearing up from how loved he feels.

"Dinner's just about ready," you call from the kitchen.

Jake looks to Luke and Leia, "you ready for dinner? Smells like Mama cooked up some really good food for us!" They both start chattering and laughing as Jake dances them over to their highchairs and gets them settled in. He joins you in the kitchen to help you carry things out and greets you with a big kiss.

"I take it the review went well?"

He starts visibly shaking with excitement, "so well! Let's get dinner started and I'll tell you!"

"Tease!" you smile at him as the two of you take things out to the table, making him laugh. Seeing him laugh causes the twins to renew their laughing and your heart warms all the more for it.

You and Jake alternate dishing out the food for yourselves and the twins. Even though it's certainly cooled down, Luke still holds out his spoon of mac and cheese for you to blow on it. Meanwhile Jake is helping to portion control Leia's ketchup for her chicken nuggets. Both of you are certain she'd drink the ketchup if left unattended so you've developed a system of adding a little dollop to each one as she's eating. Sometimes Jake thinks she views it as a game to play and he hopes she never grows out of it.

After the twins are sated a bit, you and Jake can finally dig in to your own plates. Jake gives all the appreciative moans he knows make you smile. It helps that your cooking is genuinely so damn delicious.

"Now will you finally tell me how the review went?"

"I'm getting a promotion!"

You squeal with happiness, causing a chain reaction with the twins. "A promotion! That's so wonderful! So well deserved!"

Jake blushes, "thank you, Sunshine. And it even comes with a pay raise! I think, after a few months, we can start looking at getting a bigger place!"

"Oh, Jakey! That's so wonderful! I really feel like we should celebrate!"

"I can think of a few ways to celebrate," Jake says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Definitely," you confirm with a giggle as heat rushes to your face. "I'm also thinking we should do a gaming night."

Jake's eyes go wide, "yes, please! Oh that would be so amazing! Not as amazing as you, but still amazing. God I love you so much, Sunshine! You're the best thing to ever happen to me---"

"I feel the same about you, Jakey," you say softly.

Next

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[tsams-and-co-memes]

LAES Earth Canon Info

Updated - 3/7/25

Earth's likes:

Pink

Barbie movies

Nature

Animals

Tiny things

Love stories

Princesses

Storybooks/fairytales

Phantom of the Opera

Broadway shows/musicals

Beaches

Lilac flowers

The Powerpuff Girls

Wicked

Hair accessories and makeup

Tim Allen

Aquariums

Anime

Tea

PB&J's and grilled cheese sandwiches

Playing with makeup sometimes

Mac n cheese

Soap Operas

Learning other languages

Chinese dramas

Lethal Company, even though it scares her

Garlic bread

Geese

Skyrim

Fries

Gudetama (she has lots of little Gudetamas around the house and she's named them all)

Baking sweets

Cottagecore

Drawing

Earth's dislikes:

Violence

Bloodmoon (based on the way she acts towards/with them)

Eclipse (also based on how she speaks to/acts towards him. She gave him chances to be better than he was currently being, and instead of trying, he opted to keep being a jerk) ((This is subject to change))

Driving

Dora the explorer

Sleeping while shrunk down (it feels restrictive to her)

Snapple

Sad movies/shows

Bugs (They freak her out. More specifically, she doesn't like ants and spiders)

Superhero or monster movies

Miscellaneous:

Unlike Sun and Moon, Earth is capable of eating food (partial retcon. Sun and Moon have apparently started eating food)

She used to prepare food for the creator and have dinner with him

She primarily works with children who have disabilities, and children who require more one one one attention

She has a system/database thing in her head that’s loaded with nothing but puns and jokes

She prefers baths over showers

Earth is a silent rage sort of person when she gets angry

Earth has ADHD

She uses a lot of emojis when texting

Her comfort/coping mechanism is saying “pretty ballerina” and/or singing Barbie Girl

She has 5 journals that she's written in as a coping mechanism

Earth starts her days off with morning yoga (the yoga involves screaming), then from there, she goes to work at the daycare. After she's done for the day, she cleans up the daycare, then goes home and cleans every square inch of her room/Monty’s house. After that, it's bedtime, but if she wakes up in the middle of the night, she may go cook an entire meal

She's a clean freak like Sun, and she needs to start her day off by screaming like Lunar

She's pansexual. Maybe demisexual. We're not sure about the specifics yet. She's more drawn to a person's personality than their gender or appearance (according to info in a video, she doesn’t really identify as anything and is more or less unlabeled) (<- according to Solar, she's probably pansexual)

Earth has very good balance

Earth has been ice skating

She watches Bluey

Earth has eagle eyes

Earth's mouth can open

Earth sleeps with her crocheted bunny

[writing-until-i-drop]

Something About The Moon Brings Us Together | Ch. 7

read it on ao3

Previous Chapter

masterlist

Buck was waiting for the day that Eddie came clean about being a werewolf. The entire 118 pack had scented it on him during his first day but he hadn’t brought it up or taken Bobby up on his offer to join them for their full moon night in the mountains. As it turns out, Christopher was going to force his father’s hand because in the middle of Buck’s living room was a half-transformed and terrified child.

Or: The one where Buck takes care of the Diaz boys, especially when Christopher turns out to be a werewolf too.

The 118 family gets around to paying out their Buddie betting pool and Eddie makes a deal with Buck.

a/n: Sorry I disappeared for a week BUT here is almost 2900 words to help you forgive me <3

Eddie kept Buck close, an arm around the taller man’s waist, occasionally stopping their walk back to the cabin for kisses. All of the earlier panic had been silenced the moment Buck said I love you back, a confirmation that settled deep in his chest. Buck had been eager to please as usual and Eddie had no complaints about getting a blowjob in the woods but he was looking forward to getting Buck home so he could repay the favor. Had Eddie ever had gay sex before? Absolutely not. But he was sure he could figure it out.

Christopher was going to be excited about the news of his dad and Buck dating, the kid already saw Buck as a second dad, and this was just further confirmation that all of these years playing house, wishing that Buck didn’t have to go to his loft at the end of the night, were a dress rehearsal for the real thing. 

“Oh my God,” Buck laughed, “Those assholes bet on us.” As they came into the clearing, the adults of the pack were standing on the back porch, obviously exchanging money. 

“Are you really surprised?” Eddie sassed even though he felt embarrassment creep up his neck. Buck kissed his shoulder, settling the nerves before they could take hold.

“I’m more surprised Chimney didn’t spill the beans before now.” 

“And here comes the happy couple now,” Hen announced with a flourish of her hands. “I’m not going to ask why you’re covered in mud.” 

“Why, you don’t want to take bets on it?” Eddie rolled his eyes. Not a single one of them seemed embarrassed in the least. “So, who won?” Hen clapped her hands together in excitement as she began to explain.

“Our big winner was Bobby, picking the right time frame for you getting together.”

“Pops!” Buck gasped, “Seriously?” 

“I make no apologies but I will make mac and cheese for you during the next shift.” Buck folded faster than a house of cards, 

“Deal, you’re forgiven.” Yep. That was his boyfriend/husband, easily bought with a home cooked dinner. Especially if the person cooking was Bobby.

“Karen bet that it would be Buck who convinced Eddie to join us for the full moon, Chimney bet that there would be a claiming before a love confession, sorry, Maddie.” Maddie huffed, flipping off her husband who grinned in return.

“That’s why you were pressing me to confess when we got here?” Buck sounded a bit betrayed, a small pang of sadness echoing through their bond. Eddie tried to purposefully send emotions over the bond, pushing love and affection Buck’s way only to receive it in return seconds later.

“To be fair, I called your crush on Eddie the same week that you met and have been trying to get you to come clean ever since.” 

“That long, huh?” Eddie teased softly, kissing Buck’s cheek and then again when his cheeks turned pink beneath Eddie’s lips. 

“Shut up.” 

-

The drive down the mountain was similar to how the drive up had been days before. Except Christopher’s questions centered around when Buck was going to move in with them and if he was going to be taking over all of the cooking duties from now on, and just like before, Eddie was listening intently to the answers as well. Then the Diaz boys fell asleep, Eddie’s hand on his thigh once again, and this time Buck could enjoy the feeling instead of freaking out about it. 

“Stay the night?” Eddie asked when they got to his house, waiting until Christopher was inside to press Buck against the Jeep and kiss him softly. “We can talk more about you moving in once Chris goes to bed.” Moving in with the Diaz boys would be a dream come true. He had been treating their house as his nest anyways, cooking, cleaning, taking care of Eddie and Chris, and how it could really be his. It was a little overwhelming if he was being honest.

“We have a shift in the morning,” Buck reminded him, sliding his hands into Eddie’s back pockets and giving his ass a squeeze just because he could. 

“So?” Eddie asked, kissing Buck’s neck. Buck relaxed against the Jeep, eyes fluttering shut, sparks of desire shooting through him. “We can save gas, commute together.” Yeah. Uh huh. Saving the environment. His brain was struggling to stay online as Eddie teased Buck’s neck with his teeth, “And if you can be quiet, maybe I can finally get my mouth on your cock.” 

“Fuck.” Eddie chuckled, nipping at Buck’s pulse. “Eddie, while I really, really, really want to do that,” Buck’s voice was an unconvincing, breathy whine. “We should probably be responsible and-” Buck pushed Eddie back by the shoulders but held on to keep him close. “Sorry, really hard to think when you’re pressed up against me like that.” 

“As much as I love that big brain of yours, baby, can we please just be stupid and in love for a little bit?” When Eddie pouted like that, who was Buck to tell him no? 

“Fine but I want Thai for dinner and you’re buying,” Eddie leaned in, closing his lips over Buck’s. Buck sighed into the kiss, cupping Eddie’s stubbled jaw, brushing his thumb over where he knew was a small scar from Eddie’s fighting days. If someone didn’t know it was there, they would never spot it, but Buck knew it was there because it was a reminder of the time when he had abandoned his family.

“Being sad while I’m kissing you is not reassuring, Buck,” Eddie broke away, his tone teasing but there was uncertainty in his eyes that tugged at Buck’s heart strings. 

“I was thinking about the lawsuit,” Eddie’s frown deepened. “Yeah, I know, not exactly horny time material.” 

“I forgave you for that a long time ago,” Eddie pressed a quick kiss to Buck’s lips, once, twice, three times. “Now come on, Chris is going to need someone to help him with his science homework and you know it’s not going to be me.” 

-

Luckily for Eddie, Christopher actually volunteered to go to bed early. Christopher had spent all of dinner telling stories about what they had missed on their “run through the woods” and reopening the line of questioning of when Buck was going to move in. What caught Eddie by surprise was when Chris asked if Buck could hang back a second after he got into bed. 

A few minutes later, Buck came out with tears in his eyes, with what Eddie was coming to recognize as his “calming” scent heavy in the air. Buck didn’t say a word, dropping down on the couch beside Eddie and burying his face into Eddie’s neck. 

They had always been close, trading casual touches, but this level of physical affection was a lot different than that. Hell, even with Shannon he hadn’t been overly touchy. But now that he had a free pass to have his hands on Buck? Eddie was surprised how easy and addicting it was to give and receive affection.

“He made me pinky swear that no matter what happens between me and you, that I’d always be his Buck. I mean,” Buck sniffled. “This morning I was worried you’d never let me see him again.” Fuck that hurt. Buck really thought he’d take Christopher away from him? Of course he did. Buck had a self-deprecating streak a mile wide and abandonment issues that worked in tandem to fill Buck’s head with depressing thoughts.

“I’d never do that to you, no matter what happened,” Eddie reassured Buck, kissing his blonde curls. Tomorrow Buck would probably gel them down and Eddie would miss them, counting down the minutes until they got off shift and he could run his fingers through Buck’s hair to loosen the product enough to bring them back to life. “No take backsies, remember?” Eddie’s tease was rewarded with a soft chuckle from Buck and his wolf purred, feeling the contentment roll off of mate. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go to bed.” 

“Like sleep bed or bed bed?” Buck asked, lips grazing over Eddie’s pulse point, sending a shiver of desire through the alpha. “Because I seem to remember being promised something if I stayed.” Buck’s sweet scent perfumed the air and Eddie knew Buck was thinking about Eddie’s mouth on his cock. 

Eddie chuckled, low and rough. He grabbed Buck’s hips tightly, holding him in place as he grinded up against the omega, relishing in the soft groan Buck breathed against Eddie’s neck. 

“You’re right, baby,” Eddie placed an open mouthed kiss on Buck’s neck, feeling Buck’s rapid heartbeat. It drove Eddie crazy knowing that not only could he get this reaction out of Buck but he could also enjoy it. “You’ve been so good to me and to Chris over the last few days,” Eddie’s grinds didn’t stop and neither did his slow and methodical attack on Buck’s neck. Buck’s scent got stronger with his arousal and Eddie imagined that his own was doing the same from the way Buck was breathing him in. “And I think you deserve some thanks for being so good.” 

Buck shivered, letting out a soft whine. Buck tried to move his hips, trying to speed up the pace of the grinds but Eddie held him steady, taking control of the situation. 

“Why don’t you go to the bedroom and I’ll be in in a second to show you how much I appreciate you.” 

Buck didn’t have to be told twice. He nipped at Eddie’s shoulder where he knew the mating bite laid beneath Eddie’s shirt, drawing out a groan from his alpha, before practically running to the bedroom. Buck pulled off his shirt and pants and crawled into bed, positioning himself upright against the pillows. 

This was far from his first time in Eddie’s bedroom but now that he had a claim - well, an official claim - to the Diaz boys, the comforting feeling of Eddie’s scent all around him was even more comforting. Technically, he wasn’t due his next heat for a month but he felt the familiar need to make a nest with the soft blankets and pillows on the bed kicking up in his chest but he pushed it down. It must have just been a side effect of being recently mated. 

Buck was squirming to stay still and be patient, waiting for Eddie to come into the bedroom. Patience had never been his strong suit but Eddie had called him good, not once, but twice, and he was determined to continue being good. When Eddie finally did come into the bedroom, he looked absolutely delicious, leaning up against the door frame with his arms crossed. Buck swallowed hard, squirming even more under Eddie’s intense gaze. 

“You look so good in my bed,” Eddie’s voice was low and rough and doing things to Buck, who was hanging onto the last thread of his sanity with both hands. “I…I think you should be in it every night.” 

Buck’s brain went a little fuzzy at Eddie’s words, trying to wrap his head around them. Buck had always been the impulsive one. Moving into Abby’s place, asking people to move in with him when he wasn’t even sure if he loved them, and Eddie was the guy who had a panic attack at the idea of being in a ready-made family with Ana. 

So for Eddie to be the one asking Buck to move in after all of the rapidly life changes in the past few days, it was a lot for Buck to wrap his head around. But really, in what universe would Buck ever say no to Eddie?

“Okay, yeah,” Buck nodded, digging his fingers into the blankets in anticipation. “Is it like a, I should break my lease tomorrow kind of “you should be in my bed every night” or more of a “I want you to come over but afterwards you should still go home” kind of thing?” Buck stammered, his nerves getting the best of him. “Because I’m okay with whatever you want… I mean, do you-” 

“Buck,” Eddie’s amused voice caught his attention, stopping his rambling. Eddie closed the distance between them, crawling onto the bed so that he was above Buck. His big, brown eyes were soft and full of adoration, making Buck’s heart flutter. “I, we, me and Christopher want you to stay. Will you stay?” 

“Always,” Buck didn’t even have to think about it. And he didn’t have the brain power to think about anything else as Eddie began to press open mouth kisses on Buck’s throat and down his chest. “E-Eddie.”

“Shh, you don’t want to wake up our son now do you?” Buck had to slam a hand over his mouth to keep quiet. He finally had everything he wanted and now all he had to do was be quiet and enjoy it. 

Buck knew that Eddie had never done anything with a man but the enthusiasm rolling off of the other man in waves was dizzying. Eddie didn’t hesitate before removing Buck’s sweats and boxers in one go, continuing his assault of messy kisses and love bites over Buck’s thighs.

“Jesus Christ,” Buck moaned, grabbing a pillow to shove on top of his face to keep himself muffled.

“You look so good covered in all of my marks,” Eddie whispered, almost reverently, tracing what Buck knew was a bite mark left over from when Eddie had pretty much used him as a chew toy during the full moon. “You look so pretty for me.” Pretty. That was a new one but it made Buck shiver all the same. He could hear the smugness in Eddie’s voice as he continued teasing, pressing kisses everywhere but where Buck needed him most. “You like that, huh? You like being my pretty, little…omega.” 

“Fuck,” Buck grunted, his hips giving a little thrust at the words. Eddie chuckled, sounding proud of himself for figuring out what to say to get Buck all worked up. Buck put the pillow down, glaring playfully at Eddie who was looking smug. “You’re an assh-” His words turned into a groan that he needed to stifle as Eddie licked a firm stripe up the underside of Buck’s angry, weeping cock. 

“I’m sorry, baby, what were you saying?” Oh God, that bastard. Buck flipped him off with the hand that wasn’t covering his mouth and Eddie just grinned wider. Buck watched as Eddie began to teasingly lick and kiss his cock, trying his best to keep his noises quiet. “My perfect omega, all needy and desperate for me.” 

Buck’s soul nearly left his body as Eddie began taking inch-by-inch of Buck into his warm, wet mouth. Fuck. Buck was going to die right there with Eddie’s mouth on his cock and even his ghost was going to be embarrassed by the inscription on his headstone. Here lies Evan Buckley, killed by a blowjob from his best friend. 

When Eddie got about half of Buck down his throat, Buck felt him gag, his throat constricting around Buck’s cock and he groaned at the feeling. Eddie came back up, pressing a kiss to the slick tip.

“Feeling good, baby?” Eddie asked, a tinge of uncertainty in his voice as he stroked Buck.

“So fucking good, Eds. Why are you so good at this?” Eddie’s cheeks went pink and Buck knew it had to do with more than just the compliment. “Eddie…”

“When I told you to come back here and wait for me, I might have googled how to give a blowjob.” Buck’s heart swelled at the idea of Eddie wanting to do a good job so much that he looked it up and it just made him love Eddie more.

“Eds, that’s-” Adorable. He was going to say adorable. At least he was before Eddie took Buck back into his mouth and sucked, hollowing his cheeks, effectively turning off higher brain function in Buck. He went boneless, biting down on his lip to keep his noises to a minimum as Eddie worked him over, seemingly desperate to show Buck what he had learned from the internet. 

It was over far too quickly for Buck’s liking, not embarrassingly so, but still. When he gasped and babbled, trying to tell Eddie to pull off, that he was going to cum, Eddie just doubled down until Buck released into his mouth. 

“Holy shit,” Buck panted, reaching for Eddie, who crawled up the bed and gave Buck a soft kiss. “I think you killed me.” 

Eddie laughed with his whole chest, smiling and guiding Buck to lay down with him. 

“I’ll take that as a good review then.” 

“Oh yeah, 10/10, 5 stars, A+,” Buck rambled until Eddie shut him up with another soft kiss. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Eddie reached back to turn off the bedside lamp before snuggling close, holding Buck tight. Buck felt nothing but love, affection, and satisfaction through their mating bond and he let those feelings wash over him like warm, ocean waves, lulling him to sleep. 

Next Chapter

Taglist: @closetspngirl

[concretevampire]

Building Holes

Part One

mike schmidt x afab!reader ☆ 8.9k ☆ no use of y/n and no reader description ☆ meeting for the first time; people being humans; adult themes; no serious warnings

A/N: I’ve been a FNAF and Josh Hutcherson fan since I was in middle school so this feels necessary. updates for this story will be (mostly) regular. English is not my first language.

You can see the panic in his eyes before he probably even thinks about it.

You don’t know him. Of course you don’t, he’s just a guy who happened to be standing in front of you at the check-out line.

But you feel bad. Really bad.

The cashier: they look disgruntled. Annoyed too. You can hardly blame them though– crying children irritate people– but you can’t help but be irked. Whoever this guy is, he’s obviously trying his best.

And what can you really do when something like this happens?

Some glittery, pink, thingamajig was right in the little girl’s line of sight and kids don’t like the word “no”. It didn’t help that he barely glanced at her when he told her off mundanely; quietly, eyes trained on the scan of item after item.

So, she’s throwing a fit. A torrential, hysterical, fit.

She can’t be older than nine, you think. And him, maybe a college student. An odd pair, but the world is filled with those. They’re so human it almost hurts; a gasp for air, a vase that’s older than you are; autumn leaves on concrete, the curve of a dandelion.

He’s processed his panic now, going pale as he spins to look between the girl and the cashier. Bag the groceries or calm her down?

The cashier looks more exasperated than anything else now. Impatience billows like drying laundry in their chest, wafting dew toward you.

A particularly pitiful sound shrieks from the girl and the thought that you want to go home enters your mind. It’s selfish, especially as you watch this guy bend down onto one knee, his thumbs wiping away the tears that muck the girl’s cheeks; muttering apologies and gentle pleas to quiet.

The fluorescent lighting of the store deepens the shadows underneath his eyes.

You decide then that your groceries aren’t really an emergency but the only thing you’ve got in the fridge is pickles and frozen pizza. You could make do but you don't want to.

“Do you want me to bag your groceries for you?” You ask, side-stepping past your cart and to The Guy, who’s precariously offering hushed solutions to the girl’s self-imposed grief.

He looks up; between you, his girl, the cashier, then the box of cereal on the counter that sits soundly.

Blue and unbothered.

Back to you. His eyes shine so brightly, you find yourself convinced he’s on the verge of tears. That’s just how he looks, you realize. Dark, dark eyes– condors and tarmac– and the twinkle of artificial light in them.

He nods weakly. “If you don’t mind.”

You shrug and walk past him, to the end of the cash register.

There’s Chef Boyardee, Donettes, Yummy Dino Buddies; they all get bagged– one by one– together. The Guy comes to stand next to you, now holding his girl; her ruddy, sobbing face tucked warmly into the crook of his neck. She’s clinging to his OMSI: Pacific Marine Camps t-shirt, snot getting on the printed Spicebush Swallowtail.

His dark eyes follow your hands as you set aside the eggs.

“Thank you,” he says, but you’re barely halfway done. He’s earnest about it though; gaze on your jaw as one of his warm palms rubs firm circles into the girl’s back.

You shake your head half-heartedly. “It’s okay,” you tell him.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I offered.”

He goes quiet, glancing towards the cashier a couple of times nervously. “Most people wouldn’t.”

“I dunno,” you set the eggs on top of the Donettes and whip open a new bag to place milk and Kraft Mac n’ Cheese in. “Stuff like this happens all the time.”

The little girl’s sobs have receded into hiccups and sniffles, still crying, but quiet.

The cashier picks at their nails.

When you finish bagging The Guy’s groceries, you give him a smile. Something that you hope is reassuring. Warm: the apple cider you had a week ago bubbling up on your cheeks.

Then, you return to your cart and the cashier begins scanning your items.

The Guy lingers.

A minute later he’s offering to pay for your groceries.

“You’re acting like you’re in debt,” you tease with a bewildered smile, borderline grimace.

“I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

When you exit, he follows; pushing his cart with one hand, holding the girl up with the other. She’s not crying anymore.

The pair follow as you step over a mess of expired coupons that have been trodden into a fine paste over the parking lot’s concrete. Baby wipes: two for one.

“You’ve gotta let me repay you,” he implores.

You shrug a shoulder.

He opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find the right words. And there probably aren’t any, but you can’t tell him that. That’s something he’s gotta figure out on his own. You throw the back of your car open and shove groceries in.

He watches quietly.

“Thank you,” he then says, stubbornly. Like you’re a tornado; flightless fog and feathered ozone, a nightmare, something so earnestly destructive.

He has no clue how to approach it. You.

You turn to him fully, the air turning more yellow between the two of you as the evening deepens. The sun, a molten yolk melting and dipping into the bread of the Earth’s foundation.

He’s handsome— strong arms, broad shoulders, sharp jaw— and entirely constructed by hard-headed exhaustion.

Awfully young to be taking care of a girl like that, you think, but shit happens.

Shit always happens.

You close the trunk of your car.

“Good luck,” you tell The Guy, waving softly.

He’s quiet but he begins to step away, and the girl finally looks up– still clutching onto his shirt. Her dark, dark eyes glue stickily to yours: a gooey, feathered, glittery, arts n’ crafts project.

You smile at her, something you hope is reassuring. She sniffles.

“Thanks,” he says, moving further away, “you too.”

•---------•

“Happy Birthday.” You present the manilla folder lazily to David. He raises a brow.

“Those aren’t the divorce papers, are they?”

“Um,” you bring the folder back to your chest– an evil, rectangular teddy bear– and flip it open, “‘Complaint for Divorce’ in parentheses, ‘No Children’,” you look back at him. “I dunno, could be.”

He groans and reorganizes the staplers on his desk that have already been neatly placed at the corner. Twenty-degree angles on top of ninety-degree angles. All aligned in minimalist, careful, simplicity.

Perfect.

“I’m glad someone’s getting some amusement out of my divorce,” David groans, flipping drawers open and closed. Looking for something imaginary, something that will keep him busy. An object that will be an excuse in the future for his own failures.

“Our divorce,” you plea sarcastically, “You’re not gonna be my brother-in-law any more.” As if it ever mattered.

“Why are you here anyway?” He asks, finally straightening. One of his thick brows raises. “And not her assistant?”

“She wanted the personal touch.” You joke, setting the folder down on his desk. It feels incriminating when you hold it yourself as if you’re the one holding the gun up to their marriage, pulling the trigger. David eyes the folder warily. He reaches a skinny hand out, flipping through the papers tentatively.

His tendons swing and swell like frantic waves under his tan skin.

“I guess one nice thing about marrying a lawyer is that paperwork’s never a problem,” he mutters.

“And there are copies.”

“Oh, joy!” He exclaims, but then slumps in his chair, temples balanced in his palms. He’s awfully small like this. Crumpled at his desk. His blue and green argyle tie, a ruined knot at his neck. Gray suit, a poor stitch of used paper towels surrounding his frame.

Something about seeing a man so weak feels sacrilegous. Feels like a taunt. Feels like God is sitting on your shoulder and giggling.

It doesn’t help that his desk is so pristine. Neat where David is fucked. A nameplate sits perfectly in the center: DAVID CASTILLO VICE PRINCIPAL, it screams, confident.

“I should go,” you say when he doesn’t twitch from his hunched position for sixty seconds.

He nods, then shakes his head, then pinches the bridge of his nose as if a spider’s unfurled its legs in the cave of it. “No,” he starts, “No, um,” he glances at the divorce papers and looks away just as quickly. There’s a picture of him and your sister hanging on the wall to his left. He stares at the frame. “How about I take you out to dinner? Or something?”

“Sure,” you shrug.

“Okay.” David inhales deeply.

It’s quiet. A clock on his wall ticks, again and again, impending itself into your skin and his soul. “Do you want me to wait outside?” You ask, pointing a thumb at the door.

“Please,” he mutters.

The school is empty. The ‘Welcome Back to School!’ display is still up in the lobby, even though it’s mid-September and a chill is starting to ghost the air every few days. A janitor scoops up a leaking trash bag, throws it over his shoulder, and rolls the bin into the hallway.

You stroll past a wall absolutely littered with papers; drawings hung up like samara fruit in waxy colors. Lots of suns with smiley faces and brown, pea-bodied dogs. Theres a family of rainbow turtles and a wonky drawing of Ariel from The Little Mermaid. You recognize a dragon and a field of camels too. It’s endearing.

David wanted kids. Your sister didn’t.

That’s not the reason they’re getting a divorce but it’s one of those little microcosms that sums up why.

One little minute passed but it changed the hour. Changed the day too, maybe. Or the week. The month. For all you know, even the year. That’s what happened with them.

Just one minute. That’s all it takes.

You expect the cafeteria to be empty like everything else but it isn’t. There’s a woman sitting near the entrance with barrel hips and kinky, salt-and-pepper hair that's clipped back viciously in a bun. She smells warm, like peaches and laundry detergent; shea butter too.

A spice you only dream about.

The woman looks up at you from her book– something by Toni Morrison– and her brown and pink lips purse at you.

For a second she looks mean, but her hands seem so soft; so, so soft; the color of warm, brown egg shells. Her nails are lacquered in a hazy shade of lavender that reminds you of glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and the taste of milk with honey.

Sweet potato pie.

“Are you here for Abby Schmidt?” She asks, her voice low and smooth like the afterthought of a lullaby. Her eyes then turn to a girl sitting at one of the cafeteria tables. She sits alone, her dark hair hanging in rivulets around her ears and jaw, and she scribbles mindlessly with crayons on paper.

“No,” you tell her, adjusting your messenger bag a little. “I was just dropping something off for Mr. Castillo.”

The woman closes her book. Her eyebrows are thin. Neat stitches arched above wrinkles. “Are you a friend of David’s?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Okay,” she relents and opens her book again. You smile fractionally and nod, even though she doesn’t see.

Your footsteps echo against the linoleum as you walk deeper into the heart of the cafeteria. The girl doesn’t look up from her work, even as you approach, and you find yourself standing behind her. You’re looking over her shoulder at her art, arms clasped behind your back.

“I like your drawing,” you utter. The girl— Abby— turns to look up at you. Her eyes stick to yours.

“Thank you,” she says, trading a green crayon for a pink one. Then she looks back up, assessing you like you’re a division problem she hasn’t quite learned yet. “I like your jacket.” She settles.

“Thanks,” you say genuinely, shifting on your feet, “Can I sit with you?”

Abby nods and scoots over as you join her. She keeps coloring. Your eyes scan her drawing some more.

Two scribbled figures. Both with dark hair, and dark eyes, and smiles. One is taller than the other, and you can tell that the shorter one is herself: she’s wearing the red overalls in her drawing. The taller figure sports a green sweater— deep green.

Evergreens, ferns; huckleberries falling off the branch.

“Is that your dad?” You ask, hand waving towards the taller figure. She shakes her head.

“That’s Mike. He’s my brother.”

You nod. “Is that who you’re waiting for?”

“Mhm. But he’ll be here soon.” She checks the little purple watch on her wrist like she’s the president of the United States. “He’s usually late.” She turns to you. “Are you waiting for someone too?”

You guess you are. “Yeah.”

“Are they late?”

You shrug. “Sorta.”

Abby then narrows her eyes at your face. “I know you,” she says resolutely.

“Do you?” You ask, propping your head up with a palm as you rest your elbow on the cafeteria table.

“Yeah. You’re that lady who helped Mike at the grocery store.”

Your brows twitch upward, an interested leer wide on your lips. Abby looks suddenly familiar. Dark, dark eyes and fluorescents catching on them.

You’re surprised she remembers that at all; not only because it happened back during the tail-end of July, but because she was sobbing through the whole situation. She only saw your face for a solid five seconds and still recognized you as That Lady.

Smart girl.

“Yeah, that was me.”

She assesses you again; but more like a bird on a tree. “I’m Abby.”

“Nice to meet you, Abby.” You introduce yourself too. She beams and turns back to coloring. You watch and then ask, “Can I draw with you?” and Abby is quick to shove a paper and brown crayon in your hand.

She seems very pleased about the development.

Ten minutes later she’s frowning at your purple cow-dog-unicorn-thing and shaking her head. “I don’t think it looks like a cow.”

You look down at your work with her.

“Maybe if you squint? It’s abstract.” You narrow your eyes and bite the flesh of your cheek, doing what you think the high masters did when they made shit too.

She tries a squint and then frowns harder. “No.”

You laugh. “Well, maybe it’s my own animal.”

“Does it have a name?”

“Hmm. Wanna help me think of one?”

“Umm,” Abby tilts her head this way and that, the curls of her hair springing as she does. “I can’t think of anything.”

Before you can reply with something funny, someone runs into the cafeteria, panting. It’s The Guy. Mike. Her brother.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Harris, I-“

The woman ignores him, flipping another page in her book. He sighs and swallows, turning towards Abby. Then he looks flatly at you.

Abby stares– unwavering– as he walks over, hands crossed neatly over one another on the table. Mike takes her scrutiny like it’s orange juice with pulp while glancing strangely between her face and yours.

“Mike,” she starts. “You’re late.”

“Yeah, I know, um,” he looks vaguely towards you. This feels like a routine and it feels like you're breaking it.

Abby introduces you. “This is the nice lady from the grocery store.” She supplies. His eyes widen momentarily, suddenly putting all the pieces of the past and the present together, a jigsaw falling into place. His eyes trace the slant of your nose, the curve of your eyes; linger on the pocket above your lips and the eve of your jaw.

Mike clears his throat and straightens his back. “I didn’t know you worked here?”

“I don’t,” you say, and look at your purple abomination. “A family member does.”

Mike nods and momentarily loses interest, walking around the table and grabbing Abby’s backpack. He slings it across his shoulder. It’s phenomenally tiny on his sback and you realize just how small Abby is. And the little pack is so bright against him too; shining in reds, and yellows, and deep blue cerulean against the gray-green of his jacket.

Abby stands, gathers her drawings (yours too), and grabs Mike’s hand when he offers it. There are bandaids on his thumb and pointer finger, bruises like nightshade crawling from underneath the torn brown.

But Abby doesn’t look away from you when Mike makes it for the exit. She makes an annoyed, high-pitched sound from the back of her throat and glues her eyes to yours desperately.

He stops, head knocking back to stare at the ceiling tiredly, before dropping to look at her. “What’s wrong?” He asks her gently.

“Wanna go to Sparky’s with us?” Abby asks you, with no regard towards Mike. Like he’s an imaginary presence. His eyes go wide though, catching the light like moths as he stares tight-lipped and in utter horror at the back of Abby’s head.

And then he comes to terms with it, frowning between you and her.

“Um,” you start, then scoot closer to Abby in your seat. Your eyes level with hers. “I think that’s something you need to ask Mike about,” you settle gently, hoping its the right thing to say.

She whips her head to look up at him. “Can they go to Sparky’s with us?”

Mike clears his throat; shifts his stance like it’ll suddenly root the words into his mind; adjusts the strap of Abby’s bag on his shoulder.

“Maybe later,” he decides.

“When?”

“Abby. C’mon.”

“When, Mike?”

You rise from your seat. “Are you free Friday?” You ask him, head tilting. He purses his lips at you, jaw working, and then seemingly gives up.

“After four, yeah.”

“Great. Me too.”

“Okay.”

“Friday at five then?” You beam down at Abby. “Sparky’s right?” Back at Mike. “That’s on 65th and Jefferson?”

“Yeah. Sure, sounds good.” He says, but you don’t believe him. He’s got this barely-there wince on his face like there’s a nail in his shoe.

He’s sorry, you realize. Sorry about Abby; sorry that he’s supposedly forced you into this. You shake your head at him with an easy smile.

It’s okay. But he doesn’t believe you either.

You feel like he’s the type of person who’s always on his own page. Not because he wants to be but because he’s worried that other people can’t read between the lines. Can’t look deeper, past the words and into the real meat of it all.

Or maybe Mike’s more comfortable ripping the book apart than letting anybody settle down into it with him.

He leaves.

Abby waves at you, a flutter of little fingers as she walks out the door too, trailing behind Mike.

David shows up five minutes later.

His tie is situated perfectly around his neck; firm and rigid into the confines of his freshly buttoned suit. He smiles at Mrs. Harris and she asks him how he is. David says he’s fine. You wish he didn’t have to lie but he waves you over like his life is a dream and you accept that this is the reality he wants. And that you’re, in some way, a part of it.

Dinner with him is a blur. The week is a blur.

On Friday, you almost forget that you’ve committed to go to Sparky’s but one of your coworkers mentions how her daughter has a ballet recital; and you’re suddenly reminded of Abby.

Reminded of the fact that there’s now apparently a child in your life that is affected by your actions.

You think for a moment to talk about Abby but remember suddenly that you don’t really know a thing about her. You don’t know whether she prefers apple juice or orange juice: what her favorite cartoon is: or if she’s still using kid’s toothpaste.

Abby’s not your kid or your little sister, and that fact doesn’t change even if you think she’s cute and funny.

You wonder what she’s drawn today.

Maybe she’ll show you. You think about how small she is and if her little eyes will stare into yours, hop-scotching across the strange adult sadness you can’t seem to shake off on warm, overcast days like today.

You drown out thoughts with the radio while you drive to Sparky’s.

It’s a hard place to miss.

It’s just outside the center of town, and the flat-topped building sits under a large neon sign that says “SPAKY’S GIL & DINR” because the owner can’t really afford to fix the letters that don’t light up anymore. The smiling, cartoon dog– Sparky— doesn’t light up anymore either.

He’s got bird shit on his left eye.

You’re five minutes early when you open the glass door to the diner. A bell tinkles, signaling your arrival.

Mike and Abby have already situated themselves in one of the gray laminate booths. They sit on one side together. Abby’s got her head down, already scribbling at a paper with a green, broken crayon. Mike’s looking out the window, an arm across the back of the booth behind her. Calm, reserved.

A little, yellow teddy bear is propped up between them.

Mike only turns your way when you sit down across from him. Abby looks up from her drawing immediately, her head jolting up. Her grin is palpable, like strawberry shortcake, when you say hi.

“You came!” She exclaims, grip tightening on the crayon. It might snap.

You smile. “Of course I did. I said I would, didn’t I?”

Abby nods and returns to drawing; her arm moving twice as fast as it was before you came.

Mike makes eye contact with you. His eyes then drop to linger on the collar of your shirt, reading the hem like an instruction manual, before raising again.

You’re not sure what he learned from the stitching.

Something by The Doors is droning on the speaker; fuzzy, blurry, like fog. Jim Morrison moans out “Let it roll, baby, roll~” and your foot taps along.

“Did you just get back from work?” You ask him, shrugging your jacket off.

“Yep.”

“What do you do?”

“Construction.” Something you could’ve guessed, judging by the Carhartt pants and steel-toed boots.

“Nice,” you say, authentically.

He nods, then says, “How about you?” like the words are gumming to his teeth.

“Boring stuff,” you wave Mike off and watch Abby trade for a blue crayon. She’s humming along to the music. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face and turn your head back to sit eye-to-eye. He raises a quizzical brow. “Seriously,” you implore.

“You don’t have a job,” He says simply. He’s not really bothered by the notion that you’re unemployed.

“I do,” you huff, “I just,” so you tell him about it. He looks tired while you talk, occasionally eyeing the ketchup and continuously rereading the label while actively pretending not to. But he’s an honest, good sport about it; at the very least trying to seem interested. Mike nods in all the right places, giving “yeahs” and “mhms” when he should.

In the middle of your drone, the waitress comes.

She’s fifty-something, with chalky eyeliner bleeding under her eyes; her ginger-dyed hair is pulled back in an impressively messy beehive. You easily imagine royal honey dripping from the split ends. She smells like stevia and tobacco. The name tag on her chest says “Susie”.

Susie blinks at you warmly and tiredly. “What can I get for you?”

Mike orders first, orders for Abby– who barely flinches at the mention of her name– and then you order.

Susie leaves without writing any of it down.

Mike turns back to you, tense. “You don’t mind paying for yourself, right?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you joke, but he doesn’t really smile. Abby suddenly looks up from her art and leans in your direction, a little valence electron swarming into a new orbital. Her small shoulder pushes into Mike’s bicep. He stills her with a soft look like he wants to pillow her in peach fuzz and call it a night.

“Do you like your job?” She asks, sitting up on her knees. The hand Mike has resting on the booth moves to fix her sweater to her shoulder. She doesn’t even flinch.

You shrug a little. “It’s okay.”

She seems troubled. “Why do grown-ups never like their jobs?”

You stifle a laugh but shake your head. “I’m not sure about that. There are a lot of grown-ups who like their jobs.”

“I don’t know any.”

You glance at Mike.

He’s wincing at her words– scratching at the skin behind his ear– looking properly embarrassed. They’re a funny pair; like pickle relish and peanut butter. Weird fishes swimming and circling together because they have nowhere else to go. They know this routine; know the angle of each other’s currents.

“There are,” you assure her. Your eyes drift toward the drawing she abandoned. “What do you wanna be when you’re grown-up?”

She shrugs and tells you “I dunno,” like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “This boy, Jesse, in my class, he wants to be an astronaut.”

“Do you want to be an astronaut?”

“Sure. Space is cool. And the moon is pretty.” Abby looks towards the ceiling as if it’ll break apart and reveal Mars.

Your fingers reach tentatively for her art and when she doesn’t protest, you take it fully. You hold her work up with two hands in front of your face like a mask. “You don’t wanna be an artist?” You ask with a sly smile, peeking around the drawing. She shrugs again and Mike rubs her back a little.

You face the paper.

It’s a grassy scene; blue sky, yellow sun wearing sunglasses. Five figures are the subject; Abby in the middle and then two other children on each side of her. On her left; a redhead boy with a hook for a hand and another boy in a top hat. On her right; a blonde girl in a pink dress and finally, a boy in blue with bunny ears.

You put down the paper to look at Abby. Her eyes are wide, expectant. Mike’s are the same.

“Are these your friends?”

“Yes!” Abby exclaims and leans on the table to look at you closer. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” you grin, pleased.

Mike shifts awkwardly. “Imaginary,” he clarifies. “Imaginary friends.”

You give him a private, amused smile. He relaxes a little.

Abby hands you a blank paper. “You should draw your friends.”

You obey, picking up a crayon, starting with yourself. Mike watches you carefully, eyes on your hands, sometimes trailing the curve of your eyebrows and the fall of your lashes.

“You’re good,” he says as Abby hands you a pink crayon– which you take dutifully. You draw a flower while sending him a wry smile, shaking your head. “I’m serious,” he implores, but you can hear the joke behind it.

“Sure.”

Then you finish coloring your jeans in and lean back to think.

Friends. You could draw your sister. But she’s not a friend. She’s your sister, and a lawyer, and a now ex-wife, but she’s not a friend.

David isn’t a friend either.

Dinner with him was quiet and he’d broke down into tears (again) by the end of it. You paid for the bill out of pity. You think that’s probably the last time you’re ever going to see him.

The waitress drops your food off as you start to outline the shape of red overalls.

Abby chews deftly on her chicken nuggets and leans into Mike’s shoulder while he dips his burger into a heaping pool of ketchup: the two of them eye your drawing together. You’re reminded of this photo you saw once in a Nat Geo magazine of two dark-eyed owls burrowed together.

You bite a smile.

When you’re done coloring a green sweater, you straighten and pop a self-satisfied fry into your mouth.

Abby wipes her hands off with a napkin that Mike hands her and takes your drawing. She gasps when she sees. Mike’s brows raise and you reflexively hope he doesn’t hate it.

“It’s us!” Abby says excitedly, vibrating with joy. You take a bite of your food and nod. She turns to Mike, huffing, and very seriously tells, “This is for the fridge.”

And finally, Mike smiles, almost snorting. But all he does is nod and say “Sure is,” between his bite

“You even drew my overalls.”

“I did,” you say. “They’re totally cute.”

“I like the flowers you drew around us.”

“Pretty, right?”

Abby looks so happy you could scream.

By the time both Mike and you are done with your food, her eyes haven’t left the drawing. And you must be doing something right because at some point Mike smiles at you.

Quietly. Mostly unseen.

Mike is comfortably out of your reach but he flutters in and out of your grasp fleetingly; a moth seeking light, heat, maybe something more. When he lands, you don’t close your fingers; only hang your palm open and let him decide if he wants to stay.

Maybe you are on the same page but you’re not sure if he knows it.

When the check comes Mike suddenly offers to pay. You refuse, waving him off and sticking your card in with his.

Susie comes to pick it up and then returns five seconds later, wishing you a nice day. You walk out of the diner as one big group– Mike holding the door open for you and Abby– and you find yourselves stuck under neon signs.

Mike looks at Abby carefully. “Can you wait in the car for a second?” He asks. She looks immediately offended, wanting to say no.

He looks exhausted.

Abby glares at him, then looks sadly at you before walking away and clambering into the back seat of his Honda Accord.

You turn to Mike and he turns to you when the door slams shut.

“Thank you,” he says immediately like he’s been holding it in his lungs the entire time.

“It’s nothing.”

“No,” he urges, “seriously. Abby, she,” he glances at the car, “she has a really hard time with people. Shit, I have a hard time with her too and I’m her brother.” Mike takes a deep breath. “She really likes you.”

You’re quiet for a second, letting the shadow in your eyes escape and mingle with his. “I get it.” You tell him. “Kids are…” you scuff your shoe against the pavement, “hard. Big emotions, little bodies, ya know?”

He nods. “Yeah.” He exhales. “You’re good with her.”

“I was a weird kid too.” You tell Mike with a grin.

Something like a smile is offered as he shakes his head. “You, uh,” he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans and glues his eyes to the ground. “You wouldn’t mind meeting up again?”

You take a deep breath. This is a lot.

You should say, “Yes, I do mind,” but honestly, you really don’t. You’re not bothered by their company. You like both of them. Mike’s got something sad about him though; constantly in the eye of a storm, waiting for the hazard to hit again. And Abby’s Abby: sweet.

“It’s just, she doesn’t really,, click. But she did with you. And I know she’s gonna wanna see you again.” He elaborates.

“Sure,” you breathe, blinking. “Do you want my phone number or something?”

Mike nods. “Yeah, that’d be good.” He gives you his phone and sniffs when you enter your digits and hand it back.

You step away, steeping yourself deeper into the night. “See you around?”

“Yeah,” he nods and turns to his car. Abby rolls the window down, thin arms circling quickly, and peaks her head out.

“Bye!” She calls desperately as the engine starts. She probably thinks she’ll never see you again.

“Later, alligator!” You call back, waving.

She grins toothily and Mike asks her to roll the window up as they pull slowly out of the parking lot.

•---------•

Mike doesn’t contact you for the next two weeks. You expect it.

By the third week, you’ve settled that he’s realized just how odd this situation is and won’t call you ever. Something like disappointment aches awfully in your chest but you brush it off as a human reaction to the departure of warm summer evenings.

October is right around the corner and you’re starting to feel it.

The days are getting crisper; dirt turning to mud, dew on the grass, leaves turning orange. There’s also a bug going around at work and you’re not spared of its spread.

You wake up one morning with a scratch in your throat, an ache in your head, and a clog in your left nostril. You’re not really that sick; after a cup of coffee, you feel better. But your psyche still feels like it’s made from popsicle sticks and cotton balls.

You take it to the pharmacy before work.

There’s Nyquil and a row of untouched Dayquil next to it. Concentrated Tylenol and Cepacol. Zyrtec and Claritin. Dimetapp. You take the Aspirin and Nyquil and shlump towards the counter.

Mike is there, looking casually fatigued in front of the check-out counter, his hands in his pockets.

“Hey,” you say, the inflection of a question in your voice; the hesitance that maybe Mike wants to be ignored. Remain unseen. Unperceived. He jolts a little at your greeting and doesn’t relax when he turns to face you.

“Hey,” he says back. He takes a glance at your hand. “Sick?”

“Just a runny nose.”

He nods, takes a nervous look towards the empty counter, and then scratches at the growing stubble on his jaw.

“How ‘bout you?” You ask.

His eyes won’t meet yours. “Just some medication.”

You nod and look slowly toward the rack of non-prescription reading glasses. There’s a glittery, red pair at the very top– so small they could probably fit in the palm of your hand. “How’s Abby?”

Mike relents a little, shoulders going from concrete to rubble. “She’s doing alright. She asks about you sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, that drawing you did? She loves it.”

“I’m glad.”

There’s a quiet spell– the two of you looking in your own directions– and when the pharmacist finally shows up, paper bag in hand, Mike nabs it and leaves.

Then you step forward to pay, a polite smile on your lips, eyes flicking to your watch to take a mental note that you need to get to work soon.

Mike’s waiting for you outside the pharmacy; awkward and dark against the white overcast. It’s foggy this morning. You don’t know how he isn’t cold, only wearing a pair of jeans and a Foo-Fighters t-shirt that’s a little tight around the arms and chest. That makes you swallow.

You slow to a stop in front of him.

“I was gonna call you,” he sighs. “I got busy.”

“It’s okay.”

“Do you wanna,” he raises a hand, then drops it uselessly, “do something with Abby soon?”

“Sure.”

“She’s got a half-day on Wednesday. We could take her to the park?”

It’s a good plan. You don’t know why he sounds so unsure. “Get her outside before it gets too cold to?”

“Yeah,” he says, breathing a little easier.

“Sure, I’d love to.”

Mike straightens his back a degree. “You know Marylheights Park? It’s close to the school.”

“Yeah, I know it.”

“Is one okay? Or are you working?” He suddenly realizes.

You shake your head. “I can come by on my lunch break.”

“Alright. Great. See you there.”

You smile, nod, step away a little, and then leave– abandoning Mike under the eave of the pharmacy.

True to your word, you show up at one o’clock in the afternoon at Marylheights Park. Mike and Abby are already there– he’s sitting on a bench, wearing a flimsy black hoodie and she’s bundled up in a pink and red jacket, a beanie knitted in a cacophony of colors on her head.

She runs over when she sees you, a heap of colors on the breeze, a smile bright on her face.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” She exclaims, tripping a little on the bark-chip. You see Mike twitch and then falter when she catches herself.

“You okay?” You ask, reaching a hand out for support if she needs it. She grabs your fingers, tight, as she leads you toward the playground. There’s a couple of other kids with their parents playing too.

“Do you like my hat?” She asks, stopping in front of you to show off.

“I love it.”

“Mike made it for me.”

You glance at him. He’s slouched lazily on the bench, hands stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie.

“Really?”

“Mhm.” She dawdles around you, skipping and humming as she climbs the monkey bars. “I saw a turtle today.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, it was really cute.” She hangs off one of the bars, letting herself swing back and forth. “Lauren brought it for show-and-tell today.”

“What did you bring for show-and-tell?” You ask, leaning against a post with your arms crossed.

“My friend.”

“Your friend?”

“He’s in my backpack right now.”

You nod like it makes perfect sense. “When I did show-and-tell I brought my big sister.” It’s not true but it's funny to think about.

Abby looks at you wide-eyed and a flock of Canadian Geese honk above you; black and white, obnoxious angels. “You can do that?”

“Duh.”

Abby drops from the bar and stares at you. “You’re lying to me.”

You grin. “Maybeeee.”

She rolls her eyes the same way that people do it on TV and suddenly walks away when she sees a round of Lava Monster is starting up. It’s a weird, convoluted game you used to play all the time. You’re suddenly upset that you forgot the rules; as if it didn’t used to be one of your favorite things in the whole world.

You sigh and meander over to Mike, sitting next to him.

Your eyes stay on Abby as she toddles along the play-structure in the middle, unsteadier than you like. Mike hands you a brown, paper bag wordlessly. You raise a brow and take it.

Inside is a white-bread sandwich in a ziploc bag, a juice box, and a folded note.

“What-”

Mike cuts you off. “You came on your lunch break.” You raise your head to look him in the eye. He’s so hard to read sometimes. ”Hope you like turkey and cheese.”

You beam, flushing between joy and embarrassment, and grab the juice box. There’s a cool guy surfing on it. “Thanks,” you say, stabbing the straw into the top. “You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs and turns to watch Abby. She clambers across the slides to avoid being tagged. Some of the other kids yelp and scream wordlessly.

“I owed it to you,” he breathes, his words turning to a puff of vapor in front of his nose.

The two of you split the sandwich in half and you don’t miss the way Mike watches you pick at the crust. When you eat it anyway you hear him puff a sharp exhale of laughter through his nose, shaking his head.

The game filters out and Abby makes her way to the swings, shoes toeing the ground as she sits.

Your fingers lift the note from the bag when you finish eating— unfolding to find a small, crayon drawing, no bigger than your hand.

A purple cow, better than yours, and actually tangible as a cow. Impressive.

“Abby did that,” Mike says, chewing. “She said you need it.”

You close your eyes, amused and overjoyed. Your fingers fold the little piece of paper back up and place it carefully in your bag, in a place you know it won’t be ruined. “God, she’s so sweet,” you huff, hand clenching. You’re not sure what to do with yourself.

You feel like husked corn; chipping paint in a parking lot. Like the curl of peeled apple skin.

“She has her moments,” Mike says gently, almost smiling.

Abby starts spinning herself on the swing, twisting and knotting the chains together and then letting them unravel to leave her in spirals. He frowns at that.

“Abby,” he calls, fixing his slouch on the bench, “quit it! You’ll make yourself sick!”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He grunts. She grins at you and waves. You wave back. She goes back to swinging normally; progressively higher and higher. Another kid ambles over to join her wordlessly.

Mike frowns and shakes his head, first at Abby, then at you. “I’m starting to think she likes you more than me.”

You snort at him. “I’m an adult who isn’t an authority figure in her life.”

“Still.”

“She adores you.” You tell him. You don’t really know either of them well enough to say that but you’re sure of it. You’re sure of it not only because you said it but because Abby’s a sweet, smart kid. She’s got her problems but she’s generally well-behaved. More importantly, she seems happy.

Unbothered, by whatever situation she and Mike are in. Whatever he’s doing, he’s doing pretty good.

And maybe she doesn’t look at Mike like he hung the stars but she certainly treats him like it. The thing about kids is that they’re brutally honest:

If she didn't like Mike, you’d know.

He stares at you for a second longer than you’d expect him to and turns back to watch her.

The two of you stay like that for a while. Side by side. Almost shoulder to shoulder. Abby sometimes comes over to take a break, or ask what you thought of her drawing, or tell Mike what she wants for dinner. It’s peaceful. Quiet.

Okay.

Some parents leave. Some new parents show up. The two of you stay.

At some point, you glance down at your watch and panic floods your synapses.

“Shit,” you mutter, standing up. Mike raises a brow. “I’m really sorry but I’ve gotta get back now. I’m gonna be late and-“

“Don’t worry.” He tells you easily, fixing his posture so he isn’t slouched under your eye. You smile apologetically. Abby runs over from the slides, panting, her wide eyes expectant on yours.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I have to get to work now.”

“But you’ll come back right?”

You bend down to her level, fix the hat on her head so that it sits evenly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Okay.” She sighs, seemingly relieved, but the trace shadows of upset are still visible in the gleam of her eyes.

“Have fun with Mike?” You tell her, rising. You linger despite yourself.

“Later alligator?” She asks like a wet mutt as you start the walk to your car.

“In a while crocodile.”

You wave and she waves back. Mike keeps his eyes trained on you, raising a hand too. Your smile widens.

•---------•

Your older sister is the prettier, smarter, more put-together version of you. The version of you that you pretend to be.

She doesn’t laugh and she doesn’t smile, and you can’t tell if it’s because she genuinely can’t feel joy or is afraid of getting wrinkles. You’re sure it’s a mix of both. She lives in this big, minimalist penthouse suite that you’ve only been in twice; her heels have red bottoms. She has avocado toast for most her meals and the hoops on her ears are real gold.

In short summary; your sister has got it good. You’re pretty sure she’s miserable.

She tells her assistant, Christa, to get her a coffee and Chrsita offers to get you one too with a sweet smile. You want to say “Yes,” but she looks awfully close to having a mental breakdown. You tell Christa, “No, thanks,” smiling gently back.

When she leaves, you turn and stare at your sister’s pursed lips.

You drove into the city for once and your sister could only make time for you to come and sit in one of the stiff chairs she has placed in front of her cocobolo desk; the chairs for clients. You look around her office.

It’s neater than David’s and ten times bigger.

Vast and white. A tundra of dreams scotch-taped together.

“You were almost late.” She says, annoyed, eyes stuck to the papers in front of her.

“Sorry, I had to get cough drops at the pharmacy.”

“You’re sick?”

“Just a sore throat.”

You lean forward to poke her cheek. She squawks and slaps your hand away, scandalized and disgusted.

“That’s disgusting!”

You laugh and she steels you with a hard glare, a scoff caught in the back of her throat. “I do wash my hands,” you tell her.

She shakes her head and drums her perfectly manicured French tips against the heavy table. You tuck your own hands under your thighs. You like her nails; you want yours to look like hers but they’re inconvenient for people like you. Real people, with real lives and realistic, boring jobs.

But it's nice to look at them, especially on your sister.

“Heard from David?” She asks as if she isn’t divorcing him. Like he’s a houseplant that you’re taking care of while she takes a quick business trip.

New York. London. Shanghai. Amsterdam. Seoul. You’ve seen the photos.

“Nope.” You bite your lip and Christa comes with the coffee. A cappuccino that she places in front of your sister. Black. Tiny, little cup. Christa gives you a dazzling smile that has you grinning back at her fully, like an indulged schoolgirl. And then she’s gone; clicking off to document review in her little black heels.

Your sister glares at that.

You look her over.

Look at the way she’s curled her lashes and glossed her lips. Her shirt is buttoned straight– stiff and crisp around her neck. There’s a little permanent divot between her eyebrows and the white light of the office washes her out.

“You look tired,” you say flatly, a fairly normal thing to say to a woman who’s a criminal lawyer for an inner-city law firm.

She barely looks at you. “Thanks.”

And then it’s her turn to look you over. You’re sure she doesn’t like what she sees. She rarely does. “Have you been eating?”

“Of course I have.”

She stares for a moment longer before saying, “Just checking.”

Someone knocks on the door and peaks their head in– a young man with dark hair. Bright hazel eyes. She glares at him wordlessly and he makes eye contact with you before shutting the door quickly. You watch her scoff and then carefully pick up a pen before signing the papers gently; like hemlock and hummingbirds.

Your sister. Elegant.

You tilt your head.

She starts. “So, any luck-“

“Oh, can we please go five minutes-“

“I was going to ask-“

“-without talking about-“

“-about your job!”

“-things I know you don’t care about!” You stare at her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine. We won’t talk about it.

You smile. “I like your shirt.”

“Fuck off.” She flips open a stack of papers with a fit of impressive anger, scribbling something hotly in the margins.

You know she doesn’t hate you but sometimes you have to wonder.

She’s mean and a bitch; but she constantly worries— and she worries more about you than anyone else. More than she ever worried about David. Which says quite a bit about what the two of you have done and put up with for one another.

Your sister: less of a counterpart, more of a weird black shadow of a half-twin. Not the moon and the sun; but a tree and the ferns that grow underneath.

Your sister stares at her cooling cup of coffee and looks into your eyes like they’re blurry. “Do you need money?”

Her solution to everything. A pretty good one, you won’t lie. “No.” You say quickly, waving her off.

“So everything’s good then?”

“Yeah. Good. It’s all good.”

She raises a brow but looks away to read something.

“How about you?” You ask.

She sighs heavily and stares at the wall. “Well,” and for a moment she doesn’t look like your sister. More like any other woman– any other person experiencing life for the first time. She’s thinking about her job and her home; the wonders and horrors of burnt toast and manilla folders. Of sending people to jail or keeping them out of it. Of going to bed in her 1200 thread count, Egyptian-cotton bed set.

Then she blinks, as if remembering who she is, and suddenly your sister’s sitting in front of you again.

“It’s alright. Fine. Boring.”

“Makes sense.” You tell her with a nod.

“How’s Mac?” She asks off-handedly, eyes on her work. Mac. Full name Tarmac. The stray cat that’s been haunting your house for the past couple of years. A dumb, skinny little cat who loved you with all of his heart.

“Dead.”

“What?” Your sister exclaims, wrist dropping to the edge of the table, pen still in hand. “How are you not,, a wreck?”

“It happened a few months ago.”

“God.” She finally takes a sip of her cappuccino and clears her throat. “Well, just don’t get upset one night and, I dunno, drink yourself into a sobbing mess.”

You grimace. “Says you.”

She sends you a hard glare. “Don’t.”

“I’m not the one who had to be bailed out of-“

“When are you going to stop bringing that up?” She groans. You laugh a bit now, dropping your head towards your lap and your sister looks properly embarrassed. “I passed the bar, have a Porsche, and have a personal trainer, ya know!”

You laugh harder. You can tell she finds it almost funny too but is raging too hotly to care.

“And then I had to-“

“Stop!” She exclaims.

You leave her alone but still giggle through it, fingers pressing against your lips in a complete failure to contain your amusement.

There’s another beat of silence.

She takes another sip. You watch her. Christa comes by again with a new, impressively thick stack of papers for your sister and walks out.

“Where’s your shirt from?” You ask your sister, eyeing it. “It’s nice.”

“Balenciaga.”

Pricey. The white, simple, button-up shirt she’s wearing probably cost her more than a hundred dollars.

“Is it cotton?” You ask her, leaning forward for a better look.

“Yes.” She side-eyes you warily. You lean back. “You better not steal it.”

“I’m not going to!”

“You’ve done it before.”

You roll your eyes.

Your sister finishes her coffee off in silence. It’s awfully quiet for a law firm. You wonder if her office walls are sound-proofed.

At some point, she tells you she has a meeting and that you need to leave. She’s in a good enough mood to at least walk you out herself.

In the firm’s garage building the two of you wait for the valet to bring your car.

She looks strange, sad, lonely. You love her. But you don’t know what to do about it because she gives you no place to put it. That’s just who she is. Her person. Being in a constant state of distress is part of her identity and really, there’s no escaping it. Self-imposed, mortal limbo.

“You’ll be okay?” She asks gently, like for once she means it.

“Yeah.” You tell her, tender. Human. “You?”

“Of course. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry about your divorce.” You finally tell her. You didn’t say it at first when it was too new and too fresh. When she was more concerned with paperwork than emotional damage.

She shakes her head like the mention of it is merely a fly in her face. “Don’t apologize. I wanted to thank you for bringing those papers to David.”

“Anytime.”

“It’s just, you live nearby and it would have been easier for you to do it than Christa, and-“

“Seriously.” You cut her off. “It’s fine.”

She sighs and looks you over. It’s a long, extended look of softness. Mike looked at Abby the same way. But it’s a rarity from her; one that has you giving her a confused smile, hands going into the pockets of your jacket— the nicest, crispest one you own— as she stares.

“What?” You ask.

She steps forward, raising an arm, and you step back. She huffs, annoyed. “I wanted to give you a hug but you ruined the moment.”

You scoff incredulously. “You’re so weird.”

She glares. “Fuck you.”

The valet comes with your car.

Shitty, and old. Reliable and well-loved. Needs an oil change.

You step around to the driver’s side and the valet places your keys warmly in your palm. Your sister stays in the spot you left her in.

“Bye.” She says stiffly.

“See you soon.”

She glances at the valet. “Right.”

“Give me a smile?” You joke. You see her right hand twitch to flip you off but with the audience she contains herself. All she gives you is a deep-seated, disappointed frown and a shake of her head.

You grin and step into your car before driving off.

Even as you pull out of the garage you can see her standing still in that over-priced button-up shirt; arms wrapped around her torso, watching you go.

You tell yourself she’ll be okay but when a song from your childhood plays on the radio you doubt it.

Nostalgia will kill you before she ever does.

[harrywavycurly]

Eddie Munson x Not A Genie!Reader Part 2: Do you like it?✨

Part 1: Here

Tag List: @storiesbyrhi

A/N: I’m not sure what to call this series/story because you’re not a genie in this series because you don’t grant wishes BUT you do live in a bottle and help Eddie out whenever he needs it, but anyway enjoy!

To say Eddie is overwhelmed is an understatement as he looks around his living room. When he left for work this morning he had a sad excuse of a sofa, a coffee table that was one bump away from collapsing and a normal sized television that sat on an old dresser he used as a tv stand. But when he opened his front door after a long shift at the garage he all of a sudden had a brand new couch that looked more comfortable than his bed, a coffee table with random magazines and a vase full of flowers on it and a tv stand with a giant television sitting on it along with your bottle that had the lid off it letting him know you were somewhere in his apartment.

“Oh good you’re home!” Your voice is bubbly as you walk out of the kitchen with a cup of iced tea in your hand. “How was your day?” You ask as you hand him the glass and begin taking off his jacket for him so you can hang it on the coatrack by the front door.

“Uh it was good.” He answers making you smile as you grab his free hand and lead him into the kitchen. “You’ve been uhm…busy I see?” Eddie feels his eyes go wide when he looks at the table and sees its full of all his favorite things to eat.

“I didn’t want to seem useless while you’re at work and your couch wasn’t very comfortable so I replaced it but then it didn’t go with your coffee table so I had to replace that as well and next thing I knew your whole living room was…uh well what it is now.” Eddie doesn’t know what to say as you pull out the chair so he can sit down. “Do you like it?” Eddie hears a hint of nervousness in your voice making him turn his head so he’s looking at so you can see him nod his head and give you a smile.

“Yes it’s uhm…it’s great I just…how did you do all of it?” He asks as he watches you begin to make him a plate, that’s when he looks around the kitchen and notices your redecorating didn’t just end in the living room, he has a brand new refrigerator and oven as well as a whole new black plate and bowl set.

“I just make things appear…I figured you like the color black so picking the colors for your new dishes was easy…I almost picked pink but didn’t want you to be upset.” Eddie knows you’re joking by the way you giggle to yourself as you scoop some mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Just wait till you see the bedroom.” Eddie raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip of his tea you handed him when he walked in the front door.

“You redid the bedroom?” You just smile and nod as you put a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on his plate. “What does your bedroom look like?” He doesn’t know why he asked but he’s been curious as to what the inside of your bottle looks like since you appeared in his living room two days ago.

“Oh uhm…that’s kinda private.” Eddie can’t help but enjoy how your cheeks go a little pink as you politely tell him to fuck off, in your own way of course. “Maybe one day I’ll give you a tour.” You add, worried your previous answer was too rude.

“That would be cool…uhm so mashed potatoes and a peanut butter and jelly with a side of…Mac and cheese huh?” You grin as you put his plate in front of him and take a seat in the chair next to him.

“I also made apple pie and chocolate pudding for dessert.” Eddie can’t help but feel a sense of joy as he looks at you, it’s as if your emotions are so strong they overflow into whoever you’re near and right now you’re extremely happy. “Oh I’m sorry…let me just get that for you.” Eddie rolls his eyes as you reach over and begin cutting the crust off his sandwich.

“You don’t have to do that.” He mumbles but he knows it’s useless because you enjoy doing things like this and he for some odd reason wants to keep you happy so he just sneaks a look over at you and smiles when he sees the look of pure joy on your face all from cutting some crust off his sandwich.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 3

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: If you read my Christmas Advent stories then you may be familiar with this story already, however, I've been working hard to turn it into a longer fic and as such a few things have changed (hence the reposts). New chapters will commence next week. I hope you enjoy! Let me know if you want me to be added to the taglist

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Jensen and I continue texting whenever we can around our busy schedules. I consider more than a few times over the weekend to throw caution to the wind and meet up with him in his hotel room or invite him to my apartment. But in the end, I manage to stay strong, stick to my convictions and better judgements regarding my safety, and text instead. Despite not having the courage to call, it feels like we’re building a connection. But even if I had the courage, he’s been pretty busy and the texts have been sporadic with replies coming in hours apart. He did say he had to work, so I just figure he’s busy with auditions or meetings and am grateful for him making the time to text amidst the chaos. 

One thing I do is Google his name to find out what he’s starred in. His biggest project appears to be a horror show called Supernatural. I consider watching it just to see, but I don’t want to get a false idea of who he is, so I decide to stay blissfully ignorant and try to get to know him for who he is as a person instead. He did say he preferred that, after all.

It’s almost dark when I finally strip off my apron and hang it on the hook in the staff room. I collect my phone and jacket from the locker and return to the dining area to leave. I check my missed notifications as I walk out. I find my mood dropping slightly when I discover there’s none from Jensen. Instead, I scroll through our last text-chain. Suddenly, I collide with something solid–or perhaps I should say, someone, causing my phone to shatter to the floor. I quickly duck down to inspect the screen, only to find it littered with cracks. I sigh and then remember the person I ran into. I look up to apologise but lose all words when I meet his emerald eyes. I just smile in shock. Even with his pulled-down baseball cap and dark sunglasses, and after a single meeting, I instantly recognise him.

“You really gotta stop running into me like this,” the man says with a laugh.

“Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?”

“As I recall, that didn’t end well. Regardless, I can’t stay long, I do have a flight to catch. I just really wanted to see you again before I left.”

“You sure you can’t stay?”

“I’m sure. Someday. Let’s just promise to stay in touch.”

“I promise. At least just let me make you something for the road.”

“You look like you’ve already finished for the day. Go rest. You look exhausted. We’ll talk later.”

“Alright. Have a safe flight.”

He pulls me in for a brief hug and then disappears out onto the street and into a dark Range Rover. I smile at the whirlwind visit and then go back to my apartment. I throw a microwave mac and cheese dinner in to cook while I shower and change into my worn-out PJs, which consist of an oversized sweater with a teddy on the front and pink, plaid flannel pants. I’m not sure how long his flight will be but by the time I sit on the couch with my cheap and unappealing dinner in my lap, over an hour has passed. Despite not knowing when he’ll see the message, I decide to text him anyway.

It was great to run into you again *literally*... I am sorry about that, I really need to watch where I’m going Have a nice flight home or wherever you’re going Text me when you get there 

Not expecting a response until later, I put my phone to sleep and flick through the TV channels. To my surprise, Supernatural is airing. I have no idea what episode or season it is, or what they’re up to, but when Jensen’s face appears on the screen I’m unable to bring myself to change the channel. Despite my initial desire to stay ignorant, I just can’t look away. I gasp and try to resist the urge to look away when his character, who I’ve gathered is called Dean, slices off someone or something’s head. But somehow he manages to make decapitation attractive. Every expression on his face keeps my eyes glued and I find myself getting even more engrossed. He tells the story so well even though I don’t really know what the full story is. His taller brother in the show is also incredibly attractive. The longer I watch, the more I find myself not caring about the plot and just enjoying the eye candy instead. Part of me feels a little guilty for looking and thinking about Jensen like that when he seems like such a nice, genuine guy in real life. And he genuinely seems interested in pursuing a friendship — or hopefully more — in the future. 

Once the episode ends I force myself to switch off the TV, clean up and go to bed; I have another early shift tomorrow. As I lay in bed, the images of Dean – or Jensen – flow through my head. Unable to sleep, Idecide to text him again.

I guess you’re still on your flight Just wanted to let you know I saw you on TV tonight Your show Supernatural was on when I was flicking through the channels Can’t say as I picked up on a lot of the plot but I can see why the paparazzi follow you Anyway, I’ll stop bombarding you now Good night

I force myself to switch my phone onto sleep mode and plug it in to charge. As I lay in bed, I relive the impromptu meeting until I finally fall asleep.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2

[butchreg]

regressor alphabet for sisters barnes && paxton from heretic

literally nobody asked for this but i finally was able to watch heretic recently and this was on my mind so grahhrg. sister barnes is literally me if you even care. >_< aut4aut implied :3 , probably ooc im sorry :C i tried... started this at like 7:30 or 8 this morning and only finishing now gughh.. alphabet found here

A - activities (what are their favorite activities to do while regressed ?)

barnes is much more of a laid back regressor. she likes reading best of all.

paxton on the other hand is much more playful. she likes playing pretend and dress up a lot.

B - blankies (do they have a favorite blanket ? what does it look like ?)

i see barnes as more of a quilt person. i think it'd be a typical patchwork quilt, made by a mother or grandmother and it would be too precious for her to carry around - she wouldn't want to get it dirty but when she's feeling upset she'll just climb into bed and bury herself in it.

paxton has a plain rose pink baby blanket from her childhood that she carries around everywhere when she's regressed. if her blanket comes out it's a telltale time she's feeling little.

C - cuddles (do they enjoy cuddling ? how do they like to cuddle ?)

barnes has a very big aversion to touch most of the time due to being autistic but if she's feeling small enough she likes to cuddle with paxton.

paxton is a big snuggler but usually cuddles with a big pile of stuffed animals.

she gets Soouper excited whenever barnes is feeling okay to cuddle. barnes likes to curl up as small as possible with one of paxton's plushies, curling wordlessly into paxton's side. on the occasion of barnes being littler than her like in these instances paxton will squeal and be super excited about baby barnes, giving her as many pats as she'll allow.

D - dinner (what is their favorite meal to eat for dinner when regressed ?)

barnes is not a big eater. she does her best but oftentimes skips or forgets meals especially while regressed. she's partial to a snack of cheese and crackers and some juice, cranberry or apple, but full meals are difficult for her.

paxton loves mac n cheese, mostly boxed kinds like kraft or annies. she Especially loves the shaped kind, the bunnies annies or spongebob kraft ones.

E - emotions (do they get emotional when they regress ? do any emotions trigger them to regress ?)

barnes is very much an involuntary regressor, typically regressing as a result of traumatic instances / memories or due to negative emotion. she can be fussy, crying a lot or isolating from other people. her regression is a time for her to feel all of her big feelings she may otherwise repress or minimize. if she's baby or toddler age she'll be much more clingy than distant, getting weepy if she's left entirely alone.

paxton tends to regress a mix of voluntarily and involuntarily and it's generally due to high levels of emotion whether they are positive or negative. she tends to be excited about everything when regressed, letting herself stim much more freely. she tends to be quite the yapper no matter whether regressed or not but if she gets overexcited or overstimulated she tends to go nonverbal. sometimes this frustrates her, leading to other more negative emotions causing her to cry or become upset.

F - food (what are their favorite foods or snacks to eat when regressed ?)

barnes tends to snack on baby puffs no matter her regression age. she also loves her bottles when she's really small though she can get a bit shy of this fact when she's not regressed or older.

paxton is not a very picky eater but when it comes to snacks she especially loves things like graham crackers when she's old enough to eat them.

G - giggles (what makes them laugh ? what do they find funny ?)

barnes is partial to wry humor even while regressed. she's not a big giggler, or one to laugh out loud much, another thing that's not different from her typical self.

paxton on the other hand is a HUGE giggler. she finds everything funny when she's little. she doesn't always pick up on sarcasm, cocking her head like a puppy in confusion but whether its immature potty humor or even something meant to be serious she's giggling.

paxton is always trying to make barnes laugh but oftentimes she can't get her whole joke out before she starts laughing.

H - hugs (do they like hugging ? when do they hug ?)

noooo barnes is not a fan of hugs D: . sometimes paxton can get away with a small one but from anyone else there's no chance. i previously mentioned her aversion to touch but hugs are especially unpleasant for her.

paxton does typically like hugs. she's not as big of a hugger as she is a cuddler but she loves a nice firm hug as well. she very much is a physical person she likes to express her affection through physical touch.

I - imagination (do they use their imagination a lot when playing ?)

barnes doesn't tend to play much. she's much more laid back and reserved. she tends to keep to her books and to observing others, she likes to watch paxton play but finds it hard to join in. she tends to think more literally and struggles to break out of that line of thinking.

paxton on the other hand is very imaginative with playing. she loves playing pretend, always making up detailed lore for her games. she loves playing dress up as well, those are her two favorites. she can find a way to play with just about anything !

J - jammies (do they have a pair of pajamas they wear when going to bed ? what does it look like ?)

no barnes doesn't, she doesn't have much regression gear or childish clothing at all. she tends to wear simple black athletic type comfortable clothing to bed.

paxton is a fan of nightgowns. she has lots of them, some having been made by relatives, some having been bought with the intention to use while regressed. they tend to be floral or otherwise patterned fairly simply.

K - kissies (do they like (platonic) kisses ? do they like to give or receive them ?)

barnes is vehemently against kisses from most people. she's used to them and will put up with them, but she can't keep herself from grimacing and wiping the spot when she's in an appropriate setting to do so. when she's regressed further she may cry or fuss if someone attempts to give her kisses even if they're well meaning.

paxton feels weird about kisses. they tend to make her uncomfortable though when she's small enough she does skew more towards enjoying receiving little kisses on her forehead.

L - lullabies (do they have a favorite lullaby to listen to as they go to sleep ?)

not a specific lullaby but barnes loves listening to classical music, both when she's sleepy and just in general.

paxton will sometimes listen to hymns to fall asleep, namely ones she knows by heart. random headcanon that she was a part of the choir as a girl and she listens to those anthems and hymns to get to sleep. as a choir kid she seems like one (derogatory but affectionate as well /lh). they comfort her and strangely seem to help her regress.

M - movies (what is their favorite movie to watch when regressed ? what genre is it ?)

i think barnes would freak with howls moving castle :3 also likely age "inappropriate" films like horror films and more philosophical films.

paxton is into animated films. she likes disney animated films but is also a fan of studio ghibli and musicals such as the sound of music.

N - nicknames (do they have any preferred nicknames they would want a cg to use ?)

"baby" makes barnes feel reeeaally tiny and all blushy. being called baby is an instant trigger for regression. she's not a biiig fan of nicknames but "kit" also makes her smiley. she's just a lil kitten sometimes.

paxton loves nicknames. she likes cutesy and girly ones like "bun", "sugar", and "princess" best.

O - oops! (do they tend to be clumsy or make a lot of mistakes when regressed ?)

barnes not much. she's more sedentary while regressed so not as many opportunities come up for her to fall over. occasionally she'll spill her juice or have another minor slip up but even that is enough to leave baby barnes in tears. being autistic she at times struggles with recognizing her own needs which at times leads to accidents even when she's regressed on the older side. this often causes panic attacks or shutdowns poor baby :C . she tends to use padding just in case but she also is one to beat herself up about it especially when she uses it.

paxton is not suuuper clumsy while regressed but there's definitely a notable difference between her typical self and her small self. mostly she'll trip over her own feet a lot more frequently. she tends to brush off mistakes more easily than barnes while regressed though she is often harder on herself while not regressed. she gets a bit frustrated when she makes a silly mistake like coloring outside the lines but she moves on quickly. she's a bit more playful about them, brushing them off with an "oopsies" or something of the sort.

P - pacifier (do they use pacis ? what does their paci look like ?)

barnes does not use a pacifier, not having any real regression gear aside from one simple bottle. occasionally she'll suck or gnaw on her fingers but she's not really interested in a pacifier of her own. maybe a teether but she feels too shy to try either.

paxton is much more of a thumb sucker to her shame but if she has a paci on her she'll try to remember to use it. she has a simple pink one and a simple white one. she likes the pink one better though.

Q - quiet time (do they enjoy quiet activities ? what do they like to do during quiet time ?)

yes yes, barnes is a Big fan of quiet time ! she loves reading all types of books and people watching. sometimes she'll hum to herself while doodling but mostly she reads. regressed ! barnes is one of those kids who will go through a book in an afternoon.

paxton finds it hard to sit still or be quiet especially while regressed so she doesn't enjoy it nearly as much as barnes but she does like to color quietly sometimes. she's a big colorer, she's filled up so many coloring books.

R - regression (how often do they regress ? how do they behave when they regress ?)

it's out of barnes's control as her regression is involuntary but it happens more frequently than she'd like. she's good at hiding the fact that she's regressed but maybe a few times a week she'll let the mask slip. she's quiet and reserved, being pretty much entirely nonverbal no matter her regression age. she primarily communicates through sign or with nonverbal sounds and facial expressions. she regresses to a wide range of ages from babyspace to just a few years younger than her actual age. her regression tends to be an outlet for her negative emotions leading her to sometimes act in self destructive ways.

paxton tries to schedule her regression, keeping it to no more than two days a week of full regression but she tends to regress a bit more often than that with her regression being partially involuntary. she acts similarly to how she does while not regressed, she's a permaregressor in my eyes but just doesn't have the word for it. even when she regresses younger or entirely she's pretty similar to her "normal" self. she's more open about her regression than barnes who tries to keep hers a secret, and much more comfortable about using gear. she tends to use padding pretty often as well but it's much less embarrassing for her than it is for barnes.

S - stuffies (do they have stuffed animals ? what are their names ? what do they look like ?)

barnes has one stuffed animal, a ragged creature that was probably a bear though it certainly doesn't look like one anymore. it was white when she first got it but now it's some kind of brown. it was a gift from her dad when she was really little, not one that she really latched onto until after his death. after his passing, however, he never leaves her side if she's at home. i think she's one of those kids who were made to give away the majority of her stuffies once she got a bit older, but she always kept her bear from her dad.

paxton has LOTS of stuffed animals. some are handmade and some aren't but she always has one on hand. if barnes is especially fussy she's there with one of her plushies, always a different one, to try and cheer her up. she doesn't really have any particular favorites, "it wouldn't be fair to them :L" she says. those who are aware of her regression are always surprised at how many she has, she seems to always have a new one.

T - temper (do they have a temper ? do they throw temper tantrums often, or at all ?)

no neither of them really have full on temper tantrums. paxton comes closer but it's not really out of anger when she has outbursts, more of overstimulation or another misplaced emotion.

U - upset (how do they express being upset when regressed ?)

barnes is a crier. if she's a bit older she tends to isolate as well but there's always tears. she's trained herself to be a silent crier, sometimes even paxton doesn't notice when she gets teary but if she's super tiny she'll full on weep which definitely gets her attention.

paxton crosses her arms and pouts, sometimes stamping her foot or audibly making a sound of frustration. when she gets really frustrated she gets teary. she is more open about her crying, doing so loudly and without shame.

V - voice (do they speak in a different tone of voice when regressed ? how is it different from their normal voice ?)

barnes doesn't speak coherently while regressed but she does sometimes babble a bit when she's a littol baby. it can be a bit comical to hear her babbling in her typical deeper voice but don't you dare laugh at her she's very self conscious.

paxton's voice is mostly the same, perhaps her words are a bit more slurred (don't think that's quite the word but can't think of the better fitting one) but she's just as much of a yapper as always.

W - warm (what makes them feel all warm and fuzzy ?)

for barnes one thing is definitely being called "baby" like mentioned early. she also wears mostly sweaters when she's regressed which were made by a family member. they make her feel real safe and cozy.

for paxton one thing is being regressed with barnes especially when she gets the typically stoic barnes to smile or laugh. also basically any animal, she sees one outside the window or on the street and gets super fuzzy inside.

X - (e)xtra (additional headcanons ?)

not related to regression really but i will just say there is yuri everywhere including in the church of jesus christ of latter-day saints ^w^

also both are autistic and paxton has adhd as well

Y - yucky! (what do they dislike?)

they both have sensory issues so not fans of the typical things like loud noises, bright lights, large crowds, etc

barnes struggles with the textures of a lot of foods and fabrics. anything mushy is icky.

paxton hates wool and the rain, smell of wet wool is the worst and she hates being wet.

Z - zzz (what are some sleep habits of theirs ? do they take naps often ? do they have a specific time for naptimes or bedtime ?)

barnes takes a lot of little cat naps. she tends to nap curled up in the sun like a kitten. she tries to go to bed around 9:30 every night but sometimes will get caught up in a book or another activity. typically she's good about it but sometimes needs some help getting to bed at a reasonable hour. she's not the best sleeper at night, getting to sleep is hard for her but once she's out she's out.

paxton is not much of a napper which can sometimes lead to her being cranky or fussy. she's a bit hypocritical in the sense that she's always on top of getting barnes to bed yet she refuses to take naps herself and often struggles getting herself to bed. she needs total darkness to sleep.

when she's on the older side paxton tends to stay up late in case littler barnes has forgotten about bedtime so she can get her to bed. barnes tends to do the same thing for paxton when she can as well.

[saxophonelover1160]

I just realized I don’t have any intro post of any sorts sooo

INTROOO!!!!! vvvv

I am Known by the people as 🥁🥁🥁

Disputed Bog! (Or ZestyFungPray if you happen to know me from somewhere elsseee…..)

When it comes to something Short and Simple, you can call me Mauro! Or any nickname for the other two names above! I don’t mind anything tbhhhh :P

I am Genderfluid! I use all pronouns, no real preference! Plealsskee use them all ur not obligated to ofc but I’d like ittt…😖💗

Gotta love my Home Country Naibsel! The woman there sure are pretty!

Some things I’m into are My Singing Monsters, ATEEZ, SAIKI K, The Amazing Digital Circus, TAWOG, Poppy Playtime, Welcome Home, and any game that’s been around for a while like Undertale, FNAF, and probably all of them that come to mind :3

I MAKE ART!!!!!!!!!

ART EXAMPLES:

Now just sum silly stuff abt me in general!

I like cats and giraffes and elephants!

I love Mac n Cheese and Garnaches!

I’m kinda bad at talking to people… I just get shy and freaked out!!!

Tone Tag users just know I love you guys so much……. Please always do what u DO😖

My favorite colors are ALL OF THEMM but I do tend to like pink, purple, and green!

I love scary movies! I get so so scared but it’s so fun!

I play Saxophone! Been playing it for about 4 years now! Oh how I love my saxophone…💗

I’m very indecisive… and I tend to be more of a people pleaser, but it’s something I personally am trying to get better at standing up for myself!

I jokingly use brain rot terms.. it’s getting to a point where I CANT STOP HELP

I always try and be the best person I can be! I Always try and be a person one can go to! I will always support you no matter what! I love being your BIGGEST FAN!!!

I congratulate you if you got this far, once I start I can’t stop..😅 have a splendid day, my friend! Love you lots!🫶🏾

[enderguardiangt]

How about the alliance members of your choice finding the way the resident human eats to be kinda interesting? Or maybe you can do something where they're interested in their biology?

OMG Thank you for the request (BTW, love your fanfics on ao3)

Colour codes for the Object Heads because I wanna switch my writing style on tumblr :)

Cameramen: Blue

Speakermen: Orange

TVmen: Purple

Titans: Red

Object Head Women: Pink

There we go.

Now, first skibidi fic, lets gooooo

Speakerman (OC: Oliver) x Reader

It is late in the afternoon, where the sun is starting to set. The units came back from their mission, some wounded and some had a few scratches and dents.

(Y/n), the human survivor that now resides in the Alliance base, sat in the mess hall, eating their meal. Just a simple recipe for mac and cheese they remembered back then... Before the toilet creatures took over.

Beside them, sat a humanoid figure with a dark grey speaker for a head. Yes, this object-headed figure is in fact one of the members of the Alliance. A speakerman, dressed in a fancy suit. He sat with his head propped up by his hands, curiously watching his human friend.

His curiosity didn't go unnoticed, the human stopped eating to look at the speakerman. "Oliver? What's up, bud?", (Y/n) asks him. Oliver, the speakerman in question, moves his hand and points towards their mouth and tilts his head. "You're wondering about my mouth?" A nod confirms it. "Oh, so you're wondering about that! Well, us humans need to consume food and water to keep ourselves alive. Our mouth isn't only just for speaking and sometimes breathing, it is used to take in the necessary things to survive." They explain briefly before resuming in eating their meal. They stop to continue, "The food goes in, our stomach processes it, then the needed nutrients are delivered to everywhere in our body through our blood. If we don't get enough food or water then, well, we die."

Oliver nods, as if saying 'Ahhh, so that's how it works.'

Fascinating, he thought. He watches the human finish their meal. The grey speaker headed man scratched the back of his neck. Being around the object head for a while, (Y/n) learnt what some gestures mean, "Oli, no need to apologize. You're more than welcome to ask me anything, whether it be about my biology or the way we do things. Please don't feel embarrassed!" The human threw themself at Oliver and wrapped their arms around his waist, giving him a hug.

His shoulders bounce slightly, his version of a chuckle, as he wrapped his arms around his friend. Oliver is just glad that the human doesn't find his curiosity annoying.

—

Short and sweet, but hopefully you like it! ^^