#how to get pink mac n cheese

[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.

[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 :)

[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.”

[pentacentric]

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

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

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

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

So he asks Dean what he would write about.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gross." Sam wrinkles his nose.

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

"'Cause they're not."

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

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

"Dean."

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

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

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

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

It's actually kind of lonely, sometimes.

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

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

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

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

He gets an A.

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

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

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

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

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

They remind him of her.

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

[petite-phthora]

So about that dinner…

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 2]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

Danny lets out a long groan as he enters his apartment.

He’s dead tired— hehe, ‘dead’ tired— due to an exhausting schoolday and having been unable to fall back asleep last night after what happened.

So sure, he might have started having a panic attack when he got back to his apartment when what he had just done had finally fully sunken in.

And he might have spiraled even more, even going as far as to try and trap himself in a Fenton thermos, thinking he was back on the path to becoming Dan.

Luckily for him, a green sticky note, left by his favorite unnecessarily cryptic mentor, appeared.

It let him know that he is no more on the path to becoming Dan than prior to the incident and that the actions he had taken that night, while vexatious, were necessary for the betterment of the timeline.

Whatever that means.

By the time he had come to terms with his actions enough to stop spiraling and remember that he has school soon. He checked the time, noticing that he only had a few minutes left until his next class started.

Which meant he had to sprint to his classes and start the day off already tired and emotionally drained. He hadn’t even been able to at least get a coffee beforehand. And so he spent the rest of the day fighting to stay awake during his lessons, sporting eye bags big enough to carry the weight of his sins.

Danny glances at the space-themed clock on the wall that Jazz had gotten him as a housewarming gift. 6 pm. He should probably get started on dinner.

Deciding to go with something simple, as he simply does not have the energy for anything fancy right now, Danny opens the cupboard and grabs the first thing he sees: a box of mac n cheese. Danny rubs his eyes and squints at the box, trying to read the instructions when he gets interrupted by a knock.

…

On his window.

…

Danny turns around to see Red Hood at his window, outside of his 3rd-floor apartment. He pauses before shrugging it off. Stranger things have happened. He sets the box down and makes his way over to the window. He opens the window once he reaches it, only to come face to face with a bouquet of sweet peas, the colors ranging from white and pink to lavender.

Oh, those are his favorite.

He gingerly takes the flowers before looking over the top of the bouquet at the person who handed them to him. Ah, yes. The crime lord. Who had seen him commit murder.

Danny stares at him, debating on whether he should ask him what he’s doing here or thank him for the flowers. Red Hood speaks up before Danny can make a decision.

“So about that dinner… ” He trails off, tone laced with hope and a slight nervousness.

“Right.” Danny nods with understanding, despite not having a clue what Red Hood was talking about, his joke the night before having slipped from his mind.

“I’ve got the entire night planned out for us. First, we’ll have dinner at Pete’s. They recently rebuilt and they have this amazing cannoli, you have to try it sometime.

“And then after dinner, we’ll go to the Gotham Observatory—“

Danny, not even questioning how the crime lord found out where he lives and that he loves space, cuts him off in excitement.

“Wait! Isn’t that the one with the crystal powered telescope?”

Red Hood nods and holds out a hand to him expectantly.

Danny stares at the hand for a moment before shrugging, setting the flowers down on a table, and taking the offered hand. He lets Red Hood lead him out of his own window.

Once Red Hood has helped him down to the ground and led him to his motorcycle, it dawns on Danny he’s going on a date(?) with a known crime lord�� or wasn’t it former crime lord now?

Well, who was Danny to refuse a trip to the observatory and some good cannoli?

Who knows, he might even get a new boyfriend out of it.

---

Red Hood takes his helmet off and sets it down on the table between them so he can eat.

Danny tries not to stare too much but damn, he’s handsome, even if he’s still wearing the mask.

Danny takes a bite of his food to try and distract himself, idly noting that ohhh, this is some good spaghetti. He'll have to try the cannoli if it's as good as their pasta.

Red Hood is the one to start the conversation.

“Hey, so, since we didn’t get to talk more last night, I still wanted to thank you for your service to the city”

“My what?”

“I’ve been wanting to kill that insane clown for years now.” Red Hood continues.

“And while I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t get to end his miserable existence myself, I’m so glad he’s finally gone. So, thank you” he says, looking Danny right in the eye with an earnest expression.

Feeling a mix of flustered at the heavy gaze that’s on him, and confused by the other’s words, Danny stammers out a bewildered “You’re… welcome?”

Red Hood nods at him before continuing.

“And you don’t have to worry about others finding out if you don’t want them to. I ain’t a snitch, and I’ll try to keep the Bats off your back the best I can.”

Danny gives him a nod in gratitude.

“Though honestly, I’d doubt you’d have to deal with much trouble even if people did know it was you who got rid of him.

“The Joker has done a lot of horrid shit and caused a lot of grief for Gotham over the years. He’s had it coming for a long time now, so don’t even feel too bad about it. It might even become a local holiday when his death comes out!”

However, something Red Hood had said stood out to Danny. He stiffens before blurting something out in a tone that sounded even more panicked than when he accidentally killed the clown.

“THAT CLOWN I PUNCHED WAS THE JOKER?!”

[tsams-and-co-memes]

LAES Earth Canon Info

Updated - 11/10/24

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

Baking sweets

Earth's dislikes:

Cottagecore

Drawing

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

Miscellaneous:

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

Superhero or monster movies

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

[topguncortez]

Even More Experience | Bradley Bradshaw

part 1 | masterlist

synopsis: You decide to take the next step with Bradley

word count: 3.1k

warnings: SMUT, virginity loss, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, age gap, oral sex (f receiving), a dash of corruption kink, a lil bit of daddy kink. Bradley is big, alright. This is porn with a dash of plot.

Rooster was proud of you. He knew how awful finals week could be, and from how you described your classes this semester, he was glad that chose an “easy” major. He had watched you for the last two weeks be in total study mode, going to bed at random times in the morning, living off of redbulls and granola bars, falling asleep with your contacts in and a highlighter in your hand. One too many mornings, he’d walk out to see you drooling on your business communication notes. 

If you would’ve told him six months ago, he’d be standing outside of a lecture hall, with a bouquet of flowers waiting for his girlfriend, he would’ve laughed at you. But here he was, waiting for his girlfriend outside of a lecture hall. He had been nervous at first, dating someone so much younger than him. There of course was the difference in maturity levels, but also the difference in experience. Rooster had been around the world, traveled faster than the speed of sound, almost died and live to tell the tale. The most you had done was move from Missouri to California for college. But Rooster loved you, and that was all that mattered to him. He hadn’t said those three little words yet, still scared that what he had with you was all a dream, but he knew that you could feel his love for you. 

You were wearing a simple white sundress with a jean jacket as you walked out of the lecture hall. The feeling of relief and happiness cursing through you like waves on the sand. You wouldn’t ever have to step back into this cinderblock hell and listen to your professor drone on about transtheoreticl theory. Bradley straightened up at the sound of your laughter and pushed off his bronco, grabbing the flowers from the drivers side. He met you halfway on the sidewalk, greeting you with a soft kiss on your lips. 

“What’s the occasion?” You asked. 

Rooster just shrugged, and put his arm around your shoulder, “Can’t get you flowers and pick you up just ‘cause I like you?” 

“Mm,” You looked up at him, “Nope!” He booped your nose as he opened the passenger door for you. He made sure you were secured in the bronco before jogging to the other side and getting in. 

Rooster drove right down to the beach, one of your favoirte places to be at. He grabbed your hand and lead you to your favoirte restaurant. He didn’t even stop and check in at the hostess, giving her a wink before leading you to your favorite table, right in front of a large bay window that looked out at the ocean. 

“My favorite restaurant, and my favorite spot to sit. . . What are you doing, Bradshaw?” You asked. 

Bradley, again, just shrugged, “You worked your ass off these past two weeks and I thought we should celebrate. And what better way,” He reached across the table and grabbed your hand, running his thumb over your skin, “Than with the best mac ‘n’ cheese on this side of the US.” You blushed and leaned halfway over the table. Rooster closed the distance and met your lips. 

And Rooster was right about the restaurant having the best mac ‘n’ cheese on this side of the US. The second best had to come from Bradley’s kitchen, a receipe that his mom had sworn by. You were glad that you met someone who could cook and had a strict schedule of eating every four hours. It was sometimes annoying when you’d be studying and he’d place a plate of apple slices and peanut butter right on your calculus homework. 

When your belly was fully and Bradley had paid the bill (much to your dislike), he took you for a walk on the beach. The sun was starting to set, filling the sky with beautiful oranges and pinks. You always loved the sunset, but you loved it even more with Bradley by your side. The vibrant colors made his eyes look like pools of honey and you could see the streaks of blonde in his hair from the California sun. His skin also seemed to glow with that sunkissed tan he seemed to always have. 

You were standing in his arms, your back against his chest, when you felt that familiar feeling settling between your legs. It had been happening more often since you and Bradley had started getting intimate. You still hadn’t gone all the way, but you were letting him go down on you pretty much anytime you wanted it. But, it was starting to not be enough for you. 

There was still that itch that needed to be scratched. And you were ready for it. 

You turned in Bradley’s arms, placing your hands on his chest. He looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t say anything, but placed your lips on his. His lips were always so soft, probably from the vaseline he put on them every morning and night. One of his hands snuck up your body, and rested at the base of your neck, holding you to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling his large body closer to your own.

You pulled away first, letting Bradley lean and try to chase your lips. You giggled, and moved one hand to his chest, resting right over his heart, “Bradley.” 

“Sweetheart,” He hummed. 

“I’m ready,” You blushed, looking down at your shoes before looking up at his honey brown eyes. 

“Ready?” He asked. 

“Yeah. . . for you to uh, for sex,” Your ears were ringing and you knew that you were as red as a tomato. You felt Bradley tense and youou closed your eyes, not wanting to see any sort of rejection in his eyes. But he cupped your cheek and lifted your head up a bit. 

“Look at me, sweetheart,” Bradley said softly, and you opened your eyes, “Are you one hundred percent sure, that this is what you want?” 

“Yes,” You said without hesitation, “I have thought about it a lot and I lo- I mean, I trust you,” You gulped and hoped Bradley didn't catch your near slip up. You grabbed Bradley’s hands and ran your thumb over his knuckles, "I'm ready."  

Bradley nodded and pulled you in for a kiss, “Let’s go home.” 

— — — 

The ride to his house was filled with an exciting buzz. Ever the gentleman, Bradley kept his hands to himself as he drove, fighting every urge to reach over and place his hand on your thigh. He didn’t want to be handsy, in case you changed your mind. But you reached over and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers and settling it in your lap. He glanced over at you ever so often, trying to guage your emotions. You had a small smile on your face as you hummed along to the songs on the radio. 

When you pulled into his driveway, you weren’t sure if you could maintain the same level of calm. You wanted him to take you right then and there like you had seen in all those pornos. Bradley let you go into the house first, kicking off his shoes and locking the door. It was a little awkward as you stood in the doorway, looking at each other, but you knew that he wanted you to make the first move. 

“Where is your room?” You asked, surprised that your voice didn’t crack. 

“Upstairs,” Bradley swallowed, “Second door on the right.” 

You nodded and grabbed his hand, leading him to the stairs. He watched your ass as you walked up the stairs in front of him. You puhsed open the second door on the right, like he had said, and stepped into it. It was a plain, light grey room with a king sized bed in the middle of it. There was a nightstand on either side, both with pictures sitting in frames and lamps. It was a stark contrast to your room, which showed off your personality, but the room still felt like Bradley. 

You stood awkwardly across the room from Bradley. He quietly shut the door, and emptied his pockets of his wallet, phone, and keys. You weren’t sure what the protocol from here was; do you sit on his bed? Do you just lie down on it? Do you take your dress off? 

Bradley must’ve sensed the nerves rolling off your body, cause he turned and walked right over to you. He gently tilted your head up with a hand on your cheek and pressed his lips to yours. Your hands tangled in his hair, while his other hand wrapped around your back, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his hardening length against your stomach, making your heart start to beat erratically. Bradley’s lips went from yours to your neck, kissing and sucking lightly. If it weren’t for his strong arms holding you up, you surely would be a puddle of want and need on the ground. 

“What do I do next?” You asked. Bradley grunted and pulled away from you. He could see your nipples straining against the flimsy fabric of your dress. 

“Can I take this off?” Bradley touched the thin straps of your dress. You nodded and lifted your hands above your head, a smile on your face. Bradley chuckled, and grabbed the bottom of your dress, pulling it above your head. You were bare on top, wearing only a pair of white lace panties, “Fuck, sweetheart,” Bradley’s finger trailed down your body, to your naval, touching the top of the flimsy panties you were wearing, “White. . . for a virgin.” 

“Mhm,” You nodded, biting your lip, “For you, daddy.” Bradley’s eyes fluttered shut at the sound of that little word. 

“All for me,” Bradley’s voice sounded as if he were in awe of you, something so precious and all for him, “Fuck. . . Get on the bed for me?” You nodded again, and climbed on the bed, sitting in the middle, leaning up against the pillows, “Looking like a goddamn gift straight from heaven. How did I get so fucking lucky?” 

“I think I’m the lucky one,” You blushed and Bradley shook his head. He gently crawled on the bed, up your body so he was hovering over you. He looked down at your body as if he were committing it to memory. You felt exposed under his brown eyes, and you lifted his eyes back to you, touching his cheek. 

“Am I making you nervous?” 

“A bit,” You mumbled, “I’ve just. . . I’ve never been naked like this- with a guy.” 

“We don’t have to do this,” Bradley said, caressing your hip, “If you want to put one of my shirts on, you can. Whatever is going to be the most comfortable for you.” 

“But you like me naked?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

“Of course,” Bradley kissed your cheek, and squeezed your hip reassuringly, “But if you don’t want to be naked in front of me, you can wear one of my shirts, or I think you left a bra here.” 

You shook your head. If you were giving yourself to Bradley, you wanted to give your whole self to him. You grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, kissing his knuckles, “I’m okay with being naked. You make me feel safe.” 

Bradley looked up at you, and you knew what he wanted to say. It was so clearly written in his eyes, and it was ready to slip off his tongue, but he withheld it. It nearly pained him to hold back those three little words, but he swallowed them by kissing your lips. 

“I’m gonna get you ready for me,” Bradley said. 

“Gonna go down on me?” You asked, leaning up to chase his lips as he moved to kiss his way down your body. He nodded and felt the excitement roll through your body. He swore that there was nothing you loved more than when he was on his knees for you. And it was a good thing that Bradley loved doing it. 

Bradley kissed both of your hip bones before he licked a stripe from your hole to your clit. You gasped, arching your back and tangling your fingers in his hair. His name fell from your lips like a prayer as he ate your cunt. His nose was nudging at your clit, as his tongue fucked your opening. You felt your thighs beginning to shake and close in around his head. Bradley pulled back from you, placing a kiss on your pussylips, before leaning over to the bedside table and getting out a bottle of lube. 

“What is that?” You asked. 

“Lube,” Bradley said, giving you the bottle so you could read it over. He learned that from early on, that you liked to read about the things he tells you, “You’re wet, but this is gonna help. Nothing wrong with using a little lube to help make things slide easier.” 

“Ew,” You scrunch your nose, “Sounds dirty when you say ‘slide easier’” 

“Sorry, honey,” Bradley chuckled, as you handed back the lube, “You ready?” 

“Please, Bradley,” You nod.

Bradley kissed you before sitting back on his heels, taking his dick into his hands. You watched him pump his cock a couple of times, before taking the lube and spreading it over himself. He let out a guttural groan at the feeling. You never realized how big Bradley was until you saw his hand wrap around himself. 

“Bradley,” He lifts his head to look at you, “Is it, will it fit?” You squeak out. 

He looks down at himself for a moment and then at you, “Yeah, I think,” He took his fingers and swiped them over your cunt, spreading the lube around and pushing some into your weeping hole, “And if it doesn’t, that’s okay. You tell me if it hurts, or if it’s too much,” He leaned down on his elbow, and with one hand, he guided his cock to his entrance. Ever so slowly, Bradley pushed his tip in. You sucked in a breath, feeling yourself being stretched. Bradley watched your face, your eyelids slowly fluttering to relax your body. 

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Bradley’s voice was strained as he pushed the tip of his cock into you, “Good girl.” 

“More, Bradley, please,” Your hands gripped his body, trying to pull him in closer. 

“Gotta go slow,” Bradley grunted, pushing into you slowly. 

He took his time with you, not wanting to go too fast and hurt you. You were tight, squeezing Bradley oh so well as he broke through that precious barrier, seating himself inside you. You felt stuffed to the brim with Bradley’s cock inside you, whimpering not only from pain but from pleasure. His hips moved in fluid strokes, pulling out and pushing back into you. A wanton moan left your lips as you tilted your head back in pleasure. Bradley’s rough hand moved down your side, grabbing your thigh and hooking it over his hip, giving him an even deeper angle. 

“Oh my god,” You moaned, your nails digging into Bradley’s back. 

“Fucking hell,” Bradley grunted. He wasn’t going to last. There was no way he could with the way you were gripping him so tightly and the sounds you were letting out. He squeezed his eyes shut as he buried his face into your neck, breathing in your scent, “I-I’m not gonna last.” 

You nodded your head, your mind clouded in pleasure, “Okay, Bradley.” 

Bradley couldn’t hold back his release any longer. His grip on your hip tightened as he closed his eyes, and pushed his hips as far into you as he could get them. You let out a gasp as you felt his cum coat your walls, his grunts filling your ears as he fucked himself through his orgasm. 

“Oh shit, honey, oh my god,” Bradley groaned out, his hips stilling. You looked up at him with wide eyes, as if he had just handed you the world on a silver platter, “I’m sorry, baby.” Bradley kissed your lips, “I didn’t think I would cum that quick.” 

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, running your fingers through his hair. 

“Cause I should’ve gotten you off first,” His lips trailed over your collarbones, “I wanted to make you finish before I did.” 

“It’s okay-” 

“No,” Bradley pulled back from you, shaking his head, “I know you might not cum every time, but you at least deserve an orgasm for your first time.” 

You smiled and kissed his nose. You wrapped your arms around his upper body, taking in a deep breath and relishing in the feeling of his body on top of yours. Being with Bradley was like having a weighted blanket around all the time. 

“I gotta pull out now,” Bradley said against your skin, “It might hurt. . . and there might be blood,” You nodded, “Take in a breath,” You did as he told, “And breath out,” When you took your breath out, Bradley gently slipped out of your cunt. You couldn’t help but whimper at the loss of contact. He tried to bite back his smirk, but it was useless, “Stay put, I’m gonna get a towel and clean you.” 

You giggled as you watched Bradley’s bare ass shuffle to the bathroom, quickly grabbing a washcloth and wetting it. You sat up on your elbows and looked down between your legs, finding light red blood and cum leaking out of you. Instantly you felt guilty and embarrassed about the mess that was leaking out of you and onto Bradley’s duvet. 

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, making you look up from the mess, “It’s alright. I need to wash my sheets anyway,” You still had a frown on your face as Bradley kneeled between your spread legs, “Y/N, look at me.” You looked up at him, and he gave you a soft smile, “This isn’t something to be embarrassed about. I’m not scared of a lil blood and some cum, a’right?” 

Your ears felt hot as you nodded and Bradley kissed your cheek, before gently cleaning up the mess in between your legs. 

“How about, I start you a bath, and I’ll change the sheets and get us some snacks?” Bradley asked. 

“Sounds like a dream, baby,” You said softly, “As long as you add in the bubbles and the pink bath bomb.” 

Bradley scoffed, “How could I forget?” You let out a squeal as Bradley picked you up bridal style. You leaned your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he walked to the bathroom. Bradley felt his heart clench in his chest, as he placed a kiss on the top of your head. Before he could walk away, you grabbed his hand, stopping him. 

“What is it, baby?” Bradley asked, his eyes filling with worry.

Those three little words were right on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to say them, you really, really wanted to. But when you opened your mouth to say them, no words fell out.

You closed your mouth and gave Bradley a tight lipped smile, and shook your head, "Nothing, just make sure the water is hot."

Bradley nodded and kiss your cheek, "Always."

taglist: @damrlova @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388 @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines  @bradleybeachbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @bradshawseresinbabe @munsonswhore86 @happypopcornprincess @Sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe

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note: should I keep going with these two or. . . cause I got some ideas

[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.

[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

[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 your 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 you’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

[yelenasdiary]

I'm in the need of some ceo! Yelena x fem! Reader fluff or something and your writing is just so gooood. So if you're up to this, it would be great:)

No, We Did It!

Pairing: CEO! Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader

Summary: Since Yelena started her own business, she’s been busy. Putting a lot of her focus on making sure things are running smoothly and you’re there to make sure she’s not overworking herself. 

Tiny Angst? Like really small? You might miss it if you blink? | Fluff | No Warnings | 1K | 

Translation: малыш (baby), милый (darling),

AC: I am always up for Yelena content or any kind! I miss her so much; I hope you enjoy this!! xx

You knew when your girlfriend decided to start her own business that it was going to take up a lot of her time, she's stepped back from doing missions and put more of her focus on making her business. Yelena had this idea to make things that anybody could use to protect themselves, from clothing to different gadgets, she was proud of what she'd made of her business, and you were beyond proud of her. 

Of course, it wasn't always easy, there were many nights where you missed her, late a night when it was cold, and you wished she was beside you to cuddle up against. Not saying Fanny did a horrible job at keeping you warm but it was safe to say you both missed her, even more than when she used to go on missions. 

Today was a big day for Yelena and her business, she was hoping to strike a deal, an international deal to begin selling her products worldwide. All her time was spent at the office and every day you popped into the office with lunch for her and to give her a little extra hand before you'd go home and cook something for her for dinner. 

You were in the process of making Yelena's favorite, mac n cheese. A win, win kind of meal. If she didn't get the contract, she'd have her comfort food to help but is she did get the contract, she could celebrate with her favorite meal. Fanny laid by your feet while you stood by the stove, stirring the pasta before adding the extra ingredients. Things were almost ready when your phone buzzed. 

"малыш, can you come to the office? Really need you here" 

Yelena's text worried you, you looked down at Fanny and sighed "Looks like Ma didn't get the contract" you spoke before packing the mac n cheese in a container. The drive to her office you couldn't stop thinking how hurt Yelena must be, she's worked so hard for this and of course there will always be other contracts, but she was really counting on this one. 

You arrived at the office, nobody insight but the light from Yelena's office. No signs of a celebration taking place only made your suspicion grow. Gently you knocked on Yelena's door and opened it slowly. 

"Honey?" you questioned while you opened the door. A gasp soon left your lips at the sight before you. A candle lit dinner waited your arrival, Yelena looked up from her desk, a bouquet of light pink roses sat in front of her. "There you are" she smiled softly as she stood from her desk, grabbing the roses before walking over to you. "Lena" you gasp once more in shock. 

"What's all this?" you asked as she handed you the roses, taking a sniff of them with your eyes closed. "A little thank you for everything you've done over the past year and a bit, especially over the past few months with everything going on. I didn't ask you to do anything but you did it anyway and I never want you feel like I don't see that, or you" Yelena spoke, one of her hands cupping your face, "we got the contract, милый" she smiled softly.

"You did?! Baby, I'm so proud of you!!" 

"No, we did it!" she reminded you before kissing you softly, "I've missed you and Fanny, mostly Fanny, I won't lie" she added jokingly before leading you to the table in the middle of her office and pulling out a seat for you. Kindly she took the container of mac n cheese from your hand along with the roses, placing them on her desk. "I didn't cook but I did order your favourite take out" she placed the hot take out in the middle of the table as you chuckled at her comment. 

"I was thinking" Yelena added while she began to dish up both plates, "how about we take a vacation? Just the three of us, or two, whatever you want" 

"I don't care what we do or where we go, as long as I get you all to myself, I'm happy" you smiled. 

----

After dinner, Yelena followed you home where she wasted no time running a bath for you both before getting comfortable on the sofa with you in her arms, watching one of Netflix's new movies. Her fingers twirled with your hair on one hand while the over was intertwined with yours. 

"Thank you for everything baby" Yelena whispered before placing a kiss on the top of your head, you smiled instantly before looking up at her. 

"You know I'd do anything for you"

"How do you feel about travelling the world with me? I know you have your job here so it's okay if you can't. Once all the paperwork is finalised and things get moving, I want to be there for the store openings around the world, I'd love for you to be there as well" 

You sat up and looked at her, a smile tugged at your lips as you nodded, "you don't even have to ask me twice" you replied before kissing her deeply. "I'm just so beyond proud of you my love, you've worked so hard on all of this, of course I want to be there for you any way I can" you added as you pulled away. 

Yelena smiled back, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, and even with all her success lately, you couldn't help but feel something else was playing on her mind. "What is it darling?" you asked, catching her eyes connect with yours. 

"It's nothing, I promise" she brushed it off, "I was just taking a moment to take all of this in, and how there is nobody I would rather be with, not a single soul, not even for a second" she added. "Everything I do is for us and I know I did this business for me but without you, there's no way I would've went through with it" 

"Lena, you have to thank yourself as well, you put and continue to put in the hours, the meetings, the paperwork, all of it. I'm just your little cheerleader cheering you on. You made this happen baby, take a moment to be proud of yourself" you reminded her, knowing that giving herself any form of credit. 

"What would I do without you huh?" she couldn't help my smirk softly. Playfully you shrugged, "who knows" you replied.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @valiantmugcowboyscissors | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @crescent-witch | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok |  @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @maria-403 | 

[oleander-nin]

The Weight of a Letter(5)

A/N: It's a bit stupid, but it's done. Sorry for the gross writing, I'm just tired and had to write this in advance so I didn't have to worry over my trip. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

Taglist? If you want to be added or removed, just say so: @ssak-i @sinister-things @ancreativename @t0ta11y-n0t-cup1d @idiotreblogger @whygz

Part 1 - Previous - Next

Words: 3387

Content warnings: Stalking, Paranoia, dark themes, breaking and entering, throwing up

Chapter 5: A Silent Act

I shovel the school made mac n’ cheese into my mouth, watching the other kids in the cafeteria move by. Scanning the crowd as I try my best to not spit up my food, I tap on the envelope sitting in my lap. It was another letter from the mysterious ‘Othello Von Ryan’, having survived its journey into my locker once more. I huff, chewing on my cheek and I poke at my food with my spork. The more I thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense.

I had gotten five letters so far, each one accompanied with flowers, and up until now, a box of chocolates. My eyes drift to the pink flower I had set on the table, my hand moving to softly touch its petals. Out of everything given, I liked the flowers the most. The red tulip, a red carnation, a small bundle of baby’s breath, a gardenia, and now, a pink flower, layered in petals. 

I twist a petal of the light pink flower in between two fingers, admiring its full bloom. It was gorgeous, and completely undamaged. I couldn’t help but admire its beauty. But how had it made its way into my locker, completely unharmed? Me and Irma had been trying to solve this mystery since the first letter arrived, but we were nowhere near figuring it out.

I look up when I feel the table shift, Irma taking her spot across from me. I marveled at her uncanny ability to appear as soon as I started thinking of her. Irma smiles at me, pushing her lunch tray away. I don’t blame her, I was already regretting eating the provided food. I pass her my apple, Irma taking it gleefully as she eyes the flower. Taking a bite, she chews for a bit while tapping her finger next to the petals.

“Huh, no chocolates this time. Is that the new one?” I nod at Irma’s words, pulling out the letter and offering it out to her. Irma takes the envelope, opening it carefully. Her pointer finger and thumb rest on the paper, not pulling it out yet. “It was still sealed, (Y/n). Did you not read it yet?”

“I wanted to wait for you.” I shove another spoonful of my mac ‘n cheese into my mouth, trying to gag on the mush as I wait for Irma to pull out the letter and read it. In all honesty, I was starting to hate the letters. It was all too much as of late, and me and Irma were nowhere near figuring out who was sending them. My eyes glance around the cafeteria, on the lookout for shadows. They were getting more and more frequent, closer and less concealed. I hated it, hated the way I was barely able to live without the fear of some stupid figure my imagination made up. Hated the way my pulse spiked at every little thing crossing my vision.

Irma’s eyes rake over my face, taking in the details she had probably memorized by this point. I take another bite of my food and dust off my hands to the side, Irma clearing her throat before starting to read the letter out loud.

“Dear (Y/n),” She starts in a dramatized voice. I snort, shaking my head as I grin. She puts on a fake accent, eyeing me with a small smile. Every letter started with the same normal opening before diving into sappy madness as the writer described their love. Irma tried to make the letter seem as regal as possible, reading them becoming one of her favorite things. “You’ve continued to breach my thoughts even though we have barely talked. Everything I create I now do in your name. In my brother’s words, you’ve become my muse.”

Irma pauses for a moment, taking another bite of her apple. She quickly chews before swallowing, continuing her theatrical telling of the letter. “You’re breathtaking, completely astonishing. You complete me, and I am truly the only thing you need.” Irma grimaces a bit at that statement, fake gagging to make me laugh before continuing on. “I promise I will reveal myself soon, seeing as I don’t think I can go without you much longer.”

“Ooo,” I say, tapping the table. “Looks like they might just tell us instead of us having to play the detective.”

Irma rolls her eyes, hushing me. I pretend to zip my lips shut, earning a snicker from my friend. “I cannot wait until you're mine, until we are together. Nothing will come between us, that I promise you. These letters are not enough to suffice my need to be by your side, to love and care for you as you deserve. I will be the best thing that ever happened to you. Until the time comes, forever yours, Othello Von Ryan.”

Irma sets the letter down, sliding it over to me. I pick it up and scan the writing, shaking my head in disbelief. “Well, we know one thing for certain. The writer sure thinks highly of himself.”

Irma tries to stop her grin from forming, her hand moving over her mouth to muffle her laugh. She reaches over and picks up the flower twirling it in between her fingers. “Have you checked to see what it is yet?”

I shake my head, looking at the flower in her hands. It really was beautiful, as were all the flowers I had been gifted. “You have the app. I don’t.”

Irma sighs dramatically as she pulls out her phone, taking a picture of the flower and uploading it to one of her plant identification apps. Considering neither of us knew much about plants, Irma came up with the idea of checking what plant it was through an app in case they were poisonous or rash inducing. Which would be a great idea if I hadn’t completely manhandled each flower before we checked. Irma glances up at me, showing me her phone screen. “It’s a camellia, one of the pink variety, as you can obviously see.”

I nod, taking the flower back as Irma continues to eat her lunch. I admire the flowers' delicate beauty, its soft pink petals layered atop one another make the flower full. This flower, like all the others, had not been damaged when it was put into my locker. I didn’t know how I felt about this. Sure, the letters were sweet, the flowers romantic, and the previous chocolates delicious, but did all that really make the fact someone might be breaking into my locker null and void? I chew on the inside of my cheek, thinking about it. I didn’t want the letters or flowers to stop, that was for sure. Receiving these gifts made me feel special, like I mattered. As selfish as that was, I didn’t want to give it up.

The chatter of the teenagers around me reverberates in my head, my eyes scanning the room. Any one of these people could be the writer, I just had to figure out who. I hoped it wasn’t some mean trick, some prank to fool me into loving someone. I just wanted to matter to someone. Having a special someone in light of all my trouble sounded great. Irma grabs my hand, bringing me back into the now, the sound around me quieting down once more. She taps my knuckles with her thumb, her brown eyes staring deep into my own. I feel slight guilt for my thoughts at her stare. Even if the letters weren’t real, Irma was. She was my friend, she cared. I knew I would never lose her.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” She asks softly, letting go of my hand now that she pulled me back out of the clouds. I rub the heel of my hand against my eyes, frowning slightly. I didn’t want to have to bother Irma with this, she already helped me with so much. It felt like I was just taking and never giving her anything in return.

“Just… worried about the letters, I guess.” I admit. I lean into my arms, hoping Irma wouldn’t press. To my relief, she doesn’t. Irma pats my arm, a hopeful grin on her face.

“Yeah, I’ve been worried as well. We can mess around with your locker before leaving school, okay?”

“We’ve been messing with it.” I point out.

“Well maybe we missed something. Plus, if it doesn’t work, we can just go to the front office and ask for a new locker.” Irma says, picking up both of our trays and going to throw them away. I stand up, glancing at the clock. We had one minute before lunch ended. I nod, conceding.

“Sure. One more time.”

—

Irma punched my locker now that the halls were desolate, the sound of Irma’s fist colliding with the steel echoing through the halls. 

“Careful tiger, you might just bust it open.” A dopey grin stretches across my face, Irma turning to me in annoyance.

“I just. I don’t get how someone could get in! Try opening it again, maybe there’s a mechanic in the lock you can exploit.” Irma throws her hands the air, a strangled noise sounding from her throat. Her neck was flushed red, frustration shining through her usual relaxed demeanor. It was hard for her to not understand something, especially when it came to matters like this. I was glad Irma wasn’t the one getting the letters. She’d interrogate the entire school trying to find them.

I push off from the wall I was leaning against, standing in front of my locker and putting in the code. I pull up the lock’s trigger and yank, groaning when nothing happens. I yank on the grip in frustration, wanting to kick the darn thing myself. I move to put in the code again, but I get startled by a loud gasp from behind me. I whip my head around to look at Irma, her eyes trained on the top corner of my locker. The basketball star moves in between me and the metal, her fingers gripping the top corner and pulling. It comes loose, the metal bending until the lock catches it.

My mouth gapes at the sight. The locker opened enough to fit someone’s hand through before the metal refused to bend. Irma let the locker snap back into place, looking at me proudly. “We found the exploit!”

I straighten up a bit at her proud announcement, shaking my head as I grin. Irma claps her hands, her face morphing into a scary grin. “Oh ho ho, we can so use this to our advantage.”

I look at Irma, confused. What did that even mean, was she planning on hurting the writer? “What?”

Irma picks up both of our bags that were on the ground, dragging me towards the exit. I stumble a bit before regaining my balance. I toddle alongside her, Irma starting to ramble on about her idea. 

“We now know how they get into your locker, which means we can totally set a trap! They most likely stick their hand into the opening to set everything down, so if we put a bag of colored stain there, their hand will get stained! We can literally catch them red handed!” Irma grins widely, letting go of my hand to rub hers together. “Oh, this will be so fun.”

I shake my head, laughing softly. I didn’t mind not knowing yet. Sure, some of the letters had been a bit… Odd, but none had been too dangerous so far. The person writing them was probably just awkward.

“Are we sure we want to do that? It feels… Mean.” I say, rubbing my arm awkwardly. It rubbed me the wrong way to do something like that, especially since they had been mostly sweet thus far. Irma huffs, sticking out her tongue at me.

“You never let me have any fun.”

I lightly shove her to the side, blowing air from my nose. “Oh you do not get to say that. Who’s the one who banned me from playing hide and seek in the apartments when we were seven?”

“You completely totaled poor Ms. Fitzgerald’s plants! And I only made the rule of no going into the halls!” Irma laughs, shoving me back. I chuckle to myself, a wide grin on my face. Everything was perfect right now, I never wanted this to end. If I could stop time, it’d be right now. Just us laughing, reminiscing on our old games. We exit the school and head to our shared complex, joking on the way. I absentmindedly scan the rooftops, humming softly as I look for the ever-present shadows.

I feel my stomach drop when I see the familiar figure on the rooftop across the road, leaning against an AC unit. It was half shrouded in the shadows, produced by the building to its right. I stop in my tracks, staring at it. I couldn’t move, my blood running cold. A flash of purple was seen before it backed away, my eyes glued to the spot it stood.

“(Y/n)?” Irma’s voice snaps me out of it as I whip my head around to face her. I try to school my face back into my usual smile, but Irma doesn’t buy it. Her face pinches in worry, her eyes shining in sympathy. My throat closes slightly as I look at her, my heart aching. She didn't deserve this, she shouldn’t have to worry. My eyes flick back to the spot I saw the figure. I chew on my lip, conflicted. How much should I tell her?

“Just saw something.” I mumble, moving to continue walking. I don’t elaborate, and Irma doesn’t push, knowing what I was referencing already. I shrink slightly, frowning. I was tired of having everything wrong with me. Irma moves her hand to my shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly and I let out a small sigh. It would all be fine, Irma was here with me. Nothing would happen while we were together.

We walk side by side the rest of the way, neither of us speaking much. I keep my eyes off the rooftops, not wanting to possibly see the figure again. When we enter the complex, the building is silent. Irma lets out a loud groan before yanking me towards the stairs when we see the ‘Out of Order’ sign on the elevator. Irma passes me my bag as we start up the stairs together. I glance at Irma, shifting my bag onto my shoulder. The building seemed much emptier, dead. I wondered if Irma noticed it too.

Irma sees my discomfort and grabs my hand, holding it as we walk up. Our footsteps echo, bouncing off the concrete walls. I flinch slightly when I hear another pair of footsteps in the stairwell, Irma squeezing my hand again.

“Calm down, it’s okay.” Her voice was low and she was mumbling, her eyes looking straight ahead. I dart my eyes across the narrow walkway, my hand moving to grip the rail. Irma squeezes my hand again, rubbing at the knuckle. “You don’t need to be so jumpy, it’s all going to be okay.”

I nod, rubbing my free palm on my shorts. My hands were clammy, my hair on end. I harshly exhale through my nose, closing my eyes. Irma was right, everything would be fine. The shadows were outside, far away from me. They couldn’t get me in here, I was safe. Nothing could touch me. My eyes flicker back and forth between the stairs and the entranceway to Irma’s floor, our feet lightly thudding across the carpeted hall. I pat my hands on my thighs, shifting awkwardly. Irma opens her door and steps inside, waving to me before closing her door.

I stand there for a moment more, barely breathing. I close my eyes, trying to ignore the way my body is shaking. I pull at my shirt as I walk back to the stairwell. I just had to walk up two more flights, and then I was safe. It was okay. Everything would be okay. Nothing can hurt me. My eyes drift to the cameras, trying to memorize where they sit. There was one at every platform, but none on the actual stairs. I speed up, running up the stairs. I would be safe if I could just get to my room.

I run up one flight, then two, bolting to my apartment door. I slide my backpack over in front of me, my eyes darting back and forth between the ends of the hallway and my bag as I look for my keys. My heart pounds in my ears, my hands shake and my body tenses as I search. Where were my keys? Why couldn’t I find them? I open more pouches in my bag, dumping things to the floor as I look. I almost cry in relief when the cool metal of my keys hits my hand, picking them up and jamming them into the door. 

I open the door and shove my dropped objects inside with my foot, locking the door behind me once I close it. I let my bag drop to the ground as I breath out in relief, my brain buzzing loudly. I spin around and lean backwards, sliding to the floor. I was okay. It was okay. Irma made it to her apartment, and I made it to mine. I was safe.

I lean my head back against the door, my eyes shining with panicked tears that never shed. I could still feel my heart pounding in my chest, warning me of a danger that was never there. I couldn’t help but feel stupid at my actions. I shake my head, pushing off the door and grabbing my backpack by one of the straps. I start to drag it to my room, feeling too overwhelmed to pick it up. I push open my door, shoving my backpack next to my desk. I lift my arms over my head, popping my back. It was over. I was okay. 

I continue to repeat this to myself as I run my fingers through my hair, letting myself calm down a bit. I turn to my bed, feeling exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to collapse onto my mattress and sleep. My eyes land on the disheveled covers, my heart stopping. I know I made my bed this morning. I stand there, staring at my bed.

Did someone break in? Was I in danger? What if they’re still here, I need to run, I need to-

No. No, I’m not doing this. 

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and trying to relax my trembling body as I exhale. Everything was fine. I just… Misremembered. Yeah, that’s it. I must have made my bed yesterday, not today. I nod my head, ignoring the way my desk looks as if it had been rifled through, how the flowers that should be dead in my vase seemed fresh. I dig through my backpack for the camellia, humming to myself in desperation to convince myself everything would be just fine. Nothing was wrong, I was just stressed. My school work was getting to me, and I was just being overworked. Everything was normal.

I set the crushed flower in the vase, not looking at the other flowers. To admit they were new was to admit something was wrong. Nothing was wrong. I turn back to my bed and flop down, staring at the ceiling. The fan thrummed above me, its white blades a blur from its movement. I turn to face the window, scanning the skyline of the apartments across the road. My eyes travel to a small piece of fabric fluttering on my window, stuck between the frame and the glass. I slowly get up, inching towards the material. Did I open my window and get a jacket caught? I pick up the black wrapping stuck to my window, it’s fabric rough and the tear jagged. It looked like wrappings someone would use for fighting, something I very much did not own. Someone had been here. I run to the bathroom, my stomach heaving as I spill my lunch into the toilet. 

Everything was not okay.

[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! ^^

[cerealmonster15]

TWST SIMS!!!! a relationships update post as i went thru and was cleaning out npcs lol

HELP WHEN DID CATER AND SILVER BREAK UP 😭😭😭 but theyre still sweethearts and u can SEE they still have a lot of pink... was it an amicable break up... did they break up but still like each other WHATS GOING ONNNNN

maybe he's upset cater proposed to idia instead of him lol 😭😭😭 i checked tho and cay is still going strong with idia and trey.... girl this is malleus/neige all over again. maybe theyll get back together like those two did too lol. ill have to play another household and catch them in the world together and see. aka i need to send someone to the gym bc that seems to be the favorite spot for all my twst sims to gather sjkghdlkfj

also. huh.??? trey is asleep wym overcharged 😭???

when did leona get a job. why is he an oracle what does that m ean,

since his shift was ongoing when i swapped over of course he was late lol, then his boss called bc i forgot to send him immediately lol so i guess it was fitting he's got poor attendance...

....WHAT. LEONA/NEIGE REAL.... wait but last i checked malleus and neige had gotten back together too, are malleus and leona sharing a boyfriend. a sparkly rsa boyfrie-

WAIT WHATS GOING ON HERE EJKLFJSDKLHGLKSDJFKLS

WHAT THE FU CK LOL>???/

leona....

whatever. bananaclaw boys are full of haters for real

leona and malleus dislike each other. leona is haters with benefits with neige. hes soulmates with vil / they are woohoo partners. and best friends. if anyone should be haters with benefits i think it should be those two but i dont know how to make them do that on purpose lmao

jack and kalim dislike each other??????? somehow??? so do jack and jade but that one makes more sense to canon LOL. jack and jamil also dislike each other :[ the J boys are not getting along... he even dislikes some rando named Janet!! but i deleted her lol. the first year polycule is still doing well, jack's still going strong with juice and epe-

BROKEN UP???? HUH......................... hes not broken up w/juice at least. but boys what is going ON!!!!! HELLO??? augh. skjfjslkg i act surprised but like im well aware that i have the story progression doing this lol. and theyre COWORKERS!!! the tension of it all....

ruggie i forgot unfortunatley still has the aftermath of my other updates where i was playing my twst oc house and he was swept up in the hater break up storm so he is broken up with char and dañarte and has like. "it's very awkward" with char where they just do not like each other, but then "bad romance" with dañarte where they have mega bad romance but some green frienship. i thought he and kalim had some negative but theyre actually at neutral acquaintances. but ruggies besties with jamil at least!!! hes also friends with neige lol

ok im gonna fuckin check neige now wtf is he up to

i couldnt find him at first bc he was hiding under a bridge with his dog 😭 WHY ARE HE AND KALIM HATERS WHY IS KALIM MAKING SO MANY ENEMIES NOOO LOL THEY LITERALLY DESPISE EACH OTHER 😭😭😭

okay. well. it doesnt say broken up but it also doesnt say partners. so what is the truth🤨 also i sent neige home and he had mac n cheese left on the stove bitch get it TOGETHER!!!

omg wait i still have jealously on for him. im turning that off for him now but i wonder if that had any relation to his weird relationships but im going with probably not and it was still jsut sims being super random with the auto generating lol

wait has he not met vil.... or rook... im sending him to pomefiore at 1am to establish bonds and ill check back later and see if random progression does anything with it lol. therye literally next door neighbors i think he's even coworkers with vil why havent they met. vils pretending not to see him and avoiding eye contact lol

hes bonding w/rook and epel but vil literally got in bed and went to sleep the moment neige walked inside lol

wait i had him go wake him up but i forgot i have like

ten billion pictures of cater and rook in vils room fskljgsldfs from when i was still figuring out some mechanics of how photo taking works... one day ill have rook take a billion pics of vil and neige for his room 😌 ok whatever ill leave them there, im also checking through everyones households rn to remove/hide the relationships with non twst related npcs after i sniped everyone out of the extra houses lol we are CLEANING UP

let's check on my stupid little ocs...

char is friens with neige and good friens with chenya!! true to life... his only bad relationship is with ruggie lol im sorry ruggie im sorry char 😭

dan's funny, his bad relationships are all exes and then Also Cater who isnt actually an ex in this game even tho his sole purpose for existing as a twst oc is to cause cater's love life issues and to be an eventual ex... sims cater clocked his rancid vibes and said NO!!!

but ok not much to see there for now. moving on... i think malleus has a lot of enemies / disliked at least lol, based on who im seeing so far...

omg wait i went to check jamil

i WAS gonna be like WHAT HAPPENED but. i forgot. i did that :[ when i was playing as dañarte 😔 his villainous valentine needs him to get people to break up and alas, the sims generated ship of jamil and sebek was one i had to destroy for it kfshdgklj. oh jamil and neige are best friends tho fjksghlk good for them. where does neige keep meeting everyone i feel like i never see him wandering around when i play lol. kalim also dislikes sebek tho jsdkfsklg defending his bestie i guess

kalim and vil..

romantic interests who are broken up... when did... that happen... so many of these bitches are having flashfire romances and dumping each other when im not looking. but then continue to gaze longingly at each other about it lol. kalim is also dating riddle which idr if i knew that already or not. but it's CUTE :]

chekcing on epel and the first year polycule truly is in shambles before it could fully form

hes doing GREAT with juice, it's confusing w/jack as we saw before bc theyre apparently broken up but still besties and coworkers and love each other, but then he DISLIKES the two he hasnt dated, ace and sebek jfkshgkljsd. he also has disliked cater and idk what thats about. maybe hes annoyed cater keeps coming over and flirting w/his housemates,,

azuls relationship w/jade is bugged lol, it says theyre both acquaintances and best friends , sometimes it messes up when theres romance and friendship i think and gets confused when the romance is near zero but i think if i use a lil cheats i can fix it. later tho i dont feel like it rn. i specifically have relationship decay OFF but i think the fact that i have story progression maybe still alters it so i get some decay anyway which keeps making these FULL GREEN BAR BESTIES show as acquaintances 😑

but also i feel like that accurately kinda represents the way the fish talk about each other in canon sdkjfslk theyre ALWAYS together but like to pretend theyre not friends. also azul doesnt like sebek. why is diasomnia collecting so many dislikers just thru seb and mal lol

deuce is the first year polycule glue

he is still dating all of them except apparently i havent had him meet sebek yet? hes also still dating chenya which the game did when i wasnt looking lol. juice you are just so lovable no one can break up with you <- probably foreshadowing for a future game session lol

sebek.......... god 😭😭😭 jkdfsjklfjsdkgl this is so real tbh he doesnt know many people and half the people he knows dont fuckign like him/he doesnt like them. and his favorite person is malleus by far LOL i dont even think i intervened much here i think most of this sebek did on his own or via story progression random LOL...

malleus is still a hater also , i think hes the only one that full on is in DESPISED ZONE with someone. TWO SOMEONES!!! jade and him have been like that for a while but idr when idia showed up LOL god. and he and leona dont like each other either <3 and hes still romantically involved w/neige and azul from the random story progressions. here's the post where i doodled about neige/malleus if u missed it bc /i/ still think it's FUNNY JKLjdklshfsd i really want to draw whatever the hells going on with neige and leona too. and his hater thing with kalim. like bestie bleas ejjskdlhgklsj

the only person silver doesnt like is ortho. i think ortho has beef with silver and ace specifically and it's so funny fjksekj. silver has a lot of firenships and his only romance is with cater despite being also broken up as we saw in the start of this post

OKAY THATS ENOUGH FOR NOW IM TIIIIRED i dont even know if people read these LOL but it's fun archiving for myself bc i sure as hell often forget whats going on w/how rapidly things change behind my back!!!