#i bet she is a very cute six year old

[gay-otlc]

Jolie Ruewen is 6 years old right now omg

[theorphicangel]

if there was one thing you hated, it was your roommate. Sukuna.

ever since you moved in it seemed that your roommate has had a vendetta against you. whether it was setting up the shower's temperature to be freezing cold when it was your turn or eating your leftovers or letting his dishes pile up in the sink or leave his laundry lying around, you knew one thing and one thing only.

you hated him.

so much so that you wouldn't even speak to him. whenever the two of you were in the kitchen for breakfast, the atmosphere would be dead silent. only the clinking of cutlery and the scraping of chairs could be heard, the two of you preferring to mindlessly scroll on social media rather than speak to each other.

you didn't really speak to sukuna unless necessary and it was the same vice versa.

until a random weekend came by and a little visitor came knocking on your door.

knock, knock.

'come in-'

your bedroom door is pushed open but hestantly at first almost as if the person outside is struggling.

expecting to see a figure, you're stunned when no one enters. you were sure to hear a knock and panic surges through your body at the idea of an intruder in your flat.

you're ready to hide until you glance down.

oh.

'sorry i thought this was the bathroom-'

a little boy, no older than what seems to be six years old is at your door. you've never seen him in his life but there's certain hints which help you figure out who he might be known to. that familiar pink hair and chubby cheeks help guide your guess that he's related to your one and only roommate.

'oh...' you lean back and swivel in your chair. you turn away from your open laptop and abandon your university work to give your full attention to the boy.

'sorry' the boy blushes, ready to head out. 'I'll leave-'

'are you sukuna's brother?' you interruption.

the boy shakes his head, his face getting redder by the second. 'he's my uncle.'

you nod silently. righttttt, that should make sense.

an awkward silence filled between the two of you. you're hesitant on what to say as the boy stands nervously in your room.

' he doesn't like you very much' he announces aloud.

you bite back a choke.

'how come?' you bite back any spite in your voice. it's not his fault, i mean, it doesn't take a genius to work out that you're not Sukuna's favourite person.

'my uncle says you stink and don't clean up after yourself.'

'maybe your uncle should have thought twice before putting up an advert for a roommate, he doesn't seem to get along with anyone.'

'he doesn't. he argues with my dad a lot.' the boy agrees.

'i bet.' you reply 'and he is the one that stinks not me. Have you smelt him after he goes to the gym, ugh' you fan a hand from your nose, implying a nasty smell.

Yuji laughs, dimples appearing on each corner of his cheek. It's hard to believe that the two were related. How could anything that shares Sukuna's blood be so sweet and cute.

'yuji!' a voice calls out. a voice you are all too familiar with.

ah, so that was his name.

'what did I tell you about going into other people's rooms without ask-' sukuna's voice comes to a halt once he realises you're also present.

'oh. you're home.'

'i am.'

Sukuna clears his throat at the low tone you address towards him. he introduces the little boy. 'this is yuji, my nephew.'

'nice to meet you, yuji' you smile. the boy smiles back with a light blush coming across his cheeks adding a shy wave.

soon enough an awkward silence appears between the three of you. sukuna and yuji stood awkwardly. it's not long before yuji decides to break the silence.

'wanna play uno with me?'

you and sukuna answer at the same time.

'no she doesn't'

'of course.'

Sukuna scowls, 'I'm making dinner for you, you brat so you can't play.'

'we can play whilst you cook for us.' you chime in.

Sukuna throws a glare straight at you. now you've gotten yuji's hopes up as his face lights up with excitement. 'us? there is no us? you little-'

'let's go Yuji,' you outstretch your hand as you stand. 'we can't let uncle sukuna play because he cheats and hides the cards in his bum'

'I do no-'

'do too!' you exclaim as yuji giggles loudly. you wink as you walk past grabbing Yuji's little hand.

you - 1

sukuna - nil

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Just a cute, fluffy fic from Wayne's pov

💞

"Hey Wayne, how do you know you're in love?" Eddie asks him as they eat dinner that night. Wayne nearly choked on the pasta he was eating but covered himself by gulping down some coffee.

Shit, he needs something a little stronger for this, like when he had the talk with Eddie a few years ago, that was awkward as hell for the both of them.

Fortunately for Wayne's heart, Eddie kept his love life a secret. There were a couple people that weren't serious, but that's as far as Wayne knew. Eddie asking about love, though? This was new.

"I haven't got time for falling in love, Uncle Wayne, I have way too much shit to worry about, and it's a bunch of bullshit anyway", were the words of Eddie just a year ago.

Wayne knew his nephew craved love but at the same time viewed it cynically, so whoever this person was must be special to change his views.

"Why'd you ask boy?" Eddie's cheeks turn pink and he shrugs, gulps down the warm coffee and almost scalds his tongue. "Ahh shit!" his eyes widen when there's a knock on the trailer door, and Wayne gets up to answer it; he knows who it is even before he answers.

You're standing on the step, a D&D book tucked under your arm, smiling at Wayne with just a little bit of shyness this time which was an improvement.

You hurry inside and tell Eddie you'll set the books up in his room.

For six months, you'd been visiting the new trailer (all paid for by the government, so no questions were asked about the old one), and it took a while for you to relax around him; now that you did, it was like your second home and Wayne was used to you being here.

You had been visiting on your own, but sometimes with Harrington and Dustin, Wayne doesn't know what went on during Spring Break, just that Eddie was injured during the earthquake, and you were there for him every step of the way.

His wounds had healed but left scars, and sometimes Eddie woke up screaming after horrendous nightmares, not when you were around, though. When you were around it helped Eddie, helped the both of you work towards healing.

The fact that both of you were obviously falling head over heels in love with each other, is something that Wayne has kept quiet about, waiting until Eddie approached him about it.

Today was the day.

Wayne smiles gruffly. "This about your girl?" he nods to you as you head into Eddie's room and Eddie's cheeks darken even more.

"Yeah, yeah it is. She's amazing, isn't she, Wayne?" he enthuses; I just wanted to ask. How do you know it's love? I mean shit, I uh look at her, and she feels like home, and I don't want to be with anyone else ever; I feel like I can be myself around her, and she'd never judge me; she makes me tongue-tied and my heart races and she's so distracting and I... I'm in love with her" he sighs content then looks up at Wayne panicked.

"Shit, I don't even know if she feels the same?" Wayne sighs, he adores his nephew, but the boy is completely oblivious at times.

"Son, she looks at you like you hung the moon so why don't you quit horsing around and ask her out" Eddie looks like all of his Christmases have come at once.

"You really think so?" He asks hopefully and his eyes light up when Wayne nods. "Maybe I will talk to her then" Wayne then proceeds to watch his nephew practically melt at the sight of you; that was something that so very rarely happened with Eddie, so he was completely smitten.

Here's hoping that he did pluck up the courage to talk to you.

❤️

It's late when Wayne comes home from work; the TV is on, so Eddie is still up, and Wayne would bet that you're here too.

Wayne sees the two of you giggling together, holding hands and exchanging kisses, there's a big soppy smile on Eddie's face and he only has eyes for you.

About damn time. Also, Hopper owes him a glass of his best scotch so he will make sure to collect that too.

💞

[nikethestatue]

How the Mating Went

(In celebration of the impromptu Elain Archeron Week, because I can)

There were things that Elain Archeron preferred to keep a secret. Her family was nosy and everyone liked being in each other's business. Yes, it was cute at times, adorable even, but also annoying and intrusive.

The things that she kept secret varied in terms of importance. For example, she didn't like that restaurant that Rhys insisted they go to. The restaurant itself was fine, and the atmosphere was lovely, but the food...Elain couldn't stomach the food. But she pretended that she enjoyed it. That was a small thing. A bigger thing was that she knew how to winnow--but she hadn't told anyone. Not her sisters, not her friends. She wasn't sure why that was exactly. Perhaps, she wanted to keep a bit of freedom for herself. The other small thing was that she really didn't like anything with cinnamon. When she made spiced cakes in the fall, she usually omitted it, and it didn't seem like anyone noticed it. Well, maybe he noticed it. But he never said anything. He never said anything to her anymore. It hurt her. It hurt her heart not to hear from him, not to hear his voice, not to have him address her. It hurt.

That was, perhaps, her greatest secret. A secret that she kept deep inside her chest and never dared to speak of. Not even to the twins. It was simple, really. She was in love.

Elain Archeron loved a man. Well, a male. She never wanted a male, and didn't think that a day would ever come when she'd desire one. She didn't want a mate or a male. But this one--he was the one she loved. And if he was her mate, she wouldn't have minded it. But he wasn't and he wouldn't be. She loved him in secret. She loved him in silence. She loved him through unshed tears, with a smile plastered on her face. She loved him into the void.

Lastly, another thing that she kept a secret, was her newly discovered obsession with nightball. It was Prythian's premiere spectator sport. Where she came from, there were sporting tournaments, and tennis, and jousting, especially among the wealthy noblemen. When she was young, she and Nesta and their parents would go to the races, watching and even betting on ponies. Once, she even won six gold coins. Her mother had said that it would go towards her dowry. Elain was seven years old.

Nightball was a simple game, played between two teams--the objective was to throw a ball into a net. it was basic enough, but magic could be used, so each team had two winnowers and two racers, who ran like the wind. There were two defenders, who could erect walls of fire and air, and two fliers, who were winged Fae.

Elain would sneak out to go to the stadium to watch the games. She lied to Feyre, telling her that she was going to help elderly Fae in the city. She didn't. Well, sometimes she did--but she also had purchased tickets for 24 season games and when her favourite team was playing--the Golden Dragons--she winnowed wherever they played and attended the games. She'd scream herself hoarse, sweat through her tunic, and have the time of her life.

Today, the game happened to be in Day Court--it was her second favourite Court, after Summer. Day was beautiful, and its citizens certainly took their games very seriously. Their stadium was magnificent, made of white limestone and with the capacity to house many thousands of occupants.

The game was nerve-wracking. The Golden Dragons were playing the second best team in the League, the Dark Knights. The score was up and down the entire game, with one of the winnowers being taken out, and both fliers being ejected from the field by the referee. Elain was stress-screaming so much, she'd lost her voice. But the Dragons won and she was blissfully happy.

Now, she was walking down the marble promenade which overlooked the sea. It was warm and couples strolled alongside her, most carrying banners and insignia of their respective teams.

"Elain, wait up."

She turned around so swiftly at the sound of his voice, she almost fell over. His hand clasped around her upper arm and he steadied her, but not before she bounced against his chest, face first.

"What are you...how do you...why? How did you...you know..." she began babbling incoherently.

"I watch you," he said simply.

"What? Why?" she exclaimed, completely flustered.

He wrapped his long strong fingers around her fist and walked next to her. An Illyrian Shadowsinger was an unusual sight here, in Day Court, and he was stared at. He didn't react.

"Why are you here?" she repeated.

"Because I can't look away."

"What...what do you mean?" she murmured.

"Just that. I can't help but watch you. And when I can't watch you, I worry about you. That you know how to winnow makes it even harder for me. So I watch you when I can. And when I can't, I am tormented by the worst thoughts."

"What thoughts?"

"That you are with another male," he admitted. "Or that you are hurt and I cannot help you."

"I don't want any males," she huffed irritably.

He smiled sadly.

"I know."

They walked in silence for a long time.

There wasn't anything to say.

But he didn't release her hand.

Once out of the promenade, they stepped out onto a plaza where food stalls sold everything from fried fish, to fruit pies, to drinks and ale.

"Buy me a sweet ice," she requested.

"Alright," he nodded, "what flavour would you like?"

Elain stopped to read the offerings--raspberry, cherry, lemon, orange, coffee, almond, pistachio.

"Cherry," she said. "What's your favourite?"

"Hmmm, I am not sure," his eyes scanned the sign. "Caramel, I think."

"You like sweet on sweet."

"When you aren't allowed even a dab of honey on your lips for the length of your childhood, sweet on sweet sounds very good," he told her.

She blushed. She shouldn't have said it. She shouldn't have said anything.

"So cherry then?" he confirmed, counting some coins in his palm.

He hadn't let go of her hand though.

"No, I changed my mind," she shook her head. "I want caramel."

"Oh, so sweet on sweet then?" he teased.

Once he paid, he handed her the sweet ice and they walked towards the sea. The sun was setting. Dusk. The sea was calm, the surf smooth and quiet, like soft brushes of paint on canvas.

Elain stopped, admiring the view. It was endless ocean and endless sky in front of her, and next to her, the only one she wanted to stand with. Endless life. Endless love.

He was quiet. As always.

She exhaled. The words fell from her lips.

"I think you are my mate'," Elain said clearly.

Then she handed him the sweet caramel ice.

Sweet on sweet.

"So eat."

He ate.

[joelscruff]

one thing i'm missing (joel miller x reader) PART FIVE

i'm SO appreciative of all the kind words, it all means so much to me. thank you so much for reading & here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip. masterlist | ao3 summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: (for this chapter) fem!reader, smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), unprotected p in v sex (very tender & loving), cunnilingus, pet names, soft!joel word count: 5.1k

Pulling yourself out of Joel's arms was probably the most difficult thing you'd ever had to do, but you'd been standing there kissing in the hot spring for at least twenty minutes at that point, smiling at each other between stolen pecks and tender whispers. The way he looked at you now was still the same but somehow less guarded, more open. He didn't try to hide the way his gaze darted to your lips, to your breasts, to your legs and back up again. You felt so safe in his embrace, his fingers trailing up and down your back in a steady motion as he kissed you sweetly. You never wanted the moment to end.

But it had to. Ellie was waiting back at the cabins and it wasn't wise to leave her alone for much longer. You'd obviously checked the entire resort for infected but you'd been caught off guard before; it was always better to be safe than sorry.

“We need to go back,” Joel murmured against your lips, almost like he'd read your mind, and you felt yourself pout.

“I know, but I don't want to.”

He smiled, kissing you again, hands palming your shoulder blades, “I know. I could kiss you for hours,” he groaned playfully against your mouth, “Suddenly I'm sixteen years old again.”

“Cute,” you giggled, “I bet you were adorable.”

“I was a football player,” he teased, “Got all the cheerleaders.”

“Suuure you did.”

He raised his eyebrows, “You think I'm joking? They loved me. Don't I look like a cheerleader magnet?”

You rolled your eyes, “All my cheerleading knowledge comes from Bring it On, did you ever see it?” He shook his head, “It was a movie about cheerleaders, it came out a few years before the outbreak. I remember my sister rented it and let me watch it with her.” You smiled at the memory, it was one of the more concrete things you could remember from before the world had gone to shit.

He groaned again, shutting his eyes, “Please don't remind me how old you are, I just went from sixteen to fifty-six in about five seconds,” you laughed and he shook his head, trying not to smile, “I'm serious, I really do forget that you're...” he trailed off.

“Young?” you finished for him, “I know. I'm sorry. If I could change it I would. But unless we find a time machine out here I think we're stuck the way it is.”

“I just worry,” he was suddenly serious, brow furrowed, “You know, when we tell Ellie...she might think it's weird. I mean, she sees you kind of like an older sister, doesn't she? I don't want her to think I'm being a creep or something. That's half the reason it took me so damn long to...” he gestured between the two of you, “...do this.”

You stared at him for a second and grimaced.

“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “What's that face?”

“Well...um...Ellie actually knows.”

His hands dropped from you like he'd been shocked, “She what?”

--

“The whole time,” he said for about the tenth time as you walked with him down the overgrown path back to the cabins, both of you now fully dressed, “She knew the whole time.”

“I think that's a bit hyperbolic,” you patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, trying to keep up with his fast pace, “She didn't really know anything, and to be fair even I didn't really know what exactly this was between us until about an hour ago, so I mean...”

“I thought she had PTSD or something,” he gritted through his teeth, “I thought she was traumatized.”

“Turns out she's just a matchmaker.”

He rolled his eyes, “Please stop trying to make this funny, it's not funny.”

“Joel, slow down,” you grabbed his arm, “Stop.”

He huffed to himself but stopped in his tracks, spinning around to face you, “What?”

“This is a good thing,” you told him softly, trailing your fingers along his forearm soothingly, “Yes, it's surprising, yes it's kind of annoying that she never said anything, but wouldn't you rather this than the alternative?” your hand found his and squeezed it gently, thumb caressing his knuckles which now felt smoother from the soap and warm water, “She's not traumatized, she's okay.”

You watched his expression soften as you soothed him, slowly nodding at you and closing his eyes when you reached your hand up to stroke his face gently. He smiled at your touch, hand resting tenderly on your wrist as your finger traced the shape of his lips.

"Don't ruin today," you said quietly with a reassuring smile, "You just kissed me in a hot spring, let's focus on that."

He smirked, "Did a lot more than kiss you."

You bit back a laugh and started walking again, shaking your head, "You really are sixteen at heart, aren't you?"

--

Ellie had already finished her lunch by the time you both got back to the cabins. Admittedly, you would have gotten there sooner if Joel hadn't kept stopping every so often to admire you, appraise you, thumb your cheekbone and kiss you softly in the middle of the path. You weren't complaining though. You'd been waiting to see this side of Joel for so long, knew it was there somewhere beneath the surface just waiting to have a reason to come out. Turns out, that reason was you.

"How was the bath, Joel?" Ellie asked from her place at one of the picnic tables, journal open in front of her.

"Very... informative," he replied, voice a bit stiff, making direct eye contact with her.

She stared back at him in confusion, "Well that's ominous."

"I told him," you explained quietly beside him, and you watched guiltily as her jaw dropped.

"What the fuck?" she slammed her journal shut and extricated herself from the picnic table, then stomped over to you with a hellish glint in her eye, "Why would you do that?!"

"Ellie, I'm-"

"Look, I'm sorry if I crossed a line but you're the one who asked," she interrupted, face going redder and redder with every word, "I was gonna keep it to myself, I told you it was none of your business."

Your brow furrowed in response, confusion settling on your face. Joel, who obviously hadn't been there for the conversation, immediately began to defend you.

"She did the right thing," he said firmly, although his voice had become a bit more tender at Ellie's sudden surge of emotion, "I have a right to know."

"Neither of you have a right to know anything," Ellie growled, clutching her journal to her chest and backing away from the both of you, "Jesus, I may have been born after the outbreak but I thought this kinda shit was supposed to be private until the person themselves actually wants to talk about it."

Joel froze then, making a similar puzzled face as you, "Wait, what?"

You slowly began to put your hand up, lips parting, "Hold on, I think we're talking about two different things here."

Ellie's angry expression faltered, looking from Joel to you and back again in total bewilderment. She held her journal even tighter against herself and realization suddenly doused you like a bucket of cold water.

"Oh my god, Ellie, no. I didn't tell him about that," you gestured to her journal, shaking your head frantically, "I told him that you knew about us."

She froze, lips forming a small "o" as her grip loosened on her journal. The anger was gone but her skin had somehow gone even redder, "Oh."

"I'm confused," Joel said, eyebrows raised.

"And you're gonna stay that way, sorry," you winced, patting his arm carefully and trying not to feel too bad when he frowned at you, "Ellie and I, we talked about, uh, two completely different things earlier. She thought you were mad at her for...something else."

"For what?" Joel suddenly looked concerned, peering over at her again, "What else should I be mad about?"

"You actually wouldn't be mad about the other thing," you said quietly, eyeing Ellie again. Her eyes had begun to fill with tears and she was still standing there quite dejectedly, "It's just personal, girl stuff. Nothing to worry about."

"He might get mad," she suddenly said, biting on her lip and giving you a worried look, "He's old."

"Hey-" Joel began but you put your hand up again to stop him, shaking your head.

"He would never be mad about that, Ellie. Trust me," you took a few steps toward her and opened your arms a bit, "I'm not mad, am I?"

She nodded slowly, the tears fading before they'd had a chance to spill over, "That's true."

You closed the distance between the two of you and hugged her tenderly. It was the first time you'd actually shown her any physical affection; you'd been too scared to cross her boundaries before, worried it would trigger something deep within her about David. Obviously, those worries no longer existed.

She buried her face in your jacket, sniffling a bit, "This is so embarrassing," she whispered, voice muffled.

"Hey, it's okay," you whispered back, quiet enough so only she could hear you, "What you're feeling is totally normal, believe me," you pulled back a bit to look at her again, hand coming up to cup her face, "I only yelled earlier because you took me by surprise, you know that right?"

"I know," she nodded, "And I know I shouldn't have been looking at you. It's just...it's not like I'm ever gonna see another pair of boobs out here in the middle of nowhere. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about."

You laughed, rolling your eyes, "I get it, but yeah, no more looking at me like that, okay?" you scrunched up your nose, "It's not appropriate, I'm sorry. Not because I'm a girl but because I'm an adult. But after all this is over I'm sure you'll find a girl who will actually let you look at her boobs."

Her skin, which had faded back to a gentle pink as you'd spoke, suddenly surged a bright red again, and she began to pull away from your hug, "Okay, no more boob talk please," she groaned, "This is way too awkward for me to handle."

You chuckled and released her, stepping away and turning around to see Joel still standing there with a look of pure confusion etched all over his face. You walked back over to him and gave him a pat on the shoulder fondly.

"What was that all about?" he asked both of you, "Are we fighting or not?"

"Not," Ellie responded with a small smile, "Definitely not."

--

At around one o'clock you'd already overstayed your welcome at the springs and knew you had to get back on the proverbial road again. As much as you would have loved to spend another night in the cabin with Joel, in an actual bed, you both knew that time wasn't on your side. You still had a ways to go before Salt Lake City and you all just wanted to get it over with, have all of this behind you and be able to go back to Jackson with a clear conscious.

"So since you're not actually traumatized, we could probably start traveling by road again," Joel suggested about three hours into the days' hike, giving Ellie a semi-irritated look.

"You're never gonna let this go, are you?" she replied with a groan, "Come on, I did you a favor and you know it."

Joel flushed red and you giggled quietly, walking ahead of them a bit and listening to their familiar banter. It was so natural to settle back into things, the step you and Joel had taken together not really changing anything in the grand scheme of your little trio. It was a relief to hear them laugh together, rib each other, knowing Ellie was okay and Joel was okay and that was all that mattered.

Your mind kept playing back the image of him standing in front of you a few hours ago, baring himself to you, not just his body but his soul and his heart. My girl, he'd murmured to you in the spring, don't want anybody but you, you hear me? Nobody.

You smiled to yourself; you were his now. His girl.

Ultimately you all decided to stick to the heavy cover of the woods, knowing it was better to be safe than sorry. It would take a bit longer to get to the city but at least there was a less likely chance of one - if not all - of you dying before you got there. The forest just made more sense, and with it came the promise of another cozy night under your sleeping bag with Joel. It would be different this time, and you shivered at the notion.

"So you guys are together now, right?" Ellie asked a few hours later when you'd set up camp again, sun setting as she poked at the fire the way Joel had showed her.

You looked at Joel, unsure of what to say, but to your satisfaction he gave you a soft smile and then said kindly to Ellie, "Yeah, kiddo. We are."

--

Ellie had never set up her sleeping bag as far away from you as she did that night. You and Joel both watched as she settled into it and turned to face away from you, almost completely out of your eyeline and hidden by the dark branches of the trees. You'd both protested, but she'd been stubborn in her decision.

"You deserve alone time," she'd said, addressing you both like you were children and she was the adult, speaking slowly and clearly, "I'm giving you guys a free pass to be gross, please just let me."

"This is the most awkward conversation I've ever had," Joel had grumbled, head in his hands.

"Everybody poops, Joel," she replied, purposely trying to sound wise.

You'd both looked at her in confusion.

"Everybody poops," she repeated, "And everybody has sex."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Joel had groaned, and practically kicked her away from the fire, "Go to bed."

"I'm just sayin'!" she'd called back with a grin, making her way over to her faraway sleeping spot, "I can't hear you over here!" and she was right; once she'd gotten into her sleeping bag you couldn't even hear the rustle of the fabric, let alone see what she was doing.

"God, she is so much like Sarah sometimes," Joel muttered beside you, and your eyebrows went up in surprise at his mention of her, turning to peer at him gently. He smiled crookedly at you, "She used to try to set me up on dates with her teachers."

You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh, "And how'd that work out?"

"Let's just say I'd lost my sixteen year old mojo by then," he replied with a grin, "Made Tommy go to the parent-teacher conferences so I wouldn't have to face 'em."

"Really? You were that against dating?"

He shook his head, "I wasn't against datin', just not with Sarah's much older and very married teachers."

You shrugged, "Nothing wrong with someone who's older, I think it's sexy," you wiggled your eyebrows and he rolled his eyes, tossing a pebble into the fire.

"Well, anyway, I did go on a few dates - ones that she didn't set up - but nothing panned out," he looked over at you and smiled tenderly, "Was waitin' for you, I think."

You scoffed, "Oh, now that's bullshit."

"No, sweetheart, that's flirting," he replied, and suddenly his hand was on your thigh, palm warm and flat through the denim, "Woulda thought you knew that."

Immediately your eyes fell to his hand, swallowing tightly at how large it was on your thigh, thumb gently stroking you through your jeans. You looked back up at him and involuntarily licked your lips, feeling a cascade of tingles flutter through your body when you saw him looking right at you.

"...Are we gonna have sex?" you asked bluntly, voice quiet, and the expression on his face changed from sensuality to shock as he released your leg and groaned, covering his face.

"How do you both do that?" he asked, voice muffled by his palms, "How do you just say shit without any thought?"

You covered your own mouth, trying not to giggle too loudly. He was right, you and Ellie both did have a bluntness about you, a desire to say what you felt before really thinking about it. You supposed asking him directly if you were going to have sex was probably not the sexiest thing in the world, but you were desperately out of practice.

"I'm sorry," you laughed softly, "I'm just... I'm not good at this. It's been a long time since I've...." you shook your head, "Like, I'm talking years, Joel. That long."

He gave you a smile and dropped his hands again, placing his left back on your thigh and squeezing it gently, reassuringly, "We don't have to, it's okay."

"But you want to," you replied immediately, "So do I, I'm just worried that..." your gaze scanned the tree line until you saw Ellie's still form, far away in the darkness.

"Let's just get in bed," he breathed, squeezing your thigh again, "We'll figure it out."

You felt yourself blush, starting to feel slightly self conscious as the reality of what was about to happen - because it was about to happen, you knew that - set in.

"Sleeping bag, you mean," you replied a bit breathlessly.

He cringed, "Oh. Right."

You both laughed and any tension you'd been feeling melted away in the warmth of his voice, the softness in his expression. You trusted him so much, you knew that if you asked him not to touch you he'd listen, would respect you completely. Your ears burned red as you shuffled over to the sleeping bag and thought alternatively that if you asked him to touch you, asked him to do pretty much anything to make you feel good, he'd do that too.

The safety you felt climbing underneath the sleeping bag beside him was unmatched; the last time you'd slept this way under the stars you'd still just been friends, allies, protectors. Now you were his girl, and you guessed that meant he was your guy. The thought made you smile.

You cuddled in close beside him, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. There was no more hesitation, no more questioning what anything meant, you were his and he was yours. Simple. Sweet.

You laid like that for a while, both of you secretly waiting until you were sure Ellie was asleep, even though you doubted she'd be able to hear you at this distance. Still, you waited, and so did he, just holding each other and quietly enjoying each other's company.

"I want to," you eventually told him softly, burrowing yourself into him more and inhaling his scent, so much fresher after his bath in the spring, "Take it slow, though, okay? Be...be gentle."

"Of course," he murmured, kissing your head again, "I'll go as slow as you need me to, I swear. The second I do something wrong, you tell me."

The next few minutes were pure bliss on their own as you both undressed each other in the darkness, feeling for buttons and zippers and laughing breathlessly as you exposed yourselves to one another again. It was different this time, laying there getting naked instead of standing across from each other. You reveled in how strong he felt beneath you, the way his fingers trailed up and down your back like they had in the spring, pulling you closer.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, and carefully flipped you so he was on top, his big hands gliding across your body hungrily, "Don't know how you're real."

His words made you feel so warm, so safe. Your hands came up and tangled in his hair as he leaned down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, tongue dancing across the sensitive little bumps that trailed across the flesh. You whimpered and pulled slightly at his curls, soft and silky under your touch.

You felt one of his hands snake down your torso and cup you where you were completely bare for him, already wet and begging to feel him. His finger slipped between your soft lips, opening you up for him and rubbing circles into your clit gently. He continued to suckle at your breast, the scruff of his beard scratching against your skin in the best possible way.

He pulled back to look up at you, eyes hooded and lustful, "Feel good, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you breathed, voice breaking, "Feels so good, Joel. Need more."

He smiled at you knowingly and pressed one final kiss to your nipple, thumb tracing it lightly before he slowly began to shuffle downward beneath the sleeping bag. You watched in slight confusion before you realized where he was going, what he was doing.

"Oh, fuck," you whispered, and he looked up at you again.

"Gonna taste you, that okay?"

You nodded, cheeks flushing a bright red, "If you want to."

He chuckled like you'd said something funny and pressed a tiny kiss to your hip bone, wet and warm, "I want to, baby. I've wanted to."

You watched with your lip between your teeth as he disappeared beneath the confines of the sleeping bag. Part of you wanted to lift it up and watch, but you weren't sure you could handle that level of vulnerability, not when you were already feeling so shy. You just closed your eyes and leaned your head back, taking deep breaths and focusing on the way his lips pressed more gentle kisses back and forth along your hips, your belly, your thighs. He was so tender, so sweet, so loving, it almost made you want to cry.

When he licked a gentle stripe along your center you felt yourself involuntarily begin to fist the blanket beneath you in both hands, trying not to make too much noise as he tasted you for the first time. His breath was so hot against your pussy, his lips damp and tongue so wet as he circled the tip of it around your clit, one of his hands pressing flush against your stomach, the other snaking up to your inner thigh to hold you open. You shook in his grasp, feeling yourself drip down onto the blanket, shaking even more when he pulled back to lap up what he could from one of your thighs.

"Joel," you moaned softly, eyes still closed as you reached down and felt for his hair, tugging on it gently.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly, waiting for your reply before he went any further.

"Yes," you whined, "More." You didn't know where this demanding version of yourself had come from but he didn't seem to be complaining, chuckling softly to himself as he leaned back in to taste you again. He sucked gently on your clit, his beard pressed firmly against your throbbing hole. You couldn't see him but you knew he was probably covered in your wetness, practically dripping in it. The thought made you tense up, stomach tightening as you felt his tongue slip from your clit to your entrance and slowly prod its way inside.

"Oh, fuck," you groaned, fingers tightening in his hair, "Right there."

Listening to your encouragement, he pushed his tongue further inside of you, nosing your clit and holding you open a bit wider. He moved his hand from your stomach and brought it down to touch your pussy, slicking up his fingers before delicately pressing one in alongside his tongue. You writhed beneath his touch, pulling his hair probably a bit harder than you'd meant to, but he didn't seem to care.

"Gonna come," you said it apologetically, slightly ashamed as your legs squeezed his head between your thighs as he continued to fuck you with his tongue and finger, nose still pressed firmly against your clit like it belonged there. He didn't say anything, didn't stop, just kept licking and sucking and fingering until you were a complete mess, whimpering out his name hopelessly in the darkness. He kept going throughout your whole orgasm, only stopping when you told him to, completely overstimulated.

"You doin' okay?" he asked you softly, crawling back out from underneath the sleeping bag. You were right; his face was glistening with your release, beard wet and shining.

You reached up and touched his wet chin, scrunching up your nose, "I'm sorry."

He looked surprised by your words, "For what?"

"You're a mess," you replied, feeling embarrassed, "And I came too early."

He shook his head with a smile, "Sweetheart, the mess is the best part."

--

He didn't want you to suck him, admitting to you with a hint of guilt in his voice that he would end up coming before getting to actually be inside you, and you made a mental note to make sure you tasted him next time. It was only fair.

Plus, you wanted to. Very badly.

You now found yourselves laying underneath the sleeping bag again, him spooning you from behind and kissing your neck as he fingered you steadily, groin pressed firmly against you. It was so different now that you were both naked, his cock sitting large and heavy against your ass while the head bobbed back and forth along your lower back, leaving your skin sticky and wet. Your eyes were closed, a stream of whines and whimpers falling from your lips as he pushed a third finger inside and fucked you slowly, whispering things in your ear that you'd only dreamt of.

"Takin' my fingers so well," he murmured, kissing your ear tenderly and pulling some of your hair back and out of your face, "Gotta get you ready for my cock, don't wanna hurt you, baby."

"I need it," you moaned, leaning back into his touch, feeling his hand reach down to cup one of your breasts, "Joel, please, I'm ready."

"Okay, sweetheart," he whispered, "Lay on your back for me."

Lying there underneath the sky as Joel situated himself above you, seeing his gorgeous body silhouetted against the shape of the moon and the twinkling of stars, you knew in that moment that this was exactly where you were supposed to be. You watched with tender fondness in your eyes as he placed his hands above you, leaned down to press a soft kiss to your cheek, and aligned himself at your entrance.

"I'm so glad you exist," you breathed, wanting him to know how you felt, wanting him to feel it the way you'd felt it that first night.

"Baby," he breathed, brow furrowing as the head of his cock slipped inside you slowly, "I don't exist without you."

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he pushed himself inside inch by inch, watching your face and making sure it felt good, making sure you wanted it. You'd never wanted anything more in your life than you wanted him at that moment.

He found a rhythm easily, fucking into you slowly and steadily while he cradled your head and peppered kisses all along your skin, showing you continuously how much he wanted you. In response you held him tighter, hands pressed flush against the width of his strong back as he plunged in and out of you. Every so often he'd make sure to look directly in your eyes, give you those special smiles he reserved especially for you, and whisper to you how good it felt.

"You're so big," you whispered, voice broken and weak, "So fucking big."

"Doesn't hurt, does it?" he asked, slowing a bit and peering down at you with concern, "Don't need me to stop?"

You shook your head frantically, "No, don't stop, feels so good, Joel," you looked up at him earnestly, feeling tears prick in your eyes, "Go faster, please."

He didn't need telling twice, picking up his pace, bringing down one of his hands to thumb your clit as he fucked you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You dug your nails into his back, eyes shutting tightly as he pounded into you over and over.

"Where do you want me to come, sweetheart?" he groaned in your ear, breath hot against your skin, "Tell me where, quick."

"Anywhere," you whimpered, biting down hard on your lip as he rubbed your clit furiously, wanting to get you there at the same time as him, "You can come anywhere you want, please."

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, "Tell me when you're coming, wanna come with you, baby."

"I'm close" you replied almost immediately, eyes going wide as you watched him start to fall apart above you, "Oh my god, don't stop, don't stop." you gripped his wrist tightly as he pressed harder on your clit, sending you over the edge, "Right there, Joel, right there."

You felt him pull out of you as you began to shake with your orgasm, body convulsing underneath him as he aimed his cock at your breasts and painted you with his come, marking you. Your eyes rolled back in your head, his fingers still stimulating your clit over and over until you'd finished.

"Oh my god," he groaned, deep and husky, the last few aftershocks wracking through his body as he released his fingers from your clit and brought them to his cock, slicking himself up as he fisted himself a few more times, small spurts of come still pulsing out of him and onto your chest.

"Fuck," you breathed in response, throwing your arms above you and laying there panting. The stars had somehow moved from the sky and were now permanently dancing behind your lids, white and sparkling every time you closed your eyes.

Your body was heavy and warm, relaxed and satisfied. You didn't want to move. And you didn't have to, feeling Joel wipe you gently with some of the toilet paper you'd stolen from the resort, taking extra care to make sure he cleaned your thighs as well. Eyes still closed, breath becoming more and more even, you felt him swipe the tissue along your breasts, slow and gentle.

"Almost done," he murmured, ripping off another piece and pressing it to your forehead where you realized you were practically drenched with sweat. He wiped it off and stroked your hair, kissing your temple lightly before settling in beside you. He pulled you in close, his body still naked and warm, heart pounding quickly against your back.

"I love you," you whispered into the darkness.

He pulled you impossibly closer, nosing your neck and breathing you in, "I love you," he whispered, like he'd said it a thousand times before.

And maybe he had.

[carlsdarling]

OML PLEASEEEE DO MORE OLDER READER AND CARL HCS IM BEGGING!!!! I just wanna take care of him :(

Carl x Older! Reader headcanons Part III

More headcanons. A lot of requests for this so I decided to do that now... Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw

Glenn showed you some pictures of Carl that he took with a Polaroid camera during the time in the prison. Carl was 13 or 14 years old back then, and you were enchanted by the pictures. "You were so cute," you purred against Carl's neck in bed at night. "I was never cute! I was already an adult back then and could handle a gun," Carl protested angrily. "Yes, you were really cute," you giggled. "Especially that picture of you sitting on the stairs with Beth. I bet you had a crush on her." The fact that Carl blushed proved that you'd hit the nerve. "Glenn shouldn't have shown you those pictures," Carl growled.

When the two of you are alone, Carl likes to call you his little cougar.

Carl makes a point of always appearing strong and being the one to care for you, but he's very emotionally vulnerable. On more than one occasion, you have had to comfort him because someone has made a silly remark about his eye. It hurts you when Carl is sad.

A few times you have played nasty tricks on people who have insulted Carl afterwards - making a mess in their houses or mixing mice faeces into their cereal boxes. It makes you unspeakably furious when someone is rude to Carl. There's now a fragile peace with Negan, but whenever he shows up in Alexandria, you can't help but insult him because Carl told you how Negan made him cry when he was younger.

For Carl's 19th birthday, you organized a surprise party at your house, and he was so happy. Michonne helped you get everything ready. At first she was very reserved towards you because she didn't appreciate the age gap, but now she and Rick have realized that you and Carl have serious feelings for each other.

Carl recently moved in with you and you think it's wonderful to be living with him now. It just feels right now that you've been together for six months.

You keep condoms in every room because you never know when you're going to get it on. You have a very high condom requirement. If possible, Carl always brings some with him when he goes on a supply tour. Some people have already noticed this and are constantly teasing him about it. Daryl in particular can't help it. "Carl, honestly, how many of these thingies do you need every day?"

You fucked in every room of the house - even in the kitchen, where you sat on the edge of the table and Carl positioned himself in front of you to penetrate you. He held your hips in a firm grip and thrust into you passionately, spurred on by the fact that you were moaning loudly and begging him. "Carl, harder! Even harder! Go faster!" you whimpered, digging your fingernails into his slender, smooth back. "You're so wanting," Carl gasped as he increased his pace and finally spilled his seed into you with a scream, his heart beating wildly. After that event, you had to grin every time someone came to visit, sat down at the table and you served coffee.

Carl doesn't like to get up early, and when he has the morning shift for guard duty, it's hard work for you to get him out of bed on time. Now you can place Michonne's gleeful laughter when she said when Carl moved in: "Have fun, Y/N, when Carl has to get up early. You'd best take the bed covers off him." But Carl clings to the covers and grumbles sleepily at you.

When Carl has had a difficult day, he is very quiet in the evening, very clingy and very cuddly.

You are so happy to have Carl. There are lots of girls his age in Alexandria who would love to be with him, but he chose you.

--

Tags: @tessasweet @taylormarieee @loveforcarl @knochentrocken0808 @xxcarlswifexx

[leiawritesstories]

babe, it's cold out there

written for @throneofglassmicrofics November prompts "bluster" & "chill" (and probably a few others lmao)

some cute fluff to take my mind off election day yippee!!

word count: 851

warnings: none!

enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aelin tugged the front door shut with a shiver, and it closed behind her with a thump that immediately raised a rapid patter of little footsteps from upstairs. Within two minutes, the kids had ambushed her, flinging their little arms around her legs and waist and clamoring over each other to tell Mama about their day.

"Your nose is pink, Mama!" Charlotte announced, pressing her finger to the tip of Aelin's nose as she snuggled into her mother's arms.

"It's awfully windy outside, honey," Aelin chuckled, kissing her six-year-old daughter's head.

Charlotte nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Daddy had to rake the leaves out of the driveway before you got home!"

"We jumped in the piles!" Bran added, beaming. He was seven, and anything that allowed him to make a mess all over the yard was his favorite activity. "I jumped soooo much!"

"I bet you did, B." Aelin hugged her older son, who wrinkled his nose and squirmed away before she could plop a kiss on his head too.

Lana, the oldest at nine and a half, scoffed under her breath as Aelin let Charlotte down. "And you got leaves in your underwear too."

"Did not!" Bran shrieked, indignant.

"Did too!" Lana stuck her tongue out at him. "Dad said it looked like you peed your pants."

"Shut up, La-La!" Outraged, Bran lunged at his big sister, who dodged and hid behind her mother.

Aelin caught him before he could start throwing fists. "Bran, buddy, you know that's not gonna get you anywhere, and you probably don't want Lana to hit you back."

"She's being mean, Mama," he complained, folding his arms across his chest, turquoise eyes narrowed in indignation.

"Did you have fun jumping in the leaves?"

"Yeah."

"Then don't let what Lana says bother you, okay?"

He huffed a childish sigh, the anger seeping from his small body. "Okay." His eyes brightened. "I got Declan to jump with me!"

"Did you, now?" Laughter sparkled in Aelin's eyes.

Lana snickered. "Dec wanted to do a belly flop, and we watched him to make sure he didn't get hurt."

"Gave me a damn heart attack." Rowan's voice interrupted Aelin's moment with her kids, and she turned to find her husband leaning against the entryway wall with a twin on each hip and a half smirk on his face.

"Don't be dramatic, Dad," Lana sighed, so much like her mother that it made Aelin laugh. "We're very responsible."

"That's my girl." Aelin wrapped her oldest in a hug, affectionately ruffling her blonde curls.

Lana peered at Aelin's face. "Lottie is right, Mom. Your nose is pink."

Aelin unwound the scarf that was looped around her neck. "Well, I had to be outside, and like you all know, it's pretty windy." She knelt down and opened her arms, and both of the twins came sprinting over, burying her in a bundle of three-year-old limbs and excitement. "Hi, little loves. What did you do at preschool today?"

"I make painting, Mama!" Rielle squealed right into Aelin's ear.

Aelin blinked, hiding her wince, and guided her youngest back a step. "I'm sure it's beautiful, sweetheart, but do you remember how we don't yell in people's ears?"

Rielle nodded. "I get my picture!" She ran out into the kitchen, and Aelin shook her head with a laugh as she turned to Declan, the older of the twins by eight whole minutes. "I heard you and Bran jumped in a big leaf pile."

His little face lit up. "I jump in leaves, Mama!" He spread his arms wide and flopped into her lap. "See?"

"Did you have fun?"

"Yeah!" He beamed up at her before running back over to Rowan and demanding for Dada to pick him up.

Rowan chuckled and hoisted the little boy up into his arms. "How about we give Mama a little break, hmm? I'm sure she wants to warm her chilly self up." He shot her a wink.

She shrugged out of her jacket and flicked her scarf at him. "Babe, it's cold out there. It's perfect time for..." She paused, flashing her husband a smirk. "Hot cocoa."

"Yay!" all of the kids yelped, immediately bursting into pleas for the colored marshmallows and bickering over who got to have the Uncle Dorian mug. Dorian had prank-gifted Aelin and Rowan a mug that was 3-D printed in a cartoonish shape of his face, and for some inexplicable reason, her kids were obsessed with it.

"I'm beginning to feel outnumbered," Rowan said under his breath as he set Declan down and went over to Aelin, slipping his arms around her waist. "Who's going to tell the hooligans that they still have to eat all of their dinner even though they get hot cocoa before dinnertime?"

"Oh, I'm sure you can still put on your Stern Daddy face if you have to." She winked wickedly at him, muffling her giggle as his face went scarlet.

"You're a naughty, naughty woman," he mumbled, hiding his blush in her hair.

She just grinned and rose onto her tiptoes to kiss him. "You love it."

"Damn right, I do."

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@mysterylilycheeta

[conartisthaiji]

[image description: 9 slides from a slideshow. The slideshow has a white background with black text in comic sans. Each slide is as follows.

Slide One: Witch Hat Atelier, by a little witch academia fan (sorry in advance)

Slide Two: Basic Overview

NOT to be confused with Little Witch Academia 

yes, they both have a cheerful bad-at-magic lesbian who is in love with a grumpy magic prodigy lesbian (...i think) and yes, the uniform features cute little hats and robes and yes they are at a magic school and yes the two main teachers have homoerotic tension and…huh.

Just don’t call it witch hat academia (<-has done that)

Next to the words is the cover for the first volume of Witch Hat Atelier, which shows a blonde girl, Coco, cheerfully jumping down.

Slide Three: Blonde Akko Kagari

She’s blonde 

Her name is Coco 

Very sweet looking like i bet she’s just the nicest 

Probably had something tragic happen to her i bet it’s qifrey’s fault

Oh my god maybe this IS little witch academia 

Next to the text is the cover for the first volume of Witch Hat Atelier.

Slide Four: Not Olruggio

Lesbian (my mutuals told me so) (okay actually one of them had Agott over a lesbian flag as their profile but that’s basically the same thing) 

I did confuse her with Olruggio wha but no, she is a lesbian and her name is Agott. 

Rhymes with fa-i am forcibly removed from the room.

I just know she’s emo as hell like she looks like everything thirteen year old me would LOVE. unfortunately I am in my twenties. 

See next slide for blorbo.

Next to the text is the cover for the second volume of Witch Hat Atelier, which shows Agott sitting in a chair and staring out with a bored expression on her face.

Slide Five: Richeh!!!!!!!!

Blorbo-in-law 

I mean, she’s gonna be my blorbo now.

Look at her i love her she can do no wrong.

Her eyebrows are my fave thing about her like they are so expressive

Next to the text are two manga panels of Richeh, one showing her eating noodles from a bowl, and one showing her cheering with her arms raised. Text behind her says, "Riche is sold out!" Next to these panels is the cover for the fourth volume of Witch Hat Atelier, which shows Richeh sitting on the side of a cliff.

Slide Six: The little pink one

She’s…pink 

I hate to say it but i do not know anything about her 

Not even her name

Sorry to all fans of the little pink one 

I bet she’s the energetic/upbeat one of the group though

Next to the text is the cover for the fifth volume of Witch Hat Atelier, which shows a pink-haired girl leaping gleefully into the air.

Slide Seven: Qifrey without a U

It’s QI-FREY. No u. 

Now why is he wearing a one-lens sunglasses. Sun monocle. 

It’s probably just the cover art sorry Shirahama

Gay and sad i just know it 

Honestly i got nothing on this man

Next to the text is the cover for the third volume of Witch Hat Atelier, which shows Qifrey holding a book in one hand. One of the lenses on his glasses has been darkened.

Slide Eight: Not a teenage lesbian

So Olruggio is actually a teacher.

Upon closer inspection i see that his hair is not curly. I truly thought it was. Sorry Agott.

Qifrey may be gay and sad but Olruggio is gay sad and tortured about it 

Whatever is wrong with him has nothing on whatever the fuck is wrong with Qifrey i bet

Why is this picture so fucking pixelated.

Next to the text is the cover for the sixth volume of Witch Hat Atelier, which shows Olruggio jumping with his cloak flowing behind him. The picture is far more pixelated than the other images in this slideshow.

Slide Nine: Ok the end because i don’t know who else is part of witch hat! But go read witch hat atelier! Or just wait for the anime but i’m gonna go read the manga (and maybe i’ll rewatch little witch academia too teehee) /end id]

so sorry wha mutuals i didn't pay enough attention to your wha lectures 🙇🙇🙇

[mercurygray]

hiii friend, could i send "coffee splatters on paper" and/or" the smell of fresh coffee" and/or "empty coffee cup" (basically, any of the coffee ones) 😅 for fred and jo, please? <3 — @shoshiwrites

Shoshi, thank you so much for trusting me again with Jo. She is, as always, a joy and a delight. For those of you who don't know her, Jo Brandt is Shoshi's War Correspondent OC who has made several appearances in the TDS multiverse and appears here by kind permission from her author.

It was easier writing at the Aero Club.

There was always the extra work of bringing her typewriter with her from her room, but the portable was built for outings like this, and, too, there was something…comforting, about writing her column from the middle of things, or at least, as close to the middle of things as Jo was able to get at Thorpe Abbotts without being a security risk. Everyone came to the Red Cross club at some time or another, and the constant stream of chatter in the background made a nice change of pace from the birdsong and quiet tree rustles of the back garden.

And there was the bottomless coffee, of course. And the cat.

"Well hi there, mister, how are you?" Jo asked, as Spark Plug came up to rub against her chair and buff his head against her leg a couple of times. The black and white cat purred for a moment and then took the opportunity to jump up onto the table, narrowly missing Jo's empty coffee cup, and scratched himself against the side of the portable's carriage return a few times. "You're lucky you're cute," Jo said quietly, waiting for the animal to move out of the way before she started typing again. "Usually I charge for spelling errors."

"Excuse me, Miss, is this cat bothering you?"

Jo didn't need to look up at Fred to see that the woman was smiling at her own joke, coffee pot at the ready as she did her rounds of the room. "Yeah, as a matter of fact," she said, sitting back in her chair and holding tightly on to her empty cup before Fred could try filling it. "He was just yowling at me about when I'm going to do that piece about his owner."

The Clubmobile woman deflated a little. "Jo, I'm not -"

"But you are," Jo said, cutting into Fred's excuses about 'not being very newsworthy,' still guarding her cup so Fred wouldn't fill it and run. "You're the one everyone wants to read about! When all those mothers read about their sons they're sitting at home hoping someone's taking care of them -- and that's you."

Fred's smile could best be described as 'flat'. "Interview Mary - or Tatty! They've got much better stories than mine."

"Freda Torvaldsen, from Madison, Wisconsin, is very used to managing rambunctious attitudes," Jo said in a fake newsman's staccato. "Twenty-six years old, she put her career as a kindergarten teacher on hold to go overseas and entertain America's flyboys. From slinging doughnuts to singing tunes, there's nothing Fred, as she's known around base, can't do - and that includes rehabilitating stray animals." She paused for effect.

"You're making me sound like Snow White."

"I'll bet if I asked nicely I could find you seven guys to be dwarves," Jo shot back without missing a beat.

She was serious, and Fred knew it. "Please don't."

"And anyway, she's a brunette," Jo added, for effect. "Thirty minutes. And a picture. With the cat."

"No one wants -"

"Everyone will want a picture with the cat," Jo cut in strongly. "Especially after I tell them where he came from."

Fred got into enough arguments on a daily basis that she could tell when she had lost one, and she sighed (somewhat dramatically) and sat down just as the door opened and a fresh group of flyers rolled in. Most of them gravitated towards the counter and Mary Boyle, but one of them broke away to stand behind Fred's chair as if to look over her shoulder at Jo's typewriter.

"What's this? Fred Torvaldsen is sitting down? On a Tuesday?"

"I'm being interviewed," Fred said, looking up at the pilot with a fondness in her eyes that was hard to hide. Jo bit back a smile and allowed the pair their moment - Clubmobile girls weren't supposed to have favorites, but John Brady was one of Fred's. (If he had his way, he'd be more than a favorite, if Jo was any judge, but she supposed there would be time for that later. Hopefully.)

"Is our trusted correspondent going to write about how we'd all fall apart if you weren't here?" Brady asked, with absolute seriousness.

"I am, Captain Brady, thank you so much for suggesting that," Jo said strongly, before Fred could get a word in edgewise, grinning at him.

"You both are being very mean," Fred said with another one of her exasperated smiles.

"We are," Brady confirmed with a sly smile that did nothing to hide his delight. His hands never left the back of her chair, but there was something in his eyes, too, that was doing a lot of very heavy lifting for his favorite who wasn't supposed to be a favorite.

"There a party here I don't know about?" John Egan's voice came booming from behind Jo. When had he come in?

"I'm being interviewed," Fred cut in, before anyone could say anything else. "Jo's going to add me to her Rogue's Gallery for the Clarion."

"Excellent. Best news we've had all day. You'll make us all look good, Fred. Are you putting in a good word for her, Spark Plug? Are you?" The cat, which had formerly been relaxing next to the typewriter, had stood up as Egan approached, yowling softly for attention and closing his eyes to lean into Egan's large, warm hand and its energetic scritches, the cat's expression perhaps best described as 'pleased'.

Jo looked away to see Fred was watching her with an odd look in her eye and a secretive smile. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," Fred said mildly, sitting back in her chair. "Are we starting this interview now, or what?"

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Try Me Part 1/6

Here we go! Get ready for coach Ruben 😆

Summary - Reader is a very passionate football player and Ruben is her new and equally passionate football coach. However, the two of them can't seem to get along.

Enjoy!

"Pass the ball!"

You were flying, that was the feeling.

"Come on Y/N, pass me the ball I'm open!"

Your touch on the ball was magic, you were flying down the field. Your teammates couldn't keep up.

"Y/N!" The coach yelled. "Pass her the fucking ball!" Or he wasn't really your coach, but his assistant. He often used words like "fucking and bloody, followed by another set of curse words in another language." He was nearly your age only a few years older. It was hard to take anything he said seriously.

"She shoots, she scores!" You said and so you did, celebrating your magnificent goal with a tumble of cartwheels. It was the game winner, setting your team up for a great start in the summer cup group stage.

In midst of celebrating the victory with your team, you were suprised to be pulled aside by coach, or not really coach, Ruben was his name.

"What the hell was that?"

"What?"

"That!" He pointed to the goal where you just scored the goal of your life, however, instead looking impressed his face boiled with rage.

"Oh that. It was the game winner coach." Compared to your teammates you called him coach, but in a way that he knew that you were mocking him.

"Yeah, well, if you pull that shit again you can kiss the bench, because that's the only place I'll be putting you if you wanna play for my team."

"You can't bench me." You frowned. "I'm the best player on the squad."

"Unless you get rid of that bad attitude of yours, I'll do whatever I want with you."

"I bet you like it though?" You challengend, your face in his face.

He raised his brow in suprise.

"I found your profile on Tinder, cute pics by the way. A bit inappropriate, but cute."

He worked his jaw, probably fighting the urge to lose his composure with you, his trainee.

It wasn't you who found his Tinder profile. All the girls had a laugh about it in the locker room the other day. You held the phone though, while you're teammates begged for you to swipe right.

"Fuck it." He snorted. "I'm benching your ass the next game."

"You can't speak to me like that!"

"Well, I just did!"

He turned his back on you and walked away, leaving you stranded on the football field.

You longed for a shower once you got home. However the hot water was out, probably because your six year old step sister was splashing away in the tub. The water was cold when you pulled her out.

"Dad?" You entered the kitchen, Mimi in your arms, wrapped up in a towel. Your dad and his friends sat around the table playing cards, a cloud of cigarette smoke hovering above their heads.

"Dad?" He hadn't heard you the first time, the second time made him turn his head.

"Y/N, you're home. Great!" The cigarette stump bounced between his lips when he talked. "Go down to the corner shop will you, get me and Bubby a pack of Camel Blue. And how about some crisps for the beer? We've got guests coming over later."

"Dad, for how long did you leave Mimi in the tub?" You said, ignoring his request.

He frowned. "I didn't leave Mimi in no tub. She probably climbed in there herself, like she always do my good furniture. Ain't that right my sweet  Mimi?"

"Yes!" She happily exclaimed. She loved it when he called her that, sweet Mimi. You used to be sweet Y/N when you were the youngest. Now you were just the forgotten middle child, Mimi's babysitter.

"Let's get you cleaned up." You said,  drying her wet nose with the towel.

"Don't forget about the cigaretts!" Your dad called after you.

You and Mimi shared rooms whilst the others had their own. You had two older brothers, all with the same father but different mother's. Or, it was only you with a different mother. Mimi, Benji and Charles all shared the same parents. Right around when the boys were ten and fourteen their dad would go on to cheat on their mother with your mother, their next door neighbor. You all grew up around the same estate, until your mother passed away with cancer and you had to move in with them. Their mother eventually bailed too, but not because of cancer, she just hated your dad, leaving Benji, Charles and sweet Mimi behind.

"Daddy's friends are coming" Mimi said. You finished putting lotion on her body, moving on to her drawer to pull out a dress for her to wear.

"Yes." You nodded. "They're coming over tonight. But we'll stay in the room and watch Princess and the frog like we always do, okay?"

"Okay. I just don't like it when they shout."

You pulled the dress over her head, kissing the top of it. "Me neither Mimi, me neither."

After dinner you had Mimi come with you to the corner shop. It was not a good idea for her to be alone when your dad's friends came over.

"Can I have a lolly?" She asked.

"Just the one." You let her choose which ever flavour she liked.

"Y/N! How is football going?" Amin asked. He was the owner of the corner shop. Him and his family lived a floor below yours.

"It's going good. Our team is the top of our group. Hopefully we'll win it going on to the next round."

"Rember our deal." He smiled. "If your team makes it to the summer cup final, I'll bet good money on you to score and share the cut with you."

"How can I forget." You laughed. You needed that money to by new football cleats for the upcoming season.

"Bye Amin! Say hello to your wife from me."

"I will, have a good night girls."

"Thanks for the lolly!" Mimi pulled the candy from her mouth, waving it in the air.

You locked yourself in your bedroom once you got home. You let your computer rest on top of your bed whilst you climbed in to lay with Mimi in hers. There you lay watching Princess and The Frog, putting the movie on repeat until Mimi fell asleep. It wasn't difficult to ignore the drunken laughter happening outside the door.  Occasionally someone would pull the handle and give Mimi a fright. But you had taught her to laugh at the muffled up curse words of whichever alcholic got it wrong on their way to the bathroom.

It wasn't ideal, but it was your life. Football made it better though, football made your life worth living.

You pulled out your phone, careful not to wake up Mimi whose limp body lay beside you. You opened up Tinder, suprised to be notified about a message from your latest match.

It was Ruben, sending you a winking smiley face.

You slapped your hand against your mouth, smothering your astonished gasped. The fake profile your teammates made must have really caught his eye, because there he was, in your DM's. You thought about earlier today, muttering "No one puts me on the bench."

Your heart raised, typing out the message, a message Ruben was going to regret answering, if he was bold enough. It read:

I like guys with big eggplants. Do you have a big eggplant? 😘

Taglist:

@kathb59

[pleasuretrade]

hi here's the very rough(!) first chapter of a fic that i'm not done with.

if anyone wants to beta or just offer feedback i would be grateful :') but i'm writing this very slowly and don't plan on seeing it done for at least a few more months

March x Healy

Summary: 1980. March and Healy take your classic "reunite me with my estranged adult child" case and may or may not wind up getting involved with a cult, irritating 80's toys, shady business, gardening, and drugs. Oh, and they're pretending to be boyfriends because that's totally a perfect cover??

Rating: 18+ for the eventual porn

Length: I'm gonna guess 30k? I'm at 15k rn and we're maybe halfway through. frankly i got no idea

Tags that aren't exhaustive and mostly aren't applicable to this first chapter, but just a sneak peek: pretending to be boyfriends and there's only one fucking bed anyway bitch, March wearing jeans

 The thing about kitsch dolls was that they were supposed to be cute. In abundance they became disturbing. An uncanny noise of soft pastel abstraction, dotted with innumerable eyes, staring at you from living room walls and display cabinets. It didn’t help that almost all of them were religious; angels with halos, praying children, robed biblical figures. March felt like he might combust if he made direct eye contact with the teeming mass of holy ceramic.

“March, did you write that down?”

 Holland whipped his head toward Healy, and then at their client, and then at his open, empty notepad. See, you shouldn’t have that many dolls in one room, it’s distracting. It’s weird. “Sorry, ma’am, could you repeat that?”

“Benjamin Larry Hooper. We called him Benny.”

“Bejamin….L… Hooper… Benny.” March mumbled, pen dashing across the page with a show of gumption.

 Mrs. Hooper nodded at him, all patterned dress and curled hair, hands placed politely on top of their respective thighs. “He was fifteen when he left, he’ll be twenty-six now. Tall for his age, I’m sure he’s giant by now.”

 Holland wrote in big block letters: DOB 1953 TALL

“This is my most recent picture of him, just a few months before he left.” Mrs. Hooper, Francis, reached across her doilied coffee table to hand Healy a framed photograph. It was obviously some kind of family reunion, the photo lined with folks like a tin of sardines. “That’s Benny.” she said, tapping a young man sitting cross legged in the very front row.

 Benny Hooper looked like any other fifteen year old at a family reunion, irritated or bored or both. He had a great mop of hair, a downright halo of pitch black curls reaching every direction. The slacks and short sleeved button-down were probably not his normal choice of attire, so that wouldn’t be helpful even if the kid had disappeared less than a decade ago. The shot was too wide to memorize the details of someone’s face on top of being old. The Benny in the photo hadn’t even finished puberty yet. Overall, the photo wasn’t great.

“Very helpful, thank you. We could use any other photographs you have, too.” Healy smiled pleasantly the way he did. It was freakish, the way the guy could go from deadpan bruiser to soft-eyed teddybear in an instant.

 Holland smiled along, ignoring the everpresent eyes of Mrs. Hooper's kitsch, even though he knew that there was no chance in hell they were finding Benny Hooper.

-

 “There’s no chance in hell, man.” March lit his cigarette in the passenger seat and donned his sunglasses.

 Healy tapped his fingers where he rested his arm in the open window. “We have a lead.”

“If you wanna call maybe seeing a glimpse of someone you haven’t seen in eleven years driving a truck a couple of times a lead, sure, we have a great lead. Can we stop at Hammy’s? Told Holly I’d bring home dinner.”

“Y’know, I bet I could count on two hands the number of times you’ve gone proper grocery shopping since I’ve known you.”

“That’s not true, you went grocery shopping with us like two weeks ago.”

“And you bought eggs, bread, a gallon of neon colored juice, a gallon of whiskey, and five frozen pizzas.”

“Are those not groceries? Is that not sustenance?” March waved his cigarette for emphasis.

“Anyway,” Healy redirected, taking the turn toward Hammy’s, “all we have to do is stake out the spot she saw the truck, right?”

“If everything worked out just that easy we’d be out of a job, Jack.” March took a drag from his cigarette, thanking the stars that loaded, aging ladies were willing to shill out for the most unfeasible asks imaginable time and time again. Healy let it sit because he knew it was true by now, well over two years down the line as a PI.

“Why do you think the kid really left?” Healy asked after a while, expertly flat when Holland had figured out eons ago that the guy really was invested in each case, even the small ones.

“I don’t know, too many doilies? An aversion to puce colored carpet? I wouldn’t stay long either.”

 Healy ignored him. “I find it hard to believe he just up and left for no reason.”

“Maybe Mrs. Hooper’s chicken is dry.” Healy purposefully hit the curb pulling into Hammy’s, jostling March’s cigarette nearly out of his hand. “I mean, it’s not like it matters. Even if we find the kid, he’s not comin’ back. Ten fuckin’ years. Remember that girl, Arrow or Rainbow or whatever she named herself?”

 Healy grunted in reluctant remembrance. They’d found her after a long, boring two months and by the end of it all she’d had to say was ‘thanks for letting me know my family's looking for me, you can go now.’ Not that it mattered much to Holland. They made out with enough money to take a couple of weeks off so they could take Holly to Catalina Island. She got food poisoning on the first day but still claims it was the best trip they’d been on in years (which wasn’t very meaningful considering they’d gone on maybe three of them since she was little).

“Guess you’re right.” Healy parked the car in the crowded parking lot. The line at Hammy’s was always so damn long. “Not getting paid to psychoanalyze the guy.” He sounded reluctant. Any time Healy couldn’t slip in one more act of Good it made him feel like a failure. It was something March secretly admired, however harebrained it was. He glanced a punch off Healy’s shoulder before getting out of the car. “That’s the spirit.”

-

“So why do you think he really left?” Holly asked through a mouthful of burger.

“Jesus, you two should become shrinks.” March grumbled.

 Healy sat comfortably sunken into the couch, a March sitting cross legged on the floor on either side of him. “It might be useful to know.” he added.

“Right. Like maybe you’ll be able to narrow down what kinds of places he’d go if you knew.” Holly agreed.

“Our only lead is a truck. Anyone can drive a truck. I don’t care why he’s driving it. All we have to do is follow.”

“So you admit, it’s a lead.” Healy pointed at him with a french fry.

“It’s a crumb of a lead. It’s the suggestion of a lead. It’s a lingering scent of maybe a lead.”

“Says the guy with no sense of smell.” Healy winked at Holly, who bit her lip to stop her smile from blooming. “A lead’s a lead.”

“Did you notice anything about Mrs. Hooper’s house? Like, anything that might make someone want to run away?” Holly was fifteen and already putting in more work than March.

“Yeah, puce carpet.”

 Healy nudged March with a socked foot. “She seemed nice. Boring, maybe. Said her husband died a few years ago and her other kid’s off at college somewhere, so the house was pretty quiet.”

“Boredom could drive someone away.” Holly said thoughtfully.

“And if it did that still gives us absolutely nothing to go on. Some kids just hate their parents, alright? Guy probably just hitchhiked to New York or something.” March said.

“Sounds nice.” Holly murmured under her breath. Healy nudged her with his other foot.

 March, begrudgingly, loved the gentle way Healy mediated. Fatherhood was something Holland hadn’t really been prepared for, much less being the single dad of a teenager. It didn’t help that he was a big time fuckup or that Holly was too smart for her own good. Having another person in their lives— having Healy in their lives— was a saving grace.

 Recently, Holly had started dating her first boyfriend. Or at least the first that she’d admitted to when she’d lost all plausible deniability after that time they’d picked her up from school and seen her drop some young punk’s hand like a hot iron. It was a point of contention now, between Holly and Holland. Boys were pigs, and Holland would know, he used to be one. It was one of the endless number of things Healy had become referee over, but also something Holly had adopted a near constant attitude because of.

“So when are you starting the stakeout?” Holly asked, fiddling with the cracked straw of her milkshake. March looked at Healy for an answer. He was always better at managing their schedule. Unlike March, he usually remembered what day of the week it was. Healy looked back at him and shrugged. Wasn't like they had another case on, much to the dismay of their wallets. “Tomorrow, I guess.”

 Holly got that look on her face. “Can I come?” Tomorrow was a Saturday.

 March shook his head. “Don’t you have normal teenage things to do? Shouldn’t you be like sneaking vodka out of someone’s mom’s cabinet on a Saturday?”

 Healy chimed in before she could argue. “It’s gonna be boring anyway, Holl. You’ll be sitting in the backseat twiddling your thumbs all day.” She knew that. She’d been on stakeouts with them before. But Healy’s say was more valuable to her than her dad’s, apparently, so she dropped it.

 It was late when Healy headed home, agreeing on the asscrack of dawn to reconvene and start their stakeout.

“Why doesn’t he just live here? You guys spend every day together anyway.”

 March wandered into the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of rye. Their (second) rental, real house unbuilt as ever, was always so still when Healy left. Another item on the laundry list of things March tried not to think about. “Because he’s a grown man, Holly, with his own house.”

“I wouldn’t call that dump a house, and anyway it’s an apartment. He should be sleeping here and not in an attic with a laughtrack that plays until two in the morning.”

“Well then you can invite him to stay for a sleepover next time. You guys can paint nails and read magazines.” Holland wasn’t stupid. He knew that wasn’t really what girls’ sleepovers were like. One time he’d walked in on Holly and her friend eating donuts and saying such depraved things about Joe Strummer that he’d vowed to not open the door without knocking ever again. He never looked at that Clash poster on her wall the same way.

 Holly scoffed in time with the ice tinkling into Holland’s tumbler.

-

 The sun shone way too brightly for Holland. When he’d woken up he’d still been a little drunk, but now out of the house and into Healy’s car a hangover had eagerly seeped in. They’d agreed to start the stakeout before the sun came up, but March had skillfully convinced Healy to take him through a drive-thru breakfast and they were running late. He now nursed a coffee as the sun rose into the perfectly wrong spot in the sky. They watched cars zip lazily by from the corner of a parking lot.

“I just think it would be good to have a dog around.” They’d had this discussion every other day for a month now. March wanted a dog in the house for the very logical reason of alerting them to intruders, Healy nay-sayed because he was a killjoy with no imagination.

“I’m telling you, March, putting in a doggy door just isn’t gonna be enough for a German Shepherd. And we all know you’re not gonna walk it.”

“Why do you even care so much, man? It would be my dog.” And more importantly, why did Healy even have a say in whether or not they got a dog?

“I care because I’d somehow get stuck taking it out half the time. And your sorry ass wouldn’t train it. We’d have an untrained, overpriced menace tearing around the house.” The house. Not Holland and Holly’s house, but The House.

“Well, whatever, even if that was true it’d make a good guard dog, right? No one’s getting past a pent up, feral German Shepherd. Might shit on the carpet but it’ll take a guy’s dick off. Balls too.”

“You should really consider a shrink. I think you’ve lost your damn mind.” Healy shook his head, but Holland caught his smile.

“You taking new patients, doc? I’ve been told by my teenager that I’m a headcase.”

“I could make some room in my busy schedule. Gonna cost you about the same as a purebred German Shepherd, though.”

 March smiled and leaned back into his seat. Absolutely nothing of interest was happening outside at all, which was just fine now but give March three or so more hours and he’d start going stir crazy and the headache wasn't helping.

 Mrs. Hooper had seen the truck twice, once in the morning and once in the early evening, which gave them an unfortunately broad window of time. She’d described it as a white, short cab semitruck, maybe a GMC, with a small trailer on it, which narrowed it down almost not at all. It sounded like every third short haul semi chugging around Los Angeles, of which there were many. Very many.

 The only thing they had to go off of was that the second time around she’d seen what she thought was some kind of blocky hand-lettering on the driver’s side door, done in “nearly illegible” multicolor. When Healy had asked what she meant by “multicolor” Mrs. Hooper had only elaborated as “horribly garish.” So at least there was that.

 The odds that the guy driving the bespoke truck was this Benny person were essentially zero. That was about half their cases these days, desperate longshots funded by desperate rich people. The other half was still taking photographs of idiots who fuck with the curtains open. It was wearing a little thin. Couldn't people invent more important problems to investigate? Whatever. A job’s a job’s a job.

 The coffee in March’s cup had gone cold just in time to meet the creeping heat from outside. He downed the tepid sludge before wrenching the little metal fan out of the back seat and plugging it in. It whirred to life gracelessly.

“Hey.” Healy tapped him on the arm, which startled and excited Holland enough that he flung his empty coffee cup onto the floorboards.

“What—what, you see something?”

 A short cab semi puttered toward them from a distance, aiming for a perfectly timed red light. Healy pulled up the binoculars and squinted through them, waiting for the cab to pull into view enough to see the driver’s door. March’s breathing was shallow in anticipation.

 The truck moved, and Healy tutted, and March could see the glaringly blank door even without the binoculars. “Driver’s blonde. Ginger beard.” Healy said, still staring through the eye pieces like the truck and driver might magically change. “False alarm.”

“They’re all gonna be false alarms. This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack, only the needle was never in the haystack to begin with.”

 Finally, Healy let the binoculars fall into his lap. “I ever told you how much I love your optimism?”

[azures-bazar]

Hey was just wondering if you could do an Arthur x reader and Arthur being in the saloon and his wife is also there and the guys he’s with are teasing him about how single he is and Arthur’s like bet I can get the girl to leave with me and there like there is no way in hell that woman would leave with you but she’s his wife and Arthur downs his drink and walks up to his wife like hello gorgeous, how would you like to ride home on a real cowboy I got a six pack of cold ones and my roomie is out all night so you can scream my name as loud as you need to sugar and they walk out together and everyone’s gobs smacked and the readers like will you just stop and tell people I’m your wife and Arthur’s like nah I love the surprise on there faces when the see a beautiful woman like you wants to date me plz

Lonesome Pretty Boy 

Hello there anon, and thank you for this request ! I wrote this shot by night (again), please don’t mind my awful mistakes ! I loved the plot btw !

I hope you'll like it ! I kinda struggled with the teasing lol

Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader 

Word count : 2.6k

Short summary : Sometimes, Arthur likes impressing folks around him, not usually being able to score with women. But tonight, this woman is you. 

A/Note : set relationship - Arthur is married to Reader 

Tags : chapter 2, Arthur being flirty af, Roger Clark’s intimate voice lines with horses inspiration, teasing, cute nicknames

Oh, finally ! Dutch had finally decided to give Arthur some sort of day off for him to relax ! Morgan did not get the chance to have a break for weeks, and Sean’s rescue party was just a very quick glimpse of what some rest and carelessness could feel like. Just a day off, away from the rest of the gang, away from chores, away from endless requests from Strauss or Grimshaw, from Swanson’s drunkenness, Uncle’s complaints about his lumbago… or Sean’s overall presence. Just one day off felt like an entire holiday for Arthur. You two headed to Smithfield’s saloon in Valentine, Arthur wanted to be with you, to enjoy his rare free time by your side. You had even chosen your best gown for this occasion !

You had been a member of the gang for a long while already. It felt like ages, especially since you could remember welcoming a teenage Mary-Beth and lend her your old clothes. Arthur’s relationship with had always been quite peculiar, to say the least. He had displayed evident signs of attraction since the very first day you stepped foot in camp, with Dutch firmly holding you by the shoulders. He had stumbled upon you as you were on your way to a prison, while a couple of "old rich degenerates", as he called them, were begging the sheriff to hang you. The cause of their complaints ? Ten dollars you had stolen from that old man’s pocket to buy yourself some food after not being able to eat anything but grass for days. Living in the streets was no easy thing, especially when you were a young woman at the mercy of these men surrounding you, whether they were good or bad. 

Arthur had welcomed you wide-open arms, offering you one of his old mattresses and blankets for you not to be cold. He had willingly asked Dutch to watch over you and had spent a few weeks taking care of your wellbeing. He had watched you swallow Pearson’s stew in one go after starving for days, drink gallons of coffee, caress the new clothes Grimshaw had given you, enjoying its soft fabric after being mostly used to torn jeans and dirty shirts.

"It’s for me ?" you had asked 

"Of course, dear." Grimshaw had chuckled. "We can get you more clothes if you like, I just need to tell Dutch."

"No, that's alright." 

What made Arthur fall for you was most certainly the way you held yourself and your beautiful facial features he could not help but gaze at for endless minutes. He was not good at expressing his feelings, feeling awkward most of the time. But, after a few months, you felt like the two of you had known each other for years. A few kisses and many wild nights in bed after his very first move towards you, Arthur had proposed to you under a large oak tree… and you would have been a fool to say no to these beautiful puppy eyes and soft smile. 

You had been married for months already, the gang was aware of it. People did not ask about what you were doing when Arthur’s tent flaps were closed, or why the two of you would not get straight back to camp after a successful robbery. You had been with Dutch during the Blackwater Ferry Heist and had nearly died while escaping the city, which led Arthur to become even more protective towards you, being awfully traumatised after watching you bleed from your numerous wounds. This was mostly why he wanted you to go to the saloon with him. He wanted to have you nearby, close enough for him to feel alright, to be sure you were safe. 

"Take a seat, sweetheart." Arthur told you as you two walking into the saloon. "I’m gonna get us something to drink." 

You sat at a nearby table while Arthur went to the counter to order some whiskey for the two of you, one shot for him, and a bottle to share with you. Three fellers were talking about women beside him, he found himself listening to their conversation. One of them was married and was proud enough to boast about it, while the other two kept lamenting on the overall absence of women in their lives. Indeed, after spotting Arthur so close to them, waiting alone at the counter for his whiskey, they quickly reacted. 

"Hey you, pretty boy." one of them said 

Arthur lifted his head up, glancing at these three men near him, frowning a little. He absolutely hated being called pretty boy, you were mostly the only person who could call him such… without him grumbling about it. Whenever you would mention his handsomeness, Arthur would quickly blush and attempt hiding his face by tilting his hat forward for you not to spot his reaction… and this was probably the most adorable thing he would do on a daily basis, along with smiling at you when you were getting dressed.

"Yeah, you, cowboy." that same man restarted. "No woman by your arm tonight ?"

"That ain't your business, partner." Arthur answered with a smirk 

"Can’t be easy to be a lonesome pretty boy, ain’t it ?" the married man laughed. "With all these women around..."

"Them women are too great for a dusty cowboy." another one laughed. "You ain’t gonna get a nice catch tonight." 

What this man told Arthur almost felt challenging, if not rather funny. He did not mind them telling him about all the dust covering him… it was somewhat true. Despite having washed himself earlier this evening, the ride to Valentine’s saloon did not help him staying clean, especially considering its muddy streets. Arthur approached these men while placing his hands on his gun belt. He was a few inches taller than them, but they did not mind. 

"I’d get all ‘em women on a plate if I wanted." one of them smiled. "All of them."

"That’s why you still ain’t got a wife, Henry." the married man sighed 

"Ain’t you a smart one, feller." Arthur sighed, patting so-called Henry’s shoulder. "Go get your chance with a prostitute, maybe you won’t finish your night alone."

"I bet you’ll do the same. Prostitutes are a better catch than a nice woman for a man like you." 

Arthur’s eyes widened as he quickly glanced around, noticing you were still reading your book. He could remember Hosea offering it to you following Sean’s party, you could not take your eyes away from it. He laughed a little as these men started joking around, still not feeling comfortable about them teasing him. He looked at his whiskey-filled glass and sighed, turning his head back to those three men, ready to prove them wrong by getting a nice catch tonight. 

"Well, ‘bet I can get that girl right here." Arthur said, pointing toward you

"That one ?" the married man asked, looking at you. "With the nice gown ?"

"No way." Henry laughed. "Look at her, she’s dressed so well ! She’s too good for you, you’re just a dusty cowboy."

"Let’s see that." 

Arthur gulped down his whiskey in one go, carefully taking two glasses and another bottle to your table while smirking at the group of men nearby. It felt like a challenge, something fun to do. He could still hear them talk behind him, mostly excited and amazed by this sudden courage Arthur displayed. Had it been with another woman, Arthur would have remained alone all night long.

"Hello there gorgeous." he said in the most flirtatious way 

"Arthur ?" you turned your head up as you noticed him leaning on one of the wooden columns near the table

"Would you like some whiskey ?" 

"Sure." 

Arthur did not dare sitting next to you, feeling that these three fellers laughing at the counter would spot his sham. One single mistake and this scam would be over. He handled you the glass, causing you to rise from your seat and stand beside him, gently placing your small book inside your leather satchel Pearson had crafted for you. Arthur kept smiling, tilting his hat a little as you blushed. He had never been this confident with you, despite the two of you were married for a while already ! 

"Ain’t you such a beauty, m’lady."

"Arthur, what’s going on ?" 

"It’s a shame to see you alone tonight." 

You raised your eyebrows, felling quite confused by his peculiar speech and overall attitude. You had known Arthur for a while to get to understand his psychology and flaws, noting his self-hate and disgust towards his appearance which was, for a vast majority of people, absolutely amazing. Everyone you met, aside from people who owed money to Strauss and who got beaten up by Arthur, for instance, genuinely thought he was a very handsome man, healthy and well-built, with a rather friendly face. Arthur never felt confident enough with anyone, and the night he had asked you out to propose to you almost felt like a miracle. 

"Why are you acting like this ?" you asked. "Just… sit down, you’re making me nervous."

"Well, Miss, would you like a ride on a real cowboy ?" Arthur said, pouring some whiskey in your glass while looking straight into your eyes 

"What ?"

"I've got a large box filled with cold beers at home, you know." 

"Sorry ?"

Your eyes widened as you did not understand what was going on, and why Arthur was behaving the way he did. Riding on a cowboy ? What did he try to asl you ? You spent a few seconds trying to process the meaning of his sentence as Arthur bent over your shoulder and gently bit your earlobe, causing you to shiver. His breath so close to your skin made you feel great, but the way he just came to you like this was quite suspicious. Just like Jack behaving like an angel with Abigail in order to hide the truth after messing around, Arthur’s overall attitude at the moment made you feel like he was hiding something. 

"Oh, and my housemate is out all night…" he whispered so intimately, causing you to smile a little, and leading men to suddenly stop talking

"Arthur." you chuckled. "What the hell is wrong with you ?" 

"Don’t worry, you’ll be able to scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar." 

You chuckled louder after taking a sip of your whiskey. Arthur had tried many nicknames with you, but both "sugar" and "gorgeous" were the ones he had never used. In fact, Arthur mostly called you sweetheart or dove, believing these sweet nicknames were suiting you enough for him to nearly forget your real name at some point. 

"So, gonna let me take home home ?" Arthur smirked. 

"We’ve only been here for a few minutes !" 

"This ain’t a place for us… we better go." 

"But…-"

"Let’s go, sugar." 

You gasped as you barely had time to place your empty glass on the table while Arthur wrapped his arm around your shoulders, leading you out of the saloon while passing by the three men he had encountered that same night, looking at him with wide-open eyes. Their’s jaws dropped as they saw how beautiful you were, so gentle-looking under his large arm. Who would have thought you would be willing to go with him ? Common people did not know about the two of being actually married. 

"And you said he’s just a dusty cowboy." one of them told Henry 

"Damn it." the latter grumbled, swallowing his beer in one go

Arthur gently opened the saloon’s door to allow you to walk outside, you went downstairs, closer to his horse as you felt like you were about to get into an argument. This was his quiet evening, you knew Dutch would not allow him going out by night again, purposefully keeping him around on guard duty while you would be doing chores with the rest of the girls. 

"What the hell was that ?" you grumbled, crossing your arms on your chest. "We barely had time to sit and enjoy our whiskey !"

"Sorry, err, ‘em men were teasin’, I told ‘em I was gonna get you." 

"Gonna get me ? I’m your wife, damn it ! You already have me !" 

You wanted to slap Arthur for his sudden lack of consideration towards your relationship but quickly avoided raising a hand towards his face by taking your book out and storing it in the horse’s satchel, not even bothering to look at Arthur. You hated when he was playing foolish games and your rather angry face led him to come closer to you, his hands behind his back. 

"I’m sorry, darlin’." he sighed, genuinely sorry. "I… I just wanted ‘em fellers to see that even dusty cowboys can get women they want."

"You saw their reactions, right ? Tell them the truth." 

"No, no. I ain’t gonna do that." 

You turned back to look at Arthur who was smiling, despite begging you to forgive him for his foolish mistake of not telling these men the truth about himself right away. Arthur tilted his head a little, sending you one of his most pleading looks he usually gave you when he knew he had done something wrong.

"Will you just stop behaving like a kid ?" you snarled. "Now, you get back inside and tell them I’m your wife."

"Nah !" Arthur laughed. "I loved that surprise on ‘em faces when they saw that a beautiful woman like you is willin’ to go out with me."

"If you don’t tell them, I will."

"Don’t." 

You really wanted to walk back inside the saloon to explain these three men that Arthur had lured them into a very believable lie, pretending that you were just a random stranger while being is actual wife. His blooming smile made you forget about your desire to get inside and break down his lie, his pleading look did not help one bit either ! 

"Please, Y/N ?" Arthur asked 

"Fine." you groaned. "Now that we’re out of the saloon, what do we do ?"

"Well…"

Arthur moved slightly closer, gently placing his large hands on your corseted waist, causing you to blush unexpectedly. You were still somewhat mad at him for lying the way he did, but did not care much anymore. Whenever your eyes would meet his, you would be quick to forget about his flaws and crimes, mostly focusing on the positive aspects of your relationship. 

"I can still get a large box of cold beers." Arthur smiled, giving you his eternal puppy glance. "And… since I don’t have any housemate, I believe a night at the hotel would be a great deal before comin’ back to camp tomorrow morning. Don’t you think ?"

"You’re hopeless, really." you sighed, unable to say no

"Ain’t that why you love me ?" 

"Yeah…"

You loved him for who he was, but his childish side would always make you chuckle. In fact, you could not resist him at all, no matter what he was doing or how he was doing it. Arthur was everything to you and you knew that, despite this nice moment at the saloon being cut short by his rather boyish behaviour, you were going to spend a wonderful and probably sleepless night with him, going wild in one of the hotel’s bedrooms. Neither you nor him would look fresh tomorrow on guard duty, but did this matter ? You were about to spend a wonderful night without feeling the need to worry about the gang. The rest of the world did no longer matter as long as you would be with Arthur, husband or not. This night was going to be great, and you would probably laugh about it someday. 

"Let’s go, Mrs. Morgan." Arthur smiled as you headed to the hotel 

"I can still scream your name as loud as I need ?" 

"You sure can. I even hope you will."

[luru-mlp]

So first we start with our ‘Element of Magic’ protagonist.

Meet Midnight Aurora!! A descendant of Starlight Glimmer. Midnight is a unicorn living in Canterlot and attending Celestia’s old school for gifted unicorns. (Though at this point in time, it has undergone many changes to include other magic-wielding creatures.) While Midnight does seem gifted with extraordinary power like her ancestor, she is not able to control it as well as other unicorns. For this reason, she spends much of her time working alone, and attempting to better control her power. So far, she can only do basic spells without them backfiring catastrophically.

One day, during a lecture in class, Midnight attempts to follow along with the spells being performed. At first, she seems to have some modicum of control, until her anxiety gets the better of her as multiple other students begin to whisper and place bets on how spectacularly she will fail this time. She loses control, resulting in a spell similar to Starlight’s, where she begins to unnaturally steal the cutie marks around her. Anyone caught within a short distance of Midnight begins to lose their cutie marks, and thus, their magic. It isn’t until a nearby Pegasus manages to fly his way in that she is rescued.

Though he is clumsy, he offers no real backstory as to how and why he was there, nor does he seem to remember a lot of things in his youth. However, he manages to break through Midnight’s spell and calm her down.

STORYTIME END, NOW WE DISCUSS HER CHARACTER!!!!

I knew I wanted at least one of the mane six to be a descendant or the original characters (not ALL of them, though.) At first I genuinely considered Twilight, since a magical descendant would be perfect to fulfill this role. But it didn’t make a lot of sense for me. Plus, I wanted this character to have no relation to Twilight, as she’s had her time as the protagonist. Now it’s time for the new one! And we all loved Starlight’s inclusion in the story, despite how little of her we got. Starlight is one of my favorite ponies.. so it makes sense that I’d include her! Plus, it could be a cute idea that Starlight’s descendant doesn’t have as good control over her magic as Starlight used to, leaving Midnight with some pretty big horseshoes to fill.

Her cutie mark is an aurora borealis with a large, four-pointed star. I chose this because I thought it looked good, and complimented her name. I also wanted something similar to, but not exactly like Starlight Glimmer’s cutie mark, to showcase that they are related, despite the massive time jump between them. Star cutie marks often hold relation to excellent magic users in the show, so I thought this would fit.

Family time!!

Midnight Aurora is the daughter of Glitter Star (female, unicorn) and Frost Moon (male, pegasus.) Glimmer Star is remembered as a kind soul, with the ability to project images of the stars using her horn. She held no real interest in magic, and worked as a stargazer until her untimely death. Frost Moon was a legend amongst many pegasi. He worked alongside the weather crew in Cloudsdale before meeting Glitter, and is well known for clearing a winter sky single-HOOF-edly (hehe) during a winter wrap-up. He still works as the weather crew now, and Midnight refuses to speak to him. This is because shortly after Glitter’s death, Frost Moon found another Pegasus that he fell in love with. Midnight was angered by this, especially when the two bore a child. (Midnight was still fairly young when this happened, probably her teen years.) So as soon as she was able, she moved out and refused to speak to Frost Moon ever again.

Frost Moon deeply misses his daughter, but has not approached her. He believes it best to let Midnight figure things out for herself. He also doesn’t wish to neglect his new family in the process. We’ll go over him more, later.

PERSONALITTTYYY

Midnight Aurora is a very persistent and stubborn unicorn. Despite not being very studious or good at controlling her magic, she refuses to give up. She wants to succeed and prove that she is an excellent magic wielder. She loves to stargaze, as it reminds her of her mother before her passing. Her favorite food is zap apple jam, and she will put that on absolutely ANYTHING!!! Even if it looks or sounds nasty. She appears very antisocial, but if she were ever to talk to somepony who shared her interests, she would hold very lively conversations.

[hell-much]

How about a sneak peak for that yet-to-be-named sequel?

.

Sansa closes the door softly to the sound of soft snoring in her back. Her feet are cold against the wooden boards as she rushes through the dark corridor. The boards creak a few times as she moves along. It sounds excruciatingly loud, but she knows that is only in her ears.

She slips into her clogs at the bottom at the stairs where she can be sure she is out of earshot to a sleeping family. In passing she takes the phone of the sideboard and clamps the cable in the kitchen as she closes it behind herself. Opening the window she breathes in the fresh morning air.

It's still dark outside. The nights are starting to get longer, bright early summer mornings slowly mend into the gloomier days of autumn. Another few weeks and the hours of night will outweigh those of daylight.

Sansa doesn't mind. This year less than ever before.

She fishes a cigarette from the pack and blows a first puff into the cool morning air, while her other hand turns the dial blindly. The dial tone only sounds once. Sansa smiles already before she has uttered a single word, soft fluttery excitement fills her chest.

A sleepy smile sounds in Margaery's voice when she bids her good morning and makes Sansa smile brighter in turn. She wonders if that will ever get old, if there will come a day when she will ever not feel that rush of happiness over hearing Margaery's voice first thing in the morning. She can't imagine it ever passing.

“Did you sleep well?” Sansa asks in a soft exhale, like something could have changed in the six and a half hours since they last spoke.

“Very well.” Margaery's answer comes accompanied by rustling of sheets. She's still in bed. It has been weeks since she got to wake up next to her, she never got to wake up next to her in her place, and yet Sansa can see her vividly. Hair wild. Eyes heavy and nearly closed. Sheets crumbled around her. “And you?”

“Fine.”

“You sound tired.”

Sansa smiles around the cigarette. She can always tell, just by the sound of her voice. “Maybe a little.”

"Finished the skirt?”

“Almost. Provided Alis will like it.”

“I'm sure she will. With a hemline that inappropriate.”

With her head resting against the peeling paint of the window frame, Sansa glances out at a sky that is slowly turning brighter. “You know, I dreamt about you last night.”

“You did?”

“I did.”

“What kind of dream?”

“We were in bed together.”

A small laugh sounds from Margaery. “Were we now?”

“Not like that. We weren't doing anything.”

There's some more rustling, the faint squeaking of springs, like she is sitting up or turning in bed, then her voice again, smooth, a little husky from sleep still, “That really doesn't sound like us.”

“We were waking up together and cuddling.” Her fingers drift along her collar like that of dream-Margaery. “You said I looked cute in my nightgown.”

“I bet you do look most adorable.”

She's never seen her in her nightgown. The two mornings, the only mornings they woke up next to each other, neither of them was wearing anything. In the month since, there hasn't been an opportunity for lazy mornings in bed. These early morning phone calls are a weak substitute.

Sansa grants herself another deep drag. With the menthol taste and smell enwrapping her it always feels a little, like she is with Margaery in that second. “I do,” she says in exhaling a puff of smoke into the dark of the morning. “If you want, I can leave it on beneath my dress when I come by later.”

Margaery sounds entirely amused by the prospect. “How daring.”

“I thought you would appreciate another layer to peel me out of.”

“I prefer you without any layers, my darling.”

“I know you do.” Sansa smiles as she snips some ash out the window. “I can't wait to see you later.”

That isn't an exaggeration. They only saw each other yesterday. They see each other every day. They talk on the phone every morning and every night. And yet it never feels like enough. It's almost like an addiction. More so. It's a physical need, like hunger, thirst, like the need to breath, where if she stopped for just a moment longer than necessary it would cause her physical harm.

[lexa-griffins]

Meet cute clexa. Clarke and Lexa are both single moms who take their kids to the aquarium. Their kids meet each other at the tide pool exhibit and become friends. This leads to them hanging out with each other for the rest of the day at the aquarium which also leads to Clarke and Lexa spending time together. They exchange numbers at the end to setup another playdate and maybe an adult date too

Okay, okay, im kind of mashing both together where they end up technically having a first date at the aquarium.

Lexa just really enjoys fun educational trivia. She reads all the guides and helps her six year old read out the info on the side of the tide pool. And there's this little boy right next to her daughter, about her age too, attentively listening to what Lexa is saying and then nodding and whispering it to who Lexa assumes is his mom. At some point, her daughter seems to make friends with him, and they go around the tide pool, pointing and whispering about what they learned about each star fish and barnacle they can see.

Its sweet to see them making friends so fast. Within a few minutes they've exchanged names and are calling out to one another to show off the new creature they found. Lexa stands slightly to the side, letting her little girl lead the exploration, always the little leader as the blonde little boy follows her and nods with amazement.

"They got along fast hm?"

Lexa is slightly startled by the voice next to her but quickly she ginds herself staring at beautiful blue eyes and the friendly smile of a woman whose hair is the exact same shade of Madi's new best friend.

"I'm Clarke, Aden's mom!" She extends a hand in gretting. Lexa takes it.

"Lexa. That's Madi. And yeah, they're already best friends, it seems." Lexa chuckles, pointing at the two little kids, already holding hands so they wont lose one another.

"Im glad. Aden is very shy sometimes, its always nice to see him making friends."

"Thats great! Madi is always making friends whenever she goes."

"Oh good, a little social butterfly!"

"Oh yeah!"

An awkward silence of two adult strangers sets in while their kids talk as if they have known one another from birth. Lexa takes a quick look at her watch.

"Well, we should get moving, she was dying to see the penguin feeding and its nearly time." Lexa comments, hoping to get away from the awkward silence next to a pretty woman. She was never great at those.

"Oh yeah! I bet Aden would love to watch that too! Hey maybe we can walk together, as the kiddos seems to not wanna let go of one another" Clarke seems to find no issue in the awkwardness, as she suggests they propongue it for the sake of their kids.

With an awkward smile, Lexa agrees. The kids have a wonderful time talking and laughing with one another as they walk to the next exhibit, both faces glued to the glasses to see the fishes inside. Lexa and Clarke walk behind them exchanging quick words but never really having a conversation, no matter how much Clarke tries to initiate one. She never had troubles with a gorgeous girl before but damn, isnt Lexa making her doubt her herself.

"Is she starting first grade too?"

"Mmhum. In Polis Elementary."

Clarke grabs Lexa's arm so fast that Lexa nearly loses her balance. "No way! Aden is starting there, too!" The excitement is evident in the woman's face as she stares at Lexa and Lexa has to admit the motherly excitement is contagious. Although she does not have much fear about Madi's capabilities of making friends, she can see why Clarke would be excited for Aden to have a friend in her daughter already. She's so different from Lexa in that regard, she is nearly allergic to new people, which makes the /single/ side of her single parenthood very, very pronounced.

"Oh I bet they'll be so excited about that!"

They reach the penguin exhibit rather quickly. Both kids squeal when they see the animals waddling and swimming around, and both mothers smile at one another at their excitement. Lexa shares a few more facts about penguins marveling both the kids and Clarke herself, who may ask more follow up questions than the children. Aden even follows her lead and asks Lexa a few questions, albeilt a little shyly and with some persuasion from Clarke, ones she answers with a smile at the little boy's courage.

They continue their visit together because there is no separating those two now, both kids showing very little interest in their moms unless its to show them something or to pose for a picture Lexa insists on taking.

It is no long before Lexa and Clarke actually start talking. Their both single they quickly find out, and live in the same neighborhood it seems, Lexa having moved in just a couple months ago and despite Madi's quickness in making friends with the neighborhood kids, Lexa barely knows the name of her next door neighbors. Clarke laughs at the differences between Madi and her mother, which Lexa promises she takes after her other mother eho was perhaps a little too friendly with their past neighbors, so much so she ended up cheating on her and taking off from their lives.

"That bitch!" Clarke snarks once Lexa tells her in a half joking tone. Lexa slaps her on her stomach at her loud remark in the middle of a room full of kids "Sorry. But what a bitch!"

"Yeah. A real bitch. Barely pays child support too. Not that I need her, but Madi does you know? Its hsrd when they just up and leave you with a kid." Lexa comments bitterly. Madi still asks about Costia from time to time, less now but it still hurts to see her little girl long for her momma.

"It does." Clarke replies more quietly.

"I'm sorry, I didnt mean to bring out any bad memories about your ex..." Lexa quickly interjects awkwardly.

"No, no. I don't really have an ex like that. Aden is mot even mine technically."

Lexa stares at her in surprise. The little biy is a carbon copy of Clarke, it seems almost impossible to think they aren't related, "is he adopted or...?"

"He's my nephew. My little brother's kid. He made some shitty decisions on his last year of high school and knocked up a girl, but he was trying to straighen up. He loved Aden. A lot. But he also had an addiction problem and despite working to get an apartment and give Aden a better life, he and his girlfriend ended up OD'ing with Aden in his crib. He was a good kid, he loved his son so much and he made me promise I'd take care of him if anything ever happened. So I got custody of him. Sometimes I'm scared I'll fuck him up and let my brother down."

Lexa is silent for a while. They are sat by the big tank, the kids sat by the glaas enchanted as they watch the fish above them. Lexa and Clarke are standing against the wall, luckily more isolated from the rest of the parents around them.

Lexa is not good at comforting grown ups. With Madi she can hold her and kiss her, she's her daughter and she knows what she needs. But adults are much different. So all Lexa does and hold Clarke hand and brush her finger over her top of her hand. "I think you're doing a wonderful job with him."

Clarke looks up at her slowly and then. She smiles. Big.

"Thank you Lexa"

And suddenly Lexa's heart is beating faster, her cheeks growing red, luckily unnoticed by the low blue light of the room, and she feels like she's on a first date and finally got the courage to hold her dates hand. A part of her tells her to lean in and kiss Clarke and in the intimacy of the moment she nearly does.

"MOMMY! LOOK AT THE SHARK!!!" Madi's voice echoes through the room.

"Mama! Its the shark look!!" Clarke hears as Aden pulls at her shirt.

Clarke and Lexa smile at each other and gollow their kids to see the magnificent shark as it swims oh so close to the glass.

The rest of the visit is much more relaxed and passes by fast as they talk like old friends, the kids always pulling them along, happily to chat amongst themselves with the odd intervention from Lexa as she shares yet another fun fact that makes Clarke's eyes twinkle as she listens.

They leave the gifshop together, Clarke holding far too many shark themed items as Aden plays with his new shark plushies while Lexa manages only a bag with only one big sting ray plushie, a shirt and plenty stationary supplies for Madi to use in the new school year.

"I think I over did it" Clarke comments as she tries to hold the second, smaller shark toy underneath her arms, "its hard to tell him no."

Lexa chuckles, "You're doing great. Although maybe the overpriced shark themed markers weren't needed."

"They have shark names!" Clarke exclaims and Lexa laughs once more. If she catches the way Clarke stares at her in amazement she ignores it.

They exchange numbers and promises of a playdate as the kids nearly cry at not wanting to be separated, only lerting go of each others hand when their moms share that they'll be classmates and neighbors and that they'll be sure to set up something together soon. With a wink and a flirty smile, Clarke comments on them setting up their own little playdate just the two of them, chuckling when Lexa turns red at the suggestion and ealkimg away with an enthusiastic "Bye you two!"

Lexa watches her walk away with stupid smile of her face.

"Mommy?"

"Yeah baby?"

"I like Aden. And Aden's mom! Dont you?"

Lexa smiles at her daughter, "I do."

Madi nods, with a cheeky smile "I think Aden's mom likes you too."

[whereistheonepiece]

Ah, man... Sorry for your loss. My dog passed away two years ago.

I'd like to tell the story of how I got her: I was 10 when the neighbors dog went missing (she did that sometimes, jumped over the fence and I'd take my bike and go look for her together with my neighbor). We didn't find her, but she came back after three days. Shiva was a Labrador and from the cubs she had, we did an IQ 200 and guessed that she'd fancied the Golden Retriever from a few blocks away (real cutie pie).

It was a litter of 12 (a lot!!!) and 9 survived. I knew them since they were six hours old (my neighbor called me over in the morning before school) and watched them grow up. I often played with them after school.

When it was time to 'select' mine, I entered the box like always. They had gotten coloured tags that day, so in my mind, they were suddenly individuals rather than a giant horde of cuteness. Of the 9 pups, 8 came to greet me and 1 stayed in the corner, watching me and wagging her tail. For me it was like she was telling me 'We both know you'll choose me', (in retrospect, she was a shy dog and just didn't like engaging head-on before assessing the situation).

She was a menace sometimes, but also very sweet most other times. I'd sit on the floor with her every day, pet her and tell her about my day.

She liked swimming in the river, but hated getting a shower. When she got older she buried herself cooking spots between flower bushes in our garden. Her favorite spots were under the stairs (cool), under the terrace (also cool, but with the chance of food falling down) or at the neighbors fence (different neighbor, but they fed her snacks sometimes).

I love her more than anything and she showed me how beautiful and interesting the world can be. I'll always be grateful for that.

PS: I named her Ginger (after the spice)

PPS: I can send you a picture of her, if you want :)

Thank you for responding to my request, that was very kind of you. 💜

Ginger sounds sweet! And my god, I've never heard of a litter of 12 before!

I can definitely relate to "menace sometimes, sweet most other times." My cat Star, whom I lost a few days ago, could be a real jerk when she wanted to be, but she was overall a sweet, gentle kitty.

We only have our pets for such a small portion of our lives, but they leave such a mark on us.

And of course I'd love to see a picture of Ginger. I bet she was a beauty.