#my dad: ''anyways do you two want to visit for thanksgiving?''

[caterjunes]

i had like. the most insane conversation with my family earlier this evening and i truly am not able to process it. my dad recently joined the board of the local community theatre after having been involved in shows there for the last ~15 years. so he knows all the frequent cast members & goes to plays there regularly. which is great don't get me wrong.

but like. he was talking about the show they just finished (which he wasn't in) and was just so casually like "yeah for the first performance they had one person out sick with covid. and wouldn't you know it the next day they had five cast members out with covid. and then the lead got sick - with stomach flu! not covid!" (disregarding, of course, that covid frequently manifests as GI disturbances and the reliability of rapid tests are a crapshoot.) "- so they had another cast member learn the part basically overnight and he did a great job the next day. then when your mom and i went out for dinner that sunday we ran into them having a cast party on the restaurant patio so i stopped by and said hi."

and i'm just like. do you fucking HEAR YOURSELF???? this isn't a heartwarming story of the local community theatre having a The Show Must Go On moment, it's every single performance of this show being a mini-superspreader event and nobody batting an eye! and then everybody goes out to dinner afterwards! at least they had the conscience to eat outside but jesus fucking christ. the like. complete nonchalance of your attitude is horrific!

[chrisevansonly]

𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚 | 𝒐𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒑𝒊𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊

☁︎ oscar piastri x female reader

☁︎ oscar is experiencing thanksgiving with your family for the first time….and boy is it crazy

☁︎ no warnings just fluff and maybe a tad overwhelmed oscar lol

☁︎ i can’t believe october is starting to come to an end, these little fall fics have been making me so happy, i think ill do another one in december too to get ready for christmas 🤭 p.s thanksgiving in canada is beginning of october in contrast to the USA which is end of november in case you’re confused :)

Thanksgiving was a little chaotic in your family, when everyone gathered together and all sat down for the annual fall meal, only this year it was your boyfriend Oscar’s first time attending it with you. He knew you got your vibrant and extroverted personality from your parents, but now that he looks back on it, he’s pretty sure your entire family played a part in it.

“Oscar when do you and my little sunshine plan on having children hmm?” your grandma asked, causing you to choke on your water

“Nana!”

Oscar laughed patting your back gently to help with your coughing

“I think whenever the time is right, we’re in no rush”

“Well you’re only getting older!”

You shook your head at the old woman’s antics your mother stepping in before you

“Mom, leave these two alone, they’re both still in their early twenties, no babies for them, eat your turkey”

“Never too early to have a baby, such nonsense!”

Leaning over to Oscar you looked at him apologetically

“I’m sorry, she’s very persistent”

He only smiled, kissing your forehead as he squeezed your knee under the table

“I don’t mind at all, it’ll happen someday anyway”

The two of you may have been young but you both knew that you were endgame for each other, there was no one else on earth more perfect for either of you, and everyone was starting to see that.

“So Oscar, i’ve been watching your season, looks pretty good this year”

It was your father’s time to chime in, Oscar nodding as he gave your father 100% of his attention.

“Yes, it’s been going really well, the car feels good this year, so i’m looking forward to finishing the next few races and then having some time off” he replied, a bit hesitantly as he always did with your dad

“That’s good to hear, I’d love to come see a race sometime”

You smiled

“You should come to Las Vegas with us dad! You and mom have been wanting to go back there so why not?”

In hindsight you should have asked Oscar first if he was okay with this, but knowing him, he wouldn’t mind at all. He loved spending time with your family as much as you did with his.

“Oh that’s a great idea honey, i’m sure we can figure something out!”

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch, calm conversation and laughter shared between everyone, you could already feel the classic thanksgiving hangover hitting you as you lounged on the couch tucked into Oscar’s side, your eyes heavy and tired.

“NO YOU JUST SLAPPED ME WITH ANOTHER PICK UP UP 4 IM GONNA KILL YOU!!!”

Oscar laughed hearing your little cousins playing uno in the other room as you rolled your eyes. If anyone was the loudest on these holidays it was the kiddos.

“YEAH WELL YOU JUST SUCK AT THE GAME THEN!”

It wasn’t long before your aunt went in there and told them off, quiet chatter resuming after the mini scream fest over the classical card game had ensued. Truth be told you were nervous for Oscar to experience thanksgiving with your family because you weren’t always put together and fancy, you were loud and energetic, your family loved playing games, having treasure hunts and playing games of charades.

You knew deep down it wouldn’t everyone’s cup of tea but Oscar wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d never felt more comfortable and at home like he did with you when you visited your family. It made him feel normal and accepted, he didn’t have to worry about the media, the race track or the constant murmurs going around the paddock.

“How was your first thanksgiving experience love?”

He smiled down at you, his finger tips running up and down your back

“I loved it, really it was so much, I can’t wait to keep experiencing this craziness with you”

“Oscar loves the thanksgiving craziness…never thought i’d say that”

The Aussie laughed leaning down to kiss you

“Well now I get to experience a different craziness from yours everyday”

“Hey!”

You frowned jokingly but he was quick to once again bring his lips to yours, deepening the kiss enough to have your face flush, thankfully your family too enamoured in their own activities to notice your little display of affection.

“I love you and all your craziness darling, it’s what makes you, you.” he stated softly, taking his time to admire you

“I love you more.”

Oscar had all he needed right in front of him, he’d never felt more welcomed and appreciated than he did right now, curled up on the couch at your parents house after a delicious dinner, something he would continue to be apart of for years…and years to come.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Rediscovered | CBF! 09’ Ghost x/& Reader

Day 26: Reconnecting w/ 09’ Simon “Ghost” Riley

Summary: After meeting in elementary school, you and Simon hit it off, becoming best friends before miscommunications leads you two to lose contact for years, before meeting again at an airport.

Word Count: ~ 1.9k

Warnings: allusions to an abusive dad (simon’s), period blood, partial nudity?? (not sexual at all), mentions of family death

A/N: ok I actually really like this one, it can be read as either platonic or romantic, and I might expand on it later when I’m not so flooded (I have 9000 wips😭), hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

It had all started one morning, in an old public school. The first day of 2nd grade.

You’d sat down near the middle, not wanting the attention of being in the front or back, preferring to be farthest from the teacher. He’d sat down in the back, on the desk behind you.

The teacher, an older woman with frizzy, short hair and thick bangs, had passed out pieces of paper with little plastic bowls of macaroni and instructed each of you to take out your glue bottle and stick the macaroni pieces down to make the shape of an apple. He hadn’t brought anything to class, mumbling something about ‘forgetting’ his backpack before thanking you when you decided to share.

You remembered seeing the splotchy bruises on his skin, on his too-skinny knees, and wondering where they were from. His blonde, greasy hair, almost looked brown. He had blonde eyelashes, that was what you remembered the most.

You’d knocked your bowl of macaroni off your desk, and everyone had turned their heads to you, the chatting of other children stopping as some giggled. He watched as your ears turned red from embarrassment, and you got up, kneeling on the floor to pick up each and every piece, one by one. He’d gotten up too, deciding that he would make whatever was between you two even by helping.

“I’m (Y/N),”

You’d murmured, offering a little strained, nervous smile. He’d glanced up at you, and nodded, swallowing as his Adam’s Apple bobbed.

“Simon.”

He whispered back. You had smiled a bit at that, and he’d assumed you were just mentally laughing at him, until you’d whispered something to him about having an old dog named Simon, one of those crusty white mutts that would bark at everything, could barely see, and would hump everyone’s legs.

He’d snorted at that.

The other kids had moved their focus back onto their crafts by then, and you’d written your address on the back of an index card, passing it to him, whispering for him to come visit on Saturday afternoon, that he could play games with you and your neighborhood friends.

He’d come and gotten to know all of them. Some of the only childhood friends he’d had, considering the people who lived in his neighborhood didn’t have any kids, or not good ones to hang around with unless you were looking to get addicted to something, anyway.

He’d finally met your parents, being welcomed in, your mother taking some of his torn jeans and pants to stitch up for him, giving him food to take home, your father helping with homework after school, teaching him how to fix things, helping teach him woodwork and how a man should act, caring for his family, how to be respectful to women. He started getting invited to Thanksgiving, essentially staying at your house every day after school to escape his actual dad waiting at home.

He’d been there when you’d first gotten your period, waking up to your hushed panicked whispers to yourself, walking over only to cover his eyes as he tried to erase the sight of your pants and underwear, both stained with blood, pulled down. You held a tampon in one hand and squealed as you saw him.

“Hey, it’s just me—“

“Oh god, Simon, I don’t know what to do—my mom only uses tampons and I don’t want that inside of me-!”

“Just..uh…shove toilet paper in your underwear.”

“No! I need pads, shit-shit-shit, we don’t have any…”

He’d seen the tears welling in your eyes as he peeked out from his hands, keeping his eyes strictly on your face. He knew what he had to do, even as his cheeks turned bright red.

“I could, I dunno, go buy some? There’s that little shop like five minutes away?”

“Oh, thank god, there’s twenty bucks under my plant on my dresser, you can use that. Thank you, Si.”

He’d run to the little shop, bought the pads using the twenty bucks, despite the weird looks the cashier and men in the store had given him, and run straight back, handing you the pad and reading the instructions from the back of the box to try and help you figure it out together with him.

He’d been there for your first boyfriend, some guy with no real personality outside of being tall and good at basketball, but you’d both broken up abruptly because he’d simply gotten bored of you. He’d comforted you then, and you’d comforted him after his first girlfriend cheated on him.

High school had come. He survived the first two years only because you helped him through it, basically tutoring him through all of Geometry and the advanced classes he somehow tested into, and he’d taken you to all the fast food restaurants you’d craved in the middle of the night in exchange. He dropped out Junior year, and because of being held back for ‘disruptive behavior’ in his elementary school, he was already 18.

He didn’t know how to drop the bombshell that he was going to the military, having already applied, and been accepted, he was expected to report in only a day.

So he wrote a letter, saying everything about how he would miss you, and that he’d bring you home all sorts of trinkets, and that you’d both be best friends forever, even when he went into the military and escaped his father for good. He’d thanked you for everything, saying he’d see you again soon, and he’d visit again as soon as possible.

Except that, between all the missions, a few injuries that hospitalized him, and then the training he had to undergo to be put back in his Task Force, and everything he witnessed, it was a couple of years until he finally went back.

But when he did go back, getting off of the flight, speeding the entire way to your house, hopping out, he knocked on the door, newly painted with the yard trimmed nearly, a few different decorations and flowers in place now, it was a stranger who opened the door. A stranger said that he didn’t know who Simon was looking for and that he’d owned this house for a good four years now.

Simon had assumed you’d moved on. Gone on for better things than him. Little did he know, his father had found the letter in the mailbox, mailed to go to your house, since Simon knew you might find it too soon if he put it right in your mailbox, and his father had opened it, and promptly thrown it in their fireplace, watching it burn to ash.

You didn’t know where your best friend had gone. He’d just…disappeared with no word, and after all of his family tragically died a year or two after, you’d gone to the funerals, and not seen a trace of him. Here you were now, standing and waiting for your flight back home from visiting some family that lived far away, messy bun holding your greasy hair up, eye bags prevalent as you hadn’t cared to put on makeup, wearing the most atrocious but comfortable outfit possible, and you saw it.

A pair of blue eyes that looked all too familiar.

He was with three other men, one looking old enough to be your father, with a gruff beard and weathered demeanor, another with a Mohawk, wearing a small grin as he nodded at something, the other silent and listening with a smile, and him.

He was wearing a cloth mask, the sort that had been mandated throughout countries not too long ago. It had a skull pattern, one you recognized from the countless nights his older brother, Tommy, had worn a skull mask and scared the wits out of both you and Simon. You still remembered his shrilly squeals of terror as he booked it, running for the hills.

“Simon?”

His head snapped in your direction so fast you thought he might have a whiplash injury. They all paused, a bit of surprise, and a hint of suspicion and mistrust in their expressions as they watched him yank his mask off, face one of shock, before he ran over to you.

You laughed in pure sleep-deprived shock, embracing him in a hug as he gave you a fat kiss on the cheek, he sighed.

“Thought I’d never see you again. By the time I went back, you were already gone. Guess you read the letter, huh?”

He felt a bit of embarrassment bubbling up at the memory of his teenage self crying while writing that letter, all of his angsty little thoughts spilling out into what he thought might be a final goodbye.

“What letter?”

You both looked up at each other confused, and it was his turn to laugh in disbelief.

“I, uh, made a letter. Tellin’ you I was going off to the military, that I’d be back. I thought I mailed it to you, must’ve forgotten through the nerves.”

The other men finally began approaching. They’d never seen their Ghost look so nervous before, going back to stuttering, rubbing the back of his neck, grinning nervously while looking at the floor.

“Ghost? Who’s this?”

The gruff man asked. You raised a brow.

“Ghost? Seriously?”

Simon huffed elbowing you in the side, watching you wince slightly. He forgot how strong he was, sometimes. Maybe it was because he was always surrounded by people who were just as large as he was, that he wasn’t used to being around civilians anymore.

“Ah, this is Captain MacTavish and Captain Price—“

“Christ’s sake, we’re off base, just tell the lass our names.”

He saw the way your grin widened at his Captain’s Scottish accent, meeting his gaze with a look of wonder.

“Right, John Price, John MacTavish, and that’s Gary.”

“What’s Gary’s special name?”

You watched as Simon’s lips twitched up a moment, before responding.

“Roach.”

You busted out laughing, and soon enough the older men were joining in too, while poor Gary just cringed and turned redder by the second.

“Gonna introduce me, Si?”

You finally asked once the laughing fit was over, and he nodded, throat suddenly drying up as he realized he didn’t know a proper title for you. Friend? Were you two even more than acquaintances after all these years? His brain seemed to decide for him, as he spoke.

“This is my best friend, (Y/N).”

The men raised brows at that, but Price only chuckled, jerking his head to the airport’s hallway.

“This has been a lovely reunion, but we need to find a place to sleep, best friend or not.”

He’d said, giving a smile that felt a bit passive-aggressive to Simon, considering how he was tired, hungry, and just wanted to rent a hotel room for the night already, and the words had tumbled out of your mouth before you’d thought it through.

“You could just stay with me. We’ve got plenty of catching up to do, anyway.”

You’d said, giving a pointed glance at Simon, who’d smirked ever so slightly.

“How about it, lads?”

MacTavish had asked, and after a collective nod from everyone, he sealed your fate with a simple sentence.

“Lead the way, then.”

You weren’t sure what you’d gotten yourself into.

[izaack-gauss]

𝐀 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧

< TW: ED >

Made by my friend @eightisviii, this was an art trade and I just really wanted to share this. I love this story so much. :)

𝐋. A Father's Concern

Izaack dreaded the day would come when he would meet his dad again. Ever since that fateful day when he signed a contract to Nuke News and got into the screens at last, it hasn't been great. Izaack felt like everyone's eyes were on him; and they were, both literally and figuratively.

Chub wasn't something the entertainment industry wanted and even a little love handle felt like it would lose him his image. So instead, he settled for eating less.

Days turned into weeks and into months until Thanksgiving. Alas, Izaack did promise he would visit his dad during holidays, plus the D.D.D. had recorded this as one of his routine. If he didn't go out there, his dad will surely go inside his apartment himself in full hazmat suit and all and drag him out.

He stood in front of the standing mirror, put on a casual blue tee shirt with a white collar and fitted himself into black skinny pants. Once done, he pulled his collar and jutted it out, flashing a toothy smile at himself. But he knew it wasn't enough.

He sighed and hoped his dad wouldn't notice if he only took a bite or two of a turkey leg for this one, maybe none at all. Argo would like meat more than me anyways, he thought and grabbed his keys before heading out.

His destination: Isaac's house.

-—-—-—-

"Son, you haven't touched the turkey at all." Isaac said, looking sternly at his son.

"Ah, this? It's only polite I wait for you to eat as well, dad." Izaack said, but even as Isaac began to chew on his drumstick, Izaack only stared at his drumstick and played around with his fork.

Isaac's brows furrowed despite his calm demeanor and he swallowed his food before he sighed. He wiped the sauce that got in the corner of his mouth and firmly placed his hands on both sides of his plate.

"Son."

Izaack was snapped out of his reverie and he looked up to see Isaac crossing his arms and looking down at him, his lips pursed into a thin line. He sighed; hoping his dad wouldn't notice was wishful thinking after all.

"Son, what's going on with you?" Isaac asked, concerned. "You loved turkey and you wouldn't pass your old man's cooking, would you?"

"Never in a million years, dad!" Izaack said, but then, his eyes drifted back towards the turkey leg on his plate and his mind reeled, reluctant.

"Actions say more than words, Izaack," Isaac shook his head. "Just what is going on with you? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I know, it's just... It's a reporter's thing," Izaack mumbled.

"I didn't get that."

Izaack flinched, "Dad, you know I love my job..."

"And what does it have to do with a thanksgiving turkey?"

"A lot! The media is watching all the time, they're recording, they're laughing. Pointing and laughing. They'll call me fat, I'll lose my job, I'll—"

"Whoa there, son," Isaac's eyes widened and he reached for his son's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You won't get fat over a drumstick, besides, you're a great reporter. They're the ones who have more to lose than you."

Izaack breathed in and out, trying to calm himself down. "I-I guess you're right, dad... I just.." He sighed and averted his eyes. "I still can't..."

"I'll let you come to your own terms," Isaac smiled at him and patted his hand before pulling away. "Still, it worries me. As your dad, you know I care about you."

"I know, dad."

"And even if you get fired for such a silly reason, I'm always here. Me and that lanky businessman you sure love to bring home."

Izaack groaned at his dad waggling his brows. "Dad!" His face heated up, unable to believe him.

"I'm surprised you didn't bring him to Thanksgiving. Kinda douchy, don't ya' think?"

Izaack rolled his eyes. "We're meeting up later for the later festivities. And what about Joel, hmm?"

"Joel?! He's..." Isaac coughed out a choking sound. "Just a co-worker, nothing more."

"Sure..." Izaack smiled.

Isaac smiled back. "Well, if you aren't going to eat that, might as well give it to Argo. Poor boy's been on a dog food diet for days."

"Oh yes, feeding a dog food that is for a dog. What a nightmare." Izaack joked and laughed heartily. "...I love ya', dad."

Isaac chuckled, "Love ya' too, Iza."

[numinousmysteries]

A Miracle, Perhaps

@eightnightsofmulder

@today-in-fic

Eight Nights of Mulder Day Five: Miracles

[on Ao3]

November 1994

Hanukkah falls early this year, beginning the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Mulder hasn’t mentioned anything about going to visit his mom so Scully isn’t surprised to see him in the office on Monday morning.

“How was your Thanksgiving?” he asks as she turns to hang her coat up.

“Fine,” she says, not wanting to elaborate.

In truth, it had been an awkward affair. She hadn’t realized how much her family’s congenial rapport depended on everyone being on their best behavior for her father. Without the captain to steer them, tensions flared. Thinking he’d be free of Bill Scully Sr.’s judgment, Charlie made his first appearance at his mother’s table in years with his long-term boyfriend Harry, only to face Bill Jr.’s wrath. This led to a very drunk Melissa “accidentally” knocking a full glass of red wine onto Bill’s shirt as she gestured wildly in her little brother’s defense. Once Charlie stormed off with Harry trailing behind him (apologizing to Maggie and thanking her for the food as quickly and quietly as he could) Bill turned his anger on Dana. He argued that by staying with the FBI even after her abduction she was only asking to get killed.

It all ended with Maggie retreating to her bedroom to cry, Melissa vomiting in the bathroom, Bill cursing into his whiskey at the table, and Dana silently washing dishes in the kitchen.

“Did you spend the holiday with your family?” she asks, coming to sit across from him at his desk.

Mulder shakes his head. “Nope. Frohike made his famous chicken wings, which is close enough to turkey for me.”

“What about Hanukkah? You celebrated with your mother last year,” she says, hesitating as she eases into new territory.

Two years into their partnership and they still do this awkward dance around each other when it comes to anything remotely personal. She’s more than partly to blame herself since she doesn’t willingly share much about her own life.

“‘Celebrate’ is a generous word,” Mulder says. “We didn’t exactly light the menorah and spin a dreidel around. My mom started taking her sleeping pills earlier and earlier each day until she was basically conking out after lunch. I don’t think she really likes having me around.”

“That can’t be true.”

Mulder shrugs. “I think I just remind her of Samantha. Or rather Samantha’s absence.”

“What about your father?” Scully says, trying to change the subject.

“It’s funny,” he says. “My dad’s family was Jewish and my mother only converted before they got married, but as long as I can remember he never wanted anything to do with religion. Besides, Hanukkah isn’t even a very significant holiday. It just happens to fall around Christmas so it’s gotten swept up in that all-American, gift-giving, capitalist fervor.”

“What’s the story again?” She’s familiar with the basics of the holiday but she knows Mulder likes weaving a tale for her, and she likes to listen as he does.

“Well, it all started with the rise of the Greek king Antiochus the fourth in the second century BCE. The Greeks had a mostly live-and-let-live attitude toward the Jews until then, but Antiochus wasn’t a big fan. He forbade Jews from practicing their religion and demanded they worship Greek gods instead. This all came to a head when Antiochus invaded Jerusalem, killing thousands of Jews and turning the Holy Temple into a shrine to Zeus. He also forced Jewish people to eat pork, which was strictly forbidden by the Torah, but now that I mention it, oddly puts me in the mood for bacon.”

Scully smiles but shakes her head at him.

“Anyway, a small group of Jews known as the Maccabees formed an army and managed to overpower the much larger Greek forces. They retook the temple and got rid of all the Greek idols but ran into a little problem when they went to rededicate it by lighting the menorah with pure olive oil. Because the Maccabees were soldiers returning from the battlefield, they themselves couldn’t produce pure oil until waiting seven days after having handled dead bodies. All the oil in the temple had been defiled by the Greeks except for one jug that supposedly only had enough to last for one night. But of course, as the legend goes, it ended up keeping the menorah lit for eight days, just in time for the Maccabees to start churning out their own oil. Since this all went down after the Torah was written, the only biblical allusion to the Hanukkah is actually in the New Testament when Jesus visits Jerusalem to observe the holiday—”

“—in the book of John,” Scully finishes his sentence.

“Someone paid attention in Sunday school,” he says, and she fights the feeling of a blush rising to her cheeks.

“Are you surprised?” she asks with a smile.

“Not at all,” he says, returning her grin. “Of course, some scholars consider the Maccabees to be religious fundamentalists who even killed fellow Jews they didn’t consider to be hardcore enough. And some versions of the story don’t include any reference to the so-called ‘miracle of oil,’ so who’s to say what really happened?”

“Mulder, you are willing to believe in claims of parasitic alien life forms, shape-shifting mutants, and widespread government conspiracies, but miracles don’t pass muster?” Scully asks, the corners of her lips creeping up into a smile.

He shifts in his chair, leaning forward, closer to her. “I recently witnessed one miracle that I believe in.”

“Which was?”

“Watching you go from the brink of death in that hospital bed a few months ago to sitting here and debating Talmudic wisdom with me right now. If that isn’t a miracle I don’t know what is.”

She instinctively pulls back, bracing her hands on the armrests of her chair. He doesn’t budge, keeping his eyes locked on her.

“Mulder, I can’t clarify what happened to me, why I was returned or why I recovered,” she says quietly, “but when I was unconscious in the hospital, I saw things that I believe can only be explained by the existence of a higher power.”

She hadn’t confessed this to Mulder before and she isn’t sure why. This is a man who believes in werewolves and time-traveling killers. Why is she scared to tell him about her own visions?

“What did you see?” He asks, softly, leaning in towards her.

“I saw my father. I saw my sister—and I saw you,” she says quietly. “But it wasn’t just seeing. I felt your presence.”

Mulder pauses for a beat, opening his lips to speak but not saying anything.

“Scully, I’ve heard about near-death experiences, people believing their seeing through a portal into the afterlife. But in nearly every case they can be explained by low-oxygen levels or misfiring neurons in the brain.”

“No, Mulder,” she says, looking down at her hands now. “I read my medical report. I never suffered from hypoxia or unusual neurological activity. There’s no scientific explanation for what happened.”

“So you think it was God?”

“I don’t know, Mulder,” her voice quavers. “But I can’t say for sure that it wasn’t.”

“Whatever it was, I’m glad you made it through.”

“Thank you,” she says, feeling the heat rising in her chest.

She doesn’t tell him that along with sensing his presence she felt something more—a fierce devotion bordering on love. Maybe he’s right and it was a miracle that brought her back to him. Or perhaps the miracle is whatever brought them together in the first place.

[heavencasteel420]

I probably won't finish the fifth chapter of Tonight, Tonight, the Highway's Bright until Tuesday or so, but in honor of the We Love Jancy Fanfic Event, I'm posting the first bit (Nancy's letter to Jonathan) right here:

Dear Jonathan,

Guess who’s grounded for a week because she disappeared for almost three hours on Thanksgiving Day? That’s right—it’s me! Mom was frantic when I came home, with Dad and all the relatives tiptoeing around her, nibbling on hors d’ouvres. Apparently she’d called Steve (even though he was in Virginia with his grandparents for Thanksgiving) and Tommy (as though I’d spend any time with Tommy on my own) and Carol (which at least makes sense—she was in town and we do hang out a lot, unfortunately). Plus half a dozen other people from school, so everybody’s whispering about how I’ve gone crazy again. I guess I’m lucky, because if I hadn’t broken my hand and screamed at my mom in front of everyone last winter, they’d be gossiping about how I must have been cheating on Steve, or doing drugs in the woods, or going to the Planned Parenthood in Bloomington for a VD test. I’m insane enough that nobody has a problem believing that I’d skip out on Thanksgiving just to smoke cigarettes and listen to The Lexicon of Love in my car by myself.

(Do you like ABC? I bet not. I bet they’re too goofy for you.)

That’s what I told everyone, by the way. I figured you wouldn’t want everyone in your business, even though you don’t live here anymore. I thought about telling Mom, because she always liked you and she’d be glad to hear you were doing all right. She’d probably say something to Dad, though, and he’d let it slip to people at his job. I thought about telling Steve, too, because he’s maybe the only person who seems to think I was acting weird (for me, I mean). He keeps asking why I didn’t just fake sick or go to Carol’s if I needed a break from my family. That’s what he does when things are tense at home, basically: pretend to be too tired from basketball practice and hole up in his bedroom, or visit me or Tommy. Sometimes I worry that he has the idea that I’m cheating, like maybe Billy Hargrove said something to him, but I don’t really think that’s it. He’d be mad at me and Billy, and he’d be hurt, and he’d have every right to feel that way, but he wouldn’t be too scared to ask me if it was true. Because that would be a shitty thing to do—it was shitty to let Billy feel me up that one time—but sometimes normal girls cheat on their boyfriends. He’d know what to do with that—dump me or forgive me or get back at me with some other girl. But I don’t think he even knows what he’s afraid I’m doing.

Speaking of being afraid to ask things, Mom hasn’t said one word about the cobbler. At first I assumed she’d forgotten—there were two pies and cookies and ice cream for the dessert already—but then Dad asked if there were any leftovers of the cobbler on Sunday, and she told him it’d all been eaten up. Maybe it was. It’d be a lot for one person, but probably your roommate ate some of it. What’s he like, anyway? I don’t think I even asked whether you met him through school or work or what. I guess I talk a lot about myself. Did you like the cobbler?

Well, I get out of prison on Saturday. I’m going shopping for winter formal dresses with Carol. I am not looking forward to it. All the girls have been bringing catalogs and magazines to school this week so they can show each other their favorites, but it just makes me sad. Barb and I used to look over Seventeen for hours and talk about what we’d wear to high school dances, when that was still years away. We used to wear matching outfits. Do you remember that? The same styles, but different colors, because I was a brunette and she was a redhead. Like Betsy-Tacy. But you’ve probably never heard of Betsy-Tacy.

Anyway, Carol’s a redhead, too, and she’s mad because pink dresses are so “in” this year. It’s hard to find one that’s any other color. She thinks it’s some kind of fashion law that you can’t wear pink if you’re a redhead, even though all the magazines say that you just need to pick a shade that complements your hair color. She told me that’s just a lie advertisers made up to sell lipsticks. (There’s no way you’re interested in this debate, but you’re going to hear all about it, anyway.) She’s been pissing off all the other girls by criticizing their dress choices. Chrissy Cunningham, one of the cheerleaders, almost cried because Carol said her carnation-pink Gunne Sax gown would made her complexion “look like ass.” And Nicole Evans isn’t speaking to her because she said Nicole could wear anything she wanted, because she “has a face like an angry hardboiled egg no matter what she does.”

(I feel bad for Nicole—her face doesn’t actually look like an egg—but I’d feel worse for her if she wasn’t always talking behind my back about how sad and boring and not-that-cute I am, and how she can’t believe Steve ever looked at me twice. She’s not totally off-base, but I don’t think she should blame me for Steve’s bad taste, ha ha.)

About the only girls who are still talking to Carol are me and Heather Holloway. Heather has black hair and looks gorgeous in pink, so Carol couldn’t really insult her. (She couldn’t insult me because I didn’t tell her my dress idea—I want one like Ariel wears in Footloose, pink and off the shoulder—but I’m sure she’ll do it on Saturday.) But Heather’s mother is taking her shopping in Indianapolis, so it’s just me and Carol at the downtown J.C. Penney’s…and Mike. I don’t know if Mom’s still punishing me by making me chauffeur him—he shot up a few inches over the summer and seriously needs new pants—or if she’s just desperate to get him out of the house. Honestly, though, he’s not going to make the trip worse. Carol will be annoying about it, but she’s always kind of annoying. Plus she’ll talk the whole time, so I won’t have to figure out what to say to Mike. He’s so quiet nowadays. I worry about him sometimes.

By the way, don’t think that you’re getting out of meeting me at the mall in Indianapolis. Your time is coming, because the selection at the J.C. Penney’s downtown is never good, and I still want my dish back.

Love,

Nancy

[desidesidesi]

The first liveblogging of the excitement of The Box TM was getting out of control so I'm making a new post and sharing a new story.

So! My mother and her friends live in a poor backwater of Mississippi. Like we visited during Thanksgiving and the "City Square" which is the heart of the city was either cute, kitschy gift stores or buildings that are literal husks with caved in rooves. So they are permanently B O R E D and have picked up the art......... Of Dumpster Diving in the extremely rich college town north of them (not naming it cuz I don't wanna dox my mom or ruin their weird side hussle. @banahbanah you know where I'm talking about)

Apparently they heard tale that all the rich college kids and stores just throw out perfectly good furniture, clothing, anything under the sun at the end of the semester. Sure enough she's told me about a giant 65in TV that was "broken" (a 50$ repair got it working again) basically a new wardrobe, perfectly good food (Star Bucks throws away so much shit), Coach Bags, and knick-knacks galore!

This is all relevant because half of the stuff in The Box are goodies from one of her outings!

First pic!

In this picture (Professor Juniper for Scale) we have a Bento Box, a Tea Cup (which she worried would break but thankfully did not), and two different gift sets of tea (both thrown out well before their expi date) all gotten from the HomeGoods Dumpster in said rich college town.

Now, I know what you're thinking: Desi. Isn't this a little privileged and problematic that a bunch of Southern White Women can go around dumpster diving and basically not get in trouble with the police? And I say... Like, duh? But they kinda do a Robin Hood approach to their little operation and share with everyone in their friend group anything and everything they find! They're basically using their privilege to stick it to corporate America and even MORE privileged white people!

Also in this pictures are crystals from an old chandelier in my childhood room. Mom was replacing it and asked if I wanted it? I'm renting, I don't have any place to put it lol so I just said "Can I have the crystals to make Sun Catchers with?" She didn't quite get it, but she sent them anyway so yay!

And of course, my delicious Milex (powdered milk for those that don't know what the hell I'm talking about) 💖💖💖 I know I'm a weirdo for basically using it as a cereal additive by making things extra milk, but I fucking love it and it tastes of childhood. 💖 We have to get friends to "import" it from Honduras cuz the company that makes it doesn't sell online anywhere??? It's fucking wild how hard it is to find this stuff!!! Gotta ration better this time. I literally used the last bag she got me in a few weeks 😅

Also? Cute cows on the packaging!

And finally! The Purse-My-Aunt-Saw-And-Thought-I-Would-Appreciate-It-Best!

Look at this thing! It was "Made in Nepal" with "environmentally friendly products" and is bigger than my damn torso??? I can fit my full-sized sketch book in this dang thing lol! It's very... Hippy dippy lol. I definitely see why she got it for me 🤣 Will have to wear it around Colorado and see if I get any Crunchy Moms lusting after it.

BUT YES. I did an unboxing on Facebook Messenger with my mom and dad and it was silly fun. Hope this random hobby my mom has taken up nets me more random bullshit lol.

[la-lauren]

We're in the Bay for Thanksgiving, which has been nice. We get to stay at her mom's partner's house by the beach. They live in Southern California and rent out the main house up here but keep the MIL suite empty for themselves when they visit or for us when we're up here. It is so nice to have a whole space to ourselves by the beach without paying hotel prices.

Anyway, as such, we have seen her dad and his family only once and just done what we wanted otherwise. Also very nice. We've been sleeping in until 11. I feel the angels singing, the cells in my body feel like they're finally getting a chance to recover, instead of waking up to walk a dog rain or shine. I do miss our babies though.

We went to Target to pick up the Eras Tour book that was released yesterday, on Black Friday. I am so thankful Black Friday isn't the mob it was 20 years ago. We leisurely walked around Target and the mall, got what we wanted, and it was so low stress. We ended up trying on engagement rings, and honestly, it just made me so sad, because our finances are not anywhere near get-married level, and I don't want to get married or even engaged under a Trump presidency anyway.... which means we likely won't be married in the next 4-5 years. That just breaks my heart. I am also afraid of marriage rights being revoked for couples "like us."

When we got home last night, we put on a documentary called A Secret Love. We knew it was two older lesbians and their lives, but I truly didn't expect it to hit the nerves that it did. They spent 70 years together, the majority of them in closet. They told their families their whole lives that they were just roommates. When they finally did come out, the remaining living family members did accept them, and they got married in the nursing home (I think).

I think it just hurts knowing that the same rhetoric Pat & Terry had to fend off is making a resurgence with the Christian nationalists that are about to be running our nation. They feel so free to harm others in their words and actions. I worry about the raids Pat & Terry saw in their days being a thing again. I don't think it'd happen in Cali, but you never know, I guess.

In California, I've felt a bit silly about the shame I've felt for being gay. In LA especially, it really is celebrated, you know? Accepted. It has become so easy for me to forget my roots, the ones that built that shame from the ground up. I have felt so loved, so allowed to take up space, so wanted -- in a place that I was always told was superficial and demonic.

I don't even just mean with my partner. I mean in public, people are kind to me. As an obese unattractive woman, I am met with kindness in LA. I am seen as a person. No one comments on my weight. I can't say the same about the South, even though the population is largely obese!

I'm sure it'd be a different story if I wanted to act, right -- like I'm not traditional movie/model material, but in the day-to-day, I am welcomed with love by these people. Not the judgment I felt in the South.

Anyway, my body does feel like it's on its last leg (literally because of my ankle/foot problem), and I worry my body may fail before I can marry the love of my life. I'm trying my best to avoid it. I'm trying so hard to be healthier. I wish it weren't this difficult for me.

On the other hand, I've noticed recently that when I'm transferring her between places or when I pick up her wheelchair with one hand, strangers will remark some version of, "Wow, you're strong," and in those moments, I am proud and thankful for my big body and strong muscles. It has been a legitimate concern if I do lose weight, whether I'll be able to easily move her around when needed or lift her chair with ease. For now, though, I am strong and more than capable, and I offer up thanks to the universe for that.

I am holding on tight to my partner, and I am ready for whatever is about to come down the pipeline because I know we're facing it together.

I'd never have dreamed up this life for myself, but I'm so glad it's where I've landed. I hope it keeps getting better. I just wish we'd landed in the Kamala-as-President timeline instead of this one.

[whatafirefeelslike]

my boyfriend’s dad is just beyond like. over thanksgiving he told my bf to buy tix for the radio city show for the week before xmas. they were almost $2k?!? for just two tix bc i said i am Not going to the show. (i’ve never seen it and have no desire to do so). and he still wanted to get them. and make the 6 hr trip here.

my bf was like but. his dad saw the show already just 5 years ago, and we’re going up for xmas so we’re going to see him a few days later, my boyfriend has work and a v important certification test he’s taking on wednesday so he can’t even go bc he needs all his free time to study. it’s just a really bad time to come, all for a super expensive show he’s already seen, and right before we’re going to visit him. plus my boyfriend said “why don’t you come next month for my band’s EP release show, which would mean a lot more to me?” and his dad said no. like what the actual fuck.

anyway his dad is canceling the trip now not bc he came to his senses, but bc he broke his toe? and my bf was like okay let’s move the train dates to the ep show next month. but he had a rough time figuring out how to resell the tix bc it wasn’t through ticketmaster. (my bf had to buy all the tix bc his dad refuses to learn basic technology). i just feel so bad for my bf what a shitty, stupid situation

[tacoma-narrows]

Rant/vent below w/ mentions of family illness/death

God these past two weeks have been so damn stressful and it has absolutely sucked. My grandmother has been in the hospital for awhile now, but she was moved to hospice either yesterday or the day before and by what my dad is telling me, it looks like she’ll pass tonight or early tomorrow.

In all honesty, I’m not super torn up about her passing specifically. Yeah, it’s sad to see but I never really knew her very well since for almost my whole life, she lived in California while my family and I were in New Jersey, and I’d really only see her at new years or occasional larger family gatherings. It more is really hard not being home to support my dad, my aunt and my uncle, since I know this is really hard for them.

My mom and my sister came up to visit me for my school’s family weekend last week and that was really nice (my brother came up from Indianapolis as well, where he’s going to college abt 2 1/2 hrs from here), but the overall mood of them being here was overhung with the news coming in from my dad about my grandma. Initially it looked like I was going to have to fly home for like two days, at first over family weekend (which would have been horrible, since it feels like none of my college experience has gone my way and that would have only added to it), and then potentially what would have been the end of this current week. That would’ve been sandwiched between two events I really couldn’t miss here on this past Wednesday and this coming Sunday.

Thankfully I don’t have to fly home, but this thing on Sunday is also stressing me out. I’ve been aiming for this scholarship that’s offered through one of the fraternities here and I’m one of the 25 or so finalists for it after making it through 2 rounds of interviews and two days of a “leadership retreat” that consisted of team building games and a ropes course. Of the 25 finalists, only 6 get the scholarship, and it’s rewarded at a banquet on Sunday that we have to dress in business formal attire for. I was able to buy a nice outfit for it with my mom this past weekend, but I’ve never gone to an event like that, and not knowing if I’m gonna get the award is also stressful.

Then, I have two assignments I need to do/type up by Monday, and my computer’s charger decided to seemingly bite the dust. I got a new battery for it back in August just before school, so I know it’s not that. Unless my roommate, who’s more knowledgeable with mechanical stuff than I am, can fix it somehow, the soonest a new one I order could get here is Monday/Tuesday, ie after my assignments are due. I can still use the computer labs here to write/do them, but it still sucks that I generally won’t be able to use my computer at all until I get a new cable.

Depending on how things happen with regards to my grandma and what kind of things we want to do as a family afterwards, my brother and I may drive home for Thanksgiving break a day early and I’m just really hoping that this all doesn’t overshadow my break from school, bc that would also really suck.

Anyways, I just had to get that out of my head. Thank you for reading if you did. I’d appreciate some just, comments of support on this if you’re willing, just so I know some people are there.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #088

(taken december 14th last year; uploading surveys done while gone)

Can you read lips? NO. I am *HORRIBLE* at trying to read lips, like I absolutely can't.

Do you have trouble feeling excited for other people when they receive good news? Oh absolutely not, I definitely get excited too!

Do you know anyone whose parents are homosexual? I know I have a mom friend who is bi, but she's in a relationship with a man currently. I don't THINK I know anyone full-on gay that's a parent?

Do you consider yourself patriotic? In what ways? Hell no, this country grosses me the fuck out.

Are you part of any online communities? If so, which ones, and how did you get involved in them? I'm in a meerkat RP circle, I'm an admin at the SH wiki (which I have been awfully neglecting lol oops), and I'm active in my WoW main's guild.

Have you ever purchased clothing that you were too afraid to wear? HA yes, when I was still a teen-ish I had this honestly really cute black crop top that just says "FREAK" and I only wore it for a single picture, lol. It would never fit me now. I actually think I mighta got rid of it.

What is your lover's middle name? He doesn't have one.

When was the last time you saw your last ex? Well I saw a PICTURE of us on Facebook like a day or two ago, and fucking finally FB allowed me to delete them. I haven't seen her in person in years and never want to again, either.

Who was the last ex you talked to? Sara.

Who is your best friend? Pick only one. My boyfriend Girt.

Who was the last person to flirt with you, other than your lover? Some random dude on dA, he got blocked real quick lmao.

Would it bother you if your lover flirted with other people? Uh yes???

What exes do you still associate with? None.

What is a topic that interests you so much that you could read about it for hours? Meerkat behaviorisms.

Are there any holidays that you hate? If so, which and why do you dislike them? Columbus Day because that man didn't discover jack shit. Thanksgiving (its roots anyways, it's definitely evolved) because it's a literal celebration of genocide and slavery, etc.

Do you have a secret that you’ve kept for a long time – years, maybe your entire life? If so, why haven’t you told anyone about this secret? Yes, and I don't tell anybody because they affect nobody, are entirely benign, and just really don't matter.

What was the very first social media site you signed up for? MySpace.

If you were in a coma, who would be making healthcare decisions for you? My mom.

What’s something you’ve done that sounds too crazy to be true? The only thing that comes to mind is how many times I've been admitted to psych hospitals; like I lost count many visits ago. I would estimate I've been like, six times. I feel like people who know that would expect me to be crazier than I am.

Does anyone in your family smoke? My dad and his wife do.

What’s your opinion on hunting? Trophy hunting? Fucking barbaric, repulsive, diabolical, just evil. IF however you are hunting for food and have a respectful, appreciative mindset of the animal, then I'm more okay with it than I once was, because here's the thing: that deer you killed out in the beautiful woods, and probably rather quickly, ABSOLUTELY had a better life than that mistreated, miserable cow that was raised simply to be killed and probably given LESS than the bare necessities. I want to emphasize though, mindset is so important here; I wouldn't support you if you were tracking a deer seeking the "thrill" of just killing it. Like in that case, get fucking help. Be very respectful and extremely appreciative of that animal's unwilling sacrifice.

Have you ever had a pet escape and run away? Oh my god I will never forget Teddy doing this one winter night in the snow. I was going BALLISTIC as my dad ran and later drove after him. If I remember well, he ended up being at the pond not too far from our place, which he and Dale (another old dog of ours) had run to before to play. Thank god he was okay, at this time he just still had good energy and was very into marking his territory and smelling EVERYTHING. He also really, really enjoyed the snow, he used to love zooming through it and just playing.

Do any of your exes know each other? Jason and Juan knew and didn't like each other (at least, I was aware Juan openly didn't like Jason, I'm not really sure if Jason felt anything about him). Tyler MIGHT have known either of them, too, I don't know.

What’s an opinion you find impossible to take seriously? "Dinosaurs aren't real," especially when they add on, "Satan put those bones there to lead us away from God." You are PURELY fucking delusional.

Have you met that person that can get into your mind through a sentence? Yeah, Jason. Probably still to this day. He had so much goddamn power over my emotions without even intending it, and I feel like that hasn't fully gone away.

Have you heard of Jeffree Star? What do you think of him? Yes, I genuinely like him and who he's grown into and think his work ethic is fucking unreal.

Who do you think you have cried over the most? lol do I really need to answer this???????????

Do you hate celebrities with big boobs and have had plastic surgery? lol grow up?????? People can do whatever the fuck they want with their own bodies.

Is anybody in your family schizophrenic? If so, what is their life like? A half-sister is, but I've never met or spoken to her; I've seen literally a single picture of her in my entire life. I have no idea what her life is like. Sometimes it rears up to bother me more than usual, how Dad's only kids he interacts with at all are me and my immediate sisters... Even his other daughter Misty had to reach out to HIM when she and her children visited here to go out to dinner so he could actually meet them. Like, that shouldn't be his child's job. Misty is understandable bitter about how she grew up (her mother was absolute, total, 100% insane shit that couldn't even keep custody of her BECAUSE she was fucking mental, and Dad didn't take her), and I just wish she didn't have to be by Dad acting more like a dad to her. WOW welcome to the family therapy session y'all

What’s something somebody can do to make you hate them instantly? Say something inappropriate about a child came to mind first, but there's really a lot of other stuff, honestly. Just being a shitty, gross, violent, and/or forceful person.

Are there regular trains in and out of your town/city? Yes.

What was the last animal you saw, and was it a pet? Roman, right now, 'cuz he jumped up onto the desk to chill by me.

Have you ever watched an anime series, start to finish? Yeah, multiple.

Do you feel the need to rant about anything right now? If so, go for it. So my Tumblr account just RANDOMLY got terminated yesterday (I seriously mean it when I say I did absolutely, positively nothing whatsoever) and I'm rather annoyed by it. This has already happened to me once on my old account, and it took like around a week to get the damn thing back.

How many serious relationships have you been in? Three. Ish. I don't really know what to consider Sara's and my former relationship. Like I feel like we had genuine feelings and did some romantic things without much shyness or anything, but idk. Jason and Girt were/are SO much different from what she and I had.

Do you have a lot of regrets? Yes, and they fucking haunt me and refuse to let me go so I can maybe even mildly like myself.

Have you ever been so angry that you screamed out of nowhere? Yes. I know I've done this a couple times into a pillow, maybe other times without but idr.

Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day this year? NEXT year I know I want to do at least a LITTLE something. Girt had Covid this year so we couldn't hang out that day and it super bummed me out, really.

What do you usually buy for snacks when you go to the cinema? Almost always popcorn, rarely some sort of candy.

Look to your left and name five things you can see. Presents for Ash's kids from Mom, the closet, the stand with the printer on it, paper shredder, and a cute piece of random artwork on the wall from who knows where.

Do you like having your lip softly bitten when you’re kissing? bro get outta my bedroom

Who is your favourite YouTuber? Overall? It'll probably always be Markiplier, he's my idol, but I really haven't watched him anywhere near regularly in like... two years? His content just generally isn't my style anymore, but I still love him as a person to death. You know, I'm really not too sure WHO my active favorite is anymore. Maybe John Wolfe or Game Grumps, I really don't know.

Have you ever been hopelessly in love with a celebrity? Nah. I have my fangirl episodes, but "hopefully in love" has never been the right phrase at all. I know none of these people personally and therefore can't even truly LOVE them and have always known that absolutely nothing is ever going to happen between me and any random person on the Internet. I can just melt from afar lmao.

What was the last band shirt you wore? I'm quite sure it was Ninja Sex Party. Thankfully it doesn't say the name of the band on the shirt lmfao I wouldn't want to explain that ever.

How many pairs of glasses (not sunglasses) have you owned? I know at least three.

What color is your flash-drive? Hot pink.

What is your favorite color(s) of eye-makeup? B L A C K

Have you ever worn a thumb ring? Yes; that's where I put mine and Sara's friendship ring. Safe to say I don't have it anymore.

What brand of TV do you own? Uh I'm pretty positive it's a Vizio?

Are high school football games fun? Ugh, no. I used to have to go to them quite a bit when my older sister was a cheerleader. There were always wasps and shit around/under the bleachers, it was hot, too crowded, and I just had absolutely no interest in sports. They were also way too long to me. I know a lot of the time Nicole and I didn't even watch, we'd just go find something weird to do that generally involved getting dirty, meeting with other kids that were as bored as us, and going under the bleachers when we weren't supposed to lmao.

When was the last time you had a particularly hectic day? Oh hell if I know.

To whom do you feel the most important? Mom and Girt.

How long has your favorite song been your favorite? Since it came out early this year lmao.

Is one of your favorite colors yellow? No, I actually really don't like yellow.

How old are your siblings? Tbh I only have my two immediate sisters' ages memorized, which are 29 and 24. Others are in their 30s. Katie might even be close to 40, idr and can't math.

Ever had a fishtank in your room? No.

Do you drink more soda than anything else? Not anymore! It's generally flavored sparkling water.

Do you know anyone who wears camouflage often? my brother in christ I live in the SOUTH

How many jobs have you had? Three.

Do you hate your last ex? I VERY much don't like her, at all, but I'm past my "ugh I hate her" phase. I ain't wasting my energy on hating someone I never have to see or speak to ever again.

Are you ashamed of any of your family members? My uncle who my family no longer associates with. He's a fucking filthy slug of a human being.

Have you ever been in a courtroom? Yes.

Were you a chubby child? No, I was pretty normal.

Are you afraid to sing in front of people? Yes. To get you to visualize the sheer extent, in the over three and a half years Jason and I dated, he heard me sing ONCE, at church.

When did you last dance with someone? Uh with Sara a few years ago.

Do you feel awkward watching sex scenes? Yes, but not AS bad as when I was like, a teenager. I still do feel exceptionally uncomfortable if it's with my mom present, though.

Did you ever have senior photos done? No. I wanted to, we just... didn't, I don't remember why.

Do you attend church regularly? You literally could not even PAY me to go to church, never mind regularly. It's complete fucking brainwashing and greatly diminishes genuine, confident self-worth. I don't consider myself a Satanist, but even I can still say hail thyself, hunty.

Have you ever wanted to be a teacher? lol absolutely not.

Are you currently listening to music? Yeah, "Modern Love" by Mother Mother just started.

The person who last spoke to you in person, what is their name? Donna, but Mom to me.

The person who last texted you, tell me their name? Still Donna, lol.

What was your favorite class to take in school? Art courses and German.

Have you ever had a pixie cut? No, but I'd like one one day... Both my mom and hairdresser have told me I would look amazing with one now, which I really appreciated, but I just can't convince myself. I know it's a stereotype that fat people usually can't pull off short hair, and trust me it was ballsy enough for me to get it as short as it is now, I'd just be so obsessively paranoid that people would think I'm uglier with a pixie cut.

Is your signature legible? I think so, yeah.

If the person you like/love proposed to you right now, you would say? I know I'd say yes even though I know it's unwise to do so this early. Thankfully I'm pretty damn sure just given Girt's intelligence and dedication and strong pragmatism, he knows way better than to do that anytime soon.

Are you satisfied with your current camera? I sure am, and I'm actually pretty excited, I know Mom is ordering a pack of lenses (polarizing, ND, and UV) for it for Christmas!

When was the last time you felt ignored? Um idk. Probably during some family dinner at my sister's, I know I've been totally talked over adn brushed off more than once.

Is smoking an immediate turnoff to you? I won't ever attracted to a smoking man til I saw Richard Kruspe bro 😭 lol but generally yes, celebs don't count, right?

If given the opportunity, would you legally change your name? Nah, too used to this one and plus I like it.

Has religion ever come between you and a friend or family member? Yep.

Has anyone ever told you that you were worthless? Well, in fucking essence, Sara has.

If you jumped out the nearest window, would you live? Yes, very easily.

Is there an animal that scares you? I have a very intense irrational fear of larva, like maggots and stuff. Cicadas also notably freak me out, I can't handle their eyes. Whale sharks are another irrational fear, their mouths creep me out. Australian spiders like their funnel-web are freaky too.

When you get blood tests, do you feel faint afterwards? No.

Do you think you will have a date for prom? Whoa now buddy you are WAY late, lol. I went to Jason's senior prom and he went to mine.

Are you afraid of being cheated on? Not really, at least not with Girt. I hope this doesn't sound all arrogant or full of myself, but just factually, this guy wanted me way too long for me to even really WONDER if he'd cheat on me. He's directly told me he wanted to date in high school, but he didn't do anything because he was concerned what people would think of the age gap. Then Jason came along and he respected that.

Do you know how to play poker? It's actually funny, I did as a KID but don't now, hahaha. I really enjoyed it as a child, just obviously without monetary gambling.

Is your face shape oval, heart shaped or square? I genuinely don't know.

When was the last time someone asked you to go somewhere? When Girt invited me to his place Friday for his sister's birthday.

Do you have small wrists? Yeah; even with my size, my wrists are definitely noticeably small. Like I can slip those security bracelets off at the psych hospital (lmfao what a talent) or like the skating rink to show you paid.

Are you someone’s best friend? Girt always calls me his. <3

What’s the biggest annoyance in your life right now? The state of my legs, really. I'm gonna get on fixing this shit, I've had enough. It stops me from SO much.

Do you know anyone that smokes weed? I know one major pothead irl as well as one online; I'm certain others do it, but being a pothead is like, literally a major part of these two girls' personalities.

How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed? A hell of a lot.

Thinking back to the person you fell hardest for, do you still feel that way? Nope.

If you’re a girl, what’s your bra size? Funny thing, I actually don't know. I know I'm naturally a C-something, but being my weight, I'm not at all convinced that's accurate right now. This is gonna sound wild, but I haven't had a properly-fitting bra in literal years; I just wear some that were Mom's that somewhat fit, but absolutely not properly, but enough to where it's not incredibly obvious with clothes on. I'm pretty sure I need something custom because if the cup fits, the back doesn't, and if the back fits, the fucking cup doesn't. It's extremely annoying, but bras are not cheap, especially when you're not a standard size.

Ever known anyone who did business with a prostitute? I have zero idea.

If your parents are divorced, how old are your step parents? Kim is a couple years younger than Dad, so mid/late 50s.

Do you like your step parents, or are they assholes? She's an intolerant bigot/obnoxious Christian, but she has good traits, too.

[TW: DOMESTIC VIOLENCE/ABUSE] Ever had an abusive parent or other family member? No, thankfully.

Ever walked in on your parents while they were getting busy? If so, how many times and how old were you? No; I find it SO hard to accept that my parents ever did have sex lmao, they were SO incompatible and just never got along, it seemed like growing up.

If you were to get pregnant as a teen, what would happen? Well, I woulda kept it, because at the time I was pro-life. Thank fuck this never happened.

Do you prefer broccoli or asparagus? Broccoli, I absolutely hate asparagus.

What was the last flattering thing someone did/said to/for you? Uhhhhhh let's see probably something Girt said, he honestly says stuff like that a lot. ;__; <3

Do you know anybody that believes that magic/witchery truly exists? Yep, my sister Misty to name just one.

Roughly how hot are the summer temperatures where you reside? Usually 90s, sometimes low 100s. I absolutely hate it.

[ldh-headcannon]

Hi! If you're still taking request, could you do the S.W.O.R.D leaders meeting up with their s/o's parents & family members for the first time? How would they react, will there be any conflict, and how would they convince the family that their s/o can have happiness with them, and do they have any plans for the future? (Or any other points that you think is good!) Thank you very much! <3

As a late Thanksgiving present, I present you with this request! Sorry for the delay on it. Sorry if it's not exactly what you were looking for, but I tried.

Aslo I'm sorry that Smoky's is so short, but I did add like 2 different scenarios to his. One on what it would be like if you didn't grow up on the Nameless Road and one if you did.

Please let me know if you liked it or not. I really do wanna know if there is anyway I can be improving these at all. But please enjoy

Cobra

Somehow he’s quieter than normal while you’re getting ready

He’s clearly nervous but doesn’t wanna show it

He stares at two shirts, debating which one he should wear

Your parents invited you two to dinner at their house so they can meet your boyfriend

Normally Cobra doesn’t put too much thought into meeting new people

But these are your parents we’re talking about here

So it’s a little nerve-wracking for him

You wrap your arms around his middle as he continues to stare at the shirts he has laid out on the bed

“Which one do you think I should wear?”

You give him a smirk as you take in his bare chest

“I think you should just go without one”

He will chuckle, relaxing a little

“Now what kind of impression would that leave?” He’d ask before pressing a quick kiss to your lips

You decide on the red shirt would be best

He will ask you if you should take his bike or if you should just walk

He doesn’t want you parents to disapprove of him just ‘cuz he rides a motorcycle

You assure him that bike or not, they will love him. Cuz you love him

With that you both take off to go see your family

Your parents both excitedly greet you before introducing themselves to Cobra

For the first time in basically ever, he introduces himself as Junpei

He’s still pretty quiet through dinner

Mostly just observing all the interactions

His hand barely leaves your hand or lap

He made sure to compliment how nice of a home your parents have and how delicious the meal is

Your dad asks the question, “What are your intentions with my child?”

Cobra will be completely honest and say “All I want to do is cherish them and protect them with my entire being.”

After Cobra sees the smile of approval from your dad, he’ll relax a lot more

Once everyone has had their fill he will offer to help clean up and volunteer to do the dishes

Your parents honestly love him and will tell you to come visit again soon.

Rocky

As soon as you mention to him that your parents want to meet him, he starts planning

He’ll insist that you all meet up and have dinner at his club

It’s partially so he can maintain a bit of control over the events that could transpire over the night

But it’s also a subtle brag to show that he has enough money to care for you

If your parents live out of town he will offer to pay for a hotel for them to stay in

He will close the club for the evening and hire a cook to prepare whatever you all may want for dinner

He will send Koo to pick them up as the other employees of Club Heaven preps the place so everything is ready for when your parents arrive

It certainly seems like your parents are more intimidated by Rocky than the other way around

Koo takes everyone’s order before grabbing wine for you all

Rocky remains cool, calm, and polite through the whole dinner

Your parents are blown away by the whole experience

Their jaws dropped when they discover that the club is actually owned by Rocky

Your mom half-jokingly asks you if he’s a mafia boss

He’s got an answer for all of your parents questions about the future he sees with you

“You need to understand. I view your child as if they are royalty. So I will do what I must to keep them happy and healthy.”

There is so much sincerity in his voice that it calms any concerns or worries they had

Koo brings out your favorite dessert when everyone has finished dinner

It’s low-key another way to further ensure that Rocky has your happiness as a first priority

Once your folks are ready to leave he will ask Koo to get them home safely before asking them to come visit again

Murayama

This man is a complete nervous wreck

Your parents are hosting a little dinner as a means for you to introduce him to them

He complains to Seki and Furuya for an entire week

There is even a moment he tries to fake sick the day of the dinner

But as soon as he sees how disappointed you look having to cancel, he makes a miraculous recovery

He becomes the living embodiment of the scene from Bob’s Burgers. “Fine I’ll go but I’m going to complain the whole time.”

He changes into his “good clothes” (a pair of jeans and a blue flannel that isn’t covered in blood stains)

As you make your way up to your childhood home Murayama will take off his bandana and shove it into his pocket

He starts trying to fix his hair a little before your parents greet you both

Murayama gives an awkward bow as he introduces himself

Throughout dinner he’s twitching and stuttering every time anyone directs conversation towards him

When your mom asks him what he does for a living he freezes for a moment before giving a vague answer about how he is still in school, hoping it left enough implication to make her think maybe he meant college

Your mom nods like the answer wasn’t enough to satiate her questions but she will drop it for now

You can feel his leg bouncing uncontrollably underneath the table as your parents’ questions keep coming

He clearly didn’t have the answers they were looking for either, and they aren’t too impressed

This was putting him even more on edge

That’s when you place your hand on his knee to try and help ease his nerves

You come to his defense, “Mom. Dad. Please back off. He’s trying his best and I know that. He knows how to make me laugh and he cares about me. That’s enough for me. So please, that should be enough for you too.”

Murayama looks to you in shock

He knows how much your parents mean to you, and it honestly gives him courage to speak up too

“Thanks Y/N. I’m sorry if this is rude, but i need to say it. I know that I’m dumb, and broke. And to most people I come off as just some kind of delinquent. And I’m very aware that your child deserves better than me. I remind myself everyday. But there are three things I know for a fact. One, is that I love Y/N. Two is that for some crazy reason they love me too. And third is that I’m good in a fight. So you better believe that I’m gonna fight for them. Fight to keep them happy and safe for as long as I can. I’m sorry if that’s not enough.”

You feel tears threaten to fall out of how much you love and appreciate your boyfriend right now

You squeeze his knee in a form of quiet support as he gives you a nervous smile

Your parents stop hounding Murayama the rest of the night.

Things get a little quiet after that too

But your parents seem to accept Murayama a little more after that

Smoky

When you aren’t originally from the Nameless Road

Another one that’s hesitant to meet your folks

But for different reasons

It’s mostly due to his living situation growing up

He’s used to families just abandoning each other

But he will put his grudges aside for you

He won’t necessarily dress up for the occasion

I mean don’t get me wrong he will clean up as much as he can

He does want to try to make some kind of good impression on your parents

But dude knows where he’s from and what he’s about

He gets a little nervous knowing your parents are hosting dinner at their home

He will compliment their home as he walks in

He tries to ignore any judgy or sympathetic your parents may give him

He’s going to try and be a gentleman through the whole dinner

He will answer any and every question your parents have honestly

May your parents like the answers or not is a different story

At first they try to hide whatever their initial thoughts are

But unfortunately, Smoky is a very observant one

Though he will continue to try to ignore it, for your sake

If your parents make any comments though, that he can’t just ignore

And when that line is crossed, he’s willing to put your parents in their place if needed

He will remind them that not everyone is privileged with steady jobs and decent shelter

He will inform them that he knows better than anyone that these people exist

And if they try to pity him, he will then let him know that he’s survived this long with their pity, he doesn’t need it now

You will give him a look that tells him that you don’t want an argument to break out

He will apologize to you and your parents for the little outburst

Hopefully no more arguments or comments will be made and the dinner will finish in kinda awkward silence

When you are part of the Nameless Road

Your parents already know him

He will treat them like family already and vice-versa

They are prolly hella excited that this man could possibly become their son-in-law of sorts

Prolly shares extra food with him out of gratitude though he always hesitantly takes it, insisting they need it more than him

They think he’s the sweetest guy you could ever be with

Hyuga

You’re the one worrying about this get together the most out of anyone

You have a feeling that this is gonna end up with either your parents dragging you out of the house, forbidding you from seeing Hyuga ever again. Or he’s gonna scare them away before they even enter the premises

As you pace across the room, Hyuga watches you with a giant smirk on his face

“What’s the matter? Nothing is gonna go wrong.”

His lad back expression and his words of assurance do everything but relax you

Everyone seems to decide it’s best to have dinner at Hyuga’s family home

You’ve cleaned the house for like a week straight

The rest of Daruma are asked to stay away for the evening

That night you prepare a traditional Japanese dinner for everyone to the best of your abilities

You’re basically sweating bullets when your parents show up

You stutter through the entire greeting, leaving Hyuga to introduce himself

He’s actually quite polite and welcomes them to his home

He’s still wearing a very relaxed expression through the evening

Your parents are impressed with how big the house is and how well kept it is

“Well that’s all thanks to Y/N. They’re incredible.”

Your dad will ask how Hyuga could afford the place

“Well it’s actually passed to me from my own father.”

Your parents nod their heads and share their condolences

You can’t really tell what’s happening here.

Hyuga’s being nice? Is this even Hyuga? Is he planning something? What could it be?”

Dinner goes on and Hyuga offers some sake to go along with the food

He brags about how you made all the food yourself and that he’s so proud of how delicious everything is

You keep watching him, expecting something to go wrong at some point

Maybe he will mention how he finds it fun to beat the shit out of people

Or he will just go on and threaten your parents’ lives for funsies

But no. None of that happens

Instead he explains to them how he owns a cassino

Your dad has never looked so impressed by just someone’s career before

And Hyuga gives a modest shrug, “Well it pays the bills.”

You’re honestly just as surprised as your folks with how well the whole night is going

When your parents leave, Hyuga invites them come back soon

But as soon as they pull out of the driveway, the act seems to drop

“Well that was annoying.”

You look at him confused, “Why did you do that? How did you do that?”

“My family may have been brutal, but they were also businessmen. And when they had their meetings at the house, we would all have to be on our best behavior. Or my dad would beat us into next week. And as for why. Cuz your parents are important to you. And you're important to me.”

This makes your heart stop for a moment

Hyuga isn’t one to say sappy or romantic stuff very often, so you know he means it.

Before you can get too emotional though he lets out a yawn and heads off to bed

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

I have a theodicy-adjacent question if that's alright. How can I offer prayers of thanksgiving without implying that God "likes me better" than They like other people? For example, I often want to thank God for keeping my loved ones safe through this pandemic, but it feels weird when so many have lost dear ones. I've learned a lot about how to wrestle with God through your ministry, but how to bring your positive feelings to God without toeing the line of a prosperity gospel-esque mindset?

Anon, I feel you! Some point a few years ago I had a similar unsettling realization. I knew that gratitude is important not only for our relationship with God, but for our psychological wellbeing — yet I felt so guilty for thanking God for things i knew others didn’t have. Did attributing the good things in my life to God imply that God wasn’t with those who lacked those good things? 

I brought that guilt and discomfort to God (and still do, whenever it arises anew). asked Them to help me sit with it, accept it, and then transform it into something more fruitful.

guilt transformed to motivation. discomfort transformed to commitment. what i was left with was an understanding that i did not need to stop my prayers of thanksgiving, but to expand them.

i take time to really feel and express my gratitude for the abundance i experience. and then i ask God to help my gratitude move me to a desire for others to experience that abundance too. I ask for guidance in how i can help make that abundance happen in the the lives of those around me and far from me. 

___

i also make time for lament. many of us are taught how to ask God for things and how to thank God for things, but grief and lament are not taught. however, thanksgiving and lament are not opposites, but work together. they enrich one another. we need to take time for both.

a book that helped me embrace lament was Barbara Brown Taylor’s Learning to Walk in the Dark. You can read quotes and whole passages from it in my tag over here.

one of my favorite songs/psalms to sing/pray in lament is this one. The psalmist empowers us to question God, to ask why and how and when? and then the psalmist leads us to praise God anyway — to praise in spite of and with our doubts and our questions. 

when we look at all the pain in the world — in our own lives, the lives of loved ones, the lives of those we don’t even know, and in the struggling pulse of all Creation — we feel all sorts of things. Distress, despair, anger, grief. But some of us are afraid to bring those feelings to God. We’d rather avoid the feelings in general, repress them, not sit inside them for a while. (And certainly, we should not wallow in the bad all the time.) Bt when we dare to assign intentional time to sit in those feelings, God sits in them with us. 

And there is a strange thanksgiving in there, too — that we aren’t alone in the lament. We come to see that it is true that God does not will suffering upon any one of us — that the fact that sometimes i experience blessing while you struggle, or you find success while i go without, is not because God is choosing which happy few to bless that day. God really does will abundant life for all, and grieves when sin (individual, systemic, the rot that eats at this world) blocks that abundance for anyone. 

___

in continuing to make time to feel and express gratitude, and then to make time to lament and to both desire and participate in abundance for others, thanksgiving does not elevate me above others as “better” or “more blessed” than they are. instead, gratitude reminds me of how interconnected we are with one another. In the Body we all share, “If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it” (1 Cor 12:26).

___

When abundance wins out in spite of sin, we rejoice! When it is we who enjoy that abundance, our gratitude should not lead to smugness or self-congratulations, but to humility. it should shape us, move us to bring similar abundance to others.

A book that has really helped me understand that concept is Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass (which you can read online for free).

Christian texts have told me that the appropriate response to all God’s gifts is gratitude, but it’s Kimmerer’s book that helped me digest and embody just what that means. We acknowledge abundance, and we use that gratitude to connect us to the giver, and to others to whom that giver would also share Their gift.

Here’s one passage from her chapter “The Gift of Strawberries,” starting on page 33 of the webpage linked above:

Even  now,  after  more  than  fifty  Strawberry  Moons,  finding  a patch  of  wild strawberries  still  touches  me  with  a  sensation  of surprise, a feeling of unworthiness and gratitude for the generosity and kindness that comes with an unexpected gift all wrapped in red and green. “Really? For me? Oh, you shouldn’t have.” After fifty years  they  still  raise  the  question  of  how  to respond  to  their generosity.  Sometimes  it  feels  like  a  silly  question  with  a very simple answer: eat them. 

But I know that someone else has wondered these same things. In  our Creation stories  the  origin  of  strawberries  is  important. Skywoman’s  beautiful daughter,  whom  she  carried  in  her  womb from Skyworld, grew on the good green earth, loving and loved by all the other beings. But tragedy befell her when she died giving birth to her twins, Flint and Sapling. Heartbroken, Skywoman buried her beloved daughter in the earth. Her final gifts, our most revered plants, grew from her body. The strawberry arose from her heart.

In  Potawatomi,  the  strawberry  is ode  min, the  heart  berry.  We recognize them as the leaders of the berries, the first to bear fruit.

Strawberries first shaped my view of a world full of gifts simply scattered at your feet. A gift comes to you through no action of your own, free, having moved toward you without your beckoning. It is not a reward; you cannot earn it, or call it to you, or even deserve it.  And  yet  it  appears.  Your  only  role  is  to  be open-eyed  and present.  Gifts  exist  in  a  realm  of  humility  and  mystery—as with random acts of kindness, we do not know their source.

...Gifts  from  the  earth  or  from  each  other  establish  a  particular relationship,  an  obligation  of  sorts  to  give,  to  receive,  and  to reciprocate. The field gave to us, we gave to my dad, and we tried to give back to the strawberries. When the berry season was done, the plants would send out slender red runners to make new plants.

Because I was fascinated by the way they would travel over the ground looking for good places to take root, I would weed out little patches  of  bare  ground  where  the  runners  touched  down.  Sure enough, tiny little roots would emerge from the runner and by the end of the season there were even more plants, ready to bloom under  the  next  Strawberry  Moon.  No  person  taught us  this—the strawberries  showed  us.  Because  they  had  given  us  a  gift, an ongoing relationship opened between us.

...It’s funny how the nature of an object—let’s say a strawberry or a pair  of  socks—is  so  changed  by  the  way  it  has  come  into  your hands, as a gift or as a commodity. The pair of wool socks that I buy at the store, red and gray striped, are warm and cozy. I might feel grateful for the sheep that made the wool and the worker who ran  the  knitting  machine.  I  hope  so.  But  I  have no inherentobligation  to  those  socks  as  a  commodity,  as  private  property. There is no bond beyond the politely exchanged “thank yous” with the clerk. I have paid for them and our reciprocity ended the minute I handed her the money. The exchange ends once parity has been established, an equal exchange. They become my property. I don’t write a thank-you note to JCPenney.

But what if those very same socks, red and gray striped, were knitted  by  my grandmother  and  given  to  me  as  a  gift?  That changes everything. A gift creates ongoing relationship. I will write a thank-you note. I will take good care of them and if I am a very gracious grandchild I’ll wear them when she visits even if I don’t like them. When it’s her birthday, I will surely make her a gift in return. As  the  scholar  and  writer  Lewis  Hyde  notes,  “It  is  the  cardinal difference  between  gift  and  commodity  exchange  that  a  gift establishes a feeling-bond between two people.”

That  is  the  fundamental  nature  of  gifts:  they  move,  and  their value increases with their passage. The fields made a gift of berries to  us  and  we  made  a  gift  of  them  to  our  father.  The  more something is shared, the greater its value becomes. This is hard to grasp  for  societies  steeped  in notions  of  private  property,  where others are, by definition, excluded from sharing. Practices such as posting  land  against  trespass,  for  example,  are expected  and accepted  in  a  property  economy  but  are  unacceptable  in  an economy where land is seen as a gift to all.

Lewis  Hyde  wonderfully  illustrates  this  dissonance  in  his exploration of the “Indian giver.” This expression, used negatively today as a pejorative for someone who gives something and then wants to have it back,  actually  derives from  a  fascinating  cross- cultural misinterpretation between an indigenous culture operating in a gift economy and a colonial culture predicated on the concept of private property. When gifts were given to the settlers by the Native  inhabitants,  the  recipients  understood  that  they  were valuable and were intended to be retained. Giving them away would have been an affront. But the indigenous people understood the value of the gift to be based in reciprocity and would be affronted if the  gifts  did  not  circulate  back  to  them.  

Many  of  our  ancient teachings counsel that whatever we have been given is supposed to be given away again. From the viewpoint of a private property economy, the “gift” is deemed  to  be  “free”  because  we  obtain  it  free  of  charge,  at  no cost. But in the gift economy, gifts are not free. The essence of the gift is that it creates a set of relationships. The currency of a gift economy is, at its root, reciprocity. In Western thinking, private land is understood to be a “bundle of rights,” whereas in a gift economy property has a “bundle of responsibilities” attached.

...

In  material  fact,  Strawberries  belong  only  to  themselves.  The exchange relationships  we  choose  determine  whether  we  share them  as  a  common gift  or  sell  them  as  a  private  commodity. A great  deal  rests  on  that choice.

For  the  greater  part  of  human history, and in places in the world today, common resources were the rule. But some invented a different story, a social construct in which everything is a commodity to be bought and sold. The market economy  story  has  spread  like  wildfire,  with  uneven  results  for human well-being and devastation for the natural world. But it is just a story we have told ourselves and we are free to tell another, to reclaim the old one.

One  of  these  stories  sustains  the  living  systems  on  which  we depend. One of these stories opens the way to living in gratitude and amazement at the richness and generosity of the world. One of these stories asks us to bestow our own gifts in kind, to celebrate our  kinship  with  the  world.  We  can  choose.  If all  the  world  is  a commodity,  how  poor  we  grow.  When  all  the  world  is  a gift  in motion, how wealthy we become.

[xneens]

best friend’s daddy - part one

Warnings: Dark!Andy Barber, extreme dub-con elements, explicit sexual content, forced orgasm, age gap, breeding kink

Word count: 3.8k

Summary: Andy finds interest in his son's best friend.

Or: In which he gets too comfortable around you when your best friend isn't looking.

Opening the door to your best friend's car, you flashed him the plane tickets with a wide smile on your face. "You, me, and two-way tickets to Aruba. What'd ya say?"

You best friend gave you a grimace, sighing as he pulled out of the student parking lot. "Fuck, I wish I could. But I can't. I'm supposed to go back home for Thanksgiving, anyway, and there's no way I can get out of it."

"Jacob." you whined, slumping back in your seat, the smile you previously wore turned into a frown. "We have four days off from stress, and the smell of cheap beer. Do you really want to spend it in your childhood home with your lawyer dad who probably won't spend much time around? Or do you want to go to a tropical island where we're legally allowed to drink as much as we want?"

Jacob rolled his eyes, driving back to his frat house that you had practically forced him to join. It was a miracle he passed initiation. "Obviously Aruba but after the divorce...I don't know, I just have to be with Dad, you know? Mom has her other family to be with and he's got no one."

"Oh." you murmured, your selfish reason now deemed even more childish. Sitting back in your chair, you sighed, flicking the plane tickets on the dashboard. "I guess I'll just go alone and hope it's some kind of a 365 Days situation."

He chuckled, stopping abruptly when a pedestrian sprinted across the road. "You know for a fact your parents won't allow you to go to some foreign island alone. And I know that you're not gonna go home for Thanksgiving so come with me. If you ever change your mind about visiting your parents, their house isn't that far from mine."

You waved away his offer, sulking. "No, I wouldn't want to get in the middle of a mini family reunion. Besides, I don't think your dad likes me very much. He kept glaring at me whenever I was around, especially senior year. And I doubt anything's changed in the past three years."

"My dad doesn't hate you. No, he just has that expression on a lot." Jacob explained, turning on his fraternity's driveway. Half of the members were on the yard, doing some kind of weird activity for the house. "Please come. I don't want you spending Thanksgiving alone."

Opening the car door, you got out, quickly turnings the heads of the guys. Ignoring them, you grabbed your plane tickets before walking up besides Jacob. "Who says I'll be spending it alone? With a bottle of tequila in one hand, and a hot Italian mob boss in the other, I'd say that would be great break away from this hellhole."

The frat house smelled like sweaty socks mixed with cheap alcohol, the smell forever imprinted in the stained furniture, and dirty laundry flung on the floor. It was a wonder, with Jacob being so organized, how he could stand living in such a messy house. Jacob lead you to his bedroom, which wasn't as bad as the rest of the house, but not particularly any better.

"You're spending Thanksgiving with me." he declared, grabbing his duffel bag, the one he often used to spontaneous trips you surprised him with. With an armful of clothes in his arms, he stuffed it all in the bag without checking if they were clean. You grimaced at your best friend's current habit. "Once I get done packing, I'll drive you back to your sorority and I'll help. We're leaving tonight."

Giving up, you plopped down on the messily-made bed. "Fuck my life. Fine."

—

The dying leaves was falling fast, almost all of the trees of all the city were bare and ready for the long winter to come. With Jacob's slow driving, it was dark by the time you came into city limits, the drive from New York City to Newton only a couple hours but he made it seem like days. Yet, you were sitting on the Barber's driveway before you could blink. You were already regretting coming along.

Jacob snatched his duffel from the back, grabbing yours along with his. "Dad knows your with me so he cleaned up the guest room. He sounded happy on the phone so don't give me shit about him not liking you."

"Chile." you mumbled, opening the car door. Even with your plush jacket you felt the cold wind hit you like daggers, the cold air seeping through the fabric of your thin leggings. Oh, how you wish you were in Aruba. "Holy fuck, it's cold."

Your best friend walked up besides you, leading you towards the front door with both your bags in hand while yours stuffed themselves in between your cross arms, trying to find warmth. Jacob rolled his eyes, climbing up the cemented stairs to the front door with you in tow. "Of course it's cold, it's basically winter. I'm surprised it hasn't snowed yet."

The door opened before either of you could open it yourself, warm light streaming from the opening, halfway blocked from the hard body standing in front of you.

Andy Barber, tall, smart, powerful, and painfully handsome. His broad shoulders almost as wide as the doorway, the thin button up he wore stretching out and showing his toned chest. The beard he always wore was trimmed, eyes bluer than the ocean. And even arms that looked attractive. To say you didn't have a crush on him when you were younger would be a lie but it soon disappeared when he gave you disapproving looks.

But the way he was smiling, enveloping his son into a big hug while he glanced up at you made you question if it really was all in your head. The man seemed happier than he had ever been when you had been hanging out with his son; or maybe it had been stressed.

"Hey, dad." Jacob greeted, hugging his father for a few seconds before letting go. Holding out his arm, he motioned for you to come forward with a knowing smirk. You hated that smirk. "Dad, you remember my best friend—"

Andy Barber murmured your name, smiling as he did so. "Yeah, I remember. Cheerleader, right? I distinctly remember opening the door when you were getting changed in Jake's room. Sorry about that."

You blushed, embarrassed at the memory while Jacob glanced between you and his dad. Andy motioned for you two to come inside but just as you passed him, you accidentally brushed up against his chest. "Don't worry about it. It's not like it's the first."

The house was just like you remembered it, the same color, the same furnitures—if not cleaned—and the same layout. You could see the kitchen from the front door, and the stairs in front of you, leading towards the second story. Even during the holiday it still felt empty, even more cold than it had before.

Andy chuckled while Jacob plopped down on the coach, dropping the bags on the floor next to it. "Well, I'm glad you could come. Jake, be a gentleman and show your friend where the guest room is."

The tv was already on before Andy could finish his sentence and the college boy innocently looked up, flashing his best puppy dog eyes. "But, I...I just sat down. Dad—"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it." the older Barber muttered. He walked up beside the couch, and looking at the duffels. "Which one's yours, sweetheart?"

The nickname threw you off and if your expression was any indication, you knew that newfound smirk on his face was the cause of it. You pointed at it. "Um, the gray one."

Andy picked up the bag and walked up to you while Jacob day back in his chair, relaxing. You'd get back at him again. He knew how you felt around his dad. "Come on, I'll show you to your room."

"Okay." you muttered, glaring at the back of Jacob's head. You knew it wasn't your imagination; he had hated you back then with all his glares, the jaw clenches, and head shaking whenever you were in the room, or anywhere near the house. It was ridiculous how this man took everything in stride.

Andy climbed up the stairs with you behind him, trying very hard not to stare at that luscious butt of his. His trousers had no right to be that tight, or have the audacity to stretch that way. Thankfully it only took a few seconds to reach the second floor, the brightly lit hallway showing up.

"I had the guest room renovated after Jacob went off to college so it'll be different than what you're expecting." Andy explained, slowing his pace to match yours as both of you walked to the end of the hallway. "There might be a few dumbbells I forgot to take out. You can just throw those in a corner or something."

Instantly you felt guilty, the pang in your chest making you chew on your lip. "Yeah, I'm sorry about the unexpected tagalong. Jacob—"

"Don't be." the older man interrupted, stopping in front of a door, his hand wrapping around the doorknob. He smiled at you before opening the guest room. "I'm glad you're here."

You gave him a small smile, observing the large room from the hallway. Andy stepped inside, carefully placing your duffel on the bed while he motioned for you to come in. Looking around the room, you saw the queen-sized bed in the middle, pushed up against the back wall with one bedside table on each side, decorated with lamps. The carpet was soft beneath your socks, the whitish-gold room leaving a warm feeling through you.

"Thank you, Mr. Barber." you thanked, grateful the man didn't hate you like he thought he had. Stepping a foot inside the room, you realized how tense the vibe was.

"Call me Andy. Mr. Barber makes me feel old." Andy replied, hands landing on his hip as he studied your uneasiness. You nodded, awkwardly shifting your weight onto one foot then the other. He smirked, walking towards you, angling for the door. "My room is right next to yours so if you need anything, feel free to come in."

He winked, his arm slightly brushing yours. Even through the thick jacket, goosebumps risen on your arm, the uneasiness around the older Barber climbing. Thankfully, he had left the room, allowing you to sigh in relief. Whatever had changed his feelings towards you, you weren't sure you were a fan of the development. Just knowing his room was closer than Jacob's made you feel even more tense, the situation a little suspicious.

You didn't sleep well that night.

Andy kept making his way back on your mind whenever you tried to think of something else, anything else, only to have the man come back when you had been trying to sleep. After tossing and turning for hours, you gave up on sleep, trudging across the guest room in your Nike shorts that barely covered your ass along with a tank top that could've passed as a headband. Despite the cold weather, it was almost too warm in the Barber household.

Quietly, you walked down the hallway, squinting in the darkness as you tried to find your way to the stairs. The cold floor was evident on your bare feet as you made your way down the stairs, hoping it was okay to get a glass of water here. You never did really feel comfortable in your best friend's childhood home.

Your feet padded against the cool floor, your eyes trying to see everything by the one dim light coming from the microwave. It was enough to light up the kitchen but not enough for you to avoid the wooden chair. Grimacing, you hissed when you stubbed your toe on the legs of the chair, trying to be quiet so you wouldn't wake anyone up.

Glancing at the clock on the kitchen island, you were shown it was two in the morning, as if the darkness outside wasn't evident enough for your adventure in the wee hours of the night. With a throbbing toe, you limped your way to the sink.

"Is your toe okay?"

Surprised, you jumped in the air, thankful for the counter or else you would've fell over. Andy came out from the shadows, the dim light showing his broad form, his plaid pajama bottoms and white shirt humanizing the strict assistant district attorney.

Leaning against the counter, you nodded. "Yeah. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, I just wanted to get some water."

"Don't worry, you didn't. I was already up when I heard footsteps in the hall." Andy replied, walking towards a cupboard, opening it to reveal glasses. He grabbed one, filling it up with water before giving it to you. "Here you go."

"Thank you." you whispered, taking a sip. He stood close to you, only a few feet away, but the way he kept creeping closer made you nervous. "Uh, so what kept you awake?"

Andy leaned his hip against the counter, eyes never leaving yours. He crossed his arms. "Oh, you know, work stuff. I've been thinking of retiring lately. Don't get me wrong, I love my job; but sometimes I wish I could spend my day the way I want to. What about you?"

"Oh, um, college stuff." you answered lamely, gulping down the rest of the water. Placing the glass on the counter, you felt a hand touching your bare waist, the skin contact sending a shiver down your spine. Looking back up, you saw Andy's eyes darkening ever so slightly. "I, uh, better get back to bed."

Before you could move a muscle, Andy trapped you between the counter and his body, his hard abs pressed against your stomach, both arms on either side of you. His tongue licked his lips in anticipation.

"Mr. B-barber?" you asked, nervous by the motion, if not a little turned on. His face was less than a foot away from yours, his eyes dropping to your lips.

Andy took a deep breath, a hand landing on your back. It crawled up a he talked. "Do you know how many times I had to jerk off to an image of you? How many times I had to hide my raging boner when you walked around the house in your tiny cheerleading outfit like you didn't know what you were doing to me?"

"Wha—" you started to say but shut your lips as soon as you felt the hardness pressing against the top of your hip. You swallowed, trying to sort the information you've just been given. "Mr. Barber, I d-don't know what you're t-talking about—"

And suddenly both his hands held your body, one tangling itself in your hair while the other dropped below your waist, resting on the curve of your ass. Your heart stopped for a second. Andy pressed a kiss on your cheek. "Of course, you do. Don't you think I know about the crush you had on me? No matter how short it lasted, I know you wanted me, too. Like you do now."

On that, Andy kissed your mouth before you had a chance to object. He slipped his hand up your thigh until his fingers came in contact with your clothed, warm pussy. Your thighs had been parted by his hand, and when he started rubbing the slit over the satin shorts, you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you deeper and harder.

   

Your tongues made a wet dance inside the cavern formed by your tightly joined lips. You couldn't believe you were kissing your best friend's dad, let alone him jacking off to you, but it was the hottest, most incredible kiss of your life. Until it wasn't. It was when Andy's fingers ripped shorts off of you--along with your underwear, leaving you naked from the waist down--that you finally pushed him away, despite the wetness he had created.

   

"No!" you said, pushing the older man away, trying to retrieve your torn shorts but was still stuck between his body and the counter. Andy pressed another kissed on your collarbone, yet you tried to pull away. "Mr. Barber, we can't do this. Jacob--"

"Jacob's asleep, sweetheart," Andy whispered, nibbling your ear. You bit your lip to stifle a moan. "Be a good girl, and finish what you started all those years ago."

   

Cutting off your argument, he crashed his lips back on yours, his fingers crawling up your thighs to, once again, rest on your mound, your legs parted by his knee between them. He fingered your slit, your juices spreading on his fingers and your clit was jutting out as hard as a little beach pebble. You were still kissing hotly when Andy finally moved his hand upward from your cunt towards your breasts.

   

He cupped one, squeezing and fondling it before moving aside to do the same thing to the other. Within moments, his hand was sliding and groping all over both your breasts, barely able to get enough of the incredible way they felt. He paused to play with your nipples, rolling and squeezing them firmly between his fingers.

   

Andy was overjoyed to discover his son's best friend's nipples were incredibly sensitive, and the harder he squeezed them, the harder you rubbed and grounded your naked half against the bulge of his cock. After a few minutes, Andy let his hand go back down between your warm, silk-smooth thighs. He could have spent hours at a time fondling your breasts, but he was just as eager to feel your smooth, warm pussy again. As he slid his fingers against your slit, he found your cuntlips were even wetter and more swollen than before.

   

You moaned heatedly into Andy's open mouth when his fingers started to grind up and down your excited slit, and Andy soon slid two of his long fingers up inside your cunt. He slid them deep, curling them as he searched for that sweet spot of pleasure inside you while he brought the pad of his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles around the hard, wet nubbin.

Hands still resting on his chest, you broke the kiss, trying to stop whatever was happening between the two of you. "Mr. Barber, please stop. We shouldn't be--"

A moan broke off the plead when the man found your g-spot, your legs trembling from the pleasure. Stunned, you gazed at the fingers so deeply embedded in your hot, juicy cunt. Andy was just as amazed by the sight of his fingers sliding in and out of the former cheerleader's pussy. The two of you watched, both gazing down in amazement at Andy's fingers sliding in and out of your dripping entrance.

Andy was just as entranced by the vision of his son's best friend's gorgeous tits heaving with the deep breathing you couldn't control as he fingerfucked you.

"Look at you, naked in my kitchen while your greedy pussy swallows my fingers." Andy breathed, shoving his fingers deep into your wet cunt with a forceful thrust. You mewled, throwing your head back. "Did you imagine me taking you like this? Like the slut you are?"

His words were enough to throw you over the edge, and you moaned deeply as your orgasm washed through you, hitting so hard you couldn't control the tremble in your legs. If it hadn't been for his arm wrapped around your waist, there was no doubt you would've crumbled on the floor. Andy didn't wait for your orgasm to finish as he yanked his throbbing cock free, the head purple and angry, desperate to be inside the warm, wet cunt of yours.

He smeared your juices over the length of his cock, throbbing once again as the smell of your pussy hit his nose. Without warning, he lifted you up on the counter, positioning his cock at the entrance of your inviting cunt. You shook your head, unable to talk from the overwhelming pleasure yet Andy ignored you, his pulse hammering as he pressed the bulbous tip of his cock against your slippery, wide-open pussy, rubbing his flesh all around your opening.

Andy plunged his cock deep into you, causing you both to groan. He growled at the tight cunt clenching his cock. "Oh, fuck! Fuck, this pussy is mine."

Words abandoned you as he started to pump his length in you with fluid hip thrusts. Andy let his hands slide onto the perfect, round cheeks of your ass, gripping them as he slid in and out of you. The force of his thrust filled the kitchen, the sounds of skins slapping, your whimpers, and his groans were loud enough to wake up Jacob but neither of you cared.

You watched in amazement as his thick, large cock slid in and out of your wet pussy, your juices coating the cock, making it, even more, easier for him to ram his dick into you. Every once in a while, your cunt would clench around his cock, earning a growl from the older Barber, making him snap his hips up, the tip of his cock touching your sweet spot.

It wasn't long before your second orgasm came along. Your cunt clenched around his cock while you threw your head back, mewling loudly as he fucked you through the immense amount of pleasure. The way you looked, the sounds coming out of your mouth, made him lose it. It was too late before you could warn him.

"Fuck!" Andy growled, his thrusts becoming sloppy. "I'm gonna cum. Cum inside this wet pussy."

That broke you out of your daze, and you felt the swelling of his head inside you. With wide eyes, you tried to push him away but the man was too strong and you were spent. "No! Andy, I'm not on anything! Don't!"

He groaned once again, the thought of your belly swollen with his child getting him closer to his release. "Fuck, fuck fuck. Gonna get you pregnant. Give Jacob a brother. I'm gonna cum in your pussy, sweetheart."

You shook your head, fear overriding the pleasure. "No, please, don't! Andy!"

Andy growled, burying his cock deep within your pussy, shooting ropes and ropes of his seed inside you. You felt the warm cum fill you, the obscene amount of the white, sticky liquid filling you up. Horror washed through you as Andy finished, giving you a kiss on the lips, his cock still inside.

"Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart.”

[honeypiehotchner]

coming out -- Hotch’s Daughter!Reader headcanon

Just a lil thing I wrote to comfort myself because sometimes I wonder a little too much about how different I’d be if I had a better coming out experience a.k.a. if Aaron Hotchner was my dad he would’ve been a lot nicer to me

(Also it’s in hc format because I am too exhausted to write a full blown fic right now, love y’all though xx.)

Summary: Hotch adopted you when you were 17 and he’s been nothing but the best Dad anyone could ask for. You’re 19 now and a freshman in college, and you have something important to tell him. Thanksgiving break is coming up soon and...you invited your girlfriend to spend the week with you.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, one mention of being too anxious to eat

you’d be a nervous fucking wreck

who wouldn’t be, though?

even when you know the person is supportive, you’re still nervous. when you came out to your best friend, you were trembling like crazy, even though she’s never once been anything but supportive of the lgbtq+ community

all that aside, your dad is different

he’s pretty closed off at times, but you expected that when he adopted you

he’s a single dad, raising a young son, and for some reason decided to add you, a seventeen year old girl into the mix

you’re nineteen now, and in your freshman year of college, which means you’ve gone through a lot of self-exploration

and in the short period that you’ve been on your own, you’ve realized something

you like girls. like a lot. like, so much so that you have a girlfriend, and you’ve been dating her for seven months now

and you invited her home for thanksgiving

in your defense, she has nowhere else to go, because her family is from out of the country, and they don’t celebrate thanksgiving

you want her to experience the holiday for the first time, and when she mentioned wanting to spend it with someone she loves, you blurted out the offer

the only problem is, your dad has no idea she’s coming home with you

thanksgiving break starts in two days

on a last minute, impulsive, “if i don’t tell him right now i will throw up everywhere” decision, you drove to your dad’s office

the BAU is only a thirty minute drive from your dorm, so you visit your dad every other week or so

it’s a Wednesday and it’s barely 2pm, so you know he’ll be there

but he doesn’t expect you at all

he’s in the middle of a phone call when you knock on his office door, and his facial expression is more than shocked when he sees its you standing there

you stretch out on the couch like you’ve done countless times when you didn’t want to be alone at home and Jack was off with friends

Hotch can tell something is eating you, so he tries to hurry the phone call along as quick as he can, and soon he’s hanging up

“hey you,” he says, standing and rounding the desk to give you a hug

you gladly accept it, wrapping your arms around his middle

you never really used to like hugs, but his have always made you feel safe

that and Jack loves hugs, so you kind of had to get used to them with him being your little brother

“surprise,” you chuckle nervously

having a profiler for a dad means that absolutely nothing gets past him, but he’s done his best since adopting you to not push subjects that you don’t want pushed

but occasionally, when he can see how badly something is hurting you to keep inside, he breaks that rule

just like he does today

“what’s going on?” he asks, sitting in one of the chairs across from the couch, letting you stretch back out

“well,” you pause to clear your throat, “you know how thanksgiving is next week?”

“yes,” he nods. “you’re on break, right?”

“mhm,” you confirm. “all week.”

“Jack will like having you back home all the time.”

“i’ll like getting to spend more time with him,” you smile, having forgotten about that. Hotch will still be working up until Wednesday, and then will probably be back Friday, but you and Jack can fill the other days easily, especially since it’s been a while

“was that all?” Hotch asks, knowing it wasn’t

“well,” you say again; it’s your nervous tell. “how would you feel if i...invited someone over?”

“like a friend?” he asks, and you nod hesitantly. “i don’t see why not.”

“okay,” you exhale. that was easy enough, but it wasn’t the truth. not completely. “what if it’s a girl?”

Hotch chuckles quietly. “it can be a girl, a boy, or anyone. i don’t mind. as long as they don’t mind an air mattress to sleep on and a little brother running around.”

“what if...what if she slept in my bed? with me.”

silence.

but then he smiles. “that’s okay too.”

“you’re not mad?” you ask.

“why would i be mad?” he asks seriously. “is she your girlfriend?”

“...yes.”

“for how long?”

“seven months,” you blurt. “and is it okay if she’s here all week? her family is from out of the country, so she can’t exactly go anywhere else, and i panicked because i love her and i invited her--”

“it’s okay, Y/N, slow down,” he says softly. “yes, she can stay the whole week.”

“thank you,” you murmur, chewing on your lower lip, and stopping when you see your dad tap his own lip

it’s a small thing he’s done for you since he adopted you. if you’re chewing your lips or cheeks, he quietly taps his

“you’re not mad or...weirded out or anything?”

“not at all,” he says. “truthfully, i’m surprised it took you this long to tell me. i knew you were seeing someone.”

“what?!” you gasp. “how could you even tell?”

“the tone of your voice,” he confesses. “i could tell when she would be there, but i didn’t know who and i didn’t want to bring it up. you don’t have to tell me everything and i knew you’d tell me whenever you were ready. but i knew someone was making you happier.”

“well,” you half laugh, half scoff. “i can’t believe you. but i don’t know why i’m surprised-- hang on, did you already know i was gay?”

he shrugs. “i had my suspicions, but again, i knew you would tell me when you were ready -- if there was anything you wanted to tell.”

“oh my god,” you cover your face with your hands. leave it to your dad to make such a nerve-wracking situation become classically embarrassing. “are you kidding me? i swear to god.”

“on an unrelated note,” he laughs, “would you like to go out to dinner with her tonight?”

you furrow your eyebrows, lowering your hands. “yeah? her and i always do?”

“it’s on me,” he says. “use the credit card.”

“the card is for emergencies.”

“then consider this an emergency.”

“dad.”

“yes daughter?”

that always irritates you when he does that, but you smile anyway. “thank you. for being the best, always,” you roll your eyes with a laugh, always dramatic.

“thank you for sharing this part of your life with me,” he says sincerely. “oh, and i’m still giving her a hard time when she’s over.”

“what? no!”

“it’s my duty.”

“i will lock you out of the house.”

“i’ll kick the door down.”

“be nice to her,” you say seriously. “i really like her.”

“i know,” he smiles. “do you want to stay for lunch since you’re already here?”

oh, right, you haven’t eaten yet. you woke up anxious as hell about telling him, so you haven’t had any food today. “please,” you chuckle. “is garcia here?”

he nods, “in her office.”

“sweet,” you grin. “i’ll be back later with food.”

“okay,” he laughs, watching you practically bounce off the walls now that you’ve been relieved of that big secret. “hey, Y/N?”

you turn around. “yeah?”

“i love you.”

you smile wide, practically throwing yourself in his arms this time. “i love you too, dad.”

[mickeyhenrysgf]

Fuck, Marry, Kill

Summary: After coming home from college, your parents decide to throw a party. At the party, Bucky Barnes stumbles upon a game you’re playing with your best friend.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: age gap, (reader is in college) making out, inappropriate touches and sexual acts, dirty language

“Noo! There’s no boys allowed down here” your best friend slurred, as she waved her alcoholic beverage in the air. You rolled your eyes lightly, carefully putting her cup down to prevent her from spilling the drink all over herself.

“Come on, sweetie. They’re all talking about kids and shit, I’m sick of it” Bucky announced as he sat down across from you.

“Yeah, well, don’t you think that’s a little concerning for you. Shouldn’t you be settling down...” you blurted, the alcohol already in your system giving you some courage.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, before taking a swing of his drink.

“And what about you? Huh? Last year in college and still no boyfriend” he challenged, shrugging.

He was good at this game. You hummed and tilted your head in response.

“At least I’m getting laid!”

“Fuck you, Barnes—“

“Is that a promise?” A smirk twitched against his lips and you rolled your eyes.

You first learned about Bucky when you came home for Thanksgiving in your sophomore year of college. Seated at the table, you noticed he wasn’t the same age as your parents. But, he was still a good 10 plus years older than you. Working in the same place as your parents and living almost 3 blocks down, they instantly became friends. Now as a senior, you also considered Bucky as a friend.

Your friend scoffed at the playful banter before hushing the both of you. “Anyways, Y/N, Fuck, Marry, or Kill” she whined, she was definitely drunk but you didn’t care.

Bucky’s elbows rested on his knees as he looked at you.

“Aren’t you a little too old to be playing that? Or is this some college bullshit game?” You blushed lightly, flipping him off. He chuckled softly and shrugged.

Yeah, so what if you had a crush on Bucky Barnes. It was harmless anyways. His kind eyes stayed on yours, waiting for an answer but you focused on your friend.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead”

“Alright, let’s make this fun!” Your friend clapped as she giggled lightly at Bucky. “Let’s do— Jake from economics, Nick from the swim group, and Bucky!”

“What?” You and Bucky both said in unison, the two of you staring at each other.

“Oh, come on, Y/N— it’s just a game. Bucky doesn’t even care. Right?” She questioned, as she continued to drink. Bucky cleared his throat and shook his head. “See—! plus, we’re all adults here” she added, looking at you.

Bucky was curious. Honestly. The fact that he would have made a move if you weren’t the daughter of his fellow co-worker was telling. You made him laugh, laugh till tears filled his eyes. Made him even feel younger.

You looked over at Bucky, licking your lips in hesitation. You never fully understood the vibe he gave off. He had brought girls to your parent’s house before. Player? Probably. Sometimes when you visited your dad at his job, there would be a new girl in Bucky’s office. But, that was the first & last time you would ever see them.

“Well, I would do... marry- umm... Jake— because well, his family is fucking rich!”

“Good choice!” Your friend sang as Bucky watched you in anticipation.

“And then I would F-Fuck Nick—” you boasted in a very unconvincing way. It was lie obviously.

“Finally, I would kill you Bucky, sorry, you’re just not my type at all” you exaggerated, making a gagging face. That was a lie too.

“Aw! Sorry Bucky! You know Y/N never really had a type for older men” Your friend teased, finishing her drink.

You looked over at Bucky, your face feeling flushed. You prayed it didn’t show. Perhaps, you could blame it on the alcohol. Your palms releasing an unhealthy amount of sweat as well. But Bucky, He was unphased. Better yet, He smirked slightly. Why the fuck was he smirking , you thought to yourself. You wanted to scream at him. God, and now your back was sweating. This is gross, you thought, swallowing thickly.

“Y/N—? Hello?”

Your friend tried to grab your attention as thoughts ran through your head.

“What?” You snapped as you finished cursing out Bucky in your head. Oh, and he laughed at your mistaken aggression. He’s an asshole.

“It’s my turn” your friend said not realizing that you accidentally snapped at her but Bucky had. He noticed everything.

You started to clean the basement as your friends left one by one. It was almost midnight, and the party was quieting down.

“Missed something” the familiar voice said as he waved a wrapper in the air. You turned around slowly as Bucky stood, leaning against the basement wall. He shot a smile towards you. Of course, he’d be one of the last people still here. After your awkward game of Fuck, Marry, Kill , Bucky had excused himself out of the basement & went back upstairs.

“Oh, thanks. You can just put it in the plastic bag over there” you went back to tidying the items, but you heard Bucky’s footsteps become louder. He began to give you a helping hand in folding the chairs.

“That was quite a show you pulled off...”

“I’m sorry?”

“Y/N, I’m not dumb” he huffed, folding the chair and then stepping closer to you. You looked up and noticed how much taller he was compared to you. You stepped back a bit, tripping on the chair behind you. However, Bucky caught you. His hands firm on your hips.

He chuckled softly... that fucking laugh again.

“B-Bucky—“ You stuttered, looking up at him. His hands brushing over your skin for the first time. Goosebumps shooting across every inch. God, did he always look this handsome up close?

“You’re nervous-“

“I’m not.”

“So, you actually want to fuck Nick...?”

“You don’t even know how he looks!” He caught you off pulling out his phone.

“Oh, but I do—“ he showed you a screenshot from the university’s website. “You can do better than that.” He tsked as he put his phone back in his pocket.

“How did you even find that?”

He caught your lies. But, why? Why did he care? His hands squeezed your hips, running them up your body and then cupped your face. You felt fragile in his embrace. You weren’t scared, but you were nervous.

“Tell me if you want me to stop...” he looked into your eyes waiting for a disapproval. His thumb caressing your cheek before tracing your lips.

Make the first move.

Your hands pressed against his chest before sliding down until it reached his clothed hard on.

He groaned, pulling you against the wall, his slight hard on resting on your thigh, as you looked up at him with innocent eyes.

“Fuck, You know your father is going to kill me, right?” You smashed your lips against his. You couldn’t care less what your parents thought. Right now, you wanted to kiss Bucky. He licked your bottom lip, a way of asking permission as you opened your mouth, the two of you exploring & sucking on each other’s tongues. His hands reached down to your ass and squeezed on it. He patted it lightly, signaling to jump, which you gladly did. Your hands in his hair, Bucky’s hard on grinding against you, and making you wetter by the second. It was embarrassing how turned on the two of you were.

You pulled away slightly to breathe. Your lips already swollen, as Bucky playfully tugged on your bottom lip staring at you. “Tell me, what was the answer you really wanted to say?”

“I’d fuck you...” you admitted as Bucky grinned, leaning in and leaving small hickeys on your neck, causing you to moan lightly. He grabbed your hand and guided it towards his hard on. You blushed heavily, squeezing him which earned a filthy grunt to escape lips.

“You really thought you could keep this little secret to yourself, I would eventually find out—” He whispered in your ear, his hands running up under your shirt to grope your breasts. You whimpered, tugging a handful of his hair. His hands skillfully unhooked your bra before lifting up your shirt and bunching up the fabric till your breasts were on display.

“You’re fucking gorgeous” He licked his lips, before taking off the shirt and bra completely, throwing it on the floor. His mouth quickly attaching on the sensitive bud, as his other hand gave its undivided attention to your other breast. Bucky spared no time in pinching, flicking, and sucking which only made your arousal grow.

“Agh— fuck... Buck—“ his hands slapped over your mouth, his eyes now much darker than before. “As much as I would love to hear those moans, you better keep your pretty mouth shut” he warned as his mouth popped off from your breasts and went to licking a stripe up your neck.

“Or... You can come back to my place... I’ll make that pussy scream... You want that?” Bucky clearly wasn’t thinking straight. Neither were you. The two of you drunk off of each other’s touches without thinking of the consequences. You nodded as your hands started to palm him through his jeans. Bucky groaned, kissing you once again to shield the loud moans coming from the basement.

“Y/N...! Sweetie...! Are you down there?” You heard your mother’s voice and your eyes widened. Your mother was moments from catching you half naked with Bucky.

“Shit, shit, shit.” you began to panic, trying to push yourself off him. Your heart pounding.

“Shhhh.... Relax” his fingers stroked your cheek in the most delicate way possible before letting you down. He passed you back your bra and shirt,  as his hands were trying to move his hard on in a way where it wasn’t too noticeable.

He cleared his throat lightly. “Yeah—! She’s down here with me!”

Your eyes shot back to him still wide as before, as you quickly began to fix your appearance.

“Bucky, is that you?” Your mother questioned, her voice getting closer by the second.

“Sure is! Your daughter and I were just cleaning up the mess down here” your mother eventually coming down to the basement. A smile on her face as she saw the room spotless. Thank god, the room didn’t have the best lighting because your hair was a mess and your lips were swollen.

“She’s such a good girl...” Bucky stated nonchalantly, his arm pulling you in, as his hands rested on your ass. The nickname causing heat to rise in your cheeks. He squeezed your ass and you gasped lightly, quickly covering it with a cough.

“I’ll be right up, I just have to find uh— my phone” you explained, trying to push Bucky’s hand away from behind, but he only continued to knead your ass.

“Alright, honey, thank you Bucky for helping her out. You didn’t have to” she smiled kindly, oblivious to the actions happening behind you and Bucky before she headed upstairs.

You turned on your heel, quickly grabbing your phone. You tried to head towards the stairs but was stopped.

“Y/N...”

You released a heavy breath, looking up at him. The nonchalant attitude that he presented to your mother was gone. His hands running through his hair. More than likely, a reality check was settling in. He scratched his beard nervously, watching your every movement, waiting for you to speak.

“Don’t worry, Bucky, I’m not going to tell anyone” you promised, waving your phone in the air. “Text me when you get home...” you walked over to him and kissed his cheek. Before he could grab your wrist you pulled away and left Bucky in the middle of your basement to recollect his thoughts.