#no more time this weekend but I'll keep chipping away at the other requests over the week

[pearl-kite]

morales and a pied wagtail? (a delightful little bird that's one of my favourite little guys)

Ooh, they do seem delightful, I'd like to meet some o3o

Palette prompt list here

[melodygatesauthor]

Weekly Update - 05/18/2023

Hey all! I think I'm going to start doing weekly updates since I have a lot going on and a lot of fics in the works! I want you to know what I'm currently working on (WIPs) and I'll also toss some life updates in here as well. I'm also going to mention requests I have in the pipeline and when I'm expecting to complete them. Maybe your request is in there! (It probably is)

Going forward the updates will be on Sunday, I'm just doing this now because I have ADHD and it's on my mind today lol.

Since I've been really following the winds of inspiration lately, I want to keep doing that so I'm just putting this here so you know where the winds are blowing lmao.

I'll also mention if I think my current longfic is going to be delayed or anything here as well.

Gonna cut it up into sections to keep it consistent and easy:

Long/Chaptered Fic Updates

Currently I'm working on A Bit Dodgy, as many of you know. There will NOT be an update this Monday (05/22/2023). Though I will be working on it this week for @welcometostayingawake to edit and I'll have it to post by 05/29/2023 (that's the goal). If it's going to be pushed back again, I'll let you all know the Sunday before (05/28/2023).

Mini-series Update

Worth the Risk Part 3 should be out this week. That's the goal anyway. I have a good chunk of it done but there's still a lot to do. <- Still hoping to have this out this week but we will see (05/22/2023)

Uploading The Fractured Moon Part 2 (either tonight or tomorrow yay) Continuing to chip away at The Fractured Moon Part 3

There's a top secret fic series coming out HOPEFULLY this weekend, but it may be next weekend instead depending on how quickly I can get it finished. I'm losing my mind over it. (It's a 3 parter and all 3 parts are coming out at the same time teehee) <- Editing that today 05/22/2023. Hope to be done with it by tonight!

In June there's a writing challenge for Pride that @flightlessangelwings is putting on and I'm working on my fic for that so I'll be announcing more for that fic once I have the details better outlined!

Fool Me Twice should be getting a part 2 soon. I'm hoping I'll feel inspired to at least start it this week but maybe not. <- Taking this off the list for this week. Focusing on ABD and requests (05/22/2023).

Still considering doing 2 other parts for The OJ Problem but honestly, it's not that exciting to me rn. Since it's more of a Valentine's Day fic I might consider just doing those next year. <- Taking this off the list for this week. Focusing on ABD and requests (05/22/2023) will probably just put this on for next year for valentine's day.

Requests

I still have a sizeable amount of requests. REQUESTS ARE STILL CLOSED CURRENTLY. If your request is in blue, that means I'm going to try to work on it this week (05/21-05/27). If it's in pink, I'm going to try to work on it a different week. It's taking me a while to get into the headspace for some of them so thank you for your patience. Green means it's done I'm just working on editing now. They are posted in no real order, just working on them as I feel inspired to.

Blue Jones X f!Reader requested by @saraicus

There are 2 prompts in particular that I liked from the list you sent so I'll be doing them. - His eyeliner running down as he’s banging you against his desk - You’re a new patient and he just grows overprotective towards you. Doesn’t want you to meet other men and keeps you in solitary confinement for his jealousy sake.

Moon Boys X f!Reader by @ravenz-hope

Gamer reader and the boys getting angsty over her being too obsessed with the game (most relatable thing ever) <- Haven't had the time to set up the post but this will be coming out very soon. Need to finish editing as well (05/22/2023)

Moon Boys X f!Reader by @simpforbritgents

Asking for something like Feeling Flustered where the moon boys are doing guided phone sex.

Moon Boys X f!Reader by @mercuryrosesixx

Moon Boys w/ a f!Reader w/ nipple piercings. <- Started working on headcanons (05/22/2023).

Marc Spector X f!Reader by @blueflowerhat

Marc shower sex based on AI prompt.

Steven Grant X f!Reader by Anon -

Steven and Reader are both virgins. Marc is guiding/coaching Steven.

Doctor Marc Spector X Patient Reader by @burnincrown

Role Reversal (sort of) of Not a Doctor - Marc is the doc, reader is the patient and he takes advantage - Dark Fic

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader by @campingwiththecharmings

This is the prompt that hit me like a Nathan-shaped mac truck! -> “if you don’t like my teasing why are you moaning”

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader by Anon

Cam girl reader x Nathan - Nathan turns to a cam girl, he's been kinda stalking her. (Excited hehe)

That's it for right now. I'm a busy lady as usual but I like having a few different projects going at once! More coming soon! Thanks for always being so awesome and supportive. Love you all!

[amanda-glassen]

The Wonder Years: Part 8

While getting ready for her first school dance, twelve-year-old Olivia starts a path toward discovering who she is truly meant to be. Parts 1-7 can be found under the the tag #alex and liv: the wonder years

Thank you @ghostwritingcabenson​ @imaginaryoperagloves​ @cabensons​ @oliviaswifey​ and my lovely anon for all of your really sweet comments and tags.

Cover courtesy of my tumblr wifey @ghostwritingcabenson​

Seeing the brightly colored frozen yogurt shop put Olivia at ease because it was the setting of some of her best childhood memories and now she was going to experience it with her girlfriend.

Olivia did as Jamie had done for her mom and opened the car door for Alex. That small act of chivalry earned a big smile and a ‘thank you’ from Alex, which made Olivia feel as if she had butterflies in her stomach. 

“Babe, why don’t you take Alex inside?” Jamie suggested. “I want to stay out here and talk to Ollie.” Uh oh.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Serena gestured for Alex to follow her. “We can get first pick of the toppings.”

“Yeah!” Alex said excitedly. “I want chocolate chips and chocolate brownie bites.”

“Is everything okay?” Olivia asked, worried that Jamie had a suspicion that she and Alex were hiding something.

“Everything is fine,” Jamie responded. “This is a good talk, I promise.” She pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her wallet and handed it to Olivia.

“Cool! Twenty bucks!” Olivia folded the money and put it in her pocket. “Thanks, Jamie. I was saving up to buy a－”

“It’s not for you, kid,” Jamie interrupted. “It’s for you to treat Alex.”

Olivia tried to hide her disappointment. “But my mom always pays for frozen yogurt.”

Jamie made a failed attempt at stifling her laughter. “Think about it, kid. What’ll score you more points, you paying for her frozen yogurt or your mom paying?”

“Me, I guess,” Olivia groaned. “There goes my new bat.”

Jamie shook her head and wrapped her arm around Olivia to guide her toward the entrance. “I have so much to teach you, Ollie.”

Alex and Serena were already choosing their toppings when Olivia and Jamie entered the frozen yogurt shop. Olivia noticed that her mom had gotten their usual and she was eager to get the same－chocolate flavored frozen yogurt with Oreo crumbles, gummy worms and Fruity Pebbles－a tradition in the Benson household that they had named Dirt and Worms. 

“Mom, I’ll pay for me and Alex,” Olivia told her once all four cups of frozen yogurt were on the counter and ready to be weighed.

Serena took her debit card out of a pink and white polka dot Kate Spade wallet. “It’s okay, baby, I’ll get it. Save your money for that bat you’ve been wanting.” Olivia noticed her mom and Jamie exchange glances and she hoped Jamie could read her mind because she no longer had the slightest idea what to do. “On second thought, it’s probably not cool for your mom to pay for you on your first date.”

“I got this,” Olivia tried to say as smoothly as she could while she pulled out her twenty dollar bill and placed it on the counter.

“And I’m getting yours,” Jamie told Serena. “You already paid for dinner. We’re supposed to be in an equal partnership here.” After Alex and Olivia’s cups of frozen yogurt were paid for, Jamie inserted her card to pay for hers and Serena’s. 

“I paid for us to eat at Hot Dog On A Stick, not some expensive restaurant,” Serena reminded her. “That’s all we had time for after Barnes & Noble and GameStop.”

Jamie picked up their frozen yogurt cups and carried them over to the table. Olivia figured she should do the same for Alex until she saw Alex already eating brownie bites from her frozen yogurt. Better not take that away from her. “I learned an important lesson today, Ser. If I value my life, I will never attempt to take one of your fries. Is it the same with frozen yogurt?”

Serena scrunched her nose. “Yours is vanilla with strawberries, blueberries, and bananas. No wonder you want to steal some of mine.”

Within seconds of sitting down at the table, Olivia’s phone started to vibrate. It was a text from Elliot confirming he'd be at their secret meeting, but Olivia didn't want to risk her mom seeing a message from her dad come through so she decided to put her phone in her pocket. 

"What's this big science project about?" Serena asked them. "I've never seen an assignment have that effect on Olivia."

Olivia was in the middle of chewing a gummy worm, so she was grateful when her quick thinking girlfriend decided to answer. "It's the end of the year project which is worth 25% of our grade. Mrs. Rodriguez is supposed to give us more details on Monday, but my brother had her class three years ago and he said she lets her students pick the topic. Sometimes that's harder because the possibilities are endless. She also doesn't like us to pick partners because someone could get their feelings hurt if they aren't picked, so she puts us in alphabetical order. If she does that, it's fine because I'll get to work with Olivia. Alphabetically there's no one in between us. We should start brainstorming, Olivia."

The last thing Olivia wanted was to think about a science project that wasn't due for another month, but her girlfriend’s enthusiasm was contagious and the project was the only thing keeping her mom from asking questions about what was actually on her mind.

Olivia felt her phone vibrate again, except this time it wasn’t a text from Elliot or any of her other friends. It was another message from her dad that read, “Hey Sport. Wanna get some pizza tomorrow?”

“Who’s that, baby?” her mom asked her. 

“Just Elliot,” Olivia said nonchalantly. “He’s asking if I’m still coming over tomorrow to watch the game. I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Olivia was grateful that the bathroom was a single stall so nobody could follow her in there. She pulled out her phone from her back pocket immediately after locking the door behind her and started to respond to her dad. “Yeah can we go to Another One Bites the Crust? That’s my favorite. I can meet you there at 1.”

She waited two minutes before another response came through. “Daddy/daughter day tomorrow at 1. They have those rotating basketball hoops outside. Bring your A-game.”

When she returned to their table, a feeling of guilt hit her hard and suddenly. She occasionally hid things from her mom like when she didn’t tell her she had a girlfriend, but this was the first time she had actually lied to her. It was the worst she had ever felt in her entire life and she knew that lie was only the first of many that she’d tell her mom that weekend.

Serena asked Alex about her siblings and Olivia heard Alex talk about her older brother who was fifteen and nice to her and her younger brother who was almost nine and kind of annoying. Olivia loved to hear Alex talk about her home life and her friends and her favorite movies and TV shows, but that night her mind was on her dad and how much fun the two of them were going to have the next day eating pizza and playing basketball.

“Do you have any brothers and sisters?” Alex asked Serena.

With Serena distracted by Alex’s question, Jamie took it upon herself to attempt to steal a gummy worm, but her attempt was soon thwarted by Serena gently smacking her hand. “Hey! Nope. Hands off my worms. If you wanted gummy worms, you should have added some to your frozen yogurt.”

Olivia handed Jamie a couple of her own gummy worms. “Here, Jamie. You can have some of mine. I have a whole bunch.”

Jamie took the worms and held them up to show Serena. “Unlike you, your kid actually shares.”

“What can I say?” Serena smirked. “My kid is better than me. That means I’ve succeeded as a mom.” She held Jamie’s hand on top of the table before turning to Alex. “Sorry, Alex, before we were so rudely interrupted by my gummy worm thief, I was going to tell you that my brother Kyle is two years younger than me and my sister Lexie is one year younger than me. The three of us are really close, like best friends. Kyle and I live in the same building, but Lexie moved back to California after college. She lives in Santa Monica now.”

“Lexie Benson is your sister?” Alex asked, wide eyed and completely in disbelief. “Lexie Benson, the YouTuber? I’ve seen every single one of the videos on her YouTube channel! She does these really funny videos where viewers can request what era or theme they want and she does these in-character spoofs about－” Alex started to blush. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. She’s your sister so you know all about her channel and her videos. Wait, I think I’ve even seen you in some of them!”

“Yeah, she’ll force me every time I go out to Santa Monica,” Serena smiled at her. “And don’t apologize for getting excited over something. I’ll tell Lexie about you next time I talk to her.”

“Babe, your phone,” Jamie told her as she looked down at Serena’s phone and noticed an incoming video call. 

“It’s my mom,” Serena groaned. “If I don’t answer, she’s going to keep calling.” She swiped across the screen to answer. “Hi, Mom. I’m out right now with Olivia, do you mind if I－”

“Where’s my grandbaby?” Mrs. Benson interrupted her. “I want to talk to her.”

Serena handed the phone to Olivia. “Hi, Grandma!” Olivia said excitedly. “Wanna see my girlfriend Alex? She’s having frozen yogurt with me. Me and her went on our first date tonight.”

“Hi, Mrs. Benson,” Alex said after scooting closer to Olivia. “Pleased to meet you.”

“You’re adorable!” Mrs. Benson responded. “And so well mannered. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alex. So, tell me, how is my grandbaby on a date? Does she hold open the door and pull out your chair?”

“She’s a perfect gentleman and she’s so cute and sweet and she got me a rose and frozen yogurt tonight,” Alex beamed. “I like Olivia so much.”

Olivia felt butterflies in her stomach and she wanted nothing more than to kiss Alex if they were alone. “Doesn’t Alex look like a princess?” Olivia asked.

“She looks like Princess Grace,” Mrs. Benson told her granddaughter. “She could be a classic Hollywood starlet. And you look so handsome and grown up, my darling grandbaby.”

“Jamie cut my hair,” Olivia said excitedly.

“Jamie,” Mrs. Benson said in a teasing tone of voice, hoping Serena would hear. “Tall, dark, and handsome, herself, the one woman I would consider switching teams for.”

“Mom,” Serena groaned and Olivia couldn’t help but laugh when her mom put her head down on the table in embarrassment.

Olivia handed the phone over to Jamie. “Hi, Melanie. You’re looking beautiful as always. Where are you? I can see the sunset behind you. Are you on vacation?”

“Oh, no, I’m just on our rooftop,” Mrs. Benson said nonchalantly. “Didn’t my daughter tell you about the beach house in Malibu?”

Serena took the phone from Jamie. “I have to go now, Mom. Alex has to get home soon.”

“Not so fast,” Mrs. Benson told her. “Since you neglected to tell me when your spring break was, I looked it up on Columbia’s website and saw that it’s the week after next. I’m booking your flight to LAX. You can bring Jamie so I can finally meet her in person and my grandbaby can bring her little girlfriend and before you object and say you had something planned for my grandbaby, I will save you the effort and say nothing you can plan in that gloomy state you insist on living in is as much fun as the kids will have at the beach and at Disneyland.”

“Disneyland!” Alex said excitedly. “I’ll ask my mom if I can go as soon as I get home.”

Olivia’s dream of riding the teacups together and buying Alex a pair of sparkly Minnie Mouse ears could finally come true. “Please, Mom. Please can we go? I’ll do anything.”

“Don’t be the bad guy, Serena,” Mrs. Benson told her daughter. “I can hear how happy the kids are.”

“It’s 9:45 over here, Mom,” Serena said in a frustrated tone of voice. “I have to hang up now so we can take Alex home. Bye, Mom. I love you. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Serena set her phone on the table and then turned to face Jamie. “One thing I hate about smartphones is that you can’t angrily close them when you wanna hang up on someone. Nothing gave me more satisfaction as a teenager than hanging up on my mom with my pink bedazzled Motorola Razr phone whenever she nagged me about something like she is right now. She completely undermines my parenting every chance she gets. What if I had something planned for Ollie?”

“At least you knew how to use that phone because, apparently, you can’t use this one,” they heard Mrs. Benson say. “I’m still on the line, Serena. I’m booking your flight and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Olivia looked across the table at her flustered mom and at Jamie who was trying to contain her laughter. The short interaction with her grandma had made all of her negative feelings go away. Tomorrow, she’d spend the afternoon with her dad and, as long as they could convince Mr. and Mrs. Cabot, she’d soon be at Disneyland with the love of her twelve-year-old life.

[lizzybeth1986]

Nuestra Familia (RCD MC: Astrid)

Book: Red Carpet Diaries

Rating: G

Pairing: Astrid-centric, minor Seth x Astrid

Summary: Astrid realises she doesn't know her family as well she had thought. Minor crossover with The Freshman/The Sophomore/The Junior.

Author's Note: This is a bit late for MC Appreciation Week, but I figured I'd put it out there anyway. This is my origin story for Astrid Ortega, my second RCD MC, who is involved with Seth. There's a cameo of one character from TF/TS/TJ in the end and I have a feeling you folks have already figured out who it is 😅 I used (of course) the "crossover" prompt from this list for my fic. I'm tagging @choices-mc-rules, in case they would still like to reblog this.

Translations:

Nuestra familia - "our family" in Spanish.

Chanclas - slippers/flip-flops

Tres leches cake - Typically a very moist chiffon cake soaked in a mixture of evaporated milk, condensed milk and heavy cream. Tres leches literally means "three milks".

Abuela - one of the terms used for ‘grandmother’ in Spanish.

Ita - Short for Abuelita, also used for grandmothers. Astrid calls her grandmother the former, her mom Teresa calls her grandmother the latter.

Manda Huevos - Can mean a lot of things according to context, but generally used to express a range of emotions, such as annoyance, disappointment, contempt or disbelief. In this context, Teresa means “it's not fair”.

If I've gotten anything wrong in terms of references, please do tell me, and I'll definitely fix it in the fic.

“One more foot inside my kitchen and it'll be my chanclas for you later.”

Teresa Ortega said these words to her daughter Astrid, in the same tone one would use to offer a guest some tea.

It wasn't that her mom didn't allow her kids to help with the cooking. She did. Salome was too young to do much but set the table yet but Astrid (and her big sister Letitia, whenever she was home) often pitched in to help with the meal.

But heaven help anyone who tried to help Mom with her tres leches cake.

This recipe was from Mom's Ita’s faded little diary, passed down to her by her mother on the condition that she would learn its recipes off by heart. It was her pride and joy, Mom would often say. Her baby before her actual babies came along.

And today it was even more essential Mom get this cake right. Astrid's abuela was visiting, and ever since Astrid's mother insisted on naming her Astrid (“She’s already named my first and last - at least leave the middle one to me!”) she could do nothing right.

Perhaps it would've been easier to handle if Dad wasn't Abuela's only son, if Mom had someone she could jointly ignore Abuela with, if they had cousins they could play with while the adults sorted out their issues. Or perhaps not. Still, it would have been nice to know.

“Easy, mom, I'm not going to touch your precious cake,” Astrid said, grinning, “Lemme demolish it at lunch instead.”

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't tempted, though. She could get the scent of baked cake wafting in all the way from her bedroom, and her mother was already starting to combine Carnation milk, condensed milk and 1/4th of a cup of heavy cream into a thin, but somewhat creamy, mixture.

Mom raised her eyebrows. “Why are you here, then?”

Astrid felt the muscles around her neck tense up, but schooled her face to a look of injured innocence. “What, can't I just want to talk to my mom once in a while?”

She craned her neck a little further behind Astrid, a tiny frown beginning to form between her brows. “What's that you're holding behind your back?”

Ding! The cake was ready now, just in time for soaking. Astrid let out a sigh of relief. She wanted Mom to see this wedding card, yes - it was why she came to the kitchen in the first place - but now was probably not the time for questions. Questions about family or about secrets. Not when she knew how important it was for her mother to get her weekend cakes right.

“Family” was always a big deal around the Ortega table. Dad was his mother's only child, and Mom’s parents passed on long before any of them were ever born. Her father was as annoyed by Abuela's antics as her mother was, but it never stopped him from having her visit every Sunday because “she's the only family we have left”.

It was as if he needed her to keep himself rooted, as if without her he would be floating aimlessly, no aim or identity, taking his wife and children down that path with him. Abuela knew this. By God, did she know this.

Or so I thought, Astrid said to herself, gripping the wedding card tightly and creating new creases where the word Ortega was written.

Mom was gritting her teeth now, carefully pouring the three-milk mixture over the cake and muttering to herself. “One more word about dry cake this time and I'll give her soggy toast, I swear I will.”

Astrid would have stood up last week and said something to Abuela, if only Mom would let her. It was probably a good thing Leticia wasn't around, she'd fire shots at Abuela for less. She was protective over all of them and often in the heat of the moment she'd forget she’d be landing them all in further trouble.

She was still muttering. “Wants chiffon cake. Screams bloody murder if I use box mix. What, Teresa, looking for shortcuts again?” Mom's voice was raised in an accurately nasal imitation of Abuela's voice. It was almost like she'd forgotten Astrid was there. “Then I make it from scratch like she wants. Then it's Oh Teresa this is so dry oh Teresa it tastes like sawdust. Why else do you think I use box mix, eh? You want it from scratch and you want moist. ¡Manda Huevos!”

The diatribe kept Mom occupied while she finished pouring, so Astrid kept silent. Mom needed this. This wasn't something she can say in front of Letitia (resulting in another Sunday screaming match) or Dad (what would he do?) or Salome (no way would the kid ever take Salome, language! seriously again). Mom needed someone to have her back, no matter how silently or secretly. And that someone had better be her.

“If only Linda had stayed…”

Astrid froze. “What did you say?”

Mom looked up, blinked twice, then stiffened. “Nothing. Nothing.”

Silently, Astrid handed over the card she'd been holding, all this time. She found it while searching for her dad's treasured García Lorca poetry collection, hidden between a page that exalted love and a page that mourned loss.

Mom took it from her, her eyes widening as she read the words.

LINDA ORTEGA

and

DOMINIC SANDOVAL

request the honour of your company at their wedding.

“Dad always told us he was all Abuela has, right,” Astrid said, “The only Ortega for miles around."

Mom answered by busying herself with more activity than ever. Keeping the soaked cake in the fridge. Pouring the remaining milk mixture into two glasses. Washing her hands. Washing the dishes.

“I'll do that for you,” Astrid took a plate from Mom's hands, “Just talk to me.” She grabbed a sponge and dish washing soap, cleaning vigorously. “All this time, Dad's been telling us Abuela's the only family he has, Mom. Like, he has no one else. Like, we have no sisters or brothers besides the three of us. Was he lying?”

“You're wrong,” Mom said, her voice suddenly sounding sharper, harder, “Abuela's the only family he has left. Your father didn't lie.”

“Just omitted the truth, yeah,” Astrid wished she knew how she felt about this. Right now there was so much she was feeling that she didn't exactly know where to begin. “There's no “together with our parents” above their names either. Not like yours’.”

Mom sighed, picked the card up, then held up two glasses of milk-mixture in front of her. “Take one and give the other to your sister. I have a lot of work to do.”

On any other day, Astrid would have grabbed that glass and relished its creaminess, wiping the milk-moustache off her mouth with a flourish. But today no amount of sweetness was going to take away that weird metallic taste in the roof of her mouth.

“I'm not done asking about this,” Astrid said, scowling, “to you or to Dad. If I have aunts and cousins out there, that's something I wanna know.”

Astrid did try in the weeks to come. But she never saw the wedding card again, and neither Mom or Dad ever responded when she raised the topic again. Still. It felt nice to dream.

Every time Abuela made a snide remark at lunch, she imagined her cousins there. A snarky younger girl who’d make smartass comments. A strong boy her age who’d shut Abuela up with just a glare. A nice aunt who’d take Mom's mind off all this nonsense. It didn't help much, but it felt nice.

It felt nice knowing she had company out there. Somewhere.

--

6 years later.

“Donuts, Iowa?” Seth’s eyes were gleaming at the prospect. He was more a bag-of-chips kinda guy most days, but he also liked having massive sugar rushes before a comedy gig.

“As long as the insides of six of those are practically spilling over with fruit jam, I'm game,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. It felt exhilarating, freeing. She hadn't felt this normal in a while - normal enough to kiss her boyfriend without worrying about paparazzo jumping out from a bush. There was a guy in a leather jacket she didn't recognize - three blocks across - looking at her like he wanted to talk, but not in a way that made her feel unsafe.

That was the nice thing about Northbridge. People looked, sure, but they were less likely to make you feel like an exhibit from a zoo.

“Wait here, yeah?” Seth said, planting a kiss on the lips instead, “I'll be back before you can finish spelling “OHIO” with your arms.”

Astrid laughed. Seth said the most Ohio things sometimes. Neither of them had had this much fun since she was offered a lead role in Tender Nothings, which was why Seth always jumped at a chance to take up gigs in Northbridge, and why he always offered to take Astrid along when she was free.

The guy from before stepped forward a few minutes after Seth entered the donut shop. The summer heat must have been too much for him - his leather jacket was now slung over his shoulders. “Um, hello. Astrid Ortega?”

He stood with his hands in his pockets, mouth pursed into a thin line, a tiny curl slipping carelessly from his hair and resting on his forehead. She caught a peek at the tail end of a bird tattoo (Owl? The tail looked pointy) on his left arm.

“Yeah,” Astrid said, wondering whether it was her or Seth he wanted to talk to, “but I don't know what your name is.”

“ Zigmund. Zig for short,” he replied, looking behind him from time to time, “My sister Lucy’s a big fan. Asked me to help her get an autograph from you.”

“Is she here?”

“Yeah. But she doesn't want to come out. She's shy.”

Ah. So that was the cherry-red blur barely hidden by that building. She learned long ago that no matter how friendly you appeared, your image would precede you and intimidate people anyway. Autographs were great, but somehow she didn't want to stop at just that.

“Would she come out now if I asked?” she gave him her sunniest smile, “Tell her I won't bite.”

Zig hesitated, then nodded. Astrid watched him walk to the other building, move his hands expressively as he tried to convince his sister to join him (from that angle he almost looks like Letitia, Astrid thought), and return with a curly-haired, starry-eyed teenage girl.

“H-hey,” she said, then blushed, clearly embarrassed by her nervousness. Silently, she hands over her autograph book. She keeps her eyes studiously away from Astrid's face. “I, um, I like mystery films, and I really, really liked Tender Nothings.”

A girl after my own heart. “Maybe you'll like Sunset Boulevard, then,” she said, smiling.

Astrid could have just signed and left it at that, but there was something about these two. Something about the way they stood together, or exchanged glances, or something, that reminded her of home. Which was silly. But it didn’t change the fact that she wanted to leave a good impression on them.

“What would you like to be when you grow up, Lucy?”

Lucy didn't miss a beat. “Ballet dancer. Like my brother.”

Astrid smiled, particularly at the look the girl gave Zig. Yes, she could see on second glance that even though some people would say he didn't have the body of a dancer, he held himself with a certain grace, a certain lightness that belied a stronger core. Hit by a sudden rush of inspiration, she quickly scribbled a little note to go with her signature, and asked Lucy to read it.

To Lucy and Zig, future (hopefully!) best ballet dancing duo in America. Be sure to save me a seat when you folks get famous. Love Always, Astrid.

“Wowwww,” Lucy whispered. Zig suppressed his smile, trying not to let how he felt show, and failed. A corner of his mouth lifted upwards, revealing an almost-invisible dimple.

The two left before Seth brought his box of donuts,but they thanked her at least thrice as they walked away.

“Wait till I tell Mom about this,” Astrid overheard Lucy tell her brother as they left, “I told you she'd be really, really nice.”

“You did,” there was a note of indulgence in Zig's voice.

"Ortegas all around the world. Wherever we're from, we're nice.”

Had Seth come out a moment later, Astrid would have probably walked up to them and asked. Perhaps asked them where they were from and their parents’ names.

But Seth was here, with donuts, and there was never a moment she could take her eyes off either.

“Do you know those two?” Seth asked her, passing her a tres leches cake donut that was claimed to be one of their best, “They looked familiar.”

“”No,” Astrid replied, closing her eyes in bliss. Mmmm. The treat was taking her back to Des Moines, back to home, back to her mother's little kitchen. “But I wouldn't mind meeting them again.”

--

[itsclydebitches]

Kind of an odd request probably but I like the way you write. A lot. The voices of the characters are so believable. There's a song called "Weeds or Wildflowers" by Parsonfields I think suits Cass and Jesse. Give it a listen and see if you write anything inspired by it? It's cool if not. 💜 I'll always keep reading.

Summary: As kids Jesse and Tulip find something living out in the woods. It calls itself Cassidy. It likes blood and cheap candy. Jesse wants to take it home with him.

Fandom: Preacher

Words: 2,762

Warnings: Blood, feeding 

Pairings: Kid fic so no real pairings, but hinted Jesse/Cass 

Where to Read it: Below the cut or on AO3 (AO3 highly recommended for formatting) 

Erode From Day to Day 

They were so close; so very close to freedom. All the tiny feet clad in sneakers were poised like runners beneath their desks. Arms were straining, hands gripped tight to the edge of their seats, and not a single eye dared to stray from the clock. The only movement was the sneaky packing going on, slow as molasses—impatience lengthening those last five seconds as Mr. Rogan’s eyes narrowed.

“Hey, squirts, hey,” he said. “Settle down now. It’s not the weekend just yet—”

The bell made a liar out of him. The normally shrill annoyance might as well have been a call to arms given how quickly everyone was up and out the door. Mr. Rogan tried valiantly to remind them of the math homework due Monday, problems one through fifteen, but it mostly fell on deaf ears. There was a mob making for the bright, sunny afternoon and nothing could stop them.

Especially not with Jesse Custer leading the charge.

“Swing set!” he called and half the class cheered in response. The others had already turned towards the main doors, looking for parents and guardians to take them home, but Jesse’s group made a sharp right, pushing out onto the playground and flying over the wood-chips. They held tight to their backpack straps, bodies bent in an attempt to gain speed. They were sweaty, multi-colored blurs under the 3:00pm sun.

Past the jungle gym and around the sandbox. The swing set was in sight now—Jesse could nearly feel the hot metal under his palm—when, suddenly, a darker hand came out of nowhere to slap it first.

“Fucking O’Hare,” a kid said in a rare display of true cursing. Everyone collapsed as one, hands on their knees as they tried to get their breath back.

Tulip stood tall though. Her hand was already out and demanding the usual fare. Slowly, the other kids began pulling candy and knick-knacks out of their bags, handing them over. Grudgingly.

“You were closest to the door,” Simon grumbled, knowing the complaint wouldn’t do him any good. Tulip just shrugged.

“And I was all the way in the back last week in Ms. Julie’s class and I still won then. Not my fault all you idiots are so slow.” She wiggled her fingers. Simon deposited a half eaten Milky Way in her palm. “Thank you,” and with a vicious kick Tulip sent up a cloud of dust that had everyone else running, cutting across the playground to the cul-de-sac where parents were waiting to yell at them for being late.

Jesse scowled, threading a hand through the back of his hair. “You always win.”

“Turtle,” Tulip said, poking him in the chest. She started jogging in place. “Cheetah.”

“Yeah well c’mon, wasn’t there something about slow and steady?”

Jesse bent on one knee to pick up all the stuff Tulip was starting to drop. He nearly fell backwards when she bent too and just shoved it all into his arms.

“You can have it,” she said. “I’ve still got all that loot from Maya’s birthday party and besides, aren’t you going to see Him?”

Tulip said Him will all the gravity that a middle schooler could imbue in a word. It was grandiose and inexplicable, like all the years’ snow days rolled into one. Or winning relay day for your whole grade.  Or even finding that shiny, glimmering rock outside and just knowing it was treasure. It was all those things and more, smushed together and made into a person. Something like a person, anyway.

Jesse wouldn’t even think to disagree.

And he could see how Tulip’s hands shook as she re-wrapped the packet of Twizzlers. She wanted to go so badly.

“You went yesterday,” Jesse reminded her.

“I know.”

For a brief moment she bit her lip and Jesse realized, instinctually, that she was thinking about similarities between the three of them: dead parents, dead mom... dead existence. They didn’t really know how to deal with any of that. But they were kids, so they dealt anyway.

“I’ll tell your dad you had to stay behind and clean the chalkboards again, k?”

“K,” Jesse said and they shook on it, three slaps that ended in them linking fingers, pushing and pulling a bit before finishing with a fist-bump. They hauled themselves to their feet and Jesse crammed everything into his backpack.

“Careful,” Tulip said, already jogging away.

Jesse just flapped a hand at her back. “Never!”

She threw out a messy thumbs up. Always needed to have the last word.

Hauling himself in the opposite direction Jesse took off at a run, knowing that he only had so much time when he could be ‘cleaning chalkboards’ before Dad got suspicious. He took only a moment to make sure none of the teachers were sneaking out the back before jumping the small fence surrounding the playground. He landed in the soft dirt of a graveyard.

It wasn’t common, but sometimes people moved to Annville and when they did they had kids to put into the only school—and when they did that the parents inevitably balked at their angels playing next to the dead. Jesse had always liked it though: watching the tombstones crumble and the weeds grow taller each and every year, reading the strange first names attached to the surnames he’d grown up with; digging for bones, risking both the teachers' ire and some sort of ancient curse for disturbing the dead.

Except Jesse never thought of that as a bad thing. If he was dead he’d want someone to disturb him. Wasn’t that more exciting?

"Did you crawl out of the graveyard?"

"What graveyard?"

"The one back there. At the school."

"Nu uh, padre. Never been buried."

"...do you want to be?"

"Why the hell would I want that?"

"You’re dead aren’t you?"

“…am I?”

Jesse drew his hand over the last headstone for something like luck, plunging into the tree-line. It was the only ‘forest’ that he’d ever seen, but he knew it was paltry compared to other parts of the world, the desert encroaching even here and leaving patches of dry, dusty earth amongst the trees. There was enough brush to darken the sky though—hide things that needed hiding—and it took Jesse long, precious minutes to find the path again, finally distinguishable by the empty bag of Cheetos he’d brought last time. With that familiar route under his feet he made good time. He broke into a grin when he found the log.

“Cass,” he whispered, and an ethereal head popped out from the rotten wood.

It had startled Jesse the first time he’d seen it, that pale, bedraggled face; hair matted every which way with mud and leaves. It was something straight out of the B horror movies he and Tulip had snuck into last summer, telling his Dad that they were at the school’s kiddie camp, the kiddie camp that they were helping Dad with the church, and the lazy teenager managing the ticket booth that they’d just forgotten Tulip’s sweater from the previous film. No one ever bothered to check any of those stories.

The movies gave him nightmares, but of course Jesse never told. A month ago he had gone exploring, half to tell himself that there was nothing out there in the woods to scare him... and he'd been proven really, really wrong.

He’d wet himself a little, the first time he’d seen that face.

Now the face was just Cass. He clamored out of the hollow trunk, jeans stiff with grime and a once white shirt long gone grey. For a moment they just stood and stared at one another. Then Cass lifted his head and sniffed the wind like a dog.

“Hiya, Padre,” he said. He didn't blink.

“I’m not a ‘padre’ yet,” Jesse grumbled and began obediently rolling up the sleeve of his shirt. He’d learned quick that it was always better after this. Whatever parts of Cass were scary tended to leave after he’d fed. He was more Cass like... and for that Jesse was willing to pretend that the feeding wasn’t scary all on its own.

Still, he gave an involuntary cry when Cass materialized before him, seeming to move from There to Here with nothing more than a faded blur. Cass did that a lot. Jesse might have thought he was a ghost if he didn’t know better. But oh, he really did.

“Here,” Jesse said, extending his bare arm. Needing no further encouragement Cass latched on, biting deep into the tissue and hovering there, sucking in quick, jerky gulps. Jesse stared open-mouthed at the display. It hurt of course—fuck how it hurt—but this time, like every time, the pain was overshadowed by watching Cass move like a machine; like some horrible puppet twitching on a Master’s strings. It was only when he’d gotten a good number of mouthfuls down that his swaying grew natural, more human-like, and something similar to a blush crawled up into his cheeks. His animal chittering gave way to the happy hums of a kid just being a kid as he enjoyed dessert—and still Jesse stared.

“You’re hurting me!” he shrieked, the thing pinning him to the ground and taking directly from his neck. Jesse got a knee up into his groin—which did absolutely nothing—and grabbed for a loose branch instead, knocking the thing off his chest and into the weeds. It sprawled there, raving and wild until Jesse managed to raise the crucifix he wore around his neck.

A switch flipped. The monster blinked. It smiled.

"...do you really think that's gonna do somethin'?"  

Jesse wouldn’t truly feel the pain until he was back home hours later, with his sleeve pulled down low and lies slipping through his teeth about where he’d been.

Except... this night he wouldn’t be lying. At least he hoped not. Jesse hadn’t told Tulip, but he wanted to bring Cass home with him today. Wanted to grab this strange, frightening thing and drag him straight to their church, praying only that he wouldn’t light up in flames along the way. Jesse would hide Cass beneath his bed every night and whisper any bad dreams he had. He'd sleep easier knowing that at least one monster there was his friend.

“There are Twizzlers too,” he said, like this was any sort of normal conversation. For them it kind of was. Cass finished up with a saner look in his eye, careful to lick away the stray runs of blood curling around Jesse’s arm. They still left rusty rings though. Bracelets he was proud of. When Cass stepped back (feet bare, cold looking) Jesse immediately dumped the loot out between them.

Kit-Kat, Twizzlers, the half eaten Milky Way, and a crushed bag of chips from lunch. There was an equally smashed paper airplane and a yo-yo with a fraying string. Cass poked at it, watching it roll lopsided through the dirt.

“We used to have these too,” he said and Jesse—

“Where are you from?”

Cass stared and grinned until Jesse got it.

“When are you from?”

“When is this?”

“2017.”

He let out a whistle as high and eerie as the wind through a keyhole. “Then I’m old, padre. I’ve got 120 years on you.”

Jesse wondered then how he’d done the math that fast. Jesse needed to know if that was true. Jesse had conflicting thoughts that Cass was both young and old and Jesse—

—knew better than to ask.

“You can have it all,” he said, feeling like those words somehow meant more, as if he hadn’t already brought a fool’s worth of treasure for Cass to play with. It was all piled up in that rotten log, the only things that felt real and tangible around her. Cass himself was sort of smudgy around the edges, like a picture someone got sick of drawing halfway through.

He worked methodically through the offerings though. Because wasn’t that what they were? Jesse had wandered into these woods and found something immense there... and he’d been offering up tributes ever since. Cass fiddled with the yo-yo a little more. He placed the paper airplane in one of the few strands of sunlight that broke through their canopy, inching it there with all the delicacy of a tightrope walker. When he got to the Milky Way he crammed it all at once into his mouth, eyes suddenly blowing wide.

“That good?” Jesse asked.

Cass grinned with caramel teeth. “Yeah. Sure. But there’s blood in it too,” and his eyes went wild again, edging the tattered bite on Jesse’s arm.

And the pain was there: a sharp throb that had him tugging at his sleeve.

Because Jesse remembered what Cass was talking about. Simon had pricked his finger on a picnic table splinter today, the piece of wood going sideways and causing a tiny spout of blood. It had dripped onto his sandwich—two red drops on white bread that made all the kids shriek in disgust—and it had apparently gotten in his chocolate too.

That was what got Jesse to move; the idea of Cass tasting someone else’s blood. Not his. Not Tulip’s. Fucking Simon's.

With a growl he leaned forward and snatched the Twizzlers out of Cass’ hand, mind too wooly to appreciate the surprised, human expression that flit across his face. Settling back in the dirt Jesse pulled out his switchblade with the same jerky movements and drew it sloppily over his arm.

It hurt enough to make the backs of his teeth ache, but who the hell cared? His arm was already a bruised, bloody mess from these daily meetings, and wasn’t it worth it to see that look creeping into Cass’ eyes?

A fool might have called it hunger. Jesse knew it was something closer to love.

“Here,” he said, dipping a Twizzler into the fresh blood and tossing it casually Cass’ way. Like you’d throw a friend a beer. Like you’d scoop cheese onto those fancy crackers. What they had was no different—except that it was better—and Jesse preened a little at seeing Cass gobble him up in two quick bites.

“You’re like a dog!” Jesse howled, amazed and disgusted when Cass relieved himself too close to his boots.

He laughed crazily. “I’m more dangerous than any dog!”

“You’re insatiable,” he said, here and now, and Cass laughed again (was always laughing), his matted hair flying in front of his eyes.

“Tulip teach you that word?”

“Book did. Tulip teaches me four letter words.”

Laughter, longer and louder and Jesse tossed him more blood-coated Twizzlers. He coated all the food in a thin layer of blood until it was gone and then Jesse stood, backlit by the tree’s shadows and feeling uncommonly nervous.

“C’mon,” he said.

Because this is what they did now. He came, Cass drank, he offered things and then he left. There was some boundary between Annville and Cass’ little world that had nothing to do with tree lines or cemetery markers. He didn’t need Jesse’s blood with all the critters about—but he preferred it. He didn’t need cheap candy and toys either—but took them ravenously.

Jesse didn’t need to pull Cass over to his side of the line—but he’d do it anyway.

He held out a hand and Cass just sat there, a mangy cat licking something from the back of his arm. When he was done (tongue papery white, almost iridescent in the red of his mouth) he looked at everything but Jesse before landing his eyes on a small crop of weeds. Cass tugged two out, heedless of the thorns.

“Here,” he said, slapping them into Jesse’s palm. He left his hand there too and hauled himself up. “You gotta protect me from the sun, padre.”

“Told you I’m not a ‘padre.'" Jesse's chest was ballooning up.

“And takin’ me in? Now you probably never will be.”

Maybe it was a lie, maybe not. Either way, Jesse tugged his shirt off and drew it over Cass’ head. He give him too-big boots to protect his feet and they set off together, the half mile to the church feeling unnaturally long.

“Who are you?” Jesse whispered in the dirt, dimly aware that he wasn’t nearly as afraid as he should be.

The monster shrugged. “Cassidy. But... whaddya need me to be?”

Jesse wasn’t sure yet. Something more than this.

On their way out he brushed the bouquet of weeds over the last gravestone. For luck.

Fin.