#sequin dress for girl kid

[clasytrends]

Floral Bridesmaid Dress

This beautiful Floral Bridesmaid Dress features an exquisite floral print that will add a perfect touch of color to your wedding. The lightweight fabric is comfortable to wear and ensures a great fit. Perfect for any elegant outdoor or indoor wedding.

[captainmalewriter]

Miss Pigwin's Journal

Among the myriad of stereotypes surrounding gay men, Ivan never really fit into any of them. He was never the flamboyant queen nor the circuit party gay. Ivan always considered himself to be more of a lone wolf type. Although many would find the life of a social hermit boring and exhausting, Ivan truly didn’t mind his quiet, solitary lifestyle. Just class, work, gym, rinse and repeat. It was a simple routine, but it was one that Ivan loved. 

One evening, after his engineering classes, Ivan made a quick pit stop at the local store before heading back to his apartment. He needed to buy a new journal after he had filled out the last page the night before. Journaling was a hobby that Ivan took very seriously. For the past five or so years, Ivan would take 10 minutes every night to write his complete, unfiltered thoughts in his journal before bed. It was a therapeutic practice for Ivan, and he did not plan to stop anytime soon. 

Ivan was hoping to find a stylish yet relatively cheap journal but was quickly met with disappointment instead as he made his way down the stationary aisle. The store had completely run out of notebooks! A nearby employee told Ivan that the overnight crew would restock the store and that he should return the next day, but he was too determined to give up after having gone through the trouble of walking to the store. He scoured the store until he finally found one misplaced notebook, although its gaudy design left much to be desired…

It was a bright pink journal with glimmering sequins and came with a large bundle of pink ribbon. The journal had an ugly cartoon drawing of a pig in a princess dress along with her name ‘Miss Pigwin’ written in glitter across the top of the cover page. Ivan pulled out his phone and did a quick internet search to find out more about the Miss Pigwin notebook. Apparently, it was limited edition merchandise for some obscure children’s cartoon that never made it past 5 episodes. The idea behind Miss Pigwin was that kids could better understand their pets by helping them communicate with them. Kids were tie a piece of ribbon around an animal, and with Miss Pigwin's help, they would become their best friends. At least that was what the old advertisements promised anyway.

Obviously, the designers meant it to be used for pets like dogs and cats, so it was no wonder the pink journal was quickly discontinued after kids tried to tie ribbons around dangerous, wild animals instead. All in all, it was just cheap scraps of overly decorated paper for imaginative little girls. 

Ivan didn’t care much for the girly pink notebook. However, it was still a notebook at the end of the day, and the $5 price tag was too enticing to give up. He bought it and promptly returned to his apartment where his roommate Jesse was hosting a few of his frat friends over for beer pong. 

Ivan and Jesse were not friends but they were civil enough as roommates. Jesse wasn’t officially a part of a frat yet, but he already had the wild personality of a frat brother anyway. Jesse’s constant partying and drinking was annoying to Ivan, so he often made himself scarce—  as he did that night. He went about his usual nighttime routine and thankfully, by the time he sat down at his desk to journal, all of Jesse’s guests were gone. But just before he could touch pen to paper, Jesse came stumbling into the room.

“Hey, bro, you got any ribbon or string by any chance?” Jesse asked. Ivan hesitated saying yes right away.

“Maybe, what for?” 

“There’s this stupid Tiktok trend going on right now. Dudes are tying a piece of ribbon around their bicep and flexing until it breaks. The bros are saying I need to do every trend I see if I wanna continue rushing.”

“Cool, makes sense. Here, you can have it all. I don’t need it.”

Ivan took the bundle of ribbon that came with the Miss Pigwin journal and helped Jesse tie a piece around his bicep. Although Ivan did not like Jesse in that way, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited as he wrapped the ribbon around his straight roommate’s muscular arm. It was probably the only time he’d be that close to Jesse, so he relished in the moment as much as he could. Once it was tied, Jesse thanked him and left the room to record his Tiktok. Meanwhile, Ivan returned to his journal and began writing. 

March 12th - I am soo fucking h*rny. Sometimes, I wish my roommate would give in to his secret desires and just makeout with me already. 

Just as Ivan finished writing the last letter, a terrifying scream coming from the living room interrupted his journaling session. He quickly ran out with the pink journal in hand and saw Jesse straining himself to break the ribbon. No matter how hard he flexed, the pink ribbon stayed firmly wrapped around his bicep.

Although Ivan was worried about the pink ribbon constricting Jesse's arm, he couldn't help but stare at the massive bulge in his roommate's gray sweatpants. It was huge! Was Jesse hard? Ivan always had a feeling that his straight roommate was packing some serious heat downstairs, but he would've never guessed he'd be that big and thick! Just seeing his bulge was enough to make Ivan's jaw drop!

"Dude is this ribbon made out of fucking titanium or some shit! Where the fuck did you even get this!?" Jesse yelled out in anguish. It was enough to bring Ivan back down to Earth.

"I don't know! It came free with this weird notebook I found."

"Whatever!! Just go get the scissors! This shit's way too tight, my arm's starting to go numb!"

"Right! Hang on, I'll be right back!"

Uh oh!!

Just as Ivan turned around to go get the scissors, a sudden high-pitched voice made him stop dead in his tracks. It was a girl's voice, and it was coming from the notebook in his hands. Ivan looked down and froze from what he saw. The cartoon princess pig had come to life!

Uh oh!! It looks like our new friend isn't being a very good listener! Let's play some music to help clear his mind!

Miss Pigwin began singing a melody while soft piano music played. The music had no effect on Ivan, but it did on Jesse. Jesse suddenly stopped fighting and just laid flat on the floor. Within seconds, he had gone from a pissed off jock trying to rip the ribbon off his arm to eerily calm and relaxed. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled heavily. Jesse had a dazed look in his eyes once he opened them. He had a dull, almost sleepy-like expression plastered on his face too. It was like he was sedated by simply listening to Miss Pigwin's song! Only once Jesse was fully relaxed did Miss Pigwin finally stop the music.

Yayyy!! No more distracting thoughts! Now what did our best friend tell us?

Ivan watched in awe as Jesse got up from the ground while massaging his protruding bulge. His movements were almost mechanical, like a mindless robot following orders. He then began walking towards Ivan while reciting what Ivan had written inside the Miss Pigwin journal.

"I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate. I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate. I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate."

It was incredible. Despite having never read it, Jesse kept repeating what Ivan had written over and over like a personal mantra!

Once Jesse closed the gap between them, Ivan got a good look how dilated his pupils were. It was quite the sight to see, though Jesse didn't give Ivan any time to react. Instead, he quickly joined his lips with Ivan's and kissed him roughly. Ivan was caught off guard by the surprise kiss but quickly matched Jesse's energy as the two kissed like it was their last night being alive. Ivan could hardly believe it. He had gone from merely tolerating his roommate's existence to making out with him in the same night! He felt himself light up with joy and pleasure as Jesse's hairy chest pressed against his with every kiss.

They continued at it for a while, locking lips until they gradually moved towards the couch. From there, they both discarded any remaining clothes they had on. Ivan hopped into Jesse's strong arms and went in for another deep kiss. He was shuddering with anticipation as he felt Jesse's rock hard boner tap against his butt. Luckily for him, it didn't take them much longer until they decided to get into position. Ivan spit onto Jesse's cock to lube it up, then guided it into his hole. A deep, sensual moan escaped his mouth as Jesse slowly thrusted his hips into him. Inch by inch, his dick disappeared into his ass. The room then filled with the sounds of men grunting and heavy, cum-filled balls clapping against Ivan's cheeks. Ivan was in heaven, while Jesse was in a trance with only one thought in his mind. Give into his desires, and makeout with his roommate.

Ivan woke up the next morning feeling like a brand new man after the amazing pounding he had received from Jesse. To say he was in a state of bliss would be a massive understatement! Even just remembering the feeling of Jesse's massive cock inside of him was enough to make Ivan smile with delight. But his grin quickly faded when he reached out for the Miss Pigwin journal and found it wasn't where he had left it before falling asleep. Even worse, he found a piece of pink ribbon had been tied around his wrist while he was sleeping.

"No... Nononono NOO!!"

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty! Looking for something?"

To Ivan's horror, Jesse was holding the Miss Pigwin journal and he looked furious! Although, despite the present danger, Ivan couldn't help but notice that Jesse still had the same ribbon tied around his bicep.

"Hey man... Let's put down the journal, and have a civilized conversation between adults. I promise it's not what it looks like, just let me ex-"

"Nahh FUCK that. I'm glad I woke up just before you did, otherwise I would've never found out what the fuck you did to me with this weird journal. You always gave me weird vibes but this? I... I don't even know where to start I'm so MAD!"

Jesse slammed a fist against the wall, startling Ivan. He then let out a maniacal chuckle as he pulled out a pen and opened the journal.

"Alright, Ivan, you wanna fuck up my mind so badly? Two can play at that game!"

Loud scribbling filled the room. Once he finished, Jesse read out loud what he wrote.

"Ivan's too serious for his own good. He needs to lighten up and join my frat so we can become best bros forever!!"

"...That's stupid. I'm not gonna do that."

"Are you sure?"

Uh oh!!

"I think Miss Pigwin might disagree with-"

Ivan smacked the book out of Jesse's hands, catching him off guard. The journal landed against the wall with a loud thud. Ivan wasted no time making a break for the journal. He bought himself a few seconds by smacking it away from Jesse. Those few seconds were all he needed to open the journal to a new page and write something down. In the heat of the moment, he could only think of one thing to write.

"Jesse's gay 4 me!"

"YOU FUCKER! ERASE THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW!!"

Jesse grabbed the journal but Ivan had a tight grip on it. The two slammed into the nearby walls and furniture as they tried to wrestle it out of the other's hands. The Miss Pigwin journal was getting torn and crumpled up in the crossfire of their fight, but that didn't stop the princess from carrying out her sole purpose.

It looks- New friend- Good listener! Let's- Some music- clear his mind!

Miss Pigwin began singing her soothing song, forcing both men into a hypnotic trance as they listened. They both fell to the ground screaming as the pink ribbons grew tighter around their bodies. They tried plugging their ears with their fingers, but it was already too late. The second they heard the first few notes of her song, Miss Pigwin was already deep within subconscious- ready to broadcast whatever was written in the journal directly into their brains. However, because the journal had gotten destroyed during the fight, Miss Pigwin's subliminal messaging turned out to be incredibly potent than usual.

Ivan fell back against the ground in a daze. He couldn't believe how discombobulated he was. It was like he was trapped underwater as he felt his mind beginning to clear of any and all thoughts. Ivan let out a heavy sigh as a powerful, cool calm filled his body. Soon enough, the only thing he could think about was how badly he wanted to become a frat bro just like Jesse. Ivan repeated his new life mantra to himself as his mind became hyper focused on only one goal.

"I need to lighten up... I need to join a frat... I need to become best bros with Jesse..."

A lot of his engineering knowledge got wiped away from his mind to make room for his new personality. Mathematics and physics were replaced with workout regimes and a strong, itching need to drink and get laid. The partying lifestyle of the frat bro that once repulsed Ivan became as normal as breathing to the former homebody gay man. Ivan tried resisting against Miss Pigwin's conditioning. He tried reminding himself how much he loved a quiet night at home by himself. He tried recalling how much he hated loud, obnoxious men who did nothing but party and drink all night. But everytime he tried fighting against it, the little voice repeating his mantra grew louder and louder until all opposition was completely stamped out. Ivan had been reborn.

As he rose from the ground with an altered conscience and personality, the only thing on Ivan's mind was how to maximize his gains the next time he hit the gym. After all, how could he even dare to show his face around his frat brothers if he couldn't keep up with them in terms of bodybuilding?

Meanwhile, Jesse laid out sprawled on the ground as a calm stupor washed over his aggravated mind. Soon enough, his mind became a quiet place where only one thought remained.

"I'm gay for Ivan... I'm gay for Ivan... I'm gay... For Ivan..."

Jesse repeated the same sentence to himself until the words no longer felt foreign leaving his mouth. Soon enough, saying he was gay for Ivan felt as natural as saying his name. His desires to sleep with women melted away from his subconscious everytime he recited his new mantra.

Like Ivan, Jesse tried fighting against it. He tried remembering the taste and feel of a woman's touch, but it was no use against Miss Pigwin's powerful conditioning. His memories of being with women were quickly fading. In their place, a deep, profound love for his roommate-turned-loved began to take hold. Within minutes, Jesse wanted nothing more in life than to stand by his boyfriend's side and make sure he felt loved.

Once Ivan and Jesse woke up to their new personalities, Miss Pigwin finished her song, never to be heard from again due to the journal being in tatters. Jesse woke up with a headache and with a grinning Ivan by his side.

"Good morning my handsome boyfriend, how'd you sleep?"

"Amazing because I slept with you, my love." Jesse joined his lips against Ivan's. The two shared a deep kiss filled with passion, ending with a loud smack when they finally pulled apart.

"You ready for today? I can't wait to start the rushing process, then we can join together!" Ivan flashed a wide smile. Jesse wrapped his hands around Ivan's neck.

"The frat can wait till later. Right now, I want you all to myself."

He pulled Ivan in for another kiss. The two men then proceeded to fuck all morning, completely unaware of the strange circumstances that led them to that point. All thanks to a little princess pig on the cover of a bright pink notebook.

[shehungthemoon]

Bucktommy Fic prompts: first vacation or snowy cabin vibes

first 118 bbq

Buck rescues a kitten from a tree and keeps it #catdads

Buck telling Tommy he was a sperm donor with zero context like ‘oh yeah biologically I have a kid’ and walking off leaving Tommy like ???

First Christmas together

Idk if it’s your vibe but something relating to the ring cutter?

Babysitting jee

Tommy realising ‘random facts with Buck’ is a thing

Flying lessons

Sorry I have a lot of thoughts and zero ability to write lollll

Oh, anon. I saw "babysitting jee" and could not get the image of Tommy looking at dollar store kids coloring books out of my head. And here we are 🖤

"Are you sure you're okay with it?" Buck asked into his phone, balancing it in between his shoulder and ear as he unpacked his locker for the night. "It's just that Tommy and I don't really get a lot of time to see each other with our schedules and everything, and—"

"Buck," Chim interrupted, "Yes I'm sure. I've known Tommy longer than you have, unless you've somehow forgot that since the last time you begged me for old, embarrassing photos of the man."

"Yeah yeah," Buck mumbled, "I know I know, sorry." Chim made a satisfied hum. Buck finished zipping up his bag. "Bet I know him better though."

Chimney started squawking indignantly over the phone. Buck grinned into his chest.

So, Buck invited Tommy to come babysit Jee with him that night, nervous the whole time he typed the text.

-i know it's not really a great date setting

He typed after he sent the initial message.

-totally ok to say no

He was stupid to be nervous. The reply came almost immediately.

-Are you kidding? I've been waiting to meet that girl ever since Chimney sent me those first pictures.

-Of course I'll be there

---

Tommy met him at Buck's door with a sweet grin and a bunch of coloring books in his hand. Buck couldn't do anything but stare at him for a moment and smile back.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Buck wondered if those butterflies in his stomach would ever go away. When Tommy leaned forward and pressed a gentle, quick kiss onto his lips, Buck came to the conclusion that there was no possible way they ever would.

"I brought these," Tommy said as he walked into the apartment, shaking the coloring books in the air and looking just a little bashful about it. "Didn't want to show up empty handed but I figured wine wasn't the right call for the venue."

Buck chuckled and shut the door behind him. "You definitely figured right." He pointed over toward the media area. "Wanna meet the star of the show?"

Tommy grinned. "More excited to see her than you, really."

Buck scoffed with feigned-offense and pinched Tommy's arm before moving his hand to the small of Tommy's back, pressing him gently toward where Jee was set up in front of his couch.

Jee looked up from her toys with wide eyes when they came into view. "Hey hey, princess, I got someone for you to meet!" Buck held his free hand out to point at his boyfriend. "This is Tommy. Tommy, this is Jee-Yun." She kept still in contemplation and made a humming noise up at them.

Tommy crouched down and gave her a little wave, and Buck would have laughed at the sight of such a big man making himself so small if it weren't the most endearing thing he'd seen in ages.

"Hi Jee-Yun. It's really nice to meet you," Tommy said with a quiet voice Buck'd never heard before. Jee just kept staring over at him with blinking, assessing eyes. "I really like your sparkly dress," he continued, and that seemed to do it. Jee broke out into a wide, squinty-eyed smile and let out one of those little kid laughs that melted hearts.

"Sequins," Jee said brightly; or at least tried to say, there was definitely an 's' sound in there somewhere.

The floor became their home for the next few hours, Jee happily adjusting to her new friend and toddling between the two of them, carting markers and dolls and pieces of Goldfish back and forth across the carpet. The two of them got easily talked into playing Barbies for one memorable twenty minute stretch, in which Buck learned quite a few things about Tommy's sense of fashion.

"You can't put those rain boots on Tiffany when she's wearing that dress, they don't go at all," Buck said contemptuously.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Why not? There's yellow in the belt." He squinted and held Tiffany up a little closer to his face. "Sort of."

Buck groaned painfully. "They're way to clunky for that outfit! And it's not even raining, Tommy! Why would she be wearing rain boots?"

Tommy blinked at him for a second before slowly tilting his head up toward the ceiling. Of his very-much-indoors living room. Buck groaned louder.

Jee solved the problem easily by shoving the rain boots onto Tiffany's arms and yelling out Gloves! Buck was a little miffed he didn't think of that first.

Dolls, juice-box breaks, Buck chasing Jee around the first floor making firetruck sounds and sending Tommy into stitches from where he was still sprawled in front of the TV—the evening passed all too quickly and with more laughing than either of them had done in weeks. Which of course meant that by the time that Maddie and Chimney texted that they were going to be heading back soon, both grown men were beyond pooped and covered in more sticky substances than was probably recommended by most health codes. Jee had not decided to take it easy on the new guy, that's for sure.

Buck had handed a squirming Jee over to Tommy a bit ago while he got his niece's stuff all organized back together in her bag. By the time he'd gotten the rest of her leftover snacks out of the fridge and made a passable effort at tidying up the counters, the excitable sounds of Tommy and Jee's earlier conversations had died down and Buck decided it was about time he headed over to check up on them.

He was greeted with the sight of the two of them tucked into the couch, Jee set up on Tommy's lap with one of her new coloring books in her hand and an assortment of markers wedged into the crook of Tommy's bent knee in easy reach beside her. She was quietly and happily plugging away at one of the drawings—a startlingly pink giraffe, Buck thought he could make out—scribbling nonsensically across the page with an intently closed fist. Tommy had an arm resting along one of her sides to keep her from falling off, but the man himself was very much not paying too much attention anymore. His head was lolled back against the cushion, eyelids fluttering as he caught a few needed minutes of rest. Buck wasn't worried; he knew by the way Tommy's finger was still drawing lazy shapes along the frills of Jee's sparkly dress that Tommy'd be awake and aware in an instant if she needed him.

Buck stole a moment to just stand there and watch without either of them noticing. He took it in.

Tommy. His boyfriend. With a baby tucked happy against his chest.

Unbelievably small compared to him yet being held with all the gentleness in the world. His boyfriend and his niece. Both safe and content, on his couch.

Something tugged warm and tight behind Buck's ribs. The feeling almost toppled him over, dragged the breath from his lungs, love, pride, want.

He could have been sick with it.

He quietly padded over and lowered himself onto the cushion next to them before he could get too overwhelmed. He couldn't help himself. He leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss against where he knew Tommy's dimple was, and soon enough felt Tommy's smile underneath his lips.

"You having a good time there, Jee?" Buck asked quietly, pulling back just enough to see her. She twisted around to nod empathetically up at him.

"Uncle Tommy got me a jungle," she said, holding her booklet up with a grin, and Buck let out a surprised noise.

"Uncle Tommy, huh?" He teased, poking Tommy in the ribs and looking at him fondly. Tommy swatted his hand away and then grabbed his fingers before he could retreat too far, and Buck let him tug him in close and rest their now tangled hands against his side. Buck settled in sideways against the back of the couch and tried to push down the fondness bubbling up inside him before it burst.

"She said it earlier," Tommy said, brow furrowed just a bit. Buck wanted to press it out with his thumb. "It felt mean to correct her." Buck just hummed and squeezed his hand until he'd relaxed back into the couch again.

Tommy let him rest his forehead against his shoulder, and the three of them whiled away the next quarter hour laughing at Jee's animal noises and picking crazy colors for tigers and monkeys and toucans.

Maddie and Chimney showed up before for too long, greeting Tommy with just as much warmth as they did Buck, especially after they saw just how adamant Jee was about hanging off of Tommy's calf and not letting him go even in the face of Goldfish bribes.

Maddie and Chimney finally got her detached with the promise of an extra bedtime story, and in a flurry of side-hugs and handshakes and little versions of such for Jee, they said their goodbyes. Tommy waved them out the door with an arm around Buck's shoulders.

They stumbled up to bed that night too tired for much else other than sleep, Buck's heart skipping a beat in his chest every time he caught Tommy's eye or felt him brush against him as they moved around the loft. Tommy's strong arms wrapped around him as they drifted off. Buck pressed himself hard back into Tommy's chest and fell asleep to the feeling of feather-light kisses pressed against the back of his neck and a heart beating alongside his own.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Maniac

Ex!Aemond Targaryen x Reader + Rebound!Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Not everyone can take the pressure of being involved with a Targaryen. Beyond the heat the media give the powerful family, there was the heat of those in power within the house that stood between everything. This is what lead to Aemond letting you go and Daemon swiping you up.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: modern au, fem!reader, mention/depiction of sex, old money!targaryren, smoking, drinking, eternally smug!daemon, eternally annoyed!aemond, typos, etc.

A/N: this is a poll decided pairing (: . idk i thought of this plot while vibing to maniac by conan gray Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @lxdyred

"Hey puppy," I coo as I jog up to the door and cup Aemond's face. I pepper him with kisses before wrapping my arms around him, "how was work?" He looks at me, grabs my wrists, pulls my arms away, and speaks my name. I raise a brow, "Aemond?" "I'm breaking up with you."

The bass in the venue thumps in my ribcage. I hop around with the sea of people to the beat of some obscure EDM song. I throw my head back and cheer. I sway my hips after downing the contents of my cup.

I nearly gag as I burp. I wipe my lips as I still for a moment to get my bearings.

Fuck. If he knew, Aemond would be so-

I growl when I catch myself in the middle of that thought. I mess my already messed hair up and crush my plastic cup.

No, no. Fuck Aemond.

I shirk when the bodies around me begin to get too close for comfort. Time to get out of here.

I weave through the crowd, glad the sequins of my fitted red dress wasn't getting snagged into anyone's clothing. As I squeeze through a group of girls, I catch a face from the corner of my eye. His burning blonde hair looked pink under the lights; still, he was unmistakable, and it seemed so was I, judging by how he raises his glass to me after we lock eyes.

I look away. How dare he act so familiar?

I turn back to him. He beckons me over with a head tilt.

I scoff. Fuck you. How dare you tell me what to do after all the shit you put me though?

I take a split second to debate whether or not I want to deal with him tonight. It's probably going to be horrible if I do, and yet, my feet are taking me straight into the eye of the storm.

That was, until the bouncer in the VIP section blocks me.

I look up at him and blink, "hi."

"No sneaking in, love," he mutters.

"Let her through, Sandor," a voice calls, making the said man look over his shoulder and turn back to me. He steps away and unhinges the stanchion, motioning with his head.

I walk through, smile, and nod, "thank you, Sandor."

Sandor ignores me and goes back to his post.

"Hello, baby girl," the blonde says from the bar he's leaned on.

I sit down on the stool next to him and grimace, "hello, bastard."

He shifts on his elbow, "I'll have you know Rhaenyra's children have been legitimized following her marriage to Strong."

I pretend to hum in intrigue as I place my crushed cup next to his martini glass.

"But of course, you wouldn't know that because you were too sick to attend the wedding," he tilts his head, "or so Aemond says."

I shrug, "Aemond and I broke up."

"A mutual break up?" he quirks his brows, "I doubt that. What'd he do?"

I narrow my eyes at him, "what do you mean?"

"Oh come on," he waves a hand, "you wouldn't let me touch that kid with a 6 foot pole. What? Did he fuck your sister? Think it was you?"

I cringe, "that's something more on brand for you, Daemon."

"I'll have you know, I have perfect eyesight," he takes his glass, "my nephew however..."

I glare at him.

Daemon sniggers before he sips his drink, "see. Even now you're on his side."

I lick my lips in annoyance, "I'm not on his side."

"Worry not, darling," he turns and motions to the bartender, "the wraith is awfully attached to you." The bartender walks over. "You'll at least see him grovel and beg for you-- a cosmo," he turns to me, "right?"

I clench my jaw then shrug.

Daemon turns back to the bartender and nods. The bartender mutters 'you got it' before walking off.

"He broke up with me."

Daemon takes his glass but sets it down before he even takes a sip.

I look at him and feel irritation rise up my throat. I cough it out with a- "is that really so hard to imagine?"

He tilts his head, "I'm confused. You want me to think this makes sense?"

"I want you to remember how you laughed when Aemond's dad called me a bootlicking bimbo-"

Daemon chortles immediately.

"- and how you always remarked on the dresses I wore whenever I was around. Aemond's grandpa ended up giving me shit for it!"

"Woah," Daemon wheezes, "okay. Otto is a true cunt, to you especially, but can you blame me? You truly are distracting in those dresses, darling." He motions to my body.

I jump off my seat and shove his shoulder, "fuck you, Daemon. He called me a harlot when he thought I wasn't looking."

The next second, I'm walking away fuming, but the sniggering moron stands and grabs my arm, "look. It's funny because it's stupid."

I whip my head back and yank my arm away, "fuck you!"

"Why are you so bothered by what Viserys and that old fuck think anyway?" he gives a lopsided smile that didn't reach his eyes, "it's not-"

"Why would I care about what my boyfriend's father and grandfather think of me?!"

"Ex," Daemon shakes his head and rolls his eyes, "and you and I both know it's not true."

"It's true to them," I point to nowhere as I feel my eyes water at the memory.

"It's really not," he mutters, digging his hand in the inner pocket of his coat, " 's just some shit they said cos they're pissed."

I turn away from him and tilt my head back, fanning my face as I refused to shed a tear, especially in front of him.

Daemon watches and places a cigarette between his lips, "I know big brother didn't like the fact he couldn't find a reason to hate you."

I clench my jaw as I glare at Daemon.

He pulls out a lighter and opens it. The stick in the corner of his mouth wiggles as he speaks, "he had plans to match Aemond with a Baratheon girl."

A line forms between my brows.

He lights his stick and takes a deep swig of nicotine. Smoke comes out of his nose and mouth, making my face contort further. Daemon then swipes his thumb on the crinkle on my forehead, "trust me, Baratheons are boorish."

I feel my lips quiver.

Aemond told me not to worry about her.

I feel like my insides were being ripped out.

Don't you do it. Don't you dare fucking cry over-

"Baby girl-"

"Don't you fucking call me that, asshole," I hiss as saltwater begins to pour from my eyes.

Daemon feels immensely uncomfortable, "want a puff?"

I begin to feel my eyes burn because of my makeup.

I have to get out of here.

He sighs and rubs the tears off my skin before turning to the bar where the Cosmo was just placed. "If you're gonna cry over Targaryen," he mutters as he pulls out his wallet and settles his bill. He turns back to me, handing me he drink.

I do not get it from him and he sighs again as he places it down. I cringe at the smell of his smoke. He continues, "wouldn't it be better if it was because of my dick?"

My face contorts.

He draws in another deep breath and pulls the stick out of his mouth using two fingers.

"Fuck you, Daemon," I growl before turning away.

"My place then?" he follows after.

Daemon follows me outside.

I am booking a ride home on my phone

"Oh, don't be boring," he snatches the object and places it over his head.

"Daemon!"

"Don't worry," he looks up and cancels my order, "I already called one."

"Give it back!"

"Oh, come on, you want to wallow in your self-pity or have it fucked out of you?" he offers, "besides, the car will be here in five."

My eye twitches, "how is that even possible?!"

"Shortcuts, babes," he mutters as he bites his cigarette and adjusts it in his lips. He tilts his head, "you make a shortcut for a ride, put it on your homescreen, give it a push-- gods, maybe you are a bimbo."

I grunt and snatch his cigarette and put it out on his chest. He yelps and pulls back as it surely burned through his shirt.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I fake-pout, "I thought you were done with that."

Daemon glares at me as he brushes his shirt off, "oh, you want to mark me, do you, little girl?"

"I don't want-" the words retreat into my mouth when he marches over and I find myself pushed against the streetlight. His arms are on my sides, hands gripping the pole behind me.

"Don't want what?" Daemon leans in, close enough that I can smell the cigarette smoke and the cologne on him. It was an overpowering smell.

I feel my body warm as he laughs at my silence.

"You know, I always knew you'd burn Aemond's fingers. I just didn't know he'd pussy out and let go if you got too hot."

Daemon looks past me and leans back, taking my hand as a car pulls up, "I happen to bask in dragon fire."

"How original."

I let him drag me back to his place. I let him get under my skin, into me. The night was filled with spiteful remarks, mocking laughs, and rough kisses, but it was also surprisingly filled with whispered praises, reassuring touches, and unbroken promises of pleasure.

It was no competition though, and in the first place, I should not have been comparing one or the other. It was an unfortunate reflex as of late. And it was easy for my mind to think him when his uncle's hair fell on his face almost the same way his did.

Gods they even said the same shit, it was fucking with my head.

I ended up saying Aemond instead of Daemon at one point, and spent what felt like hours being punished for the mistake.

It was clear, twice that after it was rectified by Daemon, he wasn't Aemond. He was nothing like him. Daemon was a good fuck but we didn't do it in his bedroom. He didn't want to hold me after, nor did he make an effort to clean me (or himself) up. He called me good girl but didn't say I love you, for obvious reasons. He made my flesh sting but made no efforts to soothe. And when he marked my skin and called me his, I didn't feel like I belonged, I felt like I was owned.

He did leave me tired in his guestroom before getting up to sleep in his own bed. But I was not tired enough to resist the itch of getting on the internet the moment I woke up. I felt like I was on autopilot as my fingers moved.

I had to hold back a sound when I saw Floris Baratheon's post of her in the Targaryen estate's garden. I shudder at the caption. Luncheon date my ass.

Oh gods.

I could feel tears building up as I opened a browser and looked up Targaryen and Baratheon.

Relationship?

My heart was pounding. I sit up and push the sheets off me while I scroll through article after article.

"Oh, good," the door creaks, "you're up. Are you the one that's allergic to nuts or was that someone else entirely?"

I look up at Daemon as he peeks through the door of his guest room. His hair is damp, signifying a fresh shower. He walks in when I full on break into a sob. He curses then blurts, "does something hurt? Do you need something?"

"Aemond is with Floris?"

He stops in his tracks, "what?"

I drop my phone and retreat under the covers, "he told me he never even spoke to her, and now they're together?"

Daemon purses his lips then sucks in a breath, propping his hands right above the band of his red boxers, "right," he rubs his bare belly, "you want breakfast or not? Should I use almond milk? It's the only thing I got."

"FUCK YOU!" I growl and chuck a pillow at him.

The pillow misses Daemon by a mile and he stares at it as it flies off to the side. He turns back to me then wipes his nose, "fine. I'm putting the almond milk," he walks off, raising a finger, "also, I have work in an hour. If you stay, know your dress is on the couch. My cleaning lady might do something with it though."

Daemon's bare feet tingle against the cold tiles of the penthouse. He sniffles and turns on the fireplace with a remote before heading back to the kitchen.

One of the few things he could actually cook was oatmeal, and he was pretty good at it, if he did say so himself.

He furrows his brows when he hears the telltale button sounds of the front door. He turns to the digital clock on the wall and wonders if the cleaning lady was coming in early today.

Daemon is pulling out some fruit from the fridge when he hears a rather unwelcomed voice call out to him, "good morning, Uncle." Or should he say welcomed?

He looks at the him, unable to hold back his smirk, and sets down the things on the counter, "fancy a bowl of oats, Aemond?"

"Father instructed me to get the Harrenhal files from you."

Daemon chews on a raspberry as he mixes the pot of oats, "that's the longest no I've ever heard."

Aemond watches Daemon grab two bowls. He shakes his head, "I've already eaten."

" 'S not for you, darlin'," he retorts as he turns the stove off and pour the content.

In that moment, Aemond looks around and spots a glimmering dress on the couch. He involuntarily thinks it looks familiar but thinks little of it as he turns back to Daemon, "I didn't realize you had company."

Daemon snorts, "she's a feisty one. You'd know about that, right?"

Aemond does not react as his uncle grins.

He points to his chest, "burnt me with my own cigarette," he smirks, but it doesn't last. "Also, tell your old man if he asks the cleaning lady for my passcode again, I'm breaking his teeth."

"I'm just here for the Harrenhal files."

Daemon eyes Aemond before pouring the food into the bowl, "why? I'm coming to the meeting with it in an hour."

The latter tilts his head, "father mentioned you got into an argument and thought you might not show."

"So," the former puts the pot down with much more force than necessary, "he had his son break into my house?"

"I was going to wake you if you were asleep."

"And if I wasn't here?" Daemon leans on the counter.

Aemond shrugs, "I'd look for it myself."

Daemon is about to burst into a fit of High Valyrian curses up until his name is called out. Him and Aemond turn to the side.

"I showered in your bathroom and now I'm stealing your shit!" I call out as I rub my hair with a towel I found in his guestroom.

I look at my puffy eyes and purple neck marks in the mirror in his bedroom and hear Daemon call out, "what shit?!"

I go through his closet and grab a the first shirt I spot, "your watch!"

I vaguely hear him chuckle, "I don't have watches in my bedroom-

"Pity," I mutter under my breath.

"- but feel free to get whatever clothing you want!"

A generous statement, Aemond thinks. He used to watch his uncle bring back different women all the time when he still lived at the estate with them. He never once was like this though. He watches Daemon as he chuckles. He finds it immensely bizarre that his uncle seems so giddy. He's beckoned by him again, "sure you don't want a bowl, wraith?"

Aemond grumbles at the nickname, he always hated it, and merely clenches his jaw.

He shrugs, "suit yourself."

"Will you give me the files or not, Daemon?"

Daemon looks at him before grabbing two spoons from the drawer, "fine. Want them so bad? I'll give them to you."

"Thank you," he mutters in relief.

"Why don't you take a seat, scarecrow," Daemon adds, "you're going to spook the girl."

Aemond rolls his eyes as he moves over to the living space. He sits on the one sofa chair and eyes the red dress across him for a moment. He then looks out the window before pulling out his phone.

Daemon watches his nephew walk off. He holds back a laugh as he turns back to the oatmeal. He practically combusts with excitement when he hears shuffling from the left.

He looks up at me as I walk over to him.

"Morning, baby girl," Daemon coos and crosses his arms, "my stolen shirt suits you."

Aemond clears his throat involuntarily upon hearing this. He couldn't have whispered? He fishes for his earpods in his pocket and curses himself for not bringing it.

My eyes take in how Daemon's chest bulged. He takes in my puffy eyes as I retort, "want it back? You look cold."

Aemond finds himself eyeing the dress again after hearing that. Why does her voice sound like that?

Daemon lips quirk. He grabs the shirt I was wearing and pulls me toward him. I collide with his chest and his hand slips under the fabric, "naughty girl. You'd offer such a thing when you're not even wearing underwear?"

This is definitely not something Aemond signed up for.

I raise a brow at Daemon, "when did you become such a prude?"

He chuckles and places a hand on my shoulder. His thumb rubs the marks he left on my neck, "you want me to fuck you the counter?"

Right. Aemond stands from the couch and turns to Daemon, "just tell me where the file is and I'll get it myself."

I jolt and grab at Daemon upon hearing that.

Daemon breaks into a laugh.

I whisper-yell, "there's someone here?!"

Daemon pushes my hair back as he hears the sound of footsteps approaching. He looks over his shoulder, "actually, now that I think about it, I think the Harrenhal files are in the file cabinet in my office."

Aemond's fury blazes then dissipates in an instant. He is frozen in his spot when he locks eyes with me.

My body has a rather instant reaction to him. My mouth watered as though I was about to vomit. My hold on Daemon is released.

Aemond's mind was racing as he eyes my appearance. His throat constricts, eye almost flinching as he notices my pert nipples and the dark hues across my neck.

Daemon is the only one not petrified. He rubs my side before pulling away to get his bowl of oats. He eats a spoonful before muttering to Aemond, "it's in the bottom drawer, methinks."

Aemond completely ignores this, eyes fixed on me, "what the fuck are you doing here?"

Daemon raises a brow, "don't think that's any of your business."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I rebut.

Aemond scoffs, "what am I doing in my uncle's home?"

I scoff too, "it's not like you two were ever close, Aemond."

Daemon looks between us as he eats, "this is really good."

"So what?!" Aemond barks, "you're fucking him to get back at me?! A rather pitiful play on revenge, don't you think?"

The ferocity of his tone stabs through my chest. He was never one to raise his voice, and hearing his voice was already painful as it is. I am glad I have the wits to snark back, "why would I need to get back at you? You've been nothing to me for the past two months. I'm doing this because I want to."

Daemon licks his lips as he unabashedly chuckles.

Aemond clenches his fists.

I begin to heave heavily.

The longest of moments pass.

Daemon catches the way I begin to falter. He pushes the other bowl of oatmeal towards me, "eat before it gets cold."

I turn to Daemon after grabbing the bowl. I immediately stuff my mouth. I meant to give a really exaggerated reaction, but I find myself momentarily distracted by how genuinely good the oatmeal tasted. I mumble, "... this is really good."

Daemon smiles, "it is, isn't it?"

I tense when Aemond calls out my name.

Daemon's smile disappears as he turns to his nephew.

"Let's talk about it outside," Aemond mutters.

Daemon scoffs, "if she wanted to talk to you outside, she'd have said so by now, don't you think?"

"This has nothing to do with you, Daemon," Aemond rebuts.

I flinch when Daemon drops his bowl carelessly on the counter and straightens up, "this has everything to do with me. She went home with me; she's in my house, wearing my shirt, being demanded things by my stupid nephew, who, by the way, is now leaving."

"She's my ex-girlfriend," Aemond's neck strains. He steps forward.

"Yes, she was your girlfriend and now she wants nothing to do with you-- get out!"

The decay of Daemon's loud voice merely intensifies the tension in the room. I cannot express the relief I felt at the sound of withdrawing footsteps. I let out a sigh when I hear the door bang shut and bury my face in my hands.

Daemon shifts in his place and looks down at me, "pretty satisfying, no?"

"WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU TELL ME AEMOND WAS HERE?!" I explode and attack him with punches.

[hoe4sports]

“You look like me”

Jenni Hermoso x Alexia Putellas x reader Child

A/N: Jenni never left Barca. This is a series. Spanish is always google translate. No triggers.

Mami was desperately trying to get you ready for the day, but you couldn’t sit still. You were bouncing off the walls with excitement as you waited for Alexia. Alexia had promised you to take you to the toy store and the local ice cream shop without mami, and you were beyond excited. It was almost like the things Mami and Alexia did! “Princesa, you have to try to sit still” Mami sighted as she tried to brush your long hair for the 10th time. “Lo siento, Mami, so excited” you sang as your little legs dangled from the chair that Mami had placed in the bathroom for you to sit on. Your hands touched the skirt of your dress, it was pink, glittery and had sequins; all the things that together made the recipe of a very happy little girl. “And done! What do you think, amor?” Mami said as she held your hands to stand up infront of the mirror. Your jaw dropped and your eyes widened. “Wow! Mami! Es fantástico!” You said as your touched your little half updo with the pink elastics. “Es perfecta” you say as your eyes is entranced in your reflection. “You are my favourite girl in the world, amor, mami loves you so so much” Mami said as she picked you up and held you tight to her chest. She would do that from time to time, holding you close for a little while without saying a word. This had happened for the first time the morning she had woken up to your screams as a new born, her spouse nowhere to be seen only to pick you up as she found a note downstairs saying family life wasn’t for her. That was when she stopped caring about girls and drinks and parties; life was only about her little girl now. Her world withing her hands.

You breathed in mami’s familiar scent and listened to her heart beat only to be disrupted by the sound of someone entering downstairs. “Jenni, mariquita! I’m here!” She called as you shot your head up to look at Mami. “Mami, Mami! Es Tia!” You said as you wiggled loose and bolted towards the hall and the stairway. You giggled as you ran, your hair flying in the wind and your giggles roaming around the hall. “Mamma, mamma!” You yelled as you jumped down the stairs and straight into Alexia’s arms. The words mamma meant so much to her. She didn’t ever imagine wanting kids, but when she met Jenni; she had fallen in love with both her and you. Mami just didn’t know it yet. Alexia had helped raise you, and it felt natural and completely platonic to call her mamma. That was what Ingrid called her mami back when you met her and her mamma told you that she would read her bedtime stories, take her to football and give her kisses, and that had to be a good thing. You jumped into Alexia’s arms. “I’m excited” you said with a shyness in your voice. “Well, I am excited to spend time with my favourite girl in the whole world!” Alexia exclaimed while stroking your hair gently as she smiled down to you. “Let’s go to the car, si?” Alexia said as you took her head and walked out, Mami following close behind. “I’m just gonna take out her car seat, it’s pretty eas-“ mami begun as she unlocked your big suv Lexus. “No need” Alexia said as she opened up the backseat door to her car. “alexia, she needs a carse-“ Mami said as she shook her head slightly scared. “Wow! A seat! For me? Pink mami, it’s pink” you squealed as you looked at the car seat in the back of Alexia’s car and jumped up into it. “I love it mami!” You said as you slipped into it and giggled. “A special seat for a special girl” Alexia said as she smirked and looked at Jenni. “Alexia, you are absolutely spoiling her. You didn’t have too! I could get one for your car” Mami said as she crossed her arms and looked at Alexia. Alexia was busy buckling you in, and when the belt snapped together like it was supposed to; she turned around to look at Mami. “I’m in this for the long haul”

—-

“And here we are mariquita, are you ready?» Alexia said as you pulled up to the toy store. It was huge. It had pretty lights and so many colors. You could see huge toy sculptures in the front of the store. It looked magical. It was fantastic! “Yes mamma! It has pretty lights” you said as you beamed in the car seat. Alexia smiled while looking at you in the rear view mirror and unbuckled herself before getting out and helping you out. She loosened the buckle and reached for your hand as you jumped down, your little sandals with blinkers going crazy. You walked together towards the store, which was huge in comparison to your 3,5 year old frame. Your hand grabbed Alexia’s hand extra tight when you entered through the door, and she looked down on you lovingly. “Carry me?” You said as you bit your lip, a bit overstimulated with the whole situation. Just like a mother would, Alexia immediately picked you up and placed you on her hip. When she held you, nothing felt scary anymore. It was safe. Warm. And familiar.

“Wow, look at mirabell!” You squealed as you saw mirabell from Encanto. Alexia smiled and looked at the direction you were pointing towards. Together you walked through endless oceans of bouncy balls, Barbies, baby born, cars, swords, game and little houses with little people in. As she walked around carrying you tightly, scared to death of losing the most important thing in her life; your eyes caught a familiar doll. “Mamma, mamma! It’s Moana!” You shouted as you wiggled down from her grip and bolted towards the big isle of toys. “Woah” you said as your eyes were sparkling while looking up at all the boxes. “Is this what you want mariquita?” she said as she looked at the big selection of toys. You nodded as you were still in awe. “Can I have it? With Moana and Heihei and Maui and te fiti and her papi?” you asked as you were staring at the big box of figurines. “Of course, you can get anything you want, mariquita » she said reassuringly. She reached for the box that was high up on a shelf before you headed towards the exit to pay. She carried you out to the car, and got you all buckled in; safe and sound before heading towards the ice cream shop.

You were skipping next to her when she pointed to the ice cream shop. “Look mariquita, there it is!” She said as she looked down on you. You giggled and jumped with joy as you pulled her along as fast as you could possibly move. The bell of the door rang when you entered the shop. It was bright and colorful with sprinkles on the walls. It had nice happy music and the smell was magical. It smelled like a strawberry soft serve with strawberry sauce and fresh cut strawberry. Your feet felt energised as you looked over all the flavours in the display. Alexia picked you up so you could see the ice cream. “Strawberry, chocolate, vanilla, banana, orange..Bubblebum!” You say as you point to each flavor. “You are so so smart princesa, you impress me every day. Now, do you know what flavour you want?” She said as she looks at you with awe. “Yes, mamma, si! I do know!” You squeal as you are being called to the front desk to order. “Hola princesa! Qué te gustaría pedir?” The older woman sayid making you giggle. Mami had made sure to speak both Spanish and English, just in case you were to move abroad making the transition easier. “Por favor, puedo tomar helado de fresa?” You say as you smile towards the woman while pointing towards the pink mixture still safe on Alexia’s hip. “Por supuesto! quiere algo señora?» the woman says as her hand is scribbling quick. “helado de chocolate por favor” Alexia responds as the lady gestures for Alexia to pay and she taps her debitcard on the machine.

“Mamma, I love strawberry ice cream, thank you so so much!” You squeal as you dip your spoon into the pink ice cream happy as ever. "Taste mamma!" you say as you shove the spoon into Alexia’s face who willingly leta you. "mmmm, it's very good" she says as she carefully wipes your face on the napkin. “Taste? Pleeeeease” you say as you give her your best puppy eyes. Alexia laughs as she strokes your cheek before offering you a taste of her chocolate ice cream. “Mmm, mamma, gracias, it’s yummy” you say as you lick your lips. An older mysterious woman drops her bag forcing all her coins to fall out of her grip. Your eyes widen as you let out a shocked sound before you wiggle down and start picking up all the coins. You look over at the woman as you hand her the coins and she smiles warmly to you. “Thank you princesa” she says as she touches your hand. Alexia instinctively has a hand on your shoulder and decides that to pick you up is the safest as she was feeling like you are safest on her hip. “Are you her mom? You look so alike. You have raised a very empathetic young woman.” She says just as she walks out of the shop with her bag. You look up at Alexia who kisses your head. “Let’s go home to mami.”

As you pull up to the driveway, you hold your newest addition to your toy collection close to your chest. Then you can see Jenni come out of the house waving at the car. She’s just standing in her slippers which you find silly so you let out a giggle. Mami opens up the door of your side of the car. “Princesa! I have missed you so much! How was your adventure?” She asks as she unbuckles you while you hold the box in her face. “Mami, Tia found Moana!” you say as you squeal. “Wow, aren’t you so lucky?” Mami said as she picks you up and holds you close. The familiarity of mami’s heartbeat and warmth is enough to make you feel so sleepy. You yawn as you lean towards her, taking in the familiar comforting scent that you love so much. At night when you were to sleep in your own bed, you would make sure to have mami’s shirt with you so you could feel comforted if you woke up in the middle of the night. “Are you tired, amor?” Mami says as you nod. Mami carries you inside and Alexia follows quickly behind. “I’m just gonna put her down for a nap, Ale. Feel like home” Jenni says as Alexia nods and puts down her jacket on the counter. Mami starts to walk up the stairs as you say “mamma also put me to bed”. Jenni looks at Alexia and gestures for her to join. Eventually, Mami sits at the edge of your bed while Alexia sits at the pink little lounge chair next to your bed. “Me like mamma” you say as you yawn again while mr.sleep is knocking on your eyelids. Alexia blushes as Jenni smiles “Do you think you look like Mamma?” You nod as you close your eyes and pull your bunny close. “She does, dosent she?” Jenni says as she tucks your hair behind your ear. “I don’t know, she looks like you” Alexia says as she tries to move to conversation forwards. “No, Ale. She does look like you. I can tell that she loves you like she loves me. And I know that you love her as your own.” Jenni continues as she tucks you in with your favourite pink fuzzy blanket. You suddenly say “We family; mami, mamma and me.” As you drift further and further away from the situation while imagining Moana eating big strawberries in England. Jenni and Alexia stands close in your doorway as the shadow of their frames are standing close together. “I would love to be a family” Mami says as you drift complete off.

[baronessvonglitter]

The Haunting of David York

Dave York x ghost!reader

Word count: 2.6K

Summary: It's a typical Halloween night for Dave. The last thing he expects is for you to come back and get your revenge.

(Spoilers below the cut, so resume with caution)

WARNINGS: Rated M; Dead Dove Do Not Eat; mentions of wet work, murder, brief gore, threats of violence towards family, major character death (don't hit me)

Author's Note: this fic is for @mermaidgirl30 Jamie's Halloween Writing Challenge 👻 thank you for hosting this lovely fic challenge!

The idea for this started out as a random discussion about why we're afraid of ghosts if they can't really hurt anyone.. then I wanted to add our favorite suburban murder daddy to a ghost story and got some inspo from watching old school stuff like Creepshow and early seasons of AHS. (I haven't written horror in a very long time, so gimme a little break)

Shoutout to @yorksgirl for the Dave chit chats-- there will be a sweatpants scene in another fic, promise!

"Dave, not again!" Carol whines from the front steps.

"What?" he asks innocently, hefting the human-sized 'body bag' consisting of garbage bags stuffed with leaves and tied up with duct tape to fashion a corpse decoration in the yard for Halloween. Dave has been working on them all day. He's now up to seventeen.

"The HOA is going to complain," his wife shakes her head. "We got away with a warning last year. This time they'll definitely fine us."

"It's worth it to see the looks on everyone's faces," he insists. "Besides, I'll have them picked up and out of sight by the end of the night. I promise."

Dave doesn't love Halloween, but neither does he mind it. People dressing up to be anything other than themselves for one night only? Try doing that 24/7.

He doesn't get to parade around the Mr. Hyde aspect of his life. He doesn't get to knock on doors while in tactical gear, sniper rifle resting in one arm while he sticks an orange jack-o-lantern bucket out to get a handful of tooth-rotting sweets. He doesn't get to wake up on November first and pretend it was all for fun.

It's a silly holiday, but he likes scaring the shit out of the neighbors with the decorations. And his kids love planning their costumes months in advance. Alice is going as a zombie cheerleader (he never understands where these ideas come from) and Molly is some type of Pokemon Dave thinks is a squirrel but she insists is something called an Evoo or Evie or something completely asinine.

Carol usually insists on taking them out trick-or-treating, dressing up herself in a last-minute Minnie Mouse getup, a red sweater and black leggings, and a headband with sequined mouse ears to complete the look.

"You'll be okay here by yourself?" she asks, putting the finishing touches on her mouse whiskers and nose with liquid eye liner in the hall mirror as the girls wait impatiently to leave.

She asks that every year, as if something bad will happen on his watch, as if he can't hack it alone for a couple of hours.

"Unless Michael Myers or Pennywise show up, I'm pretty sure I'll be fine," he says, giving the girls a quick kiss before they go.

"What's Pennywise?" Alice asks as Carol herds them out the door, and she shoots her husband an annoyed glance.

There aren't as many trick-or-treaters this year, and Dave regrets that he'd bought so much candy. He dips his hand into the large tub of mini chocolate bars and fruit-flavored chews that stick to one's teeth and selects some Nerds, eating them straight from the tiny box. With barely concealed disgust he finds the candy corn, plucking the small packets of the hated sweets out from the bowl. He doesn't know how anyone can eat these. These can go to the next kids who ring the doorbell. When the next round of costumed kids come around he gives out huge handfuls. The less sweets they have in the house, the less sugar-fueled meltdowns he's likely to experience from his kiddos.

When there's more of a lull he relaxes on the sofa, mindlessly unwrapping a chocolate bar as the Halloween song hums from the TV, The Nightmare Before Christmas playing where the girls had left it on:

Boys and girls of every age wouldn't you like to see something strange? come with us and you will see this, our town of Halloween

He finds his glass of Macallan pairs nicely with a mini Hershey's Special Dark chocolate that he knows the little trick-or-treaters won't appreciate. The candy rests on his tongue as he savors the lingering taste of the scotch while the movie keeps playing. He absorbs a little of it, a now thirty-year-old film that came out when he was his kids' age. He watches idly, letting the scotch lull him into a nice semi-rest.

This is Halloween, this is Halloween pumpkins scream in the dead of night this is Halloween, everybody make a scene trick or treat, 'til the neighbors gonna die of fright

Enough of the singing. He changes the channel. There's postseason baseball on TV, but his favorite team isn't in the playoffs, and the announcers are annoying. Click. Of course there's a horror marathon on every channel. All the Scream movies, which he can appreciate for their ingenuity, Psycho, Shaun of the Dead, the entire Friday the 13th franchise even though it's Thursday, the 31st.

He flips channels, mindlessly, watching tidbits of each, digging into the leftover candy once again when he hears a thud.

With feline alertness he mutes the TV and sits up straight in one swift move. He zones in on where the sound came from, waiting, his racing heart the most audible sound in his ears.

Most people listen for a sound and relax when they don't hear it again, chalking it up to the house settling, or a rodent in the attic. But Dave knows better. He's been on the opposite side of this type of situation countless times. He doesn't relax and just chalk it up to mundane things like other people, because he knows there are guys like him out there-- becoming one with the shadows, as silent as possible--

It's coming from the back door.

In stealth mode, he grabs his gun from the safe in his study and quickly, skillfully, loads it. Adrenaline sings in his veins, carries him towards the danger. He flips on the light switch for the patio and the lights glare into the dark, lighting up nothing. His gun is still in his hand as he slowly opens the door, listening for footsteps.

Quiet.

A little disappointed that he's gotten riled up for no reason, he sighs as the rush of adrenaline dissipates and leaves him weak for a brief moment.

He keeps the gun in the holster at his side as he returns to the sofa, a little more on edge. It could be just teenage assholes playing pranks out of boredom, but he doesn't want to risk it.

He shuts the TV off and the silence becomes the largest thing in the room, even louder than his thoughts. He's taut as wire, not allowing himself to relax just yet. He's listening for more sounds. Most are explainable: a slow drip in the kitchen sink that Carol told him about just yesterday, the notification pings on his daughter's tablet that she left on the dining room table.

"Fuck!" he curses in surprise as the TV turns on, The Nightmare Before Christmas still playing where it left off:

I am the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red I am the one hiding under your stairs fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair

Dave quickly snaps the TV off, removing the batteries from the remote.

It's just some electrical glitch he tells himself. And then the power goes out completely.

"Shit," he mutters, using his phone to light the way to locate the real flashlight. It's not in the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink where it's supposed to be left. Carol must have moved it. He checks the garage. Through the windows he can see the neighbors still have power, so he grabs the trusty flashlight and checks the breaker box. After fiddling with it, it won't reset. The flips do absolutely nothing.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking out his phone from his pocket. The battery shows 1% before fizzling out to a black screen with the gray spinning wheel before dying.

"You've got to be shitting me," he grumbles. With another curse, he shoves the useless thing back in his pocket, letting the flashlight guide him out of the garage. He may as well get the keys and go try to find Carol and the girls, who are probably several blocks over by now, maybe get them to stay at her mother's place while he gets things sorted out with the power issue.

And then..

he hears the sound of his name spoken, a sharp. accusatory whisper, as if it's right next to him. It's so real he can feel the cold breath against his ear. It makes him jump out of his skin.

Alert, his body tense and ready for action, his eyes dart around the room as he begins to get his bearings back and his heart goes back to its normal rhythm.

Stupid.. he curses himself, sitting upright again. Annoyance colors his face.

But the sound of it.. of your voice still rings in his ear. And he'd know your voice among a thousand others.

Now he knows he's imagining things, because it couldn't have been your voice at all.

You're dead.

He doesn't want to think about that day, a cold autumn day just like this. In fact it'll be one year exactly on November 14th. The last day you saw sunlight, the last day you ever breathed.

It's not that you were bad, you were just in the way. There was no room for you in Dave's perfect, clock-precision life. He tried to make your end painless, make sure you didn't see it coming.

Some secrets don't stay buried forever..

Nobody knows he assures himself. It's impossible.. He'd even kept it from his teammates, and they knew nearly every damn thing about him.

No, this particular job.. the handling of you, had to be done on his own.

Casting a glance at the backyard patio again, the light from his neighbor's back porch glows eerily, spotlighting the patch of earth Dave had avoided until finally he'd caved and erected a bird bath with a small garden, a surprise for Carol's birthday. His wife never suspected that you were buried there, beneath her gift.

Without thinking, he's already walking outside, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other, leading the way to your grave. He never comes out here anymore. The guilt has become too crushing and he's not a man who dwells on guilt. He does what he has to and revisits the issue if problems arise.

You won't arise, though. When he closes his eyes he can still see the bullet hole in your temple, the blank look as the light left your eyes.

Forgive me, he'd thought, unable to speak it aloud as he stuffed your body in a bag and placed you in the dirt on a moonless autumn night.

When he reaches the stone path that leads to your innocent-looking grave marker, he has to process what he sees:

there's a hole in the ground, where some of the rocks and flowers around the bird bath have been upheaved, and in the breeze his flashlight shines on a tattered, empty black body bag. The scent of death greets his nostrils as he pales, trying not to vomit.

He goes back to the house, immediately on the defensive, irrationally expecting to find you there, clothes dirty and hair caked with mud and blood, a specter of his own paranoia and guilt.

It's still shrouded in darkness, the home that is supposed to be his shelter from such dark things as yourself. It's his domain, his castle, and in this trouble, without his family, he feels like less of a king.

"There's no fucking way," he mutters, stomach roiling with fear and suspicion. He opens the patio door and steps inside.

The whole place smells of death, of the grave.

You're in every corner, quiet, waiting, watching. But not impassive.

He feels you everywhere, himself made small by your ubiquitous pall. The gun in his hand feels useless, and this makes him angry.

You feed off his anger. You love it. It's the only thing you can feel anymore. Pure, unadulterated hate.

You slither towards him, wicked grin growing bigger as you approach him. Dave gets the chills down his back, not knowing just how close you are to him.

"Boo" you whisper lightly, ghostly breath caressing the shell of his ear.

Your cackling thunders in his ears as he whips around, eyes wide with fright. You delight in the fear he's giving off. The scent of it it so intoxicating. It's the only good thing about being dead.

"I should make your death as nice and quick and clean as you made mine" your voice echoes all around the room. Dave looks equal parts pissed and afraid as he tries to track you.

"But I won't."

You've been waiting for this night, this one unholy night where you'd be allowed to come back, to gather the unearthly powers granted to you. Halloween: the one night of the year when the living come back to haunt the dead.

And the son of a bitch had the gall to kill you in November. You had to wait almost a whole year for your revenge.

Gonna make it sweet.

It takes a lot of energy to assume something of a human form, but as you grab onto the fear he's giving off, as you use the most ancient of forces to pull your corporeal parts together, it gets easier. You don't feel afraid. You haven't, not since he killed you.

"Consider yourself lucky it's only you I'm after. If I had my way your family's blood would be splattered on these walls along with yours."

Dave shivers violently. "Please, don't!" He's not used to begging or pleading. He's actually on his knees. He tries not to look at you; your visage is too grotesque. Your flesh is falling off your face and your eyes are sunken into your head, giving a ghoulish appearance.

You force his gaze upon you with the ice-cold touch of your hand. "Your family is safe. For now. Hell, there's always next Halloween."

With the cracking open of his ribcage and the spilling of his guts you reach into him, finding the fullness of the heart, the organ he uses the least.

All Dave can do is scream and scream and scream.

The next day Carol sits at the dining room table, two detectives with her. Her coffee has grown cold, barely touched. She still bears the remnants of the makeup she'd put on to complete her costume last night. The girls are upstairs. She couldn't bear sending them to school, having them apart from her. Not while Dave is missing.

"He was fine last night. Normal," she adds, shrugging as she dabs at her eyes with a Kleenex.

Because of his position as a government agent, his disappearance is being taken very seriously. Officers are en route, dispatched to start searching the area, especially the nearby woods, which Carol has always feared.

Dave's gun is there, his wallet, phone, and keys also left behind.

One of the field officers comes in (there have been many people coming in and out of the house today) and motions to the backyard. "Halloween decoration?"

"Yeah," Carol sniffles, smiling just a little. "Dave likes to shock the neighbors. He promised he'd put them away before the morning.. but he never puts them out back.."

Out of guilt, or maybe just to give herself something to do, she gets up and goes to put the decorations away. The detectives follow.

Funny. There's just one.. she thinks, looking at the lone body bag on the lawn, tossed haphazardly next to her bird bath.

It's heavier than she expects. She's too petite to pick it up. Sighing, she kneels, the crunch of the fallen leaves beneath her knees. She'll just take the leaves out and throw the bag away.

Ripping it open with her nails she's stunned a moment, not processing what she's seeing before she lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Wrapped up in the duct taped body bag is what's left of Dave.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

tagging @almostempty @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @salingers @zascal

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

First Date: Chaggie

Chaggie Week of Firsts - Day 2

-On the hotel back patio-

Razzle: (dressed in an extra spiffy sequined suit with a little top hat and holding a sign saying "I just met you, and this is crazy. But I really like you, so date maybe?") Baaaap!

Dazzle: (also dressed to the nines in sequins with a flower wreath snapped around his neck and a silver platter of chocolates balancing on his head, his super long tongue trying to sneak up and steal a chocolate) Baaaaap!

Charlie: Okay, she'll be here any second now. I'm just going to ask Vaggie out on a date. Nothing too serious. Just... if she says no, then I've basically outed myself and told her I like her. Like like-like her. Then I have to deal with her possibly wanting to leave because she doesn't like girls and is uncomfortable to even be around me!

Razzle: (looking sad) Baaap?

Dazzle: (eyes catch something in the yard, and he excitedly elbows Razzle) Baap! Baap!

Razzle: Baap? (Sees where Dazzle is pointing and grins) Baap!!!

Charlie: (taking a deep breath and not noticing Razzla and Dazzle tiptoe away) Okay, okay, okay, holy shit... I can do this. I'm the Princess of Hell! I can do whatever I want! (Deflates a little) OooOooOOoh!!! Who am I kidding? I'm a wreck! (Sighs) At least I have you guys with me.

-Silence-

Charlie: (face falls) Razzle? Dazzle?

SPLISH!!! SPLASH!!! SQUISH!!!

Charlie: (turns around in horror as she sees the sign, flowers, and chocolate platter scattered across the patio) BOYS!!!!

Razzle & Dazzle: (splashing and rolling around in a mud puddle) Baaap! BaaAAaap!!!

Vaggie: (slightly nervous as she steps onto the patio) Hey, Charlie. You wanted to talk to me?

Charlie: Vaggie?! H-Hi!!! Uh, just a sec! (Turns to the demon goats as her horns grow) Razzle! Dazzle! Get out of the mud right now!!! I swear to my dad, that had better just be mud!!!!

Vaggie: Pfft! (Tries to hide her laugh as she looks at the mess on the patio. Her eye catches the sign and she blushes) Uh, Charlie?

Charlie: (horns disappear as she turns back sheepishly) Yes, Vaggie?!

Vaggie: (smiles warmly) Do you need help reining the boys in? Maybe some assistance getting them a bath?

Charlie: (glances out of the corner of her eye)

Razzle: (blows bubbles in the mud pit through his nose)

Dazzle: (rolling somersaults with bleats of joy)

Charlie: (defeated) Yes, please....

Vaggie: (gives Charlie a quick peck on the cheek) It's a date. (Turns to Razzle and Dazzle and squares her shoulders) Alright, you two tin can connisours! Get out of the mud before I have to dive in after ya! Don't think I won't!

Razzle & Dazzle: (stop what they're doing briefly, exchange glances, and blow raspberries)

Vaggie: Oh! That is it! (Launches herself off the patio)

Charlie: (hearts in her eyes as she touches the spot on her cheek that Vaggie kissed)

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Steve-O X Bimbo!Y/N HC’s!

Steve-O X Fem!Y/N

Warnings: Suggestive content, crude language, drug use, alcohol, lingerie, dick size jokes

An: Thank you for sending in requests! At the moment, my inbox is as dry as a desert, so please keep them coming! While writing this fic, the dynamic i had in mind was sorta similar to Michał Wiśniewski and Mandaryna if that makes sense :) I really love writing for Bimbo!Y/N so if you have a requests regarding that, feel free to send them my way!

The two of you couldn’t be more different: you, a multimillionaire heiress, and your boyfriend, the guy on tv who sets himself on fire and shoves stuff in his ass for a living.

To break it down, the dynamic between you and Steve is that of a rich woman and the little dog she keeps in her purse

And because of that, you really couldn’t be a better match for each other!

He’d never been one for the whole party girl, heiress type, but he was surprised at the fact that a girl as normal as you was brave enough to go for him in the first place, disgusting antics and all

But there was something about his edgy, manic bad boy image that you were all over!

Unlike what usually happens with celebrity couples, it was you dragging him around to every party in LA and showing him off to the paparazzi

I mean, how couldn’t you? Your boyfriend knew all these fun tricks!

Steve couldn’t complain about all the newfound attention and free flowing drugs, pulling out all the stops to impress you and your rich friends.

A couple people tucked dollar bills into his mankini as he shook off charred bits of hair from his last stunt while preparing for his next,

“Alright! Does anybody gotta stapler around here?”

Respectively, you tagged along to every Jackass premiere, wearing your sparkly little kitten heels and cute sequined mini-dresses while Steve stumbled in with one hand on your waist and the other gripping a fourty,

Likely shirtless, wearing a pair of sneakers and baggy jeans that sat a good couple inches below his boxers.

Still, that didn’t stop the two of you from going all out with the PDA in front of the cameras…

The rest of the jackass guys were shocked when you showed up, having written him off every time he mentioned that he was dating that Beverly Hills party girl from all the tabloids

Blinking in surprise at the two of you, an amused smile spread across Johnny’s face, “Wow…when you said you were datin’ Y/N, you really wernt kidding, O…”

Eagerly shaking Knoxville’s hand, you gushed about how excited you were to meet him,

“Ohmygod! This is sooo crazy! Stevie’s told me all about you guys!”

From out of your line of sight, Bam shot a glance at Ryan and made some comment about what street corner Steve picked you up on.

Your everyday life was so vastly different from his in so many ways!

Take the day you met at a cafe for lunch- one of those fancy places that he could barely believe he was eating at,

“Y’know, I’ve been livin’ off’a cold cereal and Hungry Mans for, like- forever…”

Unlike most girls in your position who’d find that a turn off, you just saw it as him missing out on good food, “Really?” You leaned in close next to him, pointing to a few items on the menu,

“Well, if you ask me- I think you should try this, ooh! Or this- and this is really good too…”

Steve’s etiquette isn’t exactly up to standard, so while you nibbled away at your fancy French pastry, he drank directly from his bowl of soup.

The paparazzi loves your relationship. Or really, really hates you- you couldn’t tell

“Y/N slumming it with Steve-O in West Hollywood Cafe!” One tabloid headline read, printed in bold red text above a photo of the two of you,

But what they didn’t show was the second that followed- you giggling and reaching out to wipe the corner of his mouth, and him smiling in that cute, boyish way he always did.

After a while of you gushing over him like he’s just the most perfect man, like- literally ever, his buddies began teasing him about you

Whether it was about how Steve didn’t smell like Newports and ass anymore and that the world must be ending or how, for lack of a better word, civilized you were making him.

Hell, even Knoxville got on him about his fancy new clothes you paid for,

“Well, it’s like she treats you like her toy or somethin’. I mean, she’s a beautiful lady- don’t get me wrong, but…”

Of course, this led Steve into a long, drunken rant about all the kickass hollywood parties he’s been going to- all the booze and drugs and bad behavior you could stomach,

(Not to mention the wild sex you had)

He vividly described the time he got so horribly drunk at Carson Daily’s place that he nearly took his eye out with his bidet

“And if you think that’s bad, you don’t even wanna know what I did to Nick Lachey’s sheets, dude…”

On the weekends, you’d usually drag Steve around a couple boutiques or the mall even though he couldn’t buy you fancy clothes given he was dead broke

But he couldn’t complain about his smoking hot girlfriend asking his opinion about what underwear she should buy at Victoria’s Secret,

“Ooh, look at this!” You held up the most gaudy cheetah print bra known to man, “Now we can match!”

Well, he wasn’t about to argue with that…And he knew the value of a woman who could appreciate cheetah print.

While you were in one store or another, you ran into an old friend and told your boyfriend that you’d be right back as she pulled you aside

“Y/N- what in the world are you doing with a guy like that?”

Well, you liked him- a whole lot in fact, but you knew that answer wouldn’t satisfy her. So, you thought of the next best thing,

“Well…” Leaning in conspiratorially, you whispered in her ear, “He has got the biggest cock I have ever seen. I mean- massive.”

Yeah, she can tell that to the tabloids…

When Steve later asked you about what the two of you were chatting about, you told him the truth and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush, “Wait…But I don’t-“

“Yeah, I know you don’t! But she doesn’t...”

[milliesfishes]

Heeey, I cant stop thinking about billy being absolutely hypnotized (basically love at first sight) by either a circus artist or a can-can dancer, if you want to write anything about that 🎀

౨ৎ꣑ৎbilly's love at first sight౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid also quick plug- @runningfrom2am has a series in progress called 'Michigan Cherry' that's similar to this idea and it's so good plz check it out

His boys had said there was a performance Billy wouldn't want to miss.

Wondering what kind of show could get them so riled up when they had so little alcohol in them, he'd followed them to a small building on the outskirts of town.

It was a setup with a bar in the corner and tables scattered about. There was a stage on the opposite side of the bar, and his boys found a spot close to it at a long table as the rest of the crowd filtered in. It was a full house- he noticed the population was mostly male, but was intrigued by a decent number of women and children intermixed.

One of his friends brought him a drink and he thanked him, growing more curious by the second about what kind of show this was. Being relatively new in town, he hadn't heard of such a thing until tonight.

He got his answer when the raggedy curtains parted to reveal a group of women in colorful costumes. A band slightly to the side of them started to play as they began to contort their bodies to the music in ways Billy hadn't ever seen before.

They twisted and spun and bent enthrallingly, and he leaned back in his seat, impressed. It was fascinating, the way the music seemed to be playing to them instead of the other way around.

When the act ended, he clapped enthusiastically, turning to the friend on his left, but the man only smirked. "You haven't seen nothin' yet."

Slightly confused by his words, Billy turned back to the stage. As the show progressed, he realized the show was made up of a series of acts, seemingly unconnected but flowing together all the same.

A very tall woman dressed in sequins sang operatically, breaking an offered glass from the audience. Three little girls did backflips across the stage. An older lady pulled butterflies from her sleeves and disappeared into a cloud of smoke. The first group of women from the beginning made several appearances, dancing in ways that made Billy's head spin.

He could see why people were so fascinated by this, why they apparently came back night after night. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before.

After a woman in a long dress finished a fan dance, Billy's other friend nudged his elbow. "Here it comes."

One of the cartwheeling little girls came out and introduced the next act, calling this performer "a siren". There was a loud cheer from the crowd, and Billy leaned forward on the table as the curtains reopened. Instantly his heart stuttered against his ribs, his mouth going dry.

Standing in the middle of the stage facing the audience was you.

You were stunning, in a light pink dress with a short skirt that made your legs look long and slender. Surveying the audience coyly, a smile grew on your face as you drank the audience's approval like water. It was like you lived off of it.

Billy watched, captivated, as you lifted your hands to stretch above your head, and a single violin from the band began to play. You opened your mouth, a sweet melody pouring from your throat.

He didn't recognize the language, but it was elegant as you sang it, pure emotion dripping from every word. Even though he couldn't understand you, he could understand you.

Tilting your head back, your voice became haunting, lower as the violin dipped down the scale with you. Reaching out your hand as if for your lover, your lyrics turned soft. The music paused, and you sang a single, foreboding line into the silence.

As you were frozen in your position, Billy was surprised by the utter stillness of the room. You commanded the audience with your being, your persona.

When the music continued, you sank to your knees and slid off the stage, trailing into the audience like a snake low in the grass. Now you were singing higher, your voice rich and lilting. As you swayed with every word he grew more and more entranced.

You made his heart beat faster, stole the breath from his lungs. He wanted to treasure you, cherish you as the audience cherished the gift of your performance.

Stopping for a moment and letting the violinist play, you twirled once and said in a mock disappointed voice, "I'm singing in French, but I don't see any French kissing? What's a girl gotta do?" The audience laughed at your little quip, and he found himself chuckling as well.

Spinning again, your little skirt fanned out, and Billy swore he could see glitter fly in your wake. A few of the men you passed fawned over you, but you hardly seemed to notice. It only seemed to make you more desirable.

At the conclusion of your song, you lifted yourself onto the table, his table, and crawled across it, lowering yourself into a pose on your side with your hair falling half over your face. About to grandly finish the song, you looked up and your eyes locked with his. For a second, you stared at him, and he felt something click as he offered you a little smile.

Seeming a little surprised, you smiled at him, and he saw through the character you were playing for a moment in time before you hit your final note, holding it long and clear like a swan's song. Thunderous applause and cheering from the audience ensued and you stood back up on the table, taking a long, well-deserved bow.

As you got off the table you looked back at Billy, giving him a wink and then disappearing backstage.

His friend pushed his shoulder. "What'd ya think?"

Billy was still under your spell, and he could only manage, "It was...it was good."

Laughing at the shell-shocked look in his eyes, his friend nodded knowingly. "Told ya you shouldn't miss it."

Both his boys went to go get another drink, and he followed them, the only thing really on his mind you. And when he'd be able to see you again.

Leaning against the bar, he surveyed the crowd casually, noticing some of the other performers mingling. Perking up, his eyes darted across the room, raking over the crush of people to try and find...

You were surrounded by a group of admirers; mostly male he noted. They seemed to be just as charmed as he had been by you, and you were reveling in the attention.

Billy just leaned against the bar, grinning at the sight. He'd never been this drawn to a girl before; not at first sight. Of course, he knew that likely had to do with you being an entertainer, but there was something else about you. The way you'd met his eyes, there was something raw and pure that had crackled between you.

He wanted to talk to you, but he also didn't want to get in the way of your fans, so he turned and accepted his drink from the bartender, trying to figure a way to get you alone.

As it turned out, he didn't need to, because you sidled up to him, leaning against the counter with that same coy look on your face you'd worn onstage. "Howdy."

"Evenin' ma'am," he tipped his hat, ignoring the rush of butterflies that fluttered around his heart.

Did you enjoy the show?" you seemed genuine in your asking despite the evidence that it had, indeed, been a good performance.

"Sure did," Billy confirmed, and you lit up. He wanted to make that smile stay, so he added, "You were wonderful."

"Oh, that's too kind of you." You seemed almost shy, which surprised him given how bold you were onstage. Even though you weren't all flashy and full of bravado now, there was still something about the way you spoke that was magnetic. All he saw was a sweet, pretty girl in a costume, not the "siren" you'd been introduced as. It was confirmed when you said, "I've never seen you before. Are you new in town or just new to the show?"

"Both," Billy lifted the brim of his hat. "Just rode in 'bout a week ago and I was told this was unmissable."

"I'm glad to hear tales of our prowess have reached the right ears," you tucked some of your hair behind your ear, your hand lingering there and twirling a strand. "What kinda work brought you to this corner of the world?"

"Just ranchin'," Billy explained, feeling like he could tell you anything at all. "I was on the road...well, on the run really, for a while and I'm turnin' to some honest work."

"How noble," you smiled as you said it. not seeming put off at all by his status as an outlaw. "One can always tell a good man by his intentions."

"You're mighty sweet, miss," he unconsciously smoothed a hand over his shirt, hoping it wasn't too wrinkled.

"Would you tell me your name?" you requested pleasantly.

Anything, he thought. "It's William H. Bonney on paper. Most folk call me Billy." Something about you wanting to know who he was had him weak.

You smiled something radiant and told him your name. He tested it out and it felt like honey on his tongue. Oh he was enchanted. Billy felt like a fool for falling for your charms, knowing you must capture the hearts of many every time you were on that stage. He couldn't at all help it. Everything about you drew him in, like you were a drug created specifically for the fine tunes of his addiction.

As you searched his eyes, he felt that spark again. It was absolutely electric, the way he felt when he looked at you. Billy had never felt such a connection before with anyone so quickly. Every facet of your being hypnotized him. And somehow, he knew you could feel the fire crackling between you too.

Standing up a little straight, you let go of the strand of hair you'd been holding. "Would you like to come back to my dressing room with me? We could talk more privately there." You said it with a slight air of nervousness that endeared you to him more.

The way you were looking at him he would have walked into the ocean if you'd asked. "I'd love to."

Your smile somehow burned brighter, and you took his hand, pulling him along with you to the back the room behind the stage. He followed you happily, smiling at the other performers lounging about the area, chatting idly. This was a safe space for them, he knew, and he felt lucky to have been allowed in.

Leading him to a back room, you shut the door behind him, turning around and leaning against it, smiling in relief. "What a lot of people don't know about this job is that I have to perform after the show too. But we're alone now so I don't have to."

He grinned, and you motioned to a chaise. "Sit. Make yourself at home."

Billy did, and he watched as you disappeared behind a screen set up in front, adjacent to the vanity on the wall. "I hope you don't mind if I get out of this." You referred to your costume.

"Not at all." He tried averting his eyes even though you were behind the screen, but the glow from the lantern behind it showed your silhouette removing your clothes. He could see you toss your costume over the side of the screen and shake out your hair. Pulling on a light chemise from a hook on the wall, you took a dressing gown and tied it around yourself. Reappearing before him, you came to sit beside him on the chaise.

Though you were wearing a chemise, the hem was short, and your dressing gown unfolded, revealing the skin of your thigh. You were oblivious to it, leaning against the backrest and propping your elbow on it to rest your cheek on. "Tell me more about yourself, Mr. Bonney. You've got me hooked."

That alluring smile again. He removed his hat, setting it to the side and crossing one leg over the other as he began to talk.

Billy found himself telling you things he normally wouldn't have confessed to a soul. The details of his family's immigration from Ireland, his mother's marriage to an awful man, his first arrest...it all came pouring out. He wasn't a man who talked by any means but around you he could feel himself becoming one.

You listened intently, looking at him like there wasn't a soul in the world more interesting than him. He'd never felt like anyone had been so utterly fascinated by him before.

He hadn't realized how many hours he'd been in there until he caught sight of the clock on your vanity. "Oh- my apologies, miss. Been takin' too much time and ya must be tired from tonight-"

"That's alright, Billy," you replied comfortably. "I like talking to you."

"Didn't let ya hardly get any talkin'," he chuckled.

"I enjoy listening to you then," you reaffirmed. He stood and you did too, retying the bow of your dressing gown that had loosened in the time you'd been sitting.

Billy picked up his hat. "Thank you for your time. I'd be pleased to get a chance to talk to ya 'gain."

"Likewise," you smiled. Seeming to have a thought just then, you said, "I never do this, but..." You reached over to your vanity and found a pen, sliding a piece of paper haphazardly across the table. Holding it up and using your hand as a hard surface to write on, you scribbled something brief and folded it in half, sealing it with a kiss on the back that left a lipstick mark.

Holding it out to him between two fingers, you raised your eyebrows playfully. "I've never let a man call on me before...but I want you to."

A slow smile spread across his face and he took the folded paper, tucking it into his shirt pocket. "Then I will."

Leaving the building, he smiled to himself, walking with a new bounce in his step. Billy found himself wanting to know every detail about you, every curve and crack and the flowers that grew between them.

His boys weren't too drunk to notice he was happy, and they pestered him the whole ride back, teasing him and asking relentlessly about who he'd met. Billy's spirits were too high to care, and he dreamt about you the whole way home, knowing he wasn't the only one doing so. But he found solace in knowing he wasn't imagining the seductive persona onstage.

It was the sweet, compassionate, joyful girl who smiled at him so softly that he thought of until sleep, where you then haunted his dreams.

[scoobysnakz]

Hard Luck

It’s hard finding love when your sole reason to live is your daughter, but when her best friends dad is annoyingly attractive and might have something to do with your rent randomly getting paid, who can blame you for being a little curious?

||* mentions of masturbation (m receiving)

Chap i

The crisp autumn air carries a sense of nostalgia, which surprises you. It has been a while since you've experienced autumn in this way, but nostalgia is supposed to be a pleasant feeling, right?

Your daughter's small, chubby fingers firmly grip your hand as you playfully swing your arm out of her reach. You can't help but laugh at her adorable pout when you pull your hand away.

"I'm just teasing you," you say with a wide grin, extending your hand for her to take. "Stop being a grouch and hold my hand, RayRay!"

Her scowl quickly turns into a cheesy grin as she latches onto your hand. The sound of her pencil case and notebook thumping matches the rhythm of her skipping, and her glittery, purple sequin backpack bounces on her back.

Raya, or RayRay as you playfully call her, is your best friend. It's a bit sad, you know, but you've never really had time for friends. Ever since her dad left, she's been the only person in your life, aside from colleagues and your parents. And it's not so bad. She has adapted to your lifestyle, developed a sense of humor—her sarcasm is surprisingly on point for a nine-year-old.

The journey from your rundown apartment to her school isn't long, but it's far enough for the houses to transform from shabby boxes with crooked slate tiles to fancy condos with gleaming windows. It always amazes you how a few turns can take you to an area where people don't even know the meaning of a food bank.

You can tell by appearances alone that you don't fit in. The navy blue cable-knit sweater and boyfriend jeans, dirtied with mud stains, don't exactly scream, “I can afford more than one vacation a year!"

On the other hand, Raya always looks pristine. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but you'd rather wear nothing than have your daughter look as unkempt as you. Ensuring she has enough clean, stain-free clothes is your number one priority.

As you round a corner, narrowly missing a puddle that Raya "only wanted to look at" and not jump in, her disappointed expression gives her away.

Parents bustle around, urgently trying to retrieve their kids from the playground. It's nearly impossible to spot her teacher amidst the crowd of what seems like millions of moms, dressed in thick white scarves and thigh-high brown boots.

And then you hear it—a loud screech that, under different circumstances, would signify fear instead of the original joy it was intended for. "RAYYYY!" an excited girl squeals from the opposite end of the playground. Her dark brown hair is scraped back into a painfully tight ponytail as she races toward your daughter.

The two girls jump up and down gleefully, holding each other closely. It's a nice seeing her not alone.

You're so engrossed in watching your daughter giggle with her friend that you fail to notice the tall man standing next to you. What catches your attention first is his cologne—it's expensive.

The scent of thick oak is overpowering on its own, but it's tempered by the most unremarkable shower gel known to man.

"They're cute, aren't they?" he asks, causing you to turn your head and face him. You bite your lower lip for a moment, trying to figure out who this guy is. "Yeah... they are," you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Your words come out ruder than you intended, but you can't be bothered to fix your manners when a surprisingly attractive man is staring at your daughter, enjoying her time with another child. If you weren't genuinely confused about his identity, you might have reacted more strongly. Instead, you stand there, arms folded and brow furrowed.

"I'm... sorry, I'm Gabi's dad," he explains, his tone surprisingly apologetic.

That's her name.

"I'm Raya's dad," you reply, nodding toward the two girls. Hearing who he is instantly eases your fear that he might be something worse than just a father.

An awkward silence ensues as the man continues to study your appearance, seemingly taking you in. With a soft laugh, he smiles at you—a warm and irritatingly charismatic smile. "You don't look like a dad," he grins.

You open your mouth to give him a sharp, quick-witted retort, but your expression falters when you realize your mistake. Refusing to let this stranger have the upper hand in your first interaction, you smirk at him. "What do you mean?" you ask, poking your tongue past your lips to swipe across your teeth.

He instantly catches on to your smirk, and to be honest, it's endearing. "Because you don't look likea typical dad," he responds, matching your quickness. The same mischievous grin is plastered on both of your faces as you engage in a playful stare-down.

This morning, when you hastily applied expired mascara and cheap lip balm while trying to wake up Raya, you never expected to encounter such an annoyingly funny and undeniably attractive man—by your standards, at least.

With high cheekbones, thick eyebrows, and broad shoulders, anyone would take a second look at him.

The loud peal of the school bell interrupts your scrutinizing gaze, drawing your attention back to your daughter. You quickly give her a kiss on the cheek, and she instinctively wipes it away while giving you a glare, before you push her towards the school entrance.

The man—whose name you still don't know, aside from being Gabi's father—does the same, but his daughter doesn't wipe away the kiss.

"When I asked who you were, I was hoping for a name," you mutter, mostly to yourself, but hoping he hears it too.

"Miguel," he responds, his voice lacking the warmth he had when his daughter was present.

"I'm..." you begin to introduce yourself, but he cuts you off, his voice now tinged with cockiness.

"I know who you are," he says, raising an eyebrow. Your scoff makes it clear how creepy he sounds. "Gabi talks about Raya a lot, and with you being her mother, it's only natural."

You narrow your eyes at Miguel, feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity. Raya is your world, and beyond that, you've kept everything else tightly guarded. It's a defense mechanism, a way to shield yourself from potential hurt or judgment.

"What exactly does Gabi say about Raya?" you ask, your voice tinged with caution. You're not sure if you should be flattered or concerned that your daughter is a topic of conversation between Miguel and his daughter.

Miguel chuckles, seemingly amused by your response. "She just talks about how funny and cool Raya is," he replies. "They've become good friends at school. Gabi is always excited to see her."

There's feel a sense of relief that washes over you. It's comforting to know that Raya has found a friend who appreciates her for who she is.

“Well I need to go,” you say while motioning over to the school gates. “Work and stuff.”

He nods his head, expression just as nonchalant as it was moments ago.

***

After dropping off Raya at school, and a brief yet intriguing conversation with Miguel, you head back home. It's considerably warmer now than it was before; sun poking out of the clouds, shining down onto the leaf-littered pavement. The odd car whizzes past and it's all you can do to jump away in time before it splashes you in murky brown liquid.

Fortunately for you, you don't have to leave for work until ten so you get some time to yourself. As soon as you unlock the door to your apartment, it took longer than you'd like to admit as you forgot which way to turn the key, you flop down onto the worn-in sofa. It creaks beneath you- a sign that you need to get a new one.

If you had the money, you would. God, if you had the money you’d move out of this shitty apartment and into… anywhere else. Maybe a house on the coast would be nice, or one of those fancy condos by Raya’s school. Either way, you want out.

You feel your eyes grow heavy, the temptation to allow yourself a few moments of sleep all too good. With a low groan, you pull yourself up off the sofa and drag your feet over to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee.

You open the jar only to find a minuscule amount granules left- six to be exact. All you want is that burst of energy and yet you are denied it. “Fuck me,” you grumble under your breath.

***

Even though it was a painfully short moment between the two of you, Miguel decides you are tolerable. Okay, maybe you’re more than tolerable, he'll settle for bearable as he's feeling especially nice today. You’re funny, well that might be a bit dramatic since he hasn’t even had a proper conversation with you, but you made him laugh- internally that is.

But right now he needs to push you, the nice lady with a pretty smile and even prettier face, out of his mind. He has to focus on this paperwork that's been sitting on his desk for God knows how long.

Begrudgingly, he picks up his pen with a sigh and starts scrawling his signature on the limitless reams of paper. It's all nonsense about him signing off on random projects, and safety procedures and- those sweet lips.

Something about you is intoxicating. Even when he was skimming through the infinite amount of universes, you didn't seem that special. Yes, there were the odd facts that caught his attention but everything else just seemed… dull. So why now, after not even a full five minutes of your company, can't he get you out of his head?

At first, he assumes it's because you’re oddly charismatic but that's not it. You weren't even trying, you just didn't want him to pull a fast one on you. Maybe, just maybe, he underestimated your personality and being around you as a real person and not some fact file actually made you likeable- no, bareable.

Double checking his office door is closed and the blind is pulled down over the frosted glass before sliding back into his chair. ��LYLA,” he calls out, words muffled by his head in his hands.

There’s a small glitch next to him that quickly turns into a digitalized woman. “You called?” LYLA asks, hands on her hips.

Fuck he feels guilty but maybe seeing that cocky smirk on your face will ease the culpability he’s feeling. “You… you know what I want and I don’t want teasing or anything about it, just do it, ‘kay?” Miguel’s voice is gruff, full of an annoyance he doesn’t even know he’s feeling.

“Why would I tease you about wanting to innocently look at something?” she drawls with a smirk.

He shoots her a look, an unamused one at that. Giggling childishly, LYLA pulls up a screen full of writing. Miguel’s eyes flicker back and forth trying to find something until he catches a glimpse of your name.

He swipes and flicks the blue pixels a few times before your socials are pulled up. It’s nothing much, just your Twitter, Facebook and a surprising amount of Instagram accounts. That, makes him laugh. He can tell exactly which ones are the accounts you use for stalking people and which ones are for actually posting things.

There are mostly pictures of you and Raya together on days out but there are a few of you on nights out nights out alone. He immediately notices you never post anything with friends and it’s oddly comforting because it’s not just drunk girls with smeared eyeliner that’s missing from your pictures. It’s a boyfriend as well.

Not that he wants to fill that missing gap in your selfies, he's just feeling a little lonely cooped up in his office. He's in this universe for Gabi and no one else, not the lady with a pretty smile.

Just as he’s about to zoom in on a picture that shows an alluring amount of your cleavage, LYLA cuts him off. “I like her smile,” she says while getting up a different picture. This time it’s one of you and Raya in last year's Halloween costumes. Pirates. That’s the two of you had dressed up as.

You’d drawn a black beard on her face, Raya’s outfit cute with the oversized black and white striped shirt meanwhile you… A tight black and red corset pushes your chest in a way that makes something inside Miguel stir.

He shouldn't be looking at you like this- it's wrong and perverse. The two of you only met today and yet he's salivating over a picture of you in a Halloween costume. Yet he can't stop himself from allowing his body to react to the way you look.

That feeling slips down from his chest to his gut until it eventually reaches his crotch. You look so pretty like that, cheeks appled and eyes wide as you pull a stupid face with your daughter. The picture is innocent enough in its own right but seeing you in something ever so slightly revealing makes his brain malfunction.

He bets could make you prettier, more gorgeous than ever if you let him. His cum painting your perfectly plump lips and his hands gripping bruises into your supple flesh.

[clasytrends]

Evening White Flower Costume

This Evening White Flower Costume is sure to turn heads. Crafted from delicate fabric, the costume is lightweight and comfortable, ideal for any formal event. The intricate patterns of white flowers with sparkling accents make this costume one-of-a-kind. Perfect for any night full of elegance and style.

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Cardigan - Rafe Cameron Imagine

Word count: 4.5 k (Longest fic I've ever written!!!)

Warnings: Illusions to smut, a lot of angst and heartbreak, and swearing. 18+ only Minors DNI

The italics are flash backs, so I hope this isn't too confusing to read!

Vintage tee, brand new phone High heels on cobblestones When you are young, they assume you know nothing Sequined smile, black lipstick Sensual politics When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Life in outer banks was paradise, or at least it was supposed to be. Growing up, you had been blessed enough to be the rich side of the island and known as a kook. Your parents were pretty well off and you grew up next door to the Cameron’s. You had a good relationship with both of the kids, or you did anyways. You were never as high up on the popularity chain of politics at school as they were, but that didn’t keep you from fittings in with them.

Summer had just started; which meant that the first party of the year was creeping up that night. “What should I wear?” You were standing in your closet, eyes scanning the choices you had. You could wear an old band tee and a pair of jeans, or you could dress up a bit. But, that wasn’t really your style, it never had been. “Just wear your old nirvana tee, I love how that looks on you.” Your friends voice cemented your choice as you changed into the clothes, putting your makeup on. You were almost ready when you heard a gasp, your eyes lingering on your best friend as you waited for her to get on with the dramatics.

“Rafe is coming tonight.” The words hung in the air as you just clicked your tongue and tried not to think about what those words meant. “Do you still wanna go?” Reminders of the heart break the boy brought on filled your head as you swallowed thickly, thinking of if you wanted to deal with the feelings coming back. However, that slowly slipped out of your control as you skidded back into the recesses of your mind that had been taken up by the Cameron boy.

He ran a hand through his hair as he gnawed on his bottom lip. He wasn’t expecting you to act this way. “Come on, her and I were just having fun. You have no right to act like this.” His words infuriated you as you shook your head and laughed under your breath, of course he was that clueless. “Actually, I do. Fuck you. You can’t have us both like this.” And with that you stormed off, leaving him standing stunned and alone in the middle of the crowded party.

"(Y/N), come on. Do you still wanna go or not?" Your friend stood in front of you, her keys dangling off her finger as she tried to get your attention. You didn't realize you had zoned out until she snapped you out of it, an embarrassed blush taking over your face as you nodded. "Yeah, sure. I deserve to get out for a bit."

But I knew you Dancin' in your Levi's Drunk under a streetlight, I I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby, kiss it better, I

As soon as you agreed, your friend could be heard cheering and taking your hand. She pulled you down to her car and quickly got in, driving towards the party.

She drug you inside, the sounds of kids cheering and music that was way too loud immediately filled your ears. The smell of weed and alcohol was impossible to ignore as the two of you made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink, the two of you leaning against the counter to people watch. You saw some of your old friends and went over to talk to them, laughing and smiling.

Time felt like it was flying as you enjoyed yourself, your body moving to the music with your friends. You hadn't felt this free in what felt like ever and it was a refreshing feeling. "Oh, shit. Excuse me." You felt someone run into you and you turned to look at who it was, meeting an all too familiar pair of steely blue eyes. Your mouth opened to say something before it closed again, your eyes now landing on the girl standing next to Rafe. Sofia, of course. You just gave a small, tight lipped smile as you saw a flash of sadness in the boys eyes.

You pretended to ignore it as you turned to your friends, telling them you would be right back. You walked outside and sat by the pool at the party, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you heard your name being called from behind you. Why did he have to be here? Why? Why why why? The questions kept piling up in your mind as you let yourself remember when everything was simple and easy; when you were the girl attached to his hip. When you were the girl he pulled along with him at parties and showed off.

“Rafe, come on.” Your words were drug out as you tried to pull the man up off the couch, his Levi’s feeling scratchy against your bare legs. He just sat back, an amused smile on his lips as he let you continue to try and pry him off the couch. “Come on, sweetheart. Gotta try harder than that.” The smugness in his voice was all but aggravating as you threw your arms over your chest, crossing them in frustration.

The boy in front of you finally took the hint and got up, his hands finding yours with one as his other slid around your waist. He held you close, humming softly as he spun you around the kitchen. The two of you were best friends, or were you more? You didn’t know. The two of you just always acted like this and no one asked anything about it and you never had any doubts. He leaned his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he leaned in.

Just before he kissed you, his phone started ringing and it caused the both of you to jump apart. “Hey, Top.” He put the phone up to his ear and listened to the other boy, nodding and glancing at you as he chewed on his bottom lip. “Yeah, man. (Y/N) and I will be there.” He said goodbye and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Come to the bar with the guys and I.” You knew you didn’t have a choice, nodding as you ran to go change.

After the excitement of the night wore off you stood next to Rafe outside the bar, his arm thrown around your waist as he talked to Kelce. The alcohol was pumping through both of your veins, your eyes moving from the boy towering above you and the streetlight you were standing under. “Well, I gotta go. It was good to see you guys.” Kelce gave you a nod and a smile before he left, leaving you and Rafe to your own devices.

You leaned against the streetlight, a love drunk smile on your lips as you looked up at the boy who was now leaning against you. “What?” Your words were innocent and quiet as you felt Rafe’s hand slide up on your waist, his cold fingers on your waist as he leaned in to attach his lips to yours. He tasted like bourbon and cigarettes, the taste intoxicating as you reached up and tangled your fingers in his hair.

That was the first time you guys kissed, but it definitely wasn’t the last.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan Under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite

“Rafe, do you wanna come home with me?” The girls words rang out in your head as you stood next to him at the party, a crushing feeling starting in the pit of your stomach and in your chest. You were right next to him. Didn’t she see you? Or did she just not care?

Your eyes ran over the girl, feeling a bit insecure. She clearly was higher up on the pyramid than your family when it came to money, her flashy jewelry and clothes making that obvious. She was pretty, very pretty in fact. But, Rafe didn’t seem bothered. He just shook her off and pulled you closer, smiling down at you as he leaned and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

You didn’t know what you were to Rafe. You didn’t know if the two of you were just best friends still, friends with benefits, or dating. You didn’t know. But, you knew he made you feel special. He made you feel important. “You’re all I ever need.”

A friend to all is a friend to none Chase two girls, lose the one When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Rafe was a player, you knew that from a best friend stand point and from the standpoint of just having a pair of eyes. He did not like to every commit to just one girl. "It's too boring." The conversation was one the two of you had a lot; especially when his hookups came whining to you about what was happening. It always slightly broke you, and you weren't sure if it was jealously or just seeing the sheer heartbreak these girls went through at the fingertips of someone you knew that well.

"I'm just playing the field until I find someone I want to really settle down with." His explanations always were an attempt at getting away with it. And for a while, you let them work. You would just apologize to the girls and go about your life. After all, you weren't his mom. You couldn't control him.

But, the game seemed to change once you got wrapped up in it. It didn't seem so fair anymore and guilt ate at your stomach; wondering who else was getting the same treatment you were. But, hey. He wouldn't do that to you, would he? Surely not.

But I knew you Playing hide-and-seek and Giving me your weekends, I I knew you Your heartbeat on the High Line Once in twenty lifetimes, I

Rafe sung in the shower, that was a tid-bit that you knew that not many other people did. But, as you sat on his bed and listened to his voice carrying out of the bathroom, the angelic tone mixing with the falling of the water, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

You got to see all of his quirks that he hid from the world because they didn't seem to be manly enough. For instance, anytime he took medicine he almost always gagged and he didn't like the feeling of scratchy sweaters. He was human, but it often got lost in the perfection act that he had to put on for everyone.

But, as the water stopped you got a maniacal idea and decided to try and scare your beloved best friend. You scampered out of bed and went to hide behind the door to his bathroom, praying that he didn't accidentally slam it on you as he walked past. "(Y/N)?" His voice was softer now that he was out of the shower and it wasn't vibrating off the walls, his blue eyes scanning his room for you.

You stood in your place, hand over your mouth to hide your giggles. However, it was fruitless and soon you were being pulled into his tight chest. His arms wound around your waist as he twirled you around, both of your laughter filling the room. "Put me down! You're getting me soaked!" You instantly regretted the words as soon as Rafe let out a signature chuckle and winked at you, setting you down on the floor. Your bare feet felt soft against the hardwood floor as you landed softly, his eyes meeting yours. "Oh, I can show you soaked." And with that, you were shoving his chest away with a huff. "You're so perverted."

That was your friendship with him. It was everything good and innocent until it wasn't. "Come with me to the bar this weekend." After he had gotten dressed the two of you were now laying in his bed, your head in his lap as he scanned through text messages. His eyes would dart down to you every once in a while, his eyebrows raising in a half question and half statement as you considered it. "Maybe I want you to suffer without me." It was a joke, and you both knew it. But, it was fun to push his buttons. A scoff left his pretty lips before a pout overtook it, blue irises boring into your soul. "Oh, come on. You can't possibly leave me with Kelce and Topper. You know how much of a vibe killer they are."

The words elicited a laugh from your lips as you nodded in a shared understanding, though you had love for all three of the boys, Rafe wasn't wrong. The weekends were usually spent with Topper whining about Sarah and Kelce whining about the new girl who he struck out with. You really needed to give them some pointers, but it always fell on deaf ears. They never believed any of your tips. "I'll only go if you say please." You moved to sit up, looking at him with a raised brow as you put the ball in his court. "You know that word is like poison. You're evil." Your shoulders shrugged as you crossed your arms over your chest. You weren't kidding, and he knew it. "Fine. Please come with me oh lovely (Y/N). I will simply die without your presence." His dramatics made you laugh and nod as you leaned in to kiss his lips, taking solace in the warmth and giddiness they provided.

To kiss in cars and downtown bars Was all we needed You drew stars around my scars But now I'm bleedin'

The weekend came and you kept your promise of accompanying Rafe to the bar downtown with the boys. But, you hardly even paid attention to what was happening with the other two. You and Rafe were lost in your own little world, his lips almost always at the shell of your ear as he whispered drunk nothings into it.

"You make me so damn happy." The words caused goosebumps to run along your entire body, your eyes daring to peak up into his. His pupils were blown, no doubt the cause of the liquor that he had been drinking since you had walked into the packed bar. But, there was an ounce of truth there that was so raw and so Rafe. He could be tough, he could be scary, but around you he was raw and real. Or, so you thought.

"Any man would be incredibly lucky to have you." His words were beginning to slur as he pulled you into a kiss, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer. The kiss got deeper and more passionate, your hands tangling in his hair and yanking slightly. This was perfect. It was everything you ever needed. "Let's go out to your truck." Your words were breathy and quiet as he gave you a knowing smirk. He took your hand and told Kelce and Topper he would be back; which earned a whistle and a wink from the other two. "Use a condom! We don't need anymore of you two." Oh, Kelce. Always the PTA mom when it came to you.

You brushed the two of them off as you walked out to the truck and Rafe helped you inside, the kisses shared enough to make your head spin. "I've never done this before." The words were a quiet and shameful confession as the kisses got more heated and the lines between friends and more started to blur. "I got you. Don't worry." His words were whispered into your neck as you felt euphoria start to take over. You had never felt anything like what Rafe was showing you right now. "You're so beautiful."

That was the night that Rafe took everything from you and you willingly let it happen. You let the lines blur, you let the alcohol and the pleasure take over your every instinct that was yelling at you this was dangerous. You knew he was a player, but maybe he was changing. Maybe he would want more after this. Maybe. Maybe..

'Cause I knew you Steppin' on the last train Marked me like a bloodstain, I I knew you Tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy, I I knew you Leavin' like a father Running like water, I And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

Boy, you could not have been more wrong. After Rafe took your virginity that night, it seemed as if something clicked in his brain that you guys went too far. He was more distant and unavailable.

That was until Sofia came to town and Rafe fell for her hook line and sinker. He met her at a party and lit up like a little kid on Christmas. You had been standing with him, his arm against your waist as he kept his eyes trained on her. She was moving to the beat in a way that you couldn’t, her eyes locking with Rafe’s. She motioned him over; your stomach dropping as he pushed off the wall and seemed to happily oblige to her request.

His body molded into hers immediately, his lips finding hers as they swayed to the tone of the music together. It was sickening for you to watch, bile rising up in your throat as you decided to walk outside. However, he called after you and pulled the new girl over. "(Y/N), wait!" His voice stopped you in your tracks as you gave a fake smile, looking at him expectantly. "This is my best friend, (Y/N). We’ve been best friends since we were practically in diapers." Best friend. The words stung as you recalled the feel of his lips, the taste of his tongue, the feeling of his arms around you. How was that just something best friends did? You knew it wasn't and you all but held back a sob.

"It's so nice to meet you! I'm Sofia." She held her hand out for you and you took it, giving the most awkward hand shake you had ever given. You gave the best fake smile that you could muster up before you excused yourself to go back to your friends.

Throughout the night you could feel his eyes on you as you danced with other guys, having fun despite the circumstances. “What do you think you’re doing?” You heard the all too familiar voice behind you as he pressed a kiss to your neck, his arms snaking around your waist. “I’m dancing and having fun. Where’s Sofia?” The words had a bite to it that you weren’t expecting, but as Rafe’s hips stilled you could tell you caught him off guard.

He licked his lips and turned you towards him, his eyes locking on yours. “She left. What’s with the attitude?” His eyebrows went up and knitted together as he looked you over and tried to read you like a book. He knew you like the back of his hand, or so he thought. He could tell you were upset, but he didn’t realize it was with him. He thought you were just a little buzzed and the alcohol was making you act weird. But, unfortunately for him he was reading the words on the page wrong and it would come back to bite him in the ass. “You we’re just hanging all over her and now you’re here hanging all over me. Is this a joke to you?” Your words exposed your hurt as you glared at the boy that you knew better than anyone, his eyes flashing with confusion.

He ran a hand through his hair as he gnawed on his bottom lip. He wasn’t expecting you to act this way. “Come on, her and I were just having fun. You have no right to act like this.” His words infuriated you as you shook your head and laughed under your breath, of course he was that clueless. “Actually, I do. Fuck you. You can’t have us both like this.” And with that you stormed off, leaving him standing stunned and alone in the middle of the crowded party.

You left, sobbing as you shrunk down against your car outside. This was an absolute nightmare and it was affecting you deep to your core. This was a boy you’ve known for as long as you could remember. He was the one who wiped your tears when you fell. He was always there. "Friends forever." The words echoed in your head as you leaned your head back in frustration, cursing the words the two of you had sworn on as children.

That was the last time you had spoken to him, and now the wound was just as wide open as it was that day.

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long 'Cause I knew everything when I was young I knew I'd curse you for the longest time Chasin' shadows in the grocery line I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired And you'd be standin' in my front porch light And I knew you'd come back to me You'd come back to me And you'd come back to me And you'd come back

The sounds of the party had faded into the distance as you sat outside, head in your hands. Everything felt like it was a bad dream and you prayed that you could wake up from it. You wished you and Rafe had never started to get physical because that was when things got confusing. That was when feelings erupted and burst through the surface on your end. But, what if things had worked out? What if he had felt the same way about you?

The feeling of his lips still haunted your memory, a ghastly reminder of the impact the boy had on your life and your body. He was in your life for so long and then he was just gone, a faint memory of good times etched into your memory. It was like the faint smell of fire after a kegger, it lingered on your clothes and in your hair until you washed it off. But, it still always felt like it was there.

"He's an idiot for doing that to you. He'll be back once he realizes what he's missing out on." The talk you had with Sarah was resonating in your mind as you stared up at the stars of the backyard, their twinkling bringing a small sense of comfort as you let out a breath you did not realize you were holding.

"Hey." You swore you were hallucinating his voice and you actually prayed that you were. You didn't want to face him. You didn't want to see his pretty eyes, or see his shit eating grin that could light up the entirety of a room in an instant. No, that was your kryponite. That was the absolute thing that could make you break no matter what else was going on in your life. But, as you turned around and saw that exact sight, you knew you were in trouble.

"Shouldn't you be inside with your new girlfriend?" The words were pointed like a spear and you hoped it would wound him and cut deep. But, you knew he would never outwardly show if you did. However, the clearing of his throat was enough to show that they had at least pierced through the surface. "She's not my- That isn't important right now." You rolled your eyes as you stood up, looking up at his towering figure in front of you.

"Really, Rafe? Because she seemed pretty damn important when you completely forgot about me for her." Your voice was rising and you felt tears prickling at the waterline of your eyes, the big droplets falling down your cheeks. He was only back because he was bored of Sofia, you knew it. That had to be it. "She was a damn distraction." He was getting stressed, he was rubbing the palms of his hands against his jeans in a way that he thought you wouldn't see. But, unfortunately for him you did. "A distraction from what?" You hated how you took the bait and you also hated how he was walking closer.

His movements were slow and cautious as his hand moved under your chin, tilting your head up to his. "You." The single word answer was not what you were expecting, confusion crossing your face as you tried to read his reaction. "I fucking fell for you and I was afraid of fucking it up." His voice was saying all the things you ever wanted to hear, and yet you couldn't take them at face value. He had taken your virginity and dipped. He had abandoned you. He had left, after everything he had told you. And, you weren't ready to forgive him. You didn't think you could do that yet.

You just chuckled and shook your head, taking a step back. "I chased the ghost of our friendship around a graveyard of memories for the last month, Rafe. I'm not ready to forgive you just because you come spewing words about falling for me. For all I know, it could be a lie." Your words were not what he was expecting, that was obvious by the look in his eyes.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" His words were almost laughable at the rate of desperation that they were bred out of. It was a scared look, it was a flashback to growing up together, it was the feeling in his chest whenever you were around. It was the happiness that your laugh brought him, the bottle of your perfume he always kept in his car, the clothes of yours he kept in his dresser drawer. It was everything, you were the sun and the moon and all the stars. You were the entirety of his universe and now you were pushing everything into a black hole because he fucked up. That, in itself was enough to feel like death to him and he hated the fact that he messed up this bad.

"I don't know, Rafe. I'll let you know if I ever figure it out. Now, if you'll excuse me I have a party to get back too." And with that he watched you walk away, your head high and proud and your tears no longer falling for the boy and what could have been. You knew this would be better. You knew you deserved more than feeling like second best. You deserved the world, and you weren't going to have it given to you on someone else's time.

[theforesteldritch]

my ramblings on transness, intersex-ness, childhood and growing up

i'm four. somewhere around there. i tell my mom i hate my name. i want to change it to robin, i say. she tells me i can when i'm an adult. i tell her i want my name to be robin now, today. not later. i don't get to change my name. eventually i forget wanting to be robin, or drop it, or stop talking about it. either way, i don't ever get to be robin.

i'm five. i feel wrong. i feel out of place in my own skin, i think. i feel like a poor shadow of a girl. i decide i want to be a princess when i'm older. in my mind, to be a princess, i need to wear a dress every day, even when it snows and i have to stuff the skirt into my snowpants to play outside. princesses must feel like real girls. if i was a princess, i would stop feeling like a snake writhing around in my own skin, desperate to shed. i tell myself that. at recess, we play some running game. i don't remember which one. boys vs girls. i don't want to play anymore.

i'm six or seven. i still feel wrong. i've stopped trying to be a princess. i'm off in my own world a lot of the time. i use the classroom scissors to cut tiny holes in the sleeves of my long sleeve shirts or to clip off a tiny chunk of my hair. during carpet time, i try to touch the hair of the people in front of me without them noticing. my best friend tells me she's a tomboy. i say i want to be one too. she tells me im too girly.

i'm nine. i've sworn off dresses. i reject pink clothes and sequins. i'm wearing a hat that covers my hair and the school custodian calls me young man in the hallway. i don't know why i like that so much. i try to fit in with the boys. i play grounders with them every day after school. i don't know why, but they don't like me. they make fun of me. i still play grounders with them every day.

i'm twelve. the girls around me have started growing breasts and getting their periods. they start getting acne and thicker hair on their legs that they shave off. none of these things are happening to me. i ask my mom for a bra. i don't want to be the odd one out. i feel a mix of relief and shame when i get one. now, i can pretend i'm like them. now, i can try to hide the growing feeling gnawing inside me that something's wrong, that i'm a freak.

i'm thirteen. i still haven't gotten a period. my mom is convinced it'll come any day now. she got hers at eleven, i must be a late bloomer. she makes me bring pads to summer camp. they lie unused in my bags. she does this next year, too, and the next. i try to feel normal. i sneak and use my mom's razor to shave the baby hairs on my legs that still haven't darkened and grown thicker like anyone else. i want to feel normal.

i'm fourteen. the girls in the locker room stare at me with funny expressions on their faces when i say i haven't gotten a period after they badger that information out of me. i ask my parents for deodorant, like the other kids. they tell me no, i don't smell enough to need it. i steal my dad's old spice amber deodorant. it smells like how i want to be seen, i think. i read magnus chase. i see myself in alex, how his gender shifts and changes. for the first time, i have a word, maybe, to describe myself. i'm like her, i think. i'm genderfluid, maybe, like alex fierro. i test the waters and come out to some friends as genderfluid, and then a boy. but i find myself still feeling the same itch under my skin. i'm not just a man, or just a woman, maybe i'm both. i go back in the closet.

i'm fifteen. my doctor is starting to get concerned that i haven't gotten a period yet. he orders blood tests. they think the results are a mistake when they see the testosterone levels. i don't have the symptoms that should come with those levels. i should be going through a male puberty with those levels of t, but i'm not. they do them again. it comes back the same. i'm diagnosed with complete androgen insensitivity syndrome. i feel alone, and like a freak. my doctors want me to get a gonadectomy. i push away how i feel like a snake ready to shed my own skin for a moment. i can't search myself for my gender when i'm trying, i'm trying so hard to get through this. knowing that going on testosterone hrt wouldn't work on me, it would break me right now to admit to myself the truth i already know.

i'm sixteen. i'm sexually assaulted by my doctor while under anesthesia for a biopsy of my gonads. without any hint of remorse or even knowledge of what she did to me she tells my mom that my vagina is still very short, but not as short as she thought on an earlier examination. i will continue to see this doctor. i push her assault down. i push this down. i feel like a freak. i feel so alone. god, i feel alone.

i'm seventeen, i'm eighteen. i know now why i feel like a snake trying to shed a skin. i'm not just a woman, i'm not just a man. i'm both and something in between. but i'm too male to be a girl and too female to be a man. i'm not allowed to be either. i cry sometimes. over how unfair this feels. over how i'll never look in the mirror and see myself staring back. i don't know how i'll get through this. i have to get through this. i have to live for the kid who wanted to change his name to robin. the need to live for her weighs me down like atlas holding up the sky. i know that one day, my grip will slip and the sky will fall. but i'm trying desperately to make that day not today.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

If You Can't Dance 1

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Note: this is what you get when you encourage me. Please leave any and all feedback! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Part of The Club AU

“It's so nice to finally meet you in person!” Melinda beams as she holds out a bright drink. The layers of blue and purple make you wonder about its contents.

“Yeah, so awesome,” Faye hollers as she sips from a yellow cocktail. “Must be lonely working from home.”

“Oh, uh, not really,” you sway, trying to avoid the bodies around you. Your throat scrapes as you have to yell over the pumping bass. “It's…quiet.”

“Quiet!? Carly giggles, “then It's good you got out! This merger is going to be lit.”

“Lit?” Melinda, the eldest of the trio rolls her eyes, “you young ones.”

You wade with them through the crowd, the heat of the clubgoers catching beneath the wool of your sweater. You feel out of place in your dowdy pullover and long peasant skirt, especially as sequins and bright prints refract in the rainbow of lights. Even your coworkers belong, blouse sleeves rolled up and blazers handed over to the coatroom.

“Hopefully they're still down for work drinks!” Faye trills.

“Bigger and better. Work mandated cocktails should just be a thing,” Carly guffaws.

“Mmm, and what about work mandated flings?” Faye ogles past you.

You crane to follow her eyeline. You see several men, striding through the crowd with ease. Tall and not bad looking by common standards. You see nothing especially alluring but you understand what people look for; good posture, nice eyes, broad shoulders.

“Erm,” you look back and taste your drink, giving a face. “Is there alcohol in this?” You call over.

“Duh!” Carly laughs again, “oh my god, you're so adorable! Oh, you know what, you should start coming into office. We do lattes on Friday.”

“I er… don't mind….”

You don't finish your protest as the tempo shifts and Faye squeals, “oh this is my song, girls!”

They throw an arm up each, balancing their drinks in their other hands. You sniff the glass and try another gulp. You cough and hide it behind your hand. They barely notice you. No one really does, you're tiny and dressed like wallpaper.

As they shimmy and swing to the music, you don't know what to do. You wiggle awkwardly, but you don't dance and have no rhythm. You find yourself downing the drink out of anxiety.

You feel an odd sensation in your eyelids and a ripple in your brain as you get to the bottom of the drink. You copy Carly and leave your empty glass on a table. Another song and the heat beads on the nape of your neck.

The flashing lights and wall of sound makes you dizzy. You shouldn't have finished the drink. You don't feel right. You look at the others and how they giggle and joke. You don't fit in. Just like always. You know your coding and you know how to be alone.

You sidle close to Melinda, she seems like a mother, well, she kept mentioning her kids. “Is there a bathroom here?”

She laughs, amused by your obvious question, “over there.”

She points through the crowd. You see the top of a sign but not enough to read it. You smile and wave to the other girls, fleeing as they barely notice.

You get caught between a couple as you try to squeeze by. You squeal and get knocked around by a large guy on the other side of them. You're caught in a tidal wave of people as you peer desperately at the neon blue sign.

You can't get there but you need to get out of here. Your skin is on fire, your vision is streaming, and you can't breathe. The air is hot and humid and putrid.

You claw before you, forcing past the crush around you, stumbling towards the entryway. You trip out the door and heave in, gulping down cold air, trying to get your head straight. Your chest hurts and you're shaking. You need help!

You look around for anything. Anyone. The bouncers are distracted with those seeking entry and those in line don't seem to see you. You lean on the corner of the building and put your hand on your sweater.

You clutch the wool and shake your head. It's been a while since you felt this. The world spirals around you as you struggle to steady yourself. You keep your other hand on the wall and murmur. You're going to pass out.

You shouldn't have come here. You knew this would happen. But they didn't give you a choice. The email said mandatory. You need this job. What are you going to do? Everything is falling to pieces.

“Pardon me, are you alright?” A lilting voice startles you. You part from the wall, nearly falling against it as you teeter on your feet, “oh, woah, watch yourself.”

The man catches your arm, keeping you from tipping over. His touch surges in you but you know you can't stand on your own. You gulp and gurgle, fanning yourself.

“S-s-sorry,” you pants, “I just… I can't breathe.”

He leans in as you can barely speak. His blue eyes are intent on you as he keeps you upright, firm but gentle. He nods as he listens to your staggered words.

“I… too hot… inside…”

“Oh, dear, yes, I agree,” he smiles kindly, “here, why don't you…. lean here, yes,” he eases you against the brickfront, “catch your breath,” his accent is soothing, “and…” he looks around, gesturing to the bouncer, “Pardon, yes, would you fetch some water for the lady?”

The man grumbles but glances inside the club. He must know the stranger before you, “you have some water and it'll be just fine. Hmm? Will you count with me?”

You give him a bewildered look but he's already counting, “one, two, three…”

[mamaestapa]

Wait yes dad Joe with teenagers!!! I loved that dynamic. What if there’s one with like you helping your kids get ready to go to a school dance or like the kids high school football game?

All Grown Up|| Joe Burrow x reader

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•summary: You and Joe help your teenage daughters get ready for some of their first school events

•warnings: sisters arguing lol and fluff

"Which dress?" You asked, skimming through your 12 year old daughter Ivy's closet. "The pink one," she replied, growing annoyed. "I can't find it. I was going to wear it to the dance tonight." She frowned as she too looked through her closet.

"I'm not seeing it," you mumbled, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as to why you couldn't find the dress. Then it hit you. "Wait..."

You pulled your hands out of the hung up clothes, crossing your arms over your chest and giving your 12 year old a pointed look. "Are you talking about Josie's Homecoming dress from last year?"

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely not," you said, shaking your head. Ivy groaned, "Come on mom, it's so cute!"

"Yeah, for a high school Homecoming. Not your first middle school dance, Ivy."

"But mom-."

"No buts," you said cutting her off, an amused chuckle leaving your lips as you spoke, "You are not wearing a tight, lace, hot pink and sequin dress to your sixth grade dance." The young girl just rolled her eyes, clearly unhappy with your response.

"Plus," you continued, "you know your dad wouldn't let you leave the house in that."

It's true. Joe would have a fit if he saw his 12 year old daughter wearing the dress his 16 year old daughter wore for her Sophomore Homecoming dance. You and Joe always make sure to let your kids express their styles in any way that they want. You both think it's important for them to express themselves and be confident in who they are, and how they dress. However, sometimes you do interfere, but only with instances like this one.

"Fine," Ivy sighed, "I'll wear the red one instead."

"Good choice." you said, smiling warmly at your daughter. You pulled the red dress out of her closet handing it to her. Her eyes scanned over the dress, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as she looked away from the dress and up at you. "I guess this one is better. Thanks mama."

You nodded and pulled her into a hug, squeezing her gently. You pulled away from her and rubbed her back as you spoke, "I gotta check on your sisters. Go get ready, sweetie."

You left your daughters room, eyes widening as you could hear arguing coming from downstairs.

“You had them last!”

“I did not!”

“Yes you did!”

“Hey, hey!” your husband said, trying to stop the girls arguing, “Josie, they’re probably just in the wash. I’m sure Hazel didn’t touch your shorts.”

“They’re not shorts, dad.”

You chuckled softly in amusement as you walked into the room. Joe’s shoulders shrugged with a sigh, “Shorts, spandex, same thing.” he said, talking with his hands. You walked further into the room to see what the big deal was.

“What is going on in here.”

“Hazel has my cheer spandex-.” “Josie is accusing me of stealing-.” the two teenagers said at the same time before you cut them off. “Okay before you accuse your sister,” you said, looking at your oldest, “did you check the washing machine?”

“That’s what I said…” Joe mumbled under his breath to you, making a small smile pull at your lips. Josie sighed and said, “Not yet.”

“Then why are you accusing me?” your fifteen year old daughter asked, rolling her eyes at her older sister. The two started bickering back and forth, making both you and Joe sigh as you left the room. Their bickering stopped when you came back into the room holding Josie’s black cheer spanks.

“Hanging up in the laundry room.” You said, holding them out for her to grab. Josie smiled softly and walked up to you, grabbing the black spandex from your hands. “Thanks mom.” You nodded, smiling softly at your daughter, your smile only widening when Josie apologized to Hazel.

“Now, both of you finish getting ready. We’re leaving in twenty minutes to drop your sister off at her dance.” Joe said, coming up to stand next to you. The girls left the room and went upstairs to finish getting ready, leaving you and Joe in the living room by yourselves.

Joe stood behind you and snaked his arms around your middle, pulling you into his chest. You hummed and leaned into his touch. “Can you believe Josie is cheering at her first Varsity game tonight, and Hazel is going to her first high school football game?”

Joe shook his head, squeezing you gently, “No, I can’t. And Ivy going to her first middle school dance…”

You frowned slightly at the thought of all your kids growing up. It feels like just yesterday you brought Josie home from the hospital, but that was almost 17 years ago.

“Our babies are growing up Joe.” You said, voice somber as you situated yourself in Joe’s arms so that you could look up at him. He nodded, frowning slightly, “They are. At least we still have Jace.”

“But he’s growing up so fast, too. He’s already in fifth grade.” Joe nodded, “I know, but at least we’ve still got a year of elementary left with him.” You sighed softly at your husbands words, “I guess you’re right.”

Your four kids entered the living room at the same time, Jace following behind his older sisters as he ran into the living room and jumping into yours and Joe’s embrace. You laughed at your sons actions, pulling him in front of you and wrapping your arms around him. “Hi mama.” He said as he leaned into your arms.

“Hi baby,” you said softly. A wide grin was on your face as you looked at your daughters standing in front of you.

Josie was in her cheer uniform, Hazel was wearing her boyfriends practice jersey, and Ivy was dolled up for her school dance. Each of your girls dressed beautifully for different occasions.

“You three look so beautiful.” You said with a smile. Joe nodding beside you in agreement, “My girls.” He said proudly, smiling at his daughters, “You ready to go?”

The girls nodded, and with that the six of you piled into your SUV, and headed off to take your kids to their first school dance and first high school Varsity football game. Your babies were all grown up, but you and Joe couldn’t be more proud of them.

hi loves!

happy friday and happy game dey!🧡🖤

first blurb of many for dad joe blurb night!!

you guys have sent such great ideas, and i had so much fun writing them. i’ve got about 7 blurbs written already, and i’m hoping to finish a couple more later tonight.

i hope you enjoyed this one! dad joe with teenagers is an interesting concept, and it’s super fun to write lol.

more coming soon!🤍

tags: @erinmartin1987 @klips118 @burrowstyles5 @caroline1019

[wally-darling-hyperfixation]

Hi. I’m back again

Hey guys. I’m back again I’ve been going through some things and been stressed out. But I know I said I’d write things. And I swear I am. I just need yall to bully me into remembering (don’t actually bully me. Just message or put in asks to remind me). But I’ve been in a goofy movie faze. (I’ve been in this faze since I was a kid and you’ll never make me stop). And this Maxley ship is crushing me. Like ugh. Y’all can ship them. But max will always be mine in my heart lol. I mean look at this picture I found (artist name is on the picture) Just. Ughhhh. And his voice. And that he such a loveable dorky goof. I just. Can’t. Ugh. So I’ve been planning for weeks

A Goofy Movie : Max x reader

It will star you as a girl being max’s friend who is also a skater. Oh during the stand out part in school, Max had begged you to be a backup dancer like the real powerline when he planned it and you begrudgingly agreed not wanting to do it cause you like Max, you will wear a sequin dress and tights and makeup and it will be the first time Max, Pj, and Bobby see ya out of your skater clothes. Then someone records the performance and you go viral for your outfit and dancing and. Ooooooo so many ideas. I LOVE A GOOFY MOVIE

Sooooo would anyone read this? I’m making some changes in the movie to include you. Like take away some singing parts in songs and replacing it with your own words.