#twenty gremlin children in ten bodies

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

what r the names? you said you were naming the bloodmoons.

I have finished naming the gremlins. It took a while (I've been working on it since this morning after the thread), because I made it so there are two AIs per Blood Moon.

Sun's Blood Moon: Spectra & Void

Moon's Blood Moon: Apollo & Helios

Stitchwraith's Blood Moon: Blood Moon & Harvest Moon

Eclipse's Blood Moon: Phobos & Deimos

Lunar's Blood Moon: Luminosity & Prism

Solar's Blood Moon: Hypnos & Thanatos

Earth's Blood Moon: Galaxy & Cosmos

Ruin's Blood Moon: Ultraviolet & Infrared

Frank's Blood Moon: Achilles & Icarus

Jack's Blood Moon: Zodiac & Horoscope

[fic-heaven]

Ice cream incident

[Dbf! Dilf! Gustavo (Gus) Rodríguez x Reader]

(if this goes well I'll make a second part)

🐥 ok ok to come clean first of all: reader is on her late twenties and Gus is on his mid thirties, he is younger than her dad.

•[light nsfw/ reader has anxiety/social gatherings/mention of divorces/sometimes actions speak louder than words]

• A nasty breakup left you crawling back to your parents house making the already difficult feelings you had for your favorite neighbor and dad's best friend worsen, luckily he faced the same demons.

The click of the main door opening and closing accompanied by a loud "Hola!" surprised you. You quickly turned off the kitchen's tv abandoning the empty ramen cup on the counter, quickly fixing your hair you exhale and rush to greet your neighbor.

It wasn't uncommon for Gustavo Rodríguez to suddenly appear in your house, he was your dad's best friend and he usually made him favors helping him fix something around the house or taking care of your little sister when none of you could. He usually stayed on your porch to watch over his daughter Maria and your sister Brianna while enjoying some beers and laughs with your old man. You never complained, every time he arrived your ten year old sister was less gremlin-like, your dad was happier, your mom could take a break and god he was hot as hell. And honesty? Ever since you moved to your parents house again after a nasty breakup with your boyfriend and started interacting more with your hot neighbor... You begun to think he thought you were just as hot.

"Hey teddy bear~." Your purr startling the man and you couldn't help but smile wickedly from the kitchen's door leaning on it's frame.

As always, the nickname made the rican laugh nervously and shift his body compleatly towards the now closed front door pretending to check on the bags he was carrying so you wouldn't see the apples of his cheeks flush red with warmth. But you knew better. And his handsome boy-ish smile was worth peeking over. Sneaking a few steps closer to his back you playfully pinched his side and peeked from his shoulder to address his embarrassed face. He looked at you in momentary shock not expecting you to appear so close so fast.

His nervous crackle shook his chest but Gus played it cool mumbling "Hola cielo. Your mom home?"

You shook your head with a no and pointed at the four grocery bags he was carrying.

"Eso es-... Your old man told me to drop these here." His warm overly sweet voice was music to your ears, you directed your attention to the bags' contents. With a finger you opened one of them a little wider to see ice cream of various flavours. Your brow arched as you took a step back now fully inspecting the man before you.

Gustavo stood there a little awkward under your intense gaze, his shy smile never weavers when your eyes scanned his outfit up and down. He was wearing plane black, damp-looking swim trunks, to your dismay the pink cap flattening part of his wild raven curls was not the icing of the cake but the garment adorning his torso. The goofball wore a pastel pink t-shirt with 'barbie' written in huge letters right in the middle, no doubt something he picked to match his daughter for today's super fun plan the dads from the neighborhood made while the moms enjoyed the day with a plan for themselves. You not being part of the dads and lil children nor the moms group decided to spend part of your day home chilling and watching Netflix waiting for your little sister to burst in and drag you out for the pool party in Gustavo's house. Lucky you, said man was the one to greet you. Though you couldn't help but feel a little nervous being around him wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt from your favorite band.

"You uh... Got your swimsuit ready?" He said breaking your train of thought.

You blinked up at him in pure amusement. "Did you come all this way to ask me that?"

"Dios, actually... My freezer got busted when we were half finished readying the pool... Your pa told me we could use his to stock the ice cream and beers." Gus held the bags a little higher with an exasperated sigh clearly irritated by the betrayal of his expensive freezer.

You took a hold of two other bags ignoring his protests and then turned around signaling with a head tilt to come along, Gus complied quickly nodding knowing he couldn't deny your help.

You both went back to the kitchen unpacking the bags' contents. Warmth spread through your chest when he gave you the softest of smiles in silent appreciation for your help with the bags. That made you realize, it was common for Gus to be in your home but it was uncommon for you two to actually spend time alone, though the air was charged with something you couldn't quite pinpoint, it was not uncomfortable at all and with some playful totally friendly teasing and small talks here and there you guys didn't feel the slightest put off by the lack of people in the house. "Hah, look at that. Fix-it-Gus finally got defeated by something he couldn't fix!" That earned a bitter laugh from the big man, you purposely slowed your steps just to feel him closer to your backside when he brought the other bag to the counter you were leaning on, surprisingly enough he was ready for this but instead of moving away he rested a hand on your waist and placed the last bag on the counter pressing half of his chest to your heated back "Agh! Freezers! My kryptonite..." You giggled at this, patting and pinching his cheeck in fake comfort as you whined "What will happen when our freezers die on us? We won't be able to call SuperGus to fix 'em. It'll be our doom." His honey eyes crinkled in amusement by the silly nickname pausing his hands from reaching the beers, he puffed out his chest and flexed his biceps in the air mocking a heroic pose and doing his best to impresionate Superman's voice "Fear not, señorita! SuperGus doesn't FREEZE in the face of danger!" He laughed at his own dad joke and you couldn't help but join along, if not for the terrible joke, for his contagious and youthful laughter. God he was so stupidly handsome you wanted to grab him by the mat of black curls and give him the sloppiest kiss.

Gus pretended not to feel your body get impossibly hotter when his side pressed against yours once again in a playful shove, his moustache tilted to the side with a half smile, hooded eyes darkened by his cap still took in your beautiful lips shining the gorgeous smile his horrid humour managed to lit from you. There was silence then. The air between you felt much suffocating than before, luckily you were not the only one who could feel the heat, Gus' palms got sweatier and sweatier by the second, he wiped them down his trunks moving his head to the side but discreetly peeking a shy look your way, his smile ever so present. You shook your head breaking the momentary tension and opened the freezer to put the ice cream cones and containers Gus carefully passed you. You will never admit aloud that the few times your fingers brushed each other's to take the frozen sweets was intentional. HE wouldn't admit it either. You two were so adamant on touching each other one way or another you looked like two teenagers with a crush despite the age gap and it was just so refreshing to feel this way all over again.

"Fuck-" he perked up at this "there's not enough space..." you grunt standing up from your crouched position. "We could use the spare freezer?" Gus offered, his voice lowering a whole fucking octave and something from his tone made you feel the heat relit within you. He wanted to go to the garage, the most secluded place of the house.

Last month you brought your own freezer and your dad made quick place for it in the garage near his working bench using it to cool his hidden beers (don't tell mom) and other stuff that wouldn't fit in the kitchen, that and the little TV you also brought turned half of the garage into his perfect man cave, you didn't see your father in one fucking week because of his obsession with his little special spot of the house. Somehow going there alone with Gus made a wave of arousal hit your senses... God you were going crazy over this guy. You weren't even supposed to think this way... He was your father's best friend, fucking hell.

"Earth to (Y/n)~ You alright, bunny?" Gus asked teasingly waving his massive palm to your face.

"Huh? Sure, yeah? Yeah, why not..."

Gus took a step closer and lifted your chin with one meaty finger, it was hard to see what his unreadable expression hid specially with the cap shading his honey eyes that seemed to glow the longer you two locked eyes. Your hands cupped the hand that held up your chin, the Rican tensed suddenly shocked by the view of your big doe eyes entranced by him and your wet pouty lower lip popping out cutely, the softness of your hands cupping his clammy hand so softly like he was made of porcelain, it was that and the big oversized shirt that gave you a certain innocent look, the whole picture made a chill run down Gus' spine, this was wrong. He swallowed down his disgusting thoughts carefully hidden with an uncharacteristic blank look that made you feel slightly uneasy. He parted his lips, and whispered in a low raspy voice "Niña, why don't ya... Go upstairs, change yourself and join the others in my backyard? I'll uh, take care of the whole ice cream situation." You didn't answer, you were hypnotized by the sound of his voice, the fruity smell of his gel, pool water and sweat and his addicting body warmth. Gus chose to take your silence for an answer, he threw you a quick forced smile averting his heated gaze, his hands hurried away from you to lower down and grab the last two bags, not looking back he begin walking to exit the kitchen's door. Your hand shot to his forearm stopping him abruptly midway.

Keep it together (y/n)...

"My swimwear is still packed on a box in the garage so I'll come along! Surely SuperGus could help a damsel in distress pick a bikini for the party?" You purred passing by his frozen body and blocking his way from the door, he stood there about to say something though he wasn't even sure exactly what but stopped when your hand took a weak grasp of his pastel shirt's edge urging him to once again follow your lead. His smile, previously forced, lit up pushing the apples of his cheeks upwards in a genuine smile making his eyes crinkle at your antics. "Ay bendito... You really need my help with that?" His wavering voice protested, the low sensual tone of it still present.

"Seeing your outfit today I'm sure you'll do great picking a bikini for me." you walked out of the kitchen with him hot on your heels since you were still pulling carefully at his ridiculous shirt. "Never knew you were one to deny a lady's help" you said in fake hurt, he waltzed to meet your steps much closer careful not to bump you with the bags he carried and poked at your ticklish left side making you yelp. "Hey-! Never. It'll be an honor to help you pick your swimwear, bun-bun" Gus said in an overly sweetened voice almost sounding like a parent cooing to his baby. You scrunched your nose and rolled your eyes and he laughed once more with that beautiful childish crackle of his.

Reaching the garage you smacked the light switch, the obnoxious Christmas lights your father decorated the place with twinkled happily almost blinding the garage's yellow bulb giving the space a pub-kind of vibe. Gus' eyes widened and he slowed his steps taking the place in with a flabbergasted gasp.

"Que corrongo-!! Didn't know your viejo had the time to put this place together! Last time I saw it'looked as ugly as the back of a freezer." Gus marvelled inspecting the place, his arms swayed with the weight of the bags as he moved around like a kid on a toy store. You paid little mind to his excited demeanor that worryingly mirrored your dad's the day he finished adding the finishing touches to this hell of a man-cave, as you left Gus day-dreaming while taking care of the ice cream and the freezer in the far corner of the wall you went to seek the box with the rest of your summer clothes.

To Gus, the garage looked like the first tree house your dad and him build as teenagers in the back of his grandmother's house. He placed the two bags on the neatly organized working bench and kneeled to start stocking the ice cream on the low freezer with a soft smile reminiscing the hours they spent there sharing stories, trying their first cigars and first beers, crying about ex girlfriends, eating quesadillas, falsifying their mothers' signatures for school letters and sharing secrets. He sighs thinking about the day he revealed he was seriously pondering the idea of enlisting, how nervous he was of his best friend's reaction after his whole family cloaked him with their overprotectiveness, and the tears of relief when his friend comfortingly patted his shoulder and encouraged him to do what he thought was right "Bud, you are always eager to help everyone. it would suit you alright for sure!" In less than a year Gus ended up studying and working out hard to enlist after he graduated highschool until he fell in love with Alice, his ex wife who forced him to drop his dream in order to replace said dream with hers. Making a family, having a normal peaceful life, being oblivious to the dangers in the world and doing nothing to stop them. Gus wasn't happy about this but he loved his wife too much to complain, it didn't bother him much that your dad didn't get along with Alice nor the cold bite of an "I told you so" he gave Gus the day he found out she was cheating on him with his own college from work, it was the disappointment of your father what made him shudder to this day. The day he divorced his wife was the day awareness struck Gus with force. He cared so much about his best friend's opinion that fixing things with him and reinforcing their friendship was worth ten painful divorces. Your dad was the second most important person in Gustavo's life, the first one being his lovely daughter Maria.

That's why he felt a wave of shame when he finished with the freezer to turn around and be met with the view of your perfect round ass pointing in the air thanks to your crouched position searching for the bikini box. The arousal hit his brain faster than a fucking bullet, his trunks felt tight, his caramel skin clammy, and something seemed to have dropped on his stomach. Though even with the feeling of shame his golden eyes ate up the shape of your bum hungrily without restrain, he wanted to rip that fucking short so bad. He had to bite back a groan and flex his hands nervously trying to get rid of the effect you had on him. Fuck what would your father think of him now...

Unbeknownst to him you knew what you were doing, moving your ass pointlessly here and there, letting out soft sighs and groans of "frustration" for failing to find the bloody box.

"Mae... Need a hand?"

You needed more than his fucking hands for sure.

With a little jump you got to your feet and smiled so sweetly it drove him crazy, "You think SuperGus could help me find the bloody white box?" Gus smiled politely controlling his breathing methodically and killing off the erection by thinking about the elephant in the room, said elephant being the fact that you were his best friend's daughter. Gosh he was a lost cause wasn't he...?

There were a few grocery bags in his path to get to you, so he took them in order to place them to the corner of the table you were now leaning on to support your lower backside. Your hungry eyes did not go unnoticed. Naughty girl...

Naughty girl who did the unthinkable when he was close enough to reach. He grunted in surprise.

Gus' fists clenched on his sides with enough force to break the weak, thin handles of the bags that were abruptly dropped and left laying awkwardly on the floor. The thud of them colliding against the floor however, was not loud enough to break the spell between you two. Your hand gave a tentative squeeze around his soft clothed shaft, his Adam's apple bobbed with a gulp yet he didn't mutter a single word, panic and arousal settled within him when his eyes darted to the nearby wall. You just moved one of your delicate and kissable hands to take a good grip on his half-hard covered cock. Just what the fuck is going on? Has he gone mad? Was this another one of his wet dreams about you? Was he really awake?

Your eyes shot to every small movement from his face searching for any indication that might give away his melting selfcontrol. Gus' eyes were half focused on the wall behind you silently fighting with slow blinks not to look at you nor your sneaky hand, his moustache covered his mouth like a curtain hiding his plush frowned lips you wanted to bite on so badly and his cap shading his golden eyes from the bloody Christmas lights making you frown struggling to find any hint within them of what the hell he was thinking about while you groped his cock.

His chest heaved like that of a man who just ran a marathon, his breaths getting heavier and heavier by the second as your fingers traced and squeezed his bulge paying attention to the head of his dick, you smile as he slowly moved his head up to stare at the ceiling blinking rapidly for a moment with his body still rigid and unwavering a soft almost inaudible whimper scape his mouth that he bit back mauling on his lower lip, his hands shook and clenched so tightly it looked painful.

Yet he did not say a word.

Your greed made you do what you so desperately were craving to for the whole fucking morning and probably since the very first time you saw him shirtless.

You lift part of his shirt with your other unoccupied hand as your right hand palmed and rubbed him more firmly, his hairy abs spasmed at the feel of your fingers squeezing his leaking tip. Your left hand held his shoulder, your thumb keeping the edge of the pink shirt up giving you full view of one of his enormous pectorals and his well-built lower torso. You instinctively licked your lips at the sight of his dark nipple, your hungry stare lifted at the sound of the trembling sigh that fell from his lips. Gus was still standing there unmoving, his skin hot and slick of sweat and pool water, the caramel color gave a certain golden glisten with the small window's light that made it look sinfully delicious, his body was a wall of muscle covered by soft tan skin with one beauty mark here and there, it's dark small curls of hair made it the more tentative to lay your mouth on every inch of his bidy savouring his taste greedily. Never in your life have you felt the urge to lick someone's sweat off until now that you had one of Gustavo's enormous tits inches from your face.

He wanted to say something. That much was clear when his chin lowered the tiniest bit, his hands untensed, Adam's apple bobbed once more then his lips slowly parted, his eyes were sealed shut as if Gus dared to sneak a look at your antics the magic in the air would simply evaporate. You took it as an invitation to keep going. You leaned closer to his pec, the rich smell of his skin invading your senses and the feel of his erect nipple against the teasing grace of your lips made your pussy leak. With your full focus on his bare chest, your right hand abandoned his aching cock and firmly pressed the underside of his massive teat lifting it enough to accommodate his nipple in between your lips. You gave his nipple one wet kiss. Only one. And the contact sparked a shock through his body big enough for him to snap from the frozen trance he was in, Gus' hands shot to take your waist. You expected him to shove you away, but soon one of them travelled to your right hand yanking your wrist downwards redirecting your hand to it's previous position, now his cock was fully erect and it's length and girth made your breath hitch, you took it and his hand that still covered yours urged you to squeeze harder as his muscular thighs parted the tiniest bit as to accommodate your hand giving short slow thrusts against your palm, he sighed in relief ignoring the alarms from the back of his brain.

In a moment your heavy breaths sync, his tearful eyes opened to fully look down at you revealing the hot desire within his dilated pupils, the honey color of them glistened with his tears of shame, his lower lip quivers, the rustling of his swimming trunks as his hips snapped forward and backwards in slow and hard rolling motions against your hand made you bite back a sound. He whimpered.

"How pathetic" his mind lamented , "how beautiful" yours sighed.

And then, your lips babbled a breathless...

"A-ask me to stop."

You don't know what possessed you to say that, wether from his unshed tears or his desperate thrusts against your palm, both of his hands supporting your wrist to apply more pressure against his erection and puffing his chest in a silent beg to feel your mouth around his nipple, perhaps a combination of all those reckless gestures and adorable expression made you mumble that.

"(Y/n)..." His voice was liquid honey just like his tearful eyes still shadowed by his stupid pink cap. His lips quivered once more, he wanted to kiss you so badly, he wanted to thrust his chest on your mouth, he wanted to feel your wet cavern around his cock, your teeth abusing the supple flesh of his chest, your eyes to never leave his, your voice to grant him the pleasure of hearing your moans of his name, for him to keep going, to make you HIS. Not to ask him to deny your desires, keep ignoring the cries of your hearts every time one of you met the other in any other place with some other person present. He was finally alone with you, the moment you said your mother wasn't here and knowing your father sent him, it was like the stars alined finally gifting you both the moment you had been desperately craving. Gus felt like this whole hour was a fucking dream, when you touched his member was like you hauled him high into the heavens to finally, FINALLY make the move he had been fantasizing to make for a long time.

"Please, I... Just say it..." Your voice whispered softly. You can't mutter those words while you keep masturbating him and instantly mouth down his chest french-kissing the hell out of his nipple without expecting him to moan so shamefully throwing his head back blinded by the overwhelming feeling of your warm tongue and eager hands. He felt young again, when he sneaked out of class to meet his little girlfriends and make out in some hidden corner of the school.

But this time it was different, it was better but also worse because it was YOU.

Gus had you caged against the table hauling you up to sit on the edge, your legs found their place around his hips, your mouth abandoned his tit with a wet, loud pop to moan at the feeling of his big hands cupping your lower back and pulling you impossibly closer to thrust his erection against your covered pussy ruining with your own fluids those slutty shorts he was seconds closer to rip off with his mouth.

"Kiss me, carajo... Just- just kiss me."

Kiss me, let's try to forget we are not supposed to do this. Let's pretend we are not in a rush to meet the others at the pool. Let's pretend you are not my best friend's daughter, let's pretend your family hold so much trust in me they made you and your little sister call me uncle Gus without knowing uncle Gus touched himself every night at the thought of you, of how much you had grown and matured, the way you clearly desired him too. He didn't know of the nights you touched yourself begging any deity to carry you back in time and give your eighteen year old past self enough courage to had asked him to be your first instead of the toxic boy from highschool you ended up being years with and eventually moving in together, you remember imagining Gus' face every time you made love to your ex. But there was no need anymore. Not when he was here dry humping you and whimpering your name right next to your ear like a horny teenager.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, you were a panting mess thanks to Gus' cock humping your covered sex into oblivion making the table rattle violently at the force of his thrusts. You were about to launch for his lips already imagining the ticklish yet stinging feel of his facial hair on your delicate skin when his hands gripped your shoulders to move you further from his face stopping his thrusts compleatly. You blinked in surprise still panting and confused, his movements had slowed down, he was panting as well with eyes wide in alarm. His head shot to the side when silence engulfed you, your heart broke thinking of his rejection but then you heard it as well. Small steps rushing to the garage's door.

Gus rushed backwards leaving you breathless and astonished still processing just what the hell was going on with your pulses loud in your eardrums.

"There you are uncle Gus! (Y/n)? What are you two doing here?" A

Brianna rushed downstairs to meet you two, her chanclas making a funny clapping noise against the garage's floor when she got to your side. Gus was quick to rearrange his pants hardly covering the enormous erection on the front.

"Brianna-" you growled but Gus interrupted in a rush "honey, you are not supposed t'be here. Did you come all this way from the party? We-we were stocking the snacks."

Your little sister had a funny look on her face like something wasn't quiet settling well within her at the excuse. She was too smart for her own good at times. "Yeah, well. Maria wanted me to tell you her mom was back?" Your sister said, Gus' spine straightened, his boner now definitely died as his brain dissected her words. His face changed compleatly, he looked serious and cold it kind of startled you both how quickly he went from flustered to serious in a matter of seconds.

"Also, (y/n) I'm gonna snitch on you! I told you to stop leaving your ugly swimsuits on my wardrobe!!" You no longer gave a crap about your sister accidentally uncovering your lie about the placement of your swimwear too concerned on how Gus took the information she just spilled about his ex wife.

"I'm gonna dress up..." You said jumping off the table's edge. "Gus, you alright?"

Your hand trailed to touch him, to make yourself known, to reassure him he wasn't alone in this... But you stopped yourself before reaching his shoulder, of course he noticed and understood, but it broke you to see a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

He exhaled, his body was tense all over again but not like moments before, it was the ugly reminder that he himself invited the woman previously mentioned to spend a fun day with her ex neighbours and their child. How could he have forgotten? Fuck...

"Si, bunny. Get yourself ready, we'll wait for you downstairs yeah?" The yeah was said softly, a discreet way of confirming this wasn't over. You sighed in relief, gave him a tight-lipped smile and left with your sister pushing and pulling you annoyingly. The little monster was a cockblock she wouldn't live that one down for sure.

__

There was cheerful music to keep the mood of the party lively sounding from Gus' monster Smart TV in the living room the windows were open so the music would be heard all over the place, snacks hanged around in tiny plates here and there for people to mix up with the bbq your dad and some other guy was preparing, conversatios were heard here and there, all the neighbours seemed to be making themselves comfy in the Rodriguez residence.

The backyard, the living room and the kitchen had guests scattered here and there moving around to greet and talk to each other, the moms had long arrived before you guys made it back to the party. Your group of three dispersed, Gus rushing to greet the new guests whispering a low "see you around, bunnies" and Brianna ran past everyone to the backyard compleatly ignoring the chorus of coos and hellos from your neighbours. You decided to follow after her a little put off by the amount of people locked in one room.

Little children splashed water, chased each other and generally just had the greatest fun together under the summer sun, your little sister didn't waste a second before joining them and look around for Maria. You found the girl before she could, she was sitting on the swing, with her adorable curly ponytails swaying back and forth with her movements. She was breathtaking, her hair and fair skin resembled her father and her bright olive eyes and freckles were a perfect copy of her mother's.

You remember seeing a picture of them three on a wall when you passed the bathroom's hallway the first time you visited Gustavo's house with your dad. You also remember catching him staring at the picture more than once with his back always facing you, you wonder just what exactly his heart and mind whispered to him everytime he saw that happy moment with his wife photographed and hanged on the wall when his family was whole. Perhaps... He was happier then than he is now.

Gus showed up rushing to tickle his daughter's side making the girl burst into giggles and cry out at her daddy for picking her up like a baby right in front of her friends, Gus of course didn't listen, he digged his moustache on Maria's chubby cheek kissing her soundly, her pink Barbie dress catching on her father's strong arm. Until another person joined them, a woman with forest eyes, blonde short hair and a matching pink shirt with the barbie logo on it.

Gus' smile looked genuine thanks to his daughter's presence, but it was different than the one he had on the picture. His ex wife sat on the other swing with Maria rushing to hug her mother tightly. In the tender scenario they looked like a happy family again, you could tell by the longing on his ex's eyes she had missed him, and even by the distance you could tell your sweet neighbor reciprocated such feeling. And that made something churn uncomfortably on your stomach.

For a moment you allowed the little demon living inside your head to spurt it's evil comments.

"He is too good for you, you are no match for her, you will never be what he needs, what he truly deserves."

You will never be enough. You weren't enough for Brad, that idiot you wasted years of your life with and you will surely not be enough for a man such as Gustavo.

But yet again you were looking at things too deeply again, right? Fuck... You would kill to be at his ex wife's place right now, cradling a daughter you will surely never have, Gustavo's strong arms wrapping around you into a warm welcoming hug. But then again, they were separated , surely you were looking too deeply into things.

Minutes turned into hours.

Your dad was laughing and talking in the pool with the other dads and some other moms, some of the kids were napping on Gus' guest room and others were playing card games with the old retired police sarge who you believe is Gus' old mentor, some other kids were bathing with the dads or enjoying some leftovers.

Even the pizza guy eventually joined the party because that was Gustavo Rodríguez's magic! He could talk anyone into joining him to an asado or simply chill out. The pizza guy, Eric, quickly became your company for the party because as much as you wanted to rush to Gustavo's side everytime he passed by, the presence of his ex wife trailing behind stopped you from doing so. You weren't exactly a social butterfly, you were fine with gatherings but didn't truly have many friends here in this side of the town, you left them all behind when your broke up with your boyfriend. Eric was a little younger than you and a nice kid for sure, he worked delivering pizza at his uncle's pizzeria while he dealt with whatever he was studying, you wanted to pay attention to what he shared you truly did. But the feeling of Gus' eyes on you when he thought you weren't watching distracted your already foggy mind.

You two were sitting on two abandoned plastic chairs near a group of adults who talked and laugh loudly over the music, the atmosphere was still cheerful yet you could feel your own tension and jealousy rising the longer you paid unconscious attention to Alice playing Mrs. Rodriguez catching up with her old neighbours and Gustavo, laughing and batting her eyelashes like she was at her own element.

"You look beautiful, by the way."

Huh?

"What?" You looked at Eric apologetically clutching your drink with both hands and adjusting yourself in the suddenly uncomfortable chair. He let scape a sincere smile, tender like his pink cheeks, soft like his wild lilac-tainted locks. His eyes looked tired, surely because of the many hours of study and work the poor boy spent squeezing on his already tight agenda, your throat constricted at the urge of tenderly dragging the pad of your thumb under his eye bags.

"Beautiful, you look beautiful." Your heart fluttered uncomfortably, it wasn't common for you to get complimented, not because you looked bad but because you barely interacted with anyone, yet those words... those words were spoken by the wrong lips, only one man could make your heart squeeze JUST right by saying them.

The man in question was currently man-spreading on one of the few dry chairs like a king on his throne, his hand squeezed an armrest and the other one supported his cheek as he pretended to listen at what the hell his ex wife has been telling him for this past hour. He truly was trying to listen to her, there were so many conversations piling on each other, many words were spoken here and there and somehow the moment Eric spoke that sentence so casually to none other than you, his interest perked. He didn't straight up throw daggers at Eric (like you wished he had), but he straightened up the tiniest bit from his relaxed posture, his calm face turning a little hard, no one could tell the change but his ex wife who massaged his shoulder in order to ease him into sharing what was bugging him.

That in exchange made you lean closer to Eric and dismiss his compliment entirely laughing like a fluttered teenager. Even your parents arched a brow at this but honestly? Your selfishness won over, you wanted some short of payback for the uncomfortable feeling of jealousy settling in your gut at the view of Alice eating up all of Gus' attention to the point that some guests even thought they actually came back together. If only they knew...

Wait, if only they knew what? There's nothing to fucking know... But GOD, for real?

Was this really the woman who cheated on Gustavo? Because her puppy demeanor sure as hell contradicted her interest for other men. Gus played nice in return, friendly, kind and familiar. The good old Gus, the Gus everyone knows and who knows everyone. But he never pushed away the moves Alice made to hint him to save all of his attention for her.

The subtle smiles? He would smile back tenderly.

The winks here and there? He stick out his tongue playfully.

The brushes here and there? He would offer his arm for her to take and be guided by him around the crowd like a princess.

That fucking thing she was doing right now? The way she was playing with his locks, twirling, brushing and playfully pulling on his charcoal curls... he shook his head like dog with an adorable squint and Alice laughed in awe by his adorable response and at the sound of this his arm went to the backrest of her chair.

You couldn't help it.

Your abruptly stand almost knocking Eric off of his chair who was too fucking close to you, your lungs surely had been breathing his exhales for half an hour.

"Everyone, i'm on ice cream duty. I'll be back right back alright?"

You were met with chorus of grown-ass adults and children cheering for the frozen goodies, your mother stood up quickly and squeezed your arm.

"Darling enjoy the party, I'll deal with the snacks at home alright?" Your mom gave you a little smile sneaking a look at Eric.

There is no way your mom is trying to set you up with someone. Not the fucking pizza guy, mom. JESUS.

"Mom I think I'm cool, I'll be right-"

"Nonsense!"

You were not going to argue with your mother about this so you gulped down any forming protest and sat down with a defeated look.

Your mother went past you to leave for ice cream duty, the conversations seemed to just get louder, Alice never for a fucking second stopped talking with Gus and now was massaging one of his hands concretely his ring finger as he looked down to their conjoined hands carefully picking up what she was whispering, Maria and Brianna started chasing around Gus' poor old dog almost knocking the drinks from the table, Eric's chair rattled like nails on a bloody blackboard when he closed the distance again, he was hot yeah but his pizza breath and obvious hints for you to leave the party with him right in front of your glaring father were starting to drive you crazy. So with no excuse left to say, you stood up again and walked inside the house.

You ignored a few questioning looks, surely your body language made clear to any bystander you needed to be alone for a fucking minute. Somehow the convention of... of pretty much everything at the party was doing something to your head because you felt so tired, so overwhelmed that taking a breather on the front porch of the house was a must.

You caught some guests at the door making way for them to get inside after their short smoking break, you gave them a forced smile as you passed them by walking towards the grass and sat down.

Your brain was foggy or perhaps empty? You couldn't tell, the only thing you knew for certain was that this party was too much after the moment you had with Gus back home.

A shaky sight broke out of you, your arms wrapped around your shoulders failing to push down the ugly chill that ran through your spine.

And then a question popped in you head.

Were you okay with what happend? You were, gosh... Gus was a good man, a kind man, he was attractive and worked tirelessly to make everyone's life easier specially for his daughter.

But was he okay with this?... What if he was second-guessing himself and what happened? What if he was going all soft and tender over his ex wife because of the guilt he felt?

Imagining Gus' sweet face twisted in a heartbreaking expression of hurt and disconfort made your heart crack. What if he was ignoring you on purpose? What if he chose to stop fucking talking to you? What if he thought you were messing with him? He has a reputation around the neighborhood, the sweet single dad from Costa Rica with a heart of gold and amazing cooking skills. Maybe he thought you wanted to crack into that beautiful picture everyone had of him, made every single person in this neighborhood, maybe in his job or even his family back in his country think he was a monster who seduced his best friend's daughter into fooling around.

Fuck ... fuck...

You thought of your ex boyfriend throwing your stuff out of the window of your last home, throwing you to the streets. Maybe he saw what you did not see in yourself... A selfish prick.

Your eyes squeeze when you bite back a whimper digging your chin to your chest, lowering your head in between your knees, your arms wrapping around your legs in support.

"Mami, hey ..."

You didn't hear him come, his chanclas were left next to the front door he had walked the grass barefooted and approached you, his giant shade shielding you from the dying sun. You didn't move a muscle nor dared to speak not trusting your voice right now, you couldn't even find a reason to explain just why the fuck you were feeling this way.

Suddenly the air changed, a fruity smell delightfully hit your senses and it made you rise your head a little from your crouched position, your eyes peaking from your locks. Gus was kneeling in front of you with the sweetest smile you had ever fucking witnessed, his big moustache was no match to cover the smile that stretched his cheeks upwards, his half moon-shaped eyes crinkled adorably. His cap was off must have left it with Alice, wild curls rained down his sides and swayed with the gentle summer breeze of the upcoming night. You wanted to cry there. He was simply so angelic... Was he here to confirm your fears? To break the news of his discomfort about the whole situation back in the garage?

"Gus I..." he hushed you, both of his hands cupping your cheeks successfully lifting your head compleatly. His smiled upturned the tiniest bit as his golden eyes inspected you in silence, you blushed.

In a blink your bodies moved, you went to kneel with the aid of his hands now holding you carefully close like a wounded dove. His body heat felt too wonderful to be real, you two embraced there. For anyone passing this was a normal comforting hug between two friends. But for you it meant much more. Gosh, how delusional are you?

Gus knew what he was doing, he understood you needed space but he also knew you didn't quite want it. He understood the important of silence, that some words couldn't simply describe thoughts and feelings of one's self. His arms wrapped loosely around your kneeled form, but you pressed your face agaibst his chest firmly demanding more pressure, he obliged.

Soon enough you two cuddled on the grass, your arms around his neck and face pressed against his skin, trying to blind your senses with his scent and heat, he was caressing your thigh drawing mindless patterns with his fingers, his other hand supporting himself from the grass, the rican's soft hum rattled his chest and throat like a purr. He was humming Yellow by Coldplay, a song you were fairly certain your sister picked because she was a huge Coldplay fan.

You hummed along, making him smile once more, he rocked you both along the song with his eyes closed shut.

But soon a russtle under him made his eyelids flutter open meeting your face looking up at him. He lifted his hand brushing your cheek lightly, at that point the ugly demon nesting on your brain had dozed off, the remnants of the past ugly thoughts had left you feeling tired and dizzy, or perhaps it was Gus' sweet scent. Or maybe the way he was softly looking at you.

Or the realization that the way he was looking at you now wasn't at all like the image you painted in your head with his expression broken and betrayed, no. He looked at you with softness, with care, love. His eyes sparkled the same way like the younger more inexperienced Gus from the family picture on the bathroom's hallway did.

His forehead pressed against yours, your noses nuzzled when you moved your head side to side, a chuckle erupting from him at this little gesture. He looked awestruck, the light had dimmed then, like the sun had hid it's light on his eyes and he never made a move to redirect it from your face, from your lips...

Your hand trembled lightly when you cupped his cheek and nuzzled his face the way he did to yours. He closed his eyes then and so did you.

Words were not needed when you could hear both of your hearts beating the same way at the same time. How your pulse quickened when his lips finally touched yours sealing your worries away, the soft grass and Yellow sounding in the background were the only things keeping you from floating away. Gus lips felt so fucking plush and perfect against your own, and the millisecond after you kissed him a little harder a dreamy little hum scaped him, his hands squeezing your cheek as yours found their way tangled on his locks at the back of his neck. Fuck he tasted too good, you needed more.

But your pulse dropped the moment you heard an ice cream container hit the pavement.

Your mother's eyes eating the image before her, his expression almost unsurprised. Almost.

"Mom-"

[songofmadness]

Not my usual thing for this blog but:

I grew up in back country Australia

Our only source of transport for many years was an ancient Toyota Hilux

EVERY SINGLE ASPECT OF THIS IS ENTIRELY UNSURPRISING TO ME

When our family acquired the dreadful old beast had rust holes in the floor you could drop a toddler through

I know this because my mother insisted they be covered over out of concern that my brother and I (toddlers) (and also horrible chaotic gremlins, wise in the ways of the carseat, capable of achieving freedom with our horrible sticky little gremlin paws) would wriggle out gremliny way out at the truckstop

and like, live out our days (more)feral in the bush

we were admittedly already pretty feral

She demonstrated this fact by pushing a blanket down into the worst hole, thus more or less protecting my chubby sticky toddler body as she lowered me into the rusty abyss

I survived sans blood poisoning, no coming after my mum, she was awesome.

Also I used to have photographic proof of this idiocy but alas, dad kept all the photos after she died.

not the point

anyway, dad welded some scrap metal over the holes, tidied up the majority of the structural rust and lo! we had a hilux.

In the course of the ten years I lived with my parents, this tireless (and occasionally tyreless) beast crossed the length and breadth of australia, to the point that the odometer ran out of numbers

it was once abandoned for two days in a flooded creek

it was driven into many ditches and the odd tree, courtesy of my father being a drunken fool, and my older siblings learning to drive from said drunken fool

once my mum cut across fifteen k's of very rough terrain to shave some time off the journey to the hospital bc my lungs are useless and were trying to kill me in the night.

probably saved my life with that one.

another time we were doing about 100k down the interstate when a suicidal kangaroo flung itself into a very messy death on the bullbars. the windscreen spiderwebbed and it generally scared the shit out of us all but that was about it. dad got out, surveyed the damage, swore a bit and then field dressed the roo, chucked it in the bed and drove us to the next truckstop where he bribed a very oily man with a half box of beer and some of the meat to do a rush job on replacing the windscreen.

the rush job was necessary as we were in the process of fleeing the state. because my dad was an appalling wanker in a lot of ways, but thats a whole separate issue.

my brother and i (horrible bastard gremlin children, remember?) once set fire to the ute WHILE SAT AT THE BOWSER IN A TRUCKSTOP.

I have no clear memory of just why I decided we should do this. Presumably because we were horrible feral gremlins who desired chaos?

and self immolation, for some reason.

Dad returned, saw the spreading flames and with remarkable calmness given the situation, climbed in, fired it up (lol) and drove us twenty metres down the road. Whereupon he pulled us out, and extinguished the spreading flames.

I was belted for nearly killing myself and my brother (honestly, fair. again, dad was a dick but i kinda see where he was coming from with this one)

The ute WAS FINE.

Hiluxes are unkillable.

Pretty sure the ute outlived both of them.

cant stop thinking about this video

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“Babysitting” - Jared Cameron x Reader

Clueless Jared helps you babysit your little cousins for the night. One is like six months old and the other is like twelve. this is the ideal combo for this

“(Y/N), the much smaller one is yelling!” Jared says in a panic, holding the baby like it was a ticking time bomb. 

“Jared, hold her closer. Like it’s a baby and not like something on fire.” I roll my eyes. 

“When does this one sleep?” He asks as he pulls little Rae closer to his chest. 

“Probably soon, she how she stopped crying when you held her close?” I smile, walking over closer.

“Yeah, she’s cute when she’s not screaming.” His vibrant smile warmed my heart.

“Maybe we can lay her down and spend time with Ashton.” I encourage.

Ashton was twelve and adored everything about Jared. He wanted to be just like him when he grew up. Imagining a world with two Jared Camerons was a bit daunting, but I loved their relationship and wouldn’t trade it for the world. It warmed my heart to no end. 

“Yeah, he probably wants to hang out with me.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure. He’s been counting down the days until we got to babysit again.” I smile, taking Rae from his arms. 

A few minutes later, she finally fell asleep, so I put her down for the night.

“So does he need to eat yet or not yet? And we can’t feed him after midnight right?” 

“Jared those are Gremlins, not children.” I laugh, playfully slapping his shoulder. 

“Same thing, are they not?” He chuckles, his arm wraps around my shoulders, walking me into the living room to find Ashton. 

“Hey so what do you wanna do?” Jared asks, plopping down on the couch next to Ashton. 

“What can we do?” The young boy looked up to Jared with a huge smile plastered on his face. 

I turned the volume on the baby monitor up, waiting to hear Jared’s suggestions. 

“Uh, maybe we can play the floor is lava?” 

“Yes, I love that game!” Ashton squeals, sending waves of happiness through your entire body. 

“Alright, let’s get it set up.” I smile.

We grab the couch cushions, blankets, and rearrange some of the smaller furniture of the living room, trying to make the best obstacle course we can. 

“Jared, no cheating.” I tease.

“Me? Never.” 

After about a half an hour of the floor is lava and a lot of competitive nature coming out, we were all growing a little tired. Ashton especially when he tried to keep up with Jared’s large and impressive movements. I almost fell flat on my face after slipping on the pillow I jumped on, but thankfully Jared was there to catch me before I caused too much damage to myself. 

“You tired buddy?” Jared asks after Ashton yawns. 

“Not yet.” Ashton tries to lie, pretending as if he didn’t just yawn.

“Ah, I see. Maybe we can clean this up and then watch a movie.” 

“Can we watch The Avengers?” Ashton looks at him with excited eyes. 

“Uh, of course.” 

I smile at Jared, mentally thanking him for always being so kind to Ashton. He smiles back, causing my heart to flutter just like the first day we met. 

After cleaning up, Ashton cuddled up to Jared’s left side while I laid on his right side. 

Of course, even though Ashton played it off as if he was wide awake, he knocked out after the first twenty minutes of the movie. His soft snores echoed the living room. 

“Jared?” I whisper.

“Yeah?” 

“Thank you. You’re really great.” I smile, leaning my head on his. 

“I learned a lot, I think I got a lot better thanks to you.” He presses a kiss on the top of my head. 

“You did, believe me.” I giggle. 

“Hey, Ashton always loved me.” He defends.

“He did, because you’re both twelve year olds, you’re just a giant twelve year old.” I giggle. “Also did you forget you asked me if you can let a ten year old cook by themselves? If it was safe to let him cut firewood on his own?” I raise an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, we came a long way these last two years. I get it now.” He chuckles, pulling me closer into his side. 

“Of course, you’re a great babysitter, now. You just have to learn how babies work, Rae is definitely a weak point for you.” I smirk.

“I’ll figure that out soon, but for now you should lay your head on my chest.” 

“I should.” I smile, laying my head upon his chest, listening to the thumping of his heartbeat.  _______________________________________ Word Count: 746

[laryna6]

Been watching Honest Trailers and found myself composing one for Zettai Karen Children.

Narrator: Meet The Messiah, the only one capable of averting a prophesized nuclear apocalypse and the extinction of the human race.

...Unfortunately she’s a porn-obsessed ten-year-old who doesn’t give a shit about human life. And she’s prophesized to deliberately die in a murder-suicide! Because who cares about global extinction when there’s truuu luuuuv...

...Humanity’s kinda f*cked, huh...

Then there’s this Minamoto dude, a twenty-year-old cleaning-obsessed autistic millennial with abandonment issues who gets dragged into this bullsh*t when three gremlins break into his apartment in the middle of the night and take him hostage. Then they go, ‘hey, we live here now! And also congratulations, you’re engaged and we don’t take no for an answer.’

...Seriously though, can’t blame them for wanting to put a ring on that. He cooks, he cleans, A++ house-husband material, am I right?

Now he’s stuck trying to parent three super-powered brats to keep them from growing up into the devil incarnate, under the command of bosses who are about as mature as they are!

...Seriously, how did this lady end up in charge of a government agency?

Oooh, right. Blackmail about that time the government tried to kill her and all her friends. Because racism!

Standing in Minamoto’s way is The Major, a brain-damaged veteran with the body of a teenager and the emotional maturity of a teenager with a shit-ton of PTSD! These rival dads will throw down over who can raise Kaoru into a psychologically healthy adult. Which they are totally qualified to do! Look at how well they’re handling their own childhood trauma! It’s not like they’re constantly having flashbacks or anything!

Oh, wait. Uh. You guys should really get some therapy.

Get ready for a manga that combines action, humor, found family fluff, and a whole ton of shitty parenting!

...Seriously, this manga has like a thousand chapters and a ton of characters and there’s only two parents who don’t suck in the entire thing.

Why does this ten-year-old need to get a job to feed himself and his friend, again? His parents own an entire mountain!

Wait, no, one of those two let an eight-year-old he was responsible for get seduced into joining the army and getting shot. 

One parent who doesn’t suck in the entire thing. And he nearly had to send his depressed kid to live with a terrorist group to keep him from being murdered by the government! It’s like decent parenting is against the laws of this universe! 

...It’s not just me who thinks the manga-ka is working out some issues, right? He’s totally working out some issues.

Starring: 

Call me Queen (Kaoru)

Cleverly Disguised as a Responsible Adult (Minamoto)

Future Sadistic Dominatrix (Shiho)

The One With No Personality (Aoi)

Best Bro (Sakaki)

Sexual Harassment Lawsuit (Fujiko)

Major Brat (Kyousuke)

Be Gay, Do Crimes (Muscle)

Three Times the Blond, Three Times the Dumb (Mio)

I Need A Freaking Drink (Magi)

Yuri (Yuuri)

And many more!

[cocochannel00]

Divorce Papers

Sometimes it can all get a little too much being the wife of Harry Styles... 

Kids: Connor (2), Rebecca/Becca (1)

You couldn't lie to yourself anymore. Harry had been touring for the last 5 month and you were at home with two kids under the age of 3. He rarely called, barley visited home, and was always being photographed and big glitzy parties with a bunch of supermodels. At first, you didn't worry, you and Harry were married after all so there really was no worry, but as time went by you became more and more anxious about the situation. His calls went from daily to once a week at most. At first, you thought it was just the jet lag or the time zones that made it difficult but after hearing from him once in a matter of weeks and being forced to text Jeff to get updates on your husband’s whereabouts, you there was a problem.

You understood it was his job to go tour across the world wherever they sent him but you also knew that Harry was responsible for being a father to your children and that was one thing he was not fulfilling. It was always hard to raise toddlers so close in age but when you have to raise them alone because your husband is MIA, the situation could only get worse from there. Luckily Connor always slept through the night, but Becca would start screaming every few hours with no one to help you, it was starting to take a toll on you. Gemma, Harry's sister, tried to make up for her brother’s absence but it wasn't the same.

You were starting to think your marriage was crumbling. Your friends always said it was going to be hard as marrying a celebrity always came with a high price but you had always believed that love conquers all, although this idea was starting to slip away. You had spent the last 5 months thinking strongly on how to fix this problem but you soon realized that Harry had put in zero effort and went on as if nothing was wrong. This always led to the question, Is it even worth fixing at this point? You didn't know but you would soon find out.

After waking up to your alarm clock going off at 8:00 a.m. you rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom to freshen up an pee. Becca had just begun teething and you were nearly at your wits end having to cuddle her to bed every 2 hours. You manage to avoid waking her up as you crept downstairs to make yourself some breakfast peacefully before Gemma came over to spend the day with you and your kids. You started brewing some coffee as you desperately tried to keep your eyes open. Putting some bread in the toaster you sat at your island in silence, contemplating moving whether to move at all from that spot all day. As you sat there you suddenly heard feet hitting the floor upstairs as your son slowly made his way down the stair.

"Connor, what are you doing up buddy?" You asked as you picked him up in your arms, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"breakfast mama," he said in his broken English as he pointed at his high chair.

"Ok buddy let's get you something to eat," you said as you grabbed a box of Cheerios and some milk, pouring it all into a bowl. Your doorbell rang just as you finished finding him a spoon and placing a bib around his neck.

Slowly you walk over to the door revealing Gemma standing there with a bag of pastries and chocolate donut (Connor’s favorite).

"Well you look like shit," she said as she walked past you. You rolled your eyes and followed her, closing the door on the way in.

She removed the bowl of cheerios from his table and placed the donut down in-front of Connor as he clapped happily.

Gemma placed a kiss on his forehead before turning around to look at you, "still no call?" She asked quietly. 

That had been the million-dollar question for the past two and a half weeks. No call, no text, no word from Harry. You heard nothing about how the tour was going or when he would have his next break. He had essentially cut off all communications and it was ruining you slowly.

You shook your head looking away, trying not to cry about Harry's lack of presence. Gemma swore under her breath and came up to you, giving you a tight hug.

"(Y/n) I know how bad this is and I know how much you love Harry but you can't keep going like this. You've reached your breaking point and this has become an unhealthy relationship. I love my brother with all my heart and I don’t know why he’s doing this but as your friend, I can’t see you like this"

She was right. You had lost at least 10 pounds from the stress and anxiety that Harry was causing you and you knew it needed to come to an end.

"I know but I don't know what to do. I love him, but I can't reach him. I'm basically losing my mind and I don't know how to stop it all" you stated.

She stayed quiet for a minute before quietly asking, "have you thought about a divorce at all?"

In truth you had a couple of times before when it was three in the morning and Becca would scream out for her daddy and you knew there was nothing you could do, but it always felt too extreme.

"Yeah it's crossed my mind a couple times...... but I could never do it I don't think. I love him so much and I can't be alone again, I really can't." You whispered as your eyes began to gloss over.

Gemma wrapped her arms around you tightly. "Shhh, it's going to be ok. Tell you what why don't you come with the kids to my house for a bit and stay there so you’re not alone. I can talk to Michal and see if his friend John can draft up some divorce papers with you... nothing to sign but just to see what it would entail. Did you guys sign a prenup at all? " she asked as you wipe your tears with the edge of your sleeves.

You shook your head, “No, I offered to sign one for him but he refused. Regardless, I don’t want his money, that’s not why I married him”

“I know love, I know. It complicates the situation a bit but nothing that can’t be dealt with later. Besides, you know Harry is going to give you at least half of his earnings if not more regardless of if you want it. He worries about you.” Gemma adds.

“I wish he would at least talk to me if he’s so worried” you mumbled as you heard cries come from the baby monitor sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Let’s take it one step at a time. I’ll call Michal and why don’t you go get Becca” Gemma stated as you went over to wipe the chocolate off of Connor's giddy face as you made your way up the stairs. 

You slowly entered Becca’s room and greeted her with a soft ‘good morning’ as you reached her arms out to you from her crib. You smiled at your baby girl who had seemed to have woken up in a better mood than yesterday. You battle with Becca down the stairs as she attempts to take off your shirt by swatting at your boob (a sign that she’s hungry). 

"Connor says he wants to have a sleepover with me so it has been decided that you’re all staying over at my house” Gemma cheered as Connor giggled in her arms. 

“Gemma, really it’s ok. I don’t want to burden you or Michal” you replied

"Nonsense! Michal loves having these little gremlins and you around. I’ll take Connor up with me and we’ll start packing a bag for him while you feed Rebecca. We have the crib from when Michal’s godson stayed with us a couple of weeks ago so we can move that into the guestroom for you. I'll go call Michal and tell him to come help and we'll be ready in no time!" she said began to make her way upstairs.

"Ok, thanks Gem” you replied as you sat down on the couch with your fussy baby, getting ready to feed her. 

                     ------------------------------------------------------------------

*6 hours later*

After changing Becca and double-checking that you had your purse, you and Gemma got into your car and made the 20-minute drive to Gemma and Michal’s house. Michal being the angel that he is had offered to bring all the bags in his car and drive them over. By the time you got to their house, all your bags were set up in the guest room and the crib Rebecca would be sleeping in was set up in the corner of the room. 

After you had all settled in, Gemma took Connor outside to play in the sprinkler while Becca took a nap upstairs. You sat in the living room with Michal as he began to explain the papers his friend had drafted for you. 

"I'm not gonna lie, this is going to be a long process that will bring out the worst in both of you. Custody will be a major part as well as splitting of assets and money."

You shook your head "I don't want any money. I didn't marry him for money so I'm not going to divorce him for any" you stated

He nodded as he began correcting the forms and continued to explain the legal process as well as the custody procedures. After almost two hours of staring at twenty pages of legal papers, you were finally starting to understanding it all (sort of). Rebecca had woken up ten minutes ago and was now sitting on your lap moving her head every time her name was mentioned. Gemma had brought Connor inside and helped him take a bath and they were watching a movie in her room as you and Michal finished up. You were going over the final details when the doorbell rang. Gemma got up from the couch and went to open it when you suddenly heard some shouting and a pair of rough footsteps heading towards the living room.

You looked up to see none other the Harry who looked both worried and furious at the same time.

"I came home expecting to see my children and wife but I come home to an empty house and a note saying you were gone" he shouted as you sat there in shock, seeing your husband for the first time in months. 

Rebecca whined softly as she became irritated from the loud boom of Harry's voice. Michal quickly stood and rested his hand on your shoulder signaling that he would take Becca upstairs so we could talk. You carefully passed Rebecca off to Michal as Connor came barreling towards Harry. 

“Dada Dada” Connor shouted as his chubby body knocked right into Harry’s legs. 

“Hi baby, I’ve missed you” he replied as he picked up Connor in his arms and showered him with kisses. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself Harry Edward Styles. If mom were here right now she’d have an absolute fit at your behavior. You’re so lucky (Y/n) won’t let me tell her because she would have flown out to whoop your ass. Come on Connor want to go watch the wiggles upstairs” Gemma stated as she grabs Connor from Harry’s arms. 

“wiggles wiggles” Connor cheered as Gemma and Michal carried your kids upstairs.

“If you so much as yell at her Harry I will murder you” Gemma yelled from the top of the stairs. 

Once they were gone you slowly got up from the couch and cleaned up all the papers scattered around the coffee table. As you began placing them in a folder Harry snatched them and began reading through them.

"Divorce papers? Are you serious? I've been gone for my job, a job I have to support you and the kids, and you want to divorce me for it?" He questioned as his anger started to bubble up.

You sighed, "that's not the reason Harry and you know it. It was just an idea Gemma had mentioned so I was looking into it. Besides, I would be divorcing you for neglecting not only me but our family for the last 5 months. Harry, I love you but this isn’t right"

"I had to work (Y/n), what part of that did you not understand?" he shouted as he dropped the papers on the floor. 

"The part where you stop calling your family for months and spend your spare time on yachts with supermodels instead of coming to see your children. I shouldn’t have to ask your manager how you’re doing, you should be telling me" you yell back

He chuckles angrily, "Is that what this is about, you think I cheated? I didn't, but if that’s what you want I'll get right on it? Would that solve your problems?" He replied sarcastically.

Your eyes began to water at the idea Harry described and you pressed your fingers to your eyes as to prevent yourself from crying in front of him. " Harry I love you but if that's how you truly feel then maybe we shouldn't have gotten married in the first place" you stated

"Maybe you're right" he stated as he turns around and stomps towards the kitchen. You let out a shaky breath as you watch him leave. This was not the way you thought your day was going to turn out. 

You began picking up the divorce papers as you hear a cry come from upstairs. Carefully you wipe the tears from your eyes and started to make your way up to go get Becca. You walked into the master bedroom to find Connor fast asleep on Michal’s lap while Gemma attempts to calm Becca down by rocking her back and forth in the corner.

When they spot you in the doorway, Michal gives you a sympathetic smile while Gemma’s frown deepens. You smile in return and pick up Becca from Gemma's arms and walk out of the room. You go to the guest room quickly to grab her favorite blanket and walked downstairs. You can hear Harry pacing in the kitchen, the pile of divorce papers missing from the floor most likely with him. You cautiously made your way to the glass door in the back of the living room and stepped outside into the slightly chilly night, bundling yourself and Becca up in the plush purple blanket Harry had bought Becca when she was born. You turned on the patio light and made your way to Gemma's garden to the small swing standing in the middle of it. 

You stay there crying as you rock Becca to sleep in your arms. A while later you heard footsteps slowly approach the garden and feel the weight of the swing shift as someone sits next to you. You don't dare look up as the smell of cologne gives away that it's Harry. He clears his throat a couple of times before speaking.

"Why wouldn't you take any of my money?" He asked quietly as he folded the divorces papers

You wiped your tears slowly and took a deep breath before responding, "because I didn't marry you for your money so why should I divorce you and get it. I married you because I love you"

"You need the support. I would give you all the money in a heartbeat you know that" he mumbled back

"I have a job and some savings, I could support myself and our kids" you stated. You heard him grunt as he flipped through the pages.

"Custody battle? Do you think it would come to that?" He asked quietly as you saw his shoulders shake.

"My babies are my everything....... I can't lose them like I already lost you" you stated as you caressed Becca's cheek.

"You didn’t lose- were you actually going to sign these?" He asked, voice cracking as you watched his hands begin to shake. 

"No" you replied back, barely louder than a whisper. 

Harry let out a breath and timidly let's go of the papers placing them on the ground before wrapping his arm around you carefully.

The minute your head hit his chest you began to cry. Harry quickly took Becca out of your arms and into his chest as you clung to him, sobbing into his shirt. He caressed his free hand up and down your back and placed chase kisses onto your forehead as he whispered sweet words and apologies to you.

You sobs slowly became sniffles as you wrapped your arms around yourself, leaving your head to lean on Harry's shoulders.

"Baby I’m so unbelievably sorry. I didn’t know it had gotten this bad. Why didn't you tell me you felt this way? With all the shows and starting to record the new album, I forgot about the most important thing in my life." He asked as he rubbed circles into your back.

You twiddled with your fingers, "I could never reach you. Every time I tried to call you were busy so I thought, ok he can just call me, but then your calls just got shorter and then they just stopped. I took it as you were busy but even when you had a couple days off you wouldn't come visit. You had basically broken off from us, Harry. I didn't know what to do. I spent most days with Gemma and most nights with a crying Becca keeping me up because all she wanted was her Dada singing her to sleep. I had to play your albums every night to try and get her to calm down and every time your voice played through the speaker, I died inside. It was all too much for me. I was alone Harry and you were nowhere to be found. I want my husband back. I want the man I fell in love with four years ago that use to wake up at 5 am halfway across the globe just to wish me goodnight. I want the man that cried at our wedding as I walked down the aisle. I want the man that tries to sneak chocolate chips into Connor’s pancakes while I’m not watching just to make his baby boy smile. I want my Harry back." you replied as you stared at the ground.

Harry stiffened as you finished speaking. He slowly lifted your chin up to meet your eyes. You could see tears falling down from his eyes as he looked straight at you. You could tell he was hurting and just the thought of him breakdown was making you shatter into a million pieces. You carefully got up from the swing a grabbed Becca from his arms before tucking her head into the nook of your neck as you cautiously sat down on Harry's laps. Harry let out a loud breath before he carefully wrapped his arms around your frame and staring straight into your eyes. 

"I’m right here baby, I’m still your Harry. I love you so much and just the thought of losing you and my babies hurts me more than a bullet ever could. I'm sorry I didn't call but I was so homesick that I figured it would be easier on both of us if I just kept my distance. I figured the check-ins with Jeff would be enough. I know that’s no excuse but I promise baby I’ll be better.  I love you so so much you have no idea (Y/n). I promise I'll be better for you and for our kids just please don't leave me" he said as he hugged you tighter causing a sob to escape your lips.

"I love you too H" you state in between sobs. You both sat there for a while until you had stopped crying. Cautiously Harry lifted your face to look at him.

"Can I rip up those papers when we get back?" He asked timidly as he stared at you.

You nodded furiously and quickly pulled him into a deep kiss. You pulled away breathless as you lean your forehead against his.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken it that far. I should have just waited to talk with you before asking Michal about them and I..." you tried to continue but Harry stopped you with a kiss.

"Shhh we're going to get through this baby” He whispered as he caressed your hair. 

“We need to go to therapy, Harry. This was a big deal and I don’t think we can slip this under the rug and get back to where we were without it” You mumbled into his neck. 

“Of course (Y/n). I’ll go to therapy every day for the next thirty years if it means I get to keep you and my babies with me. I'm going to be better for you and for the kids. I'm going to take you all on tour with me from today on and were going to work through this. Now, why don't we head in it starting to get pretty cold." He stated as carefully helped you up while making sure Becca was wrapped up tightly in her blanket. You snuggled deeper into Harry's side and nodded your head as the two of you walked into the house once more.

Gemma and Michal sat on the couch talking quietly to each other as the tv played in the background They looked up at the two of you cautiously. Harry quickly kissed your head and grabbed Becca before taking her upstairs to bed.

You carefully grabbed one of the four full wine glasses on the coffee table and sat on the love seat next to the fire hoping to warm up a bit. Gemma starred at you as you sat there. You knew she was dying to know what happened outside, but she was too kind to ask.

"I think we're going to be ok" you state as you wrap the blanket closer to your chest. Gemma gets up and gives you a big hug.

“You’re not letting him off the hook are you?” she asked sternly.

“No, he’s not off the hook. We’re going to start therapy and we’re going to take things slow. He said he’s going to be home more and that he’s going to take us on tour with him from now on but we’ll see. One day at a time” you mumbled as you took a sip from your glass

"I'm glad it all worked out but if he hurts you again, family or not, I'll kick his ass. No one disrespects my (Y/n)" she said seriously. You laughed and simply nodded your head as you heard Harry's footsteps down the stairs.

"Thanks for watching Connor," Harry said as he shook Michal's hand and kissed the top of Gemma's head as she made her way to the spot next to her husband.

"Anytime. He is so adorable and quiet" Michal gushed.

You smiled softly and moved over slightly in your seat, making room for Harry. Harry carefully picked you up from the love seat and sat down, placing you on his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around you, burying his head into your neck. 

The four of you spent the rest of the night watching tv quietly as you cuddled in the loveseat, Harry stealing sips from your wine glass as you try your hardest not to fall asleep. After a while, Gemma and Michal said their goodnights and headed up to their room as Harry carefully picked you up and carried you to the guest room. He slowly laid you on the bed and removed all of your clothes except your underwear before taking off his shirt and helping you place your arms in the sleeves. He tucked you into bed and quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants before grabbing a pillow and getting ready to spend the night on the floor. He didn’t want to overstep and end the day on the wrong note but the minute he heard you call his name he smiled. He quickly checked on Becca that was fast asleep in her crib while Connor slept peacefully in the small bed laid out next to your bed. He gave both of them a quick kiss on the cheek before carefully sliding into bed behind you.

 You curled your body into Harry's and sighed contently as he wrapped his arms around you. You heard a faint "I love you, baby, so much" from Harry as you drifted off to sleep. For the first time in months, you were able to sleep through the night and you couldn't be happier.

Wow, it’s been a long time but I hope ya’ll enjoyed this one!!

Masterlist

[maxineswritingcenter]

Bray Road - Fox Mulder x nonbinary!reader part 4

It only took a couple months for my to get back on the old horse, everything's fine.

(Y/P/L/N) = your previous last name since the character is adopted

---------

"Good evening, agents. I'm doctor Winterfield, how can i-" The doctor stopped as he looked up at the agents and closed the door, "Assist you..." (Y/N) recognized everything about him. His gravely voice. His dusty blonde hair and his dark brown eyes. He had been so young when she last saw him, but now he looked to be around his mid-forties. Twenty fives years since they last saw his face.

Mulder interrupted the silence, flashing his badge, "Agents Fox Mulder and agent-"

"(Y/N) (Y/P/L/N). I never forget a patient." The doctor said their name before Mulder had a chance to. Their stomach clenched as the doctor took a step forward.

"Look at you, I haven't seen you since were up to my waist. How's your asthma?"

(Y/N) swallowed, "It's fine. I only use my inhaler for emergencies." They gave a weak smile to be polite but everything was telling them to run.

"That's good. Very good. If your parents, may they rest in peace, if they had let you continue your treatment here, we would could have cured you of your asthma." He said.

Mulder narrowed his eyes at the doctor, "Asthma can't be cured. It's not like a pneumonia."

"The trials (Y/N) was undergoing was for a new strain of albuterol and would repair their lungs and airways and the asthma would simply become useless genes." Winterfield explained.

"Would you be able show us the research for this strain?" Mulder asked.

"Oh no. There was a fire about ten so odd years ago. Everything was destroyed, files, research you name it."

Mulder only nodded. Fighting to keep themselves from breaking down, (Y/N) opened up the file they had been keeping at their side.

"Dr. Winterfield-"

"Oh please, call me Lyle." The doctor grinned. His teeth were impossibly white.

"Dr. Winterfield-," They repeated, "Have you treated these boys?" They showed the pictures if the boys who were in the latest attack. There seemed to be some recognition in his eyes.

"Of course. I've treated all the children in this town."

"Did they also have asthma?" Mulder asked. Confusing (Y/N) profusely.

"Oh if I can recall. I do believe the Mulligan boy had it. I don't see how that's relevant to them being attacked by a bear." The doctor said.

"The medical report never mentioned a bear." They said, scrunching their eyebrows together.

"No, but from what I've heard, there isn't anything else is could be." Dr. Winterfield mused, then turned back to (Y/N), "Even your parents."

Mulder opened his mouth to tell the doctor that (Y/N) parents were only considered dead on the technicality that even though their bodies were never found with the blood evidence found they were dead. But his partner spoke up.

"Agent Mulder, I think it's time we leave and let the doctor get back to work." They smiled politely, "Have a good day, Doctor."

"And you too." Dr. Winterfield smiled, opening the door for them.

-

The agents were driving toward the motel when Mulder spoke up.

"You okay?" He asked. (Y/N) hadn't noticed they were staring off into the distance until they heard his voice.

"No," They said honestly, "he really shook me up. I don't know why."

"I have a theory." Mulder said, stopping at a four way. The sound of the rentals blinker filled the silence.

"What's that?"

"Well, I'm no dentist, but it doesn't take a degree to tell that one of his molars was missing." His words made their blood go cold.

"You don't think-"

"I don't think, I know. But the only connection to you and the most recent case is that the Mulligan kid has asthma." He paused when his phone rang, he motioned for them to grab it. (Y/N) tried to keep their blush to minimum when pulling the phone from his jacket pocket. They answered and pressed the speaker.

"Mulder." He said.

"It's Scully, are you alone?"

"No, I have Agent (Y/L/N) with me." There was a pause on the other end of the line. Mulder looked over at (Y/N) out of the side of his vision, then back at the road. "It's alright, Scully, I trust them. Besides, they're apart of the XFile."

"That's good. It's better that they hear this then." She said.

"What is it, Agent Scully?" (Y/N) asked.

"I was able to get a look at the autopsy reports you sent and the blood work was strange."

"How so?" They asked.

"The blood types of the victims were identified but there was also another blood type found that didn't match any of the others. And this blood type is nothing like I've ever seen before. It's human but we also found traces of DEA."

"DEA? Isn’t that-" Mulder asked.

"Dog Erythrocyte Antigen. Humans have ABO blood typing while the DEA is for canines."

"Like wolves." Mulder and (Y/N) said together.

"Exactly. And there's something else, the victim in the hospital, Jason Mulligan, also has traces of DEA in his blood." As soon as Mulder heard this he made a complete u-turn, leaving the direction of the hotel to go to the hospital.

"Scully, I'm gonna have to call you back." He hung up the phone.

"Mulder, what's going on?" They asked, holding onto the dashboard from the sudden movement.

"What's going on is the sun is going down and Jason is about to have his first transformation."

- 

At the hospital, both agents exited the vehicle, but Mulder paused. 

“I gotta make a call, you go inside and check on Jason.” (Y/N) nodded, making their way inside. Mulder jogged to the payphone near the hospital entrance. He fed the machine a quarter and dialed the number. 

“This is the Lone Gunmen, who gave you this number?” A distorted robotic voice answered the call. 

“Give it a rest, it’s Mulder.” He smiled slightly. 

“Oh.” The voice said before Langley’s familiar voice spoke, “Hey Mulder, why did you call through the tip line.” 

“Keeping you on your toes and being mysterious.” He joked. 

“He’s not wrong.” Frohike chimed in, surely getting a glare from Langley, “How’s Scully doing.” 

“Scully’s fine, casanova. She’s resting. How much do you know about pharmaceuticals?”

“Not much from me. Byers?” Langley called. 

“Nothing I can’t find.” Byers spoke up, “What are we looking at: opioids, depressants? Anti-depressants?” 

“Albuterol.” Mulder answered, “Our suspect is a pediatrician who gave his patients a “new strain” that supposedly was meant to cure asthma.” He could hear typing in the background. 

“I’m not finding anything from the CDC or any published medical literature on anything about a new miracle cure for asthma.” Langley mused. 

“Checks out. What about DEA in human blood?” Mulder asked, waiting for the theories. 

“It’s impossible for human and canid blood to mix in anyway to create a living being.” Langley said. 

“What about the Michigan Dogman, how do you explain that?” Frohike cut in. 

“Oh have you tested the Dogman’s blood? Let me see your research, you little gremlin.” 

“Hey. Enough. Last thing, I need a background on a Doctor Lyle Winterfield.” Mulder looked around, seeing an the sheriff pulling into the parking lot. 

“We’ll look into it for you.” Byers said over the yelling of Langley and Frohike, “Gunmen out.” The line went dead. The sheriff seemed to make his way over to Mulder in a hurry. 

“Agent, we got a problem.” 

“What is it?” 

“That Mulligan kid, he’s goin’ on a rampage inside.” Mulder’s eyes widened, realizing he had sent (Y/N) in there alone. 

“Lead the way.” They both ran inside.

------------------

So this part is a little shorter than usual, but I wanted to save the next scene for its own post. Also sorry it's been a while. I've been sad.

Read part 5 here!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

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Bray Road Tag:

@theres-a-dog-outside-omg

@nyotamalfoy

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Remembering Little Lake: Butte Des Morts

REMEMBERING LITTLE LAKE

BUTTE DES MORTS

     Most people who live in the Fox River Valley in eastern-central Wisconsin do not realize there is a lake on the Fox River between Green Bay and Lake Winnebago. It actually isn’t much of lake and no more than a widening out of the Fox River so perhaps that is why it is overlooked by many people.

     The lake is called Little Lake Butte des Morts. It is surrounded by the cities of the Fox River Valley. To the north is the city of Appleton and to the south is Neenah. Much of the lake is bordered on the east by the city of Menasha and to the west by Highway 41. It is easy to miss.

When you look at a map of the Fox River Valley you clearly see Lake Butte Des Morts just to the west of Oshkosh, up the Fox River from Lake Winnebago. But Little Lake Butte des Morts is a bit more difficult to find even on a map.

I am not sure how I heard of Little Lake Butte des Morts, but I found it when I came home on leave one winter when I was stationed at Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri. It was the last year of my enlistment, and I had returned to the states after my first tour in Germany. I took a short one week leave in February to return to Oshkosh. Leonard Wood was only a one day drive and we ended up driving through a blizzard in Illinois to get to Oshkosh. Looking back at it now I realize what a dumb thing it was to drive through a blizzard with my wife and two young daughters. But we had a relatively new car, a three year old Gremlin, and my wife and I were young so we didn’t recognize the risks then.

I was back in Oshkosh for a couple of days when someone told me about this little lake in Menasha. I do not know who told me about it but they assured me it had lots of perch in it. One of the things I truly missed during my two years in Germany was fresh fish. I caught trout while I was there but they didn’t have anything like perch. Actually, Europe does have a fish similar to our perch but they have a humped back and they were relatively rare to catch. On another tour to Germany I would catch a perch or two but that was it. What I really missed was catching perch or panfish and having a fish fry.

In my parent’s basement I had left a bucket of ice fishing rods, an ice scoop and my ice chisel, or pick or spud as they were called. Ice fishing was simple and a bit rustic in those days. I got out the ice fishing gear, picked up a couple dozen wax worms, and filled a thermos jig with hot coffee. I didn’t have a lot of cold weather clothing but I had my grandfather’s red insulated deer hunting pants and jacket. Red was the deer hunting color then before the orange laws went into effect. I also had a pair of cheap rubber boots with a thick felt lining. They were the warmest pair of boots I had then and they actually worked well. On top I had a pull-on wool stocking hat and a lined pair of leather mittens. For years that was my ice fishing clothes. I still have the mittens but the rest is long gone, out-grown and discarded

I was all set and one afternoon drove over to Little Lake Butte des Morts. I found a street taking me down to the edge of the lake. There was a place to park my car and a path through the snow other fishermen took to get out on the lake. There were about ten guys fishing so it seemed I found the right place. I gathered my gear and walked out on the ice. I realized it had been over two years since the last time I walked on a frozen lake.

I talked with a couple of the other fishermen and they told me to chop a couple of holes through the ice anywhere in this small bay and I should catch perch. Everyone also had a small pile of perch sitting on the ice. I chopped two holes, turned over my bucket, put wax worms on a couple of jigs and dropped them down through the ice holes. I then poured myself a cup of coffee and watched the two small bobbers floating on the water. It was incredibly simple.

The bay was shallow and there was only about six feet of water under the ice. As I looked through the ice holes I could see green weeds on the bottom. Every now and then I would lift the rods, jig it a couple times and then set it back down again. It didn’t take long, perhaps only a few minutes when one of the bobbers began to dip under the water and shaking off my mittens I grabbed the ice rod and set the hook. The light jig rod doubled over as a fish ran off. Since the water was so shallow, I only had to lift the rod up and the fish was splashing in the ice hole. The fish was a small perch like the others I saw on laying on the ice. Although I was using a very light jig stick, I was amazed at what a good fight this little perch had in him.

I baited the jig stick and dropped it down again. Slipping back on my mittens, I reached for my coffee. A moment or two later my bobber began to move again. For the next fifteen or twenty minutes a small school of perch must have come through under the ice where I was because one or both of my bobbers seemed to constantly be sinking in the ice hole. I was so busy catching fish and baiting hooks I did not have time to put my mittens back on. By the time this school moved off I had about a dozen fish lying on the ice and my hands were red and stiff from the cold.

The fishing stayed fairly consistent for the next couple of hours and I amassed a good size pile of perch on the ice. By this time I also ran out of coffee and it looked like I had enough perch for a fish fry. They might have been small but I caught enough of them to make up in numbers for what I might not have in size. I turned my bucket back over again, dumped in the perch and walked back to my car and drove home. That night we ate those perch and it might have been one of the best fish fries I ever had. The fish were breaded and cooked in lard. We used lard in those days; everyone did. There were few kitchens in those days that did not have a tub of lard in the refrigerator. It was cheap and tasted good and we were not aware of today’s health risks associated with lard or animal fats. Besides then we were young and invincible.

 ONCE A LONG TIME AGO

When you look around Little Lake Butte des Morts today it is hard to believe what it must once have looked like before the cities, streets, houses and businesses were there. A forest surrounded the lake four hundred years ago. Wild rice grew in the shallow waters bringing in rafts of ducks. The land around it was abundant with game. It was the land of the Fox Indians and then later the French explorers, trappers and traders.

 Butte des Morts means “Hill of the Dead” and that name came after two battles between the French and the Fox Indians. In the early 1700s, a large camp of Fox Indians, estimated over eight thousand men, women and children lived in a walled town on the banks of the lake across from what today is Neenah. The Fox Indians were like pirates. They controlled the waterway, intercepting both other Indians and whites as they came through their area taking hostages and extorting furs and other items from those traveling through. This significantly harassed and interfered with the very lucrative fur trade, which in those days was not only a major financial but also political enterprise.

The French could not allow such disruption within their empire so they sent an armed group under the supervision of one of their military commanders to eliminate this band of Indian pirates. It was, as with many of these Indian battles were in those days, a no holds barred, no quarter asked or given, with death to the last enemy person. The French won both battles and the bodies of Fox Indian’s, men, women and children, were piled high and covered with dirt. These mounds became the “Hill of the Dead” and mentioned prominently in writing by exploreres and travelers through the area in the early 1800s.

 THE NEXT WINTER

Six months after I first fished Little Lake Butte des Morts my enlistment ended and I returned to Oshkosh. The plan was to go back to school at the University of Oshkosh, get a commission through their ROTC program and go back in the Army. I had the GI Bill, my wife and I both had part time jobs and between a Wisconsin Vietnam era tuition grant and the money I was making selling magazine stories, I was able to put together what I needed to pay for college tuition. We would be barely comfortable enough to get through the next two years until I could graduate and get my commission. There were some risks involved, but again it was good to be young and be willing to take the chance.

It was exciting to be going back in college again. My grades were much better than they were the first time I was in college before I joined the Army; being a bit older with a sense of purpose made me a much better student. I breezed through the fall and then the first of winter settled in. I got through the first semester and now had almost a month off for winter break. Ice covered the lakes and snow was on the ground. I wanted to go ice fishing and I remembered how good it was on Little Lake Butte des Morts. I got my ice fishing stuff again out of my parent’s basement and got one of my ROTC buddies to go perch fishing with me on Little Lake Butte des Morts.

I remember the day was gray, promising more snow but not for that afternoon. It was chilly but not real cold yet and there was a light wind. We filled thermos jigs with coffee and stopped at a bait shop for three dozen wax worms. This particular bait shop put their wax worms in empty chewing tobacco cans. A couple of weeks later my wife found the container in the refrigerator where I put it, containing the left over wax worms from the last fishing trip. She was upset, thinking I had taken up chewing tobacco. I have had enough bad habits in my life but chewing tobacco wasn’t one of them. I explained those cans were used by the bait shop to pack wax worms in and I hadn’t taken up chewing tobacco. She really didn’t like the idea of having grubs in her refrigerator any more then the thought of my chewing tobacco, but she tolerated them as long as I pushed them way to the back where she wouldn’t see them. We survived the rest of the winter with the grubs in the tobacco cans as long as they were out of sight.

With coffee and bait we were all set up and I drove back to the street in Menasha that took us down to the lake. It was early in the ice fishing season yet and ice wasn’t very thick so it didn’t take long to punch a couple of holes through ice with the water gushing up in the ice holes. Throughout the winter the ice never got anymore then about a foot thick thanks to the current from the Fox River running through the lake. We scooped out the slush, dumped our gear on the ice, turned over the buckets, baited our hooks and we were fishing.

We fished in the shallow bay again like I had a few months before. As it turned out I never fished anywhere else on Little Lake Butte des Morts. For the rest of the winter I fished that bay and caught all the fish I wanted. We poured ourselves a cup of coffee and before we finished it our little bobbers were beginning to dip, bounce and sink in our ice holes. Sitting side by side, there were times we both had fish on at the same time and there were times one of us would have a fish on both jig poles. By the time it was getting dark and night was crawling across the lake, we were out of coffee and had a big pile of perch sitting on the ice. That night my buddy and his wife had a fish fry at his house and my wife and two daughters and I were eating fresh perch fillets at our house. The ice fishing season had good a start.

For the rest of my winter break I worked, wrote a couple articles, watched my two daughters when my wife worked, went rabbit hunting a couple of times and went fishing as often as I could on Little Lake Butte des Morts. Sometime after the middle of January my second semester began. Now the only day I had available to fish was Saturdays. Every Saturday I would leave about mid-morning and fished until I had enough fish for a fish fry. Once I got back home I put the frozen pile of perch in the basement until early evening when they were thawed out enough for me to clean. I would scale and fillet the fish and on Monday evening we had a fish fry.

I did this every Saturday for the next two months and always caught enough fish for our Monday dinner. This became my routine for the winter. Not only was it my outlet and excuse to go fishing every week but it also was a fairly cheap meal every Monday. It only cost me a couple gallons of gas and grubs. There were a couple different types of grubs available at the bait shop. One was wax worms which I started fishing with and the other was mousies. I found mousies to be more durable and worked just as good as wax worms so I used them to extend the use of my bait and normally I could get two weeks out of a three dozen tobacco can. My guess was my weekly fishing trip was costing less than five dollars a week. It was both cheap entertainment as well as an inexpensive meal for a family of four.

Most of my buddies and a few family members joined me every Saturday and we never left without a meal of perch. Some days it was cold and other days warmer. Sometimes it snowed and other days the wind swirled the snow on the ice around us. I remember one morning I only had a sip or two out of my coffee cup when a school of perch came through. It seemed for the next thirty or forty minutes we were very busy. Finally when the fishing slowed down I looked at me coffee cup to see it was full of snow blown into it by the wind.

Another time I came off the ice and wasn’t feeling well. When I got home my face was flushed with fever and when I got home I laid down for a nap. The nap and a handful of aspirin didn’t do much for what was ailing me and I still had a pile of a perch to clean. My wife took pity on me and went down in the basement to help me clean fish. She scaled the fish while I filleted them. Another day I came home with a bad case of chills. I kicked off my boots and sat down in the living room still dressed in Grandpa’s old deer hunting suit and she tucked blankets around me, brought me hot tea and aspirins. It took me a couple of hours before I felt normal again.

Although the fish were small we made up for the size in numbers. I figured for my family of four we needed two dozen of the small perch to make a meal. There were days I caught what I needed in couple of hours and other times it took me four or five hours to catch a meal. I used light fiberglass jig sticks and was always amazed at what a good fight even the smaller perch put up. I had about a dozen jigs I carried in a plastic 35mm film container. There seemed only a handful of panfish jigs available in those days. I used either what was called a tear drop of rocker jig. I used only three colors; either yellow, red or orange. One of those two jigs in one of those colors always seemed to catch fish. In another film container I carried about a half dozen small ice bobbers that weren’t any bigger then a finger nail. Ice fishing in those days was delightfully simple but effective.

Finally the ice fishing season came to an end. It started to get warm as we were edging into spring. It was a warm, bright sunny day. I drove over to the small bay for my Saturday morning a fishing trip. There were a few guys already on the ice when I walked out, and I felt it moving underneath me. Taking my ice pick I jabbed it into the ice and with one blow it went through the ice and water was bubbling up. I slowly backed up until I found thicker ice. I did fish that day and caught a meal of perch but I knew as I walked off the ice a few hours later the season had come to an end.

TWO FISHING BUDDIES

Some forty years later Little Lake Butte des Morts would come back to me. A fishing buddy, Doug Hurd, and I were traveling to northern Wisconsin on a fishing trip and we were talking. Doug grew up in Beloit in southern Wisconsin and I grew up in Oshkosh. In 1972 he enlisted in the Army and went to Alaska. In 1972 I enlisted in the Army and first went to Germany and then Missouri. We did not know each other until some twenty years later we both ended up at Fort Snelling in Minnesota. I would buy my first bass boat from him when he sold it so he could buy a bigger boat. Two years later, we both retired from the Army a month apart from each other. Doug and I became friends and fishing buddies and since then have fished all over Wisconsin and Minnesota together as well as parts of North Dakota and Canada. We have become like brothers and we are part of each other’s family. He and his wife and I and my wife get together regularly to watch Packer games or to have dinner. We know each other’s children, brothers and sisters and parents. We have shared weddings and funerals within each other’s family and births of grandchildren and all the good times and occasional bad times our families have gone through over the years.

At another time our lives converged and we never knew it until we were talking on the drive north to another fishing adventure we shared. In 1975, we both completed our enlistments and both left the Army to go to school. I was living in Oshkosh and going to the college there and Doug lived in Appleton and was going to school there. He also was married but did not have any children then. On Saturdays during the winter he also went ice fishing on Little Lake Butte des Morts. It is very likely we may have fished next to each other or at least close and never knew it. We would both soon return to active duty with the Army and seventeen years later we finally met while work together in the same unit where we both retired.

Now we share a lot of fishing adventures together as well as the common bond of once being brothers in arms. Of the places Doug and I have been to and the friendship we now share, it actually was at Little Lake Butte des Morts where we might have first met and never knew it.

The post Remembering Little Lake: Butte Des Morts appeared first on Morning Moss.

Remembering Little Lake: Butte Des Morts posted first on bestfishingreview.blogspot.com

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Remembering Little Lake: Butte Des Morts

REMEMBERING LITTLE LAKE

BUTTE DES MORTS

     Most people who live in the Fox River Valley in eastern-central Wisconsin do not realize there is a lake on the Fox River between Green Bay and Lake Winnebago. It actually isn’t much of lake and no more than a widening out of the Fox River so perhaps that is why it is overlooked by many people.

     The lake is called Little Lake Butte des Morts. It is surrounded by the cities of the Fox River Valley. To the north is the city of Appleton and to the south is Neenah. Much of the lake is bordered on the east by the city of Menasha and to the west by Highway 41. It is easy to miss.

When you look at a map of the Fox River Valley you clearly see Lake Butte Des Morts just to the west of Oshkosh, up the Fox River from Lake Winnebago. But Little Lake Butte des Morts is a bit more difficult to find even on a map.

I am not sure how I heard of Little Lake Butte des Morts, but I found it when I came home on leave one winter when I was stationed at Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri. It was the last year of my enlistment, and I had returned to the states after my first tour in Germany. I took a short one week leave in February to return to Oshkosh. Leonard Wood was only a one day drive and we ended up driving through a blizzard in Illinois to get to Oshkosh. Looking back at it now I realize what a dumb thing it was to drive through a blizzard with my wife and two young daughters. But we had a relatively new car, a three year old Gremlin, and my wife and I were young so we didn’t recognize the risks then.

I was back in Oshkosh for a couple of days when someone told me about this little lake in Menasha. I do not know who told me about it but they assured me it had lots of perch in it. One of the things I truly missed during my two years in Germany was fresh fish. I caught trout while I was there but they didn’t have anything like perch. Actually, Europe does have a fish similar to our perch but they have a humped back and they were relatively rare to catch. On another tour to Germany I would catch a perch or two but that was it. What I really missed was catching perch or panfish and having a fish fry.

In my parent’s basement I had left a bucket of ice fishing rods, an ice scoop and my ice chisel, or pick or spud as they were called. Ice fishing was simple and a bit rustic in those days. I got out the ice fishing gear, picked up a couple dozen wax worms, and filled a thermos jig with hot coffee. I didn’t have a lot of cold weather clothing but I had my grandfather’s red insulated deer hunting pants and jacket. Red was the deer hunting color then before the orange laws went into effect. I also had a pair of cheap rubber boots with a thick felt lining. They were the warmest pair of boots I had then and they actually worked well. On top I had a pull-on wool stocking hat and a lined pair of leather mittens. For years that was my ice fishing clothes. I still have the mittens but the rest is long gone, out-grown and discarded

I was all set and one afternoon drove over to Little Lake Butte des Morts. I found a street taking me down to the edge of the lake. There was a place to park my car and a path through the snow other fishermen took to get out on the lake. There were about ten guys fishing so it seemed I found the right place. I gathered my gear and walked out on the ice. I realized it had been over two years since the last time I walked on a frozen lake.

I talked with a couple of the other fishermen and they told me to chop a couple of holes through the ice anywhere in this small bay and I should catch perch. Everyone also had a small pile of perch sitting on the ice. I chopped two holes, turned over my bucket, put wax worms on a couple of jigs and dropped them down through the ice holes. I then poured myself a cup of coffee and watched the two small bobbers floating on the water. It was incredibly simple.

The bay was shallow and there was only about six feet of water under the ice. As I looked through the ice holes I could see green weeds on the bottom. Every now and then I would lift the rods, jig it a couple times and then set it back down again. It didn’t take long, perhaps only a few minutes when one of the bobbers began to dip under the water and shaking off my mittens I grabbed the ice rod and set the hook. The light jig rod doubled over as a fish ran off. Since the water was so shallow, I only had to lift the rod up and the fish was splashing in the ice hole. The fish was a small perch like the others I saw on laying on the ice. Although I was using a very light jig stick, I was amazed at what a good fight this little perch had in him.

I baited the jig stick and dropped it down again. Slipping back on my mittens, I reached for my coffee. A moment or two later my bobber began to move again. For the next fifteen or twenty minutes a small school of perch must have come through under the ice where I was because one or both of my bobbers seemed to constantly be sinking in the ice hole. I was so busy catching fish and baiting hooks I did not have time to put my mittens back on. By the time this school moved off I had about a dozen fish lying on the ice and my hands were red and stiff from the cold.

The fishing stayed fairly consistent for the next couple of hours and I amassed a good size pile of perch on the ice. By this time I also ran out of coffee and it looked like I had enough perch for a fish fry. They might have been small but I caught enough of them to make up in numbers for what I might not have in size. I turned my bucket back over again, dumped in the perch and walked back to my car and drove home. That night we ate those perch and it might have been one of the best fish fries I ever had. The fish were breaded and cooked in lard. We used lard in those days; everyone did. There were few kitchens in those days that did not have a tub of lard in the refrigerator. It was cheap and tasted good and we were not aware of today’s health risks associated with lard or animal fats. Besides then we were young and invincible.

 ONCE A LONG TIME AGO

When you look around Little Lake Butte des Morts today it is hard to believe what it must once have looked like before the cities, streets, houses and businesses were there. A forest surrounded the lake four hundred years ago. Wild rice grew in the shallow waters bringing in rafts of ducks. The land around it was abundant with game. It was the land of the Fox Indians and then later the French explorers, trappers and traders.

  Butte des Morts means “Hill of the Dead” and that name came after two battles between the French and the Fox Indians. In the early 1700s, a large camp of Fox Indians, estimated over eight thousand men, women and children lived in a walled town on the banks of the lake across from what today is Neenah. The Fox Indians were like pirates. They controlled the waterway, intercepting both other Indians and whites as they came through their area taking hostages and extorting furs and other items from those traveling through. This significantly harassed and interfered with the very lucrative fur trade, which in those days was not only a major financial but also political enterprise.

The French could not allow such disruption within their empire so they sent an armed group under the supervision of one of their military commanders to eliminate this band of Indian pirates. It was, as with many of these Indian battles were in those days, a no holds barred, no quarter asked or given, with death to the last enemy person. The French won both battles and the bodies of Fox Indian’s, men, women and children, were piled high and covered with dirt. These mounds became the “Hill of the Dead” and mentioned prominently in writing by exploreres and travelers through the area in the early 1800s.

 THE NEXT WINTER

Six months after I first fished Little Lake Butte des Morts my enlistment ended and I returned to Oshkosh. The plan was to go back to school at the University of Oshkosh, get a commission through their ROTC program and go back in the Army. I had the GI Bill, my wife and I both had part time jobs and between a Wisconsin Vietnam era tuition grant and the money I was making selling magazine stories, I was able to put together what I needed to pay for college tuition. We would be barely comfortable enough to get through the next two years until I could graduate and get my commission. There were some risks involved, but again it was good to be young and be willing to take the chance.

It was exciting to be going back in college again. My grades were much better than they were the first time I was in college before I joined the Army; being a bit older with a sense of purpose made me a much better student. I breezed through the fall and then the first of winter settled in. I got through the first semester and now had almost a month off for winter break. Ice covered the lakes and snow was on the ground. I wanted to go ice fishing and I remembered how good it was on Little Lake Butte des Morts. I got my ice fishing stuff again out of my parent’s basement and got one of my ROTC buddies to go perch fishing with me on Little Lake Butte des Morts.

I remember the day was gray, promising more snow but not for that afternoon. It was chilly but not real cold yet and there was a light wind. We filled thermos jigs with coffee and stopped at a bait shop for three dozen wax worms. This particular bait shop put their wax worms in empty chewing tobacco cans. A couple of weeks later my wife found the container in the refrigerator where I put it, containing the left over wax worms from the last fishing trip. She was upset, thinking I had taken up chewing tobacco. I have had enough bad habits in my life but chewing tobacco wasn’t one of them. I explained those cans were used by the bait shop to pack wax worms in and I hadn’t taken up chewing tobacco. She really didn’t like the idea of having grubs in her refrigerator any more then the thought of my chewing tobacco, but she tolerated them as long as I pushed them way to the back where she wouldn’t see them. We survived the rest of the winter with the grubs in the tobacco cans as long as they were out of sight.

With coffee and bait we were all set up and I drove back to the street in Menasha that took us down to the lake. It was early in the ice fishing season yet and ice wasn’t very thick so it didn’t take long to punch a couple of holes through ice with the water gushing up in the ice holes. Throughout the winter the ice never got anymore then about a foot thick thanks to the current from the Fox River running through the lake. We scooped out the slush, dumped our gear on the ice, turned over the buckets, baited our hooks and we were fishing.

We fished in the shallow bay again like I had a few months before. As it turned out I never fished anywhere else on Little Lake Butte des Morts. For the rest of the winter I fished that bay and caught all the fish I wanted. We poured ourselves a cup of coffee and before we finished it our little bobbers were beginning to dip, bounce and sink in our ice holes. Sitting side by side, there were times we both had fish on at the same time and there were times one of us would have a fish on both jig poles. By the time it was getting dark and night was crawling across the lake, we were out of coffee and had a big pile of perch sitting on the ice. That night my buddy and his wife had a fish fry at his house and my wife and two daughters and I were eating fresh perch fillets at our house. The ice fishing season had good a start.

For the rest of my winter break I worked, wrote a couple articles, watched my two daughters when my wife worked, went rabbit hunting a couple of times and went fishing as often as I could on Little Lake Butte des Morts. Sometime after the middle of January my second semester began. Now the only day I had available to fish was Saturdays. Every Saturday I would leave about mid-morning and fished until I had enough fish for a fish fry. Once I got back home I put the frozen pile of perch in the basement until early evening when they were thawed out enough for me to clean. I would scale and fillet the fish and on Monday evening we had a fish fry.

I did this every Saturday for the next two months and always caught enough fish for our Monday dinner. This became my routine for the winter. Not only was it my outlet and excuse to go fishing every week but it also was a fairly cheap meal every Monday. It only cost me a couple gallons of gas and grubs. There were a couple different types of grubs available at the bait shop. One was wax worms which I started fishing with and the other was mousies. I found mousies to be more durable and worked just as good as wax worms so I used them to extend the use of my bait and normally I could get two weeks out of a three dozen tobacco can. My guess was my weekly fishing trip was costing less than five dollars a week. It was both cheap entertainment as well as an inexpensive meal for a family of four.

Most of my buddies and a few family members joined me every Saturday and we never left without a meal of perch. Some days it was cold and other days warmer. Sometimes it snowed and other days the wind swirled the snow on the ice around us. I remember one morning I only had a sip or two out of my coffee cup when a school of perch came through. It seemed for the next thirty or forty minutes we were very busy. Finally when the fishing slowed down I looked at me coffee cup to see it was full of snow blown into it by the wind.

Another time I came off the ice and wasn’t feeling well. When I got home my face was flushed with fever and when I got home I laid down for a nap. The nap and a handful of aspirin didn’t do much for what was ailing me and I still had a pile of a perch to clean. My wife took pity on me and went down in the basement to help me clean fish. She scaled the fish while I filleted them. Another day I came home with a bad case of chills. I kicked off my boots and sat down in the living room still dressed in Grandpa’s old deer hunting suit and she tucked blankets around me, brought me hot tea and aspirins. It took me a couple of hours before I felt normal again.

Although the fish were small we made up for the size in numbers. I figured for my family of four we needed two dozen of the small perch to make a meal. There were days I caught what I needed in couple of hours and other times it took me four or five hours to catch a meal. I used light fiberglass jig sticks and was always amazed at what a good fight even the smaller perch put up. I had about a dozen jigs I carried in a plastic 35mm film container. There seemed only a handful of panfish jigs available in those days. I used either what was called a tear drop of rocker jig. I used only three colors; either yellow, red or orange. One of those two jigs in one of those colors always seemed to catch fish. In another film container I carried about a half dozen small ice bobbers that weren’t any bigger then a finger nail. Ice fishing in those days was delightfully simple but effective.

Finally the ice fishing season came to an end. It started to get warm as we were edging into spring. It was a warm, bright sunny day. I drove over to the small bay for my Saturday morning a fishing trip. There were a few guys already on the ice when I walked out, and I felt it moving underneath me. Taking my ice pick I jabbed it into the ice and with one blow it went through the ice and water was bubbling up. I slowly backed up until I found thicker ice. I did fish that day and caught a meal of perch but I knew as I walked off the ice a few hours later the season had come to an end.

TWO FISHING BUDDIES

Some forty years later Little Lake Butte des Morts would come back to me. A fishing buddy, Doug Hurd, and I were traveling to northern Wisconsin on a fishing trip and we were talking. Doug grew up in Beloit in southern Wisconsin and I grew up in Oshkosh. In 1972 he enlisted in the Army and went to Alaska. In 1972 I enlisted in the Army and first went to Germany and then Missouri. We did not know each other until some twenty years later we both ended up at Fort Snelling in Minnesota. I would buy my first bass boat from him when he sold it so he could buy a bigger boat. Two years later, we both retired from the Army a month apart from each other. Doug and I became friends and fishing buddies and since then have fished all over Wisconsin and Minnesota together as well as parts of North Dakota and Canada. We have become like brothers and we are part of each other’s family. He and his wife and I and my wife get together regularly to watch Packer games or to have dinner. We know each other’s children, brothers and sisters and parents. We have shared weddings and funerals within each other’s family and births of grandchildren and all the good times and occasional bad times our families have gone through over the years.

At another time our lives converged and we never knew it until we were talking on the drive north to another fishing adventure we shared. In 1975, we both completed our enlistments and both left the Army to go to school. I was living in Oshkosh and going to the college there and Doug lived in Appleton and was going to school there. He also was married but did not have any children then. On Saturdays during the winter he also went ice fishing on Little Lake Butte des Morts. It is very likely we may have fished next to each other or at least close and never knew it. We would both soon return to active duty with the Army and seventeen years later we finally met while work together in the same unit where we both retired.

Now we share a lot of fishing adventures together as well as the common bond of once being brothers in arms. Of the places Doug and I have been to and the friendship we now share, it actually was at Little Lake Butte des Morts where we might have first met and never knew it.

The post Remembering Little Lake: Butte Des Morts appeared first on Morning Moss.

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