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jolapeno · 3 months

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20. rainier grey

frankie morales x f!reader | epilogue of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.8k chapter warnings: dad!frankie. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. flirting. they're no longer idiots. an: the end

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key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

You sure you got everything from the house, baby? I think so! Does this mean you're giving the keys in?

Unpacking another box, you slide a photograph onto the shelf, right next to his. You smile, shifting it, trying to make your things look like they belong as much as his.

Evidence of you already slotting in. Books sitting with his, plants finding homes in corners that look as though they were made for them.

Yeah. Unless you've changed your mind? Not even a little bit. Good. Because I already handed them in. And what if I had said I thought I’d forgotten something?

The bubbles in the corner appear, fluttering and twitching, until they vanish. You roll your eyes, grabbing a tissue-wrapped small artificial cactus, placing it, and tilting your head as your phone vibrates.

You know I’ve checked the place twice. Did the sex chair go into storage okay, by the way?

Even from here, you know he snorted. A breathy laugh, one that has and will always make your lips press together before sliding up into a smirk. You giggle at it, imagining him trying to suppress it if he's with people. Shaking your head at the image as you see him typing.

You gotta stop calling your office chair a sex chair. Well, the only thing that happened in it was that. Gonna drive now, you menace. Hurry home, baby.

Sighing, you rip the tape from the underside of the box and flatten it, staring at the wasteland of boxes that have taken over his living room. Despite the chaos, you feel like you're finally home, for the time in a long time.

A thing you'd whispered to him when he'd hooked his leg over yours in bed this morning.

Steam billowed, carrying the scent of spices, tomatoes, and herbs blending into the air as you hear the front door open.

It brings a smile, tugging at the corners of your mouth, even though this should feel ordinary by now. A thing you should be used to, it feels like the first day all over again.

No more boxes, all unpacked, places for everything and newly learnt routines that you know to listen for.

Head turned to the doorway, hearing one thing after the other landing in the bowl: Keys, wallet and two thuds of his boots being removed.

It's all a routine now, something normal. Dinner is divided between whoever arrives home first. If he gets home first, he starts it, the two of you relying on the board on the wall to keep track. The one that's a vibrant array of colours—butterscotch orange, dinosaur green, and rainy day blue—highlighting the various shifts, jobs, and school pick-ups your month has in store.

This week, it’s a lot of orange. Things are picking up, with more word getting out about Frankie’s business and what he can do. The reviews are trickling in, and you know he’s already quickly outgrowing the summer house in the back garden. You commented on it when the two of you made the decision, something he assured you would be fine. You still agree that paying for two homes wasn’t a wise choice when he was already taking a risk.

Risky—a word you could never use to describe him. But a word you let him have, relenting, melting into his arms as you bid goodbye to the office he made you, with the promise of a better one in the future.

Now, standing in the kitchen that used to be just his and is now ours, you count in your head the seconds until his arms slide around your middle, his mouth pressing a kiss to your head.

“Smells good.”

Turning your head, fingers sliding under his chin—you steal a kiss, and another, sliding your digits around his jaw before they’re tangling in his hair.

“Could get used to this.” You hum against his mouth, murmuring a what that makes him smile, smirk, right up against yours. “You in our kitchen.”

“Well, it has been months now—I’d hope you’d be used to it.”

Shrugging, running his hands up down your arms, he steps back and leans on the counter. On the days when he beats you home, you bring home stories of Harry, customers and the random paint name you’ve found that you make him guess the shade of until he gets it right. Tonight, you ask him how his day has been. A mundane question, a thing that arises every day and yet the answer is never the same.

He talks about another enquiry, how the photos of your old office space, in the place you once called home, had inspired another couple to get in touch. And you try not to smirk, to wear a knowing smile, but instead nod, stirring and grabbing plates as he folds his arms and keeps his gaze on you.

A thing you thought would have lessened, but hasn’t.

“You need my help with this one, or?”

Shaking his head, folding his arms—looking you up and down as he traces his tongue across his bottom lip.

“What?”

“We said if we did this you wouldn’t try and do it all.”

You might not groan outwardly, but you do inwardly. His brows raise as though knowing so too, a thing which almost drags a laugh out of you. Almost.

“Come here,” he says, hand extended, finding your slides in as he drags you close. “I appreciate you, you know that?”

“I do.”

Good, he whispers, brushing your cheek with his thumb—the roughness of it making liquid heat spark in your stomach as you bite the inside of your cheek.

“You want a hand dishing up?”

Shaking your head, you kiss his wrist. “No. Go change—you can’t do it all.”

His snigger stays in the kitchen with you, long after he’s left to go change.

Luca told me something interesting at drop off.

Not sure I want to know.

Apparently, we’re getting a dog?

Little shit. No. He asked me and I said I’d think about it.

Well, apparently he thinks that Saturday when we pick him up we’re going to get him a dog that lives at our house.

Fuck.

Fuck indeed.

Are we against a dog?

It takes a second for the squeals to calm down.

Your arms may be scratched, and you may have wanted to sob as you tried to build the crate on your own, but the joy thrumming inside you as Frankie wrestles the puppy and Luca screams with laughter makes it all worth it.

It feels right that there are two bowls on the kitchen floor, both sitting on a plastic mat covered with paw prints.

It makes the home feel complete, even with a wet patch on the rug, even with your new shoe marked with tiny teeth marks, and even though you're exhausted beyond words.

Grinning, you lean back on the couch, watching Frankie pretend to bark and growl as the puppy tries to nip at him. The two alternate between rolling around, evading each other, the creased laugh marks on Frankie's nearly enough to make you get on the floor and join him, just to brush your fingers against them.

Instead, you teasingly poke the boy next to you. “Luca, what do you want to call him?”

Mouth sliding from side to side, Luca shuffles and bounces along the sofa before his head comes to rest on your arm. Frankie shifts to playing a version of tug-of-war. “Tyler.”

“Tyler?” Frankie asks, pausing to stroke the retriever's ears.

Luca smiles and then beams. “Like tyrannosaurus.”

Somehow, you suspected you should have seen that coming.

“Okay, well, Tyler needs to go to the toilet. Do you want to try and take him?”

Luca, nodding and smiling, taps your arm. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course I will.”

As you stand, you catch sight of Frankie beaming up at you, warmth flooding your cheeks and ears at the sight of it.

What are you doing for lunch, baby?

Well, I was going to treat myself to a coffee and maybe a sweet treat. But what are you thinking?

I was thinking of letting Tyler out, bringing you fast food and sitting in the office at Harolds?

Oh, it’s been a while since we’ve done that. I like that our roles have reversed here.

I know. Do you know when Harold will let you have lunch?

Delivery is almost away, and then I just have to do a few bits.

I’ll be there in an hour. I’ve missed your face today.

Sounds good. Maybe you should have spent more time with it this morning then, than between my legs.

I have zero regrets about how I started my day.

“Have you seen the yard—I think that’s enough room for Tyler, how much bigger can he even grow after a year, and look here...”

Your fingers loop in between his, tugging him, practically dragging him with you to the kitchen window—the slightly overgrown grass and white fence greeting the two of you.

It’s the eleventh house the two of you have seen. Fingers brush over his thumb as he follows you around the rooms in a house that’s spacious, with three bedrooms, and two-and-a-half baths. It’s airy, light—ridiculously bright.

But it needs work.

A thing you can tell he’d thought on sight, even if the most he’s done is make a snort or a hum.

You suspect Frankie is paying more attention to the things wrong with it, than what is right. Missing some of the things you point out to him, too busy calculating square footage as the two of you walk around it. Ignoring your opinions on floor-to-ceiling bookcases and hallway mirrors, if the two of you could get a bigger bed than you both have now.

You do think he catches that you think Luca should have the largest room—your reasoning dripping from your tongue that he needs space as he grows up, that you both have a bigger closet in the second biggest.

“—And, we'd probably need to get him one of those beds soon, the ones where he has space under for a pull-out or a desk. The closet is decent, but we’ll have to get him some drawers too.”

Your fingers trace along the doors of the closet as he blinks, coming back to you, to the house, to the room.

“Wait—what…”

And you smile. Not just with kindness or joy, but with everything. Push it outwards, hoping it stretches its warmth out over the entire room, hoping it’ll surround him, maybe he’ll allow it to wrap itself around him as you tilt your head.

“I think this should be Luca’s room.”

Walking towards you, the heels on his boot sounding on the wooden flooring. “Baby, you can’t think that. For one, this house is—“

“Perfect,” you finish, palms finding his cheeks, thumb stroking the hair on either side of his lip. “It’s perfect, Frankie.”

You can see it, even if he doesn’t say it: it isn’t.

You’ve suspected for a while that he has an idea of a home the two of you should have. He’d whispered it to you three months ago in bed, head buried in your neck, fingers fanned over your hips as he talked about garden size, a pool, a workshop and even an office.

In some capacity, this house ticks some of those boxes. It has a spacious kitchen, it has a decent yard and a pool that needs a deep clean. There’s a room that could be an office, but would most likely be a spare bedroom for friends, for Benny or one of your own.

And, you’re grinning. Watching him smile in response, all radiant like he thinks you’re the reason the world rotates.

Then he says it, the thing which has been ticking behind the scenes. Unsaid, unspoken—ignored as though it doesn’t have its own pulse. “You deserve better.”

You don’t mean to, but your forehead wrinkles, brows knitting together as your smile fades into a thin line. Feeling it, etched and written across your face as shame works across him. The evidence of a battle he’s having with himself—something churning, twisting as you slide your hands down his neck and loop them at the back.

It’s clear now it’s been needling him—likely making his chest tight, wrapping vines around his chest, all thick and full of spikes, as he rolls his neck and sighs.

Tilting your head, trying to keep your tone level, you whisper, “Baby, what do you mean?”

Because the realtor is downstairs.

Not wanting to cause a fight—a scene. Your skin prickles as you momentarily panic that you’re whisper isn’t a whisper, when his mouth opens, but no sound leaves it. Worry tangles in your head, and in your throat as you move closer. Wanting more words to appear, to conjure, tell me, tell me, tell me, burning a hole in your tongue as you need him.

Your hand brushes his cheek, forehead smoothing out—concern replacing earlier confusion. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The edges of your mouth twitch. “And, I love this house.”

He snorts, shaking his head as you glare.

“Don’t… don’t do that, Francisco. Don’t think for me because you’ve concocted some image of what I want.”

Letting his eyes hang down, he sighs. “I’m not–I’m not doing that.”

“You are. You… you’re looking at each house as if it has a checklist to meet—like it’s being measured against something.”

“Doesn’t it?”

You sigh, dropping your hands from his face. And you miss touching him the moment you do. Wanting to place them back, have him take your wrists and put them back, but you’re already folding them, shaking your head as you stare out the window.

“You can’t be mad at me for wanting the best for you.”

You snort this time, narrowing your eyes as you shoot him a glare that says you can, and you will.

“If, and I mean if we take this house, I… I want, no, I need to do a lot of work on it. Because you deserve the house of your dreams, and admittedly, I can’t afford to give it to you. Because houses are fucking expensive, but I can make it for you.”

Biting down on your lip, you glance, catching the sight of him running a hand over his face. Fingers pinching the inside of your arm as you try not to let tears bubble, swim and then fall.

“I… I don’t want that.”

“What do you mean?”

You look up, blinking away the tears. Seeing the doubt spread across his face, like he wants to rewind the clock—take back ever saying you deserve better.

And you don’t want to fight, not with him.

“Frankie… I don’t want it to be my dream house, I want it to be ours.”

He takes a step towards you. “I know.”

But you raise your hands, not pushing him back, but not inviting him in either.

“But you don’t. You’re not picturing a doorframe we can keep measuring Luca growing up. You’re not thinking of warm Sundays with our friends around the pool—and you’re not seeing the lick of paint needed so our bedroom is a little dimmer, so your eyes don’t burn from all the off-white.

“I don’t need an office—I like working with you and at Harold’s. And, yes, I’m not walking around thinking you won’t have to do anything to this house, because, of course, you will. You’re good, you have an eye. We wouldn’t even be thinking of buying something bigger if you weren’t. But, you started a business a year ago—we can’t afford perfect. But we can buy good and make it perfect. If, and when you stop thinking of me, and instead us.”

Brushing a hand over his face, he takes a moment. Swallowing a sigh, an annoyed grunt. His fingers itch at his forehead, pushing strands of hair under his hat before he drops it and stares at you.

“You really want this one?”

Nodding, you roll your lips. “What about you?”

And so he looks around. Hands digging into his jacket pockets, walking in slow footsteps around the room—

Hoping you've helped him see it, picture it, with all your earlier ramblings.

Where the wooden trunk he made will go, the bed you just talked about—the prints of stars, spaceships and galaxies. He glances out of the window, spotting the long drive and the trimmed grass—the quiet neighbourhood that he could teach Luca to ride his bike in.

He feels you come up behind him, arms sneaking around his waist, his hands clutching your fingers as he smiles.

“You want to take another tour, Morales?”

He smiles, nodding, before he turns in your arms so he’s facing you, clutching your face as he kisses you. One which is full of sorry’s and love.

He lingers his palms on your face, just for a fraction. “Will you tell me all the other things you picture as we walk around?”

Grinning again, like before. One which would rival the sun and the beauty of the full moon on a clear night sky.

“Sure,” you whisper, taking his hand, leading him out of the room that in several months will be his son’s.

I’ve packed our case and it’s in the shower in our en-suite, so do not turn the water on without looking. Luca’s is half done, but just need you to help me with a few last-minute bits?

Can I ask why our suitcase is in the shower or am I missing something?

Luca is being nosy. He goes into our bathroom but not into the shower. Trying to keep a surprise from him is harder than you think when I apparently “have lying face”.

You do look very suspicious when you lie.

Good job I don’t have to lie for a living.

Is he behaving?

We’ve baked cookies for tomorrow—even if he thinks it's for a movie day. And he’s currently using my iPad to talk to Sam.

I keep hiding in rooms with boxes so he doesn't ask me things.

Rainy, baby.

I know, but it's only a few more hours, right?

Yeah, promise. Sam called me earlier, and said she has managed to get Monday off so she can meet us there on Sunday—says we should pick somewhere in the park so she can surprise him properly.

Do you want me to get to thinking and then text her?

If you don’t mind baby? I should be done here around 7.

Sounds good. Gives me something to focus on until you're home.

You sure you're doing okay?

I’ll be better when we tell him tonight, I’m feeling really bad about lying to him even if it’s for a good reason.

I promise you, the moment he realises we’re going, you’ll see how it’s worth it.

I know. Plus, the promise of you in Mickey Mouse ears is really keeping me going.

The photo of you getting off one of the rides is what is keeping me going.

Mean.

But I love you.

Love you too.

Peaceful—that’s how you’d describe it.

Condensation slips under your fingers, sliding under your wrist, pooling at the watch strap as you hear him shouting something to someone as he makes his way over. The music is quieter over here, the loud voice that attempts to synchronise with the lyrics seems less shrieking, and more full of harmony.

You were only hovering on the outskirts to call to see if Tyler was okay, and then you found yourself lingering. A moment needed, not questioned or protested.

You know that's why he’s been biding his time. Watching, eyes flicking to you just in case you beckon him to come. Now, you smile as he approaches, it pulled from you with so much ease it's reactionary at this point, no thought. Just a-Frankie-smile, all his, hopefully forever his.

The once-warm air has now cooled, whipping the fabric around your frame as he saunters over.

“Wondered how long it would take you.”

Snorting, he takes a sip from his glass—letting it wet his lips, admiring the same view you have been for some time.

Slipping his hand around your waist, you move closer with ease. Hip moving to hip, cheek coming to rest on his shoulder—contentment filling your bones when he brushes his fingers up and down your back.

“You cold?”

“Not now.”

And he smiles, light—it coming with ease now that he has you back by his side.

“Missed you.”

“That’s because you’re a needy boy, Butterscotch.”

Snorting, he buries it in your neck—light, airy—before pressing a kiss to your head and turning to watch those moving on the dance floor. The soft glow of twinkling lights shimmering in his brown, fingers teasing up and down his white shirt.

The moment is only punctuated by a distant sound—a shift in melody embedded into the night breeze. It takes a second, one far too much before you recognise the tune, the song. Smirking to yourself as you remember your passionate rendition in his car the other week. An updated version to the one over a year ago. The look the same, though, all grin, all teeth and almost crinkled eyes.

You feel him turning your head, eyes meeting his.

It’s simple, uncomplicated—a movement that seems rehearsed as you move, leaning, resting your head on his chest as you feel a soft sigh escape his lips.

“When we do this, we’re eloping.”

Brow arching, he smiles. “When?”

“Like you’re not desperate to slip a ring on my finger, Morales.”

Snorting, resting his chin on your head, you take a comforting breath.

Hearing him swallow, you look at him, finding his tongue flicking against his teeth as he stares ahead at the party. “What if I was… desperate?”

Smirking, finding his eyes now on you, even if his head is facing forward. “Well, Frankie, maybe I’d be desperate to say yes.”

Have I told you today you’re beautiful?

Are you texting me from across our hotel room?

I am. I can see your smile in the mirror.

How the roles have reversed. You look good in a suit, have I told you that?

Told me I look good in a different kind of suit today.

Oh baby, you always rock that one very well.

Can’t believe I’m marrying you today.

Can’t believe there’s a chance I’m going to be married by the real Elvis today.

I hope he says uh-huh-a-huh.

If he doesn’t, I say we annul and try again.

You do really look beautiful.

You should take a photo with Will’s camera—I guarantee I’ll get sauce down me.

You and white.

It’s actually rainier grey, but maybe I should have worn butterscotch.

Not sure I’d have survived that. Already pretty close to falling apart at the sight of you now.

Shut up and come here and kiss me.

AN: The End.

God, I was emotional last week, but as much as I am this week, I'm just grateful. Grateful you've all followed, that I got to tell this exactly how I wanted to. But, mainly, that you let this pair into your hearts. I love you, thank you.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales

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y1lfaen · 2 months

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casa jacaranda

▸ residental rental ▸ 6 units, laundry space ▸ ciudad enamorada, caminito del deseo ▸ 50x40 ▸ cc used ▸ partially furnished (kitchens and bathrooms) ▸ gallery id: yilfaen ▸ or download ▸ place with bb.moveobjects on

cc list and more pictures (including floorplan) under the cut

cc and packs used

It seems like a lot of stuff but it's just one or two objects per pack since I'm apparently unable to use same packs. There were two plants listed in s4ti which I did not recognize (no thumbnail, named only "plants") so let me know if the game tells you you are missing objects even when you downloaded everything! peacemaker creta kitchen (cabinets only) heybrine indonis kitchen sixam cc for rent addons (industrial cluster mailbox) max20 garage and storage (cars only) & poolside lounge (bar cart) sooky potted plants pierisim domaine du clos & woodland ranch pt. 2 (sink only) mr. olkan cool pools myshunosun garden stories 1 & garden stories 2 felixandre grove pt. 4 (shutters) & florence pt. 2 (windows) house of harlix jardane tudtuds casa caipira marsosims papasecure magnoliidae leafy ground cover plumbob paparazzi call box alexpilgrim castle estate add-on plasticbox floors & desert plants picture amoebae deco revival walls

packs used: lovestruck, for rent, horse ranch, growing together, high school years, cottage living, snowy escape, eco lifestyle, discover university, island living, cats and dogs, city living, get together, get to work, werewolves, my wedding stories, strangerville, jungle adventure, parenthood, spa day, laundry day, bowling night stuff, backyard stuff, perfect patio stuff, riviera retreat, courtyard oasis

@mmfinds @sssvitlanz @s4realtor

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #s4 build #ts4 build #s4 download #my builds #show us your builds #sims 4 maxis match

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ucchicookie · 4 months

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Sailormoon 🌙

GojoHime au (kid au, fluff, non-sorcerer au)

Throwback to the now married Gojo Satoru and Iori Utahime's precious childhood memories.

Note: Originally posted on ao3

The Gojo household is currently busy unpacking things and organizing their newly purchased home after deciding to move, realizing that their previous property has become smaller for their growing children. Their first-born son recently turned ten and has developed an interest in cooking. Naturally, their previously spacious kitchen has become too small for the additional cook of the family.

Utahime, the matriarch of the Gojo household, wants the best for their son to hone his talent. Satoru, being the best hype man and father, instantly purchased a bigger home. The Princess of the family, their daughter, also requested a bigger garden to play with their pets. No one can resist their pretty little daughter, especially Satoru.

Utahime is currently arranging the storage with her seven-year-old daughter tailing her in hopes of helping her mother when suddenly the little getting her hands into something pretty and interesting.

"Mama!" She chirped excitedly as she showed a familiar costume of a popular heroine of a famous anime. "I want to wear this one!"

"Do you know Sailor Moon?" Utahime asks softly as she runs her hand through the certain costume. The little girl nodded.

More than 20 years have passed but the garment has maintained its quality. It needs some fresh air since it was stocked too long in a box but with a few cleanings, and trimming of some loose thread on the hem of the skirt, the Sailor Moon costume is still ready to be worn.

She maintained and treasured the said outfit, making sure it would last long as it held a precious memory of her childhood with her husband. Since that day, she has made sure that the story about her special Halloween will get passed on to her grandchildren. Utahime will never be forgotten.

Utahime pats her daughter's head as she giggles. Grinning from ear to ear, the mother nods in approval. "Make sure to model it to your brother and father after dinner, okay?"

Thirty minutes before the start of trick or treat. The children, dressed in their Halloween costumes ranging from scary creatures to cartoon characters, were all excited to get their hands on the candies they could possibly garner for roaming in the neighbourhood.

At that very last minute, Satoru changed his mind about the costume he was currently wearing, deciding he did not feel like wearing the robot costume anymore. His mother and he had planned it for months already. Being the mom who knew her son too well, had asked the seven-year-old if he was certain about the robot costume several times and the boy answered yes every single time. She was stressed out as Satoru threw a tantrum about wanting to change into something else out of nowhere. The reason was unknown.

Satoru was left alone in his room as his mother had left to search for a new costume that could be available instantly. The little boy tried the tiger onesie he wore last year only to be disappointed as the costume was ill-fitting. Satoru has grown a lot since last year. A frown painted on his face, afraid to skip the event where he could get all the chocolates in the neighbourhood. However, he refused to wear the robot costume.

Minutes later, his mother arrived with a white box in her hand. She placed it on the floor as she presented it to his son.

"I managed to borrow this from your cousin." Satoru's mother showed the said backup costume as little Satoru waited excitedly only to be left disappointed.

"No." Satoru crossed his arms, tears threatening to escape his big blue eyes. If the robot costume was bad, the new costume was the worst. With that being said, the boy threw another tantrum which made his mother sigh.

"This is all I could get. Your aunt and cousin were generous enough to dig into their closet to get this costume." She tried to explain in hopes of persuading the crying boy.

There was no sign of giving in and it made her want to give up. Her patience was known for being long, always being praised for being able to keep up with the little brat's naughty attitude. However, someone like her has limits too. The boy managed to reach it.

With her arms crossed on her chest, she looked at her son sternly, showing how serious she was and that throwing unnecessary tantrums would no longer work. "You either wear your original costume or that Sailor Moon costume that your cousin lent you."

"I don't want to wear any of those..." This time, Satoru's voice became softer, his glossy lips were quivering, tears pooling in his eyes.

"Then you can't participate in the trick-or-treat."

The words his mother dropped were the signal for his tears to fall completely. His cries were loud. Being unable to join would be very disappointing for him. As much as his mother felt bad for the crying child, she wouldn't let Satoru get his way every single time he wished to. A series of rings from their doorbell echoed throughout their home, it was Satoru's friends. Everyone was all dressed up and ready to go except him who was still in his pajamas.

"You can't make your friends wait for too long. You should decide now. Would you wear any of these costumes or you won't be going? Make up your mind now." She told the kid one last time as she wiped the child's tears. "Do you like the robot costume?"

Satoru shook his head.

"Then your only option is the sailor moon one."

"But Sailor Moon is a girl. This is for girls." Satoru replied, a frown painted on his face.

His mother cupped his cheeks as she smiled at him. "It doesn't matter. You are still the cutest. Besides, it's Halloween, anyone can dress any character they like to do." She consoles her son. "Look at Shoko, she is wearing a grim reaper. Come on baby, Halloween only comes once a year. I will assure you that everyone will give you even more chocolates than last year because you look cute."

After the pep talk between the mother and son, Satoru decided to stop being stubborn and wear the costume. It was a new and awkward feeling for the baby Satoru to say the least. He was looking at himself in the mirror, wearing a school uniform-looking costume. A white top with a blue-collar, adorned with a red bow, a blue skirt reaching almost his knees, a red knee-length booth, white gloves reaching his elbows and a blonde wig with pigtails with the most important part, the gold tiara on the forehead. His mother was fawning over his adorable son.

Being insecure about wearing a girl's costume, Satoru refused to go outside his room. His mother was preparing the candies, leaving him alone. Suddenly, a soft knock on his bedroom dorm was heard before it opened revealing his friends. They all look great. He thought.

Satoru was waiting for them to laugh and make fun of him for looking ridiculous. However, nothing was said or heard. Instead, they walked towards him.

"C'mon Satoru let's go or else the other group will take all the candies." Suguru, who was wearing a pirate costume, told him as he took his hand.

"I don't want to... I look funny..." Satoru replied.

"You don't. Don't be a baby and let's leave." Shoko, the grim reaper, added.

Utahime, on the side, observed carefully. Satoru looks cute in his costume, however, he feels insecure and discouraged to the point that chocolates and candies no longer work as persuasion. She needed to do something so he wouldn't feel out of place. An idea popped into her head!

"Wait for me here, I'll be right back!" She runs swiftly on her Cinderella dress, on her way back to their home which was right beside the Gojo's. Asking for her brother's tuxedo and dress shirt which he prepared instantly, she quickly made a DIY mask using white cardboard with the help of her father. Thanks to her mother, she was able to change quickly from the Cinderella ball gown to a tuxedo. Her brother also gave him his favourite magician hat. Her mother simply pinned her hair, enough to make it seem that it was short as they didn't have any wigs for her.

Suguru and Shoko were shocked at her last-minute costume change though it looked perfect on their eldest friend. Utahime asked Suguru to let her borrow the cape that he was wearing since it was unnecessary for his pirate costume which the boy gladly did. Everything was set and all that was left was to meet Satoru.

Satoru's bedroom door opened revealing a boy, however, it wasn't a boy. It was Utahime.

"I came to save you, Satoru."

The boy's eyes widened, his eyes were sparkling, cheeks turned pink. Utahime, who was previously Cinderella, was wearing a Tuxedo Mask costume, Sailor Moon's love interest. The sweet girl changed her costume to complement his. That made him feel better as he no longer felt ostracized.

"Let's go!" Utahime extended her hand as she ushered the little boy to come outside and enjoy.

Throughout the trick-or-treat event, Utahime stayed close to Satoru, not letting go of his hand. Satoru's mom was right! The parents were squealing at Satoru's cuteness, and also at the two children's dynamic. Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask ruled the Halloween event, garnering the most candies.

It was the best Halloween for Satoru and Utahime. The boy's worry has vanished as he had a good time, thanks to Utahime's kindness. As a remembrance, Satoru's mother took a picture of the duo, treasuring it forever.

"Our daughter wants to show you something," Utahime said as she sat beside her husband who was currently watching TV with their son.

There goes a child wearing a familiar costume, something that he treasures yet the source of his embarrassment as an adult. Satoru covered his face, ears turning red as a certain memory flashed in his mind. The embarrassment has yet to come when Utahime showed her children their photos that day.

"Oh my gosh, is that you papa?" Their eldest son was surprised at a little boy wearing the sailor moon costume. He tries his best to keep that album away from Utahime's hands. Yet, she always managed to figure out where he hid it. He can still clearly remember Suguru and Shoko laughing their hearts out. Those evil creatures.

The house is filled with laughter as they browse the photo album. It might be embarrassing but that was the day he realized he had a crush on that girl wearing a Tuxedo Mask costume.

A kiss on his cheek snaps him back to reality. Utahime knows she will get in trouble for it, hence, comforting her husband with kisses on his face.

"That won't work wifey. Better prepare yourself. In the name of the moon, I'll punish you." He simply replied, referrencing Sailor Moon's iconic line.

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count-alucard-tepes · 2 months

Text

Headcanons for my Kengan Ashura/Omega hotties😍 - What they're watching on TV and the snacks they're eating📺

Raian Kure👹: true crime documentaries, he snacks on a lot of sugar even though he shouldn't

Kanoh Agito😁: the history channel, he's eating a whole family size cheesecake...he needs the calories

Kaolan Wongsawat🥊: kitchen nightmares, thai fried bananas and mango sticky rice

Kiryu Setsuna🥰: CCTV footage of Ohma🤣 JF, he watches the bachelor with his step sisters and snacks on pizza

Adam Dudley😬: American football, he snacks on all the junk food he can find at the import store

Hatsumi Sen😍: k dramas, he has beers

Sekibayashi Jun🤼‍♂️: wrestling, popcorn and beer

Hassad❤️‍🩹: Bollywood dramas, hummus and falafel

Himuro Ryo🤍: the amazing race, cup ramen

Inaba Ryo🖤: cartoons, whipped cream sandwiches

Kiozan Takeru🤼‍♂️: wrestling, doesn’t snack so he’d have some tea

Muteba Gizenga🪖: listens to music, he usually just drinks wine

Nikaido Ren🤩: storage wars, he’s a healthy snacker so peanut butter and apples

Sawada Keizaburo💅: say yes to the dress, he snacks on cold cuts

Yoroizuka Saw Paing😜: American ninja warrior, he likes to snack on jaggery

Retsudo Katahara🕵️: bar rescue, he snacks on sushi being the bougie bitch he is

Takamaya Minoru😷: formula 1: drive to survive, sour cream and onion crisps

Long Min🥷: shark tank, egg salad sandwiches

Misasa😎 : special forces, he eats a lot so usually he gets bento boxes as snacks

Takeshi Wakatsuki 💪: strongman YouTube videos, whipped cream in a can

Narushima Joji 🍺: mukbangs, all the beer he can find

Shen Wulong 🔌: cat videos, lots of alcohol

Xia Yan🪱: wildlife documentaries, cup ramen

King Rama XIII��: anything with beautiful women, fruits from his palace gardens

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ravendruid · 15 days

Note

Hi there! I’m new here and would like to ask for your September prompts, Critical Role, Vaxleth, number 28 please

Hi!! Welcome in! Thank you so much for sending a prompt, I really appreciate it. I'm sorry it took me a few days to write it, I hope you like it ^_^

A Slice of Life

(Read on AO3)

Vax’ildan is not used to being the first one to wake up but since the heat of the Zephrahn summer has been unbearable on him, Vax has been waking up shortly after dawn for the past two days thanks to the already sweltering heat that makes it impossible for him to be under the covers with Keyleth, who, by herself, is already a naturally hot person. Vax doesn’t usually have to wait too long for Keyleth to turn in bed, face him, and kiss him good morning with her sleep-crusted eyes and hoarse voice, but for some reason, his usually morning butterfly of a girlfriend is enjoying the softness of the sheets this morning, so Vax takes the chance to stretch out like a cat and pads quietly out of the bedroom.

Their house is not big. It’s a one-bedroom cottage near the center of Zephrah, not too far from the building that acts as what some might call a town hall. It was an easy choice once Keyleth saw the vine and moss covered walls, the small but cute garden outback shaded by a large oak tree with a wooden swing hanging from a thick branch, and the pebbled path surrounded by bee and butterfly-friendly flowers. It didn’t matter much to Vax where they would stay in regards to proximity of work or what the house would look like as long as Keyleth was happy, but he has to admit that the charm of the run-down cottage has grown on him, especially with the work and hours Vax and Keyleth have put into repairing it.

The proportion of the rooms is not too far off with the house itself. The kitchen has limited counter space that has taught Vax to cherish storage spaces, with a small stove and oven, a sink and an ice box big enough for both of them; the living and dining room is one single area where they keep a high table with two stools behind the back of the soft, green couch. There was no room for Keyleth’s favorite armchair, though, so they opted to let it remain at her father’s house, but Keyleth affirmed she would not leave her favorite plush rug behind, so that is now decorating the floor between the couch and the fireplace. They also purchased a handmade bookshelf from a local woodcarver, who, when told who this order was for, carved their initials on the wood at the top. It now stands against a wall, holding the majority of Keyleth’s books—everything from Alchemy and Herbs, to romance and fairytale books—and all the trinkets Vax has collected over their years of adventuring. Their bedroom is probably one of the largest rooms in the house, with a big glass window that faces the backyard and the mountains. Keyleth had fun decorating it in a way that would include both their tastes and personalities, which Vax loved, and adding more ivy and plants everywhere she could. Sometimes Vax feels like he’s still sleeping under the canopy of a forest and not in a house.

Vax looks at the ice box when he steps into the kitchen area and he’s already shaking his head because he knows he will find it practically empty. Keyleth has had to travel to Vasselheim quite a lot this week, so they haven’t had the opportunity to get many homemade meals, and because of that, their groceries are lacking. However, Vax still finds enough to whip up something: a small carton of eggs Korrin brought over yesterday, a little bit of milk left from Vax’s breakfasts, and even a few slices of bacon. It’s not much, but it’ll do. As long as they have coffee, Vax knows he will be safe.

So Vax puts on the black apron Keyleth made for him, the one where she embroidered Kiss the Rogue on the chest area in red with a fanged mouth—she will never let him forget how his first instinct was to charm the Briarwoods to get out of trouble the first time he encountered them—last Winter’s Crest, and he starts preparing breakfast, which doesn’t take too long.

Vax was fully expecting the smell of fresh brewed coffee and crispy bacon would be enough to rouse Keyleth, but it seems like his druid might be having a bad case of lazy morning because when he cracks the bedroom door open to check on her, she is still sleeping, snoring lightly while sprawled out on the bed with the sheets bundled at her feet and her red, messy braid falling on his pillow. Vax can’t help but chuckle at the sight as he crosses the bedroom to open the window. It doesn’t do much to stave off the heat (if anything it brings even more heat), but at least the singing of the birds is louder and the room feels more in-tune with nature.

“Kiki,” Vax calls softly, brushing a strand of hair from the little of Keyleth’s face he can see. The woman doesn’t stir, so far out she is to the world. Vax can’t blame her with all the work Keyleth has had, with the nights she’s been staying up, looking up information, reading reports and other documents, until Vax says ‘enough is enough’ and drags her to bed. Keyleth needs this rest, which is the biggest reason that Vax decides to try only one more time. If she doesn’t wake up, then it’s because she clearly isn’t ready to.

“Keyleth,” Vax shakes her shoulder lightly this time. Finally there is a sign of recognition as Keyleth stirs and hums. “Morning, beautiful,” Vax brushes Keyleth’s hair, speaking softly when she starts moving her long, sprawled out limbs. He watches as the druid curls into herself and, for a moment, Vax regrets waking her up, but then Keyleth slowly opens one eye, followed by the other, and he gets to see those bright, green eyes he loves so much, and every thought leaves his head.

“Uhm,” Keyleth hums, turning on her back and stretching out like a starfish as long as she can, which makes Vax laugh. He’s never seen her like this, so sleepy and relaxed. It’s adorable. “No,” Keyleth grumbles, bringing her bottom lip up in a pout when she sees Vax.

“No?”

“Come back to bed,” Keyleth orders. Vax laughs again and shakes his head, saying, “It’s too hot, and I made breakfast.”

The last word seems to be incentive enough to make Keyleth open her eyes wider and focus on him, and Vax can practically see the cog wheels of her brain dust off the rust and start working.

“Coffee?” She asks.

“Coming right up,” Vax kisses her forehead before he steps out into the kitchen, where he grabs both mugs of coffee and brings them back to the bedroom. “Would you also like breakfast in bed, your highness?” He jokes. Keyleth doesn’t reply until after she grabs the coffee mug from him, takes a large gulp and sighs from the quick boost of caffeine.

“Yes, please.”

“Sorry it’s not much,” Vax apologizes when he brings a plate with eggs, toast and bacon. “We’re running out of food.”

“It’s everything,” Keyleth smiles like a little kid on Winter’s Crest. “It tastes good too.”

“I’m glad,” Vax kisses her cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a stone.”

“I could tell. You were snoring really loud. I think everyone in town heard you.” Vax jokes, waggling his eyebrows at her. Keyleth gives him an offended look which Vax can’t take seriously due to the piece of toast hanging out of her mouth.

“Liar. I did not snore,” Keyleth admonishes him. Vax snorts into his coffee and gives her a wink over the rim of his mug. “Did you sleep well?” Keyleth asks.

“Too hot. Seriously, why is it so hot here?” Vax complains and to emphasize, he takes off his sweat-damp tunic.

“Not a lot of wind to cool things down,” Keyleth explains. “I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense, considering we are the Air Ashari, but the protective barrier that keeps all the bad weather out also keeps out most of the winds that are characteristic of the Summit Peaks, which means it can get pretty toasty in Zephrah.”

“Can you do something about it?” Vax asks. Keyleth can do a lot of pretty awesome things these days—one of her most recent tricks is being able to turn into a dragon, which almost sent Vax to an early grave from admiration the first time he witnessed it—so maybe she can do something about the heat.

“Technically, I can, yes, but I would need the agreement from the rest of the elder council.”

The stupid elder council, Vax thinks. The group of older, wiser people that ensure the wishes of all citizens are met, or at least heard. They would never allow Keyleth to change the protective barrier to allow more wind through to lower the town’s temperature because, in Vax’s opinion, they are all a group of stuck-up, ancient old bags who hate change and keep rejecting every single proposal Keyleth has brought to the table when it concerns the development of Zephrah (including the creation of an elite group of soldiers whose job would be to protect the town, and technically the Tempest, from external threats).

“I’ll see what I can do,” Keyleth promises when she notices Vax’s downcast gaze.

“You know… things would be easier if you’d just allow me to have a little talk with them,” Vax mumbles. It’s only here, in the safety of their home, that Keyleth feels free and secure enough to voice her thoughts and, on several occasions, she has voiced how much she hates the council and their blocks to her plans, and it’s not that Vax prefers violence, but he has offered his assassin services to her on multiple occasions… or at least just enough to scare them off.

“This is my battle, Vax,” Keyleth replies sternly, as she always does. “But thank you. I appreciate the offer.” She leans in to kiss his cheek.

Vax picks up Keyleth’s empty plate and mug and sets them on his nightstand with his empty dishes. “You know my services are free for you, right?” Vax says, slowly crawling towards Keyleth.

“Oh? They are?” She smirks. Keyleth hooks a finger under Vax’s chin and pulls him until he’s kneeling between her legs. “What kind of services are we talking about, then?”

“Oh, you know… All sorts of… services,” Vax teases feather-light touches over Keyleth’s shoulders, dragging down the thin straps of her nightgown. “Oops,” He smiles as the fabric falls down Keyleth’s torso and pools at her waist, exposing her breasts.

“I hope these ‘services’ are also exclusive for me,” Keyleth cocks an eyebrow, amused.

“Of course, love,” Vax murmurs, locking his mouth with the column of Keyleth’s neck. She twists her head to the side to allow him an easier access, which Vax gladly takes.

“I assume… you don’t have to… rush to work… this morning?” He asks, trailing kisses up her jaw between words.

“I took the day off. I felt like I had to compensate you for all the late hours,” Keyleth manages to say with a raspy breath. Vax smiles victoriously as he reaches her mouth.

“Well. We should make the most of this free time, then.”

Every day, Vax finds a different reason for why he loves Keyleth so much, and every day the woman finds a different way to show him just how much she loves him. Today she does it not only in the form of a somewhat lazy morning, spent with their naked bodies intertwined in bed, but also in the form of a nice, summer breeze coming in through the open window, cool enough to make the newly-added heat of their bodies more bearable for Vax.

#critical role #cr fic #cr fanfic #vox machina #vaxleth #keyleth #vax'ildan #prompted #september prompts #set during the one-year break #<- because this is my favorite timeline #domestic fluff for you all

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copperbadge · 10 months

Text

Well, the plan for NaClYoHo today was to go back into the storage locker, get out the plant pots that I'd stashed in there, and bring them in so that I could do some new planting. I had to kill off most of my plants when the gnats got into them, and the easiest way was simply to dump them, pots and all, into a trash bag and throw them out; none of the pots were very valuable, and I managed to save the plants I cared about by tossing the rest. The pots I'd put into storage about a year ago will be handy in rebuilding the garden.

But I'd been holding off on new planting because I wanted to be absolutely positive I was gnat-free and not giving them a new place to nest first, and this morning I caught a gnat in the kitchen. The rule I made was seven days with no live gnats buzzing around me and no dead ones in the traps I have out, so

[ID: An image of Idris Elba from Pacific Rim; he looks up dramatically as he says, in caption, "Reset the clock!"]

Fuckin' kaiju.

Anyway, one of the big decisions I made was to do away with one of the cat trees and replace it with a breakfast table (hence the stool shopping yesterday, I wanted a tall cafe table with a bar chair) and since I managed to get those purchased, I figured I'd dismantle the cat tree and move it out before the furniture arrived. It took a remarkably long time, so it's most of the work I'll be doing today, cleaning-wise.

[ID: A photo looking down into a large cardboard box; filling the box are several worn-out scratching posts and a handful of fabric-covered platforms from the disassembled cat tree.]

Polk came out to inspect the empty space where their tree used to be and complain loudly, but she wasn't using it and neither was Dearborn and it was shedding twine and catnip everywhere. I got them a new scratching post and they'll like putting their butts all over my breakfast table, it'll be fine.

I believe I did this last year, but if not I'm making it a tradition starting this year, that the last day in November is always reserved for setting up the Christmas tree and breaking out the decorations. I'm not a big Christmas guy and I don't have a lot of decor, but I like hanging ornaments on the tree, most of which have sentimental meaning, and it's a nice way to transition from November Busy Cleaning Hurry Month to Stay Inside With Blankets Because It's December.

There's still a bunch to do on my "Cleaning" list, but I got a lot done, so I'm giving myself a break and working on the rest over time. I hope you all have a good last few days and that you feel good about what you've accomplished!

#naclyoho #national clean your home month

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horseshoegirl · 1 year

Text

Damn Those Dog Tags - Part 5: Everybody Wants To Rule the World

📜I'm so sorry for being AWOL. Sitting for two days at a conference for strategic planning for the first time in 3-4 years is extremely exhausting. I swear, if someone utters those words any time in the next few months, I will lose it. Mental burnout is the culprit for the late delay, so I made this one slightly longer because of that. Hopefully, you enjoy this part!

Beware the warnings!

❗️18+, strong language, angst, talk about a death of a parent/sibling, talk about abusive family members/partner, talk of an abusive relationship, godmother reader/original female character, and sexual themes.

# 6k+ words

Part 4 | Masterlist | Part 6

“What do you want to eat on our hike, Bug?” you shouted down the hallway from your bedroom door.

You were attempting to multitask, coming up with ideas for lunch for your hike with Sadie while ripping through your closet for something to wear. Finding something you wouldn’t overheat in tomorrow was proving to be a challenge.

Her voice echoed from somewhere in the house. “Ham and Cheddar, please!”

“You don’t want to vary it up?”

For ages, Sadie had always asked for Ham and Cheddar sandwiches on hikes. No matter how often you offered to get her something else, she'd never change her mind. It didn’t surprise you went she offendedly called back, “No way, nothing beats ham!”

Then she begged, “Can we get sour keys, too? Please?”

You shook your head, “Only if you promise to eat an apple on the way there!”

You thought you heard a grumble before she finally called out, “Fine.”

Chuckling to yourself, you went back to pulling out hangers and glancing through your sweaters. Settling on a brown button-up, your mind shifted towards what Sadie could wear as you put everything you had lazily thrown on your bed back in your closet. You cursed when a cardigan came off its hanger, falling to the bottom of your closet and wedging itself between miscellaneous boxes and running shoes. Huffing out a breath, you bent down to pick it up, pulling at the red material to find the tag at the back. Then you saw it out of the corner of your eye.

The shoebox.

It was the one thing you could never put in the storage locker with the rest of her things but could never bring yourself to open.

The box was calling out to you, sticking out amongst every single thing littering the bottom of your closet. You were unable to move, your eyes tracing the red tape covering its edges, its mere presence fixing you to the floor.

You knew what it contained, but you could never bring yourself to open it. Even as your hand flexed forward, fingers unconsciously stretched out, causing your cardigan to fall again to the floor.

No, you couldn’t open it. Not yet.

“Come on, we need to pick up the basket from Aunt Penny’s!” Sadie’s voice echoed down your hallway.

You slammed your closet door without a second thought.

___

It wasn’t unusual to see the Daggers at Penny’s house. Pete often called on them to help with random tasks, whether it be repairs to her house, gardening, or even assisting in decorating. As soon as you parked, Sadie noticed Rooster’s Bronco in the driveway, shooting out of her seat and sprinting inside Penny’s open front door like she hadn't seen any of them in years.

You caught the tail end of Sadie's shout for Penny as you walked through the door, Penny's reply of 'In here' from her kitchen causing Sadie to backtrack out of her family room and down the hall.

You followed her, seeing Penny spin from her spot in the kitchen and affectionately call out, “Sadie Bug!” as Sadie wrapped her arms around her waist. Penny pressed a kiss to the top of her hair, the sight warming your heart.

A hammer thumped somewhere from outside in her backyard caught your attention. Peering out her back window, Phoenix was nailing a wooden beam into the floor of Penny’s back deck, Mav helping to hold them in place. You spied Bob and Coyote working on the garden beds next to it. Then your eyes caught Jake sitting on a bench, sanding down a piece of wood from the pile next to him.

“What are they doing?” you asked her.

“The railing on my deck collapsed a few months ago with the storm. Pete asked if they could help. Made it some team-building thing,” Penny shrugged.

Give it to that man to turn anything into a team-building exercise, you thought. Sadie let Penny go, eager to go look out the back window.

Spying the picnic basket on the table, you walked over to open the top, only to find a bag of sour keys tucked safely inside. You shot Penny an amused look, who simply shrugged and replied, “They’re her favourite.”

“Did you kick anyone else out yesterday?” you joked. “Any angry customers I have to watch out for?”

“I didn’t have the manpower. Coyote and Jake didn’t stick around for long after you left. I think Jake got lucky with that girl in the blue dress.”

So Jake picked up where he had left off and spent the night with that girl from the bar. Having Penny confirm your suspicions made you feel uneasy. You really didn’t have the right to feel upset about it. Who Jake decided to spend his nights with was his business. You knew his reputation the moment you met him. What did you say to him? He was a wham, bam, thank you, mam?

Clearly, whatever happened with the dart at the Hard Deck was a one-off.

Penny’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “You want to stay for lunch? I have enough food to feed the rest of Top Gun.”

Nodding, you picked up a few of the plates sitting next to the basket and brought them outside, Penny and Sadie following with napkins and utensils. You were about to ask what else she needed help with before you spied Rooster coming around the side of the house, a skinny piece of wood slung over his shoulder.

“Can you watch Sadie for a second?” you asked, never taking your eyes off him. “I got a bone to pick with Rooster.”

Penny’s eyes widened, looking down to Sadie. It was going to get ugly. There was no question.

“Come on,” She urged Sadie, wiggling her fingers as she reached out for her hand. “I’ve got sandwiches I need help making and could use a partner in crime.”

“You mean you don’t want me seeing my Aunt rat out my uncle for something.”

“That too.”

Jake was in the middle of sanding down a piece of wood when he heard your voice crack like a whip across Penny’s deck.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw!”

Rooster turned immediately, looking up to see you standing on Penny’s deck, hands on your hips, and an angry scowl etched across your face.

“Oh shit,” Bradley grimaced, the piece of wood dropping to the ground. The rest of the Daggers snickered and whistled in response as you loudly stomped down the steps.

Jake stood up and crossed his arms, a smug smile on his face as he watched Rooster panic. Bradley swivelled on his heel, looking for an escape route. Finding it in the path Penny had carved out to the beach, he booked it. He didn’t anticipate Jake blocking his path, even as he tried to go around him. Any way Rooster went, Jake followed, stopping him from leaving.

There was no way Rooster was going to escape whatever you had planned for him.

Hey,” you angrily called out. “I have a bone to pick with you!”

Rooster pleadingly looked to Jake, only for him to shake his head, glancing between you and Rooster.

“Don’t look at me,” Jake replied, still smug. “This is just getting good.”

“Asshole,” Rooster muttered, bowing his head in acceptance. Grabbing Bradley by his shoulders, Jake turned him, placing a hand between his shoulders to roughly push him out to greet you.

Jake attempted to shoot you a warm smile as you made your way over to the pair, but for the brief second you met his eye, you seemed set on ignoring him, even with Rooster at the end of your rath.

“Courtney Slack, are you out of your freaking mind?” you yelled, smacking Rooster upside the head, who winced. “Her daughter bullied the hell out of Sadie. How could you?!”

Rooster stepped to the side, holding his hands out as he started walking backwards. “Liz, she came on to me. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Turn on your heel! Walk away! Find Lyssa, I don’t know! But flirt with her?” you shouted.

Bradley figured staying silent was the best, risking him saying anything else that would make you upset enough that you’d threaten to revoke his Sadie privileges, not that you would.

“What was the rule?” you pointed your finger into his chest, “The one rule I gave for you to pick up Sadie from school.”

Bradley stretched his arm up, scratching the back of his head as harshly exhaled, “Don’t flirt with Courtney Slack.”

“Don’t flirt with Courtney Slack!” you repeated back, throwing your hands up.

“Even I know that Rooster,” Bob pipped up from his spot next to Penny’s flower beds.

“Not helping Bob!” He called over his shoulder.

“How could you, Rooster?!”

“Yeah,” Jake spoke from behind him. “How could you, Rooster?” “Stay out of this Hangman. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Uncle Roo!”

Sadie’s voice, not that you would admit, was a welcome relief. The minute Sadie said his name, everyone watched as she launched herself off the deck, sprinting toward Bradley with her arms outstretched. Bradley stepped away from you to reach for her, picking her up and spinning her in a circle as she laughed.

“Aunt Penny said I needed to come to save you,” she said, hugging his leg once he put her down. Bradley pressed a hand to his heart, dramatically leaning back as he shouted, “I’ve been saved!”

Pressing your head into your hand, you let out a loud groan. The rest of the Daggers laughed, returning to whatever they had been doing before you showed up.

Sadie smiled at your reaction, knowing Rooster would get off easy for whatever he was in trouble with now she was present. But then her eyes landed on Jake, who was smiling down at her fondly.

"Hangman!" She called out excitedly, much to the displeasure of Bradley, as she let go of his leg to stand in front of Jake.

"Hey, Bug! How's the math homework?"

"My tutor is still an idiot," she grinned up at him. "Only this time, I proved it! I corrected him!"

“Alright!” He exclaimed, giving her a high five. You couldn't deny he was good with her.

"Whatcha doing here?" he asked her.

"Picking up a picnic basket. We're going on a hike tomorrow."

"A hike. That sounds like fun."

"Why don't you come with us?"

Oh shit, there she goes again.

You could tell Rooster was gobsmacked. Nobody was invited on your hikes, not even himself or Natasha. Hearing Sadie’s invitation was just another indication that you ignored every warning the squad had given you. Sadie was just as willing to play along with you.

Sadie looked up at her uncle, “Are you having trouble crowing, Uncle Roo?”

“Sadie!”

“What? He looks as red as a Rooster!”

The last thing you needed was Jake Seresin interrupting what would have been a peaceful day, thinking of absolutely nothing. Certainly not the blonde pilot standing before you.

“I’m sure Jake’s busy, Bug," you offered for Jake, who was looking between you and Sadie somewhat judgingly.

“Why? He has no friends.”

You gawked at her. Her audacity never failed to surprise you. Shooting Sadie a look, you urged her to join you. She shuffled her way over, arms crossed and her face stern.

“Really?” you asked her.

You weren’t about to tell your ten-year-old niece Jake had plenty of friends to keep him company, especially at night. But she glared at you, placing her hands on her hips in a matter-of-fact way, before sarcastically replying, “Do you honestly think someone like him has real friends?”

“What about the Daggers?” you pressed her.

“Rooster hates him, Auntie Nat calls him Bagman, and the rest want to take the nearest thing and whack him over the head.”

“He’s friends with Coyote?”

“Uncle Javy is friends with everyone. That’s not the point.”

"Sadie, you just can't invite people at random to things this late notice."

"Please, Aunt Elizabeth."

Damn.

You could feel your resolve weakening. Rarely did she ever call you by your full name. You didn’t understand Sadie’s obsession with Jake, but when was the first time, besides befriending Will, did she feel this strongly about anyone? She really knew how to pick them.

You sighed, casting your eyes down to a piece of wood resting against Penny's new railing before meeting Jake's eyes.

“Wanna tag along?” you asked reservedly. “I promise I won’t hold it against you if you say no.”

Jake was still glancing between you and Sadie. He didn’t know what he did to make you act so cold towards him. Maybe you didn’t want him intruding on your time with Sadie.

But Sadie’s face was so hopeful, and he still wanted to question you on why you were so upset last night.

The look on Rooster's face alone was enough too.

“Why not? I’m not busy.”

___

You assumed Jake wasn’t serious about joining you on the hike, even after exchanging numbers and him texting his address.

But at breakfast, you were surprised he texted, asking you to let him know when you were on your way. The surprise only lasted so long. The logical part of your mind going it made sense he’d want to know. Your heart, however, wondered who he was shoving out of his bed before you arrived.

With Sadie bundled into your car in her red jacket, you drove to Jake’s apartment, pulling into the roundabout and sending him a text to let him know you were there. Sure enough, a few seconds later, he emerged from the building with a black hiking backpack. Sadie rolled down her window, sticking her head out the window as she shouted out his name and waved.

Jake hopped in your car, uttering a greeting as he pulled his Ray-Bans off his face, turning to face you holding up a thermos with a smile. Coyote wasn't kidding when he said Jake wasn't a morning person.

“Coffee?” you asked. “Javy said you liked it black.”

Jake made an appreciative sound, reaching out with grabby hands and uttering a thank you as he took the first few sips. So far, so good, you thought as you pulled out of his apartment building and onto the highway.

While Jake loved music, he certainly couldn’t carry a tune to save his life. Sadie tried to hold in her giggles and keep her comments to herself as Jake belted out whatever was playing on the radio. You shook your head as you drove, window rolled down to feel the wind caress your face.

The hiking trail was only an hour and a half away, and after parking, you were eager to stretch your legs. Jake got out first, waiting for you to open your trunk and then unloading your picnic supplies. Of course, he went for the heaviest item, the picnic basket, but you slapped his hand, grabbing it before he could grasp the handle.

"No way, you're the guest," you had told him. He protested but quieted down when you allowed him to carry the blanket.

The three of you started on the trail, Sadie running ahead of you to peer up into trees and looking at the flower bushes while holding onto her camera.

“What’s with the polaroid camera?” Jake asked, watching as Sadie crouched down next to a bush, angling her camera at what you thought was a caterpillar.

“She loves bugs.” You shrugged as you walked. “She has this book where she puts all her polaroids and tries to identify them.”

"Do I sense somebody is a nerd?"

“So what? Everyone is obsessed with something."

"You're totally a nerd."

" There's no shame in being passionate about something, Jake," you sighed, swapping the basket into your other hand. "I could say the same about you and flying. You practically make it your personality."

Jake stopped in his tracks. "You did not just call me a nerd?!"

You laughed. "It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Hangman!”

Not bothering to look back to see if he was following you, you continued forward, watching Sadie pull back bushes and grab low-hanging branches as she searched for her next photograph. Then she stopped in the middle of the path, audibly sighing as she stared up a tree.

“Bug?” You questioned.

“There’s a cool butterfly I haven’t seen before on that branch.” She pouted. “And I’m too short.”

You were about to ask if she wanted you to take the photo before Jake suddenly surpassed you, stepping up next to her while trying to follow her line of sight. He lowered himself to the ground beside Sadie, resting on his heels.

“Where is it?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. Sadie pointed with her finger. Sure enough, a blue butterfly was sitting on a leaf just out of reach of her and her camera.

“Do you trust me?” He asked her. She peered up at him with questionable eyes before nodding. As Jake stood, he hooked his hands under her armpits, hoisting her up and over his head. Sadie giggled as she flew in the air, coming to rest on his shoulders.

You could feel your heart jump out of your chest, watching Jake carefully step around stuck-out tree roots and sharp rocks, navigating himself closer to the butterfly so Sadie could reach up and take a photograph. When she grabbed the photo from her camera, she held it out for Jake, who took it to shake.

Sadie stayed on Jake’s shoulders for the rest of the morning. You hung back, watching the two interact. Sadie would point out bugs, and Jake would ask her questions about each and every one. Or she’d ask him about his accent, and he’d tell her about the ranch he grew up at. Coming to the spot you wanted to set up lunch, a grassy spot on a hill overlooking the valley, Jake and Sadie helped you set up the food. Jake unrolled the blanket dramatically, and Sadie dug around in the basket before triumphally holding the bag of Sour Keys in the air.

"Oh, give me those," Jake called out, making a show of faking an attempt at stealing them out of her hand. Sadie squealed, throwing her hand back and shouting. "No way!"

While you laughed at the two of them, you were suddenly struck with the idea there was a chance this may be the last time you could take Sadie on a hike. Even as the three of you ate, your mind raced with the worry something as small as an error in the paperwork for Sadie's guardianship could threaten to take away more moments like these.

When Sadie wiped her hands on the blanket after finishing her sandwich, scrambled to grab her camera and stood up, proclaiming she was going off to search for bugs, and you warned her not to get too close to the edge of the shoreline below, you fought to keep the worry from your voice.

She saluted you before turning on her heel, giggling while racing down the path to a grassy spot. You didn't laugh like you normally would.

All of this didn't go unnoticed by Jake, who finally decided he needed to let you know he knew, just by how much you were forcing yourself to smile.

“Liz, what’s going on?”

He caught the tiny downward twitch of your mouth as you faced him. He was sure you didn’t even know you were consciously doing it, even as you managed to ask, “What do you mean?”

“Coyote spoke with Penny. I know about the review.”

You swallowed hard, dropping your head.

“Tell me.” He encouraged.

“I’m not sure what it means. It sounds like it’s just reviewing the paperwork. But it’s not an internal review. Somebody requested it on the outside, and they cannot tell me who.”

“Do you have any idea? Any at all?”

“No,” you started to say, pressing your forehead to the back of your knee. “There’s nobody around to care about something like that.”

“What about Sadie’s father?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. Tyler was the one person you refused to speak about when you could. He was the person who shall not be named. The person who still, to this day, haunted your dreams with the threat he could still take Sadie away from you. The Daggers knew enough, but not the full story. They just assumed Sadie’s birth father was an absent asshole.

Sensing your hesitancy, Jake quickly doubled back. “You don’t have to..”

“No, um, it’s okay,” you interrupted him, lifting your head and taking a deep breath. The words still felt difficult despite having told the full story once before, only to Penny. It was one that always left you more exposed to the world than you felt comfortable, even knowing you had nothing to be ashamed about.

But Jake? Telling him about that period in your life, you didn't know if you were about to self-sabotage what little friendship you built with him or let him know exactly what he was getting himself into.

“Ah, Ridley got pregnant in her twenties. She had been seeing this guy while in nursing school. Same school as her and all that. There on some sports scholarship.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look Jake in the eye as you recited the story. “I never approved of him, but she was my sister. She was so stuck in her ways. Then, one day, she came home with bruises, and I knew the fucker hurt her.”

The image of Ridley clutching her side in the front hallway of the house you both had rented close to her school came to mind, finding yourself stroking your wrist with your fingertips. She had come home late one night with a bruise around her wrist, eyes dry and rimmed red, as she struggled to even utter a single word to you without bursting into tears.

“A friend and I got her out of the relationship pretty quickly after that, but then she discovered she was pregnant," you sniffed. “I was there the night he found out, the asshole. Called her a bitch for tying him down and slammed the front door without another word. We never saw him since.. and she was terrified to do it on her own, but god, she wanted Sadie so badly.”

Jake’s voice was solemn as he asked, “What about your parents?”

You played with the hem on the sleeve of your jacket. “We left home when our Mum died. My father… Well, it’s not a pleasant story.”

Jake thought back to the night in your kitchen when he hesitated to tell you the story behind his call sign. Then your words echoed in his head.

“I’m not here to judge. Truly.”

He caught one side of your mouth turning upwards, eyes fixing on Sadie below. You finally managed to say, “Well, to state it plainly, he was… is a narcissist.”

There was no stopping you now. Just like the time you told Penny, once you started, the relief in telling another person was too great to ignore.

“We were never perfect enough, didn’t try hard enough. Any chance he got, whether it be a birthday party or a dinner or a vacation, he’d try to ruin it. Mom wasted away, thinking it was her fault when he was just gaslighting the three of us every chance he got."

You shook your head hard at your words.

“Last we managed to find out, he was back in his hometown. Shacking up with one of the women he cheated on her with.”

You smiled down at Sadie, watching her pull back a few stones in some of the wetter areas to see underneath.

“They don’t know Sadie exists,” your voice broke, the strength to hold back your tears becoming too much. “We swore Sadie would never have to face that trauma, face them, not as long as either of us could prevent it.”

Jake felt you startle when he touched your back, slowly rubbing up and down to soothe your tears. It silenced you, the warm and unexpected comfort nearly making you crumble harder.

Coyote’s words to Jake in the car suddenly made sense, though he wouldn’t necessarily use the word ‘fragile’ to describe you.

You were powerful, not because you feared what was to come, but because you went about things so strongly and kindly, despite having gone through so much. As much as he envied you at that moment, he knew he’d do whatever he could to help you keep your promise no harm would come to Sadie.

“Sorry,” you laughed sadly, reaching up to wipe at your face. “This probably isn’t how you imagined your Sunday turning out.”

Where you thought Jake would have told you to suck it up, that it was in the past or you needed to let it go, he didn’t. Instead, he continued to rub your back, letting you compose yourself before quietly uttering, “I’m glad you told me.”

Needing to clear the knot in your throat at his reply, you reached for your water absent-mindedly. The minute you grasped the bottle, you felt something cool and scaly graze your hand.

A scream clawed through your chest as you shot your hand back, scrambling backwards to escape, unexpectedly crashing into the side of Jake’s chest in a panic. Jake fell with a grunt, his arm that was already stretched out, pulling you to the ground with him in reflex. It made it so much worse, his arms holding you in place, trapping you in the path of one of your worst fears.

Jake rolled the two of you off the blanket, trapping you underneath him as he called out your name. It did nothing to calm your horror, squirming in his hold as you managed to gasp out, “Sn..snake! There’s a snake.”

Jake turned his head, spying on the cause of your fear, uncoiling itself from your water bottle. It looked like a common garden snake, interested in the condensation from your bottle. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t encountered in the hay bales growing up on the ranch. Sure in his decision to reach out and pick up the hissing creature just below its head, he tossed it far enough in the opposite direction it wouldn’t be a bother again.

Covering your face with your hands, your chest racked with sobs as you fought against your flight response. Eyes slammed shut, you thrashed back and forth against the ground. Even as Jake tried to calm you down, your mind still perceived the danger was still there, your emotions from before making it all that much worse.

“Liz, it’s gone,” he gently pulled your hands away from your face, placing them on either side of your head, holding them down into the grass. You whimpered, feeling exposed.

“Easy, Darlin,” Jake drawled. “I got you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Jake’s hand on your cheek, his thumb gently wiping at the tears pooling under your eyes. You froze, eyes opening at his touch, greeted by the sight of him staring down at you with concern.

“Is it gone?” you asked meekly. Holding your face, his thumb gently tracing your cheekbone, Jake softly replied, “It’s gone.”

Nodding once, you blew out a breath, finally allowing yourself to relax somewhat. Jake still held the side of your face in the palm of his hand, and you found yourself leaning slightly into it.

You watched as he grinned down at you. His dimples were infectious as the heat rushed to your checks in embarrassment. Then he jolted, once, and then twice.

Jake was restraining himself not to laugh, shoulders shaking and corners of his mouth turning upwards. You bit your bottom lip to stop your smile, failing miserably to control your face as Jake finally allowed himself to laugh.

The whole thing was ridiculous. The thought of you freaking out over a silly snake and Jake having witnessed your freak-out was humiliating enough. But you knew he wasn’t laughing at you. He was laughing with you, your giggles matching his own as the pair of you lost it.

But as soon as the laughter died down, Jake was more than an inch and a half away from your mouth. His eyes were flickering over your face, searching, until they softly settled on your lips.

You could feel his breath warming your face, his body resting heavily against yours. Every time you took a breath to calm your remaining nerves, you could feel his chest, hard and sculpted, grazing against your breasts every time you heaved.

This thing happening between the two of you had no label. You knew nothing about him beyond what he told you and what Nat and Rooster had claimed.

Could you even classify Jake as a friend? Not since you’ve spent a better part of yesterday morning shopping for groceries listing all the reasons why Jake was bad news. Why he was unavailable. Why is he bad for you. Why he might have slept with the bartenders before you.

But then, Jake was leaning down, eyelids heavy the closer he got to you, hand moving from your cheek to cradle the back of your neck. And you, tilting your chin up slowly, anticipating the moment his lips might finally meet yours. No hard deck bell, no Daggers, no voices in your head.

Jake was going to kiss you. And you weren’t going to stop him.

“Aunt Liz!”

Wide-eyed, you quickly unrolled yourself out from under Jake, who pushed himself off you after hearing Sadie’s voice. You sat up just in time to see her sprinting up the hill, scared and stopping in her tracks to find the both of you. She picked herself back up into a run, arms stretching out the closer she got to you.

Collapsing into your lap, she threw her face into your shoulder. Her arms wrapped themselves around your body as she shook. You tried to shush her, running your hand up and down her back as she worked through her blubbering mess of ‘are you okay’ and ‘what happened.’

“It’s okay, Bug.” You spoke, holding her tight.

“I heard you scream!” She gasped, shaking like a leaf and struggling to breathe.

“We’re okay. It was just a snake,” you pulled back to place your hands on her cheeks, smiling softly at her. She scanned your face to find any indication that you were hurt or something was wrong.

“A snake?” She sniffed, using her sleeve to wipe at her face. “Is it gone?”

“Yes,” you nodded, turning to Jake. “I have my knight in shining armour to thank for that.”

Sadie followed your glaze, scrambling out of your hold to throw her arms around Jake’s neck. “Thank you for protecting my aunt,” she said as she tugged him closer.

Jake’s face was a mess of emotions. Shock? Acceptance? Worry? You weren’t sure. But nothing could beat the ache in your heart when his arms slowly came up to return her hug lightly, his head dropping to her shoulder as he faintly managed to say, “Of course, Bug.”

___

On your journey back to the car, Jake’s hand occasionally brushed against yours as you walked side by side in silence.

That was until Sadie shouted out, “Wait!” as you walked past an overlook to the mountains. She shoved her polaroid at you before standing next to one of the safer flatter rocks overlooking the valley, slowly climbing up to sit on it. She hugged her knees, turned her head to view the scenery, then shouted, “Take my picture!”

You shook your head, laughing while placing the basket on the ground. Jake’s face lit up in confusion as he stared at her sitting on the rock.

“Pride & Prejudice.”

“What?” he asked, turning to look at you as you started to position yourself behind Sadie.

“Ridley’s favourite movie. Ever since Sadie saw it, she’s been obsessed with the shots of Kierra Knightly standing on the cliffs.”

You lifted the camera up to your face before snapping the photo, pulling it away to grab the picture to shake it. Sadie climbed down, reaching for the printout with a beaming grin, only to pocket it with the others in her jacket and eagerly take off back to the trail.

Shaking your head, you reached down to grab the basket but found nothing as you grasped at air. Jake had beaten you to it, the basket now firmly being held in his hand. He shrugged as you glared at him.

Jake helped you pack the car back up when the three of you finally found your way back, getting Sadie's door and shutting it carefully behind her. He did the same with you, and as you climbed back into your car, suddenly, you realized you didn't want the day to end just yet.

“Hey,” you said softly, getting his attention once he had settled into his seat. “You have time for one more stop?”

___

Jake had no idea where you were taking him when you pulled off the main road and up a curvy hill into a densely wooded area, the road rough like it hadn’t been paved in years. He had to trust you knew where you were going, but it wasn’t until he reached for the ‘holy shit’ bar above the passenger side window he decided he wanted to be put out of his misery.

“Where are you taking me?”

You smirked gleefully, refusing to spoil the surprise. “I’m not going to murder you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Liz..”

“You’ll see.”

Jake rolled his eyes. But the minute he saw the sign on the side of the road, he suddenly felt humbled.

Stitches & Murray Thrift Store looked like a misplaced cabin that didn’t belong on the side of some random highway. White paint was peeling off the walls, strung lights had a few missing bulbs, some shrubs were overgrown, and there was a tree so desperately bare it needed to be removed. In lesser words, it should have been dead centre in the middle of some forgotten woods.

Sadie had taken off inside the minute you had given her the all-clear, whereas you took your time walking next to Jake, who held the door open as you reached the entrance, resulting in a bush spreading across your cheeks.

Whatever it looked like on the outside, the inside couldn’t compare, Jake thought. The place shouldn’t have been called a thrift store, with walnut-coloured floors and red paint on the walls, racks of interesting-looking jackets with the price tags still on them and creates of music lining a table. He thought he spied some first additions on the floor-to-ground bookcases spanning the entire wall. Even some Navy memorabilia was encased on the back wall.

He understood why you liked it here.

“So, this is the place.”

He watched as you lowered yourself down next to an old wooden crate of vinyl, pulling back the sleeves gently, your eyes lighting up when you came across certain ones.

“Ridley and I’s accidental discovery," You said absently mindedly as you flipped a case over to read the back. Putting it back, you went to stand up but lost your balance, Jake holding out his hand as you reached for something, if anything, to pull yourself up.

You shrugged almost shamefully once you found your balance, Jake still holding your hand longer than you could have deemed necessary. “They have the best vinyl here.”

“I ain’t complaining, darling,” he said, slowly letting your hand slide from his.

Jake followed closely behind as you wandered around, watching as your hand reached out to glide over the shoulders of brand-new coats on hangers, how you almost climbed a bookcase to look at a higher shelf, how your eyes looked for Sadie every two minutes.

You picked up an older pair of chromatic aviator ray bans, adjusting them on your nose before facing Jake, attempting a cocky grin and pulling your best impression of a Texian accent.

“Hangman, best there is, don’t let my ego fool you. I’m only here to show you a good time.”

Jake shook his head, both unimpressed by your antics and slightly amused at your attempt. “I’m the best, Darlin. Don’t you forget it.”

“What did you say to me before? You need to put your money where your mouth is?”

Jake smirked, stepping forward, intent on reaching for those sunglasses before a voice interrupted him.

“I’ll be damned, is that Ms. Lizzie Beck?”

Hearing your name being called, Jake watched as you pulled the glasses away, quickly whipping around to greet an older man with a wide smile.

“Hi, Mr. Murray!”

The older man approached you with a toothy grin, holding out his arms as he went to hug you. You went willingly, happy to see him.

“How are things? How’s Margret?” you asked, returning the hug.

“Keeping me on my toes, that darn witch.” You pulled back to smile at him, patting his arm before taking a step back.

“We heard about your sister. I’m so sorry, my dear. Such a way to go in a storm like that.”

Jake saw you grip your forearm at his statement, nails digging into the fabric of your coat, body curling forwards just a bit as you nodded at him.

Sensing your discomfort, Jake quickly stepped up next to you, an arm wrapping itself around your waist as he pulled you into his side from behind. You stiffened but forced yourself to relax when you realized what he was trying to do.

Mr. Murray’s eyes fell on Jake, then back to you. You knew exactly what he thought when he saw Jake’s arm around your waist. Jake was drawing the attention away from Ridley and onto himself.

“Now, who is this handsome fella?”

“Mr. Murray, meet Lieutenant Jake Seresin. He’s a naval aviator stationed at Top Gun. Jake, Mr. Murry owns the shop with his wife.”

Mr. Murray held out his hand, Jake grasping it as the older gentleman solemnly stated, “Thank you for your service, son.”

Sadie was nearby listening to the conversation, spying Jake's tense nod with his arm around your waist as she looked at a panel of jean jacket patches on a stand. She was happy you gave in to her request of Jake joining the two of you, even if it appeared her uncle seemed against it.

Jake liked you. It was obvious to her the second he saved you from that snake. And she thought you liked him, though yesterday morning proved you’d need a little more convincing than she originally thought.

She just wondered why everyone got sad when someone thanked her aunt and uncles when they mentioned they were in the Navy.

_____

Despite your conflicting feelings, Sadie’s instance of Jake suddenly being involved in things was playing on your mind as you drove home.

Dropping Jake off at home had been a quiet affair, you pulling into the roundabout in front of his building, he getting out to say goodbye at your rolled-down window.

“I had a good time,” He offered.

Stretching your arm across the edge of your open car window and resting your head back on the seat, you softly smiled, replying, “I’m glad. Sadie’s persistent.”

He looked behind your seat, Sadie passed out with her head against the window before resting his hand on your wrist, squeezing it lightly. “Thank you for telling me. And for letting me come.”

You frowned. Did you really come off as that mean to Jake yesterday morning if he had to thank you for letting him come?

“I know I’m an asshole, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

"Jake.."

He knew what you were going to say by the tone of your voice, yet he interrupted you, shaking his head. "Let me say the right thing for once."

You nodded. Squeezing your arm one last time, Jake retreated to the door of his apartment building, head down, and his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey Jake,” you called out, watching as he turned around, a hopeful look on his face. “I hope you come next Saturday night.”

He softly smiled. “Where else would I go on a Saturday night?”

The minute you arrived home, Sadie eagerly waited for the moment she could collapse into her bed, using every chance she got to yawn dramatically or drop her head to the kitchen table as if she would fall asleep again. After a quiet dinner, you tucked her in but found yourself pausing at her bedroom door before you decided to call it a night.

“Hey, Bug?” You asked softly.

“Yeah,” she sleepily replied, her back facing you. You pressed into the door frame, your voice low as you asked, “Why do you like Jake so much?”

At first, you thought she didn’t hear you. But then she lifted her blanket and turned to face you, softly calling out, “They left him out.”

“Who did, Sweetheart?”

“Auntie Nat and Uncle Roo. I heard them at the campfire while you were washing dishes.”

You sucked in a sharp breath. She continued, “They don’t want him near me or you. They said he is a bad person. That he will hurt us.” She pulled the blanket closer to her chest, her voice muffled as she said, “I don’t think he’s a bad person.”

“I don’t think so either, Bug. I think he’s just a complicated one.”

“He deserves a chance, right? To know he has people that care. Like how everyone was there for us?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, trying to keep your voice from breaking. It wasn’t Sadie speaking to you at that moment. It might have been her voice, but those were your sister’s words.

“He does, Bug.”

Sadie snuggled deeper into her pillow at your reply, tugging her blanket under her chin as she yawned. “Thank you for telling me, Bug,” you said quietly. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Aunt Liz.”

Closing her bedroom door, you pressed your forehead into the wood. Ridley always believed everyone deserved a chance. It was the reason why she wanted to become a nurse.

It was what she taught you as an older sister. It’s what she clearly taught Sadie as a mother.

Hearing those words come from Sadie, it felt like Ridley was there standing with you. Helping people was just who she was. Jake was a complicated person, but he did deserve a chance. As conflicted as your heart was about letting him into your life and Sadie’s, you couldn’t refute that.

After finishing your nightly routine, you went to plug in your phone while climbing into bed, noticing a text notification from Jake. Seeing his message, you couldn’t stop the giddiness from building in your chest.

Attached was a photo of Sadie sitting on the cliffside in her red jacket. He must have taken it while you snapped a photo with the polaroid. Yet, while the photo was the reason behind your smile, it wasn’t responsible for the feeling in your chest.

No, it was his accompanying message. Even if he looked it up, he wouldn’t have understood. The reference was far too specific for him not to have not seen the movie. So that night, you fell asleep knowing a little bit more about Jake Seresin than you did yesterday.

The caption?

Sadie on the top of the world.

For those of you who haven’t seen the film with Kierra Knightly, there is a scene where she is standing on a cliffside and a score called Liz on Top of the World plays.

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