#and I’m like ‘hey that’s cool!’ but also

[23victoria]

“can you watch my boyfriend for a sec?” ❁

f1 grid x fem!reader

summary: TikTok trend with the grid!!

authors note: saw the carlos one and knew i had to write about it!! his reaction made me laugh!! i also just saw mclaren do it to oscar!! i hope the other teams do it to their drivers as well!! also first time writing for seb, jenson, and daniel, i had the time so i said why not?!any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

Lewis

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to grab something from the car."

You head out, leaving Lewis alone in front of your phone's camera. He looks around, slightly bewildered.

"What? Y/N who’s on the phone? Uh, hey there. I guess I'm being watched. So... how's everyone doing? Good? Cool. Uh, any Mercedes fans here?" He starts talking about his day and how Roscoe is doing, trying to entertain the 'audience'. "Alright, she'll be back any minute now... right?"

Max

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to take out the trash."

Max raises an eyebrow as you walk away. He looks at the phone, unsure of what to say.

"Huh? Um, okay. This is weird. Hi, everyone….I guess…..Y/N what is this?! Who’s on the phone? So…what do we do now? Should I... talk about racing? Or... maybe I could just sit here…?" He awkwardly shuffles in his seat, checking his watch. "How long does it take to throw out the trash? Y/N come back! I don’t know what to say or do!"

Lando

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to get a drink from the kitchen."

Lando grins as you walk away, immediately knowing the TikTok trend. He leans in closer to the camera.

"Hey, TikTok! I was wondering when Y/N was going to do this trend on me! What have you guys been up to? Should I prank her back? Give me some ideas in the comments!" He starts to look around, trying to find something to do. "Should I play some games on my computer or maybe I'll hide and jump out when she gets back?"

Oscar

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to get my food."

Oscar blinks, looking at the phone and then at the door you just walked towards. He frowns slightly.

"Huh? What….okay? Uh, hi? I guess you guys are going to watch me eat my breakfast…Not sure what I'm supposed to do here. Should I be saying something interesting?" He scratches his head, and moves his food around, clearly uncomfortable. "So, did you guys have breakfast yet? I hope you did, breakfast is important….uhhh yea. Y/N!! Babe!! Come back!! I don’t know what to do!!"

Charles

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to take a call."

Charles watches you leave, then looks at the phone, confused but trying to be polite.

"Uh? Wait what? Hello, everyone. I guess your...on watch duty?" He laughs nervously. "This feels strange. Maybe I should sing a song? Or talk about Ferrari? Oh, I know, I'll play some music on my piano!" He moves towards the piano, but then hesitates. "Wait, how long is this call going to be? Y/N! Baby!!"

Carlos

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to make a smoothie."

Carlos looks at the camera, then at the direction you went, raising an eyebrow.

“What is this? Hello? Anyone there? Who were you talking to? Y/N?! Uhhhh hi… Wait, a smoothie? Bebe make me one too please! Okay, hi everyone. This is Carlos, just here... being watched?" He starts looking around, picking up random items on the table. "So, let me show you my favorite things on this table. This is a cool pen, and this is... a coaster. Fascinating, right?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "This is so weird. How long does making a smoothie take anyway?"

Sebastian

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to water the plants."

Sebastian gives you a puzzled look as you leave and then turns to the camera, smiling politely.

"What?! Y/N what is this? Hello? Hello? Anywhere there? I’m confused… Y/N!! Who were you talking too? Honey? … Um, hello everyone… I guess I'm under surveillance now." He chuckles. "So, while she's watering the plants, let's talk about... sustainability! Did you know you can make your own compost at home? It's really simple and great for your garden." He starts explaining the process, gesturing enthusiastically. "I hope she comes back soon because I might run out of eco-friendly tips! Oh wait!! I know! Let me show you my bees!!"

Jenson

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to grab the mail."

Jenson watches you leave with a bemused smile, then looks at the phone.

"Ummm what?! Babe? Y/N? Hello? Uhhh..hey there. So, I guess I need to be watched for a minute. You guys are in babysitting duty? Let’s see... what can I do to entertain you?" He glances around and spots his dogs. "Hey, meet my dogs! Come here babies!." He tries to get their attention but Bentley and Rouge ignore him, while Storm walks up to him, just to sit and stare at him. "Well, that didn’t go as planned. I guess they’re tired from playing this morning. Oh well, maybe next time! Isn’t that right Storm." he says putting down the camera.

Daniel

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to fix something in the bathroom."

Daniel immediately grins and laughs as you walk away, sensing a prank.

“Huh? Babe? What? Oh wait! It’s that TikTok trend!! Alright, what’s up TikTok, what's going on? He starts making funny faces at the camera and then leans in closer. "I have no idea what to talk about. This is so stupid and awkward.” He says bursting out laughing. He keeps glancing towards the bathroom, barely containing his laughter. "Babe come back!!"

© 23victoria 2024 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate, or claim my work as your own.

[reysdriver]

Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️

-🩷

You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!

Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected. 

He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl. 

“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking. 

The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you. 

“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him. 

“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”

You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign. 

Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”

You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke. 

“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”

He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better. 

“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”

Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again. 

“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you. 

“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”

Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made. 

“Absolutely not.” You replied. 

“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”

He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip. 

“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”

“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”

Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.

“Ask me again in a year.”

His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love. 

“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”

Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen. 

Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms. 

“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”

You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”

It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky. 

“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”

“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room. 

Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you. 

“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged. 

“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”

Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed. 

Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse. 

El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun. 

Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police. 

“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively. 

“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”

He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”

“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled. 

The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it. 

“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”

You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.

Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything. 

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father. 

“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said. 

He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all. 

Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.

You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours. 

The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.

[kinardsevan]

I figured it out. Why hearing that Tommy is a plot device/temporary is so infuriating. It’s the equivalent of being told “it’s just a phase”. As in, Buck just needs a phase to “figure out” being bisexual so then he can guide Eddie through it??? That logic is fucked on so many levels.

Evan Buckley is a grown ass man. He may be figuring out what he likes coming from another man vs a female in a committed relationship, but it’s not like he’s NEVER kissed or had sex with someone before.

Also, I’ve put off saying this, but I think (one of) the things that bothers me most about the possibility of Buddie on any level is that you have to trust in the whole “I fall for my best friend and they fall back at the same time” trope. That shit is not only rare, it’s painful. And given that 911 tends to go for realism (on some level) versus the fantasy when it comes to building relationships, you can’t tell me that Buddie would get it easy. But there’s an entire class of people who think this is the hard part, and one day Eddie is just gonna wake up and realize now that Buck is canonically bisexual. But like… that’s not very realistic? Also, the point Ryan keeps making about Eddie being heterosexual. And also, I genuinely believe that given the original plans for Tommy’s arc, that when Ryan said no, that was their chance.

Hear me out:

Buck would’ve been far easier to flip on a whim of “I’m into my best friend” after Eddie having a moment with Tommy. The ground work is already there, with previous situations (TK, etc). Eddie on the other hand, has so many other issues to contend with (Shannon, Christopher, his faith) that without someone basically shoving him in that direction, it really doesn’t fit.

To which brings my point: I feel like there was probably a conversation (at the very least, if not more than one) had at some point before the season started, and knowing the ideas Tim had on the table, there was an engagement of “this is the direction we want to move in, how do you feel about it?” Because truth be told, you can’t force someone six years into their contract to suddenly make changes they’re not cool with. and again, I feel like when that possibility was broached, and Ryan said no but Oliver said yes, this was the result.

Ryan does not want to play a queer character. Oliver doesn’t have a problem with doing so, nor does Lou. (And all of that is OKAY). But to that end, Ryan literally cannot be forced to do so if he does not want to. (I imagine there are probably bylaws via SAG/AFTRA that ensure this under some level of sexual harrassment, etc). And again, it’s one thing for an actor to read fanfiction about their character, even send it to their scene partner and be like “hey look at this”. But that doesn’t equate to them being like “okay yeah, the fans want it so we should do it”. Case in point? Go look at the entire Marvey fandom in Suits. I personally have a retweeted twt from Aaron Korsh like 6/7/8 years ago which I commented on the two of them kissing. Guess what? It never happened. And AK and Co were well aware of the side of the fandom that wanted those two together.

I don’t know what happens with Lou and Tommy from here on out obvs. They’re certainly teeing up some options, though we don’t have any clear answers due to just entering hiatus last week. But even if he’s gone in s8, that will never ensure that Buddie happens, and I’m not even trying to be mean about that. It’s just fact.

[deerlino]

Hiya, I adore your fics, they are so amazing and sweet! ❤️‍🩹 Could I request a fic?? Could you do producer! F! Reader x han? Like they're in a secret relationship and they get caught?? 😂 Could you please make it slightly cracky but also extremely fluffy??

caught in the mix.

han jisung x fem!reader / you and jisung are both producers at the same company, secretly dating. but your cover gets blown, and everyone finds out about your relationship.

additional tags / producer!jisung x producer!reader, (domestic) fluff, secret relationship, getting caught, canon compliant, workplace romance, established relationship, humor, crack, teasing & banter — 773 words in total.

content warnings / mild swearing, kissing (soft kisses, kisses on the neck, some intense moments of kissing)

authors note @ 15092000volcano / this was super cute to write! <3 i haven't done many jisung fics, so i was really excited to get this request. 😋 plus, i’m obsessed with the producer trope right now, so it was the perfect way to spend my sunday evening. thanks, anon, for the sweet request and the kind words about my work—it means a lot! hope you love the fic! 💓

You’re in a dimly lit recording studio, hidden away from the prying eyes of the world. The place is familiar, almost like a second home, except for one crucial detail: this is where you and Jisung have been sneaking off to. You glance over at him as he tinkers with the mixing board, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the computer screen. He catches your eye and shoots you a quick wink, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Hey, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “Pass me the headphones?”

You slide them over, your fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you wonder how long you can keep this secret from the rest of the team. It’s not that you want to hide your relationship, but you know how chaotic things can get with everyone involved.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and Chan strides in, his usual confident swagger in place. He freezes mid-step when he sees you and Jisung huddled together.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

You both jump apart like you’ve been electrocuted, and Jisung clears his throat awkwardly. “Nope, just, uh, working on a new track.”

Chan’s eyes narrow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Right. Working. Sure.” He gives you a pointed look before sauntering out, leaving you both in a flustered silence.

“Well, that was close,” you mutter, trying to steady your racing heart.

Jisung chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry, babe. We just need to be more careful.”

The next day, you’re in the kitchen, trying to make coffee without waking up the whole house. Jisung sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You lean into his touch, a content sigh escaping your lips.

“Morning,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“Morning,” you reply, turning to kiss him properly.

Just as your lips meet, the door swings open again. This time, it’s Felix, his hair a mess and his eyes half-closed. He stops dead in his tracks, blinking rapidly as if he’s not sure he’s really seeing this.

“Oh my God,” Felix says, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Are you two...?”

You and Jisung spring apart again, but it’s too late. Felix is already grinning like the Cheshire cat. “This is gold. I can’t wait to tell the others.”

“Felix, no!” you plead, but he’s already out the door, cackling.

Later, you’re sitting in the living room, pretending to watch TV, but your mind is elsewhere. Jisung is next to you, his hand discreetly resting on your thigh. You’re trying to act natural when Seungmin strolls in, phone in hand.

He takes one look at you two and snorts. “You guys are terrible at hiding this, you know?”

Jisung tries to play it cool. “Hiding what?”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Please, I’ve seen more subtlety in a sledgehammer. Just be glad it’s me and not someone with a camera.”

Your face heats up, and you bury it in Jisung’s shoulder, mumbling something about how you’re trying your best. Jisung just laughs, pulling you closer.

As the day goes on, you and Jisung keep getting caught. Jeongin walks in on you sharing a secret kiss in the hallway and immediately turns on his heel, muttering about how he didn’t need to see that. Hyunjin catches you holding hands under the table and just smirks, giving you a knowing look. Even Minho, who’s usually oblivious to everything, notices the way you and Jisung look at each other and shakes his head with a sigh.

Finally, the inevitable happens. You’re in the studio again, thinking you’re safe. Jisung has you pressed against the wall, his lips on yours, when the door flies open. This time, it’s everyone—all of them, standing there with various expressions of shock, amusement, and exasperation.

“Seriously?” Chan groans, rubbing his temples. “Can you two not keep it in your pants for one minute?”

Felix is laughing so hard he’s doubled over, while Hyunjin and Jeongin exchange high-fives. Seungmin just looks resigned, and Minho’s smirk is wider than ever.

You and Jisung separate, both of you blushing furiously. “Well,” you say, trying to salvage some dignity. “Surprise?”

“Yeah, no shit,” Chan says, but he’s smiling now. “Just... next time, maybe lock the door?”

Jisung chuckles, pulling you into his side. “Noted, boss.”

As everyone piles into the room, the teasing starts in earnest. You feel a warmth spreading through you, knowing that even though you’ve been caught, you’re surrounded by people who care about you.

© deerlino (est. 100624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[chaos-and-codeine]

Super late introduction, but I wanna be your friend!

Hey everybody! I’ve been lurking the shadows for a while now, liking stuff and reblogging sometimes, but haven’t officially made my entrance yet. Can’t promise I’ll be consistently active as I work full time, but I want to start posting when I can.

About me:

Name is Zabe! I’m a 25yo girl and have no idea what I’m doing. Usually open to constructive criticism whether it’s about how the heck tumblr should be done or my writing.

My favorite color is red (probably not cuz blood is red, but I wouldn’t be mad if you said so). I play drums professionally and play guitar as a hobby. Favorite band is Twenty One Pilots. Favorite show is Grey’s Anatomy. Sweet tea has replaced half of my blood I drink so much of it.

About my blog:

The blog will be mainly whump content in writing form, but if art or gifs ever grab a hold of me I’m not opposed.

I write mainly original content, but have been slowly inching into fanfic territory, so we’ll see. I like hurting the heck out of characters, but I actually lean more towards the comfort/recovery side. If you see a ton of hurt, there’s probably even more comfort on the B side, so keep going.

In the past I’ve typically written in third person, but some first person had made its appearances. I’ve actually been reading some second person fics and liked them so those may also pop up. If I write in second tho, there will be an alt version in third because of how niche second person is.

I do not write smut ever, but I have written bits of aftermath of sensitive topics. Content warnings will be used appropriately as needed if those ever get posted as well as any other warnings that apply. If I ever miss any, please let me know- I want to make everything as clear as possible and keep everyone happy in that way.

TLDR:

I’m Zabe and I read/write whump. Please be my friend. You guys are so cool. See ya in the next post. 🤍

[rollercoasterwords]

louis was like "this is the love of my life...... the vampire armand....."

and I was like "girl...... you're both bottoms...... traumatized bottoms with daddy issues....... where are ur shitty boyfriends??????"

louis and armand out here having the world's most boring pathetic sex, they're like "we're so healthy, we have grown past our shitty-boyfriend-having phase, now we're always Safe Sane And Consensual 😌 we don't have unhinged sex anymore 😌😌😌" they are going insane. this is why louis is having a mental breakdown. he's been having intensely hinged sex for 77 years, like 100% slow lovemaking with clear communication and so much lube and always "one finger, two finger, three finger, cock" and the traffic-light consent system in place even though they don't practice any kinks that would involve words like "stop" and "hang on a sec" meaning anything but literally that. no one in this house has been rimmed in 77 years. Every night they have a very polite Discussion (it's not an argument, it's not) about whose turn it is to top because nobody here wants to. louis is not built to handle this psychologically. lestat's going to text him "hey mon cher miss u sooooo much i can't live without you, haha i got your number by killing some people at your phone company, actually several phone companies because i didn't know which network you're on, anyway come over and sit on my face WINK WINK i'll do that thing you like so much, you know the one!! the one where you're always like 'ew lestat you're so gross' but then it makes you come so hard you pass out [eggplant emoji, eggplant emoji, water drops emoji, blood drop emoji]" louis is going to see these texts and go into a fugue state and be OUT! THAT! DOOR! in nanoseconds. NANOSECONDS!!!! meanwhile lestat is double- and triple- and quadruple-texting about how he's always wanted to try roadhead and blithely using words like "pussy" in reference to louis' anatomy without asking if that's cool and also sending seven unsolicited dick pics clearly taken in an airplane bathroom

armand has never sent a dick pic in his life, even a solicited one, because it's "crass" and there are "privacy concerns" and he's "unsatisfied with the current standard of end-to-end encryption technology". lestat doesn't even know what end-to-end encryption is, and if he did he wouldn't care about it because "if a hacker is going to all that trouble to look at my nude photographs, louis, i think they've earned them :))) even though they could just follow me on instagram and tiktok or sign up for my onlyfans" this is why armand about to get dumped at terminal velocity. he doesn't even have instagram.

i’m in love w u

[tgmsunmontue]

From the top 1/? (WIP)

IceMav, (eventual) Explicit, (background Hangster who are already established). Set post-TGM. (No dead Ice obviously).

Featuring not-mistaken identities (where they (Ice and Mav) pretend to be in the dark for REASONS), Ice is Jake's Uncle Tom, Mav is Bradley's Dad, everyone knows everyone, (un)requited love, coming out as an older person, and a little bit of a circus-vibe where Ice has a horrible realization that this is indeed his circus and these are also his monkeys.

An AU where Mav married Carole and adopted Bradley to make things easier legally. A USNA Bradley who has been very careful to separate Dad/Pete from godfather/Maverick. They had an argument prior to TGM, but it was around Maverick being careless with his life (RE: Darkstar because Bradley got the call that Maverick was missing, presumed dead). So it was about risk taking and thinking while flying, so that was happening and Bradley admits to the Dagger Squadron that Maverick is his godfather and they have a ‘complicated relationship’ which isn’t a lie per se, however it’s… complicated.

                He and Bradley haven’t reached the stage yet where they’ve met any of each other’s family. They haven’t even introduced each other to their friends as boyfriends yet, and their circle of friends overlap. And he’s okay with that. More than okay actually. Doesn’t quite know how he’d broach the whole by the way I’m sort of related to the COMPACFLT through my mom conversation. He’s close with Tom now, closer than he is to any of his mom’s other cousins that’s for sure. Idolized him when he was young, and now also holds a deep-rooted respect and affection for the man. It had also helped knowing he had someone to look to as a role model, someone who was gay in the Navy and got so high up no-one could do anything to him now. Jake wanted that. Badly.

                But he also kind of wants his Uncle Tom to be happy. Although, hell, for all he knew he could have had a secret lover all these years. If anyone could keep it hidden it’s Uncle Tom, face quiet and impassive, unmoving and unflinching. He’d really hoped for a callsign half as cool as Iceman, and even if Uncle Tom jokes that he does have a literal half with man, he wishes he didn’t have the connotations of Hangman, even if it’s because of fucking song lyrics he was forever quoting and now twisted into something that make people assume things before they even know him.

                Not that he really has that problem now, with the Dagger Squadron being made a permanent detachment and with them all knowing each other so well now. They know he’s got their backs when it actually comes down to it. And he likes being based where his Uncle Tom is, because while he’s meant to be based in Hawaii they’ve made some concessions due to his cancer treatment. He knows their entire family is grateful, not least his Aunty Sarah. God, he knows it’s the high of surviving a literal suicide mission but life feels so good right now. He’s expecting Bradley to turn up any minute, they’ve got plans for dinner and a movie and then sex, not necessarily in that order.

                When he opens his door and Rooster is there, he can’t help the little happy swoop his insides do and he lets Bradley kiss him hello.

                “Hi.”

                “Hi. How are you?”

                “Good. Little annoyed… my dad is talking about getting back together with an ex…”

                “Is this the ex you like, or don’t like?”

                “You can safely bet money that it’s nearly always an ex I don’t like. I don’t think he’s ever had a relationship with anyone I’ve actually liked… shit that’s depressing.”

                “Maybe you just have really high standards for him?”

                “You mean unlike for myself, where my standards are really low?”

                “Hey!”

                They end up play-wrestling which quickly morphs into not-play making-out and yeah, the sex comes before dinner but he was sort of banking on that, making food that would be perfectly fine just staying warm in the oven. They end up curled around each other on the sofa, queuing up a movie and Jake asks about his day. Listens as Bradley talks about going out to Maverick’s hangar to work on the plane, having lunch with his dad and he wonders if Maverick has met Bradley’s step-dad. Obviously he must have, he’s been around even longer, although it must be weird to have two people called Pete wandering around, he guesses that’s why Bradley calls Maverick Maverick, and his step-dad dad. Stops the confusion.

                He knows Maverick and Bradley had a falling out of some sort, they’d been very angry with each other. He figured out that Maverick flew with Bradley’s dad, was the pilot when his dad died, and he’d thought it had been that. But then Bradley had dropped the bombshell that Maverick was his godfather and they’d had a fight over something he can’t talk about, but they would be fine. So Jake hasn’t pushed wanting to also hang out with Maverick, because when Bradley talks about the P-51 and the hangar his fingers itch but he gets Bradley wanting to mend bridges with his godfather.

                More than that though he wants to meet Bradley’s step-dad, doesn’t understand Bradley’s reticence about introducing them. It’s not like he’s going to care. But they’ve only been doing this, whatever it is, for a couple of weeks, which he guesses is early days, but with everything they’ve gone through in the last couple of months it also feels like several lifetimes. Then again, he’s in no rush to introduce Bradley to Uncle Tom, so maybe it’s for the best they wait a few weeks. Or months.

                “You still thinking about your dad?”

                “Yeah. I just need to get him seeing someone else. Anyone to take his mind off getting back with Georgia. Or any of his exes for that matter. Georgia especially is… well. I have no idea what she gets out of sleeping with Dad. She’s anti military for a start.”

                “The fact that she gets to sleep with him?”

                “Ew, gross…”

                “Maybe she thinks she can convert him to a non-military life one blowjob at a time…”

                “You could try that on me you know, see if you can convince me to do something with a blowjob…”

                “Don’t think I need the promise of a bj to convince you to do anything,” Jake says with a grin. “You know, my uncle Tom is gay, maybe we could set them up? Well, assuming your dad swings both ways?”

                “Huh. Yeah… He does. Keeps that pretty much on the down-low, very much on a need to know basis. Pretty sure I only know because I saw him trying to sneak a guy out when I was seventeen. Did make me feel safer about coming out to him myself though.”

…            …            …

                “Jake, I am not installing Grindr on my phone, work, personal or otherwise.”

                “Thought you might say that, so I bought you a burner. Well, please don’t actually burn it, but you know what I mean.”

                “Jake…” Tom lets out an exasperated sigh. “I wouldn’t burn it. I know what a burner is. I’m not an idiot. I just don’t want to go on a date…”

                “Okay, so you don’t actually have to go on a date. All my cards on the table. I’m using the app to introduce you to the step-dad of my… uh, a friend.”

                “A friend huh? Is this the same friend you won’t introduce to the family?”

                “Yes. The exact one. Anyway, I just want you to send him a couple of messages. Let’s say ten messages. After that you can go back to ignoring it, remove the battery from the phone and pretend it never happened. Okay?”

                “Will you let it go if I do this?”

                “I mean… yeah. I hope you make a friend or something, but he’s military as well, so you guys have something in common at least…”

                “Fine. But I want the name of your friend.”

                “No! You’ll just look him up.”

                “He’s Navy?”

                “No!”

                “He is! Good job.”

…            …            …

                “Bradley! Why is Grindr amongst my recently installed apps!”

                “I’m setting you up!” Bradley calls out, grabbing two beers to go with their takeout Chinese.

                “I don’t need setting up. I can find my own dates. I don’t need an app!”

                “Yes, you do. You can’t get back with Georgia just because you’re lonely. Look, I’m not going to make you swipe through dick-pics…”

                “Maybe I want to swipe through dick-pics!”

                “Mav, be serious! You just said you didn’t want the app!”

                “Seriously? You’re the one that installed Grindr on my phone.”

                “God, maybe this was an awful idea.”

                “Yeah, you think?”

                “Okay, give me a second,” Bradley mutters, rolling his eyes and pulling his own from his pocket and thumbing into his contacts.

                “Hi… how’s it going?” Jake asks, voice quiet, and he must still be at his Uncle’s house.

                “Not well. You think we can maybe just set them up with an app that blocks their numbers and then just let them talk that way?”

                “Can’t hurt to try… your dad resisting the Grindr approach too huh?”

                “So much. And I get it, HE’S REALLY OLD,” Bradley says, raising his voice while looking Mav dead in the eye.

                “Hey! I heard that!”

                “You were meant to!”

                He ignores the glare Mav shoots him and pokes his tongue out at the back of his head as he walks away.

                “Okay, let’s see what we can find. I’ll message you and let you know.”

                “Sure thing.”

                Fifteen minutes later Jake has sent him the information, an end-to-end encrypted messaging app, one which hides the number of the phone sending the message. It’s silent and has to be manually opened to check for notifications, which is very old-school but means there’s no potential odd sounding pings. The icon is a mundane looking tower symbol and he guesses that could mean anything.

                “Okay Mav – you need to give this guy a chance okay? Please?”

                “What’s in it for me?”

                “I will stop bothering you about… uh… your love life for six months?”

                “No deal. I want to meet the guy you just rang. Who’s he in all this?”

                “Uh… I guess he’s my boyfriend.”

                “Ooohhh… it’s new huh? You’re in that new loved-up stage where you want everyone around you to be in the same stage.”

                “Uh, I mean we’ve known each other for years, but we’ve recently… come to an arrangement.”

                “Is it boyfriends or friends with benefits?”

                “Well, we weren’t exactly friends before, so definitely closer to boyfriends I guess,” Bradley says, carefully skirting the fact that Mav actually already knows Jake quite well.

                “Great. I’ll send what, ten messages to this guy and then I get to meet your guy in two weeks.”

                “No! Three months. And twenty messages.”

                “You realize you can’t force me to do anything right? You have no bargaining power here?”

                “I know, but… for me?”

                “Ugh… sad cow eyes. Fine fine, put them away. I’ll message the guy. But I do want to meet your guy when you feel the timing is right.”

                “Yeah, of course.”

                God he hopes this works because he has no idea if Mav will like the fact he’s with Jake or not.

…            …            …

                They meet up every week when they’re both in the same place, and it’s been a treat these last few months, but also a trial. Usually the distance has been a unintended blessing, making his unfortunate case of unrequited love easier to ignore. When he was younger he’d thought it was just a crush, that it would just… fade away. Instead the opposite has happened, time and distance have hardened and solidified similar to how pressure and temperature turn limestone into marble his love for Maverick is a solid and unmoving object that is ever present. Every time Mav walks through his front door he has to fight the urge to enfold him in his arms and just hold him. Every time.

                “Did you ever want kids of your own?” Pete asks and Tom startles, looks across at him.

                “No. I have nieces and nephews and cousin’s kids coming out my ears. They’re enough trouble to be getting on with, without adding my own genes to the mix. Wasn’t ever going to happen anyway,” he tacks on, and he wonders if this, today, this moment, will be the time it twigs and Mav will ask what he means.

                “Too much trouble by half. Do you know what Bradley did the other day? Installed a dating app on my phone.”

                “What? Why would he do that?”

                “He thought I was considering getting back with Georgia for some reason.”

                “And you’re not?”

                “No. Anyway, he’s trying to set me up with someone. At least you don’t have to worry about that.”

                “You’d be surprised. My cousins kid bought me a phone, a burner phone, with a dating app installed on it.”

                “Oh yeah? Which one?”

                Tom swallows.

                Okay.

                No more subtle hints.

                It’s now or never.

                “Grindr.”

                He didn’t purposely wait for Mav to have a sip of his drink, but he still sprays it out across the coffee table, eyes bugging out and he can’t seem to look Tom in the eye and he feels his stomach start to sink.

                “You… ah… you know that app is for gay guys right?”

                “I’m aware.”

                Pete just stares at him and he wonders if this is it. The moment his best friend just gets up and walks out of his life.

                “You never told me.”

                “You never asked.”

                “Yeah well, there was a whole thing about not asking and not telling until about ten years ago so… sorry if I thought you’d have maybe mentioned it. Or at least… alluded to it.”

                “I did Pete. With something called subtlety. I know it’s not your strong suit, but I tried to leave it there in the open for you to pick up on. I’m only just… getting to the grips with the idea of being more out.”

                “Okay. Uh. Does anyone else know?”

                Tom snorts.

                “Yeah, my whole family for a start. Had to get them to stop trying to marry me off. Slider of course.”

                “Why of course? Why Slider?”

                “He’s known me for a very long time.”

                “I’ve known you for a long time.”

                He doesn’t want to mention that Slider figured it out, because he’s had to learn to be subtle, and his weak point has and will always be the man in front of him. And he can never let him know. Still, Mav sounds annoyed.

                “Slider figured it out. He’s too perceptive for his own good,” Tom mutters, because he’s also the one person who knows about his lifelong torch bearing.

                “Huh. Okay.”

…            …            …

                Tom locks the house up, Mav having left to go home after Tom had soundly beaten him at chess. He knows it isn’t one of Mav’s favorite games, that he really only plays to humor Tom and give them something to do while they talk… his brain is catching on something and it’s going to bother him until he figures it out. Pete. Playing chess simply to spend more time with him...

                He stops.

                Blinks.

                Pete had said Bradley had installed a dating app on his phone.

                Within a day of Jake giving him a phone with Grindr installed, which quickly morphed to a simple encrypted messaging service.

                He’s learnt to not ignore his gut and this is deeply suspicious with the coincidence.

                He wonders if Jake and Bradley are dating. The idea of that makes him smile, even if it’ll cause an administrative nightmare. He knows they know each other, they’re part of the same squadron and there are rules, however it wouldn’t surprise him at all if both Bradley and Jake decided that that particular rule was for other people.

                Wait.

                He suddenly needs to know which app it is exactly that Bradley installed and he has his phone in his hand ringing him before he even considers the time of night, or where Bradley might be right now.

                “Hey Uncle Ice… Everything okay?”

                “Hey Bradley. Sorry for the late call, Just, uh, Mav mentioned you installed a dating app on his phone. You mind telling me which one it was?”

                “Uh… Grindr. Why?”

                “Oh. No reason. Just curious Thanks. Have a good night.”

                Why would Bradley install Grindr.

                Maverick’s not gay.

                To his knowledge Maverick isn’t even bisexual. Or anything else that might imply he’s anything other than overwhelmingly heterosexual.

                Maverick didn’t say anything tonight when he learnt about Tom’s own sexuality.

                Maybe Bradley knows something Tom doesn’t.

                Scratch that.

                Bradley definitely knows something Tom doesn’t.

[g3z0]

Boy next door P13

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12

Summary: You move from Florida to Boston in the middle the school year. Being the new kid is hard - being the new kid in the middle of the school year is even harder. Especially if you’re not good in making friends. But suddenly, there’s this boy who lives next door that caught your attention

Warnings: 💏

-gezo

Avoiding Kayla was harder than I thought it would be.

She would be on my ass 24/7 in school.

In the hallways, Lunch, my way to class, she almost followed me into the boys bathroom because she was telling me about her great date with Owen.

With Kayla being near me almost the whole school day Nick kept his distance.

That was pissing me off the most.

So I was fucking relieved as the Friday came in.

„Nick!“ I grinned at him as I approached him quickly, slowing my steps as I walked next to him.

„Chasey got home early. Wanna walk?“

The boy returned my smile and nodded „sure.“

We walked out off the school property and towards our houses.

„Wanna go to mine? Moms making sure always to cook for one person more.“ he smiled as he nudged me with his elbow.

My heart fluttered. „Yeah, that’s nice of her.“ I smiled to myself.

„You could sleep over again, mom and dad wouldn’t mind.“ he shrugged, looking over to me.

„she‘ll get lonely, won’t she? I’m just saying. You should spend more time with her.“

Fucking Kayla.

„Nah, not today.. I think I should sleep at home, moms mood is still not better.“ I breathed „sorry, Nick.“

Nick smiled and shook his head „don’t apologize. It’s alright.“

The didn’t talk for the rest of the walk. It wasn’t awkward. Things are never awkward with Nick.

Nick pushed the front door open and kicked his shoes off „home!“ he yelled through the house as he threw his backpack into the corner.

I rolled my eyes at his action and took my shoes off, placing mine and nicks out of the way.

I let my bag down next to nicks and followed him into the kitchen.

Immediately my nostrils were filled with the smell of Mary-Lou‘s cooking.

„Hey boys.“ Mary-Lou smiled.

„Hey mom.“ Nick smiled, peeking a kiss on his moms cheek before walking into the living room.

„Hey.“ I breathed, smiling down at her.

„Y/n! B+ in maths, hm? Nick told me about it, very proud of you darling.“ she smiled.

I felt my ears burn up in embarrassment. „Thanks..“ I smiled sheepishly before following Nick into the living room.

After we ate and had a chat with Mary-Lou we went into nicks room.

Nicks room felt much more home than mine.

I liked his silk bed sheets and his posters. And it smelled like Nick.

My favorite thing was his record player.

Nick put a vinyl of T. Rex in before he jumped next to me into the bed.

Sometimes we both just layed on his bed, staring up the ceiling, humming to music and moving our feet our hands to the rhythm from time to time.

It would have been awkward with everyone else. But like I said - Things are never awkward with Nick.

I had my eyes closed as we listened to the song Jeepster.

My hands were resting on my stomach and my knee occasionally brushed against nicks.

Only the slightest touch made butterfly’s grew in my stomach.

I had hoped that the things I feel when nicks around would just go away after some time.

But oh, I was so wrong.

It only got worse.

I tried to tell myself I thought Nick was cool. That it was nothing more than a friend crush.

Like not a real crush but you wanna be friends with that person so bad that it drives you insane.

Of course I thought that Nick was extremely cool. I also thought about how it would feel to press my lips against his.

Not a friend crush then.

„Hey, y/n?“

„Hm?“

Nick rolled to his side to look at me „you really want to go to prom with Olivia?“

I blinked my eyes open and turned my head to meet his gaze.

If you looked closely you could see Nick had light freckles spread across his nose. I wanted to count how many.

Shit, that’s weird.

„Yeah?“ I shrugged. „Why do you ask?“

He bit down his lip.

Fuck Nick, don’t do that.

„I just thought.. shouldn’t we go to prom with a real date? Like a person we like like?“ he mumbled.

I licked my lips „I suppose.. but then again there’s no one I like like.“ I lied through my teeth.

„Do you want to go with chasey?“ I asked.

He smiled a little „there’s barely any other guy that likes guys at our school. So yeah- I guess.“ he shrugged a little.

„How did you..“ I bit down my inner cheek and stared at him.

He smiled gently and rolled his eyes „go on, ask.“

„How did you know you’re gay?“ I asked hesitantly.

Nick rolled over to his back and stared up the ceiling „I just did.“ he shrugged „it was always there. I just needed time to figure it out.“ he explained.

I nodded a little.

Time to figure it out..

„How did you figure it out?“ I laughed a little and felt like I was stabbing holes into him with my questions.

Nick smiled and turned his head to look at me. „Crush on male cartoon characters as a kid.. crush on a male teacher when I was younger.“

„then eventually crush on a boy my age.“

I raised my eyebrows „you had a boyfriend?“

He nodded in response „mhm.“

I trained my eyes on his „and uhm.. what happened?“ I swallowed a little and tugged bottom lip between my teeth.

Nick poked his tounge against his inner cheek.

Oh god Nick, especially don’t do that.

„we broke up. He moved away.“ Nick shrugged a little.

„I see..“ I cleared my throat.

„Have you ever kissed anyone, y/n?“

I blinked at him for a second.

My ears started to get hot „yeah.. wasn’t that nice to be honest.“ I mumbled with a small smile.

„Really?“ he chuckled and rolled back to his side, our faces just inches away. „How come?“

I desperately tried to only look into his eyes.

My heart was bumping against my chest so hard, I was afraid he might hear it.

„Kayla kissed me.“

Nicks expression hardened. „Oh.“ he breathed.

„Oh..“ I breathed back, nodding a little.

„the night she slept over at my place. We were at a party before and she cried because she had a fight with Owen. I comforted her and then she just.. yeah.“ I explained to him, being embarrassed by it.

He frowned at me a little „so Kayla was your first kiss?“

I pressed my lips together and turned my face away, groaning in embarrassment.

Nick laughed a little „that’s completely fine. Really.“ he comforted me.

„Nah, it’s embarrassing to have your first kiss with 17.“ I sighed. „And I didn’t even want it.“ I almost whispered.

Nicks hand came up to my cheek, turning my face back towards his.

„I don’t think it’s embarrassing..“ he whispered.

Nicks face was so close to mine now, I could feel his warm breath on my face.

My throat went dry. „Okay..“ I whispered, my eyes moving down to his lips.

If someone just slightly pushed me, our lips would touch. I would kiss Nick.

Unfortunately, there isn’t anyone who would push me so my and nicks lips would touch by accident.

It’s just me and Nick. I have never been so frightened to be alone with him as now.

If he doesn’t move away any time soon I might do something incredibly dumb.

I looked back into his eyes and brought my hand up to his hair. I gently pushed my fingertips through his hair strains, enjoying the feeling of his soft hair brushing against my skin.

Nicks cheeks started to radiate pure warmth. I’m sure mine did also. At least it felt like it.

My cheeks felt hot. But then again my whole body felt hot.

Nicks eyes flicked over my face for a brief second. It took only a second to drive me over the edge.

Before I could to something about it I just snapped. Every rational thought has left.

I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips against nicks in a soft manner.

And that was the fucking scariest thing I ever did.

Nick didn’t respond and I felt his body stiffen a little.

I quickly pulled away and stared at him with wide eyes. He looked like a deer in headlights - wide eyes, parted lips.

„O-oh.“ I breathed shakily, pulling my hand away from his hair. „Fuck I-"

Before I could form a proper sentence, Nick grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me closer, closing the gap between us.

My eyes fluttered close and I breathed into the kiss, laying my hand on his hip as our lips moved gently against each others.

It was very different from the kiss with Kayla.

I didn’t feel anything but uncomfortable and awkward as Kayla kissed me but with Nick-

Oh Nick.

Adrenalin was pumping through my veins and my stomach tingled. Everything tingled.

Nick had very soft lips, a light taste of mint behind it.

It was hard to not let my hand roam around his body - to pull him closer.

But I didn’t want to push. I just wanted to enjoy it.

I parted my lips slightly and Nick slipped his tounge inside, deepening the kiss.

Okay, this was new.

I almost moaned at the new feeling.

Nicks thumb brushed across my cheek before he pulled away slowly.

I took a shaky breath and blinked my eyes open, looking at him.

He pushed my hair out of my face and smiled „was that okay?“ he whispered.

I nodded quickly „so okay.“ I breathed, returning his smile.

-

„You sure you don’t wanna sleep over?“ Nick mumbled as he ran his fingertips through my hair.

I sighed and tapped my fingertip against my phone display.

8:42 pm

„Yeah..“ I whispered, pressing my cheek against his chest. I closed my eyes and listened to his heartbeat.

„Okay..“ Nick whispered back.

We stayed like that for a few minutes more before I slowly stood up from the bed. „I should go.“ I breathed, not really wanting to.

Nick gave me a nod and also stood up. „Im gonna bring you downstairs.“

I smiled at him before I walked out of his room and down the stairs. I put my shoes on and grabbed my backpack.

Nick watched me before he opened his front door. „we’re hanging out tomorrow?“ he asked, tilting his head.

I nodded a little and walked over to him „yeah.“ I smiled down at him.

I looked around before I pressed my lips shortly against his. His cheeks turned a soft pink and he smiled up at me. „Night.“ he whispered.

„Good Night.“ I whispered back walking out of his house.

I smiled to myself as I put one feet after the other.

My heart was still beating fast and the butterfly’s were going crazy in my stomach.

I took a deep breathe to calm myself down and pushed my front door open.

„Im home!“ I said as I closed the door behind me.

No answer.

I sighed to myself and ran my hand through my hair.

I walked towards my moms bedroom, past the living room.

I stopped midway, something catching my attention in the corner of my eye.

My heart skipped a beat before it sunk down to my stomach.

„Mom..?“

Tags! @udotnknowme @sturnclouds @patscorner @miloisdone1 @thenickgirl @freshloveforthefit @nathandoesgf @m0r94n @sturniolo0ntop

[labyrinthhofmymind]

the marauders characters playing a drinking game:

peter: drink if you’ve kissed both black brothers!

*james drinks*

sirius: ok yeah i knew that

*remus drinks*

sirius: ok ok i’m fine that’s cool it happens

regulus: drink if you’ve had your first kiss with someone in this room

*james drinks cause his first kiss was sirius*

*sirius drinks cause his first kiss was james*

*peter drinks cause his first kiss was james*

*lily drinks cause her first kiss was marlene*

*marlene drinks cause her first kiss was lily*

sirius: bloody hell ok. drink if you’ve ever had a threesome

*regulus drinks*

*peter drinks*

sirius: what the fuck! please tell me if wasn’t with each other!

regulus: no i did it with evan and barty

sirius: ok well then who did you have a threesome with pete?

peter: oh i also did it with evan and barty

sirius: I- WHAT! EVAN AND BARTY?! REALLY?!

peter: what can i say… they pitched it really well.

sirius: and how exactly did they pitch it to you?

peter: well… they walked up to me and said: “hey do you wanna have a threesome?” and so i said yes!

sirius: what the actual fuck

mary: alright let’s move on! drink if you’ve ever kissed remus!

*sirius drinks*

*james drinks*

*regulus drinks*

*peter drinks*

*mary drinks*

*lily drinks*

*marlene drinks*

sirius: YOU’VE ALL KISSED REMUS!!! MARY???? PETE???? LILY????? JAMES????!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK

mary: we were both drunk, it was just for fun!

peter: yeah same here

lily: it was back in third year when we thought we fancied each other! calm down sirius

sirius: well what about you james huh????!!! you kissed my boyfriend?! what, was my brother not enough for you?!

remus: sirius it wasn’t like that-

james: yeah it was super casual, super normal-

*flashback to fourth year, james was crushing on remus super hard, they made out in their dorm and realised they were better off as friends, decided no one else ever needed to know*

[moronkyne]

something i really love about the redacted fandom is how literally anything with food is max’s rustic pizza. lasko and dears first date? max’s rustic pizza. any food order? max’s rustic pizza. the wedding? max’s rustic pizza.

also i want more than anything for guy to have like a widdle tiny cameo in the wedding. even just like a “hey! yes yes we got all the pizza, it’s all going great. don’t worry, just have a good time man!” to ash or something I’m begging 🙏

This!!! It always feels like a cute little cross over episode. The connections between Guy and Asher—Or even Guy and Gavin are hilarious. You get to see these characters who wouldn’t usually be in the same storyline interact with one another and it’s cool as hell.

I think I’ll add to the post everytime I find a canon interaction between Guy and other characters, but here’s what I have as of right now:

Gavin, Freelancer, Asher & Baaabe have all canonically ordered form Max’s and have been face to face with Guy

Gabe’s death being on the same intersection (Guy hitman fic when?? /j)

[fruitbasketball]

also the point about how she allows people to be racist towards her back peers genuinely what do you want her to do. She has spoken highly about all of them and they continue to put themselves in the cross fire don’t even try tell me I’m wrong bro. If she spoke up do you genuinely think people would care 😭😭 fuck outta here w that bullshit ofc they wouldn’t. She hasn’t told her fans to go and do this so idk why you’re so angered by a 22 year old girl who just wants to play basketball?? 😭😭

“continue to put themselves in the crossfire”

i’m gonna tell you you’re wrong my guy 😭😭😭 the fuck

the chennedy carter incident aside… what do you mean? like deadass bro. what do you mean???

do you mean… continue to play basketball?

do you mean… continue to be physical in a physical sport?

do you mean… play the game the way they did even before caitlin clark got to the w because women’s basketball doesn’t start and end with caitlin clark???

y’all act dense on purpose swear to god

i feel like i’ve been very clear about what i want her to do! who knows if people would care, because she has not bothered to get up anywhere - a presser, twitter, instagram - and say, “hey, quit being fucking racist because that’s what you’re doing!”

instead we’re getting

“i don’t check social media”

“the biggest thing is just playing basketball”

“thank you to the women that came before me”

that’s all cool that’s great i’m happy for you thank you

but you have somebody who signed a missile that actively assisted in genocide endorsing you!!! fucking DENOUNCE that shit bro holy FUCK

and i don’t wanna hear shit about “a 22 year old who just wants to play basketball” when cameron brink and paige bueckers are 22 year olds who just play basketball but continue to speak up about the inequities in this sport regardless

the bar is in fucking hell and she still can’t meet it

[carly404error]

Hey, HAPPY PRIDE MONTH FROM MY TWO FAVOURITE GUYS!!!

(From @strawberryicebreakers beetlejuice fic!!)

Damn it took a while but I’m so proud of it actually, because I discovered some cool brushes and new techniques and I just really like how it looks :DDDD.

Took me a bit also to do it but yeah, it was worth the time!!

[veevz-drawz]

DoaHD | Entry 2: But Tea Time with Friends is the Best

A/N: hey remember when i said i would upload biweekly? yeah so that was a lie LMAO. anyways sorry for literally uploading a month after, i was busy moving and switch to working full time;; (and working on a zine :0!) but i've been getting used to the schedule change so hopefully updates will be more consistent now!

Taglist: @minecraftninjerkid (DM if you would like to be added!)

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The summer months were never Strawberry Tea Cookie’s cup of tea.

It was so oppressively humid. The consistent moisture never failed to soak through her dough, making it intolerably soft and sticky. Her curly locks always flatten the minute she stepped out of Strawberry Mansion, with the glaze holding her hair up immediately dissolving upon contact with the damp atmosphere.

However, on this day, the Great Witches seemed to have taken pity on the former heiress, sending waves of cooling wind across the kingdom after hearing of yesterday’s misfortunes.

The breeze traveled deep within Hollyberry Palace, carrying ballads of rustling leaves and songbird melodies past pristinely kept rose gardens and winding bush mazes. It softly brushed past four cookies huddled around a tea table, careful as to not disturb their conversation.

Strawberry Tea Cookie was situated under the protective shade of a berry palm tree, recounting what happened between sips of refreshing fruit tea. Princess Cookie and Wildberry Cookie basked under the oven-hot sunlight, listening to their friend intently— the former more visibly angry. Knight Cookie stood beside his princess, insisting to keep his post despite the chair offered to him.

“...And now I’m no longer heiress,” Strawberry Tea Cookie sighed, placing her now empty cup back on its saucer. Dread crept through her dough like mycelium across a dish of rotten fruit. If the weight of her parents’ decision hadn’t hit her last night, it certainly did now after she told her friends everything.

“How dare they!” Princess Cookie huffed. “Your parents had no right to do that!”

She turned to her retainer for affirmation, which he gave in the form of a quick nod and a “yes princess!”

“I agree, it’s strange that they would forfeit your position like this,” Wildberry Cookie commented.

“Yeah! You practically launched House Strawberry into high fashion!” Princess Cookie added. “That alone makes you more than deserving of that spot!”

Strawberry Tea Cookie leaned back into her chair, remorse pulling her mouth down into a slight frown. “I… Don’t think that mattered to them.”

The designer agreed that this achievement alone should’ve solidified her place as heiress. She clearly remembered the proud look in her parents’ eyes when FragariA debuted during Hollyberry Fashion Week, its popularity instantly skyrocketing to rival established oat couture powerhouses such as House Blueberry.

A fresh wave of betrayal snapped open the wounds she had stitched up the night prior, her sullen expression digging deeper into her features. “I just… Don’t smile like the rest of my family.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie’s brows furrowed, her previous emotions washed away by resentment. From the moment she was born, House Strawberry’s intertwined principles of creativity and expression were emphasized in every aspect of her life. She studied every immaculately painted portrait lining Strawberry Mansion’s walls, was tutored by the best artists in the Hollyberry Kingdom, and attended the same kingdom’s most prestigious fashion institute.

Yet she will take drawing a naked cookie for eight hours straight in the smallest, most dingiest studio over being forced to smile and laugh like the rest of her family members.

Growing up surrounded by creativity also meant that she was constantly criticized for her lack of emotion, which her family never failed to remind her of. Yet she always believed that forcing expression countered creativity. Acting happy impedes one’s ability to connect with where art fundamentally came from— their true feelings. Plus, Strawberry Tea Cookie would argue that her defiance was still a form of expression, much to her parents’ dismay.

Sure, disobedience was undesirable within her family circle, but what’s the problem if that’s what she truly felt? She couldn’t possibly perform at her best if all her family wanted were soft smiles and saccharine words towards their benefactors.

Then the realization sank in, pulled down by a heavy peach pit as horror blew out her frosted pupils. “...And that’s the problem…”

“That’s not true and you know it!” Princess Cookie practically jumped from her seat, grabbing Strawberry Tea Cookie and pulling her closer from across the table—into the light. “You are perfect the way you are, Peach Jam Cookie’s words mean nothing!”

“They meant nothing until my parents agreed with her,” Strawberry Tea Cookie argued, voice cracking as she retracted back into the shadows, holding herself close. “And what father said…” 

Bare minimum. Incapable of expression. Too spoiled.

“He’s right, I’m far from a good heiress.”

If showing up to family dinners was a rare occasion, then attending parties hosted by other nobles was something that didn’t even occur on a blue moon. She found them to be a waste of time that otherwise could have been used on building FragariA’s name.

Yet they were excellent opportunities to network, as her parents constantly stressed, but Strawberry Tea Cookie found no use in it. She already had strong connections with the royal family and a few notable designers, there wasn’t any use for more besides maintaining the ones her family already forged.

Ones that she has actively destroyed due to her inactivity.

In retrospect, the designer should have put more care into strengthening these precious relationships— she only did when her parents implored her to. Perhaps she naively believed that they would remain static for years to come.

Though, if she were to be completely honest with herself, it was because those cookies weren’t all too interesting to talk to. But that excuse was leagues more fragile than her cousin’s ego.

“Don’t tell me they brought up Blueberry Raisin Cookie too?” Princess Cookie asked heatedly. “Removing him from your life was the best choice you could’ve made!”

“Your aunt already crossed the line by mentioning him.” Wildberry Cookie stated, an annoyed inflection edging his tone.

“No, thankfully they didn’t.” Strawberry Tea Cookie sighed. She would have truly snapped if they did. “But, I think they were referencing other events…”

The fighting finally died down after what seemed like a millennium, leaving the once elegant banquet table an absolute mess. Strawberry Tea Cookie stepped over scattered silverware and shattered plates, grimacing when she accidentally stepped on a piece of sticky cake. She sat down on a nearby chair, watching as cookies regained their senses.

What a great start to the Princess Contest.

The designer was still dumbfounded by the amount of cookies who drank the punch after seeing it turn a different color— they didn’t even listen to her warnings when she made said observation! She was left stuck on the sidelines watching the feast turn into a battle royale until whatever was mixed into the punch wore off.

“Whew! I need a break.” Princess Cookie sighed tiredly, slouching next to Strawberry Tea Cookie. She looked worse for wear, but her dress was still impressively intact— as expected of the true Hollyberry Princess.

“Why are cookies always fighting,” she bemoaned. “It’s not fun, AND it’s exhausting!”

“How dare you, that is an insult to the noble House Raspberry!” Raspberry Cookie proclaimed, pointing her candy cane blade towards the two. “We have built our culture and wealth with nothing but the tips of our swords!”

Strawberry Tea Cookie and Princess Cookie exchanged confused looks with each other. But while the latter seemed only bewildered, the former was growing ever more annoyed with the pompous raspberry heiress.

“And how exactly is that an insult?” Strawberry Tea Cookie questioned, standing up and shielding Princess Cookie. Not only had Raspberry Cookie called her friend “unimpressive” earlier, it now seemed she was just cherry-picking—or rather, raspberry-picking—a reason to confront her.

“Fighting is what molded us!” The noble fencer explained fiercely. “What brought us above the other Cookie Houses!”

“Yet here you are, needing a silly Princess Contest to prove your family’s worth,” the designer shot back, eliciting an indignant gasp from her opponent. “House Raspberry is far past its glory days, it’s evident from the way you’re so desperate to undermine Princess Cookie.”

Now that was an insult, not a harmless comment her friend made.

“You just insulted the great deeds of my ancestors,” Raspberry Cookie furiously cried. “Who risked every speck of flour in their bodies upon their blade.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie had to fight every grain of sugar in her body to not openly roll her eyes.

“I demand an apology, here and now!” The raspberry fencer ordered, pointing her rapier towards the irritated designer. “Strawberry Tea Cookie, I challenge you to a duel!”

“Hold up!” Princess Cookie interjected, standing up and marching towards Raspberry Cookie. “This is MY battle,” she declared with determination, swinging her scepter to match the stance of Raspberry Cookie’s sword. “And it’s time for me to find out what kind of dough she’s made of!”

“You were defending her highness’s honor!” Knight Cookie interjected. “I see nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah! And I really appreciate you supporting me throughout the Princess Contest,” Princess Cookie chimed in. “Plus, you apologized to Raspberry Cookie after, right?”

Strawberry Tea Cookie shook her head shamefully, her mother had to apologize on her behalf. She didn’t miss the way Princess Cookie’s expression shifted subtly.

“And that’s not even the worst of it,” the designer lamented. “I permanently severed ties with House Blueberry after I made Blueberry Cookie cry during that one ball.”

Fate seemed to have it out for Strawberry Tea Cookie that evening, being forced to face Blueberry Raisin Cookie’s granddaughter only a short month after being dismissed by him.

The young blueberry noble looked undeniably nervous under the designer’s scrutinizing gaze, a stark contrast from her usual bubbly self. 

“Spit it out.” Strawberry Tea Cookie demanded frigidly. Cookies began gathering around the two out of concern and curiosity, surrounding them like a blinding spotlight. Blueberry Cookie glanced at the crowd anxiously, stuttering out jumbles of unintelligible words.

The strawberry heiress couldn’t care less.

Out of patience, she walked past the trembling noble, purposely bumping against the other’s shoulder. “Wasting my time just like your grandfather, good to know that it runs in your family’s dough.” She remarked tartly.

That seemed to set Blueberry Cookie off. “Why are you so mean!?” She shakily blurted out, so loud that it cut all conversation and music in the ballroom. “I was just trying to apologize for what Grandpa did!” 

Strawberry Tea Cookie’s jam stilled. She turned around, the hot tears running down Blueberry Cookie’s face biting through the heiress’s hardened expression. Every sob-induced hiccup and whimper pounded more guilt within, grinding it into her very dough like she was trapped in a mortar and pestle.

Blueberry Cookie ran off before the designer could utter an apology, leaving the crowd’s scornful gaze solely on her.

Judgemental murmurs filled the room as Strawberry Tea Cookie’s face grew hot with embarrassment and shame. The sea of ornate ball gowns slowly melted into a tall, amorphous wave of burnt caramel, yet she could still feel the contemptuous heat radiating from each individual cookie.

The spotlight was all on her now.

“Why does Lady Blueberry Cookie have to apologize anyways?” A voice whispered.

Strawberry Tea Cookie glanced at the direction Blueberry Cookie ran off to. If she’s quick, she could probably catch up to her and apologize– she didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of the designer’s frustrations.

“No, no, Lady Blueberry Cookie was apologizing on behalf of Sir Blueberry Raisin Cookie.” Another cookie corrected.

“But he’s such an upstanding cookie!”

That caught the heiress’s attention. All plans of apologizing flew out the window with that single phrase alone.

Upstanding? They can’t be serious.

“I heard she was so difficult to deal with that Sir Blueberry Raisin Cookie dismissed her as his apprentice.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie turned to face the gossiping cookies, anger threatening to boil over. They were glaring right back at her, as if wanting her to hear their absurd rumors.

“I’m not surprised, given how she acted with Lady Blueberry Cookie.”

This was ridiculous.

“Well maybe if he wasn’t such a gross wretch, she wouldn’t need to apologize in the first place!” The words just slipped out of her mouth– a culmination of months worth of resentment and stress.

The entire ballroom collectively, and dramatically, gasped at Strawberry Tea Cookie’s statement. A surge of indignant shouts rose after the brief silence, drowning out all attempts at explaining herself. 

Strawberry Tea Cookie was tired. Tired of this ball, tired of her family, and especially tired of maintaining that geriatric raisin’s reputation for the sake of public relations.

The heiress rushed to get out of the limelight, wading through the massive ocean of angry cookies towards an exit— an escape.

“House Strawberry’s relationship with House Blueberry was already a thread away from snapping,” Strawberry Tea Cookie sighed, burying her face into her palms. “I completely severed it that night.”

She made such a huge mess that not even her family’s extensive connections could clean it up. House Blueberry refused any contact, turning away Strawberry Tea Cookie and her parents when she tried entering their estate.

For months, the former heiress couldn’t show her face in public without hearing the scrutinizing whispers of cookies nearby. She had to endure her relatives complaining about the endless rumors at social gatherings— not to mention the arguments that ensued after.

“Crumbs, and now my cousin is heir,” Strawberry Tea Cookie cried. “That means House Strawberry will belong to the Peach Clan, and who knows what will happen afterwards.” Strawberry Sugar Cookie’s stagnant view on art and Peach Jam Cookie’s… personality were already concerning enough. She couldn’t possibly imagine what would happen if the Peach Clan got their sticky hands on her house. “Great Ancients, what do I do?”

How could she possibly fix this? Would her parents even consider giving back her inheritance? Just how long ago did they decide Strawberry Sugar Cookie would take her place?

“You’ll figure something out.” A strong, warm hand grasped Strawberry Tea Cookie’s shoulder. She looked up to meet Wildberry Cookie’s comforting gaze. “I know you wouldn’t let this go without a fight.”

“Yeah! You’re THE Strawberry Tea Cookie after all!” Princess Cookie added, wrapping her arms around the designer.

“The Princess has her faith in you,” Knight Cookie exclaimed. “You better not fail!”

“Thanks, you guys.” The designer smiled, uplifted by their encouragement.

But what should she do..?

“Oh! Isn’t Hollyberry Fashion Week coming up in a few months?” Princess Cookie perked up. “This would be the perfect time to prove you’re the rightful heir!”

“A comeback during one of the biggest events in the Hollyberry Kingdom…” Strawberry Tea Cookie thought for a moment. “That’s a really good idea.”

If she were to come up with a collection so compelling that it got cookies talking about her again, she could revive FragariA’s popularity and skyrocket the brand back to the top. At the same time, she’ll work on mending those severed connections while also forming new ones. That would hopefully demonstrate to her parents that she’s more than capable of taking over House Strawberry. Determination filled her jam, and for a brief moment, she felt there was hope in this situation.

But there was still one problem…

“What do I base this collection off of..?” There’s a reason why Strawberry Tea Cookie hasn’t participated in Hollyberry Fashion Week in almost two years, let alone released any new designs. She had simply exhausted all sources of inspiration in the Hollyberry Kingdom. Worse yet, it seemed that the more time she spent stuck here, the more creativity drained out of her.

“Why don’t you go traveling?” Wildberry Cookie suggested. “You have been burnt out for quite some time, perhaps a change in scenery could bring new ideas.”

“That’s true, but where have I not gone to?” Strawberry Tea Cookie pondered. She had made collections based on all the nearby regions, and reusing ideas wouldn’t garner the necessary attention for her brand.

“Wait, what about that Isle of Tea collection you made years ago?” Princess Cookie mentioned. “It was so pretty, but you never released it...”

“Considering how much of a fuss my parents made when I showed off just one of the dresses, I doubt they would allow it,” Strawberry Tea Cookie sighed. It was a shame, that collection was genuinely her favorite— her magnum opus, even. “I should refrain from arguing with them anyways.”

This left the trio–or quartet when counting Knight Cookie–stumped. The designer considered writing to Mont Blanc Cookie for some help, perhaps arranging a short visit to the Cookie Kingdom so she could get some inspiration.

“...Her Majesty, Hollyberry Cookie, and I have been invited back to the Crème Republic to celebrate its reconstruction,” Wildberry Cookie brought up. “Perhaps you could join us.”

“Isn’t the Crème Republic on the other side of Crispia?” Strawberry Tea Cookie queried, she was reluctant to travel that far when Hollyberry Fashion Week was just around the corner. It would take a couple of weeks alone just to figure out the logistics. However, she couldn’t deny her curiosity regarding the city-state. The snippets Wildberry Cookie shared of its culture and architecture piqued her interest back then, so perhaps risking the trip could rekindle that spark.

Anything to become heiress again.

“Would Her Majesty allow me to tag along?” The designer asked.

“Of course, she always enjoys the extra company,” Wildberry Cookie reassured. “…And she’ll probably use this as an opportunity to get her hands on more strawberry juice.” The dread in his tone was apparent.

“Then I’ll be sure to procure House Strawberry’s finest bottle,” Strawberry Tea Cookie chuckled. “When are you two planning to depart?”

“A week from today.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie’s eyes widened in surprise. A week? There’s no way she could arrange travel plans that quickly, even with the help of the Strawberry Estate staff.

“I’m aware it’s rather last minute,” the retainer admitted. “But don’t worry, I will make sure accommodations are arranged for you when we arrive.”

“Thank you,” the designer smiled, bowing her head towards Wildberry Cookie in gratitude. “Then I suppose I shall start packing.”

[muiitoloko]

Halo! sorry if I bother you, I just want to know if the Eli X daughter reader has a part 3? because first and second parts already broke me and now I want to know what happened to the reader and Eli also I'm really angry with Barkley 😭

If there is a part 3, take your time ok! Bye bye!

Title: Unspoken Words.

Summary: Many things remain unsaid in your new reality.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson & Daughter! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Envy and secrets.

Author's Notes: Hey there! No bother at all, I’m always happy to chat! 😄 As for Eli X daughter reader, a part 3 is definitely on the horizon. I know Barkley is the worst, right? He’s making everyone’s blood boil! 😭 So stay tuned—I promise more drama and hopefully some resolution are coming your way soon! Thanks for your enthusiasm! 🌟

First, Second and Third part here.

Also read on Ao3

You looked out the window, observing the landscape outside the school windows. It had been a week since you had returned to school, a week of receiving pitying looks as you feared. Confined to a chair, unable to play or even write like the rest of the class, Eli and Sarah had hired a teacher and caregiver who would take care of you at school and help you with your studies. She practically did everything for you while you just talked, unable to move your limbs. You hated it. You hated all of it. You didn't want to go back to school, being isolated and watching others run and play while you were alone, with Barkley teasing you. It was all so stressful.

The teacher then announced that there would be a new student in the class and that everyone should welcome him. You watched as a short, hazel-eyed, blond boy carrying a backpack introduced himself to the class, looking quite cheerful and dorky.

"Hi everyone, my name is Sinclair Bryant, but you can all call me Clair," he said with a bright smile. "I just moved here from London, and I love reading comic books, playing video games, and collecting action figures. Oh, and my favorite superhero is Spider-Man because he's super cool and always saves the day!"

He continued to chatter excitedly, sharing more about his hobbies and interests. "I also love science, especially chemistry! My dad used to take me to science museums all the time. And did I mention I have a pet lizard named Spike? He's awesome!"

The teacher had to interrupt him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Sinclair. We're happy to have you here. Everyone, please make Clair feel welcome."

As Sinclair took his seat, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy and sadness. Here was someone who seemed so full of life and excitement, while you felt trapped in your own body, burdened by your condition.

During recess, you watched as Sinclair made his way over to a group of kids, striking up conversations and making friends with ease. He seemed to fit in so naturally, his laughter and enthusiasm infectious. You sighed, turning your gaze back to the window, feeling a sense of isolation wash over you.

That comic event had ruined everything. If only the Spider-Man statue hadn't fallen on you, you wouldn't be quadriplegic. You hated the convention, the statue, and the superhero himself for bringing you to this point.

Your caregiver, Mrs. Watson, gently tried to coax you into eating your snack. "Come on, [Your Name], you need to eat something," she urged softly, holding out a piece of fruit.

You turned your head away, refusing to open your mouth. "I'm not hungry," you muttered, your voice tinged with frustration.

Mrs. Watson sighed, a look of concern crossing her face. "I'll go get a bottle of water. I'll be right back, okay?" she said, giving your shoulder a gentle pat before walking away.

You ignored her, continuing to gaze out the window, lost in your thoughts. Moments later, Sinclair Bryant, the new boy, approached you with a curious look in his hazel eyes.

"Hey there," Sinclair began, his voice bright and cheerful. "Why aren't you eating your snack? I would never waste food!"

You turned to look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. He seemed completely oblivious to your mood as he continued to babble on about food. "I love snacks. My favorite is chocolate chip cookies. What's yours?" he asked, shifting topics so quickly it made your head spin.

The bitterness in your heart grew, and you looked away, not wanting to engage. But Sinclair's next question caught you off guard.

"Do you like Spider-Man?" he asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

"I don't," you replied bitterly, your voice cold. "I hate him."

But Sinclair didn't seem to hear the disdain in your tone. Instead, his gaze shifted to your electric wheelchair, his curiosity piqued. "Whoa, that's a cool wheelchair!" he exclaimed, leaning in closer to get a better look. "How does it work?"

His enthusiasm and ignorance about your pain only made you feel worse. Here was this boy, full of life and curiosity, unable to understand the weight of your suffering. "It's not a toy," you snapped, your voice laced with anger. "I need it because I can't move."

Sinclair's face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered, a determined look in his eyes. "Well, it must be really handy to get around in," he said, trying to find a positive spin. "I bet you can go super fast in it!"

You glared at him, wishing he would just go away. But Sinclair's relentless optimism made it clear he wasn't leaving anytime soon. "I know it must be tough," he said more softly, his tone surprisingly earnest. "But if you ever want to talk about comic books or anything, I'm here."

You stared at him, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor. There was something genuine in his eyes that made you pause. Despite your bitterness, you couldn't help but feel a tiny flicker of warmth at his words. Maybe, just maybe, not everyone would treat you with pity or scorn.

After a moment of awkward silence, Sinclair walked away, his curiosity still lingering. As he returned to the group of new classmates, he couldn't help but glance back at you, seeing the sadness in your eyes as you stared out the window.

"Hey, who is she?" He asked one of the boys, nodding in your direction.

The boy, eager to share the latest gossip, leaned in and whispered, "That's [Your Name] Michaelson. She's Barkley's twin sister."

Another girl chimed in, her voice tinged with pity, "Yeah, she's crippled. My mom said it's the worst thing that could happen to someone, not being able to move."

The kids continued to gossip, their voices low but filled with speculation and sympathy. Sinclair, however, tuned them out. His eyes were fixed on you, observing the way the sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on your hair and making your eyes shine. In that moment, he thought you looked beautiful, despite the sadness etched into your features.

Sinclair made up his mind right then and there. He decided he was going to be your friend, no matter what. You needed someone who didn't see you as a burden or an object of pity, and Sinclair felt he could be that person.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of recess, Sinclair approached you once more. This time, he wore a determined expression. "Hey, [Your Name]," he said softly, his voice gentle and sincere. "I know things are tough right now, but if you ever want to talk about comic books, or just anything, I'm here. And... I think Spider-Man is pretty cool, but maybe we can find another hero that you like."

You didn't respond, but Sinclair wasn't deterred. He gave you a small, encouraging smile before heading back to class, already planning ways to make you smile. He was determined to break through the walls you had built around yourself and show you that you didn't have to face this new reality alone.

As the school day ended, you navigated your electric wheelchair toward the exit, Mrs. Watson walking alongside you. The routine was familiar by now, but it didn't make it any easier. You were already dreading the evening ahead, knowing it would be another night of frustration and resentment.

Just as you reached the school entrance, you heard a voice calling out, "Hey, wait up!" You turned slightly, recognizing Sinclair Bryant running toward you, his backpack bouncing on his back. Mrs. Watson paused, giving Sinclair a polite smile as he approached.

"Hello, Mrs. Watson," Sinclair greeted warmly before turning his attention to you. "Hey, [Your Name]. I wanted to ask you something."

You looked at him with a mix of curiosity and irritation. "What do you want, Bryant?" you asked, your tone clipped.

Sinclair's smile didn't falter. "I was wondering if you wanted to be friends with me. I think we could have a lot of fun together."

You felt a surge of bitterness well up inside you. "No," you replied flatly, already starting to move your wheelchair again.

But Sinclair wasn't easily deterred. He trotted alongside you, talking a mile a minute. "Oh, come on, being friends with me has lots of perks! I love comic books, so we could talk about our favorite heroes. And I have a pet lizard named Spike, who's really cool. Plus, my dad takes me to science museums all the time, and I could tell you all about the stuff I see there. And I'm really good at video games, so I could teach you some tricks!"

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how his enthusiasm never wavered. He genuinely seemed to enjoy talking, filling every silence with his animated chatter. Despite yourself, you found a tiny part of you appreciating his persistence, even if you didn't want to admit it.

"We're friends now, you know," Sinclair insisted, a confident grin spreading across his face. "Whether you like it or not, I'm going to be around."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help a small smile from tugging at your lips. Sinclair's energy was infectious, even if you weren't ready to admit it.

As you reached the school entrance, Sinclair suddenly stopped talking. His eyes lit up as he spotted someone waiting for him – a well-dressed man standing beside a sleek car. "There's my butler!" Sinclair exclaimed happily. He turned back to you, his smile even brighter. "See you tomorrow, pretty girl!" With that, he dashed off, his backpack swinging wildly behind him.

Mrs. Watson looked down at you with a soft smile. "He seems like a good boy, [Your Name]. Full of energy and kindness."

You huffed irritably, turning your gaze away. "He's just feeling sorry for me," you muttered, unwilling to acknowledge the warmth Sinclair's words had stirred within you.

As you and Mrs. Watson made your way to your own car, you couldn't help but replay Sinclair's words in your mind. Maybe, just maybe, his offer of friendship wasn't solely out of pity. But for now, you weren't ready to let your guard down. The walls around your heart remained firmly in place, even as a small crack of hope began to form

Meanwhile, on the way home, Sinclair chatted animatedly with his butler, James, who was driving the sleek car through the busy streets.

"So, Master Clair, how was your first day at the new school?" James asked, glancing at Sinclair through the rearview mirror.

Sinclair's cheerful demeanor dimmed slightly. "It was okay, I guess. I don't like it that we're always moving around. It's hard to make new friends when you're constantly changing schools."

James nodded understandingly. "I know it's tough, Master Clair. But your father did say this would be the last time, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did," Sinclair replied with a sigh. "I hope he means it this time."

"Did you make any new friends today?" James inquired, trying to lift Sinclair's spirits.

Sinclair's face brightened again. "Yes, I did! I made a few friends, and there's this one girl... she's really pretty. We're friends now."

James smiled knowingly, catching Sinclair's excitement in the rearview mirror. "Oh, really? What's her name?"

"[Your Name]," Sinclair said with a big grin. "But... there's something different about her. She's in a wheelchair."

James's expression softened as he continued to drive. "Is she now? That must be challenging for her."

Sinclair nodded, his enthusiasm undiminished. "Yeah, I heard some kids saying she's... quadriplegic," he said, stumbling slightly over the word.

James glanced back at Sinclair, his curiosity piqued. "Quadriplegic, you say? Do you know what that means, Master Sinclair?"

Sinclair shook his head, looking a bit puzzled. "Not really. What does it mean, James?"

James took a moment to think, choosing his words carefully. "Well, Sinclair, being quadriplegic means that she can't move her arms or legs. It's usually due to a serious injury to her spinal cord. It can make life very difficult, but it doesn't change who she is as a person."

Sinclair's eyes widened with a mix of understanding and sadness. "Oh, that's really tough. No wonder she seemed so sad. But I still want to be her friend. Maybe I can help her feel better."

James smiled warmly at Sinclair's determination. "That's a wonderful attitude to have, Master Sinclair. I'm sure she could use a friend like you. Just remember to be kind and patient. Sometimes people need a little extra time to open up when they're going through something difficult."

Sinclair nodded earnestly. "I will, James. I promise. I want her to know that she's not alone and that she can still have fun and be happy."

As they continued their journey home, Sinclair's mind was filled with thoughts of how he could be a good friend to you, determined to bring some joy and comfort into your life despite the challenges you faced

Meanwhile, at your own home, Eli welcomed you and Barkley, saying goodbye to Mrs. Watson as she left for the day. He greeted you both warmly, his eyes filled with concern as he asked about your school day. Barkley eagerly began to recount his adventures, his voice full of excitement, but you remained silent, ignoring your father and avoiding his gaze.

"Go wash your hands, Barkley," Eli instructed, his tone gentle but firm. Barkley obeyed quickly, running up the stairs to his bedroom. Meanwhile, you pressed the button on your wheelchair and navigated through the house to your bedroom, which was now separate from your brother's. Since Barkley's bedroom was upstairs and you couldn't go there alone, your new room was downstairs, converted from Eli's old office.

Eli followed you into your bedroom, his expression filled with a mix of determination and sadness. He knelt beside your wheelchair, helping you take off your sneakers with practiced care. "Mrs. Watson told me you didn't want to eat again today," he said softly, his voice tinged with worry.

You remained silent, staring straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him. Eli's heart ached at your stubborn refusal to engage with him. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his frustration in check. "Sweetheart, I know this is hard for you," he continued, his voice gentle but firm. "But you need to eat to stay strong. We want to help you, but we can't do that if you don't take care of yourself."

You turned your head away, the silence between you stretching uncomfortably. Eli reached out to gently touch your shoulder, his fingers trembling slightly. "Please, [Your Name]," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Talk to me. Let me help you."

But you remained resolute, your eyes fixed on the wall as you shut him out. Eli sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his own helplessness. He stood up slowly, his mind racing with thoughts of how to break through the barrier you had built around yourself.

"I'll be right back with dinner," he said quietly, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and sadness. "I hope you'll join us at the table."

As Eli left your room, his heart heavy with the pain of your silence, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and regret. He vowed to find a way to reach you, to show you that you were not alone in this struggle. But for now, all he could do was hope that one day, you would let him back into your world.

Eli moved to the kitchen, his mind a whirlwind of emotions as he prepared dinner for the children. The familiar tasks of washing vegetables, boiling water, and setting the table offered a brief respite from the turmoil in his heart. He meticulously prepared each dish, making sure everything was just right. Barkley, already seated at the table, was eagerly flipping through his comic book, his excitement bubbling over as he waited for Eli to join him.

Eli placed Barkley's plate in front of him and forced a smile. "Here you go, champ," he said, his voice warm despite his inner turmoil. Barkley looked up, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

"Dad, can I tell you about this cool comic I read today?" Barkley asked, his voice brimming with excitement. "It's about a hero who—"

"Sure, buddy," Eli interrupted, nodding as he set the table. "I'd love to hear about it."

Though Eli didn't understand the appeal of superheroes, he was grateful for the distraction Barkley provided. He listened intently, trying to keep up with the details, even if they felt foreign to him. The animated way Barkley described the hero's adventures was a stark contrast to the heavy silence that often surrounded his interactions with you.

As he finished setting the table, Eli called you to dinner. The soft hum of your electric wheelchair grew louder as you navigated into the dining room. The sound was a constant reminder of the changes in your life, a reminder that cut through Eli every time he heard it.

You approached the table, and Eli quickly moved to help you get settled. He placed your plate in front of you and took his seat next to you, ready to assist with feeding you. Your eyes, still avoiding his, were focused on your plate.

Eli hesitated, his heart aching as he watched you struggle with your emotions. "Mom's working late tonight," he said gently, anticipating your question. "She’ll be home later."

You nodded slightly, acknowledging his answer but remaining silent. Eli’s heart clenched at your reticence. He knew that mealtime was often a battleground, a time when your frustration and resentment surfaced most strongly.

Across the table, Barkley continued to chatter enthusiastically about his comic book, oblivious to the tension between you and Eli. "And then the hero used his super strength to lift this huge truck! It was so cool!"

Eli forced a smile, trying to engage with Barkley's excitement. "That does sound pretty amazing, Barkley," he said, though his attention kept drifting back to you. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness as he watched you silently chew your food, refusing to meet his gaze.

Desperate to include you in the conversation, Eli tried to bridge the gap. "So, [Your Name], anything interesting happen at school today?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and anxiety.

You remained silent, your expression closed off. Eli's smile faltered, his frustration mounting. He didn’t want to push you, but the constant silence was wearing on him. "Come on, sweetheart," he urged softly. "You can tell me anything."

Your jaw tightened, a flicker of anger passing over your face. You looked up briefly, your eyes meeting Eli's with a mixture of defiance and hurt. "Nothing happened," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just leave me alone."

Eli's heart sank, a wave of frustration crashing over him. He clenched his fists under the table, struggling to keep his emotions in check. "I'm just trying to help," he said, his voice strained. "I want to know what's going on in your life."

You turned your head away, refusing to engage. The silence stretched painfully, the tension thickening in the air. Eli's frustration simmered beneath the surface as he attempted to focus on feeding you. The silence between you grew heavier with each passing moment, making the simple act of eating feel like an insurmountable task.

Barkley, sensing the tension but too caught up in his excitement to fully grasp its gravity, interrupted eagerly. "Dad, there's a new kid in our class!" he announced, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. "His name is Sinclair Bryant, and he's really cool. He likes comics too, and guess what? His favorite hero is—"

"Enough, Barkley!" Eli snapped, his voice sharp and cutting off his son mid-sentence. Barkley recoiled slightly, confusion and hurt flickering across his face. Eli immediately regretted his harsh tone but couldn't bring himself to apologize. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "Let's not talk about heroes right now, okay? Let's just focus on dinner."

Barkley nodded reluctantly, his excitement dimming as he returned to his meal. Eli turned his attention back to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and frustration. He carefully scooped up a spoonful of food, bringing it to your lips. "Come on, sweetheart," he urged softly, trying to keep his voice steady. "You need to eat something."

You turned your head away, your expression hardening. "I'm not hungry," you muttered, your voice barely audible. The defiance in your tone only fueled Eli's growing frustration.

Eli's patience, already frayed, snapped under the weight of your rejection. He grabbed your chin firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he forced you to look at him. His eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and desperation. "You will eat," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I’m tired of this. I’ve tried to be patient, but I can't take it anymore. I won't let you destroy yourself. You’ll eat, even if I have to shove the food down your throat."

Your eyes widened in shock and fear, tears spilling over as you struggled to free your chin from his grip. "I hate you!" you cried, your voice breaking with emotion. "I hate you, Daddy!"

Eli's heart clenched painfully at your words, but he didn't release his hold. His grip tightened slightly, his frustration and helplessness boiling over. "Hate me all you want," he snapped, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. "But I won't let you waste away. You need to eat, and you will eat."

The tears streamed down your cheeks as you continued to struggle, your small body shaking with sobs. The sight of your distress cut Eli deeply, but he forced himself to hold firm. He knew he had to be strong, even if it meant being the villain in your eyes.

"Please, sweetheart," Eli murmured, his voice softening slightly as he tried to rein in his anger. "I just want to help you. I don't want to see you suffer like this."

You continued to cry, your sobs echoing through the room as you finally stopped struggling, defeated by your own helplessness. Eli's grip on your chin loosened, and he carefully brought the spoon to your lips once more.

"Open your mouth," he instructed gently, his voice strained with emotion. "Please, just a little bit. For me."

With tears still streaming down your face, you reluctantly opened your mouth, allowing him to feed you. Eli's heart ached with a mixture of relief and sorrow as you finally took a bite, your small frame trembling with the effort.

Eli continued to feed you in silence, his own tears threatening to spill over as he struggled to maintain his composure. Each bite felt like a victory tinged with defeat, a painful reminder of the gulf that had grown between you.

Across the table, Barkley watched in silence, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion. The usually lively dinner table had become a battleground, and the weight of the unspoken tensions hung heavily in the air.

As Eli finished feeding you, he set the spoon down with a shaky hand, his heart heavy with the weight of your words. He reached out to gently wipe away your tears, his touch tender despite the turmoil in his heart.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I just... I can't stand to see you like this."

You turned your head away, the pain and anger still etched into your features. Eli's heart ached with the realization that his attempts to help had only driven a deeper wedge between you. As he sat back in his chair, the silence between you stretched unbearably, a chasm of pain and regret that seemed impossible to bridge.

In that moment, Eli felt the full weight of his failure as a father, his heart breaking under the strain of your suffering. He had wanted to protect you, to shield you from the harsh realities of the world, but in his desperation, he had only succeeded in pushing you further away.

As the darkness of the evening settled around them, Eli could only hope that someday, somehow, he would find a way to reach you, to heal the wounds that had been inflicted by the cruel hand of fate. But for now, all he could do was hold on to the fragile thread of hope that bound you together, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.

Later that evening, the house was cloaked in the quiet calm that settled after dinner. Eli carefully navigated you from the living room to your bedroom, your electric wheelchair gliding smoothly across the polished floors. The day had taken its toll, and you were visibly weary. He gently helped you into bed, tucking the blankets around you with a tenderness that belied the day's frustrations.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Eli whispered, his voice tinged with exhaustion and sorrow as he kissed your forehead.

You stared at the ceiling, your eyes betraying the turmoil within, but you didn't respond. Eli sighed softly, standing up and turning off the light, casting the room into a soft, comforting darkness.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Barkley was engrossed in his video game, his small hands deftly maneuvering the controller as he battled digital foes on the screen. The flashing lights and triumphant music filled the room, a stark contrast to the heavy silence in your bedroom.

Eli moved to the kitchen, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He started washing the dishes, the rhythmic sound of water and clinking cutlery providing a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos of his thoughts.

"Dad!" Barkley's voice called out from the living room, his tone eager and filled with anticipation. "Come play video games with me!"

Eli paused, his hands submerged in soapy water. He glanced toward the living room, feeling a pang of guilt at Barkley's request. "I don’t know how to play those games, Barkley," Eli called back, his voice tired but gentle.

Barkley’s face scrunched in disappointment as he peeked into the kitchen. "I can teach you, Dad. It’s really fun. Just give it a try."

Eli shook his head, his focus returning to the dishes. "Not tonight, Barkley. We can play something else later, okay?"

A frown creased Barkley's face, and he grumbled under his breath, his frustration bubbling over. "You'd play with me if I were the cripple."

Eli froze, his hands stilling in the sudsy water. The air seemed to crackle with tension as he slowly turned to face Barkley, his eyes wide with shock and anger. "What did you just say?" Eli's voice was low, trembling with restrained fury.

Barkley met his father's gaze defiantly, his small chin jutting out in stubborn resolve. "You always pay more attention to [Your Name]. Never to me. If I were the cripple, you'd play with me. But you don't care about me."

Eli's hands trembled as he set the dish aside, drying them hastily on a towel. He moved towards Barkley, his heart pounding with a mixture of disbelief and anger. "How dare you talk like that, Barkley?" Eli demanded, his voice a harsh whisper as he knelt to look his son in the eye. "Do you understand how hurtful that is? Your sister is going through something terrible, and she needs us."

Barkley's eyes glistened with unshed tears, his lips trembling as he tried to hold onto his defiance. "She’s always getting all the attention. I can run, I can play, but nobody cares about that! I hate her! I wish she would just go away!"

Eli felt as though the ground had shifted beneath him. His heart ached at Barkley's words, the raw emotion in his son's voice cutting through him like a knife. "Barkley," he began, his voice heavy with sorrow, "I know this is hard for you too. But wishing harm on your sister isn’t the answer. You have to understand, we love you both."

But Barkley's resentment only seemed to deepen. "You don’t get it, Dad. She takes everything! You never have time for me anymore. I wish she would die!"

Eli recoiled as if struck, his breath catching in his throat. The words echoed painfully in the quiet kitchen, hanging in the air like a dark cloud. "Enough!" Eli's voice broke, a mixture of anger and heartbreak etched into every syllable. "Go to your room. Now."

Barkley’s face crumpled, but he held his ground for a moment, his eyes flashing with a final spark of defiance. Then, with a choked sob, he turned and ran upstairs, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Eli stood frozen in the kitchen, his mind reeling with the weight of Barkley’s words. The dishes lay forgotten in the sink, the water growing cold as Eli grappled with the bitter reality of his son's resentment. The enormity of the situation pressed down on him, threatening to crush the fragile hope he clung to so desperately.

As the house settled into an uneasy silence, Eli's thoughts turned to you, lying alone in your room, and to Barkley, wrestling with his own tumultuous emotions upstairs. The fragile balance of their family had been shattered, and Eli could only wonder how they would ever find a way to heal the wounds that had torn them apart.

Sarah arrived home later that evening, her expression tense and her movements restless. Eli wasted no time in approaching her, his face etched with the weight of the day’s turmoil. He saw the briefcase she carried, a constant reminder of the hours she spent at work, and the exhaustion in her eyes mirrored his own.

"Sarah, did you find out anything?" Eli asked urgently, his voice filled with the desperate need for answers. He grasped her arm lightly, searching her face for any hint of hope. "Can we sue the organizers? They need to be held accountable for what happened to [Your Name]."

Sarah’s eyes darted away, and she hesitated, wringing her hands nervously. The soft light of the hallway cast long shadows across her face, accentuating her unease. She took a deep breath, her shoulders tense as she met Eli's gaze.

"Eli," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "I went to the convention center today. I spoke with their security team and asked to see the footage from the cameras." She paused, her eyes flickering with an emotion Eli couldn't quite place.

"And?" Eli pressed, his anxiety mounting as he watched her closely. "What did you find out? Can we hold them responsible for what happened to our daughter?"

Sarah swallowed hard, her hands twisting the strap of her purse. She took a step back, her eyes clouded with a mysterious, almost evasive look. "It’s not what we thought," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "The footage... it shows that [Your Name] caused the accident herself."

Eli's breath caught in his throat, and he stared at her in disbelief. "What do you mean?" he demanded, his voice rising with a mix of anger and confusion. "How could she cause her own accident? She’s just a child!"

Sarah flinched at his tone, her fingers tightening around the purse strap. She looked down, unable to meet his eyes as she spoke. "She was playing around the Spider-Man statue," she explained, her voice strained. "The footage shows her climbing on it, trying to... I don’t know, maybe get a better look or something. It wasn’t stable, and it fell."

Eli felt the ground shift beneath him, his mind reeling with the implications of her words. "No," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. "That can’t be right. [Your Name] wouldn’t do something like that. She’s careful, always has been."

"I know," Sarah said, her voice cracking with emotion. "But that’s what the footage shows, Eli. I watched it multiple times. It was an accident, but it was... it was her own doing." Her hands trembled, and she glanced around the room as if searching for something to ground her.

Eli staggered back, his legs threatening to give way as the weight of the revelation crushed him. He sank into a nearby chair, his head in his hands as he tried to process the news. The image of his daughter, broken and confined to a wheelchair, flashed before his eyes, and he felt a wave of grief and guilt wash over him.

"No," he murmured, his voice barely audible as he struggled to contain his tears. "I can’t believe this. It can’t be true."

Sarah approached him cautiously, her movements slow and deliberate. She reached out to touch his shoulder, her fingers cold against his skin. "I’m so sorry, Eli," she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet sorrow. "I know how hard this is to hear. But there’s no one to sue, no one to blame. It was just a terrible accident."

Eli looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and anguish. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat, strangled by the knot of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Sarah’s gaze was steady, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something Eli couldn’t quite identify.

"Why are you so nervous, Sarah?" he asked finally, his voice trembling with suspicion. "You’re not telling me everything, are you?"

Sarah’s eyes widened slightly, and she glanced away, her hands twisting in her lap. "I’m just... I’m worried about [Your Name]," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "This whole situation is tearing us apart, and I don’t know how to fix it."

Eli watched her closely, his mind racing with a thousand unanswered questions. He wanted to believe her, to find solace in her words, but a nagging doubt gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. There was something in her demeanor that didn’t quite add up, a shadow of unease that lingered just beneath the surface.

But Eli shook his head, his brow furrowing as he tried to recall the events of that day. “No, Sarah,” he said, his voice firm despite the tremor of doubt creeping in. “I remember clearly. She wasn’t climbing anything. She was sitting on the ground, playing with her Doctor Octopus doll. I had just left the diner and saw it happen. The statue fell on her while she was sitting on the floor, not climbing the statue.”

Sarah’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of panic flashing across her features before she quickly masked it. Her hands twisted the strap of her purse more tightly, her knuckles white. “Eli, you were so shaken that day,” she insisted, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to maintain her composure. “You don’t know what you were thinking. It was chaotic and traumatic. Maybe you just misremembered.”

Eli ran a hand through his hair, his confusion deepening as he tried to piece together the fragments of his memory. “I saw it, Sarah,” he repeated, his voice growing more uncertain. “I saw the statue fall on her. I don’t remember much else, just the pain and the sight of her bruised and broken...”

He trailed off, his eyes searching Sarah’s face for any sign of reassurance. But instead of comfort, he found only a deepening sense of unease. Sarah’s evasiveness, her refusal to meet his gaze, only heightened his suspicion that there was more to the story than she was letting on.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting around the room as if seeking an escape. “Eli, I know you’re struggling with this,” she said softly, her voice tinged with a mysterious, almost desperate urgency. “But you have to trust me. I watched the footage myself. There’s no one else to blame. It was just a tragic accident.”

Eli felt a cold knot of doubt twist in his stomach. His own memories were hazy, clouded by the overwhelming shock and grief of that day. He remembered the statue falling, the sickening thud as it struck you, and the sight of your small, bruised body beneath the wreckage. But beyond that, everything was a blur of pain and confusion.

He looked at Sarah, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read the expression on her face. “Why are you so nervous, Sarah?” he asked, his voice low and probing. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Sarah’s eyes flickered with a momentary flash of guilt, but she quickly averted her gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m just worried about [Your Name],” she repeated, her voice trembling slightly. “This whole situation is tearing us apart, Eli. We need to focus on helping her, not on dredging up painful memories.”

Eli clenched his fists, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. He wanted to believe Sarah, to trust that she was telling him the truth. But the nagging doubt in the back of his mind refused to be silenced. Something about her demeanor, the way she avoided his gaze, made him question everything he thought he knew.

“I’m going to get some air,” Eli muttered, his voice tight with frustration as he turned away from Sarah and headed for the door. “I need to clear my head.”

As he stepped outside, the cool evening air washed over him, providing a brief respite from the turmoil churning inside him. He leaned against the railing, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting memories and emotions. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something crucial he was missing, some piece of the puzzle that had yet to fall into place.

Meanwhile, inside the house, Sarah sank into a chair, her hands trembling as she clutched her purse. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with the fear that Eli was getting too close to the truth. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself as she tried to think of a way to keep her secrets hidden.

Unbeknownst to both of them, Barkley stood at the top of the stairs, his small frame hidden in the shadows as he listened to their conversation. His eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and guilt, his heart pounding as he replayed the events of that fateful day in his mind.

He had been jealous, consumed by the belief that you always stole Eli’s attention. In a fit of anger and resentment, he had pushed the Spider-Man statue, not realizing the terrible consequences his actions would have. And now, as he watched his parents struggle with their own confusion and grief, Barkley’s guilt gnawed at him, a silent, unbearable weight he carried alone.

As Eli stood outside, lost in thought, and Sarah grappled with her own fears inside, Barkley retreated to his room, his mind swirling with the realization that the truth he held could shatter their family even further. And in the quiet darkness of the house, the weight of that secret hung heavy, casting a long shadow over them all.

[totallyradicalmucky]

Party bus

I just graduated and I felt kinda off. So I wrote this to help me cool down. Lol so sorry if it’s like weird in some places idk. I usually just write to get a thought out of my head

The frat alien bus was absolutely bumping with loud, obnoxious music and overwhelming amounts of lights.

A conversation hardly overheard by the Milkshake who was currently on his fourth non-alcoholic drink of the night, (which he called so confidently dubbed his beer- despite being clearly sober) he staggered from the front of the bus yelling an obscenity backwards, to nobody in particular and spilling his drink on himself. Turning around to look at the drunken frat aliens…and of course the only brother who he could convince to come with him on this, Meatwad. Who was disgustingly soggy with tears and looking like a lost child, whining every time the frat aliens laughed.

Shake was silent for a moment when the aliens mentioned him by name, still waving his drink around nonchalantly and averting his eyes from the obvious. He heard them cackle, and gritted his teeth internally. Only having the balls to give a glance in their direction before he leans towards Meatwad, trying to act at least a little cool while he’s worried. Not that he’d admit that.

“Hey- you uh y’ alright there?”

Meatwad blinks, and there’s a sticky, wet sound that makes Shake cringe. He looks innocently up at Shake and a sad look on his face. The Milkshake feels himself soften a little.

“They..they uh..in-insulted me..by sayin’ sayin that..the that there public schools aren’t important compared to them private and them..those boarding schools.”

Shake looks at his brother confused.

“What? We never went to school at all- so, it should be fine!”

“But- but the kids that do, they did go to that public schools. And they’re important Shake. And now there’s no reason to call them..uh unimportant. That’s just plain ol mean. Wes all equal, brother.”

The milkshake sighs, still just as confused and if not a bit frustrated now. Looking back at the Frat aliens who had come to some divine revelation at that, and committed group suicide. Leaving the bus slowly rolling to a bloody halt, and the two brothers alone in their unintended blood fest. He rolls his eyes, hearing the bus finally coming to a stop as the music stops. Meatwad looks around awkwardly, looking as if he’s back to normal- now just soggy from crying. Shake goes to open the bus doors, yelling for Meatwad to follow him as he throws his empty solo cup over the meatball’s head.

“Hey stinkball! Party’s over, let’s go home and nap so we can max out on our hangovers! And totally piss off Frylock while doin it!”

Of course, Meatwad rolls along with him.

“That’s a gooood idea man- we could also, also..also- .See if…that big ol garden spider is in that one part of the.. umm basement and scare.. Frylock with it.”

“No i’m not doing that. That sucks.”

“Aw.. well I thought it was a pretty fun idea.”

(They did do that.)

[mostlymaudlin]

one thing ive been spinning around my head lately is that my birth name doesn’t have to die. i totally get why people call it a deadname, but i think i don’t mind if mine lives a bit? perhaps in a perfect world id kill it, but ive never been good at imagining utopia, and i think that it’s easier for me to let that name stick around in a sidecar than it would be to try to lose it.