#because all that came out of the faucet was paint

[anormalkidingotham]

can the joker just get some new ideas already? i mean, really? the water supplies again? he could at least find new stuff to poison, this is really getting annoying

[babygirl-riley]

Daddy’s Gonna Buy You a Mockingbird

When coming home Simon hears his daughter start to fuss.

Warnings: angst, mentions of childhood trauma, fluff, swearing, Dad!Simon

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

Simon was fucking tired, the mission was long and difficult. It took them 4 months to plan the fucker just for the target to know their every move. He lost lots of men and women those nights, they had to camp somewhere in the middle of the desert cause transportation got fucked.

He unlocked the door of his home and walked in. Immediately he heard the whimpering. Simon heard you trying to lullaby both of your toddler. Simon was told that she has been sick for almost 4 days. It was teething that led to two ear infections. His poor angel was getting her ass jumped left and right with them infections.

He took his mask and boots off leaving them on the shelf near the door. He locked the door as he made his way through the hallway. When getting closer he heard you sniffling. “I don’t know what to do baby girl,” The toddler cried harder as you cried with her. “I am sorry. What do you need baby?”

Simon tapped the door making you jump. At first you thought you were going to fight but then relief came through. “Simon,” You started to sob. “Just take a shower and I will be there in minute.”

“I can take her.” He said walking fully in.

“No,” You wiped your tears quickly before shaking your head. “It’s fine you just got home. Please just take a shower love.”

Simon nodded, he didn’t want to but he could tell if he didn’t you would burst. He saw the dark circles under your eyes, how red your eyes were. You haven’t gotten any sleep. That tugged at his best strings, you have been dealing with this all by yourself so he wants to be able to help you.

Simon quickly got into the shower, washing all the paint, blood, sweat, and dirt from him. He waited for a moment before turning the faucet off and get out. He heard your sobs once more as he wrapped the towel around himself. Opening the door that showed you laying on your side curled up. Simon walked up to you and sat next to your body. He placed a hand on your hip rubbing circles.

“Not the best welcome home,” You sighed turning to face him. “Im sorry.”

“For what love? Taking care of our child? Don’t ever apologize for that.” He reassured, basically whispering.

“Just me crying and Im so fucking tried. She doesn’t sleep nothing longer than maybe 5 minutes before she is screaming. And I wanted to give you a warmer welcome and instead buzzed you off and…”

“Thats enough sweethear’ it has been a long week for you,” He got up to grab sweatpants and went around to his side to pull the blankets up and over him. You watched as he laid and scooted closer to you wrapping his arm around you. “Come ‘ere, get some sleep my dove.”

He doesn’t remember when you fell asleep or even him. Simon heard the soft whimpers start, you didn’t move and he was glad that you didn’t. He was also very happy that you moved out of his grasp while in your sleep. Simon carefully and quietly headed out of the room. Rubbing his tired eyes as he made it to his daughter’s room.

When he approached the room there she was. Standing up in her crib crying, once her eyes landed on his she cried harder. “Daddy.” She called a couple of times.

“Alright princess, you’re alright daddy’s here.” He said picking her up.

It took him a back of how hot she is, sweat gripping her pjs. Her crying increasing as she gripped onto his shoulder. “Shhh I know,” He said bouncing up and down. “I know baby.”

He felt her diaper and walked to the changing table, which to her was a sin. When he placed her down she screamed a bit, immediately he gently placed a palm on her chest. Putting small pressure. She stopped screaming as she still cried. His daughter loved when he did that when she wanted to be cuddled yet when he had to do certain things like this.

Because of how many times he has done this with her, he one handed did the diaper. He left her only in her diaper, get some air to her skin due to sweating and her being hot. As she still cried, he picked her up and lead out of the room walking to the kitchen. “Let’s try a warm bottle and me a tea yeah?” He said quietly, holding her close as she still cried.

While working on the bottle he rocked back and forth waiting for the teapot to heat up. He wrapped both of his arms around her holding her more close. “I’m ‘orry my birdie, teeth are arseholes. I know.”

She held around his neck placing her head down on his shoulder. Simon kept holding on until the smallest noise came from the pot. He didn’t want to wake you, he was even surprised you haven’t woke up yet. His daughter became more whimpering than crying.

He poured his mug first so the water could cool down just a bit more. Then poured water into her bottle. He made his tea before finish making her bottle. Afterward he walked to the living room and placed the tv on. Miss Rachel was her favorite to watch lately, that’s what you mentioned.

He placed her forward towards the tv as he placed his mug on the side table. Simon held her close to him as she drank her bottle. Rubbing her belly as he watched the show with her. He hated this woman, just found her annoying, you mentioned to him that it was her job to do that fake high pitch thing. To him it just made him want to mute it and never see it again.

His daughter leaned closer to him as he sipped his tea. She sniffled and hiccuped due to crying the whole time. He smoothed her thick blonde hair back, making her eyes roll. Another thing she gets from him. People massaging his scalp or play with his hair he would pass out from.

After three videos both Simon and her were laying on the couch. He had her on his chest with a blanket on both of them. “Shh I know,” He said as she started to whimper again. “Daddy is here, don’t worry. He will stay. I would do anythin’ for you not to be in this pain.”

She sucked on her binki her eyes rolling fighting sleep. Yet another thing she got from him. Fighting sleep. Simon remembered when you told him you were pregnant with her. He was terrified. Scared that he wouldn’t be good to her, that he would turn into his own father.

Simon actually left for hours from the house making you think that it was a bad idea to tell him. Until he came back in tears, first time you seen him break down. Telling you his fears and worries. You would comfort him and hold him that he has never been an ounce of his father. Never be like him.

Simon remembered when he asked for his dad to hold him. His dad told him to stop being a child, to grow up. Or even watch him cry in pain and laugh at the fact he was crying. He even remember Tommy being hit for even mentioning that his throat hurt. Telling him that is something to be crying about when he was hurt.

Because of those memories he was going on for months in his mind that he didn’t believed that, didn’t believe that he would be a good father, it wasn’t until she was born. When he held her in his big hands. He knew that this was the opportunity to not be his low life father. And yet here he was being not that, his father would have never been comforting him when he was sick. Holding him. Loving him. He was grateful to be able to be here for her. For you. To show the love and care that he wanted to.

Simon sighed as he felt her breathing slow down, falling into deep sleep. He settled more down into the couch as he closed his eyes, holding on to his princess.

You woke up with the sun beaming into the room. You groaned as you placed a hand to where Simon would have been. It was cold. You opened your eyes and frowned. Was a dream that he was home? You sighed getting up and heading to your daughter’s room. For it to be empty too.

You walked around the house figuring out where the hell was your daughter. Which when you heard Miss Rachel on the tv and two figures on the couch. It made your heart swell. You walked to around to face both your daughter clinging onto her father. Simon softly snoring and his daughter as well. You forget how similar they look.

The soft features of when they slept. Their hair. Their nose. You also noticed that she was just in her diaper and didn’t look sweaty. You inhaled deeply feeling a bit of relief. Hopefully that means that her temperature went down and back to normal.

You smiled thinking about the time where you were almost about to pop. Simon holding your tummy telling your daughter that he will protect her with every ounce of his being. Not matter where or what she is doing, he will be there. You would play with his hair as he rubbed your tummy, feeling her move every time he would place a hand on your tummy.

You grabbed both bottle and mug, walking back to the kitchen. “Definitely going to be a daddy’s girl.” You whispered, starting to make breakfast for your perfect family.

[runawayolives]

So for baby daddy Nate: when they are older and married reader can't handle anymore and they both fight she ask for divorce but the kid hear it.? Hope you write about this.

This isn't canon, I think.

This belongs to Baby Daddy.

"I think we should get a divorce."

"What?"

"I said that I think we should get a divorce."

"I heard you the first time."

The Jacobs' household was soaked in silence, the two young adults in the kitchen after setting their kid to bed. Nate was sitting on the armchair near the kitchen island, while she was cleaning the remaining of dinner. He stood up, walking towards his wife, invading her personal space.

"Can I know where this is coming from?" The faucet had been dripping for a bit, probably because it knew breaking the silence was its new task.

"I don't think we need to be married." Her hand was gripping a damp towel, hyper-focusing in a little circle of coffee from that morning. "We aren't a married couple, we're just two adults living in a house and raising a child."

"Who's fault is that?"

"Don't blame me." The circle was finally gone. "You were the one who married a woman who never wanted you." Their eyes met for the fist time since they put their child to bed.

"Don't say that shit."

"Mommy? Daddy? I'm thirsty." Both young adults turned around to look at the small figure standing by the hallway. The way they were gripping the doorway and their half hidden body proved that the child had been there for longer.

"Mommy will get you some." Quickly she turned around to fill a plastic cup with water. "Here hon. Do you need help going back to bed?"

"I want daddy to do it." Those big brown eyes were too hard to deny, making Nate walk forward.

"Come on, Jojo, I'll read you another story." He lifted his child to his hip, somehow still dwarfing the child, as if they hadn't grown since they were still a baby.

"Goodnight mommy."

"Goodnight, baby."

The staircase was full of picture frames of the young family, at the park, the zoo, on christmas. Endless memories that his stupid wife wanted to throw away because she was a quitter and a coward.

"What were you and mommy talking about?"

"Nothing you have to worry about."

"You were mad. Is mommy in trouble? Should she sit on the step?" Jojo was the most terrifying child Nate had ever met. The big eyes, the big cheeks and their calm nature made them look like a small victorian child that had seen too much. Jojo had a normal childhood, two parents that loved them, friends, and two set of grandparents that spoiled the kid a bit too much. Normal, very normal child.

Nate thought all the weird things that came out of Jojo were her fault. She burdened their child, he knew it. Jojo played like any other kid, Jojo had the same taste buds as any other kid. But Jojo asked uncomfortable questions and would stare at you for a bit too long, as if the five year-old was trying to figure you out.

She spent too much time raising the child, got bored because she's a stupid selfish bitch and decided to treat Jojo like an adult. Too many books, too many paintings and too many museums.

Jojo loved their mom, and Nate was envious. Not because Jojo didn't love Nate, but because looking at them proved what relationships between mother and child could be. Martha hadn't been present, she was home, and she picked him up from school, but his dad was the one in charge of raising him.

Seeing Jojo and Y/N somehow was the Universe or whatever entity rubbing it his face. You had the potential for having this, but you didn't.

The white walls of his kid's room were covered in little scribbles on the wall, something they hadn't bothered in correcting as long as it was only in these walls. The dinosaur lamp was still on, spreading the room in the light green light. Some story books were laying on the ground, and some books. Original versions of classics such as Little Women and To kill a mockingbird laid besides The very humgry caterpillar and The Giving tree.

During the walk up and the small back rubs Nate was giving Jojo, the five-year old had fallen asleep, long eyelashes tickling their cheeks. The toddler was set on the brand new ocean life bed sheets, their latest obsession, and immediately started hugging the handmade-crochet whale they had made with their mom's help.

After setting the kid to sleep and kissing their small forehead, Nate went downstairs. His wife was were he left her, this time with a mug between her hands.

"If you think I'll give you a divorce and let you separate me from my son, you're way stupider than I thought."

[lovebugism]

sleepover !! on the plane of dad!steve: what about steve finding out reader’s pregnant? they’re young enough for it to be a shock, but established relationship or casual hookup is up to you

i hereby name this the first installment of my dad!steve blurb series: the "crazy little thing called love" universe <3

By all accounts, you and Steve did everything right.

Sure, you got married pretty young, but after surviving the end of the world four separate times, you thought you were deserving of the rapid elopement. You moved into a little apartment outside of town shortly after, working like dogs until you could afford a down payment on one of those pretty houses people put in magazines. 

Neither of you minded that it was in the middle of the suburbs — that it was “expected” of the Harringtons to live within white picket fences. You were just grateful you didn’t have to live in his vacant childhood home that his parents were kind enough to offer as a present for a wedding they didn’t attend. Steve was more than happy to let the place rot. 

It takes your entire first year of marriage to fully decorate the place. 

The pool in the backyard is lined with white and yellow striped lounge chairs. The living room is more plants than furniture. The kitchen cabinets are painted green to match the tile in the bathroom. And the bedroom’s got a gallery of photos of the both of you on one side and a floor-to-ceiling bookcase on the other — Steve stores his vinyls on the upper shelves and you stash your books on the lower ones.

You’re finally getting settled into your new life in your new house when you realize your period is late.

By two weeks, to be exact.

You don’t even realize it until you’re grocery shopping. 

Steve mans the cart while you strike through the list, as per usual. He’s trying to choose between two similarly scented body washes — accidentally squirting some on the tip of his nose in the process — when you return from the feminine hygiene section. 

You didn’t need tampons, you realized while standing in front of the vibrantly colored boxes, because you had a full pack at home for a period that never came.

Steve uses his sleeve to wipe the peppermint-scented soap from his nose when you return, looking pallid and ghastly — like you’ve just seen a ghost looking for period underwear. His hand slows before falling to his side. “You okay?” he cautions.

You nod before the words catch up to you. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m— Yeah.”

“You could at least try and sound a little more convincing,” he laughs as he puts both bottles back. Neither was worth getting soap up the nose, turns out. “C’mon. Just tell me. It can’t be that bad, right?”

In his head, you’ve just seen someone from high school. You saw an old friend or a mean girl who hated you for no reason or a boy you had a fling with. They tried to chat you up while you were deciding between regular and super tampons, and the unexpected encounter’s got you all shaken up.

The image is so vivid in his head, Steve could laugh just thinking about it.

You clear your tightening throat, inching closer to him when another couple enters the aisle. You whisper like you’re telling him a secret. “My, um… My period is late. By, like… a lot.”

Steve’s blood runs cold. His eyes go wide and he forgets how to breathe. “Oh. Okay. Yeah. That’s— That’s bad, huh?”

“Yes,” you agonize, breathless. “Yes, that’s bad. That’s very, very bad.”

“Alright, c’mon. I’m standing right here,” he half-jokes.

“I just got promoted. If I have to take a year off work for maternity leave, I’ll be right back where I started.”

Steve can sense the panic radiating off of you. It’s rising with vigor like a faucet turned on high in a stopped-up kitchen sink. Once it starts overflowing, it’s harder to stop. Despite his own distant worry, he tries to quell your own.

“You might not even be pregnant, right? So why are you already worrying about maternity leave?” he questions with a gentle laugh. He takes both your arms in his hands, squeezing you in a soft reassurance. “You’re right. You just got promoted. Maybe, you know— Maybe you’re just stressed out about it. That’s all.”

“Yeah… You’re probably right.”

“Let’s take a test first, huh? Then we can start panicking.”

He presses a kiss to the tip of your scrunched nose. 

You’re able to breathe again.

You pick out three different brands of pregnancy tests, shoving them quickly into your cart and hiding them beneath your groceries like sex toys. 

The boxes are stacked on top of each other as they move slowly on the conveyor belt at the checkout counter. The older woman with pink lips and pinker nails smiles as she scans them through.

“It’s exciting, huh?” she gushes, smacking bubble gum between her teeth.

“Yep,” you nod, though the word comes out slightly strangled.

Steve’s charming smile wavers. “Totally.”

The paper bags of groceries are quickly abandoned on the kitchen counter when you get home. You’re far more worried about the pregnancy tests, and Steve’s more concerned about calming you down.

He sits with you on your shared bed, back propped up against the headboard, with you in between his legs. He works your palm with his thumbs, smoothing out the tension you seem to hold there. His chest you lean upon rises and falls with deep, even breaths. 

You’re not sure how he can be so calm about this, but you’re almost comforted by it.

Almost.

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, you know?” Steve admits after a minute or more of pure silence. “If you were pregnant. Actually, you know, I think I’d be pretty happy.”

“I know you would be. It’s totally different for you.”

His brows furrow, though you’re not looking at him to see. “What do you mean?”

“You wouldn’t have to be the one to take off work. I’d have to drop my entire career, and I’m— I’m just getting started. It would change everything for me.”

Steve hums to himself. It’s not the pregnancy that scares you, not the birthing process or the late nights or the constant crying. It’s the thought that you wouldn’t have a life outside of it all.

“I’d be here to help you, you know?”

“I know,” you sigh softly, tiling your head on his shoulder so you can stare up at him. His chin juts closer to his neck so he can look down at you too. “But for a while, we both couldn’t work. For the first couple of years, probably. And we can’t get a babysitter because we wouldn’t have double incomes, and… I don’t know if I’d trust someone to take care of our baby anyway—”

Steve tries not to smile but completely and utterly fails. 

You’re already talking like it’s a for sure thing — you having a baby. His baby. 

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up too high.

“Hey. It’s okay,” he almost coos to end your panicked rambling. “We’ll figure it out, I promise. Let’s just take this one step at a time, yeah?”

You take a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Yeah…”

He waits for you in the bedroom while you check the tests in the adjoining bathroom. He offered to come with you, of course, but you told him you could do it on your own. You said they’d probably be negative anyway, that it likely was just stress delaying your period, and that you were just making a fuss over nothing.

It’s quiet for all of ten seconds.

“Fuck!” you shout, a bit louder than you intended, muffled from the bathroom.

Steve winces.

“I take it they were positive?” he questions when you storm back into the bedroom, completely and utterly frazzled.

“We’re so stupid,” you chastise, pacing ahead of the bed. “We’re so, so stupid.”

Steve finds it in him to laugh, still a bit dazed by the results. “We’re not sixteen anymore. We’re married. Married people have kids—”

“But I’m not ready yet!” you shout with wild eyes. Your hands flail at your sides as you gesticulate. “I wanted to wait, like, five years, at least. I wanted to be CCO before we even thought about having kids.”

“Things don’t go as planned sometimes, babe. We know that more than anybody.”

He was right. After saving the world, you shouldn’t be shocked by anything anymore. You were so jaded by the time spring of 1986 rolled around that Vecna hardly scared you. The thought of uprooting your life to raise a child frightened you far more than any alternate dimension and monsters without faces.

“I was just announced Vice President, Steve. No one else in company history has gotten to oversee the marketing department so quickly. You don’t know what it’s like in the firm, alright? It’s vicious. They’ll replace me the second I’m gone.”

“No, they won’t,” the boy says with so much confidence it almost makes you angry.

“You can’t know that—”

��I do know that, actually,” he argues as he slides to the edge of the mattress to meet you. His larger hands engulf your shaking ones. His honey eyes twinkle as they gaze up at you. “‘Cause they’d be idiots to let you go. ’S why I married you, yeah? There’s not another person in the whole world like you.”

“It’s just something I’ve always wanted, you know?” you sigh, less prickly than before, but still visibly terrified. “I’ve been dreaming about corporate savagery since I was twelve…”

Steve grins. “You can still have all that. I’ve seen you set monsters on fire — you can raise a kid and run a company. You’re the most badass person I’ve ever met.”

“But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“If I can’t work, we’ll be living on your income. I don’t… I don’t want you to have to work more than you already do.”

“I’ll be okay,” he promises, squeezing your trembling fingers. “You’ll take maternity leave for however long you need to, your coworkers will grovel hands and knees to get you back, and I’ll… I’ll stay home with the baby.”

Your face scrunches with worry. “Is that something you want?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve always wanted to be a dad, you know? I can’t… I can’t really see myself doing anything else.”

Steve always thought he was broken in that way. His dad was already building businesses by the time he had a kid. He coached Steve to do the same — to graduate, to spend thousands on a degree, to have ten assistants by the time he was twenty-five. But Steve never wanted that. Not Ever. Especially not after the tenth near-death experience.

He just wanted to have a family of his own. 

He wanted to be with you and to be still. That was all. 

“Besides, you always said you wanted a house husband,” he jokes with a crooked smile.

That makes you laugh. A giggle sputters from your lips before you can stop it. The sunshine feeling overpowers your lingering worry.

“I would like that,” you concur with a sheepish grin. 

You can picture it so clearly — Steve with a baby, greeting you with a kiss when you get home, a spit-up towel thrown over his shoulder, hair mussed and jaw stubbled. It was something dreams were made of. 

Your potential reality. 

Your future.

“We’re gonna be the happiest damn people on the planet, babe.”

You lean down to kiss him. It’s hard, though, because you’re both smiling so wide.

Your laughs entwine, pressed into one another, as Steve flops back on the bed and drags you down with him. He rolls you onto your sides, one hand propping his head up and the other resting on your belly. 

My kid is in there, he marvels in his head. This is where my baby’s gonna grow.

“What do you think about Apple?”

Your brows pinch together. “What?”

“For, like, a girl name?”

“…Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Apple for a girl and Wolfgang for a boy,” he jokes with a wide smile on his rosy lips. He shrugs. “And if we have twins, they can be Apple and Wolfgang. Really rolls off the tongue, don’t ya think?”

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

With your hands cradling his jaw, you pull him down for another interrupted kiss.

“What about Moon or— ah,” he gasps with wide eyes. “Or Rainbow?”

“Steve!” you groan.

“What? Tell me Rainbow Harrington isn’t the cutest damn name you’ve ever heard.”

“That is so not a baby name.”

“Anything can be a name if you make it a name,” he argues with all of his Steve Harrington sass. “Like Queen… Or Journey.”

“Yeah, let’s just name all our kids after your favorite bands,” you quip, giggling.

“I know you’re joking, but that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

You shake your head at this boy and his wild head filled with wilder thoughts. 

You sit in silence in your marveling, letting him ramble on — “There’s Roxy and Berlin and- wait, do you think babies can be named after numbers? Because, like, B-52 is a badass name. Sounds like something out of Star Wars, huh?” 

You can’t believe you married this man. You can’t believe you get to be married to this man.

You’re stuck with Steve Harrington and his dumbassery for life.

God, you can’t wait to spend forever with him.

[bobawitch]

Halloweekend | M.S.

summary: Matt and reader have matching costumes which gains the question of could you two be more than friends?

cw: little bit of fluff, y/n used, not proofread </3

wc: 1469

pairing: matt x fem!reader

Halloweekend was potentially your most anticipated weekend of this year. Why, you ask? Well because you were doing matching costumes with your friend Matt. Now why was a friendly Halloween costume so important to you? Well that’s because you had a not very secret crush on that friend. You had known Matt for years now and were well acquainted with the fanbase as well. You and Matt had decided to dress from his favorite show, Gravity Falls. Since Dipper was Matt’s favorite character he was going as him and you decided to do a human version of Bill Cypher. You were sitting on Matt’s floor, all of your makeup strewn about in front of a little mirror. You had already slicked your hair back, some fly aways resting down so that your hair looked a little disheveled. You had a smokey eye with some golden shimmers on your eyelids, your lips were painted black and you had made a little brick design as contour. You were nearly ready and just waiting for Matt to finish his shower. As you hummed along to the Halloween music you put on you noticed the shower faucet sound had stopped. You turned your head to see Matt walk out in most of his costume. His white shirt hugged his torso, just barely being off of the rim of his cargo shorts. Thankfully you both lived in LA which meant that it wasn’t freezing during Halloween. “Hey.” “Hey” He smiled down at you, pushing his wet hair away from his face. “Have a good shower?” Matt nodded, moving to his bed where his blue vest sat with his little blue hat. “Your makeup looks good.” You smiled, “Thanks Matt.” “Yeah of course.” The two of you stared at each other for a minute, your eyes never leaving his. You opened your mouth to say something, to say anything, but you closed your mouth again. You didn’t know what you wanted to say, maybe you should tell him how you felt. Anytime you were with him he treated you so gently, it made your heart flutter at any word. 

Suddenly a hard knock came onto Matt’s door, Chris’s voice ringing from the other side. “Are y’all almost ready? We’re ready and people are going to start showing up soon.” You giggled at Matt, who jumped at the sudden knocking. He glared over at you before pulling the vest on himself. “Yeah yeah, we’re almost ready, just give us a minute.” You laughed again before standing up, dusting your mini skirt off before buttoning your big yellow tail coat. When you looked up you saw Matt, his hand was on the door knob but his eyes were glued to you. He blinked a few times before noticing you saw him. “Sorry uh, you just look amazing.” Your cheeks warmed and you tucked some of your gelled hair behind your ear. “Thanks Matt, you look cute.” You must have been seeing things because for a moment it looked like Matt blushed. But how could that be? He’s just your friend, nothing more. Matt was quick to open the door, his hat in his hand. He held it open for you to walk through which prompted you to jog your way to the door, smiling at Matt as you walked through the door and to where Chris stood. Chris looked you up and down before nodding. “Nice costume.” You smiled, doing a little pose. “Thanks Chris. I like your costume too.” Chris was dressed as Billy Loomis with Nick matching him as Stu. Matt soon joined the two of you in the hall, his hand grazing your lower back as he stood next to you. Your body tensed at his contact before you melted into his touch, leaning against him before remembering Chris was there. You stood up and smiled between the two, “Well I’m gonna go see everyone.” Matt nodded. “Ok, sounds good.” Chris nodded before giving Matt a look and walking away. 

When you walked into the kitchen you saw Madi sitting at the island scrolling on her phone. You moved to sit by her and smiled when she looked up. She met you with the same smile before turning off her phone. “You look cute.” You smiled and shrugged, “Thanks, you do too!” She giggled as Nick walked in. He dramatically gasped as Matt and Chris entered the room as well. He walked over to you and motioned at your outfit. “You look amazing Y/N!!” You gushed, not being able to control your smile at the boy. From the corner of your eye you saw Matt smiling at you as well. 

After some small talking between the 5 of you some of your other friends began to arrive. You dabbed up various people and began to party the way most 20 year olds would. Though you weren’t the drinking type, you’d have a few sips of something but nothing to get you hammered. As you mingled with Madi and some of y’alls friends you noticed Matt staring at you more and more. It made your heart flutter knowing that he was looking at you when other people were around. You mingled around the party earning a few confused looks at your costume and many compliments before finding Matt again. He was sitting on the couch looking around before his beautiful blue eyes fell upon you for what felt like the millionth time tonight. You smiled to yourself before walking over to him and sitting down. Without a word you curled yourself next to Matt, resting your head on his chest. You felt him tense under you before relaxing, laying his arm around your shoulder. You smiled and cuddled into your friend before looking up at him. “Enjoying the party?” You spoke to him, loud enough to be heard over the general bustle of people yet still quiet. Almost as if you two were in your own little world on that couch. Matt nodded, “Yeah, it’s better now though.” You felt your cheeks warm at that before sitting up, looking him directly in the face. “That was cheesy as fuck.” You stated, smiling at him with a teasing look in your eye. Matt laughed though it was almost as if it were a flustered laugh, causing him to look away from your face. After the two of you giggled he became oddly serious, grabbing your hand. “Can I talk to you?” He nearly whispered. “Of course, what’s wrong?” You whispered back. “Let’s go to my room..” He stood then, pulling you with him by the hand. He held your hand tight as the two of you walked past all of your friends and to the back hall where his room was. He opened the door for you and you walked in, immediately going to the mirror to make sure your costume was still in one piece. After you were certain you still looked like Bill Cypher you turned to Matt who was fidgeting nervously. You smiled sympathetically before walking over to him and grabbing his hands. “Hey look at me.” His eyes shot up, locking in with yours. “Talk to me Matt.” You whispered to him. Though it didn’t strike you as strange in the moment you were nearly an inch away from Matt’s face. It was an intense stare but the kind that felt so friendly and kind and full of love. Matt smiled for a moment before looking into your eyes, he sighed and looked back down at your hands. “Promise you won’t be mad at me.” Upon his words you furrowed your brows, now worried for what he may say. “I promise Matt, I could never be mad at you. Not really.” You moved to tilt his face up so that he was looking into your eyes once more. “Y/N I like you, like a lot.” You paused, your mind not letting you accept what he just said. “What do you mean..” Matt sighed before dropping your hands and grabbing the sides of your face. Suddenly your lips collided with something soft and warm. You blinked a few times as Matt kissed you, your heart exploding into fireworks. Quickly you began to kiss back, holding onto his hand that cupped your cheek. Your hands moved to his white undershirt, clutching it in your fists as you deepened the kiss. 

Finally pulling away you looked at Matt, a smile lingering on your lips. “I like you a lot. I wanted to do this costume with you because I like you. Like more than a friend.” He admitted, looking away a bit. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands snaked to your hips. You pulled him closer to you, kissing him once more. “I like you too Matthew Sturniolo.”

[cannibalizedlove]

My bestiest bestie recommended you and I have a BIG idea. I've always thought about a fic where y/n (any gender) moved into this creepy-ish home. After awhile of being there, there had been strange movements and noises and etc. Often the ghost of the house (timothee chalamet) visits only when they're asleep to either caress their hair or cheek because timothee is afraid to show himself to them; especially from fear of scaring them. He is a very beautiful ghost too. When the reader falls in love with timothee, they can only feel him. The reader is the only person that can physically touch him because of how strong their love is. (I might be a bit cheesy).

and the best part of this story is that when the reader dies in the future — the two lovers can and will always be happily together.

A very fluffy and sweet story! With some slight angst.

This is such a cute idea!! I love a little angst-y, cheesy story so I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. Love your and your besties blog as well!!

Hauntingly Yours.

Information and warnings — Gender neutral reader, gender never specified, Ghost Timothée, old hollywood Timothée, slow burn, very, very long fic.., reader death, Timothée doesn’t know what technology is, hurt/comfort, lover boy Timmy, fluffy angst.

You had recently moved into your new house, an old, southern gothic home from the early ‘20s.

When your friends helped you move, they joked that it was haunted. The rickety house was a bit beat down, chipped paint, leaky faucets and creaky floors galore, but it had good bone structure and charm that you couldn’t pass up.

You enjoyed the aesthetic of the house, and knew the more deserted area it was in would have a positive effect on your writing.

You had been in a slump, your book was 30 pages behind the deadline and your editor was livid. You believed if you were to move away from the loud city, the bustling streets and lit up buildings you could connect with the words and let them flow onto the pages.

It was about a week into settling in, and you were starting to believe your friends. In the dead of the night the floors would creek, and sinks would turn on randomly. When you would write, you felt a cold air touch your neck, and an almost humming sound would whisper in your ears.

You had finally had enough a few nights ago. You were about to lay down for a late sleep, when a loud crash came from the kitchen. You ran quickly to the room, finding a mug your mother had gifted you from your last apartment completely shattered on the floor.

After sweeping up the remaining pieces, you grabbed your laptop, getting to the bottom of this.

You began researching the area and house, and your jaw hung open as you found out the history of your home.

In the late 1930’s, a beautiful star was on the rise. Timothée Chalamet was an actor like no other, he was gorgeous, talented, and had incredible range.

He lived in a gorgeous home, it was in the southern part of the state, off the grid and away from the busy city he desperately needed to get out from.

It seemed as everyone loved him, except the man who took his life.

One night, as Timothée was alone in bedroom, he was shot dead. The shooter was later identified as his costar in his upcoming film.

As you read on, you became increasingly aware that you lived in an old hollywoods stars death bed.

What you weren’t aware of was he knew you lived here too.

Timothée had been alone for all these years, he had felt so alone. He would roam the hallways pacing back and forth for hours before returning back to the bed in which he had died in.

Until you came along.

You were beautiful, and so talented. He loved just standing in the doorway and watching your fingers tap on your weird bright box late at night, he didn’t quite know what it was but he enjoyed reading the words that popped up on it.

Timothée was terrified of letting you see him, so he’d only come into the room late at night, while you were sleeping. He’d softly caress your cheek or pet your hair, watching as your chest moved up and down in your slumber.

You couldn’t sleep, you were too horrified by the idea of sleeping in a deadman’s house, but mostly you were pissed that your real estate agent hadn’t told you about the haunted backstory.

As the late hour rolled around, Timothée had walked into your room, shocked to see you awake. He tipped toed around you too see what was on your light box, as he saw his passing plastered all over it.

His phantom heart sank. Timothée never wanted you to find out about him, he knew you’d be scared and leave him alone once again.

You felt the energy shift, a shiver ran down your spine and you decided enough was enough. You grabbed your phone and began to dial the number of your real estate agent, trying to find out how badly your pockets would be broke if you canceled your contract early.

That was until your phone was flung out of your hands, cracking the screen a bit.

“Hello?! Who’s there!?” You called out with wide eyes, trying to pretend you weren’t terrified in your own home.

A soft whisper rang through your ears, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You knew you weren’t alone.

You ripped a piece of paper off and drew a “yes, no” sign with two pens on top of eachother like the game you learned back in elementary school. This was the only way you knew how to talk to the other side. You sat on the dreaded bed, putting the paper in the middle of the mattress.

A weight shifted on the end of the bed, you knew this was Timothée, he was sitting with you.

“Is there someone here with me?” You asked out, hugging yourself for a sense of security.

Timothée picked up the pen and put it on the “Yes” part of the sign, watching you with tears in his eyes as he watched the utter sense of horror fill you. He was scaring you, something he wanted less than anything in the world.

“Are you the actor who died here back in the ‘30s?” You muttered out, watching as the pen once again went to the “Yes.”

“Are you able to speak to me?” Another question, Timothée swallowed thickly as he began to speak, believing you wouldn’t hear him.

“I’m sorry to scare you mon amour..” A voice softly whispered out.

You jumped, falling off the bed and panting profusely. Timothée was equally shocked, his voice had never been heard before, and was utterly confused by your abilities.

“I can hear you.. I’m going fucking insane. I’m actually insane, oh my God.” You tugged on your skin, pulled on your hair and looked around like a madman, truly believing you were either asleep or finally losing your mind.

“You’re not insane, Dollface. I’m right here.” The voice called out, it had that old hollywood transatlantic accent mixed with a french one, and it had you.. swooning. Impossible, you’re not weak in the knees for a ghost.. right?

Timothée made your way towards you, and sat by you on the ground, “No one has ever heard me before, Mon Cherie. I’m so alone, all I do is roam the hallways and watch you work, I’m overwhelmed with desire when I see you.” His voice filled the room, and you calmed down slowly but surely.

As you guys continued talking, you found yourself relating more and more to him. He was a kind soul, who didn’t deserve anything he had went through. When he talked about his death, you felt water drop on your knee, and you knew he was crying. You comforted him, telling him that he was okay now and how nothing could hurt him anymore.

Throughout the conversations, you found yourself falling harder and harder into a love for him. He was incredibly talented, smart, and insanely witty. You knew if anyone walked in, they’d think you were absolutely mad, but funnily enough, you had never felt so grounded and happy.

“If you were alive when I was, I bet we would’ve been the best of lovers, Sweet Pie. We could’ve rocked Hollywoods world!” Timothée laughed, you chuckled with your head hanging low, you desperately wished it was true. You wished you could’ve loved him back then, maybe he never would’ve met his terrible fate and you could’ve grown old together. You both could’ve lived in this house, and he could’ve reached the level of stardom that he had deserved.

Soon when you lifted your head back up, complete shock struck you as you were now face to face with the man you had been speaking to all night.

He looked straight out of a black and white movie, he had a sharp nose, heavy lashes, perfectly set curls, and soft freckles that kissed his entire face.

You screamed, throwing your hands on your mouth.

“What?! What’s wrong?!” Timothée exclaimed, his eyes were wide and he grabbed your arm.

“I can.. You! I can see you?! I can FEEL you?!” You had explained in complete shock, locking eyes with him, and staring at his large hand on your arm.

Timothée was overjoyed that you could finally be with him, but he quickly feared that you would be scared of him, more than you were before.

“You’re.. beautiful, Timothée.” You said with a sigh, moving closer to him and gently running a thumb across his cheek. “Much more beautiful than the pictures, I didn’t think you could get prettier.” You giggled, bringing him into a tight embrace.

Timothée hadn’t felt a hug in decades, he began to sob, shaking like a leaf as he held you close. “I’ve never wanted anything more than to be seen.” He said through intense tears, and you shushed him quietly, kissing the top of his head and wiping his tears.

“I see you, Angel.” You began to cry with him, and the two of you fell asleep holding each other.

The days went on and you were falling for him more and more, since you could see and feel him now, you did everything together. You taught him what a laptop was, and you showed him new movies and explained how CGI was a part of every film now. He thought it was tacky, and said that hollywood had declined since his time and you laughed with agreement.

It had been about a month since you first met Timothée, and you were head over heels for him. Today was different than the others, because you decided you were going to tell him how you loved him. You cooked the two of you breakfast, and held his hand over the table as you ate with him.

“May I tell you something, dear?” You muttered, rubbing your thumb against his boney knuckles, holding eye contact with him as he had a bit of syrup on the corner of his mouth. He was a complete goof, and you loved him for it, he deserved to know that.

“Of course, darling, what is it?” He asked sweetly, smiling widely.

“I, well, I love you.” You exclaimed, you looked down as you said it, feeling like a fool.

“Oh, Mon Cherie.” Timothée began to cry, he was a very emotional man, and you loved that about him.

He left his seat and picked you up, swinging you around, “I love you more than you know!” His voice cried out.

For the rest of the day, you were clung to his side, you spent the entire afternoon kissing and holding him tightly. You loved him, he loved you and that’s all you needed. When the day had come to a close, you needed a shower. You broke apart from Timothée and left him with a peck on the lips.

You had gotten a towel, and began to undress, jumping into the shower. Everything was normal, you shampooed your hair, hummed songs and went to grab your soap. It fell out of your hands, and with closed eyes you went to grab it, in a terrible accident you slipped on the bar of soap. You screamed and slammed your head on the faucet insanely hard. For a moment you heard Timothée rushing into the room, and the next moment you heard and felt nothing.

You woke up to Timothée crying as he held you close, you were confused as you heard ambulances outside your home and men rushing in your direction. It felt like you were seeing with your eyes closed, and Timothée was whispering comforting nothings into your ears.

It had finally clicked for you, you had passed away due to the hit to your head. You were terrified. You began to scream and cry but your body wasn’t moving, you wanted to yell that you were alive and for them to stop wrapping your body, but Timothée held you down and told you that there was nothing you could do.

Months later your friends and family had a funeral for you, you stayed back, in that southern home.

Every morning you woke up to Timothée in your shared bed, and every night you’d eat dinner, and go to bed with him. You felt at peace, you knew that you and him would be in love forever, and you knew that nothing could tear you apart.

Your souls were intertwined in that home, till the end of time.

[r-i-03-17]

Ok, even MORE Yasammy headcanons, because why not. (WARNING: This post is going to contain a little bit more....mature headcanons, nothing super bad just.... implied. Now having said that, I'm hoping we can all have a good laugh and be mature, if this is something people don't like, I'll only do the very mild ones from now on, but if people enjoy these, then I'll continue making them, I hope you enjoy and let me know if you want more.)

*Yaz and Sammy go to the farmers market every weekend during the summer to sell eggs, meat, and vegetables. It's one of there favorite things to do together.

*Yaz likes to ride dirt bikes and takes a boxing class, while Sammy is more mild manored and is part of a photography group and paints.

*For her birthday Yaz bought Sammy a pickup truck she had been wanting forever and she got hugged so hard she had bruises.

*Sammy enjoys nature documentaries, and Yaz likes horror films.

WARNING, The next headcanon is the "explicit" one I mentioned earlier, it's not too bad, but if you don't want to read it, this is your warning to turn away. Oh, and obviously these headcanons and ALL the headcanons I write apply to CT and after, so they are 18 plus, just wanted to make that clear 🙂. If you're stopping here, thanks for reading and I'll see ya next time, peace ✌️

*Once a week Sammy and Yaz......"play checkers". Something they both agreed to and found enjoyable. One time when Brooklyn had come to stay at the ranch with them for a visit/in-between stories for her blog she was making, and she had gotten up in the middle of the night for a drink of water. She grabbed a cup, turned the faucet, and no water came out. She didn't want to bother Sammy or Yaz that late at night, but saw their light was on underneath the door to their bedroom. She knocked on the door, but nobody answered. Brooklyn called out and heard one of them make a noise, and worried that something was wrong she opened the door.......to Yaz and Sammy....."playing checkers". Brooklyn didn't drink water for a month and Yaz and Sammy got a lock for their door.

Ok everyone, if you made it this far I'm hoping that means you've enjoyed the headcanons. Let me know if you'd like me to do more, and I'll see ya next time, peace ✌️

[vierlieben]

Heavenly.

choi san x f!reader

genre: fluff

desc.: your boyfriend came home, feeling like the entire world is on his back. as a loving and caring girlfriend, you did something for him to make him feel not just "better", but "heavenly".

wc: 1,059

the hands of the clock told you that it's now 6:45 pm. then you continued washing the dishes. the sink's loaded after baking cookies for an order. you have been standing for like ten minutes now in here.

you know that any moment, your boyfriend would find you doing the dishes and would give you a warm back hug. as you were just thinking about that, you felt something pressed onto your body; arms wrapped around your waist, head resting on your shoulder.

you didn't even hear San enter the apartment, all you can hear is the flowing water—the faucet's loud as hell.

"well, good evening to you, mister." you greeted with a sweet tone.

you were thinking that he was just sleepy or lazy to talk, as how he always is when he gets home—but no, his head resting on your shoulder right now is heavier than ever. it is like the entire world is on your back. San is putting all of his head's weight on your shoulder but you didn't mind at all.

"hey," you turned your head to him, quickly finishing the dishes. "love, are you alright?"

you felt him shake his head lazily. few seconds passed and you are finally done with these damn dishes. you quickly dried your hands and turned around to see him; his eyes are half opened, shoulders almost dropping on the floor, and you can also feel the weight that he's carrying right now although you don't know what's going on yet.

"come here, what's wrong?" you wrapped your arms around his upper body, he rested his head on your shoulder again. "rough day at work? exhausted? tell me, baby..."

the caressing on his back made him feel calmer. San sighed so deeply. "i am not going to have rough days at work for a while because the investors in our company are now gone..."

you felt like tearing up when you heard that tone. it was low, and sad... this is your first time hearing your boyfriend talk like this and it's breaking your heart.

"oh, baby..," you gave him a couple of pats on his back. "you're going to be alright. i mean, it's fine to feel that way for now. but we're going through this, okay?"

"i know.." his tone sounded a lot better now. "it's just... i don't know, it kind of hurt me. I've been working for that company for almost two years now and it's going to close out of nowhere. i am just going to miss them. plus, i don't think i could ever stand being just here all day, doing and earning nothing."

"no, love, shush," you broke the hug and looked straight to his eyes. "come on, it's going to be fine. i will help you find a new job. but for now, the world won't end if you would just stay at home for a while with me, right? i will take care of you."

he painted an upside down smile and pulled you again for a hug. "alright then.. i just couldn't help but to feel bad. but I'm fine now that i head those from you."

"yeah..." you caressed his back once again. "would you do me a favor?"

you know so well that San is kind of workaholic... well, it's because he wants to earn and earn for his and your future together. he likes to invest in big things. he's been very helpful when it comes to financial problems, especially to his friends. that's one of the millions of things that you love about him—he is truly reliable, dependable all the time.

he can't stand it whenever he's not doing something productive. well, if it's not a job to work on, he'll be all over you; spoiling you, taking care of you as if you're a queen, taking you everywhere you'd like, just EVERYTHING. sometimes you'd feel bad because he's just doing things for you and often forgets to do something for himself, but then he would reassure you that he's fine and would finally do something about it just so you won't feel bad anymore.

"what favor?" he asked back.

"will you please stop thinking about getting a job for a while? maybe a month or two? just... i want you to get some rest, you need that. we have more than enough here, my love. what's very important right now is that you get some relaxation and time for yourself. everything's taken care of, keep that in mind. will you?" you asked him with the calmest, sweetest tone ever—the one that he won't even dare to disagree with.

he nodded, his head still on your shoulder but now lighter. "i will, baby. thank you, i love you. maybe i have been overworking a bit... i will rest for now."

"perfect," your eyes shined. you broke the hug and kissed his forehead. "now, come with me. i'll do something to make you feel better."

"but i already feel better—"

"just shut it and come with me," you glared at him, and he looked at you with his eyes smiling.

"how's that feel?"

San feels like dreaming — like he's on the clouds and there are angels singing for him.

he didn't answer your question yet. the whole bathroom is filled with nothing but silence.

he's like a child sitting on the toilet while you are shampooing and massaging his head. this is the kind of therapy that he's been craving for—too bad, why did you just think of it now? you could have made him feel good in this way before.

"hey? are you sleeping?" you whispered.

"i don't know what to say..." he whispered back, you almost didn't hear it. "heavenly..."

you smiled at the thought that maybe he's feeling so good. he really does. you're glad that you're finally making him feel this way...

"you should do this to me everytime that I'm taking a bath..." he murmured, eyes still closed. "will you?"

"you don't even have to ask." you replied. "i have been also wanting to do this but you take quick baths, how's that possible?"

he chuckled. "afraid to be late at work."

you two laughed silently.

"i'd do this to you as well, baby." he added. "maybe reward me with a kiss?"

"how many kisses are we talking about?"

[nattinatalia]

Jack Harlow x Reader : DÍA DE LAS MADRES

A/N : This was supposed to go out Wednesday night for Hispanic mommy’s day.

Jack had woken up earlier than usual, luckily you and the kids were still sleeping upstairs. He was running around the house trying to get things set up for you.

You both always go above and beyond for one another and this year was no different. He had picked up your favorite flowers, your gift and of course made a quick stop at your favorite Mexican restaurant for some breakfast.

He was done setting up the posters the kids had made, when he heard little feet stomping around on the floor.

“Is that for mama?”

“Yeah, do you like it?”

Ezequiel nods, “Pretty.” He looks around and says, “I want give momma some.”

Jack smiles at that, he knew his little man would say that so he came prepared. “I have some for you in the kitchen so you can give them to mama.”

He smiles and runs towards the kitchen. “Breaky too?”

Jack follows behind him.“Yeah bud, I got everything.”

Next thing a grumpy Mia walks in the kitchen rubbing her eyes. “Mommy is awake, where are her gifts?”

Ez rolls his eyes “Chill.”

“You don’t even know what that means so you hush.” Mia glares at her brother.

“No tell me to hush, Mia mean.” Ez exclaims.

“Okay, no fighting. Today is your moms day and we need to be on our best behavior.” Jack tries to get them to calm down.

“What is going on?.” You come to a stop at the entrance of the kitchen, tying your robe tight around your waist.

Three heads turn to quickly look at you.

“NOTHING.” The three of them yell out.

“Hmm.” You smile. “I don’t believe you, but I’ll let it slide.”

Jack goes up to you, wraps his arms around you. “Feliz día de las madres baby.”

To your surprise, Jack pronounced it right and said it the right way without any problems. “Aww you’ve been practicing?”

He nods, “The kids are tough teachers.”

You both smile and share a kiss. “Thank you bubs.”

“Okay no more kissing.” Ez says. “Momma these for you.” He hands you a small bouquet of sunflowers.

“Aww thank you mi amorcito.” You bend down to kiss his cheek.

“Feliz madres día momma.”

“Ezequiel, how are you going to teach me how to say it but you mixed up the words?” Jack laughs.

“I’m her baby, so is okay.” Ezequiel smirks and hugs you, and gives you a kiss on the cheek as well.

“Babe, they were literally terrorizing me because I kept messing up the words, and he gets a pass?.” Jack shakes his head, acting hurt.

“Mommy.” Mia says entering the kitchen again. somehow she made a quick run for it without you noticing. “This for you.”

She hands you a Pandora bag, “Bubs?”

Jack shakes his head and has a confused look on him. “I didn’t buy that.”

“Oh?” You face Mia.

“Tío Clay took me, lo compré con mi dinero.” She shrugs.

You open up the box and find a beautiful gold bracelet. “Mia, this is beautiful”

“You like it?”

You nod and go to hug her. “I love it, thank you.”

“Alright kids, go wash your hands so we can have breakfast.” Jack tells them, and they both run to do just that.

“Babe, we have to return it. How did Clay let her spend money on this?”

“He just texted.” He looks at his phone and laughs. “I guess he didn’t really let her waste her money. Little shit charged it on my card.”

You both laugh at that.

“WE ARE STARVING GUYS.”

“Let’s go before we get put on timeout by our children.”

You and your family enjoy breakfast together, Jack had picked up all your favorites. From chilaquiles, to huevos rancheros and pan de Dulce with some coffee.

On the kitchen counter the kids had posters scattered around that they had hand painted themselves. They drew the entire family, even including Druski in it. They even made some arts and crafts made out of pasta and glued some pictures on it.

“I have one more surprise, well two but one of them is for tonight.” Jack shuts off the faucet after finishing washing the dishes.

“Babe, I told you no gifts this year.”

“It’s mommy’s day momma, you need gifts” Ez tells you excitedly. Your little boy really is the sweetest kid ever, both of your kids actually.

“Do you two know what the surprise is?”

They both nod and smile “YESS.”

“It’s so cool mom.” Mia tells you.

“Let’s go see your surprise?”

“What do you mean, go where?”

“Outside.” Jack takes your hand and starts leading you outside.

“Momma close eyes.” Ezequiel tells you.

“Eyes are closed mijo.”

“Five steps and then open your eyes baby.”

“Alright, you guys tell me when to open my eyes.”

“Open now mama.” Both Mia and Ez yell out.

Once you open your eyes, you’re in shock. “What?”

You quickly turn to question Jack, “Baby? What is this?”

“You said you wanted one, so I got it for you.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Baby, I was totally joking.”

He shakes his head, “You were probably joking just a tiny bit, but I know for a fact you really meant it.”

You jump on him, wrapping your legs around his waist, arms around his neck. “Thank you baby, for this morning and for always including our kids.”

“Anything for you mamas.” He squeezes your waist and gives you a kiss.

“Momma come sit in it.”

You and Jack pull away, and he sets you down. “Go momma, the kids are calling.”

You smile and follow after the kids who are sitting inside the car admiring it.

“You know we’re returning it right?” You ask your husband.

“What? No we’re not.”

“Babe, this is too much.”

“Nothing is too much for you. Plus look at the kids.” He gestured his head to where Mia and Ez are seated at. “They love it and I know they’d want turns riding in the passenger side.”

“Then this just means my gift for Father’s Day is more than valid.” You smirk.

“Babe, you can’t one up me! That’s not fair.”

You sit down in the driver seat “I’ve been planning your Father’s Day gift since last year so deal with it.”

“Momma?”

“Yeah baby?” You face Ezequiel.

“We go zoom zoom pass the hoes?”

“ANGEL EZEQUIEL HARLOW.!” Jack yells.

“What?”

“That’s not a nice word baby, where did you hear that?” You ask him, trying not to laugh.

“Uncle Druski.”

“You’re not allowed to spend alone time with uncle Dru any more.” Jack tells him, shaking his head.

“This is Mother’s Day guys, can we not talk about how naughty Cheesy and Druski are?” Mia asks, rolling her eyes. “Let’s go cuddle and watch movies.”

“Mia you’re bossy.” Ezequiel rolls his eyes.

“Alright, let’s go back inside. We all need to shower and then we can lay in bed and watch movies all day.”

“Not all day, we still have dinner.” Jack tells you.

“Dinner? Baby you already did enough.”

“It’s something small, I promise.”

“There’s nothing small concerning you Jackman.”

“You got that right.” He turns to see if the kids are out of earshot. “This is your main gift tonight.” He places your hand on his cock.

“That’s my gift every night, don’t get it twisted now.” You smack his ass and run ahead to catch up with the kids and make it to the steps before Jack catches you and carries you inside.

The kids are laughing and admiring the entire thing.

Jack and the kids definitely outdid themselves, and you weren’t talking about the gifts. The thoughtfulness and the love you received from them made your Mother’s Day so special just like every year.

• • • • • • • • • •

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[h-c-u]

Ways he shows you love

Summary: Maverick's love languages and some of the things he would do for you.

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x reader [I actually managed to keep the reader gn :) ]

W/C: 2.6k

Rating: PG

TWs: none

A/N: There is no specific story, just a bunch of soft headcanons stuck together with a washi tape, but they were bubbling in my head and I had to get them out in one place.

Masterlist | List of tags

After the initial - I don't deserve you, I'm too old for you, I'm always away, etc phase - he would finally relent and properly asked you to be his... girlfriend.

Since it was his first serious relationship, he wasn't exactly sure what it entailed. Of course, he knew the "proper relationship" tropes from movies, books, and Goose and Carol, but you didn't exactly fit into any of those categories, and he wanted to bring heaven to you, he just didn't know how. Yet. What he did know how to do, was how to fix things, so he started there. 

He took care of your leaky faucet in the kitchen first. Next, he replaced that one glass panel in your bedroom window, that started to crack. Later he connected the water pump in the garden to the main line, so you wouldn't have to drag heavy watering cans from the inside of the house anymore. 

When you mentioned that you wanted to paint one of the walls in your living room gold, he went to the ends of the Earth to find four different shades of metallic paint you might like and prepared everything, and that included taping the corners of the other walls and ceiling, putting protective foil on the floor and getting you all the rollers and paintbrushes you could possibly need. And when you were finished and decided that you wanted to paint realistic clouds on the ceiling, he was right there with you, researching the best techniques and renting a proper scaffolding for you, so you wouldn't have to balance on a ladder for three days straight; he wanted to do so many things for you, but respected that you also wanted to do them on your own, so he was just happy to... well... make you happy. 

When you couldn't find a specific coffee table you wanted, he spent hours upon hours asking you questions about it. What wood would be the best, did you want it stained? How about edges, rounded or squared? The exact dimensions...? To which height you wanted the countertop to raise, so you could still work and eat on it? How many compartments on the inside? Did you want any drawers...? How tall the legs should be...? And after about two weeks of those relentless questions, you came back home to the exact table you wanted, because he built one for you, with a small help from his friends. 

He very quickly noticed that you didn't drink coffee, observed which teas you'd prefer during the day, and was ready with one as soon as you realized you wanted it. 

When he was in the country, he was the one doing the majority of day-to-day cooking, while you were the one who took care of preserving fruits and veggies from your garden for longer terms. 

Since you had an inquisitive mind and loved understanding exactly how things worked, he answered every question you had in extreme detail. It didn't matter if it was about that fixed leaky faucet or the engine of his plane and why it needed that exact maintenance. 

He was always happy to teach you new things, and learn new things from you. 

Since you quickly became a top specialist in your field, you didn't have to work as much, because you were usually called only as a last resort or to teach courses, leaving you tons of time to work on your home and to spend time with Maverick; and you both used it to the fullest. He was genuinely interested in your work, even if he didn't always understand everything, and that sometimes made him wonder if the interest was actually there, or did he enjoy seeing you talk about something you were so passionate about, that he would do anything to maintain that level of energy in you. Either way, he ended up with a much higher level of knowledge about cloud engineering than some of your colleagues.

When you expressed interest in the local huntsman community, he was right there with you, learning and acing all the tests about maintaining a proper balance in nature, how to create spaces for endangered species, and sometimes - how to help control a population. He was there when you killed your first deer, and held you close when you cried. You knew it had to be done because he was attacking and killing the younger bucks in the area, yet still - it affected you. And he guided you through those complicated emotions. After the meat was tested, he was the one to properly process and preserve every possible part, and that helped you feel less guilty, because every part of that majestic animal was properly utilized, and it fed both of you for over half of winter.

Even as a kid you wanted to do as many things as you could from scratch, that's why you ended up in a small house next to the forest, with a giant garden, that already had a proper orchard, and he never batted an eye when you wanted to plant new veggies, try freeze drying or dehydrating them, and when the pantry next to your small kitchen filled up, he was the one that came with the idea of building a root cellar, and you took a course on building one together.

And next year, when you wanted to get chickens, he was the one who researched what would be needed in the coop and built one from the recycled haul of the plane, which made you laugh so hard because you just loved it. And after that, when you wanted to start a small colony of bees, he was right there with you, preparing proper frames and contacting local beekeepers in search of a hive. 

He helped you maintain everything in tip-top condition, even though you were the one who usually got up first to do some light weeding, feeding the chickens, and gathering eggs. He was up just as you were finishing up, and was ready for you with tea and breakfast. 

It was only natural that he was the one to move in because he knew that you would suffocate living in assigned housing on base, so far from nature. He loved that duality in you... You were working in a very technical and futuristic field, and yet, here you were... Gathering honey from your bees. 

You knew he was doing a lot for you, but it first hit you how much, when he was deployed for the first time since he moved in. All the teas, the cooking, making sure that you'll actually eat during work... Of course, there were other, more technical things around the house, but you were more aware of those since you knew the building in and out, and you knew you'd had to take care of them when he was out. But there were so many small things that you didn't even notice during the regular day, which made you feel guilty because you weren't doing as much for him... An empty house was something that you could stomach, an empty bed...? Let's just say it was harder. That's when you noticed that he left three of his favorite t-shirts and his leather jacket, and you took full advantage of wearing them almost every day. The shirts quickly stopped smelling like him, but the jacket... it was what helped you the most since the calls were so few and far between. He couldn't even tell you where he was, so you weren't even able to check the news from that area.

When he proposed, he didn't do it in some grand way, because he knew you would hate it... He actually planned a beautiful two-day hike to the top of a mountain, just the two of you, where he planned to propose, but a huge storm caught you, and you had to pitch a tent in a rush because coming down was more dangerous than staying where you were. And the storm just went on and on... So you've spent the whole night just... talking, nothing else. Whispering soft stories about your time together, possible plans for the future, and the silly little project you wanted to do around the house... All the words were barely written into existence before being drowned by the sounds of rain viciously attacking your tent. And when in the morning the storm was still raging, he realized that you're not gonna move anytime soon, and he just couldn't wait any longer, so he pulled out a small box with a simple, handmade ring with a green stone embedded in such a way, that it wouldn't snatch on anything. You of course said yes because for you - it was perfect and unusual, and you loved to tell that story, even if most of your friends couldn't quite understand why.

He insisted on having a prenup, since you were the one who was earning more in your relationship, but to be honest, both of your pensions were mostly piling up in your accounts since you were mostly living from your land, which somehow wasn't the plan when you first bought the house. Sure, you wanted to have some fruits and veggies during the summer, but it somehow evolved into this beast that you loved more than anything, because your land basically became a living thing that required love and attention, but was giving so much in return. You eventually decided to get solar panels and dig a well, after one particularly long break in receiving water and electricity after the hurricane. You weren't one of those people that were getting ready for the apocalypse, and you definitely wouldn't try to force a similar lifestyle on anyone. And of course, you didn't judge anyone for living differently. You just found it funny that you've found yourself in this position, but you loved every moment.

When it came to gifts for special occasions, he never gave you something that you could just buy yourself. It was either something you wanted, but couldn't find anywhere, or an experience. Because of that, he took you to pottery classes, found a bookbinder who spend a weekend with you, teaching you the basics of making and conserving paper, and later - how to properly bind it. He also took you to a jewelry workshop, where you learned different methods of casting metal, and after that, he found a geologist who took both of you for a day-long adventure all about finding raw crystals and how to recognize fossils hidden in simple stones; you still had few of those on your fireplace. 

He was never the biggest fan of public displays of affection, but neither were you and yet when you on occasion grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers, he never let them go.

He learned everything there was about you... Not only what was visible on the surface, but because he spent so much time looking at you, he knew things even you didn't know were there. He noticed that when you were working, you preferred to use one specific type of perfume, and you were using them unconsciously when you needed to focus on work. So when he noticed you were having trouble focusing on the task you just had to do, he smeared a bit of them behind your ears, kissed the top of your head, and in only a few minutes you were back to clicking on your keyboard at the speed of light. He noticed that you gravitated to one specific brand of pens when you were documenting what you did in the garden and when you were tracking the crops, so he made sure that they were always laying around the house in visible places, and it wasn't even your favorite brand, you just liked them for this specific activity. 

When you were leaving for a week with your friends, he not only drove to the meeting point but prepared snacks for the road for everyone, and even made a thermos full of mulled wine, and you knew that you were leaving your home in very capable and loving hands, so there was not even a second when you were worried when some of your friends did... About their husbands, about their kids... And you...? After all those years you two became an extension of each other and there was nothing but trust between you two. And when you came back after a whole week of backpacking, there was a white gazebo with a blue roof, and a swing mounted to the ceiling in the corner of your garden, a mirror image of what you had in your head. He even planted the vines on the sides, but it would be a while until they'd covered the intricate white paneling. 

At first, it was hard for you to pinpoint a way he'd preferred to receive your love and attention. He wasn't the biggest fan of gifts per se... He of course cherished everything you were giving him, like that stupid pendant you cast in your metallurgy course, that somehow managed to look a little bit like a plane. And the mugs you made together during the pottery course... But something like an expensive watch or a new bike was definitely out of the question. When it came to words of affirmation... He had an extremely complicated relationship with compliments, even if they were genuine, but he loved hearing you say that you love him, so you would try to pepper that in during the day. Neither of you liked touching that much. Of course, there was occasional cuddling, but it wasn't something either of you craved; it was more of a comfort thing after a long day. There was one exception though... He simply melted when you were playing with his hair, didn't matter when or where, it was like his reset button. And even though he showed love by doing things for you, when it came to receiving love the same way, he was more than uncomfortable, so you also had to wiggle around that. And then there was just... time spent together. Didn't matter if you were actually doing something together-together, or you were just simply there, reading a book when he was fixing up the plane. Or if he was going over paperwork on the terrace while you were doing something in the garden. 

Simply spending time with you was recharging his batteries, and your single smile was able to make all the worries go away in a blink of an eye; he just couldn't stay frustrated or angry in your proximity, which was fun to see when you were spending time together with his friends from the navy, because they rarely got to see him as you saw him every day. He was much calmer, less anxious, and somehow... more confident...? Of course as a pilot and a captain, he had to be confident in his decisions, but with you near... It was just another type of confidence, at least that's what Ice said. He couldn't explain it in more detail though. 

You two worked well together and somehow managed to avoid serious fights over the course of your 14 years of marriage. Sure, there were disagreements, but neither of you was above admitting when you were wrong, so you never got properly angry, having too much respect and love for each other to assume less than the best about the other person. 

You were the couple that your friends looked up to and were a tiny bit jealous of... You were the couple that randomly started dancing in the kitchen when "Snowman" by Sia came on the radio. You were the couple that after all those years looked at each other as if you saw each other for the first time ever. You were the couple who read books to each other out loud. You were simply a couple that loved each other. 

[sam-monroe]

Summary: Following after the film, Sam starts to realize that the time after his father's death only started to hurt him more than let him thrive. However, how can you thrive when you seem cursed to be doomed in misery? Characters: Sam Monroe, Robin Kimball, Adam and Ryan Kimball, various OCs to fill the gaps LOL Warnings: minor character death (? maybe can be considered major, but he's not from the film), teenage angst, sam re-emofying himself Ships: None Word Count: 6.9k words A/N: This directly follows after the film (with some time gap because funeral planning), and it does have a minor character death in it. I wanted to expand on Sam's story, and I really didn't like the "feeling lighter looking lighter" trope they had with him. Let him stay emo... :( Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. I'm currently crying over it for the 3428794237 time. VERY loosely based off Your Graduation by Modern Baseball. Edit 02.29.24: Major rework, adding details, fixing punctuation, etc etc. I'm sorry I'm a shit writer. Read here on ao3

Normally summer breaks would be marked with back to school shopping, maybe a few more parties or something else to bring a close to the months of break from school. However, this wasn’t the case for Sam this summer. The summer wasn’t marked with the rushed supply shopping for all three kids, no. It was marked with another divorce and a funeral. Luckily, they didn’t have to move, and due to his stepfather’s shit talk of Sam behind his back, Sam didn’t have to see him anymore. 

Good riddance.

Unfortunately with grief things seemed to get better for the family, getting closer again, but Sam had felt so much more lost. He headed up the light wood stairs as they had come back from the funeral as the sun poured into the mostly white and light wood decorated home. He was wearing muted earth colors, having one of his father’s flannels on him as he felt so puffed up from crying so much. Even Adam and Ryan cried a little. His mother guided them to the kitchen to make a snack, but he moved to his room. He got the left door open, looking around at the walls covered in spray paint, Manson posters and other various things from magazines. 

Maybe his room could use a makeover like the house did. No idea what it would be changed to. He moved to his built in bathroom, moving the beads of the Sacred Heart to the side to get in the surprisingly clean bathroom. Compared to his room, his bathroom was always clean. He got to the sink to get some cold water on a washcloth before pressing it to his face. Hopefully this would help the swelling, and hopefully he didn’t cry again. 

He held the cloth there for a few moments before ringing it out to get it draped over the faucet before moving back out. There was a knock from his door and he silently came over, opening it. His mother was there, voice soft,” I’m going to make some sandwiches, do you want one?” “No… I was thinking of cleaning my room.” “You haven’t eaten since breakfast,” she gently prodded,” come on. The room can wait.” 

It still felt like a trap. How she was suddenly nice to him. He didn’t know if he should like it, but still, he was hungry and his energy felt nearly depleted. “Alright,” he grumbled, moving to follow her back down to the large kitchen. He sat at the little bar area in the middle of his half-brothers, sighing softly. 

Robin moved to get ingredients from the double door fridge, absently flicking the radio on to fill the silence. She got plates set up before getting started on the sandwiches,” what drink do you boys want with it?” 

Ryan chimed for apple juice which Adam nodded for and Sam was just quiet. She glanced at her oldest, voice soft,” Sam?”

He finally came back from the zoning out he was in as he looked at her. “Apple juice is fine.” After he spoke, his eyes dropped back down to the gray tile of the counter as she just opted to work on their lunch. 

Plates were soon placed in front of them before she moved to grab three glasses for juice. Getting them placed on their table setting, she got a bag of chips open and dumped into a bowl before placing it in front of Sam. “Now, eat up you three. It’s the best thing you can do after crying a lot. Your body needs the energy back.” Ryan and Adam didn’t have to be told twice, but the new kindness was still unsettling to Sam while he grabbed a handful of chips to place on his plate before munching on one. 

Eventually, Robin made herself a plate and leaned against the counter as she ate, watching Sam a moment. “What do you think you want to change in your room?” 

“I dunno … maybe everything. Maybe some doors for my closet.” 

“If you won’t break them, I can get a contractor to see about the space.” 

“I won’t … Can I paint the walls?” Glancing up, he gave a small shrug, popping another chip into his mouth afterwards.

“Anything but black.” 

He took a bite of the sandwich, thinking for a moment as he tried to think on what he even wanted to do. “I was thinking of a slate color.” 

Robin nodded a moment as she listened,” that would be nice, especially with all the windows you have there.” And it would hide all of the spray paint you sprayed everywhere. She took a chip, hiding her mouth with her hand while she chewed momentarily,” would you want new furniture? I don’t know if the wicker can be salvaged from the spray paint on it.” 

“I can paint it over… it just needs to be sanded and primed.” 

“Alright, if you’re sure, we can go get paint after lunch for the walls. Do you want to do your bathroom also?” 

“Yeah, a light gray.” 

“First, we’ll do your room then the bathroom.”

“Can we redo our bedrooms, Mom?” Ryan chirped out, grinning at her with some mustard smeared on his cheek. She chuckled as she came to wipe it off. “If you want, but Sam’s first because he’s the oldest.” And I hate the sight of that room. 

After lunch had been eaten and dishes were taken care of, she took a brief trip to get paint samples. Returning, she told him to make patches of the colors on a section of the wall to figure out which one dried best. He nodded as he moved back to his room, getting inside with the bags of four samples. He first moved to get all of the posters and images down around his room before getting the dresser pulled back from the wall holding his bathroom door in the corner. He got squares painted up and penciled on the wall beside them which color was what before he looked to his room. 

Well, might as well clean it. He began with gathering up the clothes, working in silence before he couldn’t handle it anymore. Getting music flicked on, he steadily worked on cleaning his room out. He gathered up the makeup he had stolen from stores, throwing it out along with the various materials he used for huffing. He started to go through his clothes, clearing out some of them. It felt like he had just started when he was called for dinner, but his room was finally cleaned for the first time in forever. Well, at least he could see the floor now.

It was strange to see the walls so empty. He brought the beads he had gathered to the side from the bathroom door down first before he headed down, stomach aching finally while he registered his hunger. Cleaning was a good distraction though ... Maybe the renovation would help.

The time for his first day of school came, and god, he didn’t want to face the bullshit of introductions and trying to find his classes … Or getting shit on like usual. Alyssa tried to talk to him, but the summer had been such a shit show, he didn’t want to really talk to her. Not after she admitted to kissing his father when he was on morphine. He moved through the halls to get to his locker, and Nick came up to him, confused at his appearance. 

“Yo, what the fuck, dude. Where’s your piercings and shit?” His eyes were wide while a brow arched, glancing over him.

“Gone. Stuff happened this summer, okay?” 

“Yeah, dude. We were wondering why you weren’t at Lake Tahoe with us, it was so fucking fun dude. I was high most of the time or fucking,” he grinned lazily at Sam. 

Well, at least Sam’s guess of how that trip would have been was right. “I was with my father working on a house.” Sam shrugged absently, glancing over to Nick. You know … just before he died.

“Duuuude , that sucks. I bet that was boring.” 

He remembered demolishing the old house, thinking about how stress relieving it was. At least, when he had finally decided to help. “… It was kind of fun.” He shrugged as he swapped out a few textbooks for his starting class. 

“Sam, you hate your father. What the fuck? It was fun?” Brows furrowed as Nick looked over him trying to piece who his friend had become in a few months. No piercings, earthy tones, the blue in his hair had severely faded out and his hair wasn’t as styled as usual. Not to mention the clear lack of makeup.

Sam slammed the door shut as he looked down at Nick,” I said stuff happened. That’s all you need to fucking know. Okay?” There was the normal Sam.

“Chill out dude,” Nick rolled his eyes,” you know, this might be the year I finally dump your ass.” 

Irritation was already building up in Sam from the conversation,” then just fucking do it already like everyone else. I don’t give a fuck,” he moved past him to get to his science class, weaving through the crowd. 

As the school day progressed, Sam just isolated himself more and more, focusing on the work for once. He got to his car after the last class dismissal, getting inside with a slow sigh. He hit his forehead against the wheel for a moment before starting the car up. He could get some coffee. He got his window rolled down a bit before he lit a cigarette, starting to drive to the nearest coffee shop. 

Getting parked when he had his black coffee in hand, he just sat and smoked as music played. On day one, he lost his friend, nearly fought someone at lunch, and already got a threat of going to the principal. He sighed softly as he leaned his head back, shaking his head absently while taking a slow drag.

“Fuck this.”

It was never going to get better, was it?

Unfortunately, it didn’t really seem to. As the weeks of the new year went on, he started to fight with his mother again. To Robin, it seemed like the summer with his father didn’t change him as much as she hoped as the winter break started to approach.

Sam just focused on his room, the walls now painted while the bed frame as it dried in the garage. His mattress was flopped on the floor for now as he laid on it after completing his homework. He had his headphones on with his eyes shut, absently holding some of his comforter as he had locked his door once again. 

He knew that the niceness from his mother was just fucking performative as he laid there. His eyes slowly opened to look at the ceiling as he thought things over. 

I will never be good enough for her, would I? What the fuck am I doing? Why did I destroy my room? All in the name of Dad's memory? No. Fuck this. This isn’t who I fucking am, he thought as he moved to pause the CD before making his way downstairs. Luckily they hadn’t donated much of what he had been through and he hauled the bags of clothing back up to his room. He dumped them near the mattress on the floor, some shirts spilling out before he left his room to hunt Robin down.

He found her in Peter's previous office on her computer, brows furrowed in concentration before looking up as her eldest entered. Here we go.

“Can I borrow $40? I'm going to the mall," he asked, arms crossing over his chest while his gaze bore into her slightly.

“Alright, be back for dinner.” She sighed softly, getting a $50 bill out for him. “Use the extra ten for whatever or food. I don’t have smaller bills.” Something was happening with him again, but she didn't have the energy to try to fight him back on it. Landing them right back to square one before the summer.

Sam took it from her, getting it shoved into his pocket while he gave a small grumble of thanks. "I'll be back soon."

He got to the local mall before navigating his way into the Hot Topic he had definitely stolen from before. he had gotten a little too good at it, and the employees never knew... Though, theft wasn't unheard of in the store. What was another person using the five finger discount? This time, Sam was hoping he could find some new AP magazines for posters and maybe some new jewelry. Maybe I could get a job too. Then I would have more money for shit. 

He got past the metal doors, brushing absent strands of curls back from his forehead as he entered the dimly lit store. God, there was so much new shit. He started to look around, noticing there was a hiring sign out. He asked about it to an employee and was soon at the back counter filling out an application for associate while leaning against it heavily as the manager watched him on occasion after returning from her break. After he filled it out, he moved to flip through the stack of magazines on the side display case. He wasn’t so sure he wanted Manson everywhere again, but he could try to find maybe a Nirvana one or something. Anything to take up the space on his walls. He found a few that interested him before he moved to get to the jewelry racks until a cool looking pair of pants had caught his attention. Still, he knew that pair would eat up half his money. He started to look through the jewelry once again, grabbing a few rings and a necklace before moving to find the hair dye.

He looked over the items he had before calculating how much he had already spent before determining he could buy dye. Picking bright red, he made his way back to the register while smiling a moment. A nice change. Something different than blue. While leaving the store, he absently checked his phone for the time, making a soft sound. Still some time until dinner. Getting to the FYE store, he started to browse through CDs, quiet as his head absently bopped along to the music from the speakers. The hours started to pass as he began to look through CDs, starting to accumulate a pile of possible purchases. It wasn’t until his phone started to vibrate that he realized the time. He answered it as he grabbed a TOOL CD, heading to the register,” I’m checking out at the CD store. I lost track of time.”

His mother gave a slow sigh,” fine. Just be here in thirty minutes.” It wasn’t long before she hung up after that, and he soon paid for the CD silently with the employee. He tucked it into the Hot Topic bag, heading out with a small nod of thanks to the cashier. 

He felt a little better as he got into his car, setting the bag in the passenger seat as he started it up. He knew it just wasn’t a fucking phase. He had felt so miserable, and constantly like he wasn’t even himself while working on his grief. Not  He had experienced bad moments of a dissociative state, and God, he hated every single one. It was unnerving that he wasn’t fucking high but his body just doing it. 

A horn going off somewhere in the lot caused him to come back, breath soft as he backed up to head home. Maybe one day he could find more posters or tapestries or something. One day, his room will be back to normal and maybe he would feel better... more like himself again. He headed on the route to home, fingers tapping along the steering wheel. The drive had been uneventful and honestly, Sam didn't remember most of it while he parked in the drive way. He sat in his car for a moment, lighting a cigarette again to just have a few more precious moments before an awkward, silent dinner. Once he finished it, he soon came inside, heading up the steps quickly to toss the bag onto his mattress before heading to the garage.

He poked at the black painted headboard experimentally, pulling his fingers back to check his skin. Thank fuck it was dry.

Moving back inside, he got to the dining room where his mother and brothers waited for him before he sat down. He didn’t speak as he ate, his brothers chatting about school and their friends. He didn’t have any updates of his own, so why would he talk? His mother was more than happy to have silence from him instead, listening to Ryan and Adam as she ate. 

As soon as he finished his plate, he moved from the table to take care of it before he moved to the garage to get the pieces of his bed frame back into his room. He got some help from the live-in maid, Trish, getting the pieces into his room before he set to work on reassembling it. Setting the bed in the same spot as before, he got the mattress back on before he half-assed made his bed again. He would just kick the sheets around in his sleep, it didn’t matter if it was made or not.

Sam grabbed his CD player that was on the floor and got onto his bed once again, getting the new CD unwrapped and popped into it. Soon settled down on the bed, Sam was again staring at the ceiling. God, I would do anything to have weed right now. A flash of the summer came when he was about to sell himself out for money before he pushed that idea away as disgust came at himself. Why am I so fucked up? Besides, if I get a job, then I don't have to fucking do that.

Easy answer: he was nurtured into it. He thought of the previous years, and he hadn’t truly been happy since he was six before the divorce. Nothing ever seemed like it would get better. Not since his mother remarried that fucking asshole, not since he got half-brothers, not since he started using when he was twelve to just feel something. He was fucking depressed and it felt like no matter what he did, it was never good enough or that he wasn’t enough. 

Robin had walked in on him having a fucking scarf tied around his fucking throat in his broken closet and she still didn’t ask if he was okay. Instead, she went to her then second husband saying he needed a man in his life. He had lingered in the hall to see if maybe she would say something good, but there was no concern. Just disgust. He was disgusting to his family. He doubted that it had changed since George's death.

So, why should I try to make them feel better by conforming?

He shut his eyes slowly, letting out a slow breath, fuck it.

Fighting with his mother was beginning to be a daily occurrence as Sam got a nose piercing and got his lower lip piercing again. Luckily, since he had taken care of his ear piercings, he was able to get some back into the lobes but not tragically not the cartilage. He started to swipe makeup once again from the drugstores, and he believed he felt a bit better. His teachers were surprised as he slowly looked like himself again, yet he wasn’t neglectful of the work this time. In fact, he was getting almost straight As now. He was sober even if begrudgingly, and left his shitty friends behind. In September, he did finally make a new friend, a boy who just moved from New Mexico, and he was just happy with that. 

He had gotten a little close to his history teacher, often lingering in the classroom after school ended to do homework and ask about certain eras. He was lingering now with Matt beside him as they worked on a science project together, each of them having an earbud from Matt’s pair as they listened to the TOOL CD. Matt moved his pencil to circle an area with the eraser on Sam's paper,” that’s supposed to be a different formula.” 

He looked at the formula, brows furrowing as he glanced over to Matt,” that’s the one we were given.” 

“It’s the work formula, not for the kinetic energy that you need.” Tilting his head, he leaned over again to get a better look at Sam's paper while brushing some dark brown strands back from his eyes.

Sam let out a slow sigh as he slowly melted to lay his head on the desk. “I can never get it no matter how much I try. I’ll pay you to finish it. I can’t focus. I give up." 

Mrs. Nellings watched the two of them with a soft smile as she heard the struggling while she worked on grading. It was still good to see Sam making some connection that was within his age group. She had certainly heard about his behavior through the years, but she couldn't believe that it was him now. Then again, he did lose a loved one.

Matt watched Sam with softening green eyes, patting his back,” it’s alright. I can do it. I know things have been hard again.”

That was still strange, being comforted and reassured. Still, Sam was reassured about it as he lifted his head, nodding. “Alright … But I’m buying us tacos or something.” 

“You know I can never deny my love for Taco Bell.” Matt dramatically said as he placed a hand over his heart as he watched with a brow arched up in amusement. 

“I was thinking more like a taco truck since … y’know. California. Maybe some elote too. Y'know, not that shit they slop around at the Bell.”

“Hey, don't talk about my beloved," he grinned, eyes lighting up at the mention of a truck. "Oh, fuck yeah. Just give me all the papers, and I’ll make a page so you can write it down another night.”

Sam nodded as he gathered up everything to give it to him for far better safekeeping than he could ever do himself," alright. I guess that'll work. I doubt I'm going to ever use physics ever in my life."

Placing everything into the project folder, Matt soon was shoving it into his backpack with a small shrug. “Never know, dude. Might be handy one day ... Buttttttt, I am hungry, so I’m demanding payment now.”

Sam snorted as he rolled his eyes briefly while getting up after zipping his bag up,” alright. Let's go then.” Motioning Matt to follow, he navigated through the empty halls of the school to get out into the parking lot. Grimacing at the familiar heat, he led Matt out He opened the trunk to throw his bag in after getting his wallet from the front pocket as Matt chucked his into the trunk with a grin.

After getting inside and getting it started up, Sam started the way to find one of the taco trucks, humming along with the CD in his car playing. 

Matt absently drummed on his thighs as he watched the passing scenery, glancing at him. “I did mean it, though. It is okay if you can’t grasp concepts. Not everyone’s brain is wired for physics or science and math.” He looked over to him again, a soft, reassuring smile on his lips before looking ahead to the road.

Sam glanced at him briefly, scoffing momentarily,” yeah, but I’m not good at anything.”

“That’s not true. You’re pretty good at art, and you’re very talented at writing. Maybe you could be a comic writer one day.” Matt's thick brows furrowed, letting his gaze return to his friend then as he tilted his head.

“I don’t know about that. I don’t have a story to tell.” 

Matt moved his hands up in a wild, grand gesture,“ You could scream from the mountain tops how parents shouldn’t be shitty. Show how much it damages someone.”

“There’s been enough media about that already.”

“Yeah, but I think your story is pretty unique.” Matt shrugged absently before looking out the window,” not every day or every summer you build a fucking house with your dad before he’s gone.”

“Yeah, and if I publish it, Mom’ll be pissed and screaming at me again for how I portray her and her exes.”

“It’s just the truth though. They’ve dragged you through fucking hell, dude. Yeah, you have your anger moments and you sometimes say shit that hurts, but it’s not purely malicious. It’s literally because you’re hurting.”

“Okay, don’t turn into Freud.” Sam shook his head, glancing at him.

“It’s the truth, Sam. I know you for you, and I’m happy I’m able to. People have beaten you down so fucking much you think you’re nothing and that isn’t right. You’re really the only person that actually started to talk to me after I moved here from New Mexico. Plus, I know the shit others say about you at school.” 

“You had a cool Metallica shirt. I had to say something.”

“And I appreciated it and now you’re stuck with me,” Matt laughed softly, grinning brightly at his friend. 

Sam glanced at him, a hint of a smile coming before he shook his head as he pulled into a lot,” more like you’re stuck with me.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with me, motherfucker. I annoy everyone.” 

“You’ve never annoyed me … Well, minus when I’m already irritated.”

“That doesn’t count because it’s usually your family or an asshole at school.” 

Matt leaned back, and Sam nodded,” yeah. Usually. I can’t wait to fucking graduate … Hopefully I’ll be able to move out fast.” 

“You can move out with me when we get jobs and shit. Maybe find a third person to bother the both of us.” He nudged him, grinning as Sam was able to park,” we’ll get you out of there, Sam. You deserve better … Maybe some therapy too. But for now, we get tacos and elote and have a good time.” He moved to slide out as Sam watched him, shaking his head absently before getting out. 

They got to the truck, getting in line as the after school rush hit food establishments around town. He was quiet as he looked over the menu, deciding on lengua tacos with a coke. It was such a good combo, he couldn’t help it. Too bad he didn’t have any weed to fucking ascend into another dimension for a bit. He looked to Matt,” what are you gonna get?” 

“Probably two beef tacos with jalapeños like normal. If it’s not broke, don’t fix it, know?” He shrugged as he looked up at Sam,” What are you gonna get?” 

“The lengua with the green sauce on it.” 

“Oh shit dude, you’re like a taco connoisseur.” 

“No, I’m not,” he snorted, shaking his head,” it’s just good. Especially with the onions and when you have a cold bottle of Mexican coke.” 

“Oh, dude, always the bottle,” Matt grinned again,” fuck it. I’ll try your order. See if you got a good palette.” 

“I don’t know about that,” he snorted, shaking his head as he got to the window. He at least knew how to speak the order in Spanish, three shitty years of it coming to his vague aid. He paid in cash, moving to the other window to wait for the order to be called out. 

Matt followed along,” this is gonna be so good.” 

“Yeah, they also have trays so we’ll get everything on one, then we can sit in the trunk of my car and eat.” 

“Sounds good, here, I’ll put our bags in the back seat,” he held his hand out as Sam fished the keys from his pocket, holding it to him.

Matt plucked the keys from his hand, grinning before he started the trek to the car that was a good distance from the food truck. Sam watched him as he absently listened for their order with arms crossed loosely to make sure he made it. Squealing tires soon filled the air as a car turned fast into the lot to barrel through to the other side, and Sam noticed before Matt did, calling out for him. 

It was a few seconds too late as Matt was hit by the speeding car that only sped off faster after the collision, a few people screaming as Sam immediately ran over to his friend. “Matt! Fuck. Matt,” he crouched down to see his friend covered in blood with body crushed from the tires. He didn’t hesitate to call for an ambulance, hand shaking. Matt was unconscious already, blood starting to stain his shirt on his side.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

He stayed beside his friend as the police lingered at the truck for eyewitness testimonies after securing the scene. Luckily, he was allowed to go with Matt to the hospital, watching him closely as he chewed on his thumbnail as he rocked a little. An EMT was focused on driving while another was in the back with them, trying her best to reassure Sam that Matt had a high chance of survival. Sam knew better. That speed and the sounds that came from the impact. Matt would be lucky if he bounced back. 

At the hospital, he gave as much information as he could to the receptionist and nurse to contact Matt’s family, but he was soon sitting in the lobby. He pulled his phone out, shakily calling his mother then as he rocked back and forth again, fighting tears back. 

She answered in irritation coating her voice while she tried to fix a necklace,” where are you, Sam? It’s late.” 

“M-Matt got hit by a car,” he said shakily as he wiped his face. Fuck. However, his voice and tremble caused her to put the pliers down as her irritation melted to worry,” what? Are you okay? Is he okay? What hospital are you at?” 

“I’m at Healdsburg General … just in the l-lobby. I'm okay, but I don't know what's happening with him.” 

“I’m on my way, did you drive there?” 

“No. My car is in a lot … uh ... 34th Avenue near a taco truck. My spare key is in the kitchen.” He leaned back against the back of the chair, staring at the florescent lights until his eyes began to burn.

“Okay, I’ll get Trish to drive it home, but I'll come to you … Do you need anything?” She stood up, glancing at the clock. God, it was already so late.

“F-Food.” He whimpered out as he shut his eyes tightly leaning over his legs. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there in a moment. Trish will bring your car.” She moved to find Ryan in the back in the pool, calling for him to come with her as Adam looked up from his book as he sat at the patio table.

“Everything okay?”

“Sam’s friend got hit by a car and is in the hospital. I need to have Trish and the two of you help get his car back here while I go to him.” 

Sam was still on the line, hearing them as they started to move around the house quickly. Robin soon spoke again to him,” I’ll be there in about an hour and a half, maybe two with traffic. Okay?”

“O-Okay.” He quietly said, sniffling, hanging up only moments later as Robin moved to find the housekeeper. First, she would have to help her find the car before heading to Healdsburg, and hopefully somewhere close was a place that Sam liked to eat from.

Stacy watched from her reception desk, heart softly aching for Sam as she watched him sit with his head in his hands. God, he already seemed in shambles, and he had said he needed food. She absently told Denise she would be back before she moved closer to him, voice soft,” do you want some money for the vending machine while you wait?”

He looked up, nodding while she gave a soft smile,” alright. Hold on.” She moved to the staff room to get $10 out from her purse, pausing to grab some tissues as well. Making her way through the lobby, she saw Sam pathetically leaning his head against the wall, staring blankly at the doors leading into the main hospital. "Here, it's not much, but it's at least something to help you until they come."

He took the tissue box from her first, using up a few to blow his nose and wipe his eyes. “Th-Thank you.” 

“And as promised,” she held the bill out,” the machines are down the hall to the left.”

He nodded as he took it, straightening up then with a weakened thanks to her. He got to machines, looking over prices in the soft glow of the lighting before getting a Sprite, Doritos, and barbecue chips. He returned to the lobby, giving Stacy the change with a soft thanks once again before sitting down. Staring at the packaging, he tried to wrap his head around the evening, focusing on food to avoid his head from wandering too much as the harsh crinkling of the package soon echoed in the lobby.

The doctor came out only thirty minutes later, pausing while looking over paperwork. “Sam Monroe?” 

Sam lifted his head, giving a little nod as he straightened up. “Yeah?” 

“Is Matt’s family here?” Making his way over, Dr. Keller's tall frame gracefully weaved through other patients and family members before the blond was next to Sam.

“No … our families are a bit away. My mom said 90 minutes to two hours. I … don’t know how long it’s been, but I can try to call her.” He started to get his phone out from his pocket after rubbing the barbecue dust off his fingers. 

"You don't have to do that Sam." The doctor sat beside him, letting out a slow sigh as he gently placed a hand on Sam’s back,” unfortunately … Matt has passed away from his injuries.” 

Sam stared at him as he stopped, brows furrowing as he blinked rapidly,” I don’t understand.” 

“His ribs punctured his lungs in three different places, his spine was shattered and had a lot of internal organs bleeding from the hit.” 

Sam shook his head,” no. No. No. ” His voice started to get desperate," he can't be gone. He's the stronger one out of the both of us. He can't fucking die from a fucking car!"

Dr. Keller’s lips pursed as he watched as the tears started to fall again, pulling his hand back cautiously as he started to try to comfort him.

Standing up, Sam's hands started to shake,” Fuck.” God, I could really use a fucking blunt right now. Ignoring the doctor, he moved outside before he started to hit at one of the columns with his fist to at least avoid some public humiliation,” fuck, fuck, fuck!” His knuckles soon were bloody and aching from the concrete tearing the skin before he crouched down, tucking his hands into his chest. "FUCK." His shoulders started to tremble and chest began to ache as he started to sob, trying to stay quiet.

The doors to the ER soon opened, and Dr. Keller slowly made his way over after telling security that it was alright. He's just grieving. He's just a teenager. It's a lot for him right now. Leaning over to place his hand against his back gently, his voice was gentle,” come back in, Sam. I’ll get your hand bandaged up. You can’t have an infection or leave that exposed.” Taking a moment, he knew that the doctor was right, soon following in one of the side rooms to get his hand wrapped. 

Dr. Keller softly spoke as he started to clean the pale knuckles,” I can see he meant a lot to you Sam. I’m sorry we couldn’t have done more, but I’m assuming the car was traveling at a high speed.”

“It w-was,” he choked out,” it happened too f-fast. One m-moment he was heading to m-my car, and another he was on the fucking ground.” Breaths were unsteady as his brows scrunch in pain while his knuckles were disinfected, hissing out softly in pain.

"You're going great, Sam. I need to make sure it's cleaned up before I can put any ointment on it. Looks like you got some particles actually in the wound," Keller lifted up the cotton ball with his gloved hand, looking at the little specks of dirt he had cleaned off from the wound. "Unfortunately for hit and runs, it's common. It's rare that aid is ever given."

“Can I see him? ... Please?" Blue eyes lifted up to the doctor for a brief moment before watching the cotton ball be discarded. 

“I don’t suggest it,” he shook his head,” that would be the last memory you have of him. That impacts a lot of people more negatively than if they didn’t, even if they witnessed the trauma.”

“I’m going to see him at his funeral,” Sam grumbled out, wincing again as a gauze pad was placed on top of his knuckles.

“Yes, but with that, he is at least prepared for viewing ... wounds are mended with putty and makeup to make him presentable. Right now, it’s the early stages and frankly, he looks like hell. I don’t suggest it, Sam. Please.” Green eyes were gentle towards the teenager as he gave a soft pat to his forearm, offering a weakened smile to try to comfort him from the loss.

Sam watched him for a moment as he started to wrap his hand up,” … Okay… I won’t.” 

“Good. I promise it will be better in the long run for you.” He got the wrapping secured, standing,” come on. Let’s go back to the lobby.” As they got out, the families were there, and Sam moved to his mother who held a McDonald’s bag in hand,” Sam.” She held onto him as he buried his face into her shoulder, and the doctor moved to Matt’s family, delivering the somber news. His mothers started to cry, holding onto each other as his biological mother wept into her partner’s shoulder. 

Sam took a moment to pull away as they looked at him, Mary’s voice soft,” thank you for coming here with him, Sam. I know you meant a lot to him.” Sam only moved to hold onto her, and Jessica held onto the both of them. They soon ushered Sam to go back home and rest and they’ll tell him details for the funeral. He had waited long enough for them to just arrive. He took a moment, but Robin softly reassured him that it was okay and that there was nothing else he could do. However, she asked how much it would be to pay for bandaging his knuckles and the doctor dismissed it,” don’t worry about it Ms. Monroe. Just get home safely.” They gave another hug to Jessica and Mary before they headed out of the hospital. 

He somberly followed her back out as she passed the bag to him,” two cheeseburgers and fries with honey mustard. No pickles. I have a Coke in the car for you.” He nodded as she got him there, texting Adam and Ryan that they were on their way back before she restarted her car.

On the drive, he was slow to eat, but he ate everything. God. Winter break was going to be the worst. He shut his eyes as Robin glanced over at him, voice soft,” just rest, Sam. I’ll wake you when we get home.” 

He moved the seat back to lay down all the way back as she turned the radio off, letting him fall asleep. She was more worried now. Sam had at least been a bit more tolerable with having Matt around, but now he was gone. Not only was he gone, but the night was traumatic for her son. She only wondered how this would affect him and if he would be worse. She couldn’t handle the havoc of Sam anymore. She really couldn’t. 

When they were home, Sam at least took care of his trash before Trish gave him the key to his car,” I also found the original, it’s in the glovebox for now.” Sam just slowly nodded at the housekeeper, softly thanking her for her help. He moved up the stairs to his bedroom, getting the key on his shelf unit that had his CDs and record player before he moved to his bed after shutting the door. He thought a moment before working off his shoes and socks, getting at least his shirt changed before he crawled into bed. 

It never seemed to end. Would it? It felt endless. 

He got settled in bed, getting himself bundled up in his maroon comforter before he was asleep once again.

Winter break and the rest of senior year was difficult for him, but since he had clearly been through something, luckily most teachers were understanding and more than happy to help him. As he graduated, he only hoped that Matt was there. Somewhere in the crowd watching as he walked across the stage and out of high school. Maybe it could end now. Maybe it could be better…. Just maybe.

[askthekuvaqbrothers]

The Cleaner

Cletus clicked his tongue, looking upon the faces of his sleeping brothers. Their Father had explained that being identical was simply part of genetics, but not yet knowing the meaning of that word, he hoped it was something that could be changed.

Because he hated the idea of looking that disgusting. 

Argus was snoring, a trail of drool spilling from the corner of his mouth, while little flecks of gunk sat in the corners of his eyes. Rufus had ignored the ‘wash up being getting in bed’ rule and had steaks of grease and dirt all over his face, as well as snot crust on his top lip.

He rubbed his face on his sleeve to try quell the crawling of his skin. Hermes was still at work, so he couldn’t tattle and have them scold into cleaning up, and if he complained the two would brush him off- or worse! They’d try to spread their grottiness!

Holding up his beloved plush lizard, he gave a determined nod, “We’ll have to take matters into our own hands.” 

Poisonous flopped in agreement, finding itself tucked securely under arm as Cletus headed into the wash ‘room’. It was also a rule not to waste water, the resource a costly commodity among settlements, but Father would understand it was for the greater good. Once he’d positioned the stepstool by the sink, Cletus balanced Poisonous behind the tap, then attempted to hoist the bucket under the faucet. It clattered loudly, though he knew it wouldn’t be enough to stir the other two. It was much too big to fit beyond awkwardly lying on its side, where Cletus had to adjust the stool to the other side of the sink to reach the tap and start the flow. The liquid was slow to move at first, its yellow-ish grey colour only slightly more appealing than Rufus’ boogers. 

‘Ugh, that reminds me…’

He’d seen his brother wiping them under the table just the other night. With a frustrated grumble, he turned off the tap and wriggled the bucket upright, trying not to spill its contents. He carefully stepped down, only managing to hoist the bucket high enough that it banged into his knees as he carted it over to the dining table. Then he dashed back to collect Poisonous, as well as a scrap of fabric he could use as a cloth. He dipped it, wrung it, then squatted by Rufus’ usual chair. 

Before he could bring himself to check what disgusting display was on the underside, his eye caught the sight of something on the wall- smears. He shuffled closer.

‘Brown? No, they’re kinda red- oh gross!’

The shape of fingerprints clued him in. Argus was often the one with blood on his hands, either his own, or from trying to fix Rufus’ injuries. Why he felt the need to paint weird dot creatures on the wall with it was beyond Cletus. 

He stood, shaking his head, only now noticing with the light of the window behind him that the remains of breakfast were all over the table still- and the floor was in no better condition! Dirt and dust clumped in corners and smeared through walkways- the cooking pot was still sitting unwashed on the stove- The window there was spotted with who knows what-!

Poisonous slipped from his elbow, and he yelped as he twisted to save her from hitting the filthy ground. 

“Wha?! What’s going on?!”

Argus sat bolt upright, scanning the room for threats. The voice of his brother's distress was always an alarm to him, he quickly climbed off the bed and put himself in view of the upset Cletus. The green haired boy felt miserable at the mess, tears pricking in his eyes, and on instinct he held out an arm as an invitation for Argus to approach. He did so in turn, but as he came within a foot Cletus remembered how this had begun- at the sight of his drool smeared cheek! He withdrew his arm and instead, flung the wet rag still in hand directly at his brother's face, which it struck with a satisfactory slap. 

"Agh!?" 

Argus stumbled as Cletus closed the gap, planting a palm on the cloth to scrub it around, focusing on the offending mouth and andeyes. 

“Keep your grottiness to yourself!”

Argus tried to squirm away from the assault, ducking, then leaning back. When Cletus pursued, he changed tactics and moved closer, wrapping his arms around his brother's middle, hoisting him in the air. Cletus squawked again, but relented so he could grip Argus’ shoulders for support, the cloth falling into the space between them. 

“So you don’t want to be grotty hu?”

He turned and marched to the bed, where Rufus was now constricting a pillow in lieu of his brothers. Cletus turned and watched in horror as the filth smeared on the fabric, knowing Argus’ plan was to put him in that position. 

“Noooo!”

He made a desperate wiggle, which stopped Argus from moving as he put him off balance. As he swayed while trying to keep his hold, he lost his footing and spun, ending with his back on the bed and Cletus on top, letting him scrabble away. Now towering above, and with the damp cloth having followed him, he grinned.

“Prepared to be cleaned!”

He dropped onto Rufus' back, pinning him as the roughhousing roused him from his nap, though he didn’t make it to full consciousness before Cletus scrubbed at his face. 

“Mrph?!”

Argus rolled over, scrambling into a pouncing position.

“You’re cleaning terror ends here!”

He lept, but Cletus was quicker, jumping off the bed so Argus was left colliding with the confused Rufus. 

“That’s what you think!”

He’d barely made a dent in the smears, so there was only one choice- desperate measures. As his brothers tried to get up, he made a grab for the bucket, inadvertently losing his elbow pin on Poisonous as he got one hand on the lip of the bucket and the other underneath, making one mighty throw of the liquid it held. Having both just gotten to their feet, Argus and Rufus had nowhere to run as the water hit them dead on.

“Bwah, what’s going on?!” Rufus shook the water from his hair, splattering the area.

“I think we’ve been defeated.”

“We were fighting??”

Cletus put his hands on his hips, satisfied that his brothers were at least a little cleaner. Then realisation dawned on him as he felt the lack of warmth at his side. He scanned the floor, seeing his plush by the puddle on the floor, and then seeing Rufus raise his foot very purposefully.

“Don’t you dare-!”

The splash from the stomp had no mercy, sending water towards the bed, and Argus, and Poisonous-

Cletus dove, using his body to shield the lizard, letting himself be covered in water and dirt alike. Rufus cackled, stomping more, until there was little water left underfoot. Satisfied, he stilled, which Cletus took as a sign to pull himself from the floor, carefully carry and place Poisonous to their fathers study nook, then turn back to his brothers with furry in his eyes.

When Hermes returned home, he found three dirt covered children and several puddles across the floor.

[unknown-writez]

Misfit Toys

Chapter Five: Creation of Minx- Part Three

 He pulled me up off the bed and continued talking “Time to meet the gang. I took the liberty to get you some threads even stopped by your place for some things. You have a nice diggs.” he continued my head imagining my front door broken down and an apartment that was probably disheveled and ransacked. “Gordon and the rest of the GCPD are gonna get a kick out of that. I bet they think I was kidnapped.” I thought laughing in my head at the make believe reactions I could picture. “I threw away all the boring stuff of course. I’ll be right back, get ready then I can introduce you to everyone.” Jerome finished a hint of excitement in his voice that pulled me back down to earth. He pulled me up from the bed and spun me around making me a little dizzy before giving me a quick hug. His warm body against mine bringing a comfortable and weird sense of safety for a moment. I didn’t want to move. Letting go he turned to leave shouting “Don’t go anywhere without me!” over his shoulder as he walked out everything now silent. Looking around the large room I got the sense that we were somewhere expensive. The walls were painted a deep red and the floors were polished black and white marble. There was one king sized bed with fresh clean black bedding now all bunched up in a messy ball. Across from it on the other side of the room there stood two large black and gold wooden wardrobes in between them a long matching dresser holding a tv. Giving the room a 360 I noticed there were no windows on the walls. Only pictures of random stuff, a carved black marble fireplace and two black doors with fancy golden handles and detailings on the wall the black velvet headboard of the bed was up against. The doors on different sides of the bed. “One of them had to be a luxurious bathroom and the other was probably just a closet.” I thought walking over to one of the wardrobes the ground cold under my feet. Opening it up I was surprised to see mens clothes and a bunch of random stuff. “This must be Jerome’s room.” I concluded not wanting to mess with his stuff. I swiftly closed the wardrobe going over to the other one hoping it was my stuff. Opening the other I immediately recognized my shoes. All my different docs lined up perfectly. Going through the shirts I only found a few of my original tops most of them being new and flashy with cool designs, bright colors and different textures. Some  with leather straps or lacey others with metal rings and studs. Definitely not boring as Jerome put it. Deciding to get dressed I opened up some of the dresser drawers only to find the same style of a variety of bottoms. Some pants, shorts, skirts and undergarments. Going back to the wardrobe I skimmed the hangers finding a half orange half purple velvety top that was laced up with green cord and tied in The front and on the sides. Rummaging through the pants I found what looked to be the matching half and half corduroy bottoms. Taking off my old clothes I was wearing I threw them to the side onto the spotless floor and slipped on the new ones that fit like a glove. Going back I  grabbed a green military style belt and a pair of black holographic docs to finish it off. When I was done putting on my shoes I went to one of the doors near the bed hoping to find a bathroom my assumption being correct when I went inside and found a large golden framed mirror over a double black marble faucet with medicine cabinets on both sides a couple of drawers and regular cabinets under the sinks. On the other side of the room there was a big bath and shower and another door that led to the toilet. Walking in front of the mirror I had to admit I loved the way I looked despite my red eyes from crying so much and my crazy hair. I had always loved bright colors and statement pieces but could never wear them because of work. My favorite clothing items mostly sat in my closet unused till the weekend came. Now I felt like me. I felt comfortable in my own skin, something I hadn’t felt in a while.

[dollsonmain]

Anyway....

Worked on dolls yesterday. Should work on ponies today. Most all that’s left to do is finish deflocking those three I started on Tuesday, give a few plugs of hair here and there, and put lots and lots of curlers in.

And, of course, painting Mal’s ponies. Still. Because I am a bad person.

-

There is also a large and growing pile of dolls needing OzoneRoom time, and I’m trying to figure out how I want to do that. They’ll do best with as much of their surface area exposed as possible, so maybe I’ll use those kaiser stands that came in to stand as many up as possible (the stands are bear-size so short but wide clamps, maybe 3 or 4 dolls would fit in each if I put one leg in) and then blast them.

-

I still need to figure out which cartridge this shower faucet takes and get one so I can fix the problem and stop stressing about there being water standing down there. I am still tempted to just cap it off and leave it for some future owner, but would rather fix it especially since I THINK I can. I don’t intend to try to fix the faulty shut off valve, because it’s glued to the pipe and I’m just..... I don’t. want to. I’d be willing to attempt adding more shut offs for just the shower, though.

[a-hell-of-high-water]

The Man In The Shed Pt.2

  DAY 1

The alarm went off at 0500. It was still dark out but Simon knew that the sun would rise soon. So what if it was supposed to be a vacation? He thought to himself. Vacations don't mean losing the discipline that years of work instills in a man.

Riley was still sleeping at the foot of the bed, occasionally twitching. Still lulled by the distant sound of crashing waves on the cliffside, the dog chased imaginary soldiers and tore off imaginary flesh. With a sharp whistle, the dog immediately wakes up and pounces on Simon. Greeting him a good morning before running off the bed.

Simon follows, fixing the bed, making the comforter and pillows. He readies himself with what meager self care he had. That only being soap and water that could barely touch specks of remaining grease paint from years of use. 

He opens the faucet and starts to lather the soap in his hands. The water felt almost frozen due to the cold. He likes it that way. Once there was enough suds he started working the soap onto his skin. First with his cheeks, his nose, and his forehead.

Then it came to the eyes. He screwed his eyelids shut to avoid the stinging. Scrubbing as thoroughly as he can, hoping that all of the grease gets removed this time. His entire face is numb due to the cold. And the sudden gust of cold air didn’t help.

With the last of the suds rinsed from his face, he opens his eyes once more. Was the light above him this dim when he started? Bah, the property must be getting old. He mushes the towel to his face, mopping up the water. Each time his eye peaks through the fabric, he sees the light flickering. . .

. . .

.

.

.

After breakfast he leashes Riley and takes him out on a walk around the place, trusty secondary tucked into his jacket. He knew that encountering an attacker this far out was low, but Simon is a paranoid man. Better safe than dead, he thought.

He makes his way through the gravel road running through the property. Right in front of the cabin was a white wooden fence surrounding the perimeter of what would be a pasture if the old man owned any sort of livestock besides the poultry and goats that roamed about the property freely. The entire area was surrounded by heavy rose bushes and other native vegetation that Price chose not to eradicate. 

Down the east of the house was an artificial pond for the ducks with a small gazebo. Half of the water is covered in lily pads while the rest was speckled with bits of algae. It was (as far as Simon can tell- unkempt, but he wouldn't lie that there is a certain charm to it. 

As he was scanning the features of the area, he saw a man in a white work shirt and suspenders. The man remained still, seeming to stare directly at him.

 Staring was a strong word… because he doesn't even have a face.

And when Simon blinked, the man was gone.

He takes this as a sign that he should probably look at the other parts of the property before he sees some other shit. Yeah, look at other places. Like the shed.

[nancypullen]

Oh, Happy Day!

What a week it’s been and it’s just Wednesday.  Last Saturday we celebrated the grandgirl’s birthday (5!) and her big surprise was a trip to Disney World! They whisked her away the very next morning and she has been in princess paradise ever since.  The texts we’ve received with pictures show her living her best life.  It’s so sweet, and a little hilarious.  Oh, I wish I could share photos - you’d love it. Unfortunately, her parents have a strict rule about splashing her all over the internet and I don’t blame them one bit. Suffice it to say that I’m living vicariously through her, and it’s pure joy. So I’m flying high from all of that fun, and this is also the week that our cabinets are being painted!  I don’t even have the words to explain how happy that makes me. The company that we hired has impressed me.  They showed up early Monday morning and got right to work. They sanded and primed, and when they exited at the end of the day they left the kitchen spotless.  Not even a speck of dust from the sanding. The primer cured for a day, so they came back today and applied two coats of paint. That’ll sit for a day and on Friday they’ll bring our doors back (those went to their shop to be sanded, primed, and painted) and hang them and touch up anything that needs it. The cabinets look SO good. I’m excited!  I can’t wait to get this kitchen finished. All it will take to shut me up is granite, a new sink, and a new faucet.   I’m not high maintenance, I swear.  I was promised these changes when we bought the house.  Although I do have some ideas for a bathroom remodel...

 Anywho, I had Mickey take before photos of the kitchen so when it’s all finally complete I can share it here.  Night and day! Because the kitchen has been out of commission, I haven’t done as much cooking.  Last night we had salads. Tonight I picked up dinner from Shore Gourmet. Apparently there is a local delicacy that we hadn’t heard of - Chesapeake Chicken.  Grilled chicken breasts topped with crabmeat and imperial sauce.  Holy cow, delicious!  When I pulled the container out to warm it for dinner I told Mickey, “Hey, look! The longer I heat this the more people it will feed!”

I told him that I should call tomorrow and complain, “I heated it for 50 minutes and all I got was a dry two-person meal.”  Anyway, it was really yummy.  We’re stuffed. We definitely can’t eat that way every night, but in a pinch it was a good choice. Speaking of good choices, when I die I want to comeback as a house cat.  Our girls have it made.  This morning I snapped a picture of Molly and laughed when I noticed the background.  I’ll start at the beginning. Remember the saga of my poor back? I hurt it when I packed up the Mt. Juliet house and I was really struggling with pain down my legs as a result.  Physical therapy is the answer so because I am who I am, I looked up the stretches I’d be told to do at PT an just started doing them. Massive difference!  So now when I wake up I slide a heating pad under my lower back, and do my stretches.  I can pretty much move through my day pain free if I start that way.  When I’m finished, I put the heating pad aside and make the bed. I usually toss it on top of the trunk under the window, and Molly claims it immediately.

There’s my spoiled house cat, and just through the window, waiting patiently under the bird feeder is Stanley, an outdoor cat. He waits for an inattentive or slow bird, Molly waits for the sound of a can opener.  I wonder which one is happier?  On this sunny and warm day, I’d say Stanley.  Last week’s cold weather would have tipped the odds in Molly’s favor.  We don’t know much about Stanley.  I’m not even sure of his gender.  He’s got a tipped ear with a number tattooed inside, so he’s a stray that’s been neutered (or spayed). He’s hefty, so he’s not missing any meals. He also looks healthy - bright eyes and silky fur.  He’s sweet, too.  Mickey is afraid I’ll move him in, but I don’t think Stanley is interested.  I hope I have his gender right, I’d hate to have to change his name at this point. I suppose he could be a  Hazel or a Mavis.  That’s about it from my corner of the world. I’m ready to go upstairs and soak in a bubble bath. A steamy soak, then warm covers and a good book. What a great way to end the day.  I hope that you’re just as cozy and have plenty to be happy about - bet you could list at least three things right now.  You have internet, you can read, and I’m finally wrapping up this post.  See? Easy three. Sending out loads of love tonight. Grab some for yourself. Stay safe, stay well.

Nancy