#weather in michigan right now

[blujayonthewing]

the steadily worsening climate change seasonal creep is having the same psychological effect on me as christmas creep, which is to say that I now have a reflexive negative emotional response to signs of spring before anything else, and then have to try and reorient when they're, like, actually seasonal

[roseofbattles]

The Midwest from the window of my car

[kamiitsubakii]

Even though my copy of the Fang comic won't be here until next week I might buy a digital version of it I desperately wanna read it and I'm impatient.

[marino6hughes]

IF SHE WANTS A COWBOY

ׂ╰┈➤ luke hughes x reader

summary: in which luke hughes wants to be your cowboy.

note: this is really short and my first time writting! enjoy.

warnings: fluff, childhood best friends to lovers.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Ever since you were little, you and Luke have been inseparable. Moving next door to the Hughes family meant spending countless afternoons out on the lake or out playing hockey on their drive way. Your friendship was the kind that weathered through all seasons. Over the years, the bond you shared only deepened, rooted in a shared history and an unspoken understanding that, no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you loved each other.

Luke's feelings for his childhood best friend had grown into something deeper, something he kept close to his heart. His love was silent but strong. He told no one about it. Not even his brothers. His love for you could be clearly seen and everyone knew was there even when nothing was told. He'd go to any lengths to make you smile, which was exactly what he was doing now. If you wanted to go line dancing with him he would be your dam cowboy.

She wants a cowboy, so I just might

Find me some boots that fit me right

You looked at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, enthusiasm as contagious as your smile. "Come on, it'll be a fun!" you insisted, tugging at his arm gently. He raised an eyebrow, skeptical about the whole line dancing idea. Noticing his hesitation, you playfully rolled your eyes and promised, "I'll teach you all the steps, and if you really hate it, we can leave, no questions asked." with a reluctant chuckle, he agreed. "Alright, but only because it's you asking," he said, and you beamed, wholly satisfied with your small victory. You were so in love with this boy.

I ain't never rode a horse

Or worn a cowboy hat

But I find me one that fits my head

Your boots clattered against the brick steps as you walked up to the bars entrance. The sound of music and people talking, and the sound of boots dancing could be heard as you approached the two large doors. It was a warm summer night in Michigan.

You pushed open the door, instantly being greeted with the smell of whiskey and a sight of a whole lot of cowboy hats.

“Will a drink ease your nerves?” You turned to Luke a cowboy hat perched on his head. His brown curls peaking out from underneath it.

He smiles, softly. “I think it might- it’ll at least get me on the dance floor, right?”

“That it will do” You laugh slightly claiming two chairs at the bar top.

He takes a seat beside you, his shoulders brushing against yours for a brief moment as he settles into his chair. He stares at you for a moment as the dimly lit bar makes your skin glow, long brown hair pushed away from your face with two braids. You looked fucking beautiful to him.

“Can’t get you too drunk cowboy or you really wont be able to dance.” You laugh nudging his shoulder.

A roguish smirk forms at the corner of his lips as he leans in slightly. His lips brushing against your ear "Don't worry about me. I can handle my alcohol," He reassures you with a cocky tone, his voice lowering. "It's my dancing skills that might need the extra practice," He admits half-jokingly.

Seeing him in denim jeans with brown cowboy boots that fit perfect on his long legs, a white shirt that looks almost made for him as it stretches around his biceps and a cowboy hat. It was too much for you. Any second your heart would tell you to act on your desires.

As the lively country music filled the air, Luke and you stepped onto the dance floor with a mix of excitement and nerves. You were already moving with a natural rhythm as you’ve done this before, your steps confident as your boots hit the wood floor. Luke, on the other hand, was a bit more hesitant, his movements awkward as he tried to keep up. occasionally tripping over his own feet while muttering hushed curses. His cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and amusement as he glanced at you. You flashed him a reassuring smile and reached out to guide his hands to the right positions. "Just follow my lead," you laughed, pulling him into the dance. Step by step, he began to catch on, your laughter blending with the music as you slowly found rhythm together. It was a new experience for Luke, but with you by his side, he felt like he could eventually master any dance. And he would for you.

And I learned to two step so I can spin her

Off her pretty little country feet

If she wants a cowboy then I'll be as cowboy

As the song picked up pace, Luke felt a surge of confidence. With a cheeky grin, he took your hand and spun you around gracefully. you laughed, lose strands of your hair flying out of from your braids as you twirled under his arm. For a moment, Luke felt like as if you were the only two people in the world. As you came back into his arms, your eyes sparkled with amusement, and you both couldn't help but laugh, caught up in the joy and exhilaration of the dance.

In the midst of your laughter and twirling, You could tell Luke was caught up in the moment and feeling bolder than usual, he blurted out, "I want to be your cowboy!" His words hung in the air, a playful yet sincere declaration that seemed to make the music pause for a second. You paused mid-step, surprise quickly melting into a warm smile. It was Luke's spontaneous confession that made you pause dancing, “You wanna be my cowboy?”

Find me a horse that I can cover

Find me some stars to sleep under

Find me a train, I'll hop out west

If she wants a cowboy, I'll cowboy the best

“Fuck.” He breathed. “I do, I want all of you.” He confessed looking down at you.

What the fuck. You thought.

His fingers grazed over your blush pink cheeks as he held your face, “I need you.”

You looked up at him, his 6’2 body towering over you. You searched his eyes looking for a sign, anything. His brown eyes tinted a light green seemed to carry a desire and by the way they stared back at you. You could tell he was slightly nervous.

As the song neared its end, Luke leaned in closer, his eyes locking with yours in a moment filled with anticipation. The playful energy that had surrounded you all night seemed to quiet down, replaced by a tender vulnerability. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair that had fallen from your face, his touch light but filled with intent, his fingers then grazed your cheekbone. Then, slowly, he leaned down to your level, “Can i kiss you?”. He whispered, you nodded as he connected your lips. You kissed him back. It was a soft, careful kiss, as he savored the moment with you. It held a promise of something more profound. The bar you were currently in seemed to fade away, and in the moment it was just the two of you lips connected by a kiss that spoke louder than words.

If you wanted a cowboy, he would be yours.

[therealcocoshady]

RED CARPET APPEARANCE 🎥

Eminem x Young Actress Reader

This is Part 2 of Daddy's Spaghetti 🥰

Synopsis : You argue with Em about a red carpet appearance at the Oscars.

The last thing you wanted was to argue with your boyfriend right before going to the Oscars, but there you were. Lately, the two of you had been arguing quite a bit. To be fair, both of you were working a lot and being in a long distance relationship didn’t help. Not only did you have to manage hectic schedules, you also had to deal with time difference and last minute changes in plans. You had been dating Marshall for a few months now and you weren’t too sure how long things would last. Sure, when you were together, things were great, but actually getting together seemed impossible, these days. Right when you thought you could both make time, there was always something coming up, like an unplanned studio session, a meeting, or God knows what else. It didn’t help either that Marshall was paranoid about the two of you being seen together. 

After more than a decade in the spotlight and living in Los Angeles, you were used to paparazzi and having your picture taken whenever you were running errands. Of course, sometimes, it was annoying, but you had learned to live with it. Marshall, on the other hand, in spite of having a career lasting over twenty-five years was as paranoid as one could get. It was one of the many reasons why he hated being in Los Angeles and always tried to get you to come to Detroit instead, along with the weather being too hot. In truth, you didn’t mind going to Michigan or spending a lot of time inside, just the two of you. This time, however, you wished he would be the one making an effort. You were nominated for an Oscar for the first time and it was a big night for you. You knew he wasn’t a big fan of public appearances but you wished he would agree to coming with you. After all, he was a nominee himself - for the same movie as you, mind you - and everyone pretty much knew about your relationship, even though none of you had officially confirmed it. To you, there was no reason not to walk the red carpet together. However, when you asked him if he would be your date to the Academy Awards, he wasn’t too enthusiast. In fact, all you got from him was a « erm, I don’t know. We’ll see. Let me think about it. ». And after giving it some thought, he decided not to go with you, breaking it to you over FaceTime, three days before the event. He brought up a bunch of reasons, like having a studio session with Dre that might run late and prevent him from making it in time, hating the red carpet anyway and not wanting to be paraded in a suit that made him look like a penguin. He did not seem to care that you having to take someone else as your date would mean you wouldn’t be sitting next to each other or that you would have wanted him to be by your side. You were mad. You had always known he didn’t really care about awards and public appearances, but you wished he would make an effort for you. Him being set in his ways made you feel like he wouldn’t put you first, just for once. 

Do you even want to be with me ? You blurted out after he told you to find another date. 

What the fuck ? He asked with disbelief all over his face. What does that have to do with that damn red carpet, Y/N ? 

You cancelled the last time you were supposed to come to LA, you’re never available and now you won’t even make an effort for me, you explained. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, just say so… 

You’re so dramatic, they better give you that Oscar, he groaned. Not everything is about you, you know ? I’m working my ass off to get the album done in time, I don’t need you complaining over a stupid red carpet appearance. 

Oh I’m being dramatic ? You asked as you stared at his face on the screen. I’ll give you drama : you can book a hotel room and forget about all the nasty things you were planning on doing to me in bed for next time we were supposed to see each other. 

Whatever, he said as he rolled his eyes. Just go and rehearse your acceptance speech. I have to go anyway. I have Dre calling on the other line. I’ll call you later. 

He did try to call you a couple of hours later, but you didn’t feel like picking up. You were still pissed off and, frankly, a little stressed out too. After all, he hadn’t answered your question about wanting to be with you. You knew you’d have to talk to him at some point - and get to the bottom of the situation, but you also didn’t want to break up over the phone merely three days before one of the most important events of your life. Whatever it was, it could wait until after the Oscars. 

You ended up walking the red carpet with your older brother as your date. The two of you were extremely close and he had always been your plus one to events. It sort of made sense to go to the Oscars with him, even though you would have loved to have Marshall by your side. Your big brother was all smiles as he watched you pose for the photographers in a stunning custom Alaïa dress. However, your attire or possible Best Actress win wasn’t exactly the main focus of the journalists, who were yelling questions about your boyfriend who was nowhere to be found. 

Where is Eminem, Y/N ? One asked. Is he coming tonight ? 

Are the two of you together ? Another yelled. 

You didn’t answer the questions about him, only the ones about your nomination, how you’d feel about winning, the movie and your outfit. You tried to focus on the positives and everything this night meant for your career, but you had a hard time focusing. All you wanted was Marshall’s hand in yours and him to be by your side. Hell, you had even picked the dress color because you thought he would like it. You knew that blue was his favorite color and had figured that, if the two of you were to walk the red carpet together, it would make his eyes pop. 

Breathe, your brother said. You look tense. Is this about Em ? 

Just call him by his name, you said as you rolled his eyes. You’ve met him. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to be your date and enjoy the open bar, he continued, but you look… upset ? 

I think he wants to break up with me, you said nervously. 

No he doesn’t, your brother scoffed. Where did you get that from ? 

Well, he’s never available, he didn’t want to be here with me tonight, and he called me dramatic, and… 

First of all, you are dramatic, your brother chuckled. Also, you know he’s working a lot… 

I should have known better than to ask his biggest fan for support, you said as you rolled your eyes. 

Just shut up and focus on your big night, sis, he said with a smile. My baby sister might be getting the biggest award there is for being dramatic, tonight. Now, I think we should focus on that, as well as the fact that stylists managed to make you look presentable. 

Your brother’s weird encouragement was a good way to make you smile, and the glasses of champagne waiters kept on handing you did a great job when it came to taking the edge off. You were taken to your seats and the ceremony began. You kept nervously searching for Marshall in the crowd but you didn’t manage to spot him. Was he skipping the whole thing ? Your mind wandered as the ceremony unfolded and you were soon on autopilot. It was your first time attending the Academy Awards and this had to be the longest ceremony ever. The only entertaining things were the various performances. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard the music of Marshall’s song - the one he had written for the movie. He was not supposed to perform tonight - this had not been announced - but he was on stage, rapping the song that got him his second Oscars nomination exactly twenty years after winning Best Original Song for Lose Yourself. The crowd was wild and you were excited as well. Seeing him on stage made you forget how mad at him you were and you were back to being his number one fan, gushing over how good he looked and rapping the lyrics at the same time, like the groupie you very much were. His performance got him a standing ovation and, twenty minutes and a commercial break later, he was back on stage, accepting the award for Best Original Song. Only this time, he was conforming to the Academy’s dress code, looking dapper in a tux. He might hate this type of outfit, but no one could deny he looked absolutely incredible. One detail did catch your eye : the bow tie he was wearing was made of the same fabric as your dress. He was matching with you ! 

When you wouldn’t return his calls, he called me to ask who you were going to wear, your brother told you. 

He did ? You squeed. 

Yep. Not the kind of thing anyone who wants to break up with you would do, I think. I’m not supposed to tell you, but he’s got another one to match your second dress, too… 

You couldn’t help but smile. The fact that he would go out of his way to call your brother, as well as the dressmakers to have a bowtie matching your dress was absolutely adorable. You couldn’t keep your eyes off Marshall, who was giving a heartfelt speech about how great it felt to have the Academy acknowledge hip-hop and how grateful he was to have the opportunity to be on this stage, two decades after Lose Yourself won. His speech was just like him : elegant and understated. When he went back to his seat, you could see him search for you in the crowd and you waved quietly, sending him a kiss. You couldn’t wait to go and hug him. 

Can’t you behave ? Your brother chuckled. There’s cameras, Y/N. And try not to eye fuck him or drool, this time, will you ? 

I’ll try, you giggled. 

You were almost in agony the rest of the night and the two of you kept looking  and smiling at each other. As always when the two of you were in the same room, you were unable to take your eyes off him for a single second. You didn’t pay much attention to anything else that was going on, so much so that you almost missed your name being called for Best Actress. Everyone around you got up and cheered for you and you were lost. You had actually won an Oscar ?! You ? It didn’t feel right. Bit it was indeed, your name on the screen, and people kept on looking at you. Your brother had to help you get up as you came to your senses and realized that your childhood dream had come true. You made your way to the stage as tears of joy were welling in your eyes. You were almost shaking with nerves as you started your acceptance speech. You had one written and memorized but you couldn’t remember it for the life of you. You spotted Marshall in the crowd, who was smiling and looking at you with pride in his eyes, mouthing a silent « I love you ». 

I… Wow, you said nervously into the microphone. I can’t believe this is happening. I had something really heartfelt, clever and funny written but I can’t remember a single word so please bear with me. Hum… Standing here, on this stage, holding this award is a childhood dream come true. First, I want to thank my family who has always supported my passion, and I’d like to thank everyone in Hollywood that gave me a chance to act. And everyone who didn’t. In fact, I want to acknowledge every person who doubted me. And every boyfriend of mine who called me dramatic. There have been a few, and you best believe I’m creating a group chat tonight and telling them that I actually got an award for being dramatic and made it my full-time job. Um… What else ? Oh, uh, thank you to my manager, assistant, glam squad… Shout out to Alaïa for getting me into this dress tonight, and shout out to Marshall Mathers who will be taking it off me tonight. Dreams do come true, guys ! 

The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter and you could see Marshall laughing before you exited the stage. When you made it backstage, you took a moment to sit and realize what just happened. You had won an Oscar. Oh, and you had accidentally mentioned Marshall taking off your clothes. On stage. While million of people probably watched the ceremony on TV… Oops. A few people came to congratulate you, though you were quickly ushered back to your seat for the remainder of the ceremony. The movie you were in did not end up winning Best Picture, but you easily got over your disappointment. When the ceremony ended, you were swarmed by an army of people who came to congratulate you. You even got to hug Meryl Streep and tell her how she was the one who made you want to act in the first place, and this was definitely the highlight of your night. Your brother had gotten out of your sight and was enjoying the open bar, as he always did whenever he came with you to an event. When the crowd began to vacate, you had a moment to yourself. That’s when you spotted your boyfriend. 

Congratulations, he said as he pulled you into his arms. 

Congratulations to you too, you said giddily. You were amazing on stage ! 

As were you, he replied with a smile. Great speech, by the way… 

Oh my God, I am so sorry, you said. I forgot my speech, and I-I… Are you mad ? 

It’s fine, he chuckled. You’re way too adorable for me to be mad. 

Really ? You asked nervously. I know how you are about privacy… 

Really, he said reassuringly. And with you looking like this… ? I am glad everyone knows you’re spoken for. 

I think they got the idea when they saw you matching with me, you said with excitement. 

You like it ? He asked with a smile. I had to ask your brother and harass the dressmakers. They hate me. 

He told me, you said giddily. And I know you have another one to match my dress for the afterparty, too… 

If you still want me as your date, that is, he pointed out. 

I do, you giggled. But I’m going to need your help to get out of this dress and into the other… 

Let’s go, then. 

He grabbed your hand and you walked out of the theater, holding your awards, while an army of journalists were screaming to get your attention. You half-expected Marshall to let go of your hand, knowing how guarded he was when it came to the press, but he only squeezed it tighter before grabbing you by the waist as you made your way to a car. 

Em, how are you feeling tonight ? A journalist asked. 

Have you seen my date ? I’m great, man, he grinned as he looked at you lovingly. 

VIDEO : WATCH AS EMINEM GUSHES OVER Y/N AFTER THE OSCARS

Eminem & Y/N have officially confirmed their relationship ! The couple did not walk the red carpet together but they certainly made a memorable exit, as Eminem gushed over his date to journalists while not letting go of her. This happened after Y/N hinted at Em taking her Alaïa dress off her in her acceptance speech. While the Rap God did not mention his girlfriend in his own speech, he certainly appeared in love. While known for his stoic face, he was seen smiling all evening, especially when they made their way to the Vanity Fair afterparty (almost an hour late, mind you…)  in matching outfits. And if he does not seem like one to kiss and tell, no one missed Y/N’s lipstick all over his mouth, nor the hickies in his neck. 

That night was a big one for the rapper and the movie star, as they both took home statues, respectively for Best Original Song and Best Actress. And from the looks of it, they certainly celebrated. 

[hazybisou]

❛ OH BABY, BABY ❜

🎧 🎸 every single little moment, every single little sunshine

summary - when walking the streets of Michigan, you never know what to expect. maybe that’s why y/n never expected for a little boy to literally run into her with his fine ass cute father behind him.

pairing - f!reader x single dad!quinn hughes

side note - dad quinn 😻😻 that’s all i got to say as of now. my mans so fine 😍😍 (this takes place during the summer so about right now)

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

the slight breeze blew through her hair as she hugged her zip up closer to her body and grabbing the hood, putting it on over her head slightly. y/n had decided the weather was warm but windy enough to go outside and take a walk and get some fresh air. she had the day off from her job as a social media photographer for the Detroit Tigers.

y/n loved her job. she knew the second she saw her sister take part in sports photography that’s what she wanted to do. she took an internship during her junior year at the University of Michigan and once she had graduated, she had applied for the job as one of the photographers for the Detroit Tigers. two days after her interview, she had gotten an email form the organization saying she had gotten the job. since then she had been working with the MLB organization.

the young woman had just turned the corner and made her way into a local park in Michigan. her hand made its way into her pocket and pulled her phone out. she grabbed her earphones out of the other and connected them to her phone before placing them in her ears. she quickly swiped and clicked on spotify before she began to hear the lyrics to ‘Stay Ready’ by Jhene Aiko as she slid her phone into her pocket once again.

the music seemed to block out the noises of the children’s laughter and giggling as they slid down the slide or swung on the swing, being pushed by their parents or siblings or other children. the noise of the cars passing by and their honking were muffled.

she began to think about her life here in Michigan and if she were to stay her the rest of her life. find the one, have kids, grow old. the idea seemed nice in her head but she knew things may never go her way as god had other plans for her.

y/n suddenly felt something hit her leg. she heard a little ‘oof’ and a thud and looked down to see a little boy with brown, wavy hair on the ground. she took her earphones out and placed them in her pocket where her phone was.

she kneeled down to the little boys height and helped him get up. “are you okay?” her eyes scanned his small figure to check for any injures.

“i sorry.” the little voice made her melt. she always had a soft spot for kids. “i didn’t mean to.”

y/n smiled. “i know you didn’t, it’s okay.” she looked around for his father or mother or anyone who might’ve known him. “where your mom?”

he shrugged.

“your dad?” she tried and the boy turned around and pointed towards the way he came from.

“he’s over there.” he told y/n and she looked behind him to see a man with a slight subtle and neatly styled hair looking around frantically.

he was cute.

“what’s your name?” she asked the little boy who looked up at her with big doe eyes.

“roan.” he stated proudly with a grin on his face. “what’s yours?”

her smile turned into a small laugh. “y/n.”

she saw the little boys hand extend. she placed her hand in his and he placed a quick kiss to it and let out a ‘mwah’ as he did so.

“aw how cute.” y/n cooed as she let out a small giggle.

roan leaned in forward. “daddy says when’s pretty girl is around, to kiss her hand when you meet her.” he explained. “you a pretty girl.”

“your dad seems like a wonderful person.”

roan nodded. “he is.”

she looked at him and finally wondered if his father had figured out he was over here with her. her question was answered when she heard the padding of feet get closer but slow down as they neared. she saw the legs of a person behind roan and looked up to find the man she saw earlier looking down at his son. he kneeled down to be eye level with roan.

“roan, i thought i told you to stay next to me.” the man scolded the little boy who looked up at the man while squinting his eyes at the sun.

“i sorry daddy. but i wanted to go play! you promised.” roan exclaimed with his arms up.

quinn shook his head. “don’t do that again, okay? you scared me.”

“ok.” roan whispered as he wrapped his arms around his dad. quinn took the little boy into his arms and y/n watched with adoration in her eyes as she stood up.

the pair pulled away and quinn stood up while roan went and stood by y/n’s side, grabbing her hand and holding it. “daddy i made a friend!” he exclaimed, excitement evident in his voice.

quinn looked down towards her. holy was she beautiful. her smile was warm and gave him a welcoming feeling. he never experienced that from anyone other than his own mother.

“hi, i’m y/n!” she held her hand out for quinn to shake with a smile on her face.

he took it in his own and shook it slightly. “quinn.” he let go of it and watched as she put it down. “it’s nice to meet you.”

“nice to meet you too.” she looked down at roan and shook their hands that were still held together . “roan here happened to run into me.”

“did he now?” quinn looked at the young boy who smiled sheepishly. “well i hope he said sorry.”

roan just nodded his head. “ i did. like you told me to.”

y/n laughed. “he was such a gentleman.” she looked at quinn. “roan’s a sweet boy.”

quinn’s eyes softened. “i’m guessing i raised him right if he was called a gentleman by a pretty lady like yourself.” the words left his mouth before he could even stop them. “i didn’t mean it like that, well like i did, but not like that. you’re very pretty-”

y/n let out a small chuckle. “it’s ok, i know what you meant.” she stood there for a second. “you’re pretty hot, you know that?”

quinn felt himself blush and turn red. “oh, um, thank you.” he looked down at his watch and his eyes widened as he noticed he would be late to dinner with his family if he didn’t leave now. “oh i am very sorry but we have to go and get ready.” quinn reached down and picked roan up before settled him on his hip. “do you think i can i get your number?”

“no, i’m sorry.”

quinn’s smiled faltered slightly. “oh it’s fine-”

“but can i get yours before i go?” y/n asked.

“oh, of course. uhh, can i-” y/n pulled her phone out and opened to her contacts before clicking on the add sign. quinn smiled and typed in his number. “here you go.”

“i’ll see you around then.” y/n said and she looked at roan. “bye roan! it was very nice meeting you.”

roan leaned forward in his fathers arm, wrapping his own arms around y/n and she did the same back, “bye bye!” he turned his head and placed a open mouthed kiss on her cheek with a loud ‘mwah’.

“cute kid.” y/n told quinn as she saved quinn’s number and put her phone away in her pocket. “bye quinn.”

“goodbye y/n.”

she turned around and began walking back to her apartment with quinn and roan on her mind. he was very attractive.

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

it was 10:13 pm and quinn has just put roan to sleep in his bed after coming back to the lake house from dinner with his family. he walked back quietly to his own room which next to roan’s and got into bed, pulling the sheets over his body. he grabbed his phone, in hopes he would get a text from a certain person. with no luck he sighed and put his phone on his nightstand, ready to drift off to sleep.

*ding*

*ding*

he grabbed his phone and saw an unknown number had sent him a text. he opened it and quickly saw who it was.

*** *** ****

though i forgot abt you or what?

roan’s daddy

just a little bit

y/n 💞

well goodnight quinn

send my love to roan

roan’s daddy

what abt me??!

y/n 💞

🫢🫢

maybe later

roan’s daddy

goodnight y/n

quinn turned off his phone and placed it where it was previously on his nightstand before he turned around and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep with y/n on his mind.

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

turned out way better then expected. anywyas daddy quinn got me feeling some type of way. isn’t roan the sweetest little boy?? ☺️☺️💕💕 first post ever since my last one

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

before - part one

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

it’s summer in austin, and you and joel meet for the first time.

a/n: the joel miller brain rot is real and your advocate is here to help! masterlist will be up shortly, special thank yous and shout outs to @psychedelic-ink @allfoolsinluv and @gnollengrom for letting me scream about this fic in your dms 🤍 I have thought of little else for the last 48 hours

word count: 3.4k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI - this part is not explicit but other parts will be, masterlist has further warnings, but no real warnings for this part except a lot of fluff?? and banter?? and I’m obsessed kthanksbyeeeee

✨I no longer have a taglist - if you’d like to be notified of new works/chapters, follow @friskito-library and turn notifications on!✨

You meet Joel Miller long before the world implodes.

It’s 2001, you’re fresh out of college, relocated to Austin, Texas where your parents have taken over an old hardware store that once belonged to your grandfather. Nowhere else to go and nothing else to do for the time being, you spend most of your time in the store, stocking shelves and chatting with customers, learning the different things the store keeps on hand, what has to be shipped in special order. It’s not much, but it’s something to do; you’re just happy to be back with your family after four long years at college. Sure, you came home for holidays when you could, but it wasn’t the same.

It still isn’t the same, not really.

The house you live in is foreign to you, not the same roof you grew up under. The people are the same, your parents clearly happy to have you back, your little sister overjoyed to have someone in her corner again. Austin is nice, the weather warmer than you’re used to after four years in Michigan, but it’s a welcome change. Summer seems to go on forever, and your weekends are spent basking in the sun, finding new places to explore, wandering the shops that neighbour the hardware store and beyond.

And then one day, everything changes.

You’re stood at the end of one of the aisles, fixing a stubborn display of plaster tubs that won’t stay upright, when you hear the bells over the door chime, announcing the arrival of a customer. You don’t stray far from the display, calling out a good morning! and returning to your work. Your sister is perched behind the register, flipping through an old magazine, and you hear the tell-tale squeak of work boots on the linoleum, the sound now all too familiar to your ears.

The boots move in your direction, but you pay the sound little mind until it grows closer. Most people who come into the store know what they’re looking for, and your parents had been careful to keep everything in the same aisles and shelves they’d been on for the past decade, so as to not disrupt the regular customers. From the corner of your eye, scuffed, dark boots step a little closer, and your eyes drag over from the display, taking in the man before you.

You try really hard not to let your eyes linger everywhere, but it’s hard. He’s…well, he’s hot. Dark hair, dark eyes, patchy facial hair that really shouldn’t work as well as it does. Long legs covered in dark jeans, a t-shirt that’s definitely seen better days and is straining against his broad shoulders and thick arms. It’s a classic look you’ve come to associate with every guy who works construction in Austin, but right off the bat, you know there’s something different about this one.

“Hi there,” he says, his southern drawl not as intense as some other folks you’ve talked to, but still there, coupled with a little quirk to his lips, an almost-smile that makes you instantly desperate to see the full thing.

“Hi,” you breathe out, curling your fingers around the metal shelving in front of you, abandoning the plaster display.

“I’m lookin’ for a quarter-inch drill bit,” he spits, nearly stuttering the request out. You’re stuck still for a moment, absolutely enamoured by the man before you. And it makes your own lips twitch, the way his cheeks flare red and he drops his gaze after a moment, rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m also assuming you work here but I now realize you don’t have a name tag or anything so I’ll just—”

You clap a hand over your chest dramatically. “Shoot. Must have left the stupid thing in the back.” He lifts his head, eyes going wide, the almost-smile returning. “Follow me.”

He follows you like a little lost puppy a few aisles down from where you were standing. He’s taller than you, by nearly a head, those broad shoulders almost blocking out the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. You may or may not let your hips swing a little harder as you walk.

“Any specific brand you’re looking for?” you ask over your shoulder, coming to a stop in front of the pegboard that holds bits of all sorts of sizes. “Or just a quarter-inch?”

“As long as it fits in my drill,” he answers, and you turn to the board, scanning for the right size. You can feel his eyes lingering on you, and you’re basking in it. When you find the right one, you pluck it off the hook and hand it to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, shoving your hands in the back pockets of your jeans after he takes it from you. “If it doesn’t fit, just bring it back and I’ll make sure you get the right one.”

The corner of his mouth twitches and he looks between you and the little package a few times, tapping it against the flat of his palm. His lips part, like he’s about to say something, but then your sister calls your name and your head snaps up.

“Come on up to the front when you’re ready,” you say, feeling a little bold and touching his arm as you step past him, “and I’ll cash you out.”

He watches you walk away, too.

“I need coffee,” your sister declares as soon as you’re within view of the front counter. “You want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” you reply, stepping behind the register, righting a cup of pens that’s fallen over. She slips down from the stool, flipping her magazine shut, and brushes past you, just as a now familiar deep voice reaches your ears.

“Thanks again,” tall, dark, and handsome says, approaching the counter with the drill bit and a tub of plaster from the display you’d been fixing in his hands. Your sister steps around him as he walks up, and turns to look at you over his shoulder, her jaw dropped, giving you two thumbs up. Your cheeks flare with heat, but you ignore it, taking the bit and the plaster when he sees them on the counter. “Are you new here?” he asks, and then rubs his hand up the back of his head, turning sheepish again. “Here being Austin, I mean. Haven’t seen you around before.”

You can’t help but grin back at him. “New-ish. Moved back at the beginning of the summer after I finished college. My parents took over this place after my grandfather died, and I can’t afford rent in the city, so here I am.” You ring up his purchase, tell him his total, and he fishes for his wallet, digging in the front pocket of his jeans. “For now, anyway.”

He presses his lips together as he pulls a twenty out of his wallet and hands it to you. “Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime.”

You punch in the right amount, letting the register drawer hit your hip as it shoots open. “Maybe you will.” You hand him his change, and as you press the bills and coins into his waiting hand, you offer your name with it.

“Joel,” he says by way of answer, and your chest puffs a little with the knowledge. “Miller. Joel Miller.”

Your grin widens. “Well, you have yourself a good day, Joel Miller. Hope I see you soon.”

He takes the bit and the plaster and takes a step backwards, walking directly into a display stand holding rolls of bright green and blue painters tape, sending it toppling to the floor. “Ah, shit, I’m sorry,” he grumbles, and you step around the counter, dropping to your knees, catching the tape as it rolls in a million different directions.

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him earnestly, righting the stand and getting back to your feet. “Now I have something to do.”

“You sure?” he asks, straightening, his cheeks burning red. “I’m sorry, again.”

“Don’t worry about it, again,” you laugh, gesturing towards the front door. “I’ll see you, Joel.”

“See you,” he replies, tacking your name onto the end, and you have to ignore the way the sound of your name on his lips sends a prickle up the back of your neck.

You watch as he walks out the door, the bell ringing again as he departs, getting into a pick-up truck that has definitely seen better days parked at the curb. He scrubs a hand over his face as he starts the engine, and then turns and looks at you through the glass, lifting a hand in a wave before he pulls away from the store. You lift your hand to return the farewell, and your sister walks through the door a moment later, two coffees in her hands, pushing one into your grip even though you said you didn’t want one. You sip it anyway.

“Who was that?” she asks, bumping her hip into yours.

“Joel Miller.”

+

He comes into the store nearly every day for a week. Always looking for something new, another drill bit or packages of nails and screws, a hammer, rolls of tape. He’s a carpenter, you learn, and goes bright red when you hint that must mean he’s good with his hands.

Your conversations are always brief, but sweet. He asks what you went to school for, admits he never got past a high school education, laughs when you tell him he seems to be doing pretty well for himself despite that. He shows up one morning with coffees for both you and your sister, and a box of doughnuts, earning a squeal from your sister and a bright thanks Joel from yourself. One afternoon, he’s in a hurry, having run out of drywall screws, cursing that he left his wallet at the job site, and you wave him off, all but pushing him out the door with a new box.

Then Monday rolls around, and you find yourself watching the door, waiting for the bell to signal his arrival. Every time the bell does ring, you jump, stepping out of whatever aisle you’re in, checking to see who’s walked inside. 

“I’m sure he’ll come by tomorrow,” your sister says when the clock hits two and there’s still no sign of him. “He’s probably just busy.”

“I know,” you say, brushing it off best you can.

The rest of the day passes like molasses, the minutes ticking by so slow you’re half sure the clock on the wall is broken. You even go so far as to check the batteries, earning a laugh from your sister. You curse yourself for flinching every time the door opens, doubly so when your father arrives to take over for the evening and you jump so hard you drop the stack of sandpaper boxes in your hands. “Sorry, honey,” he laughs, helping you pick up the boxes. “Long day?”

“Something like that,” you reply, putting the sandpaper on the right shelf before heading for the counter to grab your bag. “See you at home!”

Your father waves without looking, but calls your name before you can walk out the door. “Someone’s at the house, just so you know. Your mother’s home, of course, but I hired a guy to look at the back porch, asked him to fix the light in the hallway too.”

“Shouldn’t you be able to fix that yourself,” you joke with a smile, “since you own a hardware store and all?”

He just waves you off. “Get outta here.”

You laugh, pushing the door open, the bells jingling above your head as you step through. It’s just before dinner time, the sun starting to hang a little lower in the sky. The inside of your car feels like a sauna when you slide into the driver’s seat, and you blast the air conditioning, turning up the radio loud enough you can hear it over the noise. It’s a quick drive from the store to your house, and you’re too distracted by the song that’s playing on the radio to notice the rusty pick-up parked at the curb.

If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad.

Your mother is sitting in the kitchen when you walk through the door, calling her hellos, and you dump your keys and bag before bee-lining for the bathroom. The house is all one level, one bathroom shared between the four of you, and you flick on the light, turn on the shower, strip down quickly. The warm water is a balm for the long day, the tension that had been sitting between your shoulders melting away beneath the spray.

You wrap yourself in a towel afterward, collecting your clothes from the floor before flicking the light off again. You’re still humming the song from the radio as you open the door, wiping a drop of water from your cheek and—

“Joel?”

“Shit!” he mumbles, dropping the screwdriver in his hand. He’s standing right outside the bathroom, balanced on a step-stool. Fixing the light; you remember what your father had said. You’re instantly flushed, starkly aware of the fact that you’re basically naked except for a towel, dripping water and your underwear is basically dangling from your hand. “I’m sor—fuck!” The stool wobbles and out of instinct, you grab for him, planting your hand on his stomach. He’s reaching over his head still, and the bottom of your hand meets bare skin, his t-shirt riding up slightly.

“You good?” you ask, pressing your lips together as he balances himself. You move your hand, carefully bending your knees and picking up the screwdriver from where it landed on the floor. “Here.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, taking it from you, jaw working as he chews the inside of his lip. His cheeks are as red as your whole body feels. “Sorry, I’m—”

“I should go!” you say quickly, and side-step him, bolting out of the bathroom doorway and straight into your bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you. Your clothes tumble to the ground as soon as you’re inside, clapping a hand over your mouth as the towel nearly slips off of you. “Oh my god.”

+

You open the store by yourself the next day, your sister claiming she has the flu, your father with a golf game he can’t miss, and your mother with ‘far too many things to do around the house’. You don’t mind it; it’s usually quiet in the mornings, with the exception of the week of Joel, where he’d shown up at nine o’clock nearly on the dot each day.

Once your father got home last night, you’d all but interrogated him. Turns out, Joel had stopped by the store late the night before, walking in just before closing, and he and your dad got to talking. When the subject of the creaky back porch and the broken hallway light came up, Joel had offered his services, and your father had accepted.

A minute after you’ve flipped the sign from closed to open and unlocked the door, a now-familiar pick-up truck pulls up to the parking spot outside the curb. You inhale sharply, nerves and embarrassment in your gut, and you turn away from the door, heading towards the counter, you back to the door as it jingles open.

Joel Miller calls your name. You nearly freeze, but continue your steps until you’re safely behind the counter. You hear his boots squeak on the floor as he approaches, but you can’t bring yourself to lift your head until he’s standing right in front of you, saying your name again.

“Morning, Joel.”

“About yesterday,” he says instantly, a hand reached into the space between you, landing in a loose fist on the countertop. “I had no idea that you were—that it would—” He blows out a breath, ducking his head before meeting your eyes. “I’m sorry, is what I’m tryin’ to say.”

“Y’know, I usually make a man buy me dinner before he sees me half-naked,” you say, the line rolling off your tongue before you can stop yourself. Joel balks, and you clap a hand over your mouth, nervous giggles pouring out of you. “Oh my god, that was cheesy, I’m sorry. And it’s okay, for the record. I should have checked the hallway before I walked out.”

He laughs, you laugh, and the idea sparks in your mind. Your hands move of their own accord, reaching for a pen and a scrap of receipt paper. You scribble out your phone number, accompanied by a little smiley face after the last digit.

“Here,” you say, pushing the paper across the counter, nudging his hand with your own. “Why don’t you take this, and maybe we can see each other someplace besides the paint aisle or outside my bathroom.” When he doesn’t answer right away, that sick feeling of rejection crawls up your throat, and you nearly snatch the paper back. “Or we could just pretend it never happened.”

“Can’t do that,” he murmurs, and his voice is so low and inviting you can’t help but lean across the counter slightly. His eyes dart to the clock on the wall and he curses under his breath. “Shit, I’m gonna be late.” He grabs the paper, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket on his t-shirt. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, nodding, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he touches his hand to yours, fingers glancing over your wrist before he pulls away. He steps backward again, eyes not leaving yours. Thankfully there’s no display in his path for him to topple over, but he only looks away when he reaches the door, that almost-smile you’ve been chasing since the first day you met spreading into a full-blown grin that sends butterflies shooting through your stomach. “Bye, Joel.”

“Bye,” he replies, your name a near-whisper afterward.

As soon as the door shuts, the tinkle of bells echoing, you slump across the counter with a squeal. The bells ding again a second later, and you shoot upright, schooling your face into a normal-looking smile and greeting the customer that’s just walked through the door.

+

It’s nearly ten o’clock that night, when your phone rings.

You’re lounging in bed, a book propped against your knees, Sheryl Crowe crooning out of your stereo. The robotic ring makes you jump, and you hit the answer button quickly, lifting the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Sorry, I know it’s late,” Joel says, and you smile, sinking deeper into the pillows. “Had a long day, and I almost didn’t call, but I really wanted to.”

“I’m glad you did,” you reply, letting the book fall shut on your lap. “What made your day so long?”

It’s easy conversation, the two of you chatting for a good hour. He talks about the job site he’s been working at, his brother that works with him, how his truck nearly broke down when he went to leave, making him late to get home. The call only comes to an end when you’re both making each other yawn, mumbling apologies every time.

“I should let you get some sleep,” Joel nearly whispers, his voice so soft through the phone you barely hear it. “Didn’t mean to keep you up so late.”

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” you quip, rolling onto your side, keeping the phone pressed to your ear. “But I like talking to you, just for the record.”

“I like talking to you, too,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Just for the record.”

“Are you making fun of me?” you ask, faking shock. He laughs.

“Nah, I just like the way you talk, darlin’,” he says, and the pet name makes you shiver. “I’ll let you go.”

“You didn’t ask,” you say quickly, and he pauses, dead air on the line for a moment.

“What?”

“I said you could make it up to me,” you tell him, rolling onto your back, glancing out the window at the moon, big and white in the dark sky. “That was your opening to ask me out.”

Another pause, and you’re holding your breath, chewing your lip.

“Have dinner with me on Friday?”

You hum, beaming into the phone. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Joel barks a laugh, the biggest one you’ve gotten out of him yet, and you smile harder. “You’re trouble.”

“You’re the one having dinner with me,” you shoot back, and he laughs again, softer this time. “Goodnight, Joel.”

You can tell he’s still smiling. “Goodnight.”

NEXT

[mattatouilletkachuk]

Summerfest 2023

-

Jack Hughes x reader

I usually write stories and longer fics on my main blog but I thought I’d give this a shot. I finally looked up summerfest tickets and that inspired this.

-

Y/nusername

Liked by trevorzegras, Elblue6, jackhughes and 25,076 others

Y/nusername: Drove a little further right this summer and ended up at Summerfest. Is it even a good summer without good music, humid weather and getting drunk friends? 🎶 🍻

jackhughes the best summers are the ones I get to spend with you ❤️

Y/nusername and I didn’t even have to tell you to say that. Aww 🥰 I love you babes 😘

trevorzegras I’m gonna barf 🤢

y/nusername don’t be salty just because you weren’t here

trevorzegras it wouldn’t have hurt anyone to at least invite me!!

jackhughes your invite probably got lost like the one you sent me for Coachella

trevorzegras …now who’s salty 🧂

Elblue6 Looks like you guys had a lot of fun. I can’t wait to see you all in a week.

y/nusername I’m counting down the days!

_quinnhughes idk it’s pretty chill here without Jack and his friends

y/nusername pretend all you like but I know you love me

_quinnhughes @/y/nusername it’s true I’ve petitioned to make you a permanent member of the family in exchange for getting rid of Jack

jackhughes I always knew you were plotting to get rid of me @_quinnhughes

_quinnhughes how’d you know? @/jackhughes

jackhughes Winter of ‘09 when you pushed me into a freezing lake kinda gave me an idea

lhughes_06 or Jack could just nut up and propose and we could have both of them forever.

Liked by y/nusername

User1 is it just me or did Jack get awfully quiet

User2 with all the country artists that play at summerfest I’m surprised Jack hasn’t been before

ryleigh_white still sad Dawson and I couldn’t make it but that video you sent of Noah Kahan will sustain me for a life time

y/nusername I hope one song came through clear and without me screaming over it

_alexturcotte I vote we do this every summer

trevorzegras “we”???

y/nusername 🧂

jackhughes 🧂

Ybf/username 🧂

jackhughes

Liked by y/nusername, _alexturcotte, lhughes_06, and 43,674 others

jackhughes maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea

y/nusername so you admit I was right? Going to Summerfest was a good idea?

jackhughes I feel like if I say yes you’ll hold it over my head forever

y/nusername I would never. You wound me.

lhughes_06 smells like a lie 🤥

y/nusername @/lhughes_06 we still have to drive back to Michigan. Don’t think I won’t leave you stranded on some farm land.

lhughes_06 you wouldn’t @y/nusername

y/nusername try me moosey 😈

nicohischier we had a great season you deserve to have a good summer

jackhughes thanks cap. Will do.🫡

trevorzegras and here I was worried that @y/nusername was gonna take my place but now I gotta worry about @/_alexturcotte

y/nusername @/trevorzegras honestly I’d call you jealous but that little hussy has a picture before me. @/jackhughes explain yourself.

jackhughes i… 🏃💨

_alexturcotte Alexa play Pretty Girl Rock 🎶

colecaufield the fact that I’m not getting 📸 cred on that last picture should be a federal offense

y/nusername it’s a lovely picture @/colecaufield thx ☺️

jackhughes don’t be cocky @/colecaufield

dawson1417 I would say I wish I had been there but I just know that Jack and y/n were probably sucking face the whole time

lhughes_06 forget being attached at the hip they’re attached by the lips

y/nusername 💋

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[scary-lasagna]

hello, I don’t really understand your request situation right now so if I’m sending this at the wrong time I’m sorry.

But, I just read your post about Slender’s dark secrets, and I really liked it! So I was wondering if you could talk more about them.

Have a good day!!

I decided to dive into the bit about the...things Slender has done to the earlier residents.

Friends

"Why the Hell would he do that? That's a fucking strong assumption to make, Jeff." An offended tone slapped the walls of the Rec Room, unusually empty besides a proxy and a infamous killer.

Jeff and Toby have never really clicked well. Something about Toby has always managed to rub Jeff the wrong way: his walk, his love of talking too loud, his abrupt tics, and his unkept hair, for a few examples.

Jeff just didn't want anything to do with him. But that didn't mean that he hated the poor bastard. Even so, they had more in common than they thought. Not that Toby knew that.

"I'm just saying, it all makes sense, right?" Jeff faced his palms up with a casual shrug from the beanbag chair, "He killed her. And I'm not just saying that to piss you off or anything. I mean look at what he did to Kate. She's terrified of him."

Althought Toby wasn't entirely close to Kate, it was obvious how much she avoided pissing Slender off, and always happened to be missing whenever things got tense around the manor. Her burns...had he also been the cause of them?

"Just because he may or may not have done something to KAte doesn't mean that he's an evil creature. Why would he kill a random chick in Michigan? Slender wouldn't do something like that-" Toby refused to believe it, not after Slender had took them all into open arms.

Jeff pinched the bridge of his nose before dragging his palm down his face. He crossed his arms as he stared up at the proxy. "Toby, who the fuck do you think cut the breaks in Lyra's car? Who drove Tim's friend to insanity? Jack's culty origin? Fuck, even Jane. She didn't have a violent bone in her body until my incident. I mean, think about it, doesn't it all just lead back to him?"

"It doesn't matter!" Toby didn't flinch at the mention of his sister, but then again he didn't have anything backing up his claim. It made him angry. He knew he was right.

"Then ask him, Toby." Jeff nonchalantly scratched his neck, "And you'll come back not remembering a damn thing like last time." He rolled his eyes toward the brunette. "And the time before that, too."

"You're fucking with me."

"'Fraid not." Jeff tsked and wrestled himself out of the beanbag chair. "Start leaving notes for yourself, Tobs'. That's how I figured everything out."

___

"I'm not quite sure I am comphrehending your accusation, Toby. Do you believe I had something to do with Lyra's passing?" The Tall Man sat at his great oak desk, his spindly fingers clasped together on his desk mat.

"I-It's just sketchy. I mean, my memory is spotty, yeah, but right after I caught The Sickness, she died." Toby adjusted his seat on the leather office chair, scooting to the edge. His leg bounced. His nails were wearing thin from the abuse of nervousness.

"Toby, why on Earth would I do something like that? In no offense, it would be pointless to me to harvest such a small soul. From my recollection, Lyra did not have any great power that would have ade her a sustainable feeding victim." Slender suddenly furrowed his brow line, his head tilting ever so slightly, "You should know this Toby. Are you feeling alright?"

"I've been a little under the weather, I guess. I'm sorry for pointing fingers, everything has just been so confusing lately. I'm loosing track of time, and I can't remember what I did yesterday." Toby ran his hands through his slightly gready hair, and took great effort in slouching into the leather.

"Perhaps it's time for a mental health day. I'll adjust your schedule to fill in Kate for your shift in the next three days." Slender opened one of the larger cabniets in his desk, pulling out one of the many vintage tabloids he used to schedule his proxies. "And if we see no improvement, then we can adjust or change your medicine if needed."

As Slender set the tabloid down, Toby noticed a familiar face peeking out from under one of the many loose papers among the mess of a busy desk.

"Why do you have Brian's folder open?"

Slender paused, craning his head to eye the headshot picture. "I'm simply refreshing my memory of his medical history. No need to wear your heart of your sleeve, Toby." Slender quickly dismissed, waving Toby's concerns away. He seemed a bit more hasty to modify the schedule.

Toby's voice dropped into a gravely tone.

"Are you sure?"

Slender slowly lifted his head to look at Toby, who seemed to be fixed on a leaflet.

Kate. More specififcally, Kate's fresh burns from so many years ago, all photographed and on display. The nights of restless sleep must have finally caught up to Slender, and forgot to tuck them away before allowing Toby to burst in.

"Did Brian do that to Kate?"

"I will now be asking you to leave, Toby, this is a breach of confidential information on Kate's behalf. I'll adjust your schedule. Have a lovely vacation." And even though the words seems so considerate, Slender stood at full height, a tendril slithering around the front of the desk to tuck any pictures under loose papers. "Leave."

Maybe Jeff was right.

Toby stood quickly, and pivoted on he heels to walk out of the room. But something stopped him. An unforeseen force keeping his body in place.

"Absterge rasa, a medietate prius. Mote fiat."

Toby turned, his brows furrowed in confusion. "Y'know, your German sometimes sounds really weird!" He laughed, "Anyway, I gotta drop that paper off to Jeff, you said he's in the Rec Room, right?"

[kedreeva]

How hardy are quail? My wife raises ducks and geese in our yard, but I confess the idea of quail amuses me. I’m in a humid, subtropical climate.

Well, I would think it depends on the kind of quail but if you mean coturnix, then they've proven very hardy for hundreds of years. I live in Michigan. It's humid as hell, and our temps waver between -40 at the coldest parts of our year, and 105F/40C at the hottest part of our year, though we usually only see mid 80s with the occasional dip into the 90s like it is right now (grief). My quail are warm, but handling it fine (no losses yet and everyone is eating and drinking). They're sheltered, as their caging is in my barn, so protected from weather and direct sun/harsh winds, but we don't heat them in the winter, and the barn doesn't have AC in the summer.

They're kept all over the USA, and I believe in a LOT of other places, though the exact species may vary, as will color/pattern/other morph availability of C. coturnix (for example, australia doesn't have the ce gene for clean blue eggs).

[bobby-r2d2-floyd]

the nanny part 4 | hangman x reader [saturn]

note: after what feels like ever (it was a month) i'm finally back! between my organic chemistry class, life stuff, generally feeling like ass with the weather transition from winter to spring to summer back to winter and then summer again here in michigan... i've been suffering from some pretty bad headaches and migraines from the change in pressure. but i'm pretty okay right now

warnings: none? not angst, angst.

word count: 2.4k

not beta'd. we die like goose

inspired by: @roosterforme

previous | next

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Over the next few weeks turned months, you and Jake had developed a sort-of routine. Some nights you would be sleeping over in his guest bedroom while he was out late with the rest of the squad, and some nights you were out the door after making dinner for an exhausted pilot so you could help Penny at the bar and he could spend quality daddy-daughter time with Avery. 

You had been working for Jake for around four months, Avery was already 8 months old, the holiday season was right around the corner and, unfortunately, that meant that there was no chance for you to be able to make it back home to see your girlfriend or her family. Jake wasn’t given any leave time for the holiday season to go back home, and he was fairly certain he was going to be on a boat in the middle of the Pacific for Christmas. 

Jake rolled out of bed after checking the time, he laid in bed long enough to not be able to get coffee on his way into base and with a groan he wandered into the bathroom for a shower. He was hoping to be in and out before Avery started to wake up, but when he heard your faint voice over the sound of the shower, he knew he could afford a few extra minutes in the steam while you got Avery awake and fed. 

He was expecting you to be standing in his kitchen, but what he wasn’t expecting was the twinge in his chest at the sight of you holding Avery and bouncing her softly as you work on smashing some avocado for her. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as if you could see his heart racing, and he watches as you dance around the kitchen while Avery giggles away. 

She’s the first of the two of you to spot him, you only notice from the shift of her weight as she stretches her little arms out towards Jake with a “Da-!” He laughs and pushes off from the wall and lifts her into the air before bringing her down and peppering her face and neck with kisses, causing her to giggle harder.

“Well, good morning sailor.” you tease as you scoop the avo into the silicone mat on her high chair. He laughs at your teasing and puts the little girl in her seat. 

“Good morning.”

“There’s a coffee for you on the counter from that place that you took me to-”

“Clifford’s?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Saturn you are a godsend,” he practically moans as he takes a sip and you roll your eyes at his antics. “I’m serious. Thank you so much. I didn’t think I would have time to go on my way into base.” 

You watch him take alternating sips between his coffee and feeding Avery. You take in his still shower damp hair and how his white undershirt is tucked into his dress khakis even though the second he gets onto base he’s going to be changing into his flight suit. 

“Yeah I left Penny’s early today, couldn’t sleep so I made the extra drive to the coffee house.” 

“Well, I appreciate it. There’s some cash in my wallet you can take-”

“Oh no,” you wave him off as you turn to the sink to get started on the few dishes you had dirtied. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind treating my favorite boss to coffee here and there.”

“Favorite boss? I’m your only boss.” he says and you throw him a look.

“You’re not my only boss, dad-man. Now go get your bag, you're going to be late.” 

“Yes ma’am.” he gives you a mock salute and you roll your eyes as you take over his spot feeding Avery. He has a foot out the door when he doubles back, “are you going to be out the door as soon as I get home later or can you stay for a bit for a chat?”

“I can stay, is everything okay?”

“Okay cool. I’ll see you later, Sat!” 

A few hours have passed since Jake left this morning and Avery is getting restless, she’s just starting to stand and you can tell she’s itching to start running. It was perfect timing as you also had received a text from your other boss. You pack a small bag for her, some snacks and a few diapers, before grabbing the space themed fanny pack Jake had gotten you for your birthday in October. “Let’s go see if we can surprise daddy while we make a pit stop for the admiral.” 

Jake is confused when he hears your voice followed by Avery’s giggles and babbles echoing throughout the halls of Top Gun. When he finally finds the two of you, Avery lights up, just like she had that morning too. 

“Hey… what are you two doing here?” he asks as he takes Avery from you and you hold out a bag to him.

“Figured I would bring you some lunch. Plus I have a meeting with Beau.”

“Beau? Simpson?” he lets out a small laugh and looks at you as if you grew extra limbs. “How… Why do you have a meeting with Cyclone?” 

“Because, Lieutenant Seresin, I asked her to come here.” Cyclone says as he walks up to the two of you. 

“Sir I-” 

“This must be Avery.” Cyclone says smiling down at the little girl in Jake’s arms before shaking her little hand, “it is very nice to meet you again.” 

Avery smiles and babbles back to him and reaches for the usually stone faced admiral and with a smile he takes her into his arms, not bothered when she starts to poke and pull at all the ribbons on his dress shirt. Jake is shocked, mouth hanging open a little and you just smile knowing that Cyclone is nothing like the admiral that Jake knows.

“Why don’t you and the rest of the Dagger’s take a long lunch.” Cyclone says and from his tone Jake knows it’s not a suggestion and Jake takes Avery’s diaper bag and the bag of food from you before leaving with a “Sir.” 

You followed Cyclone back to his office and took a seat across from him. “How’s Addison doing?” 

“She’s good, excited to start kindergarten and she loves having a baby sister.” he says with a smile and you laugh before pulling out your tablet from its case.. 

“So, I was working on a curriculum for her…” you start and go over the program you drafted for him and his wife to go over with their eldest daughter. 

By the time you and Cyclone walk into the room that the rest of the Dagger’s have taken up residence in, the admiral is reduced to a fit of laughter as he regales you with the story of what his daughter did a few weeks ago. The rest of the squad is wide eyed at their laughing admiral, but Jake is the only one who has already seen the man with his usual grimace. 

Cyclone gives a smile to the rest of the Dagger’s before squeezing your shoulder gently as he leaves back to his office. 

“So, you’re a nanny, a bartender, a teacher, and you can make the admiral laugh? Man, Jake bagged a good one.” an aviator says and you give him a weird look.

“Excuse me?” 

“Harvard, shut the fuck up.” Bradley says and this Harvard character you just met laughs.

“Well, on that note… Jake, Avery and I will see you later?” you say and Jake nods before passing Avery back to you. 

“I might be a little late, but I can pick something up for dinner?” he asks and you nod with a smile.

“Of course, dealer’s choice.” you say with a smile before heading out. You make a quick pit stop at Target for some new clothes for Avery since she’s already starting to outgrow some of the clothes that she had. You pick up a few things for yourself before grabbing Jake some new undershirts since they’ve started to disappear. 

By the time you make it back to Jake’s, you have a few hours before he’s supposed to be home. Avery goes down easy for a nap, groceries are put away, his new shirts and the rest of his laundry is in the washer.

The second you pop open a red bull your phone is ringing, the picture of you and your girlfriend when she surprised you with a trip down the Vermont Byways last fall during peak color season.

“Hey Ry.. Perfect timing.” you say with a smile and she laughs on the other end of the line.

“Yeah? The baby down?” 

“Yeah, she just fell asleep and then Jake isn’t due home for another few hours yet.” you take a sip of your drink.

“Well that’s good news! How’s the other job going?” she asks and you let out a sigh.

“It’s good. I have a few parents I’m writing programs and curriculums for but other than that, I’m spending most of my time with Avery.” 

“You know… you can always come home. Do the exact same thing here with our family and friends.” she presses and you can hear it in her voice that she’s hating the distance.

“Ryanne… you know that I can’t, I outgrew Vermont. I’m happy in San Diego, but I do miss you. A lot.” you say and she sighs.

“Are you at least coming back for Christmas? Mom and dad have been asking about you. They think we’ve broken up.” she tells you and you bite your lip before sighing. 

“I’m sorry. I wish that I could get back but I can’t. Jake thinks that he might be getting deployed right around that time but he isn’t sure. So I’m going to stay here on the chance he does.” you tell her and you can almost hear her roll her eyes. “Why don’t you come here? Spend Christmas under the sun?” 

“Does he think or does he know that gets getting deployed?” she bites out and then sighs, “I’ll see what I can do. I make no promises though with the weather.” she tells you and you nod even though she can’t see you.

“Well, either way I’m sorry I can’t make it home and I do love you a lot and I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.” she says before hanging up and you sigh, tossing your phone on the table in front of you before kicking your feet up and digging the heels of your palms into your eyes and you will yourself to not start crying. 

Jake ends up getting out earlier than he expected so he stops by your favorite Chinese place on the way home before stopping and grabbing your favorite beer to try and butter you up, so when he walked into the house and heard your gentle sobs coming from the couch, he stops mid-sentence and rushes over. 

“Hey! So I grabbed Chinese from that place you like and I was thinking-hey what’s wrong?” he sets the bags down on the table in front of you and pulls you against him.

“Just,” you sniff and rest your head on his shoulder, “stupid stuff. Ryanne called me today… and I thought that it was going to be an ‘I miss you, how have you been’ conversation but instead it was a ‘when are you coming home? Why are you watching this guy's baby over his parents?’ conversation.” 

“I’m sorry.. I can call my mom-” he starts and you cut him off.

“No Jake. You don’t have to do that. I want to be here with you and Avery. I left Vermont because I felt like there was nothing there for me anymore. Just because I can’t leave, doesn’t mean she can’t either.. And she hasn’t really made an effort to even try and come out here either.” 

“I can talk to Cyclone. See if he can give me a week off or something so you can go back or-or bring Ryanne out here? Spend a week with her here in the sunshine.” he tries again and you look over at him, eyes glassy and red-rimmed and he wants nothing more than to just tug you into his lap and hold you close and kiss every single tear away but he knows that he can’t. 

You sit up and pull away from him, downing the rest of your redbull and slapping a hand down on his leg, “so... my favorite food?” you pump into his shoulder and he laughs.

“Yes, only the best for my favorite nanny.” 

“Favorite? I’m your only nanny!” you laugh as you stand and grab the bags before heading to the kitchen to plate the food. “Do you want to go grab Av? She should be waking up any moment and I’m sure she would rather see your face than mine.” 

Almost on cue, Avery starts stirring over the baby monitor that was placed on the counter. You can hear Jake talking to Avery briefly before he disappears from the vicinity of the monitor in her room, you figure he headed to his room to change. By the time he’s back downstairs, he’s changed into an old Texas Longhorns shirt and sweatpants and Avery is as smiley as ever with her little bit of bed head sticking up on the side.

You can feel your eyes lingering for longer than needed, but seeing Jake with his daughter always made your heart soar. 

Fatherhood suited him. 

You set the plates on the table, even giving a few noodles to Avery on her mat when Jake gets her settled in the highchair. “You said that you wanted to talk about something, before you left this morning?” 

“Yeah uh.. I wanted to ask if you wanted to move in with me?” he says, almost tentatively. “I know that you’re settled at Penny’s but with the impending leave in the next few weeks and the fact that you’re always here early in the morning and usually late at night.. I just figured it would be easier for you? Less commute time and Avery gets pretty upset when you leave at night.” 

“Avery gets upset or you do?” you tease and you swear you see him flush a bit as he shovels sesame chicken into his mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full you pig. You’re teaching Avery bad habits.” you pause for a bit, pushing some food around your plate as you watch Avery taste the noodles you had given her and her eyes go wide and you both laugh. 

“I’ll move in with you.”

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

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[seeyouinthespring]

if you're in chicagoland area and are able to show up to actions in person to support palestine, i encourage you to follow or keep up with @sjpchicago on instagram. they are part of the chicago coalition for justice in palestine, a network of several organizations that have been organizing protests, marches, etc in the city every weekend for almost two months now.

a few weeks ago despite efforts from CPD we were able to completely shut down lake shore drive, the busiest highway in the city; something the palestinian movement in chicago hasn't been able to do in 20 years of organizing. and more often then not when they take the streets downtown ends up getting shut down. every. weekend.

the locations they choose are extremely accessible by cta (red/blue/brown line mostly) and actions are led by palestinians. they are not just fighting for a ceasefire, but an end to occupation and for the complete liberation of palestine. there will usually be a few speakers, and then if we are able (read: if the cops allow) we will march.

if you're coming out; please wear a mask (for your safety from sickness and surveillance) proper clothing for the weather, and hearing protection. bring signs, keffiyehs, flags, or just your support.

if you're reading this right now, there is an action today (december 2nd) downtown at the intersection of ida b. wells dr and michigan avenue at 1pm. if you are able to come, please be there.

please rb this post! even if you don't live here there's a chance that it could reach someone who does.

[welldigger62]

Seen at my dentist’s office and I’m jealous. This is one awesome looking hydrangea plant.

I think she said it was called strawberry vanilla. It must love this Michigan weather. Right now it’s 78 degrees and 84 percent humidity, right before the storm is supposed to roll in.

[wyattjohnston]

need a little company - nick blankenburg

summary: morgan hasn't seen nick in years and her strongest memories of him are the crush he had on her in college. when he gets signed to columbus after years apart, morgan realises that maybe she should have given him a chance.

chapter word count: 4.8k

last < table of contents > next

In a moment of peak doom and gloom, Morgan wished she was at work.

The snowstorm outside was what she’d expected to wake up to; what she hadn’t expected was for her bedside lamp to produce zero light or for her house to be significantly colder than any other morning that month.

She used the last of her hot water to take a shower and then sat on her couch, pretending that she was a good Midwesterner and not affected by a little snow, and hoped that she got a good update on when her power would be back on.

As the morning got later and later, Morgan started to feel a spike of panic—the estimated time for the power being fixed was pushed back every half an hour until it was clear she wouldn’t be seeing light for at least another day, and the window for sorting out where she was going was narrowing.

She needed to get hold of Nick before he left for the airport.

It was becoming a little frightening how quickly Nick answered her calls. They were in their mid-20s, so it wasn’t weird for either of them to have their phone on them at all times. Morgan just usually waited until it rang a few times before answering.

Nick answered on the first ring every time without fail.

“Miss me already?” he asked in lieu of a proper greeting.

Morgan did, truthfully, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m about to ask you something a little wild.”

“I’m listening.”

“So… the storms have, uh, they’ve taken out my power?” she said—asked—cautiously, unsure of how to even approach her wild idea without just blurting it out. “And—I was wondering if I could maybe stay at your place while you’re at home for Christmas.”

Just as quickly as he’d answered the phone, Nick said, “Come to Michigan with me.”

“That’s an even worse idea now than it was last week,” Morgan scoffed, glaring at the flickering shadows created by her candles.

“Why?”

“Because you’re leaving this afternoon. It’s Christmas, and there’s no way there’s any plane tickets left.”

“It’s a four-hour drive. I can’t, but if you don’t mind driving in the storm, we can leave whenever you’re ready, and be there before dinner. I’ll try to get you a ticket right now, though. I’ll call you back.”

“Nick—if you don’t want me staying in your house without you—”

“I don’t want you spending Christmas by yourself. I want to spend Christmas with you, Mo. Can I sort this out and call you back?”

Morgan relented, even if only because she had no clue how else to respond. She waited for him to call back, not knowing if the flight or the drive would be worse for her self-control.

None of it worried her too much from a work perspective, as she used half of her generous PTO to take a break over Christmas when nobody else in the company wanted it.

From a personal perspective… spending Christmas at Nick’s family home with Nick’s family was one of the more daunting things she could think of doing.

Her phone rang after an hour of silence. She’d been preparing herself for a total reversal of his suggestion and was trying to plan how she was going to keep warm until her power was back on.

“We’re going to have to drive,” he told her, sounding a little harried and out of breath. “So, if you can pack enough for four days and walk to mine as quick as you can, we can leave as soon as you get here.”

“Nick… Just get on the plane, I’ll be fine here,” she insisted, hating that he was changing all of his plans at the very last minute just because the universe and the weather hated her.

“No can do. I already told my mom you were coming, and she’s preparing Katrina’s old bedroom as we speak.”

“You can’t use your mom against me.”

“It’s working, though. Isn’t it?”

Morgan huffed, stared out the window at the ongoing storm and bounced on the spot for a moment as she thought over the idea, over Karin expecting her, and finally said, “I need to pack.”

She rushed through packing enough for four nights, including something nice for Christmas Day when Nick made out that it was an all-out, extended family affair that had Morgan returning back to the idea of just staying in her frozen house. She managed, though, and packed far too much for what was essentially a long weekend and met Nick in his garage where he was waiting at his car with a smile even bigger than she was used to.

Relief coursed through her when she saw that his car was still a very sensible Toyota and not an expensive luxury car that he expected her to drive without warning—she hadn’t even realised that was a possibility until she was there.

Nick started talking instantly, setting up the route on Google Maps and hitting play on Spotify. Morgan was actually quite distracted by the CarPlay screen that took up the centre of the console because her car interior had to be pulled apart to plug in an aux cord. The four-hour estimated travel time stared back at Morgan, the longest drive she’d done since driving to Columbus, and she took a steadying breath. Being in a car with Nick for that long was going to be the hardest part of the entire trip.

“So, my mom has set up Katrina’s room for you, and Nolan will be staying in Alex’s room.”

“Nolan?” Morgan clarified, even though she knew it would be Moyle. “Does your family just take in strays?”

“My mom can’t say no to feeding somebody, you know that.”

She did know. Intimately. While she had never been one to focus on her weight, the lack of running in her life combined with the increase in hearty food was making her aware of the scales for the first time in a long time. She would never decline a home cooked meal, though, so it wasn’t worrying her too much.

Nick gave her a quick rundown of his extended family, as well as some extra information about his siblings. Morgan tried to commit it all to memory as best she could, even if she knew she would forget it the second she was faced with an actual person to put to a name.

Two hours into their drive, when they were nearing Toledo, Nick asked, “Do you want to stop for a bit?”

Morgan’s brow furrowed as she looked at their estimated arrival time of just after two. They hadn’t stopped yet, and she wasn’t mad at the idea of driving without a break if it meant getting there sooner.

“I could use a stretch, and I think your knee could, too.”

It wasn’t until Nick pointed it out that she realised she’d been rubbing at her sore knee and couldn’t say how long she’d been doing it.

“Can we stop somewhere I can buy presents?” she suggested, not ready to admit that it was to give her knee a break. Nick wasn’t stupid enough to miss the deflection.

It wasn’t until they were inside a shopping mall that Nick asked who she wanted to buy presents for.

Incredulously, Morgan’s eyes widened, and she scrambled to remember the list she’d been creating in the car, “Your dad? Your siblings? Moyle?”

“Nothing for my mom?” he asked, teasing, and pointing into the Yankee Candle store they were walking past.

Morgan directed him away with a hand on his forearm. It was a very nice forearm, even through his thick sweater. That wasn’t something she had ever thought about.

“I already bought her something when I thought she might still be in Columbus. I was going to run it over to you before you left for your flight.”

She would have had to see him anyway to give him his present to open on Christmas Day. She wasn’t even sure he realised she had something for him tucked away in her bag.

“Nobody is expecting presents,” he assured her, still being easily moved in any direction she led him.

“Sure,” Morgan nodded in agreement, only to immediately continue, “but I can’t just hand one to your mom and not get anything for anyone else. That’s so rude.”

Nick conceded and agreed to help her find something small for his family, only if she promised to not buy anything for Nolan who, he assured her, would not have taken the time to get her anything. That at least made sense to Morgan—nobody had known she was even coming until that morning.

Morgan had never had a more rushed shopping experience—and the only person rushing her was herself. They did manage to get out with presents for Karl, Alex and Katrina. Morgan hoped they were worth it. Even in her haste she made sure to buy something nice, something usable, something they would want. Nick wasn’t always very believable when he was trying to assure her she wasn’t just buying garbage. She didn’t think he was as bad a liar as she was; maybe she was wrong about it.

Walking around and stretching meant that Morgan made it through the rest of the drive without too much pain. There was some ibuprofen in her future regardless.

Karin greeted them when they arrived, Morgan melting into the hug because she missed them even after less than two weeks since her last. Karin didn’t seem bothered by the length of it. Her hug with Nick was just as long, anyway.

Between the three of them—two, really, with Nick on crutches—they managed to bring in everything packed into the Toyota and carry it up to the second floor and the bedrooms. Morgan’s bags were dropped into what she assumed had been Katrina’s childhood bedroom, but she didn’t stay there for very long before she wandered back down the hall to Nick’s room.

“Karl will be home soon, and we’ll have some dinner,” Karin said as they passed each other in the hall.

Morgan knocked on the doorframe to the room Karin had walked out of and tilted her head around the corner when Nick acknowledged her. He was simultaneously packing and unpacking, switching out clothes that he’d brought back from Columbus for things still in his drawers, his bad leg kneeling on a chair that looked like it belonged in the dining room. Morgan sat down on the end of his bed to watch.

Nick looked between her and the door, his cheeks brightening suddenly, and he stumbled over his words, “If we’re in a room together—or if you’re in a room with Nolan—or I guess the three of us together—the door—she knows we’re adults it’s just—a married thing and—”

“It’s fine,” Morgan said slowly with her head tilted. “Doors open. Pretty standard.”

With still red cheeks, Nick’s shoulders fell, and he mumbled, “Feels a bit like we’re in high school.”

Morgan hummed, it did feel a bit unnecessary when they were in their mid-20s and, more importantly, not in a relationship. Them not being in a relationship, though, was all the more reason to let it slide. She had nothing to hide.

A thought crossed her mind, and she couldn’t help but tease, “You bring a lot of girls home in high school?”

“We had, ya know,” Nick mumbled, again, his cheeks growing impossibly redder, “assignments and stuff.”

“Some biology? Human anatomy?” she prodded, leaning forward.

Nick’s head shook, a nervous laugh bubbling out of his mouth, “My mom would have had my head if I’d pulled that.”

“You must have gone wild when you were shipped off to Alberta.” Morgan leant forward so excitedly that she nearly face planted off the bed. “And then to college? Nicholas Blankenburg, have you been holding out on me?”

His laughter stopped, and the mood in the room turned sombre rather abruptly. Morgan sat up straighter, worried about what she’d done to cause the sudden change.

“Was too busy pining over you in college to go wild.”

Morgan’s breath hitched. “You didn’t pine over me for four years.”

“Not four, no.”

Nick smiled gently as he spoke, the eye contact he was making with her, earnest and intense, had Morgan shifting with nervous energy.

“When is Nolan getting here?” she asked, deflecting.

“Right now!”

Morgan’s head snapped to the door at the loud, new voice. It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Nolan who had shouted at them. He walked into the room with his arms held wide and made a beeline for Nick. Morgan couldn’t help but feel like she was interrupting something when they hugged each other, speaking to each other in low, excited voices, so she took to looking around Nick’s unexpectedly bare room.

She’d expected more trophies, more jerseys, more proof that he’d played hockey his entire life. There were a few things, some posters and hockey sticks—

“Mo!”

Morgan looked forward to Nolan standing directly in front of her, his arms stretched just as wide as they had been for Nick. She rose to her feet and was immediately swept into a hug as if she was a long-lost friend and not just someone who, for two years, had been in the same, very expanded group.

Regardless, she greeted him happily and warmly. It was a hockey boy thing she’d never forgotten, that they all very much treated everybody they liked as if they were family. Nick’s easy acceptance in her life had been proof enough, but Nolan dropping down onto the bed beside her and starting up his own teasing of Nick did a good job at solidifying it.

Morgan didn’t even think as she followed Nick up the staircase—it was just the two of them, Nolan nowhere to be seen. She stretched out on Nick’s bed after switching on his bedside lamp to light the room, watching as he hobbled around the room, hanging up his coat and removing his tie. The movement was getting smoother, without a doubt, but there was still a noticeable caution.

“Your family is really great,” she whispered. “You’re so lucky to have them.”

She held her breath as he laid on the bed beside her and ignored the swoop in her stomach as he faced her and put his hands under his cheek on the pillow.

“Can I ask why you don’t talk to yours? I guessed it was pretty bad when you didn’t spend Thanksgiving with them, and now you’re here for Christmas.”

Her shrug was awkward, but she tried to buy herself time to think of an answer he would understand.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s… People who are tight with their families don’t always get it.”

The tension that fell over the room was what Morgan had been worried about, the sudden tightness of Nick’s mouth as he considered what she’d said and the inevitable conclusions he would jump to if she didn’t elaborate. Except, if anybody would accept her not elaborating it would be Nick. He very clearly wasn’t going to push her, even if he had started to frown and looked anywhere but her face.

“I haven’t—”

“You don’t have to, Mo, it’s okay.”

“I haven’t spoken to anyone in my family since I left for college,” she continued, her voice firm enough to ensure Nick knew she was comfortable with continuing. “My parents and I never saw eye-to-eye, and they couldn’t stand the idea of me going to college, especially not for cross country.”

“What did they want you to do?”

“Marry Drew, and start popping out kids.” Morgan sighed, saying the real reason, “Stay where they could keep an eye on me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone ever needing to keep an eye on you.”

“I was too worldly for their liking. Made me a bad daughter.”

She smiled—to herself, mostly—forever amused by the idea that she of all people was too worldly, that leaving Ohio for Michigan was some dangerous and exotic adventure, that returning to Ohio was her hooking up with the devil. Nick found it just as amusing, or maybe he just found her amusement amusing because he started smiling, too, and, before Morgan knew it, they were laughing together.

It quickly got out of hand, laughing at absolutely nothing, but hard enough that neither of them was really making much noise.

The distance between them was slowly slipping away as they laughed, Morgan listing forward with every desperate attempt at inhaling. Nick wasn’t leaning away, either, though, not even when the laughter eventually stopped, and they were just lying beside each other again.

With just the bedside lamp lighting the room and a small stream of light coming from the staircase, Morgan was captivated by the angelic glow on Nick’s already soft expression. An admission tumbled from her lips without much forethought; she didn’t even feel panicked by it.

“I regretted saying ‘no’ when you asked me out. Not right away, but you were really good about it and limited the flirting, and by the time you weren’t a freshman, and I didn’t have to feel weird about it… you stopped flirting all together.”

A conflicted grimace morphed onto Nick’s face, not bad enough for Morgan to regret what she’d said, but enough that if she’d known she would have held onto it for another moment.

“It was two-fold: that sort of persistence usually gets creepy, but it also sucked to get shut down like I did.”

“I heard you got a girlfriend.”

“Sophomore year, yeah. After I stopped asking about you all the time other girls started to pay attention to me.”

Morgan didn’t spend much time around the hockey team in her senior year—Nick’s sophomore year. The cross-country team’s strong connection to them had disappeared with the graduation of Sasha and Brendan, and any other friendships that had formed were enough for a plus-one to a party but not for either entire team to show up and wreak havoc.

Those friendships and plus-ones were more than enough, however, to get all the gossip that floated from the men’s hockey team, including Nicholas Blankenburg and his lovely, blonde, rowing team girlfriend.

“Nothing to do with you being twenty-one and on the hockey team?” she teased, combined with a gentle poke to his ribs.

He smirked, even if it was unexpected and self-disparaging, before shrugging coyly and admitting, “It didn’t hurt.”

Silence settled between them, Morgan just choosing to smile at Nick knowingly while still wishing that he’d started at UMich straight out of high school.

Nick’s eyes flickered to the door, and he said, “Hi Mom,” without any reservations, without moving an inch.

“It’s getting late,” Karin said from the doorway. “It might be time to let Morgan get ready for bed.”

Morgan knew that they were being told because Karin didn’t want them sharing a bed. If Morgan was less happy about being there, she might have been offended by the insinuation that she and Nick would get up to no good—they wouldn’t because they weren’t together. There was nothing for Karin to worry about, though, and nothing for Morgan to feel caught about because, despite being quite close to each other, they were on top of the covers, not at all touching.

Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket, then revealed the time to the two of them. It said it was nearing eleven—later than she had expected.

“It is bedtime,” Morgan conceded, rolling to plant her feet on the floor. When she was standing, she stretched out her back—they’d been lying there for a couple hours, and she didn’t realise how stiff she was until she was upright.

“I’ll see you kids in the morning. Make sure you get some sleep; it’s going to be a big day.”

“Course, mom,” Nick said, sitting up against the headboard.

They all said their good nights, and Morgan lingered for just a moment to smile at Nick. She wondered, briefly, what it would be like to stay, to curl up under the covers beside him, but let the thought go.

She ducked into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take off her makeup before she changed into her pyjamas.

Nolan passed the bathroom and stopped in Nick’s door; Morgan only saw him out of the corner of her eye, and she must have been out of sight for him because he didn’t so much as poke his head in to say goodnight.

“I kept her distracted as long as I could, but I’m really bad at rummy, bro.”

Morgan could only assume that Nick responded, but she couldn’t hear; she was a little desperate to know if he had, to know what he’d said, but couldn’t very well ambush them and ask. She kept brushing her teeth and heard Nolan’s side of their conversation, though it was just them saying goodnight to each other.

She and Nolan entered the hallway at the same time, Nolan’s eyebrows raising just a little as they crossed paths. Morgan gave no indication that she heard anything—because she didn’t, really—just said goodnight, that she'd see him in the morning.

In the many years since Morgan had had a proper Christmas celebration, she didn’t think she’d missed it. Her family had been small—her, her parents, her dad’s parents and brother—so it had never felt like the huge affair she saw amongst her friends or on television. The madness around it always felt overdramatic.

Until she saw the Blankenburgs’ Christmas Day.

Despite talking to Nick until late and then lying in bed for far too long replaying their entire conversation, Morgan was roused before eight by a lot of noise coming from downstairs. It sounded like everyone had been awake for hours, they were so rowdy.

She popped her head into the hallway to get a read on if she had the time to have a shower and ran into Nolan at the top of the stairs. He’d been trying to sneak about, judging by the caught-out expression on his face. As soon as he realised it was a very awake Morgan, he grabbed her by the wrist and shouted down the stairs.

“She’s awake!”

Loud cheers resonated from the living room.

Gathered in front of the Christmas tree was Nick’s family—his parents, his siblings and their partners—drinking Karin’s delicious hot chocolate. They were clearly waiting for her to join them before they could start, and it formed a pit in the bottom of Morgan’s stomach.

She rushed to sit beside Nick on the couch, ignoring the skip in her heartbeat at the sight of him in his robe with his hair still in brushed. Everyone was wearing their robes except for Morgan as she’d been ambushed before she had the chance to grab it.

To make up for the lack of an extra layer, she sat so close to Nick she was practically on top of him. He didn’t flinch.

Panic set in when Morgan realised they were going to be opening presents. The process of how they would be opening them hadn’t really crossed her mind, and she was met with the prospect of everybody sitting and watching as each present was opened.

Alex had been given the task of handing out presents which meant Morgan, thankfully, didn’t need to leave Nick’s side. That meant, though, that she got a front row view of him opening her present for him.

There was a very unsubtle theme to her presents—the ‘lucky golf towel’, printed golf socks and a personalised scorecard holder which she honestly had bought blindly with her fingers crossed.

She chanced a look at Nick’s face when he’d opened everything, after seeing him run his finger over the monogram on the scorecard holder, and looked away instantly because she couldn’t bear the softness with which he was looking at her.

When Alex handed her a present from Nick, Morgan frowned at the size and weight of it. She opened it carefully, doing her best to ignore Nick’s close watch.

“Nick, this is ridiculous,” she protested, seeing the Nintendo Switch packaging.

“It’s selfish,” he assured her, his arm finally wrapping around her shoulders. “We can finally play games together when we’re not in the same room.”

She thanked him in a whisper and stared down at the gift. When she lifted her eyes for half a second, she caught Nolan’s eye just long enough to register the wink he sent her way.

And still it paled in comparison to the gift labelled from Mom + Dad. The label itself was enough to make Morgan want to cry, and, when she revealed the small Louis Vuitton bag inside, she just let the tears fall.

“Now I know where he gets it from,” Morgan managed to squeak out, referencing the ridiculousness she had accused Nick of.

Karin told her there was something inside the bag—Morgan couldn’t believe there was more—and, sure enough, Morgan unzipped the bag and pulled out the second part of her gift.

She was out from under Nick’s arm, on her feet and hugging Karin in a flat second.

All because of an apron.

Morgan knew leaving Washington was going to be hard as soon as she’d arrived. Nick was nice enough to let her delay their departure as long as she wanted, though. Their early morning departure time turned to midday, and by midday it was clear they wouldn’t be getting into Columbus until later that evening.

It didn’t matter to Nick when they were driving. He’d originally wanted to be home in time to watch the game against Buffalo on the television, but a snowstorm in Buffalo meant that the game had been postponed, so they no longer had to be back by a certain time.

Just prior to lunch, Karin asked to speak to Morgan privately. Nick was just as confused as Morgan when she looked to him for a clue as to what to expect; Nolan stood beside him wearing his best you’re in trouble face.

Karin shooed the boys away when they lingered. She gestured for Morgan to sit down at the bay window and went about making some hot chocolate while she asked Morgan about if she was going to be alright to drive back to Columbus and when she was returning to work. It didn’t take a genius to work out that it was the lead up to the actual conversation, so Morgan sat patiently until Karin put mugs down on the table and sat down with her.

“I just want to talk to you about your knee.”

Morgan sighed, ignored the instantaneous ache, and nodded because she didn’t know what else she could do.

“It’s fine,” Morgan tried to assure Karin. “It’s really fine.”

Karin hummed, not at all believing it. Morgan needed to get better at lying.

“Nick mentioned that you’ve been trying to run again, and it hasn’t been going so well.”

“Not as well as I want,” she conceded. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”

“Karl and I have been talking and we know that it must be incredibly hard to get the treatment you need to get better, and it must be equally as terrifying when it’s already not worked so well—we want to give you a loan to get you the medical care you need.”

“You—what?”

Across the table, with her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate, Karin didn’t look as if she’d just offered Morgan wasn’t anything life changing or even important at all. Morgan wrapped her own hands around her mug and drank out of it, the burning of her tongue barely even registered.

“I know that Nick has already offered, but I don’t blame you for saying no to that kind of offer from a friend. We wanted to offer as parents.”

Morgan didn’t tell her that Nick had briefly mentioned the idea of marriage.

She did stumble over some disbelieving thank-yous and some clarifying questions before she started to cry. She had to think about it, of course, whether or not she wanted to be indebted to Karin and Karl—be indebted to the parents of a guy who had quickly become her best friend, and if it was worth the risk of something going wrong and multiple relationships going to shit.

Karin agreed to let her have time to think about it, that nothing needed to be decided any time soon, and that the offer would not be taken off the table.

When the next questions were about the drive back and whether or not the weather was good enough for them to get back safely, it gave Morgan some time to work through it before she was faced with Nick.

[msmargaretmurry]

brady/quinn 17 :)

17 - things you said that i wish you hadn't

The hotel rooms in Worcester, Mass, are exactly what one would expect from a hotel room in Worcester, Mass: nondescript, nice enough, bland in that uninspired mid-size city kind of way. Brady’s is exactly the same as Quinn’s, down to the abstract artwork on the walls. Not all of the rooms have the same art — Quinn was in Josh’s room this morning and his was different, but he is pretty sure the prints hanging on Brady’s walls are exactly the same as the ones in his own. It would be stupid to think that means something, but he thinks it a little bit anyway.

“This is stupid,” Brady says. He’s lounging against the pillows stacked at the head of his bed, long skinny legs stretched out in front of him. His BU roommate is hanging out elsewhere, apparently, although he could return any minute. Quinn is sitting cross-legged further up the mattress. On the TV, some disaster movie they found while flipping channels is playing, just for something to watch. Quinn’s not quite following the plot, but it seems like there’s some sort of climate change apocalypse happening. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how weather works.”

“Yeah, because you know so much about weather,” Quinn says.

“I know some,” Brady protests. “I took earth science.”

“Yeah, in the ninth grade.”

Brady kicks him lightly. Quinn bats his foot away.

He kind of hates that they’re here. Not, like — obviously he’s glad to see Brady. He’s always glad to see Brady, any chance he gets. But tomorrow one of them has to end the other’s season, and Quinn hates that. He can’t not hope Brady plays well, can’t not hope Brady has success. But he wants that for himself, too, for his own team. They have such a great group of guys at Michigan this year. He’s not ready for their season to be over.

Quinn twists to look at Brady. “We can change the channel if you want.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Brady sits up, scoots up closer to Quinn. “How’s your shoulder?”

A very Brady thing to ask. Quinn complained once, mildly, about it getting jammed in that stupid overtime loss to Ohio a couple of weeks ago, and it’s perfectly fine now, but Quinn doesn’t stop Brady from setting his big, warm palm against the back of it.

“It’s okay,” Quinn says, closing his eyes as Brady digs his thumb into the joint. “Not sure it’s in your best interest to be trying to fix me right now.”

“Why, because we’re enemies tomorrow?” Quinn hums an affirmative. “That’s tomorrow. I’ll worry about it when you start blasting shots from the point.”

Quinn huffs a laugh. “Shut up. No hockey talk, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Brady’s hand moves to work a knot out of Quinn’s neck. That really is helpful. Northeastern did not go easy on the Wolverines earlier. “Talk to me about something else, then.”

For a moment, Quinn just sits there, enjoying the silence and the massage. Then, against his better judgment, he asks, “How’s your new girl?”

Maybe he imagines the way Brady’s fingers pause for a second. He believes it a little bit anyway.

“She’s good,” Brady says. He presses his thumb into the wing of Quinn’s shoulder blade through his t-shirt; Quinn slumps forward to give him better access. “Really good. We’re really good.”

“That’s good,” Quinn mumbles.

“Yeah.”

“So you think it’s serious?”

“Mmm.” The hum is noncommittal, but Quinn knows the answer is yes. “Have you ever, like. Just been with someone, and it’s just really easy to picture the future?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Brady drags his knuckle down the line of Quinn’s spine. “Really? Who?”

Quinn would roll his eyes if they were open. “You, obviously.”

This time Brady’s hand really does still, and this time the silence is much heavier.

“I wish you wouldn’t say that stuff,” he finally says. Quinn sighs and sits up straight; Brady’s hand falls from his back to the bed behind him.

“Sorry,” Quinn says, rolling his shoulders. “I mean, kind of. It’s true, though.”

“Yeah, but I don’t see the point in dwelling on it.”

“I’m not dwelling. I just said it’s true.” Very Brady to think that the fact can’t exist without weighing Quinn down. Like they didn’t come to a mature mutual decision about the whole thing. You can love someone and understand that trying to be together is a bad idea. Doesn’t mean Quinn should have to pretend the feelings aren’t there.

“I don’t see how you can talk about it without dwelling,” Brady mumbles, and scoots back to sit sulkily against the pillows again.

“Sorry,” Quinn says again. He is, a little. Mostly sorry if he’s ruined the evening. He touches Brady’s bony knee. “Do you want me to go?”

Brady heaves a sigh, but shakes his head. “Just watch this stupid movie with me.”

Onscreen, more bad weather is happening. People are running, screaming. Quinn sits quietly and watches, wondering if people ever really get over a first love.

After a few minutes, Brady tugs on the back of Quinn’s shirt. Without a word, Quinn scoots back to lean back against the pillows next to him. Brady wraps his arm around Quinn, and Quinn rests his head on Brady’s shoulder. The warmth of his body is horribly, perfectly familiar.

They stay like that until the credits roll. It would be stupid to think it means something, but Quinn thinks it a little bit anyway.

[the-spaced-out-ace]

Lautski Week! Day 1: Warmth

lautski nation we are so back. i've been so excited for this week sm

What a pretty sky, Pete thought as he walked the sidewalk. November was the pinnacle of wintertime to him, even if the solstice was technically a few weeks later. December was chilly even by Michigan standards, and the constant bright lights from holiday decorations could make walks downtown a bit too overstimulating as it got darker out. Likewise, January was far too dreary, because all dressings of the town were taken down entirely, and in both January and February, the weather didn’t hit the same. The sky was too grey and the snow too heavy. But November? November was just right. The air was newly crisp and therefore hadn’t become miserable yet, and the first fresh snow of the year was always the most exciting. It was the softest and purest since it had no interaction with people and animals yet, and, in Pete’s opinion, it was the most exciting to watch. The first snow indicated the turning point in the year, for things to finally wind down and for the holidays to start, and then for the New Year, eventually, though it still didn’t compare to the start of the cold. 

That being said, though Pete may have liked November, November did not necessarily like him back.

Sensory-wise, the cold tended to hit him hard, and given he lived in the Northern Midwestern lake town, there was no escaping the absolute frigidity that arrived with late autumn. And lucky, lucky Pete, it didn’t take much for him to start shivering, let alone frostbitten. Which is why he took to two pairs of gloves at the first sign of snow every year. Maybe a bit overkill, but it was essential to his own survival.

(Or at least, that was how he assured himself when he was little, and he stuck to it to this day.)

Pete glanced back over to Steph, walking at his side. They’d made plans to go to his place that afternoon so he could help her study for her bio final, though she first accompanied him to the library. A book he’d put on hold was finally returned and Steph and Pete had agreed that it would have made more sense for them to do everything in one trip, and ever since Steph had taught him her personal short cut from the far side of the school to back downtown, Pete had kept it in mind as an easy enough walk. Which was the main reason they were walking now. So Pete gripped the book as tightly as he could with both pairs of gloves on, rather deep in thought of getting to start it later and how pretty the sky really was and how nice it was he somehow ended up with Steph, let alone that she was walking home with him.

Speaking of which.

“Damn, Spankoffski,” she said. “You’re holding onto that thing with your life. Why not just put it in your backpack?”

“Too much hassle. I don’t want to take my gloves on and off too much,” he said. “It’s time consuming and causes a scene. I don’t need a scene.”

“Right,” she said. “Messes with the invisibility you’re building up, doesn’t it?” 

“Exactly. Not worth the risk.”

“Well, why not adjust somewhere you’re a bit more integrated?” she said. “Beanie’s on me this time. How ‘bout that?”

Before she could take no for an answer, she sped ahead so she could beat him to his regular coffee place. He pulled behind, careful not to get too fast for his own good and slip on the ice. By the time Pete entered the building himself, Steph was already halfway through the line. 

“You didn’t even wait for an answer,” he said as he walked back up to her.

“I wasn’t gonna take any answer but fuck yeah, Steph, let’s go,” she laughed. “Go ahead and sit down and put your book away. I’ll be right there with your hot chocolate.”

Pete nodded. “Could you ask for—”

“—almond milk instead of whole. Don’t worry.”

Admittedly, her cutting him off took him by surprise. No matter how many times they’d made coffee trips together, Pete still couldn’t fathom she just remembered little things about his orders like that.

“I guess I’ll meet you at that table,” he said, pointing behind him. And with that, he turned around and sat down in the left chair, sitting his library book down, then taking his backpack off, then finally pulling off his gloves, one at a time. Steph was right. No one was going to give him a second thought about someone taking gloves off inside. What a no-brainer. 

(Maybe getting negative attention for far less at school is what made him so anxious about doing anything in public. More than he was in general, at least.)

Steph joined him about ten minutes later, his hot chocolate in one hand and her hazelnut latte in the other (okay, she remembered his milk alternative preference, he remembered her favorite drink despite his not understanding the difference between most coffee words. Maybe they were even). “Here you go,” she said. “Beat your low blood sugar or something, right?”

“Right,” he said. He zipped his backpack back up and took a sip. “I gotta ask though, is this a ploy to procrastinate studying?”

“Nothing gets past you, nerd.” Steph smiled. “I do appreciate you helping though. You’re my only hope at this point.”

“Too much pressure,” Pete said. “I’m no Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“What?”

“Next time Ruth and I go on a Star Wars marathon, you should join us,” Pete said. “I think a lot more of what we say will make sense.”

“Noted,” Steph said, then took a sip of her own drink. “Mm, yeah. This was a good call on my part. Way better than braving the cold. I can feel myself warming back up already.”

“I don’t mind the weather today,” Pete said. “Mostly because the sky is still really crisp. It hasn’t gotten grey and dreary yet.”

“Mind if I ask you something then?” Steph asked. Pete shook his head. “Why do you wear two pairs of gloves, then?”

Pete shrugged. “My hands are always really cold. The extra pair makes it more comfortable to walk out in the cold.”

Steph smirked. “Is that so?” she asked. “Let me do some science like you’ve taught me. Observation: you claim your hands are super cold, so my hypothesis is that if I feel them for myself, maybe they’ll warm up pretty quickly.”

Pete looked down then, not necessarily disliking this sudden excuse for her to flirt with him, but still surprised nonetheless. “I’ve got my drink, that’ll warm me up—”

“So you’re passing up this opportunity to touch my hand?”

“...no.”

“Let me feel them.”

Pete held out his hands, and Steph took them. She shifted a bit as she did. 

“You weren’t kidding, Spankoffski. They’re ice cold. How do you live like this?”

“No clue,” he said. “Just used to it, I guess.” 

“Well, is this giving any solace?” Steph asked. 

Pete nodded. Though he wasn’t necessarily a physical person by nature, the people in his life (mostly Ruth and Steph) certainly were, so he didn’t mind moments like these. Plus, her hands were naturally warm, as far as he could tell, and they were even helping him warm up too. Maybe this would be a good example of thermal equilibrium, if that topic ever came up in tutoring. That could be a way to get back at her and let himself be the one instigating the date distraction some time. 

For now though, Pete could let that slide. 

Homework could wait. Right now he’d rather look at the November sky through Beanie’s front window while warming up with his girlfriend, hand in hand.