sweetie girl ୨ৎ

Hey so, I usually try to steer away from negative topics on here but I've noticed a BIG uptick of negiativity and just fucking weirdos on shiftblr so this is going to be my hopefully one time and last time talking about my stance on this.

Do not interact with me if you shift to be a victim of pedophilia or a pedophile

Do not interact with me if you shift to have romantic or sexual relations with a family member

Do not interact with me if you are transphobic/homophobic

Do not interact with me if you support that weird fucking shiftblrtea account

Do not interact with me if you are racist or shift to be another race to fetishize it

Do not interact with me if you support any MAGA or right wing ideologies

That is it, goodbye my dearies. Take a little break from all the toxicity, we all need it

You had spent the last three days absolutely perfecting a brownie recipe. Not too sweet, not too bland. Fudgy, decadent, and delicious. Holding a Tupperware full of them in front of your chest, you reach to knock on the front door.

After waiting long enough to debate leaving, Chris finally pulls open the entrance.

Similar jeans and a black t-shirt spotted with paint stains hang over his body. He has his arm folded up to his wet hair, and is drying it with a towel. Soap, cologne, and the distinct smell of heated water radiates from him.

Great. You interrupted his shower.

He’s looking back at you, tilting his head as if he’s waiting for you to speak first.

“Hey! Um… I remember you saying you lived at the end of the street,” you ramble. “I just wanted to bring something and introduce myself to the neighbours. I know we’ve already met but…”

“Aint that usually the other way around?” He questions, “Aint I supposed to bring you something to welcome you to the neighbourhood?”

Gulping, you answer, “You already helped me plenty. Think of this as a thank you!”

“Well good, ‘cause I can’t bake for shit.” Chris laughs, taking the container you were pushing towards him. “Have you gone to over there yet?” He points across the way.

Turning, you see a small, lovely-looking house with a picket fence. Vintage charm blanketed the whole neighborhood, but this house in particular seemed like a diamond in the ruff. Freshly planted flowers, pink trim under the windows, and a bright layer of white paint over the house made it shine. Despite being petite, it gleamed with the allure of a fine country home.

“No, I haven’t,” you admit. The truth was, Chris’s place was the only you were planning on visiting with the brownies.

“You better. Elaine’s a real people-person.”

Relief washes over you. It had been weeks since you’d spoken to another woman, and it was sure to boost your morale. Home sickness had become almost impossible to bear, despite constant calls with your mother and sisters. Even though you were in West Virginia and not Wisconsin anymore, a female friendship would certainly make you feel more at home.

Sauntering back to your house, you immediately immerse yourself in the kitchen. Tailoring perfectly to the aesthetic of Elaine’s house, you expertly whip up raspberry scones. You thought it gave feminine and classic, the impression you had of Elaine.

Wasting no time, you amble down the unpaved road. Having been raised on farmland in the midwest, you were used to these kinds of towns. What you weren’t familiar with was the houses being close enough together that you could walk to them. Growing up, the nearest family was half a mile away. You prefer this layout, though—a strong community was something you always wanted to be a part of.

You knock on the pretty white door. It pulls open almost instantly.

In the entryway stands a woman you knew you’d get along with. Long blonde hair cascades down her sides, locks twisting in flawless curls. A patterned half apron is tied at the waist of her sundress. She is beautifully put together—an idealistic southern belle. You immediately felt much more at ease, having found someone your age in the area. There was Chris—but even he had some years on you.

“Well hey there darlin’,” she greeted, her accent reminding you how far you were from home.

“Hi! I’m the new neighbor, i just wanted to introduce myself.” You say, and give her your name.

“How sweet! I’m Elaine. Now, come inside, don’t need ya getting burnt up out there.” She smiles, and gestures for you to come through the doorway.

Stepping inside, it was obvious it matched the beauty of the outside. Quaint but decorative, everything about the home screamed country living.

“I’m just cookin’ dinner for my husband, he’ll be home shortly here.” She walked to the kitchen as if your presence was casual.

You followed. She was already at the stove, searing a steak.

“Pour yourself some sweet tea,” she offered, turning to point at a pitcher on the counter.

“I won’t interrupt your dinner, I just wanted to bring over some scones and say hello.” You place the plastic-wrapped plate down.

“Aren’t you just a peach,” she began pouring your tea for you. “I already ate, and my husband won’t mind that you’re over. He loves the company, especially from someone who’s intrigued his brother.”

“Brother?” You tilt your head, sipping at the drink.

Elaine looks up as the front door opens. You follow her gaze, only to be met with a sight that confuses your mind.

Strolling in the house is a man near identical to Chris. Same brooding stature, same blue-collar aesthetic, same features. The only difference was a beard that laid on this man’s lower face.

Throwing his keys on a side table, he sees you. “Ah, new neighbour?”

You introduce yourself, shake his hand, and try not to seem foolish.

“This is my husband, Matt. Chris’s brother.” Elaine walks over, dress swaying as she gives him a kiss.

Twin brother, you correct mentally. “Nice to meet you!”

Matt sits down at the island next to you, his wife preparing food on a plate. The staple, traditional atmosphere makes you feel at ease. They both seemed so at peace with their routine.

“How’s that sink treating you? Any more problems?” He asks, cutting his steak.

“No, no. Chris really fixed it up.” You couldn’t help but wonder why Chris had told his brother about such a mundane task.

“So, what brings you to the middle of nowhere?”

You smile at Matt’s question. “I guess I’ve always wanted to live in the country. Found a good deal on a house with a big kitchen, and here I am.”

“Have you met any other people in the community yet?” Elaine asks.

“Just you guys and… Chris.” His name leaving your mouth makes your cheeks blush.

“He seems to like you,” Matt says, “he usually doesn’t talk to anyone but us.”

This doesn’t help ease the flush of your face.

“Matt, hush. You’re embarrassing the girl.” Elaine quips.

He just smiles into his fork, biting his food.

“No, it’s okay. I… like him too,” you say, staring into the glass in your cup.

Elaine shoots her husband a look that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Her eyebrows are raised, and a tight smirk is curled at her lip. It almost signified that they were planning something.

a/n: I’ve switched up my style a bit—writing and theme. lemme know what you think!

Also, sorry to the people in my taglist 😭 I’ve been so active lately. (Can you tell I haven’t worked in 5 days)