#mcr fluff

this was too cute, thank you for requesting it<3 no warnings just fluff

The tour bus rattled down some endless European highway, the engine humming low beneath the rain tapping the roof. It was well past midnight, the only light in the narrow bunk corridor some dim orange glow from a reading lamp clipped to the curtain rail.

Summary: Pretty much about Stoner!Frank, whom you met at a basement party your college friend threw. He was cute, and he knew it. You were the prettiest girl at the party.

Words: 1.468.

Warnings: mischievous reader, weed mention (written by a weed lover, sorry), alcohol, stoner!Frank supremacy, excessive flirting, poor life choices, mildly suggestive content.

A/N: hiii everyone! i've been obsessed with this kind of content lately, so I ended up writing this in my free time. pls mind that english isn't my first language and i've never actually been to the us, so some details or cultural references might not be 100% accurate.

i wanted to keep this simple and easy to read because that's basically the whole vibe. anywayyyy, i have no idea if i'll end up writing more stuff like this, but pls let me know if you liked it! ♡

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A friend invited you to a shitty (yet somehow the most fun) basement party he threw every now and then at his late grandmother's old house on the outskirts of the city, in a quiet suburb that resembled the countryside more than an urban neighborhood. It always felt like a good option whenever you wanted to get away from New York.

From the outside, the house looked quiet enough. But the second you stepped through the front door, the noise hit you. Music, laughter, people talking over one another. It didn't take long after walking in for you to realize that everyone there felt pretty much the same as you and was looking for a break from real life.

You ran into a couple people from your color theory class near the bar and ended up talking with them for what felt like an hour. By the time you felt the buzz settling into your limbs, all you wanted was a cigarette, inviting one of your classmates outside for a smoke.

That's when you saw him.

He was standing against the wall, a joint hung loosely between his fingers as he passed it around to the guys next to him. When he exhaled a cloud of smoke and glanced your way, your eyes met.

And just like that, you thought he was cute.

Dangerously cute.

You lit your cigarette and kept talking to your classmate about teachers and classes, but every now and then your attention drifted back to the cute stoner with the crooked smile.

"I think you've got a fan" your friend said.

Your eyes followed hers and landed on the stoner guy. He had been watching you without even trying to hide it. 

Not looking away.

Not pretending he hadn't been caught.

Just watching.

You were curious and mischievous, so you stared back without breaking eye contact for several long seconds, until he finally looked away.

You couldn't help but smirk.

You always liked making guys uncomfortable, especially the ones you liked.

By the end of your second cigarette, it felt like a shame to go back inside and lose sight of him, but when Whatsername by Green Day started playing through the speakers, you felt the urge to sing along.

You were halfway through the second verse when a voice interrupted your singing.

"You definitely look like a Green Day kind of girl," he said.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you replied, tucking your hair behind your right ear and knowing exactly what you were doing. "Are you a Green Day kind of boy?"

"In every possible way, pretty" he laughed.

It was the kind of laugh that made your stomach betray you. The kind that immediately told you it was trouble. The fun kind of trouble.

"I'm Frank."

"Cute." you said it so casually that he widened his eyes before laughing out loud.

"So you think I'm cute?"

"Sure." you smirked. "And your name somehow makes you seem even cuter."

"Are you with anyone, or...?"

His curious eyes wandered across your face as if you were some kind of artwork.

“You mean… If I’m with anyone?” you watched him nod slowly, wearing the dumbest smile. He was definitely high. "No. Not really."

"So do you like cute guys?"

"All cool girls like cute guys."

Something lit up in his eyes. You had him.

"Do you like cool girls?" you asked.

"Yeah. I also like pretty girls and for the record, I think you're the prettiest girl at this party." he gave you a smug smile that somehow still looked vulnerable.

You felt like you could eat him alive.

"Probably the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

You gave him a nasty look, letting him know how unbearable that sounded, and took his beer can from his cold, tattooed hands.

You took a long, painful sip on it before giving it back and turning your back on him as the song was about to end.

You knew he’d follow you, which is exactly what he did. Once outside again, you found a safe spot far from most people, a place in between the parked cars.

You lit a cigarette as you leaned your back on someone’s dirty Corolla and watched Frank stumble on his own feet as he walked his way to you like a lost puppy.

God, you were loving it.

You didn’t say a word and offered him your own cigar when he was close enough, giving him a hungry look as he reached it.

“At first look I thought you were too goofy,” you said. “You know? But now, looking again, you seem annoyingly adorable."

“I thought you said I was cute.”

“Isn’t it the same thing?”

“As long as you like it,” he took a step in your direction, “and as long as it guarantees I have a chance of… You know… Getting to know you better.”

“You don’t wanna know me better, I’m fucking trouble. But you already know it, right?” now you took a step in his direction.

“All New York folks are trouble,” he said.

You could now feel the warmth of his body as you slowly stepped back to lean on the car, and he followed you, gently pressing his body against yours.

You tilted your head to reach for his lips without losing sight of the stupid hot smirk he gave you. When you finally touched, Frank raised his hands to both sides of your waist and let out a long sigh in between your kiss once he finally touched you.

Smiling in between the hot kisses you shared, you felt the air thicker and hotter with each passing second, being unable to control the urge of letting a few wet moans fill Frank’s lips.

You felt him getting harder and bigger while pressing you against the cold car, and your legs started to tremble when he slid his cold hands inside your shirt.

“You’re not fucking me here outdoors, but you got 10 seconds to figure out where you can.” you said breaking the kiss for the first time.

Frank laughed loudly, and it took him just 3 seconds to recompose himself and stare at you with starry needy eyes.

He didn’t say a word but gave you a wide smile and started walking between the parked cars when, at some point, he took his car keys from the back pocket and unlocked an old Toyota, guiding you inside it on the front passenger seat.

Frank entered the car on the driver's seat but didn’t give you time to ask where you were heading to, simply throwing his body over you as he reclined your seat and started kissing you again.

This time he seemed more desperate, hungry even. His hands ran all over your body as if he wasn’t sure it was real.

Grabbing, nailing, and pinching, it was a messy way to gain more and more moans out of you in between kisses.

When you couldn’t hold it back anymore and took out the belt on his already tight pants, he moaned loudly inside your mouth, taking a few seconds to let his lazy eyes take a good look at you again.

“You’re so fucking pretty, jeez."

The small space between the car made everything feel even hotter, his devoted eyes, his whimpering and troublesome hands.

As your moans got louder and louder and bottom clothes went missing, he kept pressing his body against you as if he could come just by it.

The situation made it pretty clear that both of you were in sync and foreplay wasn’t much needed.

Frank held you tight and warm that Saturday night in his car for the first time, making you reach your most delicious peak so easily you felt ridiculous.

When you had enough of the sloppy and wet kisses and both could finally breathe again, Frank sat back in the driver's seat and opened the windows.

You shared a joint and spent hours talking about your lives, likes, and dislikes.

Frank was from New Jersey and was heading back home in 2 days. He liked dogs, worked on a tattoo shop and played on a band. He sang along to all your favorite Green Day songs and took you home.

You never told him your name. He did ask, but you'd rather not. He saved your contact as Whatsername.

Frank was adorable, which made him an absolute no.

No ever meeting again, no ever sleeping together again. No ever meeting your parents and no, absolutely no, never, giving him your sour heart.

Yet, when you got home and laid down on your bed, putting your phone off on the bedside table, you couldn't help but wonder if he’d ever call you again.

warnings: 18+, degradation, humiliation kink, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, orgasm control, power imbalance.

an: thats my shit right there. holy cow best request ever and all my requests are fucking awesome

↪︎𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “After a month without seeing your boyfriend because he’s been on tour, you finally get to surprise him. And it seems he’s been a little.. frustrated..”

↪︎𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: established relationship, one-shot, MCR, gerard way, revenge!gee, smut

↪︎𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: rough sex, size difference, height difference, unprotected sex, creampie

↪︎𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gerard way x f!reader

↪︎𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing | 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐜: 2.5K+ |

↪︎𝐀/𝐍: guys i know gee most likely would NOT do this and it’s unrealistic, but if i write with out an ask, it’s for MY pleasure so if you dont like it don’t read it 🩷🩷

↪︎𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @lizbizeeee @rileyisstuckinamoshpit @fake-ur-death89 @jetsetlifesgonnakillu @ayeshaerotica101 @ratridingaskateboard @unholy-b0y @st4rzsthings @sicilyfart @mewqqi

You stand in the crowd full of people, sweat dripping down your skin. You were in San Francisco, and it was hot. It was also the middle of summer, which made it worse. But, if you got to see your boyfriend perform it made it better. Especially after a month without seeing each other.

There has been a lot of nudes sent, and a lot of sexting which is all you can say. And for you, your vibrator and Dildo have never been used more. And for Gerard, well his hands were definitely used a lot more than usual. But now, you’re surprising him. No more fake cock, hopefully a real one.

You look up at him performing, wondering how he hasn’t noticed you. The manager knows you very well of course, from all the calls last Warped Tour and you having to call the manager to take Gerard on a walk. So he got you barricade tickets. He’s been screaming and jumping around, but you notice he’s much more energetic when you’re at his shows.

You were on the shorter side, so maybe that’s why he couldn’t see you. You asked a fan if you could go on their shoulders, and of course they said yes considering you were their ‘cult leader’s’ long time girlfriend that saved his life. You smiled, watching him perform. Now, he has to be able to see you.

“If you were..” He sang, then looked directly at you. He trailed off for a second, but went back to singing. He smiled and gave a little wave to you, then went back to screaming and thrashing around. You were never a huge fan of the music, but of course you still moved a little bit.

You giggle to yourself, thinking about what would happen if you flash your tits to him. He’d probably be pissed, you shouldn’t. But on the other hand.. If he’s angry you get it rougher.. Oh fuck it, what’s he going to do? He may be bigger but he’s a total pussy.

You wait until he looks at you again. He thrashes his head right next to you, and you can feel the sweat flick on you. You wait until he’s looking back up at you again, and that’s when you do it. You lift your tank top up, your tits bouncing out. You didn’t wear any bra, because it would just be extra work for Gerard.

Gerard’s eyes widened but he still sang. He reached out to pull your tank top down, his thumb (very much on purpose) brushing against your nipple. You laughed, watching Gerard keep singing. He looked pissed, that’s for sure. You could already feel yourself soaking your little thong, hopefully this girl can’t feel the warmth spreading through your shorts.

It’s after the show, and you’re walking to backstage. The security guards instantly let you in, having a note from the manager obviously. You walked around, trying to find Gee. You started to get a little scared, what if he left already? What if h-

You get cut off when you feel someone smack your ass roughly. You turn around instantly with a smile on your face, already knowing it’s Gerard. He always slaps your ass. “Hi baby!” You exclaim, getting on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around his neck. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

He speaks, smiling slightly but the anger still evident in his face. “I just thought I’d surprise you. Couldn’t wait much longer.” You smile, running your hands through his greasy hair. You move your thigh a little bit, then feel something like a brick press against your inner thigh. Yep, as you expected.

“You just.. couldn’t wait till we got backstage huh? Gotta show your tits to everyone?” He says, not a single trace of a smile evident on his face. “I just thought I’d give you a sneak peek.” You smile, trying to crack a joke but he doesn’t laugh at all. “Yeah, it wasn’t really fucking funny.” He mumbles, grabbing your wrist and practically dragging you to the dressing room.

You bite your lip in anticipation of what’s gonna happen. You’re almost 100% sure you’re so wet you’re leaking through your tiny shorts. He shuts and locks the door behind you, then he’s instantly shoving you over the arm of the couch. “What the fuck was that out there?”

He scolds, bending you over. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to get your attention!” You say, trying to put on your best scared act. But you still arch your back and just try to get even the tiniest poke of his cock against your painfully aching pussy. “Well job accomplished, you have my fucking attention.” He spits out, grabbing a chunk of your hair from the scalp and pulling your head back.

You moan, looking up at him. “Open.” He commands. You open your mouth, letting your tongue loll out. He spits in your mouth, and it tastes like shit, probably because he most likely hasn’t brushed his teeth in days. You swallow it regardless though, thankful for anything from him. He lets go of your hair and lets your head fall forward, and before you can even function that, he’s pulling your jean shorts down.

You hold your breath, knowing he’s looking right at your skimpy little lacey thong. He hasn’t seen it yet, you bought it a few days ago. “Such a fucking slut, wearing a piece of string.” He says, giving your ass a firm smack. You whimper, arching your back more for more. Instead of smacking it again, he yanks your thong down to your knees.

A string of your milky clear arousal connects your slit to the rest of the wetness soaking your thong. “You’re soaking just seeing me. You’re a fucking cunt.” He says, giving your aching pussy a firm smack. You moan, your knees turning inward slightly. “You missed me huh? Missed my cock? All your dildo’s and vibrators can’t compare to the real thing can they baby?”

He whispers in your ear, throwing his belt on the dressing room floor some where. “M-mhm..” You hummed, just wanting him pounding you already. “Use your words.” He speaks firmly, pulling his jeans down to his mid-thigh. “Yes..” You say shakily, getting a tiny glimpse at the huge bulge in his boxers.

Your pussy leaks out a little bit more of wetness just at the sight of it. “Been thinkin’ about your little tight pussy all tour.. My hand just doesn’t compare..” He mumbles, pulling his blue boxers down, and you can hear his cock slap against his pudgy tummy. You almost moan just at hearing it. “Please..”

You beg, desperate. “Please what?” He asks, teasing you. “Please fuck me..” You moan, getting impatient. “I guess, since you’ve been a bit better..” He says, but you know he’s also impatient also. And the second you feel his thick, leaking tip rub against your folds, you swear you lose your mind.

You moan, feeling his leaking head nudge between your folds as he grinds his slit against your puffy clit. “Gerard please!” You moan, your hands gripping the couch cushion. He doesn’t respond, but instead just gives your sopping pussy a few slaps with his girthy length. You’re about to start sobbing until you feel his abnormally thick head press at your entrance.

“Oh god.. fuck..” He groans, slowly but surely pressing into your tight hole. You moan, his cock stretching your tiny hole perfectly. You feel him push deeper in, and you get more and more full with every inch he basically squeezes in. Your legs tremble, feeling his tip press against your cervix as he’s about balls deep.

You’re a bit disappointed that he’s going slow, and you’re about to ask him to go fast, but then you feel him quickly pull out until he’s basically falling out of you, then he slams back in. You practically scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He moans loudly, repeatedly copying that move as his balls slap against your ass loudly with each rough thrust.

“Fuck Gerard!” You moan, your pussy clenching his dick like a vice. You feel him grip your hips, his love handles pounding abnormally fast in and out of you. He pants and moans, and he can feel himself about to cum. He’s always been a little embarrassed with how fast he can cum, but he knows you don’t really care.

“Oh god I’m gonna cum..” He moans, his hips snapping more and more harder. “Me too!” You moaned, your walls squeezing him so tightly he could barely move any more. He groans, shooting hot, thick, deep ropes inside you. You moan loudly, cumming right after.

also shoutout that one interview where mikey said he likes pizza.

tags: mikey way x reader, fluff, sfw, drabble, gn!reader

ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃

"Is that it?" you asked the man across the counter. You looked at his current order. Fucking Christ. You've worked at this place for a while now, and you've never seen a list this long. Hell, you had to actually scroll down to view everything.

Despite your poor attempts at masking your judgement, your eyes couldn't help but carry a look of concern. The man could tell you were making mental commentary about him.

"...No," he said with a sigh, as if he was disappointed with himself. You had to physically restrain yourself from having a reaction.

"Can I- Uh... Just one more pepperoni, please", he said politely, like manners could socially save him from this awkward ass situation.

You typed the extra pizza in, looking up from your register after, hoping (for the both of you) that that was the last item. When he gave no response, you read the list to him.

"Alright. So you've got," you scrolled back up to the top of the screen, then mustered up the cheeriest tone you could, "two pepperonis, three cheese, one hawaiian, one everything with stuffed crust, four breadsticks, and two garlic knots." You held your breath, praying that you didn't miss anything, and trying to stop yourself from laughing at how ridiculous his order was.

The man nodded his head, his lips pursed. You displayed the price on the register, to which he promptly paid... in cash. Wow. This really couldn't get any rougher. You had to give it to him, he was pretty good at counting coins.

You handed him his receipt. He thanked you for it and started walking away from the counter — though not before leaving a couple dollars in your tip jar. There was a whole policy your company had about tips, but with you being the closer for the night, and the absolutely insane order this guy was giving you minutes before closing, you told yourself it was ok to pocket what was left for you that night.

While baking the... you lost count, actually. Anyway, while baking the fifty billion things the guy got, you couldn't help but overhear him on the phone, presumably with his friends.

"Y-Yeah, I'll be home soon I just-" He was doing a bad job at keeping his voice down.

"Ok, well you guys wanted like thirty things! I'm not gonna be outta here until like... I dunno, the next fucking day."

There was silence as the other person on the line spoke.

"You guys are all talking at once."

Ok, other people on the line, then.

"Frank just shut the hell up! Okay? Get Gerard on the line Jesus fucking Christ..."

You couldn't help but giggle to yourself. You had to admit, it was pretty entertaining hearing this shy dude be suddenly so lively on the phone, even if he was getting a bit agitated.

"Hey, Gee. I was just tryna let you kn- ...Yes. Yes, I got your hawaiian. Now where's- Did you just fucking hang up on me? Hello? Oh my G- Oh! Hey, Ray. God, you're the only sane person in that room right now..."

The man had lowered his voice quite significantly, so you shifted work stations to hear him better. Waiting on the breadsticks to bake, you stood at the prep station to make some more dough.

"I mean, it's kinda embarrassing, y'know? Like, I feel really bad... They're closing, and I just ordered a buncha shit... Now I just look like a fatass, just buying all this stuff for myself."

He was right. You did kinda think he was getting all this just for himself. After all, he was ordering alone. And he was the last customer of the night.

"And to make things worse," he swallowed before speaking again, "w-well... they're kinda cute."

You froze at that. Surely he's not talking about you...? Okay, maybe you judged him too harshly earlier. You had to admit, he was pretty polite, and not bad-looking either. Besides, he left a tip. A shitty tip, but a tip nonetheless.

"Yeah, I tipped. It was a bad tip though..." Hey, at least he was self aware.

"Well if you guys gave me more cash then- What? I'm not desperate! Hey, even if they weren't hot, I would've tipped them anyway. It's not like I'm paying for them to give me a shot. I mean, I'd like it but-"

"You're all set!" you called out, plopping the man's boxes on the counter.

He froze, turning to you, a red hue flooding his face. "I'll see you later," he quickly said to whoever he was calling before snapping his phone shut and hanging up.

The man walked over to you, thanking you as he picked up the boxes. An idea came into your mind. "Oh- hold on!" You ran to get some napkins, leaving his sight. You pulled a shitty knock-off Sharpie out from a random drawer, scribbling your number on the bottom napkin.

You returned to the counter, placing the pile of napkins on top of the boxes. You flashed him a smile, and he gave you one back.

"Thanks, have a good night," he called out as he began to leave the pizza shop.

"You too," you replied, watching him walk out the door.

hii sweet baby anon, yes yes my beautiful ray toro!!! i got a really nice ask last night for ray so thatll come next. love u all!! kisses ♥︎_♥︎

• he found you really cool and unknowingly he chased you down at the end of their shows, one of their first in jersey

• you thought he was cute and decided to give it a shot, it had been a while since you dated anyone ever since your last break up

• on your first date, he did everything right opening your door, laughing at all your jokes, complimenting you. although you were a bit shy at first the both of you opened up to each other after a while

• he was always at a show or practice, making time for you but it was never enough he was always too busy

• but you guys made it work, he always always invited you to band practice and took you back to his place afterwards. made sure his friends knew their place with you and had them be on their best behavior

• once the band took off, he made sure you came on tour with him. he couldnt handle being far away from you for so long so the only reasonable choice is bringing you with him! he makes sure your all taken care of while on the super! nasty! tour! bus!

• the kindest boyfriend ever, he still acts like just how he did when you guys started dating. peppering your face and neck with kisses, complimenting you every morning and night. “baby,, baby youre so cute, come lay with me sweet girl i can take such good care of you,,cmon bunny” ALL. NIGHT. LONG.

• buys you everything and anything you want. you pick up a necklace? he has the receipt in hand! you skim some skirts? he has bought you every type!

• me thinks,, acts of service & words of affirmation. he will do everything at the snap of your fingers and praise you til the world ends.

• you show him the same amount of love all the time but he always ends up one uping you ♥︎

INSTITUTIONALIZED

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pairing: gerard way x female reader

summary: you meet him while in a mental institution, shy and silent, and start to finally enjoy a bit of your time here.

notes: THE NAME IS FROM THE SUICIDAL TENDENCIES SONG. Im sorry if i portrayed anything incorrectly. I tried my best with no previous experience and im sure they would not be allowed to get this close in an actual facility but like this is fanfiction its fake i cant be perfect idk

word count: 2106

FLUFF BELOW THE CUT!

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young teacher frank x single mom reader ! sfw right now nsfw eventually. this is fluff motherfucker pure fluff. or world building idk. afab reader, you have a daughter that is your own. semi-slow burn. long form. this is part one

elsie may, shoes on young lady c'mon now.

blonde curls run in circles by your feet. her hair pillowing down by the sides of her face. the outfit you guys had perfectly picked out for her first day at her new school-semi ruined with streaks of Nutella and jam from breakfast. her cheeks are nearly neon red as she runs and giggles in circles- chasing bratney, your dog. your shoes are on but not even buckled as you run up behind her to kick her into your legs with an affectionate ooomph

turning around to face you, Elise smiles up at you with the picture of innocence. what mischief. she laughs as she is caught in your grasp, "mama-mama brat need," brat don't need nothing goose, now c'mon, lifting her up-you sit her on your lap at the shoe-bench by the door.

the house is still full with boxes, the new move not really completed yet. but with the new place comes new beginnings. you just have to believe that. it's been a complicated- to say the least, few months. but Elsie is a trooper- finding the move exciting. she keeps talking about building a castle from the 50 boxes stacked in your walk-way. something about that makes your chest hurt.

tugging on her scuffed Mary Janes, she smiles up at you as you focus "ill be good, mama I prom-promise-" and you smile as you finish up I know honey, im not worried bout' that. tumbling you and her up onto your feet- you slot yourself behind her in front of the mirror by the door. we are brave "mhm" we are smart "mhm" we are kind "mhm" we are wonderful "mhm! we- we are we!". silly girl. out of the door, and into the fray.

the drive is easy, elsie sings along to the terrible collection of 80's dad rock you keep in the car. bratney is cradled in the back seat- used to sleeping in the car. the drives is only 20 minutes, but with your own ramping anxiety of dropping her off- it feels like 15.

3 and three quaters's is a difficult age for a little one. new things are constantly happening- so home life should be steady, supportive. a move at this time- not to mention the separation of it all, would off kilter any young person. but Elise is your daughter. adaptable and curious. obsessed with learning. when you were little, the idea of going to a new school alone would be like doing the polka on a sky-wire. elsie dances that line with pride.

moving into the parking lot, the school looks sweet. small and almost rural- it has the best reviews in the city, with a pre-school room too boot. low ceilings and a bright red door, a group of kids mud around the front play area. you can see a few adults scattered around, those kids were probably a breakfast-club of some sort. maybe you could ask the teachers advice on getting out jam stains. you fix your hair in the mirror- and take a second to buckle your shoes. it isn't perfect, but it is something- maybe more casual that business casual but its done so it is fine. we all good ms.may? "sure am ms.-ms mama!"

you both laugh as you un-buckle her from her car-seat. she grips onto you like a monkey would a tree. you give her a kiss to her mess of curls and carry her to the door. you feel a little like crying. separation anxiety is a bitch. she's your little girl, your baby. watching her shift and grow is almost too much to bare. when you reach the gate, a young woman comes and opens it for you as elsie grips tighter. yeah, she's still your daughter. she's as spooked as you are.

"who do we have here-" "I DONT TALK TO STRANGERS!" you laugh as you tuck elsie closer to you, hushing sorry-a little nervous to the poor nursery worker. she nods dutifully and points you to the red door, mouthing 'first door on your right' you nod and hold the shaking girl to you.

walking into the building, its just like a big house. kids drawings plastered all over the walls, each classroom has a hand-drawn sign marking the name of each teacher. its very sweet, warm. you feel a sigh of relief when you hear kids laughter and pockets of silence through out the building. walking past another uniformed teacher you ask for the principles office. she points you to the door in the top left.

the principle is nice. doesn't try and bother elsie-may with conversation. she only prods slightly about the move, asking why you moved the this small town of all places.you explain how working in an archivist's position at the local library, specifically with zine history- is a position few and far between, so you took it no matter the distance. "your elsie is in Frank's class-first names instead of last, keeps the kids personal" you nod along at the older woman, as she shifts you out of his office and toward a room at the front of the building. the door is coated in drawings.

different sketches of a man in a blue polo, helping kids out. playing. one of them has his dressed up like a wizard- huge star covered hat and cape. you trace your finger over a picture, a small flower at the centre of the door, a child like thank you written out under the single daisy. you smile as the principle opens the door. elsie gripping ever tighter to your arms.

"we've got a new-comer frank-"

he's surprisingly cute. kind of terribly cute. soft dark hair, round cheeks and a quizzical look on is face. he's biting his knuckle at his desk. looking over a large stack of papers marked transfer- you would guess its Elise's info. "frank-this is Elsie" speaks the principle.

he looks up immediately. the eye contact is semi sudden. you watch his face flush kindly as you panic that you aren't wearing enough mascara- or that you cried half of it off when you think about leaving her here. elsie chirps up "who-who the fuck is that mama-"

frank laughs so hard he almost doubles over, walking close to you guys, holding out a hand for elsie to shake. "well good to meet you too young lady-" you try and rush out an apology- but frank beats you to it as elsie gingerly reaches out to shake pathetically at his hand from your hold of her. "im frank, hi by the way, im gonna teach you some junk" she holds his hand and looks at it curiously. "you don't look like a teacher" he laughs again as you whisper into the crown of her head be nice young lady and he smiles at you. soft and warm.

his eyes are so expressive you're kind of intimidated by it. you can see into him, his kindness seeps into his face and spreads it out like a sun. you gulp as elsie speaks up again "frank-frank moms freakin' " and then laugh at her forth comings. "yeah I can tell, but its gonna be fine. right kid? you'll make the first day easy for me? so you can go home and tell your mama how great your new school is?" she looks to you, then to frank. kisses you sloppily on the cheek and mumbles "hmmm I dunno" you laugh again and look over her shoulder, placing her dutifully on the ground so you can speak to frank grown up to grown up.

hi sorry,im just. its messy. anyway- she doesn't eat milk products- that might not, not be on her file. and I packed her lunch- she'll eat half at morning-morning break. she gets scared, she-she used to bite but im teaching-teaching her not too-

frank looks at you in that same soft way he looked at elsie. but patronising doesn't really work on you. look im not fucking overbearing you whisper over, closing in closer ive just "lady, hey ive read your file. it's cool. don't worry" he leans back on his desk as he rolls his shoulders back. he looks strong. or strong enough-to work with kids. you continue just, just let her be-be nice.

its overwhelming. in more ways than one. not like jumping off a cliff or running on a train line. its like. deep water. this whole thing is deep, uncharted water. you haven't done this alone before. its been adrenaline up until this point. just pure charge from one spot to the other. figuring out where is the softest spot to land is. for her, all for her. but frank seems fine, he seems nice if anything. but its impossible to trust a stranger cause of a kind face. a good nature. you don't know the fucker- and sure, attractiveness be damned this is your daughter. its about giving her space, letting her be herself. letting her be kind. you try and convey this with a hand movement. your brain moving 50 miles a minute.

but instead he just looks at you, over your face and hair, over you body and scuffed business wear. he smiles and whispers over "if it helps, she seems pretty cool already-" and yeah. it kind of does. you watch her kick up around the mud room, hunting for something to play with. you feel yourself start up when you look at her.

frank looks at your tears and slightly worries himself, fumbles for a tissue and then rubs the back of his neck as nonchalantly as possible. it comes off pretty sweet when he mumbles over "shit-sorry, uhm. yeah she''ll be great ma'am. but maybe-comfier shoes tomorrow?"

elsie is sitting bow legged on the floor, fumbling with the buckle on her leather pumps. you nod once. looking at her again. let me just say goodbye. and he nods and stands back.

you move to kneel in front of her on the floor, un-buckling her shoes for her. be good, okay? ill be back to come get you? "mama-" and just- tell the man if you need me to come get you- "mama?" and remember eat, okay? and play nice- and no-no swearing in front of the other- "mama!" yea-yes little lamb "mama-mama they have-have a little kitchen!"

you kiss her head once, and take her into a hug so tight you feel a button on your skirt pop.

leaving is hard. you watch the other kids file into the room, elsie smiling at the new faces that walk by her. a young girl with contrasting her sits by her and asks about her dress. you look at frank and whisper over a semblance of please. he nods dutifully and then claps his hand together "morning guys!"

you leave before the other teachers can see your face fog up.

Nora at the front desk hands you a tissue when you walk into the library- nodding you toward you office. her kind face is semi-needed, so you let her softened look wash over you. you move bratney into his in office kennel. he sloshes down by your feet when you move to sit at the desk. you move to tidy up the-half installed office. organising papers into piles of to-do and not to do. the day moves swiftly- a digital call in meeting with the head office across the U.S. an inventory stock has been asked to be filed in, and a visit is scheduled for high-school students in three weeks time. it moves to 2;30 before you can even notice I need to go pick up elsie- Nora. see you tomorrow? she nods, half asleep at the libraries front desk. you rattle Bratney awake and get in the car.

when you arrive at the school- just 5 minutes early, you look anxiously for that pool of blonde curls. she probably just isn't outside yet. when the bell rings you move out of the car and wait by the front gate.

as classes file out, you look over for your daughter. you watch as she tumbles out of the red door, gripping tight to a girls hand as she laughs heartily. frank moves out slow behind her, looking over the groups of parents and baby sitters. elsie sees you and then drops her friends hand and bounds over to you.

"mama-mama look!" she crashes into your legs as you hear bratney bark from the car. her hands are covered in glitter, she's got a chunk of felt stuck in her hair, and a bandage, a bandage on her knee. elsie-elsie what happened? she looks at her knee and then you and gulps. "tripped. mama-i made a name sign for-for my desk" when did you trip elsie? "lunch- mama frankie is so nice, he-he chopped up my apple-at lunch! and he, he draws pictures!" you hold elsie's hand and storm up to frank, anger flushing your chest, frustration bubbling in your stomach.

frank? "hi ma'am, elsie is wonder-" she fell? he pulls a pretty similar face to your daughter- "she was playing with the other-other kids, she's fine. took it like a trooper-" she fell? "ma'am kids are robust" you should've called me, I- frank you- is she alright? how big is the? god on her first day- he moves to place a palm over your shoulder. grounding you.

he look at you curiously. again mirroring your daughter. maybe he's so good with kids cause he is like them. but its charming, and good to say the least. "ma'am. she's just fine. its funny- she said you would worry. anyway- she's good. she's so. she's very bright miss- really. better at spelling than half the class- i've given her a work book? if you could look over it. hey. hey she's good-she had a good day. you did-" he looks deep in your eyes, and softens his gaze. he smells good. like sweet coffee and eucalyptus. "you did good. she's an amazing girl. bit shy though, spent half the morning on my lap-"

you laugh and move a hand over his on your shoulder. his cheeks flush at the contact and then you take a step back. unprofessional. "mama-mama my new friend has-has guitar lessons can I get lessons?"

elsie smiles up at you from the ground and you force yourself to snap out of it. you nod mumbling sure-sure. turning away from frank with a nod. see you tomorrow- "bye frankie!! thank you!!! bye ! bye!"

as you step away and move to the car- you hear him speak over soft.

"bye girls!"

you try not to blush as you buckle Elsie into her car seat. tomorrow.