ameilioninone

[ameilioninone]

[x]

[ameilioninone]

smth smth you and ted breaking up, after you move out he finds your old diary, but like an asshole doesn’t return it. instead he spends each night reading every entry you’ve written down, gushing over the times you wrote about him, crying when you wrote about how you felt about yourself, having to put the journal away when it gets to the week before your breakup.

smth smth him hesitantly calling you up one night, only to realize you’re out at a bar, drunk out of your mind. you don’t have a ride and beg him to come get you, to which he does.

smth smth you falling asleep in his arms, while his gaze is stuck on that damned book on his desk, thinking back to how he has made you feel before you broke up. his lips making contact with your forehead every few minutes, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear in hopes you’ll wake up and take him back.

[ameilioninone]

i’d let him hit me with that bat tbh

schlatt's big day out

[ameilioninone]

Schlatt with self worth issues and a very loving reader 🙏

Schlatt knows how love works. He knows how to make himself worthy of love. Fixing his style, telling certain jokes, acting a specific way around people. He glows with pride when he knows he's earned his love.

When you first told him you loved him, it was on a nice night out, and he accepted it easily enough. Of course you loved him then, he had dressed up and everything. Perfectly curated himself just for you.

The second time you say you love him, he's a bit confused. He had just woken up, hair a mess, definitely needing to brush his teeth. But when he opened his eyes, you were just staring at him lovingly. It...kind of made sense? He was just laying there, it's not hard to love someone who's asleep, he reasons.

The third time you tell schlatt you love him, he starts to feel anxious. You said it casually as you handed him some pain meds and water for his hangover. He hated when you saw that side of him, the side that always came crawling back to the bottle. So you loving him, even then? It didn't make sense. How could you love him like that? Did your love even mean anything, if you would just throw it around at him, careless?

With every "i love you" schlatt feels his chest coil tighter. He strains to be someone worth loving, someone worth everything you are. It all culminates into one horrible breakdown, half a bottle deep and miserable. Schlatt sobs as he asks you what he needs to do to be perfect, to be right for you.

And you, sweet and caring and oh so good, you just gold his face gently. You tell him that you love him all the time, that he's perfect no matter what. You love every version of him, because it's him.

Schlatt, he finds it difficult to believe — that anyone would love him even when he wasn't trying. It was a foreign concept. But, looking into your soft eyes, he can't help but want. Want to believe that, if only for you.

(Ignore this I'm in my longing era)

[ameilioninone]

as someone with really bad weather anxiety, i can just imagine schlatt comforting you while a bad storm goes over.

like going along with you when you decide to hide out in the bathroom “just in case”

holding you when the rain and thunder really start to pick up, whispering soothing words into your hair

like UGHHH

[ameilioninone]

Not arguing with a guy that has big beautiful brown eyes. Whatever you say, gorgeous

[ameilioninone]

GOD HE LOOKS SO GOOD IN THE NEW VIDEO😫🙏 WANNA RIDE HIM SO BAD HOLY SHJT

I just KNOW he would bend u over those nice chairs in the library and absolutely rail u omg

[ameilioninone]

my 21st is coming up soon and it’s got me thinking about celebrating with schlatt

feeding me drinks all night until he has to hold me to keep me upright and taking me home

“c’mon toots, now we’ve really gotta celebrate…”

like AAAAAA

[ameilioninone]

thinking abt how big guy would react to u gaining a little happy weight when ur in a relationship with him…

insecure? he’s rubbing that tummy and telling you how beautiful you are.

constantly talking about how happy he is that you’re comfortable enough to eat normally around him.

want to lose weight? he’ll make sure you’re not doing it to please him (let’s be real, he loves some hips and thighs) and helps you prep healthy meals and stay on a gym schedule.

GAHHHHH

[ameilioninone]

—- first meetings. ft schlatt & ted nivison.

summary: whether it's because you accidentally downloaded malware onto your new computer, or because your assistance is needed in the cinematography class— you meet two cute students throughout the process, and you are not complaining.

— tags: college!au, comp sci student!schlatt, cinema student! ted, art student!reader (in ted's section anyways, it's left vague in schlatt's), headcanons, meet-cute, twink schlatt & twink ted.

authors note: hi! sorry writing has been slow, we should be back now though!! i'm excited to delve into college au because i feel like there's a lot to explore with it. this is just the first meeting, but i'm already working on some general hc's! send me some asks about either of them and i'll answer them/elaborate for you!! ♡ ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

—- schlatt - computer science student .ᐟ

— the first time you meet schlatt is when you're having tech troubles with your new computer. all solutions online failed to work, and when an acquaintance told you about the school's IT support group, you decided that'd be the best bet. — you weren't really the type to go out and socialise, you'd rather stay indoors and try to do things yourself. but this was a new computer, so you broke your rule this one time. — upon entering, you were met with the sight of a bunch of other students. some were working there, some were there for help. the fact others were there helped put your mind at ease a little. — you looked around to try and find someone who was free. you panicked when you skimmed round and saw nobody available, but after you took your time looking, your eyes landed on someone. — he had a lanky figure, face tucked into his computer, as if he were trying to.. hide? you were confused considering this was all volunteer work, but you really didn't care. you just wanted your computer fixed.

— you waddled over to his booth, holding your laptop at your chest. he was still in the same position as before, so you coughed to grab his attention. — he moved back slightly, peering up at you with his brown eyes, which were a little wide. "oh— oh, hi. i wasn't expecting anyone to see me," he muttered, which caused a small giggle to erupt from you. — "sorry, if i wasn't so worried i probably wouldn't have even saw you," you smiled softly at him, before sitting on the seat in front of him. — "ah, well. this is my job, so i can't complain. how can i help you?" he asked, hands closed together as he returned your smile, and you felt your heart skip a beat. — you explained the situation to him, how you didn't know why files were randomly deleting, or why these pop-up's were appearing, and that you'd already tried everything google and reddit threw at you. — he let's out a hum, and asks to have access to your computer. after putting in your user and password, you turn it round to him so he can inspect it. — "jesus christ— there's like.. a hundred of these things!" the boy exclaims as his wide-eyed expression returns, before he tries shutting them down one by one. — he looks through your files, trying to spot anything suspicious from first glance. it's mainly a bunch of images, with a few .exe files from apps you downloaded. — "for fuck sake, how many times is this gonna—" he starts muttering under his breath about the constant pop-up's, but suddenly a siren starts playing from the computer, causing you both to jump. — he immediately holds down the 'volume down' button, looking around to make sure too many people didn't hear. you both got a few looks, but thankfully nothing major. — when he looks back to the computer, there's a neon red pop-up that's taken over the screen, announcing "YOU HAVE 7348 VIRUSES", which causes him to burst into laughter. — "what a stupid fuckin' pop-up," he grumbles, still smirking. he turns his attention back to you though, raising a brow. "you said this is a brand new computer, right? you sure you didn't buy this off a fuckin' scammer?" — you shake your head vigorously at him, "no! i got it from that one store 10 minutes from here, the one everyone says to go to," you explain, eyes closed as you try to think of the name. you didn't know why he made you feel so nervous, but you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of him. at least, not anymore than you already have.— "hm, right. and everything you've installed has been legit? straight from the app store or the site's download section?" he double-checks, and you flash him a nervous smile.

— "weeeelllll," you drag out, wincing when he deadpans at you. "i wasn't paying for the adobe software! that shit is a scam and you of all people should know that," you huff, folding your arms and pouting. — he sighs but laughs lightly, running his hand through his hair. "well there's the root of the issue. downloading a cracked copy that isn't even safe," he murmurs, but assures you he can fix it. " — you scoot your chair round a little so you can see what the boy does, in case you ever get yourself into a situation like this again.. even though you know damn well you'd come back here, anyways. — you watch as he goes full IT mode— deep cleaning your system, manually removing the malware, while muttering how he "doesn't understand how some people have no fuckin' tech literacy," as you roll your eyes. — "i do, thank you very much! adobe apps are just.. harder to pirate," you murmur quietly, looking off to the side. he just laughs at your silent admission, continuing to clean up your computer. — it doesn't go unnoticed how much he keeps looking at you while he's fixing up the computer, and you're pretty sure your reddening cheeks haven't gone unnoticed by him, either. — it took some time, but eventually he slides the computer to you as he stretches back in his chair, arms rising in the air as he cracks his bones. "alright, virus bait. that's your computer all fixed," he grins, and you ignore the nickname as your eyes land on your computer. — you look properly at the screen and wow, it's so nice to look at it without being bombarded with pop-ups or scam messages, and it's even nicer to hear your computer isn't about to take off into space any minute. — you jump off the chair with joy, clapping your hands together excitedly as you shut the screen over and hug the laptop to your chest. "god, this feels great! thank you.." you start, before trailing off when you realise you don't even know his name. — you turn to see him already smiling up at you, as he's sat back up in his normal position with his arms crossed. "johnathan," he confirms, and you smile at him back with a small nod. — "thank you, jonathan!" you repeat with his name this time, before you sigh in relief. "i really owe you one, seriously," you admit, pondering as you think of how you can return the favour. — you're interrupted however as your phone buzzes repeatedly, reminding you that you had a zoom call to catch in five minutes. you let out a small "fuck!" before pushing the chair back to it's original spot, and running round the table to the exit. — "sorry— i gotta go! i'll make it up to you sometime— bye johnathan!" you exclaim as you run out the room. — he smiles softly as you run, muttering a small "see ya, virus bait," under his breath, watching your figure until you're out of sight before shaking his head and putting his focus back onto his own computer.

—- ted - cinematography student .ᐟ

— it's too late to be in the art campus building— it's 12am, to be precise. you would never come here this late, ever. you're only here because you were only just told you needed an extra A3 painting for your assignment that was due in a few days.

— so that's why you're here, and weirdly.. you're not alone? there was another guy here, slumped over his computer as he edited what you could only assume to be a short-film.

— the atmosphere was.. fine. it wasn't cozy, but it wasn't awkward. the radio played lowly in the background, but the noise mainly came from the other guy's computer, constantly replaying the same scene over and over.

— you had a perfect view of the computer, your easel was a couple desks behind him, so you could paint and watch whatever he was working on, if you so desired. — and you did, and it was fun.. the first 20 times you had seen it. the other 35? not so much. — you had tried focusing more on your own painting, but were quickly drawn back to the previous spot when you heard a loud groan erupt from the guy's throat. — "if i have to watch this scene one more fucking time, you're going out the window," he muttered angrily, jabbing a finger at the computer screen, as if it was at fault. — you peered at the content on the screen and.. yikes, you didn't realise just how bad the colour grading was until now. you placed your brush down, before taking a step forward. — "..your colour grading is awful," you tell him, watching as he throws his arm around the back of his chair while looking at you with a face of disbelief. maybe you could've worded it nicer.. — "oh, i'm sorry da vinci, i didn't realise— wait, you know colour grading?" he started off with a snarky comment, but when the words clicked he suddenly got curious. — you give him a curt nod before moving closer, grabbing a chair from the desk next to him and pulling it over. "the highlights are blown out, your shadows are crushed and your white balance is all over the place," you tell him, turning to see his jaw dropping. how the fuck did you pick apart the flaws in an instant? — "holy shit," he murmurs in disbelief, running a hand up and down his face. "am i that tired i didn't realise how shit it was?" — you laugh at his words, shaking your head. "no, no. i get it. may i?" you ask, gesturing towards the computer. he nods in return, hand waving in the air. "as you please." — he watches, still a little sceptical at first, but then you tweak the levels and.. the scene actually looks good. — "christ," he whispers, leaning in to watch the scene once more, "that's way better." — "duh," you grin, and he shoots you a playful glare in return. — not long after he buys you something from the vending machine down the hall, as a repayment for you helping him out. — you both continue to work on your respective projects, while occasionally throwing sarcastic comments at each other. — "why are you glaring at your painting like it owes you money?" "because it does," "fair." — you both decide to call it a night when it hits 3am, because you don't dwant to be here all night, not after you already spend the full day here anyways. — "i don't trust you walking back to your dorm alone, especially with the reports lately," he says as he grabs his rucksack, throwing it over his shoulder. — "oh? and i should trust you?" "im 6'4, sweetheart. im the threat's threat," he winks, and you hate that it makes you giggle. — you let him walk you to your dorm, both of you making small talk n the way, but ultimately you were both too tired to keep a real chat going. — when you get to your dorm, you turn round and flash him a small smile. "thank you for walking me back.." you begin to thank him, but falter when you realise you didn't catch his name. — "really? you didn't see my name plastered over the film?" he laughs, and you join him. "names ted, though," he lets you know, and you nod and give him your name. — "it's no problem, and thank you for y'know.. fixing my shitty colour grading," he smiles, and you nod in return. — "yeah, well, da vinci has a few tricks," you tease, bringing back the nickname from earlier that he called you after he offended him, and you didn't miss how his face lit up when he realised. — you both wave each other off and when you close the door behind you, you immediately fall against it. why the fuck were you giggling about some random cinema student? — ted felt the same though, giddy that he had someone like you helping him fix his shitty colour grading. maybe next time he'll get you in the film.

© laambfuzz 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify or translate my work onto any platforms, and do not feed my content to ai.

[ameilioninone]

wip :3

[ameilioninone]

My brain short circuited I think.........

[ameilioninone]

Emetophobia Comfort

Emetophobic reader x Schlatt

Fem/gn reader

Self insert bc I've been struggling with my phobia lately. I may have been a little too parasocial with this one but it's helping me cope, what can I say?

Content Warning: If you're sensitive to words and descriptions related to emetophobia (v*mit, *tu, *n), then please skip this fic!

The dull ache in your stomach was pretty normal - an everyday occurrence, really. Typically you could just ignore it and drink some water with a couple tums, but you didn't have any meds on you tonight. The pain slowly turned into nausea, making you anxious and -shocker- more nauseous because of it. You brushed it off as just your nerves getting in the way, blaming it on the heavy dinner you had at that fancy restaurant with Schlatt. You tried to hide your aches and pains from him on the car ride home, convincing yourself that a movie and cuddles with your boyfriend would do just the trick.

At home, Schlatt kept glancing from the TV screen to you on the sofa, pressing a gentle hand into your thigh as your face scrunched up from pain in your belly. “You alright, toots?” He asked gently, his warm breath fanning over your face as his hand ran along your pajama pants. “Your stomach actin’ up again?”

You slowly nodded and swallowed. He really read you like a book, didn't he? Sometimes you hated this about him, but tonight, you were grateful for it. You felt like your throat was closing up at your stomach tightening. He continued his slow caresses on your leg, leaning into your side and kissing the top of your head.

It was just past midnight now. You had slogged through the entire movie and got ready for bed, faking your recovery to your boyfriend just before he had fallen asleep.

And now you were stuck in agonizing hell.

There was nothing you could do except anticipate the inevitable. The nausea never let up, even after having taken medicine and drank what seemed like gallons of water. The violent flips and turns your stomach performed made your heart race to no end. You clung your knees to your chest, gripping your white knuckles as you rocked back and forth on the cold tile floor. You pleaded to every god in the universe for tonight not to be the night, but you knew that it was gonna be different this time.

Like you knew you were going to throw up.

You sob and shake, letting out silent gasps while trying not to wake your boyfriend a few feet away from you. As much as you'd love to crawl back under the covers with Schlatt and forget all about this, your body just wouldn't allow it. The door to your bedroom was still wide open in your haste to get to the bathroom. The first wave of nausea had sent you mentally spiralling, sending you into hyperventilation and making you so nervous to even just lie awake in bed. So you rushed to the bathroom in an attempt to make yourself feel better, just in case you were actually going to vomit.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you battle with your intrusive thoughts. This was it. What if you die? No, don't be ridiculous. You'll be fine. But right now, it doesn't feel like it. You were in survival mode. Everything in your body felt like it was shutting down. But unfortunately, your brain was working on overdrive, running at a million miles per hour with all these awful thoughts. What if Schlatt is mad at you? Will he find you disgusting? Will he hate you forever? What if you miss the toilet and he’ll have have to clean up after you? This could fucking ruin you. It surely won't be the end of the world, you knew that. But why does it feel like it?

Your insides practically burned now, making you cry even harder. Everything started to spin and blur, so much so that you barely even noticed when Schlatt got out of bed and joined you on the bathroom floor. He sat beside you and pressed a cool hand on your lower back, skirting it gently under your shirt. You flinch, his touch making your head spin widely.

“Hey, hey, doll.” He coos groggily, lowering his voice to a whisper. “It's just me. You're okay.” he rubs his eye with his other hand, yawning. His hair stood up on his head in messy tufts.

He knows not to raise his voice when you're like this. The last thing he wants is to make you feel worse.

“Jay, I don't feel good.” You whimper, clutching your stomach and ripping your eyes away from the wall to his concerned face. He leans his head down and kisses your forehead briefly before searching your eyes. “I know, sweetheart.” He mumbles.” But you'll get through this, just like all those other times.”

You shake your head, completely unconvinced at his words.

“It's not like those other times. I feel like I’m gonna be sick.” you sob, wiping a trembling hand over your cheeks. “What do I do?”

“Well, if you do get sick, then it'll be over before you know it.” he reassures you calmly.

“How do you know?” you question, desperation seeping through your voice.

“Toots. I'm a fuckin’ alcoholic online.” he smirks slightly, trying to joke as he laughs under his breath.

“I can handle a few sick moments. And you can too. I know you can.”

You cry-laugh at his poor attempt of a joke, and smile through your sobs.

“That's my girl.” He praises, kissing your forehead again and giggling into your hair. “You’ll be alright.” He adds, curling his arm around your shoulder and rubbing your arm.

You relax into him, peeling your hands away from your knees and resting them on his chest. He brings you closer, breathing in the scent of your hair. His hands come up to cup yours on his chest, rubbing them slowly.

Suddenly, you feel a piercing pain shoot through the pit of your stomach and you sit up abruptly with wide eyes. Your mouth gathers saliva and your senses go numb. Twisting your body towards the toilet, you empty your stomach into it. Schlatt quickly steps into action and leans over you to hold your hair back.

After you're done, you lean back against the sink cabinet, panting and wiping your mouth in shock.

Woah. That was intense.

Your boyfriend quickly flushes the toilet and sets the lid down. He pats your head soothingly.

“You done?” He asks, studying your face carefully and pushing a few loose strands of hair out of your face.

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Yeah, I think so. I feel a little better.” You laugh softly, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the wood grain, taking in a couple deep breaths.

You did it.

You actually threw up.

And you didn't die.

Schlatt's hand sifts through your hair softly, and he sits down in front of you now, spreading his long legs out between your curled up frame.

“Mmmm.” He hums, smiling at the way your shoulders ease up slightly. “I'm so proud of you, toots. You did so well.”

He sits with you for a couple of minutes, just breathing with you and kneading your hands. His eyelids droop sleepily and he tries to sit up straight to keep himself awake, keeping his tired gaze on you. You smile at him as he squeezes your hands in sitting rhythms.

Finally, after observing your relaxed state, Schlatt rubs his fingers through his chops sleepily.

“M’kay, doll. Ready to go back to bed?” He asks, a hint of hope in his voice as he inhales and holds onto your pinky.

You nod and he stands up, helping you up off the floor. He guides you gently to the sink.

“Brush your teeth.” He orders. “As pretty as that mouth is, I don’t wanna be kissin’ that pukey mouth of yours.” You laugh and pick up your toothbrush as he lazily runs a hand along the small of your back. He kisses your neck slowly, smiling against your skin. You giggle and set your toothbrush down.

He didn't leave when you threw up, or make some mean comment about how disgusting you were.

You chew your bottom lip, debating on asking him the question that's been on your mind.

“You don't find me gross, baby? Or ” You ask, your voice trembling.

He shakes his head and kisses your neck some more.

“Fuck no, angel. Why would I? It's just vomit. No big deal.” He states with a smile, eyes squinting at you. “It's normal. I still love you, anyways, whether you're sick or not. You know that, right?” He gazes softly at your eyes in the mirror, resting his chin on your temple. You blush and feel his mutton chops, the roughness of his stubble comforting you deeply. He sighs and kisses your palm, murmuring an “I love you” into it.

“Love you too.” You whisper back with equal admiration, kissing his forehead. “Thank you.”

He grumbles with a smirk, leading you back to the comfy bed sheets and tucking you in.

For the first time in hours, you felt a world better than you did before. As much as it sucked, you faced your fear and made it through. And through it all, Schlatt was by your side, loving you no matter what.

As you drifted off to sleep, you're reminded that nothing is as scary as your mind made it out to be, and that you have a loving partner to help you get through anything.

[ameilioninone]

My brain short circuited I think.........

[ameilioninone]

Can you do Schlatt imagine or hcs if his gf/so got in a car crash? Got in a minor one today and am looking for some big guy comfort

⁷ knee deep in the passenger seat

praying for you rose. <3

୨ৎ

your friends thought schlatt's weird rule about always driving was a toxic masculinity thing, but it was a little deeper than that.

schlatt wasn't a frightful man. he wasn't afraid of spiders or the dark or anything of the sort, no sir. he just had one fear, and one fear only – that one day, you wouldn't come home. you said that was irrational, that you'd always come back to him, so there was nothing to worry about.

but he worried.

he never worried more, though, than a dark thursday night. the roads were covered with sleet from the snow the night before, and his texts had gone mysteriously unanswered. and it made him insane. for such a collected young man, schlatt was flipping his fucking lid. texting you incessantly– your friends, your office, places you could've been.

but he got a call from an unknown number, the local hospital. they said you'd been in a "minor" car accident, and he yelled at them. he barked at them, "the fuck's a minor car accident?! a car fuckin' hit 'er, no? so get your asses off your chairs and make sure she's not hurt– or or has a concussion, or–" he stammered, trying to muster up any terminology he remembered from those times you forced him to watch grey's anatomy with you.

the hospital almost had to call security because he was so distraught, yelling and screaming for you, even though the doctors insisted you were fine with almost no injuries, besides the fact you were a little startled.

the minute he saw you wobbling down the linoleum hallways in your little hospital gown getup, he visibly relaxed. he drowned out the front desk lady insisting she was going to call the authorities and focused just on you as he wrapped you in such a tight hug it was more likely to break your bones than the impact of that other car was. "oh, you're alive. fuck, i tore down this whole place looking for your silly self. you alright? breathin', i see. looking as cute as ever, toots, yesirre."

you smiled. "i'm fine. i'm a trooper."

"that you are," he grinned, kissing your face all over. "my rose."

୨ৎ

dividers credit: @issysh3ll

[ameilioninone]

god he’s beautiful

this will be in our wedding montage

[ameilioninone]