#but yeah the whole thing is dumb and cheesy

[pensthoughts]

car talk | v.p

summary: part two of enough—in which the weight of unspoken feelings finally breaks. contains: confessions, fluff, awkwardness pairing: van palmer x reader word count: 1,514 warnings: making out? but no real smut

the field was nearly empty now, the sky bleeding into amber and gold as the last stretch of daylight clung to the treetops. the other yellowjackets were long gone, leaving only two girls

van sat in the driver's seat of her car. she could hear birds, the faint rustle of wind, and the sound of the passenger side door clicking shut as you climbed in beside her.

you tucked your legs up in the seat, sweatshirt sleeves pulled over your hands. van tried not to stare, but it was hard not to. there was just something about you—something soft and steady that made her feel calmer just by being near you.

and god, she was always near you lately.

"coach is probably gonna make us do sprints again next week," van muttered, trying to sound casual. deflection always worked.

you smiled at her, a little teasing. "maybe if you didn't talk through the whole warm-up."

van grinned, "talking keeps morale up! i'm basically doing community service."

your laugh came easy, like it always did. warm and light. the kind of laugh that made her want to say things just to keep hearing it.

you leaned your head back against the seat, still smiling. "you always say stuff like that," you said. "like you're joking, but it ends up kinda sweet anyway."

her brain blanked for a second and she blinked, "that's...new"

"not really," you replied, turning your head toward her, "you're just not used to hearing it."

van's stomach flipped, and she looked straight ahead to keep from letting that show on her face. you didn't even realize what you did to her. or maybe you did, and you were just too nice to use it against her. either way, she was spiraling.

her hands were clammy on the steering wheel, even though she wasn't leaving any time soon. this was it, wasn't it? the moment she'd been putting off for weeks now, maybe longer.

she hesitated, fingers curling around the edge of the steering wheel. then, voice low:

"hey. can i tell you something? just—don't make it weird."

you raised your eyebrows, but your expression stayed soft. "you can tell me anything."

god, you had no idea what that did to her.

van could feel the words stacking in her throat like a jenga tower, one wrong move from collapsing.

she took a breath. "i think i've been trying not to feel something for a while now," she started. "like, pretending it's just a routine. us hanging out after practice, joking around, sitting in this car like it's no big deal. but it's not."

you didn't interrupt. you just watched her, your expression unreadable—but not closed off.

"you'll laugh at something i say, or look at me like that, and it just—" van exhaled, shoulders tight. "it undoes me. every time."

her chest was too tight. everything in her wanted to laugh it off, make a dumb joke about how cheesy she sounded, but this wasn't the kind of moment she could shrug off. this was the kind of thing that cracked a person wide open.

"van..." your voice was barely above a whisper. "what are you saying?"

she swallowed hard. "i'm saying i like you," she said, finally. "not the casual kind. not the kind i can joke my way out of."

the words were out, and her heart was hammering like she'd just sprinted across the field—and back. great. now she was gonna pass out in her own car. that'd be a great move.

you blinked at her, like the words had just hit you in the chest. "wait—seriously?"

van's brow furrowed. "yeah. why's that so hard to believe?"

"i thought you knew," you said, softer now. "or at least... guessed."

she laughed, nervous. "no. i mean, i've been trying to guess, but you're..." she shook her head, trying to find something to say that didn't make her sound completely gone for you. "i didn't want to assume. you're important to me. like, really important."

it came out too fast, too honest. but it was the truth.

you leaned forward just slightly, "why didn't you say anything before?"

van rubbed her palms against her jeans. "because I was scared. i didn't wanna screw this up. didn't wanna lose what we already had."

there was a pause, and you were still there but closer now. looking at her.

"you didn't screw anything up," you said, but instead of looking at her you watched as you started to caress her arm with your hand, slowly going up and down. which drove van even crazier.

van looked at you, searching for any trace of hesitation in your face .

"can i—?" she asked, voice barely audible

you nodded. "yeah,"

van didn’t wait. the second the word left your mouth, she was on you—hands cupping your face at first, but then sliding down, fingers curling around the back of your neck as her mouth met yours with heat. it wasn’t hesitant this time. it was like all the tension she’d been carrying snapped in one moment and poured straight into the kiss.

her other hand found your waist, tugging you closer across the console like she needed you nearer, needed more. the kiss was deep, messy in that way that made your stomach flip. her teeth grazed your bottom lip and she let out the softest, most frustrated little noise when you kissed her harder in return.

you weren’t even thinking anymore—just moving with her, hands in her hoodie, nails dragging lightly down her spine. the air in the car was suddenly too hot, her knee brushing against yours, and she was everywhere.

she finally broke away, breathing hard, eyes searching your face like she wasn’t sure if she’d gone too far—but also kind of like she hoped she had. her voice was lower now, almost rough:

“was that okay?”

you blinked at her, dazed. "van, that was..." you laughed, breathless, your fingers still tangled in her hoodie. "...very okay."

van grinned, smug now but still flushed. "yeah. cool. just checking."

but her eyes didn’t leave yours. not right away. and even though she tried to play it cool, she was buzzing—completely wrecked in the best way. her heart was thudding like she’d just run sprints, her hands still gripping your waist a little too tightly like if she let go, you might disappear.

you leaned back slightly, your smile soft and a little shy now, and van watched the way your fingers toyed with the edge of her sleeve like you weren’t sure what to do next. it killed her a little—how innocent you still looked after that. like you'd just kissed her breathless and were still the most adorable thing she'd ever seen.

“so…” you started, barely above a whisper. “what now?”

van huffed out a breath, laughing under it. “you tell me. i’ve been trying to get the courage to kiss you for, like, a month and a half. i didn’t plan past that part.”

“a month and a half?” you repeated, eyes wide. “seriously?”

“oh, yeah. i’m pathetic,” she said, half-grinning, rubbing a hand down her face. “you’d show up at practice, all cute and sweet and sparkly, and i’d just sit there pretending i didn’t wanna grab your face and make out with you in broad daylight. i deserve an oscar, honestly.”

you giggled, shaking your head. “you’re ridiculous.”

“ridiculously into you,” she said without missing a beat, and it made your whole face go warm. she felt the shift immediately—the way you curled in a little, flustered, but didn’t pull away. if anything, you leaned into her touch when she reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

you bit your lip. “okay, well… now that you have kissed me, what do we do?”

van shrugged, but her eyes were gentle now. “whatever you want. we can keep it chill. i’ll still bring you orange slices to practice. still let you pick the music in the car. still pretend i don’t secretly love when you make fun of my mixtapes.”

you gave her that look—the one that made her stomach somersault every damn time. “what if i want more?”

van paused for half a second, like her brain short-circuited. then: “yeah. yeah, i can work with that.”

she kissed you again then—quicker this time, smiling into it, like she couldn’t quite believe this was real. her fingers slipped through yours, locking them together, grounding herself with you in that small, sun-warmed car that now felt like the center of the universe.

outside, the sky had gone gold and pink and sleepy. the parking lot was empty now, shadows stretching long across the pavement. but inside the car, everything felt like it was just beginning.

“i really, really like you,” you said softly, eyes on her.

van squeezed your hand. “good. ‘cause i’m absolutely gone for you.”

and even though neither of you said the word love, it was there. in the air. in the kiss. in the way van couldn’t stop smiling the whole drive home.

[slutz4marsh]

Heyyy bbg can you make shower time headcannons of Kyle Broflovski? 💋

im gonna be so honest i did NOT know what this was asking so its a three parter

KYLE BROFLOVSKI X GN!READER: "IN THE SHOWER" (Fluff & Smut - HEADCANONS)

SOLO

Kyle is a germaphobe. He showers at minimum 3 times a day.

He has a million different products for hair care and skin. Half of the bottles in his shower are things you can’t pronounce.

His routine consists of shampoo → conditioner → wash body → rinse out conditioner. This is without even talking about the post-shower routine. (which consists of lotion and even more hair care products and a diffuser and extremely sore arms after the fact)

He’s very serious about things like cleanliness and personal grooming. Again, partly due to him being such a germaphobe.

Kinda unrelated but he will also keep his shower ABSURDLY clean. It’s not even part of his chores, he just does it.

TOGETHER (fluff)

To Kyle, shower time is a bit of a personal time. Because he’s so meticulous!!

Also, it’s sort of a time to destress and ignore the rest of the world. 

So when he lets you shower with him - it’s a testament to how much he loves and trusts you.

He’s very domestic. He massages your scalp as he washes your hair. He presses gentle kisses to your shoulders, collarbones, back - anywhere he can reach as he washes your body of all the grime and stress of the day.

He focuses all his energy on you. Taking care of you is almost a form of self care for him, in a way. It puts his mind at ease knowing that you’re well and taken care of.

SMUT

Of course. Showers tend to get a little sensual sometimes.

The water, the soap - it just makes his hands glide across your body so much easier… 

And he swears it’s an accident when his expert fingers glide over your nipples. The first time, you believe him.

Until his lips are attached to the back of your neck and his fingers flick your sensitive buds. He nips at your skin softly, gently rolling your nipples between slender fingers.

You can feel how hard he is, the evidence of his arousal pressing right against your thigh. 

One hand leaves your chest to dip between your thighs, teasingly rubbing back and forth. When he decides you’re plenty aroused, he pulls his hand away. Before you can even complain, he lightly smacks your hip.

“Put your hands against the wall, love.”

Of course you comply immediately.

He works his way inside of you, groaning the whole time. You’re leaning against the wall, panting as you get used to the feeling.

When you’re finally used to him enough for him to move, he goes crazy.

He has a hand in your hair, pulling it every few seconds. He has his other hand on your hip, guiding your movements back onto him.

Praise drops from his lips like it’s second nature. He tells you how good you are, how perfect you feel. How he’s sorry for this, he just had to feel you.

“You’re so fucking perfect- so, fucking- perfect, just for me, yeah?”

He’s panting, groaning, biting at your shoulders and neck.

By the time he cums, it’s hard and a lot all at once. You spasm around him and he frantically ruts into you, moaning against your skin.

He pulls out and his release drips down your legs.

You groan and his only response is cheesy and dumb and it makes you giggle, so he considers it a job well done.

“At least we’re in the shower, huh?”

[frostedsugarcookiehearts]

¹¹ you cut your hair, (but you used to live a blonded life)

୨ৎ

"ha, now i can call you a dumb blonde instead of a dumbass. what about that, toots, eh?" a cheesy grin spread across schlatt's face as he ruffled your hair, slinging an arm around your shoulder as if you were two guys on a baseball pitch and not dating for three months-and-counting!

you groan. "i'm serious jay, what do you think?" your face scrunches up, nose wrinkling and eyebrows furrowing. "do you think it'll look weird, with my skintone and—"

he waves a hand dismissively, and in a voice that sounds suspiciously practiced— "you look good in everything. and nothing, so you'll look great either way." (tucker taught him that one. said it worked well with the wife.)

you click your tongue to the roof of your mouth. "good answer. you've really got this whole boyfriend thing down."

"preppin' for husband, actually." he chirps, a shit-eating, expectant grin on his face.

must be a trick of the light or something, because as you guffaw, schlatt swears he sees your cheeks flush. "don't get ahead of yourself," you grumble.

"i heard head?"

you groan, burying your face in your hands as you turn an embarrasing shade of scarlett. "schlatt, you are the worst."

"you love me," a grin spreads across his face as he hears your little "...yeah." under your breath that you thought he couldn't hear.

"me too. now c'mon, sugar, get your little ass in the chair. i'll go get some bleach from the store." he wraps his arms around your waist, picking you up easily and walking to the bathroom, throwing you over his shoulder like a potato sack.

you laugh— not fake laugh or a little snort, like actually belly laugh. "what? no way am i trusting you with bleach. i'm going to book a professional appointment, like an adult." you adjust your glasses— the ones you wear around the house (but you don't like wearing them out, so you stick contacts in there when you and schlatt go out for dates.)

"oh, suree. tell me how that goes. i'm the real expert here. i know you better than some dumbass who paid an arm and a leg to do a haircut— all ya need's some scissors and to start choppin'!" he makes an exaggerated chopping-scissors motion with his hands that look suspiciously more like hedge trimmers.

you scoff. but the salons nearby were all booked for weeks! leaving your dignity in the doorway, you slinked into schlatt's room, pouting.

"what did i say, eh?" the look on his face was so smug that you swore he was hoping for this moment.

debating the lesser of two evils, you let out a long, dramatic and winded sigh. "fine, you can do it."

and then started the chaos. schlatt pulled up instructions on his phone, which he made you check to see if they looked right enough before he started following (he did NOT want to make you mad. that was a rookie mistake.)

but the second he came back from the kitchen with— "coconut oil? are we making dinner or dying my hair?"

"okay, you've got some attitude, that's what fuckin' goodhousekeeping.com said, and they're basically our bible right now, so you better sit your ass down and listen t'me." he chided, gently pushing your hair back into the sink as the warm water dampened your hair.

through trials and tribulations, eventually, you walked out of that bathroom with blonde hair that looked scarily good. the exact color you wanted, and all your friends over facetime were gushing over it and showering you in compliments, making your face red and all smiles.

but the happiest person? was schlatt. not only did he get to see you tickled pink, but the new hair color looked cute on you too.

guess it really was worth it to book out every salon in new york.

୨ৎ

divider credits @omi-resources

[lovebugism]

hi bug!! for blurbcember, how about ❝ don’t tell anyone, but, i spiked the eggnog. ❞ where shy!reader is by herself at a work holiday party, maybe she’s new or just really shy and doesn’t talk to many people, and steve/eddie goes up to her and jokes about spiking the eggnog to break the ice and flirt with her bc he has a crush on her and wants to make her laugh 🥹 totally not based on what i wish would happen to me at my work’s holiday party lmao

ah this is so cute! :D i decided to do this one for steve so i hope you like it!! — steve harrington spends the company holiday party flirting with shy!you (friends to lovers, shy!reader, fluff, 1.9k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

The quiet mouse and the personality hire walk into an office holiday party.

It’s like the start of a really bad joke.

You try to be as enthusiastic as you can about the whole thing, but spending the last half of your day socializing with coworkers who've never looked your way before now isn’t exactly thrill-inducing. Neither is having to hear “Oh, I didn’t know you actually spoke” a thousand times over.

You just don’t want the lecture about being a team player just because you have a harder time talking than most people do. Everyone knows you’d rather be at your desk, anyway. That’s what you do best — keep your head down and get your work done.

But Steve Harrington? He’s totally in his element.

He flits around the common area with a drink and a smile, making people laugh without even trying. It’s hardly fair.

You don’t know how he does it — or why he chooses to waste his charm on you. You’re hardly deserving of his dumb jokes or his pretty smile, but he’s stuck to you like glue, anyway.

He leaves your side only once. To get you another cup of eggnog because you were too scared to cut through the crowd for seconds. “Here you go,” the pretty boy croons as he hands you the plastic cup with a strong, golden hand.

You mutter a small “thanks” under your breath when you take it from him. At least, Steve thinks you do. You’re so quiet it’s hard to make the words out sometimes.

He pushes his sweater sleeves up to his elbows — a deep evergreen with a cream stripe around the chest, lined with several little Christmas trees — and leans against the wall beside you.

He towers over you in every way imaginable. It makes it hurt not to cower when he looks your way. Most of all, when he beams at you.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks suddenly, nose scrunched and honey eyes sparkling.

Your brows pinch momentarily in confusion before going lax again. “Sure?”

He leans closer to you, his warm scent engulfing you instantly — like morning coffee and woodsy cologne. It’s suffocating, in the nicest of ways, to be this close to him. 

“Don’t tell anyone, but I did actually spike the eggnog,” Steve whispers beneath the cheesy holiday music and distant chatter, quiet enough for only you to hear. 

You laugh before you mean to. 

He laughs because you are.

“I actually wouldn’t mind that,” you joke with a shy shrug.

“It’d make this whole thing a lot more tolerable, right?” he scoffs and brings his cup to his mouth. The heavy cream of the eggnog clings to his cupid’s bow before he licks it clean again.

You get quiet for a second, momentarily lost in how pretty he is. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“I think you’re the only person I know that’d rather be working than be here.”

“Well, I’m not really a—” Your mouth opens and closes like a fish until you find the words to say. That happens a lot. It’s why you find it easier not to speak sometimes. “—A social butterfly or whatever, you know?”

“I thought you were gonna say people-person.”

“That, too.”

Steve thinks for a moment, flits his eyes to the ceiling, and juts out his pretty pink lips. He crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. “Well, I don’t think that’s totally true.”

Your brows furrow. Maybe he doesn’t know you as well as you thought. “No?”

“No,” he says confidently and with a shake of his neatly styled hair. He swipes his fingers through the intentionally messy strands. Then he shrugs. “Well, I mean, maybe. But I would say you are a Steve-person, you know?”

Your face screws up. His attempts to flirt with you don’t land.

He quickly tries to explain himself. “I just mean that— you know— that you don’t let everyone know you the way you let me know you.”

He gets all shy about it, but you think he might be right. 

Steve Harrington is more than just magnetic. He’s the kind of person that draws you in and opens you like a flower. An ounce of his attention feels like being basked in sunlight. He’s as handsome as life, too. Something holy, maybe. 

It’s his divinity that draws something out of you, you think.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re different from everyone else,” you shrug instead of elaborating on the dramatic religious metaphor in your head. Your gaze falls to the untouched cup between your palms. It’s easier to look at but much less interesting than the melting honey in Steve’s eyes.

He grins all sweet even though you’re not looking at him to see it.

“You mean prettier?” he jokes.

“Yeah,” you scoff and smile before you realize it. “No one’s competing with those dimples, Harrington.”

He beams. It basks you in golden sunlight. 

Something about the way he looks at you is comforting. Nostalgic. It makes you feel safe. Makes you feel brave enough to raise a trembling hand to his scruffy jaw and poke gently at the dimple in his left cheek.

“You just make it easier to talk. I guess.”

“Well, that’s good. ‘Cause I love hearing you talk.”

You squint playfully up at him. “Is that because you’re usually the one talking all the time?”

He nods. “That’s exactly why.”

You laugh, and it sounds like stars falling over his skin. 

“It just feels easy to me, you know? Being around you and everything,” Steve shrugs to pretend like you don’t stir something sort of poetry in his chest. “I just think you’re cool. Exactly the way you are. And, you know, when you apologize for being too quiet or too complicated or whatever— it makes me wanna kick the world’s ass for making you feel that way. ‘Cause you’re, like, one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

For a second or more, you’re not totally sure what to say. And not in the way you usually are. This is different. This feels like there’s sunshine in your throat, and you can’t speak a word through it. This feels like being so choked up you could cry.

No one’s ever been this nice to you, you think. No one’s ever been so kind to you about the thing you hate most about yourself.

You swallow through the sun rays and muster a wavering smile.

“See what I mean?” You try to laugh, but the words get caught in your throat. You cough once to clear it. “I have to talk to you because no one else will say such nice things to me.”

“And that’s just a shame. ‘Cause saying nice things to you is basically my favorite hobby.”

You laugh again, even though he’s not really joking.

“Like, if I could get paid to do it, I’d be out of this shithole in a second.”

You smile up at him, so wide it makes your eyes squint and your nose scrunch. No one else could stir such a loud emotion from the quiet you are. No one else but Steve.

[babyscottoncandy]

You Belong With Me

Robin Buckley,, Stranger Things

Summary: Robin Buckley x Hyper¡Fem Reader,, Robin - the "loser" from band finds herself falling for (Y/n) - the bubbly cheerleader. Robin couldn't help but gawk at her during the football game.

TW: None

You Belong with Me by Taylor Swift

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Robin Buckley had never been interested in football games. The only reason she was here was because band kids were required to play during halftime, and the second their performance ended, she was ready to make her escape.

Or, at least, she would’ve been—if it weren’t for her.

(Y/N) (L/N), Hawkins High’s brightest, bubbliest, most unfairly pretty cheerleader.

Robin didn’t even like football, but she could not, for the life of her, look away from (Y/N) as she cheered on the sidelines. She was like a human sunbeam, bouncing and grinning, throwing her pom-poms in the air like this was the greatest night of her life. Her skirt twirled with every jump, her laughter was contagious, and Robin was sure her face was permanently stuck in a gawking expression.

The bleachers were clearing, and Robin was busy packing up her instrument when she heard someone call out—

“Robin!”

Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest.

She turned, and—oh.

(Y/N) was jogging toward her, still in her uniform, slightly flushed from the game, looking like she belonged in a dream sequence. Robin had no idea how to function.

“Hey,” (Y/N) beamed, stopping in front of her. “You guys were so good tonight! Like, seriously, I was vibing.”

Robin blinked. “Vibing?”

“Yeah! You totally killed it with that solo.” (Y/N) tilted her head, smiling. “You’re, like, secretly really cool, Buckley.”

Robin’s brain short-circuited.

Secretly cool???

Did that mean (Y/N) thought about her? Noticed her?

“I—uh—thanks,” Robin stammered, her face burning. “You, um, you were great too. Not that I was, like, watching you the whole time or anything—”

(Y/N) giggled, and Robin wanted to combust.

“You’re cute,” (Y/N) teased, giving her a playful nudge. “Anyway, I gotta go, but… I’ll see you around?”

Robin barely managed to nod before (Y/N) spun on her heel, disappearing into the crowd.

Robin exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “Holy shit.”

She was floating. Absolutely floating.

Until she saw it.

(Y/N), near the locker rooms, laughing as some stupidly handsome, broad-shouldered guy wrapped an arm around her waist. He leaned in, murmuring something against her ear, and she turned to kiss him, all soft and sweet.

Robin felt her stomach drop.

Oh.

Oh.

Of course (Y/N) had a boyfriend.

Robin forced herself to look away, shoving her hands into her pockets as she turned toward the parking lot.

“Hey,” Steve called from ahead. “You coming?”

Robin swallowed hard, pasting on the best neutral expression she could manage. “Yeah,” she said, voice hollow. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

She told herself it didn’t matter.

That it was just a dumb crush. That (Y/N) was never going to see her the way Robin saw her. That she’d get over it. She had to.

The car radio hummed softly, some cheesy pop song filling the silence between them.

(Y/N) stared out the window, the night sky blurring past, the neon lights of Hawkins’ tiny strip of shops flickering like dying fireflies.

Her boyfriend’s hand rested on her thigh, warm, familiar. Comforting.

She should be happy.

That’s what everyone always told her—You’re so lucky! He’s such a great guy! You two are perfect together! High school sweethearts—how cute!

And she believed it. Or at least, she tried to.

But tonight… tonight, she couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Robin Buckley.

The awkward, lanky band girl with sharp wit and nervous energy. The girl with messy short hair and big gazing eyes, the girl who always looked like she was thinking about a thousand things at once.

The girl who had been staring at her all night.

Robin thought she didn’t notice. But she did. She always did.

The way Robin’s eyes lingered on her during halftime, lips parted like she was seeing something she shouldn’t. The way she stumbled over her words after the game, cheeks flushed, like she was flustered.

The way she looked when she saw (Y/N) with him.

(Y/N) had seen it—just for a second, just long enough to notice how Robin’s whole face fell, how her shoulders tensed before she turned away.

And now, here she was, sitting in the car with her perfect boyfriend, his hand on her leg, his voice rambling about the game—

And all she could think about was Robin.

Her stomach twisted.

This wasn’t right.

She wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Not about a girl.

Not in Hawkins. Not in the 80s. Not when she had the picture-perfect life handed to her on a silver platter.

She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling deeply. Don’t think about her. Don’t think about her. Don’t think about her.

“Hey,” her boyfriend nudged her, pulling her out of her daze. “You okay?”

She forced a smile. “Yeah,” she lied. “Just tired.”

He smiled back, squeezing her knee before turning his attention back to the road.

(Y/N) turned toward the window again, her reflection staring back at her.

She ignored the way her heart ached.

She ignored the way her mind kept whispering—

What if?

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[ajvocals43]

Country Girl (Shake it for me)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3378

Warnings: Rushed writing (not edited), body image issues, cheesy cliches

Summary: Y/n is in love with Dean, but what happens when she decides to show him what he's missing out on?

A/N: I couldn't let Dean's birthday go by without writing a fic for him. This was done really quickly and hasn't been edited but I've had this idea for a while. I will also say, I didn't add it but if you play Whole Lotta Woman by Kelly Clarkson during the beginning of the bar scene, it hits. That, along with Country Girl by Luke Bryan are what this was based off of.

Hot. That was my only thought as I stepped out of the backseat of the dark chevy impala. I stared up at the western themed motel in the small town in the middle of seemingly nowhere. Dean was freaking out, as per usual when it came to the “Wild West”, and what better place to be for all that than Texas. It’d been a long time since I’d been to the lone star state; not since I was a teenager trading months between my parents. It hadn’t seemed as hot then. Right now, I felt like I was standing on the surface of the sun in my dress pants and blouse that I’d worn to interview families while Dean and Sam went to the Morgue. I really needed some shorts. Really, I needed the confidence to wear some shorts. 

“Is anyone else sweating balls out here?” I asked the brothers who were grabbing their things out of the trunk to head into the room. My question fell on deaf ears as they both continued their conversation inside the air conditioning. They were probably both tired of my complaining since it hasn't stopped since we hit the dry heat earlier this afternoon. I sighed, grabbing my bag, shutting Baby’s trunk and heading into the room. Sometimes we split into 2 rooms but most times there were rooms that had 3 beds, or 2 beds and a cot that we would rotate through each town. This would have been my turn to have a cot but luckily, there were 3 beds lined up against the far wall. I sighed as the air conditioning kicked on and I felt the vent above me start to blow cold air into the room. 

“Better, princess?” Dean called from where he stood at the thermostat on the wall opposite me. I nodded, feeling the cold air chill my skin from the hot summer sun outside, walking over to my bed on the left side of the room. 

“Didn't you grow up in Texas, Y/n?” Sam asked from where he sat on his laptop. “Shouldn't you be used to the heat?” 

“I alternated months. And I never came in August because no sane person comes to Texas in August, Dean!” I called over my shoulder, rifling through my clothes for something that wasn't coated in sweat. 

I heard Dean chuckling behind me as he moved about the room. “Sorry, I don't choose where monsters kill people.” 

“Please, you're just happy you get to wear a cowboy hat again.” I shot back.

“You're damn right I am!” Dean said with a smirk. “And don't forget the boots, either, sweetheart.” 

I rolled my eyes as I went to get out my laptop, unable to stop the smile that crept onto my face. Sam was right, I'd spent a lot of time in Texas growing up and I'd loved it. Times had changed though and while there were pieces I'd always love and miss, it wasn't home anymore.  But I did have to admit, seeing Dean’s excitement made me feel something that I hadn't felt in a long time. It was rare to see him like this and for a second, I just let myself enjoy that, not knowing the next time I would be able to see it. 

Yeah ok, so I'm one of the dumb girls who fell for Dean Winchester. Sue me. I'm not going to go through the whole story of how the brothers saved my life and we became besties but then I started to grow feelings for the elder brother through the endless flirty banter. It's not necessary and I don't want to waste time on it. But it didn't change the facts. I was in love with him. And he didn't even notice me. 

Could I be more of a cliche? 

 Apparently, yes. 

We had a lot of work to do, so we got to putting the stories together and starting on the research for the night. And it took forever, especially considering how tired we all were from the drive into town. We decided to have dinner and call it an early night. 

 We’d spent a couple hours researching and coming up with a plan before Dean announced that he was bored out of his mind and going out. Sam looked at me, we both knew I was going with him. 

It wasn't that I didn't enjoy going out with Dean, I relished and feared the alone time in equal measure. Because on one hand, having time alone with Dean usually meant I got to see parts of him that I don't think he lets others see very often. And that just made me all the more hopeless because it felt like what he told me in these moments connected us on an even deeper level and that I knew him better than any one night stand or past girlfriend ever could. Because I knew the now Dean. The one that had been through hell, purgatory and so much more. I could understand him because I knew he wasn't the same 26 year old hunter that those girls had thought they could fix. I was under no delusions of being able to fix Dean Winchester. He was a fully grown adult and I was not his mother. But I think what kept my unreasonable hope of ever being with him going was that I accepted him. Bad habits, snap decision making, self-sacrificing traits and all. Because he was Dean. And all those broken parts that left scars and tore apart past relationships made him the most caring, courageous and loving person I'd ever known. 

On the other hand though, going out alone with Dean sometimes meant having to deal with broody moods, childish behavior and… picking up girls. Girls who looked nothing like me. I wasn't ashamed of my size…for the most part. I could appreciate my curves most days, but there were times where I struggled not looking like the bartenders or waitresses at the establishments we stopped at. The kinds of girls Dean picked up. He rarely ever went home with girls now, but it still happened. And it was not a fun time for me to sit in the backseat so he could drop me off at the hotel with Sam like I was a kid. Or even worse, when I refused to ride and had to walk or wait for an Uber to come pick me up. Because then, Dean wouldn't leave until someone safe showed up to come get me, and while I appreciated the thought, I did not appreciate the glares from the girls or the feeling like I was a child who couldn't take care of herself. 

Regardless, because we were friends, I wanted to look out for him. I knew Sam got some anxiety when Dean would just up and leave sometimes because you never know what could be lurking in the shadows, especially in our line of work. Or at least that's what he told me. I had the stinking suspicion he just wanted me out of the room because he knew about my feelings for Dean and didn't want to monitor my moping while he was gone. Which was understandable. 

 Dean and I got into our respective sides of the car as usual. Sam normally rode up front in the passenger’s seat, but would sometimes sacrifice the leg room for me when I got car sick. This wasn’t new by any means and yet, my body’s reactions were as if this was the first time we’d been this close together. I was hyperaware of his smell, the sounds of the leather moving and adjusting underneath us, the feel of the engine under me. I rustled through his box of cassettes on the floor before landing on Bob Seger. Dean gave me a look as I switched out the Led Zeppelin that had been in earlier. I shrugged and turned up the volume as the opening notes of Rock ‘N’ Roll Never Forgets came through the speakers. Dean was still giving me a weird look so I ignored him and started singing, waiting to enjoy the feel of the rushing air cooling down the car as we pulled out onto the road. 

Surprisingly, we didn't go to a bar though. Dean pulled Baby into a parking spot in front of a western shop that couldn't have been more than a mile away from the motel. What were we doing here? With the lack of movement on my part, Dean rounded the car and opened my door for me.

 “Come on, Princess. Let's get some gear.” I just stared at him. Why were we here? “You comin?” He asked when I just stared at him in shock. 

“Uh… y-yeah.” I stuttered. I truly didn't expect this from him. I scrambled to get out of the car and follow Dean who had turned with a smile and begun to walk into the store. 

As I entered the store, I got over my shock and figured he probably wanted a hat. Or boots based on the extensive collection that lined 3 of the 4 walls in the store. I followed him for a little before I ventured off to find shorts. The sweating was starting to get uncomfortable and I couldn't last much longer in jeans and dark shirts. I wandered through the racks, attempting to find clothes in my size, of which there weren't as many as I would like. But I did find some. A few lighter material tops and shorts that seemed like they’d fit. But I got distracted (I know, terrible for a hunter) and missed Dean sneaking up behind me. 

“What about these?” I turned to find Dean with a pair of what could barely be considered shorts. And sure they were cute with all their jewels and the belt that was looped through them, but they would no doubt look like underwear on me. 

“You’re funny.” I said as I turned back to what I was looking at. 

“I do.” he agreed, “But what's wrong with these?” 

“Theyre short.” I scoffed. 

“Isnt that the point of shorts?” he asked, seemingly confused. He wasn't wrong. And on good days, they were something I might wear. 

“I see your point. I guess” I said hesitantly. 

“Great! Then let's grab some boots…” he turned and eyed a scrap of fabric that was supposed to be a shirt “and this” he picked it up “and get out of here.” I laughed and followed obediently. 

We picked up some boots because we needed to be “authentic” for some reason and left for the motel. When we got back to the room, Sam was still in the same place we’d left him. “I’d assumed you guys went to get food or something.” He said before turning his computer towards us. “But get this. I think I found what we’re looking for.” 

The rest of the hunt went pretty smoothly. A simple salt and burn, and only Sam got mildly injured from being thrown into a wall. So we decided to celebrate. Well…Dean did. I figured this time I would stay back. 

“Why didn't you go with?” Sam asked from his place at the table. 

“Didn't feel like it.” I shrugged, not looking up from my book. 

“Uh huh.” Sam said. He paused for a while before saying “Y’know, he's not going to know how you feel unless you show him.” 

“Show? Not tell?” 

“Well we all know both of you are terrible at expressing your feelings. So maybe showing would be easier.” At this, he shut his computer and turned to look at me. 

I put my book down. “I love your confidence in me Sam, but you see as clearly as I do what his type is.” I said, trying not to let my sadness show. 

“Maybe…” he drew out, “But I also know my brother.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked. 

“It means, you should go to the bar.” Sam said, as if it were that simple. Maybe it was for other girls. The ones who didn't have the history we did. 

“Im scared Sam.” I finally confessed. 

“And?” he asked. “I don't remember you ever letting a man control your life.”  

He was right. I was a total cliche but… to be honest, I loved making people realize they'd underestimated me. The bar wasn't far, close enough to walk even though Dean had taken the car. Sam’s words got me thinking. And while I was terrified of being rejected by him, I felt like I owed it to myself to have a good time, regardless of what or who Dean was doing. 

So it was time to get off my ass and stop moping. I went over to my duffel bag in the corner of the room and found the shorts and top Dean had picked out earlier that week. What better way than to make a man regret than to throw his own choices back at him. I jumped into the shower and pulled on the clothes. It was a lot more skin than I usually showed but… it'd do the trick. The shorts did wonders for my ass and the top the same for my boobs. And while I wasn't fond of my thighs spilling out the bottom with the highest inseam of a short I'd ever had, it was a pretty sexy look. As a hunter, I never wore makeup so I did my hair and was about ready to leave, when at the last minute, I changed my regular thick boots for the cowboy boots we’d gotten earlier that week. It'd been a while since I'd rocked the denim and boots look, I kind of missed it if I was honest. 

And with that, I bade Sam goodbye and walked out the door. When I walked in, it was actually pretty crowded. It must've been a dancing night because when I looked to my right, there were at least 30 people on the floor line dancing. Maybe I'd head over there. But then I spotted Dean at the bar and I made my way over to him, swaying my hips just a little so as to draw a bit of attention from those around me. Maybe they’d see what he was missing. I stopped in front of him and he seemed stunned. Probably surprised that I came out tonight when I'd been adamant about staying in the motel earlier. But then, of course, the bartender returned and started flirting with Dean.

Refusing to let that break my mood, I turned and smiled at someone on the other end of the bar. He smiled back and waved. Just then, the music changed, and I heard the beginning guitar of Luke Bryan’s Country Girl start blasting from the stage. It was one of the few newer line dances I’d kept up with. I'd gone dancing years ago with a friend of mine and she taught me it so I at least knew one modern dance. I jumped up and strutted over to the floor, my steps falling to the beat of the song. 

And wow. In my constant fight against the supernatural, I sometimes forgot how much fun simple things like dancing could be. I lost myself in the moves, getting more into it until I was in the middle of the floor, smiling and laughing with those around me. Throughout the song, I let my worries fade away and let myself embody the spirit of the lyrics. Until it came to an end. I turned around to leave and found Dean had moved from the bar to one of the smaller standing tables that rounded the dancefloor. I made my way over to him. 

“I almost forgot how much fun those are.” I panted, coming off the dance floor. 

“Yeah, I bet.” Dean answered as he slid a glass of ice water to me across the small table top. “You were a natural out there though.” 

I took a sip and let the cool water slide down my throat. “That? It's really just about getting the repetition.” 

“Nah, I'll leave that to the professionals,” he held his bottle of beer up in a salute to me. “I'm just fine with my place watching.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, looking back to the dance floor. “Who were you watching? The blonde? The redhead?” I tried for nonchalance. 

“You.” I heard him say behind me. It took a second for the word to register. 

I turned around, confused. “What?” 

“I'm always watching you. You know that.” 

Right. I really needed to stop getting my hopes up about things that were not real. “Dean, I appreciate that, but I promise, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself-”

“It's not like that and you know it.” 

“Dean, I-”  I started. 

“Baby, don't make me spell it out for you; you know I want you.” He deadpaned. 

My jaw dropped. There was no way I had just heard that right. “Huh?”

He looked at me silently, waiting for me to wrap my brain around what he was saying, like it wasn't the last thing I had expected to hear come out of his mouth. 

“You…want me?” I asked finally. “Like me, Y/n, me?”

Dean chuckled slightly. “So the teasing wasn't intentional. 

“Teasing?” I asked, bewildered. “What teasing?” 

“The dancing, the flirting, the tight clothes-” 

“Tight clothes?” I blurted. 

“Not like that.” he started. I hadn't realized the sexist connotation to those words as he’d said them. “Sweetheart, you have to have realized what you do to me when you wear those jeans, or leggins, or those deep v tops.” 

“That's because they don't make a lot of clothes that fit bodies like mine.” 

“Really?” his voice dropped. “Cause I'm pretty sure that every stitch of clothes you're wearing, right down to those boots were made specifically to fit every inch of your body perfectly.” He grabbed onto my belt buckle and pulled me, harshly against him. “And to drive me right out of my damn mind.” 

Well fuck me. 

Literally. Please. 

My eyes dropped to his lips. Inches from mine now, I could feel his body heat radiating through our clothes. He leaned down, his right hand moved from my belt up my back and into my hair, grabbing a fist full of curls and pulling gently, drawing my eyes up to his. I licked my suddenly dry lips as I watched him smirk before leaning in slowly, giving me plenty of time to back out. Fat chance of that happening. I raised up on my toes and met him halfway, sealing our lips together in the single hottest kiss I'd ever had. I'd laughed at the amount of girls that gushed over his abilities but holy hell. They were right. I held onto him as we kissed every last breath out of our lungs, only pulling away when it started to hurt. I felt his smile against my own as we caught our breath.  

This was crazy. Absolutely insane. And incredible. “Damn woman.” Dean said, his breaths matching mine. “You drive me crazy.” 

“I know the feeling.” 

“Yeah?” he asked with a smirk. 

“Yeah.” I said dreamily. But my smile sobered as I remembered the bartender. “But what about-” 

“What about what Y/n?” he asked. 

“The bartender?” I asked. He looked at me blankly. “Shes cute.” 

“And?” he asked. “Princess, have you seen yourself?” He made a show of looking me over. “You’d drive any man out of his mind. I'm just lucky you chose to do it to me.” 

“Who said this was for you?” 

His face turned damn near murderous for a moment. “Let them try it and see what happens.” With that, his hand slid down to wrap around my waist and pull me impossibly tighter to him. There would be no doubt to anyone that we were together. “You’re stuck with me now sweetheart.” 

“Sweetheart?” I asked, playfully. “Not ‘princess’?” since that seemed to be his favorite name for me as of late. 

“You like that, huh?” he asked gruffly. “Well…you're mine, princess.” And with that, he leaned down to kiss me again. 

Masterlist 

[holyblonded]

was there a reason on why sydney stayed even if azulita was the way she was? or did she just naturally gravitate towards her? idk all i know is they’re really cute they fr make me melt😭😭 also—frido, sydney, and vicky’s relationship with azulita 🔛🔝

— sydney stayed because she saw through it. all of it. the sharp tongue, the eye rolls, the way azulita pushed people away before they could even think about hurting her. syd just didn’t scare easy. didn’t flinch when azulita barked back at coaches or stormed off the pitch with clenched fists. where most would’ve said “what’s her problem?”, sydney looked at her and thought “what’s hurting?”

— maybe it wasn’t a conscious decision at first. maybe she just felt pulled to her, like some quiet instinct. like… “i know what lonely looks like.” and even if their pain wasn’t the same, syd recognized that flicker of it in azulita’s eyes and decided she wasn’t going to let her sit in it alone. not if she could help it.

— and azulita, for all her walls and bite, never actually pushed sydney away. not for real. she might’ve tested her, sure, tried to make her mad, tried to scare her off with all that fire, but syd never budged. she’d just blink at her, calm as ever, and say something dumb like “you done throwing a tantrum?” which somehow made azulita laugh even if she didn’t want to.

— they balance each other. where azulita burns hot, syd’s like cool water. not passive, just steady. patient. grounded. and sometimes, sometimes, azulita leans into her without thinking—shoulder brushes, quick glances, soft you good?’s that don’t sound like she’s asking permission. and syd just gets it.

— but syd has gotten mad in azulita’s defense. quiet fury, not loud. like the time someone made a slick comment about her attitude at training and syd clapped back with “maybe if you played like her, you’d be allowed to have an attitude too.” or when azulita’s old trauma came up in a team setting and syd’s whole vibe shifted, jaw tight, voice low as she asked “who thought it was okay to bring that up?”

— she doesn’t fight often. but when she does? it’s always for azulita. and azulita never says thank you. but she always finds a way to sit next to her after and bump their shoulders. that’s thanks enough.

— now. frido and azulita have the funniest dynamic because frido’s that cool aunt energy, like “you wanna sneak off early and grab dessert?” and azulita, who never asks for things directly, loves being around someone who makes her feel like she doesn’t have to. frido always makes space for her. no pressure, no deep talks unless azulita starts them. just “you good?” with a raised brow and that chill presence that never makes her feel small.

— they watch dumb movies together and gossip about footballers they’ve played against. frido teases her constantly and calls her “my grumpy little lion” in swedish just to see azulita glare and blush. but if azulita ever needs to blow off steam, frido’s already grabbing two bikes and saying “let’s ride until you can breathe again.”

— vicky and azulita are siblings. no other way to describe it. vicky’s the only one who can poke fun at azulita’s dramatics without catching hands. she knows exactly which buttons to push, but always with love. they bicker constantly, who stole whose socks, who ate the last snack, who left the playlist on shuffle, but it’s all surface. underneath, there’s this deep bond forged from growing up in the same chaos. from knowing each other before the rest of the world did.

— vicky’s the one who checks azulita’s hair before events. the one who drags her out of bed when she’s wallowing. the one who says “you’re not as broken as you think” when azulita spirals and can’t see herself clearly. azulita rolls her eyes, calls her cheesy, but her voice always softens after. she’ll never say it, but she’d be lost without vicky.

— so yeah. frido’s the aunt. vicky’s the sibling. syd’s the anchor. azulita’s their storm. and they’d all go to war for her, even if she pretends she doesn’t need them to.

[nicoleheichou]

i miss you, don't call me - chapter 47: that's my girl

♡ masterlist ♡ - 《 prev | next 》

synopsis: when your acting careers start to pick up you and your boyfriend zoro both decide that it's better to go your separate ways. you didn't want to, but you knew he was right. fast forward to a couple years later, when you're finally starting to heal, your friends score a deal to shoot a movie together with your ex and you're starting to think maybe you haven't really moved on.

you stand beside ace while you listen to a well known movie director drone on about the yacht party he had last week and how it inspired him to buy his third yacht. you glance over the movie director's shoulder, noticing a familiar head of moss colored hair duck out of the party and out onto the balcony. you pretend to be immersed in the director's story, but really, you were counting to 300 in your head before turning to ace.

you subtly tug on his sleeve to get his attention before leaning over to whisper in his ear. "i need to use the restroom. i'll be back in a bit. 'kay?" he nods his head before getting the attention of the director, allowing you to slip away. you make your way towards the restroom, you quickly look over your shoulder to make sure no eyes are on you before changing direction and heading towards the balcony.

you turn the corner and see your favorite person leaning with his arms crossed on the banister. you can't help but admire how handsome he looks bathed in the moonlight. "excuse me? is the space next to you taken?" he turns his head to the side and playfully rolls his eyes. "yeah, for the incredibly cheesy girl who thinks i want to roleplay for free." you chuckle and take the space beside him. "you're no fun."

"yeah, yeah. what else is new?" he says nonchalantly, before his eyes trails from your face down to your form. "you look good princess. really good." you rest your head on his shoulder and stare out into the backyard of the estate. even under the moonlight you can make out the hedge maze with a ridiculous water fountain made of gold in the center, an olympic sized pool, a tennis and basketball court, and a stable for doflamingo's horses. "thanks baby, but if anyone looks good, it's you." you hear him scoff before placing an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. "don't you start." he chastises.

you let out a sigh. "i can't even speak my truth. i can't believe i'm being silenced right now. what did i do to deserve this?" you huff, a giggle escaping your lips at the unbothered expression on his face. you hear footsteps coming towards your direction so you quickly move away from each other. you see one of the servers making their way towards you with a tray of champagne. they offer you both a glass before walking off.

"can i propose a toast?" you turn towards him, waiting for him to respond. you notice the slight nod of his head so you take it as a sign to continue. you slightly raise your glass towards him, "to us, may we always find our way back to each other, no matter where we are or what's going on in our lives, may we never stray away from each other again." you watch as he clinks his glass against yours. "i'll toast to that." a smile forms on your face as you look up at him, taking a sip of your champagne, the butterflies running amok in your stomach seeing this gorgeous man before you, standing under the moonlight and wanting you, and only you.

you watch on in complete adoration as he downs the whole glass and slams it onto the table. he looks over at you in confusion, wondering why you aren't drinking yours, before you follow his lead and down the whole thing in one go. "that's my girl." you can hear all the love he has for you in the way that he says it. placing the glass down on the table, you smile up at him before you're practically throwing yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist. "we should probably get back soon, i have a feeling that dumb chef will come looking for me. his annoy zoro alarm is probably going off right now." he mumbles into your hair as he pulls you closer to him.

as if right on cue, you hear a gasp behind you. you immediately unwrap yourselves from each other and pull away, turning to see who it could be. your heart immediately calms when you see sanji. "amazing, it's as if you summoned him z." he rolls his eyes and gently shoves you towards the doors. "that means it's your cue to go back. we've been gone too long." your eyes lock for a few seconds before you're nodding your head and making your way back into the party, smiling at sanji as you walk past the blonde male.

my bad y'all. i'm still getting used to being back. i didn't realize this post wasn't scheduled. lol.

also thank you to all your kind comments. i forgot my password for my replies account so i gotta fix that lol.

i am just so soft for them okay?! i needed them to have more alone time together lol.

and leave it to sanji to ruin the moment!! but also we love him for standing up for ace!!

as usual, let me know your thoughts!

if you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know.

taglist: @queen-aria-things @soranihimawari @youraggedybitch @captaincyberqueen @yukichan67 @roselleviennesstuff @yukimaniac @minssecret @meosq @himezoro @youmake1mistake @aixaingela @ayeputita @writing-wh0re @asterizee @redpool @hikkarins @chamomilespetal @murnsondock @firefistsimp @mimisweetz @moonlight-dreamer04 @shuujin @gespirida @diarythroughmylens @haitaniwhor3 @songbirdemerald-blog @xenop0p @alatushours @justanotherweeb666 @luffysinterlude @not-a-glad-gladiator @lufemia @frootloopscos @ink-perfect

[scoops-aboy86]

Oh, It's Gonna Be A Thing

Based on this ask and subsequent polls because I couldn't decide. Again, sorry for taking so long, anon, despite technically answering the ask back in June!

Also on ao3.

WC: 2813 | Rating: T | CW: weight gain, stuffing kink | Additional Tags: chubby steve harrington, bisexual steve harrington, eddie has a crush on steve, feeder eddie munson, getting together, steve speed runs a couple levels of sexuality crisis all at once, robin learns things against her will

He'd spent hours riffling through thrift store racks and bins with Robin to experiment with a more relaxed look, so this can't be happening. It's not fair. But hey, since when had life been fair to Steve Harrington? 

Past the year 1983, anyway. 

"No, no, no," he keeps muttering to himself, frustrated as hell and taking it out on the jean shorts he's struggling to zip up. "This is my size, it should fit! Come on!"

It's not until he reaches the point of petulantly jumping up and down a bit that he fully realizes why the jeans won't zip: the little swell of belly that pooches out between the denim flaps, trembling with each impact. 

Frowning, Steve pokes at it. He hasn't had a belly since he lost the last of his baby fat in first grade. The abs he'd had all through high school thanks to sports and a few years after thanks to monster hunting are… gone. When had he lost those? 

Jeez, the kids are always quick to tease him whenever he says anything even the slightest bit dumb or cheesy, couldn't one of them have given him a heads up about this? Those buttheads make him host pool parties all the time, they've seen him in just swim trunks often enough!

Scowling, Steve decides to switch his focus for a minute. He reaches for one of the new-old shirts, already worn soft. It doesn't have anything in particular on it, just some colorful stripes and blocks of color over a dark background. It's half over his head when he hears the front door—which he leaves unlocked most of the time, because the scariest things in Hawkins tend to come straight through the walls, and his friends all know this—open and slam. Probably Robin, she'd promised to come over before the pool party to help him pick an outfit but is running a lot later than Steve expected. 

"It's about damn time!" Steve hollers, getting the shirt down enough to see and heading for the stairs. 

"Have a cow, Harrington, jeez, I thought I was early—"

Steve freezes on the third step down, just as Eddie sees him and falls silent. 

"I," Steve says, then follows where Eddie's gaze has fallen and hastily yanks the bottom of the shirt down over his stomach. Unfortunately, it fits a little tight over his middle and isn't long enough to cover the other problem he's having. "I had a big lunch!"

He hadn't, is the thing. Not… Not any bigger than usual. Maybe it's a little more than most people eat in one sitting, but he's always had a bid appetite and a fast metabolism. 

Eddie is nodding like a bobblehead, cheeks flushing a quick pink that, thanks to his hair being up in a messy bun in concession to the heat, Steve can see reaches down his otherwise pale neck, too. "Yeah, no… Big lunch. Happens to everyone!"

Steve can't help putting his hands on his hips and raising an eyebrow at that, because Eddie is built like a bendy straw and is probably constitutionally incapable of eating himself out of being able to close his pants. 

"Where'd you get the jeans?" Eddie blurts out, apparently not even clocking Steve's skepticism. "You're not usually a dark colors guy." Stepping closer, squinting, he adds in something like disbelief, "They've got rips in them."

"Look," Steve says, trying again to pull his t-shirt down further, "I just wanted to try something new. Obviously it didn't… quite work out, size wise. Must be the brand or, or it's that it's second-hand stuff, got shrunk in the wash or something. Let's not make this a whole thing, okay?"

Again, Eddie is reduced to being a bobblehead. The more Steve watches him so this, the more it's… kind of funny. His eyes are taking up, like, approximately half of his face, and the rest is all blush. 

And, look. Steve likes attention. It's why he took so easily to popularity in high school—a little too easy, which could also probably be said of his sex life as a teenager. Now, at the ripe old age of twenty and still stuck in Hawkins behind the Family Video counter, he gets significantly less of both. Maybe he shouldn't miss it, considering getting all that had make him kind of an entitled douchebag for most of high school, but he does. 

So he smirks, lifts his hands from his hips, and does a little twirl. "See something you like, Eds? I could give you these pants, they'd probably look a lot better on you anyway."

"I, uh." Eddie swallows audibly, and that in itself is enough to clue Steve in that this isn't really about the jeans. "I guess? If you don't want them?"

Catching and holding Eddie's gaze, Steve cocks his head to one side and starts deliberately pushing the tight denim down his hips. It's unexpectedly thrilling how quick Eddie's eyes drop once he realizes what's happening, the way he swallows again and grabs a chunk of frizzy hair to pull across his face—but not in a way that makes it harder to see, no. Just enough to hide his mouth and some of the intensifying blush. 

Steve looks down at himself with new eyes. Takes in the budding love handles at his hips, that have pinked lines on them from where the pants had squeezed. Touches, as he goes, where the impossible to close zipper had left teeth indents on his skin, skimming over the hair on his thick, undeniably still powerful thighs. It's more than just a little belly fat; he's bulked up all over without even realizing, and it was blind hubris that he hadn't bothered to try anything on in the fitting room before buying. Robin would have done her best to talk him through this realization, if he'd had it then. 

Instead, he's having it now under Eddie's undeniably intent gaze. Steve knows what a look like that means, having felt it almost daily in high school since that growth spurt his freshman year. And… Eddie seems to like this sort of growth in particular, because the look coming from Eddie is absolutely new. 

Or maybe Steve just isn't very good at noticing things sometimes until they hit him on the head, like a hammer finding a nail. 

Or, maybe it's that he's taking his pants off in front of his gay best guy friend. You know. Occam shaving with his razor, or whatever he heard Dustin saying one time. 

Or whatever. Not the point. 

The point is that Steve likes it. Has always enjoyed being looked at, but something about Eddie right now is making his insides heat in a way that it hasn't in a while, what with the migraines and nightmares and other various trauma leftovers courtesy of the Upside Down. 

It's nice to have that back, and Steve isn't one to look a gift horse too closely in the mouth. 

He steps on the jeans to get them off his ankles, turning one of the legs inside out before he's free. "C'mere," he says, and Eddie actually does. It's like he's hypnotized him, and isn't that a heady thought. "Got a question for you."

Eddie audibly gulps. "Y-yeah?"

Steve puts both hands on his soft hips and grins, because this is obviously only a tiny bit about the clothes and mostly, gratifyingly, about him. "Where do you think these pants would look better: on you, or on… my bedroom floor?"

~

Robin is almost completely winded when she throws her bike down in the Harrington's yard and stumbles towards the front door, vision tunneling in on that and nothing else. She's so late, and has only herself and forgetting to set an alarm before she laid down for a nap to blame. Steve was going to debut his new look at the party tonight and she'd promised to come give her uncensored opinions. Since the dingus hadn't taken the time to try anything on before marching to the register to pay (god, to have the confidence of a straight boy), Robin has put a lot of thought into how to word those opinions gently. Not censored, but… considered. Value-neutral. Because, yeah it's just Steve and he'd let her get away with murder, probably, but she doesn't want to hurt his feelings. 

She doesn't care that he's put in weight, but he's really going to have to adjust his expectations if he wants clothes that actually fit. 

"Steve," she yells raspily as she crashes in the front door. "Late, sorry! Biked here! Very fast! Dying!" And beelines for the kitchen to gulp some water directly from of the sink faucet. Finishing with a gasp, she splashes some water on her flushed face and then abruptly realizes… there's no one here. 

Usually Steve would charge down the stairs complaining at full volume about her being late, so dramatic and bitchy, but the Harrington house is quiet. 

"Steve?" Robin skids out of the kitchen to the foyer, catching herself at the last minute and grabbing a folded umbrella from the bottom of the coat rack before advancing up the stairs. There's an icy pit of dread in her stomach and she hopes so hard that this isn't another Code Red situation that her jaw starts to ache from clenching it. At the top of the stairs she peers up and down the brightly lit hallway, brandishing her umbrella. Finding nothing out of place, she calls, "H-hey, is anyone up here?"

A loud thump comes from Steve's bedroom. It could be anything: a bird flying into the window, a shoe chucked across the room, someone leaving the bed but stumbling on the dismount, anything.

She moves closer, and a low thrum of sound resolves itself into two voices. 

"—don't have to freak out, it's only Robin."

Interesting. That's her platonic other half sounding cool as a cucumber while whoever he's got in there with him is panicking. Doesn't want to get caught in Steve's room?

Wait. Oh god, did that dingus double-book her with a hookup? Rude. She's gonna flick his ear until it's pink over this one—although at the same time she's kind of glad that he's climbing back on the horse, er, so to speak. It's been long enough that she'd started to worry, wondering if maybe all the extra snacking with seemingly no awareness for the consequences was due to loneliness and depression. 

"—course I want her to know, we tell each other everything—shirt's on inside out, by the way, C'mere—"

Well. Obviously Robin shouldn't have doubted Steve and his ability to land on his feet like a big floofy-haired cat. But what's going to happen here? Will the mystery hookup try to escape out the window, or brave the best friend test? No girls have reached such a stage in the time she and Steve have been friends, but Robin has spent enough time considering scenarios that she feels more or less prepared.

"—really sure?" another voice asks, and wait a minute. She knows that voice. "You want her to know about me?"

The following pause is long enough that Robin suspects they're making out, and holy shit. She's pretty sure that's Eddie Munson in there. Eddie and Steve might at this very moment be swapping spit. On purpose! Lowering the umbrella the closer she gets to the door, Robin distinctly hears Steve laugh and say, "No, behave now. I know you're excited because, hey, who wouldn't be? But you've gotta be good or no dessert for you later. And you're really going to want it, because I plan on—"

"Steve," Robin interupts loudly, before she can hear her best friend say something lewd that she doesn't want to have to picture. Just, they can have some secrets from each other, really. "I'm right outside your door. Is that who I think it is in there?"

"Probably," Steve calls. There's a startled squawk that she definitely recognizes as Eddie. "You can open the door, it's unlocked."

"What?! No I—I definitely remember locking that, Steve! Or you did! One of us had to have—"

Robin leans the umbrella against the wall and opens the door with a hand over her eyes, because she may be surprised but she's not stupid. She hears another loud thump and Eddie swearing before she dares to peek. 

Frankly, she was not prepared to see Steve sitting up against his headboard like a king on his throne, shirtless but lower half thankfully covered by blankets, with the remains of something chocolate smeared around his mouth. Not on his lips, though; it reminds Robin of that one time she saw Tammy Thompson before lunch and then again after with her lipstick kissed clean off by Bobby McWick. There are also smears on Steve's front though too, like he'd touched himself with messy fingers.

"Hey Robs," Steve says like none of this is unusual, as if Eddie isn't sitting on the floor with a face the color of ripe strawberries trying to hide a discarded platter that looks to be licked clean under the bed. "You've been practicing your driving, right? Because we need a new cake for the party. Think you could take my keys and pick something up from Bradley's?"

From the floor, Eddie makes a noise like a kettle venting steam. He's trying to get his boots on. "I can, I'll go—"

"Robin's got this," Steve interupts, sounding weirdly proud. As though her ability to operate a motor vehicle is Eddie's only motivation for offering. And the thing is, Steve sounds so sincere that Robin is honestly flattered for a second before the realizes, and crosses her arms. 

"I'll get a new cake," she agrees, "but at some point we are definitely going to talk about the not-so-straight thought process that led to you wolfing down the first one as some sort of bizzare boy mating ritual, capeesh? Without the graphic details, please, I'm still very definitely a lesbian."

Robin doesn't miss the way Eddie's head snaps up from his boots at that, and feels a little gratified. Either his gaydar is worse than hers or she's very sneaky; either way, she wins. 

"Aye aye, Captain Boobies," Steve shoots back with a smirk and a silly salute. He's all… lax and satisfied, ew, but maybe this is what it takes to get the bee out of his bonnet about changing up his look. If he never traps her in a conversation about the nuances of different types of fabrics again it'll be too soon. 

"Right," Robin says slowly, unimpressed. "Okay, I'm going to go. Please both of you be cleaned up and fully dressed by the time I get back."

As soon as the door closes behind her she hears Eddie burst out with a flabbergasted hiss of, "Oh my god, Steve, why did you tell her about the cake?"

"Uh, because it's Lucas' birthday and he deserves a cake?"

"Then you shouldn't have eaten it!"

"Eddie, it was your idea," Steve laughs, that annoying thing he does where you're trying to be upset and he's just kind of amused and Mr. Cool about it. Robin could sympathize… but it really does sound like Eddie walked right into this one, so she doesn't. "You hand-fed me, like, half of it."

"But—" Eddie makes another tea kettle noise. "Look, Steve, you don't get it. If you want to dip your toe in, screw around with me just to try something new, that's fine, but you can't let people find out! Maybe you had fun throwing me a bone, and yeah Robin won't judge you for the gay part, not if she's queer too—"

"Hey," Steve interrupts, so quiet Robin has to strain to hear. Really, she's slunk back to the door to stealthily press her ear to it. "That doesn't matter, because I tried it and decided I like it. That I like you, you butthead. All of it. So Robin might as well know, because I'm not dumb enough to realize something about myself and then just ignore it."

Oh, Robin realizes, so this is new new. She hadn't even had time to process maybe feeling hurt that Steve hadn't told her about liking guys, liking Eddie specifically, but. Holy crap. Leave it to her platonic with a capital P soulmate to breeze through radical self-discovery and straight to self-acceptance. 

"—do, really?" Eddie is saying. "God, Steve, you're so—"

Aaand they're making out again. Robin tiptoes away to the stairs, giving them their privacy, to find Steve's keys with a snort and an amused shake of her head. 

She still hopes never to discover the exact details of what kind of kinky shit they're apparently into together, but she's happy for them. Those dinguses deserve each other. 

Permanent tag list, ask to be added/removed:

@hotluncheddie @sofadofax @victorclays @wheneverfeasible @yesdangerpls

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@ape31

[justatypicalwizard]

Meta-isekai | K. Bakugo ✧ Act II Scene II

-`♡´- In which Bakugo gets isekaied into a shoyo romance. -`♡´-

Peak stupidity ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Act II ༊*·˚

Scene II: My two best friends MUST get together

ʚɞ Bakugo could end the day as it was, if not for the fact that it was not even 11 am and he still had a whole school day to work through.

ʚɞ After washing his face in one of the outside basins, he retreated to the gymnasium for further events. His next competition wasn’t about to start in two hours so he had to kill the time.

ʚɞ Mere seconds after he entered through the side door Denki-stupid-Dunceface grabbed his arm.

“Listen, I need your help.” He whispered.

“Let go of that arm or…”

“Shh. I have a plan for, you know, the thing we were talking about.” Denki looked left and right as if he was reporting top-secret information to Agent 007 himself.

Bakugo felt himself in a trap. It would look dumb as hell if he let it show that he had no idea what they were talking about earlier. It must have been the other Katsuki. With a grunt he breathed out an irritated “Go on.”

As if giving a kind candy, Denki’s face lit up.

“Okay, so, me and the others from the techn-club made a set up for today and the teachers let us put it up when the Sports Day event starts. We wanted to do the thing they do in America, like on the football games. We have a camera that’s connected to a, sorta, big TV and we can broadcast live!” Denki spoke like he just safely despatched Apollo into space.

Bakugo thought about the fluid, unclear timeline he found himself in. Somehow, he was unable to clearly read the year he was in. Every calendar was ripped, stained or out of date when he tried to read the year.

“A lot of people know already and are looking up to the Hug-Cam!” He squeezed his own arms in a cheesy manner. “The teachers didn’t let us call it the Kiss-Cam unfortunately.”

“What a pity.” Bakugo snarked.

“So, we need to get Kiri and Mina on the screen together. Ugh, man I just can’t stand the tension any more, like, just go out already!”

So that’s what this whole mascarade was about. Getting Kirishima and Mina into an embarrassing situation so that they, in some twisted manner, look into each other's eyes and realise they are deeply in love. How come Bakugo never watched trashy romance dramas but still knew the gist of most of the plots. Must be social media influence or something.

“I can hold onto Mina but I need someone to make sure Kiri will stand in the right place in the right time. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, leave it to me.”

ʚɞ After talking out the painfully stupid plan, Bakugo set off to look for his red haired pea-brain of a friend. The blonde had to remind himself of the benefit he would get out of making a clown of himself.

“I like it when you know what’s good for you.” The Cat emerged from under a bench and started trodding lightly after the boy. He only grunted in response, whatever it was supposed to mean. “We did talk about how helping your friends and harvesting their love energy will add to our cause. You better not fuck it up.”

He swore to god, if he could, he would kick the dumb cat. But that later. Now Kirishima, who was standing among some guys in basketball outfits. Bakugo walked beside him and asked him to follow. Kirishima, despite asking multiple times what was the matter and not getting an answer, still followed like a puppy right into the spot where they were supposed to meat with Denki.

“Dude, can you tell me?”

“Just stand here for a while.”

“Well, okay.”

It was really not that hard. Why all the conspiracy when you can simply tell people to do something.

Soon a weirdly shaped camera emerged into view. The rather big, but only, TV in the gymnasium played an image of the inside of itself, with multiple people running away from the lense of the Hug-Cam, some laughing, some actually panicking. Mina followed short after Denki who was yielding the set-up.

They came closer to Bakugo and Kiri, Denki pointing the lense towards the floor as if only testing how the image broadcasted. When Mina came forward to meet the two boys, cameraman himself betrayed and pointed the lense straight at the three. In that moment Katsuki stepped out of the image, leaving only two dumbfounded people looking at the TV, seeing their own faces in it.

“Well, looks like we’ve got the first victims.” Denki laughed making the image shake and blur his friends messed up faces.

“You weasel!” Mina turned towards him but soon she realised multiple faces were looking her way. Kiri was standing behind her laughing sheepishly and shrugging. Shortly after they gave in gracing the whole gymnasium with a sweet little hug.

“Just get together already.” Bakugo huffed, making them turn. Mina pointed a finger his way wanting to say something but he shushed her. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

None of them told him he’s wrong. Later that evening, after the school sports day Kirishima will wait for Mina by the school gate and they will take a stroll home that will ultimately lead to their first date.

Denki still smiled, although he found Bakugo’s blunt straightforwardness cranky. Well, it worked so whatever. Because of that he didn’t realise he was holding the camera tiled and it was now facing Katsuki and someone behind him.

That someone was Yaoyorozu who was stunned seeing her face on the TV and currently being pushed by her friends towards the blonde boy.

“Come on, he’s the one who won the martial arts.” One of them whispered.

When she came in close, Bakugo and Denki finally realised what was going on but another bunch of love starved idiots was looking their way.

“Nah.” Bakugo put his hands in his pockets walking past the girls. Many faces went down. “Follow me.” He threw to Denki over his shoulder.

Without much more to do the poor cameraman did as he was told. Bakugo found the Crush and without waiting for Denki to follow both his footsteps and the situation, he slinged his arm over Crushe’s shoulder.

“Look who’s on TV.” Bakugo pointed towards the screen that just started to show the image of them two. Denki finally caught up.

WIthout further ado Bakugo went on, as if nothing ever happened.

ʚɞ That day the blonde rose in the schools little universe to king of martial arts and a supposed cold heartbreak. 

Tag list: @ita606 @blueberrysoaps @bakunianadecorazon @makaroni-and-chez

[magnoliasandarson]

hoax

Tim was doing his absolute damnedest to project calmness, but he was losing his mind. Two feet away, munching on some cheesy fries, was the Red Hood—the prodigal son, the dead golden boy, his childhood hero, his Robin. The insane man who once beat him half to death, now the guy who occasionally dropped by the cave with a frankly worrying number of bullet holes. 

He’d been patrolling for an hour or so when he noticed the lack of gunshots, screams, explosions, etc., and tracked Hood to the gargoyle Dick took him to once when he was feeling sentimental. It was strange finding him without his signature explosive bucket on, with a bag of Batburger in his lap.

Tim didn’t know what to say, but he knew he needed to say something. Jason apologized for his actions weeks ago and explained that the pit had taken no dead Robins and turned it into all Robins must die, but there was still a weight between them. A clear line that said do not cross; luckily enough, Tim lived to cross those lines, “Takin’ a day off from murder and mayhem?”

Jason twisted his head to look over, his scowl somehow threatening, even with a fry hanging out of his mouth. He finished chewing, looking menacing the whole time, “Fucks it to ya, bird boy?”

Tim plopped down on the ledge; if Jason was going to shoot him, he would’ve already. He stared out at Gotham, at the empty streets and windows glowing with warmth and light. For once, the city was quiet, “Just making conversation, Hood.”

“What made you think I wanted to talk?” Jason’s tone was harsh, but it was about a five on the Jason-rage-meter, and Tim didn’t get fidgety till a seven. 

Tim kicked his feet out, idly drumming his fingers on the cement ledge, “Maybe I wanted to talk.” And in a weird way, it was true. This was Jason freakin’ Todd; the boy wonder that made Batman laugh. He oddly wanted to know everything. 

Jason sighed like he was accosted by young, costumed teens all the time, and, to be fair, he was. Stephanie had taken to showing up at his apartment at odd hours with waffles, and she had only been shot at twice, “Fine, traffic light. Whatcha wanna talk about.”

“Y’know, you wore the suit, too. ‘Least mine has pants.” Tim spoke, then immediately hunched away. Robin was a sore spot for Jason- Tim was stupid to bring it up. 

For some reason, Jason didn’t immediately pull a gun; he just cocked his head and laughed quietly. Tim straightened back up and tried to muster up a glare, but that just made Jason’s little laughs louder, “Ooh- baby bird’s got jokes,” he rolled his shoulders and offered a thing of fries from the bag, “want some fries, Tiny?”

Tim groaned; why did everyone make short jokes about him? He snatched the fries sharply in protest, “You were short too-”

“Yeah, then I took a dip in poison snot,” Jason cut him off, “Ya wanna do that too, short stack?”

Tim immediately jammed some fries in his mouth- he was incurably dumb. He’d managed to bring up Robin and the Lazarus Pit with Jason. He should hang up the cape, “You got any advice? As a former short king?” Honestly, he wished Jason would just shoot him now. There was something wrong with his brain on a fundamental level. He’d been hanging out with Bart and Kon way too much.

Jason tilted his head like he was buffering and inhaled deeply through his nose like he was trying to calm himself through sheer force of will, “Whatcha wanna know?”

Tim chewed his mouthful of potato slowly; he hadn’t thought this far ahead. What did he want to know from Jason? He could ask about crime-lording, but Jason would probably snitch to Dick, and then Bruce would lecture him for at least an hour. Oddly enough, there was only one safe topic he could ask about, and it would still likely result in him leaving with lead in his body that was not there before, “You got any, uhm, Robin-ly advice?” Lightning should strike him down.

Jason didn’t kill him, which was a plus; just lit up a cigarette and took a long drag, which was objectively hilarious, but Tim would die if he laughed, so he just ate another fry, “Robin was a different kid,” he blew out smoke rings like the cool guys in movies, and if Tim wasn’t acutely afraid of lung cancer, he’d be tempted to try, “Dickwing use’ta say, “Robin is magic, you have to be brave for the magic to work.” I used to believe that shit.”

“You don’t anymore?”

Another cool ring of cigarette smoke floated out through the sky, “I stopped believin’ when I dug my way outta my grave.”

Noted. Tim cleared his throat; this was not a conversation he was equipped for, “Oh.”

Jason snorted, “Yeah- oh,” he took another deep drag of his cigarette, making Tim’s chest twinge, “The thing is- Robin will make you believe you can be- make you think you can be a better person.”

“Then why aren’t you better?” The words left his mouth without Tim’s consent, and his whole body tensed to jump, his fingers finding his grapple gun at his waist. 

Jason gave a wry smile and stubbed his spent cigarette on the gargoyle to his right, “Because Robin isn’t magic.”

[rosypenguins]

do you have any milliot hcs?? i love them sm

🌸Omg yes I adore Milliot! Here you go!🌸

🌸They’ve binged MLP together before.

🌸Milly could be the angriest she’s ever been. Shaking and frothing at the mouth with rage Elliot puts a hand on her shoulder and IMMEDIATELY she’s just- “Hi Ellie!! <3” like her entire aggression is just gone.

🌸These two are both so obvious yet so fucking oblivious. Like Elliot would hug her, wrap his arms around her waist while she cradles his face, but the second they realize what they’re both doing they pull away all: “omg that was so embarrassing they’re gonna know I like them!!” MY GUYS DO YOU NOT REALIZE WHAT THE OTHER IS DOING??

🌸They’re going to feel SO fucking dumb when they confess, honestly. Everything’s just gonna click into place for them and they’d both be like: “…how did we not realize this sooner?”

🌸Their first kiss would probably be the most awkward thing, too. Like, they don’t really know what they’re doing and their noses smush together and then they’re just both sitting there laughing at themselves because how awkward it is. They get it eventually, though. 🎉

🌸They’re probably each other’s first relationship.

🌸Elliot would send those really cheesy ‘Good Morning’ messages. Milly stares at it all flustered before hitting him with a ‘gm’.

🌸Milly’s probably really bad with words, so she’s mostly affection through touch. (And I like to think she’d sometimes just pretend to punch Elliot or just find random ways to touch his shoulder or arm. It’s how she says I love you.

🌸Meanwhile Elliot; the Aurizzm KING, would be INSANE with words. His love language would definitely be words of affirmation, so he’s always complimenting Milly and essentially reducing her to a silent, blushing mess. (Initially he didn’t know if this was bad or not but he’s since realize it’s fine.)

🌸Elliot would also need a lot of reassurance from Milly. He’d probably overthink every little thing he does and worry about losing her. So he’ll apologize often or ask if he’s been going okay as her partner. (And probably be tackled into a hug as she tells him he’s amazing.)

🌸Meanwhile I could see Milly being a pretty jealous girlfriend. I wouldn’t be surprised if Milly also had low self-esteem due to the bullying she received and the way she assumes everyone’s trying to attack her character or ‘control’ her. Seeing Elliot close with others would probably make her a little jealous, since she doesn’t know if it’ll make him realize he wants more than her. Either way, she wouldn’t really do anything other than cling to Elliot afterwards. Just sort of hug him and not really say much.

🌸Elliot would be a really clingy boyfriend, too. Milly goes over to Hailey’s for rehearsal one night and Elliot’s just sitting there curled up on his couch like: “I miss my girlfriend…” 🥺

🌸Elliot: “Loving my gf isn’t a personality? Heh, tell that to my gf, who I LOVE.”

🌸Milly to Elliot: “Stay back, kitten. Daddy’s got this.” 💀

🌸They’d be the most wholesome relationship in TMF.

🌸Total cuddle-bugs. Both of them.

🌸They could probably both pick each other up.

🌸They’re the type of people to blush when they hold hands, even after they’ve been dating for 3 months.

🌸Oh yeah, I also like to think that Milly’s whole firey temper and tendency to punch a bitch is actually something Elliot likes? Like, the ONLY reason he stopped her from pummeling that black-haired kid in the Spin-Off was because he didn’t want her getting detention. Not because: “Oh, if we resort to violence we’re no better than them.”

🌸I feel like Elliot would have to remind Milly to actually drink water. I don’t think she’d remember otherwise.

🌸In general I think Elliot would have to remind her of a lot of things due to her tenancy to get distracted.

🌸Milly wears the suit. Elliot wears the dress. ✨

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Hi hey it's me the Frank obsessed girl hello hi there

I'm afraid I need to have seconds if it's not much of a problem

I'm starving for a little sweet Valentine's Day fluff but like a rlly rlly rlly fluffy adorable cutie patootie Valentine's Day full of love could be a day in or a day out idm

In conclusion whatever u want to write but as a Valentine's Day special 💕💕💕

Sending love and good wishes and hoping you start the new year amazingly 🖤

Valentines - Frank Iero x Drummer!Reader

Word Count: 711

A/N: Just in time ;)

I’d always considered Valentine's Day to be a dumb holiday. There was never really any point, let alone anyone to spend it with–until Frank came along. I never expected him to be the type to celebrate the holiday, often citing those generic holidays as nothing more than quick cash grabs by corporate America. We’d spent years as friends, eating at diners every Valentine’s as we toured across the country with it quickly turning into its own little tradition. He had only just asked me to be his girlfriend a few weeks before, everything between us had slowly been growing, finally reaching its crescendo. “You’re not seriously telling me you haven’t planned anything for him?” Gerard mumbled from the couch, a coke with lemon in his hand. I tilted my head back and forth, thinking it through. “I don’t know, it just seems like if we were going to do something, we would’ve planned it already. It’s tomorrow,” I sighed. Gee had already told everyone about his plans for Lindsey and was practically bursting at the seams with excitement. “You’re overthinking it,” Gerard said, shaking his head. “Just do something simple. It’s your first Valentine’s together, right? It doesn’t have to be a big production.” I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, but it feels weird. We never did anything before, and now suddenly, just because we’re together, I’m supposed to start caring about Valentine’s Day?” “You don’t have to care about the holiday,” he countered. “Just care about Frank.” I sighed. That was the problem, wasn’t it? I did care about Frank. A lot. I just wasn’t sure if he’d even want to do anything. He hadn’t mentioned it at all, and I didn’t want to be the one to force some corny Valentine’s tradition on us when we’d spent years laughing about how ridiculous the whole thing was. “Look, just do something small,” Gerard continued. “A card, maybe. Or grab takeout from that diner you guys always go to. Something that feels like you.” I nodded slowly, letting the idea settle. Maybe Gerard had a point. I didn’t need to go all out—Frank would probably hate that anyway—but acknowledging the day in some way could be nice. That night, I found myself at the corner store, staring at the rows of Valentine’s cards. They were all too much—over-the-top declarations of love, glittery hearts, cheesy poetry. None of it fit us. But just as I was about to leave, I spotted something tucked behind the others. A simple, black-and-white card that read, You’re my favorite pain in the ass. Perfect. I bought the card and grabbed some takeout from our usual spot. When I got back to the apartment, I hesitated before scrawling a note inside the card.

Frank—Happy dumb corporate holiday. You’re still my favorite part of every day. Let’s go eat some greasy diner food like we always do. Love, (yeah, I said it) Me. I sealed it up and shoved it in my jacket pocket before I could second-guess myself. The next evening, when I met Frank at the diner, he slid into the booth across from me, shaking his head with a smirk. “You know, I almost got you something for today, but then I thought, nah, she doesn’t care about this holiday.” I rolled my eyes, pulling the card from my pocket and tossing it onto the table. He blinked, surprised, before picking it up and opening it. As he read my note, a slow, warm smile spread across his face. “Damn,” he said, setting it down carefully. “Now I feel like an ass for not getting you anything.” I shrugged, taking a sip of my milkshake. “You got me dinner. That counts.” He chuckled, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Alright, but next year, I’m getting you something so obnoxiously romantic, you’re gonna hate it.” I snorted. “I look forward to it.” And just like that, we had a new Valentine’s tradition. Later that night, as we packed up after band practice, Frank caught me by the arm. “By the way, drummer girl, I think you might just be my favorite pain in the ass, too.” I laughed, twirling a drumstick between my fingers. “Better get used to it, guitarist boy.”

//

CHECK MY ACC FOR REQUEST STATUS

[strungnews]

Katsuki loves holding your hand. He loves feeling how much smaller your hands are compared to his, either little, either long, he enjoys the comfort of enveloping his own with yours.

But then he notices that you tend to wear jewelry.

Piercings, clip ons, earrings galore, it was the most subtle way to help express yourself to the public without going all out. Lord knows you wouldn’t go out wearing cheesy yet flashy merchandise, especially with Katsuki.

But what bothers him the most, are your rings.

They’re cold and irritating to his skin, an overall nuisance at it clashes against his warm hands. He hates it.

You’ve caught him fiddling with your hands and fingers, making sure to avoid your rings in the process of doing so.

And it wasn’t lost on you with the way he’d discreetly shift your rings to not touch him in times of needed affection.

So you decided to take them off for a day. Your non clip on piercings having needed its weekly spa (stored in a jar with dish-soap), and letting your fingers take a break from its metallic confines.

Katsuki notices, but doesn’t mention it. Merely enjoying the closer skin on skin contact he’s getting from you.

“Does that feel better?”

“Huh?” He shifts to face you, cuddled up in the couch, limbs practically intertwined, sown together.

Eyes focused on the tv rather than meeting his gaze, you just repeat yourself.

“What feels better?” Tsking at your ambiguity, he pulls you in closer in his hold.

“My hands. I don’t have my rings on today.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“So? Does it?”

Katsuki doesn’t respond, only tightening his grip on your hands.

“Yeah. Stupid thing’s not in m’way anymore.”

Bashful as he was, he admitted it either way.

He lifts the hand that holds yours, your fingers would’ve felt nude, if not for the fact that Katsuki practically covered the whole surface with himself.

“I’ll put a better ring on you. Maybe then holding your dumb hands wouldn’t be as cold as it is.”

“Is that a confession I hear?” You snicker slightly, chest tightening at the prospect.

He looks into you with such love, such sincerity and compassion when he kisses the inner part of your wrist.

“It’s a promise.”

★彡

Later that week, he buys promise rings. You and him aren’t ready for such commitments, not yet.

But at least this way, you and him get to feel the cool metal press against each other’s hands, now the feeling is mutual.

I cant believe the anime’s done, im coping so hard gangalang

[lyrakanefanatic]

tig couple hcs part 1: max and xander

OKAY FOR SOME REASON I RANDOMLY WANTED TO MAKE A TIG COUPLES SERIES SO HERES MY FAVS FIRST!!!

———————————————————

• they literally complete each other. xander, although he doesn’t show it, has always been a bit insecure when it comes to dating and didnt know if there was anyone right for him, until he met max 💗

• max told her parents about them dating a few months after they started, but they met like 6-7 months later. xander took it extremely seriously surprisingly, and showed up to her parents house with a suit and a bouquet of tulips (maxs favourite) (oh, and he got a smaller bundle of yellow roses for maxs mom because they represent friendship and/or family 🤭)

• xander loves isaac (max’s brother) and they get along really well

• karaoke nights are ICONIC with these two and they sing the best duets. you bet they’re eating up shallow and every hamilton song to have ever existed

• whenever they have movie nights they make the famous candy salads, and do that tiktok trend thing where they pretend that the candy salad was actually supposed to be a salad to make themselves seem healthy. here’s an example if you don’t know what i mean:

• “xander, are you ready to try this super healthy salad?”

• “you bet i am! i can’t wait to dig in— OH MY GOD!!! ITS ALL CANDY!!”

• “this is disgusting!! but… we can’t waste it.”

• “you’re right max. there are starving children! let’s try this”

• *while they’re eating* “this is NOT the healthy all greens salad we wanted xan 😪”

• “yeah, im SO disappointed.” (while they’re throwing handfuls of nerds gummy clusters onto their mouths)

• although avery and libby were the first people max told about her and xander dating, nash was the first person xander told about him and max dating.

• jk. nash found out because he walked in on him and max kissing and then xander told everyone in fear that nash would first. 💀

• they have SO. MANY. inside jokes it’s not even funny. sometimes at hawthorne family dinners, max will pick up a napkin or something and say some weird dumb statement to xander and they’ll both burst out laughing and get shot dirty looks by the laughlins and every older hawthorne that lives at hawthorne house

• max actually didn’t really like xander at first (although she found him attractive) because she was worried for avery, and when she had first got to the hawthorne house, she used to wander the halls just looking around, like the curious cat she is. one day, xander sees her wandering and pops up in front of her, and max, who was taken by surprise, pulls her fist back and punched him right in the throat. he was wheezing on the ground for 5 minutes straight. (she apologized so many times)

• at their wedding, xander mentioned this ⬆️⬆️ story in his vows with a cheesy line, like: “maxine liu, when I first met you, you took my breath away. literally. you punched me in the throat.” and made everybody there laugh (at the after party, nash made him explain the whole story)

• max snores and is a terrible sleeper, but thankfully xander falls asleep really quickly, so by the time she’s got her book away and is creating so much noise that it sounds like an elephant orchestra has taken residence in her mouth, xander’s already asleep

• they wear custom made matching hoodies. xanders says “when unsure, ask for max’s opinion” and max’s hoodie just says “max”.

• ⬆️ doesn’t really work the best when they’re not together LOL

• xander has woken up to max’s giggles at 3 am when she’s reading and the enemies become loversss 🤭🤭

• they eat enough food combined at thanksgiving dinner to make all of texas starve

• on the rare occasions that xander visits maxs house, he always takes seconds and thirds at dinner because he just loves her moms cooking so much

• when xander heard her swear for the first time, he was so taken aback that he just stared at her like this for 2 minutes straight:

——————————————————————————

OKAY THATS ALL!!!

LEMME KNOW WHAT COUPLE I SHOULD DO NEXT BECAUSE I LOVED MAKING HCS FOR THESE TWO 💗💗💗

[taylorsv3rsion13]

we never go out of style || c.f.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

tw: skinny dipping- being naked in an unsafe situation

words: 2.8k

synopsis : things were always rocky for conrad and you. after the whole break up, will everything be the same the year later? or will it all turn to shit.

Ever since that stupid kiss everything has been complicated.

I wore the puffy dress for Susannah. The gorgeous but heavy puffy white dress.

It wasn't super hot out, but it felt like it was with this thing weighing me down. I did try my hardest to sit still for Susannah though.

"Everything okay?" Susannah asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, just warm right now." I smiled.

"Just a little longer." Susannah said before looking back at the portrait and then sighing to look at me, "Don't you just love that dress."

I sighed, "Yep, I love it."

I didn't hate it, no, I just didn't love it either.

"You excited for the volleyball tournament?"

"Yeah, I can't wait! I had a lot of time during the school year with volleyball, so I think I'll do pretty good. My only worry is Belly and Steven."

"And which charity are you representing?" Susannah asked, smiling.

"Oh um, the same one you support." I said nodding, "The homeless women's shelter."

She chuckled softly, "That's sweet of you, Y/N/N. Thank you."

I nodded before messing with my dress again.

"Now sit still, I just need to add some more of those frills." Susannah said.

I began making my water, adding in electrolytes and everything.

My shirt had a "Team Y/N" name on the back and it had purple 3/4 length sleeves. I roughly put my hair in a ponytail.

"Hey, Y/N" Conrad said as he walked into the kitchen.

"Oh hey." I said, giving him a quick smile.

"What's that?" He asked.

I looked up to him. "Drugs." I said jokingly.

"Mm delicious." He responded, laughing a little. "Feeling good about the tournament?"

"Yeah, I'm ready." I said, nodding.

"You know, if you stay ready, you won't have to get ready later."

I laughed softly because of how dumb that had sounded from him. "That was, an interesting statement."

"Yeah." He said, laughing a little as well.

I continued with my water in front of me.

"Y/N" Conrad said, yet his voice dropped to seriousness.

"Mhm?" I hummed.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? Being cheesy?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I looked up at him.

He sighed, "For being a jerk the other day, and pretending like I didn't remember, when I remember everything. I've been just replaying it over and over again in my head for the last couple of days."

I shook my head, "Conrad, I just don't know what you want me to say"

"I know, Y/N. It's to late, I get it. Um..."

I looked down awkwardly, not really understanding where Conrad was trying to go with this.

"Can I take you to the ball?"

I looked up at him strangely, "What?"

"I mean, I already know all the dances. It's no problem."

The doorbell rang, "Uh, I'll-I'll think about it."

As I opened the door, Taylor stood there.

"Taylor?!" I asked in surprise.

"Y/N?!"

We both hugged each other as Belly came down.

"You guys have some catching up to do." I said as I smiled.

"Y/N, don't think I didn't hear everything!" Belly called out as I walked up the stairs.

"Wait up!" Taylor called as her and Belly followed after me into my room.

Taylor put on her shirt as she asked my multiple questions and Belly answered them how she saw it.

"He was begging." Belly said.

"He was not begging" I said.

"He should be begging." Taylor said. "And this makes things so much more exciting because you get to tell him no."

I didn't answer as I looked through my phone.

Belly turned to me. "You're going to tell him no?"

"Well, I don't know. I don't have a date for the ball-"

"Okay ask Jere. It's not like you guys didn't kiss yesterday.

"You guys kissed?!" Taylor asked.

"No! It's not like that."

"Yes, it's totally like that!" Belly laughed.

Taylor was on my team, and Cameron was on Belly's team. I was pretty happy. But Cameron and Belly were a good duo, it made me more nervous.

The games started and Taylor and I went through the process.

Also with a random hand shake we had somehow made up on the spot.

"Play sharp, play smart." We both stated as we stood in our spots.

The whistle blew and the ball was thrown. The first round we had won, luck?

The second round against this team began again as I dived to get the ball with one hand.

"Nice!" I shouted as Taylor hit it over the net neatly.

Taylor fell hard on the ground as she attempted to get the ball. I ran quickly over to her.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" I asked.

"No, it's just... ugh, my ankle."

"Here, let me help you." I said as I grabbed her arms.

"You okay, Taylor?" Jeremiah called out from the stands.

"Yeah, I just like twisted it."

Taylor turned over to Jeremiah, "Can you sub, please?" She asked, taking off her shirt and throwing it over to him.

And here, the games began again, as I stood playing next to Jeremiah.

I practiced the handshake with him and he immediately got it.

I wouldn't say he was the best at volleyball, but he wasn't the worst. Yet he was better the first couple of rounds that he did play. The more we played, the worst his game got.

I ran into his arms as he gave a good throw. "Yeah!" I shouted.

Because of that, we were able to make it to the second game.

The second game was harder. The girls took it much more seriously than the guys we played against before.

Jeremiah had missed the ball as it went under his arms.

One round, the ball didn't even go over the net and he was flung into it.

I grew a little more frustrated as each round happened. I had to win.

"Okay, don't look at me, watch the ball." I stated.

"You got it." He said as he looked at me and the ball passed right by his face.

"Jere focus!" I yelled.

The score was now 10 to 2. And I wish I could say that we were 10.

I sighed as I looked at the score board. Now 17 to 7. "Ref can we get a time out." I said as the whistle blew.

I looked over, seeing Conrad staring straight at me from the side lines.

"I'm so sorry, Jeremiah, but I have to win this, okay?"

"Yeah, I get it." he said.

"Conrad, can you sub in." I asked.

Jeremiah took off the shirt, tossing it over to Conrad.

"Where do you want me?" Conrad asked.

"The start up." I said.

"All right, let's do this." He patted a hand on my back.

I definitely made the right move. Conrad knew how important this was for me and he definitely helped. I should've picked him as my volleyball partner all along, I justt forgot how could he was.

I smiled and laughed with Conrad as the ball was just inches away from being out when he threw it over. He ran to me and hugged me, lifting me off the ground a little.

The semi finals were hard. We were going up against Cam and Belly. I did a quick handshake with Conrad before getting in the zone. It was a close match. Closer than all the rest that happened today, but Conrad and I still beat them.

It was now left to us versus Shayla and Steven.

The game went back and forth as our scores were always almost tied.

"That was it. You got it." Conrad said as we stood in the middle of the court, doing our small handshake.

I hit the ball and watched as Shayla and Steven were too far, not being able to run after it. It fell to the ground on their side.

"Oh!" Conrad exclaimed as we both started jumping up and down in excitement.

He hugged me and now fully lifted me off the floor as we celebrated our win.

Susannah had made it to the mic quicker than I anticipated as she shouted, "And the winners are Y/N L/N and Conrad Fisher!"

"Nice game." I said to Shayla and Steven as they congratulated us.

Susannah came running at us with the large trophy, giving me a hug.

"You guys were amazing." She said, "Oh, you two make such a great team. Did you ask her yet?"

"Ask me what?" I asked.

"To be your escort." Susannah said, smiling. "I told him he had to ask you, since, you know, you haven't decided yet."

"Congratulations!" Laurel said as she hugged Conrad and I.

I avoided making eye contact with Conrad. He was forced into asking me to be my escort. He didn't want to.

"Nice ankle." I said laughing as I pushed Taylor lightly into Belly.

"Hey, Y/N." I heard Nicole say from behind me.

"Oh, hi Nicole." I said.

"Um, so my dad's boat just came up from Anguilla and I was wondering if you'd like to come and have some pizza and a rosé in a few hours? It's just something fun to end the day. And you all are welcome to come." Nicole said as she motioned to Belly and Taylor besides me.

"Will Kayla be there?" Taylor asked.

"You mean Shayla, and no, she has plans with Liam and everyone." Nicole said.

"Oh yeah, we'll be there." Taylor said, giving her a smile.

"See you later, Nicole!" I said as Belly dragged me with her and Taylor.

We walked n the dock. Taylor wearing a blue cropped tank top with jean shorts and two fishtail braids, Belly wearing her hair curled, with a bright pink top and blue jean shorts, and I was wearing a black and white tube top with a pair of low waisted jean shorts.

The girls were talking about boy drama and school stuff as I walked besides them. On a large boat stood 4 girls and one in a red crew neck.

"Girls."

"What?" They both asked before their eyes lay on the large boat.

"Y/N!" Nicole yelled as she waved from on top of the boat.

"Fuck me." Taylor said as Belly said, "Oh my god."

We did many things before the sunset, but once it got dark, we started saying truths and putting a finger down each time we had done something.

Belly had most of her fingers still up, and I had most of mine as well, not budging for most of them.

"Put a finger down if you've ever made out with Jeremiah Fisher." Taylor said, smirking at me.

I rolled my eyes as I put down one of my fingers.

The girls gasped as Gigi acted as if her heart was just shot.

"Wow, I'm sorry Gigi." I laughed.

"No it's fine, take my man." She said as she laughed as well.

"It wasn't anything. I didn't even mean for it to happen, nor did I really want it."

"I always thought there was something going on with you and Conrad, I guess I had the wrong brother though." Nicole said.

I hummed a 'mhm' to her, not really knowing what to say.

"Put a finger down if you've ever gone skinny-dipping at Hopper's Cove." Nicole said.

"Is that a dare?" Taylor asked.

"Oh absolutely." Nicole responded.

Taylor, Belly, and I were the first to hop in as we all splashed each other with the cold water. Yeah, it was kind of awkward just being naked, but it also felt freeing.

"Hey! Watch out for Jellyfish, I don't want to have to pee on any of you guys." Gigi exclaimed as she ran down the dock.

"The other two girls are missing out." Taylor said as she laughed.

Nicole agreed, "Yeah I was expecting them to come as well.

"Nicole." Gigi called out.

"Yeah?" Nicole asked.

"Conrad's texting you."

"Okay, coming." Nicole said as she swam over.

"I actually like them." Taylor said from beside us, which made us laugh.

The lights of the cars shown brightly before us.

"I knew they were bitches." Taylor spat.

"What's happening." Belly asked.

"Fuck." I mumbled as I swam closer to the dock.

Taylor got to the dock before I could.

"They took everything." She said. "Except for Y/N's phone, which has a really incriminating text from Connie..."

"Wait what? What does it say?" I asked as I swam right beside Taylor.

"My mom did ask me to ask you to the ball, but that's not why I did it. I did it because I wanted to." Taylor read out.

"Oh my god." Belly and I both said in unison.

Belly and Taylor both began questioning what to do, trying to make the best out of the situation which only made me laugh.

"We can not walk home naked." Belly said.

"What about that?" I asked, pointing to a boat cover.

I could see Taylor tense up from beside me.

"No." She whined.

We began our walk home, draped in a boat covering. It was cold, and we smelled like a boat, which didn't make anything any better.

"I don't know what I'm going to do." I said. Taylor seemed to understand.

"Pick Jeremiah duh." She said from beside me.

"But, Susannah told me to give people second chances. We didn't know anything when we first dated. It's different now." I said.

"Y/N, I'll support you, I just don't want you to get hurt." Belly said from beside me.

"I still think about when Conrad and I were still dating. How safe he made me feel." I said.

"But Jeremiah is head over heels for you." Taylor said from beside me.

"Okay? What If I don't know if I like him." I stated, puffing out a sigh.

I don't know when, or how, but we had somehow gave up on walking home as we just prayed and sat on the curb.

Two bright car lights came and all of us sighed.

"God, they're going to lecture us." I mumbled.

"Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?" Jeremiah asked.

"What are you doing here." Taylor said, venom lacing her voice as she looked at Conrad.

"Nicole... she had told me um..." He motioned to the covering on us.

"I hope you told her to watch her back." Taylor said.

Conrad nodded as we took the plastic bag of our clothes.

We walked to the lights of the cars as we told them to hold the covering up as we began to redress ourselves.

"Are you going with Jeremiah or Conrad?" Belly asked me.

"I don't know. I guess, Conrad." Was all I could say.

"Crazy night." Conrad said as I hopped into the passenger seat of his car.

"Yeah, it didn't have to be though." I said, staring at him, "Quit playing these stupid games with me. I don't know if you want me or not, but I want a clear answer."

He didn't say anything has he drove.

"I'm sorry, but I've made my decision, and I'm asking Jeremiah to be my escort." I said.

Conrad's emotion didn't change much, but I could see the way his hand grew tenser on the wheel and how his other hand was stiff around the gear shift.

I didn't want the drama. And if I brought Conrad as my escort, there would be more drama than I needed.

That night, I slept in Belly's room, having a sleepover with Taylor and her.

I scrolled endlessly on my phone, not being able to fall asleep.

And of course, Conrad just had to text me.

"U up?" was all he asked.

I sighed as I got up quietly from the bed, walking out of the room without waking any of the girls up.

I walked out onto the dock, seeing Conrad's figure.

"Hey." was all he said, his voice deep and raspy.

"What the hell do you want from me? You're so fucking confusing Conrad! I can't figure out what you want or what you don't want. I don't want to deal with your stupid goddamn texts either. Everything bad happens when you text me." I yelled at him.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, I really am. I feel like I keep doing the wrong things when it's about you." He stumbled over a few of his words before digging into his pocket.

"This is yours. Uh, you don't have to keep it or anything. I just..."

I took out the moon necklace. Which wasn't even mine. It fit him. It was him. I was the sun, he was the moon. I was a hot headed girl and he knew how to calm me down.

"What?" I asked.

"I just..." He moved closer to me. "I just don't want to lose you."

Conrad's hand was touching my arm, and we were inches apart again.

"I've given you chances. I just don't know what to do anymore, Connie." I said.

He nodded.

I didn't have much to say anymore. I left him on the dock. I didn't want to deal with him.

I was the sun, and Conrad was the moon. We were two very different people.