#he’s got eight hearts 💕

[floatyflowers]

what kind of yandere would caesar augustus be? can you give highlights of his attitude, personality, and behaviour as a yandere to reader who has isekaied in his time as a roman emperor? thanks so much. Btw i enjoyed reading emperor geta and emperor caracella 💕💝

You kissed the picture of a statue of Augustus Caesar in history textbook before drawing hearts over the pictures in a playful manner.

Which led to you ending up in Ancient Rome, in Augustus Caesar's reign.

And because of your strange clothes and frightened attitude, you were dragged to the emperor, accused of being an intruder.

The emperor spoke to you in Latin while you only stared at him in fear and confusion.

From your expressions and reactions, Octavian realized that you are harmless.

He ordered to have your things taken away, and for you to be taken and clothed in Roman clothes, as he decided to have you under his care until he understands who exactly are you.

No one has sparked his curiosity like you.

In less than two months you were taught Latin.

But through those two months, you also managed to build many friendships.

Even with the young daughter of the emperor, Julia, the eight-years-old child adores you.

But now, you are forced to stand in front of Augustus and speak to him in the language you were taught.

"I'm not from here." you admit.

"I have noticed the first time from your improper clothing, I wish to know everything about you."

"Even if what I'm going to tell you is considered madness?"

With a nod from him, you begin telling him everything about yourself, and how you found yourself in this timeline.

This was a huge mistake on your part, as this made the Roman emperor obsessed with you and knowing about the future.

Everything you needed, was granted.

Octavian would spend long hours with you in his chambers, discussing many different matters.

You have so much knowledge, something he respects in a person.

When in reality, the knowledge you got is only from three sources, books, school, and YouTube.

However, sometimes he feels like you act like a child who needs to be corrected.

"Do you have a husband in your timeline?"

One day while having a walk in the gardens Augustus inquires about your marital situation.

"Yes." you lie, feeling uncomfortable under his sharp gaze.

You are not naive to the way he is interested to you and the hints he gives here and there.

But you would rather have boundaries.

"I suppose he must miss you dearly, he is unfortunate in many ways."

"Unfortunate, how so?" you ask, curiosity peeking.

"His wife is going to marry the emperor of Rome."

Your heart beats raises in fear, as you try to move away, but Caesar grabs your left wrist to stop you.

"I'm married, this would be considered infidelity." you say with a disgusted tone at how he still chooses to pursue you.

"In this timeline, you are not married as your husband does simply not exist yet."

[kneazle]

More of the tsunami fic! Probably the weakest part (in my opinion) but I believe we're coming to a close with this soon maybe one more part? 😊 again thank you to everyone whose shown this love, I appreciate it more than you can imagine 💕

Tags are under the cut but let me know if you want to be removed! (hopefully I didn't miss any of you that wanted to be added!)

part 1 • part 2

Tommy breathed heavily, cold seeping into his bones while his skin broke out in a sweat. It was an odd feeling, and one that didn't bode well for him. 

He didn't know how long passed since he lifted them onto the platform. His leg throbbed when there wasn't pain shooting up it, but he could do no more than he already had at the moment, having used his plaid button-up to stop himself from bleeding out like he was. There's no telling if it would hold, but it was something until he could get Jee to safety.

Tommy glanced down at where she was curled into his side and his heart clenched.

He looked up to the sky and closed his eyes for a brief moment. 

Please just let her be okay, please

The air was tense in the engine on the way to the pier. Worried glances were thrown his and Chimney's way but Buck avoided meeting those gazes.

They were on their way back from a quick call when it came in about the tsunami, everyone holding their breaths at the thought of another one. Buck felt their eyes on him and had grinned sadly, a weak joke about at least he wasn't there this time but not fully meaning it as another tsunami meant people hurt, lives lost. 

Until Chimney made a strangled noise from his seat. Choking out that Jee was at the pier with Tommy. That Tommy volunteered to watch her when Maddie got called in for a shift and their normal babysitter couldn't, and was planning on taking her there.

Buck's chest felt empty and constricting at the same time as Chimney spoke on the phone with Maddie for a few seconds. His worry burrowing inside, steadily growing at the sound of their voices. He didn't say a word but shared a look with Chim– yet what right did he have when this was their child? Bile rose in his throat that he pushed down, hands clenching. Jee and Tommy were god knows where and in what state, but Buck would do anything to trade places with them at this moment.

"Uncle Tommy Uncle Tommy!"

Tommy's eyes shot open, blinking rapidly at Jee's shouting and shoves. Fuck. He internally cursed at himself for not staying focused, having felt drowsy– no doubt an infection but there was no time to think more on it.

"Look!" 

He sucked in a breath. A boy of about seven or eight was coming their way yelling and crying for help, holding onto a board that was barely keeping him afloat. Tommy saw this little boy with soaked curls, wet black glasses that slid down his nose– and Tommy turned to Jee, "Stay right there Jee don't move!" He told her quickly.

Tommy jumped back into the water and grunted against the pain as he swam out enough, grabbing for the boy as soon as he was in reach. 

He didn't hesitate to cling to Tommy who held the young boy to him. "I got you buddy, I got you, hang on alright?"

Relief slammed into him so hard when they were all on the platform and Jee didn't move an inch, that Tommy let a tear escape mixing with the wetness of the water. Fear clawed its way in his chest.

"Thank you!" The boy coughed out, body giving a big shiver as his lower lip trembled.

"What's your name kid?" Tommy asked softly. "I'm Tommy and this is my best buddy Jee."

He rubbed at his nose, wiping water from his eyes. "D-Danny."

"Alright Danny, can I know who you came here with?" 

"My b-big brother, he- he got pulled away." Danny whimpered, and Tommy could have cried the way Jee scooted closer, her little hand coming to hold Danny's slightly bigger one.

Tommy wrapped two terrified children in his hold, trying to stay awake and focused on them and not the feeling of his body fighting for sleep with the piercing throbbing pain spreading through him.

Fear wasn't new to him– but this was an entirely new kind of fear he realized.

@not-as-straight-as-i-appear @todd-harper @klutzygirl @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @bidisasterevankinard @comfortingevanbuckley @laundryandtaxesworld @tommykinard @sherlockismarvelous9-1-1 @mmso-notlikethat @iphyslitterator @racerchix21 @a-mel0n @station18908 @beckym2001 @bi-bi-buckleys @loulou-land @tommykinard6 @beanarie @fuselsstuff @chococara25 @owlgirl495 @thestrangestthlng @buckleyskinards @nznaturalkiwi @daughterofscotland @livelaughlou @hyperfocusthusly @teabroomsandbooks @thecarrott @tistai

[roosterforme]

Liam and Asher 💕/

Precious 🩷

The way Jake goes all out for 'boys day' every chance he gets. He would take Liam and Asher fishing and out for burgers and ice cream, and then they would stop and buy flowers for Darlin' on the way home. It would become a tradition. She would get a random Saturday to herself to relax, and just when she would start to miss them, they would return home.

"Mommy! We got you tulips this time!" Asher annouced. He was missing both of his front teeth now, and he dropped the bouquet on the floor twice.

"So pretty," you told him, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"And we got you a chocolate shake from the ice cream place," Liam said, handing you the cup and a straw.

"My favorite," you replied, kissing his cheek as your husband appeared.

He had his arms around your waist as you juggled your flowers and your treat, kissing you on the lips. "And I've got a great idea for our next lesson, Darlin'," he whispered.

A smile curled along your lips. Jake was forty-eight years old, and he could still make your heart skip a beat like nobody else. "Oh yeah? Tell me."

"I'd rather show you. After the boys are in bed."

[therealcocoshady]

Eminem with a younger girlfriend - HCs

Hey guys ! Here is a little HC that popped in my head about Marshall Mathers dating someone significantly younger 😉. I hope you enjoy it 💕 it is directly inspired by my experience, a twentysomething who is roughly Hailie’s age, thirsting over him 🙊

- Marshall Mathers knows he’s got young ladies thirsting over him but he shrugs it off. Don’t get him wrong, he is flattered, but it makes him just a tiny bit uncomfortable. And when someone shows him some of these unhinged thirst tweets written by twentysomethings who are even younger than his own kids ? He is downright mortified.

- He doesn’t really get why people his kids’ age think he is attractive. Of course, music is part image and everything, but he’s got three daughters who constantly tease him for being a dork. Same for the younger rappers he works with. So he absolutely does not think of himself as a sex symbol or anything.

- He kind of figures people are not really attracted to him. That it’s more about the fame and the fact that pictures can be misleading. I mean, have you seen the way they photoshop his lines ? He really thinks people would come off it rather quickly if they saw him in person.

- Also, he’s young at heart, but he is very much aware of his « inner old man », who takes just as much space as his inner child. So, to him, no young lady in their right mind would actually be interested in him.

- By the way, he is more easily attracted by someone older than him than younger. And in the instances where he has dated younger women, a decade was the bigger age gap he would allow.

- Unless he meets you, that is. When you meet, the chemistry is immediate. He can’t even deny it. He is just attracted to you as you are to him.

- At first, he does not really register the age difference. But then, you say something like « oh, I remember when that song came out. I was eight ! » that has him in shock.

- He thinks you are absolutely stunning. And he knows he is allowed to. You’re over the age of 21, it’s not like you’re a teenager or anything. You’re an actual adult, mature and everything. But he is still weirded out. It doesn’t help that your personality makes you even more attractive. He is drawn to you and it kind of leaves him wondering if he’s being kind of creepy.

- As soon as he realizes how old (how young) you are he kind of stops flirting. « I’m sorry, i just- I thought you liked me ? » you say as you finally decide to confront him. « Yeah, I did. I do. It’s just… I’m 51 », he replies in an attempt to offer an explanation. « And ? » you ask with a raised eyebrow. « I hadn’t realized you were so young » he continues. « i didn’t realize i looked so old », you said with a pout. « No ! I mean- Look, I like you, you’re great. You look incredible. But I’m old enough to be your dad », he says. « I mean, I wouldn’t mind calling you Da- » you jokingly begin, but he shuts you up with a death stare real quick.

- You try the « come on, age is just a number argument » but it does not work as well as you hoped it would. « You know who would agree with you ? R. Kelly » he replies with a raised eyebrow.

- The two of you keep on talking and hanging out but he insists there won’t be anything besides friendship. Until, one night, your flirty banter finally earns you a kiss. « I knew you’d give in », you grin with pride and satisfaction. « I can still change my mind », he playfully threatens.

- The two of you start dating eventually but, in the beginning, he mentally slaps himself a handful of times. That being said, he absolutely can’t resist you.

- He wouldn’t go public with anyone, but especially not with someone with whom he has such a significant age gap.

- It’s also a reason why he doesn’t want to tell people about your relationship. He’s very reluctant to introduce you to his friends and meet your loved ones.

- He knows his friends would absolutely not leave him alone with the age jokes. You can count on his buddies to make jokes about you having a daddy kink.

- Speaking of which… You’ve got a Daddy kink ? Well that’s too damn bad. Because he will absolutely puke if you call him that. Nothing gives this man the ick more than the thought of you being with him because of some unresolved daddy issues.

- That being said, he will absolutely activate his « dad mode » in some circumstances. He doesn’t even do it on purpose. It’s in the little things, like the way he scolds you for not wearing anything warmer or how he reminds you to call him as soon as you get out of the club.

- He won’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t wear but he’s not a big fan of you wearing anything that makes you look younger than your years.

- Speaking of looks… dating someone younger definitely makes him more self-conscious about his own appearance. It’s already hard seeing yourself age when you’re a rapper but dating someone younger makes it worse. It definitely has him second-guessing his outfit choices.

- And even though you tell him you like his fine lines and graying hair… he is not having any of that. Look at him using (and abusing) the dye and skincare.

- With time, though, he doesn’t think too much about the age difference. At least, he doesn’t obsess over it too much.

- But he will absolutely throw it in your face in an argument, maybe using it to call you immature or something. (Even if he’s the one being immature)

- That being said, don’t you dare pull that shit on him and suggest that you might indeed go for someone your age. He is pretty confident but he is terrified to lose you to someone younger.

- Deep down, his biggest insecurity about your relationship is that your life plans might not align. And even if you assure him that you’re on the same page, he still braces himself for the day you decide to leave him.

- You might be self-conscious too, given the fact that he is usually attracted to women older than you. But he always makes sure to ease your mind.

- As the relationship progresses, he allows himself to be more committed to you but his reluctance to go « public » might cause some issues.

- Ultimately, though, people around you are supportive of the relationship - even though some of them might have some initial doubts.

- Let’s be honest : the most stressful part is not your friends or his. It’s family. He is terrified of introducing you to his daughters. And his stress is communicative. Also, he’s not too eager to meet your parents. Because he knows exactly how he’d react to his daughters dating someone his age.

- He is not one to give in to PDA anyway but it’s even worse when there’s family around. This man will not be caught holding your hand or even staring at you too intently. Even if people know you’re together. He is guarded like that.

- His daughters might end up telling him there were « signs » that he was dating someone younger : like some newfound interest in a particular TV show, more skincare in his bathroom…

- People around him aren’t specifically bothered by the age gap in itself. But you might be subjected to more scrutiny. They’d be quicker to assume you’re in it for shallow reasons.

- But once you’re in… you’re in. If anything, his whole entourage will be even more impressed. They know that dating Marshall isn’t a piece of cake and they’re really impressed that you handled the scrutiny they subjected you to so well.

- The more time goes on, the less of a big deal the age gap becomes, to you, to him and to anyone else.

- The only reminders are the little harmless jokes and Marshall’s celebration of anything that proves you’re aging. You might be a little self-conscious about your first wrinkles but he’s lowkey relieved. Maybe he won’t feel like a creep. 🙊

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

hello!! could i request how the sdv bachelors would react to finding out the farmer has a big plushy collection they have to share a bed with? :3

Yeah :3

Thank you for your ask, dear anon! Enjoy 💕

_________________________________________

Alex:

Alex doesn't remember any toys except for his shabby grid ball (thanks to abusive dad who drank all the money). His mom bought this ball and played with him whenever she was free. Good times... He was grateful even for that old ball and mom's care.

So he's a little unaccustomed among all Farmer's plushies. It's so... unusual.

But the way Farmer sweetly hugs their plushie, immediately melted the athlete's heart, though there was a residue of sadness about his childhood.

Which, however, doesn't stop him from teasing his partner/spouse a little.

"Hehehe, honey, are you still sleeping with your toys?" *Sincerely envies them, but won't admit it out loud*

*And won't admit a photo of him snuggled up with some of their plushies* ("Farmer, you betrayed me!" "Heh.." 💕).

Sam:

Oh, Sammy used to sleep with a lot of plushies, too. He grew out of them then, though, and gave many of the toys to Vincent... He still have some plushies.

"Whoa, I remember that bunny! Mom gave me one just like it, only mine was black. And I won an alpaca just like this one at a fair about eight years ago." Memories, aaaaa!

Totally doesn't mind sleeping with Farmer surrounded by plushies. Even uses some as a pillow (Farmer doesn't mind).

Although he accidentally drops half of the plush toys on the floor (headcanon that Sam is active even while asleep).

Farmer doesn't give snuggles? Sam pretends to be offended and hugs their teddy bunny, showing Farmer "what they're missing" (they give in and give Sam more snuggles before farm work).

Sebastian:

The photo of Sebastian, dressed in all black, lying stone-faced among a dozen pink plush bunnies, became an iconic meme all over the Stardew Valley. Heck, this meme became popular throughout the Ferngill Republic. He became an internet star, hee hee...

Sebastian's actually pretty chill about Farmer's plushies, to be honest. Even thinks it's a very cute quirk of his partner.

Especially since Farmer has plush frogs in his collection! 🐸 Sebastian also has a plush frog, don't ask why, but he can show Farmer too if they want to see.

The local emo is now sure of what gift is sure to make Farmer happy.

With one look, he'll scare whoever somehow finds out about Farmer's collection and teases them. Especially if it is a frog plushie.

Elliott:

Oh my, Farmer's got a huge collection of stuffed animals. They must have been collecting for a long time. And the condition of the plushies is very well preserved - you can tell they've been cared for.

Elliott was interested to hear about where and how Farmer got these plushies. Maybe each of plushies has a story behind them.

He's a little dubious about sleeping with plushies, though, because there are a lot of them. Like, a LOT. So much so that the writer didn't see his favourite person under the pile of plush.

So Farmer will only have to take some of it to bed with him (hopefully the others won't take offence).

Elliott is literally that "Ah yes, me, my spouse, and their huge collection of soft toys." meme. As it is, he doesn't mind at all.

Harvey:

That's pretty adorable. Although Harvey wonders to Farmer, do they really sleep with those plushies every day? Because it might not be very comfortable. Plus he's worried about his their uncomfortable sleeping position, and...

Ah, excuse him. Harvey can't take his doctor's hat off, even in a farm house.

He's a little uncomfortable sleeping with Farmer surrounded by all those toys, after all.

One time Harvey nearly had a heart attack because a huge plush bunny's face was staring at him in his sleep (without glasses, the doctor thought it was a monster).

But also sometimes, when he comes back from a hard day's work at the clinic, he's tired and falls right into a pile of toys. Yoba, they're so soft.

Shane:

"Here we go, Shane. These are my plushies." "Our plushies." "Huh?" Shane lay down on the bed, and the stuffed animals plopped down in a slide on top of him. "Our plushies."

Who would have thought Shane would be taken in by such a Farmer's quirk. He'd never looked so relaxed.

Embarrassed? Why would he? Nobody should give a shit that Farmer still has a collection of cuddly plushies. Farmer shouldn't give a shit about other people's opinions either.

Although Shane had virtually no toys as a child (as in, no normal childhood), he was often surrounded by teddy bears, foxes and other animals (because he was a frequent guest at Jas's tea parties).

Chicken man thinks it's sweet that Farmer still sleeps and talks to stuffed toys. So yeah, no problem with that.

[lace-coffin]

hello! Could you do something about Asa after he spends like, a good your looking for his newest member of the collection, and when he finds them, their just, surrounded by diff bugs?

Theres like, crickets in their hair, moths and butterfly all over their arms a few spiders crawling around their legs and their holding a praying mantis in their hands and staring at in awe. Their also babying talking it and cooing at it, when they look up and realize Asa is staring at them, they raise their cupped hands a show him the giant mantis resting their, saying with a cherry yet soft voice and smile "I named her Apple!"

I would appreciate it very much if you wrote something about this :)

But you don't have to, for any reason really.

Have a lovely night/day! Be sure to drink water and eat 💕

How would Asa Emory react to finding his new pet coddling his bugs?

Asa Emory/gn!Reader

Tw for bugs and power dynamics

Requests are open!

Asa moved through the halls of the hotel with efficiency, he knew them like the back of his hand, however that apparently wasn’t helping since he’d managed to...misplace his new pet.

You were supposed to be in your room, you were lucky you had even been granted the luxury of not just being crumpled into one of the boxes, but here Asa is, speeding down the halls and jumping/swerving around his traps like some kind of sick ballet in order to find you. You absolutely won’t be getting out of this without some serious punishment.

Asa curses at himself under his breath for making his place of operations so huge, it seemed like a good idea when he set up here and it was but damn if it wasn’t his Achilles heel in this situation.

Fifteen minutes of searching later his heart is picking up in an unfamiliar way, usually he’s not one to care about others or a stray victim but something in him can’t help but worry about loosing his newest subject already. Whether it’s because he cares for you or because he hates not being in control is anyone’s guess. (He’s soft for you and won’t admit it)

Finally as he’s cracking open a door at the end of the hallway he hears a sweet laugh echoing from further along. Bingo. You’re so dead when he finds you. As he’s about to slam the door open he realises this is infact where he keeps his enclosures for his specimens, he sighs and opts to open the door slowly and quietly as not to startle the bugs.

You don’t even notice Asa enter the room, currently too enthralled in cooing sweet words to the giant mantis in your hands.

Before Asa can demand to know where you’ve been and why, his breath hitches in his throat. There you are, sat on your knees next to the enclosure cases, covered from head to toe in his beloved bugs. The calm careful way you handle them and talk to them like they can understand tugs at his heart, his face softens at the sight, anger long forgotten and replaced by a feeling of fondness, the same one he felt when he was originally scouting you to join his collection.

The crickets cling to your stands of hair, a little messy since you had left your room before Asa got to around to brushing it but he’ll fix that later, sitting contently like they’d never been disturbed in the first place.

Moths and butterflies tap their tiny feet along your arms, fluttering their delicate wings, taking off and landing back with you when they please.

Asa takes in the scene breathlessly, if he hadn’t already been weak for you then he definitely is now. As he approaches by a few steps some thick hairy legs come into view, creeping slowly over your thighs and onto your lap. Tarantulas, two of them, using you as a lap cushion without a care in the world. You really are something special. In the back of his mind Asa makes another note to keep approaching slowly, despite you needing a punishment he’s not exactly wanting his eight legged pets to kick hairs at you in fright.

After a few minutes of blissfully observing one of the tarantulas unhurriedly totters off your leg and begins to move across the room. “Oh, where are you off to little guy? I need you over here with me, I’m already probably in big trouble with sir” you sigh. “I don’t want to loose you and make it worse, besides, I don’t think I could forgive myself if something happened to you under my watch”

In a strange way you suppose you understood Asa’s need to keep you under wraps right now, not wanting this beautiful specimen to disappear from your sight, much like Asa with you.

You swivel on your knees to coax the spider back into your palms, nudging its abdomen for encouragement and letting it waddle back into your hands. From your new position you catch a glimpse of heavy black boots in your peripheral. Oh.

You turn your attention fully to the man above you, heart racing at the idea of what’s about to come, however as you reach his eyes they aren’t filled with the rage or disappointment you were expecting. The black orbs are filled with softness, fondness, almost something sweet you can’t decipher.

Without thinking you present the giant mantis to Asa, still on your knees. “I named her apple!” A beat passes and an array of emotions flutter through Asa’s steely heart, his blank face still giving nothing away. After what feels like an eternity he crouches down in front of you, cupping his hands under your own, assisting in holding the mantis. “A fine name for her, pet. Do you know what species Apple is by chance?” He says in his firm but calm, leading voice, slipping into the tone he uses when teaching his lectures without even realising it.

“Uh-no, no I don’t sir…tell me?” You say, wincing a little at the stumble at the beginning, hoping asking him to tell you didn’t come off as rude or undermining his authority. Asa smiles, not letting anything on.

“She is a Giant Asian Mantis, or Hierodula membranacea, If you want to get technical. These are the most commonly kept mantis as house pets and come in an array of colours, but as you can see, apple is mostly light green. I think your name fits her nicely.” Asa explains matter of factly, hands still cupped under yours for Apple to totter onto.

“Woah” you say without thinking, watching Apple move to Asa’s palms and taking in the information. Asa exhales from his nose in a small chuckle. “Woah indeed, however I think it’s time we get you and Apple back to your respective rooms” Asa says with a quirked eyebrow, giving away that your not going to get away with this unpunished just because he finds you endearing.

Asa helps you round up the specimens and places them back in their individual tanks. After making sure you both wash your hands thoroughly he takes your now clean hand and walks you back to your room, letting you ask him more bug questions as you walk.

Despite how lovely this has been you’ll still be given a stern talking to once you return, Asa can’t bring himself to punish you for your little adventure and entomology lesson but isn’t one to let you off the hook without some kind of consequence, after all he expects your complete submission and obedience and won’t settle for any less. But for now that convocation can wait, and Asa can get you comfy on your knees infront of him, manoeuvring your head via the ring on your collar and finally working the comb through the snags in your hair with care.

I hope you enjoy this! Your rq was super fun to do and the idea was really cool! Thank you so much and feel free to send me more < 3

[respectthepetty]

The Heart Killers' Colors? - Ep. 6

I got my bizcochitos and boozy and spicy cinnamon dark hot chocolate (not champurrado, never champurrado), so I'm tipsy, jolly, and ready to watch episode six of The Heart Killers for Joong.

I mean for Fadel.

WAIT! I mean for colors!

Eff the colors! I'm here for water-based lube and condoms! Thank goodness for parents who advocate for safe sex, so I can get myself together after seeing Fadel do the walk of NO shame since Fadel should not feel ashamed for enjoying sex! Thanks, dad, for reminding me of my priorities!

Hold up! Are we switching to Shakespeare's The Tragedy of Othello, the Moor of Venice now?! Because that story dealt with lies and manipulation leading to multiple murders, and we all believe Mother has lied and manipulated these boys into killing others for her own agenda. *sips boozy hot chocolate*

Black Brooder Fadel is lightening up but is wearing red and Red Rascal Bison is wearing blue, so does this mean Style is a Red Rascal and Kant is a Blue Boy? I think the behind-the-scenes people are lying to me.

Style is wearing red again! And Kant is still on his bullshit, but they are sitting at a blue covered table. Does that mean anything?

It would be easier if Kant was a Green Guy (or even a Yellow Yal). It just makes more sense!

Because, regardless of what Bison thinks about blue, he is a Red Rascal.

See! Look at the blue disappear when he becomes passionate!

And a Green Guy would complement him and his aggressive and passionate personality. He would balance him out, and he would be the chill to Bison's no-chill self. They'd be chiles! They'd be Christmas!

And Style would make far more sense as a Red Rascal because of the way he brings out Fadel's desires!

Are you really a Blue Boy, Style?! I don't know because Dunk's arms are distracting me!

But I do know that I would go anywhere and do anything for this man just like Style does. If Fadel wanted to go to Top Golf, I'd go to that stupid frat bro place for my man. If Fadel wanted to go hunting in the woods for a week, I, a vegetarian, would go sit with him in silence for eight to twelve hours a day and make just enough noise to warn the animals, so he couldn't shoot any of them. And if he wanted me to eat Colorado green chile, I would NEVER DO IT because that's fake green chile and a stew, but I'd watch him eat it (while I eat Hatch like a proper person). That's the power of Joong Fadel.

Alexa, play Letters from Cleo's version of "I Want You to Want Me" from 10 Things I Hate About You!

Didn't I see you cryin' Feelin' all alone without a friend You know you feel like dyin' Oh didn't I see you cryin' I want you to want me I need you to need me I'd love you to love me I'm beggin' you to beg me

This is literally the only color I trust in this show right now, Cinematographer Rath.

BECAUSE PINK = 💕LOVE💕

Oh, thank goodness, the brothers are back to their true colors, and by that I mean chloroforming people until they pass out.

WHAT ARE YOUR COLORS?! JUST TELL ME ALREADY!

Now is not the time to serve cunt. Put those tits back in, you two!

Interesting that Mother is not in full red, but like a dulled orange-ish red.

Even more interesting that Keen matches her. I'd be wary of this kid if I was Bison and Fadel.

Kant is now giving me Beetlejuice and Foot Locker realness, but, thankfully, Style is offering me up some of that Blue Boy-ness I keep hearing about. Yes, Style, be loyal to your man! You are in love with a criminal and this type isn't rational; it's physical.

WHY ARE YOU WEARING RED AGAIN THOUGH?! Is it for love?! Fadel is, once again, light. He loves you too, Style. HE LOVES YOU TOO!

Bison is fully back in red now, and I do not think it's because of 💕love💕. 😬😬😬

Kant thought he was going to put Bison behind bars.

But it's about to get very gay and murderous up in here. In the words of one of my favorite Kesha songs, "This place about to blow" and not how Bison usually does it for Kant.

Kant, this twink is going to end you.

That's what you get for not showing your true color.

[the-kr8tor]

Okay I had a fic idea and rushed to tumblr to see if your requests were open I'm lowkey shaking rn.

Anyway can we imagine hobie and reader who are friends but secretly having feelings for each other, and one night reader gets a little too drunk at a party and sends a confession text to hobie ?! And the way he would come to pick her up right after this and confess in return AAAAAAAKFODJODNXODBF do you think you could write something about it ? No one can write Hobie fics like you 💕❤️

Hi hi I combined both of your requests bc they were similar hope you don't mind. Changed it up a bit but it's basically the same! Thank you for requesting!! 😘❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW alcohol, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Getting wine drunk is a bad idea, getting wine drunk alone is an even worse idea. Your vision swirls whilst you watch the most mind numbing reality tv there is. Mind hazy, the smell of stale popcorn filtering in the air, blanket comfortably on your legs. You look at your phone right next to you like it owes you money.

With a narrowed glance, the screen blinks open like you commanded it in your mind. You don't miss how you quickly take it in your wobbly hands despite the alcohol warming your insides. Huffing, you're immensely disappointed to see a notification from one of the games you play to pass the time.

‘Your castle is under attack!’ it says in bold letters, and you wish it was him texting you instead. Your wallpaper doesn't help much with your pining, the picture’s a bit blurry but even the blurriness can't hide how deeply in love you are with your best friend. You remember when the photo was taken, and you remember how fast your heart was beating in your ribcage when Hobie yanked you towards him. Sweat still clinging to him from his energetic performance, adrenaline still flowing in his veins as he squeezes his face close to yours. He gives the camera his signature smirk, whilst you could only manage a lopsided smile. Eyes shimmering under the spotlights, arms bravely wrapped around his middle.

You still can't believe you fumbled that day, you thought you had your confession in the bag, but when he stared at you with those brown eyes you loved so much since year eight, the words got stuck in your throat. With alcohol in your system, flooding your nerves with courage, you open your phone to finally tell him your feelings.

> Heyyy boo thang <3

You giggle whilst you hover your thumb at the send button. Backtracking and drunk off cheap wine, you add more to your message.

> Heyyy boo thang <3 just messaging u how ur doing and also I love u so much like a lot ever somce you held my hand during pe when that ball hit my face I loveee u and not just a friend muah <3

Eyes scanning the message, a sudden realization hits you like a truck, as if sobering you immediately. The thought of sending a love confession to *your best friend has you sitting up right on the settee, moreso via text message. But before you could erase it and forget about it, a sudden scream startles you, jolting, the sound making you drop your phone on the carpet.

“Shit!” You glare at the fallen phone then at the telly where the reality stars are now pulling each other's hair like they're in the playground.

With an annoyed click of your tongue, you take your phone from the ground to check the damage. Sighing in relief, you see no cracks in the screen, but your heart falls on the floor once you see that your drunken message has been sent. “No! Motherfucker—!”

Hobie’s head is pounding from the combined powers of the pints he chugged and the loud music banging on stage. The old leather seats of the booth scratch at his jeans, the smoky and musty air entering his lungs, and the warm lights shining in his blurring vision. He usually doesn't mind it, he thrives in the environment. But his band mates basically dragged him into the pub when he was supposed to be hanging out with you tonight.

“Mates before chicks!” James said, earning a loud slap from Yuri a second later. “You hang around her too much, we miss our guitarist.” Ned mumbles with his puppy dog eyes that Hobie never thought would actually work on him. “Just one round with us! And you can come back home to your girl.” Riri added with a teasing grin. Hobie didn't even correct her at this point, and he knows it’s not just for one round.

After sending you a heartfelt message using Ned's phone, he rescheduled the weekly hangout where you and Hobie would watch the crappiest show you could find airing on cable, and whoever leaves the couch first owes the winner dinner. To which Hobie always sees as a win/win, he gets to hangout with you more, and he gets to see you smile when he purposely loses. Hobie invited you to the pub, even though he knows you'd reject his proposal, simply because he knows you hate the place, and how the carpet sticks to your shoes.

He knows you more than he knows himself.

It's hard enough to find the time to see you with all his responsibilities. He hates it when he could only settle with a quick phone call every night to check in on eachother. Especially when just a few years ago you were hanging out with him almost everyday.

He never thought he'd miss you this much when he agreed.

Hobie loves his friends, he really does, but you just have a very special place in his heart that he wishes he was in yours too.

Nursing a pint, he drowns his feelings with the amber drink and loud chatter with his band mates. Riri grumbles something about her landlord, while Yuri replies back with a ‘mine’s always open for subletting,’ she says in a singing tone. A minute later, the entire table looks at him with similar glints in their eyes.

“What?” He asks a little too roughly.

“You should get your own phone, mate, because I don't want to see your bloody messages.” Ned scoffs, his phone in hand. “Seriously, this one is sweet and all but this could take a turn real fucking quick, and I don't want to see that shit.”

“What the fuck are you talkin' ‘bout?” Hobie doesn't think he's that drunk yet, even though he doesn't notice how his words slur together, or how his tongue sits heavy in his mouth.

Riri and Yuri giggle amongst themselves, while James takes a peek at Ned's phone before making a dramatic shocked face.

His nerves shoot up when James mouths your name. Are you hurt? Are you mad at him? “Y/N, texted? What’d she say?” Hobie tries to snatch the phone from Ned, to which his friend pulls it away from him playfully.

“Oh I'm gonna need some popcorn.” Yuri snickers.

Ned, being equally drunk, clears his throat dramatically while leaning away from Hobie, who is too drunk to even win against James who's currently holding him back. James laughs like a hyena in Hobie's ear, while Riri takes a picture of the chaos.

“Hey! Boo thang! Heart emoji.” Ned reads unabashedly, the girls laugh louder at Hobie's expense. “Just messaging you how you're doing, and also I love you so much!” Ned tries to copy your voice, “Like a lot—!” Hobie has had enough, cheeks hot (not from the alcohol) he uses his spider strength to push past James, then grabbing the phone so quickly that not even the owner processed what happened until he sees it in Hobie's hand. “You're no fun, mate.”

“Has anyone ever told you not to read someone else's messages?” Hobie hides the screen on his chest.

“It's my fucking phone!” Ned gestures wildly.

Hobie glares at his bassist, he peeks down at the bright screen, your name up top and caller ID smiling at him. He can't help but smile back.

He might be drunk, but he's not drunk enough to hallucinate you confessing your love to him. Via Ned's phone nonetheless.

He feels bodies crowd around him, Yuri's chin is pressed on his left shoulder while Ned on his right. Riri pushes James away to get a closer look at the screen while James settles to loom over everyone like some muscle-bound shield.

“What the fuck are you lot doin’?” Hobie asks, hands gripping the phone like it's about to be snatched from him.

“We're dying from anticipation here, bruv.” James says above everyone.

“‘Anticipation’, that's a big word, James.”

“Eat a bag of dicks, Yuri.”

“You first—”

“Would you all shut up?” Hobie hisses, eyes glued to the tiny dots at the bottom, indicating that you're currently typing.

“She's typing.” Riri whispers.

“We can all see that, Riri.” Ned whispers back.

Hobie shushes them both when the three dots disappear without a new message. His heart hammers at his chest, he feels like he's back in high school, way back when you could just smile at him and his day will be made better.

“Just tell her, mate.” Ned says a lot softer than Hobie thought he was capable. “We all know you love her, just bloody tell her because I'm gonna need my phone back to call a cab real fucking soon.” And he ruined it.

“D’you have a curfew, Neddy?” James asks teasingly, earning a scowl from Ned.

Ned rolls his eyes. “I'm just saying, she might appreciate it if you actually reply to it.”

“I think she's drunk.” Riri pipes up, everyone looks at her. She roams her eyes towards each of their faces. Rolling her eyes she points at the message. “Look, there's so many mistakes there and I've texted with Y/N before, she doesn't text like that.”

“What's wrong with texting with spelling mistakes? I do that.” James smiles.

“Because it's just you, you ding dong.” Yuri teases, and James fakes a deep frown.

“Being drunk doesn't mean she didn't mean the text. The alcohol might've just helped her send it.” Ned reassures Hobie.

“I did it.” Hobie half exclaims, bleary eyes repeatedly reading his text. I fucking did it, shit! He thinks to himself. Hobie's suddenly incredibly sweaty.

“Oh shit! That's my guy!” Ned punches Hobie's bicep. The rest look at him with bewilderment.

“What did you even say?” Riri scooches closer to read.

> I love you too I might be drunk right now but I wasn't when I first realized it I have loved you since you gave me hot chocolate when I was freezing my ass off trying to win that stupid selling contest

“Holy fuck.” Yuri pats Hobie's cheek. “Can't believe you're capable of being sweet.”

“Shit, bruv,” James sniffs, his tears falling on the screen. “that shit is awe inspiring— don't even start, Yuri”

“Wasn't gonna,” she shrugs.

Ned pokes Hobie's side when he realizes his friend hasn't moved an inch from his position. “You okay, Hobs?”

Hobie inhales shakily, a smile slowly spreading across his lips once your message pops up. He swears that fireworks suddenly lit up inside him.

“Oh my god—” Riri tears up, but before the rest of the band reads the message, Hobie jumps out of his seat, even forgetting his own jacket in the process.

“Hobie—shit! Wait!” Ned tries to call him back, but Hobie's already out of the pub, sprinting fast. “My fucking phone.” He could only scratch his head.

The wind nips at his bare arms, lungs heaving whilst he runs at full speed. He should've brought his web shooters with him, but he unfortunately left it in his jacket pockets. If he had them he'd be swinging to your place so he could get to you faster.

Hobie's glad that it's late, or else he'll be dodging people left and right. Boots thumping loudly across the pavement, hand gripping Ned's phone, getting closer to your familiar street, he curves around the corner, almost bumping into you.

He stops your momentum with his arms. He feels his own jacket against his arms, you wear his hoodie well. Your chest heaves, grin slowly appearing on your wind whipped lips.

“Hobie?” You ask and everything clicks together in his mind.

All the tentative touches you two shared, all the hugs that lingered a few seconds longer, all the times that you looked at him like he fished the moon out for you. And all the times he looked at you like you're made out of stars. It all comes together in that dusty street corner where you both have crossed a thousand times before.

“Looks like we had the same idea.” Hobie softly says, clammy hands sliding down to your own sweaty palms. He doesn't mind, it's you, so he would never mind it.

“I guess you read my message.” You hold him close, hands squeezing at his hands that you've mapped out in your mind.

He chuckles, sliding his hand out from yours to show you the screen. “‘Say it to me in person and I'll say it back,’ doesn't give me much leeway, love.” The streetlight above perfectly aligns above you, giving you both a spotlight.

You mirror his smitten smile. “What are you waiting for then?”

Hobie pockets the phone, then he holds your face gently, eyes staring at you like he always has. “I love you.”

You pull him closer by his collar. “I love you too, Hobie Brown.”

“Since when?” He rags you on.

You roll your eyes with a smile. “Ever since I got hit in the face with a basketball and you deflated it with your spiked bracelet and then called the jock who threw it a wanker.” He smiles wider at every word you utter. Leaning closer, he smells the wine on your lips. “The hot cocoa, really? That—” you fight the tears from flowing. “That was years before we became best friends.”

“And I've continued to love you since then, and will love you as long as you let me.” Hobie presses his forehead atop yours, a kiss would suffice better, but for now, he'll settle for this.

You know him better than you know yourself. “Save me a kiss once we're both sober?”

“They're all reserved for you, love.”

[steviewashere]

Dream Come True

Rating: General CW: Minor internalized ableism on Steve's end Tags: Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Future Fic, Adopting a Child, Parenthood, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Let Them Live a Quiet Life God Damn It, Mild Hurt/Comfort

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is about healing each other's wounds."

💕—————💕

They haven’t discussed children since the second month they were together. Was that probably a little too early in their relationship? Probably—Eddie will be brave enough to admit that right now. But, considering where they’re at now: Steve is forty-seven and Eddie’s forty-eight, their wedding bands are simple and gold (something easily spotted amongst the silver ones that Eddie still wears), the house they took a loan out for is painted yellow with white shutters installed (well, they paid Dustin and Will to do it. They were happy to help), they live in Massachusetts away from public eye, and though they don’t have a dog—not yet, the service dog process has been a long and weary one on Steve’s end—they have their little brown tabby cat. They’ve got a well furnished home. And years of love between them.

Nearly twenty-eight years in total. Nineteen years wedded. Six years of that are legally recognized. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is they stopped talking about the prospect of having kids.

Eddie’s initial answer at the beginning was, “Maybe. I think it would be neat. But, I’m gay, Steve. That isn’t really a possibility.” He chuckled a little bit. “I meant like adopting, but in a technical sense—Considering what’s in my pants, the possibility is still out the window.”

Steve’s was changed from what he told Nancy in that Winnebago. “I still want children. Or, just one. I want a quiet life. Even if you make it as some big rock star, I want a quiet private life.”

It was doable. What Steve had whispered on Eddie’s shoulder, that was doable. The question for years though was, When does he want that? And also, When will he leave to pursue that?

The answer was clear. Steve was never going to pursue that. That, sure, they’d have the quiet life. But never have children. And Eddie saw him wilt a little further and further. When they passed by the playground at the park. The daycare up the street from their home. After the seizure diagnosis, Steve stopped looking and thinking about it all together. It hurt Eddie’s heart.

He may have got the quiet life. And Eddie may have lived out his simple dream. He’d been a rockstar for a little bit in the late nineties and early two-thousands, retiring before they got married. But…Steve hasn’t lived his dream. Eddie hates that he thinks it’s being held back from him. Eddie’s determined to heal that hurt inside him.

——— Steve comes home from his Wednesday teaching shift around four in the evening. Eddie’s already on the couch, combing Poncho’s fur, watching the local news. He’s got a very important print out laid neatly on the coffee table. He hears Steve set down his briefcase on the dining table, his footsteps retreating to their kitchen to rinse out his thermos, coming back to the front door and placing his loafers on the shoe rack, and he hangs up his coat. Then, he enters the living room, hands scrambling to undo his tie, body leaning over the arm of the couch to press a kiss against Eddie’s mouth.

But then he pulls away, turning his whole body to watch the news. And that’s when he spots it. The flyer. He shuffles over on his mismatched socked feet, hands falling away from the collar of his dress shirt. He swipes up the paper. Behind his glasses, he squints.

It’s advertisement for the adoption agency some forty minutes out. Eddie hopes, by everything, that this will heal the pain in his own chest, and the emotional line of thinking in Steve’s brain. Hopes with everything that his body can physically give.

“What’s this about?” Steve asks. His voice is neutral. Almost…dare Eddie say, steely. Okay, maybe he made the wrong move. “We haven’t even—“

“I know,” Eddie immediately says. “I know we haven’t talked about it. But, sweetheart, just listen to me, alright?” At Steve’s confused and hesitant nod, Eddie tries to arrange his words. “This is something you’ve been wanting since forever ago. And I know that I haven’t really voiced my wants on it. But I also thought that it would never happen.

“That it would never be something people like me—“ He raises his eyebrows and points to the keyring attached to Steve’s belt loop. The short rainbow garland that sits discreetly among his keys. “—Would ever get the chance to do. But I—Steve, god, I want it so bad. I want to be able to be a dad and chase around a kiddo of our own while you’re busy at work. I want to see one off for school for their first day and cry like I’ll never see them again. Wanna make them a lunch they can bring to school, the same time that I make your lunch for your school. I want to watch them grow up with your goofy dancing skills and our combined love for music. And I—I want to be a better parent that I could’ve ever imagined.

“I want it with you,” Eddie breathes. “I want all of that with you. And I know that you still want it. Your forlorn looks at couples with babies. Every time you see Lucas and Max and their spitfire teenager, your eyes get this brightness to them that I—I have to be honest, I don’t think I’ve seen you happy like that since we got married.” He swallows at some of the implications there. And it’s not meant to be accusatory, but gosh does Eddie notice. The way his sunflower wilts. “This is just something for you to think about, okay? I know my decision on it. But think about it.”

Steve’s grip on the paper trembles. And his eyes are searing Eddie in a way that melts him. Blazing with adoration and love. “You want that?” He shakily asks. “You want to raise a kid with me?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, baby. I really, really, really do.”

“Even though…Even though I have seizures that could scare them shitless? And I get so angry some days that all I can do is hide in our bedroom and cry? And I—You want that with somebody like me?” He hesitates to ask again. Eddie doesn’t answer, but his arms open in comfort and his eyes soften with earnest. Steve doesn’t move from his spot, though. He looks back at the paper. “What’s the—Our first step?”

“We apply. And they determine if we’re worthy and that it’ll be safe,” Eddie answers. “If they see us fit, they’ll look at our house and things like that. We’ll come back to that later on. If that’s something you still want.”

“Okay,” Steve states with fervor. “Let’s do this.”

——— After a tedious process, Eddie realizes how correct he was.

It’s a Saturday. The curtains are open. Dinner is simmering on the stovetop. And Eddie stirs the soup while he listens in on Steve’s activity in the living room.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Steve is cooing. “Good job, Carmen. Look at you.” He’s been supervising her tummy time everyday he’s able to. Loves being able to lay on his back on the floor, eyes watching their daughter, his fingers combing through her hair as she uses her wide brown eyes to wonder about the world around her.

Eddie bites back a smile.

“That’s Poncho,” Steve is saying. He’s introducing them like they’re all acquaintances around a water cooler. Eddie, maybe, snickers a little bit behind his hand. “He’s gonna be your buddy. He likes the space between his shoulder blades scratched. Just like you, huh?” And hears the moment that Steve dully traces his fingernails on Carmen’s back. She gurgles a little excited babbling. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” Steve murmurs. “Daddy likes that, too.” He’s talking about himself. Because he practically fought tooth and nail for that title. Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way.

From the kitchen archway, Eddie surveys the display on the living room floor. And Steve’s on his back in his pajamas. Glasses smooshed awkwardly up his face as his cheek is pressed against the carpet, eyes gone soft and glistening while Carmen is on her belly. Her hands are sprawled in front of her, squeezing at the soft toys they had gotten. He’s brushing his fingers through her short, curly wisps of brown hair. Then, his hand travels back down to massage and scratch at her back again. She’s wearing a pink striped onesie and a pair of white socks on her little feet.

He clears his throat to make himself known. Steve looks up at him, softly smiling. “I reckon things are going good in here?” Steve only nods, too enamored with petting at Carmen’s back. Eddie finally smiles at him. “Good,” he whispers. He leans his weight on the doorway. A dish rag thrown over his shoulder, arms crossed low over his belly, hair thrown up in a loose bun on his head. Domestic life has really begun to suit him, if he’s honest. He finds himself at ease about it now.

As he turns back to the kitchen, to serve up their bowls of soup, Steve calls his name. He immediately turns back around. Greeted with his husband’s soft face, his deepened smile lines, his messy hair spread on the carpet. He’s more youthful than ever, fatherhood has changed him for the better, at least Eddie thinks so. He hums to see what Steve needs, because by god, he’ll do anything for him.

“Thank you,” Steve whispers.

“For what?”

“Making my hurt go away,” Steve says. But Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. And Steve clarifies, “Allowing me to accomplish my final dream. I’m really happy that it’s with you.”

Eddie crosses into the living room, crouching down to kiss Steve’s forehead, pecking Carmen’s soft head, too. He combs his own fingers through Steve’s hair. Smiling at the way he keens. “You made me believe that I could be a good dad,” he admits. “I can’t wait to do this right.”

Steve brings a hand to Eddie’s cheek. His index finger softly tracing down the side of his face. “Love you,” he murmurs.

Turning his face, Eddie kisses the tip of Steve’s finger. “Love you, too,” Eddie easily says in return.

Sure, he got to be a rockstar, but he thinks that this life—Steve soft and middle aged and smiling at him, petting down their daughter’s back, cooing soft as if he’s not almost fifty—is much better than anything he could’ve ever dreamed. Maybe filling the hole in Steve’s soul, the remedy that their daughter brings—Maybe that heals something for Eddie, too.

💕—————💕

[ambrozjas]

Could you do a song-fic with Sodapop Curtis w/ the song "Stupid Cupid" by Connie Francis? Love your writing, take your time 💕

stupid cupid ꨄ︎

sodapop curtis x fem!reader

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

THIS WAS SITTING IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG BUT I LITERALLY LOCKED IN FOR THIS FIC ITS SO CUTE I SWEAR JUST READ ITTT

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

reader is referred to as a girl and a lady, reader is called gorgeous and beautiful, beginning of this fic has soda in highschool so it takes place before the outsiders

✧˖*°࿐ word count ᰔᩚ

1609 words, 8588 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

stupid cupid, you’re a real mean guy

i’d like to clip your wings so you can’t fly

it felt like the roman god of love had shot sodapop right through the heart, and boy did soda hate it. that’s all that he thought while he gazed at you, chin held in palm as he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. when the school air had a chokehold on everybody, it left out you. you looked absolutely divine. soda wondered if the gods, if there were any or it was just some stories made up to fill the minds of lovesick kids like himself, favored you. because as he looked at you, the sun just seemed to reflect off you just right, to where it coated the side of your face with a honey orange. you looked like an angel sent on earth, disguised as a teenager in soda’s highschool. he asked himself what you were doing in tulsa rather than some other fancy state like california.

i’m in love and it’s a crying shame

and i know that you’re the one to blame

“mr. curtis.” a stern voice broke through to sodapop, breaking the stained glass that in soda’s mind, was a mural of you and only you.

he snapped his neck to look up at the teacher, hovering over his desk as a finger harshly pointed at the paper on soda’s desk, almost empty.

“uh—sorry, sir.” mumbled sodapop as he grabbed his pencil and put his best thinking face on, hoping that the teacher would take the hint and retreat back to his old scratched up desk that looked like it had survived world war one.

the teacher narrowed his eyes at him, his upper lip curling into a sneer as he looked down at soda, before slowly walking back to his desk.

soda comically sighed in relief, taking one more glance back at you. he pressed his lips together tightly as he saw you talking to your friends. he always loved seeing you smile.

he exhaled sharply, earning another warning look from his teacher. soda tilted his head down as he studied the math problems below him, cradling his hand in his hand as his brain tried his best to work.

hey, hey set me free

stupid cupid, stop picking on me

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

i cant do my homework and i cant think straight

“what’s up with you?” ponyboy asked, not looking up from his book. in the corner of his eye, he watched sodapop bounce his leg vigorously as he tried to rub his temples to somehow think better.

“nothin’, pony. don’t worry ‘bout it.” soda responded. he threw his head back to lean on the top of the chair, he was really out of ideas. all that occupied his mind was you. he was writing an essay? you pop up into his brain, he accidentally writes your name to which he has to erase afterwards with red ears.

i meet her every morning ‘bout half past eight

i’m acting like a lovesick fool

you even got me carrying your books to school

how could sodapop miss this once in a lifetime opportunity? he just had to talk to you. one day, when you guys met before school, your breath both evident in the cold oklahoma morning, you made a joke about soda carrying your stuff for you.

“here, be a gentleman, yeah?” a laugh slipper past your lips, and when soda heard that gorgeous sound come out of your mouth, how could he deny you?

your mouth fell into an ‘o’ shape, not even getting the word out before soda grabbed the books from under your arm and held them under his.

you tilted your head as a smile graced your face. gosh, were there wedding bells? soda definitely heard them.

“y’know i was jokin’, right?” you asked, making sure you weren’t forcing him into doing anything. “i can take them back if you want—“

“nah, it’s alright.“ he brushed it off, waving his free hand dismissively before starting again, “plus, you’re right. how could i leave a pretty lady to carry her books on her own?” to that, you sheepishly grinned wider as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear shyly when you looked away.

you mixed me up for good right from the very start

hey now, go play robin hood with somebody else’s heart

the more that soda talked with you, the harder it was to get you out of his head. but the more he talked with you, the less he minded.

soda had dropped out of school. sure, you somewhat contributed to him failing with how much you occupied his head, but it was also on his own.

he was working at the dx with steve, working on cars all day to especially help darry out.

soda wiped his face with his forearm, cleaning his oily rag as steve rambled about something in the background. he hadn’t seen you in awhile, considering that instead of walking with you to school, darry had dropped steve and soda off at work.

but suddenly, the door tripped the bell, giving it a loud ring as soda looked up at who was walking through the door. and speak of the devil.

he could recognize you just from your sneakers. his head whipped back up to meet your eyes, and gosh was it refreshing to see your face again. a soft smile still remained on your face, as it usually did.

“sodapop! so you really was workin’ here, huh?” you asked, eyes roaming around the multitude of shelves in the gas station interior.

soda’s mouth gaped, opening and closing like a fish. he watched as you walked up to the register and drummed your hands lightly on the counter.

“yeah!”, soda finally managed to blurt out, “how’ve you been? anythin’ new happen at school?” he asked, hearing steve finally shut up. soda could just imagine his ears pricking up at the sound of a pretty girl’s voice appearing.

“nothin’ much,” you leaned in and put a hand to the side of your mouth in a secretive manner, “mandy got pregnant.” soda gasped as he comically brought a hand up to his mouth. you guys whispered and gossiped, steve eyeballing both of you cautiously before slinging an arm around soda’s shoulders and brashly giving him a loud, “who’s this, soda?”

sodapop squinted at his friend and slowly turned his head, full of embarrassment. your eyes darted between the two of them, before giving steve a small wave and quietly giving him your name. your eyes fell back on soda, “well, i was just wonderin’ if you’d like to go to the drive-in wit’ me on saturday?”

“yeah, sure!” why was he acting like such a dork now? in front of the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen? but he sighed with relief when you nodded, giving him the same sweet smile you always greeted him with.

you got me jumping like a crazy clown

and i don’t feature what you’re putting down

once you had left the dx, soda went out to the garage and almost squealed, punching the air in excitement. steve narrowed his eyes as he watched through the garage windows, genuinely considering if soda was possessed or not.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

saturday couldn’t come quicker. it was already a great time leading up to the date, soda was confident. he was looked at himself in the mirror, popping his collar with assertiveness and heading out the door.

during the actual date, he tried to make subtle moves. shifting closer to you, touching thighs or linking pinkies. although you seemed okay with it, there was no engagement on your part. that almost worried soda, he knew you asked him on a date, but he was still overthinking. was he not all you expected? was he doing too much? too little?

but at the end of the date, when he drove you home in darry’s car that he begged to drive in, a small silence fell over you when you had reached your destination.

“y’need me to walk you up?”

“it’s alright, but do me a quick favor, will you?” soda couldn’t tear his eyes off your mouth when you spoke, lips painted a wine maroon color that somehow flowed so delicately with your words.

“anything.” was all soda said, before you placed your hand on the side of his cheek, giving him enough time to pull away, before closing your eyes and kissing him.

in that moment, it felt like you two were the only people in the world. just you, and soda, crammed into darry’s truck in the darkness of the night, only illuminated by the small light above you two on the car’s roof.

when you pulled away, you looked at soda’s lips, slightly parted and stained with a light purple-ish red as he looked at you, absolutely mesmerized.

“thank you. i’ll make sure to drop by the dx on my way home, ‘kay?” you said, not waiting for an answer as you bolted out of the vehicle due to your nearing curfew.

well since i’ve kissed her loving lips of wine

the thing that bothers me is that i like it fine

all soda could do was gape as he watched you depart into the sea of outside lights surrounding your front door and windows, watching you turn around give him a small wave once you opened the front door.

still dazed, all soda could do was wave back. before a wide grin appeared on his face as he covered his eyes with his hands.

stupid cupid, sodapop thought.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ this better get some likes i worked my ass off for this little fic and it’s only a thousand words 😭😭

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[liberalk1tsch]

💕 kissing somewhere other than lips

two things:

1. my mind immediately went to a far dirtier place before i decided to keep things a bit more PG today

2. i’m seemingly incapable of so-called «snippets» so enjoy a wee itty-bitty oneshot instead

from this ask game !

context: sneaking away on the victory tour, district 10, canon compliant, katniss didn’t even know that neck kisses were an option (!!)

“I need to leave. Now.” My voice is low enough to escape the crowd around us, but the severity of my words and the pleading in my eyes do not elude Peeta’s attention, even as I keep a false smile plastered on my face.

Concern flashes across his features, but it’s gone in an instant. “I know,” he says quietly, quickly replacing his worried expression with his usual dazzling smile. “Just follow my lead, all right?” I nod and he offers me his arm — the proper way, like Effie taught us — which I accept gratefully.

Peeta weaves us slowly through the sea of people, toward a side entrance at the back of the room. We accept what feels like a hundred vile congratulations on our victory along the way, to the point where I begin to worry that if I hear it one more time I’m going to be sick to my stomach.

Luckily, it’s at that very moment that the band ends whatever inappropriately lively tune they’ve been playing, and the crowd erupts in applause, giving us the cover we need to slip past the few remaining patrons undetected and into a dark quiet of a moonlit hallway.

Peeta immediately drops his arm, taking my hand instead and pulling me along, away from the cacophony of people celebrating the death of this district’s children. He tries door handles along the way until he finds one unlocked, and leads me inside to what appears to be an extravagantly decorated sitting room.

I start to wonder what such a plush, elegant room like this would be doing in a place like the Justice Building, before I realize this is probably one of the rooms where the tributes say goodbye to their loved ones. Where they probably made promises to their families to try to come back to them, just as I did. And if it hadn’t been for Peeta and I, there’s a chance both of their promises could’ve been honored.

At least it’s quiet. And we’re alone.

I sigh, walking over to the windowsill and take a seat, tucking my knees into my chest, staring out at the night sky. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Peeta leaves the door open a crack before joining me in the windowsill. “This is only our second stop on the tour, Katniss,” he reminds me, his blue eyes sparkling, near silvery in the moonlight. “But I know what you mean. I’m not looking forward to Eight. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling about One or Two.”

I hadn’t even thought about that. Or at least had been trying not to. I bury my face in the folds of my dress in an attempt to find some sort of comfort, no doubt messing up the makeup that my prep team spent hours painting onto me. Part of me wants to whine candidly about the unfairness of it all to the only other person who knows what I’m going through, but I know the whole building is probably bugged, that anything we say will somehow make it back to Snow, so without raising my head, I settle for reaching out my hand.

He immediately intertwines his hand with mine, giving it a squeeze before brushing his thumb over it soothingly.

We sit like this for a few minutes in comfortable silence, before the dreaded sound of several pairs of feet walking toward us sounds in the hallway. My heart drops and I look up at Peeta in alarm, devastated at the interruption.

“Oh, Katniss,” he says gently. “You’ve got a little . . .”

I quickly glance at my reflection in the glass of the window to find that my lipstick is indeed smeared around my mouth, the dark makeup they’d painted on my eyes now ringed like a raccoon. Any damage I’ve done to my dress is unnoticeable, concealed in the green and gold brocade pattern of my skirts, but the makeup is unmistakable proof of the break in my composure. This would only ensure that I’ll be taken for an emotional fool for the rest of the tour, and — as Peeta said — we were only two districts in.

“What do I do?” I ask, panickingly trying to clean up what little I can, but I only seem to be making it worse.

Peeta grabs my wrists. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” I ask.

“Do you trust me?” he repeats, more forcefully this time as the footsteps grow louder. Whoever is out there was almost upon us, whatever he was planning on doing to help, he didn’t have much time for.

“Of course, Peeta, I —”

My words are cut off by Peeta pulling me into his lap, but instead of kissing me like he normally would, he presses his lips to the side of my neck, right as the door swings open to reveal a group made up of a cameraman, the mayor of District 10, Effie, and Haymitch.

I let out a gasp of surprise, gripping Peeta’s arm tightly. Not because of the sudden audience bursting in on us, but because of the unexpectedly pleasant sensation of him kissing the base of my throat, the sudden warmth that rushes through me at the feeling of him sucking lightly at a sensitive patch of skin.

Peeta pretends not to notice the newcomers at first, but as soon as he does, he removes his lips reluctantly and moves to shield me from view before pasting an apologetic, charming smile on his face. The expression of a boy so madly in love that he’d been willing to risk getting caught if it meant a moment alone with his lover.

Meanwhile, the cameraman is near-giddy with excitement. The mayor looks bored. Effie is clearly beside herself with how mortified she is. A very drunk Haymitch is barely containing his laughter.

“Leave her alone, you’ve gotten your shot,” he says to the cameraman, shooing him away and pulling me closer against his chest. “I was the one who suggested we leave. She just looked so incredibly gorgeous tonight — I had to try to get her on her own, if only for a minute. Nothing happened, though,” he assures them.

The mayor coughs awkwardly. “We’ll leave you to it then,” he says to Haymitch before leading the cameraman out and shutting the door behind them.

Peeta releases me as the door clicks shut and I shift myself a friendly distance away from . . . whatever that was.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Effie chides us, her voice high and squeaky. “What will people think?” She looks genuinely upset. “You two are not off to a good start with the press on this trip. Now I have to go talk to that dreadful man to see if he’ll erase that footage. No victors of mine should be known for sneaking around doing who-knows-what behind closed doors. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“Sorry, Effie,” Peeta says.

“Sorry,” I echo.

“You should be!” Seemingly satisfied with her chastising words, she softens a little bit. “Now go and get yourselves cleaned up, children. We don’t want anyone else getting any more ideas.” Effie collects herself and disappears into the hallway, the clicking of her heels against the marble floors fading as she goes. Leaving us with Haymitch.

“You got overwhelmed?” he asks me as soon as Effie is out of earshot. I nod. “And you helped her?” Peeta nods. “You two are gonna be the death of me, you know that?” Haymitch pinches the bridge of his nose. “Nice touch with the whole sneaking away bit. Couldn’t have planned it better myself. Just try to keep it together from here on out.” He sighs. “I’ll go find one of your stylists. You certainly look the part of the caught-in-the-act teenager, sweetheart, and Effie’s right — there’s only so much scandalous press we can take.”

When Haymitch is finally gone too, I turn on Peeta. “What was that for?”

He blinks at me in disbelief. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“What you did,” I splutter helplessly. I didn’t know how to describe the neck kiss thing. Nor did I particularly want to voice how nice it felt.

“I was just trying to cover for you,” he says, a hint of defensiveness to his voice. “ I needed you to look surprised at them walking in on us for it to look authentic. And we both know you can’t act, Katniss. I asked you to trust me — it worked didn’t it?”

My face burns and I open my mouth to say something biting, spiteful, before stopping myself. No, I have to remind myself. I can’t be mad at him, not for this. He saved me just now; he took what would’ve been my humiliation and made it his, while fabricating even more rumors to support the guise of our relationship. Besides, I’m not mad at him, not really. It’s something else I feel — something undefined.

So why do I feel so guilty?

[ariseur]

id like to request a zack fair x reader... they're college roomates and zacks a total flirt and while reader denies it for funsies, after a really bad date with some frat boy, zack comforts her and she changes her mind?

micellar water 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

zack fair (ffvii) x fem!reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

hii!! i didnt really specify that they were in college or who it was that reader had a bad date with, this is kinda in zack’s pov and him just being super whipped for you!! this is probably like the longest fic i’ve made so far soo.. i hope you guys enjoy lol

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

mentions of crying, mentions of kissing (eww!! cooties!!), zack’s just super sweet but also super goofy— like he’s the dude to say ‘scruba dub dub’ in the shower type goofy, him waiting for reader and utterly being the ultimate retriever bf (or more so friends to lovers in this), lmk if i missed anything 💕

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

1789 words, 9782 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“woah, you look hot—!” you scoffed, hearing the grin in zack’s voice from behind you while he sat on the couch. you looked at yourself in the mirror, seeing how the sleek dress hugged your figure as you fixed your hair, curves shown on display.

you snickered as you watched zack stare at you, feigning awe with his jaw dropped low and a hand hovering over his mouth. “yeah, yeah. save it for later, i got somewhere to be.” you tsk’ed as your eyes flickered around the living room, searching for your shoes. walking down the hall, you shouted, “did you hide my shoes again, zack?”

a beat of silence passes before you zack’s guilty voice traveled from the living room into the hallway, “maybe.”

zack pouted as you made your way back, huffing as you spotted your pumps placed not-so-subtle-y under his sword. “maybe i just don’t want you going out with another asshole again.”

“he wasn’t that much of an asshole—“

“he smelled like it—“

with the glare you gave him, zack decided to shut up seeing the heel protectively clutched in your hand. sure, you went out with a lot of shitty guys, zack thought. but it was nothing you couldn’t ever handle before.

your face quickly shifted to a sly grin, standing upright as you primped once again, perfecting your look. “why, you jealous, zack?”

“no, just being the cool ultimate amazing friend that i always am.” he stated it so matter of fact like— when really, the word “friend” left his tongue rather thickly, the word almost dying at the back of his throat. he’d never tell you, he thought. he didn’t want to ruin what you both had with some stupid feelings of his own.

you let out an unconvincing, “sure, sure.”

zack surfed through the channels on the tv, sprawled out on the couch as he still felt his legs burn from the amount of squats he had done after training. he pressed his lips disappointedly at how the tv lacked any good shows before he heard you yelp, “shit! it’s eight—!”

tilting his head at your clambering, he sat there in bemusement as he watched you run out the door— until your head popped in one last time, “food, fridge, i’ll be back before midnight!”

but as the door shut in a hurry, zack leaned his head back against the arm of the sofa. the apartment was silent except for the low crackling volume of whatever crappy show played on tv. his chest rose and fell as he let out a big sigh, slumping against the couch as his eyes drifted towards the wall.

great, he was alone and his unceremonious attempts at hiding your shoes failed. he almost felt dissatisfied, why couldn’t you just see that he liked you? or better yet, why couldn’t he just admit he liked you so you could reject him and get over it? zack wore his heart on his sleeve, so why was it so difficult now?

one hour turned into two, and two into three. it took everything for zack just to keep himself occupied. he moved around the apartment restlessly— doing squats, watching shit tv, even trying so far as to try making a new dish. keyword: try.

after a whole day of pretty much doing nothing waiting for you to come home, he decided to just tire himself out enough to pass out on the couch, sleep being his last resort. he lolled his head on the arm of the couch, resting it in the dent left from the hours before. zack took one last look at the clock as it read eleven o’clock. letting out a sigh, he closed his eyes while shifting on the small sofa trying to get comfortable. nothing much better to do when waiting then take a nap to speed up the process, yeah?

but when zack jolted awake at the sound of the door slamming, he sat upright while his eyes searched the room. not even having time to rub the sleep from his eyes, he looked around.

now dark with only the tv as his light source, the clock on the wall now read twelve o’five and your heels were now carelessly thrown against the door. zack turned his head towards the new source of light and was met with the bright luminescent rays of the bathroom accompanied with your silhouette in the doorway. and at first glance, zack would’ve brushed it off as you just being lazy— but his thoughts changed when he heard the wet sniffles and broken sighs, his ears perked up.

his back hit the cold air once he got up, leaving the warmth of the couch and making his way over to the lit bathroom. mako tinted eyes adjusted to the light as they settled on your blurry figure, hunched over the sink with eyeliner smudged across your eye while you tried to catch your breath— and that woke him up real quick.

“zack—!” you said, and god, did your shaky voice make his heart ache. his body reacted on its own accord, arms immediately reaching out towards you and embracing you. zack put one hand on the back of your head as your body shook with silent sobs. he could feel the tears starting to stain his shirt, one of his favorites although that didn’t seem to matter now that he didn’t mind it being coated with your sorrow.

he heard a small voice next to his ear, wavering as you tried maintain your composure as you said, “i’m sorry i woke you up.” with a comforting hand on his back, you rubbed at the trail of his spine, unknowing that zack’s eyebrows were knit together with a strong bewilderment— you’re over here crying, and you’re apologizing over waking him up?

“don’t say that.” he told you, and you could’ve sworn his arms locked around you tighter. trying to lighten the mood, he gives a weary chuckle, “i needed to wake up anyways.”

you didn’t laugh though, simply soaking in the affection brought upon you until he finally pulled away. the hand that kept you at arms length squeezed your shoulder while you sniffled and wiped under your eyes. “‘m glad i wore waterproof mascara, today.”

his lips twitched downwards, watching as you made a weak attempt to brush his concern off. “what happened tonight?”

and that seemed to make you cry even harder, making zack curse himself as his eyes widened. “okay—! okay! don’t answer—don’t answer that!” he stammered, trying in a desperate attempt to get you to stop crying. he didn’t know why he’d even ask that to a person who was currently sobbing and probably needed space?

“here, just..”

a loud yelp left your lips once you felt zack’s hands lift you up from the underside of your thighs and place you on the bathroom counter, the cold ceramic a deep contrast against the warmth of your skin.

you let yourself settle as you watched zack rummage through the wooden drawers of the sink, grumbling something along the lines of, “where’s that stupid water..?”

you cleared your throat, “what water?”

“the stupid water you use when you have the waterproof thingy on.”

“..micellar water?”

“yes! that—!” he pointed his finger at you in agreement, watching as you leaned over and opened the first drawer and pointed out the small clear tub of the product. he looked around in search of something— before letting out a small, “aha!” sound once he found a small towel. you softly grinned as you watched him douse the rag in a copious amount of

makeup remover, not even bothering to wring it out before turning towards you with a triumphant grin.

you closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his calloused hands— gentle under your chin while the other one wiped the makeup off your face. he made sure to softly pat your eyes, making sure to try and rid all the mascara off your lashes as best as he could without being too rough.

“y’see? i told you i was the coolest awesomest friend ever, didn’t i?” zack finally said. even with his teasing grin, his tone remained uncharacteristically soft.

“‘cool ultimate amazing friend’.” you corrected him, the corners of your lips quirking upwards while you talked. zack was lucky you couldn’t see his smile right now, just happy to admire yours in the dim white lighting of the bathroom. “right.” he said, nodding his head as if you could see him now.

he set the towel down as he examined your eyes, making sure he got all the makeup off. fluttering your eyes open, you gazed back at zack. in any other scenario, he would’ve brushed his staring off and used the makeup as an excuse— but really, even with your puffy eyes and swollen lips, and even in the cheap apartment complex lighting, he’d still think you’re beautiful. maybe the dingy details of the bathroom and the close proximity made it more intimate than needed.

leaning forward, your eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes, ensuring that he wanted the same thing as you. and when he had met you in the middle, bridging the gap between your parted lips with his own, it’s like a wave of coolness washed over his body. your hands came up to rest upon his jaw while he thought to himself; this was all he ever wanted, his dream girl right in front of him let alone kissing him.

sighing, you pulled away for a moment— hands still rested on his face. his eyes held nothing but adoration for you when he gazed up at you, the small height difference causing his eyes to look even more ethereal in the light, swirls of mako and the overhead bulbs evident in his dazed eyes. he only chased your lips for a split second before you let out a small laugh and a sniffle. he wasn’t just a ‘rebound’, you thought to yourself, zack fair was a man worth much, much more.

he closed his eyes and leaned in for one more kiss, hand on the back of your head as it buried itself in your hair, but not before mumbling against your lips a quick, “am i still the most ultimate awesomest friend ever?”

you grinned, “do you wanna be?”

“you’re over here sat on the counter kissing your ‘cool ultimate friend’—“

“‘cool ultimate amazing friend’—“

zack pouted, tilting his head before you leaned in for another kiss, removing the dramatic curve of his lips. you groaned in exasperation once he pulled away again, he was just teasing at this point, wasn’t he?—

“i think cool ultimate amazing boyfriend sounds better.” he grinned cheekily.

[kayharrisons]

Nattie's (@kayharrisons) fanfic Masterlist!!!

Everything is below the cut! 🫶🫶

📖 Multichap

📃 One-shot

🙏 smut

☔️ angst

💕 fluff

No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her ☔️📖 ONGOING!

Bjorn Henriksen was the winner of the 24th Hunger Games, the first ever recorded Victor for District 12. He's unabashedly outspoken about the flaws of the Capital, angry after his continuous losses thanks to their hand.

When your name is the one read at the 25th Hunger Games, the first ever Quarter Quell, he knows without a doubt that he will do anything to keep you safe from both the clutches of the Capital and the Games themselves.

You are all he has left, after all.

Really fucked it up this time, didn't I my dear? 🙏☔️📖 ONGOING!

Summary: You and Bjorn are best friends, with certain benefits, have been for years. Except you want more, and Bjorn just doesn't seem to want to cave in. A small bump in the road may change that. 18+ only

It's getting dark, darling, too dark to see. ☔️📖 ONGOING!

Summary: your friends are dead. You and Bjorn are the sole survivors of the Romulus Space Station. You both hurt and heal together.

It's a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it ☔️🙏📖 ONGOING!

Tyler, your best friend, invites you and a handful of your friends home with him for the summer.

It's a beautiful village, like something right out of a storybook. His cousin, Bjorn, is just as beautiful as the village itself, and you can't help but feel drawn to him.

Everything, however, is not as it seems to be.

Let's have some fun, this beat is sick, I wanna take a ride on your- [Kay x Reader x Bjorn] 🙏📃

You're the manager of the up and coming band Corbelan. Only you wish you weren't when you catch your lead singer and drummer fucking.

If you got a boyfriend, I'm jealous of him, but if you're single that's honestly worse - [Tyler x Reader x Bjorn] 🙏📃

He doesn't know what's worse; his cousin's girlfriend or the fact that he can't get her off his damn mind.

Non-Bjorn Characters (still played by Spike tho!):

Enchanted to meet you [Louis Green x Reader] 💕📃

You're not sure what you've ever done to make him hate you. Louis is convinced he's doomed to suffer (pine) in silence.

Sometimes there's no proof, you just know [Thomas Mortimer x Reader] 💕📃

As Mr and Mrs Wickens youngest daughter, the friendship you find in Tom is precarious in nature by default.

Sirens in the beat of your heart [the Vandal x reader] 🙏📃

Summary: it's a run of the mill job. Get in, grab the diamonds, get out. It goes off without a hitch, you're on your way out.

Goes off without a hitch, that is, until you come across a vandal, right in the middle of your exit plan.

I was a child before the day that I met Eleanor 💕📖 ONGOING

Upon the birth of Kay's baby, your boyfriend comes to the realisation that he wants one of his own with you.

If you got a boyfriend, I'm jealous of him, but if you're single that's honestly worse - [Tyler x Reader x Bjorn] 🙏📃

He doesn't know what's worse; his cousin's girlfriend or the fact that he can't get her off his damn mind.

Good ole fashioned lover boy 💕📃

Anon Request: Tyler and Reader marry young! He loses his wedding ring and cuteness ensues!

OTHER CHARACTERS/FANDOMS:

Let's have some fun, this beat is sick, I wanna take a ride on your- [Kay x Reader x Bjorn] 🙏📃

You're the manager of the up and coming band Corbelan. Only you wish you weren't when you catch your lead singer and drummer fucking.

Always an angel, never a god 🙏☔️📖 (ft Tyler x reader, Bjorn x Kay) ONGOING

Summary: you and Kay Harrison have been best friends since she was six and you were eight, joined at the hip and inseperable ever since. You grow up together, you giggle about boys and share everything with one another.

Kay wasn't, however, prepared to deal with the feelings of having to share you with someone else, of watching you fall in love with someone else.

Especially not her own brother.

BULLET TRAIN

Any requests then feel free to send em!!

'Cause us traitors never win [TANGERINE X READER] ☔️🙏📖 ONGOING

Summary: You and your husband have been happily married for the last five years, both of you busy with your respective jobs but still finding ways to enjoy spending time together.

Your brother in law giving you both the gag gift of a marriage counselling session for Christmas, however, causes you both to look a little harder at the cracks in your marriage, until the glass facade shatters entirely.

Your husband is a contract killer for hire, one of the best, and you're apart of the FBI that's been hunting him down for years.

[cyberrose2001]

TFP Optimus x human!fem!reader

"ROSE I'M FREAKING OUT AAA I LOVE YOUR WRITING!! I am currently watching Prime so reading your Optimus fluff made my heart skip a beat! May I ask for more Optimus x reader (in a female perspective) fluff, and in a common situation like preparing for something humanly important (a ball perhaps)?? I don't got too many ideas but I would love to read anything coming from you! Please stay well 🌹❤️" - requested by @weaksall

Thank you so much!! This was such a cute idea! I found this amazing dress that I think is just gorgeous for this fic -> https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/706713366535507663/

I also didn't specify any hairstyles too because not everyone has long hair that they can style <3 I hope this is satisfactory!! 💕

Warnings: None! Just fluff

Word count: 1618

Today is a rather important day for you. Your work is hosting a gala ball to raise money for charity, and you are required to attend. You had never been to a ball and the thought of picking out grand outfits to wear and accessories has always excited you. Miko, of course, wanted to help you go shopping at the small selection of boutiques that Jasper has to offer. She may be into the alternative type of fashion, but the young girl has a passion for all types.

“Oh! What about this one, (Y/n)?” Miko drags you by the arm towards yet another boutique. You almost stumble as the stacks of boxes you’re holding pretty much blind your vision.

“Miko!” You laugh, “I think I have enough dresses to last me the rest of my life.”

“Oh, come on! You never know when you need…” She pauses to count the boxes in your hand, “Four, five…. eight outfits!”

You roll your eyes as you let her drag you into the boutique. Looking around, you don’t see anything that catches your eye. However, Miko is practically running around the joint pointing at different dresses and sending your mind for a spin.

“Miko, let’s just go.” It was your turn to drag her through the shop, as much as you love her, if you spent another hour dress shopping with her you were sure you would lose whatever brain cells you had left.

Before you could drag a sad Miko out the door, you spotted a gorgeous navy-blue ball gown that sparkled like the night sky. It had a heart shaped neckline with lace trimmings around the edges that tapered off to create a small off the shoulder sleeves. And by the all spark, you had to have it.

Miko followed your eyes towards the gown, and she grinned, “Do you want to try it out?”

-

It had been a week since Miko accompanied you to the boutiques and today was the gala ball. You had set up a small makeup station in the human area of the base, Miko of course going through it all trying to find the best shades of eyeshadows and lipsticks to use and making a mess.

“Alright, (Y/n),” Miko held out two sticks of lipsticks, “Purple or blue? Oh! What about GLITTER? OR- “

You wished you could rub your eyes in frustration, but you didn’t want to ruin your foundation, “Miko, sweetheart, how about a nice neutral shade? It’s a gala not a drag show.”

Miko dramatically tosses the lipsticks back into the makeup bag, “Yeah but you would look so cool!”

As you were applying your contour, blush and the colours of the eyeshadows that Miko picked out for you (they were colours you liked thank goodness), Optimus Prime had walked over towards the human area, curious about the commotion.

“(Y/n),” He looks around at all the different things that are scattered around on the floor, “May I ask what this is all for?”

You froze. You had not expected the boss bot himself to ask about makeup, Arcee maybe, but not Optimus. It doesn’t help the fact that you have been in love with Optimus since you first met him, but the way his eyes fill with curiosity as he asks the question warms your heart a little bit. You exhaled and placed the makeup brush you held in your hand down.

“Today is a really important event for my job, they’re hosting a huge charity gala to raise money to help sick kids.” You explained as best as you could to the bot, but you could read his face and tell that he was still a little bit confused.

“A… gala?” He raises an optic ridge.

“Yeah, it’s like a really fancy party.” You smiled, “You get to wear nice clothes, socialise with other people and- “

“And there’s LOTS of fancy food!” Miko butted in, “I’m talkin’ seafood, barbeques and sooooo many desserts…”

Optimus glances towards the young girl, then back to you.

“So, this gala,” He begins, “It is a culturally significant gathering for humans?”

You nod your head, picking up the makeup brush again, “Yeah, it’s a way for humans to come together for a cause, or just to have fun and make friends!”

Optimus hums and that makes you seem to think that he is satisfied with your answer. He watches as you delicately swivel the brush over your eyelids, admiring the movement of your hands. Your focus may be on the mirror, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“You mentioned nice clothes,” Optimus says, “Are you planning to wear something… ‘fancy’?”

“You don’t get to see that yet!” Miko perks up, she then grabs two lipsticks and holds them out to Optimus. “But you can help (Y/n) pick a lipstick colour, she doesn’t like MY choices."

You can feel your face heat up as you watch Optimus’s optics flicker between the two lipsticks with a raised optical ridge. You really do hope that Miko knows what she is doing.

-

It was noon, you and Miko had just finished the last touches and adjustments to your gown. You had brought a large mirror to the base so you can fully see yourself in the reflection, safe to say that you looked like a literal princess. Miko jumps up and down as she admires her work.

“(Y/n)!! You look so beautiful!” Miko squeals as she pulls you into a hug.

“Thank you, Miko.” You laugh at her energy, hugging her back. One would think that you were getting married by the way she reacts to you.

“I can’t wait to see what Optimus thinks of you.” She grins. You pull her out of the hug and give her a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Your heart is racing fast, “Why would Optimus care about how I look?”

Miko gives you a dead-panned stare, dropping her arms to the side, “Are you kidding me? Have you seen the way he looks at you, (Y/n)?”

Of course you have, but you’ve always thought that those were a different kind of stare, not because he… likes you.

“No," You lied, staring at yourself in the mirror again, “Even if he did, I doubt that he would have time for me, he is the leader of the Autobots… he has enough on his plate as it is.”

Miko rolls her eyes and leans against you, “Don’t sell yourself short, he is gonna faint when he sees you.”

She then takes your hand, dragging you out of the room, “Come on, it’s nearly time to leave anyway.”

You let her drag you out, what Miko said is now engraved into your brain and is now on a constant replay. Have you seen the way he looks at you?

Whilst you were distracted by the thoughts in your head, Miko had stopped you just before the door to the main area of the base, “Wait here, I’m gonna go and make sure that everyone is ready.”

“Ready for what?” You tried to question her, but she shushed you as she ran off. You’re awkwardly standing there now, occasionally fluffing your gown. You haven’t the slightest clue on what she is up to.

A few moments later, Miko calls out, “Ok (Y/n), come out now!”

You take a deep breath as you walk out, holding you gown to keep it from dragging on the floor. Your heart is practically jumping out of your chest.

You walk out to a crowd consisting off all of team prime, some are stunned to silence, and some are cooing and gushing about how beautiful you look. You decided to give yourself a boost of confidence and give them a twirl, the base of the gown flaring out as you do so.

“Wow, you clean up real good, kid.” Wheeljack nods with folded arms. Bumblebee and Bulkhead (with Miko perched on his shoulder) are practically swooning, Arcee is admiring your hair and makeup, Smokescreen is telling you how amazing you look, and Ratchet is scoffing about how silly this all is, but secretly he thinks that you look nice. Jack and Raf are also enamoured.

Optimus, however, is simply stunned to silence. His dermas slightly agape and a blue hue ever so slightly creeps onto his face. He loves the way the gown flows and the small intricate details on your torso, and he thinks the colour of the dress suits you perfectly. The lipstick he picked out for you was a classic red lip with a slight tinge of purple. And he now understands why humans were obsessed with the stuff; he could not stop staring.

You shyly thanked everyone for the compliments and noticed that Optimus had stepped closer to you and leaned down. You stiffen up a little bit as he held out a servo towards you, he touches the dress very gently.

“You look absolutely exquisite, (Y/n).” Optimus says, optics now staring into your eyes. Your cheeks flush at his words. You then gently took the digit that was toying with your gown and gave it a hug.

“Thank you, Optimus.” You smiled, you were sure that he could feel your heartbeat against his servo, “Do you think the lip colour ties it all together?”

His face flushed as you winked at him and then he smiled, knowing that he was the one that picked it out, “Indeed.”

Off to the side out of view while you and Optimus are sharing a sweet moment, Miko is holding out her hand so that a defeated Bulkhead can hand her an imaginary dollar bill, “Told ya he had the hots for her.”

[spring-siblings]

Better Than Okay - a Heartstopper fanfic

Summary: When Nick and Charlie bring their new baby home, Charlie struggles with intrusive thoughts under the stress of being a new parent. A continuation of my oneshot "I Get To Do It With You", but can be read as a standalone. Words: 6k Rating: G

Charlie’s phone had been vibrating nonstop the entire drive home, and it was really starting to irritate him.  He expected to get a lot of messages from friends and family today, but this was getting ridiculous.  He finally pulled into the driveway and picked up his phone to see what all the fuss was about.

He should have guessed that the Paris Squad group chat was blowing up.  And he should have guessed that the culprit behind the chaos was his husband, Nick.

Nick: Say hi to the newest member of the Paris Squad: Elizabeth Nelson-Spring!

Attached was a picture that Nick must have taken about twenty minutes ago, of their baby asleep in her car seat.  

Charlie looked in the rearview mirror.  Nick was in the backseat, still staring at her, completely oblivious to the notifications from his phone in his hand.  Charlie couldn’t help smiling.

His phone buzzed again, so Charlie decided to catch up on the barrage of replies.

Tara: Hi baby! ♥️

Darcy: HIIIIIIIIII!!!! SHE’S SO CUUUTE!!

Isaac: Aww! 🥰

Sahar: congrats you guys!

Elle: hi lizzie! can’t wait to meet her!

Tao: so happy for you!

Imogen: OMG NICHOLAS!! 😍😍😍💕💖🥰💗💞💓

Their fawning was rewarded with another picture from Nick, nearly identical to the first one, which was met with another round of fawning and keysmashes and heart emojis.  And then Charlie counted as he scrolled through not one, not two, but eight more baby pictures that Nick had sent.

Tara: Is anyone else getting ten of the same picture, or is my phone glitching?

Elle: they’re all different pics

Isaac: They’re literally identical

Darcy: corporate needs you to find the differences between this picture and this picture. and this picture. and this picture. and

Tao: nick cool it with the baby pics. when we said we wanted pictures we didn’t mean an entire stop motion film.

Imogen: c’mon guys he’s just excited!

Sahar: yeah he’s taking his duty as annoying new parent very seriously

Then Nick had sent another picture which was indistinguishable from the last ten.

The most recent message had come in a minute ago.

Tao: charlie take away his phone

Charlie: i’ve literally just pulled into the driveway, so the spam should stop for like 5 mins at least

Charlie looked back in the rearview mirror.  “Nick?”

“Eyes on the road, Charlie,” Nick said softly without looking up.

Charlie turned around in his seat and put a hand on Nick’s knee.  “We’re home.”

Nick finally looked up like he just remembered that the rest of the world existed.  “Oh.  I didn’t realize.”

“Did you look up once the whole way home?”

“...No.”

Charlie chuckled.  “I take it you also didn’t realize that you’re slightly annoying our friends with all the pictures?”

“What?”

Then both their phones buzzed.

“Is that Tao?” Charlie asked without looking at his.

Nick looked at the notification.  “He says, ‘thank you!’” he defended.

“Read the messages before that, babe.”

Nick did.  “Oh.”

Charlie squeezed Nick’s knee.  “Take as many pictures as you want.  But maybe be selective about which ones you send to the group chat.”

“I was!  I only sent the best ones.”

Charlie grinned affectionately.  “Oh my God.  This is gonna be even worse than when we first got Daisy, isn’t it?”

“Well, can you blame me?  I mean, look at her!”

Charlie leaned farther to see behind his seat.  Lizzie was still asleep, looking so tiny and perfect that Charlie’s heart swelled.  He didn’t think he’d ever get over this feeling.  He didn’t think he wanted to.  “No,” he answered Nick softly.  “I can’t blame you at all.”

For what must have been the dozenth time that day, Charlie was struck by the overwhelming feeling that this was real.  She was real, and she was here, and she was theirs.  He and Nick had a daughter!

After a moment, Charlie finally tore his eyes away from their baby and looked at Nick.  He was staring at her again with the most in-love look on his face that Charlie had ever seen, the same look that had been there since Nick first laid eyes on her.

Charlie smiled, soaking it in for a moment longer before asking, “Are you ready to bring her home?”

Nick looked up at Charlie with a besotted grin.  “Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first day home with their new baby went by so fast, as every experienced parent had told them it would.  

The introduction with their dog, Daisy, had gone well.  Daisy loved kids, and she reacted to the baby with equal measures of curiosity and gentleness that assured Nick and Charlie that the two would soon become best friends.

Shortly thereafter, Daisy had decided to celebrate by excitedly squeaking her loudest toy, which startled Lizzie awake, resulting in only moderate chaos and crying.  Charlie had quickly ushered Daisy outside with her toy, while Nick tried to get Lizzie to settle down before realizing that she would not be going back to sleep soon.

Since Lizzie had awoken, it was a constant blur of feeding and burping and changing and crying and wondering how such a small person could create so many messes, before she finally fell asleep again.  

That lasted approximately two minutes before the doorbell rang, Daisy barked, and Lizzie cried.  

Charlie thought it was some cruel irony that now he was facing the consequences of having the forethought to have dinner delivered.  One less thing to worry about, Charlie had naively thought.  

By the time he and Nick actually got around to eating their dinner, it had gone cold.  Thankfully, the inconvenience didn’t seem to bother Nick in the slightest; although, Charlie didn’t think that much could bother Nick today, seeing as he was on cloud nine.  Before they had even finished their meal, they were laughing about it.

Nick always had a calm, steady presence, and Charlie had never been more grateful for it.  Over the course of the day, whenever he started to feel overwhelmed, Charlie looked at Nick and saw him entirely in his element.  Charlie didn’t think it was possible for someone to look so enthusiastic while changing a diaper or with a baby screaming into their ear, but somehow Nick managed it.  Seeing Nick’s joy renewed Charlie’s confidence, and filled him with a love that didn’t have a limit, and reminded him that they would be okay.

As he tidied the kitchen after dinner, Charlie thought for about the millionth time that there was no one better to undergo the journey of parenthood with than Nick.

Then Charlie was jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of Nick’s voice coming from the living room.

“Char,” Nick stage-whispered from where he lay on the couch with Lizzie asleep on his chest.

Charlie turned around and made his way over to them.  “What?” he whispered back.

“I really need to pee!”

Charlie smiled.  “So get up.”

“Can’t.  I’m stuck.”  Nick glanced at the sleeping baby.  “I don’t want to wake her.”

Charlie stifled a laugh.  “All right, come on,” he said, extending his hands as he bent over them.

Together, they tried to shift Lizzie as carefully as possible without jostling her.  For a few seconds they seemed to be succeeding, but as soon as she was separated from the warmth of Nick’s chest, she started whimpering.

Nick and Charlie both froze and grimaced at the same time.  So much for trying not to wake her.  

Lizzie’s whimpering quickly escalated into a loud wail, so Nick decided he better make this quick and handed her off to Charlie.  As he stood up, Nick tried to slide his forefinger out of Lizzie’s tiny fist, but she would not budge.

“Oh, now I’m really stuck,” Nick said, trying to gently pry her fingers loose with his other hand, but she had him in a vice grip.

Charlie laughed.  “Come on, use those strong rugby arms.”

“I’m trying!” Nick half-laughed, half-whined.  “She’s really strong!”

Charlie shook his head in amusement.  Leave it to his big, golden retriever husband to be thwarted by a newborn.

After a couple more attempts, Nick freed himself.  “I’m sorry, sweetie!” he apologized to Lizzie, who was still screaming.  “I’ll be right back!”  He kissed the top of her head before jogging to the bathroom.

Lizzie didn’t stop crying as Charlie settled her into the crook of his elbow.

Charlie saw Daisy staring up at him from her bed with a pleading look, as if to say, Are you going to fix that?  I’m trying to sleep.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Charlie told her.  “You cried on your first night home, too.”

As Charlie recalled, Daisy’s whining had lasted no more than twenty minutes before Nick couldn’t take it anymore and slept on the floor with her.  Daisy had slept through the rest of the night without a peep.  Charlie had no hope that this time would be so easy.

Daisy let out a long sigh that Charlie felt in his soul.

“Shh, it’s okay, Lizzie,” Charlie cooed, trying to calm her down.  He instinctively started swaying side to side.  

Lizzie let out another wail, her tiny face all scrunched up and cartoonishly red, which in another context might have looked funny, but now it only made Charlie feel helpless and out of his depth.  He was suddenly very aware that this was the first time he was alone with her, and that her care rested entirely on him.

It was so much easier to be confident when Nick was doing this with him.  He knew that if he ever didn’t know what to do that Nick would have his back.  Lizzie already trusted him.  Of course she did—Nick was already so good at this.

Charlie knew there would be times when he would have to do this on his own, even if just for a few minutes.  That was when the self doubt crept in.  Could he do this on his own?  He could.  He knew he could.  But knowing what he was capable of and feeling confident about what he was capable of were two very different things.

Lizzie kept crying, and Charlie didn’t know what else to do besides murmur, “Shh,” and keep rocking her.  She had eaten recently, so she shouldn’t be hungry; she didn’t need a diaper change.  Maybe she was just tired.  Maybe she was overwhelmed by all this newness.  Maybe she was upset that some inept stranger was holding her.

As Charlie looked down at her tiny scrunched-up screaming red face, he was, for the infinite time, consumed by the feeling that he loved her with his entire being.  He would die for her.  But they were still just getting to know each other.  There was still so much he had to learn about her.  He didn’t know what she liked, what she disliked, what comforted her.  Well, Nick comforted her, clearly—something they had in common.

And then Charlie thought if someone had come and picked him up when he had been asleep on Nick, he’d be pretty upset, too.

“I know,” Charlie told her softly, “he’s so warm that you just want to cuddle with him forever, don’t you?”

Lizzie’s crying got quieter.

“Ah, so you agree?”  Charlie smiled.

Lizzie’s eyes grew wide as they slowly focused on Charlie’s face, like she was really concentrating on his words.

“You like it when I talk to you?” Charlie asked, pleased that he had apparently gotten something right. 

Lizzie was totally silent, like she was waiting for him to continue.

“Okay.  I can do that.”

So he just rambled off the first things to pop into his head while Lizzie stared at him.  “Hi.  I’m Charlie.  I’m your dad.  The warm, cuddly one is Nick.  He’s your dad, too.  Not like, Dad Number Two.  But, between you and me, if there is a ranking, he’s definitely Dad Number One.”

Lizzie blinked slowly.  

Charlie spoke even softer.  “You’re so lucky to have him as a dad.  You’re gonna love him.  I think maybe you already do.”

Charlie felt the familiar sensation of Nick’s arms wrapping around him from behind, and a second later he felt Nick’s chin rest on his shoulder.  Nick started swaying along with him, and Charlie touched his head to Nick’s.

“Hi,” Charlie greeted softly.

“Hi,” Nick returned, a smile in his voice.  “I thought we agreed we were both tied.”

“Hmm?”

“For who was gonna be the best dad.”

Charlie grinned, recalling the conversation he and Nick had had months ago.  Charlie had assured Nick that he would be the best dad, which Nick would only accept if they shared the accolade.  “You heard that?” Charlie asked.

“Mhm.”

They continued swaying together for a few more turns, staring at their baby as her eyes closed.

“I think she loves you,” Nick murmured.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  Nick exhaled slightly as he smiled wider.  “My God, she is so cute.”  He leaned back, releasing Charlie.

Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie saw Nick angling his phone.

“I knew that was coming.”

“What?  I can’t witness you two being so adorable and not document it.”

Charlie rolled his eyes affectionately as Nick tapped away.  Charlie looked back to Lizzie, who appeared to be totally asleep.

A full photoshoot later, Nick finally tucked his phone away and said, “Let’s put her to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite Charlie’s best efforts, Lizzie woke up again just as he lay her down in her crib.  She wasn’t wailing, but let out a sustained, unsettled whine.  Charlie considered rocking her again, but didn’t want to repeat the whole process if she was only going to cry again the second he set her down.  He looked to Nick.

Nick pursed his lips.  “Let me try something.”  He leaned over the crib and started humming to her.  After a few seconds Lizzie got quieter.  Nick smiled at her without interrupting his humming.

It took Charlie a minute to place the melody, but when he recognized a slowed version of Fleetwood Mac’s “Everywhere”, he smiled.  Not exactly a traditional lullaby, but it apparently worked; Lizzie’s eyes were drooping, so Charlie didn’t dare say a word.  

Nick quieted his humming as the song ended.  Lizzie had her eyes closed, and he waited for a few silent seconds to see if she would stir.  She didn’t, and Nick smiled triumphantly at Charlie.

Charlie smiled back, and silently clapped.

They watched their baby, their arms wrapped around each other, basking for a moment in all the love and gratitude and awe of the day.

After a few minutes, they tiptoed out of Lizzie’s room and quietly shut the door.

“You’re really good at this,” Charlie told Nick.  “I mean, I knew you would be.  But seeing you in action is like…wow.”

Nick smiled.  “You’re really good at this, too.  You were rocking her like a pro.”

“I think it was your lovely voice that finally did the trick.”

“My very boring voice, you mean.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s what did it,” Charlie smirked.

Nick grinned and then furrowed his brows thoughtfully.  “She’s very in tune with sounds, isn’t she?  I wonder if she’ll be a musician like you.”

“With that strong grip she’s got, she might be a star rugby player like you.”

“Oh God, that’s a scary thought,” Nick shuttered.  “I don’t want to think about anyone trying to tackle her—she’s so little.  She’s, like, the size of a rugby ball.”

“She won’t be forever.”

“I know.”  Nick sunk his head into Charlie’s shoulder.

Charlie wrapped his arms around Nick, and Nick returned the embrace.  They held each other for a moment, grounding one another after the whirlwind of a day.

Charlie let out a long sigh.  “I love you,” he murmured into Nick’s neck.

“I love you,” Nick returned.

They both leaned back and then found each other’s lips, sharing a tender kiss.  They broke apart and gazed at each other.

“We haven’t kissed all day,” Nick realized, before leaning in for another.

Charlie kissed him back.  “What a day it’s been.”

“We waited so long for today, and now it’s nearly over.”

“With many more to come,” Charlie reminded him.

Nick beamed and pressed his forehead to Charlie’s.

After an immeasurable moment, Nick sighed.  “I need a shower,” he said, leaning back.  “I’m sure I look like an absolute mess.”

“You’ve never looked better,” Charlie told him earnestly.

“What, looking all tired and frazzled, with spit-up on my shoulder?”

Charlie smiled.  “Yes.  And also completely in love.”

Nick smiled back.  “Yeah.”

“Go shower,” Charlie said, nudging Nick toward the bathroom.  “I need to finish tidying the kitchen.  I’ll come to bed in a bit.”

“M’kay,” Nick murmured, staring at Charlie a second longer before walking off.

Charlie made his way to the kitchen, picking up the baby monitor from a side table in the living room.  He turned it on, and made sure the volume was up, before setting it on the kitchen counter next to the sink.  

Through the speaker came the faint sound of Lizzie’s breathing.  Charlie smiled.  God, even her snoring was cute.

He set to work on the dishes which were left from lunch.

When the dishes were finished, he went over the rest of the kitchen, wiping the counters and putting away all the miscellany that had been left over the course of the busy day. 

As he threw the last paper towel away, Charlie realized it was disconcertingly quiet.  He couldn’t hear Lizzie’s delicate breathing anymore.  He looked at the baby monitor, waiting to hear it again, but there was only several slow seconds of silence.  No need to panic.  She had probably just turned her head.

She was fine.  She was probably fine.

Charlie had gotten pretty good at managing his intrusive thoughts, and in recent years they had become less frequent and less intense than ever.  But stress tended to trigger them.  Like, say, a major permanent life change that was sure to alter every aspect of his life.  

He knew that being stressed about being a new parent was normal.  And it was a good kind of stress, and one that he had asked for.  He also knew that it might negatively affect his mental health.  Becoming a parent necessarily entailed giving up a lot of control in his life, and his OCD didn’t like that.  He had been prepared for that.  But knowing why his brain did something didn’t stop his brain from doing that thing.  

Lizzie had still not resumed her snoring and the little voice in Charlie’s mind saying, What if she stopped breathing? was getting louder.

What if she stopped breathing?  What if she’s turning blue?  What if she’s suffocating in her crib right now while I’m just standing here?  What if she’s—

He had to check on her.  He would be a bad parent if he didn’t.

He sprinted to the hallway outside her room.  He opened the door as quietly as possible and tiptoed across the room to the crib.

She was fine.  She was breathing evenly, sound asleep.

Charlie let out a long breath, then sank to the floor so he was sitting in front of the crib.  He leaned forward until his forehead was touching the bars.  He watched her breathing, her chest rising and falling, her tiny nostrils flaring just slightly.  He breathed along with her to slow his down.

Inhale.  Exhale.  Inhale.  Exhale.

It wasn’t working.  His brain would not shut up.  He instantly recalled countless articles and blog posts and forums he had read in the past several months relaying all kinds of horror stories.  Children afflicted by illnesses, accidents, injuries, their poor parents trying everything, and ultimately being powerless to stop it.  This wasn’t just his brain inventing catastrophes, these were things that actually happened.  Things that could happen to her.

He took another deep breath, trying to force a connection between what his eyes were seeing and what his brain was telling him.  Lizzie was fine.  She was here, alive and breathing, right in front of him.  She was fine.

Charlie flinched when he heard the door creak open.  

“Charlie?”

He didn’t look away from her.

He heard Nick tread across the floor, then pause for a moment before whispering, “What are you doing?”

Charlie let out another breath.  “Watching her breathing.”

“Why?”

“I couldn’t hear her on the baby monitor, so I had to check that she was okay.”

Nick took a step forward.  “She is.”

Charlie still had not looked away from her, so Nick sat on the floor facing him.  “Charlie, if you can’t hear her, that just means she’s asleep.”

“I know.  Had to check anyway.”

Nick took Charlie’s hand and squeezed it.  “What are you thinking about?”

Charlie took a breath before turning his head toward Nick.  “I love her so much.  And I don’t want anything bad to ever happen to her.  But I know I can’t totally control that.  And that’s scary.  And I keep having intrusive thoughts about all the horrible things that could happen to her.  And I’m scared that if something bad does happen that I won’t be able to do anything about it, or I won’t know what to do, or I won’t be able to do enough.”

Nick nodded.  “Okay.  What’s the worst that can happen?”

It was a strategy that Charlie sometimes used for putting his intrusive thoughts into perspective.  Imagine the worst case scenario (which he was usually already doing when he started the exercise), then the best case scenario, then the most likely scenario.  It helped to contextualize his catastrophizing, and ground him into reality, which usually fell between either extreme.

“The worst thing that can happen,” Charlie began, “is that Lizzie gets some horrible disease that has no cure.  And she gradually gets sicker and weaker and there’s nothing anyone can do to help her, so I just have to sit there and watch her die a slow and painful death.  And I spiral into profound grief that I never recover from.  And we grow to resent each other over it, and we fight all the time until we finally get divorced.  And I stay miserable my whole life until I die sad and alone.”

There was a second of heavy silence before Nick exhaled.  “Oof.  Okay.  Now the best thing.”

“Nothing really bad ever happens to her.  Lizzie has a full, happy life, where she gets everything she wants.  And we never understand what other parents are going on about, because raising her never seems that hard.  And we all live happily ever after.  And Daisy breaks the world record for longest living dog ever.” 

Nick smiled.  “And the most likely thing.”

Charlie took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts.  “Sometimes she gets sick.  Sometimes she gets hurt.  Sometimes bad things happen and it’s hard, but we help each other through them and they don’t last forever.  And good things happen, too.  We try to savor the good things.  And we end up okay.”

“Okay,” Nick said softly.  “I like okay.”

Charlie exhaled.  “Me, too.”

Nick reached out and wrapped his arms around Charlie, holding him tight.  Charlie returned the hug, burying his face in Nick’s shoulder, breathing him in.

“We’re gonna be okay, Char,” Nick assured, and he felt Charlie nod.

After a moment, Nick said, “We should try to get some sleep while we can.”

“Mhm,” Charlie said, but stayed put.

Nick pulled back.  “Are you gonna come to bed?”

“I’d…rather stay here.”

“Okay.”  Nick squeezed Charlie’s hand before letting go.  He stood up and quietly left the room.

Charlie continued to watch Lizzie breathing.

A couple minutes later, he heard the door creak.  Daisy came up to him, tail wagging, and licked his face.  Then he saw Nick carrying the pillows and duvet from their bed along with another thick blanket.  He dropped everything to the floor before he began spreading the blanket out in front of the crib.  He put the duvet on top of it and then arranged the pillows where the head of their bed would be, near where Charlie was sitting.

Nick folded over the duvet and slid underneath, laying on his usual side, closest to the crib.  He looked up at Charlie and patted the spot next to him.  “Come on.”

Daisy went to lay down near Nick’s feet.  

Charlie smiled fondly.  “You’re really gonna sleep on the floor.”  It wasn’t a question—he knew the answer.

“I’m gonna sleep wherever you are.”

Charlie crawled under the duvet beside Nick, settling into his side.  Nick wrapped his arms around him as Charlie nestled his head into Nick’s shoulder.

“Do try to get some sleep, okay?” Nick murmured.  

“I’ll try.”

Then Nick suddenly smiled at Charlie with that adoring look of his.

“What?” Charlie whispered.

“You’re a dad,” Nick whispered back, beaming.  

Charlie grinned.  “You’re a dad.”

“We’re dads.”

Then they had to stifle their elated giggles so they wouldn’t wake their daughter.

For a moment, Charlie felt simultaneously like a real full-blown adult who was responsible and capable, and also like that giddy fourteen-year-old laughing with the boy who felt like everything to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nick groaned as he rolled over, his back aching.  Sleeping on the floor had been a mistake.  He conceded that he was officially too old for this.  

The sunlight shining brightly on his eyelids indicated that it was already well into the morning.  Then he remembered that he wasn’t meant to sleep on the floor all night.  Someone was supposed to have woken him up.  

His eyes shot open and he saw that the spot next to him was Charlie-less.  He groaned again as he sat up, stretched his stiff muscles, and looked around the room bleary-eyed.  “Charlie?”

Then Nick found him, and the sight brought tears to his eyes and took his breath away.

Charlie was asleep in the recliner next to the crib, with Lizzie asleep on his chest.  They both had the exact same open-mouthed expression on their faces.

Nick recalled all the countless times he had looked over at Charlie sleeping and thought that that would be the last thing he’d want to see before he died.

He felt something similar now, only so intense that it swelled in his chest and got caught in his throat.  He blinked, and tears spilled over, blurring his vision.  He wiped his eyes so he could see clearly.  

This was the most adorable sight in the history of the universe.  More adorable than Charlie sleeping on his own, more adorable than Daisy as a puppy—which was really saying something.  Nick sat and stared for a moment before scrambling for his phone.  This had to be preserved for posterity.

Nick checked his pockets and then the blankets around him before remembering that he had left his phone to charge on his nightstand.  He clumsily got to his feet and then tiptoed out of the room, mentally chanting, please don’t move, please don’t move, please don’t move, before he could get his camera ready.  

He retrieved his phone and returned to Lizzie’s room in seconds.  Both Charlie and Lizzie remained exactly as they were, and Nick began taking dozens of photos.  

To his dismay, no matter the angle or the lighting, none of the photos seemed to do justice to the real thing.  Nick resigned himself to the fact that the technology simply didn’t exist that could capture such potent adorableness in its full glory.  

He selected the best photos and attached them to a text.  

Nick: THIS IS LITERALLY THE CUTEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE!  I HAVE LITERAL TEARS STREAMING DOWN MY FACE RIGHT NOW!  I CANNOT COPE!  I LOVE THEM BOTH SO MUCH!!!!

Sarah replied within minutes.

Mum: Aww, that’s wonderful, darling!  I’m so excited to meet her later.  All my love and hugs 💗💗💗

Nick smiled at his phone before he resumed staring at them, his heart full.  

He heard the door open, and then felt Daisy nudge his hand with her nose.  He patted her on the head.  Apparently, she was the only one sensible enough to return to her bed over the course of the night.  

“I know,” he whispered to her.  “I haven’t forgotten about you.  Let’s go.”

Nick ushered Daisy out of Lizzie’s room and Daisy ran for the back door.  Nick took one final look at Charlie and Lizzie cuddled up together before he closed the bedroom door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charlie awoke suddenly to the sensation of something moving against him.  His brain worked slower than usual as he got his bearings.  Lizzie was still asleep, which seemed odd.  It took him a second to realize that it was his phone vibrating persistently which had woken him up this time.  He carefully fished it out of his pocket before it could wake Lizzie.

The Paris Squad group chat was back at it, and once again, Nick was the instigator.  This time, he had sent one single photo of Charlie and Lizzie asleep.

Imogen: 🥺🥺🥺

Tao: !!!!

Darcy: AJSXJSBDKDNSJDN

Elle: the unholy shriek that came out of my mouth

Sahar: omg they’re both drooling

Tara: Please tell me you have more 😍

Nick: Oh so now you want more baby pictures?

Darcy: we want more charlie-drooling pictures

Isaac: Seconded. If you have more Drooly Charlie pics please send them our way

Tao: thirded

Charlie: pls dont

Darcy: look who woke up from his nap!

Then Nick sent another picture, a close up of their faces, which highlighted the stream of drool down Charlie’s chin glistening in the light.

Elle: that’s it I’m gonna paint this

Charlie: elle no

Nick: Elle yes

Tao: ELLE YES

Charlie heard a faint chuckle coming from somewhere in the house.  A moment later, the door opened and Nick stepped into the room, carrying a mug in one hand and a bottle in the other.

“Hi,” Nick greeted softly.

“Hi,” Charlie returned.  His voice was still thick with sleep.

Nick set the mug and bottle on a side table next to the chair.  “I made you tea.”

“Mm,” Charlie sighed groggily.  “Thank you.”

Nick knelt down in front of the recliner, just beaming for a moment before he looked at Charlie seriously.  “Did you really get up with her all night?” he chided.

“...Yeah.”

“Charlie—”

“Have you been crying?” Charlie asked when he noticed that Nick’s eyes looked red and puffy.

“A bit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why were you crying?”  

A big, dopey grin spread across Nick’s face.  “I just love you both so much.”

Charlie grinned back, but couldn’t help teasing him.  “I’m the one who should be delirious; I hardly slept last night.”

Nick sighed.  “I may have slept longer, but I reckon you were a bit more comfortable than I was.”

“Sorry, I should have woken you.”

“Yes, you should have.  We were supposed to take turns getting up with her.”

“I know, but…I couldn’t really sleep anyway.”

Nick furrowed his brow.  “How are you feeling?”

Charlie exhaled.  “Tired, obviously.  But better.  It helped to do something.”  

Charlie looked down at Lizzie sleeping.  “I think a part of me is always gonna worry about her.  And I think I just need to learn how to cope with worrying without letting it spiral.”

Charlie felt Nick squeeze his arm and looked at him.  “I sense a Nick Pep Talk coming.”

Nick smiled.  “I mean…you are amazing and capable and a wonderful dad.  Obviously.”  Nick’s expression turned serious.  “I don’t really have any words of wisdom that will fix anything, though.  I think all you can do is take it moment by moment and do what you think is right.”

Charlie remembered telling Nick the exact same thing when he had been doubting himself.  “Are you giving my own advice back to me?”

“It’s good advice.”  Nick grinned.  “You really know what you’re talking about about.”

Charlie rolled his eyes, endeared.  “It’s not that I feel incompetent.  Like, I know I can do this, I know I’m capable.  But it doesn’t help my confidence when I anticipate everything that could go wrong.”

Nick sighed.  “Yeah.  I know what you mean.”

“Do you feel that way, too?”

“Part of me still can’t believe that people trust me to keep a tiny human alive.  Who allowed that?”

“Literally an entire team of professionals whose job it is to ensure children’s welfare.”

“Right.”

Charlie grinned.  “People trust you with a classroom of Year Twos.  Surely that’s more difficult.”

“That is completely different.”

“Of course,” Charlie nodded, sarcastic.  “Being a teacher has no real consequences.  If you’re bad at your job, then worst case scenario, a bunch of seven-year-olds don’t learn subtraction, but then that’s someone else’s problem, isn’t it?”

“Charlie.”

“Do I have to tell you again that you’ll be a great dad?” Charlie asked, returning to seriousness and looking squarely at Nick.  “Because I will.  You are a great dad, Nick.  You got Lizzie to sleep last night without a fuss.”

“So did you.”

“Yeah, and then I woke her up.”

“She’s asleep now, isn’t sh—?”  Nick hadn’t even finished his sentence when he saw Lizzie’s eyelids fluttering.  “Hiiiii!” he said, drawing out the syllable in a high voice.

“Is she waking up?”

“She is.  Good morning, sweetheart!”  Nick reached forward and gently patted her back.

Lizzie blinked slowly and nuzzled into Charlie’s chest.

“I know, he’s really cuddly isn’t he?” Nick said softly.  “That’s my favorite spot to sleep, too.”  He exchanged a glance with Charlie before looking back at Lizzie, beaming.  “Oh my God, Charlie, did you see that?”

“What?” 

“She just smiled!”

“No, I can’t see from this angle.”

Without looking away from her, Nick took out his phone and started recording.  

“Can you do that again, darling?” Nick cooed, smiling widely at her.  “Oh…”  He raised his eyebrows.  “Aww!  That’s it!”

“She did it again?” Charlie asked.

“She did it!”  Nick started welling up and wiped under his eyes.  “Here I go again.”

“You’re gonna make me cry!  Let me see.”

Nick turned his phone toward Charlie so he could see the video.

Charlie watched for a moment, and then pursed his lips, looking to Nick hesitantly.  “I’m…not sure that counts.”

Nick flipped his phone back around to look at the video.  “What do you mean?”

“I think her mouth just twitched.”

“You just don’t want it to count because you didn’t see it firsthand.”

“No, I think you’re seeing what you want to see.”

Nick looked at Charlie with the closest expression to heart eyes that a human could physically make.  “Maybe so.”  Then he raised his phone, focused the lens, and took a picture.

“More pictures?” Charlie said.

“You two look so cozy together.”

“Don’t you have enough?”

“Never.  And I hardly have any with her eyes open.”

“Are there about a million identical pictures of us on your phone right now?”

“Maybe only like…half a million.”

“Gathering future blackmail material I see.”

“It is my duty as a parent to take as many adorable and embarrassing baby pictures as possible.”

“Well, you are definitely succeeding at that.”

Nick and Charlie quit their banter when Lizzie started whining.  

Nick patted her back again.  “Are we being too loud?”

“She’s probably hungry,” Charlie suggested.  He repositioned Lizzie on her back, and Nick handed him the bottle.  Charlie offered it to Lizzie and she began eagerly guzzling the formula.

Nick smiled at Charlie.  “You know what you’re doing.”

Charlie smiled back and then went back to looking at Lizzie.

“Do you think we’ll ever get tired of staring at her?” Nick asked after a moment. 

“No,” Charlie replied without breaking his gaze.

“Me, neither,” Nick agreed.  “You know,” he murmured, “I think we’re gonna do a bit better than okay.”

“You do?”

“I really do.  It won’t always be easy.  Sometimes it’ll be really hard.  But,” Nick looked back to Charlie, “anything I get to do with you is better than okay.”

Charlie looked up at Nick and nodded.  “Yeah.  I think so, too.”  He leaned in and kissed Nick.  

Nick returned the kiss for a moment, before pulling back and smiling at Charlie.  “I should start on our breakfast,” Nick said, rising to his feet with a groan.

“Making dad noises already?” Charlie teased.  “I thought those weren’t supposed to start until you were at least forty.”

“Oi!  I slept on the floor all night!  I have good reason to be a bit creaky.”

“That was your choice.  Deal with the consequences,” Charlie said cheekily.

“No, those are the consequences of you not waking me up.  So tonight,” Nick raised his eyebrows, “I’m getting up with her, and you are sleeping.”

“No, we can take turns.”

“You need to sleep, Charlie.”

“I will.  I’ll take a nap this afternoon so we can take turns getting up tonight.”

Nick pursed his lips.  “Oh, all right,” he relented.  Then he leaned down, gave Charlie a peck on the lips and Lizzie a kiss in the head before heading for the kitchen.

Charlie turned back to Lizzie.  “I think you’ll learn very quickly that he’s a bit of a pushover,” he whispered to her.  “Which I’m sure you’ll use to your full advantage, won’t you?  And if it’s up to me to be the strict parent, well then, I think you’ll end up getting your way all the time.  You’re gonna be so spoiled.”

Lizzie’s eyes started drooping.  Charlie brushed his finger over her tiny fist and she grabbed hold of him.  

He beamed down at her.  “I love you, too.”

Soon Lizzie finished her bottle.  As Charlie was burping her, he felt his phone buzz.  

He presumed Nick had sent another picture to the group chat, so he took out his phone to mute the notifications in anticipation of the onslaught of replies.  Instead, it was a text from Tori.

Tori: i’m doing the shopping today, so let me know if you want me to bring anything else for dinner tomorrow

Charlie: will do

Tori: how was the first night? you doing okay?

Charlie took a picture of himself and Lizzie and attached it to his message.

Charlie: yeah, we’re doing okay

[fiction-is-life]

Congrats on 500 babe! You deserve every single one of them and so many more 🤍 Can’t wait to see you continue to grow and flourish 🦋 love you so much

Can I please request an angsty but fluffy blurb based on this prompt “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” with Rafey baby? I will cry 🥹

Need You

Author's Note: Aww, thank you so much!!! You are too sweet! Thank you for always commenting/reblogging my fics, you seriously don't know how much it means to me! I hope you like this one, I almost cried making it! 💕

Summary: Rafe is lost without you.

Warnings: Pregnancy/labor complications, mention of surgery, depiction of a coma, possibly unrealistic depiction of pregnancy/labor complications

~

It had been over a week.  Eight days, thirteen hours, and forty-six minutes to be exact.  

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  For the past seven and a half months, your pregnancy had gone off without a hitch.  Every sonogram, every little kick, was a source of joy for both you and Rafe.

Sure, you were young, practically still kids, but you knew you were meant to be.   You had been planning your life after college for years, even before you had started to date.  You were just doing things a little out of order.

But then you had gone into labor early - six weeks too early to be precise.  The doctors said you were lucky to be alive, let alone fortunate that the baby had survived.  They had said that it was a condition called placenta previa, but Rafe hadn’t been listening.  He was still looking at your seemingly lifeless body on the operating table as they handed him the baby, asking for a name.

But he couldn’t even bring himself to name the baby.  He knew it was a boy, but it didn’t feel right to do something so monumental while you were still not awake.  He let his dad and Rose handle everything else, let them make him eat and listen to the doctors say they didn’t have much hope.

Rafe hadn’t even let himself cry - he was still too stunned to do so.  He just sat at your side, watching you.  On the eighth day he broke down, exhausted and drained, and he started to talk to you.

“He’s healthy, you know,” he said, his voice raspy from disuse.  “He’s perfect.  Ten fingers, ten toes.”  He took a shaky breath - the only kind he knew how to take these days.  “He’s got your eyes.  Rose says he has my smirk, though, so I don’t know if that is a good thing,” he chuckled.

He paused and took your hand, gently caressing it.  He sniffed.  “The nurses keep telling me all the stuff I’m going to have to do for the baby.  I know we took those classes, but I feel so overwhelmed.  I just can’t mess anything up for him, you know?  I thought I was going to have you to help me.  You have always been there, (Y/N/N), ever since we were kids.  Always so level-headed, getting us out of trouble wherever we found it.”

Tears started to roll down his face, slowly, but he couldn’t feel them.  “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you,” he sobbed, finally letting himself feel the emotions that had been pent up for over a week.  He buried his head in your hand, kissing it and covering it in tears in equal measure.  

He sat there for what seemed like forever, simply expelling all of the grief and terror from his body.  When he finally looked up, he gasped and started crying anew.

You were awake.  Rafe leapt out of his seat to kiss your beautiful lips carefully, his trembling on top of yours.  When he pulled back, his heart caught in his throat, and all he could manage to say was a small, “Hey.”

You giggled lightly, still tired.  “Hey,” you replied, also lost for words as Rafe once again took your hand to kiss it reverently.

Rafe smiled, his eyes shining with love as they always did when they looked at you.  He took a deep breath and swallowed before licking his lips as he always did when nervous.  “Would you like to meet our son?”

You just smiled, and Rafe knew that everything was finally going to be alright.

~

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