#hence the polos

[staab]

Some drawings of the main girls, and trying to figure out how I want them to look

[aro-aizawa]

i like to think everyone has a colour associated with them, whether its just your fave colour or what you generally wear most of or what colour your bedroom walls are. i always associate the name sophie with dark blue, my mum is always a nice turquoise, i like to think my colour is a bright sunflower yellow.

if you have a specific shade pls tell me i adore when ppl have associated colours and tell me them, bc i think of them when i see that colour

[lyqiche]

sketch

[wimbledonstrawberry]

I didn't know if I should post this here or my k-pop blog but OMFG this is like my fav boy will be in my fav sports event!!!! I'm not quite sure if Mark will attend the males final but I'm pretty sure he will make it to the ladies one and this is the best thing that has ever happened to me

[xenophondraike]

One of the things that irks me the most is when someone takes the time to try and pronounce a non-english word "correctly" be it for some sort of thing like "croissant” or otherwise to show off but everytime I tell someone how to pronounce the first part of my username (Xenophon) correctly they always default to the butchered "Zeen-o-faun" immediately afterwards when literally you can look the damn name up and see and listen that it is pronounced "Zen-uh-fin" jeez. It's greek! Not English. If you're gonna have a pride thing about pronouncing non-english words "correctly" as a predominantly English speaker do it for non-english names too. Either that or drop the pride, cause the pride makes you sound like an asshole when you mispronounce non-english names.

[spicymancer]

What was the process like for designing the ActiRangers, their civilian and suited forms? Their suits look so cool, it’s definitely clear you have a lot of familiarity with the genre while also having great ideas on how to innovate and add your own unique elements! Did they go through lots of conceptual iterations, or did they come pretty naturally? Any particular teams that inspired you, like SPD or RPM with their numbered members?

So the Actirangers started out as characters designed for a private little Tokusatsu OC jam I did with some friends! The design I submitted was Pink, (hence why she's kinda the main character of the story)

(Real name and certain background elements redacted for spoiler reasons)

So Pink's suit was the first one designed, hence how she's kinda the most basic of the Rangers. I had just got done watching Birdie Wing and Love After World Domination and thought it would be kinda fun for a golf themed sentai hero.

She was originally going to be ActiRanger 5 before I thought of the "Four/Fore" golf pun.

The rest of the team was then designed from there with each of their sports in mind and some general vibes.

I don't think they went through all that much iteration, though I will say since I tend to draw them in Black and White I sometimes mix up which parts of their suits are their color and which parts are black.

I wanted to give them each some kind of Power Weapon so I stuck to stick sports and also Table Tennis. (I am still weirdly fond of the old Penny Arcade Paint the Line comics)

As far as Power Ranger teams that inspired them, Mighty Morphin' is obviously the biggest inspo. (The Dan Mora run on the Go Go Power Rangers comics is awesome.) Time Force, S.P.D. and RPM were all on my mind as well.

For the Gambit Gang I was struggling to come up with a fun villain theme and eventually figureod out that the enemy to the "Sports" team had to be the "Chess Club". (Insert joke about polycules and board games)

Gray in particular was conceived at this point when I and wanted an Evil Ranger on their side. Chess Knights having a vague horse theme, he obviously had to be Polo! His design draws pretty heavily from Mystic Force's Koragg which is still IMO one of the sickest designs Sentai has ever cooked.

Wow that got a little more long winded than I inteded but I hope y'all enjoyed this little peek behind the curtain of the ActiRanger's development!

Thank you all for enjoying my silly OC comics and doodles!

[realcube]

oh and similarly, pro hero!tenya iida is THE dilf

the hot single dad you see at kids' baseball game and ballet recitals, always cheering and clapping the loudest. sporting cargo shorts, running shoes, and polo shirt that accentuates his buff arms.. who is also a bit too overly competitive/involved in a children's activity: consantly berating the referee for their lack of attentiveness to clear foul-play, or debating with the dance contest judges about inaccurate scores. but it's okay because he's cute hence he is allowed to #pretty privilege

i just know he is raising the most well-behaved kids too. when one of them accidentally bumps into to because they were goofing off in the supermarket, he'll stand over them and demand they say sorry. which they timidly do, and it was uncomfortable to be in that position, but it's worth it for the apologetic smile tenya flashes you, before ushering his kid away.

and pls don't get me started on an au where you are his kids' elementary school teacher. he firmly believes educating is one of the most important, diginified and unappreciated careers there is, so he was already buying gifts for the staff throughout his kids' pre-school. however, after the first parent-teacher meeting and he sees you're their new teacher, the gifts that were previous things like candles and mugs, quickly turn into designer perfumes and luxury chocolate. (none of the chocolate ever sees the inside of your mouth though bc ppl steal it in the staff room 😔). and the gifts become far more frequent too: he used to only buy them at christmas, but you receive presents from the iida kids on new years, teachers' day, easter, your birthday, valentines in addition to chistmas.

you better believe he is signing up to be an assistant for all the extra-curriculars too. under the guise of wanting to contribute to the school, but really because he wants to spend time with you. need a parent-helper for a class field trip? iida volunteers expeditiously. looking for donations for the bake sale? iida brings in six trays of home-made cupcakes (and one for you too). struggling to direct the school play on your own? iida comes in and runs that stage like it's the goddamn military. pro-heroing essentially becomes a side hustle, while he's your full-time assistant. (and he's definitely parent council president too. and if the school doesn't have a parent council, he'll create one.)

[polarisbear]

more dweebs (Very detailed image description below.)

a drawing of grian, ethoslab, tangotek, and smallishbeans. grian is in his season 10 fishing skin and the rest are in different outfits referencing their base themes.

grian is in his fishing skin looking very tired with his fishing rod swung over his shoulder and an ear pierced with a brassy fish hook. he’s a cod hybrid with fin-ears and a stubby tail. behind him blue snail is munching on some leaves.

etho is posing with a neck sheepishly behind his neck and the other resting on his bag. he’s in the postal uniform polo with a green, canadian maple-themed yukata loosely worn and slipping off his shoulder. he has fingerless gloves on under. he is wearing dark red pleated pants and light green heeled crocs. he has a black and red messenger bag with a trellis motif. etho is an arctic fox hybrid with brown legs and streaks through his hair. doodles below show what his paws look like under the crocs and one shows him posing with a note saying “ties up sleeves.” above him another note reads “streaks bc his winter coat is shedding.”

tango is posing confidently with a wrench. he is in the postal uniform polo, with chunky brown and orange gloves and boots, topped off with red, pinstriped overalls. one strap is not around his shoulder, and on the belt around the overalls they carry a small bag, a screwdriver, and a vial of redstone. he has on brown goggles with blue lenses. tango has fire for hair and pointed ears. above him there’s a doodle of the messenger bag that’s secured on his back. it shows how the orange straps tuck over the whole outfit and lead to a dark red and pinstripe blue bag with cog detailing.

joel is giving an indignant pose like he’s complaining. he is wearing a black undershirt that fades out into his light green claws, a pink kimono with only one sleeve of cherry blossom patterns, and a dark grey vest and cherry blossom-patterned obi tie it off. the vest has a cherry blossom crest on the back. joel also has on dark pink pants with a cherry blossom motif on the bottom and on his left arm there’s a bracer with a screen built in. crawling all over the undershirt there are cybernetic patterns connecting joel’s skin through to the undershirt. joel is a tanuki, hence why he has a leaf on his head. around joel are doodles showing the crest on the back of his vest and the pattern on the sleeve.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

tell me about the real historical figure Marco polo

Marco Polo is famous for finding his way around the world by shouting out his own name and following when distant people from unfamiliar lands called it back to him. He did so even from across land masses as he rode on horseback, hitting a ball with a hammer, and over bodies of water like oceans and pools, hence his nickname, "Water Polo." He also invented a new type shirt that could establish at a quick glance that its wearer was a rich pretentious jerk.

[vaaaaaiolet]

A broken backspace key, two rival magazines, and love letters sent through email. It’s the 2000's and Raccoon Mag’s prize photojournalist lands himself a secret admirer. 

You. 

gn / m, fluff, romance via email love letters, how to lose a guy in 10 days-esque, just a cutesy romcom, reader works a stereotypically female job but no pronouns mentioned!

word count: 2.4k // read on ao3

a/n: title inspired by the alicia keys song ofc. thank you to the lovely @kennedysbaby for the prompt inspo and endless support while writing this! this isn't my usual writing style so i'm kinda nervous AHGH but i thought it was cute LMAO. i <3 u!!

From: howtodept@starsweek.com To: lskennedy@raccoonmag.com 

Subject: You Don’t Know My Name

Dear Mr. Kennedy,

I hope this email never finds you well. 

No, no, that came out wrong, I swear! Gosh, I’m not sure how to work the backspace on these new computers. What I mean to say is that I hope this email never finds you.

I’m the new hire for the How To column at STARS Week magazine. They haven’t quite set up an email address with my name yet: I’m using the one readers mail their questions to. It’s a bit of a blessing to not have my name attached to this mortifying message now that I think about it. 

You must be wondering, why does an Agony Aunt columnist from your media rival have your email in the first place? You, the top photojournalist at Raccoon Mag, the highlight of all newsstands. You must think I’m crazy. 

But the thing is that I think you’re simply wonderful.

You visited our office last week. Surely you remember walking into the great big glass doors of the STARS building. Aren’t they glamorous? They make me feel like a hotshot movie journalist when really I just write back to teenage girls and help them pick out the right nail color, or tell middle-aged moms how to dress less like they rolled out of an outdated Sears catalog. I’m eternally grateful to get to work here – Ms. Hunnigan really did a favor taking me on – but I can’t help feeling like a bird with its wings clipped, stuck in a glass cage. I could be doing so much more with my talents. And don’t tell me that I already am; I know my advice articles don’t work because my own mom still wears stripes with polka dots.

Yeesh.

So when you came by last week with your great big camera filled with pictures of all your travels around the world, you caught my eye right away. 

You weren’t wearing a suit like all the other big shots in the STARS office. Mr. Kennedy, you came to what Ms. Hunnigan would consider “the biggest business risk of your life” dressed in a polo and slacks, still looking sharper than our Man of the Month, with not a word extra to say because your photos spoke for themselves.

Mr. Kennedy, I was working my measly little column when I overheard Ms. Hunnigan’s surprise at your refusal to take a dime for the photojournalism you brought to our office. Your manila folder was filled with pictures from a recently hurricane-hit island, one I’m embarrassed to say I only learned of from your spirited tirade. You didn’t care that Raccoon Mag and STARS Week were sworn enemies. All you cared about was combining readers’ donations for disaster relief. I thought it was mighty noble of you.

You didn’t flinch once at Ms. Hunnigan’s unforgiving stare and I know how hard that can be because I got the same one when I asked to switch to a journalism department instead. Ms. Hunnigan isn’t too keen on putting effort where there isn’t turnover. But you came anyway, and you left victorious simply because you wanted to help people that badly.

I think you can assume why I scrapped my article this week about getting over crushes. There’s going to be a horribly empty space in my column if I don’t figure out how to type something other than your name soon. Hence this email. 

(You left your business card on Ms. Hunnigan’s desk, if you’re still wondering how I’m sending this to the right email address. I’m not too shabby at snooping around, in a journalism kind of way, of course.)

I don’t think this counts as getting over a crush. I don’t suppose you have any ideas?

Yours sincerely, You Don’t Know My Name

> Saved as Draft (7/7/2003)

> Continue Saved Draft? YES

From: howtodept@starsweek.com To: lskennedy@raccoonmag.com

Dear Mr. Kennedy,

Did you see the smiles of the children who got their school rebuilt thanks to your disaster relief proposal? I’m sure you did: their pictures, along with all the other photos from the donation effort, got printed front and center on this week’s issue! I nearly sold out the newsstand from all the Raccoon Mag copies I bought the morning they came off the press. Had to hide them from Ms. Hunnigan too; she wasn’t too happy about my less-than-juicy column last week. 

But that’s not for you to worry about, Mr. Kennedy. I’ll figure something else out. Like what color fabric makes your eyes pop, subtle ways to tell a coworker you’re interested in more than just drinks after work, what to eat to look and feel your best in less than two weeks.

On a completely unrelated note, I can’t help but look forward to when you come back to STARS Week in less than a month (according to Ms. Hunnigan’s desk calendar).

You’ve inspired me to get back into journalism; put my degree to use. I didn’t graduate top of my class just to tell people what hairstyle goes with what neckline! I’m clumsy with cameras and not too nifty with technology (I still can’t figure out where that backspace key is!) but I’m a sure hand with a pen. I go to the library after work now and spend hours researching global issues to write about when I get home. My collection of research articles is coming right along. Kind of like your manila folder. I flatter myself.

I wonder what you write, what you read. What makes Leon Kennedy laugh? What does he read before bed, what makes him think? I wonder if we laugh at the same bad jokes. 

Email is a strange mode of communication. There’s an awful lot of dishonesty involved. You get to pick and choose what you leave out. I suppose I don’t get that luxury with my lack of backspace, but it’s the same in conversation when you don’t get to backtrack on what comes out of your mouth. Would it be silly of me to dream that I’m having a conversation with you like this? Through my keyboard?

I’d much rather hear you in conversation, I have to admit. You’ve got a lovely voice. The rest of us are just lucky you decided to use it for good and speak out about the problems of the world despite what may or may not sell (sorry, Ms. Hunnigan). I might even be lucky enough to hear my name fall from your lips one day. Are…oh gosh, this is making me shy. Damn you, backspace key. But I wonder what it feels like to kiss you, Mr. Kennedy. 

I hear tying cherry stems with your tongue makes you a good kisser. I’ll be sure to learn. Maybe if we ever hit the town and we get drinks, I could show you? I’m not even sure what kind of drinks have cherries on top. That’s more a milkshake or ice cream thing. I’d be delighted to get either with you; I even know a trick to cure brain freeze in a second! I hope that’s incentive enough. I’m quite partial to cookie dough if you’d like to share. Not so much if you’re a fan of rum raisin.

And then over ice cream, we could talk about everything under the sun. Your pictures, my writing, bad jokes, good jokes, your favorite rom-coms, important questions like that.

(I’m kidding, promise. The rom-com one is important though. I hope you understand.)

There so much I’d love to talk to you about. But for now, I’m content with sitting in my cubicle in the corner, hiding behind my potted plant and hoping for a glimpse of your golden hair through Ms. Hunnigan’s office doors when you come by. But as all good things must come to an end, here comes the end of this email to my Raccoon Mag Romeo. 

Looking forward to your nonexistent response, You Don’t Know My Name

> Saved as Draft (8/12/2003)

> Continue Saved Draft? YES

From: howtodept@starsweek.com To: lskennedy@raccoonmag.com

Dear Mr. Kennedy,

You used to be in the police academy before you worked for Raccoon Mag? 

Gosh, I hope my snooping doesn’t come off untoward, truly, I don’t mean to – it’s just that you’ve been coming to STARS Week so frequently this month and you didn’t visit in the last few days and…well, I missed seeing you. So it seems I’m remedying that with novice-level stalker work. Er, journalism. 

I’m marvelously impressed by you is all. Your sense of justice runs deeper than I thought. I wonder what made you choose this line of work instead of the force? 

For what it’s worth, digging up your past work introduced me to several fascinating topics. If Ms. Hunnigan lets up on her workload, she might even have time to look at the piece I’ve been drafting all month! You’ve inspired me in more ways than one, Mr. Kennedy, so you understand why I’m eager to see you again in the hope of showing you what I’ve written. I could slip my article into your folder, leave it in an envelope next to the cup of coffee you always let cool on the receptionist’s desk before going into the copy room…

But there might not be a point avoiding you anymore. I’m afraid you’ll run into me sooner than later with the number of errands Ms. Hunnigan sends me on around the office.

Worse yet, I think someone’s caught on to me. 

Claire from Sports is starting to ask about all these emails I type up while my How To assignment of the week sits by its lonesome next to my potted plant. I wish these keyboards weren’t so loud and cranky! They rattle up a storm when I type these emails to you, but turn quiet as mice when it comes time for me to work on my dreadful How Tos. Snitches get stitches, don’t you know?

But I’d never snitch on you, Mr. Kennedy. A tiny part of me hopes you’ve caught on to who hides an extra donut in the fridge for you from our office breakfasts. Rest assured that I can do much better than slightly stale office donuts, though. 

So if that ice cream date doesn’t work out, we could head downtown to Marvin’s on a Thursday for the best chocolate donuts I swear you’ve ever tasted. Thursday is when they bake them up fresh and I know a table by the street where the sunset looks the prettiest. A treat for you and a treat for your camera, how’s that? 

You don’t even know what you’re doing to me. I feel all crazy inside, giddy and smiling over my research like unpaid overtime I’m all too happy to take on. I really hope to show you my article soon. There’s nothing more romantic to a journalist than setting your facts straight next to somebody who smiles like the sun, like you, Mr. Kennedy. I might even dream of my article being printed next to your pictures one day.

But as short as today’s email to you might be, I hope our time together isn’t. The security team is redoing the How To department’s computers after Ms. Hunnigan’s keyboard started acting up – something about manufacturing issues. Remember that pesky backspace key of mine? They’re fixing it later today! 

Actually, they’re fixing it right now. The team’s coming over to my desk, so I’m going to have to enDKJJL

> Send Email? SFHALFNO

> Input detected. Email sending… NJOS NON DON”T SEND 

> Email sent successfully! (9/16/2003)

From: lskennedy@raccoonmag.com To: howtodept@starsweek.org

Subject: RE: You Don’t Know My Name

I’m submitting an answer for July’s How To: how do I get over a crush?

If I’m being honest, I’ve written and rewritten this email a fair number of times. I’m not good with my words. That’s why I take pictures: they say everything I leave unspoken. But it’s also why I’ve grown so fond of a certain How To columnist because they’re not afraid to put their feelings to pen, rather, keyboard. 

It’s just a shame that their name isn’t on any of the sweet emails they sent me. And it’s not like I can just go up to my boss and ask. If I’m their Raccoon Mag Romeo (see what I mean when I say they’ve got a way with words?), they’re the Capulet I’m after. 

So I took a page out of my admirer’s book and went snooping. It’s what a journalist does best, right? 

Marvin’s an old friend of mine. I went to his shop last Thursday to find out who comes for donuts and stays for the sunset. His donuts taste better than the office ones for sure, but there’s something a little sweeter about the thought behind the latter. FYI: my lips are sealed.

All this donut and ice cream business makes me think my admirer’s got a sweet tooth. I’m willing to share any ice cream that isn’t rum raisin either. Cookie dough is a close second to my personal favorite – mint chocolate chip – but that brain freeze trick is enough to convince me to have both. What do you say we try out all the flavors? You might even come across a scoop to write about, you never know. (RE: your question about bad jokes, how was that?)

And last but not least, Claire from STARS Week Sports isn’t too tight-lipped. She was perfectly charming when I asked about any deskmates with clunky keyboards who’ve been quite busy recently, so it really wasn’t that hard to find out who this kind, endearing, and incredibly talented admirer of mine is. 

You needn’t sneak your article into my folder because I found a copy of it on your desk with my name written on the bottom. You say you’ve only been working on this since I came for the disaster relief deal? That’s only two months!

Color me impressed. Ms. Hunnigan would be a fool to miss out on the untapped talent sitting in her How To department, so I think it would be a great idea to bring your article to her together. I’d be honored to straighten out any facts with you, though I doubt there’s much I can add to what you’ve compiled. My camera is at your disposal.

Let’s talk details over those donuts, then? It’s Thursday. I’ll wait by the bench outside the STARS building. I have a feeling it’ll be a nice change from sending emails. 

Yours sincerely (and I do know your name), Leon

(P.S. Personally, I hope this isn’t a crush you need to get over.)

(9/18/2003)

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[firstprinceofhearts]

In looking for more HANDS content, I gave this scene in the blooper reel a little more attention than I had previously and now I have thoughts...

I'm assuming that the raspberry part wasn't scripted, hence it being a blooper and not a deleted scene (although I wouldn't be surprised if Alex actually did do that - and the reaction could just as easily be Henry's as Nick's), but regardless, Alex straddling Henry and macking on his neck presumably was part of the original script, and I'd love to know what this scene was supposed to be.

The set is quite clearly the Paris hotel room, but since it's during daylight hours, I can only assume it takes place the morning after (where there is indeed a scene omitted from the final script).

I'm guessing that Alex is about to leave for the airport (you can see his case waiting for him by the door), hence why he's dressed and Henry isn't yet, so perhaps this scene would have made up part of their farewell? Alex unable to bring himself to depart without ravishing his boyfriend one more time? In fact, I can absolutely see him stealing every last second with Henry that he can, especially when all that's standing between him and Henry's naked body is a fuzzy robe.

The thing is, though, I can't tell you how much I love that this time Henry is the one in a state of undress while Alex is fully clothed, shoes, jacket and all. (No, you still haven't got over Henry's wardrobe choices in Alex's bedroom - I mean, seriously? Jacket? Bow tie? Sort it out, Henry.)

Of course, there are a bunch of times throughout the film when Henry is somewhere private and so is a little more casual than he would ever be in public, but in general he does give off a proper-at-all-times vibe that Alex doesn't. Whether that's because Alex is actually dressed more casually in a given scene or if it's because his suits are always more fashionable and fitted, making him look less stuffy and formal (my friend's hatred of double breasted jackets has really started to rub off on me), the only scene I can actually think of where Alex is more smartly dressed than Henry is at the polo match and Henry is in his kit then, so I don't think that really counts.

Basically, I don't think Alex is ever dressed more formally than Henry, so I really, really love the reversal here. I know they're in private, so it's not all that different to the other times we see Henry dressed down in some way, but there's something about the contrast of his bathrobe opposite Alex's jacket and trousers that really does it for me.

[auras-moonstone]

Ethan Landry x reader where her family forgot her birthday so she has to spend her birthday alone until he gives her a gift with a card that says happy birthday or something like that

forget about the heartbreaks — ethan landry

word count: 2,039

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: when ethan comes home to a heartbroken y/n, he does his best to make her forget about the awful birthday fiasco.

warnings: lots of fluff and cheesiness, you’ve been warned.

Y/N HAD BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO HER 20TH BIRTHDAY DINNER FOR WEEKS. She had invited her parents for dinner at her apartment, and she was beyond excited. They hadn’t seen each other for months, as Y/N moved to New York to study and they stayed in California.

Starting in a new city alone, at such a young age was very hard for Y/N. She had made an amazing group of friends, yes, but she couldn’t help but feel homesick. She missed her mother’s warm hugs and her father’s calming smile. Hence why she had been counting the days until the day came.

She felt her roommate’s gaze on her when she walked out of her room. “Hey, Eth.”

“Hi. I was just about to head to Chad’s. I wanted to see you before I go.”

“Sorry I’m kicking you out of the dorm.” she said guiltily.

“You didn’t kick me. I was the one who suggest you invite your parents for dinner. And it’s only for a couple of hours, Y/N/N. It’s no big deal.” he assured her. “You look beautiful, by the way. I told you red was your color.”

Y/N laughed, remembering Ethan’s look of relief when she got out of the dressing rom with a satisfying smile on her face, letting him know they had finally found the right dress—which was the one he had chosen. “I still can believe you picked up this one.”

“What does that mean?!” he asked offended.

“Eth, you have the same polo shirts in different colors. And you wear flannel jackets.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Ethan crossed his arms.

“You have no sense of style, Eth.” Y/N said, and he put his hands on his chest dramatically, as if she had just wounded him. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t mean you don’t pull off polo shirts. You look amazing in them.”

“That actually makes me feel better.” he said, trying not to let her know how much he liked being complimented by her. “Anyways, I better go. Your parents should be here at any moment.”

“Thank you so much, Ethan. Really. For helping me cook, for going shopping with me, for baking the cake with me.” she hugged him tightly, enjoying the way she could hear his heartbeats accelerating as he hugged her back.

“Anything for you” he mumbled against her hair. “Save me some cake, okay?”

“Of course.”

“Have fun.” he shouted right before the door shut close.

Once she finished setting the table, Y/N pulled out her phone to check on her parents. She noticed the texts she had sent that afternoon hadn’t been answered yet. She supposed it had been because they had been on the plane, but they should’ve landed hours ago. So she decided to call.

“Hi, mom. Finally. I sent you and dad lots of texts. What happened?” Y/N said as her mother picked up.

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. We just landed.” the sweet voice of her mother said.

“Just now? I thought you were flying in the morning.” Y/N said confused.

“We did! It’s a long flight, honey. You know that.”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “Mom, what are you talking about?” she laughed confused. “It’s only five hours by plane.”

“What?“ she bursted out laughing. Y/N heard the sound of her father’s voice asking his wife what was wrong with her. “Your daughter is being funny.”

“You are being funny, mom. Where are you both?” Y/N asked, losing her patience.

“London, honey. Your father has a business trip, I thought we told you.” the woman said.

Y/N’s body went still. She must have misheard her, or her mother must have been joking. “Very funny, mom. Cut it.”

“Are you okay? You’re acting weird.” the sound of a car horn was heard. “Oh, the cab just arrived. Honey, I’m sorry but we have to get to the hotel.”

“Come on, mom. Stop it. It isn’t funny anymore.” Y/N said, her voice broke a bit. She held onto the hope that it was all just one twisted joke, that her parents were actually about to burst through the door, with a ‘Baby, we’re right here’ smile, and she would be so happy.

“Are you about to cry? What’s wrong?” the concern on her mother’s voice made Y/N angry.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. Just that my parents forgot they were supposed to be here with me, for my birthday.” she said bitterly.

A gasp of realization followed by heavy breathing was heard on the line. No words were muttered. “Y/N…”

“I told you how much I needed you both to be here. I don’t even care that it was my birthday. It was just an excuse to make you both come to New York, because I know that only a special occasion can make you two take a break from work. I clearly overestimated you.”

“I’m sorry… we’re sorry” her dad sighed. Y/N assumed she had been on speaker.

“I’m sorry too. Hope you have fun in London.” she ended the call and the tears fell down like a cascade. She looked around the room, seeing the plates perfectly arranged around the vase containing roses, and felt a pang in her heart.

Weeks of anticipation and hours of preparation went to waste. She never would’ve guessed she would end up on the floor of her living room, all alone, crying because the ones who meant the most to her didn’t show to her birthday.

Y/N didn’t know how long she had spent crying her heart out, but she guessed it had been too long because the tears stopped falling and she felt completely exhausted and weak, her head hurt and her eyes felt tired. And she also heard the front door open, meaning Ethan had arrived.

She hid her face in the pillow, not wanting him to see what a mess she was.

“Is the birthday girl tired from one dinner? I think my grandma has more energy than you” he joked. She still didn’t look up. “I know you’re not sleeping, dork. I saw you hiding your face.” after a few seconds of silence, Ethan pulled the pillow away and his teasing smile fell at the sight of her puffy red eyes, the dry tears on her cheeks and her saddened gaze. “Y/N/N…“

The tears were streaming down her face again before she could even open her mouth. Ethan instantly pulled her into his arms, and it wasn’t until that moment that she realized how much she needed that.

The feeling of his arms made her heart warm up a bit, the familiarity of his sweet cologne calmed her down, which allowed her to finally speak, “They forgot, Eth.”

Ethan’s body went still, and the only reason why he didn’t grab her phone and dial Y/N’s parents number to scream at them for having hurt her, was because that was the last thing Y/N needed right now.

“I know that no matter what I do, I won’t be able to make this the best birthday you ever had. But I want you to at least enjoy the last hours of your day, so I promise I’ll try my best to make you a little bit happier.” he said before running to his room. He came back a couple of seconds later, hands behind his back. “I know you have been wanting one of these for a long time.”

Ethan sat next to her again, handing her the wrapped box. She gave him a little smile, and took the card that was attached to the ribbon.

so you can capture the things you like :)

happy birthday to the best friend (and roommate) in the world!

love, eth x

The tidy handwriting and the three little hearts scribbled at the very corner of the note made her want to cry of cuteness. If she had any more tears in her system, she would have done it.

“You’re the sweetest, Eth.” she kissed his cheek and he became a whole blushing mess. She saw the mark she left on his skin and laughed. “Oops, I forgot I was wearing red lipstick.”

“It’s okay… now open it. You’re killing me!” Ethan said excitingly.

Laughing at his excitement, she opened the box and her wide-eyed gaze fell on him. “Holy shit, Ethan!”

“You like it?” Ethan asked with a huge grin. He was happy by her change of mood. Seeing her in such devastating state literally broke his heart into a million pieces.

“I love it. Thank you so much.” she placed the Instant Camera he gifted her on the box to pull him into a long and warm hug. “Not only for the camera, but for everything. You make me really happy, and I’m glad I got to spend my birthday with you.”

He smiled at her and then leaned in to whisper “Happy birthday, Y/N/N.”

“Thank you, Eth.” she answered softly.

“Now, let’s test your camera” his smile even bigger than before. Y/N couldn’t help but break into one too—it was impossible not to, Ethan had the most contagious and beautiful smile in the world. It was so breathtaking and heartwarming that it needed to be captured. So she did. “I didn’t mean test it on me!” he laughed.

Y/N looked at the polaroid on her hand. Her attention wasn’t caught by Ethan’s perfect white and straight teeth, or by his gorgeous brown eyes that reflected happiness, or by his adorable wrinkles in the corner of his eyes. It was caught by the scarlet mark on his cheek, with the shape of her lips. A swarm of butterflies invaded her stomach, she liked him so much it hurt.

“The note said I should capture the things I like… so I did.” he looked at Y/N in complete shock for a moment, and then his face lit up like a christmas tree, and Y/N could sense the lingering question. “I mean it. I like you, Eth. As more than a best friend.”

Ethan reached his arm out to take her hand and pulled her into him. “I like you too.” he said right before pressing his soft lips against her crimson ones. “Let me see the picture.” Ethan said when they got out of the dizzying state that the consuming kisses left them in.

“You’re so gorgeous, did I ever tell you that?” Y/N asked as she watched him observe the polaroid.

“No, you didn’t” Ethan’s blood rushed into his cheeks.

“Well, you are. And if you blush that prettily every time I compliment you, then I’m never stopping.” she whispered, pressing kisses all over his face, leaving red marks everywhere. She took another picture. “I’m also never going to stop taking pictures of you, just so you know.”

“You’re so cheesy.” Ethan rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips went up.

“It’s actually your fault, you know?”

“How?”

“First of all, you are so amazing that you leave me no choice but to fall for you. And then, you gift me a camera. You brought it on yourself.” she shrugged and his sweet laugh invaded her ears, making her heart go wild.

“Cheesy.” he repeated. “Come here and cuddle me.”

When Y/N settled her head on his chest, Ethan stretched the arm that wasn’t wrapped around her waist and grabbed the camera. He pressed his cheek against the top of her head and they both smiled.

“I bet that was awful, you have the worst pulse.” Y/N said, raising her head to see the picture he had just taken, but Ethan wouldn’t let her. “Eth!”

“Wait a second” he searched for the pen on his pocket and started writing something on the polaroid.

“Why do you have a pen on your pocket?” Y/N laughed.

“So I can write my number when girls ask for it.” Ethan replied, trying not to laugh when Y/N sent him a glare. “I’m kidding” he chuckled.

“You’re the worst.” she scoffed.

The curly-haired boy pressed a kiss on her shoulder before handing her the polaroid. On the white frame, the words in black ink read ‘Be my gf, Y/N/N?’

‘I’d love to, Eth’, she replied underneath.

She showed him the polaroid and they both smiled at each other “Cheesy” she repeated his words.

“We’re a match made in heaven.” Ethan said.

“We really are.”

[romysradio]

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - R.C.

summary - No one understands what you see in Rafe

warnings - not proofread, Rafe being Rafe?, mentions of alcohol, fighting (barely)

wc - 537

A/N - I'm back from the dead!!! I’ve been wanting to write for the last few months but I was feeling so uninspired hence the lack of content. Anyway, I don't love how this came out but I've been listening to TTPD a lot recently and I finally had the teeniest tiniest bit of inspiration and needed to take advantage of it so here it is lol

The dining room of the Island Club was filled with quiet chatter, a few parties scattered among the tables. Your freshly manicured fingers gently twisted the stem of your cocktail glass, your eyes tracing the forming beads of condensation as you absentmindedly listened to the conversation between two of your girlfriends. Glancing across the room to the bar, Topper and Kelce laughed boisterously at something your boyfriend said, no doubt something vulgar and indecent. 

Arrogance rolled off him in waves, his lack of consideration for his surroundings was evident. However, you couldn’t help the heat pooling between your legs. The signet ring adorning Rafe’s index finger gleamed as he lifted a glass of whiskey to his pink lips. His blue polo shirt, the one you had picked out for him, clung to his toned chest and arms.

You had been at the club for hours, having played a few matches of tennis with your friends in the morning before getting a late lunch while Rafe and his buddies played 18 holes. It was nearing dinner time, the horizon painted a kaleidoscope of reds, pinks, and oranges, and you were ready to call it a day. A soft sigh left your lips as you turned back to the conversation at the table, briefly catching your friends’ expressions as they traced your gaze to the men at the bar.

It was no secret your friends were not your boyfriend’s biggest fans. Sure, they would go to all of his house parties, snort his coke, drink his liquor, and go out on his boat when you invited them, but they weren’t exactly discreet about the fact that they thought you could do better than Rafe Cameron. They thought he was a spoiled, hotheaded drug addict, despite your best efforts to convince them otherwise.

They didn’t understand that you could fix him. They didn’t see the Rafe you saw. How passionate and hardworking he was, how gentle and considerate he could be when he wanted to. Your friends didn’t understand how deeply you two loved each other. Sure, Rafe could be a little rough around the edges, but people can change. Right?

“Anyway, you should have seen the skirt she was wearing, it was—“ your friend’s words were drowned out by a sudden commotion by the bar.

All three of your heads snapped in the direction of the noise, vision filling with Rafe’s towering form crowding a man sitting at the bar as they loudly exchanged heated words.

A dry chuckle fell from Rafe’s lips, his blue eyes narrowing. “You wanna say that one more time, buddy? Huh?” His strong arms quickly came up, shoving the older man off his chair.

You gasped at the interaction, quickly abandoning the table and rushing over to your boyfriend. The man began to raise his voice at Rafe when you tried to intervene, attempting to slot yourself in between them before things escalated further.

Your friends peeled their eyes from the unfolding mess in front of them to exchange a look, pity covering their features. “God help her.” One of them muttered as you apologized profusely to the other gentleman, trying to pull a still-yelling Rafe away from him and out of the room.

[luveline]

for shy fri, bodygaurd!james with a shy reader whose a crystal girl and hides crystals in his pockets to keep him safe like he does for them and he brings it up and reader gets all flustered pls🥺🥺

ty for your request! I hope this is okay <3 fem!reader

James can feel your hand in his pocket. He doesn't say a word, fighting to keep still, and to keep his eyebrows set in place when they want to jump halfway up his forehead. You drop something into his pocket with a small weight to it and then pull back your hand. You don't move away from him, the two of you patiently waiting for the car to arrive. 

With you safely seatbelted and locked into the backseat, he rounds the car to the passenger side and inconspicuously pulls the weight from his pocket. It's a small pink stone, a crystal, smooth to the touch. James thinks he knows you well by now, he knows all about your collections and your interests, but he doesn't know what this means. Not this particular stone. 

He finds himself with his hand in his pocket through your entire event. You dazzle without meaning to, shy and quiet but remarkably sweet smiled. You have to support all your father's events, it looks bad if you don't, and the only person who could ever tell how much they scare you is him. Him and your father, hence the bodyguard. 

"Hey," he says, when you've been left alone, a flute of champagne in your trembling hand. "Tired, angel?" 

You pass it to him and he pretends to take a sip before passing it back. 

"You know I can't drink that, I'm working." 

"I know," you say, smiling.

You shift from one foot and then the other. Your heels are hurting. He holds out an arm for you to lean on, and thankfully you take it. 

"So what's the rock?" 

Your hand is warm against his bicep, fingers curling tighter at his question. 

"It's a piece of rose quartz," you choke out.

"What's it do? Make me happier?" 

You look to the sea of people in front, refusing to meet his eye. "It's going to keep you safe. Hopefully." 

He pictures how the two of you look together. Your weight against his arm, your nice dress and his smart uniform, the one he wears for events like this, a mixed blend fabric that doesn't look as shabby as a polo but can withstand some extra stretching. You're dolled up and jewelled, he's kitted out with his radio, his fold out baton, and his emergency phone. You don't match one another, not one bit. 

He could say, oh, sweetheart, don't worry. And he could say, hey, it's not for you to worry about. But he says, "Thank you. I don't have one for you. A talisman to keep you safe." 

"You are my talisman, Jamie." 

He would give anything to kiss you on the cheek right now, just to see that shy scrunched up face you make. 

"Damn straight," he murmurs. 

Your cheek presses to his arm for a split second, a warm touch. 

[chibigrimmreaper]

*perking up and swiveling my ears* picrew chain?!?! :3333

soft mentions! @amyinmyheart @chemistry-sherlock-whatever @flowercrown-bard @lamoorgalore and again @halflostindreams

@ilexdiapason tagged me in a picrew chain!! i don't know picrew etiquette so i guess i am also making my own post :P

i like pretending i'm not allergic to cats and pretending i have wavy hair. in a better world, maybe...

tagging. um. wow i have mutuals!! @tmgstudios-main, @rainerhammond, and @jadejemdoesstuff. feel free to not do it if you don't want to!