#i don't even know why i liked him-he was just a mean ol kid

[delightfullygiddy]

You know, simply for thinkings sake, that nostalgia anime post got me wondering, did I or have I actually had a crush on any male anime characters in my lifetime? What would be the the traits that would make me be like- If he’s lines, I’m lines.

[generalsmemories]

To raise a child

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader ft. yanqing (platonic)

✧ based on the asks: 3 requests asking for a family fic with jing yuan and yanqing

✧ synopsis: raising a child is always hard, even when you're a long life species with a lot of experiences.

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, found family trope (a.k.a my one weakness with every media), yanqing & reader have a slight rocky start, mentions of other characters, sentences in italics are readers thoughts.

✧ a/n: i'm not gonna chuck angst into a found family trope unless i feel particulary miserable, they just gonna have a good ole time being parents to a yanqing from when he was a wee babie to the lieutenant he is today - also a lot of this is my own interpretation SINCE I DON'T GET A CRUMB ON HOW THE HELL THIS MAN FOUND MY BABY. not beta-ed like usual i'm sorry.

The first time you were told about Yanqing's existence was when you were not onboard Luofu, which honestly made the first meeting between the two of you a lot worse.

"... Pardon, he found what now while I'm away?" you stare bewildreded at the messenger before you while clutching the letter Jing Yuan had written to you - you can practically hear his easy-going voice resound in your head through the words before you.

"What do you mean he suddenly picked up a whole child?!"

Safe to say that the Luofu were turned upside down by the time you came back to the ship. Rumours spread amongst the citizens, gossip between the storytellers and the newsboard retelling the latest news and constantly updating on any new "information" they had gotten.

To say you got stopped at every corner before you even stepped foot back in land was an understatement. You practically had a crowd waiting for you - it was only by the assistance of Yukong that you had managed to worm yourself out of the crowd and hightail home.

Maybe it's because Jing Yuan knew you would come home first, or maybe it's because he was aware that you had a lot of questions for him. Which was why you had gotten a text prior to landing with the single message of:

"Decided to take the day off today <3"

Safe to say he was left on read.

"Jing Yuan, what has gotten into you-" are the first words that leaves your mouth when you slam your entrance doors open, only for your eyes to widen when Jing Yuan is already waiting for you at the foyer. Hands behind his back and sporting his signature smile, but your gaze isn't at your lover before you.

Rather it was on the smaller child that was hiding behind his legs, he was by no means scared of your sudden appearance you noticed. Rather, he was sizing you up and down with a fierce gaze, almost like a lion cub who had just found its first prey.

The glare made your previous anger and confusion fade into a more surprised shock, rendering you speechless on how to proceed further. Jing Yuan steps in after seeing your anger dissipate upon seeing the fierce boy, raising a hand to ruffle Yanqing's hair before he directs his gaze back to you who is still staring at Yanqing in mild surprise.

"He's a feisty one isn't he?" is what he utters softly, and it's the slight exhaustion in his voice that causes you to let your guard down and put aside your confusion and need for answers aside.

Right now there's a young child before you, a child that you don't know the lineage of - but a child that Jing Yuan himself had picked up and stood his ground against public opinion for.

And Jing Yuan didn't do things without reason.

But you're well aware that he's also the kind to not tell you much as to why he had done a few decisions. As futile as you know it is, you would still try to get something out of him later. But for now, you would have to try to give a better impression of yourself to this kid who you're pretty sure sees you as anything, but a person with good intentions.

... What do you say to a child that is currently holding animosity towards you?

Seeing your distraught face makes Jing Yuan let out a chuckle, glancing down at Yanqing who is still staring fiercly at you, "They're not someone you should be on guard with. That's my spouse, they're just surprised by your sudden arrival is all, Yanqing."

So his name is Yanqing.

The reassurance from Jing Yuan makes the young boy relax a bit, but you can still tell he's very much on guard against you, "... I'm Yanqing," he mutters quietly.

The two of you seem to have a long way to go from the first encounter.

"... What were you thinking?" you question the moment Jing Yuan slides the door to your bedroom shut, you had spent the majority of the afternoon cleaning up a spare room for Yanqing to sleep in after the meeting while the two had headed out to prepare the paperwork for Yanqing to be offcially be recgonized as a Cloud Knight.

"... I saw potential?" he tries, but with one glance at your direction and being faced with your quirked eyebrow makes him let out a sigh instead, reaching a hand behind his head to pull the red ribbon tying his hair back.

He doesn't say anything as he makes his way over to you. Neither does he utter a word when he lets his entire weight fall on top of your own, the noise of surprise you let out making him chuckle, rubbing his face onto neck, "W-Wait, hold on. There's a literal child in this house now, what are you-"

"Dear, what are you thinking?" Jing Yuan snorts before you finish your sentence, wrapping his arms around your waist before flipping himself over so that you're laying on top of him, "Our schedule clashed together too much that it's been 2 years since I last saw you? And when I meet you again you looked like you were going to pull my head off of my own body, this is quite frankly the first instance where I get you all to myself," he explains, raising an eyebrow at your gradually reddening face, "Whatever you were imagining is beyond me, darling."

"... Shut up and tell me the truth already," you murmur before burying your face in his chest, lifting a closed fist to lightly hit his arm when you feel his chest rumble with his constrained laughter.

"I didn't lie when I said I saw potential. Despite his young age, Yanqing is quite gifted with the sword," he starts after a brief silence, fingers drumming along the spine of your back, "But it would be more accurate to say I'm preparing the future generation?" he muses out loud, sounding unsure himself which makes let out a chuckle, "Wow, I'm sure lady Fu Xuan would be delighted by the news of your possible retirement."

"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint our Master Diviner for another few decades unfortunately. She's still far too young to take up the mantle of the general."

You hum, raising your head up from his chest to make eye contact, Jing Yuan directing his gaze from staring up at the ceiling to instead stare at you as well, "Next time you're thinking of picking up a kid, give me a heads up? Or else you're going to end up on the news again like today with the headlines of you committing infidelity."

He laughs, hoisting you further up his body to peck your lips, "Please, I won't be picking up another child anytime soon. But maybe I need to show the citizens that I only have eyes for one person if they were swayed this easily by the apperance of one child."

"... Please don't say something that embarassing in front of Yanqing."

"See, you're already being a great parental figure."

Great parental figure my ass.

Is what's currently running through your mind as you're once again, left alone with Jing Yuan's prodigal apprentince. it's been a few months after Yanqing's first arrival, and the relationship between the two of you seem to still be threading on thin ice.

Your relationship with the young prodigy hasn't gotten worse, but it has in no way improved either. Whenever Jing Yuan is not present amongst the three of you, Yanqing becomes extra reserved and takes extra caution to not bother you - which makes any attempt to even talk to him 10 times harder than it has to be.

Yanqing is out in the garden, brushing the fallen leaves into a neat pile while you're sitting by the living room table doing paperwork. And yet, ever since Jing Yuan had stepped out for some urgent business, the two of you haven't even spoken a single word to each other.

Yanqing was at an age where you didn't need to give him constant attention, but with the way you two had started on the wrong foot it felt a lot harder trying to get closer to him - mostly because the boy himself tries to not be a burden on you, which in a way has become a burden.

Not to mention, Jing Yuan spends the most time with him training him personally - so the time you spend with Yanqing is close to nothing compared to your lover.

The odds are truly against you at the moment.

At this point, the new paper scroll that you had rolled out were becoming useless with how long you had pressed the ink filled brush on it's surface, the gradual circle of ink stained paper growing with each passing minute.

Topics you can talk about.. Jing Yuan mentioned he was great with a sword, but it's been ages since I've held a sword myself till the point he's probably better than me...

Were you always this awkward with children?

Glancing at the clock, you notice it's almost time for your meetup with master Gongshu over at the Artisanship Commission. So with a reluctant sigh, you glance down at the paper scroll before you - that has long been ruined before you put the brush away and roll the scroll back up.

"... Yanqing I'm about to head to out to the Artisanship Commission, can you..." your voice dies down when you see the boy whip his head around the moment you mention the Commission. And although he tries to hide it, you would be a fool to not notice the sparkle in his eyes at the mention of where you are going.

"... Do you want to join?" you end up asking instead.

You've never seen his facial expression change so much in just a few seconds. First you could tell he wanted to agree, but then you're pretty sure he managed to figure out why you were going and didn't want to be a burden, but still wanted to go. You soon saw hope come back to his eyes, presumably remembering that you personally asked, but you saw the same hope dwindle down when he probably thought that you asked just to include him.

The sight made you laugh, "... A child is a child after all, no matter where they are," you whisper quietly to yourself, "You won't be a bother, Yanqing. And wouldn't it be better for you to look around the Luofu a bit? I'm pretty sure Jing Yuan has only brought you to the Cloud Knights training area after all, we can even stop by Cloudbreath Sleeves to take your measurements so that you can get some tailor-made clothes and not Jing Yuan's old clothes."

That seemed to be the only reassurance he needed.

You're pretty sure Yanqing hasn't noticed that your meeting with master Gongshu ended 15 minutes ago. Neither has he seemed to realize that the two of you have spent the next 15 minutes just observing his every reaction to the swords on display.

His eyes seemed particulary glued to an iridescent blue sword with a black handle, master Gongzhu giving a low whistle beside you, "He's got a good eye."

You roll your eyes, "Send me the invoice later," you reply back before stepping towards the awestruck boy, "Why not bring it home with us?" you ask, Yanqing jumping slightly in surprise, his head turning around with widened eyes, "I can't possibly ask that of you, I can just save up-"

"You're staring at it like it's your first love, Yanqing," you chuckle, reaching out to grab the handle, twirling it around before reaching for the scabbard right underneath where it was displayed - sliding the sword inside.

"Consider it a gift, for future endeavours."

He blinks, taking the scabbard from your hands, staring at the intricate design weaved into the metal - and you notice the faint tears forming at the corners of his eyes before the boy leaps into your arms to give you a hug, "I swear I'll treasure it, thank you!"

Perhaps too shocked by the sudden hug, you fail to realize that master Gongshu had quickly snapped a picture of the scene and sending it to a certain general.

Qingzu had to stop the very same general from storming away from the Divine of Foresight to head to the Artisanship Commission the very next minute.

"... Well the two of you seem to have gotten a lot closer these past few months," Jing Yuan comments the moment he noticed the position you were currently in. You merely glared halfheartedly at him, but Jing Yuan made no effort to help you - instead walking over to bend down to peck your forehead, careful to not wake the child asleep on top of you.

"I told him to head home before me since I still had affairs to tend to, didn't think he would immediately collapse on top of you and doze off," Jing Yuan remarks with a laugh.

You had one hand supporting Yanqing weight on top of you so that he doesn't topple over, so you decide to use your other hand to reach over and flick Jing Yuan on the forhead - a flick he moved away from with a smirk, "He just dozed off mid-talk too. He was talking about your recent spar match before he just fell asleep," you say, "And to think he vehemently denied not needing a nap after a training session because he's not a child."

Jing Yuan lets out another laugh at that, effortlessly wrangling Yanqing away from your hold and hoisting him up in his arms without manaing to wake him up, "Well if you treat him like an adult, he'll show the temperament of a child as well."

"You should try to get some rest as well, dear. We can just order something from Aurum Alley later," Jing Yuan suggests, to which you merely nod to, standing up to stretch your limbs, "Join me then, I'm sure our dozing general is quite tired too."

"My, what an alluring offer. Can I assume that there's something more-"

"Don't push your luck."

here's the 3 requests that wanted a family fic - i actually struggled a bit with how to do this, but alas - i just know future me will conjure something up again so have this as a teaser HAHA

[novantinuum]

Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning

I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.

Let's take a look:

Gem Glow

"Awesome! What are these things?"

Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.

Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:

The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.

The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-

Laser Light Canon

"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."

Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.

At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.

And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...

"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"

And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.

"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"

Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.

I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.

Cheeseburger Backpack

So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)

Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."

"Yeah... they can't all be winners."

This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-

Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.

Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.

Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.

Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:

This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.

Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.

Together Breakfast

"What's the matter, Steven?" "I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..." "Oh, that's nice..."

Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.

Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.

I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.

The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.

If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?

These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'

"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"

And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.

"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"

Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.

__

So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.

One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.

Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.

Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.

Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.

In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'

Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.

When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.

In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.

But they don't care.

Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.

With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.

And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...

No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.

[m3talmunson]

It started with babes. Babes is completely platonic right? Nothing out of the ordinary there. Eddie was known for being over dramatic, why would nicknames -or in this case, pet names- be any different?

Babes wasn't even that over the top, so why was Steve blushing like a school girl after it was said in passing?

Steve definitely knew why, although, he was going to pretend he didn't. But he knew, about himself, about Eddie. A couple months after spring break '86 Steve had a very enlightening talk with Robin about his feelings. Towards Munson. Those completely and totally platonic feelings.

And a couple weeks later, as though Eddie was so in tune with Steve's discovery, Eddie came out to Steve at a campfire with Robin and Nance. Those two had wandered off, Eddie made some comment about "Good for Robs," before realizing his mistake. That was, until Steve said "Yeah, good for Robs," and Eddie just had to ask.

"You know about her? Y'know..."

"What? Eddie? Of course! She's my best friend."

"And you're ok with it?" Eddie was kind of shocked. Great 'King' Steve wasn't going to sick the dogs on Hawkins Local Lesbian? And it seemed like he had known longer than Eddie?

"Yeah, when you survive hell and back enough it's pretty hard to hate anyone for being gay." Steve left off the part where he was also into guys. He knew Eddie was ok with that, clearly ok with Robin, but Eddie might not be ok with being the guy Steve was into.

"Oh. Well," Eddie didn't know if it was the couple beers he had downed, or his newfound safety with this big ol' group of misfits, but he was comfortable asking Steve, "What if I was like Robin too?"

"Are you?" Steve asked. He wasn't going to get his hopes up over hypotheticals, but he could admit he had feelings for the older boy. He wasn't sure what feelings to be honest,but he was figuring that out as he went. He just knew they were more than platonic.

"Well, technically I'm the opposite of Robin, y'know. Not attracted to women. But yeah, I am." Eddie stared into the camp fire, torn between hoping that it would eat him alive, or that it would simply stare back.

"Okay, thanks for trusting me." Steve responded, plain as day.

He had asked Robin, if someone were to come out to him (granted they were not just drugged by Russians), what would she have wanted to hear. And he finally got the chance to use it, seeing the way Eddie's shoulders dropped in relief.

"So you're like actually ok with it?"

"Like I said, been to hell and back with you, who you love doesn't mean a thing over that."

" Yeah," Eddie said,"But most straight guys don't like it when gay guys flirt relentlessly with them."

"We'll keep that one between us then, won't we?" Steve wasn't entirely ready to correct Eddie on the straight thing, so he just didn't acknowledge that part. He chose to ignore the blush rise on his face, blaming it internally on the heat of the fire.

He also tried to ignore that at that point, the nicknames picked up.

It started with babes. Then baby, which made Steve's brain flutter. Then sweetheart. Eddie only used that one when he wanted something, and yet Steve still loved it. Stevie was one of the fan favorites. Not really a pet name, but used just as lovingly as one. Sometimes Eddie held out the end, in a sing-song voice. Made Steve weak in the knees. Eddie knew what he was doing.

It was babe that made Steve do something about it. Eddie used sweetheart, baby, Stevie, around everyone. In front of the kids, on his various trips to Family Video (whether to buy or annoy, who knew). But babe. Babe was just for Steve and Steve alone.

So of course, the only logical order of events was for Steve to start using them back.

It started with babe, the obvious choice. Fight fire with fire, or whatever. The meaningless pet names ended with babes too.

Because after Eddie kissed Steve to shut him up, they suddenly had meaning.

[jaytalking]

Spoilers for the fop: a new wish ending.

TW for vague-ish allusions to child abuse/neglect

(I've never written for Tumblr before. Go easy on me.)

----

His interrogator is a child.

Timmy had started to think today was just not his day somewhere in between "coming home from vacation to an invaded Fairy World" and "Being captured by anti-fairies minutes away from the chip and tied to a chair with iron chains". Dale Dimmadone and fucking Foop (Irep. Oh who cares.) of all people being his captors had been the confirmation.

Now there's a child with sunglasses scowling at him, and he's just bracing himself for whatever this damn day throws at him next.

"Why didn't you talk?"

Timmy considers the question for about 5 seconds before deciding he doesn't care enough to weave a lie.

"Fairies can't break the rules, not directly. It applies to revealing secrets too, not my fault they couldn't figure it out."

"But you're not a fairy, the nets didn't work on you, only iron seems to have some kind of effect."

He gives the kid a wry smile. "Burning sting" was definitely An effect.

"Not that hard to figure out; once-human, means exactly what you think it means. So yeah, Maybe I just don't want to give that idiot answers, considered that?"

The kid gives him an angry look, Timmy just raises an eyebrow.

"Don't call my dad an idiot. Do you even know who he is? He seemed to know you, that's for sure."

"Did he ever tell you about a lemonade factory? I pulled him out of there, I knew THAT Dale. Whoever the golden-toothed asshole outside is he's not anyone I care to know, that's for sure."

The kid looks somehow angrier, Timmy continues undeterred.

"I do want to know your name at least, I'm getting tired of calling you "kid" in my head."

"You first."

"Smart. It's Timmy, Timmy T-... Fairywinkle-Cosma."

He's not surprised to feel a spark of recognition from the kid, the sunglasses hide his face but for the average fairy any emotion, especially a kid's, is as visible as ever. What he IS surprised to see is a curl of dread.

"Dev. Dev Dimmadone- why don't you just give up? We've got all the fairies under nets, the chip is gone so they can't do magic anyways, and you're in chains with no way to escape. Dad even offered you-"

"There's nothing he could offer that would make me give up on my family."

There's... a picture, that's starting to be painted in Timmy's mind, and he doesn't like one bit of it; Dev must be the kid Irep used to accomplish this plan, there's no other explanation for the kid being here and knowing so much about fairies otherwise. Dev is a Godkid. Dev is Peri's Godkid-

"What about letting your family go? Would that be enough?"

"... You don't know anything, do you?"

He might have put too much venom in those words by the way the kid visibly flinches and goes silent, but in that moment he doesn't care.

"Do you know what happens when a fairy doesn't grant wishes? Their magic begins to build up, bit by bit- it gets harder to breathe, to do anything without feeling absolutely horrible- and then they're gone, just like that. Without the Big Wand, without the ability to grant wishes, that's what awaits all of them- all of US. Your dad is a short-sighted idiot who doesn't realise I'm not exempt from this- so even if I did tell him how to become like me, he'd have the exact same fate. We'd both be dead and the Anti-fairies would have a grand ol' laugh about it."

"Irep-"

"Irep doesn't care about you. I don't give a damn what he told you, but it's obvious he kept you in the dark about basically all of this and now he's off to do the same to Dale. You need to accept you've been used, kid."

Dev is quiet, eyes fixed on the floor. Timmy's anger deflates slightly; the true mastermind here is Irep, he should reserve his anger for him, not for the kid he strung along.

"... He told me it would make him proud."

The question leaves his mouth before his mind can process it.

"Would that be enough? To justify all of this?"

Something has snapped, an echo of the ignored child who wished so badly his parents would pay more attention and was called selfish for it, who lashed out and wanted more, more, and more to fill a bottomless hole in his heart, felt vindicated when the truth was made evident: that love and attention is not a damn privilege, it's the right of any child.

"It wouldn't, and it wouldn't last for long. You know this, we both know this."

Dev is shaking. Timmy clams his mouth shut. He's shaking and his grip on the iron key is tight.

"There's no way they'll forgive me."

And he has to laugh at that, a short burst cut off by the pain of the chains moving and reaching new skin.

"That's the worst part- they always do. And before you even realise you're in the wrong."

[luveline]

hey! would you mind writing sirius black x reader (ole flame or something) when they meet for the first time since azkaban at a meeting for the order? thank you and happy holidays!

thank u for requesting, hope this is OK! ♡

—you and sirius both get to go home eventually, 2.2k. fem

You were still kids when Sirius… went away. You thought he hurt James and Lily, and it didn't matter that you loved him because he was evil and cruel and he hurt the people he loved most in the world, and then you were outposted thousands of miles eastward, your life a shadow. 

Remus sent you letters. You always answered, even when it hurt, but his last was too much to believe. You told yourself that someone forged his handwriting through a curse or some new gimmick, and then a second arrived with a smaller envelope hidden inside. 

No name written on it. No Dear anything to begin. 

Things are different to what you've been told. Please come home, it said. This penmanship was shaken like a hand out of practice, but something felt familiar in the curves and dots. 

If Remus’ letter (and the second smaller one too) were in fact telling the truth, it means you did something awful, and so, for a while, you don't go. 

Please, the next letter says, again enclosed within a larger explanation from Remus, I'm sorry. I just want to see you again. 

Getting home isn't as simple as he might think. You have to picture the destination very clearly to disapparate, and you have no sustained recollection anymore of the places you used to go. You remember silly things, slices of memories; the four of them laughing in a big green field, the sweet smell of hair oil to your left; the beige walls of a rented flat where you'd lay in bed for hours, sometimes days at a time, before things got too terrible to sleep; a string-lit garden that last summer, hands of poker on a glass table. These places aren't real anymore. You can't go back to them. 

Upon your request, Molly forwards you an address and a secret code. 

Trains, buses, trains again. A long walk through a cold street. Some secret this or that. You arrive in the night and a frowning face ushers you in, past a painting sealed away and up the creaking stairs. You spend hours sitting on the end of a bed coated in dust waiting for the sun to rise, your back stiff with nerves. You could slip out before anyone else knows you're here, it's not as if Moody would give you away. But why did you come, if you were going to run straight back to your outpost? 

You don't want Sirius’ betrayal to be true, of course. It took your breath away imagining what it would mean if he hadn't done what you thought. If it's all lies (as it seems to be), if he's innocent as he and Remus claim, it means you turned your back on him and left him to suffer, and he's still asking you to come home. 

A few people stir for breakfast. Molly, who's voice you remember, and some younger sounding ones that may be her children, or perhaps the newer Order recruits. Then comes Remus’ voice. He sounds different. Less Welsh, more tired. Homely anyways as he passes your door with someone beside him. 

“...any day now,” he's saying, “try not to worry.” 

“I do worry. I've worried about it every day for years.” 

You freeze up. 

The stairs creak, Remus’ voice moving further away. “She doesn't need worrying.” 

Sirius must stay at the top of the stairs for a moment. He sounds close. “I wouldn't know what she needs.” 

“Come have some breakfast.” 

“I'll write her again.” 

“After breakfast.” 

“What if she doesn't come?” 

“After breakfast,” Remus insists. “She can ignore you once we've had toast.” 

“I forgot how funny you are,” Sirius mutters. 

Hearing his voice fills you with doubt. He sounds nothing like he used to, no easy confidence to be heard, just fatigue. 

You look down at your hands. Hearing his voice has a new emotion sprouting, too. When you first learned what had happened to your friends, you felt anger like a knife everywhere you went. How could he do that to them? How could he do it to you, be that person, ruin everything you'd loved and made together? But later, when anger faded and grief ached, you'd missed the Sirius you loved. Shamefully, in longing pangs, you'd toss and turn to dreams where things were different. 

Now there's a chance he might still be that person, and you're hiding from him in his own house. 

“There's someone here,” Molly says as you leave your room, her voice nearly too quiet to hear from the kitchen. “Moody's told me this morning.” 

“What?” Arthur asks. 

“Who?” a younger voice says. 

A small intermission of quiet. “Well, I don't know,” Molly says eventually, though she must have guessed it was you from the letter you sent. “But I'll need another loaf of bread. You'd better go, boys.” 

“Mum,” one whines. 

“Come on now.” 

The stairs whimper as you descend, the bannister sticky with old gloss under your hand. Paisley wallpaper and drapes catch your eye as you pass the overflowing shoe rack. There must be more people here than you'd thought. The coat stand is similarly overloaded. 

You can see into the kitchen as soon as you take the last step down. Molly stands wringing a dish cloth between her hands, two teenage boys at the kitchen table. Remus stands near her right with a cup of tea, and when he sees you, he genuinely smiles. 

“Oh, good,” he says, the scar that bisects his lip pulling as he takes a sip of tea. 

The teenagers turn to see you. “Bread, boys! Arthur, you can go with them," Molly says.

Arthur doesn't complain. You falter in the hallway, quiet as the trio of Weasley's leave the kitchen in their slippers to take a quiet exit from the front door. They smile politely as they go, but the boys whisper as the door shuts behind them. You wonder if they have an inkling of who you are, and then you wonder what you might say now they're gone. 

Molly remains, inquisitive to know that you need privacy but also the security of her company. She was always smart like that.

“Come in, then,” Remus says. 

“I–” You clear your throat. “I'm not sure I should.” 

A startle of silverware against china. 

Remus gives you one of his looks. It has tears threatening to well. Why didn't I fight to see him more? you think. Suddenly years have passed and he's changed, but his reassuring glances remain. It's like he's saying everything is fine, why wouldn't everything be fine? Chin up, dove.

Sirius appears in the doorway. Dark circles beneath grey eyes, his cheeks gaunt with hunger rather than the sleek sharpness he once possessed. He's still pretty, if wounded. It's as though you've found an old photo of him that's been smudged with age. He's stepped out of one of your moulding albums to haunt you. 

“Angel,” he breathes, his hand clasped low on the doorway, “you're here.” 

You look past him to Molly and Remus. There isn't a reality nor dimension where they'd let him stay here if they didn't believe his innocence. Remus explained it all in the letter and still you worried if he might have gotten it wrong, and simply believed what he wanted to believe, but it's not possible. Remus loved James so much, he would've killed Sirius himself if he really thought Sirius was the secret keeper who betrayed them. 

So. It's a relief to be home. 

You stare at him. “You look tired,” you say quietly. 

“I'm fine. I am.” 

He seems alright, considering. You'd even say he was handsome with his hair pushed away from his face, a dark shadow of stubble around his mouth, but he looks exhausted.  

You're expecting him to say what you'd say. How could you ever think I'd do it? 

Sirius was prone to similar bouts of pride, or righteousness, justice, whatever you want to call it, but he doesn't bother with that now. He looks at you as though you're the only person on earth, gaze narrowed but eyes wide, pain between his brows as he asks, “What's wrong?” 

Your hand finches up to your cheek to wipe the sudden tear away. “I thought I'd never see you again.” Your Sirius. 

“Don't be upset,” he pleads. 

“How can I not be? I left you all alone for so long.” 

He laughs roughly. “Sweetheart, what were you supposed to do?” 

“Not just give up.” 

“You thought it was me. That's the only thing you could've done. Either of you,” he says, gesturing backward with his hand. “It was hard… to know who to trust, at the end. It's not your fault.” 

You really were only kids together, not half as in love as James and Lily, but that doesn't mean you weren't mad for each other. He looked after you. You would've had a life, you think. 

“You were just gone,” you say, looking down at the floor between you, eyes tracing lines of wood grain. “Everyone. There was nobody left. And I just let you go.” 

“Do you want to come here?” he asks. You lift your head. His hand is barely in front of him, fingers open, palm up. 

It's like taking a stranger's hand for the first few seconds. You keep them low between you both, unfamiliar to each other. But, you find, as his fingers wrap around yours in that selfish way they used to do, squeezing rather than intertwining to make all of them fit, he remembers you.

You step a little closer, your arm to his chest, and look up at him through your lashes. It would melt him like a candle near a furnace, this look. He'd be smug or seething about something and you'd sidle in to stand between his shoes, unsure of what to say but determined to be there for him. It's the same now.  

“What's wrong?” he asks under his breath. 

“I left you all alone,” you repeat. 

“It wasn't your choice, okay?” He smooths his free hand from your elbow to your upper arm. 

Molly says something to Remus. He chuckles and says something in return. Happier to admit it if it's only for Sirius’ ears, you say, “I'm really sorry, Sirius. I miss you every day.” 

“I miss you too,” he says. 

You push your arms around his waist and hide your face in his chest, feeling for the lines of who he used to be, the dip of his spine in his back or the soft cotton of one of his old t-shirts. You regret hugging him at all, until he puts his arm behind your head, a shaky breath released against your crown. 

I'm scared, he'd said. But I don't want you to be scared, okay? Barely twenty, he smelled of the sticky red powder on the end of matches after a night doing things he couldn't tell you about. You could tell him you loved him, and he you, but you weren't to discuss Order business. We'll be okay. 

But Lily–

Everyone's going to be fine. I promise. 

“You promised,” you say to yourself. Too quiet for him to hear, but he does. 

“I promised you so many things I'm not sure what one you mean,” he says with a disappointed laugh. 

You pull away, taking his face into two hands. “How do you feel?” you ask, ignoring the tremble working up from your wrists. 

“What?” His eyes are dark. 

“How are you? Did they– I mean, are you okay? Are you sick?” 

“Remus has patched me up. And Cordelia, the medwitch, you know her?” 

“I don't know anyone. I've been away.” 

He nods sadly. “Yeah. Well, you look the same.” 

“I don't.” 

“You do! You look the same,” —he almost sounds happy, his lips curling into a smile— “sweetheart. Sweetheart–” He closes his eyes. 

You push his hair behind his ears. “You don't look the same,” you confess, “you have wrinkles, right… here.” You touch the corners of his eyes. 

“You're still beautiful.” 

“Mm. You can't even see me.” 

“I don't need to see you. I knew you would be.” 

You rise up to kiss his cheek gently. “It's like you're back, like– like, I always felt like you were gone. And now you're home again. You are home, aren't you?” 

He covers your hand with one of his. “You're here, so–” 

You laugh together nervously. “Yeah, I'm here.” 

“I have stuff to do to make it right.” 

“Then we'll do it.” 

“Okay,” he says. He swallows a breath, and wraps you in a surprisingly tight hug. “Did you read my letters?” 

I don't want anything from you. Just to see you're okay. 

“I read them. I'm okay. Don't I look okay?” 

“You look perfect. Just like the last time I saw you,” he says. It startles you how suddenly he sounds like he did when you were young, his flirting drawl, voice velveteen. 

“Not like that,” you laugh. 

He pulls you as close as you can be, rough now, his arms solid around you. “I missed that,” he says, rubbing your back. “I forgot how you sound when you laugh.” 

You've led very different lives. “I didn't forget yours.” 

“You wouldn't. You love having things to hold against me.” 

You stroke his hair. “Maybe a little.” 

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: years ago, you broke up with him for his reckless lifestyle. now, when he's come back without changing a bit, you don't know why you let him back into your life.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.65k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: angst, death is mentioned and tyler gets close to it not explicitly, kissing, swearing, baby as a nickname for your lover, lot of made up family members + names

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: cowboy slang vocabulary, yes it's 11pm, yes I wrote this in a day, yes I'm in bed, yes Glen Powells is hot

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler Owens likes to live what others might call a dangerous life, although he much preferred to call it a life of thrill.

He started it off as a bull rider for a rodeo, and though by the end of it he was regarded as the star bull rider and sometimes even the star of the show, there was a big learning curve that ended him with a couple (something closer to four dozen, really) kicks on the ol' noggin. Luckily, none of it sprouted within him either physical or mental problems by the time he decided he wanted to move on; his mother always said he had a thick skull, anyway.

After the less dangerous, still excruciating years in university, he came out with a meteorologist degree. And what did he do with it? He became a storm chaser.

A peculiar fact that came with it was that even after landing a more dangerous job, he sustained less injuries than bull riding by a substantial amount. Suppose the thing is that the moment he gets his first serious one, he's likely done for.

You've been through it all.

You met him before he even started this life, in high school; your first kiss was at his bedside after a particularly harsh fall and kick, you persisted through the busier university schedule, and you supported his dreams to be a storm chaser.

But at the height of it all, after the first scare when the anchor mechanism on that old truck of his failed to stop the car from turning onto its side, you decided you two were over.

It was definitely selfish. You didn't want to be close to him when, and you said when, he died. You decided it would be a lot less grief on your end, and you know what? He understood you.

For years, you've been grateful for him. As much as you've been his anchor, he's been yours...but he'd have made you a widower, even if you were married or not, and you just couldn't take that possibility.

If you're caught in the disastrous thunderstorm he'll leave behind, you're not sure you'll ever make it out.

You hope you'll never find out.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Get your ten commandments out of my soup!"

So why did you let him walk back into your life?

"I'm sorry! Hey, don't hit me with that ladle!"

You're not sure.

You point the utensil at him as threateningly as possible, although it's practically the same thing as pointing a spoon at him. "I don't need you for a taste-tester, Owens, you best take note of that."

"Yeah, yeah," Tyler's body is shaking with laughs, even as he lifts his hands up in surrender. "yes, sir."

You roll your eyes, bedrugingly turning your back to him to keep chopping vegetables. Tonight, you'll be sharing this soup with the whole family, and you're currently trying your damnedest to make it good. That means avoiding whatever seasoning boiled Tornado Wrangler digits will bring.

Tyler leans back to admire you, no he's not looking at your ass, work away. It feels oddly domestic, even if he's sitting down like a useless husband watching TV on his recliner.

That feeling of domesticity is piled on further when he hears the sound of innocent laughing outside.

"You sure that kid's not mine?" Tyler suggests for the second time, gesturing out the back door with his head.

"Haha." You laugh sarcastically, not even giving him the satisfaction of turning his way. "No, my sister just so happened to marry a blonde. Even if she was somehow ours, I would've never kept you from her."

Of course you wouldn't have. You're too good for that.

The kid outside is your niece, a twelve year old girl shipped out of bustling New York City to the backdoor of America for being "too addicted to her phone", as your sister says. Despite her self-proclaimed hatred for the outdoors, she's actually having a lot of fun with the ranch dogs, who indulge her when they're not working.

Even though he's in no way related to the kid, and even if you and him could never biologically create anything together, he swears she looks just like if the two of you had a love child, which makes his heart swell all the more when she sees her.

"If we could've had one," Tyler begins, standing up to begin a slow, silent walk towards you. "would you have rather they be a boy or a girl?"

"Don't ask me that." You say with a laugh, meaning you're refusing to answer only because you don't want to have prejudice.

"Okay, fine, then." He settles behind you, pressing his chest to your back. "Huh."

"Huh, what, cowpoke?"

His hands are settled on the edge of the counter on either side of you, trapping you in. "I thought you'd flinch."

"I learned to expected the unexpected around you, Tyler Owens. Never a day went by that you didn't surprise me, so I decided I'd simply never be surprised."

Tyler sputters out a laugh. "Oh, hobble your lip!"

"It's true." You reply, offhandedly, fully concentrated on chopping some carrots, and Tyler hates that because you're not giving him attention.

So he opts to do something you'll obviously never expect and prove you wrong. He leans down to press his nose against your neck, and you think he's only going to kiss it, but instead...

Thbptttttt!

"Ew, Tyler, you did not!" It's a miracle you have the self-restraint to put the knife down, let alone only push him away and not slap him on the face. You clutch the spot where he just blew a raspberry and instantly regret it, recoiling away from the feel of his saliva like it's acid.

Tyler laughs. Despite your best efforts to push him away again as he approaches, he only dodges your hands and traps you against the counter again. His plan is accomplished, as he now has you facing him.

"You asshole." You snarl.

Tyler only smiles. "Yours, all the same."

He leans down to kiss right where he'd blown that raspberry, collecting most of his own spit on his lips and saving you the trouble of cleaning it himself.

Even when you wipe off the rest of the spit you'd previously touched on his sleeve, he laughs.

"What am I going to do with you?" You sigh, cupping his cheek and tilting his gaze towards yours.

He's a damn bastard, having the audacity to grin at you as if he's won some kind of victory. "Kiss me."

So he's a puppy, then. Licking you like it's a way of kissing and expecting a proper kiss back. "No, you don't deserve that."

He rolls his eyes, though his eyes find yours immediately after. "Yes I do. Kiss me."

You don't know why you let Tyler Owens walk back into your life like nothing happened. You don't know how you let him kiss your neck, or how you let him even ask to kiss you, or how you're even being friendly with him.

Scratch that, actually. You don't know why he kissed your neck, why he wants to kiss you, or why he's being friendly with you.

You walked out of his life, for God's sake. You walked out of his life because you feared dealing with the aftermath of his death.

He's a tornado. Tyler Owens, the tornado wrangling cowboy, is a tornado. He's a fire twister, even, the worst of the worst, a category F5. The damage he'll leave once he dies out won't be devastating, it'll be incredible.

That's what you're trying to avoid.

"What's wrong?" Tyler's smile has faded, his expression sobered up. Of course he can still tell when you're lost in your own thoughts.

"Nothing." You shake your head, wipe your nose to hide your sniffle and thus let go of his face. "Hey, how about you go check up on Sophie? My sister would kill me if she got hurt."

"Right, sure." He can sense something's wrong, but he withdraws anyway, respecting your decisions. He always does that, and you hate him for it, because he's so good.

You watch him head out the back door, and even as he closes it, you watch on.

He's too good for you.

When the distant sound of the boiling soup catches your ear, you inevitably tear your eyes away.

Right, let's make the best soup there ever was.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler had unknowingly picked the right time to show up at your front door when he did.

"Aww, come on, you didn't have to make such a big fuss," Your great uncle speaks with those sloppy dentures of his, but even with the wet sound of his gums and lips, he sounds entirely endearing. "Tyler's back! This party should've been his."

Tyler's always been the life of the party ever since you brought him home for that first Thanksgiving (his "trial", so to speak), and that apparently hasn't changed.

"Oh, no, no, you're kiddin' grandpa!" Tyler only raises his glass from where he's leaning against the punch table. "It's your birthday! Hell, I didn't even bring a gift!"

"Your fine ass is all you needed to bring." Your famously single aunt grins and sends a wink, holding a glass full of wine she snuck in despite all the children around.

Tyler directs his own glass towards her to thank her, his smile never waning. "Oh shush, aunt Delilah."

As Tyler greets the family one by one, all of which clearly miss him, you're in the corner of the room pointing out each of them to your niece.

"Those are your cousins...I think. They're your mom's cousin's kids, and well...whatever, they're Jonas' kids. Becky, Jake, Bean–"

"Bean?"

"Sorry, his name's Nick, we just call him Bean 'cause one time as a toddler we found him sitting on a sack of raw beans, shovelling them into his mouth."

"That's crazy."

Even after you've named every face in the room and sent Sophie away with a pat on the head to mingle with her...cousins, Tyler's still talking to everyone.

Your heart burns like you've had some of uncle Dick's famous dripping fried chicken at the sight of it because nobody's ever like this when it's just you.

It's not even about the fact you're forgotten, it's a big family and you have your own close group of cousins in the middle of all of them, it's the fact that they missed him.

While you're distracted, your mom pulls you down to sit beside her on the couch, where your dad is telling another story of his. Many of your aunts and uncles and distant cousins are gathered around him, listening intently, but as you actually hear the contents of his speech, your attention fades away. It's one of those stories he always tells, about how the crop cycle was ruined until he had this eureka idea.

Distantly, you hear Tyler droning on about his whole tornado wrangling cowboy thing, explaining his latest feat like it's nothing but a regular Tuesday. He's got a lot more people gathered around him than your dad; not to discredit your dad, as he's doing his best trying to compete against Tyler in storytelling, but you know how that will end.

You kiss your mother on the cheek and stand up to find your more amicable cousins, only to be interrupted by your aunt Sissy, Delilah's sister.

"Hey, darling! How've you been?" She calls you over and immediately slings an arm around your neck, holding you close and rubbing your cheeks together in greeting.

"Good, good." You say immediately, an instinctual white lie as you wipe her transferred makeup off your cheek.

She doesn't even notice you're lying to her, maybe doesn't care enough to notice, before she's nodding her head towards Tyler and his crowd. "I'm so happy you're back together with Tyler, he must have so many new stories to tell."

"Um, actually, auntie," You try to correct her, then bite your lip, pausing suddenly to think. It'd probably be a lot better if you let her believe you were back together, but you've already dug yourself into saying actually. "we're–"

"Hey, auntie Sissy!" Tyler suddenly appears beside you like he wasn't just across the room, leaning down to gracefully accept the cheek kisses in greeting. He somehow comes out of it without getting stained. "How have things been? The old cat still slinking around the neighbors' yards?"

The two of them exchange a few words before he's slinging an arm around your shoulder, "Can I borrow this one real quick? It'll just be a sec."

"Sure, sure!" Whether an insult to your presence or a compliment to his coercion tactics, she's more than happy to let the two of you go. "Don't let me hold up your fun."

You're grateful for him steering you away from the party and out onto the front porch, but you're also dreading being alone with him after the whole thing in the kitchen.

Tyler doesn't seem too far off.

"Whew, I did not miss being around your family." He breaths out, leaning against the porch's railing.

The whole dread fades into confusion as he says that, and you lean against the spot beside him. "You didn't?"

"No...well," He shakes his head, "I missed hanging out with them. I did not miss having to tell them every single detail about where I've been since I've last seen them."

"I thought you liked telling them stories." You hummed, turning your gaze from the scenery ahead to him.

"Eh...I much prefer intimate crowds." He sends a wink. You flush and try to turn away, but he catches your cheek and stops you.

Tyler knows something is wrong, has known since you discreetly pushed him away earlier today in the kitchen. Looking into your eyes only further convinces him.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

His eyes narrow. His stupidly beautiful blue-green eyes narrow at you, and you know you can't lie anymore...but you can deflect.

"Did you know your eyes are blue and green?" You ask, lightly tapping his hand that sits on the railing.

"(Y/N)."

"Blue rim. Green...center? No, that's not the word, the inner? God, I don't know." You shake your head, and despite the movement, his hand doesn't leave your cheek.

"(Y/N)."

"They remind me of the classic scenery." You hold a pointer finger out. "Blue sky, green lawn, right? Or the Windows default wallpaper. Both are iconic."

His other hand leaves the railing and takes your other cheek. "Baby, look at me."

Baby. You used to hate it when he called you that, you weren't some baby, but now...now, how you've missed it.

You sigh, closing your eyes momentarily to collect yourself. No more deflecting and no more lies. You actually had to talk about your feelings now.

It had taken a lot of courage the first time, telling him: yes, I still love you, I'm just selfish and think that if you die, you'll take me down with you; no, I know you won't actually kill me, but you'll take my soul with you, and that's practically the same thing, isn't it?

"You don't have to tell me anything." Tyler speaks up before you do, beckoning your eyes open. "You just have to tell me to go away again, if that's what you want."

"No," You instinctively say.

"No," You say immediately.

No. No, how could you? You did once, and you're not sure how.

"Stay." You say, because you want it, you want him to stay.

"Okay." He says it easily, and his hands fall to his sides. He's willing to take that, just that, because...you don't know, maybe he still loves you. You're not willing to admit that.

You're not willing to accept that he still loves you after you told him you wanted to break up.

You take his hand before he can walk back into the party. "Why'd you come back?"

"I..." Tyler almost shrinks back, but you intertwine your fingers, and now you're the angler reeling him back in. "My car got flipped onto it's roof."

"Baby." You breathe out, pulling him in, pulling him closer to you, almost like he's not living flesh in front of you and you need to make sure he's breathing by feeling his chest heave against you.

"I was in the hospital for a little while...just some cuts." He assures first, to not worry you. He grabs both your hands, presses his nose to the knuckles, inhales the scent of their sweat like it's that of an apple pie, and it's weird but he needs it. "The glass broke, obviously, all of it, and some of my equipment, and, well, fuck, it was worse than a couple cuts."

"Ty."

"I'm okay, you see? Not scarred. I'm tough." He lets go of your hands momentarily to do a little twirl for you. He looks just the same as you left him.

"You almost died." You say anyway.

"Yeah." He doesn't deny it, he can't lie, because he can see through your lies as well as you can see through his. "I wanted to see you again, because...I wanted to see you in case the next time I got into an accident, I actually died. And you know what? I feel selfish for it."

"What? No." You shake your head, step closer. You're about to say more, but he starts first.

"You told me to stay away, but I came back into your life and I acted like nothing happened. You know, the life you're living? It's kind of what I wanted for us. A little ranch, some cows, some dogs, a farm. We get our own milk, our own eggs, grow our own food, and it's just the two of us..." His fingers climb up your arm like a little spider, and his gaze follows it absentmindedly. "Until we decide to adopt a little girl. You drive her to school, I drive her back home. We're happy, raising her. We teach her not to be like us, and she still turns out an exact replica of us, anyway. She's our princess."

"Sophie?"

"Sophie."

He sniffles. You tear your hand away from his only to cup both of his cheeks with your hands. "I'm so sorry, Tyler."

"No, I–"

"No, shut up." Despite the severity, you laugh, and he does too, until you're speaking again. "I shouldn't have left. I should've stayed right there with you. I'd have been right at your bedside, you know? I'd have kissed you like the first time. Remember what I said?"

He laughs again, "That my breath tastes like cow shit?"

"Yeah, that." You grin at him, and he loves to see you grin like that again. "I was selfish."

"I understood you completely, though. I thought I was saving you the grief." That's why he let you leave so easily, and you realize it now, looking into his eyes. "You were right. You always are."

"I'm not, Tyler. I was wrong." You shake your head, "I thought it worked. Weeks went by when I didn't think about you, because I fought the memories of you back. A year after, it settled in that I wouldn't be seeing you, so I thought I wouldn't even think about you anymore, but...the memory of you, your smile, your kisses, your warmth resurfaces every month, and god, I missed you. And missing you without the possibility of having you is just grieving you."

"...and now I'm here." He leans a bit further away, and you see all of him. You see the way his blue-green eyes are glassed over, and you've no doubt yours are the same; you see the familiar way his hat is perched above his head and how he still wears the top two buttons of his shirt undone and how his smile is just the same.

"And now you're here." You nod.

He places his hands over your wrists, holds them, presses his nose against yours. "I missed you too."

"Mhm?" You hum. Your breaths mingle with his, pressed this close together.

"And I love you, too. Still do."

"Fuck." You laugh, a teary little thing, but it's real and genuine and not a figment of his imagination. "I love you too."

And then you kiss, and he's missed it so much, and you've missed it so much, the two of you. You're slotted together, like pieces of a puzzle. You're not you without him and he's not him without you.

When you part, you wipe a couple stray tears off his cheeks, and he does the same for you.

"Should we..." He chokes a little on his words, then shakes the nerves off. He has you back, and his smile returns. "head back?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we should." You find yourself leaning back in, anyway.

You share another kiss, maybe two. If he'd brought a friend or three along, he'd have signalled them to light the fireworks in his truck to add a little magic to it, even if it already feels like fireworks are going off between your lips.

You could spend eternity like this.

When you've had enough of each other for the moment and finally head back in, your great uncle raises his spoon at you and laughs. "There you are! This soup is amazing, kid!"

Or at least that's what he would've said, had his dentures not gotten stuck in a hard carrot and splashed right back into his bowl.

One of the carrots which you added last, thanks to Tyler's distraction earlier today.

The tornado wrangler of a boyfriend you've regained is laughing his ass off beside you, while you cringe. So much for the perfect soup.

"Come on, (Y/N)." Tyler wraps an arm around you, pulling you close, and you're so happy he can do it casually again.

"Let's get us a bowl."

[the-pixelated-pirate]

General relationship hcs for Goro Majima and/or Guzma ?? :) could be either one or both in seperate posts, I don't mind ^^

(Also, maybe a mix of sfw & nsfw ? If possible <3)

Decided to choose Guzma for this post, be on the look out for Majima's post on my acct! (Posting at the same time)

Romantic Guzma HCs ♡

NOTES/WARNINGS: NSFW under the cut, gender neutral reader w AFAB anatomy,

REQUEST STATUS: Open!

REQUESTS LEFT: 2!

• Despite his tough guy attitude, Guzma is secretly a big ole softie. He doesn't like anyone except you seeing that side of him. He's a sucker for bear hugs, and suffocation in his chest + broken ribs can be a possibility w him

• Secret romantic at heart, but his sense of romanticism is a little different from the norm

•

• Loooves back massages. He may complain if you ask for one, but he'll do it for you ofc. Everytime you touch his back it sounds like bang-snaps

• Post game(s) he takes up gardening, Plumeria said it would help with his anger issues. She was kind of right? The flowers bring bug types to his house so he isn't complaining

• Speaking of, while Whimpod/Golisopod is his buddy, he's got a soft spot for Grubin and Cutiefly. His first experience with Snom was almost biblical

• Suffers from insomnia, lots of late nights, lots of warm milk. He'd really appreciate it if you decided to stay up with him, even if he acts otherwise <3 he wants you to get your full 8 hours

• Very rarely talks about his feelings, but when he does it's a sure fire sign that he trusts you completely. He works better as a shoulder to lean on, tbh. He isn't good with his words, but he's a good ear to vent to. He'll suggest if you wanna go out and throw rocks at old buildings or something

• Prefers sweet malasadas

• Totaaalll family man. The grunts and Plumeria are all like family to him, and he does his best to take care of them (plus you). He loves kids, always has candy in his pockets, and really just acts like the fun uncle. If a child asks he WILL throw hands with them. Wether or not he'll take it easy on them is another question

NSFW

• Speaking of kids 👀👀

• Yes he'll definitely prefer to have a few. Or if you're unable to have kids or just plain don't want them, he understands. He plain just enjoys the motions of it.

• High-key a switch, and loves to bottom. But he's sooo fucking bratty, and the biggest pillow prince

• Praise, giving or receiving. He laps that stuff up, and when he's spitting praises there's a lot of cursing thrown in there.

• He can top too... he can be a mix of a mean dom or a soft one, depends on his mood.

• He loves soft sex, though. Getting to curl up around you, hold you close, whispering about how hot you are.... ♡

• Very vocal, on top or bottom. Like I mentioned, very bratty when he's got his legs in the air, but when it's you his plowing into, he's swearing like a sailor, buttering you up talking about how much he just loooves you

• Craazy head game, loves giving.

• Pain play is a toss up, he isn't too hardcore, but he'll slap you or throw you around. Like I'll give it to my man he is a little kinky but he prefers to keep the pain out of it, for the most part.

• Lovess being on the receiving end of aftercare, not the best at giving it. He'd prefer for you to just snuggle up into his arm so you can both fall asleep. Sex really helps him conk out so he enjoys finishing every night with a little woo-hoo >:3

• Fuck it. I'm throwing away my morals. He's packing. I know it. Big dick energy. You see him slouching? You know why

[mono-dot-jpeg]

child! reader w/blade, yanqing, natasha, & gepard

summary; thoughts being thunk about cute scenarios with child! reader

genre/extra tags; fluff, blade is probably ooc, don't give blade a child, yanqing being a big brother, yanqing and reader gang up on jingyuan, natasha my beloved, gepard big brother arc, but gepard is an awkward big brother, whoops my hand slipped now there's angst (natasha's part), blade wants to punt a kid (/hj)

[gender neutral! reader] [child 7-9! reader] [platonic]

[warnings; implied for reader to be heavily sick often (natasha)]

a/n; *smacks my head* this baby holds loads of child!reader ideas, thanks to their family being the way their family is. good ol' trauma. you didn't pick any characters in particular other than just non-express crew characters. hope you enjoy

it's a fucking miracle that you're even standing next to this man. kafka just had to give you to him. luckily, blade is less violent than he looks. and luckily for you, you hold no fear.

"you look ugly like that." you point at him, your tiny finger inching a little too close to his eye. "why do you look like that?" kafka stifles a laugh as she watches from afar.

"i can't believe i want to punt a child." he mutters. "i don't know, why do you look like that?" he retaliates.

"look like what? ms. kafka says i'm cute!" your hand goes limp to rest on your lap.

"you are anything but cute, you devil spawn."

you gasped, "ms. kafka! blade is being mean!" you get up to run to the woman, who is laughing silently. "he called me a devil spawn... whatever that means!"

"it means you're tiny. and stupid." blade says, watching as you hide behind kafka's leg.

"no, you're stupid!" you stick your tongue out at him.

"you little sh-"

"curse jar!"

"yannie!" you cheered loudly.

"y/n!" he cheers back. you run to him as he picks you up. "do you want to walk around today?" you nodded. "let's go get some allowance from the general first!"

"jing!" you and yanqing arrive at the general's office.

"if it isn't our little cloud knight." jingyuan watches as the young blonde puts you down to go run at him. "i could only wonder what you are doing here with yanqing."

"i wan' to explore with yanqing!" you climb up jingyuan's legs as he watches with a fond gaze.

"is that so?"

you nodded, "but me 'n yan need help." jingyuan looks at you confused before turning to look at yanqing.

"we need some money, general..." jingyuan raises an eyebrow, glancing at you who shows him puppy eyes. and then yanqing tries to play off his ask with an innocent grin.

jingyuan can't help but sigh, "for a lieutenant and a little cloud knight, you two sure are sly." he smiles gently.

"you think we can annoy serval?" an impish grin starts to grow on your face.

"we really shouldn't do that." gepard chides you. you groan.

"but i'm so bored! she's got cool ga- gad-gets."

"gadgets."

"yeah! i wanna see them! i wanna watch serval work!"

"she's probably busy, y/n." you huffed as you struggled in gepard's arms, "stop it!"

"what can we do then?" you pouted. "what do you wanna do?"

awkward silence...

"my idea is better! let's go see big sis!" you tug on his clothes as if it would anything to make him move faster.

"how about we make something for serval? wouldn't that be fun?"

"hm? making something like a gad-gets?"

"gadget. yeah, maybe something like that. or we can draw something for her, and she can put it up somewhere."

"yeah, let's do that!" you cheered, walking alongside gepard and putting your hand in his.

it's no doubt that your parents would leave you in the care of the nicer-est nurse in town (your words, not hers). even if you were a not so amazing state, you can't help but still be happy.

"i think you're a superhero, ms. natasha. i wanna make a story about you!" you've always been a creative soul, it was one of the few things you can do with being bedridden for days on end. writing was a favorite. but you really liked making comics.

"i'm just doing my job, dear. i think you should make a story about yourself." natasha speaks with fondness as she distracts you from getting a shot. "you're just as strong as a hero." her voice is bittersweet but you don't notice it.

"how about i make a story about us? we can be the best-est heroes in the world!" you beamed at your own genius suggestion. "i can be your sidekick!"

"i would love to see that story someday." she smiles. "i know it will be amazing as always." she places a band aid where your shot was taken. her thumb brushes over it once, then again. "i'll even put it up by your bed. framed and everything."

she just hopes you live to see another day.

[writer-in-theory]

inspired by a conversation i had with @serenity-lattes over a fic i'm writing

--

"Hey, Steve, why didn't you tell us you had a brother?"

There were a lot of things that Steve still didn't know about his family. He didn't know his great-grandparents moved to the United States from Italy until he had to do an ancestry project his senior year, and he'd just learned last week that there were others on his mother's side with hearing loss like him. Still, Steve knew that despite all the secrecy, there was no way he had a secret brother.

"I don't have a brother," Steve told Robin as much, coming back into the living room to see Robin and Eddie huddled over something. "What makes you think that?"

"Harrington, I think dear ol' dad's lying to you," Eddie teased, handing over the paper they were staring at.

Birth Certificate

This is to certify that Robert Steven Harrington Jr weighing 8 lbs. 13 oz. was born on the 13th day of December to Robert and Theresa Harrington in the year of 1967.

"How the hell did you find my birth certificate?" Steve balked, watching his best friend and boyfriend stare at him like he had two heads.

"Your birth certificate?" Robin repeated, eyes drifting back down to stare at the paper in his hands.

"Who else's would it be? Am I missing something?" It wasn't too uncommon for Steve to miss the joke, especially with people as quick-witted as Robin and Eddie. Still, this one seemed particularly confusing to even the others, with all three of them staring at each other in complete cluelessness.

"No, no, no," Eddie spoke up then, snatching the certificate out of Steve's hands and holding it up to the light like that might make reading it easier. "There is no way I'm dating a Robert."

Wait...

"You thought my legal name was Steve?"

Was that all this was? Steve didn't fully understand the big deal, especially since he'd never once gone by his legal first name. Even as a kid his parents were calling him Steven, eventually caving and calling him Steve as he wished by the time he entered middle school. He thought everyone had known by now, what with Tommy choosing to call him 'Robert' whenever he was upset with Steve.

"Why would I think anything else? Steven Harrington, how could you not tell me!" Robin shouted, playfully hitting his shoulder when all he did was laugh.

"Robert Harrington," Eddie corrected, immediately pulling a groan from his boyfriend.

"Uh uh, you're not calling me that," Steve decided, taking the certificate back and tucking it away in the drawer where they'd found it. Tomorrow he'd have to dig through the house and hide anything else he didn't want them to see, including any pictures his mother might have left lying around.

"How about Junior?" Robin tried, bursting into laughter at Eddie's responsive cackle. "I mean, who knew someone would go by a nickname of their middle name?

"Are you two done yet?" Steve groaned, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling.

"Aw, c'mon, Robbie, you love us." That was Eddie judging by the arm quickly slung over Steve's shoulders and the kiss planted firmly on his cheek. "I just can't believe you didn't tell us that Stevie isn't your name."

"Stevie has never been my name," Steve laughed, stepping away from Eddie's hug and laughing when the man's arms reached out to hold onto him tighter. "I'll take it over Robert."

"I knew you loved it, baby," Eddie teased, laughing at Steve's expression.

Then Steve grinned, turning to face Eddie so he could lean in close. Right as Eddie licked his lips in anticipation of a kiss, Steve patted his cheek and said, "Baby, you didn't even know my name."

He and Robin laughed until they could hardly breathe, but Eddie was the one laughing when he had the entire Party calling Steve "Rob" the next morning.

[blkdaddie]

The Doctor's House Calls

Story tags: PG-13, Fluff, Interracial, Age Gap, Mpreg, Gay Romance

I was raised in the deep south, where family is everything. I’m the youngest of 8, all boys. So when Mama got sick wasn’t no girls to take care of her, and I promised to stay by her side. My brothers were all off starting their own families and businesses and such, and couldn’t send but so much money home. Not enough to get a nurse more than a coupla times a week. So I got a little job doing landscaping for the town; nothing exciting but I get to be outside and got a nice little pension waiting. Rest of the time it was just me and Mama.

When she took a turn our family doctor said I needed to take her to a specialist over in the city, a young buck straight out of school and still wet behind the ears. He didn’t look old enough to tie his own shoes but Mama took to him straight off and wouldn’t see anyone else. It was a long ride back and forth, few times a month. So when her doctor offered to come do a house call I sho nuff said yes. With the price of gas these days and such, it was a blessing. So Dr. Nate - he tol’ me call  him Dr. Nate- started coming up to see Mama on the regular. But each time he came a little earlier and stayed a little later. He was new to the area, said he didn’t know nobody and liked our company. He helped a lot, and getting on almost 60 years old, my bad knees were grateful.  We was so thankful I started inviting him to stay for dinner, and when peach season came I made a cobbler. He said it was the best thing he’d ever eaten and I had some talented hands. Such a silly thing, don’t know why it made my cheeks hot.  

Even still, I never thought ‘bout Dr. Nate coming ‘round so much but Mama started fussing at me to brush my hair and put on a clean shirt before his visits. I was mighty surprised that night I was washing dishes while he got Mama settled and he came right up behind me and kissed my neck! I ‘bout dropped the gravy boat. You see, I been with some of the faster girls in the town when I was younger, but wasn’t  no woman trying to date a man with a momma to take care of round the clock. Figured my romancin' days was behind me.

So I whirled round and said “Now see here, I ain’t no sissy!” And don’t you know that man grinned dead in my face and said “No, you’re all man.” And grabbed me right through my levi’s. Well it had been a while and his hand felt so good, maybe I didn’t protest as much as I should have.  He really took liberties and started kissin’ me but good.  Tasted like peach cobbler. And him being a doctor and all, when he said he wanted to give me an anatomy lesson about the prostate, I was curious. Well we got to having more lessons and next thing you know, I’m getting swole. Sure took me by surprise but Mama said children are a blessing. She passed quietly in her sleep when I was about 4 months gone. Seemed silly rattlin’ around this big old house by myself so Nate moved in, said he don't mind the commute if it means coming home to me.

I been thinkin’ about retirement, been 40 years on the job and it’s getting hard with a big ol’ belly. Nate thinks I should stay home anyhow; he wants at least 4 more kids and we’ll have to do it fast before I’m too old.

Mama said birthin' is a natural as breathin' and ain't no reason for big hospitals so I delivered at home way it's s'posed to be. Nate got a taste of being a country doctor. He did a real good job taking care of me, real good indeed.

He’s aiming for a houseful. It’s what Mama would want.

[worukin]

╭୨୧︰ childhood friend yandere x male reader

・✦⇢ growing up together with him was certainly a gift. always kind and understanding, never leaving your side. he would always protect you from those who dared to cross you. and now that you're both all grown, he's ready to take protecting you to another level.

︰꒰1・ ( warnings ) — overprotective behaviour, manipulation, yandere themes, bullying, yan taking advantage of his reputation and y/n's shyness.

︰꒰2・ ( notes ) — HIII AFTER A LONG TIME IVE FINALLY POSTED!! Missed you all cant believe i hit 300 already <333 how would you guys feel about yan darling for the special? anyway enjoy!!

( if you are uncomfy with this type of content, kindly block me instead. anyway, hope you enjoy reading this aaa <3 )

You and Kian were attatched at the hip since kindergarten, him first approaching you during the first day of class to talk about how his parents told him about starfish swimming in the sky at night.

Eventually after a few playdates, you were finally ready to call the both of you best friends.

It wasn't much of a surprise to your parents that you didn't try to approach other kids as you were already content with Kian himself, and he took pride in that.

"See! Y/n doesn't need anyone else and so do I! We have each other, don't we?" Kian exclaimed, turning to look to you for confirmation. He beamed when you nodded.

The adults cooed, glad to see their kids getting along well and clinging to each other. "Awe, this is so cute! Smile!" Kian's father out his phone to snag a picture. Kian wasted no time to wrap his arms around you and smile, encouraging you to give a meeker one.

And then during middle school, Kian would always sit beside you during classes you had together. Claiming that having someone you know beside you helped with learning.

This was proven wrong when all you two did was whisper to each other about nonsense, paying no mind to the lesson.

And he'd always share his food with you, even if you didn't forget yours. "Well, mama says I'm a growing boy and need to eat. And since you're a boy you're growing too!"

You took the pieces of Kian's meal he placed into your lunchbox back to his, shaking your head. "I already have enough Kian, growing boys need their own food."

Kian pouted, and began to whine. "But both of our parents told me to take care of you at school! How am I supposed to do that if I don't at least try?" You whipped your head at him, embarassed at what your parents told him.

"They said what!?" Kian nodded at you, chewing. "Y'know because you're shy and can't talk to other people?"

A sigh left your lips. "What does that have anything to do with feeding me?" You shook your head. "Anyway stop it, I don't need to be fed like a baby!" You huffed, before angrily munching away.

Kian sat still for awhile, thinking. Before deciding to tease you. "Aww, why not? Little ol' Y/n only eating when he's fed properly?" He scooped up some of his lunch and went towards you.

"Here comes the airplane! Woooosh!" Kian snickered at your shocked face. "What!? That's even worse Kian!" Grabbing onto his arm to force it back, but Kian wanted to have fun.

"Oh I'm sorry, did you want the choochoo train?" He cackled, eventually placing the spoon back to let out his laughter.

Looking away to stop making it worse, you mumbled. "God that was embarassing..." but you were drowned out by your best friends's giggling. "It's fine Y/n, I don't mind!" He said.

"Well I do." You rolled your eyes at him. "Now eat your food if you wanna grow." Kian stiffled his laughter but eventually went back to eating.

And now you're in highschool, and puberty is making it the worse. People you knew in a small community became mean and targeted you for your shyness.

Well, it wasn't just them who changed. Kian did as well, and you think it's safe to say he's qualified to be your bodyguard.

Always walking you to your classes, fending you off from bullies, sending his harshest glare to those who even look at you wrong. He might be a little overkill but it did provide protection. Even if it did backfire on you.

"Who do you think you are? Using a guy like Kian to protect you? Do you pay him or something?" Being cornered by some other students was definitely not something you expected. Especially when you don't have a bad reputation.

"I don't think so, someone like him wouldn't have any money." One of them snickered. "Look, all we're asking is to leave him alone. It's sad enough he has to hang out with someone like you, jeez."

A girl sighed, "Oh poor Kian, star of the Basketball team having to deal with a loser nobody like you. It's pitifful."

Kian did grow a reputation. For being kind and charming, despite being a class clown he never really said anything degrading. And on top of that, he was athletic. Everything a teacher and a classmate could want.

Active participation, good sportsmanship, good grades, a great relationship among his peers and teachers? And what did you have? All you were was the kid that Kian stuck with, Kian's "friend".

Though none of this answered why they thought of you using Kian when you've been best friends since diapers.

"Aww look, he's too ashamed of himself to say anything. We caught you red handed didn't we?" One scoffed, stepping towards you and grabbing your collar. "Just scram."

And you did. Speedwalking then breaking into a run when you weren't in their sight anymore.

Then, the next day arrived. And as much as you didn't want to— you had to go to school. You already had everything planned out, talk to Kian about this and hopefully he can clear up whatever twisted misunderstanding this was.

But the heated stares you got from some students were enough for you to back out on your plan. Maybe they think I forced him to tell them I'm not bribing him. Ugh.

Nervous thoughts swarmed your head as you sat in your usual seat, and Kian beside you. "Hey Y/n! Wanna go eat out later?" He smiled, sitting down.

Though the prolonged silence confused him a little. Usually you'd nod at him or hum. "Y/n? Did you hear me?" His eyes met yours before you briefly look away. "Okay uhh, did I do... anything? Did something happen?" He suddenly got defensive.

Why is he ignoring me? Kian thought. Staring at you with hard focus. Well I know for a fact I haven't done anything out of line. Have I been to overbearing? Was I that obvious?

Kian hummed, lightly tapping his pencil against the desk. He's been careful for a long time now, managing to keep up the act of an affectionate friend. And it's not like you weren't used to it— cause apparently he's been like this ever since kindergarten, said by both of your parents. So what could be making you act like this?

Honestly, he was a little hurt. You were always such a sweetheart with him. He enjoyed playing the role of a dumb friend who you had to look out for and worry about. And Kian wasn't taking you getting "tired" of him as a reason.

Now you felt bad for ignoring him like this, but you panicked. You were unsure of how to deal with the situation. And now Kian's getting hurt because of it. Maybe I really am an asshole.

It was kind of obvious that something was going on, you had such a somber expression on your face it made Kian frown. The last thing he would want is you getting hurt.

He sighed. Deciding to talk to you about it after school. He wasn't really fond of the idea that you were falling out with him, after everything he's done for you? No way in hell.

Eventually school neared it's end and you tried your best to get out as soon as possible. To avoid Kian and both those guys who cornered you the other day.

With quickened steps and bated breath, you walked out of school as soon as the last bell rung. Kian would surely be swarmed by his teammates— allowing you time to escape.

Oh god, why am I even doing this? Your mind overflowed with anxious thoughts. What if the bullies caught you? What if Kian caught you? The look on his face would be a nightmare.

He'd probably laugh at you for being such a coward, running away from your problems.

Suddenly— an arm reached out to you once you passed by the same street on the way home. Heart beating at the speed of light before realizing it was just Kian.

Oh. It was Kian.

Quickly tensing once you made eye contact, and in a panicked state a bunch of incoherent words left your mouth.

"Kian! I... forgot we always walk this way home." Awkward chuckles filled the air. It made you uncomfortable how you could feel the sweat sliding from your temple.

"Y/n. I was looking for you! Or- waiting for you actually."

He stepped back to give you space. "You worried me man, I thought I did something! I didn't, did I?" He whispered at the end.

For some reason you were relieved to see he wasn't mad at you. I mean, Kian? The Kian who would take care of you when sick? No way.

"Uhm... hi." You whispered after atleast a minute. Kian's face softened. "Hi," he cooed. You were wrapped in a warm embrace once he spoke again. "Hi Love."

Kian wanted nothing more than to smother you in hugs once you were in the alleyway. But he didn't want to overwhelm you.

He missed your voice so much that when he said hi he couldn't help but hug you. Though he was able to restrain himself from squeezing you to death.

Shortly after that, Kian confronted you about why you were ignoring him. Obviously he found out why and let's just say they were dealt with.

Overtime Kian grew paranoid that people would hurt you when he isn't there so... his overprotectiveness kind of grew.

Always sitting beside you, having an arm wrapped around your shoulder, he even got his classes chanbed just for you!

And well... he started to make good use of your personality. Aww, too shy to speak? Don't worry, Kian will order for you!

You didn't mind when he would talk for you, if anything you were grateful. Minus the times he took the opportunity to put words in your mouth.

It's all good fun though! Kian doesn't mean any harm to tease you. (Even if it's on purpose just so he could make it up afterwards)

Give it a few more months and maybe he'll take it to the next level.

ʚ ﹒ ﹕ ̟乀 all works belong to @worukin, do not repost on anywhere else with or without credit, do not plagiarise. ty!

[theoceansluvr]

Tim Drake x Baker! Reader

warnings; threats ? not against the reader or Tim author's notes; MY ALL TIME FAV !! I LOVE YOU TIM DRAKE😞 another indulgent work bc i haven't baked in years and every time i get a new favorite character i have to project my baking habits onto them <9 i yapped a lot but he's my lil guy so he deserves it

he LIVES for your baking

literally if you make pastries he's the first one to eat one and tell you how they're amazing

you might not be Alfred but he'll be damned if he says you aren't competing with him

i feel like he really likes scones ?? idk but make those and you have his whole heart

not that you didn't already-

he's a sucker for any kind of pastry really

he loves cupcakes and cookies don't get him wrong

but absolutely nothing beats muffins in the morning he doesn't care

specifically blueberry !

if your anything like me you hate other people being in the kitchen while you bake

and as much as he'd love to help you out

he's terrified of getting yelled at for trying to sample the batter

never again

but you do let him sit at the kitchen island while you work so he doesn't mind

since he's a tragic insomniac, you usually find yourself baking so he'll have something to eat at the wee hours of the night

he gives you a big ole kiss each time as thanks !

if you sell your stuff he makes absolute sure you get your money.

has ans will threaten to ruin someone's life over this

he means business when it comes to you

which also means chasing his brothers throughout the house because they stole the cookie that was left out for him.

every single time.

you've learned to just start making extras at this point because gods know these boys don't know how to behave

not Tim related but you've probably made Damian little animal shaped cookies

you are now his favorite person because of this. not that he'll ever tell you

back to Tim !

uses that good ole Wayne money to buy you the best stuff <9

only the finest ingredients for his rose i fear !

matching aprons even though he doesn't helpT^T

he thought they were cute and you couldn't argue

drops the worst hints whenever he wants you to make something like

"Oh wow you know what would be sooo good ? *Insert whatever baked goods you'd like*. It's so tragic we don't any.."

he's the worst and i love him

you bake every single one of his birthday cakes and nobody is complaining

it saves the time and energy PLUS everybody loves your baking !

and Tim slightly gets to brag about how good you are at it

(all of the Wayne kids show off their partners if you couldn't tell-)

he would LOVE spice cake and i can't explain why ?

sure he could eat any kind

but spice cake just does it for him

tried to bake you something once and he still hasn't gotten the flour out of his hair

Alfred almost had a heart attack when he found him on the kitchen floor with a cookbook

Tim made him swear to never tell you or anybody in the house..

it's a great wedding story though

he's your favorite and best taste tester as well ! he's fairly honest about what's good and what isn't

those detective skills also come to use with this for some odd reason ? can't explain why

with all that being said !

he's my absolute favorite man ever and he's perfect and he deserves everything i have ever baked !💛

[oddvanilla]

Dhar Mann might've been secretly a "villain" the whole time....

Pt.1 (?)

No, you're not hallucinating. You saw that title correctly. Believe it or not, I have had ridiculous beef for years with the man who many love, and even adore, Dhar Mann. And therefore, I'll be elaborating today on why such a "good person" like him is considered one of my sworn enemies, and why I think you should consider him one too.

Many people, and especially parents, assume that Dhar Mann is a great influence on kids, and a friendly individual. And although for the most part; that can be true, but you need to look at the bigger picture.

"The Dhar Mann Effect" is what I like to call it. A serious, and contagious virus that even the most experienced and hard-working doctors can't find the cure to. "What does the Dhar Mann effect do?" ...You may be asking. Well, great question! The Dhar Mann effect is when you form an addiction and obsession to watching the supposedly "short films" made by no other than Dhar Mann himself. And I'm not talking about a little, silly obsession. I'm talking about serious addictions that can lead into binge watching video after video non-stop. Such things should be taken far way solemnly.

And the prime example is my younger sister. Among many of my Dhar Mann-obsessed friends, I'd say she's the worst case. It started out around 2 years ago, when their substitute teacher played a Dhar Mann video at class (since many students have requested it), and ever since, she got hooked. I knew then that there was no coming back, she reached the "no-return" point.

I'd go as far as saying that it's like drugs to her. She can't survive a day without watching at least 3 videos in one sitting. And yes, that includes re-watching or re-visiting older videos. Trust me, it's deeper than just a "So you see...". My sister can qualify as an iPad kid, now, if I had to say so. And even currently, as I'm writing this, I can hear Jay's voice, One of Dhar Mann's most popular actors— playing from her room. I feel like it's not the same, and those damages may be irreversible. My poor sister can't live her life to the fullest anymore. All she does is wait for the new Dhar Mann video. And while she waits for the next one, she just rewatches his old videos, making sure she knows all the lore.

This is not a "haha" joke, people. This is dead serious. No joke. I'm not crossing my fingers. I'm not what nowadays kids call "capping 🧢". I'm being genuine and I'm typing this with the straightest face ever.

Another issue I have with Dhar Mann is how threatening he appears to me. I can promise you that if you look long enough into his smile, you'll realise it's slightly unsettling. Did you notice his face almost always looks the same in every picture? Well, you're probably not trippin'. That's because he has that same smile in literally every picture I could find of him.

What are the chances he might be a robot? Ready for the day we all fall for his spell and none of us are safe anymore, so he can finally strike? There is something so terrifying about him. Every time I look at that smile, I can't help but shiver a bit of fear. But mostly, I'm quite intimidated by his disturbing behaviour. The way he never fails to stare dead into our souls. That's what I find strange.

But hold up, the theories don't stop... at least not yet! Did you notice the way Dhar Mann ends every single one of his videos with "Hey Dhar Mann fam!" ??? What are the chances that he refers to us as his fam (family) to hide the fact we're probably stuck in his basement? If we're talking lore-wise, I'd say the reason Dhar Mann calls us his fam is the following: We're all chilling at our homes, until one day... A Dhar Mann video comes to our recommendations. By watching the media, you're secretly agreeing to sign an invisible contract that gives ol' Dhar the ability to adopt you. Child or not. And just because you're now part of his fam, doesn't mean he can't trap you into the basement and lock you up with multiple of many victims. The only time he'll ever check on you is when he comes in the basement and greets you with "Hey Dhar Mann Fam!" While feeding you those meaningless videos.

I'll show you a couple of examples, and YOU tell me what these videos could possibly teach kids who barely know what photosynthesis is.

Now, be real, just for a moment, WHY IS THE SECOND VIDEO A GODDAMN SERIES????? ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT ITS A CASUAL THING THAT THE PROTAGONIST EXPERIENCES ON SIMPLE OCCASIONS TO GET JUMPED???

I think another weird part is that Dhar Mann featured another EXTREMELY popular YouTuber named "Mr. Beast" many, many times, but even then— he feels this need to pull out knock off Mr. Beast...ahem ahem....Mr. "feast"...??????

No joke. Just search up "Dhar Mann Mr. Feast" and count how many videos come up. But if you're so lazy to check, it's 4. yea. 4 DAMN VIDEOS ABOUT A MR BEAST RIP OFF. YOU GUYS NEED TO WAKE UP AND REALISE THIS IS A MAN WITH A WIFE AND 2 KIDS.

And back to square one, What's the moral meaning behind this media he displays for the youth?

Not Dhar Mann (a multi millionaire) copying the "NO CHICK-FIL-A SAUCE?" girl???? Smh...

So... Do you think Dhar Mann is really the innocent "moral philosopher" he claims himself as? Or is it deeper than a "Hey Dhar Mann Fam"?. But either way, that's it for today. Thank you all for listening to my Ted Talk.

SORRY GUYS IM HIGH ON VITAMIN GUMMIES (AGAIN) AND LIKE I DO THINK DHAR MANN IS MY SWORN ENEMY BUT LIKE YALL BETTER NOT TAKE THIS /SRS LMAOOOO🙏🙏🙏

[reveluving]

I AM BACK AGAIN WITH MY HEAD IN HANDS AND HORNY BRUCE WAYNE ON MY MIND I NEED THAT MAN ABSOLUTELY INSANELY DESPERATE FOR BATMOM. SOMETHINNG ABOUT THE URGE.... DELICIOUS

BRB MICROWAVE NOISES ARE HAPPENING IN MY HEEEEAD 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

writing milf!Batmom was bound to happen at some point lol I was waiting for the day to finally happen fr fr SO HERE ❤

warnings: smut (18+ content, minors DNI!)

Look, with that many kids in the household, did you really think no one's going to talk about how sexy of a mother Mrs Wayne is?

Don't get me wrong, Bruce being called a DILF is not uncommon! Just look at him; a rich and respectable hunk of a man, who is also a father of six children and counting? So much hotter than when he was known as a playboy all those years ago. It was only natural for the public to talk about the missus in question as well.

Who could've possibly been the one to finally tame the Bruce Wayne and better yet, encouraged him into the married life?

You, obviously, and boy, did the public understand why.

No matter how much the media tries to deny it, they can never ignore your beauty, your grace, and dare I say, your MILF-ness.

C'mon, everyone's eyes were always on you the second you'd step foot into the gala. Oh, Mrs Wayne is here, in her new silky, silt-cut dress, matchint heels and jewellery that complements your every feature?

Sign me the fuck up!

You may have acknowledged the reputation bestowed upon you, but what you didn't realized was just how strong that power was.

But, of course, your reputation comes with a bit of a price to pay. Not by you, but by your children.

If there was one thing Dick, Jason and Tim were especially too familiar of hearing, especially on social media, it's about you, and the Internet can be very open with their thoughts. People are getting too comfortable on the app, as one would say.

While there was no denying that you were in fact beautiful, they were still your sons, and to see such language about you was almost as traumatic as seeing you and Bruce fooling around in bed.

• 'Mrs Wayne is so hot??? HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN HER IN THOSE HEELS??? GYAT'

• 'I've seen her IRL when I was visiting her café and let me tell you; photos do NOT DO HER JUSTICE 🥵'

• 'If my future husband and I don't give Bruce and (Y/N) Wayne energy, I don't want it ☝🏼🤨'

• 'mrs wayne's thighs appreciation: a thread that will having you SCREAMING [includes 10+ photos]'

That last one in particular had an intimidating number of likes, mind you. As if their own set of fans weren't a lot to deal with already.

But hoho, if we're talking about Bruce Wayne's opinion on the matter?

Picture this.

It's like watching an edit of your favourites; going from a random video of you adorably scrunching up your nose to BAM—a slow-mo of you looking like a literal model. How or where anyone's ever gotten that footage from was uncertain, but if you asked Bruce if he's ever seen that video before?

Chances are, he'd say yes.

Repeatedly, even.

Hell, he might've saved it somewhere, amongst other 'tresures', for educational purposes.

He acknowledges the fact that you may be a teenage boy's fantasy, the dream trophy wife of many men, regardless if they were in their lonesome or in a tasteless marriage, but in the end of the day, you were his, just as he was yours.

And while he has the means to save your most intimate moments via his greatest machines, he actually prefers the good ol' polaroid. Saving at least a couple of boudoir photos in his pocket, wallet, the Batmobile, locked away in one of the Batcomputer's rack and much more. Whether they're photos of you lying on your stomach cross-legged in your lingerie, or even a picture of the two of you, glistening in sweat and naked in front of the mirror, he never ran short of his precious 'supplies', and he has more where that came from.

Knowing he was the only one able to not only see you, but make you writhe and scream and cum in his bed—in your bed, around his cock? He could die a happy man, truly. And he'll do just about anything you ask him to, no question?

Want his fingers inside you while he smothers his face in between your breasts? Certainly.

Want him to lie back so you can straddle his face and make you cum with that talented tongue of his? You don't have to tell him twice.

Want him to take your dress and lingerie off so slowly, even though his cock is aching to be touched by those sweet hands of yours? Say no more.

That man is always hungry for you, borderline desperate even, but what's new.

But, if it ever goes down to you, or when the public gets too comfortable voicing out, especially in front of you, and it clearly rubs you the wrong way, best believe he'll do something about.

He doesn't need the comments of others to know how sexy of a woman his wife really is, after all.

I wanted to write smut for this, considering it is a milf!batmom after all, but we all know how long it takes for me to do that HAHA I hope y'all still liked this one tho! Please don't forget to leave some sugar! ❤

[lvrsparadise]

'ALWAYS.' - M.S

Synopsis - "You and me, always forever."

BASED ON THIS REQUEST

Warnings! - Kissing, profanity, Marylou being amazing, Nick defending Matt n Y/N, Use of Y/N, italics mean flashbacks (you know it's good when I use the flashbacks).

A/N - I literally love this, and I'm so happy I get to write it. Again, I'm sorry it's taken me this long to write this. So fun fact, the dad part is based on my dad. So little ole' fun facto there! I cried while writing this, it's so sweet. Enjoy!!

"Oh my god! Wait do you remember your 18th birthday?!" Nick randomly shouts out.

"Do I remember?? Of course I do. That was literally the best birthday I've ever had. No offense mom." I look at the camera.

Chris fake gags as he takes a sip from his drink and makes a shuddering noise, I just kick the back of his seat.

"Hey! Don't do that!"

I stick my tongue out to him before looking to Matt, our eyes catching for a few seconds as we both silently reminisce about that day.

"Would you like to share with the people why it was such an amazing birthday?"

"Oh, for sure."

I clear my throat and go through each memory of that day, from when I woke up until I went to sleep.

"To start off, I was woken up by my favorite people, and Chris."

"Hey!"

"And we spent the entire day out, courtesy of Marylou, love you, Marylou. And around I want to say 5 or 6 PM, when we all went back to my place, A LOT of people were there. We partied, and it was so much fun. And when it was time for me to open presents, the first one I opened was a binder. And I remember thinking, 'what in the world is this??'. So, I look to my amazing boyfriend, who was standing next to his mother with a shit eating grin on his face, and I open it up and instantly remember what it was."

"Oh my god, your face when you opened it was so priceless." Nick slaps my shoulder, not hard, but hard enough.

"Yeah, I was also crying!"

Everyone, even Chris giggles at my comment. I mean it's true. When I started to go through it, I was crying.

----

I set my energy drink on the table as I reach for a bag covered in glitter with the words 'happy birthday' on it.

"This is a nice bag." I say before ripping out the hot pink tissue paper and looking inside.

"The fuck is this? Oh! Sorry mom!" I dart my eyes to my mom as she rolls her eyes and smacks my shoulder at the curse word.

"Just open it hun!" My mom rests a hand on my shoulder as I take the binder out of the bag and setting it on the table.

I look at Matt, who's standing next to his mom, grinning like an idiot, confusion clear in my gaze as I arch a brow at him. He just waves his hand in a way saying, 'just open it'. So I do.

I flip the binder open, and my mouth falls open in an instant. The first page containing pictures of me and Matt, at least 9 years old, holding hands while I'm in the dress I wore to my mom and stepdads wedding, him in a red flannel, smiles on our faces, and chocolate.

"Oh. My. God. No way." I whisper to myself as I look back to Matt, grinning back at him before looking back down to the binder.

The page also has more pictures of us over the years. One picture I recognize all too well. A picture of me in a black hoodie, over-done eyeliner under my eyes and side swept bangs and instantly cringe at the memory of my embarrassing middle school years before flipping the page to see more pictures.

The picture that sticks out the most, is the picture of me and Matt at prom. Him in his peach pink button up, and my matching dress. I loved prom night.

"Wait what?!" Nick moves to my side with a hand on my shoulder as he looks at the pictures.

"Oh my god! This is that thing mom made for you and Matt when we were kids!"

"Yeah!"

Suddenly everyone gathers around the table, even Matt moving to my side with a hand resting on the small of my back as he looks at it with me.

"Oh my god! I remember this day!" I point to a picture of me and Matt in, I want to say 9th grade, maybe 8th, and we were passed out on each other, not a care in the world.

"That's the day I had my first soccer game. I was so exhausted."

"Yeah, and Matt was so exhausted from cheering you on." My mom and Marylou fist bump and giggle to themselves.

"What can I say? I love supporting my girl." Matt shrugs one shoulder as he uses his free hand to point to a picture of me in our senior year, laying on the beach with my way to floppy straw hat and stripped bathing suit like I was in 2015 again.

"Oh my god no. Not that photo." I make a face at the photo before I flip the page and am greeted with a whole collage of me and my dog, Raul.

I tear up at the photos, seeing as he passed away in the recent year.

"Matt." I turn my head to my boyfriend next to me and smile softly.

I've had that dog since I was maybe 7. So, not having him here for my 18th birthday is pretty sad. But the fact that he's in here, warms my heart.

He just kisses my forehead and gives my hip a reassuring squeeze as I return back to the photos.

"Oh my god! This is the day we got him!" I point to a photo of little seven-year-old me holding the oh so tiny Raul, which is ironically next to a photo of 15-year-old me with a much, much bigger Raul on my lap.

I flip the page again and Nick points to a photo of me, my brother, Matt, Nick, Chris, and Nate in skates, all in different jerseys, with large smiles and our thumbs up. Based on the color of my hair, we were maybe 13 or 14.

"That day was so much fun." Chris points out as he rubs one of my shoulders as small tears roll down my cheeks.

"It was." I smile before flipping the page again, and I feel like a train of memories hit me.

It a page dedicated to my dad, who passed away in 2020. I sniffle and wipe my cheeks before fully looking at each photo.

One is a photo of when I was maybe 5 and we were at his aunt's house in Colorado, with my brother, him, and his aunt. It still hurts to think about his death sometimes. He may not have had a really active role in mine or my brother's lives, but I still loved him. He really tried to make an effort. Even talked about moving closer to us to be more included in our lives. I mean, I get it. He was in the navy and moved around a lot.

I smile softly at a photo of my in his navy suit, although it swallowed me whole. Then there's a photo of me sitting on one of his knees and Matt on the other while Chris Nick and Nate are sitting on the floor with my brother, all of us intently focused on whatever he was reading us.

I flip the page and it's got a little piece of paper with the words 'Y/N bakes!' written on it, in Matt's handwriting.

The first photo I see is me with a large chef's hat and apron on, my hair in two little braids and a full toothy grin, one of my buck teeth missing, as I stir what looks to be batter, but there's flour everywhere. Even a handprint on my cheek I remember Chris put there.

"Oh my god!" I squeal quietly as I study the other photos of me baking various desserts. Always covered in flour.

"You were always the best little baker." I raise my eyebrows at my mom's comment.

"Still am." I point a finger at her and flip the page again, this page filled with my different Halloween costumes.

"That's the year we all went as different Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!" I point to a picture of me and Nick standing next to each other, dressed as Leo and Raph.

"Yeah, and I had to go as Master Splinter." Nate then points to a photo of me Nate and Chris standing together in a weird pose, mainly pointing at himself in a rat costume.

"But you made an amazing Master Splinter!" Nick whines.

"Are you secretly calling me short?!"

"What! No! Never!"

"Uh huh, sure."

I roll my eyes and go back to looking at the photos, my Corpse Bride costume catching my eye.

It's me as Emily, and Matt as Victor, our arms linked and a bouquet of wilted, white spraypainted roses in my hand. That was last year's costume, and we won first place in a costume contest.

Matt flips the page this time, and it's a plethora of photos of me and him, in random cuddling positions, every photo we are fast asleep.

"Who took these?!" My head snaps up as I nail everybody standing at the table with narrowed and squinted eyes, Nick whistling and looking around, totally not guilty at all.

"Nick?" I arch a brow and he just laughs and shakes his head.

"What? Y'all were just too cute."

I roll my eyes and look at all the photos. I remember being insanely comfortable in each and every one of them.

I flip the page to the last page that has more pictures of me and the whole group, including Madi who I met last year, and Tril. All of us fucking around and being dumb teenagers.

And the back of the last page has a letter in it.

To the light of my life, I'm so glad I met you so early on in my life, and I love the fact that you've put up with me for so long as well. I love you so much, and I can't imagine my life without you. I hope you never stop being yourself, and that you keep spreading your light everywhere you go and to everyone you meet. I feel like everyone should have a Y/N in their lives, you make everyone around you so happy, you make them feel included and like they matter and I thought I couldn't love you more. I know you're probably thinking, 'Matt, why'd you keep this?' or 'How did you find it?' Mom kept it safe, and she gave it to me in sophomore year and I kind of scrap booked it and just cut out photos of you and all of us and just kept adding to it as time went on. And I'm so glad I did. Happy 18th birthday my love, I'll love you, always and forever. Sincerely yours, Matthew.

My eyes soften and I turn my whole body to face Matt, wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, laughing tearfully.

"I love you too. So much."

He wraps his arms around me, his grip on me just as tight as mine as he presses a kiss to my temple.

We pull back after a minute or two and I wipe my face with a sigh and a sniff as I close the binder.

"Alright, can this next present liven the mood? I don't want to cry anymore."

I grab another bag and take the tissue paper out only to be greeted by a familiar shirt and a piece of wood on it. I refrain from nailing my mother with a look as I take the wood block out of the bag and read the words.

'Y/N'. It's just my name. But I vividly remember watching my grandfather make this as a kid. Meaning that the shirt is my granddads favorite shirt, that I loved just as much as he did.

I grab the shirt from the bag and have to hold back more tears.

"Mom." I let out in a strained voice, sniffling and wiping my nose.

She walks to me and envelopes me in a hug as I tearfully laugh in her arms.

She pulls away and I slip the shirt on over my dress and continue to open my presents, enjoying this evening with my closest friends and family.

At the end of the night, I ended up in the arms of the guy I love most, talking about the evening.

"My favorite part was when you opened the binder. You looked so happy to see those pictures." Matt speaks as he runs his hand through my hair.

"I was. And I am. I'm so happy you kept it. Even if it was just a silly little thing from when we were nine." I smile at the fond memory of the day we got 'married'.

"Do you think we'll actually get married one day?" I look up to his eyes as he smile and nods.

"Of course I do. Like I said, I don't think I could imagine my life without you. Being your husband would bring me nothing but happiness. I just want to be with you. No matter what."

I smile at his words and lean up from my spot on his chest and press our lips together.

"I love you Matt."

"I love you Y/N."

----

"That was literally the best night, and day, of my life."

"It was fun. The party was good."

"I think the food was the best thing." I roll my eyes. Because only Chris could say something like that.

"Of course you did Chris." Matt reaches back and holds my hand, sliding his thumb over my knuckles in a soothing way, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

"Alright, I think we're going to end this video here; I don't think I can handle any more of this." Chris waves his hand to where mine and Matt's hands are conjoined on the center console.

"Hey! Don't say that! I think it's adorable! Gives me hope for love."

"Thank you, Nick." I giggle out as Matt grabs the camera with his free hand and gives a close up of Chris's forehead before screaming into it, sending us all into fits of laughter.

After that, we finish our forgotten food that we didn't while we were explaining and reminiscing about my 18th birthday, and then we head back to their house.

Once we do, we all separate our different ways Nick to his room to edit, Chris to his to sleep probably, and me and Matt to his.

I walk into his room and go to sit on the bed, but hands around my waist turning me keep me from doing so.

Matt turns my body to his and envelops me in what might be the best kiss we've ever shared. It's long enough for our lips to turn red but short enough that we're not panting for breath when we pull apart.

" 'I'll love you, always and forever'." He mumbles while his lips are still pressed to mine, making me smile.

"I'll always love you too."

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