#i’m such a little kid i wish my mom was here i wish someone wanted to protect me and talk to me and at least try to understand me

[bo0zey]

being the oldest daughter raised by a narcissistic emotionally abusive father is just…👩‍🍳👌💋

[twoheadedfawnn]

peach is down i hve nowhere else to vent 😭

[luvsupa]

tags: neighbour!nanami x fem!reader, fluff-ish, crack, reader is in mid 20s and nanami is mid 30s, readers obsessed with nanami w.c: 800

you peek through the blinds in your living room, squinting for a better view of your neighbour. a frown crosses your face as you notice a gathering of children and mothers around his front door, which is beautifully decorated for halloween. you watch as the mothers twirl their hair and giggle in unison, but you still can’t see what your neighbour is wearing. you feel like a creep, lurking behind the blinds just to catch a glimpse of the new guy.

your heart races when you finally spot nanami. damn, he looks incredible in his costume—a vampire. you’ve heard whispers about the mysterious man who just moved in, and even the married women have been known to stand outside early in the morning just to greet him.

“do i seriously have to dress up?” you retreat from the window as you hear your nephew whine while entering the living room. you burst into laughter at the sight of him squeezing into the ghostbusters costume he wore a few years ago- the sleeves barely reach his wrists.

“well, yes!” you reply, snapping photos of him as he glares with frustration. in one picture, he slightly raises his middle finger, and you gasp, realizing he’s picking up on your habits. oops.

“i’m too old for trick ‘r treating! i don’t even wanna stay here,” he grumbles, his temper flaring as you giggle at the photos and send them to your sister, his mom, just as he threatens to rip off the costume.

“can you just behave? i’m trying to meet the love of my life,” you say, putting your phone away to prevent him from ruining your plans.

“he doesn’t even know you exist, dummy.” your jaw drops at his bluntness, and he starts pointing at you, laughing like a little brat.

“tch, you’re laughing a bit too much for someone who lost his girlfriend to a stuffed animal,” you retort, laughter spilling from your lips as he shoots you a ‘really’ look.

“at least i was in a relationship! dunno about you, hag,” he fires back, leaving you choking on a laugh. seriously, who’s teaching this kid all this at twelve years old?

you don’t say anything as you pull him toward the front door, making him put on his shoes and grab his trick or treat bag before stepping outside. your gaze is fixed on nanami’s house, now swarming with kids and mothers.

i know why you mothers are here…

“ow, let go!” your nephew winces, pushing your hand away from his shoulder as you realize you’ve been gripping him too tightly. you both end up in a long line in front of his house because these mothers won’t leave! impatience gnaws at you- you just want a chance to see him.

finally, you reach the front of the line, and you scold your nephew to behave before giving him a gentle push toward the door.

“trick or treat.” he says in an unenthusiastic tone, while you stand behind him, practically buzzing with excitement. nanami steps outside with a fresh batch of candy, smiling at your nephew’s costume. when his hazel eyes shift to yours, your breath hitches.

he definitely wants me.

“your son is so adorable,” he says.

what?

oh hell no.

“son? n-no, he’s my nephew! he was dying to come to your house,” you stammer, and he chuckles, revealing his fake fangs.

“what? you forced me—” your nephew starts, but you quickly cover his mouth to prevent him from ruining everything, sharing a warm chuckle with nanami as you stand awkwardly on his doorstep.

“d-do you have any kids?” you ask, hoping he says no. your heart would shatter if he did.

“ahh, no, i don’t—though i do wish to have a family of my own someday,” he admits, and you nod, intrigued by his almost wistful tone.

“yeaaa, i want a family with you—of my own too!” you blurt out, instantly regretting your words as his smirk widens, and your eyes practically sparkle with embarrassment.

“she stalks you everyday,” your annoying nephew pipes up, and you feel your face heat up as you wish you could disappear. nanami quirks his brows in surprise, bursting into laughter, while you stand frozen, your eyes twitching. seriously, someone needs to watch for this kid.

“heh, she’s not the only one,” he replies, and you swear you must be dreaming. nanami quickly grabs something from inside his house, scribbles on a notepad, and attaches it to your nephew’s bag of candy before handing the candy directly to you.

you’re so starstruck you can’t move as your nephew tugs on your arm, dragging you away while the interaction feels surreal. you walk past the mothers, who scoff at you, and hear him wish the two of you a happy halloween.

you glance down at the notepad he gave you:

I’ll be waiting for your call, stalker

nanami kento

you gasp, noticing his phone number written beneath it. you just bagged the hottest man alive and these mothers didn’t.

“you two are a buncha freaks,” your nephew comments as he pulls you back toward your house. honestly, you don’t care—you’re just so thrilled that you’re the one he chose.

[antiquarianfics]

Better Than Us

Being a woman is hard, and it’s not necessarily something you’d wish on another.

A/N: Comfort fic because I’m sad and I have not stopped thinking about that scene in Barbie. Warnings: Mentions of sexism, mentions of self-loathing/body issues. Not really proofread. Genre: Angst/Fluff Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy or repost my work; however, you may like, comment, and reblog.

——

“Congratulations, Mom and Dad, it’s a girl!” The sonographer says, hitting a few more buttons on the ultrasound. “Your baby girl is looking great. I’ll get the sonograms printed off for you to take home, get you cleaned up, and get you out of here. Alright?��

You stare at the sonogram, watching as your baby moves around in your uterus.

Congratulations, Mom and Dad, it’s a girl!

Mom and Dad, it’s a girl.

It’s a girl.

A girl.

Bucky watches you, and when you don't respond to the sonographer after a while, he turns to her and nods.

“Thank you.”

She smiles and nods as she takes a wipe and cleans the gel off your stomach. When she finishes, she smiles and excuses herself to go grab the sonogram photos from the printer in another room.

You pull your shirt down and sit up on the exam table.

“You all right, Sweetheart?” Bucky asks, concern laced in his voice. He gently run his hand through your hair comfortingly.

You lean into his touch before looking up at him and forcing a smile. You’re attempting to be reassuring, but he seems to see through it, you think. Bucky lets it go, though, and kisses your forehead.

——

You’re quiet for the rest of the day, and it worries Bucky. Usually after a doctor’s appointment, you’re giddy; you love getting news about your unborn child.

“Bucky! The baby’s the size of a grapefruit now! Isn’t that crazy?”

“Buck, did you know our baby has fingernails already? Wild.”

“Holy shit! Holy shit! James, come here! The baby just kicked!”

Bucky was always just as excited to hear about his child, and he was expecting to be celebrating finding out the sex. However, ever since the words “it’s a girl” were uttered, you’d been quiet.

“Could she be disappointed?” Bucky wonders, but it seems so unlikely he pushes the thought aside.

When the majority of the day passes without you saying much or expressing any excitement about your daughter, Bucky can’t help but confront you.

“Y/N? Doll?” He asks, a little nervous.

You’re sitting on the couch, fiddling with the blanket across your lap, and the TV on and ignored in front of you. You hum in acknowledgement, but you don’t meet his gaze.

“Doll,” he says again, moving to sit next to you, bringing his hand gently to your face so that he can divert your gaze to his. “Is everything alright? You’ve been quiet since the appointment.”

You clench your jaw, obviously anxious. Perhaps a little angry with yourself.

“You’ll be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because you’re gonna realize you’re having a baby with someone who’s going to be a terrible mother.”

Bucky is taken aback. You’re so sincere that it scares him.

“Y/N, honey, you’re not going to be a terrible mother. Why would you think that?”

You look away from him to try and hide your impending tears.

“We’re having a girl.”

“And that means you’re going to be a terrible mother?” Bucky’s eyebrows scrunch together. He is absolutely not following.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just. We’re having a girl, and I should be excited, but I’m not. I’m going to be—no, I am—a terrible mother because I’m upset I’m having a daughter.”

Bucky is still not following, and his hesitance to respond pushes you to keep going.

“It’s not that I don’t want a daughter. It’s that being a woman really sucks. One day you’re a kid, playing with Barbies, playing tag, making up games no one else understands, and the next day you’re so self conscious about random things; and men look at you when you don’t want them to; and people make fun of you for liking anything; and no matter how good you are at your job, people still question if you should have it.

“I remember the first time I was aware my stomach was bigger than it should be to be considered pretty. I was in the 5th grade, Buck. I was standing in line to throw my lunch away and go to recess, I looked down at my feet, and I saw my stomach. I remember sucking it in and never stopping. And when I told my mom, she didn’t tell me not to. She didn’t tell me I was healthy, and a kid, and that I was beautiful without sucking my stomach in. No. She praised me. Told me she did the same thing. Said it strengthens our abs and makes us healthier when it really messes with your breathing, and reshapes your body, and-“

You cut yourself off with your own tears. You’re immediately pulled into Bucky’s arms as he moves to soothe you; a comforting hand slides up and down your back, soft kisses are pressed to your forehead, and sweet nothings and reassurances meet your ears.

When you finally calm down some, Bucky pulls away, grasping your shoulders and holding you just far enough away to look into your eyes.

“Listen, I hear you. The way women are treated—the way you’re treated—sucks. It really does. But it’s a lot better than when I was a kid, and it takes women like you recognizing that the way you’ve been treated is wrong and working to make it better for your daughters. The fact that you’re upset for your daughter—not about her—means you’re a good mom. And I know you’re gonna do everything you can to instill confidence in her and let her be a kid as long as possible. And we are going to teach her how she should be treated, and we are going to teach her how to stand up for herself.

“And if we ever have a son, we’ll teach him to respect women. Not to ogle or harass them. We’ll raise our kids to be better than we are.”

Bucky’s speech takes you off guard. You’d expected him to tell you you were being dramatic. You’d expected him to tell you that you should just be happy about having a daughter regardless of what that entails.

You’d expected him to act like every man that he was not.

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“I’m not a bad mom?”

“You’re not a bad mom.”

A pause. You catch your breath; Bucky holds you close.

“Hey, Bucky?” You say after a while.

“Hmm?” He hums. He is gently massaging your scalp to comfort you as he holds you.

“We’re having a girl!” You pull back to look at him, a smile across your face. You’ve finally processed the day, its revelations, and Bucky’s assurances, and you’re finally ready to be happy.

“We’re having a girl,” Bucky agrees, smiling and kissing your forehead.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

hey ari, i’m truly having an awful night. there’s a free pass for anything that involves someone being protective against a shitty guardian/parental figure. i wish jason todd would’ve kicked my dads ass tonight.

Lee took to Alfred much more warmly, peppering him with little boy questions about dinosaurs and oddly enough... piccolos? Which made the butler wonder if there was not a single neurotypical person in the entire family.

Adorable. He was enchanted. All dimples and curls. He'd carried Alfred a mug of tea managing to only spill half of it on the floor for the boxer and the wolf hound. And to get under your feet nearly causing you to fall twice- managing to get exiled to play outside with his dog.

It was a lovely afternoon. Watching Jason be so... soft. So helplessly in love with his wife and his children. Excited to be a new father. He enjoyed doting on his wife and fussing over his kids. He was comfortable in the vintage kitchen and the narrow halls. He liked the routine. Coming home to something stable.

When you started stretching your back in your kitchen chair, Jason smiled a little, "C'mon, let's get you on the couch."

"I'm fine, I just needed to-"

"Let's please not have to take you back to the hospital," Jason coaxed, helping you to your feet. "I'll tell Lee he needs to run in sight of the bay window every so often."

You snort and let him help you, grateful that he's strong enough to catch you if you need him to. It's comforting. He's comforting. Between his bulk beside you and Boris behind you. By the time he has you on the sofa you already feel better. At least until your phone rang.

"Hello?"

Jason frowned. He could tell from the look on your face who it was and he got Alfred seated listening with half an ear. Your biological father wanted money. Again. Either to have it put on his books or your sisters.

It hardly mattered. The divorce happened. Battle lines got drawn. You chose mom Mandy chose dad. Now you raised Mandy's kids and got "everything handed to you" as far as she could tell. Never mind trusts and adoptions. Or love. Or duty.

He gave Alfred a meaningful look and took a deep breath. Your biological dad and your sister were both banned. They both had no contact orders. And the second they upset you he'd be hanging up.

Your voice cracked. And tears fell.

And gently but firmly Jason plucked the phone from your hand, "If you're that fucking worried about Mandy's books use store brand instead of name brand for your meth and cut costs. Figure it out. Call here again and I'll report you to your PO." But before he could reply he hung up.

"Jay-"

"Shh," he soothed, "don't cry baby girl."

"God I hate it."

"I know," he hummed, wrapping his arms around you. "But you're doing good. Just breathe." He broke off and wiped your face, kissing your forehead, "I can't get you a shot but I can get the baby a snack," he teased, "what do they want?"

"Milk chocolate sea salt caramel truffles," you tell him.

He grinned and kissed your nose before standing up, "Alfred, did you feel up to going to the store with me or do you want to stay and keep Y/N company?"

"Well obviously," Alfred said sipping a fresh cup of tea, "I'm going to stay here and be nosey."

"Ky it is," Jason said, "I'll take a kid and a grocery list... then maybe we won't come home with half the cereal aisle."

"We hope," you tell him smiling.

"Shh," Jason said. "Be nice to me and I'll buy more than one bag of truffles."

"You should probably do that anyway," Alfred observed. "For practical reasons."

[lunajay33]

Not the Only One

•🌪️🍂🪵🏹•

Summary: Reader comes from an abusive family and is insecure about it showing up everywhere with bruises, but one night she comes across Daryl who is more like you than you know

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Content Warning: Abusive parents

•Masterlist•

Growing up in a small town in Georgia can have its benefits, close friend group, late night walks, fun memories, but not for some, not for me I get the other side of a small town, the rough crowd and the judgmental stares from the well of kids who’s parents gave them everything they wanted

I never thought there was a problem with the way I lived as a kid but the older I got and realized that not everyone lives with abusive, negligent parents it was world shaking for me and I felt like a complete loser and I still do, I don’t have much some simple clothes and some drugstore perfume and makeup but that’s about it, others girls in my class had expensive name brand everything and judge those like me who didn’t

My dads drunk and takes his problems out on me, my moms a coward and won’t stand up for me so here I am walking around school with a cut down my eyebrow with a nasty bruise forming around

“What happened y/n old man beat on you again” Jessie says laughing as she walks by with her little click, I look back into my locker getting my books for science class sighing not ready for the day ahead full of more comments like that

I walk into Mr.jensons class taking my seat at the back, some people whispering as I walk through the class

“Okay class we have a new student transfering to our class from a different course, obvious people like me more than miss.smith’s music class” he says obnoxiously as the student enters our class

Daryl Dixon he lived a few houses down from me but we didn’t interact much, sometimes I’d see him take out the trash or see him sitting on the doc on the lake behind our houses, it was rumoured that his dad beat on him too but it’s not like we were gonna be friends because we’re abused that crazy…..right?

“You can go sit at the back next to y/n” Mr.Jenson points out to me

He sits down and I can smell his calming aroma, woodsy with a hint of cigarette

“Hi” I smiled meakly

“Hey, ya live on my street don’t ya” he asks slouching down in the chair

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around” so he’s seen me too

“Alright class listen up” the class went on like usual until the bell rang signalling the end of the day, I gathered up all my stuff shoving them in my bag and leaving the class, walking through the hallways heading for the exit when someone runs up next to me

“Hey, ya walking home?” Daryl asks looking down at me

“Oh yeah, I usually like to sit at the doc when I get back, don’t like to stay in the house much”

“Why not?” He asks as he continues to walk beside me back to our street

“I think you know, everyone talks about it” I say motioning to my bruised eyebrow

“They don’t understand, ain’t yer fault”

“It’s just……embarrassing” I say rubbing my arm as a nervous habit

“Yer old man?”

“Yeah, you?” He nods in agreement looking down

“Pretty shitty, wish I could just get out of here or just start fresh here” he hums making my heart warm, finally someone understands how I feel

We got to our street stopping infront of my house

“So ummm I’ll be down at the doc later if you wanna meet me there just to talk or whatever” I say

“Yeah I’ll see ya there” he says heading off to his house a few doors down

I walked into my house hoping nothing happens today, seeing my dad sat on his chair with a beer in his hand watching the tv

I try to walk past him to my room when he grabs my wrist

“Did you pick up the cigarettes from the store like I asked?” His voice is already angry, I completely forgot

“I……I forgot, I’m sorry” I whine as he tightens his grip

“Why can’t you ever listen, you know what this means”

“No please I’m sorry I’ll go get them now”

“It’s too late”

Sitting on the doc was suppose to be a wind down form the day an escape from hell that is suppose to be a house, instead I’m sat here feeling like I went solar against concrete, my lip is busted severely, by cheek stings, bruises and whips against my back, the hoodie I’m wearing was irritating against my sore flesh

I’d do anything just to go back in time and run away with my sister but I was scared and young and now I’m miserable and constantly afraid

“Hey sorry I’m late” I heard from next to me, too deep in thought to have heard him approach

I kept my head down looking at the water

“It’s fine” I mumble

“Ya okay?” That one simple question broke the damn in me as tears spilled down my cheeks, I turn to him just wanting reassurance or comfort

“I forgot to get a pack of cigarettes on the way home” my voice quivers as he stares at my red cheek and bust lip

“How am I even suppose to cover this up”

“I could go kill him” he huffs anger rising in his features

“Everything hurts” I wince when he places his hand on my back, he pulled back quickly

“Do ya need help?”

“I don’t know how bad they are”

He moves behind me lifting my sweater up to my shoulders, revealing the old and new scars that littered my back with occasionally fresh bruises

“Oh baby girl I’m so sorry” he says under his breath but there was something there in his words that made it feel like he understood this type of beating

“Are they bad?”

“Don’t think ya need stitches but I don’t want ya going back there” he says bringing my sweater back down moving beside me again

“But where am I suppose to go?”

“Old man’s gone for a week, ya can stay at my place”

“Are you sure I don’t want to burden you”

“Ain’t a burden, yer staying with me, come on”

His house was more or less just like mine but there is no surprise there, our fathers are basically the same, he brings me to his room and it’s pretty normal, some hunting stuff plain brown walls

“Thanks for this” I say sitting on the edge of his bed

“ ‘course, ya need anything?”

“Do you have any painkillers?” He went in his drawer and popped one in my hand, taking it hoping it will ease this discomfort

He jumped on the bed sitting next to me as a comfortable silence surrounds us

“I got em too”

“Huh?”

“Scars, don’t like to show em, don’t like to be reminded”

“I’m sorry Daryl, one day we’ll be happy, one day we’ll get out of this mess”

“Together”

Part.2

Taglist: @l0kilaufeys0n7 @stoner420things69 @pinchofthetwd @thestonedwriter @daryldixmedown @deansapplepie @ghostboneswrites2 @superbowlisgay @daryls-wife @pinkratts @daryl-dixons-left-hand @mrrumplebottom @twistedprincess-92 @addi1978 @wongcena @darylspersonalwhore @starrqi @heidiland05 @livlaughlove03

[in1-nutshell]

For the Ratchet and Drift adoption battle.  

The Lost light ends up on earth for some reason.  And trouble appears, Buddy’s birthparents.  Coming out of the woodwork demanding to see their child.  Now, depending on how long Buddy has been in the system, the state may have already relinquished their parental rights, but it does bring up another problem, by cybertron standards, Buddy is legally Drifts and Ratchets, Earth standards, less so.

This is just the start of an idea.  Maybe it's angst and the parents are a piece of shit who want the child who they abandoned back for some really selfish reason.  Maybe the parents truly do want some relationship with their child and poor buddy is just stuck in between the family that loves them and the family who they spent their life wishing loved them.

Maybe I just want the lost light to turn this custody battle into a fucking kangaro court.  They show up in their holoforms and Rodimus starts to boo whenever the birth parents try to say something.  He’s kicked out and the court goes into recess as they try and figure out how to hold him in contempt of court.  Luckily a good part of the remaining crew have assembled to always have someone audibly cough whenever birth parents try to speak.  Nevermind the fact that none of them even really need to breathe, holoform or no holoform.  And Ultra Magnus is acting as their attorney.  That's all I got.

The bio parents were done for the moment Magnus took on the case.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy (Dratchet's kid) meeting their bio parents again

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight angst, Human reader

MTMTE

The ship had docked again on Earth for a mandatory, in-person, meeting that Buddy needed to go as liaison of the Lost Light.

It was something simple check in that honestly could have been done online but there wasn’t any harm in some sightseeing. Many of the bots on the ship hadn’t been on Earth or hadn’t been there in a while and wanted to look around.

Buddy stayed with Drift and Ratchet.

Before they headed back to the ship, Buddy wanted to show their bot parents one of their favorite parks they used to go to feed the pigeons.

Ratchet napped in the parking lot, while Drift activated his holoform to go after Buddy.

After a bit Drift started heading back to his alt mode with Buddy trailing behind after forgetting their water bottle at the bench.

Buddy walking back to Drift alt mode.

“Hey kiddo!”

“Buddy turns around and freezes as their face collides with someone’s chest.

A familiar chest.

They push themselves off the person as another person comes up too.

“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”--Buddy

“That’s what I’d like to know.”--Drift

Buddy looks behind them to see Drift’s holoform marching up to Buddy.

He gently places his hand on their shoulder and looks at the two humans.

“A who might you be?”--Drift

“I’m their father.”--Dad

“And I’m their mother.”--Mom

Drift raises his eyebrows.

“Buddy are they…”--Drift

“My biological parents? Yes, and I thought I’d never see you again after you put me in the system.”--Buddy

Neither of the parents get the little hint of venom in their voice.

“Well, we’re here now! And its time to take you home—”--Mom

“Take them home?”--Drift

“Take me home?”--Buddy

“That’s right Pal—”--Dad

“My name is Buddy.”--Buddy

“Whatever, we’re going home now, so if you’d just come here.”--Dad

The ‘Dad’ tries to grab Buddy’s wrist, but Drift pushes Buddy back.

The ‘Dad’ narrows his eyes at Drift.

“Are we going to have a problem here?”--Dad

Drift narrows his eyes as well.

“I think we are.”--Drift

Buddy’s eyes widen.

“Listen everyone, HE is legally my main guardian. Has been with my other guardian for a while now.”--Buddy

The ‘Mom’ huffs.

“Well until WE see the paperwork, if its not justified by the court here then its null and void for us. Now get over here and—”--Mom

“And what’s happening here?”--Ratchet

Buddy smiled at Ratchet’s holoform coming overlooking more annoyed than usual.

“These are Buddy’s biological parents.”--Drift

Ratchet’s eyes narrow and stands by Buddy’s side.

“The parents that put you in the system?”—Ratchet

“Yep.”--Buddy

The ‘Mom’ starts getting more annoyed.

“That’s in the past and we’ve already settled a court order to get Pal—”--Mom

“Buddy.”—Buddy, Drift and Ratchet

“—Back to us.”--Mom

Ratchet turns to Buddy.

“Wait in the ambulance.”--Ratchet

“But—”--Buddy

“Kid, trust me. We need to have a chat with your ‘parents’.”--Ratchet

Buddy looks at them all before walking to Ratchet’s alt mode.

Buddy wordlessly goes to the ambulance while the muffled yelling was heard outside.

They just strap themselves in the back and hug themselves tightly.

Everything went so fast…

They felt their seatbelt tighten.

It’s a heavy quiet on the drive back to the ship.

When they transformed Ratchet passed them to Drift who just holds them to his chassis.

A crew meeting was called.

“So, Buddy’s bio parents want them back because, and I quote ‘We want to embrace them once again!’. Am I missing something?”--Rodimus

“That’s about it.”--Drift

Half of the bots laugh.

“Good luck with that! Buddy’s legally Dratchet’s kid!”--Whirl

“Whirl we’ve talked about the name—”--Cyclonus

“Yeah! They’re Dratchet’s kid!”--Tailgate

“…Why do I even bother with you?”--Cyclonus

“But they did bring up a point, Earth courts and legal system don’t see Buddy as their kid. Meaning to them, Buddy’s still in the system. And if they play their cards right…”--Megatron

Drift and Ratchet stiffen at the thought.

The crew starts talking amongst themselves but all feel angry at this revelation.

“We can’t let that happen!”--Nautica

“That’s why we’re going to court to fight for Buddy’s case. Ultra Magnus has agreed to represent Buddy—”--Megatron

“Those Fleshy’s are so screwed!”--Whirl

Time to take this to court.

Buddy is put into a different home while the case gets settled.

Meaning no contact with anyone.

There had been attempts by the bots to go and see Buddy, but they complied hearing that any visit could jeopardize their position in custody.

Thank goodness Magnus was there to help with the court case and legal things.

Also to help mediate the humans and the bots ‘immature’ actions.

So many of the bots in their holoforms were making obnoxious noises (cough* Rodimus and Whirl*cough).

There were more breaks because of this.

No one of the bots are happy to see the parents when come to the stand, fuming when the pair put on an act.

Even going as far as stating that Drift and Ratchet were unfit parents, not being the same species.

Something strange happens the day when Buddy is supposed to take the stand.

Everyone is asked to come back the next day for the final verdict.

All the bots are confused and worried.

Ratchet and Drift are especially worried about what happened.

Today would have been the first time the pair or anyone would have seen Buddy, and all of a sudden, the day they are supposed to take the stand no one is allowed to see them?

Something is wrong and they can feel it.

The pair find solace in each other while riding high on anxiety.

What if the court decided they truly weren’t fit to raise their human kid?

Would Buddy have to leave the Lost Light for good?

There were too many questions going through their processors right now.

The next day Magnus is updated on what happened yesterday.

The next day the bots and bio parents come in.

Buddy is sitting behind a desk far from everyone else in the room with a guard by their side.

“Ultra Magnus and the crew of the Lost Light, in the case of the legality of the adoption document of Buddy, the jury recognizes that Drift and Ratchet are the legal guardians and will be formally recognized in the system here on Earth.”--Judge

All the bots are floored and cheer hearing the news.

Ratchet and Drift smile the happiest of the bunch.

“Excuse me? What makes these aliens even fit to raise a human child, our child Pal—”--Mom

“Their name is Buddy, Fleshy.”—Whirl and most of the bots

Magnus clears his throat getting everyone’s attention.

“To begin with, you two are charged with attempted kidnapping and aggravated assault of a minor.”—Magnus

The bots behind him eyes go wide.

The parents themselves go pale.

The police start cuffing the bio parents as they squawk in shock.

“What is the meaning of this!? Unhand us!”--Mom

“You have no right—”--Dad

“IF I may!”--Magnus

Magnus ‘clears his throat and intently stares at the parents with hatred in his holoforms eyes.

“You attempted and succeeded in breaking and entering the home where Buddy had been staying and attempted to take them to an unknown location against their will. They fought the both of you off sustaining injuries to both hands and you two fled the scene on foot back to your respected household to pretend that this ‘incident’ never happened the next day.”--Magnus

The bots behind him have a mixture of shock and anger on their faces.

Drift is glaring at the parents wanting nothing more than to punch them square in the jaw.

Ratchet is trying to look over at Buddy for any injury he could spot from where he was sitting.

Magnus looks at Buddy.

“Buddy, if you may show your hands.”--Magnus

Buddy reveals thick bandages on both arms and hands.

“I do believe that is enough evidence. The biological parents are set to a new court date to address these charges. The court once again recognizes Drift and Ratchet as Buddy’s legal guardians, court dismissed.”--Judge

With the swing of the gabble the parents are escorted out screaming and kicking, while Buddy is escorted to a different door.

Once the bots are outside, they can see Buddy running to them with arms wide open.

Drift and Ratchet open their arms as Buddy crashes right into them crying and wrapping their arms around them.

Drift is crying and ratchet is on the borderline of doing so too.

Ratchet carefully looks at Buddy’s wrapped hands.

“Those two good for nothings just wanted to get me back to get my income.”--Buddy

“We can add more charges to their case.”—Magnus

“We can jump them!”—Whirl

Buddy chuckles a bit.

“I think the grapefruit sized marks are enough for now.”--Buddy

Buddy pulls out a wrench from their pocket.

“Learned how to throw from the best.”—Buddy

Ratchet hugs them again as Drift joins in a second later.

The bots all head back to the Lost Light.

Ratchet and Drift never letting go of Buddy for an instant.

[callumsluvr]

summer loving

After a long car ride, your family’s car finally pulls up to the front of the expansive main lodge for the lake resort. Once you get settled into the private house, you excuse yourself from your parents to take a look around and stretch.  

While getting ready for dinner, you call your friend from home, Gia. “Babe! Any cute boys?” Gia asks as soon as she answers the phone. 

“I haven’t even seen anyone up close yet. But, I doubt it.” You say, curling your lashes. 

“Seriously? Ugh. You need to find someone while you’re there. I mean- are you seriously going to spend the whole summer with just your parents at this stupid camp?” She responds. 

“I dunno, G. It’s the first day- and there’s no point. I don’t want anything long distance and what about Peter?” You say, cleaning up your makeup products and shoving them back into your bag. 

“Forget Peter! He’s a loser, you know that. Plus, what do you really think he’s doing in D.C? You think he’s spending the whole summer at a UN Summer Camp and not flirting with girls?” She says, sighing and moving around on her bed.

“He’s passionate about it. Maybe he’s really just involved, you know…” You sigh, slipping on your shoes. “Give me a break, Y/N/N. You deserve better than Peter. Maayyybbeee he’s there right now.. Hm? Good luck. Have fun at dinner.” 

“Bye, G, love you.” 

“Byeeeee!”

---

“The Cameron’s will be joining us for dinner tonight.” Your dad says, while looking at the mirror in the front hallway in the private house, fixing his tie. “Who?” You say, standing next to him, fixing your lipgloss. “Y/N, The Camerons. We talked about Ward in the car here. You went to summer camp with his son, Rafe.” He says, turning to look at you. 

“Rafe?” You say, furrowing your eyebrows, “What kinda name is Rafe?” 

“Y/N.” He sighs, “If it helps, his name is Rafferty, but he goes by Rafe, he always has.”

You giggle. 

“Rafferty? Does Mr. Cameron hate his son or something?” 

“Y/N.” He sighs, moving to the door when your mom comes out, dressed for dinner. 

---

Once you and your parents walk to the main lodge for dinner, you get stuck listening to an old man talk to your parents for fifteen minutes. Suddenly, you’re praying that Rafferty and his family shows up, insteading of wishing they’d call and say someone was sick and can’t make it. 

Conveniently, once you wish that, your father’s face lights up, looking at the entrance. “If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Graham, our dinner guests are here.” He says, shaking the old mans hand, and walking towards Mr. Cameron, while your mom stands up to greet them, pushing you to stand up, subtly. Mr. Cameron walks confidently with his wife slightly behind him, and a trio of kids who look less than excited to be at a hidden business dinner. 

“Ward!” Your father exclaims, shaking Mr. Camerons hand. “You know my wife, and this is my daughter, Y/N.” You give the whole group a tight smile, shaking Mr. and Mrs. Camerons hand, before everyone moves to sit down. While your mom pushes you out of your chair so that Mrs. Cameron, whose name you learned was Rose, could sit next to her. 

You end up sitting in between Rafe and a girl a little younger than you. Rafe gets sat next to your father, and across from his father, and he seems unbelievably displeased about it. 

The girl on your right turns to you. “I’m Sarah, it’s nice to meet you.” She smiles.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You smile back, happy that you didn’t have to make the first introduction. 

“That’s Rafe, and this is Wheezie.” She says, pointing to the younger girl on her right. 

“How did you-”

“Get the name Sarah?” She laughs softly, and you nod. “Rafe’s name is Rafferty, still stupid if you ask me. But, Wheeze’s real name is Louisa.” 

You smile at her joke, and nod. 

---

During the dinner, you promptly ignore the men at the table, mainly talking to Sarah, but also answering questions about school and colleges from Rose, and listening to Wheezie talk about the latest book she’s reading. 

However, it was physically impossible to ignore the, shamelessly, beautiful boy on your left, who smells good, and is much taller than you thought. Not forgetting how nice his arms look in his suit and, Peter had completely left all of your thoughts when you accidentally brushed Rafe’s leg when you bent down to fix your shoe.

---

The next day, your mom had a scheduled salon appointment with Rose Cameron and your father wanted to mingle with potential businessmen at the men’s lounge. 

This meant you were left completely to your own devices, deciding to go to a lakeside morning yoga session that Sarah had also drug Wheezie to, so you joined them.

---

Rafe had waken up late, his father had told him about the men’s lounge and how it would be good for connections, hinting that Rafe should join him, but in his opinion, he was tired of connections and needed a break. 

He pulled a shirt on, and stumbled out of the private house, realizing that it was completely empty, he walks to the kitchen to see Sarah had written on a lime green post it note and stuck it to the countertop, “Taking Wheeze to yoga, Rose at salon, Dad gone to lounge. Meet for lunch at 12.” 

He looks at the time displayed on the stove, 11:45. 

---

“Will you come to lunch with us? I promise that Rafe will be better company this time around.” Sarah pleads, in her hot pink matching lulu lemon set.  Wheezie nods, pushing up her glasses, “He always gets so tense around dad. I think it’s dumb, but he always does.” Sarah gives you a look, almost begging you not to push that topic further. You nod, “Okay, sure. I’ll come, but only if you’re sure he won’t mind.”

Once you, Sarah, and Wheezie show up to the resturatnet in the lodge, you see Rafe already sitting at a table near the large floor to ceiling windows overlooking the lake. 

He watches the three of you walk over, as Wheezie finds a seat next to him, while you stand awkwardly, waiting for Sarah to sit across from Rafe. Naturally, however, she doesn’t and she gives Wheezie a look as she sits across from her, forcing you to sit across from Rafe, smiling awkwardly as you make eye contact with him. 

Sarah and Wheezie excuse themselves to use the restroom. Once they’re out of earshot, the boy sighs, looks out to the lake, and straightens his back, “I’m uh- I’m Rafe, by the way, I don’t think I ever actually introduced myself.” He says, turning his head to look back at you. 

You smile softly, “Y/N.” 

He nods, “Nice to meet you.” You take a sip of water, “you too.” 

i hope you girlies liked this chapter, it's a little slow rn sorrryyyy, let me know if you're liking it and if there's anything you'd like to see, i'm totally down to incorporate things into the story MWAH

taglist: @sunny1616 @haruvalentine4321

[hihello-pinky]

Sight (4)

Suna Rintarou x F! Reader

Sometimes, it takes losing someone to finally see them. He wished he knew this before, but Rintarou had to learn this the hard way.

WARNINGS: descriptive smut, foul language, implied multiple rounds of sex

WC: 2.7k

Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and in no way represents my views of the original anime/manga characters.

Here's part 4! As usual, thank you for waiting for the update. This is quite a short chapter and you can treat it as an extended calm before the storm.

Spoiler alert for the next part: that's where all hell breaks loose HAHA (okay, maybe an exaggeration).

Kindly reblog and/or leave a comment if you liked this short update!

part one part two part three

kofi ~

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️

˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚

If someone told you a few months ago that one morning you’d wake up to the sight of your husband watching you intently while you slept, you would have laughed at their face and dismissed them.

But alas, here you are, slowly blinking the sleep away from your eyes as you make out Rintarou���s face. You half expect him to turn away and pretend he wasn’t watching you but to your surprise, he only raises an eyebrow at you. “Morning”.

You try to sit up but immediately groan as your body protests in pain. Rintarou chuckles a little as he offers help. “Too sore?”

“And whose fault is that?” You retort as you let him help you while at the same time trying to hide your blushing face, knowing that you’re miserably failing.

Rin hums before replying with a smirk. “I definitely wasn’t the one who sugggested for more…”

Your eyes widen before you playfully swat his hands away. He laughs again, the sound foreign to your ears not but unwelcome. You silently hope you’ll be able to hear it a lot more often soon. “Rintarou!”

The two of you are interrupted by the sound of incessant knocking on your bedroom door. It prompts you to look at the clock. “Oh my god, it’s late!”

Rintarou tilts his head to the side. “It’s Saturday though?”

Before you can answer, the sound of your kids’ concerned voices rings through the door. “Mom? Dad? Where are you… We’re scared.”

You hear a muffled groan from your husband as he pulls away from you and you hastily get yourself prepared.

~~~

Suna watches as you cook pancakes for breakfast. He can hear the kids playing in the living room, the sound of the cartoons they had insisted to “watch” playing in the background.

“Is it not tiring?”

You send him a curious glance before returning your attention to the pan. “Cooking?”

“All the house work,” he clarifies as he moves from the kitchen island to join you near the stove. “You never tried to ask if we could hire a new helper when Jiri left.”

He feels you tense a bit once he’s standing close to you. “I like doing all the work.”

“Still, a little help would have been nice, right?”

He’s surprised when you turn to him, an outstretched hand holding a spatula. With a smile, you tell him, “Not from a stranger.

Suna reluctantly takes the tool from you and you laugh a liittle. “You don’t know how to cook?” He feels sheepish as he nods. You purse your lips. “Okay. Maybe you can help with other chores.”

As you try to take the spatula back from him, Suna softly grasps your hand. The action surprises even him.

“What?” He tries to conceal a smirk as he notices the faint blush beginning to color your face.

“I’d like it if we spend a few hours every week where you teach me the ways around the kitchen.”

“I’m not really good at cooking. Why don’t you ask Osamu instead?”

Suna gives you a rather mischievous smile as he maneuvers your hands so that the spatula is placed on the counter. Your fingers are intertwined, his wedding ring digging into yours “I’m not married to Osamu, why would I want to spend time in the kitchen with him?”

~~~

“Grandpa, Grandma, Mommy and Dad almost burned the kitchen!” You watch as Risa. runs towards her grandmother’s open arms while Ryuu runs to his grandfather.

Rintarou’s mother sends you a curious look and before you can respond, he goes to her and kisses her on the cheek. “We just got pre-occupied.”

The statement makes Rintarou’s mother let out an excited squeal as she beams at you. “Are we going to expect some good news soon?”

You instantly blush, realizing what she was implying. “T-That’s not…"

“Honey,” Your father-in-law says as your husband hands him the kids’ bags. “Don’t embarrass them like that.”

The statement reminds you that over the past years, the two of you have somehow managed to convince Suna’s parents that after the forced marriage, you were able to actually work out together as a couple. Though you wonder how stories of Rin’s numerous affairs manage to evade them.

You go and give goodbye hugs to your children. “You two behave, okay?”

Ryuu nods and smiles at you, his smile very similar to his father’s. “Yes, Mommy. Risa is the one who doesn’t behave.”

Your daughter’s protests die down as you plant a kiss on the top of her head. “Shh, Risa. Don’t listen to your brother’s teasing.”

Rintarou laughs a little as he ruffles the kids’ hairs one after the other. “Don’t give your grandma and grandpa headaches, okay?”

“Okay, Dad!"

As soon as Rin’s parents and the kids drive off, you’re left alone with him. “I should probably go do laundry…”

“Do you need help?” He asks as he shuts the front door.

“Not really…”

“But…?"

A small smile finds its way to your lips. “But if you want to help, I’m not gonna stop you.”

~~~

When you let Rintarou help you in doing the laundry, you weren’t expecting that it wouldn’t be the only thing he’d be… doing. You can barely recall the things leading to your current predicament: you seated on top of the washing machine as Rin slowly thrusts into you.

“Shit,” he curses against your ear hotly. “This feels so good.”

Your grip on his bicep tightens at the pleasure coursing through your body. “Rin, I’m almost there.”

At your words, his movements speed up. His heavy pants not helping you hold back your release. You tighten around him and just as you reach your orgasm, Rin thrusts harder. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum.”

Groans and heavy breathing reverberate in the laundry room as you’re both trying to recover from your orgasms.

He’s the one who catches his breath first. “I’m gonna pull out, okay?”

Too exhausted to come up with a reply, you only nod your head. However, the drag of his cock as he pulls out makes you whine in sensitivity and you reach out to his arm to try to slow him down.

“Fuck, sorry.” You close your eyes as you feel your mixed liquids beginning to slip out. Neither of you try to wipe them.

Rin breaks the silence before it can fully take place. “I have a question.”

“Hmm?”

“How come you never got pregnant despite the times I fucked you in the last four years?”

Despite your current position, his question still makes you blush. You only mutter one word. “Contraceptives.”

He’s quiet for a while. “I see.”

~~~

For the rest of the day, Rintarou helped you in doing the house chores. But for every time you finish one task, you somehow find yourself doing some sort of… intimate act with him.

“Listen, I’m happy to hear that you’re both spending more time together,” Sacha says over the phone. “But it’s concerning me that all you do is have sex. Do you two even talk?”

You’re currently propped against your bed while Rin is in the shower. You look at the door to the bathroom before turning back to your phone screen, where Sacha is currently doing her night skincare routine. “We do talk… just about regular stuff.”

Even through Facetime, you can hear the deep sigh from your friend. “That’s not good. At all.”

You know it as well but truth be told, you’re scared to initiate deep or serious talks with your husband, the last time being when you asked him for divorce. “I’m aware but I don’t know how to bring it up. What if he decides to block me out again?”

Sacha gently taps the moisturizing cream on her cheek for better absorption. “Then this resolve of him trying to make your marriage work is a big fucking joke. Make sure to call him out.”

It’s your turn to let out a deep sigh. “Okay. I’ll try to find the perfect time to bring it up.”

In the background, you hear the shower turning off. “I’ll be hanging up now, ‘Cha. Talk to you again soon.”

“Sure, dear. And see you soon?”

“Yeah, see you soon.”

Sacha waves through the screen and makes a kissy face. “Bye! Love you!” You smile at your friend as you faintly hear the sound of the bathroom door opening.

“Love you too, bye!”

As the call ends, you feel Rintarou looking at you. You meet his gaze. “What is it?”

He blinks, as if only now realizing that he was staring. “Nothing,” he replies as he makes his way across the room to retrieve clothes.

Just like the night before, you try your hardest not to watch him, ignoring the way droplets of water slide from the tips of his hair down to his nape.

You try to break the silence that was starting to take over the room. “How was today? Doing chores with me?”

You can tell your question surprises him and you can’t even blame him. In your attempt to make small talk, that was the first thing that popped into your mind.

Suna pulls a gray tank top over his head as he wears sweats. He walks over to you after he drapes his towel against the chair by the vanity. “Fun, I guess.”

He stops at the edge of the bed, still standing, and cocks his head to the side as if daring you to ask him more questions. You decide to take the challenge. “Which parts were fun?”

Rintarou’s answer is immediate. “Spending time with you.”

In response, you can already feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, especially since the next question is already leaving your mouth. “You mean the part where we have sex?”

You half expect him to laugh, his lips curving into his signature smirk. Instead, he looks into your eyes seriously. “No. I meant the part where you were telling me what you usually do and showing me how I can help. I liked watching the way your brows furrow in concentration and the way your lips pout when you’re trying to think of how to explain stuff to me.”

He retains the eye contact as he finishes talking. When you don’t respond, he finally moves again and joins you on the bed. “Y/N.”

Your breath hitches as Suna comes closer. “Y-Yes?”

“We need to talk.”

You nod slowly, still processing what’s currently happening.

Rin shakes his head. “That’s not talking.”

You clear your throat. “Okay.” A long inhale. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Us.” His hand moves to hold yours but at the last second, he pulls back, putting it at his side instead. “I meant it when I told you weeks ago that I want to make our marriage work. But it’s not just about us not fighting anymore and being on good terms. It’s not just about me stopping with my cruel treatment of you from before.

“Do you know what the hardest part was for me for the past years? Fighting my attraction to you. What I’m trying to say is, I actually want a relationship with you, not just have marriage as merely a label.”

You open your mouth to speak but he puts a finger against it. “Let me finish, please?” The pleading look in his eyes, partnered with the gentleness with which he put his finger against your lips, urges you to nod in agreement.

“I know I was a horrible person to you. I took advantage of you when you were drunk because I was young and stupid and rebellious. Actually, I think I’m still stupid because when we were forced to get married, I threw away the chance of making it up to you and still treated you harshly. Instead of apologizing, I resented you because I thought you were taking away from me my freedom.

“And that’s fucked up because I was the one who took everything away from you. So, really. I don’t think I can ever apologize enough for everything I put you through. In fact, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But if you ever decide to forgive me and give me a chance to make it up to you, I would cherish it.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N, and I’m not just pertaining to your physical appearance. You have a beautiful heart and soul, you’re a beautiful person who does not deserve everything that happened to you because of me. I’m sorry, I don’t think I will ever stop apologizing to you. But still, I want to have another real chance with you.

“I’ve been denying my attraction to you for years and I’m now tired of running away. I want to know you more, Y/N. And in return, I want you to know me as well. Will you give us a chance?”

Surely, he must be able to hear the loud thumping of your heart. You’re at a loss of words. This is the most he has ever spoken to you.

Suna looks at you gently. “You don’t have to answer right away.”

You know that, but still, you reach for his hand on the bed. “When I was younger and read stories of people giving second chances, I always got frustrated. Why would they risk getting hurt by the same person again? I told myself I would never make the same decisions as them.”

He adjusts your hands so that he can rub his thumb against your palm. His eyes do the talking for him. “Go on.”

“Yet, look at me. Weeks ago, I agreed to give our marriage a chance. And just now… I want to tell you that I feel the same about wanting to start over again. I want us to get to know each other more.

“I don’t know what’s next to come, if we’ll even have a happy ending. But I want to take the risk with you, Rin.”

Your eyes meet his and the sincerity in them almost makes you tear up. You remain with locked eyes until finally, he says, “I’m glad. Thank you, Y/N.”

What he does next makes your heart pound against your chest. He leans forward, his breath warm against your face as he squeezes your still intertwined hands. You feel your cheeks heat up as his lips touch your forehead.

Rintarou leans back and gives you a soft smile. “Let’s go to sleep?”

Still flustered from his sudden forehead kiss, you can only respond with a nod.

~~~

Suna has always been an early riser. As a student, the habit paid off a lot as it allowed him to have ample time for academics and volleyball. As a young adult, it was useful when it came to escaping from awkward morning-after conversations with his one night stands.

Now, he’s beginning to discover another appreciation for his body clock. Similar to the day before, waking up before you gives him time to observe your features.

You look peaceful when asleep.

Now that the denial of his attraction to you is thrown out the window, it seems to Suna that he can’t get enough of you. Your soft, steady breathing and the serene look on your face tugs at his heart.

The feeling of wanting to protect you from anything that can potentially hurt you almost makes him scoff at himself. After all, he was the one that hurt you in the past few years.

If he wants to protect you from pain, he really should just distance himself from you. But Suna knows that he’s a selfish person. So, he’ll take another route instead: change and improve himself. Be someone who won’t hurt you; someone worthy to stay at your side.

It’s the determination that came to him last night, when he had closed his eyes trying to go to sleep, basking in the warmth of your body beside him.

For all the years of taking you for granted, Suna vowed to himself that from now on, he’s going to cherish every moment he spends with you.

TO BE CONTINUED.

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added or if you changed your user): @warrior-of-justice @alisa--things @wolffmaiden @kurookinnie @simp-nerd-16  @alex-is-100 @k4g3hika @harukaaaaa172993 @themoonreflectsthesun  @lvjycrow @cantbedenied @sweetlikerockcandy @sirimiripetrichor @yamiakari-chi  @noideawhothatis @nervouscoffeetaco @lovemyfamily4ever-blog nervouscoffeetaco  kamukayakmonyet  yuqixidle ieathairs  cantbedenied  gariben  beomeomgyu  esmeisdrunk-blog  123j456l  iluv-ace  semitje @justablogforreblogs @alienvarmint @itohsi @tamimemo @mshope16 @jeonsfizz @syndyj @susuarin @ssc7514 @tkooooop @lialoveskaisersomuch @dilucsleftshoelace @bakingcuriosity

[ellabehavior]

Matilda ~ JJ Maybank ✯

Summary: You’ve grown up not being able to show much affection because of your family, but JJ knows just how to heal your wounds.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mention of abuse, a lil suggestive content

A/N: hope y’all enjoy! request r open!

-

You've always been rather cautious about accepting hugs from people. Even as a young child, you might have hesitantly accepted a hug or just stood there not really knowing what to do. Likewise, expressing your love has always been difficult for you because it’s not something you would do very often inside your house hold.

Your parents never really said the words ‘I love you’. Sure, they’d sometimes give words of affirmation once in every blue moon, or they might hug you on special occasions but you never really got the feeling of true family love.

As a kid you would always watch family movies, or look at your friends parents and wonder ‘why are they so nice?’ or ‘how come they rarely argue?’

That is when you started realizing this behavior is not normal.

But once you and JJ started dating, things started to change; your displays of affection began to get stronger and more obvious.

He showed you how to love.

Your dreams, your kisses, your hearts, and your love for each other were all shared by the two of you.

You and JJ both know every last detail about one another. You were able to wipe away every tear that came from JJ's memories with kisses since you were aware of JJ's father and his early years. This may be why you two matched so well.

However, your family? You preferred not to bring it up. Naturally, your partner was aware of the awful ways in which your parents treated you, but you would never go into detail because doing so would trigger unpleasant memories.

That is until one sleepless night you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Jay” you whispered through your tears trying to wake him up out of his sleep.

“Baby?” He rubbed his eyes and seen the tears pouring down your face “Baby no, come here.” He said with a pout and pulled you in.

“JJ I had a dream about my parents and it brought back everything, and my mom was telling me about how I didn’t deserve you and-”

JJ then placed a soft kiss on your lips to calm you down.

“Calm down baby, i’m right here for you. I’ll be here all night. It was just a dream, i’m forever yours I promise.” He says in a soothing voice while rubbing your back hoping it’ll calm you even a little bit.

Since your mother called you on the phone two days earlier, he was aware that something was wrong. You’ve have been so silent since that phone call, he was skeptical about what was said, but he decided to not push it unless you were ready to tell him.

After a few minutes of crying and back rubs you’ve finally chilled out enough to tell him what was going on.

“When my mother called me two days ago, I thought it would be good and we could just catch up. I thought she'd be happy of me for where I've gone in life, but all she did was yell and tell me how she wishes I were different. I've been having dreams ever since, and I can't handle it any more.” At the end of your sentence, your voice begins to tremble, indicating another sob.

JJ immediately notices this and pulls you in tighter.

“Baby, please don’t ever believe those words. I fell in love with you for who you are, your the most beautiful girl I have ever met. Everything about you is perfect to me, the way you giggle, the way you snore, and even when you upset me I can’t find a single flaw about you.” He says with his hands on both sides of your cheeks.

“I don’t deserve to be loved by someone like you.” you whisper

“Don’t even say that.” JJ says in a serious tone with tears starting to form in his eyes. “I wouldn’t even be able to think without you, much less live without you.”

The look in his eyes was very serious. You were his oxygen, he never wanted to hear something like that from you. Without you, he wouldn't be able to breathe.

JJ finally broke the built up tension and pressed your lips together. Minutes upon minutes of the need to be closer to eachother.

You depended the kiss and pushed JJ back so you were on top of him.

“Jay” you said staring into his eyes while unbuttoning his pants.

He softly pushed you off and buttoned his pants back up. “Not tonight baby, I want to show you my love in a different way.” he breathed out

“Okay.” you said while he laid down and pushed you against him.

That night all you guys did was share little pecks, talk about stupid things, and hold onto eachother tight.

This was it, this is what you’ve been searching for since you were 7. This is what your parents swore would never happen to you, This is true unconditional love.

“I love you J”

“I love you more.”

-

‘I can't be who you

want me to be if who that is isn't who I am.

To love me is to accept me.’

- Baggage Reclaim

[stardewrotsession]

Note: I have a few new drafts in the works right now but it’s taking longer than expected to get them out. So for now, here’s my takes on our favorite bachelors. Some controversial, some not.

Personal Headcanons (and Opinions) I have about the Bachelors

Sam:

- So before I threw him under the “golden retriever” skater boy trope and moved on. Yeah he definitely comes off as it at first, HOWEVER.

- I like to think Sam’s hella observant when he wants to be. Sorta like a “selective observer” if you will.

- I mean, his mom seems to wish to run away from the family at times, and his dad’s off at war. Taking care of Vincent and trying his best to be there when his dad wasn’t makes you pick up a bunch of stuff along the way.

- And I think he’s observant enough to notice that Jodi doesn’t really like where’s she’s at in her life.

- He’s a very caring person, I think to the point where he wouldn’t really mind if he gets hurt from it.

- You have to do something really bad for him to hate you or for him to not care, honestly.

- He loves his family, so he’ll take care of Vincent when his dad’s away, or he’ll begrudgingly get a job because his mom told him to.

- That’s not to say he’s grown though. I full on believe his mom baby’s the hell outta him.

- She seems like a very controlling mom with how she acted after Sam dropped the egg on the floor, but she seems like she needs to done her way. Can you tell I don’t like Jodi very much?

- I think once Sam gets married to you and moves out, he takes on a lot more responsibility and learns how to take care of himself more. While still having that “kid at heart” mindset with his hobbies.

Sebastian:

- So, I’m not gonna lie, I was one of the girlies that dismissed Sebastian as the resident emo boy at first.

- But now, I think he’s, shocker, more complicated than that.

- So I think Demetrius definitely has a whole favoritism complex going on between Maru and Sebastian, which is nothing new.

- I think it leads Demetrius to spit out verbal abuse, and heavy on verbal cause I don’t think Demetrius is the type to physically abuse, to Sebastian whenever he doesn’t like what he’s doing.

- But, I actually think Sebastian and Maru find ways to be friendly or decent with each other, despite everything that’s happened.

- And I really don’t think Robin’s being dismissive about the whole situation either, I really do think she’s trying her best to get the two to ease up with each other.

- I mean, there’s books in her room about stepdads and second families, I think she’s making an attempt.

- But for Sebastian sometimes it isn’t good enough, making him feel like he’s trapped and that he wants to leave this town.

- I think when you marry him, and he ends up staying in Pelican Town, that’s not crushing his dream.

- I truly believe he just wanted to get away from his family, from Demetrius’ constant complaining and comparisons and favoritism.

- But he still has friends here, Sam and Abigail. And you.

- I think now that he’s moved out, he feels more at peace, spending time with someone he loves and still being able to hang out with friends.

Harvey:

- So, we know Harvey’s hobbies, his job as a doctor, and that he comes off as really shy.

- But he actually comes off as really closed off when you first meet him.

- It’s almost as if he’s straight away drawing a boundary saying, “Oh this is the new farmer. Okay, strictly doctor, patient relationship.”

- But as you start hanging out with him more, his facade starts to break a little.

- He opens up more, about experiences, hobbies, his past.

- And personally? I think he has a huge past with mental health issues.

- Like he relates to Shane when he talks about mental health and getting him a therapist. That could be just a doctor thing, but I think Harvey’s had his own struggles. Even if they were different.

- Out of everyone in Pelican Town (other than Shane) I think Harvey definitely has a therapist.

- Although he still mentions having patients’ lives in his hand, I’m sure he was completely broken about it the first time it happened.

- Not to mention that he had to overcome the fact that he wasn’t going to get his dream job.

- He had to settle, and I think talking to a therapist helps tremendously with not only acknowledging that, but full on accepting it, both the good and bad.

- Harvey is a caring guy, and even if he still has extreme fears and insecurities, he’s willing to overcome them if he thinks it’ll make him a better person. If it’ll give him a better life.

- So the fact that he overcomes his fear of heights for you means he cares a lot about you, and his life with you.

Alex:

- So, my opinion of Alex changes as his heart events go on.

- So for zero hearts, I full on believe he’s an ass to girls. Like that cliche popular sporty guy that has a big ego.

- If he doesn’t know you and he sees you doing something weird, I bet you he’ll judge super hard.

- I think he’s the type to talk first, think later.

- And not in a sense like Sam where he just kinda… keeps talking. But he’ll say stupid remarks like “Wanna go to the beach? Do you have a bikini?” Or “Did you get new pants?”

- Why are you looking at the farmer’s pants Alex?

- Anyways towards guys I don’t think he’d be that different, only he’d talk about girls to you.

- I wholeheartedly believe George is kinda homophobic, but Evelyn’s like “Love who you love, you don’t live long enough to not.”

- So Alex at first would have George’s beliefs. Cause the guy kinda raised Alex, he’s the only father figure he really knew and liked.

- But as time goes on Alex would realize “Hey I’m spending a lot more time with the farmer now.”

- Like he looks forward to seeing you everyday.

- And I think you influence him, whether you’re a girl or a guy.

- You open his eyes, making him think along the lines of “Maybe I shouldn’t judge so much. Something just feels right when I’m with them.”

Shane

- So I think we’ve been knowing how shitty he was in the beginning, before having any hearts with him.

- He’s closed off, depressed, doubting his life choices.

- The farmer literally has to push their way into his heart for him to actually notice and be nice to you.

- So I’ll spend more time focusing on after his heart events, since a lot of people are on the same page about his struggles with alcoholism.

- So like a lotta other people, I think Shane has a great friendship arc, but as a marriage candidate all of that development gets kinda nerfed.

- After everything that happens, he becomes VERY dependent on the farmer.

- Probably to the point where it’s unhealthy

- Like if he heard that you’ve passed out in there mines or something he’d start freaking out, not knowing what else to do if you were suddenly gone.

- But, he’s also one of the only bachelors confirmed to be seeing a therapist, so even if the farmer slowly stops talking to him, he will still be in a better spot than he was in his 6 heart event.

- In the end, he’s very thankful for you coming into his life.

- Just, try not to let him depend on you too much, okay?

Elliot

- Same with Alex, my opinion and my headcanons of Elliot change depending on how many hearts I have with him.

- But low key I find him very out there when below 4 hearts.

- He has a different kind of ego than Alex, but it does still come off as “I’m better than you” kind of ego.

- For example, when he says he wishes he could “Throw it all away and become a farmer like you”.

- What’s that supposed to mean Elliot?

- Only I don’t think he realizes it, I think at this time he’s more closed minded and never really thought of people being content and success in different ways.

- He does give Wattpad vibes…

- By the way he treats Gus too in his 2 heart event?? Yeah I’m not sure if that seems to change that much lol.

- However as you get to know him more, he realizes how much time and work you put into your farm, and then, starts thinking about how everyone else lives their life.

- I think even as a writer, the dude doesn’t really understand people think differently until you show him.

- Which is why I think that’s one of the reasons why he’s had writer’s block for a while.

- Yeah give him a pencil and paper and he’ll go at it, he’ll write some beautiful poetry and short stories.

- But throw in a consistent protagonist that isn’t like him, and I think he’d struggle big time before he met you.

- After you two become friends, or even after you start dating, he’ll definitely have a different perspective on his art and on other people.

- It’s like you change his perspective on life. And it may not happen overnight, but I truly believe it does happen, and you make him a better person because of it.

[khaleesiofalicante]

Like a Challenge - An LDV Malec Story

“Tutoring, Mom? Really? The rest of us didn’t get tutoring.”

“It’s different these days, hun. The curriculum is extremely competitive now,” his mother points out, walking past him down the stairs. “It’s as if they want the children to fail in class.”

“So, what if he fails a class or two?” Alec asks without thinking.

Mom stops in her tracks and turns around, incredulous. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“He’s in fourth grade!” Alec throws up his hands. “Nobody cares if he fails at math!”

“I care,” Mom huffs.

“Do you really care if he fails math, or are you just worried about your friends finding out?” Alec cocks his head.

“Do you really not want him to go for tutoring, or are you just complaining because you don’t want to drive him?” Mom counters, raising an eyebrow.

Right. Never argue with a lawyer.

“Mom, come on,” Alec groans, trailing after her. “I have lectures.”

“You don’t have lectures on the weekends,” she points out, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. “And the last time I checked, you don’t have a social life either.”

“That was unnecessary!” Alec scowls, crossing his arms. “I have plans to hang out with Jace on weekends, you know.”

“Great, take Jace with you.”

“Mom!”

“Alec, honestly, I ask you for one thing-”

“Okay, here we go-”

“-And I do so much for this family while managing my full-time job-”

“Jesus, Mom! Fine. I’ll drive him!” Alec relents. 

He knows full well that she only asked him because he was the only one who’d drive through Manhattan traffic on the weekend without complaining (much) about it. 

Izzy just straight-up said, ‘No, thanks.’ Alec wishes he could be that indifferent too.

But maybe it’s not a bad thing. 

His little brother is growing up fast, and Alec worries that Max will pull away any day now. He’ll be a teenager in a couple of years, and Alec will have graduated from Columbia. Max will be too cool to hang out with his boring older brother.

So, yeah. Maybe this is an opportunity to bond. God knows he struggles with it. He’s good with Izzy, and Izzy is good with both of them. But Alec and Max never really clicked for some reason. He usually blames the age gap, as it prevents him from thinking too much about other possible reasons.

“Thank you, darling, drive safe!” Mom blows him a kiss and heads out the door.

Alec heads upstairs to find his brother, only to discover that Max is already downstairs, sitting in the passenger seat, waiting for him.

“Someone’s excited for tutoring,” Alec chuckles as he slides behind the wheel. “Is Mom forcing you too?”

“No, I want to be good at math,” Max hums in response. “Dad says I need it if I want to study programming.”

“Buddy, you’re nine,” Alec shakes his head fondly.

“Maybe I’m a child prodigy,” Max shrugs and leans out of the window. “How long till we get to Brooklyn?”

“Shouldn’t you know that, Child Prodigy?” Alec grins.

Max scowls and looks out the window again, unimpressed. Alec isn’t really sure how to get through to him. Nothing he ever does or says seems to interest Max.

Except for one thing.

“Do you think when you’re president, we can skip the line when we go to Five Guys?” Max asks suddenly.

It’s one of his favorite things to do - asking Alec the most random hypothetical questions about his future as the president of the country.

The rest of the family, and probably the rest of the country, mostly care about how he’s going to change lives. Max just wants to know if they can skip lines and get discounts.

Sometimes Alec wants to become president just to make those dreams come true.

“They’ll probably close it down for us,” Alec replies. “We’ll be the only people there.”

“That sounds sad, Alec,” Max says casually.

“I guess,” Alec murmurs, trying not to let it sting. Kids, man. Oof. “But we’ll have each other, right?”

“I guess,” Max echoes, going back to people-watching through the window.

When they arrive at the address Mom gave him, Alec climbs out of the car and escorts Max to the building. They climb the stairs, Alec holding Max’s hand.

“I’m not a child,” Max mumbles, tugging at the strap of his backpack with his other hand.

“You are literally the legal definition of a child,” Alec laughs. Max rolls his eyes.

Maybe this is why they don’t vibe. Maybe Max doesn’t want to feel like a child, especially with siblings old enough to go to college. But Alec doesn’t know how else to treat him - like a baby, something precious and important. 

“Why are we taking the stairs anyway?” Max complains.

“This is an old building,” Alec explains. “Most on this side of town don’t have elevators.”

“Do you think when you’re president, you can make elevators compulsory for all buildings?” Max asks.

“I don’t see why not,” Alec shrugs. “It would make buildings more accessible for people with wheelchairs.”

“Or you could ask people to build flying wheelchairs,” Max suggests. “That would be accessible and fun.”

“Would you be interested in being one of my advisors?” Alec asks, maybe a little too genuinely.

“We’ll see,” Max hums, as if considering all the offers from all the potential presidents.

Alec can’t help but smile. His brother is too good. 

Which is why he doesn’t need this stupid tutoring. Max is perfect. He is hardworking and probably the smartest of them all. Alec doesn’t want Max to think there’s something lacking in him, even if there is, he doesn’t want Max to feel like it’s something to be fixed.

Sometimes you’re just bad at stuff, and that’s fine.

Max knocks on the door, and Alec quickly crouches down. “Hey, listen. We don’t actually have to do this.”

“Really?” Max looks surprised, as if he didn’t know that was an option. “What about Mom?”

“We could tell her you went to class,” Alec grins. “We could just hang out in the arcade for an hour instead.”

“Really?” Max gasps, eyes wide with excitement.

So, that’s how you become the fun sibling. You lie to your parents and play loose with your morals. 

Got it. Alec can do this all day.

He’s about to throw Max over his shoulder and run down the stairs when the apartment door opens. Alec looks up.

Oh.

“Hello?” The man on the other side smiles warmly. “You must be Max. I’m Magnus.”

“Er, it’s Alec, actually,” Alec straightens up immediately. “Alec Lightwood.”

“I was talking to the child, but it’s nice to meet you, Alec Lightwood,” Magnus says with a small roll of his eyes. His gorgeous eyes. “Max, do you want to come inside?”

“Uh,” Max hesitates and turns to Alec. “We’re actually here to sell Girl Scout cookies. Right, Alec?”

Magnus leans against the doorframe, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Are you a Girl Scout then?”

“Yes?” Max replies, uncertain but determined.

“Not that I am opposed to breaking gender roles, love, but you don’t seem to have any cookies with you,” Magnus points out.

“It’s in the car,” Max informs seriously. “We’ll go get it.”

“Hold on there,” Alec grabs Max by the shirt and pulls him back. He smiles awkwardly at Magnus, who steps aside to let them in. “He’s just joking.”

“Joking?” Magnus raises an eyebrow, settling into a small circular dining table for two. “Trying to be a stand-up comedian, are we?”

“No,” Max scowls, clearly not amused.

“No?” Magnus shakes his head with a smile. Gorgeous. Gorgeous. Gorgeous. “What do you want to do when you grow up then?”

“I’m gonna make video games,” Max declares confidently.

“That sounds fun,” Magnus says, genuinely interested.

“You’re not gonna ask me what I want to do when I grow up?” Alec asks, trying to keep his tone light.

Magnus gives him a look, then sighs dramatically. “What do you want to do when you grow up, Alexander?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I’m gonna be the president,” Alec announces.

“That doesn’t sound fun,” Magnus remarks, turning back to Max.

“Shall we get started? I know a lot of people don’t like math, but I’ll try to make it fun for you, hm?”

“You do this a lot?” Alec asks, settling onto the couch, unable to resist.

Magnus glances at him, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Alexander, you are interrupting my class. But if you must know, yes, tutoring is my side gig.”

“What’s your main gig then?” Alec presses, intrigued.

Magnus tilts his head, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “You know, your mother doesn’t pay me to talk to you.”

“Can I pay you to talk to me?” Alec grins, undeterred.

“I don’t think you can afford it, darling,” Magnus hums, turning his attention back to Max.

Alec doesn’t disturb them afterward. He settles on the couch, fiddling with the book he brought. But he can’t focus. His eyes keep drifting to Magnus, who is quietly tutoring Max, a smile ever-present on his face. Max seems engaged in the lesson, asking questions now and then, laughing at whatever Magnus tells him.

An hour and some intense pining later, Magnus wraps up the lesson and even offers Max a cookie.

“Do I get a cookie?” Alec asks with a grin walking up to the man in the small kitchen. 

“I don’t think you’ve earned it,” Magnus shrugs, putting the box of cookies away carefully. “Is there someone else who can accompany Max next weekend?”

“Do you find me distracting?” Alec cocks his head.

Magnus lets out a dramatic sigh, as if annoyed, but it’s not a no. “Does your brother know?”

“He knows I’m gay,” Alec shrugs.

“Does he know you’re flirting with his teacher?” Magnus corrects.

“Max, do you know that I’m flirting with your teacher?” Alec calls out.

“You keep staring at him a lot,” his brother says with a slight frown. “Is that what flirting means?”

“No,” Magnus says seriously and turns back to Alec. “If you’re coming here again, I’m going to have to ask you to behave.”

“What if I find him a better teacher?” Alec suggests. “Can I come back here and not behave then?”

“You can find him a different teacher, but I doubt you’d find him a better teacher,” Magnus replies haughtily.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Alec notes.

“I quite like Max,” Magnus says to that. “I’d like to keep tutoring him.”

“Yeah?” Alec can’t help but smile at that. “He’s good?”

“He’s curious,” Magnus replies. “I like curious children.”

“And he seems to like you too,” Alec points out. “He’s usually very quiet. He laughs with you. Never laughs at my jokes.”

“Maybe you’re not as funny as you think you are, Alexander,” Magnus suggests.

Alec laughs at that, shaking his head. “I guess it’s just an older brother thing. He doesn’t like anything I do.”

“Appreciation is not the same as affirmation,” Magnus says. “He might not show it, but he seems to believe in you anyway.”

“Is that right?” Alec asks, amused.

“I’ve known him for an hour, and he’s already mentioned four times that when his brother becomes president-”

“It’s just a silly game he likes to play-”

“He says when, not if,” Magnus points out. “He believes in you. Sometimes that’s enough.”

“You got all of that in an hour?” Alec asks incredulously.

“I am very perceptive,” Magnus shrugs.

“Do you want to go out on a date with me?” Alec asks, feeling like enough foreplay has been had. Well, not enough, but maybe they can pick it up later. Hopefully.

Magnus stares at him for a long moment, fiddling with the hem of his blue shirt. “Did you mean what you said before? About the president thing? Is that really your dream?”

“Yes,” Alec nods without hesitation.

“Then it is best that you keep your distance from me,” Magnus points out.

“Why?” Alec asks.

“Because dating someone like me will make things difficult for you,” Magnus replies.

“Magnus, I’m a gay man trying to be the president of this country,” Alec laughs. “It’s already difficult for me.”

“So why on earth would you make things more difficult?” Magnus demands. 

“Because I like a challenge,” Alec shrugs. “And you’re really fucking gorgeous.”

“Huh,” Magnus says in response. “Well, you should’ve probably started with that.”

Alec chuckles. “So?”

“So?” Magnus echoes.

“You gonna give me a cookie or what?” Alec asks.

“Not yet,” Magnus hums. “Perhaps you should give me your number, and I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

Alec does his best not to jump into the air and pump his fists. He nods solemnly instead. “That sounds fair.”

“Alec, let’s go!” Max shouts, picking up his backpack and wiping his hands on his trousers.

“I’ll see you next week, Max,” Magnus tells the boy with a smile. “Remember your homework, hm?”

“Okay,” Max gives a thumbs up.

“I’ll see you next week too?” Alec asks.

“I suppose you will,” Magnus smiles at him. “Have a good day, Alexander.”

“Yeah, it’s not gonna get better than this,” Alec calls over his shoulder as he grabs his brother’s hand and heads down the stairs.

“Alec?” Max says as he climbs into the passenger seat of the car.

“Yeah, buddy?” Alec asks as he gets behind the wheel.

“Are you going to marry Magnus when you become president?” Max asks him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alec scoffs, giving his brother a smile. “I’m gonna marry him way before that.”

[its-time-to-write]

PLEASE i am on my knees for jamie x reader where she’s just crying thinking about all the times he needed someone but no one was there.. and now everything is great, he’s grown and he has so much love and support and he has her but all she can do is sob because when you love someone you wish you were could be there to hold them even if they were 8 and their dad was a dick.. yknow??? AND he’s just holding her face, nodding and reassuring her he’s fine and he has so many people, especially her, and he’s lowkey choked up too

So. This is actually a mix of two writings. The first part is from your request, the second is something I wrote shortly after my very first post. I actually wrote it because I was processing some personal things, so… yeah. Here it is. Just be warned, it talks about abuse and stuff, Jamie’s dad shows up and is his regular, douchey self. If that’s upsetting for anyone, just be aware. If this needs more warnings, let me know.

i don’t know how you keep smiling/i’m just choking almost constantly

“He what?” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “You’re telling me he took you there and made you do that?”

You’re sitting on your couch in your flat, legs across Jamie’s lap. He’d come over out of nowhere an hour earlier, just knocked on your door and said, “Can we talk?”

You let him in because of course you can talk. You make tea, sit down on the couch, and words just come spilling out of Jamie. It is all about his dad. How he drank, yelled, and hit, precisely in that order. Watching his mum throw him out and accept him back in, in what felt like an endless cycle. Hiding how bad it really was for her because his dad was making her laugh and she was smiling and anyway, it’s not like the bruises were anywhere anyone could see.

Jamie tells you how his dad came to his game the night before, went to the locker room, and how Jamie punched him. He says he’s scared of his dad finding him, because his dad always makes good on a threat, and he doesn’t usually have anyone to talk to but he figured you might be a good listener, what with being his girlfriend of five months and all. He says it all while staring at the chipped mug on your coffee table, the one he insisted you can’t throw out because it’s his favorite, and who care’s if it’s a little damaged? It adds character.

But all you can think about is little eight-year-old Jamie, hiding under his bed and pulling out his front tooth because his dad broke it, so he can tell his mom he just lost it like all the other kids.

You think of what you were doing that year. You would have just turned six, chasing your brother with a fairy wand and a nerf gun, ponytail flying.

The mental image of Jamie under his bed, cowering in a corner, learning to cover up welts and to lie to his mum brings a fresh wave of tears. Just the thought of him being alone makes it feel as though your heart is breaking, and you wish you would have known him then. Your parents would have loved him. Wouldn’t have let his father come around and hit him.

He just finished telling you about Amsterdam, and you can physically feel your soul shatter into pieces on his behalf. The fact that he can’t even remember it is what really gets you. 

Jamie, meanwhile has stopped staring at the mug and is now looking at you. “It- it’s alright, love,” he says. “I’m here now, and it’s alright.”

Through blurry eyes, you can see that it is not alright. Jamie’s eyes are watering now too, and he pulls you onto his lap. He wraps his arms around you and you let him bury his head in the crook of your neck.

You sniff and pull yourself together. “No, Jaim, it’s not alright. You can say, ‘I’m alright,’ or ‘I will be alright,’ but what that shithead did to you is not and never will be ok. And I’m glad you’re telling me about it, and I’m only crying because I keep thinking about how you must’ve felt. It’s not because I can’t handle it, because I can. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, and you’re going to be ok.”

Jamie has started shaking in your arms, and you feel a tears start to drop onto your neck.

You run your fingers through his hair and whisper, “You’re ok. I’m here, I’ve got you, and you’re ok. I’m not leaving. You’re ok.”

—

That was the first real time Jamie ever told you about his dad. You’d talk about it periodically, whenever it got really bad, and he also started talking to a therapist. Doctor Sharon, you think her name was? Anyway, he’s getting better in his mind, which is good, because sometimes you don’t know what to do beyond listen. And you do. Soon, Jamie’s stories about his dad begin with, “Dr. Sharon says…” and he’s not as angry anymore. Not as jaded, not as broken. There are still deep cuts, but his spirit is coming back. He’s not broken in such a way that he can’t be put back together, piece by piece.

—

It’s not until you’re out to dinner at your favorite restaurant that something actually happens.

“Jamie,” you say, face serious, empty plates between you.

“Yes, love,” he replies, matching your expression.

“I think that we should get ice cream.”

His face breaks into a smile as he slides his hand off the top of yours to run it through his hair. “Babe. We just ate enough food to put a horse into a coma, and you want ice cream? What about digestion?”

“Jamie. Listen-” you both argue as he pays the bill, takes your hand again, and swings it while you head in the direction of the ice cream shop.

“-And if you think about it, it’s actually a wise food choice,” you continue.

“Babe,” he laughs, “I just think that you might be making up the health benefits of strawberry ice…”

Jamie's counter-argument has trailed off as he stares at something ahead of you, rather someone who is stumbling down the sidewalk in your direction.

You have never seen this man before, but you know exactly who he is.

He's still a good seven feet away when he yells, “Well, well, look who it is. Me son, who can’t even take the time to return his own father’s phone calls! Just joking, just joking, hey? And who’s this fine little lady?” he asks, punctuating his words with a few fake punches in Jamie’s direction as he draws closer.

Jamie is still holding your hand, but has maneuvered himself in between you and his father. He has yet to say anything, so you take your cue from him and keep silent.

James Tartt, Sr. is in front of you now, and it is more obvious now than ever that he is intoxicated. He's swaying a little bit as he stands, and there is the stench of alcohol with each breath he blows. Jamie is holding your hand so tight that it hurts, but you don’t let go. You grip it back.

“Dad,” Jamie says as a way of greeting, face taut.

You're under a streetlight, but not many people are around this time of night.

“Jamie,” his father replies, mocking his serious tone, “is this how I find out you’ve got a girl? Runnin’ into you on the street? Couldn't have sent me a quick message about it, hey? Oh I joke, I joke,” he says. His words are grating, and he keeps punching at Jamie. You do not like it at all. 

“What d’you want, dad?” Jamie asks, gripping your hand harder, if that’s even possible.

His dad wipes his face. “Ey, listen, since you’re ‘ere, what do you say you get me tickets to the Man City game this weekend? Can spend some quality time with this one.” He winks at you in a way you’re sure he thinks is endearing, which is a problem because three things happen in rapid succession: his dad makes a rude comment about quality time, Jamie pushes you behind him saying, “Don’t you ever fucking speak to her,” and James Tartt shouts, “You self-righteous, fuckin’ pussy!” and moves to hit Jamie. 

You’re not sure which one of you he’s talking to, but it doesn’t matter because Jamie’s dad is on the ground and people are starting to stare. You pull Jamie’s still clenched fist down and say, “Babe, let’s get out of here,” while James Tartt is drunkenly trying to stand.

“Babe,” you say a little more forcefully. “let’s go.”

Jamie snaps out of it, lets out a short, “Right, yeah,” and then you’re walking as fast as you can in the opposite direction. 

Not fast enough, apparently, because you still hear his father yell, “That's two you’ve got on me, boy! You better watch your back!”

You have no circulation in your hand and for the first time that night, you feel real fear. Not for yourself, but for Jamie. You may have never met his father, but you’ve heard enough. You know that he always makes good on a threat. 

Jamie looks back twice to make sure you aren’t being followed, and you just walk. You walk a mile past your flat and then circle back. Jamie hasn’t said a single word, just held your hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world. It's not until you’re on your doorstep that you decide to break the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You’re facing each other, you one step above him so you’re almost eye-level.

Jamie shakes his head and looks away. “Not- not tonight. I don’t think I can- I’m not sure-”

“Hey,” You slowly lift your free hand and brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead. Not slowly enough, apparently, because he still flinches almost imperceptibly, “It’s alright, Jaim. We don’t have to talk about it tonight.”

Jamie blows out a sigh, and you slide your hand from his hair to his cheek. He just looks so tired, all the anger and defensiveness gone out of him.

“Your place or mine?” you ask because there’s no way in hell you’re letting him be alone tonight.

Jamie shakes his head slightly. “I can’t. I have training tomorrow.”

“Jamie-”

“No, look, I just need something to be normal. And I don’t want you coming over in case me dad fuckin’ decides to come ‘round. I'll come over tomorrow after practice and we can talk then.”

He says it with such resigned finality that you don’t fight him on it. You whisper a soft “alright,” and then wrap your arms around him as tight as they can go. Jamie hugs you so hard you almost can’t breathe, but you don’t ever want to let him go; you memorize the feel of his arms around you, his head in the crook of your neck, and the erratic beat of his heart.

He lets you go after a long moment, waits to make sure that you get inside safely, and then you watch him begin the two-block trudge to his house.

You stay awake until your phone dings with a made it from Jamie, and then, despite all the thoughts swirling in your head, you fall asleep.

——

You startle awake by someone yelling outside, followed by a loud knocking. You squint at the clock which reads an awful one a.m. for a split second you wonder if it’s Jamie at your door, then you catch a word this person is yelling.

Whore.

You’re wide awake now. You grab your phone to text Jamie as his father continues to pound on your door yelling, You stupid fucking bitch, no one messes with James Tartt, I’ll make you fucking pay for that shit he pulled!

The text goes through and you wait a second before calling 999. They answer your call and promise that someone will be over right away. You know for a fact Jamie is still asleep, but you call him just in case and his sleep-deprived voice answers on the third ring. You can only get out a few words - outside, your dad, police - before he is wide awake and on his way over.

——

It's all kind of a blur, really, and you feel truly horrendous, but all you can think about is Jamie. You’re not really sure how he does it, but he is at your flat right before the police. All your neighbor’s lights are on now, and Jamie is in your doorway holding you tight. 

You think about how awful this must be for him.

It's his dad. It’s like being a kid all over again.

You’re supposed to be the one person who he can feel safe around, but now you’re asking him to step into a volatile situation.

He got woken up in the middle of the night when he needs his sleep, which resulted in him seeing his dad get arrested.

All you can say is, “I'm sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again, as you try not to cry into Jamie’s pajama shirt.

He pulls back a little and wipes a stray tear from your cheek.

“Your place or mine?” he asks, because there’s no way in hell he’s letting you be alone tonight.

You shake your head. “Neither,” you say. “You have training in two hours.”

“Yours,” he says as he gently backs you into the flat and shuts the door. 

“What about Roy?” you ask. Roy gets pissed if Jamie skips training.

Jamie pulls out his phone and narrates as he types: “Granddad. Won't be at training this mornin. If you’re mad about it you can go fuck yourself,” and then presses send.

You have the bizarre urge to laugh. “Jamie, you did not type that.” You try to grab his phone from him but he holds it out of your reach and shuts it off.

“Oi. We’re going to sleep and we ain’t thinkin about anything until 10 tomorrow, yeah?”

“Ok,” you say. 

He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, where you finally fall asleep in a tangle of limbs.

You might not be ok right now, but you will be. You’ll both be alright.

[scoops-aboy86]

Just Keeping Life & Soul Together (Secret Admirer pt 4)

Steddie Week 2024, July 4: Trade / body swap / Wouldn't It Be Good by Nik Kershaw

wc: 1812 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

By the time Steve recovers enough to drive home, it’s time to clock out anyway. Robin hangs back, not taking off on her bike until she sees him get in the car, and he’s had more time to think about it now. 

Robin’s outfit that she’d changed into in the employee bathroom after clocking out is an eclectic mishmash of different colors and patterns; Secret Admirer said they wear mostly dark colors. That’s not the only reason it isn’t her, but Steve can’t quite put a finger on anything else. It’s just… she has a very different vibe. 

He’s exhausted and still not feeling great, so that’s as far as he thinks about it. 

But the next morning he wakes up, still with some of that post-headache grogginess but better, and realizes that if she was telling the truth about someone in the ice cream parlor sending him that cone, Secret Admirer was there. Probably saw how out of it he was and felt bad, but not bad enough to overcome their reservations about revealing themselves. 

God, Steve wishes he could remember who had been in Scoops when his efforts to ‘man up’ and push through the pain had crumbled. He doesn’t, but that’s okay. Robin knows. 

~

Dear Secret Admirer,

Yes keep writing. Please keep writing. My head’s been killing me these past couple days and wanting to write back to you is the only thing that’s kept me going. I’m sorry I got Bilbo’s name wrong. 

So I guess you already knew I had a headache the other day since you sent me that ice cream. That was you, right? Strawberry with rainbow sprinkles? I wish you would’ve stayed. I know you’re shy or scared of me not wanting you once I know who you are, but it really kind of sucked that you didn’t. I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything but I missed you so much even though I don’t know you. But I feel like I do know you, because you keep telling me things about yourself, like bread crumbs in that fairy tale from the book my mom used to read to me when I was a little kid but she stopped a long time ago because my dad didn’t want me to be a sissy momma’s boy. But fuck that, sometimes everyone needs to be read a story so they have something good in their head while they go to sleep, okay? I have nightmares a lot. I can’t tell you about them because I signed an NDA, but they’re horrible. I wake up screaming sometimes, only I can’t when my parents are home because my dad gets pissed and my mom gets disappointed, just like they did about how hurt I got last year. And the year before. It’s all connected and it’s all bullshit and none of it was my fault, I just happened to be there and I got sucked in and I keep getting sucked in and some nights I can’t even sleep anymore. 

You said you smoke, right? Cigarettes and other stuff. Cigarettes don’t help, drinking makes me feel like shit, so maybe I should try the other stuff. Does it help with sleeping? Do you think it would help my headaches or make me not dream so much? I’m so tired and I keep thinking that if I got some the smell would be like you’re there, since you smoke it too. I want to feel like you’re here with me so I’m not alone. Maybe if you were here the nightmares wouldn’t be as bad and I could get some sleep and then the headaches wouldn’t happen as often because you were right, they get worse if I don’t get enough sleep or if I’m stressed out. 

What if you called me sometime? 555-5555. You wouldn’t have to say anything, maybe just play some of the music that you think I’d hate and I can tell you if I do or not? Just let me talk to you? The hard thing about writing is I have to fill a whole page without any way to know what you think about any of it for at least a few days, and I guess a one-sided phone conversation isn’t that different but it would be something, right? I might like your music after all and then we’ll have something in common. Or maybe I can listen and then you can write to me about why you like it and if it’s something I didn’t think of (there are a lot of things I don’t think about on the first try, perspectives and stuff) maybe it’ll grow on me. Sorry if I’m pushing too hard but you said you wanted to give me something with all this and it was just an idea I had. You could give me new things to find out about, like with the Hobbit in his hole eating his hobbit breakfast. (I really liked the part with the glowing sword, that was awesome, I wish my bat would glow when )

Anyway. Robin knows about my headaches now too I guess, which is embarrassing. She was nice about it though and let me hide in the back until I could go home, but she probably still hates me for being King Steve. I’d write about something else but there’s not a lot going on in my life besides you.

— Steve

PS My parents are gone all this week, so if you do call it’s just me here. And you can call whenever, but maybe Friday at 10:30? You don’t have to though. Just keep writing.

~

The next time Steve goes to work, head no longer in danger of splitting open, Robin still calls him a dingus. It doesn’t feel as mean as it used to though. So that’s something. 

It’s easier now to take her jabs in stride. Before he’d just tried to let it roll off him like water off a duck, but he cautiously tries out responding in kind. 

“Your hat’s on backwards,” she calls across the parlor, smirking when it makes him reach up to check. “Made you look!”

Five minutes later, he gets her back with, “Your shoe’s untied.” When she glances down, he grins and adds, “Yeah that’s right, Buckley, two can play at this game.”

“Oh, it is on, Harrington.”

They start racing during the slow times when there are only a couple of people in line at a time, one sticking to scooping and the other ringing up while the former tries to move the second customer along before the latter finishes the first transaction. It’s a much better use of the You Rule / You Suck board, though she does still add tallies for whatever she considers Steve’s failed flirting attempts. (He’s not even trying anymore, not with Secret Admirer always on his mind these days.) Makes the ache of pining a little easier to bear; makes the day almost fun. 

“Hey, so,” Steve ventures while they’re cleaning up after close. “I have a question.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin tense up. “What?”

He feels wrong-footed already, if just that was enough to put her on edge, but he can’t stop now that he’s pulled the trigger. “Who, uh. Who sent me the ice cream the other day?”

She blinks, and once she’s processed the question the stiffness in her posture goes away as quickly as it had come. “Oooh. You think someone’s sweet on you, is that it? Admit it.”

“No,” Steve sputters back. Even he had to admit, though, that the way his face heats up immediately really undercuts the claim. 

“Tell you what.” She crosses her arms and leans back against the counter, eyeing him smugly. “I’ll trade you for it.”

“You’ll.” Now it’s his turn to blink. “Trade me?”

“Yeah. I have information that’s valuable to you, apparently, so you give me something that’s valuable to me in exchange.”

Steve scratches the back of his neck, trying to think. “I could… give you dating advice?”

Robin snorts. “Absolutely not.”

Flustered, he throws up his hands. “Well what do you want, then?”

She’s full on grinning at him now, and while it’s not necessarily malicious (which he appreciates) it’s still at his expense (which he does not). “Uh-uh, you’ve got to put your thinking cap on and come up with something on your own, Mr. Hair. It’s more genuine that way.”

“What? Nooo,” Steve groans, but he supposes he’s grateful that she didn’t whip out the ol’ it builds character that his dad threw at him when ordering him to get a menial summer job. “And I don’t have a thinking cap.”

That makes her actually laugh. “Well duh, who’s dorky enough to own an actual thinking cap?”

Dustin does, Steve thinks fondly. The little squirt is only off at camp for another week, and he really has missed the little shithead. It’ll be nice to get along with his coworker and have a friend around… as pathetic as that does make him feel. 

But whatever, first he has to figure out what Robin might want in exchange for what could very likely turn out to be his Secret Admirer’s identity.

~

Every time Eddie has seen Steve since that Tuesday at Scoops, he’s with his coworker Robin. Apparently he’s started giving her rides so she doesn’t have to bike everywhere all the time. They talk animatedly, like little kids racing from thought to thought as they gleefully mock and annoy each other. 

And it’s probably his fault somehow. Maybe knowing that Steve was actually suffering instead of suffering his own consequences had softened her up, allowed her to pause and notice the soft and genuine person underneath what remained of the King Steve veneer. Maybe it’s impossible not to fall in love with Steve Harrington. 

Whatever it was, the results make Eddie yearn to swap lives with some girl he doesn’t even know. Someone who gets to touch Steve on the arm without reproach—even if it’s more of a punch than a touch, jeez. The only relief he gets from the green monster of jealousy twisting around his heart is Steve’s letter asking him to call, so even if Robin is interested now then it seems she’s out of luck. 

Call. And not even talk, but just listen to Steve’s voice and maybe play selections from a few of his favorite albums, then spend his next letter talking about why they’re his favorites. This perfect man has managed to pluck three of his favorite things to do out of thin air and present the offer as a favor to Steve rather than, uh, only the closest Eddie has ever been to going on an actual date in his entire life. 

… If only he felt in any way prepared.

Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls

@matchingbatbites @ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor

@whalesharksart @thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme

@dauntlessdiva @nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever

[estrellami-1]

Keep You Company

So this happened because 1) I was babysitting and the little girl wouldn’t sleep until I laid in bed with her and my heart has NEVER been more full and 2) my dad’s an audio engineer with a home studio and my mom will just???? Sit in there with him????? He’s got a couch for when clients come over but 90% of the time if I can’t find either of my parents they’re both in there. I love my mom but I swear she’s tone deaf. Not to mention if any of you have heard someone else work on pitch correction you KNOW how annoying it can get after roughly .3 seconds. But she sits in there completely content because they just???? Want to be near each other????? After close to 30 years of marriage????? Where can I find someone who loves me the way my parents love each other. And the way Steve and Eddie love each other. Please.

Also side note if any of yall read Little Love I’m tempted to make this a future excerpt 👀 different name bc who knows if anything’s gonna come of this. and Joanie’s name comes from Joan Jett anyone who got that gets a gold star ⭐️ also Joanie is either 4 or 6. Idk which. But she’s one of those ages. Which if you know anything about kids you know there’s somehow no difference and yet every difference in the world between those two ages.

“Night, Daddy,” Joanie says, moving into Eddie’s studio to drop a kiss onto his cheek. “Love you.”

Eddie startles away from the computer screen, blinking as he realizes just how late it already is. The clock on his desk blinks 9:08 in red, incriminating flashes.

He smiles at his daughter and throws his arms around her as he stands, hugging her to himself and whirling them around the space, careful around the low coffee table. “Goodnight, my little rockstar!” He crows, peppering kisses to her cheeks and forehead, feeling laughter bubble up inside him in response to Joanie’s giggles.

“Daddy!” She shrieks, but doesn’t try to pull away. He laughs and finally puts her down, pressing one last kiss to the crown of her head as he kneels in front of her.

“Night, Joanie-bug,” he murmurs. “Sorry I’ve been stuck in here all day. I wish I could just play with you all day instead.”

He boops her nose and she giggles. “What are you doing?”

Eddie hums and picks her up, moving closer to the computer to save his project. “Well, y’know how Daddy’s in a band?”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Well sometimes, Uncle Gareth gets a note wrong.”

Joanie giggles. “Only Uncle Gareth?”

“Only Uncle Gareth,” Eddie agrees in a super-serious way that they both know he doesn’t mean.

“And sometimes Daddy forgets how not to be a perfectionist,” Steve adds from the doorway with a smile.

“Also very true,” Eddie nods, putting his computer to sleep. “But I did a lot of work today, so hopefully I should be done soon. How about for now, I do bedtime clean-up routine, and Papa can read you your book?”

“M’kay,” Joanie says happily, because she’s a heathen and prefers Steve’s storytelling skills over Eddie’s. Eddie wants to bite her cheeks, she’s so cute, so he does, takes a big chomp and makes a dinosaur noise that has Joanie shrieking and laughing.

“Okay, munchkin,” he says, swinging her around onto his back and trotting through the house, purposely jostling her. “Beddy-bye time, which means it’s time for teeth brushing!”

“Can you sing the song?”

Eddie fights back a groan. Somehow, he’d forgotten this was coming. “Sure thing, Joanie. Let’s get some toothpaste on that brush, alright?”

They do, and Joanie looks at him expectantly. “Sing it, Daddy! Sing it!”

“Brush your teeth, up and down. Brush your teeth, ‘round and ‘round. Brush your teeth from left to right, brush your teeth in the morning and night.”

He goes through the entire song, helpless to the smile that grows as Joanie bops happily along to his singing. “Okay, baby bug,” he says finally, standing behind her with a brush. “How d’you want your hair tonight?”

Regardless of the rat’s nest it will be in the morning, Joanie refuses to sleep if her hair is at all in her face. Steve and Eddie started with simple braids until she discovered the magic of YouTube tutorials, which makes the bedtime routine both longer and less mundane.

“Two Elsa braids,” she says, resolutely not learning the proper name and instead using the one Eddie had jokingly said once.

“Two Elsa braids, coming up,” he says, because it’s cute and he’s not going to dissuade her.

“Can we do beads?”

“Beads are a daytime hairstyle, ‘member, munchkin?”

Joanie pouts at him in the mirror. “But they’re pretty!”

“They are pretty, but they won’t stay while you sleep. They’ll fall out, and then you’ll wake up in the middle of the night ‘cause you’re laying on beads, and you’ll wake us up, and then we’ll all be cranky.” Not that that exact thing had happened.

She narrows her eyes at him, trying to find a way around it, then finally huffs and agrees. “Okay.”

“You’ll look pretty even without the beads,” Eddie promises her. “And Elsa doesn’t have beads, remember?”

“Yeah, but Daddy, Elsa’s got magic powers!”

“That she does.”

Joanie pretends to shoot Eddie with her Elsa powers, and Eddie freezes in the middle of the first braid. “I can’t move,” he says, not moving his lips. “You froze me!”

Joanie giggles. “Unfreeze, Daddy!”

He dramatically relaxes and sighs. “Oh, good! Thank you!”

He finishes doing her hair and chases her into her room, where she picks out her pajamas: a pink shirt with ballet-dancing kittens, and a neon-green pair of leggings. “Bold choice,” Eddie comments. “You wanna do it yourself? Or do you want me to help you?”

“I wanna do it,” Joanie says, just like Eddie knew she would.

A few minutes later, she huffs, frustrated. “Daddy, help,” she asks, just like Eddie knew she would.

He helps rescue her from her shirt that had somehow become sentient long enough to wrap around her head, then gets her pants on and tucks her into bed before pressing a long, loud kiss to her forehead. “Nighty-night, Joanie-bug,” he murmurs. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Joanie giggles. “Only Joanie-bugs allowed in my bed!” She declares, and Eddie chuckles. “That’s right.”

He moves toward the door where Steve’s waiting to press a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “Sorry I was so busy.”

“You were working,” Steve murmurs. “It’s fine. I’ll come join you when I’m done, m’kay?”

“I’m gonna be in the studio for at least another hour tonight, babe,” Eddie says apologetically.

“Then I guess I’ll come keep you company.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before shoving him out the door. “Go work, I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Sir yes sir,” Eddie salutes, marching back to his studio.

The next time he surfaces, it’s to a tugging at his sleeve. He blinks, glances at the clock—10:37—and turns, ready to apologize to Steve, only to see Joanie.

A quick look reveals no Steve anywhere in the studio, so Eddie thinks he’s probably in bed. “Hey, munchkin,” he murmurs, picking her up and setting her in his lap. “We put you to bed an hour ago, what’s going on? Bad dream?”

Joanie shakes her head before resting it on Eddie’s shoulder. “Papa’s snoring.”

Eddie blinks. Steve does snore, but not loud enough she should be able to hear it from her room. “Oh,” he says quietly. “Did he fall asleep before finishing the story?”

Joanie nods against his shoulder, and he sighs as he cuddles her closer, once again saving his project before completely shutting the computer down for the night. “M’kay, Joanie-bug, let’s go get Papa into his own bed.”

“Daddy?” She asks on the way to her room.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Why’s Papa so tired?”

Eddie sighs. “He’s a teacher, sweet pea. He does a lot all day. And he loves his job, but it is very tiring. Then he comes home and cooks, ‘cause he’s better at it than I am. And there’s a lot of stuff that needs to be done around the house.”

Joanie’s quiet for a second. “And me?” She finally asks.

Eddie’s heart stutters painfully. “No, baby,” he murmurs. “Your Papa and I love you, so much, okay?”

“Okay,” Joanie agrees, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you too, Daddy.” After a few seconds of thought, she says, “Are there cooking videos on YouTube? Like for hair?”

Eddie blinks. “To learn how to do it? Yeah, I think so.”

Joanie nods. “You should watch those. And cook for Papa.”

Eddie chuckles. “Maybe I will,” he agrees, stopping short in the doorway to smile at the sight in front of him.

The bedside lamp is on and Steve, glasses askew, is halfway on the bed, on top of the covers. The book is open in his lap, hands still holding on to the sides. He is, as Joanie had said, snoring.

Eddie kisses Joanie’s forehead and puts her into bed beside Steve before taking the book from Steve’s lax hands, shutting it and putting it on her bedside table before kissing Steve’s forehead. “Stevie, baby,” he murmurs. “Wake up.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunch and his eyes flutter beneath his closed lids before he takes an extra-deep breath and his eyes open. “Eds?” He murmurs. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve gotta get up,” Eddie murmurs. “This isn’t your bed.”

He watches as Steve processes his words then looks around. He sees the confusion morph into understanding when he sees Joan. “Oh,” Steve murmurs. “Sorry, Joanie.”

“‘S okay, Papa,” Joanie answers. “You should go to bed.”

Steve chuckles tiredly and kisses her forehead. “I am, right now,” he promises. “Night, Joanie.”

“Night, Papa. Night, Daddy!”

“Night, Joanie-bug,” Eddie answers, wrapping his arm around Steve’s waist, half as a hug and half to help his husband stay steady.

“Sorry, Eds,” Steve murmurs. “Meant to join you.”

“It’s alright,” Eddie promises. “How about tomorrow I take Joanie out early for breakfast and let you sleep in?”

Steve frowns. “But you have work.”

“I’ve done the majority of it already,” Eddie answers. “You could take her out tomorrow afternoon if you want. Or just have a movie marathon here. I’ll finish up what I have to do. Tomorrow’s Saturday, right? So I’ll finish tomorrow, then Sunday I can make waffles for all of us. How’s that sound?”

Steve hums. “Good, ‘sides the you cooking part of it.”

“Oh, you little shit,” Eddie says delightedly, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Just you wait, you’ll understand the power of YouTube tutorials.”

Steve chuckles, quiet, tired, but no less full of love. “I can’t wait.”

Permanent Taglist (which I’ve been COMPLETELY terrible at I’m so sorry I promise I’ll try to do better): @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

[diazsdimples]

Wasn’t sure how mean I was gonna be today but I can’t resist Alfie do lots of Alfie sentences please and thank you 😘💜

👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼 👨‍🍼

And one more for luck:

👨‍🍼

Here’s the old Alfie art for motivation 💜

39 Alfie sentences!!! Your wish is, as always, my command. And I LOVE the Alfie art, thank you so much 🥺 you get two bonus sentences for that 😊

“Anyways!” he interjects before either of them can come up with another reason to roast him. “Tommy and I actually had reason behind coming and finding you.” “Ah, are you looking for sage advice from your elder? What can I help you two with?” Bobby sets down the tea towel he’d been holding and places both hands on the counter, an expectant but friendly look on his face. “Well actually, we more wanted to ask something of you,” Tommy explains. “Or, Evan did.” Bobby’s gaze settles on Buck, and he swallows thickly. It really shouldn’t be this nerve-wracking to ask this of Bobby, considering everything they’ve been though together, but in all of these years, neither of them have ever put words to this dynamic between. Everyone else in the station has been happy to – muttering “father and son” at least once a week – but it’s not something either Buck or Bobby have openly acknowledged. Until now, at least. “Tommy and I, uh, we realised the other day that Alfie doesn’t really have any grandparents near him. I’m not really in contact with Mom and Dad these days, and Tommy obviously hasn’t spoken to his parents in years.” Buck watches as Bobby’s expression changes, initially his brows furrowed inquisitively before smoothing out as a look of understanding passes over him. Like he knows where this is going. Buck takes a step back, searching for Tommy’s hand. As their fingers lace together, he feels his anxiety seep from him, strength taken from his husband’s presence. “S-so we were – we were hoping that maybe – if it’s okay with you guys of course – th-that you and Athena could be like his grandparents? If you’d be comfortable with that?” The words are barely out of Buck’s mouth before Bobby’s arms are around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He can feel Bobby’s fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as he clutches Buck to him, as though he’s afraid he’ll disappear. He’s released almost as quickly, but Bobby keeps a hand on his shoulder. There are tears in his eyes, mirroring the ones threatening to spill in Buck’s own, and Bobby reaches up to wipe them away before speaking. “I would be honoured to. Honestly, you two have no idea how much that means to me, and how much I’m sure it’ll mean to Athena. We both love that little boy so much, and you two as well. It means the world that you asked.” “Well we figured, what with all the jokes about you being like Evan’s father, that we’d make you officially Alfie’s grandpa. Seems like the least we could do to repay everything you’ve done for us,” Tommy says, his hand settling on the small of Buck’s back. Bobby laughs wetly, taking another swipe at his eyes. “Yeah well, someone had to parent that kid. You should have seen him back then, Tommy.” “Oh, I’ve heard the stories.” Tommy smirks and he presses a cheeky kiss to Buck’s temple. Buck curls into Tommy, resting his head against Tommy’s shoulder. He feels light and floaty, the relief that had surged through him after Bobby’s response akin to helium. He’s about to open his mouth to thank Bobby when Jee comes barrelling into the kitchen, all limbs and pre-schooler excitement. “UNCLE BUCK!” she yells, launching herself at him, and he catches her around the middle, hoisting her up into his arms. “Daddy says to tell you guys to get your lazy asses into the lounge so we can open presents!” “That is not what I said!” Chimney yells from the lounge, and Jee covers her mouth with her hand, letting out a little giggle. “Yes it is,” she whispers conspiratorially in Buck’s ear. “But he told me to say it nicer.”

obligatory @hippolotamus tag

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