#oh and socks!! socks!! what if i could socks!!

[irisintheafterglow]

bsf!shoto doesn't understand when being punctual went out of style.

when you swing open your front door the instant he was about to knock, you startle backward like you'd seen a ghost.

"oh, wow." your eyes are wide open and your mouth gapes before snapping shut. "you're, uh, here very early," you manage to say, turning back inside and kicking the door the rest of the way open with your foot. he follows behind you as you hurry back to your bathroom, your makeup halfway done and seven possible outfits laid on your bed. he follows you through the hallway, stopping only a moment to glance at a baby photo of you on the wall. he'd seen the photos hundreds of times, but he found it amusing that you made the same face of surprise when you were little.

"i am ten minutes before our agreed upon meeting time, is that distressing?"

"not distressing, just surprising. in my experience," you continue while patting glitter on the inside corner of your eyelid, "guys don't usually show up on time for dates."

"well, it's a good thing i'm not other guys, then," he smirks and you roll your eyes with a poorly hidden grin. "i also didn't need to waste time picking you flowers--"

"since most of the stuff makes me sneeze anyway," you finish for him, your cheeks warm under the dusting of powder blush. you had known shoto for nearly three quarters of your life, yet it still caught you off guard every time he said something that told you he'd been paying attention to you. "very thoughtful of you." your eyes meet his in the mirror, flicking to his broad shoulder leaning against the doorframe. "staring is rude."

"then you're a hypocrite," he immediately counters with no change in tone, the only indication of his smugness the slightest narrowing of his eyes. his expression turns thoughtful, fond almost. he smiles softly and the endearment makes your cheeks warm even more. "i like that color. the one on your eyes."

"mmm, i know it's your favorite," you reply coyly. shoto's eyes drag from your face down the rest of your body, something different flickering across his face. "something wrong?"

"no, you just...you look beautiful," he manages to say.

"i'm wearing pajamas and all might socks that have at least three holes. in each sock," you chuckle, turning to him over your shoulder. "i certainly don't feel beautiful."

"i can fix that."

"what?"

"what?" he blinks at you, dumbfounded, and you giggle at his slip-up. "who said that?"

"you're funny, sho." you try to ignore the way his eyes follow every movement of your hands as they swipe color over your lips and make last adjustments to your lashes. when you're done, he steps out of your way so you can take your numerous outfit choices to the bathroom, settling down next to your bed to help you decide like he'd done before. "this is a little different, you know," you say through the crack in bathroom door as you tug on your first arrangement. "before, you were helping me decide what to wear for school award ceremonies and stuff like that."

"i could still do that, if you want," he replies with complete sincerity. "i do still want to do that."

"it's a little weird to be dating your best friend, since i feel like you already know all the things that would make me a terrible person to date," you continue and he falls silent on the other side of the door, prompting you to peek out of the bathroom. "sho? is everything okay?"

"yes, everything is fine." there's the slightest dip in his perfect eyebrows that tell you otherwise.

"the 'no lying' rule carries over from friendship to dating, you know," you remind him casually and step out completely, turning in a circle for the full effect. "what do you think?"

"i think that's a bit...warm," he states bluntly. you blink at him and half expect him to laugh, but he doesn't. he's dead serious about you being too warm.

"i am a little warm, yes," you admit in your thick sweater and fleece stockings. "but, i'd also like to dress warmer than i need to because it's so much easier to cool off than it is to warm up."

"i can do both of those things for you," shoto declares. "why wouldn't i do both of those things for you?"

"i don't want you to hassle and need to use your quirk on date night." your voice trails off but he's having none of it.

"is this what you mean by 'things that make you a terrible person to date?' planning ahead so you're not a burden?" you shift your weight uncomfortably under his gaze and can't muster any other answer but shrugging.

"i just...i don't want you to need to change to accommodate me, now that we're together," you explain quietly. he stands and takes your hands in his, lacing your fingers together without a second thought. "if it's easier for me to be uncomfortable and you to be comfortable--"

"why is both of us being comfortable not a possibility?" he asks, tilting his head forward slightly. "why can you prioritize me but i cannot prioritize you?" you have no further argument but his point is hammered home. "do you love me as you wish to?"

"wholeheartedly."

"then let me love you as i wish to. wholeheartedly."

[orangeblossomsintheair]

oh could you write something cute about the reader and Lando please, maybe something funny where the reader says "oh yeah I'll do this but for that you'll buy me a Porsche" and Lando actually buys her a car 💜

BRAND AMBASSADOR | LN4

wc : 3k

an : slowly working through my requests yippie! im not too sure about this but i hope its alr :'>

It was meant to be a joke. Really.

But Lando didn’t know how to take a joke.

For weeks, he’d been pestering you to do a photoshoot with him for Quadrant.

“Brand image, baby!” he insisted, arms flailing as if that explained everything. “Power couple vibes! You and me, absolutely dominating the internet. Imagine the engagement!”

“My manager would actually drop dead if I did a hoodie campaign.”

“Oh come on, baby, just one photoshoot,” he pleaded, leaning so far over the kitchen island that he looked like he might slide right off. “Just a few pics in Quadrant stuff! Hoodie, joggers, maybe the bucket hat if you're feeling spicy-"

You didn’t even look up from your phone. “Lando. I’m booked for the next eight months. Vogue is flying me to Paris next week, and Dior wants me in Milan by the weekend. I don’t have time to play influencer in your gamer merch.”

“It's not gamer merch!” Lando gasped, clutching his chest like you’d stabbed him. “It’s- it's… lifestyle! Culture! Gaming and racing fusion!”

“That’s cute,” you said flatly, scrolling.

Lando narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t even look at the new designs I sent you.”

“Because it’s just another hoodie, baby.”

He gasped again, louder this time. “Just another hoodie?”

“Oh, I’m sorry- hoodie, but make it Formula 1.”

“Wow.” He pointed at you. “I cannot believe this slander. From my own girlfriend.”

“Your supermodel girlfriend,” you corrected without missing a beat.

“And yet, I’m still here, humbly begging for crumbs of attention.”

You didn’t even blink.

And that’s when you heard it. The soft shuffle of socks against hardwood floors.

You looked up just in time to see Lando drop dramatically to his knees in front of you, arms sprawled over your thighs like some lovesick Victorian maiden.

His chin rested on your knee, staring up at you with those big, stupidly pretty eyes.

“Please.” His voice dropped to a pitiful whisper, like he was auditioning for a charity ad. “Do a Quadrant shoot with me.”

“Oh my God, Lando- get off the floor!”

“No. I live here now.” He clung tighter. “Photoshoot. Please, baby. You could be the face of the brand! Imagine it: you in my merch, absolutely carrying. We could finally replace Max’s ugly mug on the website-”

“Lando!” You laughed, swatting at him.

“It’s true! The customers deserve better!”

“You own the brand. You’re supposed to be the face.”

"But you’d look so good in my hoodies," he said, practically drooling at the thought. "God, you in joggers? Maybe one of those cropped sweaters? The internet would lose its mind.”

You stared at him. Long. Hard.

“…Fine.”

His eyes lit up, stars in aquamarine. “Wait, really?”

“But it’s gonna cost you.”

Lando blinked. Sat up straighter. “How much?”

You smirked, dragging your perfectly manicured nails through his curls, watching him melt like butter.

“A car.”

His entire posture changed. He sat up straighter, interest piqued. Now you were speaking his language. “Which one?”

You almost choked. “Excuse me?”

Lando leaned in, eyes sharp now. “Which. One.”

Oh, he was serious.

You blinked, regrouped, and leaned back like you were simply ordering off a menu.

“LaFerrari.”

Silence.

“The red one. Wine red. Matches my nails.” You admired the burgundy polish glinting under the light. “I’d look good in it.”

Lando didn’t even blink.

“Deal.”

Your head snapped toward him. “What?”

“Done.” He stood up, dusting off his sweatpants like you hadn’t just asked for a multi-million-dollar hypercar. “I’ll have the keys for you next week. Photoshoot’s on Friday.”

“Lando, that’s a LaFerrari-”

“And?”

“It’s like… a $3 million car!”

He tilted his head. “Do you want it in the garage or delivered to your place?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

“…You’re insane.”

Lando leaned down, smirking, and kissed your forehead. “And now you’re stuck with me.”

“…I want full creative control over the shoot.”

“Baby, you can set the studio on fire if it makes you happy.”

“And you’re paying for my glam team.”

“Obviously.”

You stared at him, still trying to process how you had accidentally hustled a hypercar off your billionaire boyfriend in under five minutes.

“And I want full rights to veto any photo where I look bad.”

“Oh, baby, you never look bad.”

You squinted. “If I show up and it’s just me in some hoodie in front of a brick wall-”

Lando’s hands cupped your cheeks, deadly serious. “You will be in a hoodie… in front of a gaming PC.”

You slapped his hands away.

—

You were never supposed to take it this far.

The photoshoot was meant to be a joke.

A little bargaining chip to shut Lando up for five minutes. You didn’t think he’d actually pull it off.

Yet here you were.

In a studio. In a Quadrant hoodie. In sweatpants.

And to make it worse, Lando was treating this like he was shooting for Vogue.

“Okay, okay- pause! Can we fix the lighting on her left side? I need more contrast, more mood. She’s selling the hoodie but not the vibe.”

You slowly turned to glare at him. “Lando. I am wearing a hoodie. There is no ‘vibe.’”

“There’s always a vibe!” Lando spun around to the photographer. “Tell her there’s a vibe.”

The photographer, who was clearly riding the paycheck wave, gave you an awkward smile and a less than enthusiastic thumbs up. “Yeah. Big vibe.”

You groaned and adjusted the hoodie, tugging the hood up over your head. “Lando, I walked for Dior last month. Dior. And now I’m here, dressed like a Twitch streamer in front of a gaming PC.”

Lando gasped. “First of all, streamers WISH they looked this good. Second of all, don’t disrespect the setup. That’s a triple-monitor, RGB-lit, water-cooled rig worth more than my life.”

“Yeah, well, it better be. Because I’m dying inside.”

“Okay, can we get a shot of her sitting on the desk? Like, casual, but make it fashion. Maybe holding a controller? No- headset! Baby, put on the headset.”

You stared at him. “You want me to wear a gaming headset in a fashion shoot?”

“Yes. Gamer girlfriend aesthetic. Internet eats that up.”

“I haven’t touched a console since the Wii came out.”

“And that’s the fantasy!”

—

Lando couldn’t stop staring.

The moment you put on the damn headset, he knew he was in trouble.

He’d been so smug, so proud of himself for getting you to agree to this ridiculous photoshoot.

But now? Now he was fighting for his life.

Because there you were, sitting on the desk in a Quadrant hoodie, wearing his brand, looking so effortlessly good that it was like the universe was punishing him for ever thinking this was a good idea.

It wasn’t just the way the hoodie hung on you, oversized and perfect, or the way you pushed the headset into place like you were made to wear it.

It was the thought behind it.

You were wearing his stuff.

And that did things to him.

Very Dangerous things.

Lando dragged a hand over his face, trying to snap himself out of it, but it was no use.

His gaze betrayed him, sliding back to you as you leaned back on the desk, legs crossed, your smirk telling him you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

“Lando,” you said, your voice teasing and smooth, “you okay over there, baby?”

He tried to play it cool. “Yeah. All good.” His voice cracked halfway through, and he coughed to cover it up.

But he wasn’t fine.

Not even close.

His hands were clammy, his heart was pounding, and he was hyperaware of the fact that he was growing harder by the second.

Oh, this was bad.

You shifted on the desk, leaning forward slightly, the motion drawing his eyes to your legs before snapping them back to your face.

That cocky little smirk was still there, your stupidly pretty eyes glinting with amusement.

You were enjoying this. Brat.

“You sure?” you pressed, tilting your head.

His voice was higher this time, strained and barely holding it together. “Yep. Fine. Totally fine.”

You didn’t buy it for a second. “Lando…”

“That’s it,” Lando muttered, voice tight, cracking slightly with frustration. “Break! We’re taking a break.”

His words were sharp, a contrast to the usual smooth confidence he exuded.

Without waiting for any response, he grabbed your wrist, dragging you away from the set with a sense of urgency that didn’t match the cool composure he usually carried.

“Lando, what the-”

“Not now,” he interrupted, low and tense, as he pulled you into a nearby storage room.

The door clicked shut with an almost deliberate force, the sound of the lock turning echoing in the small space.

You barely had time to gather your thoughts before he was in your space, his breath coming fast, his chest rising and falling against yours.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” His voice was low, strained, his hands finding your waist, gripping tight, enough to bruise.

A slow smile spread across your lips. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.”

Lando’s forehead pressed against yours, eyes squeezed shut for a moment as if trying to center himself.

His breath fanned across your lips, shaky and uneven, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his chest seemed to rise and fall faster with every breath.

“You’re a brat,” he muttered under his breath, voice raw, yet edged with something almost desperate.

“You’re the one who wanted me in your merch,” you teased, your fingers curling into his hair as you leaned into him, feeling the heat of his body.

“Yeah, well…” His hands slid lower, pulling you closer, his fingertips burning against your skin. “Now I’ve got more than I bargained for.”

The words barely left his lips before his mouth found yours.

The kiss was messy, urgent, his lips urgent against yours, like he couldn’t get enough.

You didn’t need to think. Your body responded immediately, hands moving to pull him closer, the heat building.

The press of his body against yours was relentless, hard and desperate, as he deepened the kiss.

His hand slid down your thigh, pulling it up to hook around his waist, while the other traced a slow, deliberate path along your jaw.

His breath fanned across your skin, shallow and uneven, each exhale carrying a heat that set your nerves ablaze.

“You don’t fight fair,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, edged with a hunger that made your stomach flip. His mouth moved to your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as his teeth grazed your throat.

Your lips curled into a smirk, your nails raking across his back just enough to make him shudder. The sound of his sharp inhale sent a rush of power through you.

“Neither do you,” you whispered, leaning closer, your breath mingling with his as your fingers found the hem of his hoodie, tugging it higher, your touch skimming over his skin.

“God, you…” His voice broke, his words catching in his throat as he crashed his mouth back to yours.

The kiss was harder this time, almost frantic, as though he couldn’t get enough of you.

His hands moved with purpose now.

Demanding, claiming, leaving no part of you untouched.

Your nails scraped against his back again, dragging another groan from deep in his chest, a sound so raw and desperate it made your knees weak.

His hips rocked against you, slow and deliberate, each movement sending shockwaves through your body.

“Careful, Norris,” you teased, your voice breathless but still carrying a hint of mischief as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze.

His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. A quiet intensity that you'd seen more than once.

“You’re starting to look a little… well, territorial.”

For a moment, he froze. His chest heaved with every ragged breath as if he was trying to regain control.

Then his lips twitched into a sly, almost dangerous smile, one that sent a thrill through you.

“Maybe I am,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, each word carrying weight. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you even closer, making any distance between you disappear.

The words sent a shiver through your spine. But it wasn’t fear. It was something else, something exciting, something that only made you want more.

His lips found your neck again, pressing soft, burning kisses against your skin.

His teeth grazed over your pulse, just enough to send a jolt through you, sharp and unexpected, making your breath catch in your throat.

You tilted your head to the side, giving him more access, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer as you whispered, “Everyone’s going to notice, you know. You weren’t exactly subtle when you dragged me off like that.”

The corner of his mouth curled into a grin, but it was dark now, and there was a sudden pressure in his hands as he adjusted his position against you. “Let them notice,” he said, his voice thick with something unspoken.

He kissed down your neck, his lips trailing lower, his breath hot against your skin. “I don’t care. They can see whatever they want.”

The words sent a wave of heat rushing through your body, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, your nails scraping lightly over his back.

—-

When it was over, you leaned back against the wall, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady your breath.

Lando, however, was already standing in front of you, his hair tousled, his hoodie still hanging off his frame in a way that somehow made it look even better on him than it ever had before.

He bent down casually to scoop your underwear from the floor, dangling them in front of you with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Come on, love,” he said, his voice rough and teasing, still thick with exertion. “Don’t leave me hanging. Put these back on before we go out there.”

You shot him a glare, snatching the fabric from his hand and hurriedly slipping it on, feeling the heat rush to your face.

Lando leaned back against the wall, watching you with a cocky, self-satisfied grin. “Still dripping with me,” he murmured, but the rasp in his voice made your stomach flip. You felt your cheeks flush even more.

You rolled your eyes, tugging the hoodie down to hide your body and fix your composure. “You’re disgusting.”

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with a wink. “Guess that says something about you too.”

The studio lights were still dimmed as you walked back in, legs slightly unsteady. You caught yourself on the doorframe, trying to keep your cool, but the feeling between your legs was still fresh, raw.

Lando followed you, smirking like a cat that had just caught its prey. He leaned against the wall, eyes on you as his grin grew wider. “Fix your hair,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “You look like you just got fucked.”

You barely suppressed a laugh, brushing your fingers through your hair and pulling it back into something that at least resembled “done.” “Gee, I wonder why,” you muttered under your breath.

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the way you were still trying to play it cool. “Hey, I didn’t hear you complaining.”

You narrowed your eyes, about to retort when Lando took a step forward, his smirk never fading, and pulled you close. He kissed you softly, lingering, the kind of kiss that made it hard to remember where you ended and he began.

“Come on,” he murmured against your lips as he pulled away, the mischief still dancing in his eyes. “We’ve got a photoshoot to finish.”

—-

Months passed.

The LaFerrari didn’t show up.

Not that you cared. Really.

Sure, it had been a fun little joke—“Pay me in a LaFerrari or I’m not doing this shoot”—but you never expected Lando to actually follow through.

He said he would but Lando also forgot to stock up on groceries some days so you didn’t take it to heart.

Besides, it wasn’t like you had time to think about it.

Your schedule was relentless: fashion weeks in Paris, Vogue shoots in Milan, fittings for Dior in New York.

You were barely home long enough to unpack, let alone pine after a car.

It wasn’t a big deal.

Until one night, after a particularly grueling flight back from London, you pulled into your driveway and-

You slammed the brakes.

Because there it was.

A LaFerrari.

Burgundy red. Like aged wine. Like sin and velvet had a baby and parked it outside your house.

It gleamed under the porch light, shameless and expensive.

For a full minute, you did nothing but stare, slack-jawed.

Then you slowly got out of the car, leaving your bags in the trunk.

“Lando,” you muttered, pulling out your phone.

You called.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, baby- what’s up?”

“You left a LaFerrari on my driveway.”

“Oh! You got home?” He sounded way too casual.

“Lando. There is a multi-million-dollar car parked outside my house.”

“Yeah, about that. It’s yours. Obviously.”

“…You’re joking.”

“Would I joke about something this expensive?”

“Yes.”

“Fair. But not this time.”

You stared at the car again.

“Are you serious? After months?”

“It takes time to deliver a LaFerrari!” Lando said, his voice way too serious for a man who had just been exposed.

“I had to get it customized, too. Your name is literally engraved on the side. And then there was the whole issue with cargo. Did you know they’re super strict about how cars are transported? I had to make sure it wasn’t gonna get dented, and the shipping company I trust didn’t have any available slots until-”

“I thought you were joking, Lando!”

“Well, I wasn’t,” he replied confidently. “You said you wanted a LaFerrari. You said ‘make it red wine,’ so I made it red wine. I also got the seats customized with carbon fiber inserts and-”

You groaned in disbelief, interrupting him. “You literally bought the car, customized it, and shipped it to my house."

Lando blinked, unfazed. “Well, yeah. Obviously. Did you think I was kidding about that part?”

“Yes! It’s a LaFerrari! Who even does that?! It’s absurd!”

"Clearly me.” He paused. “Check the glove compartment.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

Suspicious, you approached the car, heels clicking on the pavement. You opened the door.

God, even the door sounded expensive- and popped the glove compartment.

Inside was a tiny Hot Wheels car. A red LaFerrari.

Taped to it was a sticky note.

“Just in case this one wasn’t enough. - Lando”

You stared at it.

You looked back at the LaFerrari, glinting under the sun like some ridiculous, over-the-top love letter.

“…I’m taking it to the Dior fitting tomorrow.”

“You better.”

“…Is this why you were ignoring my texts last week?”

“I wasn’t ignoring you! I was busy coordinating with Italy!”

“Oh my God.”

[xuchiya]

the beauty of us || jung wooyoung || one-shot

|genre: boyfriend! wooyoung. girlfriend! reader. just pure fluff and wooyoung being a real man out here |mentions: nothing really.

summary: As you test shades and colors, he offers himself—literally—as the canvas for your art. In the middle of the bustling mall, his playful curiosity and quiet devotion create a masterpiece of their own.

word count: 1.1k

As I descended the stairs of my apartment, the faint jingle of my car and apartment keys filled the otherwise quiet air. The cool morning breeze slipped through the slightly open window in the stairwell, carrying with it a sense of unhurried peace. I approached the shoe rack near the door, carefully slipping into my sandals, the soft scrape of their straps fitting into place.

Behind me, the sound of socked feet padding softly on the wooden floor made me pause.

“Oh? Are you going somewhere?” came a familiar voice, light and inquisitive.

I turned my head to find Wooyoung standing there, leaning casually against the wall with a curious tilt to his head. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d just woken up, and his eyes sparkled with interest.

“Yeah,” I replied with a small nod, holding up my keys. “I’m heading to the mall to pick up some make-up. I’ve run out of a few things.”

For a split second, his expression lit up, a glimmer of excitement crossing his face. Before I could say another word, he suddenly bounced on his toes, his energy spilling over.

“Oh~ I’ll pay!” he announced, his tone playful but sincere, his hand already reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

I blinked, caught off guard by his enthusiasm. “You don’t have to do that,” I said, though a smile tugged at my lips.

“But I want to!” he insisted, his grin widening. “Think of it as my way of making sure you get only the best.” He winked, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell if he was serious or just being his usual cheeky self.

“Well, if you’re coming, don’t complain about how long I’ll take,” I warned, narrowing my eyes at him playfully.

“Long?” he repeated, pretending to be offended. “With me around, shopping will be fun and efficient. You’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes, slipping my phone into my bag. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Deal!” he chirped, already slipping on his sneakers.

As I watched him tie his laces with unbridled excitement, I couldn’t help but feel a warmth in my chest. Wooyoung always had a way of turning the simplest things into something memorable, and I had a feeling today would be no exception.

“You know, you can still back out right,” I told Wooyoung for the third time as we stepped into the mall. “It’s just make-up shopping. It could take ages.”

“I’ve got time,” he said with a grin, hands shoved into his pockets. “Besides, I want to see what this whole make-up business is about.”

I gave him a skeptical look, but he just winked at me, completely unbothered. It wasn’t long before we found ourselves in the brightly lit cosmetics section of a department store. A sales associate handed me a small shopping basket, and I immediately began scanning the shelves, looking for the essentials I needed.

Wooyoung, true to his word, wasn’t just there to follow silently behind me. Instead, he picked up random products, holding them up like they were foreign artifacts. “What’s this for?” he asked, squinting at a bottle of primer.

“It’s primer. It creates a smooth base for make-up.”

“And this?” He held up a brow gel.

“Keeps your eyebrows in place.”

His curiosity was endless, and honestly, it was kind of adorable. He’d inspect each product, occasionally putting it back or pretending to test it on himself just to make me laugh. But then, his questions turned into quiet observation.

As I moved down the aisles, I swatched foundation shades on the back of my hand, testing each one under the harsh store lights to see which matched my skin tone. Wooyoung watched intently, his head tilting slightly as if trying to figure out my process.

“You’re really thorough about this,” he remarked after a while.

“I have to be. My skin’s super sensitive,” I explained, showing him my hand now streaked with various shades of foundation. “If I pick the wrong one, I’ll break out, or worse, get a rash.”

He nodded thoughtfully but didn’t say much. Moments later, I noticed him picking up a palette of blushes and trying to mimic what I was doing—pressing a small amount on his wrist and holding it up to the light.

“What do you think of this one?” he asked, holding out his arm.

I stifled a laugh, impressed by his effort. “Not bad. You’re getting the hang of it.”

By the time we made it to the eyeshadow section, my arm was a rainbow of shades, from blushes to highlighters and eyeshadows. It was getting harder to find space to test new colors. Wooyoung noticed and, without a word, rolled up his sleeve and extended his arm toward me.

“Here, use mine,” he said casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

I blinked at him, surprised by the gesture. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Why not?”

He held his arm steady as I gently swiped on a few shades, blending them with my fingers to see how they’d look. His skin tone was slightly different from mine, but it worked well enough for testing. The onlookers around us couldn’t help but giggle and whisper. A couple of them even squealed quietly, clearly charmed by the scene.

Wooyoung, unfazed by the attention, just smiled at me. “Told you it will be fun and efficient,” he admitted, glancing at the colors now adorning his forearm.

“Yeah yeah whatever” I teased, dabbing a shimmering gold eyeshadow onto his wrist.

“But mostly, I like seeing how happy it makes you.” His tone was light, but the sincerity in his eyes made my cheeks warm, a soft smile was on my lips as I placed back the palette on the shelf. By the end of our trip, we both had arms covered in a patchwork of colors, but my basket was filled with carefully chosen products. As we headed to the checkout, I couldn’t help but glance at Wooyoung, who was grinning like he’d just discovered a new hobby.

“Thanks for tagging along,” I said softly. He shrugged, pulling out his wallet and handing over his card, “Thanks for letting me be your test subject. Anytime you need another arm, I’m your guy.”

The sales associate at the counter smiled knowingly as she handed me my bag. “You’re lucky to have him,” she said with a wink.

I couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah, I am.”

As we walked out of the store, Wooyoung leaned in and said, “Next time, you’ll have to teach me how to actually use this stuff.”

“Deal,” I replied with a laugh, grabbing his hand, intertwining them as I lead us to the food court.

[dsireland86]

Okay can you please make a Emotional Dad Folio x fem reader fic who after a tough and risky labor gets to see his wife and baby safe and sound finally. But even better him finally getting to hold his baby for the first time and just having a full tears and snot breakdown cause he was scared and is just happy they're okay

This is just the sweetest. I had this whole scenario played out in my head before I even wrote it down 😁🥰

Emotional Dad

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@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @supersquirrel1996 @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h

I wasn't even sure I wanted kids until the moment my girl came to me with something in her hand. Y/N was glowing and never looked as pretty as she did in that moment when she told me to close my eyes. Her excitement made me excited. After pecking her lips, I closed my eyes. The item she put in my hands weighed about as much as a feather, so when Y/N told me to open my eyes, what I saw wasn't at all what I expected; a pregnancy test with two blue lines. She was pregnant. It was then I realized that the idea of having a baby was really something I wanted, but only because it was with the woman standing in front of me. Picking her up, I hugged and kissed Y/N, assuring her I was thrilled about us having a baby, and as the months went by and her belly grew bigger and bigger, the anticipation of meeting our child grew. Thankfully, our love making didn't stop. Y/N was even more beautiful with our baby growing inside her, making her so irresistible that I found it difficult to keep my hands off of her. The first few months were nothing, but as the baby got bigger so did her belly making it kind of hard. I grew nervous, even after reading everything I did about it, but Y/N reassured me that it was okay and that it wouldn't hurt the baby. After that, it was game on, buddy, and we made some of the best love the two of us had ever had. We were happy, and so ready to meet our little one, but not just yet. There was still a little while to go before that could happen. Or so we thought.

"Nick! Nick! Wake up, please!" Y/N shrieked in pain as she sat up in bed clutching her belly. "Oh god, it freaking hurts." 

Folio sat up, completely startled.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes. "I don't know! Something hurts, really bad, ohhh! Ouch!"

Y/N started crying, gripping the bed sheets tightly. Folio jumped out of bed, slipping on a pair of jeans, socks and his shoes, before grabbing his keys and wallet. Sending a quick text to the guys in a group chat, he leapt over to Y/N's side of the bed.

"Is it contractions? The, er, the ones you say aren't real?" "Braxton Hicks, and no, this is not them. Oh god! Baby, something is wrong!"

Folio placed his hand on his wife's belly, feeling just how active their little one was. But he noticed that something didn't feel right. Lifting Y/N's shirt, the round shape of her belly made him grin. He was definitely going to miss it and the feeling of their baby moving around inside. He leaned down and kissed it while gently running his hands all over, pushing on certain spots and noting things that once felt familiar didn't anymore. In Y/N's lower abdomen where the baby's head should be, there were movements that shouldn't, and feeling up the middle of her belly, he no longer felt the tightness of where the little knees and feet should be. Folio frowned, fearing that what he was thinking might be true. Y/N shrieked in pain, screaming through a loud cry.

"Nick! Make it stop! Please!" she begged, grabbing his arm. "Okay, baby. Alright," he said as calmly as he could. Throwing a shirt on, he helped Y/N up and to the car, running back in to grab the overnight bags.

All the way to the hospital, Y/N held on to her husband's arm, gripping his hand tighter each time the pain came. Her cries and pleas for the pain to stop wrecked his heart and it killed him knowing he couldn't stop it or take any of it away.

"Nick, I love you," Y/N said breathlessly through her pain. "Thank you for being here. Thank you for being so nice."

Folio chuckled.

"I love you, too, Sweetheart. We're going to get through this, okay? It might not seem okay right now, but in the end everything's going to be alright. And hopefully, soon, we'll be holding our baby."

Y/N looked over at him and smiled the best she could despite the pain, nodding quickly right before another wave of pain hit. Finally getting to the hospital, Folio walked Y/N into the labor and delivery ward, calling for help the moment they stepped in. A nurse brought over a wheelchair and helped Y/N sit then wheeled her through a set of double doors as Folio filled out paperwork and informed them on what was happening.

"Wait! Where are you taking her?" Folio asked in a panic, abandoning the paperwork. "Mr. Folio, it's fine. Your wife is being taken to a room. I'll take you there once you're finished."

Nick sighed, running his hand through his hair. He'd been trying his hardest to keep it together for Y/N, but now that he wasn't with her, he felt like he might fall apart. The doors behind him opened and in walked his four brothers, instantly making him feel better.

"What's the word, Folio," Noah asked, his tone thick with concern.

Nick shook his head.

"I'm about to head back. She's in a room, I think." "Do you know what happened? Why is she in so much pain?" asked Jolly.

Folio sighed. "I think, and I could be wrong; God I hope I'm wrong, but I think the baby is breached."

The guys looked at one another, some of them shrugging.

"It means the baby is trying to come out feet and bottom first instead of head first," Folio explained with a sigh. "Oh, fuck no!" Matt cried, biting his knuckle. “Couldn’t that seriously hurt her and the baby?” Nicholas asked.

Before anyone could answer, the double doors opened and a different nurse than before came out.

"Mr. Folio, can you please come with me?" "What's wrong? Is my wife okay?" "Can you please just come with me, sir,” the nurse beckoned Nick towards the double doors.

"Can they come, too?" he asked, nodding at the other four.

The nurse creased her forehead and pursed her lips.

"Are they yours or your wife's family?" "One hundred percent we are," Jolly spoke up.

The nurse cracked a smile, nodding sharply.

"Fine. Follow me."

She led them down the hall, to the right, down another short hall, and to the right again, stopping at a door to a waiting room. Folio looked at her confused.

"Wait. What about the room she was supposed to be in? I thought she was going into a delivery room."

Folio's heart started pounding.

"She was, but then something happened and they had to take her to surgery," the nurse said softly. She opened the door and ushered the boys in. "Hold up! Surgery! What do you mean surgery," Noah snapped.

Nick thought he was going to be sick. He was bent over, breathing hard and trying not to panic, but the thought of something terrible happening to his wife and child felt like his world was crashing down on him.

"Mrs. Folio is in surgery because the baby is breached. If you don't know what that means," "We know what it means," Matt interrupted, scowling at the nurse. She scowled right back. "Will they be alright?"

Folio was motionless, standing next to Nicholas. He felt sick, unable to move. He looked at the nurse as two small tears slid down his cheeks.

"I can't say. I don't have enough information. You all can wait here until a surgical nurse comes out and gives you better information. Should be within the hour."

With that, she turned and walked out another door, opposite the one they came in.

Folio paced. He sat, he paced, he ran his hands consistently through his hair, bit his nails, and then sat some more. He fought the tears, but lost the battle, allowing them to fall as he thought about the idea of losing Y/N. A world without her was one he didn't want to think about. Then he thought about his child, the little life he had yet to meet. He didn't even know the sex yet because he and Y/N chose to find out at birth. The tears fell harder as Nick sat back down, covering his face in his hands. After what felt like hours, a nurse came into the waiting room. She wasn't smiling, but not a lot of the nurses in the hospital did, as Nick picked up on.

"Mr. Folio, I need you to come with me, please," she ordered. All of them started to follow her, but she stopped them. "Only you."

Folio looked from her to the guys, then back to the nurse.

"Okay," he agreed, weakly.

He knew what was coming. He could feel it as he walked the hall, following the nurse closely. His wife was dead, and possibly their child, too. It was obvious from the way the nurse looked at him and spoke. The thought made Folio cry harder, no longer caring who saw.

Weeping silently, they rounded a corner, stopping at a room with a closed door. Gently knocking, the nurse opened the door and they entered into a dimly lit room. It took a moment for Nick's eyes to adjust, but when they did the first thing he saw was Y/N. She was alive and well, resting comfortably in a bed with their baby in her arms. Folio gasped, the very intake of breath hitching in the back of his throat.

"Did you think something bad had happened?" the nurse whispered. Nick huffed a light laugh, pushing his hair back. "Yeah, kind of."

The nurse placed her hand on Folio's back and patted it gently.

"They're both perfectly fine. Your wife went through it, but she's a fighter. You better worship the ground she walks on from now on."

Folio grinned.

"I already do, ma'am." "Good. Then go be with your girls. They need you."

Folio froze, eyes widening.

"Girls?"

The nurse smiled big.

"You didn't know you were having a daughter?" "No. We decided to wait." "Well, now the wait is over."

Folio smiled, focusing his attention back to his girls as the nurse left the room. The sound of the door closing caught Y/N's attention. She looked up and smiled the moment her eyes landed on her husband.

"Nick! Come here! Come meet our daughter!" she said quietly as to not wake the sleeping child.

Nick's chest no longer ached. He was able to take a deep breath as he urgently made his way over to the bed, never taking his eyes off his wife. Even though she looked exhausted, Y/N was still the most beautiful thing ever to him. She was alive. She was healthy. She was his.

"Are you okay? You look worried."

Y/N took his hand and brought it to her face, kissing his palm sweetly.

"Yeah," Folio smiled even though his eyes welled up with tears. "I'm fine. Just really happy you're okay. Both of you."

He wasn't about to indulge his wife with his fears and worries of the past hour. He'd save that for another day. He shifted his gaze from Y/N to the sleeping bundle in her arms; his daughter.

"Do you want to hold her?"

Nick's eyes swiftly looked at Y/N's.

"But she's asleep." "That's okay. She won't mind. I'm sure she wants to finally meet her daddy," Y/N said sweetly to him.

At first, he was terrified, but after leaning over and taking the tiny baby into his arms, Folio had never felt more happy and complete as he did right then. She fit perfectly in the cook of his arm, all bundled up in her tiny pink blanket. Her little button nose and small thin lips were like those of a baby doll, and for a brief moment, Folio thought he might accidently break her. And that's when he broke. Tears ran down his face as he cried, gazing upon the face of his little girl, and he sniffed and sniffed as the tears fell onto her blanket.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Y/N asked gently.

At first, Folio just shook his head, unable to speak.

"Hey, come here, come sit with me," she patted the spot on the bed in front of her.

"Talk to me, Nick. Tell me what you're thinking."

"I thought I lost you," he said, his voice breaking. "I didn't know what happened to you when they took you back through those double doors."

Y/N's shoulders fell.

"Babe, oh no, I'm so sorry," she apologized, laying her forehead on her husband's shoulder and placing her hand on his thigh.

"I waited for over an hour and no one could or wouldn't tell me anything. I didn't know what to think. When they told me that the baby was breached, it almost killed me. I knew back at the house that something didn't feel right when I laid my hands on your belly, but I wasn't prepared for everything that happened. I just..."

Folio hung his head, weeping quietly. His shoulders shook as he hugged his daughter to his chest, silently thanking God that she was okay.

"Nick, baby, I'm so sorry you went through all of that," Y/N apologized, choking up on her words. "Everything on our end went okay; just really fast. They told me she was breached and that made everything make sense. I wasn't really scared about the surgery, but just freaked out because you weren't with me. They told me you couldn't be because it was an emergency procedure. But I didn't feel anything and it was all over quicker than I realized."

Folio nodded, wiping his nose on the should of his shirt before placing a kiss on his daughter's head.

"Where do I lay her?" "Right here," Y/N told him, pointing to the rolling bassinet next to her.

Nick laid the baby down, caressing her little cheek before leaving her to find his wife. He stood over her, admiring the face he loved so much, thankful that they were finally together again. Y/N carefully scooted over some and Nick climbed in, throwing his arm around her shoulder where she settled in comfortably. Having him close to her again made Y/N feel complete.

"I love you, Nick. "I love you, too Sweetheart, and our little angel." "I realize she needs a name, right?"

Nick could hear the smile in her voice.

"Any ideas?" "No. You?" "Not yet. Let's get to know her a little first." "She needs one before we leave the hospital."

Folio smiled, kissing his wife's forehead.

"She'll have one."

Y/N grinned, burying herself deeper into Folio's side where she fell asleep almost instantly.

[pushspacetocontinue]

"Yeah, they are!" Travis said, "We may all be all big old meathead gym bros, but still enjoy our cute things. It took us long enough to learn we can still like cute things."

"Oh shut your trap!" Travis said, smirking once more when Erica worked to force his mouth open, "Damn right we're doing the world a favour. We're doing ourselves a favour too."

With that, he shoved one of the socks into Ratchet's mouth, before tying the other one around Ratchet's face to act as a makeshift gag, and to make it harder to potentially spit the first one out.

Russell tugged at a sleeve.

"I'm, I'm glad you, you switched sides too. But not, not just because of, of this or anything, but, but because you, you found something you, you can do for you, and I'll, I'll always be, be proud that, that you found that you could, you could choose your, your own path and, and walked it," Russell said. That may have seemed sappy, but it was certainly true, even more so than ever, with everything that had happened.

Russell couldn't help but wonder just what Rook meant by that as well. But it seemed that right now wasn't the time to talk about it.

"He sounds pretty hardcore," Travis said. He had thought the guy hadn't looked like much of a threat, creepy eyes aside, but it sounded like he had underestimated him, "I might sit out the viewing, but I'll gladly hear stories about it. I'll love to hear how he's broken him down."

Russell couldn't blame him. He wasn't so sure he wanted to see for himself just what hypnotist had in mind either, but he could probably help in some other way. Perhaps he could provide the said popcorn before hightailing it out of there, like a coward. He told himself not to think about it.

"No problem," Travis agreed.

"Y-yeah, s-sure, Rook," Russell said, snapping out of his thoughts then, "That, that sounds, sounds good to me. S-sorry for, you know, the um, the, heh, the sudden added work-workload."

Erica's ears perked up upon hearing that her gift had been appreciated.

"Nice pick!" Erica chuckled, "Heck yes! They're going to be so jealous."

She then turned to dispel the shadows, allowing Ratchet to share his opinion on the situation.

"You!" He glared at Rook, "Stop that right now. You hear me? I will–"

"What? Are you going to cry harder?" Rook scoffed, "I'm probably doing the world a favour."

Erica pounced and wrapped an arm around Ratchet's neck before reaching up to force his mouth open. "Make this harder than it has to be and we'll find out how long your intestines are."

"Don't worry, Russell. I understand this must be done." Lucien replied, "I'm simply very glad to have switched sides and possibly restraining myself from making any tasteless jokes."

In any case, Erica's cheerful tone while she tortured Ratchet made it all the more surreal. He was oh so glad to not be on the bad side of any of the present.

"Yes. Having been there, it's one of those experiences I wouldn't wish on most." Rook explained.

That caused Lucien to raise an eyebrow, but kept his thoughts on the matter to himself. Perhaps Rook was starting to remember what happened to her. He would question her about it later.

"That's him alright." Rook confirmed, "Not even your stupid boss could resist him. He's going to break you like a twig and we'll be sitting there with popcorn."

With Ratchet successfully terrified, Rook stood up and dusted off her shirt.

"Thanks, but I have a more efficient way of transportation. We're going to look for an isolated place first. We're not going to do anything until we have everything sorted, okay?"

[y2ksnowglobe]

People of the jury, I do not consider myself a Glenn apologist by any means, but today I present the following argument. "Glenn didn't teach Nick to smoke, provide him directly with weed, or particularly approve of Nick smoking." Snowglobe, you say...that's a bold stance, and to that I say fair, it is, but Glenn has always been a slippery bastard when it comes to pinning him down in canon, and while I don't think this is the only way to read Glenn, it is a canon-compliant way to interpret Glenn.

So now that you've clicked on the Read More to hear me out, you might be saying "Snowglobe, this is too easy. In Episode 51 Glenn admits to showing Nick how to smoke."

Or maybe you don't say that because you don't have an encyclopedic knowledge of this show, which in that case, good for you! I'm not proud of this accomplishment!

But, back to the evidence at hand. The canonicity of any of the "Freddie being contrarian to Jodie" Dad Facts I think is up for debate. From a Doyleist perspective, we as the audience can interpret these facts to be more about the sibling dynamic between Freddie and Jimmy, and less about being true to Glenn as a character.

However, I'm not completely satisfied with just a Doyleist argument, we're getting into the Watsonian as well.

So firstly we have the implication that Glenn actually doesn't smoke cigarettes, which is interesting and a bit unexpected to be honest. However, the main point I'd argue that after raising Nick with healthy skepticism for authority, Glenn telling Nick straight up not to smoke is not going to work.

"But Snowglobe," you say, "That's still teaching Nick to smoke, right?"

"Perhaps," I might admit, "If we didn't have canon evidence of Glenn teaching the Oak twins how to smoke.

That's right! Glenn purposefully instructed the twins on the incorrect form! So, people of the court, I argue, might Glenn have not done the same thing with Nick? And furthermore, when comparing the stories of Jodie and Glenn illustrating smoking to Nick, Jodie is the one who is specified to have taken a drag and nearly hacked up a lung.

Now being a weed smoker, Glenn would likely have been able to tolerate inhaling cigarette smoke without reacting as violently as Jodie, but it could also be that Glenn didn't end up choking because he wasn't inhaling.

"But what about his point that it was so Nick would look cool?" You may ask.

You know what isn't going to make Nick look cool? Hacking up a lung while trying to smoke for the first time in front of people he wants to impress.

I feel that what Glenn underestimates is just how perceptive and observant Nick is (possibly because Glenn himself is not the most perceptive and observant) so he doesn't quite make the jump that Nick is going to figure out how smoking works just from watching Glenn, leading to...

"Oh Snowglobe, how are you going to get around Nick saying he got the weed from Glenn," because you are unaware I am constructing this argument and wouldn't have brought this up without having already considered it.

FIrstly, this is a fairly clear reference to an old drug PSA

But that's again a Doyleist explanation.

However, with how much this weed knocks Glenn's socks of with dankness, we can put together that Nick isn't literally saying he got this weed from Glenn, if he had, Glenn would not be surprised by it. So yes, Anthony was making a reference, but it's also possible that Nick was making a reference as well, indicating that he picked up smoking weed from watching Glenn, rather than saying Glenn is the reason he has the specific weed he's smoking, or alternatively, Nick took some weed from a stash Glenn hadn't gotten into yet, and is just being very upfront and honest about getting it from Glenn as opposed to buying it illegally from somewhere or someone else.

Additionally, Nick states that he thought he'd try smoking because it's something that seems to make Glenn happy and appear cool. This feels like something that would be very odd for Nick to say if Glenn had been the one teaching/encouraging him to smoke weed, and also odd if Glenn had been aware of Nick smoking weed before this.

Taking a detour back to the "Glenn taught Nick how to smoke wrong" theory, it's commented on that despite being a Nat 20 dank level weed, Nick seems to be handling it much better than Glenn, which could suggest that maybe Nick isn't properly inhaling. This one is a little bit of a stretch but after all Glenn taught Nick to smoke so he would "look cool" and here Nick is trying to "look cool" so it is a possible interpretation, though I feel not the strongest point to be made here, and future evidence is going to make it a little more dicey of a call.

Now I don't want to get into it too much in this post (because I have this post that covers it instead) but Glenn can, and does push back on Nick's behavior but also is pretty conflict averse and is violently allergic to vulnerability.

So, is Glenn going to have a full discussion, in front of Darryl and Grant who are waiting on them to get in the car, about how even though Glenn smokes weed, Nick shouldn't? No, obviously. So what does he do instead? Sure Freddie phrases it as Glenn "persuading [Nick] to let [him] take a hit" but from the practical perspective he is getting the weed away from Nick. He frames it as being because of Darryl that they have to leave it behind, but given that at this point Glenn isn't willing to admit he's a DJ to Nick, it's a lot to expect him to own wanting Nick to leave the weed behind because Glenn doesn't want him to have it, and while it is pure speculation due to being such different from the path of the actual narrative, if they hadn't all been pulled into the realms, I don't think it's too far fetched to consider Glenn having a talk with Nick about it after they got home from the game. As mentioned in the linked post in the previous paragraph, Glenn addresses Nick's swearing and Nick is fairly receptive and corrects his behavior in response to it.

"But Snowglobe," you are unable to stop yourself from saying because the second person narration compels you to continue to engage with this discussion. "Swearing is one thing, Glenn talking to Nick about smoking is different."

Well, what if I told you that, because I'm controlling your dialogue, you have fallen into my clever trap! Because I was talking about Glenn discussing weed with Nick, we don't have to consider whether or not he would talk about smoking with Nick, because there's evidence he already has!

So if you didn't catch it, it's because I argue the transcript got this one wrong. I'm of the opinion that it is Glenn and not Freddie who says, "They said everyone vapes." Who is they in this sentence? I submit that it was Nick who told Glenn this when Glenn tried to broach the topic of vaping with him and Glenn was either fooled by Nick's bluff (kid has a record for being able to pull those off, made up a lie about a wizard cursing him so his head would fall off if he left the Watermice and got everyone to believe him) or wasn't willing to keep pushing when Nick put up the resistance of that excuse.

"Okay, Snowglobe, this has all been very clever, but the trial..."

Yes, yes, the trial. There are two segments of note here and we'll tackle the easiest one first, and that's from Nick's testimony.

Nick claims he would smoke weed if Glenn asked him to because it would make him a cool guy. This is different from saying he has done that. Now this might bring into question why Nick would have potentially lied to Glenn about everyone vaping, and for that it really comes down to a simple equation. [Glenn asking him to]+[Makes him a cool guy]=[Nick is gonna do the thing]. However, considering Nick likes Minions despite Glenn claiming to not like them and Nick not liking Disneyland, we can see that at this point in his life, Nick is starting to get a sense that Glenn asking him to do something does not by definition make it cool. So I don't think this counts as an admission of Glenn being one to actively pressure Nick into smoking.

Now onto Glenn's testimony.

Right off the bat we have Glenn denying he every purchased weed for Nick. Anthony doesn't make him roll deception and no one attempts to accuse him of perjury, so we kind of have to take him at his word there.

When asked how Nick learned how to smoke weed, Glenn doesn't take credit, and given how he's willing to credit his own dad for teaching him, there's room to believe that Glenn possibly would just straight up admit to teaching Nick, even in a court of law. Also worth noting is that Glenn pivots the topic from smoking weed to vaping, which since we can surmise he's had a conversation with Nick about that, we get a sense that it's also the behavior he's more familiar with Nick doing (also emphasized by how Nick talked about smoking weed with Nick in episode one).

And no, I didn't skip over Glenn proudly admitting that Nick knows how to smoke weed, and to be fair, this is possibly one of the biggest counterpoints to my thesis, but I think when we look at who Glenn is as a character, we can see him making the choice to answer this question the way he does without it contradicting my previous points.

Glenn has a carefully constructed identity he presents to the world that he will cling to, even to his own detriment.

Some notable examples of this behavior include:

When he admits he got kicked out of the band, he claims it was because of his tour antics, however, in the episode right before this, Glenn's Dad Fact is this:

While we may not know exactly why Glenn was asked to leave the trio, we can be pretty sure it's not because of his tour antics, but he has to keep up that facade. (I'm of the belief that Glenn was missing to many rehearsals to pick up DJ gigs to help support Nick, but that's just my own headcanon)

When dared to lose his ability to play guitar and instead become a Linkin Park cover DJ, Glenn could have admitted to having already been a DJ and that pointlessly giving up one of his two marketable skills was a bad deal, but instead he trashes the very concept of being a DJ (despite being one) and makes it seem like his choice is solely based on a sense of guitar supremacy.

Argues with Nick about Minions during the trial, even though, according to the Dadturday Night Live bonus episode, Glenn secretly also likes the minions.

So could Glenn act less proud of Nick being able to smoke weed? Yes of course he could, as established, there's a possible reading where Glenn is not thrilled about Nick trying this, but is he going to break and show that while on trial? The same trial where the previously mentioned Minions incident happens? Also, in front of his dad? The dad who likely instilled all these maladaptive coping strategies in him? Of course he's not going to act like this is a thing he doesn't approve of or is ashamed of in these circumstances!

Now of course, none of this completely absolves Glenn of being, as Henry puts it, a mediocre father. There are still a whole ton of issues to unpack with the Glenn and Nick dynamic, but Glenn is a character who is left with so much room for nuance and differing interpretation, that it seems a waste not to explore the slightly less shitty possibilities, where it's clear he's trying, but his issues keep getting in the way because he's afraid that any introspection will lead to having to confront his own grief about Morgan. In a Talking Dad episode, Freddie talks about how the ending he pictured for Glenn was to have him go with Nick to Morgan's grave, with the indication that he'd been avoiding visiting it, and I think reading Glenn in the way presented in this argument is a solid base to get us to that ending, sure the dice may have gotten in the way, but I think it still shines some insight onto how Freddie was crafting the character.

[actualalligator]

Buddie!

63. "You can't even say it with a straight face."

Anon, it's been 8 million years, and I apologize for that, but we got here in the end.

Buck frowned, watching Eddie. "You don't want to tell them," he said after a second.

"What? No! I said we could!" Eddie replied, pulling back.

Buck leaned back against the jeep. "You can't even say it with a straight face. Boyfriend. Buck is my boyfriend."

Eddie scrubbed a hand over his face. "You are! I just don't see why everybody needs to know. It's our business, Buck."

Buck looked toward the firehouse, then back at Eddie before pushing away from the jeep. He hiked the strap up his bag higher up on his shoulder. "It's the 118, not a bunch of strangers. But if you don't want people to know you're dating me..." He shrugged. "I can't force you, Eddie."

"Buck, hey, that's not--" Eddie started to reach out right as Chimney pulled into the lot, window down. He drew back but caught the hurt on Buck's face before he managed to shove it down.

"I'll see you inside," Buck said.

He thought this was different. This thing with Eddie felt different. Sure, it hadn't started as a shining moment, both a little too tipsy, Buck heart broken over Tommy and Eddie in whatever had been happening with the shirt, briefs, and tube socks. They'd woken up and promised it was just one night, but it wasn't. Because it kept happening. They kept falling into bed over and over.

And Buck realized somewhere along the way that whatever they were doing felt right. It kinda felt like forever. He'd tried to keep that to himself, to stay casual, but then he lost someone on a call, and Eddie was there to keep him together when he started to fall apart.

"I think I love you, Buck," Eddie had said two days later. "But I'm scared. All of this is still new. I need time before I'm ready to let the world in."

But six months had gone by, and Buck was sure Eddie was the love of his life. He couldn't tell anyone, and in that, he felt lonely and isolated. He didn't have anybody to talk to, and he'd finally said something, made it clear that he couldn't just be Eddie's dirty little secret forever.

He wouldn't force Eddie to out himself, wouldn't dream of it. He'd end it. Smash his own heart in the process. What other choice did he have?

He changed quickly, sat down with the others for breakfast, made enough small talk to seem normal. He didn't look up when Eddie joined them, just picked the crumbled sausage from the breakfast casserole.

"Oh, Eddie!" Chimney said as he sat down. "Maddie wanted me to ask if you would be interested in coming with us to pickleball on Saturday. She wants to introduce you to Penny from the call center, and we got a great deal on a doubles package."

"Like a date?" Buck asked before he could help himself.

"Apparently, you putting your foot down on all future setups has not slowed your sister down one bit, Buckaroo," Chim laughed. "She just switched targets. What do you say, Eddie?"

Buck watched as Eddie sat down with a plate. He watched as Eddie smiled at Chim and, with an easy shrug of his shoulders, replied, "Why not?"

Buck felt as though someone had his lungs caught between their hands, giving a big squeeze.

He stood, the chair scraping loudly enough that everyone looked at him.

"You okay, Buck? You've hardly touched your casserole. I used half spicy sausage just how you like," Bobby asked.

Buck offered him a tight smile. "Yeah, just not hungry. I'm going to go make sure everything is stocked after last shift." He carried his plate to the counter and scraped it before rinsing it off and tucking it into the dishwasher.

"Buck, wait," Eddie said. His chair scraped against the floor. "I can't meet Penny, Chim. I'm... uh..."

Buck had stopped at the top of the stairs, but he wanted to disappear as he watched Eddie fumble.

"You'll have fun," he said. "Maddie's got a mean competitive streak."

Eddie stared at him for a few seconds, then shook his head. "But I already have a doubles partner, and if I've got any chance of beating Maddie, I'd better be playing with her equally competitive brother."

"Guys, it's just pickleball. It's not that serious," Chimney said after a short pause, then yelped when Hen smacked him in the arm.

"They're not talking about pickleball," she hissed.

"Eddie," Buck said quietly. He shook his head.

Eddie practically tripped over his chair on his way towards Buck. "It's never been about not wanting them to see you. Everyone should know how lucky I am to be loved by you. I've been afraid of people seeing me. I'm sorry. Please forgive me." He held out his hand.

Buck could feel his pulse racing, could hear little else than it pounding in his ears. But he took Eddie's hand and immediately tugged him close. "I love you."

Eddie wrapped his arms around Buck. "I love you too."

Thank you for the prompt!

[simcardiac-arrested]

wait, that elias?

[zarasharma]

zara wasn’t the type to feel this kind of connection with just anyone. Sure, she was bold, straightforward, and confident—anyone who had crossed paths with her in the hallways or talked to her knew that. But grayson? He was different. She couldn’t quite pin down if it was his age or just who he was, but she loved teasing him and watching him get all nervous about her words. It was cute, if she was honest, and it made her want to push the boundaries even more. "you can always forget about that control," she teased with a smirk. "at least for now. during finals week, though? sorry, gutierrez, but i’ll need to focus on passing my classes." her playful tone didn’t match the fire in her gaze, which practically dared him to lose his cool. still, she wasn’t entirely sure she’d be able to keep her hands to herself either. that tension between them? it was addicting. "oh, i know," she said with a smug grin. "it’s my superpower. but you don’t have to behave—why would you?" she chuckled softly, leaning closer, loving how the air between them practically crackled. moving in together had her more excited than she could put into words, though she didn’t want to come across as too head-over-heels. "as long as it’s just socks and not some other girl’s underwear, i think i’ll survive," she teased, raising a brow to emphasize her point. "besides, i was thinking about sleeping with you—no need for separate covers." her smile turned sly as she added, "though, full disclosure, i’m totally the type to steal them. i usually sleep in a big shirt and underwear." her wink made it clear she wasn’t kidding, and she knew exactly what kind of picture she was painting. when his hands found her waist, her breath hitched for just a second. he had a way of breaking through her composed exterior without even trying. "all at once?" she echoed, her voice soft but teasing as her gaze flickered down to his lips. "nah, maybe just this one." she started leaning in, feeling the world narrow down to just them—when her phone blared to life. "fuck me," she groaned, reluctantly pulling back and hopping off his desk to grab her phone. "my mom," she explained quickly before answering. "hey, mom?" her voice shifted into something softer, though the hint of annoyance lingered. "yeah, i’m at the library. i got distracted, but i’ll be home soon." her eyes met grayson’s, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "a friend’s driving me... yeah, love you too. go bug your son instead, okay? sure, bye." hanging up, she turned back to him with a playful glint in her eyes. "you’re driving me, right?" she asked, already knowing the answer. sure, she had lied to her mom, but she wasn’t about to let this moment with grayson end just yet.

Grayson couldn't help but smile at the way Zara leaned against his desk like it was something that was hers , the way her eyes sparkled with mischief and curiosity. The energy between them had shifted, and he could feel the tension in the air thickening with every word she said. She had this way of teasing him that made his heart race, even though he was trying to keep his cool. The truth was, being this close to her made it nearly impossible to keep his hands to himself, but he was doing his best to maintain control. "Well, you know," he started, voice low, "I'll try my best, but I can't promise anything." He couldn't stop his grin from widening as he met her sly gaze, the teasing edge in her tone making his heart skip a beat. "You really know how to make it hard for a guy to behave." When she raised her eyebrows at him, the playful glint in her eyes made it clear she was enjoying every second of this just as much as he was. Grayson found himself drawn to her, and it wasn't just her beauty. It was everything about her—the way she lit up a room and made him feel something. As she teased him about the odd socks, he couldn’t help but chuckle. "Yeah, well, you can blame my laundry habits for that," he said, a little sheepish, but his eyes never left hers. He stepped closer, feeling the magnetic pull between them growing stronger. The way she looked at him made his pulse quicken, and when she leaned in just a little closer, he could hardly breathe. Her words about routine settled in his mind, but then the teasing shifted, and he couldn't help but laugh at the mischievous glint in her eyes. He raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his voice. "I don't know... are you already planning on stealing all my covers?" When she asked if he was already in love with her, the question hit him harder than he expected. His heart beat a little faster, and for a split second, he wondered if she could see right through him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it—about how much he cared for her, how everything felt so natural when she was around. With a soft chuckle, he leaned in just a fraction closer, his voice quieter now, full of honesty. His hands pressed to the girl's waist. "Wouldn't you like to know? I can't spill all my secrets out all at once, can I?"

[simplydnp]

something about dan wearing the moth shirt and phil's socks having holes in them

[vaguely-concerned]

I am so so happy that lucanis' sensible neutral toned knitted sweater beneath his brooding hotboy black leathers turned out to be exactly the design cue crucial to understanding the actual nature of his character and personality that I took it for the first time we saw his default look fhsdkj. I continue to be enchanted by this detail in particular. it really does say it all

[batarangsoundsdumb]

[takethistoyourstardust]

mythbusters is really good at being extremely timeless but occasionally kari wears something that violently reminds me that this show was filmed in the 2000’s.

[puppppppppy]

people who do STEM or administration as a career full time and continue to do art as a hobby, I am scared of you but like in a hot way. youre like if we were allowed to have cold drinks in winter. i look at you and think of miles morales with his two cakes. do you want to make out sometime

[baede-6]

My friend,who has been playing Destiny since beta,told me the other day, with a straight face, that Hunters aren't based on bounty hunters...and he can't fathom why I don't take him seriously sometimes.

[tj-crochets]

Crafting update: I had the day off work, so I ran some errands and overdid it enough that my heart rate was acting up, so I decided it was a "sit and crochet" kind of day, except I overdid that too so now I have an almost-finished crocheted cauldron and a blister attempting to form on my finger, so no more crochet for me for a few days lol