#okay but I seriously need to get this done-

[izzih22]

heyy, first of all thank you for all the fics you’ve been releasing you’ve been doing alot for our entertainment 💕I would like to request a short for you to give you a break lol.

So Azzi’s at a bar with her friends, Paige isn’t there, and the topic of relationships come up and one of Azzi’s friends is talking about how her feet were hurting so her boyfriend helped her walk to the car and azzi’s like “you walk?” (paige literally carries her) i hope you get what i’m saying😭😭 the whole one shot is just her being oblivious to bad relationship things or just things that a normal human can do for themselves because paige treats her like an absolute goddess.

You Walk?

Note: thank you so much!! I kinda made it longer so hope you like it!!

It’s one of those rare weekends with no games and no early practices. Just an off-night, a quiet pocket of time in the chaos of their season. So naturally, KK suggests the local lounge down the road that doesn’t card too hard and plays R&B remixes on Saturdays.

They roll in like they always do—sweatpants and messy buns, still talking about drills that went wrong or teammates who didn’t box out. Azzi’s with them, of course, even if she keeps glancing at her phone every few minutes.

“Paige isn’t coming,” Caroline says as they slide into a corner booth, raising a brow.

Azzi looks up, too fast. “I know.”

“She had film or something, right?” KK asks, already digging into the nachos they ordered before even sitting down.

“Yeah,” Azzi nods, checking her phone again. “Film and then treatment on her ankle.”

“Poor girl’s glued together with KT tape and stubbornness,” Ice mutters, stealing a chip.

“She’s fine,” Azzi says. “She just… doesn’t rest unless someone makes her.”

“Guess that someone is you?” Sarah teases.

Azzi shrugs, biting back a smile. “Sometimes.”

The drinks come—sodas, Shirley Temples, one rogue ginger beer Ice claims “tastes mature.” The music is mellow, the lighting soft. It’s one of those rare moments they all feel twenty-something and not like full-time athletes living on granola bars and ankle braces.

“So,” Jana says, kicking things off as she always does, “relationship question.”

KK groans. “Why do you always do this?”

“Because we’re five girls in a booth on a Saturday night and I’m trying to live a rom-com.”

Caroline snorts. “You need better material.”

Jana ignores her. “What’s the most romantic thing someone’s done for you after a game?”

Ice perks up immediately. “Ooh. Okay, not a boyfriend, but the guy I’ve been seeing lately he picked me up from that away game last weekend, right? I had on these heeled boots…bad decision…and after the game, my feet were screaming. And he walked me all the way back to the car, like arm around me, helping me limp.”

“Aww,” Sarah coos.

Caroline nods. “That’s sweet.”

Azzi, sipping her lemonade, tilts her head. “Wait… you walked?”

The table quiets.

Ice looks over. “Yeah?”

“You didn’t get carried?”

KK snorts. “What?”

Azzi blinks slowly, clearly confused. “If my feet hurt, Paige just carries me to the car.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then…

“I’m sorry,” Caroline says, setting down her drink. “She what?”

Azzi shrugs. “Carries me. Like, arms around my neck, bridal style. She opens the car door with her elbow while holding me.”

Ice stares at her. “You mean like… she’s done this more than once?”

Azzi squints, doing mental math. “It’s kind of our thing. I don’t really walk if I don’t have to after games.”

Jana’s mouth is slightly open. “You… you don’t walk?”

“Not if I’m tired.”

Sarah leans in, looking way too invested. “Does she do this in public?”

“Yeah?”

Caroline is actively holding her head in her hands. “You’re not in a relationship. You’re in a royal court.”

“I thought this was normal,” Azzi mutters, eyes narrowing.

“Azzi,” KK says seriously. “She carried your entire duffel bag and you after the Stanford game.”

“I was sore!”

“She was too!”

Azzi frowns. “She’s stronger than me.”

Everyone knows she lying. Paige is strong but Azzi is a machine. But alas they don’t say anything just smirk.

“You could have walked.”

“Could I have?” Azzi asks genuinely, like she’s never considered the possibility.

Sarah is absolutely losing it. “What else does she do for you that you think is normal?”

Azzi shrugs. “I dunno. She ties my shoes sometimes?”

“Sometimes?” Ice echoes, nearly choking on her drink.

“Well, like, when I’m wearing those shoes with the complicated laces and I don’t feel like doing it. She does them for me.”

KK throws her head back. “I’m actually gonna scream.”

“Oh,” Azzi adds thoughtfully. “She always opens my water bottles too.”

Caroline leans across the table. “Azzi. You are a D1 athlete. You have hands.”

“She gets to them before I do!”

“I’ve watched her unwrap your protein bars.”

“Only the ones with the sticky wrappers.”

“She cuts your grapes.”

“They taste better when they’re in halves!”

“Have you ever carried her to the car?” Sarah asks.

Azzi blinks. “She doesn’t like being carried.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“No…”

Jana laughs. “You are a princess and you don’t even know it.”

“She microwaves my hoodie before practice when it’s cold,” Azzi offers softly, almost defensively now.

Caroline groans. “Microwaves?!”

“It’s not weird! She wraps it in a towel and puts it in for like, fifteen seconds. So it’s warm.”

KK turns to the group. “I am dating the wrong people.”

Ice clutches her drink. “I’m not even really dating and I feel wronged.”

Azzi’s phone buzzes. She glances at it and smiles instantly.

“What is it?” Caroline asks.

“She just texted me. ‘Did you eat enough?’”

“Tell her no,” Sarah says. “So she’ll pull up with food in twenty minutes and a blanket and probably a slideshow presentation about nutrients.”

Azzi giggles, typing a reply. The girls all watch her, a mix of affectionate disbelief and exasperated envy.

“You know what’s wild,” KK says, voice a little softer now. “She really doesn’t do that for anyone else.”

“Does what?” Azzi asks, still texting.

“All of it,” Jana says, smiling. “She’s cool with us, yeah. But Paige? She spoils you. Like, in ways she doesn’t even realize.”

“She worships you,” Caroline says, not unkindly. “You’re like her favorite person.”

Azzi blinks, cheeks pinking. “She’s my favorite person too.”

There’s a little silence after that. One of those good, warm ones.

Ice sighs dramatically. “Y’all are disgusting.”

Kk raises her glass. “To not walking.”

Everyone laughs.

Azzi raises her glass too, her phone lighting up again with a message from Paige.

PAIGE:

If you’re still hungry, I can bring you something when I’m done. Or just come pick you up.

She smiles, melts a little, and types back:

AZZI:

I’m good. But you can still come pick me up if you want. I miss you.

PAIGE:

On my way.

Azzi sets her phone down, heart full. Her team is still roasting her, still in disbelief but underneath it, there’s love. So much of it.

⸻

Azzi’s just stepped out of the bar when she sees her.

Paige is parked right out front, leaning casually against the passenger door in a hoodie and joggers, arms crossed, hair pulled back in a low bun like she didn’t spend the last two hours watching film and icing. Her eyes soften the second she sees Azzi.

Azzi doesn’t even try to play it cool. She lights up instantly.

Paige pushes off the car and meets her halfway.

“Hey,” she says, already reaching to adjust Azzi’s oversized sweatshirt like it’s her job.

Azzi smiles up at her. “Hi.”

“You tired?”

Azzi leans into her. “A little.”

And without missing a beat, she lifts Azzi right off the ground, arms around her back and under her knees, bridal style. Azzi doesn’t even flinch—she just folds into it, wraps her arms around Paige’s neck, and rests her head against her shoulder like they’ve done this a thousand times.

Inside the bar, five noses are pressed up against the window.

“NO. WAY,” KK whisper-yells.

“She didn’t even ask, Paige just knew,” Ice says, jaw dropped.

“She looks so happy,” Sarah mutters, a little too emotionally invested.

“I feel like I just watched a scene from a Netflix original,” Caroline says.

“Literally how does someone look hot while carrying another adult?” Jana asks, offended.

“Did you see how she opened the door without putting Azzi down?” Ice adds. “I didn’t even know you could do that.”

KK’s filming through the window. “If my future wife doesn’t treat me like I’m made of moonlight and satin sheets, I don’t want her.”

“You think she warmed up the car too?” Sarah asks.

“She probably pre-set the seat warmer,” Caroline says.

“Y’all,” Ice says, dropping her voice like it’s a national secret, “I used to think Paige was kind of quiet and chill. But she’s not. She’s just so gone for Azzi that none of us even exist when she’s around.”

The group stares out the window as Paige carefully lowers Azzi into the car, buckles her in, then presses a kiss to her forehead like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like muscle memory.

They’re still watching as the car pulls away.

Caroline turns back to the table.

“I think we just witnessed a mythological event.”

“I feel single,” KK says dramatically.

“You are single,” Jana deadpans.

“I feel extra single,” KK corrects.

Sarah’s already texting their group chat:

Sarah: azzi literally gets carried home like a fairy tale

Sarah: if she ever says “paige isn’t that romantic” again we’re playing the window footage

Caroline opens her soda, toasts the air, and says, “To setting the bar unreasonably high.”

They all clink their glasses together.

And somewhere across town, Azzi leans into Paige’s shoulder in the car and says, “They roasted me so bad.”

Paige just smiles. “Good. Let them be jealous.”

Azzi’s grin turns soft. “I’m really lucky.”

Paige glances over at her. “I’m the lucky one.”

⸻

UConn practice, Sunday morning. Coach hasn’t even walked in yet, and the team is already stretching, half-awake, shoes only half-laced. It’s quiet until Paige walks in.

Azzi’s trailing behind her, as always, but today there’s a very specific look in her eyes. It’s the “I told them everything” look.

Paige doesn’t notice. She jogs in with her usual no-sleep-no-problem swagger, hair tied up, hoodie sleeves shoved to her elbows. She barely sets her water bottle down before…

“Oh hey, Paige,” KK calls, loud and obvious. “How are your arms feeling today?”

Paige blinks. “My arms?”

“Yeah, after carrying an entire grown woman across a parking lot last night.”

Azzi breaks immediately, hiding behind a towel.

Paige turns slowly toward her. “You told them?”

“I said one thing,” Azzi mumbles from behind the towel.

“One thing?” Caroline grins. “Girl, you gave us a thesis.”

“We know about the grapes,” Ice adds. “The microwaved hoodie. The shoelace situation.”

Ash fakes a swoon. “She carries you with the door elbow bump. I literally can’t even open my Gatorade without losing a nail.”

Paige stands there, eyes narrowing like she’s deciding who to block in practice first.

“Y’all are being dramatic,” she mutters.

“No we’re not,” Caroline says. “We’re being observant.”

“She doesn’t walk, Paige!” KK shouts, already laughing.

“Okay, but why should she walk?” Paige shoots back, deadpan. “She’s perfect.”

The gym goes silent.

Caroline turns to Ice. “Did she just…?”

“She just dropped that like it was normal,” Ice whispers.

Paige shrugs, tossing a ball lazily between her hands. “If I can carry her, why wouldn’t I? Y’all just jealous.”

“Damn right we are,” Ice says. “I limp and suffer in silence.”

Jana raises an eyebrow. “Would you carry any of us if our feet hurt?”

Paige doesn’t even blink. “No.”

“That was fast,” KK says.

“She wouldn’t even open my water bottle,” Ice adds.

“You shouldn’t need help,” Paige shrugs.

“But Azzi does?” Caroline teases.

Paige tosses the ball at her lightly. “Azzi gets help. Not the same.”

Azzi finally peeks out from behind her towel, smiling helplessly.

Caroline rolls her eyes. “You’re so whipped.”

“I’m not whipped,” Paige says, walking to Azzi like it’s automatic. “I’m just obsessed with her. Totally different.”

Azzi beams. Everyone else groans.

Coach finally walks in, blowing his whistle.

“Save the flirting for after sprints!” He yells.

“Yes, Coach!” they all echo.

But as they start warming up, Azzi’s still grinning, and Paige casually offers her a drink without her even asking. The rest of the team watches it happen like they’re seeing the northern lights.

“Grapes next,” Ice mutters.

“Pretty sure she’s already got them in the locker room,” Caroline says.

And they do. In a little Tupperware, halved.

Because Paige Bueckers may not talk about her feelings much. But everyone on the team knows one thing now: she doesn’t just love Azzi.

She lives to make her life easier.

And apparently, that includes never letting her feet touch the ground.

[salty-autistic-writer]

Buck has something to say. (Or: an alternative take on that kitchen scene)

“I think you should leave.”

The words cut into the cold, tense air in the kitchen like a knife.

They take Buck's breath away for a stunned, heart-stuttering moment. Did that just come out of his mouth?

Eddie finally looks at him, finally sees him. “What?” He asks, baffled.

“I want you to leave,” Buck repeats. And yes. He does. He’s tired of this. Tired in general. Enough.

Eddie blinks, his lips slightly parted. He exhales a disbelieving scoff, throwing his hands in the air. “Really? We are doing this now? Now, when we are both grieving? Seriously, Buck …”

“How dare you?” Buck hisses, curling a hand into a fist. “How dare you suggest I didn’t do what I could. That I didn’t do enough to, to save Bobby?”

“Buck,” Eddie starts.

No.

Buck raises his hand. “Now you listen. You listen to me. I watched him die, Eddie. I watched Bobby die. I saw death on his face, in his eyes. I was there. And I was alone. Bobby knew he was going to die, and he sent me away. He … He said I’m going to be fine. But I’m not. I’m not fine. And that’s okay. Because I just lost one of the most important people in my life. Bobby was the father I never had.”

Eddie sneers. “Bobby was your Captain. Our Captain. We all lost him! You don’t get to claim him! We all have to live without him, move on with our lives. But you don’t see any of us behaving like a child throwing a tantrum!”

Buck crosses his arms over his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. “I’m not a child, Eddie. I’m an adult, and I have enough of you telling me how I’m supposed to feel. These last few days, I’ve been thinking about the 118 all the time. About how to fix everything. Because everything feels so cold without Bobby. Everything feels broken.” 

He stops, swallowing heavily. There are so many emotions bubbling up inside of him. And now he can’t stop. He has to let it out.

“You are my best friend, Eddie. I thought friends are supposed to be there for each other. I thought a friend would be able to offer some kind of comfort. But I guess you’ve been too busy with your own grief. Look. I’m sorry you had to wake up at night and hear about this over the phone. But that’s not my fault. And it’s not my fault that you had to tell Chris either. It’s also not my fault that Bobby died. I didn’t want any of this to happen. And every day, I wish I could go back in time to change things.

I’m not okay. And you should know. But here you are, telling me I might not have done enough. You of all people should know. You should know what Bobby meant to me. But it starts to feel like you don’t know me at all. I’m not that great at communicating my feelings or, or my needs. But I’m working on it. And what I can tell you right now is that I’m tired of this, Eddie. I’m tired of being blamed and being told I’m making everything about me, when actually, my stomach, chest, and head hurt every day when I think about everyone else and how sad they are. That includes you, by the way. But I guess, in some way, I lost you too. Now, leave. I want you to leave.”

Buck stops, breathing heavily. It’s been a long time since he talked so much. Maybe he never did. But he needed this. Needed to get this weight off his heart.

The rage inside him is loud. But the sad and aching part of him hopes that Eddie will say No, I won’t leave. Hopes that he will stay. That he will say, it’s okay, we can solve this problem. We can talk. We can comfort each other. We can work on fixing this.

He looks at Eddie, and inside, he’s yelling. Say something.

But Eddie only stares at him, his brows furrowed and his jaw tense. Finally, he nods curtly and says, “Alright. Alright, Buck.”

He storms out of the kitchen. Buck can hear him pack his bag. His stomach sinks. So. That’s it then. There’s nothing left to fight for, it seems.

His heart pounding, Buck waits in the silence until he hears Eddie walk out and slam the door.

He winces, wrapping his arms around himself, breathing heavily. He feels so cold. And alone. Tears are burning in his eyes.

God. Everything is so broken.

Buck wipes at his eyes with the back of his head, sniffs, and reaches for his phone with a shaky hand. He hesitates. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe it’s selfish. But … he needs. He needs a little bit of warmth.

Hey. Can you come over? Only if you have time. I really need to talk to someone.

He sends the text after staring at it for a few long minutes and tries to ignore the voice in his head calling him pathetic.

* Buck opens the door and Tommy smiles at him, “Hey - What’s going on?”

Too much.

Almost instantly, the smile fades and Tommy’s brows furrow as his eyes flicker over Buck���s face, down to where he’s nervously fidgeting with his fingers.

“Evan. Are you okay?”

No.

Buck just shakes his head. He talked so much. Now, he doesn’t have any more words left. He’s empty. 

Ashamed, he lowers his head. Avoids prying eyes. He shouldn’t be like this. He’s an adult. Maybe Eddie is right. Maybe he is nothing but a child throwing a tantrum, making everything about himself …

“Come here,” Tommy says softly.

Buck looks up, seeing Tommy opening his arms. He exhales shakily and falls forward into the embrace. Sinks into it. Into the warmth. He closes his eyes and allows himself to feel safe for a moment.

Everything is broken, but this feels like a shell he can hide in. At least for the moment.

(AO3 Link)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Ava: you okay?

you: no not really, but i'll be okay sooner or later.

yelena: *to John and Alexei* they're bullshiting, we need to bring out the big guns, bring out Bob!

*john and Alexei carried Bob out of his room and put him in front of you as he nervously fiddled with his sweater paws*

bob: i heard you're not feeling okay.

you: you shouldn't worry about me sweetheart, i'll be fine in due time.

bob: i want to help you get better, i don't like you being alone when you're like this becuase you've done the same with me when im down. so let me be the shoulder you lean on now okay?

you: can i have a hug?

bob: *smiles as he scoops you into his arms, rubbing up and down your back with his large, soothing hands* already way ahead of you.

you: *holding onto him tightly, gripping the back of his sweater as you burrowed your face into his chest to listen to his heart.* thank you honey.

Alexei: Thunderbolts hug! *grabs Yelena, Ava and John and drags them over to you and Bob so he could hug you all at once*

john: i can't breath.

ava: pretty sure i heard something crack, whatever it was or is i hope it's john's.

Yelena: or it could be the packet of crisps i had in my pocket.

you: *smiling softly* i love this group.

bob: *kisses your forehead* me too.

john: seriously guys i can't breathe-

[im-sleepdeprived]

can you do one where peter gets hurt a little bit and gets all whiny and crap and the reader is trying so hard to stay focused. LOVE YOUR STORIES BRO!!!!!

I LOVE THIS IDEA !!! it’s definitely such a peter thing to do. here’s a short, cutesy little thing, i hope you like it and im sorry it took me so long to get back to you💞✨ !! warnings are just peter being a big whiny baby whose desperate for affection, small mentions of injuries, 1,3k wc <333

“Ow!”

“Peter, be quiet! Stop whining, I’m almost done.”

“I’m in pain, baby,” he whined. 

It hadn’t been a surprise to be disturbed by a knock on your window, Peter usually stopped by after patrol which was why you’d started leaving it open for him. But when he hadn’t slid the window open after those few soft taps, you’d gotten a little worried. 

So you’d gotten out of bed to open for him, only to find your boyfriend perched before you, mask off, pouting heavily at you. 

Of course, you’d helped him in and gotten him laying across your bed so you could start to clean him up. You’d started keeping a first-aid-kit at hand since you’d found out he was Spider-Man. It had been of great use. 

But it hadn’t taken you long to realize that his wounds, as far as his usual patrol wounds went, weren’t bad. Not at all. In fact, you were positive that he could’ve gone home, slept the rest of the night, and woken up good as new as if nothing had happened in the first place. Maybe your boyfriend had forgotten that he had super-healing abilities. 

Or maybe he just liked the way you babied him.

“Oh, are you now?” You asked, glancing up at him with a raised brow. There was really nothing for you to do other than wipe the few cuts and scratches with antiseptic and place small bandaids over them. He just enjoyed pestering you.

“Yes,” he said so seriously, you almost laughed. This Peter was a stark contrast to actually-injured-Peter, who would do everything he could to assure you he was fine when he was literally bleeding out before your eyes. You didn’t like that. At least this was funny. 

“Petey, baby,” you laughed softly, adjusting a small bandaid on the high of his cheekbone where he’d had a small scrape. “You’re actually pretty put together tonight. Must’ve been a pretty quiet night, hm?”

“No,” he sighed dramatically, grabbing the wrist by his face gently, keeping you close to him. “No, it was horrible sweetheart, I’m gonna need extra care tonight. You know, to help the trauma.”

Shaking with laughter, you leaned in and pecked his cheek, right beside the cut you’d just bandaged. “The ‘trauma’, Petey? Really?”

A large, dopey grin broke over his face as you pecked his cheek and he squeezed you wrist a little. “There. That’s perfect, such a big help sweetheart, you have no idea what you do for me. You make the pain bearable, pretty girl.” 

You rolled your eyes affectionately, pressing another kiss to his cheek. “There, all better?” You asked him as you pulled away where you were met with a scowl.

“Y/N, honey, I’m suffering! I’m knocking on death’s door, angel! Give me something!”

You absolutely lost it at that, falling back onto the bed in a fit of giggles. “I can’t help you when all you do is whine!” When you opened your eyes, Peter was hovering over you, trying to keep his little facade of being upset and in pain, which was fruitless with the large smile blooming on his lips.

“You’re so mean, you know that?”

“Oh really? I’m the mean one?”

“Yes! You just found out your boyfriend, the love of your life, your future husband, the father of your future children—”

“What?!”

“—is dying, and what do you do? You laugh!!”

Another laugh escaped you, this time the sound infecting Peter as well. “I-if you’re dying, doesn’t that mean you won’t be my husband or the ‘father of my future children?” You manage out between laughs.

Peter gasped offendedly. “I…I…” he tried to defend himself to no avail. You’d caught him. 

You laughed even harder. “It’s okay, Petey. I’ll tell my future children all about you.”

He didn’t seem to like that very much. In one swift motion, his hands were on your hips, picking you up as he laid back on the bed again, his back pressed against the headboard before he plopped you down onto his lap.

“Oh hi,” you grinned at him, loosely looping your arms over his shoulders, his own hands coming to rest on your waist.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured, his eyes soft and loving as he looked up at you.

Leaning down, you pressed your forehead against his. Peter’s hands tightened on your waist, tugging you closer till your chest was pressed against his. 

“I have another wound you haven’t patched up for me yet.” He spoke softly. 

“Yeah?” You asked, fully expecting him to be playing a bit, the smile already starting to tug at the corners of your lips. “Where, sweetie?”

He smiled right back at you, sticking his hand between where your chests were pressed together and pressing on the spider emblem on the center of his suit, making the fabric deflate with a soft breath and flood around him.

Pushing the suit away for him, you noticed a scratch on his chest you hadn’t realized was there before, making you frown. It wasn’t deep and it wasn’t bleeding, but it was long and a harsh shade of red, the skin around it tinged pink with irritation, and it definitely could’ve used a cleaning. 

“Petey, baby, why didn’t you show me this before?” You asked softly, shifting in his lap as you leaned over to grab the kit again. 

Peter sighed, biting back a smile. This was exactly what he’d needed, that soft, gentle voice of yours you used on him whenever he stopped by bruised and banged up. “Why, you think it’s bad sweetheart?”

“No, no, thank god…” you muttered as you got to work on the scratch. “But I bet it burns. Does it hurt, honey?”

“Yeah,” he answered, letting out a soft groan for show as he leaned further back against your headboard. One of his hands left your waist and found it’s way to your hair, playing with the strands and giving one a gentle tug every now and them. 

“Peter,” you grumble, refusing to look up at him.

“Your hair is so soft.” He murmured in awe, as if he’d never seen anything like it before. 

“Genetics.” You deadpanned. “Now stop distracting me, I’m trying to help you!”

“You are helping me, pretty girl. Just watching that gorgeous face while you bandage me up is doing half the healing already.” Another tug to your hair. 

You swatted his hand away before poking his side with a soft smile. “No bandages for this one, sorry Pete. I’m just gonna have to heal you with kisses.”

“That sounds great,” he beamed widely. “Your kisses make me heal way faster than bandages, trust me, I speak from experience.”

Ignoring him, you leaned down and peppered a few soft kisses along his chest, staying beside the cut but never kissing the wound itself. You could feel his breathing stutter, the rhythmic movements of his chest turning irregular beneath your lips. 

Peter hands on your waist tightened, his grip pushing you down on his lap. “Baby…” his voice was a soft, desperate thing, a deepness in his tone that made your stomach flip. Well that wasn’t right. 

You sat back up, picking up a leg to swing over and slide off his lap but his hands on your waist slid down to your thighs quickly, stopping you.

“What’re you doing, pretty girl?” The utter betrayal on his face almost had you second-guessing what you’d done for something way worse. “Why’d you stop?”

“You’re hurt, Petey,” you answered simply, “we’re not doing anything tonight.”

“W-what? I’m not hurt, no, I’m fine! I’m perfect!”

“Really? I thought you were at death’s door.”

“Oh that…Yeah, no, he sent me away. Said it wasn’t my time.”

“Right, of course,” you murmured, nodding your head with all seriousness.

“Your kisses were working,” he stated sincerely, “you have to keep going!”

“Whatever you say, handsome.” You smiled, leaning in to press your lips to his. 

[missust3l3vision]

I'm going to preface this by saying I am Canadian so I call it Soccer sometimes.

Smooth As Soccer

Description: George hits Y/n with a football and as he makes sure she's okay...he notices how pretty she is.

It wasn't everyday that Y/n had the chance to go to the park and read her book. Probably closer to every two weeks, but when she got the chance she took it.

Sitting under a particularly comfortable tree with her book in her lap she could breathe easier. The noises around her blending into white noise as she was fully immersed.

That was until a soccer ball hit her face.

Square in the nose, the pain came after the confusion. A pulsating sting surged through her face as her hands came up to her nose.

If she hadn't been so disoriented she would have noticed how quickly he got to her. Almost as if he had kicked it this direction and kept going.

"Oh my fucking god I am so sorry!" George ran to her, kneeling down to get a better look at the damage he had inflicted.

"Should I call an ambulance?" A voice from over his shoulder called, she was too focused on the pain to respond.

"I Don't think I broke anything he shouted back" his voice shaky

"Yeah no- I don't need one" you said, bringing your hands down seeing no blood. The man infront of you took your chin between his fingers and took a good look at you.

In any other scenario you'd be dying of embarrassment at the touch of a stranger, but again you were focused on other things.

"Its swelling a lot, I am so sorry" he said letting go of your chin "Is there anyway I can make it up to you? Like anything?"

His guilt was weighing on him like a tonne of bricks. Not only had he hurt you but he had done it in a way where you may seriously hate him.

Y/n shook her head, finally getting a good look of the man her cheeks became warm. His soft brown curls moved with him as he tilted his head

"No, no I'll be okay" she stood up reaching for her book "Uh yeah" George found her newfound awkwardness cute, standing up as well he was quite a bit taller catching them both off guard.

He noticed the book she dropped, it had been one of his favourites. Another reason to like her he thought. He wanted to tell her but knew it probably wasn't the best time. Instead he introduced himself.

"I'm George" he said his a hand going to the back of his neck.

"I'm Y/n" she heard more noises coming from behind him, glancing she saw more men all waiting for their friend to return with the ball. One of the guys waving when he saw her.

As she was looking past, George's heart began beating fast. She was really pretty up close. Her hair was styled perfectly for her face, and her eyes were so bright.

He felt creepy staring at her like this, but he couldn't help himself. When she did turn back she didn't catch him

"I don't want to keep you from your game" she said giving him a small smile. It was hard to not notice how handsome he was, but wow did her face hurt

"Well maybe I can see you again? As an apology I mean" he suggested shyly, pulling out his phone "or like just to hang out?" She giggled at his sudden insecurity

"I'd like that, here's my number" She took the outstretched phone and put in her information.

Now, a few weeks later Y/n stood in a line with her new boyfriend and all his friends. Playing soccer was something they all really enjoyed, and she had been roped into coming.

"George, you hit another girl while we're here you can walk home" you jokingly warn. Of course it later came out that he had purposefully hit you to try and get your attention, though he wasn't expecting to hit you so hard.

"Pssh, you say that like he hadn't tried to get your attention plenty of times before" Chris jokes being met with a pink George and a confused Y/n.

"Wait...had you tried to get my attention before?" George looked away, nudging the soccer ball with his foot "God you're not smooth"

"But look at us now! No need to dwell on the past" he said loudly, earning eye rolls from his friends "Y/n is on my team" he directed as the group split in half.

Y/n could see her favourite tree from where she stood on the field. A direct line of sight to it. If she had looked up even once from her book she would have seen him.

With that she let out a small laugh.

[brinasheqrt]

Supportive things

pairings - sabrina carpenter x masc!reader

warnings - none, light kissing only.

wc - 1.1k

You walk into the nail salon with her, hand tucked casually into your jacket pocket while Sabrina links her arm through yours like you’re her human security blanket. She’s dressed in this oversized sweater and tiny skirt combo that should be illegal, and you? You’re in cargos and a black tank, the sleeves of your hoodie half-pushed up your forearms. The contrast isn’t lost on anyone. Especially not the front desk girl who eyes the two of you like you’re an oddly attractive, confusingly fashionable couple. (She’s not wrong.)

“I have a 3PM with Yuna,” Sabrina tells her sweetly, and you don’t say a word, just nod and follow her to the little corner where her favorite tech always sets up.

As soon as she’s seated, she throws her purse in your lap. “Hold this, please,” she says, all innocent like she didn’t just hand you a glittery, gold-chained micro bag that couldn’t fit a phone if it tried.

“Do I look like your assistant?” you tease, flipping it open and closing it again just to mess with her.

“You look hot and obedient. Be both.”

You snort but settle into the chair next to hers, manspreading a little just to lean into the whole masc-girlfriend energy. It works. She peeks at you from the corner of her eye, smirking.

Yuna starts working on her cuticles and you zone out for a bit, letting the quiet buzz of the salon settle over you. You scroll through your phone, answer a couple texts, and glance up every few seconds just to watch the way Sabrina talks with her hands—even when they’re being buffed and shaped.

Twenty minutes in, she turns to you with the most dramatic sigh.

“Baby.”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to take pics of my nails when they’re done. Good ones. Like, Instagram-worthy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You mean, like, professional lighting and different angles?”

“Exactly. You’re my photographer now.” She grins. “You get paid in kisses.”

You pretend to think about it. “Hm. I’ll allow it.”

When the nail art starts, you get up and come closer, watching as Yuna paints tiny daisies onto Sabrina’s pale pink acrylics. She’s so focused, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth just slightly. You resist the urge to lean down and kiss her cheek.

Once they’re done, Sabrina holds her hands up in front of her face like she’s posing for a Vogue beauty shoot. “How cute are these?” she beams, turning her hands slowly. “Okay, camera ready?”

You already have your phone out, switching it to portrait mode. You guide her toward a part of the wall with better lighting, gently taking her wrists and posing her hands just right.

“Stop laughing,” you mumble when she giggles at how seriously you’re taking this. “You wanted good pictures.”

“You’re so hot when you’re bossy,” she whispers, smirking at you from beneath her lashes.

You cough. “Focus, Carpenter.”

You take like fifteen shots—some with flash, some without—making sure to get her rings in frame and the tiny daisy detail. Then you crouch down and get a few artsy angles from below because, well, you’re in this now.

When you show her the pics, she gasps. “Wait. These are actually amazing. You understood the assignment.”

You smirk, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “Told you I was worth the kisses.”

And she doesn’t even hesitate—grabs your hoodie, pulls you in, and presses a quick, soft kiss to your lips right there in the middle of the salon.

Yuna pretends not to see.

You definitely don’t pretend not to smile.

As you’re leaving, Sabrina’s scrolling through the pics, already adding them to her Instagram draft. You open the door for her, hand still on the small of her back.

She hums. “Caption ideas?”

You think for a second. “Something like… ‘flowers on my fingers, a simp behind the camera.’”

She nearly trips laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

She glances up at you, all soft and smug. “Yeah. I do.”

[meadematales]

~Alfie's 2nd Birthday~

Moments on Our Path - One Shot - ➡️Masterlist

--March 6, 2023--

Beth was dreaming about nothing in particular when the baby monitor crackled to life.

“Roffie’s hungry!”

A pause.

“Now, Mommy. Now!”

Beth groaned softly and flopped an arm across her face. The clock beside her bed blinked 5:43 AM. Of course. No lie-ins when you have a newly minted two-year-old — and a stuffed elephant with a strict breakfast schedule. Why sleep in on your birthday when you could wake the house before sunrise?

She pushed herself upright and reached for her dressing gown. “Coming, birthday boy,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes as she shuffled down the hallway.

Alfie’s door was slightly ajar — it always was. Inside, he was standing up in his bed, bouncing slightly on his heels, his stuffed elephant clutched under one arm. His curls were a sleep-tangled halo around his head. His grin stretched from cheek to cheek.

As soon as Alfie saw her, his whole face lit up. “Mommyyy!”

Beth’s heart clenched in that familiar, achy way it always did when he smiled like that. She crossed the room quickly, arms already outstretched. “Come here, monkey.”

He launched himself into her arms before she even had a chance to lift him, wrapping both chubby arms around her neck with surprising strength. Beth held him tightly, burying her face in his warm curls. His little arms squeezed back just as hard.

“Happy birthday, Alf,” she murmured into his hair. “Two already. How did that happen?”

“Roffie too,” he whispered, voice muffled against her shoulder.

Beth chuckled. “Oh, is it his birthday too?”

He nodded into her neck. “He wants toast.”

Beth chuckled. “Roffie wants toast? Anything else?”

Alfie nodded. “Cake.”

“Of course he does,” she muttered.

She leaned back just enough to look at him properly. His cheeks were squishy with sleep, and his eyelashes still stuck together in places. Perfect, she thought. Completely, ridiculously perfect.

She kissed his cheek and carried him over to the changing table. “But first… I think someone has a rather full nappy.”

“Nooo,” Alfie giggled, already squirming. “It’s Roffie.”

Beth raised an eyebrow. “Roffie does not wear nappies.”

Alfie gave her a mischievous look. “He has birthday poo.”

Beth tried not to laugh as she laid him down. “Well then, happy birthday to both of you.”

She worked quickly, humming softly as she wiped and changed him. Alfie wriggled but didn’t protest much — he was too busy chattering to Roffie about toast and cake.

When she was done, she lifted him off the table and reached for the pile of clothes she’d laid out the night before: Grey jeans, a T-shirt with a smiling sun, and his favourite green hoodie.

“Time to get dressed, mister.”

“No,” he said. “Roffie first.”

“Roffie doesn’t have trousers,” Beth pointed out.

Alfie considered that. “He can wear sock.”

“Okay,” Beth said, amused. “Let’s start with your socks, yeah?”

She held up a matching pair, but Alfie reached down into the laundry basket, pulled out one penguin sock and one glittery star sock, and handed them to her proudly.

“Roffie choose.”

Beth smiled. “He’s got a real eye for fashion.”

As she dressed him, Alfie lifted his arms obligingly and then flopped dramatically when it came time for the hoodie. “Too big!”

“It’s the same one you wore yesterday,” Beth said, tugging it gently over his curls.

“Still big.”

Beth finally got it on and kissed the top of his head. “There. Perfect. Now we’re ready for toast.”

She gave him another good squeeze before shifting him onto her hip.

“Toast,” Alfie said seriously. “And cake.”

Beth gave him a faux stern look. “No cake before lunch.”

“Sniff it?”

“Fine. Sniffing only.”

He leaned his head against her shoulder as they made their way downstairs, mismatched socks bouncing with each step and Roffie tucked under his arm.

In the kitchen, everything was quiet. Beth switched on the kettle and began gathering what she needed one-handed while Alfie watched from her hip like a sleepy king.

“Vivi coming?” he asked, voice small.

Beth smiled. “She is. With balloons and cake.”

“Roffie likes Vivi.”

“So do I,” Beth murmured, brushing a kiss across his hairline.

As the kettle hummed quietly on the counter, Beth set Alfie down in his high chair, securing him with a soft click. She slid a plate in front of him and began spreading butter on toast, her thoughts drifting to the day ahead. There was something so comforting about these little rituals. The quiet before the storm of a two-year-old’s birthday party.

The doorbell rang.

Alfie’s head shot up at the sound, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Vivi!”

Beth rolled her eyes with a playful grin as she wiped her hands on a towel. "Of course she’s early," she muttered to herself, looking at the clock — 6:45 AM. “It’s barely past dawn…”

She opened the door to find Viv standing there, not at all apologetic, beaming, a large box with "Happy Birthday" written in swirly letters in her arms, and a bunch of colourful balloons tied to one wrist.

“Hey, you,” Beth said, her voice soft but laced with mock disbelief. “You’re really early. It’s only quarter to seven.”

Viv grinned unapologetically. “I figured Alfie would be up early — he’s a birthday boy, after all. I wasn’t about to miss it.”

Beth shook her head, half-amused, half-exasperated. “Well, you’re definitely right about him being up early. Still, no need to rush in this much.”

Viv just shrugged with a wink. “Time’s just a suggestion, right?”

Beth laughed, then leaned forward and pressed a quick, warm kiss to Viv’s lips. “Apparently so.”

Viv smiled against her mouth. “Morning to you too.”

With a playful roll of her eyes, Beth stepped aside to let Viv in. “You’re lucky you’ve got cake.”

As Viv entered, Alfie’s eyes immediately locked onto the balloons. “Vivi!” he exclaimed, his voice high with excitement as he scrambled out of his high chair to meet her.

“Happy birthday, birthday boy!” Viv said, bending down to greet him with a hug. Alfie, always quick to act, immediately reached for the balloons.

“Cake?” he asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

“You bet!” Viv said, holding up the box triumphantly. “And there’s plenty to share.”

Alfie nodded solemnly, then turned back to Beth with a serious expression. “Roffie want cake.”

Beth raised an eyebrow, trying to hide her smile. “I’m sure Roffie will get his share. But we won’t eat cake until after lunch.”

Alfie resumed eating his toast, chattering about cake, while Viv sat down into an seat at the kitchen table.

Viv reached over and plucked one of the balloons from the bunch, offering it to Alfie with a grand flourish. “This one’s for you, mister.”

Alfie gasped as though he’d been handed the crown jewels. “Me?”

“All yours,” Viv said, tying the ribbon carefully to the back of his high chair. “Birthday balloon for the birthday boy.”

“And Roffie,” he added gravely, adjusting the elephant on his lap so it could see the balloon properly.

“Of course,” Viv nodded solemnly. “Wouldn’t dream of forgetting him.”

Beth placed a mug of tea in front of Viv and slid into the seat beside her, nudging her gently with her knee under the table. “Thanks for doing this, and coming so early,” she said, quieter now, just for her.

Viv looked over at her, eyes warm and a little amused. “You’re thanking me for crashing your kitchen at sunrise with a box full of sugar?”

Beth smiled softly. “I’m thanking you for wanting to, for doing this for Alfie.”

Viv reached for Beth’s hand under the table, gave it a quick squeeze. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Beth glanced at her, lips twitching into a smile she couldn’t quite suppress.

Alfie let out a loud “Toast all done!” and raised both sticky hands in the air. “Cake now?”

Beth laughed. “Nice try. But no cake until after lunch, remember?”

Alfie deflated like a balloon, slumping forward against Roffie. “Roffie sad.”

Viv leaned in conspiratorially. “Maybe Roffie can help us make a little birthday plan?”

That perked him right up. “Plan?”

Beth grinned. “I was thinking… finishing breakfast, then we play a bit with and have a cuddle, and then maybe get ready for training? You can come with us today!”

Alfie clapped his hands. “Ball!”

“Ball,” Viv confirmed. “And there might be a few people who want to see the birthday boy in action.”

He nodded solemnly, as if accepting an official mission. “Me run fast.”

Beth leaned back, smiling, sipping her tea, watching Viv and Alfie plot out their imaginary football drills with increasing enthusiasm.

It was going to be a good day.

----

The sun was just beginning to warm the pitch as Beth and Viv arrived at training. Alfie bundled between them in his green hoodie and a little hat with bear ears. Roffie, naturally, had pride of place tucked under one arm. The birthday boy had insisted. Beth carried his little football, and Viv took care of the cake.

“Okay, champ,” Viv said as she crouched down beside him, adjusting his hat. “Remember, you’re our number one cheerleader today.”

Alfie grinned. “I go in too.”

“Later,” Beth laughed. “We’ve got to warm up first. No one wants a pulled hamstring on your birthday.”

Their teammates were already milling about, chatting, stretching, sipping coffee from takeaway cups. As soon as they spotted Alfie, several of them brightened.

“Oi, is that the birthday boy?” called Vic, waving from the far sideline.

Alfie lit up. “That’s Vic!” he said, like Beth and Viv didn’t know.

Vic jogged over, crouching to Alfie’s level. “Heard you turned two today. That’s a big number.”

Alfie held up all five fingers. “This many.”

“Close enough,” Vic said with a wink.

Kyra appeared with a helium balloon shaped like a football. “For the man of the hour,” she said, tying it carefully to Alfie’s wrist.

Alfie gasped in delight. “It flies!”

Another chorus of teammates gathered, forming a small crowd around Alfie. Katie had smuggled a party hat onto his head. Beth gave Viv a look across the huddle: You had something to do with this, didn’t you? Viv just grinned innocently.

And then it began — loud, out-of-sync, and entirely off-key: “Happy birthday to youuuu…”

Alfie stared, wide-eyed, as the entire team bellowed their way through the song. Roffie got a verse too, thanks to Laia loudly adding, “Happy birthday dear Roffieeeee!”

At the end, the team cheered like they’d won a cup final, and Alfie clapped along, utterly delighted.

“Alright,” Beth said, scooping him up, “We’ve got to get to work. You sit here and be our coach, yeah?”

She settled him on a picnic blanket near the bench with a water bottle, Roffie, and a small snack tin of sliced apples. Viv gave him a mock salute before jogging off after Beth.

The team got into drills, running sprints, passing drills, short scrimmages — with Alfie shouting encouragement the entire time.

“Go, Vivi, go!” “Faster, Mommy!” “NO FALL DOWN!”

Halfway through, Lotte jogged by and offered him a high-five. “Think we should recruit him for next season,” she said, grinning.

Viv glanced over at him mid-play, caught his eye, and winked. He blew her a kiss.

When training began to wind down, Beth jogged over to where he sat. “Alright, little coach. Want to join in?”

Alfie was on his feet before she finished the sentence, clutching his little ball.

Viv came to meet them at the edge of the pitch, holding out a hand. “One goal, yeah? Big birthday goal?”

He nodded solemnly, then darted onto the field, his tiny legs moving fast and determined. Roffie sat safely on the sidelines, watching from the blanket.

The team cleared space for him — a whole pitch of professional players parting like the sea for one tiny boy in mismatched socks.

Beth rolled the ball gently toward him. “Go on, Alfie!”

Alfie ran at it, little arms flailing, and gave it a determined nudge with his foot. It rolled, wobbled, and trickled toward the goal. Viv theatrically dove out of the way, letting it roll past her into the net.

“GOOOOAAAL!” shouted everyone at once.

Alfie threw his arms in the air. “I DID IT!”

Beth scooped him up and spun him around while the team applauded like he’d won the World Cup. Viv ruffled his curls, beaming. “You’re a natural.”

“Again?” Alfie asked hopefully.

“Tomorrow,” Beth said, kissing his cheek. “Today, we celebrate the champion.”

“And maybe,” Viv added, draping an arm around Beth’s shoulders, “we all get cake.”

Vic pumped a fist. “Birthday cake in the locker room?”

Beth shook her head with a smile. “Nope — proper celebration in the canteen. Plates, napkins, the works.”

“Thank God,” said Kyra. “I don’t trust any cake that’s seen the inside of our locker room.”

Viv chuckled, adjusting Alfie on her hip as he yawned against her shoulder. “Don’t worry, birthday boy. We’ve got your favourite — chocolate with stars on top.”

Alfie’s head shot up again. “Stars?!”

“Stars,” Beth confirmed. “And two candles. One for you, one for Roffie.”

As the group strolled off the pitch toward the clubhouse, teammates clustered around Alfie, peppering him with questions about his goal, his age, and whether Roffie preferred chocolate or vanilla. Alfie answered each with great seriousness, cheeks still flushed from his “match.”

In the canteen, someone had already set up a corner with paper bunting and a modest stack of wrapped presents. The cake — a homemade one, courtesy of Viv — sat proudly in the centre of the table, and Alfie’s eyes widened in awe.

“Stars,” he whispered reverently, eyes wide at the sight of the sparkly silver sugar stars scattered across the top of the cake.

“And chocolate,” Viv added, coming up behind them with a grin. “Double chocolate. Because birthdays deserve it.”

“Roffie like chocolate,” Alfie told her solemnly.

Vic leaned over the table. “I don’t know who this Roffie guy is, but he’s clearly got great taste.”

“He’s an icon,” Beth said dryly, helping Alfie into a seat beside her.

The rest of the team gradually gathered around, a jumble of mismatched chairs scraping across the linoleum floor. Someone passed out paper cups. Leah flicked on her phone flashlight like it was a proper spotlight, and Katie produced a lighter from her jacket pocket with theatrical flair.

“Don’t ask why I carry this,” Katie said. “It’s for emergencies. Like this.”

Beth carefully inserted two striped candles into the top of the cake — one pink, one green — and lit them. Alfie gasped audibly, eyes round, little hands pressed to his cheeks.

“Okay,” Viv said, voice full of ceremony. “Everyone ready?”

“Blow them out!” Viv encouraged, leaning in beside him.

Alfie hesitated, then looked at Roffie. “You help?”

Viv solemnly held the elephant near the flames. Alfie took a deep breath — and with Viv blowing gently along with him, the candles went out.

Cheers erupted.

Viv high-fived Alfie, who giggled and held up Roffie for a high-five too. “Teamwork,” she declared.

“Alright, alright,” Beth laughed, reaching for the cake knife. “Let’s eat before someone tackles the birthday boy for a slice.”

Viv started distributing plates while Beth carefully sliced the cake. Alfie received the first piece — corner slice, heavy on frosting, with one of the sparkly stars perched right on top.

“Is Roffie sharing, or does he get his own plate?” asked Kim.

“Own,” Alfie said firmly.

Beth handed over a tiny extra plate with a crumb of cake for Roffie. “Of course he does.”

They ate and chatted, laughter rolling easily across the table. The sun streamed in through the tall canteen windows, and Alfie sat perched on Beth’s lap, licking frosting from his fingers while Roffie “ate” beside him. Viv snapped a photo of them — cheeks sticky, socks still mismatched, Beth mid-laugh — and tucked her phone away with a private smile.

Everything felt warm. Easy. Right.

As the last crumbs of cake disappeared and paper cups were refilled with juice and tea, Beth gave Viv a small nod. Viv stood up and cleared her throat dramatically, causing the team to quiet down with exaggerated anticipation.

“I believe,” Viv said, hands behind her back, “that there are still some Very Important Birthday Duties to attend to.”

Viv made her way over to the modest pile of wrapped gifts stacked under the bunting and selected the top one — a box wrapped in blue paper with silver stars, matching the cake. She handed it to Alfie with a mock-serious look. “This one’s from Leah. And yes, I made sure she didn’t wrap up anything ridiculous.”

Leah held up her hands. “That’s slander. I only do ridiculous for adults.”

Alfie eagerly tore into the paper with two hands, revealing a bright red football — his size, with tiny triangle prints printed along the panels. He gasped. “Ball!” “A real one this time,” Leah said, winking. “Not one you have to steal from training.”

Alfie beamed and hugged the ball tightly to his chest.

Next came a gift from Kim and Katie — a bright yellow raincoat printed with little frogs. “It’s water-proof, mud-proof, and probably Alfie-proof,” Kim declared proudly.

Viv crouched beside Alfie next, holding out a box. “This one’s from me.”

Alfie ripped through the wrapping with a burst of toddler energy. Inside was a set of wooden animal puzzles, each piece smooth and painted in gentle colours. There was a zebra, a lion, an elephant — and at the very bottom, a tiny plush mouse.

“Mousey,” Alfie breathed, instantly reaching for it.

“I figured Roffie needed a sidekick,” Viv said, smiling softly. “Meet Cheesie.”

“Roffie and Cheesie,” Alfie repeated, already pressing the new toy into his elephant’s arms.

Beth handed him her gift last — the biggest of the bunch, wrapped in a blanket rather than paper, with a bright green bow on top. “This one’s from me.”

Alfie pulled at the knot, the blanket falling away to reveal a small red balance bike with a shiny bell on the handlebar. His mouth fell open.

“Bike!” he shouted.

Beth nodded, clearly emotional. “For you. So you can zoom around like the wind.”

“You’ll be faster than all of us,” Viv said, grinning.

“Faster than you,” Alfie replied, already pretending to ring the bell.

Everyone cheered again, and Vic reached for her cup to raise another toast. “To Alfie, master of chaos, collector of tiny sidekicks, and future star striker.”

“To Alfie,” the team echoed, laughter and applause filling the canteen once more.

Alfie stood on his chair, Roffie under one arm and Cheesie in the other, holding the toy ball between his knees. “Best day,” he declared.

---

The car was warm and quiet, humming softly beneath them as Beth steered through the familiar streets back toward home. In the backseat, Alfie was nestled deep in his car seat, his head tilted to one side, Roffie in the crook of one arm and Cheesie clutched in the other. His eyelids fluttered once, twice — then closed for good.

Viv glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Down for the count.”

Beth let out a soft laugh. “Didn’t take long.”

“He held out longer than I thought,” Viv said, turning back to face forward. “Between the cake, the presents, the training chaos — that’s a lot for a two-year-old.”

Beth nodded, keeping her voice low. “He was buzzing. Proper adrenaline high. And now? Out like a light.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the occasional soft breath from the backseat and the faint rhythmic clicking of the turn signal. Viv reached out and rested her hand lightly on Beth’s knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Beth glanced at her and smiled. “Plans are flexible, right?”

Viv raised an eyebrow. “Flexible how?”

“Well, since he’s asleep, we might want to rethink the whole ‘playground this afternoon’ thing. Let him rest up a bit longer.”

Viv nodded, already on the same page. “You’re thinking… park later? Testing the bike? Little tapas picknick for dinner?”

Beth grinned, eyes still on the road. “Exactly. Evening picnic. Tapas. Maybe a little ride if he’s up for it.”

Viv smiled, resting her head back against the seat. “I like that better than the playground anyway. Golden hour Alfie sounds like a vibe.”

Beth chuckled. “You just want the good lighting for photos.”

“Guilty,” Viv said, not even pretending otherwise.

They pulled into the driveway slowly, the tyres crunching softly on gravel. Beth parked, cut the engine, and both women sat for a moment in the calm hush that followed.

Alfie didn’t stir.

Viv turned in her seat again, watching him. “He’s really out.”

“Car nap level: elite,” Beth said. She unbuckled her seatbelt and stretched a little. “I’ll carry him in.”

Viv was already opening her door. “I’ll get Roffie and Cheesie. They look like they’ve had a full day too.”

They moved with practiced ease, lifting Alfie carefully out of his seat without waking him. His arms hung heavy, his curls warm against Beth’s neck as she carried him inside. Viv followed close behind, the two well-loved stuffed animals tucked gently under her arm.

Inside, the house was cool and quiet. Beth brought Alfie straight upstairs, laying him down on his bed without fuss. He sighed once in his sleep, curling instinctively toward Roffie as Beth placed him beside him. Viv added Cheesie to the pile, then tugged the blanket up to Alfie’s waist.

They both lingered a second longer, watching the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest.

Beth finally straightened, brushing a hand through her hair. “So,” she said softly. “Evening picnic it is?”

Viv nodded. “I’ll prep the food if you get the blanket and candles?”

Beth smirked. “Candles?”

“For the aesthetic,” Viv whispered with a wink, pulling her out of the room by the hand.

They tiptoed down the stairs together, already falling into the rhythm of their changed plan — one that, somehow, felt even better than the original.

Downstairs, the quiet hum of the house wrapped around them like a soft blanket. Beth ducked into the hallway closet, rummaging for the picnic blanket she always kept folded next to the beach towels, while Viv padded into the kitchen and opened the fridge, surveying the supplies.

“We’ve got manchego, olives, roasted peppers, some leftover tortilla…” Viv called out.

Beth poked her head in, blanket under one arm, candles in her hand, a small smile on her lips. “I’ve got grapes and those mini breadsticks Alfie loves.”

“Ooh, and I saw those little skewers with the mozzarella balls—” Viv stopped mid-sentence, pulling a container from the fridge like she’d discovered buried treasure. “Yes.”

They moved together easily, containers clicking open, snacks arranged neatly in little Tupperware and lidded boxes. Beth cut fruit, Viv rolled up slices of ham and tucked them beside wedges of cheese. Someone put on a quiet playlist, something acoustic and summery, and by the time they were done, the sun had dipped just low enough to cast soft shadows across the living room floor.

Beth glanced at the clock. “I think we’ve got about twenty minutes before he starts stirring.”

Viv nodded. “Just enough time to sort the rest of the gifts?”

Beth laughed under her breath. “You mean the ones we didn’t get to because someone needed to test out his new bell on the bike fifteen times?”

“In his defence,” Viv said, rifling through the bag of wrapped boxes, “it is a very good bell.”

They set up the last few presents in a tote bag meant for the park: a set of chalk sticks in every colour imaginable, a pop-up picture book about animals around the world, and a collapsible bug-viewing kit that Alfie had seen once at the garden centre and pointed at with deep, serious longing.

Viv added one final box, smaller and soft. “This one’s from me,” she said.

Beth raised an eyebrow. “Another one?”

Viv shrugged, a little sheepish. “I couldn’t help it.”

“What is it?”

Viv hesitated. “It’s a cape. A superhero one. Purple, with a big silver A on the back. For Alfie.”

Beth blinked, then grinned. “You’re actually the best.”

“Well,” Viv said, mock-casual, “he is the fastest runner we know. Thought it is time to make it official.”

They paused, then both looked toward the stairs — a faint sound, like a yawn, drifting down.

“Showtime,” Beth murmured.

They padded up the stairs, the wood cool beneath their feet, and pushed open the door to Alfie’s room just wide enough to peek in.

He was sitting up sleepily, hair a riot of curls, cheeks pink with the kind of warmth only a good nap brings. Roffie was still tucked under one arm, and when he saw them, his eyes lit up, slow and soft like a sunrise.

“Hi,” he mumbled, rubbing at one eye with a tiny fist.

“Hey, birthday boy,” Beth said, voice gentle as she came to sit on the edge of the bed. “You had a good nap?”

Alfie nodded solemnly. “Dream ‘bout the bike.”

Viv grinned from where she leaned in the doorway. “Good dream?”

Alfie nodded again. “Zoom.”

Beth chuckled, brushing a hand over his curls. “Well, lucky for you — we’re going on a little evening adventure. Park picnic. Presents. Maybe some zooming too.”

Alfie blinked. “Now?”

“Soon,” Beth said. “We just need to get you dressed, and then we’ll head out.”

He perked up immediately, pushing the blanket off and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed with renewed purpose. “Where’s my bell?”

Viv laughed. “Still on the bike. Don’t worry.”

Ten minutes later, Alfie was dressed in his soft navy joggers and a hoodie with tiny dinosaurs on the sleeves. His curls had been gently tamed, and his trainers were on the wrong feet, as usual — neither Beth nor Viv corrected him. He was bouncing on the spot at the front door, pointing at the tote bag with wide eyes.

“Presents?”

“Some more,” Beth confirmed. “You’ll open them at the park.”

“Is Roffie and Cheesie coming?”

Viv held up the beloved elephant and mouse. “Wouldn’t dare leave without them.”

The evening air was mild, just on the edge of warm, and the sky was streaked with blush tones of peach and gold as they walked to the nearby park. Alfie skipped a little ahead, holding tightly to Beth’s hand while Viv carried the tote bag and the folded picnic blanket over one shoulder.

The park was quiet this time of day — a few families lingering, a dog walker or two — and their usual shady tree was still free. Beth spread the blanket out with a practiced flick, Viv laid out the food containers in a loose circle, and Alfie immediately flopped down in the middle like a king surveying his kingdom.

“Tapas time,” Beth announced.

“Capas time,” Alfie echoed, very seriously.

They ate slowly, in no rush. Alfie popped grapes into his mouth with sticky fingers, tried a mozzarella skewer (“Yummy balls,” he declared), and demanded that Roffie and Cheesie got a bite of everything.

The sun dipped lower and the shadows stretched longer. Beth finally nudged the tote bag toward him. “Alright. One last round of birthday gifts.”

One by one, the gifts were unwrapped — the chalks met with an enthusiastic “Draw BIG!” and the bug kit made him wiggle with excitement. The pop-up animal book got an immediate story request, and Viv promised to read it at bedtime.

Viv held out the last soft package.

“This one’s from me,” she said. “Special one.”

Alfie tore at the wrapping, mouth falling open as the cape unfurled in his lap — rich purple, soft and flowy, with a sparkly silver “A” sewn carefully onto the back.

“A like Alfie,” Viv said, helping him slip it on. “You’re the fastest, bravest superhero I know.”

Alfie stood up slowly, cape billowing slightly in the breeze. He looked down at himself, then at Beth and Viv — and grinned.

“Zoom now?”

Beth stood too, grabbing the little bike they’d propped against the tree. “Zoom now.”

Alfie’s eyes lit up at the sight of the bike, and he took off toward it with all the energy a two-year-old could muster. He paused just before the handlebars, glancing back at Viv and Beth with a wide grin.

“Me do it,” he declared, pointing proudly at the bike. “I can ride.”

Beth chuckled, kneeling down beside him. “You sure you’re ready for that, superhero?”

Alfie nodded earnestly, bouncing on his toes. “Ready!”

Viv stepped forward, hands on her hips, watching the scene unfold with a soft smile. “Alright then, let’s see what you’ve got, little man.”

Beth gently helped Alfie climb onto the bike, his tiny feet already finding the ground. “Okay, so we’re just going to practice scooting first, yeah? No need to rush the zooming.”

Alfie looked down at his feet, then back up at them, the intensity of his superhero focus settling over him. “I zoom now!”

With a deep breath, he pushed off, his little legs wobbling as he tried to balance, the bike tipping slightly from side to side as his cape fluttered dramatically behind him.

Beth jogged beside him, steadying the bike with one hand on the seat while Alfie concentrated fiercely. “That’s it, Alfie, nice and steady.”

Alfie grinned, leaning into the motion, his feet now in constant motion as he scooted a little faster. His bell rang with every little push. “Ding ding! I ride!”

“You’re doing great!” Viv cheered, her voice warm with pride as she clapped. “Look at you go!”

Alfie’s grin widened even more. “I’m fast!”

His little legs pumped with determination as he pushed harder, the bike picking up speed. He leaned forward, trying to mimic what he’d seen older kids do. His cape fluttered even more wildly in the breeze, adding to the feeling of triumph.

After a few more wobbly scoots, Alfie’s confidence seemed to grow. “Me faster!” he declared, giggling as he sped away from them for a few short seconds, his laughter filling the air like music.

Beth and Viv followed at a slower pace, laughing together. Viv had pulled out her phone to capture the moment, taking a few shots of Alfie zooming by, his face a mixture of concentration and pure joy.

As he slowed down, Alfie turned back to them, eyes sparkling. “You see me zoom? I did it!”

Beth crouched down to his level, her hands on his shoulders. “We saw. You were amazing.”

The evening light began to fade completely. Alfie had exhausted himself from all the bike zooming and tapas eating. He flopped down onto the picnic blanket with a contented sigh, his little legs stretched out and his cape still fluttering slightly in the cooling breeze. He rolled onto his side, his head coming to rest on Beth’s lap, his thumb already finding its way to his mouth.

Viv settled down beside them, a soft smile on her face as she brushed a few stray curls from Alfie’s forehead. “You had a big day, huh?” she murmured, her fingers gently stroking his hair.

Alfie’s response was a sleepy murmur, barely audible as his eyelids fluttered shut. “Mmm… race… race tomorrow…”

Alfie made a tiny, contented noise, snuggling closer to Beth, his small body relaxing as sleep started to claim him. The park around them had grown quieter, the chirping of crickets now the only sound breaking the silence of the evening.

Viv leaned back on the blanket, her eyes glancing up at the darkening sky, a few stars beginning to peek out. “You know, I was really looking forward to reading that book tonight,” she said with a playful grin. “The one with the pop-up animals. But I think maybe it’ll have to wait.”

Beth smiled, resting a hand on Alfie’s back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. “He’s earned his sleep. The animals can wait.”

Viv chuckled softly. “Yeah, he’s been very busy. Superhero duties, bike races, and tapas sampling. It’s hard work turning two.”

Beth laughed softly, her voice low and fond. “I’m sure he’ll be back to demanding bedtime stories before we know it.”

Viv leaned back on the blanket, stretching out beside them. “Alright, I’ll just rest my eyes for a second,” she murmured. “Tomorrow, we’re definitely tackling the book, though.”

Beth smiled down at her, reaching over to lightly touch her hand. “You’ll be the one reading it.”

Viv raised an eyebrow. “Oh, am I? And what are you going to be doing, then?”

Beth grinned. “I’ll be cheering you on. I am sure you make great pop-up animal sounds.”

Viv laughed quietly, the sound mixing with the night around them. Then, after a moment of quiet, Beth’s voice softened. “Hey, Viv.”

Viv looked over at her, waiting.

“Thank you,” Beth said quietly, her voice thick with warmth. “For making today so special. For Alfie. For all of us.”

Viv’s expression softened, her smile small but sincere. “I’m glad it was perfect for him. He’s amazing. It was all worth it.”

Beth’s hand rested lightly on Alfie’s back, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before looking back at Viv. “It was more than perfect. You made it unforgettable.”

Viv’s heart fluttered at Beth’s words, the warmth of the evening wrapping around them like a protective cocoon. She leaned in slightly, her hand brushing gently over Alfie’s back before she looked back at Beth, her eyes full of tenderness.

“It’s easy,” Viv whispered, her voice soft and steady. “When it’s for you two.”

Without another word, Beth reached out and cupped Viv’s cheek, her thumb brushing over the smooth skin. Their eyes held for a long, silent moment, the weight of the day settling comfortably between them, before Beth leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Viv’s lips.

When she pulled back, Beth lingered just inches away, her forehead resting against Viv’s for a brief moment of quiet intimacy. Viv closed her eyes, feeling the world slow around them, the sounds of the park fading into nothingness as they just existed together.

Beth exhaled softly. “Thank you, Viv... for everything.”

Viv pulled her into an embrace then, her arms wrapping around Beth with a sense of ease. “Always.” Viv murmured.

They held each other for a long moment, Alfie nestled comfortably between them.

After a while, Viv tilted her head slightly, her cheek brushing Beth’s temple as she whispered, “This—this right here—is what the candles were for.”

Beth let out a soft, breathy laugh against Viv’s shoulder. “The aesthetic?” she teased gently.

Viv smiled, her voice quiet and certain. “No. This feeling. This moment. The coziness. The love. That flickering kind of peace that makes you want to stay in it forever.”

Beth turned her head just enough to meet her eyes, something tender and steady settling between them. “I love you,” she whispered.

Viv leaned her head against Beth’s, the scent of the earth and sun-drenched grass mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. “We didn’t even need to light them,” she added. “It already feels like they’re here. Glowing all around us.”

Beth didn’t answer with words—she just held her tighter, one arm cradling Alfie, the other wrapped around Viv, and let the moment stretch as long as it would last.

[mattsgracie]

i knew you were trouble.

one minute you’re walking to your local deli literally down the block from you and the next you find yourself in the arms of some vigilante taking you up to the rooftop after being held at gunpoint. 

your eyes were closed shut even if your feet had touched the ground, your hands trembling, not from the gun, no definitely not. 

“you can open your eyes now, you know.” the voice came out muffled due to the mask they had on, and you slowly pried your eyes open. blinking a few times.

“sorry,” you said, “scared of heights.”

the vigilante just nodded, you noticed they didnt say much. you couldn't really see which vigilante had saved you this time, they blended in a little too well with the shadows behind them. 

“right,” they said, “well i’ll be on my way, and try to stay out of trouble. thats the 5th time this week i recall one or us saving you.”

you opened your mouth to defend yourself but they leaped off, not giving you a chance to defend your honor. you huffed in frustration, taking out your phone to text your best friend about your latest vigilante endeavor. 

after pocketing your phone, you did notice that for some reason the universe had it out for you. you shrugged it off as just being unlucky. now you just had to figure out how to get down from the roof of this building.

𓆩𓆪

you were a little pissed, after telling your best friend everything that had happened he bursted out into a laugh. his face was completely red like you just told him the worlds best joke and he couldn't breathe.

“it's not that funny chris.” you bit out, your face down as you toyed with your food with your fork. eventually chris had calmed down, his breath wheezy from practically laughing out his lungs, “it’s a little funny.” he said with a small grin on his lips.

you rolled your eyes, “yeah yeah, laugh it up.” you muttered. 

“no seriously, if matt was here he would've laughed too.” 

you shook your head at chris’ words, “think i’d rather be held at gunpoint again then to deal with matt.” 

chris snickered, “please. he’s not that bad.” you opened your mouth to rebuttal, that yeah, matt was that bad. the guy went from being one of your closest friends to shutting you out completely and you couldn't even tell why. 

“who’s not that bad?” 

“speak of the devil.” you said.

matt took a seat next to chris, his face etched with confusion, “you guys were talking about me?” he asked. chris nodded, “we were talking about trouble here getting in trouble, again.” 

you rolled your eyes at the nickname, “i miss nick.” you said quietly, averting your eyes away from chris and matt. you looked back down at your tray, but you could feel matts cold glare on you.

“what did you get yourself into this time?” matt asked, the kid looked already done with you and he had been here for 3 minutes. 

“okay, first of all, i didn't get myself into anything,” 

“right.”

“and second, it was just wrong place at the wrong time.”

matts brows furrowed, his lips pursed, “you say that alot.” 

“cause it’s true. it’s almost like everywhere in gotham is cursed and forbidden after 6pm.”

matt rolled his eyes, “i still think you need to be careful and stop leaving your house after 5pm.” 

you groaned into your hands, “oh my god.” you bit out. you got up from your seat, “my lunch time is over.” you said, trashing the food you barely ate and walking out of the place. 

you could take chris’ jokes, but matts? oh it was a totally different situation. there was nothing lighthearted about him, not lately. it felt like you were getting scolded by a dad more than getting helpful advice from a friend.

⚡︎

you heard a knock outside your door, pushing a button to let whoever it was in.

“i brought donuts.” chris said, placing the box of donuts onto your desk, he looked down at the numerous papers on your desk, “bruce really has you working hard, huh?”

you snorted, “it’s only marketing.” chris made a confused face before shrugging, “still don't know why he decided to make krispy kreme superhero donuts.” 

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head, “maybe he thinks the joker will eat them and forget why he wanted to break harley quinn out a prison”

“not funny.” chris muttered, his eyes slightly narrowed as he picked up a superman themed donut. 

“don't worry. your little crush on harley is still between me and you.” you joked, looking up at him briefly. “you scare me trouble, you really do.” he said under a sigh, sitting down on a chair next to you.

a few minutes of silence went past, well, mostly silence except for chris’ constant tapping of his fingers on the chair or his feet on the floor. it's like this kid had constant energy he needed to burn.

“trouble, are you hungry?” he suddenly asked, you were mid bite of a wonder woman donut, “a bit,” you said, putting the half eaten wonder woman donut back in the box. 

“great i’ll order takeout.” chris shot up out of the chair before leaving the room. you found his sudden exit a bit weird but shrugged it off, not needing to read too much into it. chris always made abrupt exits anyway. 

you were completely in your work, not noticing the time changing until chris did come back, with takeout and a few scratches on his face. “i tried to be as fast as i could but- got held up.” he said. 

“what did catwoman attack you in an alleyway?” you joked, chris deadpanned at you, “you’re the walking trouble magnet. not me.” he huffed, sitting back down next to you, you noticed a faint burning smell radiating off of him but just shrugged it off. 

“still not impossible- i heard she has it out for-” your words were cut off by chris throwing a plate and fork at your face, “just eat.” 

you laughed softly, “you really know how to make a girl speechless, sturniolo.”  “oh hardy har.” he said, sticking his tongue out in a mocking manner.

“real mature.” you looked up to see matt standing in the doorway, “security breach.” chris said, making you snort. 

matt only rolled his eyes, “i came for my food you promised me.” 

“jeez, so bossy.” 

matt narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to defend himself from the bossy allegation chris had just thrown at him but was silenced by a plate flying at him like a frisbee that he was able to catch with his reflexes, barely even blinking. “almost took out my eyes.” he bit out.

“so dramatic.” chris said with a small grin. 

you shook your head at their antics, looking back down at the different marketing strategies bruce had wanted you to take with the donuts. 

everything was good and silent until all of a sudden you heard a thwip at the window, all three of your heads shooting up to see what had caused the noise only to see a green vine spreading across your window. 

unknowingst to you matt and chris shared a vague look. “hey trouble, we actually have to go.” chris suddenly said, his eyes on what was happening right outside the building. 

you frowned slightly, “didn't realize the time?” 

chris shook his head, “nope.”

“you never do.” you huffed, before waving him out, “go.” 

matt was already out of your office, not bothering to say anything to you.

chris walked out backwards, “i’ll text you when i get home.” you snickered, shaking your head, “just go chris.” 

“don't go out!” his voice rang out through the hallway, making you laugh under your breath.

⚡︎

“well you were obvious.” chris looked over at matt, or, nightwing, he rolled his eyes.

“not too obvious, she didn't even suspect a thing.” he bit back. “that's what you think.”

“you're so grumpy, birdie.” 

“don't call me that.” 

“can't help it.” 

chris smirked, “besides not many nicknames for you. you're a bird after all.” 

chris didn't give matt anytime to quip back, zipping away leaving matt to only watch an orange blur run through the streets of gotham.

“reckless.” matt muttered under his breath, he caught a look of ivy in the sky, her burning red hair prominent against a sea of green. 

“alright red, let's get this over with.” matt said, taking out one of his blue batons.

“oh birdie!” poison ivys voice ran out, “missed you.” 

matt sighed at the nickname, “i’m gonna kill him.” he muttered under his breath. 

matt slowly stalked over to her, “i didn't miss you.” he hummed, “tell me how was arkham asylum?” he smirked, “fun?” 

matt watched as her eye twitched, “wanna find out just how fun it was?” she asked. poison ivy slowly walked over to matt, her vines following her. “no, not really.” he said. 

poison ivy only hummed in response before lunging at him, matt was able to hold off her vines for a short amount of time, grunting when he was completely restrained. she was completely in his space and face, “i’d love to unmask you,” she said, her vines wrapping around the edges of matts thin black mask around his eyes, “but unfortunately, we have a common enemy.” she said before letting him go. 

to say matt was shocked was an understatement, “um. what?” he asked, “you’re cute when you're clueless.” she simply said, with a swift wave of her hands all her vines were undone, gotham city being cleaned out. 

chris had zipped back to matt after freezing any civilian in her path, only to find he didn't have to. he looked between matt and ivy and seeing as they weren't fighting he huffed, “what'd i miss?”

𓆩𓆪

back at the batcave chris was completely confused, “so- ivy wants our help to kill the joker?” he asked matt, who was currently wrapping up his arm that had gotten cut by a stray vine. “yes.” he muttered.

“so the whole attack on gotham-”

“was a stunt to get our attention.” matt finished chris’ sentence. 

chris rolled his eyes, “ugh i did all that running for what? i even went downtown.” 

“we were downtown.”

“even more downtown.” 

matt snickered, “at least we don't have to worry about her right now, she said she'd be out of our hair.” 

“yeah, for right now.” chris quipped. chris sat back in his chair, spinning in it as he pulled out his phone. he looked at the texts you had sent while he was out helping gotham. 

matt looked over at him, “trouble got into trouble again?”

chris shook his head, a small smile on his lips, “she actually made it home without someone need to step in. sent me a picture of her cat.” he said.

matt snickered, looking back at the holographic screen in front of his face, “that's the first.”

chris rolled his eyes, “you gotta stop with the brooding act, kid. she's our friend.”

“correction, she's your friend, i’m only dragged into both of your shenanigans by association. plus shes a pain in my ass. you know she got on mister freeze's radar? unbelievable.”

“well it’s trouble matt, whose radar isn't she on?” 

“supermans, wonder womans, literally anyone good for her?”

“so negative. it's not her fault. she just has-”

chris paused, “some insane bad luck.” he muttered, looking back at his phone, that showed a text picture of your window being broken. “really really bad luck.” he snickered.

matt only rolled his eyes, “both of you are a pain in my ass.” he muttered.

a/n: new au i say as they drag me back to my padded room to write my other aus

[fazfacts]

PRODUCT SENTENCE STARTERS

some sentence starters collected from product's movies and shorts. feel free to change pronouns, names, etc!

❝ I love you. And you know I do. ❞

❝ Nobody ever asks about ME, how I'M feeling! ❞

❝ How do you put up with this shit, [name]? ❞

❝ You look at me when I'm fucking talking! ❞

❝ Is your bitch calling me insane? ❞

❝ There's nothing I hate more than a nosy-ass neighbor. ❞

❝ I just wanna know one thing. Where's your sharpest knife? ❞

❝ What did you just call me? ❞

❝ I mean, I have no reason to lie... ❞

❝ I still know how to throw a killer sleepover! ❞

❝ No one will be able to hurt you ever again, okay? ❞

❝ Stop calling me that. ❞

❝ I don't know what's gotten into you. ❞

❝ I don't even want to be a [mother/father/parent] anymore. ❞

❝ Raising you was just a waste of my time. ❞

❝ It's your fault. It's always your fault. ❞

❝ Now look what you've done! ❞

❝ You know what this calls for, and I don't like to do it. ❞

❝ You can spend your time downstairs with the roaches. ❞

❝ I was thinking, and I do apologize for being so harsh earlier. ❞

❝ I'm gonna fix it, I'm gonna fix it, I'm gonna fix it... ❞

❝ I'm gonna fix you. I'm gonna take care of you. ❞

❝ I will always be here. It's okay. ❞

❝ Did you seriously just ask me about my divorce? ❞

❝ How many times have I told you? TV rots your brain! ❞

❝ Now, what in God's name are you doing here? ❞

❝ You made that decision when you walked out of this house. ❞

❝ I told you to stay out of my fucking house! ❞

❝ You were never a [father/mother/parent] to [her/him/them]! ❞

❝ Look at all of this mess. It's all because of you. ❞

❝ Don't you look at me like that! ❞

❝ Oh, you're not gonna eat your fucking peas!? ❞

❝ Oh, [name]. I'm so in love with you. ❞

❝ I thought you quit smoking? ❞

❝ I'm gonna smoke this one, and then guess what? I'm gonna chain smoke the rest of the fucking pack all fucking night! ❞

❝ I'm glad I'll never lose you. ❞

❝ Why the fuck are you just looking at the fire!? ❞

❝ Why did nobody help [her/him/them]? ❞

❝ One thing you must know about me is that I hate kids. ❞

❝ I'm as happy as a pig in shit. ❞

❝ Take a pack of cigarettes and leave me alone, would you? ❞

❝ Aren't you a little old to be trick-or-treating? ❞

❝ Oh, I see. Your [daughter/son/kid] is a fucking softie. ❞

❝ I've been smoking since the womb -- secondhand, obviously. ❞

❝ You really shouldn't be doing that. You look really weird doing that. ❞

❝ Here, take my money! Just give me some cigs before I kill somebody! ❞

❝ Rats happen to be my least favorite animal. ❞

❝ Your poetry really turns me on. ❞

❝ Do you really think we'll be safe? ❞

❝ I had a cigarette for lunch. Try to find my waist! ❞

❝ Oh, [name], you're such a tease! ❞

❝ It's not the blood that scares me, no...it's the fact that I can't remember. ❞

❝ My lungs need smoke just as much as yours need oxygen. ❞

❝ Just do what children do best: ruin [her/his/their] life. ❞

❝ Look, I wouldn't expect you to understand because it's been, like, a millennia since you've trick-or-treated, but I'm a professional. I know what I'm doing. ❞

❝ Oh, the eight year-old finally has a personality! How refreshing. ❞

❝ Why aren't you crying? ❞

❝ Why aren't you scared? ❞

❝ I watch LiveLeaks on my mom's computer when she goes to work. ❞

❝ Choose your next words carefully, [name]. I get violent. LiveLeak violent. ❞

❝ Are you hungry? Because I could really go for a grilled cheese and, like, a Coke Zero or something.❞

❝ My mom usually spends her grocery money at the casino. Do you need more information? ❞

❝ God, would you stop interrogating me? ❞

❝ You're either a smoker or a mom. You can't be both, so decide when you're young, and stick with it. ❞

❝ I mean, you're, like, what? 3 days old? ❞

❝ I had a cat, and then...I didn't have a cat anymore. Nothing morbid about a missing cat. ❞

❝ What time is it? What time is it!? ❞

❝ I'm actually worried...not for myself, but for that sweet child. ❞

❝ Can I swear? …That's so fucking gross. ❞

❝ You don't even remember, do you? ❞

❝ You're a monster for what you've done. ❞

❝ What are you doing? What are you doing!? ❞

❝ It's an emergency...we're out of creamer. ❞

❝ Do you wanna end up like me? ❞

❝ Oh, do I wanna end up like a cranky old bag? No thanks! ❞

❝ I hate kids -- never mind. That was the old me. ❞

❝ Let's be honest, [name]. You are a little past your prime. ❞

❝ Shut up! It's okay! I think I've got this! ❞

❝ Let me help you. ❞

❝ Hey -- don't. Don't look at [her/him/them]. ❞

❝ I'm still growing up, and I am a full-ass grown adult who is still learning how to grow up! ❞

❝ You've gotta strike while the iron's hot. I mean, with you, it's lukewarm at best...but don't wait for it to get cold, is what I'm saying. ❞

❝ You, my friend, are lucky that I have a wardrobe full of adult men's clothing. ❞

❝ Let's get crack-a-lackin. ❞

❝ You look like a gay Nosferatu. ❞

❝ I want milk outside of the glass. I want you to pour it on the table so I can lick it up like a stray cat. ❞

❝ I'm severely lactose intolerant, but I'm going to do this for you...because I like you. ❞

❝ Might I know your favorite color, madam? ❞

❝ That's what love is all about! Changing yourself so the other person will like you! ❞

❝ You're not dead! You're just purple now! ❞

❝ I don't wanna be purple forever! ❞

❝ You're going to be ugly when you grow up. You're already ugly. ❞

❝ [He's/She's/They're] probably dead. ❞

❝ Your dad seems nice. Your grandma's a bitch, though. ❞

❝ I wouldn't provoke [him/her/them] if I were you. ❞

❝ Why are you so mean to me? ❞

❝ Did anyone follow you here? ❞

❝ It's so nice to get away from the kids for once. ❞

❝ I need you to be a part of my life. You're the only family I have left. I love you. ❞

❝ Why are you speaking? I told you not to speak. ❞

❝ This isn't fair. This isn't what I wanted. ❞

❝ Look at me! Look at what you did to me! ❞

[ifistayitwillbedouble]

hey, i love ur arcane pfp!! it's cool to see another byler/arcane fan lmao. i was also there for klance :/ and don't even get me started. like that was actually what kept me from fully believing in byler for years cuz it was just so bad. i kept telling myself to never fully hope for queer rep until i saw it just 'cause it didn't seem to matter how bad the writing would be or if it didn't make sense for the characters to not get together, the writers/executives could just not do it anyway. but it was lowkey kinda depressing thinking that way :/

but byler was the first time that i really ever broke out of that and it seems like u and i might have been in like the exact same position lmao so if you want, i can try and tell u what changed my mind.

ultimately it wasn't any of the theories or the textual evidence even though that was SO good. it was kinda like i just needed to believe that the writers were going to act like writers without letting homophobia get in the way, then i could believe all the analyses on writing tropes and all the logical arguments i saw.

so the biggest thing to me is that the duffers and their team say they care about uplifting minorities and outcasts and while they've done that before, they also seem to do it on a deeper level than other shows that i've seen queerbait. plenty of other shows say they want to do that stuff and then crash and burn spectacularly at it *cough cough* voltron *cough*.

like even for voltron, besides klance, they also had weird mentions of race where it was kind of joked about and whatnot. like it kinda felt like it was brushed off and not given much of a focus at all. but stranger things as a show is completely centered around minorities and outcasts and because of that the writers are specifically interested in them. like it actually gets taken seriously. one of my favorite examples is the bathroom scene with robin and steve. it isn't cliche or boring in the way a lot of mainstream shows write queer storylines (because they don't fully understand them or refuse to put in the time to). it specifically straightbaited the audience and reversed cliche tropes AND the writing?? was so much deeper than i've ever seen mainstream shows go?? the stuff about robin being obsessed with and yet hating steve because she wished the girls would look at her instead. like that's more complex and required way more effort from the writers than if they had just gone for "diversity points". it was something that resonated with a lot of queer people that i've talked to irl and online which is always a good sign. also there were a lot of people saying that it was robin's actor that decided to make robin a lesbian, and the actor actually came out and said that was a misunderstanding. the writers already had that and her coming out planned before!

okay so, this was where i started to have hope for queerness in ST because we have the evidence of a full scene/character that was done well, but it'd another thing entirely to have byler. they're like MAIN main characters and i love robin, but she hasn't been there since the beginning like they have. so they'd have to take another leap with bringing queerness to mike and will.

and they've already kinda done that with confirming will as gay and in love with mike which is wild, but it's what we got. that just leaves mike so then the question becomes, even though we have a lie keeping m*leven together (the painting lie), what if they just like,, sideline will and byler anyway?

but then i read the duffer brothers saying in an interview that will was a main character next season and that they wanted to use his "emotional arc" to tie up the whole show and i was like:

will byers! my boyyy!!! they're putting the spotlight on a character they just confirmed as gay and not only will he be relevant for plot reasons, but they're also gonna heavily focus on his emotional arc?? which for the entirety of the last season was about how much he loved mike and how much it hurt him to push mike towards el?? so they're gonna tie up that emotion? that's the setup with will we get before we get his main character emotional arc in the final season?

they just care way too much about will, who they had planned to be gay and have "sexual identity issues" from the beginning, and pay way too much attention to him for me to think that they're planning on doing him dirty. they chose to focus on his love for mike all of s4 and then to make him a main in s5 (and they've chosen to have the painting lie "pay off"). they didn't have to choose that, but they chose to. all the other queerbaits i've seen never put in the time/effort/care into the sexualities of their characters like they have with will.

anyways, there's a bunch of other small things that i've seen that helped give me even more hope, but this post is getting super long already (sorry about that!). i just wanted to sort of walk through what i went through and it ended up being a lot to explain :')

byler would also be a seriously failing queerbait if it was meant to be a queerbait, ngl. the whole point of queerbaits is to be profitable and dangle smth the audience wants in front of them to do so, but byler is so controversial. if they wanted a good queerbait they could've just gone for steddie or even stonathan (i mean the actors literally kissed for a video before lmao) or at least smth that didn't threaten m*leven which many ppl still see as the "main ship", but they chose byler instead

also, the duffer brothers have said that they've had a large portion of the show planned from the beginning and that they lied to netflix about it appealing to a general audience to get it greenlit. from what they've said, it seems like the intended audience was never the general audience we have today and that was more of a happy(?) accident

Hello old friends!! Been a lot time since I’ve made a byler post.

I can’t believe I’m saying this but I have byler doubt yall. I don’t have doubt in us, like I know our analyzing and theorizing and everything is correct and I know that byler makes logical sense. But I have doubt in the writers actually having the balls to do it. Like this is a show that spends a lot of time on their straight romances and love triangles, it’s marketed towards a general audience (most being straight people), and even though their writing sucks, m*leven is at the center of a lot of the marketing. I mean a gay romance plot twist in the last season does sound kinda crazy in hindsight (although I do understand the decision to make it subtle until the last season to ensure the show’s survival). I just don’t know if I can see two presumably straight(?) men willingly pissing off half their audience to make the gays kiss. Don’t get me wrong, I want it to happen. Like a lot. I’ve basically built my whole acc off of it. But idk. I’ve seen destiel and klance and every other queerbait ship and just can’t help but wonder if we’re falling into the same trap.

So anyway. Reply or reblog to help bring my confidence back. Or don’t, idk. Maybe it’ll be better to go in with lower expectations so I don’t have the entire show ruined for me, but believing is so fun yknow?

[janus-riviere]

I’m either gonna be a really good therapist, or a really bad hairstylist, and that all depends on if I finish this fucking essay

[camellcat]

I love spuffy as much as the next guy but ohhh my gawddd I really kinda wish it had been buffy wil and xand to finish the fight. they started it together, and while they've always had outside help, I just think it would've been so good if each of them had their own big important parts to play since this was the last we get to see of them

[lia404]

"Ai, living has no answer."

"When we're in pain, we search for an answer to feel better. A concise, absolute answer. But if you really want an answer… it's that there is no answer. There are no absolute in this world. Even if we think there is, in the end, it'll only make us feel better for a moment.

If there are no absolute, then what's left?

Bonds. Bonds between individuals. Bonds between one another. That's all there is.

That also changes with time. A huge trigger can cause a huge change. Bonds may be severed. But new bonds can also be formed. So living is a series of bonds.

That's what life is.

I have to do that forever?

Yes.

That's a lot of work.

Yeah.

I'd need to be so strong.

That's why people become stronger. That occasionally leads to conflicts. But even if that happens, we have to keep fighting. Keep searching for bonds, even if there's no answer.

You can't rush living."

So I saw on MyFigureCollection that October 13 was maybe possibly Yusaku's birthday, although I couldn't find any reliable source for this. I'd have loved to do something nice and light-hearted for the occasion, but I'm still feeling too strongly about it all. So here you are instead: Happy (maybe) Birthday, Yusaku! Please have some trauma to go with your trauma. Here's to another year of fending off expectations and looking for your own life and its non-answers with eyes wide open and always filled with hope.

[zaynes-left-chesticle]

Okay I just read Zayne's "Still in Dark" anecdote, and now I'm crying and also my jaW IS ON THE GROUND, WHAT IN THE FUC-

----

enjoy the tags, I just needed to vent....

And I'm scared 🤣

[tommygotwrittenoff]

buck and eddie would be the most insane PTA moms ever, actually. because eddie loves his son and being a bitch and buck loves bossing people around with a clipboard and being involved.

[slasherflicks999]

guys do yall ever have a character you love so dearly that you can never manage to draw them right no matter what and it genuinely drives you up a wall