#then has to backtrack and be like oh I meant either of you

[hopelessfandomfreak]

lesbians exist in ted lasso!! hooray!

I still think roy/keeley will be endgame but I also think jack is exactly what keeley needs right now. she needs someone she can pour her heart and soul to, which she’s already started to do with jack, and who can validate her. eventually I think jack will be the one to tell keeley the obvious fact that she still loves roy, or jack will be a big part of keeley accepting that for herself. either way, jack is going to be important to keeley’s arc this season.

and I mean if I were in keeley’s place I would have done the same thing, can’t say I blame her

[gu6chan]

99% just my autism speaking here but something ive been noticing lately that im sorta kinda 😶 about is when ppl are like "I think you'll like this" but not bc they ACTUALLY think you'll like it, rather they just got into it and want you to also get into it so "I think you'll like this" is a nice personal hook. i love chill stuff as much as any other person ofc but given i don't divulge that EVER, what makes you think my berserk reading, made in abyss watching, drakengard playing ass would like YURU CAMP????

[hxney-lemcn]

Not so Long Distance — Idia Shroud x gn! reader

summery: with the seconds ticking down, everyone has a certain amount of time before they meet their soulmate, you just hope yours is your online crush.

tw: awkward encounters, reader isn't Yuu.

a/n: I'm in my Idia phase, help. Also, my first soulmate fic I'm proud of.

wc: 2.6k

Master List

The countdown on your wrist that had once been a beacon of hope and excitement slowly turned into one of doom. The idea of meeting your soulmate was terrifying yet exciting. Meeting someone that you fit perfectly with was mystifying, and the underlying fear of rejection scared you, but overall you would accept your soulmates wishes. But now? Something you never even thought of happened. 

You’re falling for someone you met online, but your timer is still ticking. 

With the internet still being new, and research into how it could affect the soulmate mark is still going on, you’re not sure if you should lose hope yet. For all you knew, the mark didn’t register when two people meet from separate distances…but you felt like you were coping with that explanation. You had met him online months ago, and every bad joke or insult towards a shitty player made you laugh, everytime he laughed at your bad jokes your stomach fluttered. It was embarrassing in a sense, you were falling for someone you hadn’t even seen yet. What if he was tricking you and he was some old man? But you doubted it, he sounded young and the way he talked was even outdoing modern slang. In fact, you even brought up this train of thought one day while you were on a call playing separate games. 

“Y’know, for all I know you’re some fifty year old guy,” You said in a joking tone, farming your crops in game.

“Hah?” Gloomuri, or Gloom as you’ve dubbed him, let out a noise of confusion. “Are you really that dumb?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean!” You huffed, accidentally hitting a plant that still needed to grow mature causing you a slight profit loss on your farm. “I just mean that I’ve never seen your face. Even though I know you, if I saw you on the street I’d never realize.”

The call fell silent for a few seconds, but to you it felt like minutes. You were propositioning something that felt like crossing a small boundary that was set. A video call. Something you were nervous about as well since that meant showing your own face. But IGloom had snuck his way into becoming one of your top, if not closest friend over the past few months. He’d drone on about some game drama you had almost no idea about, while he’d listen to your ‘normie’ drama (as he dubbed it) about school or friends. Although you’d say the best moments were when you’d both geek out over games or anime together, fighting on who the best character is and what your favorite part was. 

“Y-you wanna do a…video call?” Gloom hesitantly asked, you could hear the nerves in his tone which caused you to backtrack.

“We don’t have to if you don’t wanna, I’m not trying to pressure you,” You assured. “I’m just a bit curious. 

A few more seconds passed before he spoke up, voice even shakier than before, “Y-you’d show your f-face too…right?”

You fidgeted with your computer mouse, his nerves starting to get to you, “It’s only fair I suppose…” When you clicked on the call, unsure where this was going, you were surprised to see his camera on, but covered. “Wait, you mean right now?” You asked. 

“D-did you not mean right now?” He replied back, his voice an octave higher. 

“I-I just don’t…I’m not the most presentable,” You muttered back, looking at your reflection in the black of your phone screen. You pushed some of your hair back into place, fixing the collar of your sweater. Oh gosh, you were going to finally see what your crush looks like! 

“I don’t either,” Gloom mumbled, continuing to mumble something under his breath that you couldn’t make out. “N-never mind, never doing this-”

“W-wait!” You called out, turning your camera on as soon as you were out of sight. “I’ll do it, just don’t judge me too hard, okay?” Another few seconds before he meekly replied a small ‘ok’. “On the count of three. One…two…three.” 

Just like that, your breath got taken away. On the other side of the camera was a pale guy with blue flaming hair and…wait a minute…didn’t someone exactly like him go to your campus? You blinked at him with wide eyes, snapping out of your daze when he shied away from your gaze.

“Do I know you?” You asked dumbly, snapping Gloom out of his own daze. It was his turn to blink at you before he tilted his head. 

If he moved his hand away from the bottom of his face you’d notice a sharp smirk overtake his handsome features, “I’d hope so, we’ve been talking for how long?”

“That’s not what I meant,” You huffed once more that night. “You look like a guy that goes to my campus.”

“Really?” Gloom asked, unbelievably skeptical. “‘Cus not many people have blue flaming hair.”

You rolled your eyes, glad that convo was back to your playful banter, “I’ve never actually seen him. Only heard about him once from my irl friends. And yes, he was described as having fiery hair.”

“...Where do you go to school?” He asked, suddenly serious.

You gave him a skeptical look, “And why should I give you my current location? So you can stalk me?”

“I could find out in one click if I wanted,” He shrugged, amber eyes showing he was completely serious. 

“Thanks for not doxxing me I guess…” You grumbled, a bit put off. “I go to Night Raven College.” The silence was loud after that revolution before he broke it.

“I guess you do know me irl.”

That call had changed something in your friendship. The space between y’all had seemed to get smaller as you both grew more comfortable with one another, nearly having calls everyday. Now that you knew what eachother looked like, you’d have some video calls sprinkled in, and your raging crush seemed to only grow stronger. Now you had a pretty face to put to his lovely deep voice, and you wanted to strangle him for how attractive he was.

You now found yourself counting down the days till school started, and as you looked down at that damned timer on your wrist you found yourself hopeful again. You had fifteen days till school, and your soulmate timer was down to twenty days. You had been barely getting any sleep due to that, hoping that once you met Gloomuri, who you’ve come to know as Idia, the timer would hit zero. You both just clicked so well in a way you’ve never felt before, you just hoped he had the same numbers lining his own wrist. 

…

With how excited you were with meeting Idia, you found yourself getting quickly overwhelmed with school work. The professors didn’t hold back when it came to work, and contact between you and Idia had devolved from video calls into texts. It wasn’t until you woke up the first Saturday of the school year, looked down at your wrist and noticing the time had changed from days to hours. You nearly had a heart attack seeing it, all your anxiety mashing together at one moment. What if you just stayed in your dorm all day? But then that would mean your soulmate was someone in your dorm. But if you went out there was a high chance it wasn’t Idia. 

Before the dilemma could get to your head too much, your roommate asked if you wanted to tag along with them to Sam’s shop. Wanting to clear your mind a bit, you agreed, hoping to just ignore your problem instead of overthinking. You both ended up talking about classes, what you predicted you’d struggle in and do okay, who was in your classes and such. 

You had to hold yourself back from buying something, though you do have to give Sam props for having almost everything you could think of. All was good once more…until someone with a head of fiery blue hair walked in. It wasn’t Idia though, no, but someone who looked eerily similar if not quite a bit younger. Your friend noticed your attention left them, falling onto the young technomatic humanoid and decided to speak up.

“Hey Ortho,” They greeted him with a smile. “How’s it going?”

“Hello!” He replied back quickly, “My morning is going well. How about you?”

“It’s been good,” They smiled. “This is my friend.” They introduced you, saying your name. To your surprise Ortho lit up, seemingly recognizing your name. 

“Really?” He asked. You hummed while nodding in agreement, heart skipping a beat. Peaking at your wrist you noticed the time was cut down to minutes. Was this it? Was Idia actually your soulmate? Your hope was reignited tenfold.

“My brother talks about you all the time!” Ortho exclaimed excitedly.

“Wait, you know Idia?” Your friend asks, astonished. “The shut-in who uses a tablet to attend class?”

“M-maybe,” You murmured bashfully, crossing your arms as a nervous habit.

“Are you free after this?” Ortho asked, nearly jumping up and down.

“Yeah,” Your friend spoke up before you could. “We just finished actually.”

“That’s great!” Ortho exclaimed, his eyes shining. You were sure if he didn’t have the bottom half of his face covered he’d be smiling widely. “You should come over to Ignihyde, I’m sure Idia would love it if you came to visit.”

“Okay.” 

It was out before you knew it, and like a whirlwind, you were suddenly swept to the front door of Idia’s dorm room, his little brother by your side. Before you could lift your hand up to knock, the door automatically slid open after Ortho’s face was scanned. You knew Ignihyde was known for its technical prowess…but this seemed like overkill. You stood outside awkwardly, unsure if you were allowed to step in yet, but you weren’t left to flounder for long as Ortho pulled you in by your hand. You glanced once more at your wrist and you nearly burst into tears. Only a few seconds left. A few seconds left until Idia was your confirmed soulmate and you suddenly didn’t feel as excited. Fear grasped your heart, unsure if he would be willing to be tied to you for the rest of your lives. You didn’t have much time to think of every terrible scenario as you faced the guy you had been fawning over. 

As Idia turned to greet Ortho (and grab some snacks), he found himself having a heart attack when he saw your face. He knew you both went to the same school, but he wasn’t prepared to see you face to face…not irl at least. He barely comprehended Ortho’s rambling, too busy trying to hide his visage from your sight. He wasn’t prepared for someone to visit, not to mention you. Everywhere he looked he saw a different mess that would surely disappoint you, dirty clothes that scattered the floor, empty ramen cups that lined his desk, and empty cans of energy drinks that filled his trash can…yeah not the best first impression. 

You, on the other hand, anxiously straighten your shirt while trying to not seem like you cared about your appearance too much. You were the first one to speak up after Ortho took his leave (seemingly ignorant of the tense atmosphere). 

“Hey,” You greeted, an awkward smile on your lips. Instead of replying, Idia merely gave a weak whimper as he pulled his hood as far as it would go over his head. “I-I’m sorry, Ortho invited me, and I have been wanting to meet you in person, I hope I’m not overstepping too much…” Then, he let out a sudden shriek, causing you to nearly fall over from how loud it was.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, scared he might’ve hurt himself somehow. 

“Th-the…y-your…I’m in a dream, this has to be. There’s no way this is real,” He muttered, holding his face in some sort of desperation. 

“Not a bad dream I hope…” You chuckled awkwardly, not sure what was going on. Not the cute meeting with your soulmate like you wished, you just hoped this wasn’t him violently rejecting you. Instead of replying, he let out another whimper, and you felt like you’re intruding in something you shouldn’t be. Your awkwardness meter being at its max, you decided you should take your exit and hope he calms down soon so you both can talk the situation out. 

“I’ll just…it was nice seeing you,” You stumbled over your words a bit. “I’ll let you uh…I’ll leave you to it…”

“W-wait!” Idia jolts up, eyes erratic. “You…w-we’re…” “Soulmates?” You supplemented. 

“Y-yeah…how are you so calm about it?”

“Would…would it be weird if I said I was hoping for you to be my soulmate?” You asked in a whisper, eyes darting around his room instead of meeting his own. Not like he’d be able to make eye contact with you either. 

Idia let out a squeak at your reply, his heart beating erratically. He found you too good to be true. You both liked similar games and anime, and when you didn’t play the same game you’d both play your own game while being on call. He found himself looking forward to your calls, something he would have never thought possible (he avoids calls like the plague). He found himself looking forward to something for once, finding solace in something that wasn’t fictional for once, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It was scary, but manageable when you were just pixels like everything else he loved (Ortho wasn’t technically pixels, but he wasn’t human (anymore) either). But now you were face to face in person, and you were so much more attractive when he could see you fully, and gosh he’s not sure how much more he could handle this. Especially not with such bold remarks like that. 

Idia never really cared about soulmates. If anything, he loathed the ink that marked his skin. Wished for the digits to just go away. His entire life was a curse, so cursed that he was forced to drag someone down with him. He didn’t deserve it, and no one else deserved his fate. And now, seeing you, a person outside of his family that he managed to grow close to…he felt conflicted. He too was happy you were his soulmate. You were so sweet, but not overly so. Not afraid to snap back at him with your quick wit. His heart would skip a beat when he heard the smile in your voice, or when you’d laugh at his lame joke. He would dream of a future with you when he closed his eyes, allowing him to envision a life with you and Ortho, living happily somewhere like normal people would. He was also guilty, you didn’t deserve a secluded life away from others.

“Yes,” He ended up answering. “That’s like…super weird.”

“Oh,” You felt disheartened. This was totally a rejection. 

“You shouldn’t like me,” Idia continued. “Someone like me doesn’t get that ending…”

“Hmm,” You hummed, an idea forming in your mind. Perhaps you just needed to speak his language. “I guess you got the secret good ending then.”

“B-but-”

“No buts,” You tutted. “Now, last time we talked you mentioned that game, why don’t we play it?”

It’ll take a lot of time for Idia to fully warm up to the idea of having a soulmate, truly. Not just some numbers, but an actual person who smiled at him so warmly, like he was worth something. It’ll take even more time for him to warm up to you, your love, your affection…but he found something small burning within him. Like a small spark being lit deep in his heart…hope. Hope for the future, something he’s never felt before.

[catcze]

The edge of Wriothesley’s desk digs into the small of your back, the hard wood undoubtedly leaving an indent in your skin from how you’ve leaned on it. Any other time you’d frown and huff, but it was difficult to properly gripe about it right now.

“Your grace.”

“Yes?” The Duke murmurs damn near right into your ear, almost low enough to be a purr. With how close he is —how his face hovers over your and his hands rest on either side of your waist, bracketing you in— you can almost hear the rumble of the word come straight from his chest.

You can leave this proximity easily— you know this, and so does he. But for some outlandish reason, you find yourself inclined to rest here, surrounded by him, the desk at your back be damned.

“Your grace,” you try again, voice soft to match his. “What are you doing?”

It’s odd to see the normally eloquent man, who never stutters in his words or backtrack in his thoughts, to be so quieted— almost struggling with finding the right words.

“I don’t know,” Wriothesley settles on finally, a furrow in his brow. “I… don’t know. Something I should have done sooner, probably. This… thing between us has been driving me mad. I feel like I’d regret it if I hesitated any longer, you know?”

And oh, you do. The unspoken tension that hangs in the air when it’s just you two in his office, when you have lunch, or spend time together— you feel like it’s been clogging your airways and making it hard to breath. Each day with you both toeing the line of the meaning of all those longing glances and soft smiles had been wearing on you. What a relief to know that you’re not alone in your struggles.

You hum, leaning forward just enough so your nose brushes his. With a thrill in your stomach, you don’t miss how he swallows heavily, how he blushes just the tiniest bit.

“If you’ve grown tired of our song and dance, then pray tell— what do you want to do instead?”

“Whatever you want,” is his immediate answer. There’s a growing confidence in his eyes, a hope that flickers brighter and brighter with each second you let him be near you like this. “Whatever you’re willing to give me. Whether that be just a single kiss and nothing more, or being able to wake up beside you and kiss you good morning until you get sick of me.” Then he swallows, his words coming out slower. “But if you push me away and you say none of this meant anything, that’s fine too. Like I said— whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll take without complaint.” But I really, really hope that you don’t choose that last one. I think my heart would actually break.

You can see how Wriothesley grows more tense with each second of your silence. He tries to cover it up well, but you know his tells. He glances away, the flush on his cheeks traveling up to the tips of his ears, making him look cuter than you ever thought was possible.

A soft hand on his cheek is all it takes to snap his attention back to you.

“Morning kisses don’t sound too bad,” you tell him slowly, wanting him to hear every word. You think you can feel your heart in your throat. “Though I have to ask: is breakfast gonna be included in this deal? Because a hard ‘no’ to that is an absolute dealbreaker for me.”

And when Wriothesley grins, when he has to fight the laugh that begs to be let loose from his chest and the minute tremble that rakes through his whole body, you think you’ve never seen him more radiant. You wish to see that kind of softness on him every single day. Oh, you’re so damn smitten with his man.

“You’re gonna have to settle with my shitty cooking, but I can at least promise that I’ll try.” The look in his eyes is gooey and warm and sweet— the flavor of melted chocolate and honey.

You wrap your arms around his neck, slinging them over his shoulders, and rewardingly scratching the nape of his neck when his arms come to wrap around and press you to his chest in turn. “Sounds delightful,” you say, and his heart does a flip in his chest. Can scarcely believe that this is real.

“Can I kiss you? Please?” He asks softly. “I’ve been wanting to do it for the longest time.”

You hum, looking at him from beneath your lashes. “Go right ahead, your grace.”

His thumb presses gently against the plush of your bottom lip, the edges of his restraint visibly fraying. “My name, please. If I’m going to kiss you, I’d rather have my name on your lips, not my title.”

“Wriothesley, I’m waiting for that kiss.”

You have just a split second to register the absolutely lovesick look on his face at the sound of you saying his name, the way he melts and shakes against you. How he looks at you so softly it almost makes you choke up. Wriothesley presses his lips against yours, painstakingly gentle as he moves against you, in a kiss much too long overdue— the first in a series of many that he’s all too happy to give you.

[siriuslylu]

𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙞𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 - 𝗷𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗹𝘂𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗶𝗰 - word count: 746

Regulus is not used to sharing his feelings outloud, is not that he doesn’t feel things, it’s just that he was raised in a very closed household, never getting kind words from his parents, not being able to tell Sirius because that was a sign of weakness.

So is not that he doesn’t feel love, is just he’s not used to expressing it loud and proud like James does.

But he’s been wanting to say this for a long time, he’s been holding onto this for far too long, James deserves to know, and he deserves to be able to say it without feeling like he’s doing something wrong.

He knows it’s mutual, but James won’t say it first, because he doesn’t want Regulus to feel pressured, into either feeling it or reciprocating. What James doesn’t know is that he’s very much reciprocated, and Regulus has been biting his tongue for a long time already, fighting his inner demons, trying to push his mother’s voice out of his head making him backtrack every time.

The thing with Regulus is that, when he does show his emotions, he gets all flustered and awkward, and so he’s mistaken for being angry or upset. So it’s quite funny to Evan and Barty when they find him in front of a mirror practicing saying those three words, with a deep frown and a little bit meaner than it should be. In return, they get hexed, but it was worth it since it’ll never happen again in their lifetimes.

So now, here he is, laying on the grass with his boyfriend, late at night, watching the stars. James is asking him about constellations, and Reg decides this is it.

”James”

”Yeah?”

”I-“

But words won’t come out

”I want… I feel…”

”Yes?”

James turns his head, looking at him softly, and the moment he stares back, he feels suddenly calm, because this is what loving James Potter feels like, is tranquility, is feeling safe, and loved, and cared, is feeling like you could do anything in the world. Still, he looks back at the sky and points to his star.

”Regulus, right there, it’s the brightest star in the Leo constellation. It’s also known as “the heart of the lion”, and every year, the sun meets up with it, and we kind of rise and fall together”

He looks at James for a minute, finding nothing but pure love in his eyes.

”You and me, we are not only meant to be together on Earth, but also in the sky, forever, and I’ll always be your heart, and will shine brighter than anyone, to make you feel cared” he looks up again, swallowing a lump because he can’t say it looking right at him, what if he laughs at him?

”Reg…” James says breathless

”I love… you… James”

”Reg” gasps again

“If you don’t…”

”I do! Oh Merlin, I so do!”

”Well then?” getting all nervous and frowning now “say it back”

He hears James laughing at his side, oh he knew this was bound to happen, he-

“Regulus.”

He stops, because he was gonna flee, fight or flight they say, but he could never fight James.

”Look at me”

He does

”Regulus Arcturus Black, don’t you dare tell me you love me and escape from me”

He says grabbing his hand, turning to his side and caressing his cheek as if it’s the most precious thing to exist

”I love you Reg, you’ll always be my entire heart, my brightest star, and I want to rise and fall with you every day for the rest of my life, not just for a while.”

”Really?”

”Really. Would you say it again?”

”No” looking up flustered, James only exhales a laugh, but then “Yes, I love you”

”I love you”

Silence, the comfortable one, the one you enjoy because it’s filled with everything he can’t say just yet, but they both know already, he might not be able to fully express how he feels, but he’s trying, because his boyfriend deserves it and he does too, and he’s allowed to feel, so he turns and leans in, and places the softest kiss, because there’s nothing he loves more than kissing James Potter, except maybe James Potter himself

”I’m so telling Sirius you said I’m your brightest star, he’s gonna lose it”

”Reg! No! Please!”

He laughs before being trapped in his lover’s arms, and he’s shinning when they conjunct, they both are.

[its-time-to-write]

Hiiii, I’d love to see Jamie and the reader having to randomly babysit Phoebe - happy for you to decide where the plot goes from there! ❤️

Here it is! A little bit of comedy, a little bit of angst. For reference, Molly is Roy’s sister. I read a fic once that called her that, and it’s been the name that’s stuck. Oh, and this references Phoebe’s dad and he’s a tool, so be aware of that. Thanks for requesting!

stick together like glitter

Jamie doesn’t have training because Roy has to watch Phoebe, and you don’t have work because of some random furlough day. This means it’s your first real break together in a very long time. All his extra training has meant that you two haven’t spent as much time together as either of you would like, but you two have plans today. 

You had spent the night at Jamie’s last night since he didn’t have to be up at 3, and so you could stay up late and sleep in. You’re both passed out, Jamie’s arm thrown around your waist, when there’s a knock at the door.

You and Jamie jolt up and he lets out a raspy, “What the hell?”

He rolls over to go answer the door.

“Pants!” you call before he reaches the top of the stairs. He backtracks and picks his plaid pajama bottoms off a chair. He thumps bleary-eyed down the stairs to see who’s there.

You hear muffled voices for a few minutes, then the door shuts and Jamie calls, “Babe! Can you come here a minute?”

You grab a pair of Jamie’s sweats out of a drawer and pad down the stairs, where you are met by Jamie and Phoebe of all people. 

“Hey Pheebs!” you say, surprise waking you up a little. “What’re you doing here?”

“Mum’s at work and Uncle Roy was supposed to watch me, but something came up so he brought me here. Jamie said it was ok if I spent the day with you.”

You smile at Phoebe and look up at Jamie. He shrugs sheepishly. “Can’t say no, could I? Look at her.”

He and Phoebe grin at you angelically.

You try to sigh, but it comes out sounding like a laugh. “Alright, come on. Have you had breakfast yet?”

Phoebe shakes her head. “Uncle Roy was just starting the toast when he got the phone call. I don’t mind though, because today does not feel like a toast kind of day.”

“I agree,” Jamie says to Phoebe, “today doesn’t feel like a toast kind of day. Lucky for you, I’ve been told my pancake recipe is better than-” he catches himself, “Well, they’re really fucking good. Won’t take long.”

He holds out his hand for Phoebe to take, and he leads her to the kitchen.

—

That’s how you ended up in Jamie’s kitchen, still in your pajamas, while Phoebe chatters on about the book Roy is reading her as Jamie flips pancakes and drops chocolate chips to make smiley faces.

It’s weirdly domestic in a way you two have never been before, and you’re not sure how you feel about it. You certainly don’t have negative feelings, that’s for sure.

“What do you want to do today, Phoebe?” you ask. 

She shrugs. “Uncle Roy was going to take me to the library and then to pick up flowers for Keeley, and then we were going to get ice cream. I wanted to play Princesses and Dragons, because I got new dragon claws. They’re in my backpack, want to see?”

“I do!” Jamie says.

You laugh. “I would love to! I think we can still do a lot of that today, ice cream included. None for Jamie though, he hates ice cream.” Phoebe gasps, and Jamie turns from the stove, offended. 

“Babe,” he says in a scandalized tone, “you’d lie to a child? I fucking love ice cream!”

You raise an eyebrow and deadpan, “You do not, you said you’d rather eat that disgusting pureed spinach.”

“Babe,” he replies, “I literally cannot believe you right now.” He turns to Phoebe. “Pheebs, you believe me, yeah? What kind of monster don’t like ice cream?”

Phoebe looks from you to Jamie. You’re doing your absolute best to maintain a straight face, and Jamie’s comedic beseeching look is not helping.

Phoebe squints at you in such a Roy-like manner that you break, dissolving into giggles. She joins in, and Jamie lets out a faux sigh of relief. Today’s going to be fun.

—

It’s late in the afternoon now, and you, Jamie, and Phoebe have been all over Richmond. Phoebe checked out three large books from the library while Jamie followed you to the murder mystery section. You whispered the plots to him until Phoebe tapped your elbow to let you know she was ready to go. 

You stopped at the flower shop, and Jamie bought one flower for you and one of Phoebe. She loved it, and twirled it as she walked. 

Your last stop was for ice cream, where she explained the pros and cons of each flavor, and why Uncle Roy believes any flavor other than cherry chip should be illegal. 

Now, you’re walking back to Jamie’s house, holding Phoebe’s hands in between you. Her flower is safely poking out of her backpack. 

“Jamie,” she says, “why does Uncle Roy think you’re a prick?”

Jamie chokes on air and you’re doubled over from laughter. That question came out of nowhere

“Well,” Jamie says, trying (and failing) to speak normally, “when I met your Uncle Roy, I was very young and very fit and much, much better than him at football. He didn’t like that so much, and I thought it was fuckin funny, so I just made fun of him for it. And me dad was kind of mean to me a lot, so I s’pose it was just easier to be a prick to everyone. Pretty sure he likes me know though.” Jamie pauses. “I’m less prickish now that this one came along.” He grins at you and winks, and you’re blushing like you’re a teenager. 

Phoebe is digesting all of this, and your footsteps slow as you approach Jamie’s doorstep. Finally she says, “If we play Princesses and Dragons, will you be the princess?”

“Only if I get a sparkly crown,” Jamie replies. 

Phoebe seems satisfied by this answer so she turns to you and asks if you want to be a dragon like her or a knight. 

“Knight,” you reply, no hesitation. 

“Aw, babe, you gonna rescue me?” Jamie asks, pushing open the door for you and Phoebe. 

You playfully pat his cheek as you walk by, not missing the way his eyes wander from yours to your lips. 

“Come on!” Phoebe shouts. She’s already at the door to the backyard. “We have to hurry before Uncle Roy gets back!”

—

It turns out that there is no need to hurry. Roy texted Jamie with a simple going to be longer than fucking expected, and a sorry to ruin your date night to you. 

Not a problem! you replied. Hope everything’s alright, and let Molly know that we can keep Phoebe overnight if she needs. 

Roy responds with a simple x, which is more than Jamie got, but he doesn’t care because Phoebe’s explaining to him the difference between a crocodile and an alligator in great detail over dinner.

You’re a little worried. Jamie is too, you can tell. His forehead gained a slight crease when he read Roy’s text. Neither Roy nor Phoebe have offered any explanation as to what had come up, and you just hope everything’s all right. You’re relatively certain it has to do with Keeley, especially because she hasn’t texted either of you all day. Phoebe is (you hope) oblivious, although she’s incredibly observant, so she’s probably already pieced together more than you and Jamie have.  

It’s a little past 8pm now, and Phoebe is beginning to yawn in your lap. Jamie’s sitting next to you on the couch, one arm around your shoulders as he hums along to Tangled. Phoebe’s wearing one of your t-shirts, and it’s long enough to be a dress on her. After an especially big yawn, you stand up and carry her to one of the guest rooms, a perk of Jamie’s fucking enormous house.

“Jaim and I will be in that door right over there,” you whisper. “The night light will stay on all night, and we’ll keep on the light in the hall. If you wake up and need anything, you can yell for us. We’ll be awake watching tv for a while, and I’m a light sleeper anyway, so don’t be afraid to shout if you need something.”

Phoebe nods sleepily, and you kiss her on the forehead. You pull the blanket up to her chin as Jamie says softly, “Goodnight, kid.”

“‘Night Jamie,” Phoebe whispers back.

You and Jamie get up and slip out the door, shutting it behind you softly. You pause in the hall, back to the door. Jamie’s close to you, and both of you have concern written on your faces.

You really had a wonderful time with Phoebe today, and you don’t mind the fact that she’s spending the night. Jamie has extra toothbrushes and Phoebe thinks it’s fun to wear your shirt to bed, but this is nowhere near how you thought the day was going to go. It’s just not like Roy or Molly not to call or to be out this late. 

Strike that; it’s not like Roy or Molly to be out this late for a reason that makes you feel especially joyous.

Your brows are knit together so tight that Jamie has to physically smooth them with his thumb.

“I’m worried too, love,” he says softly.

—

You’re both wide awake in bed, listening for Phoebe (she’s snoring) and checking your respective phones (still nothing). It’s not until 10:30pm that Jamie’s phone lights up with a call from Roy. He’s out of bed and down the stairs in an instant, just in case Phoebe can hear him.  

You’re still in bed picking at your nails, when your phone dings. It’s Molly.

She’s sent a long paragraph but the gist of it is what you’re sure Roy is telling Jamie on the phone:

I had an extra long shift today, which is why Roy was supposed to watch Phoebe. When he showed up to the house, Phoebe’s dad was outside, lurking in his car. I didn’t like it and neither did Roy, so he dropped her off with you to find out why he was coming ‘round. 

You shiver. You haven’t heard a lot about Phoebe’s dad, but you know that she and Jamie have shitty fathers in common. They had been talking about it earlier that afternoon, her expressing frustration and him gently explaining that none of it was her fault.

You go back to Molly’s text.

Turns out the bastard was here to take Phoebe. He got high and decided to just grab her, I guess. He and Roy got into it, so then Keeley had to bail Roy out of jail for assault and it became this whole thing because Roy wanted to make sure that prick was never allowed to be near Phoebe. He’s been pulling strings all day, filling out restraining orders and shit. Phoebe doesn’t know any of this, and I don’t want her to, but it sounds like her dad’s going away for a long time. Roy and Keeley have been at it all day. They know a lot of the right people, between the two of them.

Three bubbles appear, then disappear. You type, You’re more than welcome to come over and spend the night, Molls.

She replies, Only if I can borrow your toothbrush. 

Despite yourself, you smile. You and Molly grew up together and got even closer after Roy was recruited for football, so you both understand that when the other offers something, they mean it. 

She says, Be over in fifteen. Love you, so you send her a heart. You hear footsteps and look up to see Jamie in the doorway. “That was Roy,” he says, face somber.

You lift your phone slightly. “Heard from Molly,” you reply. “She’ll be here in fifteen minutes. She’s spending the night.”

Jamie nods and settles heavily into bed next to you. 

He blows out a breath. “Fuckin hell.”

“Yeah,” you agree.

“Poor Pheebs,” he continues. “I know how she’s gonna feel when she finds out.”

You rest your head on his shoulder. “Do you think that Molly and Roy should handle it differently?”

“Fuck no,” Jamie responds, “wish my mum had a brother like Roy to lock up my piece-of-shit dad. Still, he’s her dad, isn’t he? Doesn’t matter how much of a prick he is, she’s still gonna fucking love him.”

You’re silent for a moment. “Jamie,” you say finally, “d’you think she’ll be alright?”

Jamie turns his head to you. “‘Course she’ll be alright,” he says. “It ain’t easy, but she’s got an amazing mum, plus Roy and Keeley. I fucking made it, and I only had me mum.”

He can tell you’re still not satisfied. “Look, babe- as shitty as Phoebe’s dad is, she’ll be alright. It won’t happen overnight, but she’s a tough kid. She’s got people who fuckin love her and who want to protect her. She’ll make it through.”

You nod. You two sit in silence until there’s a light knock on the door. It’s Molly.

You wrap her in a tight hug, a million unspoken words lingering between you two. You take her to Phoebe’s room and hand her an extra pair of your clean pajamas.

Phoebe says a sleepy, “Mum?” so you sneak out the door and shut it silently.

You head back to Jamie, and now it’s your turn to flop onto the bed. It’s been a long day, and you have a feeling tomorrow is going to be even longer. Jamie pulls you onto his chest in a tight hug, and you finally fall asleep to the steady beat of his heart.

[bullet-prooflove]

A White Picket Fence: Mike McLusky x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mqdhvtter @buckysteveloki-me @elenavampire21 @noorbindi

Companion piece to:

Hell or Highwater - You and Mike always find your way back to each other.

Everything You Need (NSFW) - You and Mike get a little rough because you both won't commit.

Battle Scars - Mike tells you how he feels after a near miss.

Insomnia - Mike can't sleep without you.

Dreams - Mike experiances a panic attack in the middle of the night.

You’re drinking a cocktail when Mike finds you at The Wardrobe, an expensive hipster bar he wouldn’t normally be caught dead in. You’re sipping from A Sex on the Beach and he thinks it’s wishful thinking on your part because the coastline around here is filthy and rocky, a casualty of the industrial complex that fuels Kingstown’s economy.

“Not tonight.” You say, shaking your head as Mike takes up residence on the stool alongside of you. “I don’t want to be around you right now.”

“Stella…” He begins but the words they just won’t come because he doesn’t have any that will make this right.

Your relationship has always been complicated. He had never meant to sleep with his FBI handler and you had never meant to fall in love with an ex-con. The two of you are at an impasse because you’d asked him to leave with you last night, to start a new life somewhere else, somewhere you could both be happy, be free.

“I have responsibilities.” He’d told you and you’d left after that. He hadn’t followed, he figured you needed to take some time to recalibrate before he returns to the issue.

“If I leave this town.” He says finally as the bartender sets a glass of bourbon down in front of him. “I might as well be putting a match to a powder keg. You know that, I know you know that so why…”

He looks at you then, sees the glossiness of your eyes as you purse your lips together. His gaze lowers to your second drink, the one he’s just watched  the bartender make for you and he realises he didn’t see any peach schnapps or vodka. That Sex on the Beach, it’s a virgin which means…

“Oh.” He says, his grasp on the crystal tumbler tightening. “How far along?”

“Two months.” You tell him, poking at the ice in your glass with straw, the savagery of each strike sending a shiver up his spine. “I took the test a few days ago.”

He backtracks over the timeframe, the two of you were still using condoms at that point but the sex was vigorous. It wasn’t implausible that there had been an accident, that one could have torn without either of you knowing.

“And you were hoping…”

“Yea, but I guess now I got my answer.” You push away from the bar, snatching up your purse before you meet his gaze. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care it.”

It’s as you start to walk away, he catches your arm. You tilt your head towards him and he sees that devastation in you, he feels it acutely in his own chest because there is nothing else he wants more than to be that guy, the one that gets the white picket fence and a happy ending. But that’s not him, it will never be him.

“I’ll go with you.” He says quietly. “To the appointment. I’ll…”

You’re already shaking your head, cutting him off and something inside him dies because he won’t get to say goodbye to that baby. It’ll just disappear into the ether, the same way everything good always seems to in Mike’s life.

“It’ll just raise questions if someone sees you at the clinic.” You say, your voice entirely devoid of emotion and he understands in that moment that this has broken you, that the relationship between the two of you, it won’t ever be the same again.

“Take care Mike.” You say before pulling away. “I’ll text you when it’s done.”

Love Mike? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won't be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[blckbrrybasket]

Hihi! I dunno if you take requests but I've been thinking about this for the last like 3 hours.

How would 141 or Kortac react to them getting in a argument with their s/o that got to the point they were gonna walk out for air and their s/o panics.

S/o has been in relationships where they had to beg for their partner to stay. So they subconsciously panic and get on their knees. Saying/yelling the words from the song "beautiful things" by Benson Boone while their on their knees practically sobbing

I love Angst lol sorry

- Marshmellow ❤️

noo i love the angst ! i got a bit carried away.

based on “beautiful things” by Benson Boone

- italics indicate song lyrics

Price had always tried to be a levelheaded man. He certainly needed a certain degree of patience for his status as Captain, but he hated bringing his work attitude home. Unfortunately, this also meant he could get worked up sometimes. He was always fighting somebody and he hated fighting with you the most. There were sometimes it got too heated and he needed to walk out to get air.

It wasn’t you, more so him. It’s hard to entirely drop the role of needing to be in power and he would never forgive himself if he even raised his voice at you. But heading briskly to the door he sees the look in your eyes and the damage is done. “Sweetheart..” he started, wanting to backtrack immediately.

He didn’t care who was at fault it wasn’t worth losing your happiness. As he started to walk to you he didn’t anticipate you surfing forward and kneeling in front of him. Your hands clasped like you were praying for him to stay while you weeped. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to lose you! I didn’t- I-“ you gasped for air, Price’s heavy hands interrupting you by falling on your shoulders.

“In and out,” he instructed your breathing. As you shakily steadied yourself Price slid the palm of his calloused hand and tilted your head up. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? I would never leave you like that.” Your lower lip quivered as you spoke, “I know the things the world gives me it can take away. I'm up at night thinkin' I just might lose it all. Lose you.” The next words from Price’s mouth were instantaneous. “Never.”

Unlike Price, Soap is pretty impulsive. If something riles him up he’s running, either towards or away from it. This also included you. Soap wasn’t entirely aware of the pattern of behavior, all he knew is that when his fuse was lit he needed to get going. Sometimes he’d leave for quick runs or go to the gym, but tonight he’d gone on a drive.

It was supposed to be short but he’d stopped in a parking lot near the sea and watched the waves crash from his car. Time truly fell away from him and when he noticed he sped home. Soap stepped through the door, glancing around but you weren’t there. He could faintly hear your sniffles from the bedroom and his heart sank.

Soap pressed opened the door and slowly walked to the bed where you turned over. Desperation filled your eyes and Soap swore his heart couldn’t take anymore with how you flung yourself into his arms. “Lad/Lass…” His large arms encircled your frame as he pulled you tightly against him.

“So fuckin’ sorry time just…” “Don’t leave,” you whispered against him. “I need you, oh God, please stay.” Soap scooped you up against him, wordlessly crawling into bed. He didn’t bother to kick his shoes off only caring that you were comfortable in his arms. “Nowhere to be but here, with you.” Soap muttered and kissed your forehead. “It’s okay.”

Gaz was a hothead, but being a laidback person he could typically control his emotions rather than his emotions controlling him. There were still a few hot buttons though that if pressed could make him fired up. He would never take it out on you, knowing your history of relationships, but it also slips his mind sometimes.

Gaz is a clingy guy, but he forgets exactly why you can be clingy after fights rather than him needing to calm down. Don’t get me wrong if he could be there with open arms to comfort you, he would, but his brain moves a million miles a minute after arguing. It isn’t mentally possible for him to keep his composure that long. So he blows off steam by going outside and smoking a cig.

Not a healthy habit, but better than running off to god knows where. This was one of those instances though. Gaz wanted to give you both time to chill out, but he hadn’t caught your heartbroken look when he went to the bedroom to look for his pack of cigarettes. Tossing clothes to the side and grabbing his bag made it seem like he was leaving. Gaz was so in his head he didn’t see you at the doorway until he heard a small sob.

His head instinctively whipped around to see you, cradling your hand together like it was the only thing keeping you together. “Oh darling.” The two words broke the floodgates, tears pouring down your cheeks. “No no, hey hey, I won’t go smoke,” but the words fell on deaf ears. “Don't take this please. This beautiful thing that we’ve got, I’m sorry. Don’t leave me here! I can’t do it!”

Gaz instantly picked you up and headed to the bed to sit on the side. He knew where this was coming from and it filled him with indescribable rage to the people who made you feel like this in the past. “I would never treat you like that. They were fools.” He gritted out before kissing your forehead. “You’re safe. You’re safe here.”

Ghost knew of your past relationship issues. Before you’d even told him he knew that something had happened previously. He tried to remind himself of this when he was in arguments with you, but sometimes he needed to calm down. He needed to remind himself you weren’t against him.

After experiencing so many issues of people ‘naturally’ siding against him, it’s hard to know that you aren’t those people. Deep down he knows, but he also knows as his hand reaches the cool knob he needs a breather. That was until he felt your hand tug at the back of his jacket. Ghost turned around, eyes widening when you dropped to your knees before him.

If it was anyone else he would have thought it was pathetic, but seeing your hands bunch the jeans on his knees had his heart breaking. “Please please, I’m sorry. I was wrong, I found my mind, I'm feelin' sane. Please stay, I need you.” He doesn’t know what else to do besides kneeling in front of you and tugging you to his chest. “Not going anywhere, love.” And when you curl into him, tears staining his jacket, he knows he needs you as much as you need him.

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | teen | 2.7k | tags: animal shelter workers Eddie and Chrissy, platonic stobin, background buckingham, Idiots to lovers | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is when you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can’t stop thinking about kissing him by @starryeyedjanai | AO3)

This was all Robin's fault, Steve decided as he sneezed violently, his eyes burning and his throat itching. He was just trying to be a good friend to her, supporting her in whatever crazy ideas she had after her breakup with Vicky. Because that's what friends do, right? Support you in your pain and later help you clean up the inevitable mess when you come to your senses.

So when Robin asked him to drive her to the nearest animal shelter, he didn't hesitate.

Okay, maybe for a minute or so, but he quickly caved when she explained that she was clearly doomed to die alone, so she needed to go all in. Become the crazy lesbian cat lady she was so clearly meant to be.

Hence, the animal shelter to acquire said cat.

Steve expected to drive her there, look at some cats, and drive home because some helpful shelter attendant would explain to Robin that getting a cat was a bigger deal than she thought. He expected Robin to be sad and maudlin for a while, but ultimately glad because Steve loves her, but they both know that not even her potted plants survive more than a month.

What Steve didn't expect was to meet the man of his dreams.

They arrived early in the evening because they both had to work, and the shelter was surprisingly less busy than they had expected for that time of day. The waiting area of the Visitor Center was blissfully empty, which was a relief to Steve, who had been dealing with noisy customers all day and could feel a headache coming on.

Meandering up to the registration desk, they were greeted by a perky and really pretty blonde girl. Her name tag read Chrissy and she greeted them with a dazzling smile that Steve couldn't help but notice was directed more at Robin than at him. Either she immediately recognized which one of them was here to get a new pet, or she was smart enough to notice how amazing Steve's best friend was.

Steve hoped for the latter, which meant that instead of a hairy, clawed monster, Robin might be taking home the number of a pretty girl to help her get over her breakup.

"Hi, my name is Chrissy, how can I help you?" the woman chirped, and Steve had to nudge Robin's shoulder because she kept staring at Chrissy instead of answering.

"Oh, uh, hi. I'm Robin, this is Steve. We were looking for a cat." Then, realizing how that sounded, she hastily backtracked. "Or not we as in together, because we're not. That would be gross, he's like my brother. He's just helping me find a cat because he's my best friend, totally platonic with a capital 'P'."

Wow, Steve thought, he hadn't seen Robin ramble like that since before she started dating Vicky two years ago.

Fortunately, Chrissy seemed to find Robin's rambling endearing rather than off-putting, as her smile only brightened at Robin's explanation.

"Oh, you two are so cute. I totally get it. My best friend also works here and people always think we're a couple. Which we definitely are not." Chrissy told them before picking up the phone from her desk. "Speaking of which, I'm going to call him and tell him we have some potential pet owners who want to take a look at our cats."

She dialed a number from memory and it only rang twice before someone apparently picked up. Chrissy explained the situation and asked if they could take a tour before ending the call.

"Eddie will be with you in a few minutes. One of our dogs has taken a special liking to him and is demanding some extra belly scratches. Eddie won't admit it, but this dog has him wrapped around her paw." She laughs fondly at the thought. "Anyway, you can sit over there while you wait."

As they waited, Steve couldn't help but notice that Robin kept looking over to where Chrissy was typing on her computer. He leaned over to whisper, "Maybe you won't die alone with a bunch of cats after all."

Before Robin could answer, someone cleared their throat next to them, startling them both. They whipped around in unison to find a young man standing in front of them, and Steve could feel himself staring, but was unable to stop.

Because Jesus Christ, right in front of him was the prettiest guy Steve had ever seen.

Eddie, Steve guessed, had dark, unruly curls that he wore in a messy bun at the back of his neck, with strands framing his face. He was tall, at least as tall as Steve, maybe an inch or two taller, but more on the slender side, with legs that went on for miles and a tiny waist that Steve was dying to get his hands on. Big, dark, doe eyes looked at them with a friendly expression, and full lips curled into an inviting smile.

Steve was a goner from the start.

"Hi there, you must be why Chrissy called me here. I'm Eddie, nice to meet you," he greeted them, extending his hand to shake theirs. His hand was warm and Steve could feel the calluses on his ringed fingers. It conjured up images in his mind of those fingers wrapped around things other than his hand, dangerous thoughts.

"Hi," Steve squeaked, immediately wanting to put his hand over his mouth. It seemed that smooth had gone out to buy cigarettes and Steve had a suspicion that it wouldn't be back anytime soon.

When Eddie looked at him expectantly, it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize why.

"I'm, um, I'm Steve, and this is Robin, my friend. Best friend. Platonic friend."

Yes, smooth was gone, and it had taken his dignity with it. Great.

Next to him, he could see Robin suppressing a laugh at his flailing, the traitor. This was what he got for trying to be a good friend: Mockery.

Eddie looked like he was suppressing laughter too, but on him it just looked endearing.

"Okay, Steve, Robin. Follow me, to the kittens!" Like a man leading them to war, he marched off, clearly expecting them to follow. Looking at each other in silent agreement, they did.

They passed a large fenced area, and Steve could make out kennels at the far end of it. Following Steve's gaze, Eddie explained, "This is where our dogs stay. Most of them are allowed out during the day in the fenced area you see there, but at night they sleep in their crates."

Eddie leads them to a large, plain-looking house. "This is the cat house. We keep them behind glass walls because the little minxes would definitely climb through the bars and disappear. Come on in."

Inside, they were greeted with the distinct smell of several animals in a rather small space, but Steve was pleasantly surprised that the smell wasn't that bad or intense. Next to him, Robin immediately started cooing at the cats playing on the other side of the windowed rooms, which caused Steve and Eddie to share an indulgent smile.

Eddie was great, showing them all the cats and telling them stories about where they had come from as far as he knew, what they were like, what they liked and disliked, and was clearly very fond of his charges.

Robin and Steve were both hanging on Eddie's lips, but for very different reasons. For while Robin soaked up every word Eddie said, Steve soaked up every tiny movement of that pretty, pretty mouth, imagining how it would feel pressed against his. He kept nodding along, humming his agreement here and there, sometimes saying "yeah" or "definitely," as if he could hear any of their conversation instead of dreaming of kissing Eddie senseless.

That's the only explanation he has for why, after maybe thirty minutes of looking at cute cats, Steve and Robin both ended up with cats in their arms while Eddie prepared the adoption papers. At some point, Steve must have agreed to adopt a little fur ball, and now Eddie was all excited and happy, bouncing up and down as he explained that they were hoping to find a home for this set of siblings where they could still see each other. Apparently, Steve and Robin had promised to bring them together to play whenever possible.

"You can't believe how cool this is, we had almost given up hope that they would find someone. Chrissy and I had even discussed doing it ourselves, but Cerberus, my dog, doesn't like cats, and Chrissy didn't want to take two cats at once. But she loves Buttercup, so maybe she can visit her sometime? I know she would love that," Eddie adds with a wink in Steve's direction, and Steve begins to feel lightheaded. "And to be honest, I wouldn't mind seeing Buttercup and Tornado again either."

Was Eddie saying what Steve hoped? Robin seemed to think so, because she perked up immediately. "Oh, you two could come over this weekend and see how they are settling in. Since Steve and I are neighbors, it would be easy to visit them both on the same day."

And that's how Steve ended up with a tabby cat in his house and the worst allergic reaction he's had since Joyce brought home a stray cat while Steve was over for dinner and some cat hair got into his food.

When he knocked on Robin's door the next morning, Steve felt terrible, not only because his sinuses were shot to hell and his mucous membranes were rebelling, but because he felt like he was letting Eddie down. He knew he was allergic, but when he realized what he had unwittingly agreed to, he felt so stupid and pathetic that he didn't want to back out and explain why he hadn't said anything before.

"Steve, oh my God, you look awful! What happened?" Robin greeted him as she opened the door with Buttercup curled up in her arms. The cat was purring like crazy and Steve was happy to see that at least one of them was doing well with the whole pet adoption thing.

" I might have forgotten to tell you that I'm allergic to cats?" Steve said in a thick, congested voice. To be fair, he thought it wouldn't be an issue because he was so sure Robin wouldn't go through with adopting a cat. Or that he would.

"You're what? Steve! You just adopted a cat. What did you think was going to happen?"

Fair point. It looked like coming clean was his only real option here. It's not like Robin hadn't done stupid things when she had a crush on a girl, okay?

"I didn't want to adopt a cat! Hell, I never thought you would go through with it either, but I certainly never planned on bringing one home myself. I thought we'd get there, talk to one of the attendants, then go home and sleep on it and you'd realize you didn't really want a cat and we'd never go back."

Robin looked extremely unimpressed with him now, and even Buttercup had stopped purring and was looking at him with one eye half open.

"So what happened to change your mind?"

"Eddie," Steve said in a low voice.

"I beg your pardon?" She had heard him, but she made him say it again.

Steve sighed and repeated in a louder voice, "Eddie happened. I didn't even know what he was talking about because I was distracted by his mouth. I didn't realize what was happening until it was too late and I didn't want to disappoint him."

"You're such a Dingus, Dingus." Robin thankfully didn't sound angry or mocking, just exasperated and fond. "So what do we do now?"

"Keep the cat and hope it doesn't kill me?" Steve tried, already knowing that wasn't the answer she was looking for.

"Steve."

"Robin."

Putting Buttercup down and grabbing her keys from the small table next to her, Robin stepped forward and closed the door behind her. With a reassuring hand on Steve's shoulder, she said firmly, "Listen, we have to get Tornado back. You look like you're going to keel over any minute."

"But Eddie -"

"Wouldn't want you to die either. He looked at your ass way too much to want you dead."

That made Steve perk up. "He did?"

Smiling indulgently at him, Robin nodded. "He did. So let's get you cleaned up and pick up some allergy meds on the way to the shelter."

That's exactly what they did, and by the time they got there, Steve was feeling a little better. Tornado was in his crate in the back seat, strapped down, and when Robin took him out of the car, Steve's heart broke a little at the sight of him. He really wished it wouldn't literally kill him to have Tornado living with him.

Chrissy greeted them as cheerfully as yesterday, if a little more confused.

"Hey Robin. Steve. What brings you back, is everything okay with Buttercup and Tornado?"

Explaining the situation to Chrissy would have been bad enough, but Eddie had to choose this exact moment to walk by and see them. He walked over to them, greeted Steve with a warm and dimpled smile, and Steve had half a mind to just tell Robin 'never mind' and go back home to his slow death by asphyxiation.

He would have done just that if Robin had not known him too well. When Eddie asked the same thing as Chrissy, she walked over to Eddie and gently placed Tornado's box in his hands. "Steve had a bad allergic reaction to him this morning."

It warmed Steve's heart that Eddie's first reaction was genuine concern. He took a step toward Steve before remembering that he was holding the cause of Steve's condition.

Setting the box on the floor, he closed the distance between them and placed a hand on Steve's arm.

"Oh God, are you okay, Steve?"

"Yeah, I'm fine now, we picked up some meds on the way and they've already kicked in."

Eddie's thumb traced his shoulder under his shirt and he wasn't sure if the lightheaded feeling was a lingering effect of his allergic reaction or just the way he was reacting to Eddie.

"So you didn't know you were allergic?" Eddie asked and Robin snorted beside them.

"Oh, he did," she muttered, and Steve wanted to kill her. The impulse intensified when Eddie raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"Um, well, yeah. I kind of knew?" It sounded like a question, and Eddie's eyebrows had completely disappeared beneath his bangs. "I just didn't say anything," Steve added, aware that he was digging a deep, deep grave for his dignity if it ever came back from getting cigarettes with his smoothness.

"But why?" Eddie sounded genuinely confused, and Steve couldn't blame him. Saying it like that made him sound a little crazy.

"I was... distracted and only realized what I had agreed to when it was too late. You were so excited and happy that I couldn't bring myself to tell you that it was all just a small misunderstanding."

Even now Steve couldn't help but stare at Eddie's pretty and very kissable lips as he said this. Maybe he should see a doctor about this.

Or maybe not, because it almost seemed like Eddie was looking right back at Steve's now. "Distracted by what?" he asked, suddenly even closer than before, his eyes still on Steve's mouth. When did this happen?

Licking his lips impulsively, Steve felt a thrill run through his body at the way Eddie's eyes darkened as they followed the movement of his tongue.

"By...you," he admitted softly. "Your lips. They are very distracting."

A dimple winked at him as Eddie smiled at his words. "Are they?"

"Yeah.'"

They were so close now, breathing the same air as they talked, and Steve could feel Eddie's words as much as he heard them.

"Yours too, you know?" Eddie replied and why were they still talking?

Without thinking, Steve closed the last few inches between them and kissed the lips that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. He was willing to forgive Eddie, though, because by God the man could kiss, his lips as soft and supple as they looked, and his tongue warm and wet as it skillfully licked into his mouth.

They only broke apart at the sound of two people clearing their throats in unison.

Maybe Steve wouldn't take a cat home after all, but something told him he'd get something better to keep.

[isacksteban]

Undead — Pedroscar

Oscar is honestly beginning to regret every decision that’s led him up to this moment.

He knows why he let himself be talked into going to a scare park this year, but he’s having a hard time keeping it in mind the longer he’s there. The thing is, he usually doesn’t scare so easily. His boyfriend loves horror movies and supernatural-type shows, and they’ve watched plenty of them together.

When he’s living in a moment straight out of one, though? It’s a little different.

The Undead Outbreak walkthrough is killer; he’ll give them that. He’d lost his friends a little ways in, going opposite directions in the maze. Stupidly, Oscar is now left alone, no one to cling to, bracing himself for whatever jump scare comes at him next. The strobe lights and fog machines make it hard to tell what’s a person and what’s a prop, but he’s doing his best.

Rounding a corner, Oscar finds himself at a fork in the walkway. From what he can tell, one way is slightly better lit than the other — meaning that’s probably the better option, probably leads to somewhere he actually wants to be. Still, he hesitates a beat, squinting toward the darker passageway. He thinks he can make out what’s meant to be a door a ways down, blocked off with yellow caution tape that reads ‘do not open’ in bold letters, splattered with fake blood.

More than likely a dead end. There’s got to be a zombie lurking in the shadows down there, waiting for an unsuspecting victim to launch themselves at.

Oscar turns to face the way he’d just come from, debating whether or not it’s wise to backtrack and find more of a crowd to follow. Just so he knows he’s potentially going the right way instead of either of these new ones. He’s not having an easy time figuring it out on his own. Safety in numbers, or whatever, even if none of this is real.

Before he can commit to a decision, however, there’s a hand clasping at the back of his sweatshirt, tugging.

He’s not embarrassed to admit that he lets out a pathetically scared yelp, trying to squirm away from the firm hold. The snarl of a zombie is uncomfortably close to his ear as he’s towed toward the blocked-off door at the dead end’s walkway.

Logically, Oscar recalls a reminder from earlier in the day that the scare actors aren’t supposed to touch the guests. Unfortunately, the logical part of his brain isn’t firing on all cylinders as he’s being dragged through a horror maze he can barely see clearly in.

He’s shoved back into the wall, a forearm barred across his chest to pin him there. It takes him a moment, maybe two, to adjust to the dimmer flashes of light in this area. Then he recognizes what’s happened; familiarity in the zombie’s dark curls and sharp jaw, even painted with false blood and rot, filmy contacts blocking out grey irises.

“Hi, amor.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Oscar wheezes, thunking his head back against the wall.

Pedro laughs, snapping his teeth playfully at him. “Told you I’d find you.”

“Almost gave me a heart attack, you cunt.”

Oscar tosses his boyfriend’s arm away from his chest, but makes a grab at the collar of Pedro’s tattered costume shirt instead. Before he can pull him in fully, he pauses, hazel eyes flickering over the gash at Pedro’s hairline, the couple of zombie bites along his neck. Oscar brushes his thumb along the edge of the prosthetic piece at the exposed juncture of Pedro’s neck and shoulder, nose wrinkling faintly.

“These look so real,” he comments.

“Kind of the point,” Pedro chuckles. “I can give you one if you want.”

Oscar snorts, eyes rolling good-naturedly now that his racing heart has started to slow down. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” Pedro leans forward to close the few inches between them, catching Oscar’s lower lip between his teeth and pulling at it.

When it snaps back into place, Oscar breathes in shallowly, muttering, “Baby, you’re at work.”

“I’m bored. Hardly anyone’s come down this way.” Pedro curls both hands at his hips, shifts to slot one leg between both of Oscar’s thighs, pressing until Oscar lets out a soft groan. Nosing along the line of his jaw, Pedro hums, “Best case, even if they do, they’ll just think you work here too, and that I’m eating you.”

“Interesting choice of words,” Oscar exhales, half a laugh.

“That might be a little more obvious, I’m afraid,” Pedro mutters into the side of his neck. He kisses gently along the soft skin for a moment, Oscar’s head lolling to the side to give him more room.

“Have to wait until we’re home, then.”

“Mm, can do this in the meantime, though.” Without further preamble, Pedro bites down, digging his teeth in in a way that toes the line between pain and pleasure.

Oscar gasps when Pedro sucks harshly at the bitten skin, inevitably leaving a mark behind. The grip at his hips tightens, guiding Oscar to rock forward against the thigh pressed to the growing bulge in the front of his jeans. Pedro drags his lips an inch downward, sucking another mark into pale skin just below the first. Oscar continues rolling his hips forward on instinct, digging his fingers in on either side of Pedro’s ribs.

“Pedro—” Oscar cuts off on a breathless moan when Pedro slips a hand into his back pocket, palming at his ass and pushing him forward still. “Baby, I’ve still got to walk out of here.”

“Plenty of time to walk it off,” Pedro mumbles against his skin.

Oscar hisses, hips jerking forward, when Pedro sinks his teeth in again, a third mark sucked in a straight line down the side of Oscar’s neck. One of his hands lifts, sinking his fingers into familiar silky brunette tufts of hair at the back of Pedro’s head and tugging slightly.

“Not really my dick still being hard that I’m worried about,” Oscar manages on a winded chuckle; it tapers off into another moan after the fact.

Pedro hums lowly, then licks a broad stripe up the trail of bruises he’s left behind, nipping at the line of Oscar’s slightly stubbled jaw. Despite what he’s just warned, it’s Oscar that chases Pedro’s lips, tilting forward to kiss him slow, sucking his lower lip between his own teeth. He doesn’t bite the same way Pedro has been, slipping his tongue beyond Pedro’s teeth instead. Moaning loud and lewd into his mouth when Pedro shifts to give even more pressure where Oscar continues to rut against the thigh between his legs.

It’s dangerous, playing this game. They’re where Pedro works. They’re in public. Not to mention that, by all accounts, Oscar probably shouldn’t feel as attracted to Pedro as he does on any normal day while Pedro looks like he came out of a grave.

Still, his hips rock in a continuous, fluid motion against his boyfriend’s thigh. Chasing a high that he can’t think past the static in his head just yet to realize he can’t properly deal with as needed at present. Coming in his pants like a teenager is not exactly easily handled in the current setting. He still has to walk out of here, maybe with a little dignity left, if he can manage it.

His brain and body don’t seem terribly concerned with that, however, because he doesn’t stop. He continues to ride the slim thigh that offers his aching cock a delicious friction. Pedro’s other hand snakes into the back of Oscar’s hair, fingernails scraping along his scalp as they drag through his shallow waves. They both moan into the twist of their tongues when Oscar squeezes tight at Pedro’s waist, hips moving faster for a brief moment.

They both need to breathe at this point — cheeks heated pink, labored inhales and exhales shared, Oscar so close to cuming he can practically feel it in his damn teeth. Pedro inches back first, panting shakily between slick lips. His lips trail up Oscar’s jaw until Pedro reaches his ear, grazing his teeth at the lobe. Oscar shudders, taking in an equally shaking breath between parted lips.

“Pedro, baby, fuck. I—”

“Straight down that way, two lefts, then a right,” Pedro murmurs right in his ear.

Oscar blinks his eyes open dazedly, the flash of strobe light above them further dizzying. “What?”

Abruptly, Pedro cuts all contact with him; hands falling and a large step taken backward, the thigh between Oscar’s gone. And it’s a downright wounded noise that slips past his lips as soon as it happens.

Pedro inclines his head in the opposite direction from the current dead end they stand near when Oscar gawks at him in question. “The way out.”

Oscar wheezes out a loud laugh, head lolling back and forth. “You’re actually the fucking worst, you know that?”

“Oh, I know, cariño,” Pedro coos tauntingly, shiny and reddened lips curled in a smirk.

The fake blood around his mouth is smeared even more than it already was, meaning there’s some mingling with the fresh bruises on Oscar’s neck, probably around his mouth, too, all things considered. Oscar may look like he really was mauled by a zombie.

He takes a couple of slow, deep breaths, trying to steady his racing heart and ease the tension humming through his veins like electricity. Every muscle in his body feels charged, thrumming with an ache that refuses to dissipate. His legs are shaky as he shifts his stance, subtly adjusting his current predicament in his jeans, though he’s well aware there’s no hiding it. Pedro’s lips quirk up in a knowing smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Oscar steps forward, bridging the small distance between them, his fingers reaching up to gently catch Pedro’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. The touch is intimate, possessive, filled with unspoken promises. His voice is rough, still breathless from the tension between them. “I’ll see you at home.”

Pedro, always quick with a teasing retort, snaps his teeth playfully, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Can’t wait,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a wicked smile that makes Oscar’s pulse race all over again.

Oscar lingers for just a second longer, the temptation to pull Pedro back into him almost too strong to resist. But he knows they can’t continue here, not now. With a soft sigh, he pulls back, his hand slipping away from Pedro’s chin. He takes one last steadying breath, forcing himself to remember that they’ll have all the time they need once they’re home — far away from the strobe lights and haunted maze, and definitely without the threat of being interrupted.

But as Oscar walks away, his body still thrumming with need, he can’t help but throw one last glance over his shoulder. Pedro’s eyes are locked on him, dark and filled with heat, a promise of what’s to come later hanging between them like a palpable force.

Oscar grins to himself, his pace quickening slightly as he heads toward the exit, anticipation already building once more. There’s no denying it — Pedro has him wrapped around his finger, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[stardroptasteslikesocialism]

Say it Ain't So part 2

Part One here

Gator tries to make things right and keep you safe.

Content: manchild!gator tillman x teacher!reader, canon appropriate violence, one use of a slur, pregnancy, guns, angst with a little fluff sprinkled in.

Gator stayed awake until sunrise.

Of course, being tasked with sticking a corpse in a truck and then running said truck into a ditch by himself took most of the night.

As he stood by the elementary school crosswalk, eyes bloodshot, the lids heavy with exhaustion, he felt his heart skip a beat when he noticed you weren't in your usual spot by the front door. His mind immediately assumed the worst.

He got you, too.

Before the panic settled in, Gator grabbed his phone from his back pocket.

Hey, you ok?

He heaved a sigh of relief when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Took a sick day. Spent the morning hurling.

A pang of guilt racked his chest as he wrapped up drop-off duty. As if on auto-pilot, the squad car made its way to a small, modest yellow house littered with burnt orange and red leaves. Gator attempted to steel his nerves before giving your door his usual quick, loud knock. He sucked in a breath when he heard your deadbolts and locks clicking.

When the door crept open, Gator held back a wince. You stood before him, eyes just as bloodshot, and your skin an alarming pallor. He'd never seen you so - disheveled; your college hoodie hung limply off your shoulders, unzipped to reveal a plain white tank top, and sweatpants sat loose around your hips.

He also couldn't help noticing your boobs were definitely bigger, but he had to quickly suppress those thoughts.

"God, you look like hell," Gator quietly muttered as he took in the full sight of you.

"Gee, thanks," you deadpanned with an eye roll, "y'know, you're not looking so hot either, Tillman."

"No! Shit, sorry. That came out wrong," he quickly backtracked, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I meant, like, are you okay? Now? To talk?"

"Oh, now you wanna talk?" you quipped, leaning against your doorframe.

"Yeah, now I wanna-" Gator cut himself off and took a quick breath, "Look, I'm sorry I left when I did."

"You shouldn't have left at all," you snapped, arms crossing your chest.

"Jesus, I-" Gator paused, "I don't wanna turn this into a fight, alright? It's just one of my guys is dead, now. Had to tell his fiancee this morning that he wasn't comin' home. Scared the shit outta me, because that could've been me, but by some stroke of luck, it wasn't."

Your eyes welled up with tears as they glanced up at Gator's.

"My job isn't just watching ankle-biters cross the street every day, y'know? I deal with dangerous shit. A lot of it. And I guess - I guess I'm just scared."

Gator looked up at the overcast sky; a vain attempt to keep tears from falling. He could hear Roy's voice bellowing in his head.

Quit that crying. Crying's for girls and queers. I won't have a crybaby son.

"I'm scared I won't be good enough. I don't know what you see in me, but I know all Roy sees when he looks at me is a failure."

"Stop," You quietly silenced him with your steps on your front porch, "Stop doing that to yourself."

Gator looked down at you confused.

"You always hold yourself to standards your father set. What Roy wants you to do; how Roy wants you to act. You are a grown man still fighting for your dad to be proud of you. But you know what I think? I think nothing's ever going to please Roy Tillman. You could do everything he asks of you, and it still wouldn't be good enough. Because Roy doesn't care about you. He only cares about himself."

You cupped Gator's jaw with your hand, "He doesn't see what I do. I see a man who cares so much about the people around him. I see someone who has spent years raised by a man who wanted power so badly, he put his son through hell to get it. Someone who's seen unspeakable things that no child should have to. And despite that, I see someone who wants to do the right thing. He just doesn't know what that is yet."

Gator stood overwhelmed by the outpouring of emotions in his head. The only thing he could think to do was wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in.

"The fact that you're so worried about being a good father already makes you one," you said, leaning into his chest, "I'm not saying it'll be easy, or fun all the time. But I've always had faith in you. This is our chance to finally break the Tillman cycle. You'll have me every step of the way."

The two of you stood there in silence; you, soaking in the warmth of Gator's arms around you. Gator let your words of encouragement soak in.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" You finally asked, looking into Gator's exhausted gaze. He swallowed and shook his head.

"Me neither," you admitted. You quietly took Gator's hand and guided him inside, "I think we both need a nap. This kid already has me up all night."

For the first time in over 24 hours, Gator cracked a smile.

"Hey, don't blame Gator Junior. He doesn't know any better!"

That caused a snort and eye roll to escape you.

"First of all, we don't know if they're a boy. And second, you have lost your mind if you think we're calling the baby Gator Junior."

"Aw, but it sounds awesome," Gator wined, "And trust me, giving you this much grief already is classic Tillman boy behavior. Just get ready to replace some windows. If he's anything like his old man, there'll be a lot of footballs through 'em."

"Oh, shut up and go take a shower," you scoffed, shooing him upstairs, "I can smell you from here."

"Aw, don't wanna join?" Gator teased as he pulled his shirt over his head.

You turned a light shade of green at the thought, "Not unless you want me to get sick again."

Gator shrugged, "Suit yourself."

A squeal escaped your lips when he tossed his sweat-and-dirt-soaked shirt at you, "God, you're awful!"

Gator laughed before pausing for a brief second.

"Could you help me with this-" he asked, awkwardly holding his cast up,

"Yes, I'll help cover your cast," you quickly replied.

[asherlockstudy]

I 100% agree with you that he added the whole poly piece to add a sense of levity after his "you're going to break two relationships" because it was widely Unhinged and obvious. For a second it felt like the roles have shifted and he's slowly is becoming the one who speaks before he thinks, either that or something paramount has happened between the two of them that got him not to care anymore and is adamant to throw some hints here and there about the two possibly having consummated their relationship 💏

Do you think he meant Link with that "don't trust people who don't channel their darkness like horror movies in relationships "? Because Link has an inner pyscho 😂

Oh Anon you are opening such a big can of worms for me now. Look, I have so many opinions on what is happening between them and they often feel more like convictions.

He 100% meant Link. We know Link hates horror movies. There is no other person to really dislike horror movies in Rhett’s life that we know of. Let alone that it was oddly peculiar of Rhett to say that.

Generally, Rhett is not above slipping. He has done it on multiple occasions: in the late Larry King’s show he was such a bigmouth he gave Link a heart attack at least thrice, for example. Another time, it was Rhett who revealed they always dreamed to have a threesome with a woman and Link nearly hid under the GMM desk. Or the “I get aroused in hurricanes, love is love” one?! All this is pure unadulterated Rhett stupidity.

Here is the difference though. Whenever Rhett slips, it is out of emotion or stupidity or the surge of excitement. I know this might seem very counterintuitive to you, but when it comes to the relationship between them Link doesn’t slip nowhere near as often. 90% of the rhinky stuff Link does is intentional. Link didn’t imply Rhink stuff accidentally. When he kissed Rhett on the head, when he held him tenderly in his arms, when he slowly stroked the chocolate cereal from his face, when he literally said to Rhett “oh you can move that fast” in sex and then leisurely slurped his lollipop, or the freaking year of the Twink, when he was crawling on Rhett’s feet, straddling him or repeatedly talking about his bidet and his rosebud, none of this was accidental. They were all slow moments, offering thus the time for Link to backtrack which he never did. And many of these moments were repeated, which means they were not accidental moments in time. Link wants to out them.

Which is why Rhett is scared of Link. In fact, you can see the fear on his face sometimes. And he is angry at him. “At least my slip-ups are out of stupidity, you do it on purpose!”. Rhett is not angry at Link for wanting out, but for knowingly playing with fire and without Rhett’s consent. Rhett is trying to restrain Link for quite some time. It was even implied in a recent EB, when Rhett said that if he died first, he was concerned what Link would say in public after staying alone alive. It’s also why Rhett doesn’t drink as much as Link in GMEs. He is very afraid of Link and what he can do, especially if his last inhibitions are removed by alcohol.

Now the interesting thing is that Link too is sometimes horrified when Rhett slips (out of stupidity). It’s like they can never meet in their handling of this problem. However there are also times after Rhett has slipped, when Link puts him on the spot even more instead of trying to cover it up. But in general I think that even though Link wants out, when it’s Rhett spiralling out of control and catches him off guard, he too has a wake up call and gets scared, albeit less than Rhett.

In this occasion, Rhett’s slip-up was a mix of emotion (anger) and poor judgement (stupidity). He was angry at Link for the aforementioned reasons and he tried to pass a “coded” message to him, but he totally miscalculated how badly coded it was. It basically was hardly coded at all.

After writing all this, I am pretty sure I don’t need to write where I stand about whether they have consummated their relationship. I have been implying things for years but I was kinda scared to do it, but honestly the people who see my posts are like 8 globally at most and as I am growing older I don’t really care if someone clutches their pearls at this. Honestly, nobody sees this and it’s just my conviction after all. It can be wrong. I don’t think it is 😅 but it can be.

[taromilksnake]

10:29pm spent xmas with anthony’s family

and it was fun and a lot more casual than anticipated! almost anticlimactic, but i had fun being an a new space with new people

7:12am

passed out last night. good job me got deciding to go to bed and not overextend myself

kinda sad, uneasy b/c julia and sherry are away (emotionally, physically respectively). also feeling like i have nothing going and that break will just breeze by. not true, there’s lots of home decor to do and sewing i can start for one, but it’s just a matter if i relax enough. if nothing else not having to work will do me good (not everything has to do my good, either)

anyway, as i meant to do last night:

“I can set aside my pride to communicate with the people i love” [in reference to julia wanting me to downplay my enthusiasm]

“That sounds insane to me” / “Maybe you shouldn’t (have to) do that”

“I was about to say some CNC type shit, but decided against it b/c we haven’t talked about that”

“Enough messing around. I need to get some toys because I want you to fuck me already” [when i offer to use my fingers] “I want you to thrust” (LOL)

[me clarifying “in-laws”] “Your family is my in-laws” (then getting embarrassed and backtracking, haha)

i forgot(!!) to say that after anthony helped me move my couch (he gave input on how to move it, said that we could take several breaks, chucked his jacket on the floor lol, said that he thought it would take hours, later agreed that it was anticipated to be stressful but can be handled) we had a luxurious cuddle/sex session for a few hours. it was cozy and romantic more than anything. it got the most intense when he fingered and went down on me at the same time, and i tapped out b/c i got too overstimulated. i appreciate him pointing it out b/c he did scratch me down there and i’m feeling some soreness and discomfort for it. i’m hoping hoping it’s not my stupid period coming back (i’m peeved that the prescription runs out like that, and it wasn’t even the nurse practitioner that mentioned the bridge prescription. oh well)

[freezethebeez]

Catalyst Epilogue Snippet :]

Sorry for being gone for so long! Things haven't been crazy at all, I've just been lazy.

Tonight, I've managed to open the epilogue doc and get some writing done, and to apologize for my absence, I present to you a small, fluffy sniblet.

(The epilogue is still in a very, very rough state. Edits are to ensue, just at a later date.)

-

Tubbo hums along to the tune of the song playing from his phone as he washes the dishes. 

Dinner was fine. Tubbo had his meal while Ranboo sat across from him sipping on a coffee made with half-coffee, half-blood. He says that the caffeine doesn’t really affect him, but he notes liking the smell and taste of it, and Tubbo sure as hell doesn’t mind brewing him some at seven in the evening (he also doesn’t mind the fact that he now has a drawer in his fridge dedicated to bags of blood). 

Now Tubbo prepares for bed while Ranboo does… whatever the hell Ranboo does. Look, Tubbo’s not going to be up their ass all the time. Tubbo’s typically pretty clingy, sure, but the novelty of having Ranboo around all the time wore off a while ago. Like, a whole ass living accommodation ago. 

The drain of Tubbo’s sink drinks down the dirty, soapy water, making a horrible gurgling noise as it does so. He flicks off the extra drops of water from his hands, and goes to reach for a towel hanging off the handle of the oven, but is met with a surprise. 

Ranboo is a tall guy. Really tall. Completely towers over Tubbo. So when Tubbo looks at Ranboo, he’s used to looking up— not down. And he’s certainly not used to seeing Ranboo on one knee either. 

And definitely not holding a velvet box that’s been pried open to reveal two rings inside. 

“Tubbo,” Ranboo starts, and it’s not until he hears it in their voice that Tubbo realizes how much Ranboo is shaking, “I-I know you’re, like, aromantic and— and everything, but I think you’re really cool and— I kind of really like you, a-and stuff, so— do you wanna marry me?” 

Tubbo is speechless. He’s standing stock still with a fucking tea towel in his hand, eyes wide as ever. 

“It could just be for tax purposes if you—”

“No, Ranboo, I—” Tubbo says, and he doesn’t think he’s ever watched someone’s heart shatter in real time until now— until he realizes how poorly he’s just phrased that, and he quickly begins to backtrack, “No, what I mean to say is yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Ranboo, but I— gods, just stand up already, it’s weird looking down at you.” 

Ranboo complies, rising back to his feet again, causing Tubbo’s head to tilt upwards, the familiar dull ache in his neck comfortably settling back in. 

With the rings a little closer to his face now, Tubbo takes a moment to get a close look at them. 

They appear completely normal from the outside— just two, matching, golden bands— but as Tubbo draws near, he notices something. 

A small, thin streak of red in the middle of one of them. The other is merely engraved with Tubbo’s birthday written in long, curly numbers. 

Odd.

“So which one’s for me?” Tubbo asks. He has a feeling the red one would be his, because it wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense to have an engagement ring with his own birthday on it, but one could never be too sure. 

“O-oh, uh, this one,” Ranboo replies, frantically fiddling with the pair and nearly dropping one of them in the process. Eventually, his fingers find the one with the thin red line through the middle, presenting it to Tubbo. 

Tubbo instinctively lifts his hand, allowing Ranboo to slide the ring onto his finger. Tubbo’s not entirely sure how proposals are supposed to go, but he’s had enough movie marathons with Tommy to know the gist of how they’re meant to work— and this feels mostly right, save for the fact that they’re not standing at the top of a mountain with a breathtaking view (the kitchen, however, works just fine, in Tubbo’s humble opinion). 

“Awesome,” Tubbo beams, lifting his hand up, fingers outstretched, eyes adjusting to the new image of the back of his hand, now featuring a ring. He doesn’t take too long admiring the view, thankfully, saving Ranboo from crumbling into a nervous wreck by taking the other ring in their hand and sliding it onto their finger as well. 

“Just curious,” Tubbo asks, taking Ranboo’s hand into his own, eyes fixated on the matching ring on the snow white half of Ranboo’s body, “what’s the red shit in mine?” 

Ranboo snorts. “You really have such a— such a way with words, Tubbo,” they say.

“Aren’t you glad to be stuck with them for the rest of my life?” 

“Your life?” Ranboo questions Tubbo’s word choice. 

“Yeah, my life,” Tubbo replies, not missing a beat. “I mean, unless you plan on dying soon, you’re probably going to outlive me. And, like, by a lot, right?” 

“Oh…” Ranboo’s shoulders sag. In fact, every single part of him seems to droop. “Right,” they mumble. 

“Sorry,” Tubbo apologizes, giving Ranboo’s hands a light squeeze, “sensitive topic, I guess.” 

Ranboo shrugs, “Not really. I’m just… I don’t like to think about it.” 

“Makes sense.” Tubbo nods and sniffles. “Anyways, what was I on about?” 

“The red stuff.”

“Right! The red shit.” A smile finds its way back to Ranboo’s face, tension in the air dissipating like the sun breaking through the fog in the morning. “What the hell is it?” 

“It’s my blood.” And Ranboo says it with such nonchalance. So deadpan and straight to the point that Tubbo nearly mistakes it for the weather. 

When Tubbo first met Ranboo, he thought the guy was, like, actively afraid of blood, or something. First ever vampire to have hemophobia— something ironic like that. Ranboo refused to even say the word for the longest time, so for them to not only say it, but also put some of it— some of their own into their engagement rings, it’s— 

Well Tubbo might just cry. 

But first, he has questions that need answers. 

“You can bleed?!” Tubbo exclaims. 

“Wh— of course I can? What kind of question is that?” 

“A damn good one. I didn’t know vampires could fucking bleed. I didn’t even know they had blood in them!” Ranboo’s eyes go wide. “Oh my gods, is that why you need to drink mine—”

“Tubbo, no. No, that’s— that’s not it at all,” Ranboo corrects. “I should— I should really teach you some vampire biology, or something, gods.” 

“Listen, okay, don’t make me look like an idiot here,” Tubbo defends. “They don’t teach this shit in school, alright? Maybe the basics, but that’s it. The only thing I knew about vampires is that they existed and they drank blood. Nothing more.” 

“Please tell me you know more than that now.” 

“Of course I do! I know that you guys sleep all day, you’re only up at night, and you’ve never seen the sun.” 

Ranboo stares blankly at him. “You just said the same thing, like, three times.” 

“Whatever, dude.” Tubbo rolls his eyes. “Catch me up to speed then. I’ve got spoons to dry.”

[queenharumiura]

🎂 + is there anything she never wants to admit really bothers her?

Today is the day I celebrate Haru because of her shorthand (86) and I'll answer any questions. [x] ||Accepting|| @parallelroutes

She doesn’t really want to bother much of anything that bothers her on a personal level, but there is one thing she really doesn’t ever want to touch upon and again, it’s about Tsuna. Such a reoccurring theme in these asks AHAHAAHAH.

She can’t ever speak about how she feels hurt about things because it shifts dynamics. She can’t speak to the guardians about it because—I mean—he is their leader. She can speak a bit about it to her friends, but it is a bit--- yanno? With Kyoko? She wouldn’t want anyone to necessarily feel guilty when they realize just how much she hurts from this.

At the end of the day, she knows it’s her fault. She only has herself to blame. She knows that he likes another person, one of he really good friends. She should’ve realized that no matter what she does, he’s not going to look at her, and it’s her fault for wanting to try anyways, and a lot of that is because of the way she was raised—to not give up and keep trying until you’ve exhausted all options. Then you can confidently say “I’ve tried by best and it didn’t work out.”

So, when she does finally move on from him, she feels content in knowing that she did absolutely all that she could’ve to have him see her. To notice her. There is quite frankly no room for regret for her because she really did try her best.

The only thing is that she regrets how much it ended up hurting her. Her self-confidence, her pride in herself. She’s learned to hate herself a little bit for the uglier side of things like feeling jealous and the like.

It’s not Kyoko’s fault that Tsuna liked her. It’s not his fault for liking Kyoko either. She does however, dislike how when she would do some weird things like dress up as a Miko for hospital visits and other things, Tsuna was very quick to rebuke her weird ideas, but Kyoko would always step in for her defense. She’s a great friend. It’s really a ‘but I’m here too doing the same thing? Don’t just give Haru that attitude when I’m here too. She was trying to cheer everyone up.’

Then Tsuna usually backtracked to be like oh no no, I like it! Thanks! It really had a way of showing Haru where she stood and that hurt SO BADLY. She never wants to admit how that made her feel and how it made her sometimes want to resent Kyoko in that moment and that’s where some of the self-hatred comes from because that’s no reason to dislike Kyoko- her friend.

It’s not her fault. This is where I say Haru has a very logical side to her as much as she has an emotional side. If she was all emotional, she would’ve stopped being friends with Kyoko and grow to hate her, but that never happened. They remained steadfast friends.

Haru really said, I’m not about to hate my friend over a guy. Not over something that’s not even in her control.

She’d hate to specifically mention things like that because it would make Kyoko feel bad—and Haru would rather die than to be a source of her friend hurting. Haru cares so much about other people and she cares more for them than she does about her. It speaks volumes to the fact that if it came down to it on the bridge, she was willing to fall to her death if it meant Tsuna and Lambo could live. Haru truly cares so deeply about others, and it would hurt her more to have someone die with her or what have you.

She’s pretty impulsive when it comes to her loved ones, so she honestly wouldn’t even think if it came down to her knowing that someone could live on with her sacrifice. She’s a coward, but she’s always shown a lot of courage when it came to protecting others.

There are things she may never get closure for because she doesn’t want to hurt others and she’s okay with that- and it kills me, it really does.

[uglypastels]

Twilight AU

a/n - Here is a little Twilight au headcanon blurby thing I wrote once with vampire!Eddie. Didn't plan to post it but @peetahpahkah convinced me, so here ya go.

Word count: idk i wrote this in the notes app.

Warnings: none? Tension. Vampire!au and twilight

[Timeline wise, I think it would be the most fun if it was post events of s4, but that it would not be canonically eddie's timeline, so maybe he was a first time senior in s4. Now it's 2 years later and he's in his 3rd attempt at graduating. This will lead to same inconsistencies with the canon but just... work with me here.]

The first day at school

• So you move to Hawkins to move in with one of your divorced parents. And its a big adjustment, moving from a big city to Middle-of-Nowhere, Indiana. But it seems nice enough?

• At school, a girl named Chrissy Cunningham, a senior herself as well, shows you around the school. She's extremely sweet and very helpful.

• At lunch time, she tries to give you the overlook of everyone at school (thats where x sits, thats y's table, etc.) When he walks in.

• You notice him immediately, how could you not. A stark contrast to literally anybody there, his big smile absolutely captivating. Beautiful, and yet- you noticed how everybody glared at him. Quick glances, as if they had a lot to say about the guy, but were too scared to actually say it.

• So you ask Chrissy, watching him make his way to a table, also noticing the people around him, all wearing matching "hellfire club" tshirts, whatever that meant.

• Chrissy is a bit apprehensive. "Oh, that's uhm, that's Eddie Munson." And she goes on to explain how he's the leader of the DnD club, bit of a scary guy actually, dangerous even. "He was absolutely fine at first. I talked to him once in sophomore year, he was already a senior then and uhmm- yeah, but then over that spring break, i dont know, something changed. He came back and was like, totally different."

• "Different how?"

• "I cant really explain it" and thats that on the conversation, but something told you that chrissy's initial meeting with eddie had left a mark on her, for she couldn't stop looking over in his direction.  [a/n - basically, she is 2 years younger but just has a one sided crush, no big deal, and now she's 18 anyway so who cares.]

• You cant blame Chrissy though, as you cant keep your eyes off him either. Its like a magnetic force that pulls you to him. And then when he catches your gaze, across the dining hall but you could tell he was looking at you- his eyes practically locked woth yours- your blood ran cold.

• The period after lunch, you get a bit lost (new confusing building and all), but manage to walk into the classroom and are a bit stunned to see the only empty seat was next to eddie's. Having no choice, you sit next to him. His initial reaction is polite, a kind enoigh smile, but for the rest of the class that quickly seemed to change as all your efforts at small talk had gone to complete waste. And once the bell rings, he's very quick to walk out, not even caring to say "bye".

The confrontation

• After some critical thinking and searching in the library, you confront him in the woods, next to the picnic benches. He's a bit cocky, saying how you don't know anything, dont understand what youre talking about.

• "[Insert some vampire lore you seem fit]"

• "You seem so sure of what you want to say, sweetheart, so just spill it out then" he walks up to you, and even though you dont want to be scared of him, there is some kind of danger in his eyes that makes you backtrack your steps. He leads you up to a tree, locking you in between it and his cold body.

• Your voice is shaky. "You- you're a"

• "Say it." He's smiling through it all, making it so much more intimidating.

• "A vampire"

• "Oh, y/n" his voice is delicate, almost as if he felt sorry for you. His hand traces over the bare skin of your forearm, and its what he's looking at before looking back up at you. Eyes that were usually a honey gold brown now dark. Blacker than the coldest night. "If you only knew...you would wish you were right."

• He leans in and your instincts tell you to shut your eyes, not sure what to expect.

• But nothing happens.

• When you open your eyes again, your heart is beating like crazy, you feel weak and confused, but Eddie Munson is nowhere to be seen.