#yeah yeah i know i don’t get to be upset about this but. it does kind of drive me crazy to see leagues of people putting me into a monolith

[ch0llies]

FOREVER NOW | CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO. PT.2

oneshot - chris x reader

You and Chris have been tied together by an invisible string ever since you met at 10. As you grew older, Chris became your safe place. He was always there, unknowingly shaping himself into the person you'd eventually fall in love with. By the time you were 18, you had become each other's first everything- first kiss, first love, first promise that neither of you could ever belong to anyone else the way you belonged to each other. And now, standing in the bathroom with ten pregnancy tests lined up on the counter, that promise felt heavier than ever.

story warnings: fluff, smut, pregnancy kink, basically everything that has to due with pregnancy and childbirth, established relationship, etc... if any of these topics upset you... don't read!

word count: 6k

MONTH 2

The sterile scent of the doctor’s office does little to calm your nerves as you sit on the exam table, your fingers gripping Chris’s hand like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the room. The last week had been a blur- between the endless late-night talks, the baby name debates, and Chris spending way too much time researching the best prenatal vitamins- everything still felt surreal.

“Alright, let’s take a look,” the ultrasound tech says with a warm smile, squeezing the cold gel onto your stomach.

Chris tightens his grip on your hand. “You good, baby?” he murmurs.

You nod, exhaling a shaky breath. “Yeah. Just… nervous.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles. “Me too.”

And then, the screen flickers to life.

At first, it’s just static, a mix of shadows and shapes you don’t quite understand. But then- there.

A tiny bean-shaped figure appears, nestled inside of you. The heartbeat echoes through the room, fast and steady, and your breath catches in your throat.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, tears instantly pricking at your eyes.

Chris lets out a breathy laugh, his eyes glued to the screen, pure awe written all over his face. “That’s our baby?”

The tech smiles. “That’s your baby. And judging by the measurements, you’re about two months along.”

Chris lets out a stunned chuckle, running a hand down his face. “Two months,” he repeats, like he’s trying to wrap his head around it. He turns to you, his expression softening. “We’ve had our baby with us for two months already.”

Tears slip down your cheeks, and Chris leans over, kissing your forehead. His hand stays firmly in yours the whole time, never letting go.

And just like that, the little bean on the screen makes everything real.

You decide that night to invite everyone over and tell them the news. Your apartment is full- packed, really- with family, laughter, and the unmistakable scent of home-cooked food. Your mom, dad, and brother are here, chatting with Chris’s parents and all his brothers. It’s the first time everyone’s gathered together in a while, and they think it’s just a normal family dinner.

But you and Chris have other plans.

Chris squeezes your thigh under the table, shooting you a knowing look. It’s almost time.

“Hey, Mom?” you call out casually, getting up and heading toward the kitchen. “I think something’s burning… can you check the oven?”

Your mom, who’s been deep in conversation with Chris’s mom, Mary Lou, immediately moves toward the oven. “Oh shoot, yeah, of course.” She opens the door, peering inside. “There’s just a… roll?”

Mary Lou tilts her head, coming over. “Let me see this.”

Chris, still seated but now grinning widely, leans forward. “What’s in the oven?”

Your mom and Mary Lou both frown at first, then look at each other as realization dawns.

��A bun…”

Their heads snap toward each other, eyes widening, mouths parting in shock.

Then, utter joy.

Screams, happy shrieks, as they grab each other and start jumping up and down like teenagers. Your mom clutches Mary Lou’s arms, her eyes already welling up.

“Oh my God, oh my God, OH MY GOD-”

Chris laughs, standing up just in time for his mom and yours to practically tackle you in a hug. “Are you serious?!” your mom exclaims, pulling back just enough to look at your face.

You nod, laughing through your tears. “Two months.”

Another round of screams.

The commotion quickly draws in the rest of the family. Chris’s dad steps into the kitchen first, followed by your dad and your brother, then all of Chris’s brothers- Matt, Nick, and Justin, who were mid-conversation and now just staring at the scene unfolding before them.

“What’s going on in here?” your dad asks, looking mildly concerned.

Your mom turns to them, face lit up with pure joy. “THEY’RE HAVING A BABY!”

Silence.

Then, another explosion of excitement.

Chris’s dad claps him on the back, shaking his head with a wide grin. “You little shit.”

Your brother lets out a stunned laugh. “Holy shit, I’m gonna be an uncle?”

Nick lets out an exaggerated gasp. “I’M GONNA BE AN UNCLE TOO!”

“You’re not special, we’re all uncles!” Matt chimes in, and Justin just shakes his head, laughing.

Chris, overwhelmed but beaming, pulls you into his arms, kissing you right there in the middle of the kitchen, his hands cradling your face.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips.

Tears still streaming, you smile against his mouth. “I love you too.”

MONTH 3

By the third month, your body is starting to change, though you’re not fully showing just yet. Your lower stomach has a tiny bump, just enough for Chris to become obsessed.

Every morning, before even kissing you good morning, he lifts your hoodie or pajama top to check your belly. “Lemme see our baby,” he mumbles sleepily, pressing a kiss to your skin. He does this every single morning.

At your 12-week ultrasound, you both hear the baby’s heartbeat loud and clear for the first time. Chris records the whole thing on his phone, his eyes misting over as he grips your hand tightly. “That’s our baby,” he whispers in pure awe.

Month 3 was fun but it came with mood swings. And they hit hard. One moment you’re laughing, the next you’re sobbing because you saw a video of a puppy and now you need one. Chris is patient, rubbing your back while hiding his laughter when you cry over the most random things.

Not to mention the weird cravings too…pickles with peanut butter. Chris gags every time you eat it but stocks up on both anyway.

MONTH 4

Your energy is coming back, and so is your sex drive. It’s like a switch flips, and suddenly, you need Chris all the time.

“You’ve been insane, baby,” he teases one night, hands tracing over your growing belly. “Not complaining, though.”

Chris also starts buying baby stuff constantly. You come home one day to find him unpacking an absurd amount of onesies, soft blankets, and a tiny Bruins beanie.

“We don’t even know the gender yet!” you remind him.

Chris just shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Our kid’s gonna be a Bruins fan either way.”

MONTH 5

One night, you wake up to something- a small fluttering sensation in your belly. It happens again, and your breath catches.

“Chris,” you whisper, shaking him awake. “Chris, the baby just kicked.”

He sits up so fast he nearly falls out of bed. “Wait, what?!” His hands are on your belly immediately, waiting, eyes wide. When he finally feels the tiny kick against his palm, his breath stutters.

“That’s-” He swallows hard, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s our baby.” He spends the next hour whispering to your belly, telling them all about their parents and how much they’re already loved.

This is also the month you start turning the office into a nursery. You decide not to find out the gender until the baby is born and instead choose a yellow theme- bright, neutral, and happy.

You both spend an entire Saturday painting the walls, music playing, the windows open. Chris is in jeans, no shirt, covered in paint, while you’re in overalls, your baby bump finally visible. He insists on taking a picture of you holding a paintbrush to your stomach.

“For the baby album,” he says with a grin.

MONTH 6

Your bump is really showing now, and Chris is in love with it. He touches it constantly- rubbing it absentmindedly when you sit together, spooning you at night with his hands protectively splayed over your stomach, kissing it whenever he gets the chance.

“You’re glowing,” he tells you one day, watching as you fold tiny baby clothes in the nursery. “Like, actually glowing.”

The nesting instinct is kicking in full force. You’re suddenly obsessed with organizing and cleaning, and Chris is doing his best to keep up. One night, you wake up at 2 a.m. convinced the nursery needs rearranging immediately. Chris groans but helps move the crib- only for you to change your mind an hour later.

“Baby,” he mumbles, flopping onto the rug. “Please. Let’s just go back to bed.”

“No.”

MONTH 7

Your back hurts constantly, your feet are swollen, and even sleeping is uncomfortable. Chris gives you back rubs every night, rubbing your feet and making sure you’re drinking enough water.

Sex is still happening, but it’s… different. Your growing belly makes some positions impossible, limiting you mostly to doggy, but Chris doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he’s more patient, more attentive- his hands steadying your hips, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses along your spine. He’s careful with you, always checking in, always making sure you’re comfortable, but there’s something else in his touch lately- something hungry.

And then, one night, as his fingers trace the curve of your belly, lingering just a little longer than usual, he finally admits, “Baby… I think your belly turns me on.”

You blink at him, taken aback. “What?”

He shrugs, but the way his eyes darken as they sweep over you betrays his casual tone. His hand drags slow and deliberate over your bump, fingers spreading possessively. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice lower now. “Just… knowing our baby is inside you. That I put them there.” He shakes his head, smirking as he licks his lips. “It’s kinda hot.”

You roll your eyes, but the way your pulse quickens betrays you. Because honestly? It is hot.

“Yeah?” You challenge, your voice playful but laced with something deeper. You tug your shirt over your head, baring your swollen breasts and belly to him, your skin hypersensitive, your body already aching for him. “Wanna show me just how hot you think it is?”

Chris exhales sharply, like you’ve just knocked the wind out of him. His pupils dilate, his jaw clenches, and for a second, you think he might actually lose his mind.

Then he’s on you, hands already reaching, already touching. His lips find your neck, warm and open-mouthed, his breath hot against your skin. “Get on your hands and knees, mama,” he rasps, voice thick with need.

You obey without question, shifting onto your hands and knees, arching your back just enough to give him the perfect view.

You had thought that since gaining pregnancy weight that Chris would be turned off… or maybe even stop finding you attractive completely. But it was the opposite. He loves it.

He grabs your love handles every chance he gets and rubs your thighs and massages your back, not because you asked, simply because he wants to. Because it turns him on.

Chris groans behind you, his hands immediately finding your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make you feel grounded. He spreads his palms over your skin, dragging them down to your thighs, then back up, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

You shiver at the heat in his voice, at the way he sounds almost wrecked already.

“Then show me,” you challenge, glancing over your shoulder at him.

His eyes flash dark with something dangerous, something wild, and then he’s moving- leaning over you, pressing his chest to your back as he kisses along your shoulder, his hands never stopping their slow worship of your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear. His hands slide under your belly, holding you, supporting you like it’s second nature. Like taking care of you is just as much a turn-on as anything else.

And when he finally pushes into you, slow and deliberate, a deep groan rumbles through his chest. His grip returns and tightens on your hips, and he drops his head forward, his breath hot against your skin.

“Jesus Christ,” he swears, voice strained. “You feel even better like this.”

A gasp escapes your lips as you adjust to the stretch, your fingers clutching the sheets. Chris moves carefully at first, like he’s afraid of hurting you, but it only makes you want more.

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” you pant, pushing back against him, desperate for more. “You’re not gonna hurt the baby.”

Chris lets out a deep, shaky breath, his hands tightening on your hips as he keeps thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace. His self-control is tangible, the restraint in every roll of his hips almost maddening. Then, suddenly, his hands slide from your hips back to your belly, spreading wide, cradling the swell of it with something so tender it makes your chest ache.

“I know,” he murmurs, his voice rough, almost wrecked. “I just- fuck.” He exhales harshly, thumbs stroking the soft skin of your stomach. “I just love you like this.”

Your breath catches, and before you can respond, he moves- his grip tightening, his thrusts deepening, more purposeful now. He’s still careful, still mindful of you, but the hesitation is gone, replaced by something more raw, more desperate.

“Chris,” you moan, your fingers clutching the sheets, your body arching into him.

His hands stay on your belly, holding you there, like he’s grounding himself in the feeling of you- of the life you created together. His pace picks up, each thrust pushing you forward just enough to make your breath hitch. He’s panting above you, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your spine, his voice thick with need.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groans, his grip flexing as he moves. “Carrying my baby, taking me so well.”

The words send a shockwave through you, heat pooling low in your stomach. You whimper, pushing back against him, needing more. He growls low in his throat, like you’re unraveling him, like he’s barely holding on.

“Yeah?” he breathes, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple. “You like that?”

You nod frantically, gasping as he rolls his hips harder, deeper, hitting that spot that makes you cry out.

“Fuck,” Chris groans, his voice strained, his movements more desperate now. “Gonna make you cum just like this, mama. You ready?”

Chris’s thrusts grow more purposeful, deeper, his control slipping as your body clenches around him. His hands remain firm on your belly, holding you close, grounding himself in the feeling of you- the mother of his child, his woman, so perfect beneath him.

You’re burning, every nerve in your body alight as pleasure coils deep in your stomach. The way he’s touching you, how he’s holding your belly like it’s something sacred while still fucking you so thoroughly- it’s overwhelming, too much and not enough all at once.

“Chris- ” you gasp, pushing back against him, desperate for more. “I’m- oh my God- ”

He groans, gripping your hips again, pulling you back onto him harder. “I got you, baby,” he pants, his voice wrecked. “You feel so fucking good- so tight, so perfect. You gonna cum for me?”

You nod frantically, the tension inside you about to snap. His hand slides from your belly down between your legs, fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing firm, tight circles that send shockwaves through you.

Your moan is almost a sob as the pleasure crashes into you, your body shaking as you cum hard around him. Your walls clench tight, dragging him deeper, and he groans, losing whatever fragile control he had left.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” he grits out, his rhythm growing erratic. His grip tightens on your belly again, his forehead pressing against your spine. “Gonna fill you up- fuck-”

You’re still trembling from your own orgasm when you feel him go rigid behind you, a deep groan ripping from his throat as he cums inside you, his thrusts slowing but still deep, still pushing every last bit of himself into you.

For a long moment, all you can hear is the sound of your mingled breaths, heavy and uneven. Chris collapses against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands still possessive on your stomach.

He lingers inside you for a moment longer before he finally pulls out, groaning softly at the loss of warmth. He presses a lingering kiss between your shoulder blades before sliding off the bed, heading to the bathroom. You hear the water run, and moments later, he’s back with a warm washcloth.

“Let me clean you up, mama,” he murmurs, his voice still thick with exhaustion and satisfaction.

You sigh as he gently wipes between your legs, being careful with every touch. His hands are slow and methodical, taking care of you like he always does. When he’s done, he tosses the washcloth into the laundry bin, then climbs back into bed, pulling you into his arms.

You melt into his embrace, your back pressed against his chest, his hands instinctively finding your belly again. He rubs slow circles over your skin, his lips pressing lazy kisses to the back of your neck.

Just as you’re about to drift off, his voice cuts through the quiet.

“Baby,” he says, his tone laced with something mischievous.

You hum sleepily, too comfortable to open your eyes. “Hmm?”

“We’re gonna have to record a movie or some shit with you pregnant,” he says, his breath warm against your ear. “It turns me on way more than it should.”

Your eyes snap open as you twist to look at him. “What?”

He grins, completely unapologetic. “I’m serious. You obviously can’t be pregnant all the time… unless I get you pregnant again right after the first baby is out.” He smirks, his hand splaying possessively over your belly. “How do you feel about Irish twins?”

You stare at him, half amused, half horrified. “Chris.”

“What?” he chuckles, nuzzling into your neck. “I mean, just think about it…. another baby, back to back? You’d look so fucking good carrying my baby again.”

You swat at his arm. “Let me get through this pregnancy first before you start planning the next one.”

He laughs, squeezing you tighter. “Alright, alright. But just so you know, I’m putting the idea out there.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re insane.”

“And you love me,” he counters, kissing your shoulder.

You sigh dramatically. “Unfortunately.”

Chris just chuckles, pulling you even closer. “Get some sleep, baby. We’ll revisit this conversation later.”

You shake your head but don’t argue, letting yourself drift off in his arms, knowing full well he’s absolutely going to bring it up again.

MONTH 8

Your families throw you the most beautiful baby shower. Chris spends most of the day looking at baby items like he’s in awe that they’re for his child.

He’s also officially in full-on dad mode. He refuses to let you lift anything, scolds you for overexerting yourself, and installs the car seat a month early.

One night, you find him sitting in the nursery, staring at the crib.

“Chris?” you whisper, stepping inside.

He looks up, a soft smile on his face. “I just can’t believe we’re gonna have our baby sleeping in here soon.”

You walk over, taking his hand and resting it on your belly. “Me neither.”

MONTH 9

Everything is ready. The nursery is done, the hospital bag is packed, and Chris is on edge 24/7.

Every time you shift in bed, he bolts upright. “Are we going? Is it happening?”

“No, Chris. I just have to pee.”

He starts leaving work early, checking on you constantly. One day, he comes home with even more baby clothes, a yoga ball, and a brand-new breast pump.

“Chris,” you laugh. “We already have everything!”

“I just… wanna be prepared,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

One night, as he’s helping you into bed, he kneels down, pressing his lips to your belly.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, voice full of love. “We’re ready for you whenever you are.”

And just like that, the final stretch begins. Any day now, your baby will be here.

MONTH 9, WEEK 1

Lying in bed, your body aching from the sheer weight of pregnancy, you shift slightly, trying to find some comfortable position. Chris, ever in tune with you, adjusts immediately, tucking himself behind you and rubbing slow, soothing circles on your belly.

“We need to talk names,” you murmur sleepily, your head resting against his chest.

Chris hums, his fingers trailing absentmindedly over your bump. “Yeah, we do. We can’t just keep calling them ‘baby’ forever.”

You smile, but then a thought strikes you. “Okay, hear me out- if it’s a boy, I still wanna name him Owen.”

Chris stills for a moment before tilting his head down to look at you. “Still?”

You nod, suddenly nervous. “Yeah. I just… I love the name, and I thought it’d be a sweet way to honor you.”

Chris is quiet, but then his lips press against the side of your head. “You know what, I love it,” he whispers.

Relief floods you, and you nuzzle closer. “For the middle name… I was thinking maybe after my dad or my brother?”

Chris grins. “Perfect. We’ll decide when we meet him.”

You nod before shifting again. “And if it’s a girl?”

Chris chuckles. “Do you remember what my pick was?”

“Aria?” you question, remembering what he had said months and months ago.

Chris exhales, and you swear you feel his heart pick up. “Yes. Aria,” he repeats, like he’s letting it settle. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, baby. And for the middle name,” you continue, tilting your head to look at him, “I was thinking… Lou.”

Chris’s breath hitches. “After my mom?”

You nod, watching as his face softens into something unbearably tender.

“I love you so much,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Aria Lou… that’s perfect.”

And just like that, your baby- Owen or Aria- finally has a name.

MONTH 9, WEEK 2

The first time you feel contractions, they hit out of nowhere. Your stomach tightens, and a dull ache spreads through your back, making you pause mid-step in the kitchen.

Chris notices instantly. “What? What’s wrong?”

You grip the counter, wincing. “I think… I think I’m having contractions.”

Chris immediately launches into action. “Okay! Okay, let’s go- hospital, now!” He grabs the pre-packed hospital bag, his keys, his phone, his soul practically leaving his body as he rushes to the door.

You exhale through the pain, holding up a hand. “Chris. Chris! It’s fine. They’re just Braxton Hicks contractions.”

Chris blinks, still frozen mid-panic. “The fuck is a Braxton Hicks?”

You sigh, rubbing your belly. “False contractions. My body’s just practicing.”

Chris stares at you like you just betrayed him. “Practicing?! Baby, I was ready to sprint down the hall and flag an ambulance!”

For the rest of the week, every single time you shift uncomfortably, Chris is on guard. If you so much as groan while rolling over in bed, he’s wide awake, scrambling for his phone.

You sigh. “Chris. I just have to pee.”

He squints. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

You’re not sure how he’s gonna survive the real thing.

MONTH 9, WEEK 3

By now, the baby is almost a month overdue and you want nothing more than to push it out. God must’ve heard your prayers because you wake up to an intense pressure in your lower belly, a sharp pain that pulls you out of sleep with a gasp. For a moment, you think it’s just more Braxton Hicks contractions- until you feel it.

A rush of warmth liquid. A pop.

Your eyes go wide as realization slams into you.

“Chris.”

Chris, who had been sleeping like a dead man, groggily lifts his head. “Mmm?”

You slap his chest. “Chris, my water just broke.”

It takes him exactly three seconds to process that before he shoots upright, fully awake.

“OH, SHIT.”

“CHRIS, GET THE FUCKING BAG!”

Chris dives out of bed, scrambling for the hospital bag while simultaneously pulling on his jeans and trying to call everyone at once. “Okay, okay- uh, shit, okay- baby’s on the way, holy fuck!”

“Chris, breathe!” you hiss, gripping the bed as another contraction rolls through. “Just get me to the-”

And then you glance outside.

It’s snowing.

Not just a light dusting- a full-on blizzard.

Chris follows your gaze, his face draining of color. “No. No, no, NO- Fuck. Okay, hold on.”

He rushes to the window. Your car is buried under the snow, the driveway completely covered.

“Oh no….”

“DON’T WORRY! I GOT IT!”

And for the first time in your life, you see Chris move with the efficiency of a goddamn Olympic athlete.

He grabs his coat, shoves his feet into boots, and runs outside with nothing but a shovel and pure desperation.

You’re standing in the doorway, gripping the frame through another contraction, watching him shovel like his life depends on it.

“CAREFUL, CHRIS!”

“I’M BEING CAREFUL, BABY!” He yells as his left boot slips on ice and he almost takes a tooth out on the frozen pavement.

After what feels like forever, he finally clears enough space to get the car out. Panting, sweating, frost forming on his damn eyelashes, he runs back inside, scooping you up like a firefighter.

“Okay- okay, we’re going, baby, let’s go.”

He gets you into the car, throws the bag in the back, and peels out onto the snowy road, one hand on the wheel, the other gripping yours tightly.

Between contractions, you hear him frantically calling his parents, your parents, anyone will who pick up. “Baby’s on the way! We’re coming- SHIT, THESE ROADS ARE ICY- but we’re coming!*”

“Chris, focus on driving!”

“I CAN MULTITASK!”

But through the excitement, the panic, the snowstorm- Chris still finds a second to glance over at you, his free hand tightening around yours.

“We’re about to meet our baby, baby.”

And despite the pain, the stress, the absolute shitshow of this entire night- you smile.

Chris has the gas pedal pressed way too hard, white-knuckling the steering wheel as he simultaneously calls every single family member he can think of.

“Mom! We’re on the way- baby’s coming NOW. I don’t care about the storm, just- just get to the hospital!”

You groan through another contraction, gripping your belly, your nails digging into the seat. “Chris, shut the fuck up and focus on DRIVING!”

He immediately hangs up on his mom and dials someone else. “Dad! Baby’s coming- YES, RIGHT NOW- NO, I DON’T KNOW HOW LONG LABOR TAKES, JUST GET THERE!”

“Chris,” you grind out, trying to breathe through the insane pain in your abdomen. “If you call one more person, I swear to God-”

“Hold on, babe- Nick’s calling.”

“CHRIS!”

“OKAY, OKAY, I’M FOCUSING!”

Chris barely slows the car as he swerves into the hospital entrance. He parks right outside the ER doors, throws it into park, and launches himself out.

“Hang tight, baby, I got you!”

You let out a pained groan as another contraction tears through you, doubling over in your seat. Chris yanks the hospital bag from the back, sprints to your side, and immediately pulls open the passenger door.

“Come on, come on, we gotta go- ” He tries helping you out, but you’re moving too slow for his patience. His head whips around and locks onto the valet guy standing nearby.

“TAKE THE KEYS!” Chris chucks them at him before turning back to you.

“Chris,” you grit out, “I need a second-”

“NOPE, NO TIME, HOLD ON-”

Before you can argue, he sprints inside and grabs a wheelchair.

And when you say grabs a wheelchair, you mean full-speed, NFL linebacker, dodging obstacles, yanks one from the hallway and sprints back.

“Okay, baby, up you go- ” He lifts you carefully, places you into the chair, grabs the bag, and immediately pushes you through the sliding doors, moving like a man possessed.

“WE’RE HAVING A BABY!” he yells to the entire hospital lobby. “WHO CAN HELP DELIVER IT?”

A nurse rushes over, calm and professional. “Sir, please lower your voice-”

You groan, grabbing onto the wheelchair handles, “Shut the FUCK up, Chris!”

The nurse blinks, unimpressed. “Yeah, you heard her. Follow me.”

You’re wheeled into a triage room, and Chris hovers like a nervous wreck as the nurses work quickly around you.

“How far along are you?” a nurse asks, helping you onto the hospital bed.

“Nine months and three weeks.” Chris answers way too fast. “She’s been having contractions for…how long, baby?”

You glare at him through the pain. “CHRIS, I DON’T KNOW, I’M IN AGONY.”

“Okay, okay, right, sorry-”

A doctor comes in, pulling on gloves. “Let’s check how dailated you are.”

Chris freezes. “Wait, check what?”

The nurse gives him a look. “Sir, if you’re gonna faint, step outside.”

“I’M NOT GONNA FAINT,” Chris yells, then immediately looks pale when the doctor starts checking your cervix.

“She’s already seven centimeters,” the doctor announces.

Chris’s eyes widen. “Wait, so that’s close, right? Baby’s coming soon?!”

“Labor can still take time,” the nurse says calmly, way too used to panicked fathers. “Let’s get her into a delivery room.”

Once you’re settled into the delivery room, Chris refuses to sit down. He stands beside you, gripping your hand way too tight, bouncing on his feet like a fighter waiting to enter the ring.

“Okay, baby, just breathe. Remember the breathing exercises? In through your nose, out through your-”

“I swear to fucking GOD, Chris, if you tell me to breathe ONE MORE TIME-”

“Okay, yep, shutting up- ”

The contractions are getting worse. Chris watches helplessly, his eyes flicking between you and the monitor tracking each one.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “How are you this strong?”

“Because I have no choice,” you snap, panting through another contraction. “Because you put a baby inside me, Christopher.”

Chris gulps, squeezing your hand. “You’re doing amazing, baby. I love you so much-”

You barely register the doctor’s next words.

“You’re at nine centimeters- almost time to push.”

Chris blanches. “WHAT? ALREADY?”

“You ready to meet your baby?” the nurse asks, beaming.

Chris nods rapidly. “Oh, hell yeah, let’s go, let’s do this-”

The doctor smirks. “Dad, maybe sit down before you pass out?”

“I’M FINE!”

You glare at him. “Chris, SIT THE FUCK DOWN.”

And for once, Chris actually listens and sits down in the chair next to your bed.

And then It’s time.

Chris stands up again, gripping your hand both excited and terrified, his forehead pressed to yours as the doctor counts down.

“Push, baby, you got this- Oh my God, I can see the head- holy fuck- ”

You’re exhausted, screaming through the pain, every fiber of your being focused on getting your baby into the world.

And then-

A cry.

A loud, beautiful baby’s cry.

Chris chokes on a sob as the doctor lifts your baby up.

“Congratulations! You have a-”

But Chris isn’t even listening. He’s already crying, already pressing kisses to your damp forehead, whispering “I love you, I love you, I love you so much, baby, you did it-”

And then, they place your baby in your arms.

Tiny. Perfect. Yours.

Chris stares at them, absolutely wrecked with emotion, whispering, “Hi, baby,” his fingers brushing over their tiny hands.

“It’s a girl,” the nurse says softly. “6 pounds and 7 ounces. Perfectly healthy.”

Chris lets out a breathless laugh. “I knew it.”

Tears spill from your eyes. “Aria Lou,” you whisper, and Chris breaks, pressing his face into your shoulder.

“She’s perfect,” he chokes out. “You’re perfect.”

Chris holds out his arms the second the nurse gives the okay, gently lifting Aria from your chest. The moment she’s in his arms, his entire face crumbles. His hands tremble slightly as he cradles her tiny body against his chest, his thumb brushing over her impossibly small fingers.

A shaky breath leaves him as he leans down, pressing the softest kiss to her forehead. His voice is barely a whisper, full of so much love it physically aches.

“Hello, my baby girl. My beautiful, beautiful baby girl.”

Tears slip down his cheeks as he stares at her like she’s his whole world. Because she is.

SIX HOURS LATER

The hospital room is quiet now, the energy finally settling after a whirlwind of family visits. Both of your parents, Chris’s parents, his brothers, your brother- everyone had come rushing in, crying, hugging, taking turns holding Aria.

Mary Lou had sobbed the second she heard the name. “You named her after me? Oh, honey…” She hugged you so tightly you thought you’d burst into tears again.

But now, the room is peaceful.

Chris is sitting up in bed beside you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you cradle Aria against your chest. The hospital room lights are dim, and for the first time all day, it feels like time has slowed.

“She has your eyes,” you murmur, staring down at her delicate face. “Your beautiful light blue eyes.”

Chris hums, his hand trailing up and down your arm. “Yeah… but she has your lips. And your nose.” He leans down, tilting his head to study her. “And your little chin. And your cheeks.”

You laugh sleepily, pressing a kiss to Aria’s soft hair. “She’s perfect.”

Chris sighs, completely in awe. “Yeah, she really is.”

An hour later and you’ve fallen asleep, exhaustion finally pulling you under, but Chris stays awake. He sits there, just watching you breathe, his heart swelling at the sight of you curled up beside him, completely worn out from giving birth to the most precious thing in the world.

Carefully, he lifts Aria from your arms, cradling her to his chest. She’s so tiny, so fragile, her breaths warm against his skin.

Slowly, he stands, rocking her gently as he walks back and forth across the room. His fingers ghost over her little ones, his lips brushing against the top of her head.

And then, in the softest, most reverent whisper, he murmurs:

“I’m gonna love you forever now.”

And with that, his whole world is complete.

a/n: dad!chris is literally my favorite thing EVER😭😭😭

tags: @mattsobvimyfav @bernardsbendystraws @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt @sturniolohohoho @courta13 @izzylovesmatt @matthewsturnsgf @aaa-mi @bigbeefybitch @hopelesslydevotedsstuff @wastelandzella @yourmother29 @whore4-chrissturniolo @idefinitelyhateu @madisonnxtdoor22 @user1smvtysturniolo @briisturniolo @sturniololuvz @hesvoid34 @butterflytsblog @mommymomm @mattsbunnyxx @blushsturns @i8kth @annalisesturnioloxo @kenziesturniolo54 @ribread03 @sturnl0ve @grace-sturniolo12 @sophsturns @mattsturnfx @lilyloveschris @milo-the-dog @riggysworld @scrumptiouskoalabasement @tenaciousearthquakeperson @sturnlovematt22 @seros-girl @sofsturnz689 @sturniololuvz @eeyoresturnz

[mossyscavern]

Nobody mess with my familia

__________________________

“Seriously, sire. Walking would’ve been fine.”

Bumblebee protests, arms crossed as he’s carried by megatron. “You’ll start complaining about it when you get home from the autobot camp you’ve signed up for.”

“You knew that-?! I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Bee tries to divert. “As for the flier pad on your desk?” He asks, looking down at the pouting yellow mini in his arms. “Yeah that’s mine.” He admits.

Megatron nods his helm. “… I think you’ll do well there.” He says suddenly, surprising bumblebee. “R-really? You’re not mad that I lied?” Bee asked, looking up at megatron. “I’m still upset, but I can’t keep you away from your late carrier’s path.”

“A bit, I’m following both her path and my own.” Bumblebee answers, looking up at megatron. “Just so you know… once you wear the insignia-.”

“You’ll see me as your enemy…” Bee interrupts, looking downwards at the city below sadly. “What?! No! I’ll still see you as my growing bot and that I’d support your decision-. Who told you that??” Megatron asks, offended by that.

“Starscream, he seems pretty serious about it.” Bumblebee told him, shrugging his shoulder pads. “That fool-?! He has no idea how to separate family matters from war.”

Megatron says, shaking his helm, glaring at the thought of harming his own son… it’s just stupid. “We’re preparing to land, lift up your legs.” He says.

Bumblebee did as he told and lifted his legs so his pedals don’t touch the ground while the leader lands, more so away from camp. “Got your blaster?” Megatron asked, kneeling down to bee’s height.

“Not allowed until after training-… I-..I forgot my-.” Before bumblebee could say anything, megatron brought out his data pad and designation pad as well and handed the items to him. “.. oh, thanks.”

“I love you bumblebee.” Megatron says sternly. “Yeah, I know.. see you after boot camp.” He says with a smile, turning away from megatron and walked.

It took at least a bream to get to the entrance before hearing soundwave’s announcement tone from behind, making him flinch at the loud sound.

“You gotta say I love you back.” He heard megatron’s voice.

“Sire, are you serious?!” Bee asked, looking back at megatron as he felt his faceplate heat up. “I wanna hear it.” Megatron argues, Soundwave by his side.

“You wanna hear me say-?!”

“I love you, sire.” Megatron cuts off.

“You’re dropping me off at camp-!”

“I love you, sire.” He does again.

“Look at this place!” Bumblebee gestures, embarrassment washing over more. “Sire, I love you.” Megatron waits, watching as his son sigh. “.. sire… I love you.”

Bumblebee says, deadpan presented as he stares back at megatron, said warlord is smirking. “See you when you get back from camp.” He says before leaving, along with Soundwave as well.

Bumblebee felt so embarrassed he swore his whole faceplate start to show colour during that whole thing… along with saying the words too.

‘That is the last time I ever let sire drop me off.’

__________________________

… I couldn’t resist.

That bit with miles and Jefferson in itsv is funny. And because Jefferson is voiced by Brian Tyree Henry, who also plays megatron in the transformers one (2024) movie… the opportunity is just too perfect to not let it slide.

Hey! Artists, animators and other story writers of the transformers fandom.

Do this with different versions of transformers I wanna see what you guys come up with.

You can even do this with a fankid, an oc, another character if bumblebee as megatron’s son isn’t an acquired interest of yours.

[boybandbaby]

The Sweet Escape Part II

911 AU (Prince!Evan Buckley x Fem!Baker!Reader)

previous part

word count: 3228

warnings/tags: toxic parents, forced/arranged marriage, classism, bullying?, shit-talking, cussing, eventual non-friend (wouldn’t say enemies) to friends to lovers, reader has a grandma, as always please lmk if i missed any

note: this is what I picture the reader wearing (does not indicate a specific hair color, skin color, or body size, I just really like this outfit!)

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

The Buckley's cordially invite you to a Royal Ball at the Palace

Please join us this Saturday the 5th at 7pm

Your fingers graze the invitation, white with gold writing, raised and shiny. You groan, throwing the invitation onto the desk in your room. You toss yourself back onto the bed and grab a pillow to let out a frustrated scream.

“Don’t be so dramatic, y/n.” Your grandma states from your doorway. “If you don’t go, I’ll just have you work with Ravi at the ball.”

“Then I guess I’ll be working.” You pull the pillow into your lap after having smothered your screams into it.

“So, why is the prince coming to our bakery to hand deliver an invitation to my granddaughter? Is there something I should know about?” She raises an eyebrow.

“No! He’s been bugging me almost everyday since I started delivering.” You groan. “He does this stuff to get under my skin.”

“Or because he likes you.” She suggests.

“Maybe in your time, the whole ‘boys bother girls because they like them’ thing was considered romantic but not today.”

“My time?” She scoffs.

“Come on grandma, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, I get it. The old lady isn’t hip to your new customs and slang.” She shakes her head. “I’m just saying, he seems sweet. Give him a shot.”

“He doesn’t even like me and I don’t like him! We’re not even friends.”

“Okay, well don’t be so mean next time. It’s bad for business.” She smiles. “I love you. Goodnight.”

“Love you too, grandma. Goodnight.” You lean into her forehead kiss before shutting off your lamp.

Buck doesn’t come down to the kitchen the next few deliveries and you’re wondering if you’ve actually upset him. You decide it’s better to go to the ball as a worker just in case he doesn’t actually want you there anymore.

You listen as Ravi tells you about his college classes. He’s a few years younger than you and works at the bakery on his days off for school. While his family comes from some wealth, he’s humble enough to work a regular job while also going to school.

You’re both tidying up the table you’re standing at, replenishing treats as people come and go.

“You came?” Buck asks, surprised. You jump at the sound of his rushed voice.

“Mhm. My grandma wasn’t too happy with my behavior the other day, said I might've hurt your feelings.” You turn to him.

He looks really good. He’s wearing a navy blue suit with a baby blue tie, some embellishments on the shoulders and a white sash across his broad chest.

“I wouldn’t say you hurt my feelings.” He smirks, having watched your eyes travel over his figure.

“No? Just bruised your ego?” You smile back, your usual bite and attitude gone.

“Just a tiny bit, yeah.” He watches as you set a cupcake onto a tiered marble display. “I didn’t invite you here to work.”

“Well, your mother had different plans.” You shrug.

“Promise me you’ll save a dance for me tonight?” He tries to meet your eyes. “I mean you kind of owe me.”

“Is that so?” You tilt your head.

“Yeah, since you bruised my ego.” He smiles, “Okay, so what’s the best flavor?”

“Here, try this one. It’s a vanilla cupcake with a caramel center, cinnamon sugar buttercream on top.” You hand him the gold foil wrapped cupcake.

You snicker behind your hand as he dives in. He’s a sloppy eater and gets frosting on the tip of his nose.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” He says, mouthful of cupcake.

“Yes, you’re so messy!” You giggle.

“Where? Here?” Buck puts the cupcake to his cheek, frosting stuck to his skin. You shake your head, laughing. “Here?” He touches the frosting to his chin, cream cakes in his stubble. “Did I get it?”

“You’re such a dork, Buckley.” You grab a napkin and usher him forward. Buck leans over the table, cheeks warming when your left hand comes to hold his face as your right hand wipes the frosting away. “There.”

Bucks eyes flick to your lips as you say it. “All clean?”

“All clean.” You nod, pulling your hand from his face. Buck's eyes meet yours for a moment before he stands up straight.

The interaction is interrupted by an aggravating voice. “Evan, you don’t need to be eating sweets, you need to be out there mingling.”

“Mom-" She snatches the cupcake from his hand and tosses it into a trash bin.

“Evan.” She raises a brow at him. He sighs before saying goodbye to you with very sorry eyes. When he passes behind her, he mouths “one dance” with his pointer finger up as a reminder. You watch as he swerves through the crowd, heading into Eddie’s direction.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a cough. You meet the Queen’s eyes. “Good evening your majesty.” You bow to her and then swivel on your feet to bow to Maddie, who approaches for a cookie.

“The bread has been a little dry lately.” She states to you.

“Mom!” Maddie chokes on her bite of a snickerdoodle cookie.

“Oh hush,” she waves her hand at Maddie. “I hope tomorrow’s batch will be fixed?”

“Yes ma’am.” You gulp. You’re normally one to argue but know there’s no good in fighting with the Queen. Plus, your bakery is known for how fluffy, moist, and airy your baked good are.

She makes you feel so small and the sinking feeling in your chest drops to your stomach. She reminds you that you don’t belong in this world, his world, and the realization that you’ll never have Evan Buckley, hits you hard. The Queen nods once before moving into the direction of her husband.

“I’m sorry about her.” She grabs a napkin from the table. “She can be a lot. I mean, can you believe she’s put on this whole thing just for Buck to get a wife?”

“What?” You startle.

“You don’t know? They want Buck to find a wife by the end of the night. That’s why there’s so many girls here. It’s kind of an unspoken thing.” She chuckles. “Buck isn’t very happy about it.”

“Oh… I wasn’t aware.” You mumble. You start to feel sick to your stomach. Is this why he invited you here? Does he possibly feel the same? Or is he trying to use you to get back at his parents?

You excuse yourself, Ravi stating he can handle the table while you’re gone. Your corset feels like it’s getting tighter around your belly and chest. You start to feel yourself losing control of your breathing. You rush into the bathroom, passing the powder area, then locking yourself into a stall.

You won’t let yourself cry here and not for these people. Just as you’re ready to exit the stall, you hear a voice.

“Did you see him with that baker girl?” The voice is shrilly as she sprays perfume onto her gown.

“I did! She was touching his face, basically, draping herself all over him and sticking to his side like a Velcro dog. I mean come on, his parents would never let him date let alone marry trash like her.” Another girls voice states, lips smacking to smear her newly applied lip gloss.

“You think she’s sleeping with him?” The first voice states. “He was pretty flirty with her.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me, I mean Evan slept with me on our first date but then again look at me. I definitely don’t think he would hook up with her, just look at her.” Lip gloss girl laughs.

“And did you see her dress? God, it just screams poor.” Perfume girl chokes out another laugh.

“You’re right, Evan has standards. I mean she could never give him what he needs.” Lip gloss girl puckers her lips and blows herself a kiss in the mirror.

“And you can?” Another spray of perfume.

“I already have.” She slips the gloss into her bag. They both laugh before slamming the bathroom door shut behind them.

You’d fought with yourself on whether you should leave after finding out this whole thing is for him to find a wife but after hearing those girls say those things about you, you’re ready to bolt. You can feel tears blurring your eyes and a tight ball in your chest.

Why do you care so much about what those wenches think? You’ve never cared about girls like that and their opinions but after dealing with The Queens micro-aggressions towards you, you wonder if Buck feels the same. Maybe he thinks you're an easy lay or someone he can walk all over.

You run to the sink to splash water on your face before going back to the table. Your grandma would be upset with you if you left the ball and you’d be mad at yourself for letting these uppity assholes get to you. Also, you’d never leave Ravi alone to deal with everything.

With a deep breath, you check your face for any signs that you've been crying and smooth down your skirt. Just as you exit into the hallway, Buck turns the corner and stumbles into you.

“Whoa! Hey! I was looking for you. I’m cashing in my coupon for a dance.” His fingers inch toward your sleeves, feeling at the fabric.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Your parents won’t be pleased.”

“Nonsense. One dance.” He hand grips your arm, not tight enough to bruise but firm enough to have your head reeling.

“Is that an order?” You attempt to smile, he doesn’t seem to notice that it’s forced.

“Only if you keep rejecting me.” He winks. When you don’t come up with a quick response like you normally would, he grins and holds his other hand out.

You hesitate, hand lingering at your sides. He wiggles his fingers and you forget for a moment that something between you two could never happen. You let yourself go and wonder if this would be the only and last time you’d be able to interact with him like this.

After tonight, he’ll be an engaged man. He’ll soon have a wife and then be a ruler and maybe a father. You hardly know him! Does he even want children? His duties will force him to produce an heir but you wonder if he wants kids himself. You think he’ll be a great father one day and hopefully a great king.

As he pulls you onto the dance floor, a wordless, piano ballad echoes in the room. He wraps an arm around your back, hand placed respectfully at the center, as his other hand holds your own. You place your empty hand on his chest.

“I think this is the closest you’ve ever let me get to touching you.” He points out.

“This is least annoying you’ve ever been.” You joke. He laughs, it’s boyish and loud. There's a moment of brief silence. “So, you’re really going to be king soon?”

“Sounds like it.” He sighs.

“And that’s why you invited me tonight? To be an option in your pool of potential suitors?”

“Not an option. More like my number one choice.” He flirts, though there’s sadness laced in his words.

You laugh incredulously. “You’re a piece of work, Buckley. So, what’s your deadline for picking a wife?”

“By the end of the night.”

“By the end of the night? Have you even really gotten to know anyone here?” You look around.

“No, that’s kind of why I was hoping you’d agree to be my wife.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You roll your eyes. “What makes you think I would agree to something like that?”

“I know it was a long shot but I also know you have a soft spot for me. You try to act like you hate me but deep down I know you don’t.”

“Agreeing to an arranged marriage with you sounds like torture.”

“So, you really don’t like me, huh?”

“I mean the whole idea is just… wrong and I know you don’t have much choice so I’m sorry for that. But I know who ever you choose will be lucky. You can be really annoying some days but I also know you have a big heart and mean well. Just don’t give your heart to someone who’s not in it for the right reasons.”

“I’ll take that as you do like me.”

“Shut up, Buckley.” You push his shoulder. “Let’s say I do agree to be your wife. What’s in it for me?”

“I know you’ve been telling Bobby that you need a new stand mixer. I could maybe buy you that?” He offers.

“You’re serious?”

“Dead serious. I know a stand mixer isn’t equivalent to marriage but that’ll just be the start. Then maybe we can get those renovations you’ve been dreaming of.”

“You remember when I talked about those?” You gasp. “That was like 2 years ago.

“2 years and 3 months. Plus, I remember everything you say.” He bites his lip.

It’s unlike you to agree to something so crazy, so permanent, but Evan Buckley has a way of getting to you. His blue eyes and his sweet smile, the way his eyes crinkle shut when he’s so happy, his birthmark, so unique and beautiful. It’s all the initial reasons you fell for him before you got to know him. That part you’ve tried to shove deep down comes up as you look at him and you find yourself agreeing to marry him.

It’s probably the most unromantic proposal: “Will you be my arranged marriage wife?” He whispers in your ear, both arms wrapped around your waist.

You laugh before nodding. “This is crazy, Buck.”

“You’re a life saver. I’ll never be able to thank you for doing this.” He rests his cheek against your head.

Buck has pulled his parents, Maddie and Chim aside. They stand in the King's office.

“So, who have you chosen son?” The King asks.

“Y/n.”

In comes a forced laughed then a strict “no.”

“But I chose someone like you asked and I’m happy with my choice.” Buck begins to get worked up.

“Evan, we said someone who would fit the role of future queen. She is a baker. I mean, running a bakery is not like running a kingdom.”

“She’ll learn. I’ll help her.” He pleads.

“No, you’ll choose someone else.” He commands.

“How about June? Her family owns the shopping plaza, they make good money and we would be able to maintain a strong network with them.” His mom chimes in.

“Please, I never ask for anything. I’m asking you to let me choose this one thing. Please.” Buck nearly cries. Maddie steps forward to run a hand over his back.

“Y/n, she’s a… nice person but she’s not right for you.” His mom cringes at her words.

“She’s perfect for me.” Buck looks to Maddie for help then to Chimney on Maddie’s other side.

“Evan, she’s… she’s just not good for the family.”

“What does that even mean?!”

“It means she’s not good enough. She doesn’t come from wealth, she’s a villager. Don’t you have higher standards for yourself?”

“That’s ridiculous. You don’t even know her.”

“And you do? You see her when she delivers the bread every morning. Bread delivery! You could have any woman in town and you’re going for the lowest of the low. You know just as much about her as we do. You’re living in fantasyland, Evan.”

“It’s not a fantasy.” Maddie interrupts. “Buck is smart, he wouldn’t be choosing her if he thought it would be bad for the family.”

“This is not up for debate anymore. I’ll choose your bride and we’ll be done with it. Get your head out of the clouds Evan, you’ll never be a good king if you don’t shape up.”

They exit the room. From your position in the hallway, you crouch down behind a large vase with a bush of flowers. You’ve heard everything and it’s cemented in your mind that you and Evan could never be.

With tears streaming down your cheeks for a second time tonight, you wait until their footsteps and conversation can no longer be heard. When it’s all clear, you make your way down to the kitchen where you hope no one is there to see you. You’ll collect all of your items and make your way back home on your bike. Ravi has since left so you will have to go alone.

You’re almost fully free, just the few steps that lead you up to the back door where your bike rests.

“Don’t leave!” Buck cries, pulling you back by your arm, not too hard. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that.”

“It’s fine.” You turn away, not wanting him to see you like this. “Look, maybe your parents are right. Plus, if we were to marry, I would have to leave my grandma and the bakery and I just can’t do that.” You justify.

“You wouldn’t have to, I’d make sure of that. Please just stay so we can talk about this.” Buck intertwined your fingers. “I’ll persuade them to change their mind.”

“Buck, let’s be real. It’ll never work between us. We come from different worlds. We’re too different. I’m sorry.” You rush out. “I’m sorry I couldn't help you out. I hope you find someone who treats you right.”

“Don’t go. Please.” He sobs. “Look, I know we’ve never been friends, you’ve made that clear but I feel like we’re getting somewhere. I wouldn’t want to go back on the small progress we’ve made.”

“Consider us friends then. I’m sorry. I wish you the best, Buck but I have to go.” You pull your fingers from him before making your way out.

Buck feels the wind knocked out of him when the door shuts with a slam. He stumbles on the stairs and holds onto the brick wall as he descends into the kitchen. He feels lightheaded and nauseated.

The night’s events have gotten you worked up and burnt out. You don’t even bother undressing when you get home and your grandma has been asleep for hours. You have a restless night, tossing and turning, replaying the words and actions of everyone in Buck’s social circle. You can’t get the image of Buck’s cloudy blue eyes, the sounds of sticky lip gloss smacking or the scent of floral perfume out of your head.

When you finally get to sleep, it feels like minutes later that you have to be up for your daily delivery.

In bold print, fresh off the printer, is the morning paper sitting beside your apron.

ANNOUNCEMENT

Attached below is a photo of Buck, hand in hand with a woman you’ve never seen before. Below reads:

Phillip and Margaret Buckley are pleased to announce the engagement of their son Evan Buckley to June Samuels, daughter or Ronald and Antoinette Samuels. Plans are currently underway for the big day. The palace workers are working their hardest to ensure the Buckley’s vision comes to life. The Buckley’s are overseeing every detail to celebrate the special occasion. Announcements will soon be sent to a carefully chosen guest list. We congratulate the beautiful couple and wish them the best in their future endeavors.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

next part

[multiheadcanons]

MERCS AS ROOMMATES. I HAD A PSYCHO DREAM

scout: a fairly normal roommate to the team. his room will always be nasty, but his nastiness will never reach common areas. he can hear his mother in his ear anytime he even thinks about leaving a plate in the sink when the dishwasher is right there. he’s a guy you have to let know if you’re running out of something. he’ll go get it, it’s a quick trip for him; he’s just not gonna intuit that you’ve ran out and think “i need to get more before we run out”. good about chores, but hates cleaning the bathroom. would rather do anything else but the bathroom. also, he doesn’t care if you’re a dude or a lady or whatever EVERYONE does outside chores together and EVERYONE splits the work. especially in the hot months, he is very serious about making sure everyone’s on task so they can all be done faster. he is a social person, and will force more introverted members of the team out of their rooms, or force himself into them.

soldier: soldier is a clean roommate, and he spends like ten minutes in the bathroom. that’s about as far as the positives go. he’ll bring strangers, random and rabid animals into the base. a nightmare in the kitchen, it’s not even safe to go in there if he’s in there, but at least he’ll clean up the mess. his saving grace is truly his cleanliness, even though you can tell when he’s in a room, you wouldn’t know after the fact. it’s almost cleaner than when you left it. soldier likes to bulk buy. the base will rarely, if ever, run out of anything that doesn’t expire. wouldn’t say he’s a social roommate, but he is a chatter. doesn’t mind being approached and doesn’t feel awkward approaching others to talk.

pyro: if pyro has their own room, you will hardly notice they’re in the building. you will notice a heat emanating from their room, but you won’t smell anything suspicious. pyro took the room connected to the single one-person bathroom, so it’s not even like they have to particularly share toiletries with the team. they just have to make sure their list of what they need is brought to heavy or sniper before the next grocery run so they can get what they need.

demo: a very loud roommate. frankly if you don’t hear demo he’s either doing something he’s not supposed to or something is very wrong with him. even when he’s asleep he’s an audible man. when demo is silent, it’s almost like the entire base is silent. sometimes, because of how hectic all the men can get, it’s refreshing! but it’s only refreshing for about five minutes before everyone wonders where the party’s at. the team wants demo around more than anyone really thinks they want him around. nobody’s upset at his volume, at his social nature, he’s just a lovely guy to be around, and a staple of team morale.

heavy: heavy is a quiet man, he just doesn’t stay in his room. he prefers to locate himself somewhere in a common area so he’s easy to locate and quicker to move in case something goes wrong. the only thing is he does keep one of his ladies (one of the miniguns) directly in front of him on the floor, and he will get mad at you if you trip over, ding, or otherwise touch his gun. but frankly, it’s so hard to miss heavy or his gun that yeah, if you don’t see it it’s kind of on you. other than that, he’s actually a very calm, easygoing roommate. regular user of common areas. as one of the quieter teammates, him being located somewhere visible gives the more isolated or introverted teammates a quiet place they can all gather, while he also has the patience to field the louder, more extroverted members.

engineer: engie stays in his workshop more often than not. he’s got a connected bathroom so the only reason he’s ever out of his workshop (his favorite place to be) is to go to the kitchen, or the lab. engie is personable, but engie is not friendly. he’s not one to reach out to his teammates, and he doesn’t really like people in his personal space that he doesn’t explicitly allow. scout and soldier have worn away at him slightly in this sense, and he’s gotten to a point where he can withstand people in his workshop for a few minutes, at least. but after about an hour he’ll politely, yet firmly ask you to leave. he just wants his space to be left the way he likes it. he has no complaints otherwise, and nobody has any large complaints with him. he cleans up after himself, and his mess is contained to the workshop.

medic: the doctor stays in the infirmary. medic has the most square footage of space out of the team. he has his infirmary, which is connected to the lab (he shares that with engie), which is connected to the respawn room, and he’s got his own bathroom in the infirmary. took the initiative himself to turn an essentially empty walk-in storage closet into a makeshift bedroom. aka he put a bed in there and took out the shelves and put a candle in there for when he needs light. not to mention, he’s got his own bedroom in the support wing of the base that is actively collecting dust because he’s never in there. just his various things that he doesn’t want in the infirmary. medic is a whirlwind wherever he goes. as he walks through the base, you can tell where he’s been because the energy he exudes is palpable, and the tonal shift is staggering as you hear his boots click down the hall. it’s his vicious drive by vibe killing that most of his teammates have a problem with. when he’s not in active motion, and has taken a seat, most people won’t even register he’s in the room until he speaks.

sniper: snipes has a room in the base, he doesn’t use it unless there’s inclement weather out. he prefers the seclusion of his van. because of that, most of what he needs is in his van. he makes runs to the grocery store for his teammates, he’s happy to help inside the base as well, but he does expect to be left alone for the most part whether he’s in or out of the base. that’s not to say he won’t welcome company, he just doesn’t really expect them to talk to him unless they need something. it makes it hard for the team to really connect with him.

spy: spy is a decent roommate, if only dickish. bitched his way into having the smoking room, bullied his way into the biggest bedroom, essentially has his own bathroom since medic is perma-located in the infirmary, and sniper doesn’t use the base regularly, and he won’t let anyone else in that bathroom. no matter how hard they beg. it makes sense if you see the bathroom, he pimped it out, lowkey. changed the lighting, took out the extra toilets, put a tub in, got high quality towels, nobody knows how he did it. so imagine his shock when he goes to use his restroom, and it’s locked, and as he starts knocking on the door, an australian voice calls out “occupied”. he almost threw up in his mouth, and he had no basis to complain.

[emthephantom]

Wednesday-T.N (Part 4 of No One Noticed)

Theo Nott x F!Reader Something happens with the boys and you're the only one who can help, will you be successful? Warnings: Some angst (tiniest bit) Words: A/N: This is definitely an ooc Mattheo but it adds to the story, I hope you enjoy :) Series Masterlist

Wednesday classes were finally over and you were glad to retreat to your dorm. Your feet dragged all the way, your robes begging to be taken off. When you finally enter your dorm, you’re met with a small gift box on your bed. 

Suddenly your tired energy vanished as you rushed to open it. Inside was a note that read ‘thought you’d enjoy having some decorations in your room, meet at my dorm later, Theo x’ Your interest was piqued at the mention of a decoration, so you didn’t hesitate to open the tissue paper. Once revealed, you find a photo frame with a picture of you and the boys from yesterday. You were proudly wearing the crown while Mattheo and Enzo were laughing, and Theo- well he was looking at you, clearly enthralled with your wide grin. After staring at the picture for a few moments, you were drawn to the inscription at the bottom, ‘you are not alone.’ The simple sentence almost brings you to tears, how could someone care so much.  

You place the gift on your desk, making sure it was visible from all angles- it was nice to have the reassurance. Putting on fresh clothes, you make your way to the boys' dorm, knocking softly. 

A panicked Theo opens the door, pulling you inside, ‘Thank Godric you’re here, you need to help Mattheo.’ You match Theo’s energy immediately, worrying immensely about your friend.  

 ‘What’s wrong, is he okay?’ Theo leads you towards the bathroom door where you can hear muffled sobs. Your heart breaks as you recognise the feeling- you knew what was happening.  

‘Okay you go, I’ll try sort this,’ you softly say to Theo,’ take care of yourself too Theo, go get some food from the kitchens.’ He hadn’t noticed his grumbling stomach, his worries pushed away all his needs. He nods and turns away. 

You knock and slowly open the door. Mattheo is cradled against the bathtub, tears falling from his eyes. A similar state you were in just a few nights ago.  

‘Mattheo? It’s Y/N.’  

‘Don’t call me that,’ he sobs, 'Call me anything but that.’ 

You inch closer, sitting across from him, 'What do you want me to say?’ 

‘Anything that doesn’t remind me of my father. I’m just his monster.’ 

‘Matt, come on, you’re not a monster,’ you grab his hands, pulling them away from his eyes, ‘We can’t choose our family and you’re nothing like him.’ His tear-filled eyes look into yours, telling you a thousand stories. 

‘I heard them say I’d end up like him, worse if that’s possible. Can I ever be my own person, Y/N, if all everyone does is assume I’m like him?’ 

‘Of course you can. I don’t know you well but I know for certain you’re nothing like him.’ you take his hands in yours, speaking sincerely.   

He takes a deep shuddering breathe before speaking, ‘This is so stupid. It’s be hurting for a while but today, it just snapped. It’s hopeless I can’t talk to anyone about it.’ 

‘Hey don’t say that, it’s valid to be upset about something like this. You can always talk to me about it, I, uh,’ you stop, hesitance lacing your voice’ I understand how you feel. It’s a loneliness that no one can change so you feel like there’s nothing for you anymore, right?’ you look down, fidgeting with your fingers to avoid Mattheo’s gaze. 

Mattheo breathes out a sigh of content, ‘Yeah, exactly like that, I have Theo and Enzo but do I really have them? I mean I refused to let them help, it’s only a matter of time before they stop trying.’ 

‘You guys are best friends; they wouldn’t leave you like that. You just need to let them in, like you let me in.’ 

‘Theo said you’d understand so I decided to try.’ Mattheo whispers. 

‘You’re not alone Matt.’ you bring him to his feet, brushing his curls out of his face 

‘Same goes for you, Y/N, thank you.’ 

The two of you emerge from the bathroom and you lead Mattheo to his bed, sending him a look of encouragement. Theo and Enzo look at you like you’re a hero, wonder painting their faces. You join Theo in his bed, sitting crossed legged in front of him, ‘He’s going to be okay’ 

Theo’s blue eyes drop to your lips for a split second before he regains his composure. ‘Thank you, Y/N, we were getting really worried.’ Your eyes drift towards the other two, who are in a quiet conversation, Enzo nodding his head every so often and Mattheo slowly returning to his usual self. 

‘Third reason, you care about others before yourself.’ You feel Theo’s breath near your ear and turn to face him. The thought of kissing him flashes through your mind; instead, you grab his hand, your thumb tracing over knuckles.  

‘You know, I’m starting to look forward to these.’ you admit. 

‘That means they’re working.’ 

Taglist: @nottinmyheart @minhlajenni

[ask-postcrash-curly]

hey. 🚶‍♀️‍➡️↘️🧎‍♀️‍➡️🛌

that’s my second attempt at emoji hieroglyphs; just sitting down with you, this time. if not in body then in spirit. or emojis. ha. guess there’s no point asking how you are, but i think about you a lot. most of us do. i hope that provides some comfort. i can’t imagine how painful this is, but you’ll get through it. i believe in you.

here’s another song, as always. i always liked the beatles. thought their music felt… safe. comforting, almost. maybe it’s the same for you.

📻 https://open.spotify.com/track/3KfbEIOC7YIv90FIfNSZpo?si=XQtRKQNOTkWwiFlKeh2c_w

Thank you.

I’m not doing so well. Appreciate that you’re thinking of me though. Nice to know anyone cares about what I go through. I get the feeling sometimes that no one on here really thinks about that except for Anya.

And sometimes I’m scared she’s just pretending.

Can’t blame them though. Swansea and Daisuke, they don’t have to be around me the way she does. There’s enough despair going on in the rest of the ship. Don’t need to force themselves to think about me in addition to all that, yeah? Especially since they think I did to myself. But… if I’m being real… there’s a selfish part to me that gets upset that I’m the only one going through this and nobody else has to care.

…

Thank you. That’s more of a comfort than I can tell you.

I like the Beatles too.

…

Nice song. Thanks again.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

If I may request a Rise fic!! I’m a huge sucker for comfort/cheer up tickles, so could you possibly write a disaster twins fic with Lee Leo and Ler Donnie where Leo’s been having a pretty bad day (because of what is your choice!) and ends up feeling self conscious about himself and stuff, so Donnie decides to cheer up his twin!! Please don’t feel rushed and make sure you’re taking care of yourself ^_^

~ 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜!!! ~

💜💙 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 💜💙

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙼𝚂𝙺𝙽𝚂𝙽𝙺𝙼𝙳𝙽𝚂𝙹 𝙽𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙾𝙷 𝙼𝚈 𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷 𝚈𝙾𝚄. 𝙶𝙴𝚃. 𝙼𝙴!!! 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚑𝚑𝚑𝚑𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝙻𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝙹𝙰𝙼!!! 𝙴𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚜…𝙶𝚘𝚍, 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢..𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎??? 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎!!!˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟺,𝟹𝟿𝟺

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙳𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍…𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚠, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝…𝙱𝚞𝚝 *𝙰𝙷𝙴𝙼* 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒��𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜:  @shut-up-jo @itzsana-kiddingmenow @aceofspades-doodles @ziipzeepzop-eez

@tmntheadforever123 @rice-cake-teen10 @aninabanina6969

@savemeafruitjuice @cedarrthefluffylee @saturnzskyzz @titters-and-tingles

@someone1348 @my-l0v3r-v3rse @snipersiniora @mistyandsnow

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙰𝚛𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚣𝚢…

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙷𝙴𝙴 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 🕺🏾✨💞🎶˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me again.” Leo grumbled under his breath as he rested his mouth on his palm, glancing away from his brother as he sighed loudly. 

“Well maybe if you weren’t so fucking reckless I wouldn’t need to.” Donnie growled lowly, glaring down at his twin.

“I’m not a baby, Don. I don’t need to be supervised like I’m some bomb triggered to explode.” The younger said in exasperation, lying down on his bed whilst grabbing a comic book to read off of his desk.

If Leo was going to be told off and scolded by his dear beloved brow-loving brother, he should at least have something to occupy himself with in the meanwhile. 

The softshell groaned eternally at his little brother’s action, quickly snatching the piece of literature out of the other’s hands and throwing it effortlessly to the ground. 

Uninterested lime green eyes locked with a determined yet fierce light golden, both of them refusing to look away or blink to show their dominance.

But after a while, the red eared slider grew more impatient, looking away again as he picked a hangnail on his thumb, “If you’re going to yell at me, can you just get it over with? I saw a reddit post predicting what’s going to happen in The Umbrella Academy season four and I need to read it.” 

“You can read that later, Nardo. I promise you, that reddit post isn’t going to fly away.” The elder said as he pinched the bridge of his snout, “What I need you to do right now is acknowledge what you did today was stupid, alright?” 

Leo looked away from his older brother, scoffing lightly, “I do stupid things all the time. What stupid action of mine are you wanting to scream at me for this time?” 

The softshell turtle took a couple deep breaths at that comment, drumming his fingers on his left arm in a soothing motion because he was NOT going to give into the urge of strangling his twin brother…

…No matter how much he deserved it.

“I’m not planning on screaming at you— that won’t help anyone or anything.” The purple banded turtle explained calmly…but you could see and tell he was starting to lose his paitence. 

“But you want to.” The red eared slider pressed on. 

“Leo…please. I don’t want to argue right now.” 

“We’re not arguing. We’re just kindly discussing my oh-so stupid descision that unfolded earlier today, right?” The younger twin smirked smugly, his eyes locking once again with his brother. 

When it came to arguments, the leader in blue always had this wonderful tactic to avoiding things: attempting to annoy the other person so much that they drop the subject they wanted to discuss with him completely.

It always worked with Raph…which the red eared slider didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

But the only downside of doing this tactic was his dumb twin saw right through it…

…And Leonardo despised it. 

“Nardo…you know what I’m referring to. And stop picking, please. Your going to hurt yourself.” The older attempted to say in a tranquil voice, but it personally just sounded like he was one second away from losing. his. shell.

“I sadly do not know what your referring to.” The blue cladded teen said coyly, picking on his hangnail more desperately now, “Care to enlighten me, Tello?” 

Donnie’s expression hardened ever so slightly at his younger brother’s absolute persistence on annoying him out of his right mind so he could eventually drop the subject…but the softshell turtle was not budging.

His twin would have to try way harder than that.

“I’d love to.” The light golden eyed mutant said in a fake sweet tone as he walked over to lean his shell on Leo’s closed door, crossing his arms in disaproval. The elder grabbed his brother’s sword, planting it right next to his foot so the blue banded turtle couldn’t reach for it. 

The red eared slider’s cocky grin turned to a small grimace (shake) as he soon came to terms with what his older brother was doing…

…He physically could not leave from this conversation…literally.

Leonardo crossed his arms, trying to mimick the other’s serious demeanor but was only met with an icy glare in return. 

“What you did during today’s mission was completley reckless and idiotic, Leonardo…and you know it.” The second oldest said, “I had that thug exactly where I wanted him but noooooo. Because you saw me trip you thought it would be a spectacular idea to throw yourself on top of me as that hooligan tried to hit me with his bat!!” Donatello seethed. 

“We’ve been over this multiple times, Leo! There was no reason for you to do that!” The light golden eyed teen yelled, his glare only hardening more as he saw the younger stuttering over his words to try to defend himself.

“I’m not done.” The taller teen growled, all of his calmness and collectiveness thrown completley out of the window.

The slider slightly flinched (which went un-noticed by the other) at his brother’s genuine angry tone, his left leg fidgeting and bouncing up and down like crazy. 

His tactic was really starting to not work in his favour at all…

“Just…stop putting yourself in the middle of danger like you’re just expecting the rest of us to just watch. We’re your family…and most importantly, we can defend ourselves just fine.” 

“Well ihisn’t that hypocritic!” Leonardo scoffed before creasing his eye ridges together in genuine confusion, mumbling to himself, “Hyp…uh…hypocrotic? Hyp…Hypocratic…?” 

“Hypocritical?” The older deadpanned.

“YES! THAT WORD!” Leo said, “When we were fighting Kraang Prime on the ship and he went to take a blow at Mikey…what did you do?”

Donatello scowled, his eyes not leaving his twin, “…I went in front of him and shielded him with my mystic tech.”

“Exactly.” The lime green eyed mutant scoffed, “And how is that any different from what I did, hm?”

“BECAUSE I HAD A PLAN!!!” Donatello shouted, “I planned to accordingly go in front of Mikey so my sheild could protect both him and me. Did it end up turning out perfect? Fuck no. Kraang Prime slashed right through it and me and Mikey went tumbling towards the ground…” The glasses wielding teen said through clenched teeth. 

The light golden eyed teen rubbed his face tiredly, his hands clenching and unclenching in frustration, “But I had a plan. You on the other hand, just zoomed recklessly on top of me and hoped for the best.”

“…I saved you, didn’t I…?” The younger twin mumbled out meekly, causing Donatello’s blood to absolutley boil. 

“That’s not the point!!!” The elder said as he clenched his hands at his sides again.

“Then what is?!” Leo said desperately, “Because from the looks of it, it just seems like you want to yell at me for just doing my job.” 

Leonardo pulled on his mask tails anxiously, trying to calm himself down but ultimately just making himself feel worse by doing the action, “I’ve been trying to be a better leader—“

“Leo—“

“—For you and Mikey and April and Raph and Casey and C.J. a-and Dad! But it seems like no matter what the hell I do there’s always something I’m doing WRONG!!!” The younger twin shouted, blinking back tears as he glared at the ground as if it took his Jupiter Jim comic.

Which…it did. The blue banded mutant wanted it back now, actually…

“I saved you! I-I didn’t even get hurt by doing it but somehow there’s an issue…” The lime green eyed teen murmured, both of his legs bouncing up and down as he tugged on his mask tails harder, “There always is…”

“Leonardo can you please just listen to me?” The older twin said in irritation. 

“But Don I’m—“

“No, Leo! Just listen! That’s all you need to do!” Donnie snapped as he cut his brother off, “I don’t want you leaping head first into harms way! At all! Especially if you don’t have a plan!” The softshell turtle exclaimed as he flapped his hands against the side of his thighs, but his eye contanct remaining on his little brother.

“Oho so now you don’t trust me well enough to know that I can handle myself in combat?” Leo said in a last desperate attempt to make his brother drop the conversation.

“I…” The young scientist’s eye twitched, his eyebrows creasing together as he had to physically restrain himself to not beat the ever living crap out of the other teen, “THIS IS NOT ABOUT TRUST, NARDO!” The light golden eyed mutant screamed desperately, his hands flapping faster as the red eared slider shrunk at his usage of tone, “This is about you not even thinking about what would happen to yourself when you do reckless nonsense like this.”

Leo glanced to the side, his eyes watering as he bit the inside of his cheek.

He just wanted to help and be the leader his brother’s deserved…

But he always found a way to fuck it up without even noticing, huh?

"You don't think about what could happen to you and I hate it!” The elder cried, “What would’ve happened if Raph didn’t come behind the guy and knocked him out cold at the last second, huh?! Would you have just stayed right on me as he continued to beat you with his bat?!”

Leonardo bit the inside of his cheek harder, his legs bouncing up and down more as his fingernails dug unforgivingly into his arms, “I-I’m sorry, Donnie—”

“Or would you have tried to fight him instead?! Mind you, you dropped your sword before coming to me so you’d have no weapon to defend yourself.” 

“You don't think about how much it scares me when you do dumb shit like that! I hate seeing you get hurt…I freaking loathe it.” Donnie rested the back of his head on Leo’s door, taking a couple deep breaths and hugging himself in an attempt to calm himself down.

Jeez…when the hell had he started yelling? His throat stung like a bitch now…

And when had he started shaking like a bobby head?!

The older twin’s expression softened, pinching the bridge of his snout once more, “I care about you…so fucking much, okay…?” The purple banded turtle said gently as he gradually started to simmer down and become more calm, “Your my twin…my little brother. And I hate to be repetitive but I-I just despise seeing you hurt…physically or emotionally…so please just…”

The young scientist’s eyes widened, peering down at his brother who did not seem to be following…at all. 

Leo’s eyes were wide as saucers as he hit his arm with his fist repeatedly whilst obviously trying to suck in whatever tears dared to try and escape. 

The taller turtle basically ran to his distressed twin, trying to stop him from harming himself any further but was only met with a low grunt.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Fucking shit. 

Wonderful job, Donatello! You yelled at your brother so much he shut down!

Even though you knew he can’t fucking stand being yelled at and the whole point of you even being here was to explain what he did wrong collectively and calmly because that was the exact oppositeof what Raph does when he’s worried…

But no! You yelled at him anyway.

Wonderful job, Donatello…wonderful. job. 

The older twin sighed sadly, gently grabbing his brother’s wrists so he would stop hitting himself. The two brother’s shared eye contact once again, an unsure lime green meeting an understanding yet uncertain light golden.

“Nardo…” The softshell started, squeezing the other’s hands gently, “…Are you with me, bud…?”

Leo just nodded quietly, squeezing back. 

“God…Nardo I’m so sorry…” The older muttered, “I don’t…I don’t know why the hell I lost my cool like that. I-I’m sorry I yelled. I shouldn’t of yelled…I-I just…” Donatello sighed, squeezing his brother’s hands once again. “I’m not angry with you. I…I was just frustrated.”

“Well, no…let me rephrase: I am angry with you— livid even. You know damn well enough that when you do those kinds of things my heart literally jumps out of my shell. I need you to put into consideration that I would like to live to at least seventy-seven…”

The younger twin giggled wetly, fidgeting with his brother’s fingers as he spoke, “…Why seventy-seven?”

“Albert Einstein died when he was seventy-six…I can and will outlive him.” The light golden eyed teen said matter-of-factly, “But back to what I was initially saying…I know you meant well. You saw that I was in trouble…and you dropped literally everything in order to help me get out of said trouble. You don’t think of what happens to you…you just do it because you’ll know if you do we’ll be alright…”

“I-I just…I just wanted to protect you…I-I just wanted to help…” Leo tried to explain.

“I know. I know, Lee…” Donatello sighed, rubbing the slider’s knuckles gently with his thumb, “But you need to understand that with you trying to protect us that way, your putting us in the same situation your trying to keep us away from.” The elder explained lightly, smiling softly as him and his twin’s forehead’s touched. 

“You’re getting hurt— or at the very least almost getting hurt. We’re feeling the same anguish and guilt you would feel if any of us did that. I get that you want to be a good leader and shit…but you can lead well without doing that…okay?” 

Leo fiddled with the other’s fingers a bit more, his bouncing leg starting to calm a bit, “I’ll…try to be more careful when it comes to me protecting you guys like that. When I see you all in trouble…I just…react. I don’t really care about what happens to me as long as you guys end up okay. But…I’ll try to be more careful. And if I ever end up, like, being a bit too reckless…you can just tell me…deal?”

“Deal.” Donnie nodded, squeezing Leo’s hands one last time before letting go, wiping his twin’s eyes with his hoodie sleeve, “Now please stop crying or you’re going to make me start crying.” 

Leo snorted, examining the other’s now tearing up expression, “I think it’s a bit too late for that…” 

“GAH! FUHUCK!” Donnie cursed, wiping his own eyes as the slider laughed loudly at his exclamation.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Leo…don’t you think you’re getting a bit too big for this…?” Donatello grumbled as Leonardo was on his lap, getting all nice and comfy as he rested his chin on the older’s shoulder. “Noooope.” Leo drawed out, making a dramatic popping noise at the end of the 'p', “'Sides, this is what you get for making me emo earlier.”

“…I said I was sorry…I didn’t mean to shout at you like that. I was just concerned…” 

“I know that, you worrywart. I was just kidding.” The lime green eyed teen said lovingly, squishing his brother into a tighter embrace. The older let out a short shriek at the hug but of course didn’t mind the other being so clingy. 

If the young scientist really and truly did mind? Leo would’ve been pushed to the floor by now. 

The two twins shared a comfortable silence…well…a semi-comfortable silence.

The purple banded teen felt…off. His younger brother had this…look in his eyes; like he wanted to say something but was afraid of what Donnie would say or how Donnie would react.

Which was so damn dumb Donatello didn’t even know how to explain it.

“…There’s something else on your mind.” The taller turtle hummed, his suspicions only rising as the other glanced to the side. “Uhm…no there isn’t. See? This is why I call you a worrywart.” Leonardo said, tapping his fingers on his thigh nervously. 

Very convincing Leo…very convincing.

“Don’t even try lying to me, Leon. My older brother and twin senses are tingling. You can’t argue against that kind of logic.” The scientist said matter-of-factly. 

“What are you, Spiderman?” The younger snorted. 

“We shall never know.” The older shrugged, a small smile spreading to his face as he saw the other snort softly at his statement, “Now stop deflecting. Spill.” 

“…Can you…adjust my elbow braces…?” The red eared slider muttered.

“…Why can’t you do it?” The other questioned. Not in a malicious way; he was just genuinely curious. 

“I like it when you do it. You make it more firm, y'know?” The blue banded turtle whined dramatically, “Pleeeeeease?”

“Ugh, Jesus— fine. But drop the pout…you look ridiculous.” The taller mutant sighed, lightly grabbing his brother’s arm as he readjusted the braces. 

The purple banded turtle meticulously took off the other’s left arm brace, tracing his twin’s elbow to make sure it was healing correctly— which the slider couldn’t help but wriggle slightly to.

As the older twin put the brace back on, he looked at the other turtle in complete worry, “…Why are you squirming around so much?” Donatello asked in confusion. 

“…No reason.” Leonardo stated, but let out a tiny squeak as Donnie lightly pinched his forearm. 

“Yohou okay…?” The glasses wielding mutant giggled.   

“I-I’m fihine!” The smaller turtle insisted, covering his mouth as he let out a loud shriek in result to his brother now lightly scribbling his forearm. “EEEEE! P-Plehease moohoove yohour hahahand!!” The younger sputtered out, hiding his face in the crook of the scientist’s neck which the older turtle couldn’t help but let his heart melt to.

“Oh.” Donatello hummed, biting back an amused laugh, “Sorry. Sometimes I forget how ticklish you are…”

“Snrt I-Ihihi’m nahat ticklish. I juhust don’t wahant your hand thehere…” 

And isn’t that quaint. 

If Donnie had a penny for every time Leo said he 'wasn’t ticklish', the softshell would be richer than Elon Musk.

“…Right. So…you wouldn’t mind me doing this then?” The young genius mused as he scribbled one hand over his twin’s ribs. “EEEEHEH! Duhuhude noHOH!! F-Fuhuck yohou!” The younger twin managed through his small giggles, pushing on his brother’s plastron to try and escape while he still could.

The elder laughed fondly at his little brother’s futile actions, hugging him closer as he lightly tickled him, “Nahardo! My brohohother in Christ gehet back here or you’re gohoing to fahall off of the bed!

“N-NOHO!! LEHET ME GO!” The lime green eyed teen screeched loudly, kicking his legs and pushing even harder on the other’s plastron, his eye’s widening in panic as his older brother casually lifted him up and pinned his arms above his head, his plastron now facing up on the bed.

Eugh boy…

Donnie grinned, sitting on the other’s thighs as he wiggled his unoccupied fingers in the air near the slider’s side, “That’s better~!”

“WAHAIT WAHAHAIT snrt PLEHEASE DEEHEE!!” The red eared slider cried, kicking his legs from underneath the scientist.

If he was going to go down…he would at least go down fighting. 

“I haven’t even touched you yet, you goof…” The older twin chuckled. 

“B-BUHUT YOHOUR GOHOHONNA!” 

“'Gonna' what, exactly?”

“TihiHICKLE ME!!” 

“Tickle you? Well, why didn’t you just say so in the first place?” Donatello snickered, using his free hand to skitter his fingers along the crook’s of the younger’s neck. 

The blue banded turtle squealed, shaking his head back in forth whilst scrunching his shoulders, “GAHaha— snrt EEEEHEEHEH oho cohome snrt OHAHAN!!” 

“What’s wrong, Leo? I thought you said you weren’t ticklish~?” The older teased.

“Snrt STHDHAHAH! Shuhut UP! IHI’M naHAT!” The younger shouted, tugging and pulling his arms to try and get his hand’s free from the other’s grasp. Donnie just laughed softly at the action, wiggling his fingers above his little brother’s stomach. 

The lime green eyed teen’s eyes widened in panic, thrashing in the hold to try and loosen his brother’s grip but the purple banded turtle did not budge even a smidge. 

Leo’s laughs became more giddy and loud as he continued to squirm, small squeals and snorts escaping his beak as his twin brother’s hand went sloooooowly to his stomach. 

“N-NOHO NONONONO DAHA— snrt DOHON!!” The smaller turtle snorted, hiding his face in the side of his arm which Donnie couldn’t help but giggle to. 

The light golden eyed mutant rested his hand on the slider’s plastron, making the younger turtle’s laugh raise almost a thousand octaves. 

“DOHON’T snrt DOHON’T DOHOHON’T snrt YOU DARE!! YOHOUR SOHO MEEHEEHEEAN!!” Leonardo whined, hiding deeper into his arm and becoming a giggly flustered mess.

The older twin shook his head fondly at his little brother’s embarrassed state, taking the opportunity to tickle the younger’s stomach while he wasn’t looking. 

Leo let out a loud scream, descending into high-pitched cackles as even louder snorts followed, “HAHAHAHELP!! IHI’M SNRT BEEHEEING SLAHAHAUTERED!!” 

“I’m quite literally only using one hand, Nardo. Stop being dramatic.” The light golden eyed teen mused whilst watching his brother snort and squirm, “And here I thought I was the dancer of the family. Look at you! You’re making up a whole dance routine right now!” He said as he let go of Leo, crossing his arms in amusement. 

“S-Shuhuhut snrt up…” The younger twin wheezed out, hugging his middles as he playfully glared at his purple loving brother. 

Then, a lightbulb went on in the scientist’s brain, a smug smile spreading to his face, “Hm…you know, Lee—”

“Dohont call snrt me thahat!” Leo giggly interupted. 

“Uh-huh. Well, Lee…did you know that the underarms are one of the warmest places on the human body?” The scientist said. 

The lime green eyed mutant cocked his head to the side in confusion, “Soho?” 

“Soooo my hands are cold. Very cold, in fact. I’d be forever in your debt if you could—”

“NO! NONOHO WAHAY IN HEHELL! G-GOHO AWAHAHAY!” Leo squealed, reaching for his brother’s wrists as the elder tried to tickle his neck once again.

Sigh…Leonardo made this too damn easy sometimes.

The glasses wielding teen wasn’t just going to miss this oh-so-definetly-not-planned opportunity! The softshell scribbled his fingers along the slider’s underarms, making the younger let out a loud squawk as he shot his arms down. 

“NAHAH AHAHAHA— snrt GEHET THEHE HEHELL OHAHA— snrt OHOHOUT!!” Leonardo cried while banging his heels on the bed. 

“What~?” Donnie hummed inocently. 

“GEHEHET AHA— snrt GEHET. OHOUT. OHOF THEHEHERE!”

“Awe…why~?”

“BEEHEECAUSE IHIT’S SOHO BAHAHAD!!!” 

“And?” Donnie chuckled, “That sounds like a you problem, little brother.” 

“AHHHAHA— snrt GAHAHAD FUHUCK YOHOU!!!”

“Pardon…what was that?��� Donnie questioned as he pinched where Leo’s hip met his thigh. “N-NONO— snrt NAHAHAH!! I CAN’T— snrt PLEHEHEASE I’M snrt SORRY!! I-IHI TAHAHAKE IHIT BAHAHCK!!” 

“Nah…I think I’ll just stay riiiiight here for a bit…” The taller turtle smiled, using both of his hands now to tickle Leo into a laughing and snorting blob.

The younger weakly hit his big brother’s arms, throwing his head back as he squeezed his eyes completely shut. 

“…And you know what, Lee~?” 

“WHAHAHAT NOW?!” 

“I’m feeling…kind of famished.” The elder mused, his smile almost looking like the signature Joker’s as he saw his younger brother’s face pale. 

Leonardo scrambled to sit up, fighting with his brother’s arms as he giggly protested, “PLAHA— snrt PLAHAHEASE! PLEHEASE snrt D-DOHON’T!!” 

Donnie pinched his brother’s thighs unforgivingly, “You should have thought about that before yapping such ill nonsense about yourself.”

“WHAHA— snrt WHAHAHA— snrt WHAHAT DIHID snrt IHIHI snrt EVEN SAHAHAY?!” The lime green eyed turtle cackled, flapping his hands on the mattress. 

It took literally everything in the older twin not to coo his baby brother’s adorable actions; instead, he lightly moved Leo’s hands away, smiling evily as he lowered his head to the other’s plastron, “You don’t even know. Guess you really want this, huh~?” 

The blue banded teen kicked his knees into his brother’s shoulders and shell, throwing his head back in complete hysterics whilst waiting for him complete and utter demise. 

The softshell wasted no time blowing raspberries after raspberries in the middle of his younger’s stomach, making sure to move the other’s hands away any time he tried to push at the young genius’ head. 

Donnie didn’t feel like getting brain damage after all.

Plus, he had his signature glasses ᴅᴏɴᴀᴛᴇʟʟᴏ ᴛᴍ on! And those were trademarked…as you can wonderfully see. 

“God…can you get more ticklish?” Donatello giggled, squeezing and squishing the red eared slider’s knees with one hand and scribbling his sides with the other whilst contuinung to raspberry Leo’s stomach. 

“DEEHEE DEEHEEHEE SNRT PLEHEHEASE!!! IHI SNRT DAHAHAH— SNRT DAHA— SNRT DAHUNNO!!” The smaller turtle screamed, happy stimming with his arms on the taller twin’s shoulder.

Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle, deciding to show his twin a tad bit of mercy as he nibbled his stomach lightly. 

The slider let out bloody murder from his beak, happy tears threatening to fall from his eyes as his bubbly cackles and snorts bounced off the walls of his room.

“Jeez…I think Peppa Pig has some competition, huh~?” The light golden eyed mutant snickered.

“PLEHEHEASE!! TEHEHELLO SNRT IHI’M GOH— SNRT GOHOHA— AHAHA SNRT MYHYHY SNRTGAHAHAHAD!!!” The smaller teen pleaded.

“Do you promise to stop putting yourself in between danger and your family?” The older hummed. 

“YEHEHES!!” The younger cried loudly.

“Do you promise to go easier on yourself?” 

“YAHA— SNRT YAHA— SNRT YEHEHES!!!”

“Do you promise to accept your doing an amazing job as leader and we all love you—”

“MY SNRT FUHUHUCKING SNRT GAHAHAD!!! IHIHI SNRT GEHET IT!!” Leonardo shouted, his blush now completley blending into the red stripes on his face. 

The softshell turtle got off of the other, sitting next to his little brother as his little brother in question hugged his middles and giggled tiredly. 

“Y-Yohou could ohof juhuhust sahaid ahall of thahat wihihithout tickling meeheee…” The younger grumbled despite the evident smile on his face.

“And where’s the fun in that?” Donnie smiled back, his expression softening as Leo got up and leaned against him softly. The older wraped an arm around the younger’s shoulder, pulling him closer into a warm, protective gesture. 

“Ahand would yohohou look ahat that! Ihi got yohour emo bahad boy ahahass to smile todahay. Your eheeven hugging me~!” The blue banded leader spoke softly, his voice filled with affection as he poked his twin’s forehead cheekily. 

“You tell anyone that and I will not hesitate to deny that extremely untrue statement.” The scientist huffed, rolling his eyes fondly as his smile spread.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[random0lover]

I hate men and their need to act like any emotional reactions you have while you’re on your period is just you being “hormonal” and “not yourself”

(Rant in tags)

[nazumichi]

mei save me mei. mei dragon save meeee

[quietwingsinthesky]

what if. Amy “fix-it” because hallucifer makes sam so paranoid about dean leaving for no reason that sam gives in and follows him and is witness to the whole thing

[wasteland-lover]

been having dreams of a certain yt boy as of late

[seilon]

shouldn’t have checked my bank account as expected my mother has taken thousands more dollars from my savings and has almost run me dry more or less. Cool!

[morgana-pendragon]

.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[spideyhexx]

I don’t know if we’re talking about the same thing, but if your post was about this one **** on here, I totally get you. I actually followed them for quite some time and was making myself anxious for no reason, especially when they started giving proof about some of the things. I literally felt sick to my stomach, and that’s exactly when I knew I had to distance myself a little because, oh well, like you often say, that’s a ***, and I forget that sometimes… (unfortunately, I’m still in the trenches)

thank you anon, I appreciate you🫶