#and i love them and it’s not their fault they’re just kids and they’re tired and it’s almost summer

[barley-st-band]

hey does anyone know how we’re supposed to survive it all. asking for a friend

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

DEAR SPRING, STAY FOREVER ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO, SHOKO IEIRI

synopsis; just another mellow breakfast shared between you and your partners. (you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of them.)

word count; 3.8k

contents; sashisu/reader (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, all of u are whipped, lots of petnames, literally just breakfast fluff, it ended up kinda sugucentric on accident (not my fault btw he just really loves making breakfast for u that’s on him), also ended up kinda sappy at the end (that’s on me), implied no curses au, they’re in their twenties but it isn’t specified, everyone is eepy and in love <33

a/n; a little breakfast fic bc i love mornings and i love them :33 (tagging my beloved sashisu soldiers @catchuuu @staryukis i am making breakfast for both of u btw ☕️🥞) pls listen to spring thief by yorushika it’s the most sashisu song ever

as always, suguru is the first of you to make it into the kitchen.

he’s humming. it’s soft, a low lull of his voice, beckoning you closer like the call of a siren. sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, fiddling with a pan, sizzling and simmering and breathing in the scent of pancakes; it pairs well with the espresso steam from the coffee pot to his right, the vase of hydrangeas by the windowsill.

it’s a sunny morning. the perfect setting for the start of your day, an atmosphere you can savour, like the gradual sipping of your soon-to-be morning cup of coffee. somewhere outside your vision comes a morning symphony, chirps and songs by cicadas and robins. splotches of sunlight splatter against the windows, the kitchen table, the floorboards — illuminating the man in front of the stove.

something in your chest constricts, when you look at him. a tenderness uprooted, a fondness watered and trimmed, a hungry plant only satiated at the sight of this; the back of his head, raven locks cascading down his broad shoulders in obsidian waves, hair put up into a lazy half-down bun. a little messy, a little too breathtaking for words. wearing a black turtleneck that hugs his waist just right.

you should be used to it, by now. suguru has always been an early bird, always the first to rouse from his slumber, only ever contended by shoko and her occasional bouts of sleep-deprivation. he’s always waiting for the three of you, just like this — in front of a sizzling pan, adjusting his glasses by the kitchen table, cooking or reading or simply reminiscing. content to stir in the peace and quiet of the morning hours, before the world wakes up. 

and he’s always taken to preparing breakfast for the four of you, always ready to greet you with a smile and a cup of freshly made cappuccino. he enjoys taking care of you, all three of you. always has.

(it wasn’t any different back when you were kids. suguru was always the first one in the dormitory’s kitchen, messing with the rusty french press or making a grossly bitter smoothie for himself. he was snarkier, more roundabout — but no less thoughtful. grumpy little shoko would always get the last bitter pumps of espresso, and sleepy little satoru would get a french toast if he asked nicely enough. and you? 

you got to see them, be with them. that alone would’ve been enough. the steaming cup of cappuccino left on the kitchen counter — a little too tailored to your taste to be a mere coincidence — was always nothing more than an added bonus.)

the soft humming falters, for no more than a beat or two. suguru shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and suddenly you can’t resist the temptation.

with clumsy steps, heavy feet weighed down by a sleepy sense of numbness, you stumble towards your target. it’s a familiar waltz, five steps to reach him, a warmth that spreads throughout your body in tandem with the curl of your arms around his waist. slumped against him, cheek squished against his upper back, you hold your breath.

silently, you wait. one, two, until you hear the familiar roll of his breath; a delighted little sigh that slips from his parted lips.

when suguru cranes his head to get a glimpse of you, his amber eyes are leaking adoration. a sense of liveliness, a joyous spark — like a firefly, the flicker of a rusty lighter. he looks well-rested, dark circles long faded, only the dimmest remnant of them still visible beneath his eyes. 

he holds your gaze, steady and kind, and then he’s leaning forward; eager to press his lips against your waiting forehead. glasses slipping ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose. the kiss is chaste, familiar. warm, warm, a faint heat that simmers in your chest, a tiny firework of a feeling. even the metal of his piercing feels warm on your skin. 

you melt into his spine, fingers searching for a pair of hands that find yours first — his thumb rubbing tender circles over your forearm. practiced, memorized, that familiar waltz of motions. he lingers against your skin, breathing in satoru’s favorite strawberry shampoo. you’ve been stealing it for weeks now. 

suguru’s lips curl up into something amused, still not quite willing to part from you. 

but then he does. turning towards the stove, reaching for the coffee pot with one hand, the other securing your own and lacing your fingers together. he gives them an affectionate squeeze, still resting on his lower stomach. a silent greeting that he always ends up voicing anyway.

”g’morning, love,” he croons, a little raspy, but sweet and nice. honeyed and deep, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. you hear him pour something into a cup. ”how did you sleep?”

all you can give him is a tired grunt, stretching your limbs out, blinking sluggishly to shoo away the drowsiness. suguru knows what to expect; he simply smiles, endeared, pouring steamed milk into your favorite cup. with a clink of his spoon against the ceramic, he adds the foam, stirring it carefully.

then he’s shifting his weight, angling his face towards yours, and pressing the rim of the cup against your lips — not before blowing on it gently. he watches as your eyelids flutter, waiting for the hum of contentment he’ll hear once you have your first sip. and he gets it. the rich aroma stirs you into a more awakened state, and a single taste of the creamy foam has you standing up a little straighter, humming in sleepy delight. suguru smiles, crow’s feet hidden behind his glasses. 

you accept the cup with a grateful squeeze of his palm, and he makes sure it’s steady in your hold before he faces forward again. another sip, and your throat feels a little less dry, your mind a lot less sluggish. so you answer his previous question. 

”… slept well,” another tiny sip. it’s hot, warming you up from the inside. ”i would’ve preferred waking up to you, though...”

a low chuckle bubbles up in your boyfriend’s throat. it makes you want to pout, but you smile instead. traitorous lips. 

he’s looking at you again, unable to help himself, reaching over to brush some loose strands of hair away from your face. ”aw, ’m sorry,” he coos, teasingly, sickeningly sweet. ”but then you wouldn’t have woken up to a fresh cup of coffee, hm?” 

now you really are pouting. he shifts, until you're standing chest to chest, and kisses it away. twice, for good measure. he must be in a good mood.

he usually is, at this time of year. when the air starts smelling of honeydew and snowdrops, and he’s awoken by barking dogs, luscious sunbeams splattered on soft bedsheets, the pitter patter of sudden spring rain. when the apricot trees outside your apartment complex begin to bloom; a flurry of sickly-white kisses pressed against your windows, sticking to the locks of your hair. it gives him an excuse to run his fingers through it. even when shoko whines for him to cut it out, and satoru purposefully shakes the branches to make the tiny white petals even harder to find. he must like having his hair ruffled like a misbehaving dog. 

they make suguru sigh and sigh, exasperated, but there’s always a smile waiting somewhere out of view. he’s not very good at hiding it.

(he likes the apricot trees. likes watching them change shape, colour, likes waiting for them to wither and blossom and turn into fruit.

once they’re ripe enough to pick, i’ll make marmalade for us.)

the morning waltz continues. while suguru continues to flip his pancakes, you sleepily decide to set the table. fondness erupts behind his eyelids at the gesture, small as it is. you stand on your tiptoes to reach the highest shelf, just to grab satoru’s favorite mug; one you all got him for his 19th birthday, a heartfelt message of world’s okayest boyfriend etched into the front. it was meant to make him pout and whine, but you’ve never seen him drink out of anything else at home.

you place the cup on the table with a soft thunk, along with plates and cutlery. suguru has already brought down a cup for shoko, seated on the kitchen counter next to him, soon to be filled with the same rich espresso he always drinks. he’s waiting until she joins you both, so it doesn’t end up going lukewarm. there’s nothing shoko hates more. you can practically hear that grumpy scoff, see her cute little frown.

your sleep schedules differ from day to day. suguru is always up early, satoru always sleeps in. shoko fluctuates between the two. you usually end up rousing from your slumber whenever the bed starts feeling a little too empty — a fact you doubt they’ll ever quit teasing you about.

that differs from day to day, too. sometimes you sleep with suguru, sometimes the other two, sometimes all three. you have your separate rooms, but always end up with your limbs intertwined one way or another; even if one of you comes home late or falls asleep on the couch watching tv. satoru can’t sleep without hugging someone, and suguru can’t fall asleep unless he knows you’re all sleeping well. shoko isn’t picky, but you know she feels safest when she’s linking elbows with you, or touching pinkies with suguru, or snoozing on top of satoru’s chest like a weighted blanket. as for you… 

you’ve gotten way too used to their touch to ever go without it. last night, you ended up in suguru’s room, tucked underneath his chin, while satoru snuck into shoko’s bed to convince her not to pull another all-nighter. you’re assuming it worked.

”mm, smells good. you makin’ pancakes?”

a bubbly, groggy voice spills into the air, just as a light breeze flits in through the window. soothing, refreshing. you turn your gaze towards its source.

and there they are. sleepy satoru, and grumpy shoko, the former clinging to the latter like an overgrown koala. satoru seems to be in high spirits, calling out to you with a smile, blue eyes glimmering like a sunny sky; but you can tell he’s tired by the way he’s stretching out his limbs, only wearing a pair of pyjama pants. and shoko is silent, blinking drowsily, twitching when his loud voice buzzes in her ear. she makes no move to push him away. 

suguru gazes at them with a smile, in tandem with you, nothing but fond. loving, in the way the amber of his eyes gleams and swirls with promises of something everlasting. he’s a little intense, honestly. but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

and, admittedly, your sleepy little partners are a sight for sore eyes. 

shoko meets your gaze, and finally decides to shake off the man with an arm over her shoulder. said man huffs, but makes no move to follow her when she stumbles into your arms. 

her limbs find their way around your midriff, her chin to the curve of your shoulder. her hair is loose, almost as long as suguru’s, messy and brushing against your cheek. your hand goes to smooth down her back, the fabric of her oversized shirt, soft and laced with the scent of laundry detergent. she yawns, right by your ear, lips jutted out into a small pout, and something in your chest returns. a hungry plant, drinking up her raspy voice, the glimpse you get of that mole beneath her eye. her stretch marks, when she pulls away and her shirt rides up enough to expose her thighs. little lightning bolts.

”morning,” you chirp. she presses a tiny kiss against your cheek, dangerously close to your lips; sometimes you think she does it just to tease you.

”hey, how come i didn’t get a morning kiss?”

shoko turns her head, finding satoru’s accusing stare. he’s pouting, tilting his head, already making his way over to suguru. but she only rolls her eyes.

”you’re such a baby.”

”you know you love me!”

suguru stifles a puff of laughter, leaning back against the kitchen counter, elbows resting on the marble. watching his partners with barely contained delight. satoru notices, grinning softly, throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s neck.

satoru’s kisses are always sloppy. you hear that drawn out mwah! even without looking at the pair, even without seeing his lips against suguru’s jaw. a phantom warmth sprouts on your skin. 

”good morning, handsome,” he purrs, low and rumbling through his chest, pressed flush against suguru’s — their heartbeats mingling together. soft skin against smooth fabric. there’s mischief in those aquamarine eyes, something teasing, and it makes suguru want to return the favour. 

”good morning, baby,” he presses his lips against satoru’s cheek. voice muffled against his soft skin, silky and deep. ”you kinda smell.”

a moment passes. the calm before the storm.

satoru blinks, barely registering shoko’s dry chuckle from behind him — and then furrows his eyebrows together like an irritated cat. a scandalized noise builds up at the base of his throat, and he glares at the man in front of him, frustration only growing when he notices that suguru isn’t returning the favour. his gaze is still fond, like an artist admiring a marble statue, drinking in his pouty boyfriend’s fluffy hair and droopy eyes and rosy lips. flattering, but the damage has been done.

”oh, i see how it is,” he withdraws his arms and takes a step back, crossing them with a hmph. ”bullying your sweet boyfriend first thing in the morning, huh? have you no shame?”

”sorry. you just look really bulliable today.”

another offended little noise. he turns on his heel, messy strands of hair swaying with the movement, glaring at shoko instead. ”unbelievable. i feel neglected in this household.”

you huff out a breathy laugh, taking a seat by the kitchen table while your lovers bicker. sipping from your cappuccino in silence, soaking up the mellow morning mood. until you feel satoru staring at you; eyes like marbles, big and bright, rich with mirth. his pout fades away, and he closes in on you with a smile. troubles forgotten. 

before you can greet him, he’s leaning down to leave a fat kiss on your forehead — messy, uncoordinated, but loving. a coo on the tip of his tongue. when he’s this close you can see his dimples, those tiny freckles that only come out in the light of the sun. 

you feel him smile against your skin, pulling back to speak. parting his pretty, glossy lips. ”and good morning to you, my dearest.”

he’s silly.

your lips bloom into a sweet grin, honeyed nectar on your teeth. he’s illuminated by the light streaming in through the window, a little disheveled, with his cute bedhead and bare chest exposed. a giggle slips from your lips, and your voice carries a melodic lilt, coming out as a soft croon. ”good morning, sunshine.”

satoru blinks. just once, before the telltale signs of his excitement start to show; his face brightening, breaking out into a cheshire grin, something sweet in the way his eyes crinkle. like folded origami, like messily cut fruit. citrusy and smooth.

before you can protest, those strong arms are reaching around your waist — hoisting you up into his arms with a coo of c’mere. he spins you around, just once or twice, and chuckles at the way you let out a sleepy yelp. even after stilling, he doesn’t put you down, only guiding your legs to wrap around his middle; his naked chest and muscles pressed flush against you. he’s warm, one large palm on your back and the other on your thigh. he touches you like it’s muscle memory, every ridge and dip, every part of you he’s already long mapped out. honestly, you don’t understand how he can get so excited this early in the morning.

but who are you to complain, when it means getting smothered like this? 

”oh, and i smell great, by the way,” he suddenly huffs, directed at the partners behind him. he’s quick to smile down at you, tilting his head and searching for approval. ”don’t i, baby?”

for a second, you’re tempted to join in on the teasing. some part of you wants to. unfortunately, it loses against the parts of you still mesmerized by the splotches of white inside his pretty eyes, those cute little freckles. so you nod.

”yeah,” you breathe. inhaling, taking him in, sunlight and strawberries and laundry detergent. ”you smell like spring.”

his smile continues to blossom, turning sweeter by the minute. brighter than the sun. he throws a victorious glance behind him, delighting in the simultaneous roll of their eyes — before finally putting you back down. he wastes no time in plopping down on the seat to your right, dragging your chair closer to his, until they’re pressed against each other. curling a leg around yours. so clingy in the morning. 

suguru and shoko are quick to join you. they blink slowly, sipping on their cups of espresso, a rich aroma spreading throughout the kitchen. it blends well with the plates of pancakes suguru scoots towards you, drizzled with the syrup satoru likes. he’s attentive, making sure you’re all comfortable, rising to his feet when shoko asks for a single cube of sugar. she’s started to mellow out a bit, no longer as grumpy, soothed by the bitter taste on her tongue. and satoru keeps your leg locked in place beneath the table.

it’s hard not to feel nostalgic, like this. when spring is blooming just outside your window, when all three of them are just the same as you remember. some things have changed, sure, but they’re still so unapologetically them. loud voices, rude eye-rolls, teasing comments and all.

they munch on their pancakes, sip on their coffee, and you chat about what to do when you all get home. what movie to watch, what food to order, what food to make because suguru doesn’t think you’ve been eating enough homemade meals lately. bickering and bantering. smiling.

(it feels like high school every day.)

shoko is the first to leave. she glances at the clock on the wall and stutters out a string of curse words, a mutter about being late. suguru plays dumb when she accuses him of not reminding her on purpose. she kisses you again, right under your jaw, and lets her clingy boyfriends give her one kiss each on the lips — despite her protests that they’ll mess up her lipstick. then she’s heading out.

”goodbye, doctor!” satoru calls, cheery even as your girlfriend rolls her pretty eyes.

”don’t call me that yet,” she snorts, adjusting her scarf. ”there’s still a good chance i’ll drop out. or cheat my way to a doctorate.”

so she says, but you all know her. you catch that glimmer of amusement in her eyes, something smug in the way she straightens her back. a little embarrassed, maybe. but the faith you have in her makes her glow.

then it’s satoru’s turn. he’s whinier, about it, ignoring the alarms on his phone on purpose. suguru has to bribe him, promising him kikufuku and take-out and an extra tight hug when he gets home. only then does he get up from his seat, untangling his leg with yours.

”do i have to?”

”yes, you do,” suguru tuts. ”the kids have an exam today. be responsible.”

another pout. but he listens, slipping on his sunglasses, putting on a coat and stealing a sip of your coffee that only makes him grimace. he has you both kiss the taste away, and you indulge him, because he’s silly and stupid and yours. 

and then it’s just you and suguru. he has a day off, and you don’t have to leave until later. the kitchen falls silent, back to a mellow morning rhythm, that quiet waltz of motions and sunshine. suguru pours you more coffee, gazing at you from across the table, and you thank him with a smile. he adjusts his glasses and flips through the morning newspaper; absently, you wonder if shoko and satoru would’ve teased him for it.

what the four of you have is an odd arrangement. but that’s what all of you are, anyway; a little odd. 

and as you sit there, serenaded by cicadas and morning birds, senses caressed by cappuccino foam and apricot blossoms and a hand holding yours over the table… you think to yourself that even if everything shattered around you — if the earth stopped spinning or the stars crashed through the roof of your apartment — you’d probably still keep on living. you’d do it, if only to continue chewing on these memories, these mornings, like savouring the faded flavour of an old piece of gum. over and over again, until you can’t tell where your teeth end and where the gum begins, so that you’ll always be able to taste it on your tongue. for the rest of your life.

it’s melodramatic, yes, but they are too. you’re sure suguru is pondering a sentiment even more dramatic, right now, even heavier with devotion. something so sappy you’d have to hide your face in your hands and beg him to stop talking. 

and, lo and behold, he suddenly speaks up. 

“are you happy?”

the question breaks you out of your silent stupor. you look up from your plate, his amber eyes already taking you in, drowning you in fondness. he’s smiling, and he’s looking at you like you’re spring personified. the silver of his lip piercing catches the light of the sun. a couple apricot petals are stuck in his hair, woven between his raven locks. 

you blink. inside your chest, something unfurls, twists and turns, grows and withers all at once. a whole garden of love, just for them.

you lean forward, elbows on the table, and brush through his bangs. petal caught between your fingertips. when you lean back, you’re smiling.

“yeah,” you answer, truthfully. inhaling the scent of spring. “i’m always happy when i’m with you.”

a breeze caresses your cheek, your hands, and the whole apartment smells of apricots. suguru seems pleased, returning to his cup of lukewarm coffee, a little clink of ceramic against porcelain that strikes you as distinctly heavenly.

soon, you’ll have to leave. you’ll have to manage without their jokes and banter and touches, without them, for a grueling number of hours, one tortuous lecture after another. but they’ll be waiting once you get back — and tomorrow, you’ll have breakfast again, just like this. forever and ever. you never want the coffee to run out, never want the apricot trees to wither. you want to stay greedy for a long time to come. 

and you’re sure they feel the same.

the sun lets her golden hair flow throughout the city, melting rivers and warming benches. she falls across shoko’s lecture hall, sneaks into satoru’s classroom, kisses her way up suguru’s neck. you let a sigh slip past your lips, and the sun breathes it in again — a vein of joy awoken, slumbering inside your veins.

and you smile.

(it’s springtime, now. a little warmer. 

here’s to another year together.)

[pepperf]

I'm a little puzzled by a few takes I've seen along the lines of, Lila was such a great wife and mother and Diego took her for granted! Because I don't think the show gave us that at all, and I think it relied heavily and lazily on societal norms to get the audience to make that leap. It also ignored previous characterisation, which is why I plan to disregard the season as a whole - because if the characters had been like this from the start, I wouldn't have fallen in love with them.

So, what I mean is: the whole time we see her as a parent, Lila is basically phoning it in. She seems to view her kids as one monolithic, sticky entity sent purely to ruin her day (distinct shades of the Handler there). They're just a list of chores - diapers, dentist, ballet, cake, piñata... And I'm not underestimating how much parenting really is a list of chores to be done - but that's all we see, no love, no fun. She's eager to get away from them, and she's only - finally - desperate to be with them when it's convenient for the plot, at which point we're supposed to buy the idea that her kids are her sole focus (not the relationship that they spent the past two seasons building up). And even then, the focus is not on the reunion with the kids, it's on all the awkwardness of the surprise love triangle. Hell, one of the kids doesn't even get a name.

Their intent might have been to have Lila be the better parent, but like much of this season, it's all tell and no show. We're working off a couple of brief conversations from the points of view of two frustrated, tired, biased individuals who are already at odds with one another, plus the evidence of what they actually do. They show that they’re not communicating well, but they don’t show how that happened, how long this has been growing, if one of them really is more at fault. All we know is that he complains a lot, and she’s sneaking out at night to play secret agent. They tell us that she loves her children (eventually, after seven years apart), but they show her being annoyed and/or bored in every normal, non-apocalyptic interaction. They have her (and Five) tell us that Diego is a bad husband, but they show Lila sniping at his weight, his way of running a birthday party, rolling her eyes at his efforts to impress her and regain her attention - and they show him dadding at everyone (he will turn this van around, so help him), the comfortable love and affection between him and his kids, the Punjabi he learned to speak fluently to his in-laws, him looking for ways to fix his marriage...

Take the bracelet thing, for example. "You hate bracelets," says Diego. "I gave you one for Valentines and you traded it for a Dyson vacuum." I think what we're supposed to take from that is a) Lila stopped wearing the wooden bracelet (uh oh, signs the honeymoon period has worn off!), b) Diego gives thoughtless, stereotypical gifts, and c) he doesn't understand what she really wants.

But an alternative reading is this: a) Lila stopped wearing the wooden bracelet (could not be a clearer or more loaded 'fuck you' to Diego), b) Diego tried to find another way to win her affection (on his pay as a delivery driver, with a wife and three kids to support, he managed to buy a bracelet that was expensive enough to trade for a Dyson?), and c) she rejected that gift as well, without any deeper explanation than 'I hate bracelets'. She's shut down all communication between them and is not telling him what's wrong. She has shut him out so comprehensively that she's got a whole undercover life - for which she apparently has the time and energy! - and yet we're supposed to think that oh it's all on Diego. Why? Lila is not a shy and retiring flower, and she and Diego have been shown before to have some very sincere heart-to-hearts about their relationship. Something changed, okay, fine - but why would we assume it was Diego that caused that?

I think our expectations about What Women Are Like are doing a LOT of the heavy lifting in how the show wants Lila to be perceived. She's a woman, and therefore she's automatically a good wife and mother - that she's emotionally intelligent, the organiser, she'll love her children and would do anything for them, she'll tried the hardest to make her marriage work, just...because boobies, I guess. This is not how you write good parents, or good female characters, TUA! A truly astonishing amount of people actually ARE women, and they know that it doesn't automatically confer any kind of maternal or wifely abilities! These things have to be worked on!

(In real life, women are often socialised to be better at these things, this is sadly true. But an awful lot of us do not have an innate talent for it, and there's no shame in that. And, more relevantly to this post, this is not real life, and Lila is not your average person. She's not normal, and I love that about her. She was raised to be a weapon. Do we really think the Handler installed the 'homemaker' module? Lila herself said that she was scared that she wouldn't know how to be a mother, because she had no good example to base it on.)

I also think the show assumes that, when you get married and have kids, you're automatically granted a house in the suburbs, a bunch of in-laws, and enough money from just the husband's job to get by. And I think that is an incredibly privileged and blinkered assumption. Frankly, unless her parents are financing them, they should be struggling a lot more. None of that is explained, and for me it was a real gap, because these are the arguments that Lila and Diego should be having. Lila caring for the kids versus getting a job. Living with family versus striking out on their own. Diego sticking at a job that makes him miserable and difficult to live with, or taking the huge financial risk of trying to find something better. These are the real life issues they should be facing.

Listen, I think the characterisation of Lila as a parent and spouse in this season is horseshit. I think she would be so much better than they showed - of course she's going to have some low times, she's going to struggle with her own upbringing, but I think she would try her damndest to get it right, and I don't think she'd be defeated so easily. But if we're dealing with what canon actually shows us, she's, uh, kind of mediocre as a mother, and really not that great as a partner.

And yes, I'm sure Diego is no angel, either, he's obviously wrapped up in his problems, and he's probably not much fun to be around when he's fixating on, uh, *checks notes* wanting a more fulfilling job (the fiend). But honestly, he's not that far removed from the Diego we've seen all along, the one she fell in love with. It takes one conversation for him to realise how incredibly fortunate he is, and to convince him to try to work harder on his relationship and stop focusing on the unobtainable. The idea that he's the only one who is failing at this whole gig - the chief culprit in the failure of their marriage, the only one who needs to make an effort to fix things - is bizarre. And it's pretty obvious why they've done it: to justify her thing with Five later and make it all seem more palatable. But there's no real substance behind it.

tl;dr: this season was badly-written, takes some incredibly antiquated attitudes towards the role of women that are inconsistent with the characters they themselves established, and some incredibly classist attitudes towards manual labour, and just hopes that you'll either take it at face value or read the fuck into it, to better sell you a shitty romance that added nothing to the plot.

[chsopnk]

「 ✦ DADDY’S HOME ✦ 」

☆. # SHIP — gojo satoru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro x gn!reader

☆. # AUTHOR’S NOTE — the guys as the father of ur kids.

☆. # WARNINGS — mentions of puke

GOJO .

i could see him as a boy or girl dad. or both

tries to give his daughter cute hairstyles and fails miserably. crooked pigtails where half of her hair is still hanging down is the best he can do. but hey, he tries

definitely hangs his kids upside down by their feet. probably shakes them too.

the kids are definitely small gojo’s. sorry not sorry

every single day is chaos.

when he goes out with the two on his own, he loses one of them about 80% of the time (he always finds them again, don’t worry 😭)

let’s them have snacks before dinner and tells them not to tell you. they always do.

despite all of that, he’s a fun father

gojo has a lot of energy so he runs around with them all day and plays with them <33

(then he complains about how tired he is when they’re in bed :/)

lots of fun trips. to the playground, amusement parks, places in japan, different countries. the beach.

if his kids have hobbies, he’s always ALWAYS!! the loudest and most embarrassing parent there. he says it builds character and he needs to support his babies ‼️‼️

NANAMI .

girl dad. twin girls.

he definitely does their hair!! and he’s good at it too <3 nanami has done their hair since they had hair.

he spoils them TO DEATH.

the girls only want to eat the food he cooks 😒 they say it tastes better

he dances with them in the living room when no one’s home. ugh he’s so CUTE 🥴🥴

nanami’s a very very loving father but he’s also strict when it comes to certain things

example a: the girls will never not do their homework. he makes sure of it 💯

just imagine nanami sitting at a table with his two little girls while explaining math to them 🥹 he’s so so gentle and understanding but he will not let them give up

imo he really loves it when they wear cute dresses and look all pretty. he’s a girlie girl dad.

he will play with them no matter what they want to do. play dress-up? he will wear the tutu. want to play house? of course he’ll be the baby. the girls wanna do his hair + make-up? he’ll be the test subject no problem ‼️

he’s also never ever going to miss any special day his girls have. their first day of school, bring your father to school day, their dance shows — whatever their hobbies are, he’ll be there to support them <33333

also: a REAL father. never had a problem with changing diapers or cleaning up baby puke.

TOJI .

not the best father, but he’s damn sure trying

the child was definitely unexpected and not exactly wanted but once he came to terms with it, he tries his best to be there as best as he can

he doesn’t have the money needed to take care of a child, neither do you (not really)

but whatever his kid wants, his kid gets.

mostly, that includes fast food and cheap toys from the dollar store

but hey!! the kid doesn’t care where the toys are from (/gen)

definitely the type of dad to get one of those leashes for kids. he’s not risking losing his kid somewhere 💀 and he knows damn well what kind of menace that child is

he can and will bribe his son with candy to get him to stop crying or throwing a tantrum

toji cannot deal with his kid screaming or crying. honestly mostly leaves you to deal with those situations because he’s unsure how to handle them

will change diapers but not without complaining and almost throwing up 💀 it’s not his fault !!! it stinks okay?!!

acts like he doesn’t care about the kid but then shows up after a mission with a bag of candy. or pulls out some toy the kid’s wanted

cannot, will not & should not help with homework.

[pearlfeline]

truth or dare

pairing: draco malfoy x female reader

word count: 1,228

summary: slytherins throw a party and play truth or dare. draco can't seem to play correctly when it comes to you, blaise becomes a wingman, and to pansy, you're a sleepy nerd.

a/n: ughhh i don't really like this because a party just seems so unrealistic to me lol. every time i see those scenarios it doesn't seem convincing to me at all. i didn't add copious amounts of drinks and partying to this because i truly think despite them being who they are, the most they would do is share a bottle together as a small group and not throw a party because they dislike mostly everyone. also, they're still kids. sorry if that ruins the entire thing and this sucks!!! although, i really liked the idea of draco not being able to bring himself to give you a mean dare like he would to the rest of his friends. enjoy.

Your nose was deep in a book when you heard a faint jingling.

“Mrrph..”

You look behind you and see your cat swatting at the window. Your owl was here.

“Oh, Pluto leave that poor bird alone.” You get up and take the parchment from your owl’s beak.

“Thank you, Buttons.”

Buttons blinks once before flying out swiftly.

Once you unravel the parchment, you recognize the handwriting instantly.

“Small party in the common room tomorrow night. Don’t tell the stupid Gryffindors and just come downstairs for once. P.S. Don’t sleep right after dinner like an old crone and attend. I’m tired of talking to the same buffoons every day.”

You roll your eyes. Of course, he sends a letter over something he could’ve told you in passing.

“Wanker.” You mumbled, tossing the letter on your bed.

Of course, you’ll attend but there’s no reason to act giddy about it. At least on the outside. How you feel on the inside is nobody’s business surely.

The next day, you expect to walk into the common room with a circle of a few people, but you were met with bottles scattered across the floor.

Draco’s platinum hair stands out immediately despite the lights being dimmed.

“So you took my advice and stayed awake until curfew! Must be a new record for the old miss.” Draco chuckles to himself.

“Quite the dramatic invitation.” You look around and see scared first years peering through the steps.

“Is this your idea of a small party?”

Draco shrugged. “It’s just Slytherins. Whoever chooses to come is invited.”

“Obviously they’re going to show. Everybody who’s here loves to kiss up to the famous Draco Malfoy.”

Draco smirked.

“Not everybody” Blaise comes out of nowhere, sipping whatever from his cup.

“Do you not see how bad of an idea this is? The first years are trying to sleep.”

Blaise nods. “I didn’t want it to be this big either… or this loud.”

Draco rolls his eyes, giving a firm slap to Blaise’s shoulder. “Lighten up Zabini. It’s just a little over thirty people. Not my fault that’s twice as many people you know.”

Blaise takes that as his cue to get another drink and shakes his head before breaking away.

“Pansy is whining about playing truth or dare. Are you coming or not?” Draco’s eyes flick to the dorms.

“You threw a party just so we could all go upstairs and ignore it?”

“Somebody had to bring the drinks.” Draco walks past you, ironically slipping a bit on the steps. The younger kids move out of the way, scurrying back to their own rooms, trying to avoid a lecture out of fear.

You reluctantly follow Draco to his dorm room. Pansy and everyone else were already comfortably lounging, laughing about someone’s misfortune if you had to guess. Blaise followed quickly behind you, shutting the door.

“What happened?” He sits down near Pansy, who was obviously tipsy already.

“Truth or dare Zabini..” She giggles.

Blaise sighs. “Truth.”

You settle down on the corner of Draco’s bed, admittedly excited about the outcome of Blaise’s choice.

Draco sits on the floor, not before putting his sweater where he wanted to sit.

“…Boring… But fine.” Pansy, previously laying on her stomach, sits up and ponders a good question before smiling mischievously.

“Who in this room would you most likely snog..?”

Blaise pauses for a brief moment. “Pansy if you wanted to you should’ve just asked me.”

Pansy face-plants into her hands, groaning. Though, you had a feeling she was smiling under there.

After a few turns, it was eventually Draco’s turn.

“Y/L/N. Pick one.”

“Dare.”

Draco smiles at your answer but it soon fades as he thinks of what to say next.

“You should..”

The circle exchanges looks with one another.

“I dare you to…” Draco’s eyes dart around the room.

“Chug your drink…” Draco muttered.

“I.. I never got a drink.” You replied.

Blaise gives Draco a sympathetic look, before handing you his cup. “Here.”

You hesitantly take the cup.

Goyle furrows his eyebrows. “Malfoy, you just made me sneak outside and bang on Gryffindor’s entryway, why is her dare so-“

“Shut up.” He snapped.

You start to sip an already half-drunken cup, grimacing at the taste.

You hold it all in your cheeks, shaking your head in pain.

“You’ve got to swallow it eventually love.” Blaise takes back the cup cautiously.

You could only manage a squeak in response before forcing it down in an excruciating gulp.

“Not a fan?” Pansy laughed.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be…”

Draco purses his lips to hide his smile, suddenly finding that looking down at his shoes and playing with the laces was worth occupying his time. Despite looking forward to this very scenario all day, he couldn’t bring himself to give you a humiliating dare.

“I don’t know how you all drink that stuff so often.” You smack your lips, still tasting the remnants of whatever drink it was.

“Was that your first drink?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Of course it was. I don’t have access to these… alcohols…” You shrink slightly at how inexperienced and awkward you sounded.

Draco only scoffs. “We’ll, no wonder you couldn’t even chug.”

You glare at him, shoving him lightly. “There wasn’t even enough for me to possibly do that.”

“You looked like a newborn deer trying to drink from its first puddle.” Pansy let out a cackle before covering her mouth.

You close your eyes before rolling back into the bed, grabbing a pillow to shove into your face. It took you a moment to realize you weren’t in your own bed.

Draco’s smell of shampoo seeps through the pillow and into your nose. You flinch slightly but keep the pillow there, wanting to still hide from everyone. Though the mixed smell of fresh laundry and rosewood was an added bonus.

Pansy slaps the foot hanging off Draco’s bed.

“Ow!” You muffle through the pillow.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already!”

Honestly, you were getting tiresome. You rarely stay up and sinking back into a bed didn’t help. You didn’t respond and just closed your eyes.

Blaise looks over at Draco, trying to basically have a telepathic conversation. They both somehow understood each other perfectly.

“Pansy I think we should go to your room and finish where we left off.” Blaise holds his cup with his teeth, one hand pulling her away and the other opening the door.

Draco’s other minions just stared blankly, completely oblivious to what he was implying.

“Get out.” Draco quietly hissed, making them jump and rush out, almost squeezing into Blaise and Pansy between the door frame. All mumble incoherently trying to push each other.

In between this time, you actually did doze off. Draco turns back around to hear your breathing slightly get heavier as if you were on the verge of snoring. He sighs, lifting the pillow off your face and placing it under your head.

“I bet Dumbledore sleeps later than you.” He mumbled.

Draco pulls the blanket from under you and tucks you in. He could’ve almost burst out laughing by how you sleep so easily, but he decides against waking you up after Blaise basically gave him two favors tonight. Draco slumps onto Blaise’s bed, staying up as long as he could, making sure you were able to sleep uninterruptedly throughout the night.

[topguncortez]

All My Heart & All My Being | Jake x Shy!Wifey

opposites attract masterlist | main masterlist

synopsis: Jake & Y/N are given devastating news on what was supposed to be a routine midwife visit. Jake navigates how to tell his kids about the circle of life.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: miscarriage, tears, fear of doctors, cursing, talks of death, canon character death, mentions of depression, mentions of stillbirths

note: miscarriages happen in 1 out of 4 pregnancies. Most miscarriages are spontaneous, meaning that you did nothing to cause it. miscarriages are never your fault, and it doesn't make you any less of a parent. Angel baby parents are still parents.

Jake couldn’t hide his excitement. It was Y/N’s second ultrasound since she had discovered she was pregnant. It was the appointment where they were finally going to hear their baby’s heartbeat. Even though they had been here twice before, the same butterflies and nervous feelings still arose in their bellies. Jake was trying his best to not crush Y/N’s hand with his strong grip as they waited for the doctor to come in. 

Jake was halfway out of the chair he was sitting in, at eye level with Y/N’s bare belly. His eyes were wide as he was retelling the story of his last dogfight with Rooster and Coyote. Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face as she ran her hand through his soft blonde hair. 

“And then, I broke right, turning right into the sun with Rooster still hot on my tail, but the ol’ man still hasn’t learned any new tricks,” Jake laughed, “He lost me in the sun, and I was able to turn quickly and get behind him to get missile lock on him.” 

“Going to turn this one into an aviator before they’re even born,” Y/N giggled. Jake looked up at her with pure admiration and love in his green eyes. 

“They’ve got a handful of uncles and aunts who will turn them into an aviator if I don’t,” Jake said as there was a soft knock on the door. Y/N sat up on her elbows and told whoever it was to come in, but Jake’s eyebrows furrowed at the young nurse who walked through the door, “Where’s Doctor Carpenter?” 

The nurse smiled at him as she walked to the ultrasound machine, “She’s with another mother right now, but she’ll be here soon.” Y/N nodded and laid back down on the exam table, “My name is Margaret, and I’ll be doing the initial look, taking a few pictures and then Doctor Carpenter will be in.” 

“Okay,” Y/N nodded, feeling the grip of nerves in her throat. Jake could feel the anxiety rolling off his wife in waves and squeezed his wife’s hand. Y/N looked over at him, as Jake raised their conjoined hands to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. 

“How have you been feeling, Mrs. Seresin?” Margaret asked. 

“Oh please, call me Y/N,” Y/N said softly, “I’ve been feeling more tired than usual with this one. It’s our third baby,” Jake gave her hand a squeeze, “But lately, my back has been hurting, I’ve had these weird dizzy spells, just overall felt like crap.” 

Margaret nodded as she put some of the cool gel on Y/N’s belly. Y/N let out a shaky breath as Margaret pressed the transducer to Y/N’s lower belly. She always hated this part of the exam, feeling like her bladder was going to explode from the pressure. 

Jake sucked in a breath as he watched Y/N stare up at the ceiling. She was uncomfortable and Jake hated that. “Did you hear about Dragon’s wedding present for Rooster?” Y/N looked at her husband and shook her head, “Well apparently, it was a fancy little picture book. Rooster was actually speechless, and you know that man is nev-” 

“How far along are you?” Margaret asked, interrupting Jake. He looked up at her, noticing the pinched look on her face. 

“12 weeks,” Y/N nodded, “But isn’t that on my chart?” 

Margaret nodded and plastered a fake smile on her face, “Y-yeah, yes, it’s just that-” 

Jake’s shoulders squared as he stood up from his seat, “That what? What’s wrong?” 

Margaret set the transducer down and turned to face both of them, “I’m not seeing anything on the ultrasound.” 

“What?” Y/N looked from the nurse to Jake and back at the nurse. She felt her heart start to race as she pushed herself up on her elbows, “There’s. . .there’s no baby? I lost the-” 

“I don’t know,” Margaret said, “I-I’m not really authorized to read-” 

“How about you go find someone who is?” Jake said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. Margaret nodded rapidly and scurried out of the room with her head down. Jake scoffed and ran his hand through his hair, his jaw clenched shut, “What a fucking joke. Can you-” He looked down at his wife to find tears running down her cheeks, “Hey, sweets, what’s wrong?” 

“There’s no baby,” Y/N cried, and Jake wrapped her in his strong embrace. 

“We don’t know that,” Jake said, his voice strong and steady, “The nurse even said she’s not authorized to read it.” He pulled Y/N away from his chest and held her face in his hands. She looked up into his green eyes, “You hear me? We can’t jump to conclusions yet.” Y/N closed her eyes and nodded her head, not really believing a word Jake said. And to be honest, he wasn’t even sure if he believed what he said either. 

Jake gently shifted Y/N’s body so he could sit on the edge of the small exam table and hold his wife. They waited in painful silence for the doctor to come in. The only sound was the occasional sniffle from Y/N, which was followed by Jake pressing his lips to the top of her head. A small knock pulled them out of their quiet embrace as their usual doctor walked into the room. Jake felt some relief in his body, but the look on the doctor’s face didn’t help ease much of it. 

“I’m sorry for the wait,” Doctor Carpenter said, giving them both a sad smile, “Let’s see what’s going on.” She quickly went to the ultrasound machine. Jake moved off the exam table and stood by her side, holding her hand in both of his. 

Doctor Carpenter did the same thing as the nurse had done previously, putting the cold gel on Y/N’s belly and spreading it around her lower abdomen. Y/N looked up at the ceiling as Jake’s eyes were on the black-and-white screen in front of him. Doctor Carpenter worked in silence as she moved the transducer around, freezing on a spot, and taking a picture, before moving to another spot. The silence stretched for about ten minutes before Doctor Carpenter sighed, and placed the transducer down.  

Y/N closed her eyes as she felt Doctor Carpenter’s eyes on her. She couldn’t hear the words that came out of the doctor’s mouth but felt Jake squeeze her hand. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N and Jake, but there isn’t a viable fetus present,” Doctor Carpenter said, “I’m afraid Y/N has had what we call a spontaneous miscarriage. It doesn’t present like a normal. . .” 

It was all a blur after that. 

She could hear the door to the exam room shut. She could feel Jake move to lean over her and run a hand through her hair. She could faintly make out the sound of his voice as he spoke to her. She could feel him hold her in his arms, rubbing her back and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She could hear him sniffle and wipe away the tears from under his eyes. 

The car ride home was quiet, as Y/N leaned her head against the window, looking at the familiar landscape pass her by. Jake would occasionally glance over at her, noticing the hand that sat protectively on her belly. He shifted in his seat and looked at his wife again. 

Jake cleared his throat, “Are you in pain?” 

“Not physically,” Y/N answered, “It’s just. . . when you think about a miscarriage or losing a baby, you imagine blood and pain, not. . .” Y/N fought back tears, her mind trying to come up with the right words to say. Jake reached his hand across the center console and grabbed hers. Neither of them said another word as they drove the rest of the way home. 

When they arrived home, Jake noticed Amelia Benjamin’s bike by the front door. She usually babysat the kids after school while Jake & Y/N were at work. It was supposed to be a happy night, while Jake and Y/N shared pictures of their unborn child, and listen as Alex and Ella argued about whether it was going to be a boy or a girl. Now, all Y/N felt was dread of having to face her children and her parents. 

“Why don’t you go into the house from the garage and up the back steps,” Jake said, looking at his wife, “And I’ll go corral the kids to the backyard.” Y/N nodded her head in agreement, “I’ll be up soon and draw you a bath-” 

“I just want to lay in bed,” Y/N said, looking at Jake, “I’m okay. . . or I will be anyway.” 

Jake gave her a smile. Y/N was one of the toughest women he knew. She had to be tough when being married to an aviator. Nothing in Jake’s life was ever promised and Y/N had known that first hand. She had watched as partners of fellow aviators had been given folded flags instead of getting to hug their loved ones again. She always feared losing Jake, never one of her own babies. 

“I’m going to go in now,” Y/N said and Jake nodded. 

“Y/N,” Jake called her name as he stepped out of the truck. She looked up at him, “I love you, with all my heart and all my being.” 

Y/N smiled, “I love you too, with all my heart and all my being.” 

Jake took a moment, trying to gather his thoughts as he watched Y/N walk into the house. He turned the truck off and gathered his duffle bag from the back seat, before making his way to the backyard where he could hear the loud laughter of his kids. 

The second that Jake opened the gate to the backyard, Alex and Ella ran right to him. He greeted them with his usual bright smile and kiss on the cheek. He thanked Amelia for watching them and paid her. Then he stood on the front porch with Alex and Ella as Amelia rode her bike the two blocks it took to get to her house. 

“C’mon, let’s go get a snack,” Jake said, leading his kids inside the house. Alex climbed up on the stool at the kitchen island, while Jake sat Ella down on hers. He cut them up an apple, splitting it between the two of them, and giving them each a big dollop of peanut butter to go with. 

“Where’s Mommy?” Alex asked, looking around the kitchen for the usual bright ball of sunshine that was Y/N Seresin. 

“She’s uh,” Jake cleared his throat, “She’s not feeling well. She’s laying down right now.” 

“What wrong wit Mommy?” Ella asked, looking up at Jake with those big green eyes. Jake knew that at some point in time, they needed to talk to the kids about what happened, but he was hoping that he would have some time to gather his thoughts before telling them. If it was up to Jake, he would wait to talk to them, but he also knew that Y/N hated keeping things from them. 

“Your mommy,” Jake shook his head, “We found out today that. . . we lost the baby.” The room was silent for a moment as the five and two-and-a-half-year-old were trying to come to terms with what their father just said. How does one even explain the circle of life to kids? 

“How?” Ella asked. 

“I’m not really sure, Elles,” Jake said, running his hand over her blonde hair, “Sometimes, it just happens. There’s no explanation. There’s no reason. Sometimes, God decides he needs the baby a bit more than we do.” 

Alex blinked a couple of times, staring at the bottom wrung of the chair that Steve had chewed up, “Is that Baby with Uncle Bradley’s mom and dad?” 

Jake nodded, “Yeah. The baby is with Uncle Bradley’s mom and Dad, and Grandpa Seresin, and the dog your mommy had as a child, and Aunt Dragon’s babies.” 

“I don’t wike that,” Ella pouted, as the tears slowly started to roll down her cheeks. Jake cooed and walked over to her, picking her up in his arms, and holding her head against his chest as she cried. 

“I know, baby girl, I know,” Jake sniffled, “No one does. It’s hard to lose the people you love,” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “All we can do now, is show mama some love, give her some extra cuddles. She’s going to be sad for a while.” 

“I wanna go to Mommy,” Ella mumbled and Jake nodded. He carried Ella in his arms and walked up the stairs toward their shared room. Alex stayed in his spot, still staring at that beat-up wrung of the stool. 

Jake knocked softly on the bedroom door, waiting for the invite from Y/N to let him in. He knew not to overcrowd her and make her feel uncomfortable. Sometimes Y/N reminded him of a scared, feral dog that had been kicked one too many times. But her quiet, soft voice granted him permission to come in, and Jake gently pushed the door open. 

Y/N was facing the door and looked up to see her baby girl with tears rolling down her cheeks. Y/N gave Jake a sad smile and shifted a bit in bed to make room for Ella. Silently, Jake stepped across the threshold and brought Ella to Y/N. 

“My baby girl, what are the tears for?” Y/N asked Ella, as Jake pulled back the covers and gently placed her next to her mom. 

“I don’t want you to be sad,” Ella mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. 

“I know,” Y/N said softly, “I’ll only be sad for a little while, I promise.” She pulled Ella in close to her chest and rubbed her back. Ella was like Jake in so many ways, that the small gesture was a sure way to make them both fall asleep. 

Jake smiled at his girls before returning downstairs to make Y/N some tea. Alex was still in the same spot as he was when Jake went upstairs. He eyed his child as he filled and set the kettle on the stove. Jake always felt like he had a hard time connecting with Alex. Y/N was already four months pregnant with him when Jake came home from a mission. And Jake had to leave when he was only three months old for another mission. Alex was also the complete opposite of his father and Jake struggled to find things they had in common. 

“What’re you thinking about, Lex?” Jake asked, leaning against the counter. 

“Do you know where I can get white roses?” Alex said, looking up at his dad. Jake’s eyebrows furrowed, “Uncle Rooster always gets Aunt Dragon white roses on Ida’s birthday. He says they are for membrance.” 

“Remembrance,” Jake said, “And I think I know a place where we can get some.” 

— — — 

Three days later, Jake and Alex were in the middle of Y/N’s garden, while she sat in a chair with Ella. Doctor Carpenter told her to take the next couple of days easy while her body and mind processed the news of the miscarriage. The kids had been a great help, keeping Y/N’s mind off the loss and giving her the extra cuddles that she didn’t know she needed. 

“White Roses love the sun,” Y/N said, as Alex finished digging the whole, “You picked a perfect spot, Alex.” 

The little boy wiped the sweat from his brow as Jake brought over the poted plant, “Thanks, momma.” 

“Alright Ella, you want to come help with this?” Jake asked, and the little girl happily obliged. She wiggled out of her moms lap and walked over to where the two boys were standing. 

Jake gently pulled the rose bush from the bucket it sat in, remembering all the critiques Y/N gave him while he helped her plant to other flowers in the garden. Ella and Alex cupped the bottom of the plant as they gently eased it into the hole. Y/N stood up from her chair and walked over to her family, watching as the kids covered the base of the rose bush with fresh soil. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes as Jake put his arm around her, pulling her flush against his side. 

“There!” Alex said, clapping the dirt off of his hands, “Do you like it?!” 

“We love it, baby,” Jake smiled, “Now come here! Family hug!” Y/N giggled as the kids ran right towards their legs, hugging them tightly, “I love you guys, with all my heart, and all my being.”

taglist: @damrlova @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388 @mygyn @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @na-ta-sh-aa @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @lunamoonbby @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @dempy @lovelywiseprincess @krismdavis @eternallyvenus @dakotakazansky @pono-pura-vida @callsignharper @callsignartemis @starberryhorse @daggersquadphantom @gspenc @poppyalice2001 @els-marvelvsp @nyx2021 @t0kyoreveng3rs @frazie99 @spencvrr @kmc1989 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @toobouquet @malindacath @justenoughmadness @sagittarius-flowerchild

taglist form

[rereisstuff]

WHY CAN’T YOU LOVE ME?!

summary: you’ve been happy with seungcheol for years now, what changed?

pairings: idol!s.coups x idol!reader

note: angst, angst and more angst and my man coups a bad boyfriend, also this is my introduction to svt to my page enjoy, some requests should be out soon!

being both of you idols allowed you to have more privileges but, what if the limitations were bigger?

at the begging of the relationship Cheol and you were worried about being caught or even rumored but now the problems were different.

“i can’t di this anymore, i really can’t” you cried into your leader’s shoulder who patted your head in compassion.

so, Chan and Mingyu caught a flu so Seungcheol, being an apprehensive leader, called you to cancel the dinner you were having…for your 2nd anniversary.

and yes, in the call he didn’t sounded as he knew the importance of the date.

often you told these problems to your leader, thinking it was your problem for not being empathic but then you realized that Sojung wasn’t like Cheol with your bandmates.

soon, yo realized it was nobody’s fault, just a lack of mutual communication and time.

but enough is enough.

“I’m breaking up with with him Jung-ah, i’m tired” you picked up your bag, wiped your face as walking towards the door.

Sojung nodded in silence and walked you out, gave you a forehead kiss and left you alone.

and there you were, knocking at Cheol’s place, everything seemed so familiar and warm, you fought the urge to ugly cry.

Chan opened the door, looking extremely rough, making you feel guilty because what if it was Yewon the one needing you? you would be there and Seungcheol wouldn’t say a word.

but it was late, and there was other things going on.

“hi Chan, how you feeling?” you couldn’t help to touch his forehead, you raised him and Yewon at the same time, how could you not be worried?

“hi noona, i’m fine now that i see you” he flirted making you smile, well someone was up to you.

“stop it, i feed you and you flirt with my girl” Seungcheol appeared, messy hair and loose gym pants, a spoon in hand and a salt shaker at the other.

i can give him another chance, i just love him so much you thought as he walked over you, if he remember today’s date we can do this.

“i thought of visiting, as we couldn’t hang today”

“oh baby but i was thinking of making it up for you other day! you know it’s not at special occasion so we can move it!”

that’s it.

“i can’t do this anymore Cheol, i support you in the same way you do it for me” you could feel the tears rising up and Chan was gone.

“what? baby are you…”

“i’m not okay! today we would turn two years together! and you couldn’t even remember cause i don’t matter and i’m tired of being the second option”

“i have to take care of them, of everything! i’m tired too honey, understand please” he said softly and almost desperately, destroyed about hearing your feelings.

“they’re not the same kids you took care of Cheol, you don’t have to worry about them anymore!”

“i have to! i really need to!” he almost yelled at you, and then you understood it, it was lost cause, it’s over.

“farewell then Seungcheol, thank you for your love and time”

you walked towards him, kissed his tear-stained cheek and almost ran out the room.

you knew that was it, he would try to come back but even if you loved him, you didn’t want him to.

[moonstruckme]

Hi my love. Can you do a quick little blurby with whoever you think will fit this. The request is the reader was literally forgotten by her coworkers. They were all going to go out after work but they forgot her and went out without her. Just a comfort fic because this literally happened to me and I want to curl up and cry

Hi my love, I'm so sorry that this happened to you but I really hope things have been sorted out and/or you're feeling better now. Thank you for requesting sweetheart <3

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 957 words

Steve wonders if maybe he’s holding you too tight. He’s got one arm around your ribcage and the other curled over your shoulders so he can hold the nape of your neck, but he keeps having to squash bouts of his own indignant fury to focus on comforting you. 

Unfortunately, this is not something he can handle with a bat. 

“I’m sure they didn’t mean to,” he mumbles next to your head. Your cheek is pressed close to his, your arms hung loosely around his shoulders. You’d come home to find him on the couch and simply draped yourself over him, desperate for affection he was all too happy to give you, even if it’s a bit less fun and games when you’re upset. You’re not even really crying, just clinging to him as a slow, relentless stream of tears flows out of you. 

“I know.” You sound so dejected Steve feels like someone’s taken the bat to him, your voice croaky and tired. “I don’t think they were trying to be mean, they just…didn’t remember me.” 

“Being inconsiderate still makes them a bunch of douchebags,” he says, thumb stroking the baby hairs on your neck. 

Steve likes to think he was never that much of a douchebag, but witnesses would probably testify otherwise. Robin would gleefully skip to the front of the line. She’d actually referred to his past self as a douche-canoe once. Steve isn’t sure what exactly that means, but he’s guessing it didn’t make him a whole lot better than these guys. 

“You should come work with me and Robs,” he offers, only half joking. You normally love your job, but he hates seeing you like this enough to think that maybe that doesn’t matter so much. “The pay’s worse, but we’re way more fun to be around.” 

You sniffle, tightening your grip around his shoulders affectionately. “Thanks, Stevie. But it’s not that I don’t like them. They’re cool, usually.” Steve makes a reluctant grunting sound, though he knows this to be true. Prior to today’s incident, he’d actually been looking forward to meeting some of them. “I just wish I weren’t so forgettable.” 

It takes Steve a second to actually process what you’ve said, and then his heart sputters in his chest. “Hey, what?” He pulls away from you, curling his hands around your upper arms. “Babe, this hasn’t got anything to do with you.” 

The look in your eyes is less despair than resignation. You seem almost sorry to contradict him. “It’s not like they didn’t invite me. They were trying to be nice, they just didn’t notice that I wasn’t there when they left. What else do you call that?” 

“Not your fault,” he insists, nose scrunching bewilderedly as he shakes his head at you. “That’s what I call it. Listen, I” —he sighs— “I don’t want to sound like I’m advocating for these assholes, but you know how things can get when you’re in a group like that. Everybody’s all excited about whatever you’re all going to do, and if somebody says they’re ready to go, you go. They were probably each thinking you were with someone else. Actually, I can almost guarantee they weren’t thinking at all.” 

Your mouth pulls to one side, dissatisfied but considering. You give a little shrug. “I guess.” But you’re just appeasing him, Steve can tell. 

Fuck, he hates talking about this. The things he does for you, he swears. 

“Look, I was an asshole kid once too,” he says, and he’s aiming for lightness but he can tell by the way your eyes lock on his that you know the significance of him bringing this up. It’s not a legacy he’s proud of. “I could…okay, I’m not happy about it, but I could kind of see myself doing something like that a few years ago. I was an idiot, right? We agree?”

Almost despite yourself, you give a little smile. Steve goes on, encouraged. 

“So I can say, practically from experience, that I wouldn’t have been thinking about who was there and who wasn’t. I would’ve been too caught up in the idea of what we were doing to pay attention. But that just makes me a dick, it doesn’t mean anything about you.” 

You tilt your head, giving him one of those thoughtful, open looks he loves so much. He likes it when you let him see all of you on your face. Makes his boyfriend duties a lot easier. “You’re not a dick,” you say softly. 

“I was,” he says, and it’s not hard to admit when you’re here in front of him, living proof that he’s got to be doing something right these days. He rubs your upper arms roughly. “But you’re not forgettable.” 

You sniff again. Steve is pleased to note that your tear ducts seem to have emptied their reserves enough for the time being. He’s not sure whether that’s because you believe him or because you’re just choosing to let his affection outweigh your coworkers’ callousness for the evening, but either is alright with him. He can love you enough to make up for all of those fuckers. 

“Can I hug you again?” you ask, and he’s quick to oblige you, slotting you back between his arms where you belong. 

“When you go back to work, I bet they’re all going to feel really bad,” Steve grumbles, letting his grip tighten slightly around your ribcage. “But if you want to just avoid all that, the option to come work at Family Video is still open. I know a guy.” 

Your laugh is croaky but real, and the sound of it makes Steve want to squeeze the life out of you for happiness. “I’ll think about it.” 

[nyoomfruits]

32 & 60 for the AU mash up fic 😊

32. pregnancy fic + 60. poorly timed confesssion

Really, it’s all Lando’s own damn fault. He was the one who started the conversation about wanting kids but struggling with dating. It was just to lament to his best friend, sure, and it was Oscar who had jokingly said, “Maybe we should just have a kid together then, since I’m having the same problem”, sure, but like. It had been Lando who’d said “… That’s not a bad idea actually.”

(“We’ll be like, bro dads. Brads.”

Oscar frowns at him. "Do you mean those Barbie dolls they made in the early 2000’s?”

“What? No, it’s us. With our cute little baby. It’ll be perfect.”)

So yeah. Foot, mouth. And the worst part was, Oscar's a wonderful dad, and the baby isn't even there yet. He sat with Lando every time he puked his guts out in the first trimester, rubbing his back as Lando sat hunched over the toilet seat. He painted the nursery in a cute blue/green/yellow color scheme and then redid the whole thing when Lando determined the green was ‘too green’. He’d given Lando unlimited foot massages, without asking, when everything started to become quite tiring in the second trimester.

And now here he was. Tying Lando’s shoes because Lando really wanted to wear his sneakers, tired of the boring slip on’s, but no longer capable of tying them himself because his humongous third trimester belly is making bending down absolutely impossible.

And it’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid, because everyone else probably saw this coming from a mile away. Because it’s Oscar. And Oscar is lovely and wonderful and kind and it has to be impossible not to fall in love with him.

Which Lando has. Fallen in love with him, that is. Which is really, really fucking inconvenient.

They made a promise, when they started this whole thing. A promise that they wouldn’t lie to each other, wouldn’t keep stuff from each other. Open and honest communication and all that. So he has to. Has to tell him.

“I’m in love with you,” Lando blurts out, in the middle of Oscar’s monologue about their plans for that day. He stops mid-sentence, looks up from where he’s double looping the laces of Lando’s left sneaker, merely stares. “Yup,” Lando says. “That’s. Yeah. And I know this is like terrible timing because we’re literally having a baby together but. We said. Open communication, so. This is me, openly communicating.”

“Lando,” Oscar says, slowly getting up so they’re face to face again. “Are you. Is this real?”

Lando nods, a little miserable, and then suddenly there’s hands on his face and he’s being pulled closer and closer and closer and then they’re kissing.

It’s soft, and gentle, and Lando’s belly gets horribly in the way, but it’s real.

“Oh,” Lando says, when they pull away. “That’s. I like that.”

“Me too,” Oscar says, smiling softly.

And they have a lot of stuff to talk about. All the who what why where's of it all. But this, this is a start. And like, they’ve been nailing all of this so far, so. They got this too, he reckons.

Open communication and all that.

[rileyslibrary]

HELLO!!!! Soo i was wondering if you could do a very strictly platonic COD MW2 141 (or others, whatever u want!) x gn or fem (she/they pronouns or they/them pronouns, both are fine to me) reader 😸 it can be them interacting, or on a mission, or something along those lines!!! For aome specifications, i was thinking of the reader being the youngest in the 141, but still very skilled at what they do. Lots of love!!! ❤️❤️

Hmmm…I believe have just the thing for you, anon! *climbs up the rolling library ladder and comes down with a story*. I was saving this for another time but, here, you can have it.

(It doesn’t have everything you requested in it, and I added a few things here and there, but I think it works. Enjoy!)

———————————————————————

“Are they okay?”

“I don’t know, but I think they’re breathing.”

“You sure?”

Soap hikes up his pants and settles on a bench, a few meters away from where your body lies. He tilts his head and squints his eyes, searching for any signs of movement.

“Yes,” he finally says to Gaz, who sits beside him, legs stretched out and back resting against the concrete wall. “You’re right—they’re breathing.”

You all just returned to your temporary base from your latest mission, exhausted but unharmed. It has been a while since you managed to secure a win, and a much-needed one at that, after a string of defeats which began to take a toll on the team’s morale. Fights started to break out, filled with little jabs of what could have been done better, whose fault it was, and pointing fingers instead of acknowledging the team’s effort.

On the outside, you maintained a professional facade for the contractors and the world, but the strain was beginning to show behind closed doors. It was like a house with a pristine front porch, while the backyard concealed a chaotic mess, hidden from view.

But this time, you nailed it—all of you. Whether it was luck, improved communication, better strategy, or the alignment of stars, you managed to come through. And suddenly, the future seemed a little brighter, for now.

“I can hear you, you know.” You murmur, slowly pushing yourself up into a seated position.

“Didn’t mean to disturb you,” Soap says, “we were just making sure you were alright; you took quite the beating earlier.”

You give him a tired smile. “No worries,” you reply, stretching your arms and legs. “I was just doing some breathing exercises to relax.”

“You know,” he says to Gaz, “I read about these breathing exercises, and they’re supposed to—”

“You read?”

Your attention shifts to the corner nearby, where Ghost and Price stand, engaged in their conversation about the mission. Price smiles at Ghost’s comment, but Ghost’s tone suggests he isn’t joking. It’s hard to tell since his voice always sounds the same, whether telling jokes or giving orders.

“Yes,” Soap replies, “and they say it’s supposed to help calm certain edgy, skull-faced boys.”

“As a matter of fact, I think you would all benefit from this,” you state, spreading your arms wide, inviting them to join you. “Lie down.”

“Not my way of calming down, kid,” Ghost replies, “I’d much rather prefer a glass of bourbon.”

“Do you have a glass of bourbon right now, Lt?”

“No.”

“Then lie down.”

“Order me one more time, you little sh-”

Price claps his hands once and places his right hand on Ghost’s shoulder, giving him gentle pats.

“Come on, brother,” he says, “We have nothing else to do right now—our flight won’t be arriving anytime soon, and my back is killing me.”

You’ve often wondered what makes the Lieutenant so salty, and each time you resorted to blaming that mask of his. Having it on all the time must be uncomfortable, like a bra that you can’t wait to sling across the room at the end of a long day. But you never doubted what brings him back to his senses or at least makes him more accepting—it was Price himself.

Ghost sighs and removes the towel he had draped over his shoulder. He places it on the ground and lies down. Soap, Gaz, and Price follow his lead, with Price placing a towel while the others rest directly on the concrete. Ghost mutters something like “ya filthy mutts” under his breath, and you make soothing hushing noises to prevent any potential conflict from arising. The last thing you want right now is a simple breathing exercise to turn into a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu session.

You wait for them to settle in a comfortable position, and with a gentle voice, you begin guiding them through.

“Let’s start by taking a deep breath through the nose,” you whisper. “Feel the air fill your lungs. Hold it in, then slowly exhale through your mouth.”

You continue the guidance, leading them through a series of deep breaths. You focus on the softness in your voice and pair it with the rhythm of your words to create a soothing cadence.

“As you inhale, imagine a wave washing over you,” you continue. “And as you exhale, imagine releasing any burden, letting it drift away with each breath.”

As you guide them through the breathing exercise, everything becomes so serene, even for you, who acts as their guide. There’s some heavy breathing and slight shifting here and there, but that’s much better than the usual arguments, yelling, and complaints. There are no more blame games or defeated postures. You have all worked so hard. Now you and the team can finally find some peace.

You twist your body to look at your teammates, and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you find them all asleep, like children at nap time.

Ghost has one hand behind his head, the other resting on his chest. He has finally let go of the tension that usually consumes him. So much for that glass of bourbon, Lieutenant, you think to yourself.

Soap is curled up to the side, with his knees drawn closer to his body. He has formed a pillow with his hands and placed them under his head.

Next to him, Gaz lies on his back, one leg straight and the other bent to the side, like a ballerina caught mid-spin.

Price placed his hat on his face, shielding his eyes from the light. His legs are crossed, and his fingers are interlocked on his stomach.

You continue speaking, but softer now, to avoid waking them. You rise up, careful not to disturb them, and move silently to the door, leaving it slightly open, to not startle them upon closing it.

You step out into the hallway and close your eyes, taking one deep breath of your own.

———————————————————————

[sideeve]

IF IT’S NOT ME

ingredients :: “established” relationship , threaten of a divorce and taking the kids (by f!r) , piv sex , missionary , br*eding k!nk? , normal workaholic!nami , angst + smut/fluff ending , based off my bot

your feet splashing through the puddles took your mind off of everything. your husband, his job, your kids missing their father. everything. you were drenched. but to you, it was better than wallowing in your insecurities.

the sound off a car pulling up on the curb mixed in with the pattering rain drops hitting your shoulder. nanami rolls the window down, the car’s speed matching with yours. “[name], get in the car. it’s too cold for you to be out here.”

if it weren’t for you not answering his messages, he wouldn’t be here. he knew the messages were going through to you and he also knew that you were ignoring each one. “i’m not gonna say it again. get in the car.” realizing that his words weren’t getting through to you, he rushes out the car, sliding out of his suit coat and putting it on you. “will you ever listen to me?”

the car ride consisted of nanami scolding you for not letting him know that you were going on a walk or not listening to him. “this isn’t about you proving how much of an independent woman you are. it’s about you not getting sick.”

he stops the car, looking at you—waiting for you to say something. you knew what this would lead to. you have your face stuffed in a pillow, crying out his name his tip kisses your cervix with each stroke.

but you were tired of that. you didn’t even care about the state of your marriage. you just wanted him to know how hurt his children are because of his absence. it pained your heart each time you heard them cry and beg for their father to come home, consoling them while telling them that it’s not their fault.

not wanting to add to the already annoying equation nanami has made, you step out the car, fishing for your keys and you approach the front door. before you can slide the key into the hole, nanami stops you, mumbling something about a woman shouldn’t be opening a door as he opens the door for you.

“can you explain what that was about?” he rummages through cabinets, grabbing a cup before filling it with water. “and why you couldn’t talk to me about it?” “because we’ve talked about this already.” he turns to you, his face giving a faux shocked face. “have we? does it pertain to my job?” he takes a sip of his drink with heavy eyes.

“you’re never home—” “here we go.” he sets the glass down, preparing for the far from foreign conversation. “i can’t just quit my job. it’s how i put food on the table, [name].” “no one is telling you to quit your job!”

nanami pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing in frustration. he wasn’t one to yell at the ones he loves. and on top of that, your kids where sleeping in a room not that far. “do you see this house? we have this because i work my ass off day and night while you sit your lousy ass on a couch, waiting for me.”

his words jab at you, making your heart twinge. lousy? lousy?! “i’m done.” you walk past him, heading towards the kids’ room. “what are you doing?” nanami was hot on your trail. “i’m done having this conversation. this time, it wasn’t even about me.” having both children in your arms, you head to the front door but not before turning to nanami once more. “it was about our kids.”

he follows you to the car, spewing swears and insults as you try to console your already upset children. “it’s okay. we’re just going to stay with your uncle for a while as mommy gets a job.” you kiss both of their foreheads as you fasten their seatbelts.

“you can’t do this. they’re my children.” nanami tried to catch you before you close the driver’s door, hitting the window. you’ve never seen him this angry. he always kept his composure in tense situations so this was foreign. but you were tired of having to console your babies every night he failed to make it home at a timely manner; it hurt you to know that your children felt unloved by their father.

“i’ll be back for their things tomorrow.” with that, you drive off, leaving nanami shocked and distraught.

the next morning, you fulfilled your promise. you showed up at his house early to collect your children’s belongings. you knocked which was useless since you still had a copy of the house keys.

“oh, you’re here.” he quickly lets you in. it has been less than a day and he looks like shit. the house’s energy had shifted. “is this your way of asking for a divorce?” he pops a question.

“yes, nanami. it is. i’ll have the papers for you to sign soon.” you head to kid’s room, beginning to take all of their belongings in a bag. “and if i don’t sign the papers?” you groan. “don’t be childish.”

“so did we mean nothing to you?” “that’s rich coming from you. you’re barely home so this divorce won’t feel any different from the last few weeks.” you step closer to him. “you keep telling me you’re working to keep a roof over our heads but what are you doing to keep this family together?”

you could hear the cogs in his head turning as he thought of the next thing to say. but he was defeated. he couldn’t come to terms with being an absent father and husband.

his arms pull you into an unexpected hug, leaving you to feel stiff in the hug. “i’m sorry. i—i don’t know what to do. i never wanted this to…” he trails off, hoping you get what he was trying to convey. “i know.” you return the hug, resting your head on his chest.

“can we talk about this? actually take about this. i can’t lose you and the kids.” he leans back, looking you in the eyes. you could tell how much of his guard he let down. he was vulnerable in this moment. he was about to lose the only thing he valued—cherished.

you two had came to agreement. nanami and you would create a reasonable schedule for him in order for him to be in you and your kids’ lives more. “i think we did good.” you put the cap on the expo marker, looking down at the dry-erase calendar, decorated with events and notes. you look up at him, quickly disregarding your anger. “don’t you think?” you smile at him.

though you had pure intentions, nanami’s mind was in a feral state. he hadn’t seen you care for him like this in months and he didn’t realize how much he missed it. it was…sexy.

he gently but quickly pulls you in for a kiss, “jump.” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist as your legs wrap around his. your mouths hadn’t left each others as he moves to your shared bedroom.

he placed you softly on the mattress, quickly shrugging off both yours and his clothes. “i’m sorry,” he mumbles in your skin, kissing down the valley of your breasts, “fuck—i’m sorry.” his fingers loop on the side of your underwear, pulling them off. he gasps as he takes in the sight of your glistening cunt. it had been a while since you two had been active but he remembered the workings of your body.

his thumbs starts to draw tight circles on your clit, “say you forgive me.” he demands softly. he knew you already did. he just needed to hear it verbally for him to be satisfied with himself. “say it.”

at that moment, the only thing that could come out were whines and incoherent responses. you mustered up any type of strength and muscle mobility for you to speak. “i forgive you!” you whine, thrashing your body as his circles get tighter and tighter.

“good girl.”

those words were enough to send you of the edge. you missed his praise, his attentiveness to your body. everything. he pumps his lengths a couple times before bottoming himself in, earning a gasp from you. he winces at how tight you were, “i’ve been neglecting you, my love.” his hand creeps down your arm before intertwining his hand with yours, putting your hand by your head.

his hips push into yours, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the bedroom. nanami’s praises pushed you closer and closer to your second orgasm. you swore you saw heaven each time his cock slide in and down your gummy walls.

he leans down to press and kiss on your lips, whispering—chanting ‘i love you’s. “i’m gonna put a baby in you.” he grunted with intention, his hips quickening.

you felt his load pour into you, your back arching as you followed suit. “fuck.” his hips stop. he closes his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. he slowly slides out of you, laying down next to you while facing you. “what do you think this one with be?” you crack a joke, crossing your legs as you turn to a girl. “i hope it’ll be a girl.” he kisses your cheek, pulling you close to him, your head tucked under his chin.

[shakespearean-dream]

TW!!! — blood, scarring and mild body horror ahead 🥲

benny’s turn!

before i start i wanna clarify i hesitated a bit on posting this because lovely mutual @vor-leser just posted his benny interpretation (go look at it and follow him btw), and idk if we like mind melded or smth but our human benny’s are super similar LOL. i damn near scrapped the whole thing out of fear someone would get mad at me but i Would Not be able to start over and get this done ever so this is as good as we’re gonna get. 😭 my apologies niko love u /p

this has been like a full 7 days in the making 😭😭 the art block that i felt coming on while doing ellen and ted hit me like an optimus prime sized semi truck this week along with a depressive episode so i definitely appreciate that happening and i am not upset about it at all! /s i’m totally good so don’t worry or anything /gen, mental health is just weird and i also wanted to explain the gap in my posts 😔

i do not know how to feel about this drawing if i’m so fr with you; i’m proud of myself for AM-ified benny cause i think i got the slowly rotting from the inside out primal freak energy down pretty good, but on the other hand this feels kinda empty?? i usually have a lot more commentary squished in here but i think my brain’s a little fried 🤦‍♂️ i love drawing me some beautiful buff men though so drawing normal ben was familiar territory. however his wack ass haircut i gave him is his punishment for being a PRICK!!! go sit in the corner and think about ur actions benjamin.

like ted n the rest of the sillies i’m not straying too far from canon with his personality, he’s an ass and a murderer and a hella smart dickhead who desperately needs to be punished by the universe (thank you for that one AM). hot take i did not like his “redemption arc” in his game scenario and i don’t think with how he was throughout the entirety of his life (and also throughout the game, main example his inner dialogue) he would actually go out of his way to help the kid because he means it??? n prove he changed to the guys he killed cause he means it??? i dunno maybe AM torturing him made him have a main character “omg i’ve been in the wrong this whole time!!1” moment like the game suggests i’m just not buying it 💀 i’m sure it’s just cause bennys scenario couldn’t be too long and they couldn’t fully flesh him out which i won’t fault the game makers for. i’m a steven universe fan, i know what time constrictions can do to a plot and redemption arc 😭 looking at you white diamond…

his wife n kids are up top and they’re kinda neat to me— i was considering the hc that part of the reason manya (his canon wife) left him is because she realized she was a lesbian which would be funny as fuck considering benny’s also One Of Them Queers 😭. i think during the brief times he was home and able to parent his daughters they got really scared and tired of him, one because he’s just a very threatening powerful and overbearing man, but also because i feel like he would’ve been on their ASS about everything. grades, extracurriculars, friends, wardrobe, this guy was micromanaging his family to an annoying extreme (ofc because of his perfectionist complex). he probably loved manya and the kids in his own weird way, but it was more contractual to him than any real personal relationship. maybe he inherited that from his own parents?? i doubt he ever talked to them after he moved out.

that’s about the end of my thoughts on this fucker. 🥲 funny storyyyy i just remembered i have laundry to finish so im gonna go do that, lord help me. thank you for reading all this if you did!!!!! we’re over halfway through so who do yall want next? wanna save AM or nimdok for last? i’ll see u guys later :]]]

[vodika-vibes]

I need to see Papa Wolffe doting on his child rn—

A New Addition

Summary: Wolffe gets to meet his newborn several hours after she's born.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader

Word Count: 700

Warnings: Discussions of mother's dying in child birth (what do the clones know about natborn births, after all)

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So. Not exactly him doting on his kid, but a first introduction is not a bad way for the story to go, right?

You stir awake at the light knock on the door, and you smile at the familiar face that pokes into the room. Familiar, in part, because Wolffe has millions of identical brothers, but also because he’s Wolffe, and you’d recognize your riduur even if he was dressed identically to his brothers.

“Hey, can I come in?”

A warm smile crosses your face, “You don’t have to ask, love.” You reply gently.

He slips into the room, silently closing the door behind him, “Just making sure.” Wolffe crosses the room and takes a seat next to you, and then he immediately reaches out and smooths some hair out of your face, “How are you feeling, cyare?”

“Exhausted.” You reply with a small smile, “But also, really good.” You lean into his touch, “How are you?”

“I wish I had been here for you.”

You hum softly, “Not your fault.”

“I still feel bad,” He takes your hand in his and brings your joined hands to his lips to press a light kiss against your fingers, his gaze is locked on the small cradle next to your hospital bed, “Is that her?”

You laugh softly, “It is. Our Ellie.” You extend your fingers to brush against his cheek, “Go on and introduce yourself.”

He starts, “Am I allowed?”

A slightly louder laugh falls from you, “She’s your daughter, Wolffe. Of course you can.”

He releases your hand and stands to walk around the bed. Once he’s at the small cradle he just stares into it for a moment, “She’s so…small.”

“She’s only a couple of hours old, riduur.”

“The Tubies never looked so small back on Kamino. Is she healthy?”

“She is. Just small. My fault, I’m afraid.” You reply with a small smile. And your smile grows as you watch him reach into the cradle to scoop the infant into his arms. 

“She looks like you,” Wolffe murmurs as he cradles Ellie in his arms.

“Really? I think she looks like you.” He turns to sit on the edge of the bed, bringing Ellie into reach. She’s still asleep. “Those Fett genes run true,” You joke quietly, as you brush a light finger against Ellie’s dark cheek, and then up through her dark curls.

“My coloring, maybe.” Wolffe allows, “but she has your features. A perfect mix of us.” He pauses, “Cyare,” He admits, his voice quiet, “I don’t know anything about being a parent-”

“Shh. Neither do I. We’ll learn together.” You smile at the baby, and then up at Wolffe, “We’re going to be fine, I know it.”

“Well, if you say so then it must be true.” Wolffe teases as he leans in and kisses your forehead, “My brothers and General Koon are in the lobby, can I take her to meet them?”

You hum thoughtfully, “Why don’t you give Ellie to me, and then you can bring them in here to meet her?” You offer.

Wolffe flashes a small grin, “Even better idea, I know they’re worried about you too. Cody made the mistake of asking General Kenobi about natborn childbirth, and they were convinced that you were going to die.”

“Well, not on Coruscant.” You admit with a tired smile as you take your baby from him.

Wolffe blinks, “Wait, what?”

“Women generally don’t die in childbirth on Coruscant unless something goes really wrong.” You clarify as you adjust Ellie on your chest, “If my midwife had been concerned, I would have reached out to the temple for help, Wolffe. So, no need to worry.”

“...okay. I’m going to go and get the others.” He kisses your forehead once more, and then he ducks his head to kiss Ellie’s head, before he circles the room again, and steps into the hallway.

Only minutes later, the room is flooded with people. General Koon immediately takes a place next to the bed to quietly talk to you while Wolffe shows Ellie off to his brothers.

And when they leave an hour later, Ellie’s picture has been taken a dozen times, and she’s been officially named as the Wolfpack’s mascot. And also the mascot for most of the other Battalions as well.

After all, she is the first niece.

[idkfitememate]

Hi, I love your Boar!Creator And the relationship he has with the children, but what do you think of a responsible/paternal and tired Hawk!Creator trying to avoid the pranks of Boar!Creator and the children, trying to avoid the destruction of Mondstad at the hands of Boar! Creator and children.I like to imagine The Falcon!Creator in the tavern with Jean, Diluc and Venti ranting and trying to avoid going crazy over The Boar!Creator pranks

Tired dad vibes. Disappointed dad comin’ through-

Hawk!Creator whose first interaction was Boar being a time when they and Diona absolutely destroyed Diluc’s vineyard and going “Welp-“

I can hear the creaking bones from here man. They keep track of everything Boar does and lets the adults know so they can fix whatever chaos arises.

Their wings are so muscular and strong from all they flying they’re forced to do to make sure Mond stays habitable-

The amount of times they’ve had to intercept Dvalin from Stormterror-ing on Boar’s command is crazy dude-

They are so close to seeing if alcohol works on them (Diluc keeps denying them like the hawk lover he is-)

Hawk riding on Boar’s back and pecking them every time they have an extremely destructive idea.

Venti still isn’t safe tho, he’s the only one that Hawk “just so happens” to overlook sometimes. Not their fault he’s so short-

Just disappointed dad figure Hawk who wants the best for their city but also wants to make sure Boar is happy and safe.

I always fall back on the “they were friends in real life” and now all I see is tired Professor who knows these kids are on their last leg and keeps them in line while making sure their happy and awe my little heart ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა-

[itsnevercasual]

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

part ii

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

warnings: none really.. not edited.

summary: in which y/n's friends book her an amazing gig, but they don't mention anything about her favorite singer being in attendance.

request: nope!

your friends were more than aware of your obsession with harry styles. it’s not like it was a secret.

so, it only made sense that when you started to sing in bars and cafes — anywhere, really — that you’d always incorporate something of his into it. whether it be a love on tour crewneck, a song of his, a one direction song, or a song about him — you loved to cover style, because.. who didn’t want to strut on a stage to a song everyone knows?

however, you weren’t aware of what they were planning when they somehow booked you in a very prestigious bar.

the dress-code for this bar was strict. your usual get-up of jeans and a crewneck — or jeans and anything, really — was vetoed before you could even ask. so, you searched through the depths and trenches of your closet until you found a black, skin-tight cocktail dress that ended right at your mid-thigh.

“seriously, babe. you know sign of the times inside and out. you’re just psyching yourself out,” one of your friends, melanie, told you.

“i know, but.. still.”

“you doubt yourself too much.”

“so you tell me everyday. now shoo! i’ve gotta be onstage in five.”

you weren’t exactly sure how you got onstage. you’re pretty sure you blacked out.

as you nervously scanned the crowd, you spoke into the mic, “hi.. my name is y/n. uh.. i’ll be singing some songs tonight. i figured since it’s christmas eve, i could sing through a few.. christmas classics or whatever. so.. yeah!”

a few people in the audience laughed at your awkwardness.

you sang through last christmas first, which really boosted your confidence. the audience was very interactive, singing, dancing, and clapping along.

you sang a few other christmas classics. santa baby, let it snow, things like that.

and then.. it was time for the section you very much dreaded. your songs.

“so.. these next few songs are songs that i wrote. they’re.. like.. my babies. so.. please be nice to them,” you laughed.

you nodded to the band. a silent signal that they could start the music.

“when you first told me about her, you said she was thirty. and i just can’t help but think.. you knew it was dirty. and maybe you were just a little sad, but there’s no excuse to lie to me like that. but when you first told me about her, you said she was thirty,” you took a deep breath before belting the chorus, “but she’s only twenty-eight. i’m not even half her age. she probably just had her first high school reunion. you’re probably the first guy she’s ever moved in with. you think that i wanna hate. but you set me up this way. so for my health i’ll be blocking your number, ‘cause you couldn’t wait till i got a bit older.”

the crowd cheered, giving you more confidence as you walked around the stage.

“and sometimes i kinda feel like i wanna forgive. but it never crossed your mind that maybe i’m still a kid. and i’m so used to being the adult. even when you say it’s not your fault. but i’m kinda getting sick and tired of crying. so please stop lying, and lying, and lying. she’s only twenty-eight. i’m not even half her age. she probably just had her first high school reunion. you’re probably the first guy she’s ever moved in with. you think that i wanna hate. but you set me up this way. so for my health i’ll be blocking your number, ‘cause you couldn’t wait till i got a bit older. to tell me she was twenty-eight.”

as the drums and electric guitar got more intense, the lights flashed different colors.

“to tell me she was twenty-eight… what the fuck is twenty-eight? you said she’s mature, so that makes it okay. and you said she likes sports, so that makes it okay. and she’s actually pretty, so that makes it okay. but there’s nothing you can say that makes twenty-eight okay.. to me.”

the crowd cheered as you lowered the mic. a smile overtook your face as you laughed.

you walked back over to the mic stand, putting the mic in the slot as a slow, piano-ballad type song started. the lights switched to a soft white.

“they’re always charismatic. and they’ll turn up the charm. their words do something magic, saying no is really hard. they’re over-generous, you’ll never pay the bills. they’ll fall in love in seconds. die for you, or probably kill. ooh. and after six months, you’ll feel really stupid. ooh. i promise that it’s not your fault you fell for it,” you shook your head, keeping your eyes closed as you sang, “‘cause.. one little fight breaks into war. feels like you’re dying on the bathroom floor. you’ll make an excuse. you’ll say that it’s you. and the mirror’s telling you it’s true. won’t leave, can’t stay. how much are you gonna take? ‘cause you’ll always take the blame. it feels like shit, but that’s just how it is. when you love a narcissist. so if you’re feeling crazy.. i wouldn’t be surprised. the only thing they’re good at’s knowing how to gaslight. then make you feel like the most beautiful in the world. while they’re sleeping with another girl. ooh. and after six months, you’ll feel really stupid. ooh. i promise that it’s not your fault you fell for it, ‘cause.. one little fight breaks into war. feels like you’re dying on the bathroom floor. you’ll make an excuse. you’ll say that it’s you. and the mirror’s telling you it’s true. won’t leave, can’t stay. how much are you gonna take? ‘cause you’ll always take the blame. it feels like shit, but that’s just how it is. ‘cause i felt like shit. so i know how it is. when you love a narcissist.”

the crowd cheered as it went straight into another song.

“when you’d yell, i would stay quiet. you never noticed i was quiet. i was taught that speaking up was talking back. always first to say, ‘i’m sorry’, ‘cause i wanted you to like me. and i thought that’s what it took to make it last. it’s a lose, lose. that i don’t choose. but you don’t always choose the ones you love. i shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you. i was half of this dynamic. i was stable, you were manic. without you or with you comes with a cost. i got used to the excuses and emotional abuses. we kept moving the lines we never crossed. it’s a lose, lose that i don’t choose. but you don’t always choose the ones you love. shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you. i always think it’s over, but it never really is. but i can’t get the closure when you’re like this. can we switch? maybe this time you’ll be the bigger person. ‘cause i’m getting tired of carrying all your burden. it should be up to you, but you won’t admit the truth, oh-oh. shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you.”

the crowd cheered again.

“thank you! we have.. four more songs tonight. this next one is would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.”

a crew member came and slipped an electric guitar around your neck. you quietly thanked them as you cleared your throat and the music started.

“if you would’ve blinked, then i would’ve looked away at the first glance. if you tasted poison, you could’ve spit me out at the first chance. if i was some paint, did it splatter on a promising grown man? and if i was a child, did it matter? if you got to wash your hands? oh-oh, oh. all i used to do was pray. would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. if you’d never looked my way, i would’ve stayed on my knees. and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. if you never touched me, i would’ve gone along with the righteous. if i never blushed, then they could’ve never whispered about this. and if you never saved me from boredom, i could’ve gone on as i was. but, lord, you made me feel important… and then you tried to erase us. oh-oh, oh. you’re a crisis of my faith. would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. if i’d only played it safe, i would’ve stayed on my knees. and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time…. if clarity’s in death, then why won’t this die? years of tearing down our banners, you and i. living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts. give me back my girlhood, it was mine first,” as you held the note, the crowd screamed.

“and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil. at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time. oh, god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time.”

with the final strum of your electric guitar, the crowd stood up to applaud. the crew member switched out the electric guitar for an acoustic one.

“this next one is called ceilings.”

a little bit more applause.

“.. ceilings. plaster. can’t you just make it move faster? lovely to be sitting here with you. you’re kinda cute, but it’s raining. harder. my shoes are now full of water. lovely to be rained on with you. it’s kinda cute but it’s.. so short. then you’re drivin’ me home. and i don’t wanna leave, but i have to go. you kiss me in your car. and it feels like the start of a movie i’ve seen before. before… bedsheets, no clothes. touch me like nobody else does. lovely to just lay here with you. you’re kinda cute and i would say all of this. but i don’t wanna ruin the moment. lovely to sit between comfort and chaos.. but it’s over. then you’re driving me home. and it kinda comes out as i get up to go. you kiss me in your car, and it feels like the start of a movie i’ve seen before.. but it’s not real. and you don’t exist. and i can’t recall the last time i was kissed. it hits me in the car. and it feels like the end of a movie i’ve seen before. before.”

you laughed as you saw melanie and your friends stand up in the back of the bar, dancing on stools.

“i can see my friends dancing.. so badly because they love the next song,” you laugh.

“once the flight had flown. with the wilt of the rose. i slept all alone. you still wouldn’t go. let’s fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later. i see your profile and your smile on unsuspecting waiters. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. you search in every maiden’s bed for something greater, baby. was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? ‘come here,’ i whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out, baby. was it over then? and is it over now? when you lost control. red blood, white snow. blue dress on a boat. your new girl is my clone,” you smiled, knowing was part comes next. “and did you think i didn’t see you, there were flashing lights. at least i had the decency to keep my nights out sight. only rumors ‘bout my hips and thighs, and my whispered sighs. oh, lord. i think about jumping. off of very tall somethings. just to see you coming runnin’, runnin’. and say the one thing i’ve been wanting, but no. let’s. fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later. if she's got blue eyes, i will surmise that you'll probably date her. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. you search in every model's bed for something greater, baby, was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? ‘come here,’ I whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out, baby. was it over then? and is it over now? oh. oh. think i didn’t see you? there were flashing lights. at least i had the decency to keep my nights out sight. only rumors ‘bout my hips and thighs, and my whispered sighs. oh, lord. i think about jumping. off of very tall somethings. just to see you coming runnin’, runnin’. and say the one thing i’ve been wanting, but no. let’s fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later. oh. i was hoping you’d be there. and say the one thing i’be been wanting… but no.”

another round of applause as you passed off the guitar.

“so.. this song is not my song. i am.. very nervous for this, but.. this is sign of the times.”

you closed your eyes tightly as the music started, “just stop your crying, it’s a sign of the times. welcome to the final show. hope you're wearing your best clothes. you can't bribe the door on your way to the sky. you look pretty good down here. but you ain't really good.. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? … just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times. we gotta get away from here. we gotta get away from here. just stop your crying, it’ll be alright. they told me that the end is near. we gotta get away from here. just stop your crying, have the time of your life. breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here. remember everything will be alright. we can meet again somewhere. somewhere far away from here.. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? just stop your crying. it’s a sign of the times. we gotta get away from here. we gotta get away from here. stop your crying, baby, it'll be alright. they told me that the end is near we gotta get away from here. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets?” you finally opened your eyes, trying to find melanie, but instead, you find the last person you expected to be here.

the man whose song you’re literally singing.

harry was slightly weary when an over-excited girl with light pink hair came up to him and asked him — begged him, really — to come to her best friends show. he wasn’t sure what convinced him. or what possessed him to bring his mother and gemma along with him.

but he had to say, he didn’t.. regret it.

you were pretty — extremely pretty. and you were a crazy good singer. he was pretty sure you were singing his song better than him.

you swallowed your nerves as you sang the chorus and bridge, keeping eye contact even though you felt like shitting your pants. “we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we don't talk enough. we should open up. before it's all too much. will we ever learn? we've been here before. it's just what we know. stop your crying, baby. it's a sign of the times. we gotta get away. we got to get away..” you finally looked away, closing your eyes. “we got to get away. we got to get away. we got to get away. we got to, we got to, away. we got to, we got to, away. we got to, we got to, away.”

you let out a shaking exhale as the song ended, backing up from the mic. you bowed and blew kisses to the audience before practically sprinting offstage.

to: mel x

WHAT THE FUCK MELANIE WHY THE FUCK DID INJUST MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HARRY STYLES WHILE SINGING SIGN OF THE TIMES IM GONNA KILL

MY

SELF.

from: mel xx

NOOO I INVITED HIM ITS FINE

to: mel xx

you

what.

from: mel xx

I SAW HIM A WEEK AFTER WE BOOKED YOU THE GIG AND MIGHT HAVE BEGGED HIM TO COME BECAUSE I KNOW YOU WANT TO MEET HIM AND WHAT BETTER WAY THAN THIS

to: mel xx

oh i dunno

ANY OTHER WAY?

from: mel xx

BABE IT IS FINE

HE BROUGHT HIS MUM AND GEMMA TOO

to: mel xx

WHAG

from: mel xx

HE SAID HE LOVED IT AND U WERE OHENOMENAL

NOW GET OUT HERE AND MEET HIM

after taking ten minutes to breath, you walked over to the bar, finding melanie pretty easily.

“i love you so much for playing is it over now!”

“i played it just for you and your psycho obsession with it,” you laughed as she yanked you into a hug.

you two pulled away, and you turned around when you felt a presence behind you.

your eyes widened when you were face to face with harry fucking styles.

“hey.. y/n, right?”

you blinked a few times… that couldn’t be real. this was most definitely a prank.

“.. are you alright?”

“yes! sorry, i’m.. yeah, i’m good. hi, yeah. i’m.. y/n.”

he smiled at you, “i’m harry. but.. you seem to already know that, since y’sang my song and all.”

“i.. yeah, i do know who you are,” you laugh awkwardly.

“well, i’m glad to know who you are as well.”

you had to bit your lip to keep from smiling like a psycho.

“oh, and uh.. happy christmas,” he smiled.

you furrowed your brows, grabbing your phone.

12:01, 25 december 2018

happy christmas, indeed.

a/n: edging 😛 LMAO this might get another part, it lowk just depends on how well it does!!

[just-another-author-i-guess]

Hey can I request something with judd birch I don't really have a prompt can you just make something fluffy and cute I need some soft love in my life lol

I literally had a dream about this last night, so here you go lol sorry it’s not like super soft, it’s just school hc’s

Tags: gn! Reader, kinda?, leaning towards fem, mentions of s e x 🫣, and alcohol, Judd’s driving, school should be an actual warning tbh

Summary: the one day a month when Judd show’s up to school.

Author’s note: I skipped my math class to write this,, 🤷🏻‍♀️ yk you gotta think like your characters when you write about them lmfao

Surviving a day in school with Judd

Word count; 1,1K

so, let’s say your boyfriend has one of those rare days where he decides to actually show up to school

He’s so, so tired in the morning

I’m talking slow blinking, yawning and constantly leaning his forehead on stuff to try and catch a quick nap in class or while standing up

He’s also constantly complaining, acts like it’s your fault he has to be there

He will be following you around the entire time too

No one will talk to you willingly the whole day because Judd is just always standing broodingly behind you

You’re getting something from your locker? Judd is standing there, scowling and leaning against the lockers besides yours so no one except you can get to their stuff

You’re talking to your friends? Judd will still just stand there a bit behind you, glaring at your friends or using his whole body weight to lean on you

Even if you’re talking to his friends, he’s not that talkative, he prefers just to let you lead the conversation

He does actually have those, friends I mean, like people he can hang out with if you’re not available, or people who host parties

You’re definitely getting initiated into his friend group as soon as you start dating, they’re all kinda like him anyways so you’d fit right in lol

But omg he’s so clingy at school

He just misses you between classes, yk? ),:

After the first classes, he’ll be more awake

You can’t tell if that’s good or bad tbh

It’s not like he actively goes out of his way to disturb classes or anything, but he’s definitely not an ideal student either

Like, he’s not one of those annoying kids who purposely talk really loudly or throw stuff or whatever

but he will sit with his feet up on his desk if he feels like it, doesn’t respond when he gets called on, will call the teacher a colourful variety of curse words and ends up getting kicked out and send to the office

Maybe just don’t call on him and he won’t insult you? 🤷🏻‍♀️

(He’s also literally the worst partner for assignments ever)

That’s in his own classes at least,, let’s say you share a PE class with him and it will very quickly turn into “hey let’s skip and go fuck in the bathroom”

The days were Judd shows up to school is definitely the days you get in trouble/ and/ or detention

Okay but that’s another thing, the other half of the day he will just show up outside of your classes

Either because he got kicked out of his or he has a break or something, he’ll just stand outside and wait for you to come out so he can drag you somewhere and yk,, get all the horny out of his system

Maury also straight up refuses to deal with Judd’s school, as soon as he enters he’s doing his best to convince Judd to find you and have sex or something instead

Omg,, the many, many, poor people you’ve traumatised in the school bathroom or parking lot

(He will also fuck you in his car in front of the school lmfao)

You usually eat lunch with Leah or your respective group of friends, but when Judd’s there you’ll eat with him

(You probably have to pay for his lunch🧍🏻)

Sometimes, though, he’ll drive you two out to get McDonald’s or something

Leah will sit with you at lunch too, so she can bully Judd for showing up or rant to him about something or whatever

Also if anyone’s bothering her, Judd is the best way for her to get out of talking to them

After lunch, you have a class with Leah so he’s once again left to his own devices

He reluctantly goes to his own class because he doesn’t have anything else to do lol

Unless it’s a teacher that’s really really nice, he gets kicked out again

The man literally spends the entire school day just roaming around because he keeps getting send to the office lmfao

He would probably try to get into the school’s vents as well? He’ll crawl over to where your class is and bother you by throwing paper or something through the vent

You’re just sitting in class, and suddenly a bunch of small paper scraps falls from the ceiling and lands in your hair

You look up, only to see your boyfriend grinning and gesturing with his head for you to leave the room

Leah sees it too and has to do her best not to burst out laughing 🫣

Surprisingly, he shows up to after school detention

Definitely not because you dragged him there and told him it was his fault for getting you roped into it as well—

You two sit in the back, and you try to do your homework while Judd naps

Sometimes you’ll share headphones or Judd will steal some of your notebook paper and draw on it

Judd is super distracting literally by just existing, he’s the loudest quiet person ever if that makes sense

When you’re finally out of school, Judd is by default expecting yet another rendezvous in the back of his van

It’s actually kinda fascinating how much the guy can go in just one day—

But anyways, he’ll drive you home or to his house or wherever you wanna go

Sometimes you come with him to pick up Nick from school

Okay so here’s one of Judd’s secrets

He can actually drive like a normal person 😮

I mean, sure he’s always a bit above the speed limit and a bit too close to hitting ppl walking close to the road, but he almost only drives like a race car driver when Nick’s in the car

Because he knows Nick hates it lol

You would have gotten used to it by now, because you know he isn’t actually gonna hit someone

But Nick doesn’t know that

Driving really, really fast is probably also a way for Judd to destress or wind down after a long, and boring, school day

He’ll pass the fuck out when he gets home from school

Well, he’ll knock back half a Jack daniels and raid the fridge and then pass out

You’re more than welcome to anything in the birches fridge yourself, so if you’re feeling particularly nice pls make him something sustainable

His idea of a proper meal is literally a bag of chips— I’m so stressed

Anyways, congrats. You made it through a whole school day with Judd lol

Don’t expect him to show up again tomorrow, though 🤷🏻‍♀️

I love doing Judd headcannons 🤭🤭

Tags: @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn