#not gonna bc it took me five years to grow it out again last time

[martianbugsbunny]

ah stab me it's Hugh Jackman gives me gender envy hours again

[mandareeboo]

SU Music Rankings

Bc I can and I wanna start some Disk Horse rip. These are all in order of preference, with explanations, etc. It’s a long bitch. That said, I’m not counting little short jingles or small joke songs like Little Butler. This is the meat and potatoes of SU music- just under 30 songs. I might do the rest if people like my takes lol.

I scored it mostly on three bases- how dear it was to my heart, how much/often I relisten to it, and also what it means to the plot. That said, little fun songs don’t automatically go farther down than big, plot-heavy songs either! It’s a strange little balance.

Special Note: I don’t dislike any of this music! I love SU and that includes its bumps and glitches. I just pick favorite children lol.

1.) Change

Was there ever a more Steven moment than when he wiped the blood off his face and kissed it into sparkles? I think not. 

If “Be Wherever You Are” is an ode to young Steven, then this is teen Steven’s. Talking about change, and how much and how little it can do. How he holds his arms up for Spinel to hug him, so trusting. How he seems able to just. Break into soft tears at will, and not to be manipulative- it’s just his kind nature. The warmth in his voice. Fuck yesssss.

2.) Change Your Mind

This song is only fifty five seconds and it’s EVERYTHING to me. It really felt like someone was speaking the words I’d always held deep inside of me, unsure of how to say. It feels like a goodbye to someone who never really loved me. 

As much as I enjoyed Future, if this was the finale of SU, I would’ve been perfectly okay with that.

3.) Drift Away

This song gave me legitimate shivers the first time I heard it, and it still haunts me to this day. Spinel stayed, and waited, and all she got was a transmission thousands of years later. Fuck.

4.) Here We Are In The Future

THE MOVIE IS SU AS ITS BEST AND I WON’T BE SWAYED ON IT. Steven being a teen who loves his weird family but is growing just a bit sarcastic to their drama. The adorable love he and Connie share. His slow realization that he will always be working, always have things to do, is both somber and real. The Crystal Gems won’t be safe with one epic battle. They’ll be safe with years of hard work and love. HIS LITTLE HANDSHAKE WITH AMETHYST.

This is a helluva bop and a great way to summarize the main character’s backstories.

5.) Let’s Only Think About Love

Did ya’ll know that Zach Callison killed his throat with that last note? He gave his all for this performance in a vocal range he no longer comfortably do and by god did it SHINE. The FLAIR. The FORESHADOWING. All of the Gems all being awkward about Rose and Steven trying to bring them to the present. Peridot having a mini-existential crisis in a cute yellow dress. I love Zach Callison’s normal singing voice but man is that a fucking bop. Nothing will ever beat it.

6.) Here Comes A Thought

This bad boy helped me out a LOT with some mental issues I was dealing with in high school. I was unmedicated, unsupervised, and full of anxiety. I’d have break downs when I tried to speak about certain things. I couldn’t function. This song inspired me. It helped me feel okay with my intrusive thoughts.

And the episode! -chef’s kiss-. Once again bringing up the morally gray area of training child soldiers. Connie expanding her social group. Steven’s trauma hauling ass in that second half. The ANIMATION. Stevonnie’s gorgeous singing voice. GOD yes.

7.) It’s Over Isn’t It?

Just barely squeaking above Stronger Than You, this ballad is everything gorgeous. The whole episode is. I think Mr. Greg stands in the top five of my episodes for the entire show. It even got nominated!

There’s just so much about this song that I love. The gentle melancholy of Pearl’s voice. How the crew had to redo the shots for this bit bc Deedee went so fucking hard. The hard cuts between Pearl, remembering the love of her life, and Steven, who has begun to feel like he took her away. I’d recommend this song to anyone, regardless of what they do or don’t know about SU, simply bc it tugs so many heartstrings of love, loss, and responsibility.

8.) Stronger Than You

Did you realize this episode aired SEVEN years ago? This bitch was what got me into SU! Hearing about Ruby and Sapphire made my little gay heart so happy inside, and then getting a whole song confirming that they were a couple, that their love powered the strongest Gem on the team? Aaaaaaaaa

To this DAY I get excited when I hear Estelle start singing. This song is timeless. This song will live in media history. God I fucking love this song.

9.) Other Friends

I’m not the biggest musical person, so I hadn’t heard of Sarah Stiles before her casting as Spinel, but JESUS CHRIST the lady went hard. She went SO fucking hard. Sarah Stiles started on 100 and somehow just kept CLIMBING. You can just hear the sheer manic energy building in her voice, the anger and resentment. 10/10 Sarah Stiles is a queen.

10.) Independent Together

This made the list entirely bc the crew was like “you’re gonna get a himbo ass Steven-Greg fusion singing with Opal while Garnet flies across the moon on Lion while floating” and I am forever thankful to them for it

11.) Who We Are

Bismuth deserved more songs. ‘Nuff said.

12.) Peace and Love (On the Planet Earth)

It Could’ve been Great is EASILY one of my favorite s2 episodes. I love the entire concept of this song. Of Steven making music to reflect how much Earth means to him and his family. Of him teaching Peridot some self-care. Also Peridot’s singing voice is really cute and squeaky. 

I know it’s silly, but I would’ve really enjoyed a flip around of this in Future! Like Peridot reminding Steven how much he loves music, that he needs to take time to relax for himself, maybe with a new verse or just a remix of the original song!

13.) Something Entirely New

I watched this episode as it aired, and I legitimately almost cried. I love Charlyne Yi’s voice so much ya’ll- her raspy, not perfect singing voice against Sapphire’s deep soothing lull is great.

And to have Ruby and Sapphire’s meeting be the way it was- for Ruby to bemoan Sapphire losing Homeworld, to being stuck with a single Ruby, while Sapphire is a noble who has always been taught everyone in her “caste” is vitally important (and has, in her own mind, taken that to mean every Gem, as she should) and how they come together and make each other happy. Good shit good shit.

14.) I’m Just a Comet

The fact that Greg’s music career never really blasted off pisses me off to this day bc Tom Scharpling’s voice is fucking BUTTER. Also the song really feels like a jab at his parents now that we know the kind of dynamic he had growing up. “This life in the stars if all I’ve ever known” is definitely him wiping away their existence after reminding them (and himself) the things they used to say about him.

15.) Do It For Her

This episode. This fucking episode. This episode got me permanently hooked on SU. I’d just binged season 1 and was kinda meh about it overall after the bop of Stronger Than You. “Oh,” I thought to myself, foolishly, “I’ll probably just casually watch this from time to time.”

Like three days later Sworn to the Sword aired and that was it. I was hooked! Pearl’s gentle training song turning darker and darker, Connie’s accompaniment from nervous to determined to fully into such a toxic mindset. The fact that SU had the BALLS to discuss the repercussions of training child soldiers, now and later. This episode was everything to me, STILL is everything to me.

Six years and well over 100 fanfics written later, I think it’s safe to say this show swallowed me whole and never let go.

16.) System/Boot.pearl_final(3)

I debated putting this on the list because it’s not anything crazy important, just a way to show things are Wrong, but I had to do it entirely bc Pearl is so damn SALTY.

Like telling us about the Gems makes sense, she felt like she was given a duty, but she went so damn petty. WHY is that Ruby alone. Gross. This Amethyst is a trash dump. Wtf are you people.

17.) Full Disclosure

This episode really feels like a turning point for SU. Before, the show had its dark moments- but now we’re in the thick of it, and it’s not going away. Full Disclosure felt like an rebuff to the idea of returning to any normal we’d established in season 1. Gems are actually a giant species now. Gems tried to kill us now. There’s this Yellow Diamond bitch who got namedropped. Something about a Cluster. 

The song itself is BALLER, with its ingenious use of Steven’s ringtone and photos as he tries to decide whether to clue in Connie on all this nonsense. Meanwhile we, the audience, already know damn well Connie about to yeet some common sense into him.

18.) What’s the Use of Feeling Blue?

I’mma admit it- I’m a Yellow Diamond stan. I’ve always loved her- her anger, her poise, her hardworking nature. I actively argued against the “Yellow Shattered Pink” theories back in the day. But, man, when this arc leaked? I got so overexcited I was too jittery to watch it for like two days. It’s easily my favorite arc of the series. The sheer alien nature of the zoo, the Famethyst, and absolutely Patti Lupone’s beautiful ballad. Goddamn. Yellow singing to Blue to try and help her regain her old status, the warble in her voice as she reminds Blue she misses Pink too, the movement of the bubbles as she talks about attack. It gives me shivers to this day. FUCK.

19.) Tower of Mistakes

This is, fun fact, that only SU song I have completely memorized. The story itself is kinda funny! See, we lost internet at my house for a solid 5 to 6 months when these episodes aired, so I only got a very brief window to view them all. But this was the first Amethyst song in a long while, and I didn’t want to forget it! So I keep replaying it in my head for ages. And that’s still definitely a thing.

Anyway will never not be sad that this entire song was about making it up to Garnet for Amethyst’s perceived slights with Sugilite (which was a two-way road), only for Garnet to pressure her into fusion later when pissed and never discuss it again bc Garnet probably never thought twice about it and Amethyst has the emotional openness of a clam that’s just been told its ugly. Helluva way to make someone feel like shit, G. Helluva way to bottle that shit, Ames.

20.) On the Run

I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: Amethyst! Needed! More! Songs! 

The dichotomy between Steven’s play and Amethyst’s honest desire to run away from home is so well-done, especially when you consider a lot of Steven and Amethyst’s actions are playing together. The song is also near and dear to me simply bc it’s my favorite Amethyst episode to exist (well, maybe second to What’s Your Problem, but not by much). Moments like these are all the proof I need that they were right to fuse first.

21.) Be Wherever You Are

This tune really just feels like an ode to who Steven was as a kid. Trapped on an island with no way home, and he’s just happy to be with his friends. The stars are beautiful and not oppressive. Also that one animatic with Lars and the Off Colors playing in the Homeworld Kindergarten to this music was iconic and made this song get stuck in my head for a solid month.

22.) Familiar

I ADORE how the crew use bright neon colors to show how alien Homeworld can be. And Steven recognizing that the Diamonds treat him how the CGs used to, and how prepared he is to “fix” a broken family. It’s a soft, gentle tune about melancholy. Also the Pebbles are beautiful.

23.) Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart

Such a cute little love ballad, but every time I listen to it now I just imagine the heart attack Rose must’ve had at the line “And if we look out of place/Well, baby, that's okay/I'll drive us into outer space.” like there’s a Vietnam war flashback if I ever heard one

24.) What Can I Do?

I’m kind of neutral on this one? Rose and Greg both have great voices, but the song itself lacks many lyrics. I think it was definitely a good way to show Rose’s flaws in thinking.

Also, I’m shocked they managed cram that much vaguely sexual innuendo into two minutes, followed by how Not Hetereo that dance between Rose and Pearl was, and not get their asses chewed by it. You go guys.

25.) Cookie Cat

I love a lot of the vibes this song has. The lyrics are so damn prophetic, but they also sound like the kind of weird 90s commercials I grew up on. It’s been like two decades since I saw the Shirley Temple commercial but I’ll be damned if I don’t remember “Animals crackers in my soup! Monkey and rabbits loop-de-loop.”

26.) Giant Woman

I am. NOT the biggest fan of Steven’s original singing voice. I feel bad saying that, since it was just Zach Callison as a kid, but he never jived well with me for some reason. So I wouldn’t listen to this on the fly. 

The song itself is still really good though, with all sorts of fun animation of Amethyst and Pearl being bitchy to each other. It’s a bit sad in hindsight to see tiny Steven trying to get his moms to get along. Ahh, season 1.

27.) Strong in the Real Way

This song has SUCH a strong start. Pearl reflecting on Sugilite’s problems, but the show making sure to show us that Pearl’s lack of enthusiasm towards her also lends itself to jealousy as well as just general malaise. How much she cares about Steven, and wants him to grow up strong. 

And then Steven just kinda. Ruins it? I appreciate his enthusiasm for tryna bulk up but to take what was starting as such a rich, personal song and broadcasting it to random strangers just makes me a bit sad. Almost a bit angry on her behalf?

28.) That Distant Shore

I KNOW this is gonna create some discourse, but I’m just not the biggest Lapis stan. I love her voice. I love the visuals of the song. And I get why she felt afraid and needed to flee.

But Lapis never got to take responsibility for her own actions. And, in the end, the song feels hollow to me- because we all know she’ll never talk to anyone about it, know she’ll burst back in and destroy the barn, and no one will ever question it. I like Lapis a lot, but I feel like her arc never was fully finished. She never got help. She never learned to feel safe.

29.) Dear Old Dad

I’ve yet to meet a single human being who likes this episode tbh. There’s some great discussion about what kind of parent Greg is from it, and what kind of dynamic he has with the Gems that he felt he had to fake an injury to hang out with his son. Honestly the first half was fine and dandy. It’s just that then they Greg just went out of his way to drag Steven away from missions and such. It never jived well with his character before or after.

Also, is it just me, or does Zach himself sound like he hates the song as he sings it? There’s no passion or heart in his voice. It sounds like they told him to read off cue cards and he did. Tom Scharpling’s best attempts didn’t save this one for being a skipper. But the episode, unfortunately, isn’t, so it gets a spot on here.

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

-------------------------------------

A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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[turntechgoddesshead]

Promise

Hey guys! Remember me? I was the rando that said i was gonna write Sally Face fanfic, wrote one headcanons post and yeeted off the internet for a couple days. Well, i’m back and I did indeed write a thing. This is the beginning of a series, if ya’ll like it that is. I don’t know if this will end up as Larry x Reader or Sal x Reader but hell, i guess we’ll see. Anyways, here ya go!

Also feel free to hit me up for Headcanons, they’re fun warm ups. 

Words: 1624

TW: Mention of animal death, Parents leaving, and Juvy.

Y/n Is a girl and uses she/her pronouns, has freckles and glasses. Sorry haha, i have a hard time not writing in those features bc this did indeed start off as a shameless self insert. Y/N also has two dads bc happy pride month. 

~~~~~~

A tiny cry echoed through the hallways of the labor ward, as a new life had blossomed just merely a few moments ago. Her fathers welcomed her into their lives with open arms and tears shedding from their eyes, as they drank in ever tiny inch of her brand-new body. She was absolutely perfect to them, and everything that they had worked so hard for. Her tiny hand gripped tightly onto the finger of the man who held her, her small green eyes cried tears of confusion as the second man beside her smiled and placed a gentle hand onto the top of her tiny head of H/C hair.

               “She’s so beautiful,” The first man spoke to the other, failing to contain his tears. The nurses watched in silent anticipation as the two finally introduced themselves to the newest member of their family. The woman who sat in the bed, smiled happily watching the two interact with the baby which she had carried inside her for nine months. She was finally meeting the family she forever deserved to be apart of, and the family which she had so graciously chosen to give her baby up to. After passing the baby girl off to the nurses, the two men embraced the woman into a teary hug, thanking her for all of her kindness.

               “Thank you so much, for our little Y/N Moore.”

               Days turned into weeks, which casually turned into months, leading to the sudden and unexpected change that occurs within the years of growing up. Five years into her young life, little Y/N and her fathers moved into their own little slice of heaven, room 402 of the Addison apartments in Nockfell.  They happily lived along with the other residents, making friends with the Johnson family which resided in the basement below. Larry Johnson was the only child of his parents, Lisa and Jim, who was just excited to have another child his age in the complex. The two children eventually became inseparable, always in one room or the other inevitably getting into whatever trouble children at the age of five or six get into. Y/N eventually grew into a worrisome little girl, always anxious over whether or not the duo would get away with their latest antics while Larry easily concocted them in that little brain of his. Three years Into the Moore’s and Johnsons friendship Young Y/N and Larry played outside excitedly with a handful of firecrackers which Mrs. Lisa had brought home. Y/N expressed to the young boy how anxious she was about playing with something which her fathers would inevitably be angry about, but eventually calmed down and began to play after her best friend convinced her it would be alright.

               “Larry, be sure to aim it away from the building!” She told him in between her high-pitched giggles. Snow outside fell from the sky and landed delicately into her hair, just to melt moments after.

               “I don’t think you can aim them He-" Before the boy could finish his sentence, the firecracker went off, flying towards the building and into an open window, before exploding into a flurry of pops and whistles. The sudden silence after the firecracker ceased lasted for only a moment as a sudden screech emitted from Mrs. Gibson, the old woman who resided within the apartment. All color drained from the freckled face of the little girl as she gazed up at the window in horror, listening to the screams of terror and anger that omitted from just a few floors above her.

               “L-Larry,” Larry had cut Y/N off before she could even form words. He gripped her wrist tightly, pulling her out of the sight of the window. Hurriedly he tugged her along to the side of the building so neither of them could be seen, glancing around the corner once for caution, before turning his attention to his friend. Y/N’s face had grown ghost-like as fat tears began to form in her eyes and roll down the center of her cheek.

               “Larry, did we hurt her?” She cried, putting her face into her hands. Her sobs turned into hiccups as she constantly attempted to wipe the water off her face. The pressure of her best friends hands gripping tightly onto her shoulders, suddenly pulled her out of her panicked state. She looked up at Larry who seemed as cool as possible, his eyes were sharp as he looked down at her with determination.

               “No Y/N, we didn’t,” He told her, nodding his head, “You were up in the treehouse by yourself, I asked you to play, and you were angry at me remember?”

               Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as she realized the weight of the situation, “No, Larry, I can’t leave you by yourself!”

               Larry shook his head.

               “Go sit in the treehouse, and count to a thousand. Once you do, climb down, and go straight home. When your dad asks you what you did, you say you played in the treehouse by yourself,” He ordered her, as though he hadn’t been coming up with this plan on the spot.

               “It’s not going to work!” Y/N continued to sob.

               “Yes, it is! Tell them you were mad because I nocked your glasses off with a snowball! But you didn’t play with me today, promise me you’ll do what I say!” Larry shook her shoulders slightly in desperation, before the girl eventually nodded to him.

               “Good,” Larry sighed, releasing the grip he had on her shoulders. He watched as his best friend turned on her heal and began to run towards the tree house.

               Y/N didn’t hear from Larry for two weeks after that. Her parents kept her at arm’s reach for what felt like an eternity, as she constantly wondered what her friend was up to. Every day she would ask permission to make her way down to the basement to see her friend, and every day she was denied. Weeks turned into months, as her parents protective grip seemed to loosen ever so slightly, reluctantly allowing her to wander the complex on her own after a plethora of begging on the young girls part.  She sauntered through the hallway, her eyes glued to the stained hardwood floor as she walked mindlessly, wondering about her friend who she knew was just five floors below. It wasn’t until the little girl had bumped mindlessly into another person that she was snatched from her anxiety inducing thoughts.

               “Oh, I’m sorry,” She spoke meekly, fixing the round glasses that sat delicately on her nose. Upon looking up, Y/N immediately recognized the woman with long brunette hair and much more empty than usual eyes.

               “Mrs. Lisa!” Y/N replied, her emotions suddenly too much for her small body to handle, “Is Larry here?”

               Lisa looked down at little Y/N almost painfully, her eyes bore dark circles under them, and she held the mop in her hand tightly, “Larry is down in the basement right now Y/N,” She replied calmly.

               Sheepishly, Y/N let out a small, “Oh,” and stared down at her feet as she rocked back and forth anxiously.

               Lisa smiled just a little bit at the little girl and pulled a small card out of the back of her pocket, “Tell you what though, why don’t you just go visit him now?”

               Excitedly, Y/N snatched the card from Lisa’s hand and hugged her with all her strength, excited at the opportunity to see her best friend once again, “Thank you Mrs. Lisa! You’re the best!”

               In a hurry she quickly ran towards the elevator and stuck the keycard in, which allowed her access to the basement. It took her only a moment to get to the apartment that was underground, but when she did, she eagerly ran to the door. Not even bothering to nock, the little girl opened the door and ran straight for the room where she knew Larry was. She opened the door to his room, noticing him laying on his bed with his hands behind his head and bulky headphones covering his ears as his foot tapped ever so lightly.

               “Larry!” She cried excitedly, jumping on top of the poor unexpecting boy, “I’ve missed you so much!”

               Larry scrambled to take his headphones off and toss his Walkman to the side, “Y/N?! Where have you been?”

               “Where have you been?!” She replied to his question, crushing him in the largest hug all while attempting to hold back her cries.

               Larry grew silent, looking down at his hands before looking at Y/N in embarrassment, “The firecracker killed Mrs. Gibsons pet rabbit.”

               Y/N let out a gasp and covered her mouth.

               “And they sent me to Juvie for a couple weeks.”

               “No!” Y/N cried, grabbing his hand in instinct.

               “Y/N I-“ Larry paused, looking at her before sighing, “I think it drove my dad away.”

               Y/N cocked her head in confusion and tightened the grip on Larry’s hand, “What do you mean?”

               “My dad left a couple days after they sent me away,” He confessed, his face burning red in shame. He looked away from his friend and steadied his breathing, as though trying to contain his own emotions, “I thought I drove you away too.”

               Y/N’s heart jumped to her throat as she defensively rose to her feet, “Larry, you couldn’t ever drive me away! Daddy and Papa have been acting so weird and protective, and now I guess I know why… but it wasn’t my choice I promise.”

               Tears fell down her face, but she quickly wiped them from her face and continued to talk, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, but from now on, we do everything together!”

               Larry smiled at her, pulling her into a hug.

               “You promise?”

               “Pinky.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for Friends to Lovers with Rodrick Heffley

Rodrick Heffley x reader

warnings: mentions of a bad home life

a/n: YALL I FUVKING DID IT AND IM TERRIFIED OF THE REPERCUSSIONS

prompt: y/n and rodrick have been friends for a long time, so long boundaries seem to be blurred

you’ve actually known rodrick since elementary school

it all started when he asked you to join his band

“i can play drums, you can play the tambourine because that’s the only other instrument i have! it’ll be wicked!”

your band lasted a week and only had one gig, it was for rodrick’s parents

who LOVED you by the way

they somehow permitted you to sleepover almost every other day, you practically lived at their house

FOR YEARS you did this

terrorizing lil greg

“what’s he gonna do, pee his diaper?”

“rodrick!!!”

always trick or treating together, exchanging candy when you got back go his house (or occasionally yours)

you guys didnt like hanging at your house, your parents were kind of....a lot to handle

starting middle school together, wreaking havoc on all the teachers

rodrick did it to impress you, according to mr. and mrs. heffley

but he’d give you a stupid little smirk from across the classroom after he got scolded so you believed them

whenever anyone gave you shit at school, rodrick wouldn’t hesitate to step in and show them who’s boss

“rodrick, you’re gonna get detention again!”

“yeah, well, i’m not gonna let them be mean to you”

you went to his house after school most days, sometimes you’d get there first while he was in detention

mrs. heffley had after school snacks

“y/n, why don’t you play some video games with greg while you wait for rodrick to get home?”

playing wii sports with greg, who cried when you won

you also had time to do homework while you waited, rodrick usually copied afterwards

when rodrick came home, he’d drag you to the garage to show you his drum skills

he hit himself in the head with his drumstick

“ooh, that’s gonna leave a mark”

next step was high school, which was a weird step up

but you guys had each other

you still spent most nights at the heffley residence, but you had to sleep on the couch instead of on the floor in the attic (aka rodricks lair)

“you two are growing up, so we think it’s best that you don’t sleep in the same room together, right?”

rodrick emptied one of his drawers for you to put your clothes in

but you still end up stealing his clothes half the time

“i wish i could be mad, but you wear all of my clothes better than me”

subconsciously doing couple-y things without realizing it

like rodrick would pull you closer to him when you two were together, put his arm around you, give you his jacket, etc

“are you guys serious? you’ve got to be dating!” -everyone

“rodrick, when are you and y/n going to get together?” -mr. and mrs. heffley

the answer was always the same: “we’re just friendssssss”

watching his band practice and cheering him on no matter what

you’re his guest vocals ☺️

when he got the van, it was a whole new world for you guys

you could go out wherever whenever

(with parent approval usually)

“wanna go ride around for a little while? hit a gas station and get a bunch of candy?”

“do you even have to ask?”

watching scary movies in his room

“platonic” cuddling in his bed

stuffing your face in the crook of his neck during scary scenes

“come on, y/n! it’s not that bad!”

him having to hold onto you for comfort so you’d keep watching with him

sometimes falling asleep together and his mom or dad coming to check on you later

“alright, time for bed! y/n, you get your usual couch...”

laughing your ass off at rodrick when he messes with greg

manny loves you, sometimes rodrick is jealous of the attention you give to his baby brother instead of him

rodrick scooping you up in his arms when you least expect it, never fails to make you scream

“hey there, hot stuff”

“you’re impossible!”

roller skating together, he held your hand the whole time bc he was worried you’d fall

his friends ENDLESSLY taunt him over your relationship

when he makes plans with others, he always says “let me ask y/n first” which just SENDS his friends oh my god

“dude, that’s your s/o!”

“no, they’re not! shut up!”

hating being apart a lot its so stressful

sometimes you’d have a pretty hard time at home and show up to his house at odd hours, but you were always welcome

you have your own key

“hey, what’s wrong?”

“my parents...they’re just the worst”

rodrick knows its bad when you start crying

he took you up to his room and played some music (quietly as not to wake the house)

you laid on top of him while he rubbed your back and told you that he was there for you

dozing off on him, as per usual

dude, the amount of pictures you have? astronomical

you playing his drums, the two of you going 🤘, an actual nice picture of you guys, him carrying you on his back, kiddos on your first day of school by year, you kissing his cheek “platonically”

comforting him when he was having his own hard times, whether it be an argument with his parents/greg, difficulties with musical inspiration, or anything else

“come here, you need a hug”

“i need several”

“you’ll get ‘em”

talent show! talent show! talent show!

you completely cussed out the rest of his band before they went on bc they had the audacity to replace him

but greg managed to save the day

“greg, my dude, give me a high five, that was awesome”

he wasn’t actually half bad but like, his mom kinda stole the show

more joyrides in the van

absolutely BLASTING the music in there while you and rodrick sat on the floor in the back and ate the taco bell you’d just picked up

“dude, you gotta try my potato griller, it’s a godsend”

“okay, but try this slushie, its so good. i mean, not as good as a 7-eleven slushie, but it’s up there”

finishing your food and laying in the van for another hour bc you just loved each other’s company

but after sitting together alone for so long, you felt like there was something left to do, what was it?

you and rodrick were moving around a bunch and ended up next to each other sitting against the wall of the van

you looked over at each other and hesitated before leaning in to kiss

and you guys kissed for a while

okay, so, you made out on the floor of his van with led zeppelin playing in the background

✨magical✨

it wasn’t awkward or anything, just long overdue

okay it was a little awkward actually

“well, that was” *clears throat* “that was cool or whatever”

“yeah...wanna do it again?”

“oh, for sure”

not like it was a surprise to anyone when you announced you were FINALLY dating

“wait, you guys just started dating? i thought you’d been together for like, at least 5 years” -mr. heffley

“this is great! obviously, we’ll need to set up some boundaries so that everyone is comfortable and safe, but yay for young love!” -mrs. heffley

“gross” -greg

mrs. heffley wrote a column in the newspaper about you titled “my teenage son’s fantastic significant other”

not much changed after you and rodrick got together, just kissing, “i love you’s” and more teasing from friends and school faculty

“we were all rooting for you two, actually!” -the teachers

summer vacation with him

it was always SWEET

going to the pool together, he’d usually lay out on the chairs with you but you were able to drag him into the pool a few times

“come onnnn, it’ll be funnnn”

“you’re lucky you’re cute”

hugs from behind!!! kisses on the top of ur head!!!!

PROM AH HAH HAH

seeing rodrick in a tux was too funny for you, you almost couldn’t stop laughing (especially at the eyeliner he insisted on wearing)

but he just couldn’t stop staring at you

“rodrick!”

“what?! you’re stunning!”

honestly, prom wasn’t all it was cracked up to be

you danced like maniacs for a few songs and ended up ditching early on

but you did end up renting a bunch of movies and getting tonssss of snacks and changing into pajamas as soon as you got to his house

im talking popcorn, candy bars, ice cream, cans of pop, chips, chicken nuggets and so on

and also passing out on each other

“i think i love you a little more, i didn’t know that was possible”

“i have that effect on people”

he makes u breakfast before his mom gets the chance though

“pancakes? for me?”

“i put chocolate chips in them too, you’re gonna love them”

(they were a lil bit burned, still good tho)

you guys really did just spot on get each other

okay but i know you also roast each other sometimes so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

relationship goals, honestly

fresh outta ideas 🤠 goodnight

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Curiosity Killed The Cat | Owen Patrick Joyner

Requested: Yes/No

Hi! I was wondering if you can do an Owen imagine kinda based off his Instagram story of him finding a cat. I was thinking he’d actually find the missing cat though and come ring your doorbell at 4am bc he’s chaotic. You can decide everything. Thank you in advance!!!

A/N: The cat doesn’t actually die in this, it’s just a saying that i liked for the title, so don’t worry! It’s got a happy ending!

Pairing: Owen x Fem!Reader

Song(s) used: none 

Warnings: none

Words: 3,949

A week. It had been exactly one week since y/n last saw her cat, Tunabean. The white, grey striped Ragamuffin cat had been absent from y/n’s apartment for way longer than she normally would be and it worried y/n to the point where she’d be out looking for the little rascal every night after work. 

“Found her yet?” Jamila asked as she entered y/n’s apartment after coming home from work. 

Jamila was y/n’s roommate and best friend since college. The two had lived together through their college career and decided to be roommates after too, as long as neither had significant others to go live with. 

“No,” y/n’s lip stuck out into a pout as she feverishly reposted the message on all her social media platforms. “People have been tearing down my posters as well. Did you see the ones near Andrews Park? They were torn to shreds!” 

Jamila pulled her lips into a tight smile before putting her bags on the dining room table and joining y/n on the couch. “Yeah, I saw. I’m really sorry, y/n. If you want, we can go and put up some more posters? Exchange the torn up ones with some fresh ones?”

“You’d do that for me?” 

“Of course! Sweetie, I’d do anything to get little Bean home, you know that, right?” y/n nodded her head in response, though she wasn’t sure if she knew that. 

Jamila wasn’t the biggest fan of Tunabean at first. She hated cats. Growing up, she’d always had a dog but never a cat. She didn’t trust the little rascals for one second. So, when y/n showed up with little Tunabean after having had what felt like the worst week of her life, Jamila was a tiny bit angry. But eventually warmed up to Tunabean when the little kitty seemed so placid, you could easily cuddle up to it on the sofa. 

“Let’s go find Zach at his work, bribe him to print me more posters for cheap, hang ‘em up around town and then maybe Tino’s?” Jamila’s eyes lit up at the mention of her favorite restaurant. 

She snapped her fingers and pointed finger guns at her best friend. “Sounds like a plan!” she said and wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. It was a cold November day and no person could leave their house consciously without being bundled up into layers and layers of clothing.  

“I hope Bean didn’t hide under a car and the owner didn’t tap the hood before getting in…” y/n muttered, her voice thick with worry, as they exited the apartment building and stepped into the blistering cold. 

“I’m sure she just found a few boyfriends and is spending her time with them,” Jamila tried to reassure her, but knew all-too-well that Tunabean wouldn’t stay away this long, even if she had a lover cat to make little kittens with. She loved Jamila and y/n’s home too much. 

“Are you slut shaming my cat right now?” 

“Our cat,” Jamila corrected, causing a smile to find its way to y/n’s face, “And no, I am not. I’m just trying to be optimistic here, y/n.” Jamila tucked her cold hands into the pockets of her tan peacoat. “I’m sure Tunabean is alright.” 

“What if she isn’t though? What if she’s like meowing somewhere in the middle of Norman and no one to hear her pleas?” Jamila rolled her eyes at how dramatic her best friend was being.  

“Norman ain’t that big, sweetie. I’m sure if she’s meowing somewhere, we would’ve heard her already.” 

“Exactly! Which means she’s either dead or god knows anywhere! She could be in Oklahoma City! We don’t know that!” y/n exclaimed loudly, using excessive hand gestures more so to keep herself warm than emphasis. 

Jamila stopped in her tracks and grabbed y/n by the shoulders, stopping her too. “Stop being such a drama queen, y/n! I’m sure Tunabean is fine. Maybe she’s on an adventure or making new friends, you don’t know that!” 

“You don’t care about our child, admit it,” y/n muttered. This rendered Jamila silent. “Admit you don’t care about our child, Jam!” Passer-byers shot them a weirded out glare, which Jamila sent right back. 

“Oh, please! Don’t pretend there are no lesbian families in Norman too!” she yelled at them. The comical side of the whole situation made y/n laugh a tiny bit. “There’s that smile I like to see.” Jamila softly touched y/n’s chin with her knuckle before grabbing the girl’s hand in hers. The warmth of Jamila’s hand radiating through to y/n’s made her feel all toasty. “Let’s go print some posters!”  

The girls reached a one-storey building with red decrepit letters stuck to the roof. 

HOOPER PRINTING CO. 

As y/n opened the glass door and held it for Jamila to walk in, the smell of ink reached her nostrils. Though not a very traditional scent to love, it reminded y/n of one of her best friends. It was like  her brain just knew that the muscles in her cheeks would soon start to hurt thanks to Zachary. A boy the girls had met in college as Xana. 

Jamila spotted the bleached blonde mop of hair immediately and signaled to y/n to sneak up to him. On their tippy toes, the two approached the tall slender man, and when they were close enough, they took in a deep breath and-- “Don’t even think about it,” Zach mumbled without even looking at them. 

Jamila and y/n glanced at each other, cheeks puffed out from the breath they were holding. “How’d you--?” y/n didn’t even finish her sentence as she looked past Zach and her eyes landed on a tiny tv screen. Cameras, of course. 

“Since when do you have security cameras?” y/n asked as she hopped onto the counter Zach was sorting invoices on. 

He shrugged, “Sometime this week, I think.” His bright blue eyes met y/n’s as she sheepishly looked at him while kicking her legs. The boy sighed exasperated, knowing all too well what the girls are here for. “No. Not again.” 

“Please, Zachy! Tunabean is still missing and her posters have been ripped down!” Her eyes teared up at the thought of her kitty being out there all by herself in Norman. All she could hope was that the creepy dudes from Doyle’s didn’t get their filthy paws on her little princess. 

“Come on, Zach. You love that cat too!” Jamila chimed in, crossing her arms across her chest and glaring at him knowingly. 

“Fine, come here,” he reached out his hand and y/n handed him the thumb drive on which she kept her self-made posters. “You’re gonna have to buy me Tino’s though.” 

“We were going there afterwards, if you wanna join?” y/n’s voice was teasing and sly. 

“I’m off at five,” he simply stated before pressing a few buttons on his desktop and waking up the printer closest to them. “How long has she been gone for?” he then asked after a few beats of silence. Y/N dropped her head and stared at her still moving legs for a moment. 

“About a week,” she replied. 

Zach pulled his lips into a tight smile. He reached his hand out and placed it gently on top of hers. “She’ll come back.” 

“How can you be so sure? She might be hurt somewhere or dead and I won’t even know. I won’t even be able to say goodbye to her.” Tears pooled in y/n’s eyes as she thought of the sweet little kitten she had found in a ‘take one for free’ box on a curb one day. She was the last one left. 

“I’m not sure, y/n. But I’d like to be optimistic. Besides, Tunabean is resilient and the most independent kitty I’ve ever known. She’ll survive. She’s probably out adventuring with some friends.” 

Though the words weren’t very reassuring and y/n knew she had every right to be worried, they did calm her down a little. Tunabean was resilient and extremely independent. She’ll find her way back home.    

*

“I’ll see you guys later, bye!” Owen waved at his friends as he stepped into the cold November night. It was 4 am and he was just returning home from a day spent with friends. He had fallen asleep during the movie, only waking up in the middle of the night, realizing his parents were probably worrying about him, seeing he’d told them he’d be home by midnight at the latest. 

He softly hummed along to the song that was playing in his head as he walked down West Main Street, his hands tucked deep into his pockets to try and keep them warm. He should’ve brought a thicker coat or a thicker jumper. 

“Ah, mister Joyner!” a familiar voice with a thick accent made him shake out of his train of thought about the cold. The friendly face of the robust Italian greeted him in the dim light of the restaurant behind him. 

“Still working, Tino?” Owen asked as he stopped in his tracks to talk to the man everyone in Norman, Oklahoma loved. 

“Already back at work, ragazzino!” he replied in his thick Italian accent. Owen always thought it was fake and just for show to lure clients, so that they knew he was a pure Italian man, sharing his love for the Italian cuisine in his restaurant. 

“At four in the morning?!” Owen exclaimed, stunned at the man’s determination for his job. 

“Deliveries don’t wait, signore.” His laugh boomed into the empty, dark streets of Norman. Owen couldn’t help but let out a laugh too while his eyes averted and landed on a poster in the window. A black-and-white picture of a small cat stared back at him.  

MISSING: TUNABEAN

Grey-and-white striped ragamuffin cat, listens to the name Tunabean. 

“She’s been missing for a week, the poor girl who owns her is worried sick,” Tino told Owen when he noticed what he was looking at. The blond twenty-year-old pressed his lips together. He only ever had a dog that had never run away, but he could imagine what it would be like to not know where your pet is. He would totally lose it if Bindi ever went missing. 

“I feel sorry for her,” Owen said, unsure of anything else to say. 

“Yeah, me too,” said Tino. “Keep an eye out for Tunabean, yeah?” 

“I will.” 

And with that, Owen continued his walk back home. The cat on the poster kept haunting his mind. Those big eyes were something he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. Thanks to said image plastered in his brain, he even started hearing meowing when he got to Andrews Park. It was a soft, fragile meow that had to echo through his brain for a few seconds before he realized it actually came from the bushes he was walking past as he passed through Andrews Park. 

Curiously, and kind of feverishly, Owen started to dig into the shrubbery until he found a tiny cat. “Oh, don’t worry, little one. I got you.” He said as he carefully detangled it from the branches. As he held it up to his face, he found the big, round eyes from the poster staring back at him in real life. “Tunabean?” he cooed, and the cat tilted its head ever so slightly. 

He stroked the cat’s head and scratched behind her ear before pulling it closer into his chest. She was shivering, but Owen wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the fear. If she’d been missing for a week, God knows how long she must’ve been stuck in there. 

“You hurt, little one?” he mumbled to it as he absentmindedly made his way to the one person he knew could help. 

“Owen,” Emmy groaned when she’d opened the door to find him standing on the curb with a pout on his face. “It’s four in the morning, I have to be up in an hour for work.” 

“That’s why I’m here,” he said and showed her the cat he had tucked in his jacket to keep it warm. “I found her in the bushes near Andrews Park. Can you check if she’s okay?” Emmy’s eyes darted from the cat to Owen and back. “Please, Emmy? You’re the only one I know could help her out.” 

“Come on in,” she sighed, clearly disgruntled at the early wakeup call. But she couldn’t say no to a little kitty in need. She’d been rescuing animals since she was a little girl, she wasn’t going to leave this one in the dust. 

Owen placed the cat on the table as it meowed and nudged Owen’s hand with her head. “It’s okay, Tunabean, Emmy here is gonna make sure you’re okay.” 

“Tunabean?” Emmy asked as she put on latex gloves. 

“Yeah, I think it’s the cat from the missing posters you see all around town?” 

Emmy gingerly took the cat in her gloved hands and started her check-up. “Ah, yes! My brother and his buddies took some of them down, thinking they were ‘rebellious’.” She rolled her eyes. “You gonna bring her back?” 

“Of course, Tino said the owner was worried sick about her.” 

Emmy smiled at this. Owen had always been the compassionate one in their friend group. He’d only act upon things if he was sure it wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Though, sometimes that compassion vanished when they were with their friends and he got a ‘brilliant’ idea, which was most likely kind of dangerous. 

“Oh, look,” Emmy whispered as she showed Tunabean’s paw. There was a thorn stuck in the little pad. “Poor thing! Hold her for a second, please? I’m gonna get my tweezers to get it out.” Owen placed a hand on the cat’s stomach, his fingers lightly scratching at the white fur. 

Emmy returned with everything she needed, and within a few seconds, Tunabean was freed from the thorn in her paw and back on her feet. She suddenly seemed a lot more peppy than she was before. 

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” Owen said as he scooped the kitten back up into his arms, holding it close to his chest. Emmy took her gloves off and scratched the cat’s head. 

“Goodbye, Tunabean,” she cooed, earning licks from her rough little tongue. “Ooh, I think I got the girl’s address here somewhere. Tunabean is Anna’s client and we’ve got them in the system.” 

As quickly as she’d said it, she’d handed the address over to Owen. After thanking her profusely, Owen went on his way with the cat tucked safely in his jacket for warmth. 

He was nervous as it was already five in the morning and the woman most definitely was still asleep. But he didn’t want to keep her in even more suspense and worry about her cat as she already was. 

“Hello?” a sleepy voice sounded through the intercom. 

“Hi, I’m Owen, I think I got your cat, Tunabean?” 

A silence fell, only Tunabean’s sleepy snoring disrupting the peace and quiet of the night. The poor girl had fallen asleep in Owen’s arms. He almost felt sad he had to give her away again. 

It took a good minute before the door to the apartment building opened up and a girl in red flannel pj’s opened the door. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun with big strands falling out of it. Though she’d probably rather not be seen like this out in public, Owen thought she looked breathtaking, even in the dim light from the hallway of her corridor and the street lights. 

“You really got Tunabean?” she asked as she held onto the door, squishing herself in the small opening she’d granted herself. Owen opened his jacket and carefully showed her the cat who’d woken up from her slumber. “Tunabean!” the girl exclaimed and grabbed the grey pet from the boy’s hands. Their fingers brushed ever so slightly, and though y/n was too busy with her cat, Owen felt it. He felt the spark. 

“I would invite you inside for a drink to thank you, but my roommate is still asleep and I don’t want to wake her.” Owen held up his hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he shook his head. 

“That’s okay. I don’t need a reward. I’m just glad I could reunite the two of you again,” he said, smiling at the girl and her cat. “Oh! She did have a thorn in her paw though, but my friend is a vet and I took her to her for a check-up before I came here.” 

“Aw, poor Bean,” she scratched the cat’s head before turning back to the blonde boy. “Thank you. That’s very considerate of you.” He tipped his head forward, the smile still persistent on his lips. 

“Glad I could help,” he repeated, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jacket again. “I’m gonna go though. I’m sure you’d rather go back to sleep right now than talk to a complete stranger on your doorstep.” 

“Oh, uhm, okay… Goodbye then? And thank you again for bringing Tunabean back.” 

Owen took a few steps backwards as he said, “You’re most welcome. Goodbye, Tunabean and…” 

“Y/N.” 

“Goodbye Tunabean and y/n.” His eyes lingered on hers for a few more seconds before he turned around to really make his way home now, no distractions. 

“Wait! I didn’t catch yours!” she whisper-shouted after him. 

He turned again, but kept walking. “Owen,” he said. 

“Goodbye, Owen.” She grabbed Tunabean’s paw and waved at him with it, causing a giggle to rake through Owen’s body. With his hand still in his pocket, he waved back. 

The more distance he created between them, the bigger his smile became as he thought of her. She was the epitome of a beautiful dream come to life. It made him wonder what she’d look like if she did put effort into her appearance. That could just be the death of him. 

*

After two more hours of sleep, the alarm blaring through her room woke y/n from a beautiful dream with the mysterious blonde boy that rang her doorbell very early in the morning. It caused her to wake up with the thought of him, wondering if she’d ever see him again. 

“Morning,” she greeted Jamila when she found her best friend in the living room, gathering all her stuff. “Guess who came home last night!” As if on cue, the little cat pattered across the hardwood floor towards the dark beauty that was Jamila. Her eyes widened as did her smile upon seeing the white-and-grey ragamuffin. 

“Bean!” Jamila shrieked as she knelt down to pick the four-legged friend off the floor. “Oh, baby! I missed you!” She peppered the cat with kisses, receiving the kisses back from her tiny pink tongue. “Where’d you find him?” 

“Oh, I didn’t. This guy, Owen, did. He brought her back at, like, five in the morning,” y/n explained as she absentmindedly smiled at the thought of those pretty blue-ish eyes. 

“And this Owen guy is pretty cute, isn’t he?” Jamila asked upon noticing her best friend’s flustered demeanor. “Did you ask for his number?” Y/N rolled her eyes before she started gathering her things she needed for work. 

“It was five in the morning, I had just woken up and I was too busy with Tunabean’s return to even think of that,” she explained, mostly cursing at herself for not asking his number. “Besides, I looked disgusting, I doubt he thought I was the epitome of beauty.” 

Jamila simply shook her head, debating against saying any more about it before pressing a kiss to y/n’s cheek and leaving the apartment. 

A silence fell over the space, leaving y/n alone with her thoughts. Her beautiful, yet annoying thoughts of the handsome boy at her front door. “He was handsome, wasn’t he, Tunabean?” she asked her cat, who simply tilted her head to the side as she sat in front of y/n on the floor. 

Once y/n had gathered her stuff for work today, she said goodbye to Tunabean and left the apartment. She was fumbling around in her handbag to look for her car keys when a vaguely familiar voice made her look up. 

The gorgeous blue eyes she’d been dreaming of for two whole hours were staring down at her whilst the plump pink lips curled up into a dreamy smile. “Oh, hey, Owen.” 

“I wanted to come and check up on Tunabean,” he carefully said, pointing up at the building she’d just come out of. “You know, see if she’s okay and stuff.” He suddenly seemed nervous. More nervous than he did at five in the morning. 

“Uhm, she’s okay, actually. Slept well and seemed very chipper this morning,” y/n reassured him, a smile playing at her lips as her eyes scanned his face. She made sure to make a mental note of every single detail of his face. Like how he stuck his tongue between his teeth as he smiled or how his eyes squinted slightly or the stubble faintly growing on his chin. 

“Oh, okay, good. That’s--that’s all, then…” He awkwardly coughed. 

Y/N awaited anything else, her eyes darting left and right as they just fumblingly stood on the curb in front of y/n’s apartment. “I-uhm… I have to get to work though, so…” She pointed somewhere behind Owen, indicating she needed to pass him and get going. 

“Right!” he said and took a step aside to let her through. She offered him a little wave and a soft ‘bye’ as she passed him. He watched her walk away, cursing at himself for not asking what he really wanted to ask. “Wait!” he yelled, making her stop in her tracks and turn around again with an expectant look on her face. “That’s-that’s not what I wanted to ask. I mean it was, but it wasn’t the only thing I wanted to ask.” He scratched the back of his neck as y/n’s eyes searched for an answer on his face. 

Y/N looked at him with a piercing glint in her eyes, urging him to continue. 

“Oh, right! Uhm… Would you -- would you maybe wanna go have a drink with me later today? Or something?” Her smile grew wider as she slowly nodded her head in response. 

“I’m off at five. Meet me at Gray Owl then,” she told him before turning to walk away. 

Owen was left on her curb, wondering if he had died. He thought she looked pretty when she’d just rolled out of bed, but now that she was all dolled up for work, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. And that smile. That smile was killer. 

She was more than the epitome of a dream come to life. She was beauty and grace. She was a poem and the poet. She was the lyrics and the melody. She was the question and the answer. 

Owen grew more and more curious about that girl the more he thought of her. He wanted to know what she liked and what she absolutely hated. He wanted to know how she laughed and how she cried, if she sang whenever her mind wandered. He wanted to know how she liked her eggs in the morning. 

Even though he knew curiosity killed the cat, he knew for a fact the cat in this story was just the beginning of something beautiful. 

 *

*

*

JATP taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon​ @caitsymichelle13​ @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti

Owen taglist: @alexpjoyner

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist! 

[superbabetotherescue]

Thanks, Brucie-Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 1840

Summary: You reminisce on your childhood with your best friend

Warnings: some violence, none really described in detail except reader getting punched in the face (as an alternative to getting teeth pulled), do teeth need their own warning bc they might, probably swearing but idk, kinda sad but don’t worry it’s fluffy, Bruce is a lil bitch but isn’t that kinda par for the course?

A/N: Once again this is just an old oneshot I have that I like a weird amount for no reason. You can read it as platonic or romantic it’s up to you idk but I’m lowkey thinking of making it into a series as platonic best friends so idk. I mean you’re reading it if you want it to be romantic that’s fine lmao I don’t care

Growing up one of Gotham’s elite may be a charmed life, but that didn’t mean that it was without its faults. You had spent your time being ignored by your parents, and your best friend, Bruce Wayne, became an orphan during a back alley robbery when the two of you were kids.

Or at least, former best friend.

In truth, you hadn’t seen Bruce in a while.

Well, you saw him constantly on the news and in the papers and just existing in Gotham in general, but you never got to see him face to face anymore.

Not for lack of trying, either. You sat down one night, the fifth time that Bruce had blown you off to meet for dinner in the past month, and pulled out your old photo album.

There was your fifth birthday party, a year or two after you had met Bruce in mega rich kid preschool, and there the two of you were, sharing a chair and staring at your huge birthday cake.

And the next picture, your favorite, the two of you covered in said birthday cake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Brucie,” You had cried,  whispering to him frantically, “Brucie, I got frosting on my dress!”

You were wearing a frilly pink dress that your mother had forced upon you, and in a moment of excitement you had leaned forward a little too far, and now the pale buttercream frosting covered your bodice.

“Uh oh,” Bruce breathed out slowly, adjusting his tie, pink to match your dress, and looking down at his own tiny three piece suit.

You were panicking, breathing heavily, “My mom is gonna be so mad!”

With a quick tug to your pigtails, Bruce shook his head, “I got this, Y/N.”

He reached forward and scooped a large chunk of the cake out, turning to you and smashing it against your chest quickly.

“Ah!” You jumped backwards, “Bruce!”

“Come on, hit me back,” Bruce hissed, grabbing another handful of cake and smushing it into your face.

As his plan dawned on you, you nodded, getting your own chunk of cake and throwing it at him, laughing delightedly as it landed in his hair.

“Bruce!” Mrs. Wayne scolded, running forward and crouching next to her son, who was currently trying to wrestle you, “You’re such a mess. Ms. Y/L/N, I’m so sorry for my son’s behavior!”

Your mother merely shook her head, smiling pleasantly, “Oh please, don’t worry about it, Martha. Those two are always getting into trouble.”

Victory!

You leaned over to your best friend with a wide grin, wrapping him in a tight hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flipping a few pages, you chuckled at what you saw.

Your face and Bruce’s fist matching in bloodiness, and a huge gap where your teeth were missing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were twelve years old, and you had five loose teeth. Your last five baby teeth. All in a row next to each other.

And, like most twelve year olds, you had a healthy fear of the dentist.

“They want me to go to the dentist tomorrow to get the teeth pulled!” You complained to Bruce, the two of you laying in his living room under the guise of studying.

He shrugged, “You just have to get them out before the dentist, right? Just keep wiggling.”

“I’ve been wiggling!” You sat up, shaking your head, “It’s not working. I need a new approach.  Maybe Alfred can make something sticky for me to eat and the teeth will get stuck in it. Like that toffee your-”

You froze, not looking at Bruce anymore.

His hand touched yours gently, and you turned to see a small, sad smile on his face, “Like the toffee my father used to make at Christmas? That would be good. But Alfred’s working on something, I think.”

Nodding, you hmm’d quietly to yourself for a moment, “I just don’t know what to do. I can’t let the dentist pull my teeth. I just can’t do it, Brucie.”

“Don’t call me Brucie,” He scowled, but you knew he didn’t really care.

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, pushing your teeth back and forth with your tongue as the two of you thought.

“I have an idea,” Bruce stood, extending his hand out to you, “But it’s a little unorthodox.”

If he hadn’t been offering to help you, you would’ve rolled your eyes at the way he spoke.

You rose next to him, nodding, “Anything! Anything that keeps me out of the dentist’s chair.”

He took a breath, deep, slow, thoughtful. His hand reached out towards your face, thumb stroking your lips, palm cupping your jaw and cheek.

What was he doing?

And then he reared his fist back, and punched you in the face.

It hurt, that was for certain, but it was well concentrated in one place, and you coughed as you choked on the teeth, spitting them into your hand.

“There’s only four,” You frowned, counting them quickly.

“Sorry about that, Y/N,” He held his fist back out, and you saw the fifth tooth embedded in his knuckle, “You can have it back.”

With a chuckle you plucked the tooth out and pulled him into a hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfred had a field day with that one, you remembered, but it was still better than going to the dentist.

With a few more flicks of pages, you felt your heart catch in your throat.

Prom night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5:30.

Your date was supposed to come meet you at Wayne Manor at 5:30 so that you could go out with Bruce and his pretty blonde arm candy.

And now it was 6:45, and he still wasn’t there.

You’d been pacing the parlor of the Manor for two hours. Bruce and his date kept disappearing to make out in various rooms, and Alfred had stopped standing at the front door and had instead begun to busy himself in the kitchen.

And you were crying.

“Shit,” You hissed, wiping a tiny smear of eyeliner out from under your eye.

You weren’t going to cry over him. Especially not after you’d spent three hours on your makeup. You couldn’t do it.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just leave her,” You heard The Blonde complain to Bruce in the next room over, “She’s totally bringing down the mood.”

“Hey, back off,” Bruce sighed, “She’s my best friend. I’m not leaving her all alone on prom night. Maybe she can just come out with us.“

“I’m not spending my prom night with some loser who got stood up by her own date.”

You bit your lip, swallowing back a sob and then speaking loudly enough for them to know they were meant to hear you, “Hey, Bruce? I think I’m just gonna go, okay? Sorry for holding you guys up.”

“Wait,” Bruce opened the door to the closet he and his date were in, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, don’t go.”

The Blonde gasped indignantly, and you shook your head, “No, seriously Bruce, don’t worry about it. I’m just-”

“Don’t leave, Y/N,” He said again, and the solidness of his words, the complete authority in how he said it, was enough to freeze you, “I’m taking you to prom. You can’t leave me.”

What?

“What?” The Blonde shrieked, stomping her heel on the ground, “You’re not taking her, you’re taking me!”

Bruce gave her a rather pleasant smile, “Actually, I’m not. I think you’re a stone cold bitch and if I look at you for any longer than fifteen more seconds, I think I’ll vomit. Now get out of my house,” And with that, waving a dismissive hand at her, he turned to you and grinned, “Now, Miss Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor of being my date to prom?”

A burst of energy running through you, you sprang forward and wrapped him up in a hug, “Absolutely. Thanks, Brucie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing your photo album, you sighed.

It felt like just yesterday in so many ways, and yet a million years ago.

What had happened between you two? What had you done to drive him away? Maybe a walk would clear your head.

You grabbed your keys and left, walking the streets of Gotham and thinking of your younger days.

There was a playground where you and Bruce would sometimes sneak off to play, halfway between both of your houses. It was where you had taught him how to throw a punch when you were six, where he had taught you how to cartwheel when you were eight, and where you two had shared your first kiss when you were ten.

You laughed at that memory too, wishing you had a picture in your album of that day, when the two of you had decided to be each other’s first kiss just so you’d know what you were getting yourselves into.

You’d sat on top of the monkey bars, staring into each other’s eyes as you came to your solemn decision, and leaned forward to give each other the briefest of pecks on the lips. And then you’d both fallen off the monkey bars, wiping your mouths and gagging dramatically.

Standing by those monkey bars, you ran your hands down the side with a smile.

And then you felt the cold barrel of a gun press into the back of your neck.

“Give me all your money, and get on your knees,” A dark voice growled.

Crap.

How could you let yourself be taken completely by surprise, in Gotham of all places?

Shaking, you tried to speak, your voice catching in your throat, “I… I don’t…”

“Hey!” A familiar voice sounded through the air, cutting you off, “Back off!”

You felt the  rounded metal leave your skin and let out a sigh of relief.

Spinning on your heel, you watched as your attacker, a large man with a ski mask pulled over his face, so cliche, got the crap beaten out of him by…

“Batman?” You gasped.

Of course!

Batman wrapped an arm around you, scoffing at the thug on the ground, and shot a grappling hook into the air.

As you felt yourself fly your head spun, trying to wrap your mind around everything.

So this was why he kept standing you up. Why he always came up with some flimsy excuse. He couldn’t just tell you he was the Batman, and besides, the mystery of it all was surely an ego thing for him.

You landed outside your house a moment later, the dark suit encompassing Batman just intimidating enough for you to almost take a step back as he rumbled, “You should be more careful. Especially at night.”

But you couldn’t take his warning seriously.

Your best friend wasn’t avoiding you, he didn’t hate you, he just had a secret!

You were too ecstatic to pay his advice any mind.

And so you simply wrapped him in a hug, your arms erupting into goosebumps against the cold armor that he wore, “Thanks, Brucie.”

[sunnetrolls]

1, 2, 6, 8, 12, and 22!

im doing urs first. just for fun

my god holy moly this got so long readmore time

1. Show your most recent wip

pspspspps [waves the prospect of ship art in front of you] if you do artfight i'll draw concordia ex machina next

2. 5 favourites of your own work?

FIVE? i don't draw that much!!! hold on i'll go browse

In no particular order! Veylin's bust painting is my fav ive done of any of those, i'm still rlly proud of nohope and planhz's sprites, i reaaaaaally love how i did the color and overlays on that abby headshot, and the dogy is an artfight attack from last year that is everything i love about my older lineless art style!!!

6. Which artists inspire you right now?

Alright buckle up folks this is a longer one

So I'm gonna answer this in two parts basically. The first part is artists that inspired me to start drawing what I like, especially fantrolls-- so a lot of my friends really!! Wanting to be in this community is what made me start actually doing art as something I was passionate about!!!!! The second part is actually twitter artists that inspired me to actually renovate my art style, try new things, and actually grow as an artist in ways that I really just never did here before.

I know I'm gonna forget a lot of people but the ones that come to mind right away for people who had an Impact on me back in the day are !!U!! gabriel 8bit-mau5, newt indig0trolls, my friend max who's no longer in the community, my friend lumiet who doesn't even do fantrolls but is really cool, and god a lot of old blogs whos muns are just gone now..................... wistful sigh :(

BUUUUUT as for artists who made me want to actually grow again in my. Wait hold on

[sets out a sign that says CRINGE WARNING -- I LIKED DSMP IN LATE 2020-EARLY TO MID 2021]

Okay now that that's out of the way! Some of the artists who made me actually want to learn and change and GROW again are giraffeleggos, mielzy_png, and WolfyTheWitch on twt :3 Mielzy especially is an art streamer who has a huge focus on being introspective and taking criticism and wanting to grow and always be improving in a direction they want. Hella cool to see someone be like, never satisfied in a "i love art and drawing so i want to grow and do it as well as i can as a respect for the craft" type of way. I don't think any of these guys except for Wolfy are actually into dsmp anymore but when I got into their content they were all dsmp fanartists so.

Okay this is really long actually so I'll quit there. Wait no actually here's a list of a handful of folks whose art inspires me to keep learning nowadays (also mostly all my friends)-- nero ramgodd, roe roetrolls, dami ask-the-troll-boys, greg lordtonic, and an extra special shoutout to chase sasster for making me want to write again. I just wanna do the cool art stuff like my really awesome friends so bad yall

8. What do you like most about your own work?

Hrmmmmmmmmmmm okay this one is tough bc both I wanna say "nothing bc I have a lot of strengths" and "nothing bc there's always room for me to grow and improve so even my best strengths aren't as good as they could and will eventually be"

But like. I really like how I paint actually

12. Show your favourite drawing from this year

FROM THIS YEAR.... ok let's comb thru my art tag

Oh wait easy simple. The whole fuckin aliquid ex nihilo comic. That took me so goddamn long but it was a labor of love and I desperately want to do more 1-page song comics like that but unfortunately they take me like 2 weeks if I do full lineart and that shit sucks

There are a lot of things I want to redo on it that are also things I redid in the process of making this comic but as is the nature of being so used to drawing sprites I forget how to draw people in actual poses and also interacting with things. I still think overall just because also of how funky I got with the coloring, framing, the fact that this is the first comic ive ever planned and fully completed ever, etc. that this one's my fav thing I've drawn in 2022 thus far

22. When is your prime time to work on your art?

Nighttime and also whenever I'm medicated LMAO I can NEVER focus on drawing if I'm off my meds idk how I did it before

[passivenovember]

Another stupid Harringrove HC bc I'm full of them! Billy being the kind of obnoxious ass who will be pouring you a drink all 'tell me when to stop' and everytime Steve gets distracted or looks away he just keeps pouring until the drink is overflowing and spilling out of the cup and all over the table and he'll still keep going until Steve says 'Stop!', meaning, 'what the fuck, Billy!?' and 'WOAH' and 'knock it off!' are not accepted.

I'm so sorry this took so long!!

When you sent me this I was over the moon because this?? Is Billy's humor exactly. I thought for so long about the perfect universe to build for you, but instead put it in one of my WIPs.

This is a snippet from chapter seven of If Snow Loves the Trees and Fields. I hope you enjoy it.

--

"How many bottles of this shit do you keep on hand?"

"Cosmo says we should drink a glass of wine a night, so." Billy counts on his fingers. "Four? Seven? I dunno." He giggles. "Is there something in there you like?"

Steve hiccups, moving to cover his mouth with one hand but giggling when the hiccup beats him to it. He looks at Billy with wide, playful eyes. "How many bottles have we had, then, is anyone keeping count?"

His cheeks are so pink.

Billy's never even seen a shade of pink that vibrant, that lovely, and he feels like it could be a fluke because he works in a kindergarten classroom, for Christ sake. Some of his kids have the big pack of Crayola with everything from bubblegum to magenta wasted on cheap construction paper, but Steve.

He has them all beat, the way his tongue pokes out to put a glaze on his lips.

Pink pink pink.

Billy pours them each another glass, leaning heavily on the coffee table to keep from tipping over. "Where did the other bottles go?" He whispers.

Steve looks around wildly, shifting on his haunches to look under the coffee table. When he pops back up he nearly knocks the glass over and that sends them rolling down the hill. Clutching their sides in laughter.

"I love wine." Billy says, finishing his glass. "I love spilling stuff, too. Creating puddles to jump around in."

"I didn't mean to spill."

"You didn't, but you could." Billy slaps a thick, heavy hand on the hardwood below him. "Just dump the whole fuckin' bottle out, if you want to. These babies are indestructible."

Steve gasps, leaning all the way across the coffee table until Billy thinks maybe his head has filled with helium. "My friend just had a baby."

Billy wants to throw up. "Congratulations."

"Babies really are indestructible," Steve says with a voice full of glittering wonder. "The baby will crawl the fuck around sometimes, and I'm always worried his little arms will break when Robin swaddles him because it looks uncomfortable--"

"I like being swaddled." Billy says. Matter of fact.

But Steve isn't listening. He makes a bowl shape with his hands, like, "And his little noggin' just finished growing, like. Yesterday." He folds his arms, frowning. "I'm surprised Robin and her nanny haven't dropped him yet."

Billy leans back on his palms. "What about her husband, does he have a hand in all this?"

"She's raising the baby on her self."

"Like, on her tit? Breastfeeding?" Billy whispers, nearly dying when Steve's wine comes out through his nose.

They spend the next five minutes cleaning up peach scented snot with a paper towel, joining each other on the floor in front of the couch. Almost touching but not quite, as Billy gets the last of it, his fingers gentle on Steve's chin to hold him still.

Billy likes touching Steve.

Billy wants them to be like this forever, and for always. Drinking wine on his living room floor in damp, distant candle light. Steve's eyes have gone heavy lidded, like he's bare-knuckle boxing to stay awake. Billy runs his thumb over Steve's mouth, pretending to dab away the last bit of boogers.

Steve leans into the touch.

Billy keeps touching him. "Maybe you should lay down," He says. "Does your head hurt?"

"My nose burns. It feels like sizzling bacon." Steve wines, and.

It's adorable. Billy pulls Steve to his chest on impulse and Steve doesn't think twice about it, laying down with his head in Billy's lap once he manages to slide from collarbone to hip. His nose is red.

Pink and red, like valentines day.

Billy plays with Steve's hair, winding strands around his fingers and tugging until Steve bats at him, lazy and slow. "Don't pull my hair out of my head, Bill."

"I won't."

"I need it."

Billy grins. "For what?"

"For love. And Sex. And engagement photos, when he finally puts two and two together."

"When who puts two and three--"

"Two."

"Can we stop talking about math?" Billy whines, tugging on Steve's hair again. "Jesus, I feel like I've done more math today than I have in fucking years."

Steve giggles, high and light like a baby. "God help the youth of Hawkins."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're cute." Steve pouts, turning until his nose is buried in Billy's stomach. When he speaks again the words are all muffled. "I should help you find a wife."

And.

Billy doesn't even want to get into that. The impossibility of it all.

"Oh sure, maybe I'll date your friend with the baby," Billy teases, smirking when Steve bites him. "I'm not so good with babies but once the kid can shit in a toilet we'll be best pals."

Steve sits like the ground is on fire, getting right up in Billy's face. "You can't marry her." Steve says triumphantly.

Billy tucks the hair behind Steve's ears. "Why not?"

"Because she's a lesbian." Harrington pokes Billy's nose with his finger, and then with his own nose, like, "Ha-ha, you little cherub asshole, I foiled your plan!"

Steve giggles.

And rocks them back and forth.

And keeps staring at Billy with those eyes. All soft, so.

Billy moves away. "You getting sleepy?"

Steve cranes his neck to stare at the half empty bottle of Boone's on the floor next to them. He raises his eyebrows once, twice, three times, until Billy shakes his head.

"You need water, Harrington."

"I want wine."

"You're gonna hate yourself in the morning."

Steve gets on his haunches, finally pulling away from Billy to grab their empty glasses. He holds them over his head, like, "I'd never hate waking up here." And the glasses make little lady bug antenna's on Steve's head, so.

Who is Billy to argue.

He grabs the bottle and sets up shop, telling Steve to put the glasses on the coffee table so they won't spill.

Steve's lips form a pout. "You promised me a puddle to jump around in."

"I didn't--"

"You mentioned puddles to a drunk bisexual, Billy." Steve says, the picture of resolve. "What else is a gay to do? Forget about it? Move on?"

Billy shakes his head, putting the spout of the bottle over Steve's wine glass. "Tell me when to stop, pretty boy."

Steve nods with his whole body as the glass turns orange in the candle light.

Billy glances at Steve, watching him watch the bottle drain. "Um, Steve?"

"Yeah?" Steve says dreamily.

The glass starts to overflow.

Harrington jolts into action, like, "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting you some wine."

"It's spilling all over the place--"

"I thought you wanted a puddle, Steve."

"I was joking."

"Well you have to tell me when you stop." Billy says, almost bored. Like this is something he does everyday.

"Okay," Steve says, as if gathering his thoughts.

Billy keeps going.

Steve swats him, like, "I said okay, what the fuck--"

"Yeah, but you didn't say stop."

"Well fucking STOP, Billy." Steve laughs, loud and bright. "You're crazy, you know that? Like an apple falling from the tree or whatever it is they say?"

And that's not at all what they say, but.

Steve's fingers make little splashes in the puddle Billy creates for them, anyway, until the room seems to disappear.

[shaynawrites23]

Be Careful, Soldier

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 1330

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

a/n: Tagging Emma @on-yourleft bc she encouraged me to write this, so if you enjoyed it, thank her!

also bucky comes back from the war bc i said so

The candles you were using for light flickered softly; the smallest one more than the others, as though it were fighting for its life. In vain, the tiny flame spun this way and that, but it was slowly dimming, and then it disappeared altogether.

You didn’t move immediately, a battle of your own taking place inside your mind as you attempted to convince your body to get up and light a new candle. Oh, how much easier it would be to work by the light of an electric lamp! You’d do it too, if your family could afford the electricity for that.

Heaving a deep sigh, you forced yourself out of your chair and stumbled over to the cupboard, legs stiff from sitting for so long. You yawned as you struck the match against the box, transferring the flame to a new white candle. Distracted, you nearly forgot to blow it out, doing so hastily when you felt the heat approaching your fingertips.

There. That would give you enough light to work for at least another two hours. What was more important than your beauty sleep? Well, that would be your work on Bucky’s new army uniforms. Your boyfriend had recently been drafted to serve in the war in Europe. His division, along with many others, was leaving tomorrow morning, and you were in the process of putting the ‘finishing touches’ on his jackets.

Two hours was apparently all you needed. It was pitch black outside when you folded, and placed the last uniform on the table beside you. The last candle flickered out, and no matter how hard you fought, you couldn’t keep your eyelids from drooping shut.

“(y/n)!” Someone shook you gently. “(y/n), wake up!”

You jolted upright, groaning when you felt how stiff your back was from sleeping in that chair. Your mother stood over you, urging you to get up and make yourself presentable as quickly as humanly possible. After all, you wanted to get to see your boyfriend off, didn’t you?

“Okay, I’m going, I’m going,” you grumbled, making your way to the stairs slowly as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. But then the doorbell rang, and you froze. Was it that late already?

Now you all but flew up the stairs. Never before had you put on a new dress that fast. Never before had you managed to do your hair and makeup in such a short time. Your mom would probably chastise you for not taking your time, but you could not care less. All you cared about was him.

As you descended the stairs again, you could hear him talking to your mother. She was telling him how proud she was of him, and he was in the middle of a reply when he caught sight of you and the words just died in his throat. A wide grin spread across his face as he ran over to you. His strong arms wrapped tightly around your frame and then he lifted you off of your feet, spinning you around in the air.

“Bucky!” you giggled.

“Jus’ happy to see ya, doll.” He set you down then, his thumb stroking your cheek. Your mother got the hint and shuffled into the kitchen to give you a few minutes of privacy. As soon as he heard the door close, Bucky leaned in to give you a sweet kiss. Gentle, loving, but altogether too short.

It suddenly hit you that this would be the last time he’d hold you like this, perhaps forever, and a tear rolled down your cheek.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry, doll!” His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, wiping away the tears. “I’ll be back before you know it. I’m a strong man,” he flexed jokingly, posing like a superhero, “I can handle any German!”

Despite the ache in your heart, you giggled, drying your eyes.

“I’ve gotta get going now, else my superior’s gonna have my head,” he chuckled. “I just came by to properly say goodbye to my girl.” His warm hand still cradled your face tenderly, as if letting go was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew he had no choice.

“Promise me you’ll come back safe?”

“I promise,” he breathed, “I promise. Doll, (y/n), I swear there is nothing in this world that can keep me from coming back to you. I just want to ask one more thing of you.”

“Anything, Bucky.”

“Will you wait for me?”

“Of course. I will wait for you. For five years, fifty years, or a hundred years. I’ll be here when you come back.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but the growing commotion out on the street urged him to get a move on. So instead he grinned, tucked his uniforms neatly under his arm and playfully saluted your dad, who returned the gesture, as he came downstairs. Then, as he was almost out the door, he bent down to sneak another kiss from your lips. He took off running after that, to join his division in time for the parade before they’d leave.

“Write me!” you called after him.

Slowing down, he spun around, walking backwards now. “Yes ma’am!” he called back, before another soldier practically dragged him along by his shirt collar. You laughed softly at the sight, going back inside to wait for your parents once he was out of sight.

You didn’t even want to go to the parade to see the soldiers off; the only reason you did was Bucky. You didn’t care about the others, the only one you wanted to see off was him.

From your spot in front of the crowd, you were in the perfect position to scan each row of soldiers for his face. A lady tried to shove you back but you didn’t budge; you had fought for your place here and you weren’t going to surrender it.

Then you saw him, marching proudly with his head held high. You didn’t miss how more than a few girls let their eyes follow his movements and try to figure out whom he was searching for in the crowd. The urge to shout “that’s my man!” was strong, but you managed to suppress it; your mother would kill you if you did something so unladylike.

His piercing blue eyes met yours then, and you wanted to pluck him out of the ranks and hide him away safely where no one could hurt him until the war’s end, so strong was your love for him. However, you settled for blowing him a kiss. He didn’t move, didn’t break the pattern of soldiers marching in their steady rhythm without moving anything but their legs, but the wide grin that spread across his face told you he saw it.

Your eyes followed him until you could no longer distinguish his uniform from all the identical ones on the soldiers around him; that was when you let yourself be pushed and jostled until you eventually found yourself at the edge of the crowd, and, seeing no reason to stay, you headed home, hoping and wishing to every deity you could name, to let Bucky return safely to your arms.

Bucky didn’t notice anything different until that evening, when he was preparing for his first night on board a ship. As he removed the jacket of his uniform, he caught a glimpse of green thread, green like the grass of the meadow you both went for walks in. He took a closer look, and then he drew in a sharp breath. For the stitches in his jacket formed words, words he could almost hear you say to him, despite the distance between you.

Be careful, soldier. Come back to me. I love you.

He closed his eyes, picturing your face, and then he vowed he would return to you. even if it meant fighting off the devil himself.

He did not break his vow.

[trulycevans]

mean

Warnings: swearing, alcohol and drug consumption mentioned

Summary: anon requested:

“what about ransom being mean to reader bc he loves her and one day he says sth that really hurts her so she gets sad and then he comes to apologize?pleaseee❤️”

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Growing up Ransom Drysdale had never really received affection. His parents were often too busy for him, and any nanny that he had was changed too quickly for him to form a proper bond with them. He had his Father’s wandering eye to thank for that. There was one exception however to this. [Y/N] [Y/L/N] had literally stumbled into his life when he was eighteen and a freshman in college. You had fallen into him at a busy campus event whilst struggling through a sea of other newcomers. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed, your hands planted firmly on his chest as he tried to steady you. The rest was history between the two of you. A friendship quickly blossomed. Although Ransom tried to fight it initially, thinking it would only hurt him, your kind smiles and affectionate touches softened his tough exterior. 

Even now, years after your friendship first began you were the only person who was able to cheer him up when he was sad or calm him down when he was angry. You were his person. And he would protect you with his life. 

So when you had burst into his home one rainy Sunday morning, grinning as you danced into his bedroom where he still lay hungover in his bed. “Hi Ransom!” You sang as you threw the curtains open. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He groaned, his head pounding, throwing his head back onto his pillow. 

“It’s 10am Ransom! I came to see my best friend on this beautiful Sunday morning!” You grinned, jumping on the bed next to him. “I thought we could go on a walk, enjoy the day!” You rolled onto your side to look at his pouting face. “I’m not going anywhere” He huffed. He cracked his one eye open to look at you, your bubbly energy annoying him this early in the morning, especially when he was hungover. 

“Come on, Ran. We’ve had this Sunday planned for a month now.” You whined, moving your hand to brush his flat hair away from his forehead, to which he swatted your hand away. 

“I’m warning you, [Y/N]!” He snapped, venom dripping from every word that fell from his lips. “I’m not in the mood, can’t we do this next weekend?” He twisted to face the other side of the room and away from you. 

While it wasn’t unusual for Ransom to snap at you, his temper was something you had had to adjust to over your friendship. However, you could usually laugh it off, tease him for being so uptight. You were the only person that could ease Ransom’s tension, all it took was your hand to be placed on his chest and a giggle for his shoulders to relax and a small smile to crack on his face. 

“Ransom, I’m getting sick of your attitude!” You shot up out of the bed, leaning down to grab your coat and bag that you had dropped on his bedroom floor. “You know how busy I’ve been with work, I was really looking forward to this weekend! All you needed to do was not go out last night so you would be okay for today! How is that too much for you to handle!?” You seethed. “And yet, I’m the bad guy for coming to your house to do exactly what we’d planned!? Goodbye Ransom.” You slammed the bedroom door behind you in your wrath. One thing you had definitely adopted from Ransom’s mannerisms was how to storm out of a house well. And boy had you done so. 

Ransom groaned. How the fuck could he be so stupid to snap at you like that? In between the thumps of his headache he strung together memories of the previous night. The blonde he’d taken to the toilet of the dingy bar, the endless stream of booze and substances fuelling his evening. All of that came crashing down as he pictured your crushed expression. 

He knew he was hard work. He would never understand why you stuck around, how you managed to keep being the positive force in his life. And yet here you were, years later still picking up the pieces of his life. But, that was until five minutes ago. You’d never snapped like that at him, ever.

He sighed glancing over at his bedside table where a tall glass of water and two painkillers sat there. You must have put them there knowing what state he’d likely be in. He didn’t deserve you, that much he knew. But, god did he love you. He sat bolt upright. Ransom Drysdale loved you. Not in a way that a friend loved a friend, or a brother loved a sister. You were his person. 

He ripped the bedcovers off himself, tearing his way to the window. Your car had already gone, but he knew you’d have only gone back home. He ignored the waves of nausea washing over him as he threw on his blue jumper from the night before. He scurried through the house, finding his car keys thrown onto the coffee table.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Pulling up at your apartment an hour later, Ransom rushed out of the car grabbing his stuff that rested on the passenger seat of the Beamer. He charged up to the apartment block, cringing at how gloomy it was. He had always told you he could pay for a new apartment for you, but you always insisted on paying your own way. You had been able to afford an Ivy League university through scholarships and you weren’t about to stop that hard work to allow your best friend to pay for everything for you. While Ransom didn’t understand your drive and determination to work for your money, he respected it and didn’t pressure you to accept his offers. 

He pushed the apartment buzzer firmly, anxiously tapping his foot. “Hello?” Your voice echoed through the speaker. 

“[Y/N] it’s me. Can I please come up? I’m sorry” He breathed, he heard you sigh on the other end of the line and then heard the door unlock. He rushed up to your apartment taking the stairs two at a time. You were waiting for him at the door, a sad look on your face as he approached. 

“I’m sorry” He whispered.

“As you should be, Ransom. I’ve been having such a hard time at work recently and I just needed to spend some time with you today.”

“I know. I’m awful.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Can I come in?” He questioned. You silently moved out of his way to allow him into your apartment. Out of habit you walked straight to the kitchen and started making him a coffee, just how he liked it. There was an awkward silence, which Ransom finally broke by clearing his throat.

“I brought you something,” He placed a gift bag onto the countertop that you hadn’t noticed before. It was a simple silver bag, with a ribbon tying it closed. You placed his coffee down next to it. “Ransom, you can’t just expect to buy my forgiveness.”

“No, I know. Just open it please.” He gulped, watching her every movement with caution. You reached for the bag, pulling at the ribbon and peered inside. A small black box rested in some tissue paper. “What’s this?” You whispered, the box cracked open with a snap in your hand. You gasped at the ring inside, it was a simple silver band with tiny diamonds forming an infinity shape. 

You peered up at Ransom with wide eyes. “[Y/N]. I’ve realised today how much you mean to me. You’re not just my best friend you’re something much more than that. I’m not good with words you know that, so if you reject me I’m just gonna go and I’ll never bring this up again.” He stepped toward you, his hand reaching to take the box from your hand. 

“This ring is a promise... from me. I promise that I’ll walk with you every Sunday, that I’ll buy you a dog even though you know I hate them-” You giggled at this and he cracked a smile. “See, it’s just you that makes me feel like this... I love you, [Y/N]. And I want to be with you.” He took the ring out of the box, and held it in between his thumb and index finger. 

“Ransom-” You breathed, but all you could do was lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips. He slipped the ring onto one of your fingers. You broke away breathlessly. “If you ever speak to me like that again I swear-”

“Can’t promise anything, you know what I’m like,” He chuckled, slipping your intertwined hands into the pockets of his coat. “Oh and don’t expect me to suddenly become really romantic, this was definitely a one off.” You rolled your eyes at your now boyfriend, a large smile stretched on your face.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

taglist

@onetwo3000 @tvckerlance

[writing-wrxngs]

Winter Day

(I got the idea for something with wintery vibes very suddenly as I was walking to my math class the other night. It’s only mid November but we got our first little snowstorm cause I live right on Lake Ontario. It was shit to actually walk through bc I was underdressed and not about to take the elevator back up 8 floors and change. Still, I got super excited to see snow! I love winter, or at least the romanticized version of winter. Also this is hella long, enjoy!)

It was the Saturday after a snow day, which meant an extra free weekend for Techno, Wilbur and Tommy. For the older boys, it meant a break from all the work being loaded on their adolescent backs. Tommy was only in his first year of school so he was just excited for a long weekend away from boring teachers.

Phil let the boys sleep in even more than usual. It wasn’t often school closed on a Friday, they deserved a treat. They had spent most of the snow day messing about and had tired themselves out. Instead, he sipped his coffee in the kitchen and waited to see which boy would roll out of bed first. To his surprise, it was Wilbur.

“Mornin’” the boy mumbled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He walked over to one of the cabinets and pulled out a bowl. Setting it down on the table, he went to the pantry and grabbed a random box of cereal from the top shelf. The ease with which he was able to do that still surprised Phil. Wilbur was growing like a weed, and even at his age, was taller than his father already.

Phil watched this ritual silently. Tired teenagers were like wild animals, and agitated easily. Of the two older boys, Wilbur was the one with the worse sleeping habits. Neither of them slept well, as was expected of teenage boys, but Wilbur was definitely the stereotypical tired out insomniac. Phil had no clue what kept him up, and let him for the most part, as it seemed like any attempts to help the boy change his sleep schedule failed.

Once he was done making the cereal, Wilbur sat down to eat. He scowled as he took the first bite. He might not have paid attention to what cereal he got, but he still wanted a particular one. Whatever. He had already poured this bowl. It wasn’t bad, either, just not what he had hoped for. The disappointment already wavering, he continued on eating.

It wasn’t long after that Techno came down the stairs. “Wow,” he said as he entered the kitchen. “Wilbur’s awake before me?”

Wilbur looked up from his cereal. “Don’t,” he replied morosely.

Techno couldn’t help but chuckle at the response. “What, didn’t sleep or something?”

Groaning, Wilbur turned to his brother. “I slept. I slept quite well, thank you very much,” he snapped.

“Doesn’t sound like it,” mumbled Techno.

“Like you would know. You somehow act just fine no matter how much sleep you get. I’m just not a morning person.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll back off,” said Techno. He did indeed back off, leaving to find himself some breakfast.

Phil shook his head at the two of them. Not in any disapproving way, more so a playful acknowledgement of their behavior. Their petty little fights were unstoppable, so he let them happen, waiting in case the fight escalated.

Wilbur finished his cereal as Techno sat down to eat his breakfast. After that, he left to go back to his room.

In his room, he flopped haphazardly onto his bed and relaxed. He wasn’t tired or anything, he just wasn’t awake yet. From his bedside table he picked up the book he was reading last night and continued where he left off. From over the top of his book he saw Tommy leave his room and head downstairs. He was finally alone for a while. Tommy would be a while downstairs, occupying Phil, and knowing Techno, he’d stay down there the whole time, talking about something Wilbur couldn’t care less about.

It was whatever. Wilbur was quite adept at slipping out of familial situations. Tommy and Techno seemed to fill his father’s time plenty anyways.

To his surprise, and perhaps even his chagrin, Techno came in earlier than anticipated. “So like, why’d you lie about not sleeping at breakfast?” He asked as he sat down on his own bed. “You know I know when you’re up.”

Wilbur slapped his book closed. “I lied ‘cause it’s nobody’s business.”

“We literally share a room. Your business is my business. It’s my right as the eldest to bother you about it.”

“Don’t you have things to do besides be a dickhead? A recital to practice for? Strategy books to read?” Asked Wilbur.

Shaking his head, Techno said, “I’m not in the mood for that today. Spent all of yesterday doing things like that ‘cause of the storm.”

Wilbur nodded in agreement. “More than I did. When did snow days become boring?”

“Well, Wilbur,” said Techno, “they got boring for you when you started spending all day waiting for a girl who definitely isn’t gonna call you to call you.”

Wilbur shot a glare at Techno. “At least girls have my number.”

Rolling his eyes, Techno shrugged off the comeback. “Seriously though, Wil. You should do something.”

“I was doing something,” said Wilbur, gesturing to his book.

“I mean actually doing something. Get out of bed. I know, come downstairs and we can do a little sparring.”

“If you just wanted some sword practice, you could’ve just asked me,” said Wilbur dryly. In all honesty, it didn’t sound like a bad idea. “Gimme a sec to get dressed and I’ll meet you down there.”

Techno nodded and left Wilbur alone to change out of pajamas and into something more fitting for a fight.

He walked downstairs and into the practice room. Well, half of it was a practice room. It was still technically a playroom, with half of it still having Tommy’s toys strewn about. In the half dedicated to the older boys, part of it had all their musical instruments in a corner, with sheet music and guitar tabs haphazardly splayed about on stands. The part that mattered was the fighting corner. It had practice weapons, and fighting dummies. Phil had this part put in a year ago, at the boys schools suggestion, after Techno’s third suspension for fighting.

“You ready to lose?” Asked Techno, who was waiting for him in the corner.

“Losing won’t sting too badly, there’s no audience,” replied Wilbur. “Can’t bruise my ego if no one sees it.”

“You’re still gonna lose.”

Smirking, Wilbur said, “I know, but what’s a win if there’s no witnesses?”

Techno tossed a practice sword to Wilbur. “You’re really taking all the satisfaction out of this, you know.”

Catching the sword, Wilbur nodded. “I know. It’s called mind games, Technoblade. I thought you’d know all that, with all the war books you read.”

“I think it’s called ‘delaying the inevitable’. Get over here and fight me.”

And that’s exactly what Wilbur did. Techno was correct. Wilbur did lose, but then again, Wilbur always lost. They weren’t kids anymore, and Techno had long stopped giving his little brother pity wins.

Wilbur got himself up, and turned to leave. As he did that, the good mood he had fell. Tommy was standing in the doorway.

He didn’t even say hello. “How come you always lose?” He asked.

“How come you never let people know you’re watching them?” Retorted Wilbur.

“I just got here,” said Tommy. “I’ve been watching cartoons, but they’re over now. Dad said I could play outside if you and Techno watched me.”

Techno, who had been putting away the swords turned to the other two. “And who says we want to watch you?”

The question made Tommy think. “Me,” he said, stretching his arms out to fill the doorway. “I won’t leave until you say you’ll go.”

“Kid, I can literally pick you up with one hand,” said Techno.

“Didn’t he try to bite you last time you did that?” Asked Wilbur.

Yes. Yes he did. Techno grimaced at the memory. “I think we’ve just been cornered by a five year old.”

Wilbur silently agreed. “Fine. We’ll take you.”

“Yes!” Cheered Tommy, who immediately ran out to get dressed.

The two followed behind, knowing he’d take longer than the two of them, seeing as he was younger and getting dressed more than they were. Still, it was decently cold out, so they threw on some heavy jackets and your usual winter accoutrements. After slipping on some boots, the two older boys followed Tommy out.

With intent, Tommy marched out to the back yard, which was piled high with snow from the storm. “You know, it kinda looks like a fort,” Tommy said, looking at the snowbanks. “Oooo,” he mused. “We could have a snowball fight!”

“We’d pummel you if we did a snowball fight,” said Techno.

“Well, maybe we could do teams?” Tommy suggested.

Wilbur shrugged. “I mean, me and Tommy would be pretty equal to one of you, Techno,” he added.

“Not really but it that’s what you wanna do, go ahead,” Techno said.

“Yes! That’s what I wanna do!” Said Tommy, already dragging Wilbur to one of the snowbanks.

Once there, Wilbur hunkered behind it, not easily hidden the way Tommy was. “Start making snowballs, go!” He whispered, then standing up. He turned to Techno, who was behind his own snowbank. “Now,” he said, putting on an extra dramatic voice for Tommy. “These are the official rules of duelling with snowballs! Number one: you cannot start throwing until the end of the count! Number two! You must announce when you’ve been hit! And number three: first one to hit their opponent ten times is the winner! Understood?” He called out.

“Understood!” Called back Techno.

Melodramatic? Yes. Did it keep most of the other neighborhood children from playing with them? Probably. But was it fun and made Tommy look at Wilbur like he was a god? Absolutely. “Oh-Kay! Three! Two! One! Go!” He shouted, immediately dipping behind the snowbank. A snowball whizzed above his head.

Tommy chucked one, and to everyone’s surprise, landed the first hit of the fight.

“Hit!” Called Techno, who went down to collect more snow.

“Nice one, Tommy!” Said Wilbur, throwing a snowball and missing. As he shook off the loss, was hit square in the chest with a snowball. He made a noise as the impact was made, then called the hit. He left Tommy and moved to another part of the snowbank for a different angle. As he did so, Tommy tried to hit Techno again.

Techno, being Techno, dodged it. He instantly retaliated.

The hit almost knocked Tommy backwards. “Ow!” He cried, before shaking it off. “Hit!” He called out, heading back down and rubbing the shoulder that was hit.

Tommy’s reaction made Techno pause. He wasn’t sure if he actually hurt Tommy or if he was just being a baby. It could be hard to tell. This pause was just long enough for Wilbur to pelt him, hitting him on his cheek.

“Get your head in the game, Techno!” Teased Wilbur.

“It’s not my fault! I was only standing there cause Tommy acted like he got shot!”

“Just call the hit, dude,” Wilbur said.

“Fine,” Techno said, rolling his eyes. “Hit.”

This went on for some time, them calling hits until they were almost tied. Seven to nine, Techno’s favor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tommy, so he turned went to throw a snowball at him, but Tommy jumped out of the way just in time.

While Tommy distracted Techno, Wilbur ambushed him, and got a hit off, as called by Techno.

And then, Tommy pelted another snowball at Techno.

“What the hell?” He asked, dumbfounded by the ambush. “Hit,” he added realizing he hadn’t called it. Both of his younger brothers were on him, and very close. Closer than he knew they were. He was stuck. They would obviously the final blow as soon as he went to make a snowball. They already had snowballs.

“And you said it wouldn’t be an even matchup,” said Wilbur. He tossed the snowball in his hand once, then whipped it.

It hit Techno right in the face. Frowning, he wiped the snow off of his face and called the hit. “You guys won. I hope you’re proud of yourselves.”

“We are,” said Tommy.

Before Wilbur could get in a snarky comment, the back door opened. It was Phil, who had popped his head out now that he saw his sons were done with their game. “You guys have been out for too long!” He called. “Get inside before one of you gets sick!”

“Fine!” Wilbur called back, already heading to the front door.

Techno and Tommy followed behind, and they took off their winter gear together in the foyer. Both Wilbur and Techno wiped their glasses on their shirts to defog them as they walked into the living room, taking in the heat of the house.

“I was gonna call you boys in earlier, but you were having too much fun,” said Phil from the kitchen. “I figured I’d use that time for something else.”

Tommy was the first to notice, and broke out into a run. “Hot chocolate?!” He asked in surprise.

The older two followed behind, the suspicion correct. Wilbur eagerly grabbed a mug and sat down. “Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. The warmth spread through his chest and into his stomach.

“Did you three have a good time out there?” Asked Phil.

Wilbur nodded.

“Me and Wil beat Techno!” Added Tommy.

“I saw,” said Phil. “You wanna tell me about it?”

Tommy’s eyes lit up. The chocolate already giving him a rush, he began to tell Phil the story of how he and Wilbur conquered their older brother.

Watching this, Wilbur couldn’t help but smile into his mug. Today was a good day. He hated to admit it, but Techno was right. Getting out and actually doing something did make him feel better. Now, even though it was still midday, he felt good. As much as he sometimes felt out of place in his family, he still loved good times like these. Yeah, today was a good day.

[dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade]

Reunion

Request: HERE  A/N: UPLOADING IT AGAIN BC I FORGOT TO TAG IT SORRY Soo it’s been what, one year, since I last posted a fic here? I’m kind of rusty ngl but nevertheless, it felt comforting to write something like this :) As usual, critiques and comments are welcome  Word count: 1.7 K+ Warnings: none

To be added - or removed - from the taglist, please DM me or leave me an ask!

GIF credit goes to @edgeofgreta; the original post is HERE

You walked into the apartment and set the two groceries-filled shopping bags onto the laminated floor. You kicked off your shoes and carried the bags into the open kitchen, placing them on the counter. With boredom, you took out every single item and placed them in their designated spaces. With the same growing boredom, you made your way back into the living room and threw yourself on the navy-blue sofa with your head sinking in one of the biggest pillows.

You pick up your phone and look at the screen – specifically, at the lockscreen wallpaper, which was a photo of you and Jake. Josh had taken that photo on one of the getaways you made together. Jake had on a beige shirt with his top four buttons undone – in other words, only with his lower two buttons done – and his favorite black hat. He was standing up tall, a wide smile on his face, and you were leaning against him, with your head placed on his right shoulder. You smiled and unlocked your phone, then opened the messages app and texted Jake.

I miss you :( Why does tour have to last this long?

Underneath the blue message bubble appeared the notification that the message had been read, then three typing dots appeared on Jake’s end.

I miss you too, honey. I can’t wait to get home and see you.

You begin to type.

Can we facetime later?

The answer came shortly.

Sorry, but tonight we have a gig. Tomorrow, too… We’re having practice now. Josh has again too much energy and needs to drain it a little bit before going onstage. Got to go now :( Love you

You typed back a formal luck-wishing message and threw the phone on the coffee table in front of the sofa. You were bored out of your mind and in the mood to do nothing whatsoever. Jake had been gone for almost three months now. You understood that it was his job and those were the terms and conditions you agreed to when you started dating him, but you didn’t figure at the time that separation would feel like that. It was safe to say that from time to time you missed him so much it hurt you.

You curled into a fetal position and turned on the TV. Flicking through the channels, you stopped at MTV. Highway Tune just began to play. Your heart grew at the sight of the boys and especially at the sight of Jake. You were so proud of them for getting that far and the mere thought that there actually is a far longer way for them to go made your heart beat in exhilaration. As the last notes of the song echoed through the room, you closed your eyes, pleased that you had seen the band on TV again.

You woke up from the “nap” way too late – it was 1 AM when you opened your eyes – so you moved from the living room to the bedroom. You didn’t bother changing your clothes and you just got underneath the blankets covering the double bed. Before falling asleep again, you looked over at the empty space next to you and you caressed the sheets, wishing that Jake would be there.

The new morning brought along a new day, but unfortunately, the base routine was the same: breakfast, staying in bed for way longer than you should’ve, going outside for some more groceries, flipping through magazines, watching TV, texting – or at least trying to text – Jake. The difference was that today, you called in sick for work and decided to do something fun.

After calling multiple of your friends, asking if they were free to go shopping with you, you finally let yourself defeated and decided you’d visit some shops on your own.

While you were at the bookshop – the one you frequently visited with Jake – you found a puzzle which, put together, should create a 3D globe with multiple images from the Renaissance era. You figured that Jake would find that puzzle at least as intriguing as you did. I could start putting together a welcome-home gift for Jake, you grinned as the thought crossed your mind. You picked the puzzle box off the shelf and walked around the bookshop with it. You stopped in front of the vinyl-filled boxes and you began browsing through them. Jake had a ridiculously large vinyl collection, but you listened to it together so many times that you almost knew every record by heart.

After way too much time spent pondering which records to get, you finally settled for The Doors’ Morrison Hotel and T-Rex’s Electric Warrior. On your way to the register, you stopped by the wine-for-special-occasions section and picked up a bottle.

With your heart filled with excitement, you came back home and called out. “Jake, I’m –,” but you stopped as you remembered that he wasn’t actually home. You slowly let the paper bag containing the puzzle, the wine bottle and the two records on the ground as you locked the door. Before unpacking, you checked your phone. No notifications from Jake. You felt your heart lightly twitch. You couldn’t blame Jake: he was just busy and most likely tired.

You took out the new acquisitions and arranged them on the low coffee table and smiled at the thought of Jake coming in through the front door.

You were tired, so you quickly did your night routine and you got into bed. Once you were in bed though, you couldn’t fall asleep. You just kept tossing back and forth, unable to find a comfortable position. Unannouncedly and unexpectedly, tears welled up in your eyes as you laid there, alone, facing the empty space to your left. You didn’t fight the tears back; you were alone in the darkness, there was no one who could see you. You just missed Jake so much. You missed the smell of his cologne imprinted even in his pajamas. You missed his laughter that managed to make you laugh all the time and you missed those moments when you’d both begin to laugh hysterically and you’d laugh at Jake’s laugh and he’d laugh at yours, and you both laughed so much that you forgot what started it in the first place. You missed his random moments of dancing around the house and you missed his complaints mostly aimed at Josh. As the memories reeled in the back of your mind, your sobs got more frequent. Thinking of it, three months didn’t sound like such a long time, but in reality, time is tricky. Three months can easily feel like three hours and just as easy can feel like three years. For you, it felt like three decades. You mindlessly grabbed Jake’s pillow and hugged it tightly to your chest, wishing it would be Jake instead of just a pillow.

As a new day dawned, you shuffled in your sleep and hugged the pillow again. You didn’t want to wake up just yet.

“Wakey, wakey,” a voice said from somewhere behind you, almost through a dream.

“Five more minutes,” you groaned, unwilling to open your eyes. You paused then and held your breath.

“You’re gonna be late for work,” the voice spoke again and a warm finger traced your side.

You jumped almost instantly. “Jake!” you shouted and collapsed over him, your arms circling his shoulders. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply – that faint smell of freshly squeezed lemons, mint and cigarettes. His arms circled your waist and you both fell onto the bed. “God, I missed you so much,” you whisper.

“I missed you too… I am so happy to be back home,” he said and hugged you tighter.

Time stood still for you. You were in your happy place and nothing could get you away from there. You pulled away and looked at Jake. You ran your index fingers on both sides of his face and then cupped his face in your hands. Jake didn’t break eye contact with you not even for a second. He softly leaned into your right hand and with his right hand, he took your free one and brought it up to his lips, leaving a kiss on it. “Come here,” he whispered and smiled at you, as his hand made its way up to your cheek, slowly guiding you in towards his lips. You closed your eyes and slightly tilted your head to the side, anticipation growing in your stomach. His lips on yours felt so soft, so satin-like and sweet. You couldn’t get enough of this feeling. As an instinctive gesture, you brought your hand up to Jake’s face and let your fingers roam over his soft skin until they mindlessly tangled into his hair. Jake chuckled in-between needier and needier kisses, “More to come later.” He softly pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “Next time, you’ll quit your job and come with me on tour.”

“Definitely,” you giggle, already picturing it in your mind. City after city, state after state – and you’d be there to see it all. “Jakey,” you say and pout a little.

“Yes, I will cuddle with you,” he nodded his head before you even got the occasion to ask the question. You break out in laughter and fall into the bed which, now that Jake was home, was even more comfortable.

You snaked your arms around Jake’s torso and pulled yourself closer to him. Jake pulled the blanket over the two of you in one swift move and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “I’m never letting you go,” you whisper and cuddle closer to his chest.

“Please never do,” he answered and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Did one of the boys tell you by any chance that we’re coming back early?”

“No, why?”

“Oh, that’s good. I wanted it to be a surprise,” he spoke lowly. “I saw you had some wine in the kitchen.”

You giggled. “It’s for us, for when you would come home.”

“I am home now,” Jake raised an eyebrow.

“I’m calling in sick again,” you announced and Jake’s laugh echoed through the room.

“That’s my girl.”

Tags: @myownparadise96, @satans-helper, @littlegeekwonder, @songbirdkisses, @angelstraightfr0mhell, @freeeshavacadoo, @safari-karrot​, @mountainofthesunn​, @bigthighsandstupidguys​, @starshinekiszka

[bonvoyagenoona]

kim line hate mint chocolate irl (like, all 3 of them) so i wonder if amomk!kim brothers also hate mint chocolate?? could be something cute they inherit from either mr. kim or mrs. kim hahah sort of like a family trait!! like imagine their handsome faces scrunching up in uncannily matching disgust at the same time it’d be so funny 😂 remember joon and seokjin in that run ep being like “every time we brush our teeth we wanna die bc toothpaste tastes like mint choco!!1!1!1!1! *wails*” 😂

[record scratch]

Oh no. Oh no no no. I forgot that the Kim line hates mint chocolate. Hmm. This is going to be interesting. Because I love mint chocolate. (@purplehearts1996 you'll get a kick out of me trying to write this.) But here's what I saw. And I'm going to write it like a script because, well, that's kinda what I've been doing this entire time?, and there's gonna be some time skipping?, so here we go!

INT. THE KIM HOUSE - DINNER TABLE - NIGHT - 21 YEARS AGO

The family's finishing dinner. Jin is 10, Namjoon is 8, and Taehyung is 6. Medals hang around the boys' necks, and Mrs. Kim smiles at them (the medals, not the boys) as she clears the plates.

Mrs. Kim: Because you were such good boys, and because you brought home so many medals, you can have extra helpings of dessert tonight!

[The boys cheer; Mrs. Kim disappears into the kitchen.]

Mr. Kim: Well done, boys. You worked very hard, and even though we love the medals, we'd be proud of you even if you didn't get them.

Jin: Thanks, Appa!

Mr. Kim: Thank Eomma, too.

The boys: (in cheery unison) Thanks, Eomma!

Namjoon: Glad we could make you both proud!

Taehyung: So what's for dessert??

Mrs. Kim: (hidden, in the kitchen) Ice cream!

The boys: ICE CREAM!

[Mrs. Kim returns with a carton of ice cream, five bowls, and five spoons.]

Mrs. Kim: Enjoy, darlings!

[Horror grows on all the Kim men's faces.]

Jin: Nooooo! This is disgusting!

Mrs. Kim: What? Why?

Namjoon: Mint chocolate chip ice cream tastes like toothpaste!

Mrs. Kim: No it doesn't! It's very lightly sweet, and it's also refreshing, and you get a bit of chocolate in---

Taehyung: And it looks like vomit!

Mrs. Kim: OK, well, more for me and Appa, then!

[Mr. Kim grimaces.]

Mrs. Kim: You too??

Mr. Kim: ...It does kinda look like vomit, dear.

INT. DINER - BOOTH - EARLY EVENING - 9 YEARS AGO

Jin, 22, has just graduated from college, and the family has just finished helping him move out of his dorm. They've stopped for a meal at some diner on the side of the highway. The waitress, a woman about the same age as Mr. and Mrs. Kim, is approaching to check in.

Waitress: How was everything?

Mr. Kim: Everything was great!

[Everyone nods and agrees excitedly.]

Waitress: Just have to tell you it’s been a pleasure serving you today. All smiles and laughs. You’re such a cute family. Is today a special day or someth---?

Mrs. Kim: (too eager) Our eldest graduated today! Top of his class!! 4.0 GPA!

Waitress: Congrats!

Taehyung: (slapping Jin’s shoulder) Yeah, congrats buddy, it took you so many tries, but you finally passed grade 4!

[Namjoon does a spit take into the remnants of his patty melt.]

Jin: Suck my dick, Tae!

Mr. Kim: Boys!

Waitress: (charmed) How are you all celebrating?

Mrs. Kim: We're going home and we're throwing him a big party tomorrow. (sighing happily at her family) I'm just so glad we're all together again!

Mr. Kim: We miss you boys when you're away.

Namjoon: Really?

Mr. Kim: Of course.

Mrs. Kim: It's hard having an empty nest.

Waitress: Yeah, but you two have got to be enjoying having the house to yourself, right? My husband and I made use of every room when our last one moved out.

[Mr. and Mrs. Kim start chuckling knowingly, leaning into each other and making each other blush.]

Namjoon: Ew.

Jin: Please, no.

Taehyung: I’ll pay for dinner if you stop.

Mr. Kim: (eyes still on his precious wife) You have no money, Tae.

Taehyung: Well, I was gonna use your credit card.

Waitress: Can I interest you in some dessert, then? We’ve got homemade pie, cake, and ice cream, but---

The boys: ICE CREAM!

Waitress: Alright, well, but our freezer broke, and the only flavor we’ve got is mint chocolate chip. Does that work?

Jin: Ew.

Namjoon: Please. No.

Taehyung: I’ll pay you with my Appa’s credit card to break the fridge it’s in.

Mr. Kim: Like hell you will. It’s not even about the price. I just don’t want it on record that I was anywhere around that kind of evil.

Waitress: Ah, so no ice cream?

Mrs. Kim: I’ll have two scoops in a bowl, and they’ll have the chocolate cake.

Waitress: Gotcha, so that’s two scoops of mint chocolate chip ice cream in a bowl, and four slices of chocolate cake.

Mrs. Kim: (warily) Actually, you should probably just bring the whole cake.

INT. KITCHEN - LATE NIGHT - PRESENT DAY

The boys are spending the night for the weekend in anticipation for family dinner. Mrs. Kim stands in front of the fridge and lazily eats mint chocolate chip ice cream straight from its pint-size carton. Taehyung sleepily walks in, rubbing his eyes, his navy pajamas crumpled.

Mrs. Kim: Everything OK, Tae-Tae?

[Taehyung hops up on the kitchen island.]

Taehyung: Yeah. I just couldn’t sleep.

[Taehyung notices the ice cream pint.]

Taehyung: Ice cream? Can I have some?

Mrs. Kim: But you hate mint chocolate?

Taehyung: I know, but I want some.

[Mrs. Kim hands him the carton, and he cleans the spoon in one drag.]

Taehyung: (pleasantly surprised) Hmm.

[Jin shuffles in, hair standing straight up, a bedhead salute.]

Mrs. Kim: You OK, Jinnie?

Jin: (leaning on the island next to Taehyung) Yeah, my leg’s just cramping a little bit. (sees the carton) Ice cream? Let me get in on that.

Mrs. Kim: But it’s---

[Taehyung lifts a spoonful to Jin’s mouth, and he gulps it down. Taehyung hands him the carton for more.]

Jin: Hmm. This is actually... kinda... OK...

[Namjoon joins them, stubbing his toe on the corner of the kitchen island and grumbling.]

Jin: Couldn’t sleep either?

Namjoon: Just can’t seem to turn my mind off. (sees the carton) Ice cream? This late?

Jin: Want some?

[Namjoon shrugs. Jin hands him the carton, and Namjoon takes a huge bite of ice cream. His eyes widen, like they always do when he’s eating. He grins.]

Namjoon: Huh.

Mrs. Kim: Is everything OK, darlings?

Taehyung: Yeah. 

Jin: Just one of those nights, I guess.

Namjoon: Yeah. Feeling kinda antsy.

Mrs. Kim: Well, that happens. 

Jin: Yeah?

Mrs. Kim: Sure. As you get older, you just kinda know you’ll have some antsy days. They’ll pass.

[Mr. Kim joins them, standing next to Mrs. Kim by the fridge.]

Mr. Kim: Boys? (to Mrs. Kim) What’s everyone doing up?

Mrs. Kim: We’re having an antsy kind of night.

Mr. Kim: Hmm. I was feeling antsy when I woke up and saw you weren’t in bed.

[The boys exchange fond looks.]

Taehyung: Aw.

[Namjoon smiles and hands the carton to Mr. Kim, who digs in without looking.]

Mr. Kim: (mouth full) Felt you moving around a lot in your sleep.

Mrs. Kim: I was?

Mr. Kim: Yeah. Hey, this is kinda good. (swallows) Were you having a bad dream, yeobo?

Mrs. Kim: No. I think I just wanted something sweet.

[Mr. Kim lifts the spoon to Mrs. Kim’s lips, and she smiles as she takes her bite. They all chat softly as they pass the carton around.]

[firelxdykatara]

not gonna lie I would love to hear more about the drama and infighting that went on in The Vampire Diaries fandom if you have the time (and also want to use that time to give your experience with the fandom, which from the snippets you've told sounds Not Fun so I get it if you don't want to lol)

oh god, there was like, SO MUCH, i just

i really feel like tvd is one of those fandoms that is so hard to describe without a lot of ‘you’d have to have been there’, but it really felt like this huge and all-consuming beast for about five years until the show finally imploded and the fandom basically turned on it en masse. (you ever see that post going around that’s like ‘if you ever want to know what true regret feels like, ask someone who once called tvd their favorite show’? still a mood, all these years later. basically the entire fandom thought the show should have just bowed out with whatever shreds of dignity it had left at the end of season 6, and became more of a hatedom than a fandom for the last two seasons. when you have an entire fandom cheering news of your show’s cancellation, i think that’s a sign you done fucked up, julie.)

first and most infamous, of course, are the ship wars. which are pretty much inevitable in any teen-centered drama, and i really think the CW fucking thrives on them, but it was particularly egregious in TVD’s case because not only was the base premise of the show a love triangle, but the two main romantic leads were brothers that the show constantly pit against one another--in pursuit of elena’s affections, but also because it kept up this insistence on the ‘good brother/bad brother’ dichotomy which stopped making sense after about season 2 (by which time we have found out that the good brother was never as good as he appeared, and the bad brother has been growing and isn’t nearly as bad as he pretends to be)--and the question of which brother ‘deserved’ elena (and no, what elena wanted very rarely factored into these discussions, especially in the team stefan camp because they turned on her when what she wanted was no longer The Good Brother, but i’ll get to that in a bit) was hotly contested.

i’m not kidding when i say the shipping wars were vicious. i started watching tvd shortly after it began to air, which was late 2009, and kept up with it fairly sporadically over the years. i didn’t come onto tumblr until 2011/2012, and by then, the fandom was already pretty much a garbagefire. there were anti ship and anti character blogs, any time something bad happened for one ship the rival ship would invade the tags to gloat about it (seasons 3 and 4 were especially rough, and i’m not gonna pretend delena fans weren’t just as bad about tag invasion and shit, but as that was my side of the road i saw a lot more of the stelena shippers being assholes, which soured my opinion on the ship a long time before i started rewatching and realized the red flags were there from the start), confessions blogs were popular also toxic as fuck (so much fighting happened in the notes of those posts, good gods), and this was right around when twitter’s popularity was on the rise and the line between Celebrity and Fan was thinning, so the fandom was absolutely atrocious to much of the tvd cast and crew.

(some of them deserved a lot of the later backlash, but in the early years a lot of it was ‘how dare you write the story in a way i dont like, you terrible fucking person’, and gods don’t get me started on the dobsley vs nian Thing)

i think what really encapsulates my feelings on the tvd fandom as a whole, though, is the way they (to this DAY) treated elena gilbert, which can be summed up in one meme that gained a lot of traction around season 3 if i remember right: that gif of pam from true blood, with the text altered to read “i’m so OVER elena and her precious doppelganger vagina!”

i swear at one time i had over half the active tvd fan accounts on tumblr blocked, because i got to a point where i would no longer tolerate elena hate, and she was (and still is, in what remains of the fandom; you’ll see a lot of ‘elena was one of the worst things about the show’ takes from ex-fans, too) one of the most widely despised characters in the entire fandom. because she -checks smudged writing on hand- was a traumatized teenage girl who -reads off a crumpled notecard- couldn’t always perfectly sort out her own feelings and -squints at the ceiling- sometimes made mistakes or bad decisions. (except a lot of the fandom also insisted that she was a mary sue who had no character traits or flaws or faults and it was like....make up your fucking minds???? is she a calculating conniving bitch whose somehow manipulating these centuries old vampires to tie them around her little finger or is she a boring flat character with no depth and no flaws??? jfc)

there was this massive double standard, too--like, stefan and damon could fuck whoever they wanted and that was fine, but elena was constantly raked over the coals for the crime of developing romantic feelings for the two men who had become constants in her life and whom she cared for deeply, and oh my GOD the slut shaming that happened when elena slept with damon was fucking wild. (and also happened in canon lmfao. like the show had one of elena’s best friends basically call her diseased on screen for falling in love with someone other than stefan. it was gross and ridiculous and the friend in question was also being a giant hypocrite at the time since she was happily flirting with someone who was directly responsible for the deaths of like four of elena’s loved ones and her own boyfriend’s mother but that’s beside the point) but like elena was called a slut and a bitch and a whore for ‘cheating’ on stefan (she hadn’t, and she had in fact broken up with him on screen the episode earlier) and ‘immediately’ jumping into bed with damon, even though none of them said fucking boo when stefan had one night stands or damon had fuckbuddies or whatever.

shit, caroline didn’t get any of this treatment when she started falling for tyler while dating matt! which isn’t to say i think she should have, just that i think it’s fucking ridiculous that elena was absolutely demonized by the fandom for daring to have feelings for two guys at once and eventually acting on them--despite the fact that the entire premise of the show was a love triangle. it’s not a love triangle if both sides don’t eventually get explored, and the crew had been pretty explicit about the fact that delena was going to happen at some point--but when it did, a huge chunk of the fandom absolutely threw a fit.

and a lot of these elena haters were alleged stelena stans, and i say alleged because they hated her so much for not wanting stefan’s dick anymore that it was clear they were really stefan stans and only wanted stelena to be endgame because they wanted stefan to ‘win’ at the end of the day, because ‘he’s the good brother’ so he deserved elena more.

it was all very gross and very misogynistic and very sex shaming (apparently delena was a ‘shallow’ and ‘superficial’ relationship because they had sex after two years of unrequited feelings slowly becoming requited and then pining for ages on both sides, and because they had a lot of on screen chemistry that the show capitalized on for years so of course they did a lot of making out and shit but it’s not like stelena didn’t have its fair share of making out and sex scenes, stefan was just too much of a coward to let elena top i’d apologize for that joke but i’m really not sorry because it’s true), and when i say it was egged on by the crew, that’s because they refused to let the love triangle die back in season 4 when it should have.

they insisted on stringing stelena fans along, dropping little bread crumbs to keep them invested, like dreams of a future where they were married and revealing that stefan was also a doppelganger and he and elena were descended from a pair of star-crossed lovers (a plot that ultimately went nowhere, to no one’s great surprise), and then fucking like. julie plec turned around and threw nina under the bus after she chose not to extend her contract and pretended that stelena might have happened again if she hadn’t left the show, which....i mean frankly i wouldn’t put it past her, but it would have been shitty writing. then again, she thought having a vampire pregnancy where a uterus was magically transplanted from a witch into a vampire that could somehow......carry the babies to term.... made sense and was a good way to accomodate candice’s RL pregnancy rather than like literally ANYTHING else, soooooo. but anyway julie saying that around like, end of s6 sparked off a new wave of nina hate and elena hate and ship wars bc they SEers took it as ‘confirmation’ that stelena was REALLY meant to be endgame and it was all just a hot fucking mess

another thing is that, while tvd was in its prime before the anti/purity culture shit started picking up any real steam, there was still this pervasive attitude throughout the fandom that if you liked Damon, you were A Bad Person. liking damon was apparently grounds for insults and harassment, and apparently he was The Worst Person on the Show even though literally nothing he does on screen is any worse than shit we know stefan has done (and frankly every other vampire too, but i mention stefan specifically because he was always held up--in the show but especially in the fandom--as the Good Brother while damon was the Bad One, and if you liked damon more then that had to mean your morals were dodgy and you clearly couldn’t appreciate what a heroic and saintly figure dear stefan was and....oops, i’m sorry, my salt keeps leaking -cough-).

meanwhile klaus quickly became a fandom darling despite not even really having much of a redemption arc (on tvd anyway, he just became more ‘affably evil’ as the show went on and more inclined to work with the main characters rather than try to kill them; i have no idea what went on over on his show, though), and like i can 100% appreciate liking villains and not caring that they do dodgy villainous shit, even just liking them bc they’re hot and wanting them to kiss a main character bc they have insanely good chemistry (yes i ship klaroline, no i won’t apologize for it, they could have been Really Great), it’s just really the double standard that gets me.

and all of this, incidentally, required ignoring some truly gross shit stefan was responsible for wrt his relationship with elena, that frankly it has always bothered me never really got addressed in the show. i get why elena herself would never be able to actually call him on it, but the fact is that he stalked her for months after he first saw her and thought she was katherine (meanwhile it only took damon .5 seconds to realize she was someone else entirely, but that’s another topic entirely), and then he deliberately inserted himself into her life because, in his words, ‘i have to know her’. he never gave a thought to how his presence in her life might affect her (or rather, he did, and tormented himself about it in his internal monologue, but never let this actually dissuade him from disrupting her life), and elena would wind up blaming herself for every tragedy that befell her friends and loved ones as a result of getting mixed up in vampire bullshit even though none of it was her fault--she literally blamed herself for existing but most of the fandom didn’t give a fuck about that lmfao--and stefan did shit like find out that she was adopted and then withhold this information from her until she got pissed about another secret he was keeping (her resemblence to katherine) and drop it on her to try and distract her from her very reasonable anger, and like... i should stop before this becomes a whole rant about how much i hate stefan fucking salvatore, but the point is, he did a lot of really sketchy shit he never answered for and elena never really took him to task for, and the fandom just kept eating up his insistence that he was the Good Brother and therefore he deserved to have elena, and if she didn’t want him anymore it was because she was a heinous bitch who didn’t deserve him.

uh.....i think i got off track there. and there’s probably a lot of shit i missed, like i think i was incandescent with rage for most of seasons 5 and 6 so i missed a lot of the interfandom shit cause i was too busy being increasingly pissed off at the show itself, but if nothing else this should give you an idea of how much of a goddamn cesspit the fandom was while the show as in its prime. there’s a reason both the show and the fandom have such a lousy reputation lmfao.

[yourmcu]

Wish You Were Here (i)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Avengers x Stark!reader

Summary:

an Infinity War/Endgame AU where Tony Stark’s daughter (you) is one of half the population that vanishes in the snap, Tony finds out later on when he arrives back to Earth, devastated, then you come back like the others to help fight Thanos.

Word count: 2,030

A/n: (moved to the end of the fic!)

Warnings: angst, death, swearing, a lil soft!Nat in the beginning bc I love her, mentions of anxiety/anxiety

read on ao3!

Part 2

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

You wanted to help in whatever was happening, you weren’t quite sure still, but it had something to do with the infinity stones and how you guys needed to find them before some guy named Thanos does.

It took a lot of convincing for Steve, Natasha and Rhodey (they were the ones more protective over you) to let you come, especially with Tony not around to scold you since he was in space.

“I’m coming with you guys whether you like it or not - no, I know what you’re gonna say, I can handle myself. I’m sixteen! Did you know Peter’s in space right now with Dad? Outer freaking space. You’re not the only one who has a suit, Rhodey-”

The argument ended with, “if something happens and I-” you dragged your thumb across your neck, “then it’s on me. None of you are to blame. Can we go now?”

So they didn’t have any other choice. You went to Wakanda with them to get the mind stone out of Vision and intend to destroy it afterwards.

Things got a *bit* out of hand though, there was an army of creatures - they’re from space, you assumed, working for Thanos - trying to get the stone. You fought alongside Sam and Rhodey, sometimes even fighting with Bruce who was using the Hulkbuster. You also helped the Wakanda tribes when they got overpowered by the creatures.

Even Thor came back to fight and he brought a raccoon and a tree with him.

The battle was going really messy, until - “Everyone on my position. We got incoming.”

You fly to where Cap and the team are, and there he is coming out of what appears to be a cloudy, blue grayish portal, Thanos himself.

“Cap, that’s him.” Bruce says as he hides you behind the Hulkbuster to shield you. He slowly walks over to the purple titan before saying, “stay down, [Y/N], alright?”

Did all of them suddenly forget that you, if not more, are stubborn like your father?

Because when all of them attack, you fly behind Thanos when he's distracted and wrap both your metal covered arms around his neck in stupid attempts to strangle him. He effortlessly uses his gauntlet to throw you back to the ground, knocking you out.

He eventually got all the stones, snapped his fingers when Thor failed to kill him, and left.

“What did you do?!”

“Where did he go? Thor, where did he go?”

“What’s happening?” You get off the ground as Bucky turns to dust. You look around and saw the air filled with the same dust, just from different people.

What the hell did that snap do?

People are vanishing, disappearing, are they dying? Why are they dying? You’re pretty sure you're panicking. Your lips start to quiver and you feel your chest tighten, making it hard for you to breathe.

Natasha notices right away. She's the one who could help you with your anxiety attacks besides Tony. She comes to you and places her hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eye. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, you’re fine, just breathe with me,”

You watch Wanda, one of  your best friends, turn to dust too which did not help in the slightest. What’s worse is when Natasha holds your hands to calm you down,

They start turning into dust particles.

“No no no no no no,” you grow weak, holding onto her. “Nat, I’m scared - I don’t - I don’t know what to-”

“Y/N, just breathe like we practiced, okay?”

You try copying her breathing but it’s no use. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re still fading away. You look at her, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes, “I’m so sorry.” She has no choice but to hug you tightly until you get dusted completely.

The Avengers just lost a kid. Not just any kid, for them you were special. You always supported the team no matter what. They couldn’t even imagine what Tony’s reaction would be.

When Natasha told Pepper of course she didn’t take it well.

You were Tony’s own flesh and blood (and some one night stand chic that we won’t mention anymore starting now), but Pepper helped raised you when Tony first took you in and treated you like her own. Sometimes you even called her ‘mom’.

She was so relieved when a spaceship came by the compound to drop Tony off - he looked weak and skinny - she didn’t know how to break the awful news to him while he was in that condition.

“I lost the kid,” he meant Peter. What he doesn’t know was that he actually lost two.

“It’s been twenty-three days since Thanos came to Earth.”

Bruce and Natasha keep looking over one another as images of the people they lost in the snap took turns popping up as holograms. Rhodey feels tense and keeps tapping his foot - nervous of what his best friend’s gonna do once he sees-

Tony abruptly stands up from his wheelchair. “Stop. Stop there.” (“Tony, you need to sit down,”) “No.” He stumbles over to a particular hologram, the one with his daughter’s face.

Y/N Stark.

The room is awfully quiet. Despite you telling them that it isn’t going to be any of their faults if something happens to you, they still feel responsible for you.

“Was anyone going to tell me?” He speaks softly. Too soft and calm for all of them that they remain glued to where they're standing, avoiding eye contact. He clenches his fists and sends a look to  everyone in the room. “You better not be shitting me I already lost Parker and I - I can’t - I can’t lose her. I can’t.”

“Tony,” Natasha says. “We couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

It's like being stabbed with his own blade all over again. She tells him everything that happened, how you got dusted like Peter, and Tony just stares blankly at your photo, looking very pale.

Tony takes a deep breath and pushes his glasses further up his nose, holding in  tears. Good thing his glasses cover it up. He mutters ‘okay’ over and over as he takes a seat back in his wheelchair. Steve hesitates to continue the discussion but Tony encourages him to go on, even though he feels like he was literally dying inside.

His mood definitely went downhill from there - Tony's furious with himself. Furious with them, with Steve, that he takes it out on the super soldier. By the end of it he's on the floor, passed out.

“Dad, come in, it’s [Y/N]. Everything alright out there?”

“Oh y’know, typical day in the city - pair of aliens came to visit again.” Tony sounded breathless.

You paused briefly. “...what? W-well, do you need help? I can help, and Peter’s probably on his way there - he just made a lame excuse and hung up on me so, I figured he sensed something was wrong.”

“Yeah. Stay where you are and when things get worse, find Pepper and get to safety.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Nope. Deadass serious. Stay out of this one.”

Tony opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings. He's transferred to a bed with the same wires poking his arm. He dreamt of his last conversation with you - before and while he was dragged to space.

“Hey, I’m still here, you know,” you cut him off while he was arguing with Strange.

“[Y/N]? How is this still connected?”

“I made the earpiece set myself - I guess it has really long range, huh?”

“You’re a nerd.” Tony cracked a small smile.

“Hi [Y/N]!” Peter shouted from a distance.

“Peter? You’re in space too? I’m so jeal-”

The line completely went out, guess the range wasn’t that long.

“Tony?” Pepper says gently. “You shouldn’t be up - it’s only been an hour since you passed out.”

He looks at her for a moment then returns his attention to the wall, eyes bloodshot. “Have I been a good father to her? ‘Cause I feel like she deserved more. Way more.”

“Of course, she loved you! Tony, [Y/N] loved you as much as you love her,” Pepper reassures, running a hand through his hair. “I know you’re upset but you really should be getting bed rest right now.”

He sniffles and gave a small nod, “okay.”

He closes his eyes again when she left the room and sigh, mumbling “goddammit kid,” before letting the tears flow down. Tony rarely cries. Barely cries. He usually keeps those stupid emotions in but this - the fact that his little girl is gone, it's too much for him. He realized never fully showed how much you meant to him and he regrets it.

Can't help but think that it should've been me Either way, I still wish you were here.

Fast forward to five years later: Tony now lived at a lakeside cabin with Pepper and their daughter, Morgan.

Moving on was better than to be sad and depressed for the rest of his life. That’s what you wanted for him anyway, to be happy.

So that’s exactly what Tony did.

He spent time with his family, made new suits which he enjoyed to do, living his life peacefully. That doesn’t mean he forgot about you. Sure the last few years were hard, he missed you every single day, but he had to face and accept it.

Tony moved your stuff from the compound and into a vacant room in the cabin. Sometimes he’d look through your crazy inventions, your journals that were filled with ideas for future gadgets and he hung up framed photos of you and him (some with Pepper) on the walls.

He told Morgan all about you. How awesome you were, how you were energetic and enthusiastic in everything you do, and how the both of you would be best friends if you two met.

“I wanna meet her,” Morgan says, looking at pictures of you.

Tony smiles sadly and looks at the photo of you and him. It was at your school’s science fair and your invention won first place (he remembered laughing at all the science teachers’ shocked faces because of your advanced gadget, way advanced than the grade you were in). Both of you looked really happy.

If a picture is all that I have, I can picture the times that we won't get back If I picture it now it don't seem so bad Either way, I still wish you were here.

“Someday, maybe.” He replies, giving her a warm smile.

Steve, Natasha and a new guy Scott visited him one day. They basically told him bringing back everyone who died in the snap was possible, hinting time travel.

Tony was torn. He didn’t want to risk losing what he had now, but bringing everyone back... that was something. Everyone in the universe that vanished, the other Avengers, the guardians he met in space, Strange, Peter, you.

That same night he thought about you, and Peter when he stumbled upon a picture of both of them. That same night, he figured out time travel.

“Hey legacy,” he chuckles a bit, remembering how you always frowned or pouted whenever he called you that. He likes that nickname on you though. “I... uh, this is just a little video. For you. Sure you won’t see this but... I like to pretend I could still talk to you. I miss you, a lot.”

“It’s been five years, hun. Morgan, your sister... you have no idea how much she talks about you. She wants to meet you someday,” he looks at the camera. “I know I can’t tell her the real reason why you’re not here with us, not yet, but anyway, ‘couple of old pals came to visit me. They want to try to get everyone back, that includes you.”

Tony sighs, looking away. “As of now I don’t know if we’re ever gonna pull off something like this. I figured it out, just a couple minutes ago actually. Time travel. It’s dangerous, very risky...”

“But we’ll see. We’ll figure something out. I hope to see you soon, [Y/N]. I love you.”

----

so I’ve cut this lil idea into two parts - I’ll probs post part 2 soon right after this one - if everyone likes it of course :)

oh, and I listened to this song by Neck Deep while writing this, which is where I got the title too, you can listen here. (I also put in some lyrics from the song to the story, just because it fits well hehe)