Jan 2
Hey guys, are there any good Fall Out Boy interviews I can watch so i can get a good characterization of the whole band? I need dynamics so I can write fanfiction good im desperate gang
seen from China
seen from Argentina
seen from Spain
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Yemen
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
Hey guys, are there any good Fall Out Boy interviews I can watch so i can get a good characterization of the whole band? I need dynamics so I can write fanfiction good im desperate gang
This is going to be a multichaptered Peterick angst. Tags are all mentioned on the post!!
Cherry Blossom
A fluffy drabble kind of based around the Japan tour, for my friend Annie ( @plumptrick ) and all of the anons that have been asking about fluff!!
Special shout out to @hidefromeveryone for giving me feedback on this since I’m paranoid about endings (rip lol)
TW: food m, fluffy, short, ask to tag
As much as he complained about traveling, Patrick loved visiting other places. Tokyo was his favorite city to visit, but he liked to go anywhere. He supposed it was because he liked to learn about the cultures, but Pete was sure it was because of the food and the sights.
Pete smiled when he walked onto the balcony of their hotel, to find Patrick leaning against the edge, staring out at the city below. He was wrapped up tightly in his jacket and scarf, but he still seemed cold. Pete sat down the coffees he made them and leaned against the railing beside him, not saying anything for a few moments.
Patrick sighed softly and leaned his head against Pete's shoulder, prompting the older man to wrap his arms around him.
"It's so pretty here," Patrick said quietly. Pete nodded, leaning forward to rest his chin on Patrick's shoulder.
"Maybe.. Maybe for the um.. We could honeymoon here, if you wanted?" Patrick stuttered out, face turning an adorable shade of pink.
Pete smiled and kissed his cheek, nodding. "We can do that Pattycakes."
Patrick hummed, leaning back against his fiance. The tour was almost over, which he was sad about, but Pete agreed that they could all hang out in Japan for an extra day, just to walk around and maybe meet more fans. Patrick desperately wanted to go to some of the more tourist-y spots, determined to get Pete the most ridiculous souvineir he could find.
Pete kissed his temple before letting him go, pulling Patrick over to the little chairs and table. Wordlessly, Pete pressed the little styrafoam Starbucks cup into the singer's hand, making him smile.
Patrick sat in between Pete's legs, letting the older man wrap his limbs around him while he sipped his coffee. Pete sighed, resting his cheek against Patrick's shoulder blades.
"Andy said he's taking us to this vegan place he found for breakfast tomorrow," Pete said absently, lacing his fingers with Patrick's. "He said we have to, or him and Joe are gonna kick our asses."
Patrick chuckled, smiling against the rim of his cup. He took a sip before leaning back against Pete, looking up at him. "We'd better go then, huh? An angry crossfit junkie isn't someone I wanna mess with."
Pete nodded,"Damn straight."
Beaming, Patrick leaned up to press a kiss to the underside of Pete's jaw. "After we drop them off at the airport, I wanna go to that bridge we passed on the way to the venue."
Pete nodded, squeezing Patrick slightly. "We can do that. You have to take a selfie with me though."
Patrick groaned dramatically, smiling when he turned to see Pete's grinning face. Patrick liked that, that after all these years he could still make Pete's eyes light up, make him smile so bright.
His smile turned soft, and Patrick turned, sitting the coffee on the floor beside their chair. He leaned forward, arms wrapping around Pete's neck, pulling him into a gentle kiss.
Pete hummed appreciatively, arms wrapping tightly around Patrick's lower back. For a moment they kissed gently, flush against one another but somehow still not close enough. Patrick pulled away with a sigh, blinking at Pete sleepily.
"I love you," he whsipered, smile tugging at his lips.
Pete pressed his nose against the singer's, stealing one more kiss before leaning back.
"You're sleepy," he said quietly, fingers brushing hair from Patrick's face. The singer hummed, nodding when Pete gently tugged him up.
They undressed in the dark, Pete locking the balcony door as Patrick climbed into bed. The bassist slid into the blankets beside his fiance, getting as close to him as he could. Patrick's arms were tight around him, their legs tangling together under the sheets.
Pete tucked his head under Patrick's chin, sighing happily when he started to kiss Pete's hair, callouhsed fingers tracing circles on Pete's bare back.
"Love you," Pete whispered sleepily, pressing one last kiss to Patrick's neck before closing his eyes. Patrick's quiet singing filled the room, pulling Pete closer and closer to sleep.
Fresh Only Bakery
( Tell Hip - Hop I’m A Dad )
Look the title is lowkey awful BUT this is for the anon that requested more parent peterick, with a special shoutout to my buddy Spencer ( @hidefromeveryone ) for helping me with the plot!
AU: my child won’t stop crying but they start laughing at you / im sorry my kid pointed at you but y’know what that shirt is terrible
TW: food mentions, bad flirting,
Patrick really regretted not drinking that second cup of coffee that morning. He’d worked at the studio for a while, mixing another track for Cobra, but then decided he wanted to take Declan out for the day. It was a nice day out, admittedly. Sunny days in Chicago were something to be cherished.
They went to the museum and the mall, stopping by Patrick’s favorite record store, before deciding to take the bus home instead of walking. Patrick managed to find a not gross looking seat for Declan to sit in, and he stood in front of him, holding the bar with one hand and his phone with the other.
Things were okay at first. Declan was a little fussy, as most toddlers are when you take them out for long periods of time, but then the chaos started.
“Daddy, I wan a cupcake!”
“Dec, we haven’t even had dinner yet buddy. Cupcakes are gonna have to wait.”
Declan started pouting, quietly at first, but the whining slowly got worse. Pretty soon, his son was close to screaming, a few eyes turning toward them. Patrick felt his face heat up, stomach curling into a knot as he put his phone in his pocket and leaned down to his son.
“Dec, c’mon buddy, I said we can get cupcakes later? You have to eat your good food first.”
He felt the bus slow to a stop, people getting off, replaced by more tired people.
“Dec, please don’t cry? I’ll let you pick the movie tonight if you behave for the rest of the ride home.”
Declan’s cries didn’t slow, and Patrick sighed, resigning to the fact that he was now the asshole dad on the bus with the screaming kid.
The bus doors closed, and they slowly started driving again. People pushed their way around for seats or places to stand, and a man not much taller than Patrick grabbed the bar close to him.
Despite the fact that his toddler was causing a scene, Patrick couldn’t help but look over at the guy. Even for Chicago, he was dressed kind of weird. Bright yellow pants, with a flannel shirt and black boots. He was obviously wearing a wig and fake mustache, but despite the strange attire, didn’t look too bad.
Patrick looked away from him, back down to his... No longer screaming toddler?
Declan was staring up at the man beside him, blue eyes wide, a small smile slowly stretching across his face.
“Daddy!” Declan said loudly, pointing at the man beside him.
“We can get donuts? His shirt has them Daddy, can we get some too?”
Patrick flushed bright red, feeling the man’s eyes fall on him, and then on Declan.
“Uh.. S-Sure Dec, yeah, we can get donuts. But only after you eat dinner.”
Declan smiled and nodded, still staring at the man. “Daddy,” he asked quietly, eyes turning to his father,” Why’s his hair funny?”
Patrick was mortified. He turned to the stranger, apology already on his lips, but the man was beaming.
“Can I tell you a secret little guy?” He asked; his voice sounded nice, like he made jokes a lot. Patrick relaxed a little, watching the exchange carefully.
Declan nodded, leaning forward. The stranger smiled. “This isn’t my real hair!” He tugged the wig off carefully, tucking it under his arm to shake his real hair loose. Oily black hair was now poking out everywhere, most of it covering his eyes. He tore off the fake mustache as well, rubbing his lip as he smiled down at the now shocked toddler.
“Daddy, can I get fake hair too?”
“No, buddy, but maybe some other time.” Patrick smiled, turning to the man.
“I’m sorry if he embarrassed you, I.. Alright in all honesty it was an ugly outfit, but you made him stop screaming, so thanks. Um, I’m Patrick by the way.”
“Pete,” the man said easily, grinning lazily at Patrick. “And it’s cool, he’s a cute kid.”
Patrick nodded, smiling down at his son fondly. There was a pause before he heard Pete speak quietly again. “Y’know I can see where he gets it from.”
Patrick blushed, whipping his head around to stare at him in shock. A mischievous grin stretched wide across his handsome face, his brown eyes sparkling. The sight made Patrick’s stomach flutter.
“T-Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. Y’know, aside from your terrible fashion choices.”
Pete laughed loudly, earning Patrick more glares; by now he had more than likely pissed off the entire bus, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Much, anyway.
“Really though, why in the hell were you wearing that?”
Pete bit his lip, smiling nervously at Patrick. “My stop is soon, but um.. Give me your number, and I could tell you later?”
Patrick blinked, feeling the heat rush up to color his face. “S-Sure, okay, yeah, um.. Do you have your phone, or a pen, or..?”
Pete pulled a sharpie out of the pockets of his way too tight yellow jeans, handing it to Patrick.
He glanced at Declan before uncapping it, nervous as to what the toddler might say. Pete rolled up one of his shirt sleeves, revealing dark tattoos covering his arms. Patrick bit his lip, writing the number on the palm of his hand instead of ruining the ink.
Declan leaned forward, oohing. “Can I see?” He asked, smile bright and pleading. Patrick could recognize the puppy-dog eyes easily, but it seemed that Pete didn’t mind.
He leaned down, showing Declan his sleeve. “It’s the Nightmare Before Christmas! That’s my favorite Disney movie.”
“Mine’s Aladdin!”
Patrick smiled, watching as the two talked about Disney until the bus slowed to a stop.
“So, um, Patrick.. I’ll text you later?” Patrick nodded, waving as he walked off the bus. Declan shouted his goodbye, settling into the seat as soon as the doors shut.
“Daddy, I liked him.”
Patrick grinned, gathering their things for the next stop. “Yeah, I did too.”
Grand Theft Autumn
“Pete has a really shitty boyfriend, and when Patrick finds out how bad he really is, he gets protective”
Came up with this while talking to my lovely friend Hannah ( @glowingpatrick )
TW: abuse, sexual abuse, physical abuse, violence, depression, food m, ask to tag!! (it gets fluffy later i promise, they almost always do!! <3 )
The mugs gripped in either of Patrick’s hands were steaming, and he was very careful as he walked down the hallway to his room. Pete was curled up on his bed, eyeliner streaks drying on his face from where he had been crying.
This was the third night this week that his best friend had knocked on his door, tears flowing freely and another excuse for his shitty boyfriend bubbling on his lips. Patrick was getting sick of it, honestly. Not of Pete, of course, it wasn’t his fault. But Ethan.. Ethan was a problem.
Patrick noticed immediately of course. He was never really good to Pete, never listened to him or held his chair for him, or did anything that Pete did. Pete, sweet, innocent Pete, would buy him flowers or candy or dinner randomly, buy him the album for his favorite band, and wore all of his shirts. Ethan, however, did none of that. On Pete’s birthday, he managed to get him at least a thing of take out. Pete had called Patrick that night after Ethan left, asking if he was good enough, if he was worth anything at all. Patrick drove over at 4 in the morning and sat with him, watching cartoons with Pete curled up against his chest.
Ethan hated Patrick, of course, but this was the one area Pete wouldn’t budge on. Even if the douchebag controlled every other aspect of Pete’s life, Pete refused to let him push Patrick away. It gave the younger man a warm feeling, even if it worried him.
Patrick sat down on the bed beside Pete, tapping him lightly to get his attention. Pete flinched, sitting up and backing away immediately, before his eyes focused on Patrick and he relaxed. His reaction made Patrick queasy, but he said nothing.
“Thank you,” he said hoarsely, voice scratchy from crying. Patrick shook his head, sitting cross-legged beside his friend. They sat in silence for a moment, until Patrick spoke.
“Pete you have to stop letting him do this to you.”
Pete sighed, hanging his head. Flat ironed bangs fell over his face, but Patrick knew what it would look like. The shame, the fear, the hurt. Patrick desperately wanted to see him smile again, a real smile, the kind he had gotten so used to seeing.
“It.. He just.. He gets upset sometimes Trick? He gets mad and.. And I get it, I’m the same way kinda, like I have weird fits too so.. So it’s the same thing.”
Patrick narrowed his eyes at him, making Pete shrink further. The blond sighed, letting Pete relax before he continued.
“Pete, your mental illness doesn’t excuse you being a dickhead. You haven’t ever been cruel to someone because of your depression, ever. Especially not someone you loved.” Patrick shook his head, rubbing Pete’s arm as he continued,” You never ever said such hateful shit to people either. Thought it, maybe, but never said it.”
Pete huffed, “Yeah but his is different! Ethan can’t help it, he gets this fits, he can’t control his ac- He can’t control what comes out his mouth Patrick!” Pete insisted, looking up at the younger earnestly.
Patrick caught the slip, the one that Pete was desperately hoping he wouldn’t.
“Pete,” he said quietly, voice deadpan. “What do you mean he can’t control his actions.”
Pete, for once, was quiet, mouth closing with a snap. He stared at the bed, eyes watering as Patrick leaned forward. Somehow, his voice became softer, and his hands were feather-light on top of Pete’s.
“Panda,” he breathed, fear and disgust welling up inside of him, “Panda, please.. What’d he do to you? What’s.. What’s going on?”
Pete started sobbing, leaning forward into Patrick. The younger caught him easily, hands rubbing circles on his back as Pete sobbed into his shirt. Patrick shushed him, lips brushing against his hair until Pete was able to breathe again.
The bassist shook his head as he pulled back, wiping away tears. He sat cross-legged in front of Patrick, hands folded neatly in his lap. Patrick thought he looked small suddenly, almost like a scared child. It broke his heart to see the man he loved so much, so terribly broken.
Pete sniffled, not looking up at Patrick. “It’s.. It’s bad Trick. I know it’s bad, what he’s doing.. I.. I know that he shouldn’t,” Pete swallowed, eyes closing,” He shouldn’t h-hit me, or f-force me t-to-” Pete choked up then, tears flowing, but Patrick had heard enough. Carefully, Patrick pulled Pete into his arms, biting back his own tears as he rocked his best friend back and forth.
Even when the tears stopped Patrick held on, rocking Pete in his arms.
“Pete,” he whispered finally, stopping his movements to look down at the older man. “Panda, this has to stop. I know you’re scared, Pete, but I’ll protect you.. I’ll help you, it’s gonna be okay..”
Pete nodded, biting his lip. “Yeah,” he said finally, sounding more tired than he had in years. “Yeah, I think.. I think I want help.” he admitted, looking up at Patrick hopefully. The brown eyes that Patrick loved so much were full of tears and fear, dark circles more sunken in than they had been in a long while. Patrick kissed his forehead gently and nodded, squeezing his fingers.
“Alright then. Right now you need to go get changed, we’re gonna go to sleep, yeah? We’re gonna handle it tomorrow, I won’t leave your side for a moment. We’re gonna get you out Petey.”
He nodded, smiling apologetically at Patrick before standing. As soon as the bathroom door shut, Patrick fell forward, face in his hands, and cried. He wept silently, cursing at himself for not noticing sooner. He stood on shaky legs and made his way to the living room, phone in hand.
He called Andy first, knowing the drummer would be near Joe. He hastily explained, asking him to come help Patrick move Pete out of Ethan’s apartment early the next morning. Andy agreed, grim determination in his tone. Patrick hung up, dialing Pete’s mom next.
“Patrick?” she asked sleepily, confusion evident in her voice. He cringed; he’d forgotten about the time difference again.
“Hey Dale,” he said, trying to keep his tone light.
“Patrick? Is Something wrong? It’s late dear.. What happened?” the fear was evident in her voice. “Is.. Is Pete..?”
Patrick shook his head, answering quickly,”No ma’am, nothing like that. Pete..,” he sighed, sitting down on the couch and rubbed his eyes,” Pete is okay, but not exactly the best.”
He explained to Dale as best as he could, the woman going silent on the other end of the line. When he finished telling her about what he had heard and what he planned on doing, Dale sighed.
“I never did trust that boy,” she said softly, voice wavering on the other end of the phone. “Do what you think is best, Patrick, honey, I trust you. I know you will do everything to help Pete.. Just.. Bring him home soon? I need to see you both..” Patrick smiled sadly; Dale was motherly towards him too, always insisting on making him a big meal every time he visited with Pete.
He said his goodbyes, sighing before pushing himself up off the couch. Pete was pulling a shirt over his head when Patrick walked in, and paled at the shocked expression on Patrick’s face.
Bruises. Purple and yellow bruises were scattered across Pete’s back, marring the tattoos there, the golden skin. Patrick swallowed, fury and disgust and concern consuming him. For a moment he stood in the door way, hands shaking, before stepping forward.
Pete whimpered, staring doe-eyed at Patrick, apologies on his lips. The singer waved it off, carefully pulling Pete close to him. Patrick’s hands cradled either side of Pete’s face, and he looked directly into his eyes as he spoke.
“I’m going to make you safe, Pete. I promise. I’m gonna help, and this will never, ever happen to you again. I promise.”
Pete nodded, closing his eyes. Patrick pulled him into a gentle hug, kissing his shoulder once before pulling away.
They slipped under the blankets together, Pete curling into Patrick’s side. He fell asleep quickly, exhausted from crying so much, but Patrick couldn’t. He stared at the ceiling, running his fingers through Pete’s hair, wondering why he hadn’t just gotten the balls to confess to Pete all that he felt, so that Pete wouldn’t have to go through this. He finally fell into a fitful sleep, holding tightly to Pete.
Early the next morning Pete woke up to voices. Groggily, he reached around the bed to feel for Patrick, but he wasn’t there. Pete stood, confused and sore, and made his way into the living room wrapped tightly in one of Patrick’s hoodies.
Joe, Andy, and Patrick were standing in a circle, talking quietly to one another. Their faces were serious, voices hushed. Pete frowned and made his way closer, sitting on a couch in front of them all.
When Pete sat down they stopped, faces turning softer at the sight of him. Patrick sat down on the couch beside him, glancing at Andy and Joe before speaking.
“Morning Pete. You sleep okay?”
The bassist nodding, glancing at his other two friends. He hadn’t been around them much since the last tour, mostly because of Ethan. Pete hated that fact, that he couldn’t see his friends. Andy’s beard had been trimmed, and Joe’s hair somehow longer and curlier. Both were watching him and Patrick, arms crossed in front of their chests. Pete swallowed, stomach turning.
“S-so.. Call for back up, huh?” Pete grimaced, trying to make the situation lighter, but the truth is he was terrified. He knew that Andy alone could take Ethan easily, Hurley was a beast, and between the three of them Pete would be safe. But the thought of going back there, to have the people he loved so much so close to what he was beginning to realize is a monster.. It made him sick.
Patrick patted his knee, trying to comfort him, but it only made him feel worse. Pete loved Patrick, had been in love with him for so long, but he was straight. Pete never had a chance, and so he gave up, falling for the first guy to give him attention. Ethan was a mistake, these past few months were a mistake, and his life was falling apart. Again.
Patrick’s hand squeezed his fingers, and Pete realized that he had gone silent and started to cry, tears falling from his eyes. He blinked, wiping his face, keeping his eyes down. Patrick frowned, glancing at Andy and Joe before continuing.
“Pete. We’re gonna go get your stuff, okay? We’re going with you. I’m not gonna let him hurt you anymore Panda, I promised.”
Pete nodded sadly, biting his lip before standing up. He scrambled to get dressed, keeping Patrick’s hoodie, and walked out of the door.
The ride was mostly silent. Joe and Andy sat up front, Pete squished against Patrick’s side in the back. He toyed with the strings of the jacket, glancing up at his friends occasionally.
“What do I do when I move out,” he asked suddenly, looking up at Patrick, and then to Joe.”I sold my apartment, I don’t have anywhere to go.. I mean, I could go back to my mom’s I guess, but.. That’s hours away,” he said sadly.
Joe frowned and looked at Patrick, who nodded before turning to Pete.
“Stay with me. I have a guest room, dumbass. I need to clean it out, but you can sleep in my bed until then, and I’ll take the couch.”
Pete started to protest, to insist that Patrick didn’t have to give up so much for him, but was silenced by Andy’s quiet voice. “We’re here.”
Pete stopped breathing for a moment, looking at Patrick in panic. The younger man nodded at him encouragingly before climbing out of the car.
Pete followed, standing close to Patrick as Joe led the way to the door. He knocked twice, stepping back to move closer to Andy, and Ethan opened the door.
He was barefoot and in boxers, looking at them all in disgust. When he noticed Pete peeking out from behind Andy, his face went blank, before twisting into a cruel smile.
“Hey baby,” he leaned against the doorframe, glancing at the others before focusing on Pete again. “You should’ve told me if we were having a party”
Pete swallowed hard and stepped forward, feeling the rest of his band watching him out of the corner of their eyes. “I- I’m leaving Ethan. W-We’re th-through.”
Ethan laughed darkly, stepping away from the door. “Sure sugar. Get your shit and leave, then. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”
Pete held back a shudder, moving forward when Andy and Joe did. They both pulled out trashbags and started grabbing Pete’s stuff, putting everything in bags. Patrick stayed close to Pete’s side, helping him grab things and put them in a different trashbag. Andy and Joe filled two bags on their own, and carried them out to Joe’s car, leaving Pete and Patrick inside.
Ethan sat on the couch, lighting a cigarette as he watched them all move. Pete panicked for a moment, terrified of Patrick’s asthma, but the singer waved it off. Ethan’s eyes followed every move they made, laughing occasionally at something they did. It scared Pete, terrified him down to his core.
Patrick gave Pete a small smile every time their eyes met, encouraging him as best he could. The singer grabbed Pete’s bass off the wall and left the bedroom, taking it to Joe so that it would be put safely in the car.
When he returned, Ethan was standing close to Pete, holding tightly to his arm. Patrick couldn’t see his face, but he could see Pete’s, and the way he was leaning and what he was saying was making the bassist terrified.
Rage, pure and unfiltered rage boiled up. Patrick moved without thinking, snatching Ethan away from Pete and hit him as hard as he could in the nose. Ethan stumbled backwards, surprised and Patrick lunged, punching every part of him he could reach.
He heard Pete yell, heard footsteps, and suddenly Andy was there, yanking him off and pushing him back. The drummer gave Patrick a stern look and pushed him towards Pete, who caught him immediately.
Pete was sobbing into Patrick’s shoulder, but the singer couldn’t comfort him just yet. He was shaking, still furious.
“If you ever,” his voice was low as he glared at the man on the floor,”and I mean ever, lay another hand on Pete Wentz again, I will personally take enjoyment in beating you senseless.”
Pete squeezed his arm gently, but Patrick ignored him, not tearing his eyes away from Ethan until Andy stepped in front of him.
“Take Patrick to the car Pete,” he said quietly, steadily meeting Pete’s gaze. “Joe and me will get the last of your stuff. Just take him outside, okay?”
Ethan’s voice called out to them as they turned to leave. “I put a lot more than just a hand on him, Stump! I’ve got the pictures to prove it too!”
Pete was numb as he took Patrick’s hand. He tugged him out the door and to the car, letting go of him as soon as they were beside the vehicle.
Patrick was calming down by now, huffing and looking at his bruised knuckles in slight shame. He shouldn’t have hit him, he really shouldn’t have, but.. Pete. He couldn’t let him hurt Pete.
Patrick squeezed his eyes shut and sniffled, not even sure why he felt like crying. He loved Pete, he was in love with Pete, and he wanted so badly to make him safe. But fighting, that was not the way to do it.
“Hey,” Pete’s voice was soft, and he nudged Patrick’s shoulder to get his attention. The singer sniffled again and looked up. Pete was grinning,”That was pretty badass, y’know, Rickster. Since when in the hell do you do MMA?”
Patrick snorted, shaking his head at his best friend. Pete laughed lightly, the tension slowly lifting.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, leaning closer to Patrick. “For.. for everything.”
Patrick shook his head, taking Pete’s hand in his own. He laced their fingers together and stared at the ground in silence, staying like that until Andy and Joe returned with the last of Pete’s stuff.
They put it all in the trunk and backseats, climbing inside as soon as it was safely put away.
“By the way,” Andy said casually as they all climbed inside of the car. “Those pictures are gone. And his phone and laptop too. Ethan really does listen to reason after a while.”
Joe laughed, Patrick shaking his head as he squeezed Pete’s shoulders. “You’re safe.”
Pete nodded, leaning against his shoulder and closing his eyes.
“Patrick?”
The singer looked up from the stove, over at Pete standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was in pajama bottoms and Patrick’s hoodie again, and seemed petulant as he walked forward.
“Do, um..” he started, sitting on a stool in front of the counter. Patrick turned, arms crossed over his chest.
“Do.. Would it be okay if I slept in your room tonight?” His words were rushed, and he kept his eyes down as he spoke.
Patrick snorted, turning back to the food he was cooking. “Pete, you’ve never asked if you could sleep with me before,” Patrick winced at the way the words sounded, but carried on. “You know I don’t care man.”
Patrick didn’t see it, but he knew Pete nodded, his eyes lighting up.
“Thanks Tricky!” he said happily, jumping off of the stool. He ran over to Patrick, kissing his cheek sloppily before running off. Patrick blushed bright red as he wiped the spit off of his cheek, trying to ignore the stirring in his stomach.
They ate together on the couch, watching some shitty movie that Pete was excited about. Patrick didn’t pay much attention; he was too lost in his own thoughts, trying to figure out how to tell Pete without seeming like an insensitive ass. After all, he had literally just moved in, away from his abusive ex-boyfriend.
Patrick chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought, jumping whenever Pete poked his side.
The bassist frowned, pausing the movie to scoot closer to Patrick.
“What’s wrong? You have your thinking face, what are you thinking about?”
Patrick smiled, shaking his head. “It’s not a big deal Pete, don’t worry about it.”
The older man frowned, leaning down to look at Patrick’s eyes directly. His face was much closer to Patrick’s now, hands on his shoulders. The singer tensed, trying to meet Pete’s stare as levelly as he could. Finally, Pete pulled away, and Patrick breathed a sigh of relief.
“Trick.. Something’s up, I know there is. Tell me eventually, at least..?” he pleaded, squeezing Patrick’s hand. The singer nodded sadly, trying to give Pete a smile. They finished the movie in silence before making their way to bed.
Pete latched on to Patrick, arms tight around his middle, face pressed into his chest. Patrick hugged him back just as tightly, marveling at the fact that they fit so perfectly together.
Pete woke Patrick up screaming. He was kicking and screaming in his sleep, thrashing about wildly. Patrick shot up before realizing what was wrong, and moved so that he was leaning over Pete.
He carefully gripped his shoulders, talking to him to get him to wake up. The screaming choked off into sobs, and Pete sat up, still half asleep as he cried.
Patrick shushed him, holding him tightly. Pete was mumbling into his shoulder, and Patrick only caught bits and pieces.
“Sorry sorry sorry sorry... Fucked up again, I didn’t mean to.. It hurts, it all hurts so much.. I’m sorry, I hate this I’m sorry.. Please don’t leave me, I love you Trick, please.. I’m scared, I’m sorry..”
With every word Patrick’s heart broke, but he kept muttering to Pete, telling him encouraging things until he calmed down. The bassist gasped into Patrick’s neck, hot breath tickling his skin.
Patrick pulled back slightly, arms still around Pete as he looked down at him. “Panda,” he breathed, voice soft. Patrick didn’t know what to say. There were a million things he could say, could tell Pete that would maybe comfort him, but it wouldn’t ever be enough.
Naturally, Pete understood. He pressed their foreheads together, letting them both calm down as much as they could. Finally, Pete was calm enough to speak.
“I’m sorry. I’m... I’m probably gonna be a mess for a while..”
Patrick shook his head, touching the tip of his nose to Pete’s. “Doesn’t matter,” he whispered, squeezing his best friend gently. “Take all the time you need. I’m not leaving, Pete.”
Patrick felt fresh tears fall, spilling onto his cheeks, but Pete nodded, breathing shakily.
“I love you Patrick,” he said softly, eyes finally falling closed. Patrick smiled sadly, leaning forward so that Pete could rest against the pillow. Crying had worn him out, and Patrick brushed the hair off of his face before crawling into bed beside him again.
“Not as much as I love you,” the singer whispered sadly, taking Pete’s hand as gently as he could.
The bassist squeezed his finger tips, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips.
“I don’t think so,” he said, voice quiet but childish. Pete wiggled until he was flush against Patrick again, nuzzling into him.
“I’m in love with you Tricky,” he said, so softly Patrick barely heard it. The younger man froze, staring at Pete in shock. He sat up, smiling apologetically at Patrick.
“I.. look. Patrick I.. I always.. Since we met, y’know? I just never.. I was always too afraid to tell you.” Pete smiled sadly, looking down at his hands. “You’re.. God, Patrick, I love you so much. And it’s okay, like.. You’re probably straight and I probably crossed a line, and I’ll respect if you n-need space or anything, if you wanna stay friends and keep boundaries and-”
“Pete.”
The bassist looked up, half fearful of rejection. However, Patrick was staring at him in awe, blue eyes wide.
“Pete,” he breathed again, shuffling forward. His hands rested on either side of Pete’s face, thumbs brushing against his cheek bones. Pete gasped, staring at him in shock.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked finally, blue eyes glancing at Pete’s before back down to his lips. The bassist nodded, moaning as he leaned forward.
Patrick’s lips were soft but firm, fingers pressing gently into Pete’s sides. The bassist’s hands snaked forward, taking fistfulls of Patrick’s long hair, making him gasp. Pete pushed his lips opened further, and Patrick melted into the kiss, gasping against Pete before finally pulling back to breathe.
Both of them were breathing a little shallower, but stupid grins covered their faces. Patrick tugged Pete back to bed, arms tightly wrapped around him again as they drifted off to sleep, Patrick’s lips in Pete’s hair. Peter Pan was safe, finally safe, and Patrick couldn’t be happier to be Wendy.
Patrick and the Really Big Spider
Request from anon ( @shrapnelofkendall ) to do Pete and Patrick as parents!
Prompt found here! : Person A and Person B are the parents to a very small child. They manage to keep their extracurricular activities still going, but the morning after one particular round, their child asks Person B if they had a nightmare, because when they have nightmares they scream from Person A too. Person B is mortified and Person A’s reaction is up to you.
Length: short
TW: nsfw, humor, food, mentions of spiders, ask to tag
Patrick blinked awake, sunlight stinging his eyes. He was a bit sore from his and Pete’s, uh, activities from the night before, but he was smiling when he finally made his way into the kitchen.
Despite it being after lunch time, Pete was cooking breakfast. His hair was still curly from their shower, and he was still in his pajamas, humming to himself while he flipped pancakes. Saint was seated at the counter, coloring while he waited for his food.
It bummed Patrick out that Elisa had Declan this summer, because Saint was going to be here most of this summer, and the boys loved each other. But, Elisa was visiting family and wanted to take their son to meet his grandparents, so he agreed, sending his well wishes along with them. Elisa, the kindhearted soul that she is, had been sending him pictures almost every day of Dec trying out new foods. The one she sent last week of his face covered in sticky stuff had instantly become his new lockscreen.
Patrick ruffled Saint’s hair as he walked over to his husband, wrapping his arms around Pete’s waist.
“Goodmorning,” he mumbled, voice muffled by Pete’s shoulder. He didn’t have to look to see the smirk on Pete’s face.
“Goodmorning to you too, snoring beauty.” He turned, carefully setting a stack of pancakes on the counter for Saint. Patrick untangled his arms, coating the pancakes with syrup before sliding them to the toddler.
Patrick turned, back against the counter, and pulled Pete in for another hug. Saint wasn’t paying them much attention, turning in his seat to look at the cartoons on the TV.
Pete smirked, trailing kisses down Patrick’s jaw. “I love you,” he whispered finally, coming up to peck Patrick on the nose. The singer blushed, ducking his head, hiding the grin that was covering his face.
“Hey Papa?” Saint’s voice asked suddenly, wide brown eyes staring at Patrick. His smile softened, and he moved over, sitting on the stool beside him.
“Good morning buddy, what’s up?”
Pete slid him a cup of coffee, winking when Patrick smiled gratefully. Saint turned toward him just as he was taking a sip, childlike voice full of concern.
“Papa, have you been having bad dreams?”
Patrick frowned, glancing at Pete in confusion before looking down at Saint.
“No, why?”
Saint gave him a puzzled look, tilting his head,”Cause when I have scary dreams I yell for daddy too.”
Patrick almost choked on his coffee, spluttering for a moment, spilling it all down his front. His entire face was beet red, and he stared at Pete, mortified. Saint was startled by his step-father’s outburst, looking between his parents in confusion.
“D-did I do somethin wrong..?”
Patrick shook his head, patting Saint’s hand. “No, no, it just, um... Y-you took me off guard there kid, I’m sorry for scaring you.”
Saint nodded, stabbing one of his pancakes with a fork. “So, if you weren’t having scary dreams, then why were you yelling?”
Patrick stared at Pete, silently begging the other man to save him. Pete was biting back giggles, clearing his throat before speaking.
“Papa wasn’t scared because of nightmares, Saint, he was scared of a spider. It ran across the floor, and I was already asleep, so he screamed to get me up so that I could get it.”
Saint nodded, still frowning. “But, I thought Papa wasn’t scared of anything?”
Patrick swallowed, breathing slowly returning to normal. “It startled me, y’know? Plus, it was a, um, a pretty big spider.” His face turned red again, and he sipped what was left of his coffee, glaring as Pete covered a laugh with a cough.
Pete handed Patrick his breakfast, smiling innocently as he sat beside him. They waited until Saint had finished his food and was in the living room before Patrick elbowed him roughly.
Pete was snickering, pressing his face into Patrick’s shoulder.
“S’not funny Pete! Oh my god, I don’t know how.. I can’t even..” Patrick shook his head, face still warm from the embarrassment.
Pete was still giggling, beaming up at him. “I just didn’t think either of us were that loud, but I guess I’ve just gotten used to it. God, I hope he meant he heard you saying my name, because if you’ve had a kink this whole time and I’ve been too preoccupied to notice...”
Patrick glared. “Peter, if you don’t shut up, I won’t be seeing any more spiders for a while,” Pete bit back a smirk, fully understanding what Patrick was implying. The singer shook his head and stood, putting his dishes in the sink, and made to stalk off to his office.
Pete’s hand caught his wrist as he tried to walk past, and pulled him into a hug, his face pressed against Patrick’s chest. “I’m sorry it embarassed you Tricky,” he mumbled, fingers drawing circles on Patrick’s back. “Kids are kids, this is gonna happen a lot. It’s okay, though, it’s life.”
The singer sighed and nodded, running his fingers through Pete’s curly hair. He hummed, tilting his head back to look up at Patrick.
“Sorry for overreacting,” he said quietly, bending down to press a kiss to Pete’s forehead. “I love you.”
“Love you too Trick. And hey,” he smirked, arms moving down to grab handfulls of Patrick’s ass,” Maybe I’ll see the spider tonight, you never know.”
The singer shook his head, laughing quietly as he made his way down the hall to his office. Pete watched him leave before getting up to join his son on the floor for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles reruns.
Burnin
title sucks im sorry
Prompt: “i made you breakfast! i know it’s cereal but its the only thing i can’t burn im sorry”
TW: food mentions, fluff, so much fluff, ask to tag
Patrick grumbled when he was stirred from his dream, Pete’s warm hand gently shaking him awake. Patrick huffed, yanking the blanket over his head, and heard Pete’s giggle.
The singer kicked at him, not hard, but enough to make Pete laugh in earnest. Patrick sat up, glaring at his boyfriend.
“If you don;t have a good reason for waking me up at ass o’clock then I’m breaking up with you.”
Pete rolled his eyes, grinning. Patrick’s hair was sticking up in every direction, cheek red from where he had fallen asleep on his arm. He looked like a very angry, murderous duckling.
“First of all, its 2pm,” this earned him another glare, so he continued,” And I made you breakfast? If that helps?”
Patrick pursed his lip, anger slipping to confusion. He rubbed his eyes with his fists, blinking at Pete sleepily.
“Alright,” he said finally, squinting at Pete,” I’ll bite. What did you break?”
Pete huffed, acting hurt. “Dear, dear Tricky, have you so little faith in me?”
Patrick raised an eyebrow, staring pointedly at Pete. The bassist rolled his eyes but smiled.
“I didn’t break anything, jackass,” Pete was suddenly nervous, playing with his fingers. They had been friends forever, of course, but only dating for just under a year. Maybe Patrick didn’t like spontaneous romantic gestures as much as Pete thought? Maybe he wasn’t as sentimental, that he didn’t really care about what today was. Maybe-
The thoughts swirling around in Pete’s head shorted out when Patrick’s hands were cradling his face. The singer was in front of him, knees pressing into the bed as he met Pete’s gaze levelly. He was awake now, blue eyes soft.
“Pete, what’s wrong baby?”
He blushed at the nickname, reaching his hands out to grab at Patrick’s shirt. The singer sat back immediately, pulling Pete onto his lap. His fingertips smoothed circles onto Pete’s back, and he hid his face under Patrick’s chin for a moment, eyes closed.
Patrick was warm, smelling like their sheets and his cologne. His hands were so gentle with Pete, pressing loving kisses to his hairline. Finally, he spoke.
“Pete? Please tell me what’s wrong?” Patrick’s voice was soft, but there was an edge to it. He was scared, Pete realized. He made Patrick worry about him.
Pete pulled back, face heating up as he looked down at Patrick’s chest bashfully. His hands moved down to rest on his chest, fingers splayed out across the blue cotton of his t-shirt. Pete felt Patrick watching him, and he took a deep breath before speaking.
“Today is the anniversary of the first day we met. That, um. That day in your basement,” Pete smiled fondly, eyes still trained on Patrick’s chest moving beneath his fingertips. “Today would make it 14 years.”
Patrick’s movements stopped, and Pete risked a glance up at his boyfriend. Patrick’s expression was soft, watery eyes staring at Pete with awe and admiration and love.
“Pete,” he breathed, grinning widely. Patrick pulled him down, kissing him tenderly. His calloused fingers were gentle, touching Pete’s face and bare back, lightly tugging at his hair to get him to pull away. Pete smiled down at him, relieved and blushing.
“You’re too wonderful, did you know that? Oh Petey.. What did I ever do to deserve you,” he breathed, smiling up at the bassist lovingly. His fingers brushed hair away from Pete’s face, thumb brushing over his lips before he pulled away. Patrick wrapped his arms around Pete and held him to him tightly.
“So, about breakfast?” Pete said quietly, listening as Patrick’s stomach grumbled. The singer laughed, pulling his arms away so that Pete could move. The bassist was off the bed quickly, helping Patrick up with a sheepish smile.
“I kind of only got cereal? I like, left super early this morning and went to the store and got your favorite kind, cause we have been out for like a week but have been too busy to get more. And it’s sitting on the counter and I have cartoons on Netflix in the livingroom, and a blanket fort, and-” Pete’s ramblings were cut off by Patrick kissing him, the singer laughing lightly as he pulled away.
“Pete, you are a major dorkwad, and I love you for it.” He wrapped his hand around Pete’s, kissing the knuckles once before letting their arms swing.
“Let’s go eat?” he smiled, tugging Pete toward the hallway.
The bassist came along quickly, making their cereal while Patrick got settled in the blanket fort Pete made. They ate quickly, setting their bowls carefully outside of the fort so that they could cuddle. Patrick wrapped his arms tightly around Pete, the bassist’s back pressing into him. Pete’s head tipped back against Patrick;s shoulder, letting him press kisses to hid chin occasionally through the marathon.
It was a warm anniversary, and the first of many. Patrick was really glad he got woken up that morning by the world’s sweetest dork.
I wrote angst and then needed fluff so this is what happened
so, taking a tiny poll here... if I was to write a ghost hunter/ghostbuster type story with pete and patrick, who would you want to be the ghost and who would you want to still be alive???