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rougepancake · 9 months

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Take care.

How they deal with you when you’re on your period (hcs)

Ft. Leonne Abbacchio and Bruno Bucciarati

WARNINGS: Fem!reader. Period cramps, mood swings. Fluffy stuff. These hcs are all over the place btw. There is no order whatsoever-

BRUNO BUCCIARATI

Don’t doubt him, he’s done his research and then some

He knows exactly what to get you when you’re cramping badly, and treats you as if you’re the most fragile thing on earth

Prepares you the BEST herbal teas and plays with your hair while you drink them

Sadly, he doesn’t cave when you beg him for whatever you’re craving, giving you stuff that he knows will tone down your cramps

He definitely gives you massages if you’re tense

I feel like he’s said something along the lines of “we’re in this together” and immediately regretted it afterwards

He makes everything about you for sure

There’s a movie you’ve been wanting to watch? He just bought it on dvd and you’re watching it tonight

You’re hungry? Tell him what you want and he’ll cook it to the best of his abilities

Need a heating pad? If you want, he’ll lay on top of you while you cuddle. If you don’t, you bet your ass he’s got a heating pad on standby

Prepares you nice warm baths and showers and enjoys being able to take care of you like this

Has the fridge stocked with various different fruits and vegetables for you, hand picked to make sure that they’re to your liking

Also has a secret stash of dark chocolate that he bought specifically for when you’re on your period

(he has to move it every month to prevent you from finding it)

Is amazing at comforting you through your mood swings. He’s a real champ for sure

Like if you snap at him, he’ll sit there and take it, because he knows you’ll cave and apologize later. He knows that it’s not your fault that your moody, so therefore he has no need to return your sudden anger

At the start of your relationship, he was definitely much more antsy whenever it came to your cramps and such, but the longer you’re together the more comfortable he gets

He has done all the research he can, and has even gone as far as to ask some of the older women he knows for pointers and such

100% rants to Abbacchio in secret

“I just don’t know what to do! She won’t even let me hold her-“ Bucciarati rambles, his hands waving around madly as he speaks. It’s uncharacteristic for him to be so worked up over something that’s so easily solved.

“Just give her some space.” Abbacchio shrugs and rolls his eyes at his friend. It makes perfect sense, really. You wouldn’t let him touch you, and you seemed moodier than you usually were. You just wanted space. Duh.

“Oh… Yeah. That might work.”

LEONE ABBACCHIO

He has done some research. Like just enough to know what’s healthy for you and what he should do

This guy has a wonderful poker face, because not once have you been able to pick up on the fact that he’s panicking inside

Listen, he loves you, and he’s seriously doing his best here, but damn-

He has to fight back the urge to argue with you for fear that he’ll only upset you further

Like he really, reallyyy wants to piss you off, but he knows better than to do that (plus Bucciarati would never let him hear the end of it-)

While he doesn’t know a whole lot about what to do, he tends to cuddle you until you sleep, or make you whatever you ask for

Sorry but he can’t cook to save his life

Expect slightly burnt food every time he hands you a plate (you love it anyways)

Like Bruno, he’s got a stash of dark chocolate for you, except it’s sitting out in the open and he eats it with you while you’re watching cringy rom coms

I wholeheartedly believe he lets you do his makeup (and vice versa)

Like if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll walk in with his makeup kit and let you go crazy with it

Typically leaves it on until you fall asleep

Whenever he does your makeup, he’s very careful to not upset or hurt you. It’s one of the few times you get to see him so gentle

Has water bottles and heating pads within reach at all times just in case your cramps get worse. He also carries a bottle of Midol in his pocket for extra caution

Refuses to tell you that, however

Had the mindset of “not my womb, not my problem” until he started dating you

The first time you brought it up he died inside. You were suffering and there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. It sucked

Because he has done very basic research, he has no idea what to feed you other than your cravings

I mean yeah he looked up what to give you, but forgot within an hour once he saw how much pain you were actually in

Strictly refuses to ask questions about it and does not want help from anyone.

He gets incredibly flustered when he has to go out and get you pads/tampons. His brain always seems to short circuit on him while he’s in the isle. “What size does she prefer?” “Does she bleed heavily or not?? Fuck I can’t remember-!”

Snaps at anyone who looks at him funny when he buys them

Let’s you do his hair for sure, but WILL NOT go out in public with whatever hairstyle you give him

Braids? Cute, but not in front of Bucciarati

Ponytail? Actually he’s kind of digging it, but he knows he’ll never hear the end of it from the others, so no

Pigtails? You sounded excited about them, but he’d literally rather die than have anyone seen him with his hair like that ❤️

“Can I do your hair?” You ask softly, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. “I think you’d look good with Dutch braids, and I’d like to try it out on you.”

“Fine.” He grabs the hair brush and sits with his back towards you, allowing you full access to his hair. “Just don’t rip it out or whatever.”

“Thanks Leone.” You smile and begin parting his hair. “You’re gonna look amazing when I’m done.”

“I’d better.”

#fuck the menstrual cycle ❤️#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba x reader #x reader #jjba #jjba vento auero #jjba golden wind #bruno bucciarati #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno x reader #jjba bruno #jojos bizzare adventure x reader #jjba abbacchio #leone abbacchio #leone abbachio x reader #leone abbacchio x reader #jjba imagines #jjba fluff

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nattinatalia · 9 months

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Urban request: “of course, I always choose you.”

You had woken up with the cramps of hell, which only meant one thing, your period- thank you Mother Nature, for not being pregnant, but my period? Really?? You thought to yourself as you showered.

You were moody, emotional, hungry, basically everything in the girls book. To top it off, your boyfriend has been out all day with your brothers and ignoring all of your texts.

It was finally night time and although you were hungry, you couldn’t decide on what to eat so you decided not to eat at all.

You were laying on the couch in the living room, catching up on Snowfall when your front door was being opened.

“Hi baby.”

You’re definitely surprised to see him in front of you since you literally just saw the Instagram story of your brother playing DJ, so you figured your boyfriend was somewhere near him.

“W-what are you doing here?” You sit up, pushing off the blanket off your legs.

He smiles, and you take notice of the bags he has in his hands. “Well, I know I was out all day. Blame your brother.”

You raise your eyebrows but let him continue talking. “I know you got your period, so I brought all your favorite snacks.”

He hands you the target bag and you indeed see all your favorite snacks, from hot fries, ferrero rocher chocolate, jolly ranchers, sour gummies, Arizona strawberry kiwi flavor, and Dr Pepper. “Babe, you have me stocked up for the weekend.”

He nods “And I know you wouldn’t be able to settle on what to eat, so I brought you options.”

You gasp, “Urb, what did you do?”

He shrugs “What you always crave when you’re on your period. Sushi, Panda and carne asada fríes.”

“You’re the best.” You reach for the bag as he sits next to you.

“Ohh, I’m forgetting the best one.”

“Huh? Babe, you already got me with all my favorites.” You say confused but notice the smirk on his face “What did you get?”

“You’ve been on the lookout for a while now.”

“PLEASE DON’T TELL ME IT'S WHAT I THINK IT IS.”

He shrugs, “fine I won’t.”

You jump on his lap, “Show me.”

“No, you said not to tell you.”

You start tickling his sides and pinch his nipples “Baby, tell me.”

He laughs, “okay, okay.”

You straddle his lap, sitting up straight as he places the bag between you both on his chest, his hands going to your hips. “I got two, one for you and one for me. They were the last ones too.”

You quickly open the bag and gasp out in surprise. “Baby, oh my god.”

He squeezes your hips, “So do you like?”

You nod “I love them, but not more than I love you. Thank you baby.” You give him a quick kiss.

“I can’t believe you found them, I go literally everyday and I come up short.” You admire the Halloween Hello Kitty blankets that you’ve been on a hunt ever since they’ve been taking over your timeline on tiktok.

“I know, Jack was saying how you dragged him yesterday and he was annoyed.”

You roll your eyes. “He doesn’t like shopping with me, that’s why.” In that moment your phone pings with a text notification and it’s none other than your brothers.

Demon 1 : I can’t believe my best friend ditched the club for you 🙄

Demon 2 : Urban??? Urban chose our annoying sister over partying? Is the world ending?

You chuckle and show Urban, “I’m also surprised to be honest.” You tug at the ends of his hair playfully. “You chose me over partying with my brother?.”

He raises his eyebrows, “Of course, I always choose you.”

“We can’t have sex, but I can give you head.” You smirk teasingly. “A thanks for being the best.”

He chuckles, “Y/N, your ass will bite my dick off if I don’t feed you right now.”

“Oh you’ll be feeding me alright.”

He rolls his eyes “Actual food.”

In that moment your front door is being slammed opened and you see your brothers walking in.

“Hi fuckers” Jack waves, smirking. “Y/N, get off of him, we’re having a sibling date night.”

Clay shuts the door “He dragged me here.”

“You could’ve dragged him back.” You glare “You two idiots are crashing my night with my man.”

Jack lays on the couch next to you, and grabs the hello kitty blanket “He was mine first.”

Urban groans “Don’t start bro.”

You glare, and snatch the blanket from him “I’m not sharing this with you.”

Clay starts digging through the bags Urban brought. “I’m not sharing my food with any of you, well only with Urb, so order your own.”

“So does that mean no head?” Urban whispers.

You glare at him, “Don’t play with me, that dick is going inside my mouth one way or another, brothers present or not.”

“EWWWWW GROSS.”

“WHAT THE FUCK Y/N? CLAY LET'S LEAVE.”

You smirk, “That’s what I thought.”

#harlowcomehome #urban wyatt #urban wyatt concepts #harlow sister #jack harlow #urban wyatt x yn #urban wyatt x you #urban wyatt x y/n #urban wyatt x reader

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lemonlover1110 · 1 year

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Baby Steps

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 13] Labels

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Happy to co-host Gojo NSFW Week 2023! Come join us on Twitter!

Satoru makes a list of everything that is needed at home, making sure to not miss a single item. Missing even the most insignificant item can cause you to burst into tears because out of all other things, that specific item was what you were craving. It always ends up with Satoru going back to the store, of course, a bit annoyed. But there isn’t a single thing he wouldn’t do.

“Is there anything else you need?” Satoru questions, staring at the almost-finished list. You end up shaking your head, and he raises his brow before asking, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” You nod in response as you walk to the fridge to look at what you can feast on. Lately you’ve been having this issue where you’re hungry and all the food in the kitchen is just not appetizing enough for you to eat. It always leads you to say how “there’s nothing to eat” and Satoru can’t help but get annoyed because he knows there’s a lot of food to eat. But he’ll try to accommodate your needs and make something that he knows you’ll like.

“Alright, just call me if you need anything from the store.” Satoru tells you, and you hum in response. Satoru folds the piece of paper and shoves it into his pocket before standing up and grabbing his car keys. “I’ll be back soon, honey.”

Your heart melts at the cute pet names that he’s picked out for you. You haven’t made things official yet, but at this point you doubt it’s necessary. You’re living together and you’re expecting a baby, a label is the last thing you’re worried about.

Even if you were to bring it up, Satoru doesn’t want to put a label on it. It’s the last thing on his mind, and he wouldn’t like the idea of putting a label on it, unlike you. You’re carrying his child, that’s that. It seems like that’s all it’ll be. But he likes calling you honey. He likes kissing you, cuddling with you, sleeping next to you. And it’s not just because you’re carrying his child.

Regardless, he doesn’t want to put a label on it. A label is certainly the last thing he thinks about while searching and picking out the groceries you need. He has to make sure every product is healthy and good for you. He has to make sure it’s the right brand. He has to make sure he gets you the best of the best from the store.

Satoru is so focused on getting groceries that he almost misses someone that walks by. But nothing goes unseen by Satoru. Yet when he turns, there’s no one there. He’s almost a hundred percent sure that an old friend walked by.

He doesn’t put the effort into walking around the store to find them. Instead he focuses on finding the groceries that aren’t crossed out on the list. He still has so much to pick out and he’s impatient to go back home. The store is full, and he can’t stand being around so many people at once.

Satoru picks out what he needs and walks out of the store, hands and arms filled with groceries. He has so much, yet he knows that there’s something missing because you always forget about something that’s crucial to your cravings. He walks to his car, and his heart drops when he makes out the person that leans on his car. The same person he thought of earlier.

Satoru sighs as he walks up to the car, and up to the person he was thinking about earlier. He opens the trunk, ignoring Suguru as he puts everything in the trunk. Suguru clears his throat, trying to catch Satoru’s attention, but Satoru is unbothered. They have nothing to talk about anymore– Although they do, neither of them want to talk about it though.

“Stocking up on diapers?” Suguru asks, making Satoru’s blood run cold. He completely freezes, wondering how the hell Suguru got hold of that information. “There’s a rumor in Jujutsu society, and you know, everything comes back to me. Based on your reaction, it’s true.”

“No, I was just confused. Why the hell would I be stocking up on diapers?” Satoru tries to play off, hiding the bags that contain items for his baby; stuff that he just couldn’t resist buying. He slams the trunk shut and begins to walk to the driver’s side. “I’m supposed to execute you, so be warned. Don’t come around.”

Suguru says your name, and Satoru freezes again. How the hell is Suguru finding out about this? Satoru has done everything in his willpower to make sure that Jujutsu society doesn’t find out about you, but somehow the word is getting out. Obviously Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t to blame. “I saw her. She’s pretty.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Satoru responds, getting into the car. He rolls down the window and says, “Now, if you’ll take my advice. Next time I won’t be so nice and just let you walk off. You’re a murderer.”

“Like we’re really any different.” Suguru chuckles. “Is she a sorcerer? I doubt she is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Satoru says before he rolls up the window. Suguru wickedly smiles as Satoru begins to back out of the parking spot. Of course, Suguru knows, but Satoru wonders just how much Suguru knows.

Satoru is agitated, but he knows as much as to not drive straight home. Instead he drives to Daisuke’s place, scared that Suguru or someone else might follow him home. He has to ensure that you’re safe above anything else.

At around eight in the night is when Satoru comes back. You worriedly sit on the couch, wondering why Satoru hasn’t been back yet. When he finally walks into the place, he doesn’t look too ecstatic either. You aren’t too sure on how to initially approach him.

“Was the place packed?” You question as he puts the majority of the groceries on the kitchen counter. It’s been hours since he left, so of course that’s the only thought you have. All other horrible thoughts disappear since he’s alive and looks fine in front of you. He doesn’t answer though.

It takes a moment for him to finally come up with a response. “I have to go back. They didn’t have any milk, and I couldn’t find any chocolate ice cream.”

The milk that he had bought was spoiled after spending so much time in the trunk, and the ice cream melted. He really isn’t in the mood to go back to the grocery store now of all times. Truthfully, he’s worried.

“It’s fine.” You end up responding which lifts so much weight from his shoulders. He begins to put away the groceries, but you end up patting the space beside you on the couch, telling him, “Come sit with me for a bit.”

“Let me put these away first.” He says, and you pat the space beside you again, this time much harder.

“C’mon. I’ve been alone all day. I can put those away later.” You reply, and he comes to a stop, sighing. He takes off his shades, putting them on the kitchen counter with the groceries before walking over to you. His mind goes a thousand miles per hour, thinking of what to do. Not about sitting next to you, but more about the encounter he faced earlier.

Someone has clearly been informing Suguru about everything. But he wonders who. Nobody knows about your pregnancy apart from your friends, and they clearly don’t know who Suguru is. At least that’s what he hopes.

Satoru walks over to you and takes a seat. Usually he lays his head on your lap and you run your fingers through his hair. You two act too much like a couple but he’ll refuse to admit that you are one. Especially now then ever. But tonight he doesn’t do what he usually does, which leads you to question,

“What happened?” You sense something is up. He’s extremely late from the grocery store and he isn’t acting like his usual self. He’d talk a while of what he saw in the grocery store. It usually annoys you while you try to watch something. He ends up shaking his head at the question, making your hand go on top of his. “Is it about the ice cream? I’ll be fine without it.”

He feels his heart flutter. He bites his bottom lip, thinking of what to say or do. Worst comes to worst, he’ll kill Suguru. He won’t hesitate. But still, killing Suguru won’t finish the job. God knows how many people Suguru has told and how many would take action.

“Is there something wrong, Satoru?” You question, realizing he’s lost in the clouds. You wonder what runs through his mind. He was perfectly fine in the morning.

“I’ve been hiding something from you.” He begins, and your face goes from a worried to a curious expression. You patiently wait for what he has to say, and you expect maybe a lot of things except for what he actually says. Because he made sure to make clear and convince you otherwise, “I’m seeing someone.”

“What?” You blink slowly. Your brain slowly processes what he said. You feel the tears well up in your eyes. “Huh? Are you messing with me?”

“I’m sorry… But I’m seeing Leiko.” He tells you, and you feel your heart shatter into pieces. You turn your face so he doesn’t see the tears that you can’t stop from streaming down your face. “It just sort of… Happened. I’m sorry.”

“Satoru, I thought we were–” You have to stop yourself from talking. Your voice is breaking and you don’t like the idea of letting him know that you’re crying. Lately you’re an emotional mess, he knows more than anyone. “I hope you two are happy.”

You stand up and begin to walk away, not wanting to let him see you cry. His heart burns, knowing that you’re hurting, but he doesn’t say anything. Pushing you away is what’s best right now, while he figures out what to do.

“I guess you’ll be moving out soon. Doubt that Leiko wants her boyfriend to be living with some other woman.” You say, which gives him that great idea. He has to move out. It was the last thing he was thinking about in the morning, but there’s a sudden change of plans.

“You’re right.” He responds. “I’ll be packing my stuff and moving out soon.”

🏷 @witchofoe @cactustattoo @kageyamaslittleroyal20 @mykyoon @sunjayist @fonkymonkeyfriday @lilith412426 @luvs-wrld @witchymermaid12 @fi106 @distractionforyourthoughts @dearsunaa @tamak00 @watyousayin @leiriswhore @q-the-rockaholic @shuxjodie @syynnaaah @kleeboomed @shrekmwa @bakugobiddies @blueeskies17

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fanfic #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo saturo

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gayerthanevertbh · 1 year

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motion sickness | i want you pt. 7

natasha romanoff masterlist | series masterlist | navigation

pairings: older!natasha romanoff x young!fem reader

summary: your father doesn’t know it yet, but you’re in love with his best friend. and what makes it better is that you’re sure enough that she feels the same way. the sad part is, neither of you can word out your love for each other properly.

warnings: heavy angst, thoughts of abortion (if this is a sensitive topic for you, you may not read this chapter), distant reader, fighting, slightly infuriated natasha (she’s lowkey an ass here), and so much more - MINORS DNI.

notes: i pray for your mental breakdown everyone so really good luck x

I woke up on the bathroom floor and noticed that the sun was shining through the window. However, it may not have been a beautiful morning for me since I had just learned last night that I was expecting Natasha's child. I rubbed my eyes with my knuckles and went downstairs when I noticed Maisy picking oranges from the tree. I looked around, but my father was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he went fishing with Natasha or went to the market to stock up on blueberries, which are one of his favorite late-night snacks. I sighed quietly to myself and went to the garden to find something to do, I wanted to stop thinking about this fetus inside of me. I had to, just for today.

"I made you eggs and toast," Maisy said as my thoughts about the baby faded. She smiled as she pointed to the small table. "I heard from Ms. Romanoff that you've been feeling ill, so she made me cook you some food before going to the market with your father."

I wasn’t hungry, especially when there was a child inside my stomach.

"Oh," my body deflated, and all I could do was nibble on my lower lip. “I think I’ll just eat later, it’s still pretty early anyway.”

“Do you want me to take care of you for today, Y/n?”

“That wouldn’t be necessary, but thanks for the offer Maisy.”

I returned to the house and entered my room, locking the door in case Natasha dropped by to see how I was doing. She makes me feel sick inside, so I don't want to look at her or even think about her right now. Was this baby going to make me hate her? I feel like I'm losing myself with each hour that passes. I couldn't help but experience this kind of love that felt so foreign to me—I don't even believe I should feel this way—when I looked down at my stomach. I could feel my eyes brimming with tears, what have I done to myself? I wondered crudely. I should’ve been more responsible, I shouldn’t have been so careless.

But the baby’s here now, and there was nothing I could do about it.

A couple of hours later, I was researching having an abortion alone in my room. Since abortion was legal in Italy, I wrote a few phone numbers down to contact a hospital about whether I decided to keep this baby or not. I could feel my stomach growling, and I knew I had to eat.

So I went downstairs to get some food and I saw Natasha sitting by the couch. She looked at me with those twinkling green eyes, as if excited to see me, and brought me a warm hug. I didn’t need this kind of affection from her, especially when she doesn’t have an idea that I’m carrying her child. And the more that she hugged me, the more I felt guilty inside. I softly pushed her chest away and gave her a tight lip grin.

Cupping my cheeks, she whispered: “You doing okay? Maisy told me you didn’t come to eat your food, I had to give it to Antonio instead since you hate cold food.”

I muttered, "Oh yeah," and peered at my feet. “I’m not that hungry, anyway.” Forget about the famished sensation I had; I needed to leave myself. I didn’t want to be touched by her or even kissed by her, I needed to be away from her. Natasha looks into my eyes with a worried expression and gently strokes the side of my hair, tucking some strands behind my ear. Though, I took a step back away from her and grabbed my hat from the chair; she looked stunned by my action.

“W-Where are you going?” she stuttered. “It’s only noon, I don’t think you should be going out by now.”

“I have to go to MJ,” although that wasn’t technically a lie, I still needed to get away from her. I didn’t want her to touch me or even love me in that kind of way, it still makes me feel sick – as if I wanted to vomit. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Baby,” she whispers under her breath in case anyone heard her call me by that pet's name. She palmed my upper arm with affection and sighed. “Stay here with me, we can go by the lake and I’ll watch you read. Or we could get ice cream and–”

“I’m really not in the mood, Natasha.”

She had a hurt look on her face, and I despised the way I was acting in her presence. I wouldn't feel as bad if she only knew what was happening. But I need to get this child out of me before she finds out because I'll ruin everyone's lives, including mine. I knew I was being selfish because I didn't want our relationship to become complicated. So I smiled at her for one last time before leaving the house and riding my bicycle. She stood by the doorframe and gave me a puzzled, worried-looking look, somehow hoping that I’d change my mind.

“Y/n, please just stay with me.”

“I really have to go, Nat.”

“But–”

I drove my bike away and let out a tear from my eye. I knew that I was hurting her, but I can’t let her know about the situation I was in. I need to get away from her, she mustn't know about this child inside of me. She’ll hurt, she wouldn’t want to do anything with me. She won’t need this baby with me, she’ll leave me if she finds out.

I arrived at MJ’s house and went inside by her maid, greeting her parents with a weary smile on her face. MJ was sitting on the couch, playing a video game with a controller in her hand. “I never thought you’d visit me,” she chuckled, turning her shoulder as she gave me a smile – a way to say hello to me. “Come sit, but we won’t be drinking since I’m taking a little break from it.”

I chewed the left inside of my cheek and played with the edge of my shirt, giving her the look of help. She got the clue and stood up, turning off the TV.

“Can we go upstairs, please?" I inquired while glancing left and right as if I were hiding something—which is almost true. MJ nodded and led me to her room, closing the door behind her as I sat at the foot of her bed, my knees raised. She took one cigarette and lit it for herself, smoking through the window with a worried expression on her face. I didn’t need any of that right now, not when I feel so guilty to the point I’m planning a getaway party.

“You look like shit,” she said with furrowed eyebrows. “Did something happen at home? Did Bucky bother you again–”

“I’m pregnant.”

After that, there wasn't much silence, and she appeared much more worried than she had earlier.

“With Bucky’s baby?”

Of course, she would think that. She doesn't know about my illicit relationship with my father's best friend, so I was prepared to say something; MJ was good at keeping secrets, especially in situations like this. But that was just me musing over a hypothetical idea.

I shook my head, my lips trembling with fear. “No,” I whispered under my breath as I looked her in the eye with brimming tears. “I-It’s not his.”

“Then who fucked you?” she asked, her voice much louder this time.

“If I tell you, you would find me disgusting.”

“Unless you’re secretly seeing a guy without telling us, there’s nothing disgusting about that.”

I sighed, preparing myself for the worst.

“It’s Natasha’s kid.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she lets out a breathy chuckle and drags the cigarette away from her mouth. “That wouldn’t be right, isn’t she your–”

“Godmother, yeah she’s technically my godmother.”

MJ shakes her head, throwing her hands in the air. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Y/n? She could’ve taken advantage of you!”

“But I willingly gave my love to her!”

“Wait, love?” she throws her cigarette out of her window and sits down beside me. “Are you telling me that you’re both in love with each other?”

In any case, nothing about our relationship was hidden. Someone will eventually know or figure it all out. Our tension was palpable, especially in the way we touched - even if it was a simple gesture. I gave her one last look before nodding silently and looking up at the sky. I could hear her distress, but I felt her arms wrapped around mine. I suddenly felt safe. As I previously stated, I always felt safe in her presence.

“Does she know about the baby?”

I shook my head, muffling a sob before I felt her lips brush against my hair. Nothing about this makes me happy. In fact, it makes me feel even more guilty as I tell her more unfolding stories about which she was previously unaware. I buried my face into her neck, my hands gripping her shirt tightly. I was a coward, as I always have been and will continue to be.

“What do you want to do now?” she asked quietly as she stroked my cheek, wiping my tears away with her thumb. “Tell me so that there’s something I could do.”

“I-I just want this baby out of me,” I whimpered. “I-I don’t want it in my life, I can’t have this child right now. Dad will be fucking angry if he finds out that I’m in love with his friend. I just need this out–please, help me… I don’t know what to do! H-He’ll hurt Natasha if he knows about this, including myself. I-I won’t get to see both of my parents if he knew–”

“Calm down Y/n, take a deep breath,” she cups both of my cheeks as we breathed together, helping me ease myself. It did work for a bit. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here, you don’t have to be scared.”

You don’t have to be scared, little Y/n. You’re still a child.

“I’m scared, I’m so scared…”

“I know a friend who can help us both,” she mentioned quietly as she continued to kiss my forehead in the most platonic way. “Her name is Wanda, and she can help you with this. We’ll figure this out, okay? Natasha doesn’t even have to know about this, I promise.”

I cried into her arms, holding her as if she was my life support. I don’t know whether I should feel ecstatic or scared about this, but I knew that I was safe in her hands. As I mourned, I felt like safety was brought to me like a gift. She doesn’t have to know, I chanted in my head. She doesn’t have to know, she doesn’t have to know, she doesn’t have to know.

We sat there for nearly an hour, and I told her about our relationship. She was angry at Natasha for falling in love with me because our age difference was so large. But as I explained everything to her, MJ's rage began to fade. "Are you really in love with her?" she asked. “Isn't this some kind of adolescent crush for you?"

After giving her some thought, I saw that it was not even about teenage love. I adored every aspect of her, and I would sacrifice my life for her. It appears as though I am preoccupied with the concept of love and am unaware of its true significance. But I understand what love means when it comes to Natasha.

“I’ve never felt so perfect in my life when she’s near me,” I told her. “She’s my safety net. She’s my hunger and my thirst, I need to be with her every single moment of my life. And if I tell her about this baby, she won’t love me anymore.”

“But maybe if you do tell her, she won’t be upset?”

“She would fucking leave me if she finds out–”

“What if she wants this baby with you?” MJ asked. “What if she’s been wanting this to happen? Don’t you think it’s a little selfish to be keeping this away from her?”

“She doesn’t have a choice here, I’m the one who’s carrying her child. Whether she likes it or not, I’m removing this baby out of me.”

“I understand,” she whispered as she continued to rub my back, calming my nerves down. “We’ll figure something out, I promise.”

I returned home at night, and everyone was asleep as I had anticipated. When I entered my room, Natasha was curled up on my bed, tightly encircling my pillow. Since I didn't feel too comfortable having her around, I wanted to ask her to leave, but all I could do was sit and admire her lovely face. I find it hard to accept that I'm silently harming her and that everything was my fault. I wouldn't be such a scared little girl if I had been more cautious. Instead, I was. I was afraid of losing her, and I was selfish enough not to tell her. I kissed her forehead as I leaned down, earning a groggy moan from her.

“You’re here,” she whispered, fluttering her eyes open to look at me. “You’ve been gone all day, w-what happened? Are you okay–”

“I’m okay,” I whispered back, obviously lying to her face. Natasha smiled tiredly at me and pulled me into bed, her arm encircling my waist as I felt her kissing the back of my head. “Nat, we shouldn’t–”

“I know you’re not okay.”

I nodded, licking my bottom lip with terror.

“Y-Yeah, I haven’t been.”

“Is there something wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

No, it was never your fault in the first place.

I silently shook my head, trying to let the dread wash over me, but it didn't seem to work. She tilts her head up a little and looks down at me; a light bulb-like sadness flashed across her face. I gently squeezed her hand as it touched my waist. Although I know she did her best to assist me, I was so overcome with guilt that I was having trouble breathing.

“Baby, please answer me…”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Natasha.”

“Then why are you calling out my name like that if I haven’t done something wrong?”

Because I’m having your baby and I don’t want it.

“I’m just tired, okay?" I looked away from her and clenched my heart with sadness as I fixed my gaze on the wall. She only sighs and stands up from the bed, removing her arms from around me. When I turned around, she was standing by the door, walking out without saying anything. I immediately realized that I had screwed up. I messed everything up. Sooner or later, she’ll leave and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Especially if she finds out about this kid I’m not going to have.

The same issue persisted a few days later. I continued to keep my distance from her, and as a result, I was at MJ's house hanging out with her until Natasha left for the day. Today, however, is different because MJ wasn't home and I was still upset with Bucky, so I couldn't go see him. I considered going to see Felicia, but it seemed like she was also away. I felt genuine loneliness, and I knew I was causing it by refusing to ask my father for assistance, as a good girl should.

I sat by the garden bench, reading my book until I didn’t notice that Natasha came back with a furious look on her face. I took off my sunglasses and looked at her – I knew she couldn’t take this anymore.

“You’ve been ignoring me lately and I hate it,” she stated breathlessly as if she ran a mile. “I hate whatever you’re doing to me, Y/n. You’re hurting me.”

I felt my lips trembling and tried to turn my gaze away from her, but it didn't work. I've never seen her so enraged, and it truly hurts me on the inside. I needed to tell her, but nothing came out of my mouth. It's like a circus, I keep making her go round and round until she tires - and she appears to be tired of me.

“I-I’m sorry–”

"You can't keep doing this to me!" she screams as she rubs the back of her neck. Clearly, I could tell she was in pain. I stood up and tried to walk away from her, but she was following from behind. “Talk to me, Y/n! What’s going on? Turn around and look at me!”

“If I do that, I will hurt you.”

“Can’t you see what you’re doing to me? You’re making me fucking crazy here,” I felt her hand grab my wrist as she turned me around, her nose flaring with despair and a mix of anger. I looked down at my feet, but I was forced to look at her with a tight grip on my wrist. “Ever since you had your period, you were becoming distant. Is this how you show me that you no longer love me anymore?”

“I think it’s better if we talk this far away from here, Nat–”

“They’re gone, it’s just the two of us here,” we both stared right at each other, and I felt my heart beating fast. I wanted to touch her face and tell her it was all my fault, but I was so scared to do so. I looked away from her eyes but felt her hand on my cheek as she turned my gaze back to her. I watched her eyes turn darker green, and her breathing was starting to tremble just as much as mine.

“You have to tell me what’s going on or I won’t talk to you for a while.”

“Good, maybe we should keep it that way then.” I tried to walk away, but her hand tightened on my wrist, and I winced in pain. “Let me go!”

“No, not until you fucking tell me what I have done so I can solve this.”

“There’s nothing to solve here!” I tried my hardest to break free of her, but I was too frail. I didn't want to hurt the baby I was carrying, so I remained where I was. "If you want to break up with me, that's fine," I whimpered. “But just let me go.”

“Just like that, huh? You want to break up with me like that? We aren’t kids anymore, Y/n. We’re fucking adults.”

I firmly bit my lower lip, almost as if I were drawing blood on it, and remarked, "Except that maybe I'm the kid here.” she looks at me with bewildered eyes, and I looked away from them. “Please, just let me go.”

She shakes her head as she tries to cup my face, but I slap her hands away. “You’re hurting me!”

“I can’t tell you, it’ll ruin everything…”

She cries out, "Just talk to me; I need to know if you're okay so that I can go to sleep.”

“Natasha, just stay away–”

“I’m not going anywhere, Y/n! I’ll stay until you’ve hurt me enough, I won’t walk away like you are doing right now. So fucking tell me and I’ll–”

“I’m pregnant with your fucking child!”

I’d never felt so much silence in my life until this happened. I covered my mouth as I felt my hand shaking in fear, and she looked at me with those wide eyes that I’d never seen before. I don’t know whether she was angry or not, but I couldn’t bear any of it. I was the evil person here, I let this happen between us. And I was prepared for the outcome of this situation, but her looking at me like that was something that I wasn’t prepared for.

“I’m having your kid,” I murmured, wiping the tears in my eyes with the back of my hand. “A-And I don’t know how to solve this.”

Therefore, hurt me with your venomous words right away so that I bleed to death. You and I both understand that I earned every last bit of it by keeping it hidden from you, but I was at my breaking point with this pain between us. I knew that you had to know, and for that, I felt selfless for once.

Natasha gazed at my stomach, then back to me. I don’t know whether she was thrilled by this or not, since I couldn’t tell from her face, but I knew I had to break up with her at this moment. Before I could utter a word, I hear her whisper: “You’re pregnant?”

I nodded, my mouth trembling with agony. “I am, and it’s your baby.”

“I-I thought we used protection–”

“We didn’t.”

She looked away from me for a full minute as she used her thumb and index finger to rub her forehead. She turned around with a loud sigh coming out of her mouth and asked, “Were you on contraceptives?”

I shook my head in defeat.

“No, I wasn’t. And I’m sorry that–”

“It’s not your fault,” she walks towards me and touches my stomach with her hand feverishly, her eyes fluttering close. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“B-But–”

I was shocked when she kneeled on the ground with her hands holding on the back of my lower waist, bringing her lips closer to my covered stomach. She softly kisses it and looks up at me with those blissful eyes that I’ve seen before. I closed my mouth tight and let her kiss my stomach until I stopped crying in pain.

"We're having a baby together," she whispered with joy as she brought herself up and kissed my dry lips, pulling me closer to her body. Since I hadn't anticipated this response from her, my throat tightened, and for once it felt good. “We’re having a child together, sweetheart.”

“You need to listen to me, Tash,” I brought our faces together and kissed her lips for one last time before I could even say it – because I knew it would crush her. “Listen to me, okay?”

“Is it because your father will find out?” she asked, shaking her head. “Kotenok, he doesn’t have to know about this.”

“It’s not even about that.”

Who could’ve thought that the bliss will be over once I will tell her my real plan for this child in me? Not even god himself could answer that.

“Tasha, I’m aborting this baby.”

She removes her hands away from my body as she looks at me in the eyes sorrowfully. I didn’t know how else to tell her the news, but I knew that I was going to hurt her with this information and I’d prepared myself for the worse. She takes a step back and shakes her head, as if not believing what I’ve said.

“First, you tell me that we’re having this baby together, and now you’re telling me you want to get rid of it?”

“The word rid sounds dirty, Natasha.”

“Because it is!” she exclaims quietly and looks around. I could feel myself crying again, I hated seeing this version of her. “Y-You didn’t even consult me at first! Do you not want this child together?”

It's not that I've ever wanted to have kids with her. I knew I wasn't prepared for this kind of position at this point in my life, despite the fact that it sounded like heaven to me. I took a deep breath in and licked my lips before slowly nodding.

She chuckled with pure anger.

“You’re so selfish.”

“Natasha.”

“You’re so fucking selfish right now, you know that right?” she scoffs and puts one hand on her waist. “You didn’t fucking talk about this with me, what gives you the right to take away our baby?!”

“Because it’s my body, Natasha!" I shouted as I moved closer to her until our noses were in contact. "I have school and a future, and I need to do them first before I have this child," I exclaimed. “I know it hurts, believe me, it hurts for me too, but I can’t…”

“You can’t what?” she sounded too frail and worn out, and I couldn't help but cry.

You’re just scared.

“I can’t ruin my future plans.”

I fell to my knees as I watched Natasha walk away from me. How could something so exquisite and lovely be thrown away because of me? Although I was aware that I was being selfish, I also understood that, despite my best efforts, I was unable to care for our infant. I get a sharp pain in my chest that gets worse as she walks away. Even though I desperately wanted her to turn around and assure me that everything would be alright, I knew it wouldn't.

Does my story end here now?

taglist: @trans-wolf-boi @generousfartdragon @marvelogic @that-one-gay-mosquito @wandanotsosure @madelineleong @kksalexa @karsonromanoff @natashaswife4125 @florojas @natashaxwife @lovsalvatore @what-is-your-wish @natsxwife

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha angst #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x you #black widow x reader #I Want You Series

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fairy-verse · 4 months

Note

I’m curious, how does Dust survive in the winter? Being a summer fairy after all. I’m sure he wears a lot of layers but what about his wings? I think his wings would freeze up if he just had them out in the cold right? If so, does he have something special to cover them, or does he manage to hide them under his clothes, meaning he wouldn’t be able to fly then?

During winter Dust will fold up his wings as best as possible and hide them beneath a wool cloak made for him by Horror. It’s warm and comfy and it ensures his wings don’t freeze and shatter. Besides that, he will wear a thick layer of woollen clothes and winter boots. He’s drowsy and tends to grow dizzy with the way he forces himself to stay awake, but he manages well enough since Horror is good at keeping their food stock full, so they’ll never go hungry, and since Horror needs to sleep now and then he’ll gently guide Dust to cuddle with him beneath the furs and wool within their nest. Sometimes he’s successful in not waking Dust up in the morning, meaning Dust can sleep for the whole day, or sometimes the next two or three. He’s always quite upset about that, but Horror reassures him that he feels happy when he sees Dust nestled comfortably and warm in his sleep, and that he chirps so sweetly when Horror kisses his brow.

It never fails at making Dust blush, though he’ll try and hide it after he’s stood on his tippy toes to give Horror a quick kiss.

Thanks to Horror, he survives winter just fine, albeit in a very sleepy state.

#aufairyverse #utmv #ask for the fairy #fairy!horror #fairy!dust #horror sans #dust sans

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tinkerbelle05 · 10 months

Note

Pavitr x reader

Readers having her period

Now let me take care of you, okay.

Characters: Pavitr x Fem!reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: (Requested) Thanks for the reqs 🧡

Warnings: Period, Period Symptoms: cramps, bloating, vomiting, nausea.

Sundari = beauty

At first, Pavitr was kinda clueless about the whole thing. And you being parts embarrassed and parts prideful, you never let him in to see that side of you. So the most you’ll do is send him to the store and have him pick up some pads or tampons if you really need it. But he always has raspberry and black tea stocked and ready for when your period comes and you are craving it. He was really considerate like that.

And he always offered to do more for you even though he knew you’d say no. Like he’d offer to message your shoulders and lower back. To cook your meals and clean your house for you. It warmed your heart that he’d do all of that for you but you didn't need his help.

You were fine with planning. You cleaned your house the week before and you meal prepped things you know you can eat. You got any important work done and made sure no social plans happened during your period. You’ve been doing it this way for year and you were a pro at it.

That’s what you kept telling yourself as you laid on the ground, withering in pain. That you didn't need anyone’s help.

The cramps were getting too much and you couldn't keep down the pain meds either. And of course your heating pad had gone and disappeared on you as well.

Tears of frustration and pain swelled up in your eyes while you descend into further despair. Your phone was so tempting right now. It’d be so, so easy to grab it and dial Pavi’s number. But it'd be so hard to accept the help that’d come with it.

You couldn't explain the reason but being self-reliant is something so ingrained into who you are as a person. Maybe it's because you’ve been disappointed more times than you can count on your hand? Or maybe it's because you are naturally distrustful of strangers?

But Pavitr isn't a stranger.

He's the love of your life. He trusts you with his whole entire being and he showed you time and time again that a he's reliable person. Maybe you should call him. Despite your pounding heart and shaky hands you do so.

“Hey Sundari, how are you?” he greeted you, sounding cheerful.

“Hi Pavi, honestly I’m not doing too well. Can you please come over?” You asked him and waited with a baited breath for a response.

Immediately his tone changed to something more serious, “Of course I will come. Is there anything that you need?”

You listed off the things that you would like him to buy for you, pausing frequently when a particularly strong cramp hits you. And Pavitr listened to you with patience and understanding. God, that alone made you want to cry right then and there.

Within 30 minutes your front door opened revealing Pav holding a mountain of bags that you couldn’t help but gawk at. What you asked for wouldn’t even make up for half of what he was holding.

“Oh my, are you alright?” He questioned, with alarm in his voice. He dropped the bags carefully on the ground and rushed over to where you laid. “Do you want me to help you walk or carry you?”

“Carry please,” you respond. You closed your eyes a bit and just lent into his hold, he was warm and smelt good too.

A bit too warm but it was way better than the floor. Your back was starting to sore. He walked slowly to your bedroom and laid you on your bed carefully.

He sat at the edge of it and squeezed your arm lightly, “Are you cold or hot?”

You thought for a moment, feeling the air around you. Your legs were burning, it felt like everything was burning and on fire. “I’m really hot,” you muttered out.

He nodded his head, “I’ll find the remote and get you some water, okay? Are you hungry? Nauseous?”

Your stomach felt empty but you also felt really sick. The thought of food made your stomach twist and churn uncomfortably. You shake your head no.

Pavitr hums in response and brushes the sweat from your forehead. “Okay, I'll get a cold rag. Hang tight Sundari.”

He came back a few minutes later with some tea, a cold bottle of water, and a cold rag like he promised. Using the remote that he found, he turned on the AC and placed the cold rag on your burning skin.

“Okay, you rest up. I’ll cook and clean. Let me when you are ready to eat or need anything else.” He told you but a weak protest on your lips.

“Pavi, you don’t have to-.” You started to sit up in your bed, body feeling heavy and weakened from the lack of food.

He pushed you back gently, smile on his lips and twinkle in his eyes, “I don’t have to but I want to because I love you. Now let me take care of you, okay.”

Tags: @sodapopzs, @ellatienesuscosas, @justbeethings, @jam-skullz, @hoeboat101, @butterfi, @dreamxcollide, @sleepdeprivationis4coolkids, @itstooearly-its3am, @eight-cats-in-a-box, @maypersonne, @rosebunny, @midnight-the-shadow-wolf, @emgavi, @sawi-06, @niktwazny303, @nagi3seastorm, @ghostsimp000, @vixqn, @angelzira, @keawio, @nerdyparker616, @jell0buss-37, @mur-docs, @shibble, @somber-starz, @emgavi, @707xn, @cloudstrifefantatic, @yourtsahik, @im-jisoo-im-okay, @1uvvmi, @minimari415, @luci1fer, @centipider, @randomhoex, @universallypeanutpizzapersona, @baddiebehaviourxx, @m4rihrts, @laylasbunbunny, @andhdi68a, @avatarl0v3r, @spider-bren, @wraithlueintheirlittleworld, @ca1ist0, @liuralibrar

Taglist & Masterlist & Reqs Info

Request are open!!

#pavitr prabhakar #pavitr my beloved #pavitr prabhakar x you #atsv pavitr #atsv pavitr x female!reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr prabhakar x f!reader #astv x reader #pavitr x y/n #spiderverse pavitr #pavitr x reader #pavitr x you

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kimi-twstheadcanons · 5 months

Text

Stockings

-You decide to spend time in the Queendom of Roses for the Holidays. Deuce agrees to host you for the holidays. Which means you get to meet his mother. Who is more than happy to have you!

Pronouns: They/Them

“You need a place to stay for the Holidays? Well…you could stay over at my place. I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind! …I hope.”

•

“Oh, must be the friend Deuce talks about so much. And this must be Grim! I’ve heard so much about you as well! You both look so much cuter than he described!”

“Mom, please! Don’t embarrass me on the holidays…” Deuce pleaded with his mother as she doted over you and your feline companion. Her warm smile welcomes you into their home.

“Deuce, who might these two be?” An older woman asked as she carefully rounded the corner.

“This is (y/n) and Grim, grandma. They’re friends from school.” Deuce explained with a proud smile on his face.

“Well, then it’s lovely to meet you.” His grandmother said with the softest smile. She proceeds to walk into the kitchen and stands in front of you all, a warm aura around her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Same goes for you, Mrs. Spade.” You cheerfully greeted back with a smile. Mrs. Spade was the complete opposite of Mrs. Rosehearts. As soon as you walked through the door she had a smile and greeted you with warmth. She even hugged you.

“Are you hungry? I just made some food. If you want something else I can make that too. Deuce didn’t tell me you were coming over.” Mrs. Spade said, smiling at you. However, she said the last sentence playfully glaring at her son.

“It was a last-minute decision. I should have told him in advance, it’s my fault.” You admit nervously. Mrs. Spade’s attention turns back to you and she shakes her head.

“No, it’s alright, sweetie. I just like teasing him.” She explains with a smile. “Now, on that food. I have fruits if you prefer. Or is there anything I can make for you?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m not hungry but thank you. Grim, do you want somethi-”

“Do you have any tuna or fish in this kitchen?!” Grim immediately asked, cutting off your question a little too soon. Mrs. Spade giggles and nods before picking Grim up and carrying him to her kitchen cabinets. You happily sigh, glad that Grim was at least having a good time.

“Deuce, sweetie. Can you do me a favor and get the stockings so we can hang them?” Deuce’s grandmother suddenly asked. He looked at her confused.

“But, we haven’t hung those up in a while. I don’t even know where they are.”

“They're in a box in the attic. I think it’s time we take them out.” She calmly said as she placed her hand on Deuce’s shoulder. He looked at you, there was a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. He looked at Grim and saw that he seemed fine as he babbled away with his mom. He knew that his mother would spoil Grim with food so he shouldn’t cause trouble any time soon. After a moment of consideration, he agrees to his grandmother's request.

“You wanna come with me? I could use an extra hand to get them. The attic can be a bit tricky.” He asks you.

“Sure! Just promise there won’t be anything weird in there.” You tease, but you know nothing like that will happen.

“I thought you’d be used to it since you live in that broken-down dorm of yours.”

“Hey!” You complain. You hadn’t expected a roast from him so quickly. After a few seconds of silence, you both burst out laughing. As the laughter dies, he leads you to the hallway of his house to show you the door to the attic. Mrs. Spade and her mother watched as you two left the kitchen with bright smiles on your faces and bright laughter leaving your lips. They were happy Deuce finally found a good influence instead of those bad crowds he would hang around with during his middle school years. The years before he went to Night Raven College were years he didn’t want to talk about much.

“Hold up, let me open the hatch,” Deuce says after pausing you in the hallway. He then grabs a stick with a hook attached to it and lifts it so the hook catches the handle on the hatch door. He pulls it down and the ladder slides down hitting the floor hard. You flinch slightly, not expecting that to happen.

“Oh shoot, sorry. I didn’t realize that it would do that.” Deuce apologizes as he leans the stick on a wall. You giggle and shrug it off, as long as you guys weren’t hurt that’s fine. Deuce climbs up the ladder, reaching the attic. He extends his hand out down towards you and you begin to climb up, taking his hand as that final pull. Once you reach the top you both stand to your feet and look around. There was a window that allowed light to shine through so the place was dimly lit. You look around seeing boxes, bags, and old furniture. Nothing out of the ordinary really.

“There it is!” Deuce suddenly exclaimed in excitement. He runs to a box on top of more boxes and pulls it down to sit on an old side table. The writing in the box reads “Holiday Decor” on the side. He dusts off the top and proceeds to open it. You look inside and see strings of lights, old ornaments, old cookie cutters In gingerbread men's shapes, and anything you could think of that reminds you of the holidays. Deuce moves some to the side and takes others out. As he continues to dig observe some of the things he took out. It all seems pretty old and worn out so you understood why they would keep most of them in the box. Some seemed well-kept but themed in different colors that didn’t match the colors that decorated the rest of the house.

“This is only the first box. The decorations we put up were in the second box. Those are the newer ones.” Deuce explained after having glazed at your confused face. “That’s why some of them look newer and others look worn out. We could still fix them and use them though so we keep them around just in case.”

“Ah, I see. That��s pretty smart.” You say as you place the things you were holding down gently so you don’t mess them up. You continue to look around and examine the attic. It was a bit dusty. No cobwebs anywhere you can see. It all looked relatively clean. The lighting was a dim shade of light blue due to it being the middle of the day and the clouds covered the sky slightly.

“HA! I found them!” Deuce suddenly cheered loudly. He takes a stack of different colored cloth in his hands and hands you half. You unfold your stack and see that they are all stockings.

“Are all of these for your family?”

“Nah, some are extras. They should all be blank except the ones for me, my mom, and my grandma. They should have embroidery on them.” Deuce answers your question as he shuffles through the stockings in his hand. “Okay, I found my mom’s and grandma’s.”

“I found yours in this pile. But, who’s is this?” You ask, showing him the stocking. It matched his and his mother's with the spade designs, but it was slightly bigger. Deuce looks at it in shock and goes automatically silent. His eyes widened and his face paled. He hadn’t expected to see that stocking after such a long time and in your hands of all things. You began to worry, seeing that looking at the stocking clearly affected him.

“C-can I see that?” He asks hesitantly as if a stocking that belonged to his family was forbidden. He places the other stockings down on the table and holds out his slightly shaking hand.

“Sure,” you hand him the stocking carefully, “It’s yours after all.”

“...No…It’s not,” he says quietly as he looks down and caresses the embroidery. He can feel the emotions in him build but he tries to hold them in. “…it’s my dad’s.”

You pause, surprised at the reveal but livid at yourself that you didn’t put it together as soon as you held it next to Deuce’s before you handed it to him. You didn’t know what to do. The silence was killing you. Did you mess up? Was this a good thing that he’s seeing it? The thoughts were spiraling around your head as he continued to observe the stocking. You had to say something! But you had to make it small and not too invasive.

“…do you miss him?” You gently ask, breaking the sad silence. The action was on a whim and you thought that it could have been better, but you can’t turn back time now. The corner of his lips curl into a soft smile and he lets out an almost inaudible chuckle.

“I barely knew him. I told you before, didn’t I? My mom raised me as a single mother. She’s all I know. But sometimes…” he pauses as he sets down the stocking with his father's initials on it. He sighs as his hand remains on the fabric. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if he were here. Would my mom’s workload be easier? Would we all go out together as a family? Would I have any siblings who look exactly like me?” Deuce pauses as he thinks about what more to say. You keep quiet, wondering what the other questions on his mind could be.

“Would…would I have turned out to be a better son? Would he…would he be disappointed in me?”

“What?! No! No no no! Of course not!” You place the stockings in your hands down on the table and gently take a few steps closer to Deuce. You place your hand on top of his, the hand that was resting on his father's stocking. “Look, I’m not going to pretend like I know your father, because I don’t. But something in me is saying that as long as you’re trying to better yourself, that’s all he could ever ask for. We all fall down a bad path once or twice, but it’s the decisions we make after that make us who we are. You’re a good son because you’re trying to improve on your past mistakes and make up for all the bad things you did,” you rub the back of his hand with your thumb in an attempt to smooth him.

“And honestly, you’re doing a really good job so far. If he’s a good father, I know he’d be proud of the person you’ve become.” You finish off. Deuce stares at you in shock and admiration. You were so warm and caring. So honest yet so understanding. You are such an improvement from the people he used to hang around with. He was lucky, and he knew it. He smiles and moves his hand so that he is now holding yours in his palm.

“Thanks, I think I needed that.” He expressed softly as he looked at you. You nod with a smile, happy to see his mood has shifted to something better.

“You two found them yet? The day isn’t getting any younger!” Deuce’s grandmother’s voice boomed from the bottom of the ladder. You both flinch in surprise, not expecting such a sudden and very loud interruption. You both grabbed the stockings you had set on the table and ran down the ladder chuckling silently. You walk into the hallway and to the living room. You’re stopped by his grandma’s voice calling out to you two. You turn to look at her and see that she has a sewing kit in her lap. She gestures for the two of you towards her. You and Deuce slowly approach her in confusion. “I see you found all of them.”

“Yes. All of the different colors and sizes.” You reply cheerfully. Deuce’s grandma smiles at you and lifts her hands, gesturing for you to hand her the stockings. You and Deuce place the piles in her hands, even the ones with the initials on them. She sorts them out by color and places them on her lap.

“Which one would you like, sweetie?” She asks you as she opens the sewing kit. You stare in surprise for a moment and turn to Deuce. He seems surprised too but gestures for you to pick a stocking.

“Oh! You don’t have to give me one. I wouldn’t want you to go through all that trouble.” You reply, refusing to pick one. You didn’t want to bother her with something you thought was meaningless. You still weren’t sure if you were staying in Twisted Wonderland or not. If you were, you don’t know if you could keep in contact with Deuce as you get older anyway. You thought it was just too much trouble for her to do something so nice for a person she just met a few minutes ago and barely knew at all.

“Don’t be silly! There’s plenty to give to you and your little friend in the kitchen. We won’t be running out any time soon. Trust me.” She insists with a smile. You were still hesitant about it, but Deuce puts his hand on your shoulder and smiles. It’s his way of assuring you that it was perfectly fine. In fact; he’s glad you get a stocking that was embroidered by his grandmother! It works for an early gift and it’s one of a kind. But there’s a little part of him that’s just happy he gets bragging rights.

“I guess…that one then. Grim would most likely like that one though.” You reply nervously as you point out two different stockings representing Grim and you perfectly.

“Alright! Then I’ll get those finished up right away!” Deuce’s grandma chirps as she picks them both up off her lap. She moves the rest off to the side and takes out the other embroidered ones. She smiles as she sees hers, her daughter’s, and Deuce’s. But she suddenly pauses as her eyes land on Deuce’s dad’s stocking. Her expression fell slightly and you could tell sad emotions began to fill her heart. She let out a melancholic sigh and continued her smile.

“Deuce! (Y/N)! Come eat, sweethearts!” Deuce’s mom suddenly yells from the kitchen to catch their attention. They turn toward the direction of the voice for a split moment before turning back to check on Deuce’s grandma.

“I’ll be fine. You both go eat. I ate while you two were in the attic.” She reassures as she waves her hand to gesture you two off. You both nod and walk off into the kitchen to eat as she begins the embroidery for you and Grim.

“I hope the food was to your liking! You seem like you haven’t eaten in months.” Deuce’s mother says as she washes the dishes with Deuce by her side helping her. Grim was asleep on your lap and snoring softly. You were sitting in your chair, leaning back, tired and belly full.

“It was wonderful, Mrs. Spade. Thank you.” You say drowsily. You let out a small yawn that causes her to chuckle.

“No, thank you for being Deuce’s friend. It’s good to see that he’s made friends who are good influences. Unlike those troublemakers back in his middle school days.” Deuce cringes at the mention of his old self. He didn’t like to bring it up and it was worse since it was his mom who brought it up. To her it was teasing, to him, it was just a reminder of her crying. He would never tell her that though. Suddenly his grandma softly walked over to the entrance of the kitchen and poked her head in.

“I’m going to bed early for today. Goodnight everyone.” You all say goodnight as she leaves the kitchen, her footsteps fading away the further she goes. Grim yawns in your lap before laying his head back down. Watching him causes you to yawn after, showing just how tired you are. You lean back in your chair to get more comfortable.

“Don’t worry, I’ll lead you to the guest room. Just give me a few more minutes.” Deuce says as he continues to help his mom.

“Take your time, Deuce.” You say as you begin to slowly pet Grim’s head. After a few minutes, you begin to feel your eyelids getting heavy and you start to find it hard to keep your head up. Suddenly Grim was swept off your lap, which startled you. A sudden burst of energy woke you up to see who had caused the sudden disturbance. Deuce looked down at you with Grim in his arms and an apologetic smile as you calmed down. He gestured for you to follow him out of the kitchen as you rubbed your eyes from their sleepiness.

“Have a good rest, sweetie.” Mrs. Spade quietly called out to you.

“Thank you, you as well.” You replied drowsily as you looked back at her with a smile. She looked back at you for a moment to give a small smile before continuing to put away the rest of the dry dishes. You continue to follow Deuce into the hall. He stops in front of the guest room door for a moment, in thought. Then swiftly turns to you, careful of the sleepy Grim in his arms.

“Um…my bed frame is designed with a pull-out bed underneath. If you don’t want to sleep in the guest room, you could sleep…in my room.” He says hesitantly, a slight tint of red on his cheeks. You giggle slowly, tired but not enough to not tease him.

“Awe, Little Deuce needs a kitty to sleep?” You tiredly tease.

“Of course, I’d be fine with sleeping in your room. I trust you. I can’t even count the amount of times you’ve helped me. I still can’t forget how you and Ace rushed from the Queendom of Roses to help Grim and me when we were trapped in Scarabia.” You reminisced.

“We were late though, and you were already safe by the time we got there.” He pouted, upset that he had been late to help you.

“It’s fine! You got a party out of it. It’s the fact that if I needed you, you’d try your hardest to be there for me. That’s what matters the most.” You smile. He stares at you in awe. You always look on the bright side of things, while being a badass by not letting anyone push you around. In a world full of magic, attending a school for those with magical talent, how are you so strong? It’s a wonder that he may never solve. Nevertheless, he’s glad he met you.

He leads you to his room, hands you Grim to hold for a moment, pulls out the bed, and straightens it out to gently place Grim on. You grab your pajamas from your bag to go change in the bathroom so Deuce can change in his room comfortably. When you get back Deuce is in his pajamas and sitting on his bed scrolling on his phone. While you were in the bathroom you had brushed your teeth and washed your face already, so when you walked in Deuce hopped up to do the same.

He was only gone for at least 5 minutes, but when he came back you were already fast asleep on the pull-out bed, Grim curled up next to you. Deuce smiled, a warmth in his heart, knowing he finally made a true friend that only wanted to see him progress in life and not bring him down. He carefully climbs into his bed, making sure not to disturb you, and lays down, makes himself comfortable, and falls asleep.

You wake up to the smell of French toast and ice. The frost on Deuce’s bedroom window being the cause of the second smell. You assume the french toast from from breakfast. You sit up, stretching your arms and yawning. That’s when you realize that Grim and Deuce weren’t in the room with you. You look around, and shrug it off, thinking you’ll find them in the kitchen. You get up, head to the bathroom, brush your teeth, wash your face to get the rest of what was left of sleep off you, and head to the kitchen. While walking in the living room you realize they had already started putting up decorations in the living room leading into the hallway. You walk into the kitchen and find Mrs. Spade cooking, Grim chomping on food, Deuce setting your plate on the table, and his grandmother eating.

“Oh, good morning. Come on, I got your plate here for you. Ace said he’ll drop by to hang out later.” Deuce says as he notices you. You walk in and sit down between Deuce and an empty seat, the seat for his mother. You gently pick the slightly different food from the different plates in the middle of the table. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, everything for a breakfast you’d see in an American movie. Though, it might just be normal for them since America doesn’t exist in Twisted Wonderland.

It wasn’t until everyone was sitting and mingling at the table that you noticed a little detail. Hanging over the fireplace were stockings that all looked matching…except two. The ones you picked out for Grim and you. Deuce’s grandma must have finished them before going to bed. What a fast lady. The one for Grim had a happy little tuna fish, a cute little one, embroidered on it. Yours’s had a lotus embroidered on it. You look at it a bit confused.

“I heard it means positivity,” Deuce’s grandmother's voice suddenly chimed. You turn to her in surprise. She must have caught you looking at the stockings.

“The lotus I put on your stocking. I heard they symbolize all things positive and rebirth. Something I imagine you’ve experienced. Something you helped Deuce with. I think it fits you.” She continues, a warm smile on her face. Deuce looks between you two as Mrs. Spade talks to Grim. You smile back at the older woman and say something that makes Deuce’s heart quicken.

“Thank you so much. But really, Deuce is the one I should thank for all he’s done for me.”

#twst disney #twst #Twisted Wonderland #Heartslabyul #Deuce Spade #twst x y/n #twst x you #twst x reader #Twisted Wonderland Holiday Special #Holiday Special

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evertidings · 9 months

Note

ok ok i feel like some people see rylan eating from mc’s kitchen as being Gremlin Activity™️ but all i can think about is asking what they want from the grocery store bc like? they’re eating from my kitchen so i should stock up on things they want?? perhaps a little corner of a pantry with a sticky note labeled “approved for rylan theft”???? i can’t let someone leave my house without having a snack they like???????

haha for some reason i always write them eating crackers which, random thing to snack on but they’re good once in a while.

i mostly wrote Rylan snacking on people’s food as a bit more than insinuating they’re actually hungry. that being said, they’d definitely appreciate if they mentioned pocky once and randomly saw it stocked up in the hunter’s pantry though. definitely wouldn’t mind at all.

#ask #rylan villanueva

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miss-celestia13 · 7 months

Text

Mastermind

Jake x MC Silly Fluffy One Shot

Words: 4.3k

Inspired by old memes! I've added one to the end.

Jake has planned their trip to IKEA down to the last second. He forgot to account for MC and her ability to turn a simple shopping trip into a day-long adventure. He's a mastermind, but he might have met his match.

Thank you so much to the lovely @julesisreading for all her help and insights with IKEA and the things that could happen to Jake there 🤭 I have only been once or twice myself and needed some help with it. Anything that is wrong, call it artistic liberty and I have no budget to stick to when writing, so I can do what I want🤣❤️

Jake

He was armed to the teeth. Nothing could surprise him or knock him off track. The map was crystal in his mind, and he was confident every challenge, problem, and panic attack had been accounted for and neutralized before they could infringe upon his ability to complete this mission. It was one he took seriously and would accept nothing but success. They’d eaten a decent breakfast, and he packed bottles of water and snacks in case she got hungry. All avenues had been considered. He knew every entrance and exit and mapped out multiple escape routes for every turn and pitfall they might fall into. He was ready. He was prepared. Or so he thought. He’d forgotten to account for the human elements, and a sinking sensation in his stomach already warned him all might not be well.

Jake eyed the mammoth building with a gimlet eye and smothered his groan as they approached the entrance. They were about to face the most arduous struggle many couples grapple with… a trip to IKEA. The challenge? Walk in, get what they need, and walk back out without breaking up. He was confident he could hold his own and not give in to the pressures being faced with so many options could place on a person. A strange notion swept over him as the automatic doors parted to allow them inside. Should he be laying a trail of breadcrumbs to ensure they found their way out? He was almost intimidated by the size of the place and doubted his own ability to remember everything he’d planned. The woman beside him insisted on pushing the cart so he could grab things she pointed at, and there was a distinct frenetic energy around her small form that made her bounce as she walked.

The list he created the night before was on his phone, and he knew exactly where everything was to the last inch. Reassured by the website that all was in stock, he warned her on the way there that they would not be distracted by anything shiny and they would avoid the food hall. He couldn’t remember if she actually agreed to his terms or if she made him forget them by using her feminine ways to distract him. If she had, he knew he enjoyed every moment of it and wouldn’t hold it against her. She laughed at his intense research, but he was determined to make it out alive and mostly intact. He felt more like he was gearing up for a fight than furniture shopping, and her delighted squeal as they approached the pile of reusable blue and yellow bags only solidified that feeling. She was grabbing one after another and smiling as she turned to him.

“Do you think four will suffice?”

He opened his mouth to affirm, but she shook her head and muttered, “No, better get a few more just in case. I think… yep! Seven will do!”

“We don’t need that much...” He said as she bounced back to his side and tossed the bags in the cart.

“We might see something we didn’t know we needed, Jake!” She laughed, eyes alight with mischief as they ambled into the market hall.

A subtle but noticeable scent hung in the air: sawdust, maybe something with cinnamon, and a bunch of other things he didn’t have a name for hit him as they walked in, and it was pleasant, but he did not trust it. He knew it was only there to lure one in, get them lost, and keep them trapped inside this horror store forever. His credit card burned a hole in his pocket as she approached a row of finger-smeared computers and began pointlessly searching for all they needed. He stifled a chuckle as the first two she tried would not work, and she growled at the screen, huffed, and glared at him when his worked on the first try. His touch screen was faulty, though, and when it failed to show him where he could find the coffee table she so desperately wanted, he sighed through his nose and prayed this wasn’t a sign of things to come.

“Come on, Hackerman, we’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way!” She chirped, guiding the cart away and over to a display of kitchen utensils.

“I have everything we need marked down. We just have to go there, and...we don’t need a lemon juicer.” He arched a brow as she demonstrated how to use it and winked at him.

“You never know! It’s only -”

“Yeah, it’s only $2.49. That’s how they get you.” He said, and she scoffed but put it down after remembering she didn’t like lemons.

There were too many shiny, cheap, and silly things to grab her attention. Like a magpie, anything that glittered under the fluorescent lights caught her eye. She flitted from shelf to shelf like some demented fairy while he watched on and felt his hope of getting out before dark dwindle and drain away to nothing. They successfully found both the nightstands and dresser, but as he failed to find the shelves she specified, his frown deepened, and he pulled out his phone to double-check the website. It said they had it, but he stood before the empty space where his shelves should be and wanted to beat his head off a wall. Rechecking the site, he didn’t notice her approaching and jumped a foot in the air as her bright voice cut through the angry murmurs in his head.

“We can just choose another set. It’s fine. The ones down there look alright.”

“If it isn’t in stock, the website shouldn’t say it is! It should be here, where it’s stupid tag is. Or what’s the point in it?” He grumbled, glaring at the empty space one last time before following her as she skipped to another set that fit their budget.

She grinned as she pointed at it and posed like a hostess on an old game show.

“See, it’ll do. Crisis averted. I bet if you checked the website it would be out of stock! Help me get it in the cart!” She demanded with a cheeky grin. He couldn’t help but return it as he did as she asked.

The other shoppers reminded him of those old zombie movies. Glazed eyes and faces frozen in thinly veiled discontent as they blindly tossed mass-produced artwork and lampshades into their carts. Somehow, the millionth print of a black squiggle was something many felt completed the décor of their homes. He didn’t understand it and was glad when his overexcited partner completely bypassed that section to drag him to another display, making him want to dig in his heels to avoid it. His eyes could barely keep track she moved so fast, just a blur of hair and freckles jumping from aisle to aisle. Bedding, shower curtains, and decorative pillows somehow made it into their cart, and he could sense his finely tuned plans falling apart like wet paper under his hands. This was his Great War. He’d brought a knife to a gunfight and lost the battle before they’d arrived.

He kept his mouth shut until she let out a thrilled noise and made a beeline for the mirrors.

“The stuff we need is over there. It says there's only one in stock. We need to hurry.” He tried as she waved a hand at him and examined the many mirrors.

He could see himself glowering as she paced along the aisle, a finger tapping her chin. And practically heard the cogs turning in her head as she pondered how to convince him they needed another mirror to give the illusion of space.

“I think another won’t go amiss, that one!” She clapped her hands and gestured toward one that would require another cart.

“We can order it online once we know we have space for it.” He smiled, and hoped it looked genuine.

“Have you seen the delivery charge?! It’s more than the mirror. I’ll grab another cart while you get the things on your list. I know you can find me anyway.” She teased, making him bark a shocked laugh, but he couldn’t deny it.

“Fine, but we’ll meet back here in an hour, deal?” He held out his pinky as she sidled closer and looked up at him through a fan of dark lashes.

She hooked her pinky around his and shook, “Deal. Now, off you go! Let me have my fun.” She sang and left him blinking after her. Gods, he loved her.

He knew it was futile, but he clung to his plan and moved away to track down what they needed. The store wifi kept dipping out as he walked deeper into the maze of shelves and displays, getting turned around and making the same journey twice to find his way out. It didn’t feel like a win whenever he found something they needed. It felt like a payment that cost him blood and tears. His nerves were frayed, and his skin felt too tight as he tried and failed to double-check their stock. Again, it said everything was available, but as he came across yet another empty shelf, he wanted to throw his phone away in frustration. He had half a mind to update the stock counts online himself after this shit show, and he just might make that his new mission if he couldn’t get what they needed.

“There are three in stock. Where? Why... where the hell are they?” He was whispering as he crouched to check underneath, and seeing nothing, he straightened and looked around for an employee.

It took a few more minutes before he tracked down a worker bearing the store’s famous coloring and swallowed his anxiety to question him.

“Hi, sorry to bother you, your website says these are in stock, but there are none. Do you have any?”

The man sighed heavily, glanced at Jake’s phone, and shook his head, “I don’t think so. If none are on the shelves, you’ll have to try online or at another store.”

Jake bit down on his disgruntled groan and asked the question he knew all retail workers despised, but he had to be sure. He couldn’t give up yet.

“Could you maybe check in the back? I hate to ask, but my girlfriend-”

The man’s face morphed into an expression of supreme understanding, “Ahh, sure, man. I’ll do it. Wait here.”

Jake clung to his fading hopes as the minutes ticked away and other shoppers moved around his still form. It couldn’t have been longer than five minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Jake before the employee strode for him empty-handed.

“Sorry, man. We haven’t got any in. We’ll get more soon and can email you once it’s here?” He offered, but Jake shook his head.

“No, we’ll pick something else. Thank you, though.”

That sinking sensation spiraled lower in his gut as he eyed the available units and chose the one most similar to what she wanted. Soon, the hour was up, and he returned to the agreed meeting spot. She wasn’t there. Of course, she wasn’t. His phone signal was better there, and the wifi worked, so he pulled up his tracker and waited for it to find her. She was on the opposite side of the gigantic building and was moving farther away as he cursed and hurried to chase her down. Half-dazed shoppers jumped out of his way as he vaulted down aisles, and the cart almost went sideways as he took every corner at a run. The rattling of the boxes and items against their metal chariot drowned out the beat of his heart as he rounded another corner and saw her. Her arms were full of assorted office supplies and décor, which she dumped in her overflowing cart that also contained a multitude of items they didn’t have on his list.

She spied him and grinned, waving him over, and he approached with an almost nervous air as she explained her thoughts.

“You have an office to fill, and I think these will work perfectly. I also saw some little work lamps, but I thought you’d like to choose that. Ooh! We should have lunch! Meatballs! I’m starving, and we haven’t eaten since this morning.”

He didn’t know where to start with that, and he knew no matter what he said, it wouldn’t sink in while she was surrounded by the sights and smells of everything she wanted.

“I have some snacks with me; we can eat those and just get everything done so we can leave.”

“But... meatballs, Jake! And cake, I can’t pronounce the cake’s name, but you have to try it! Do you want a tiny lamp? Or an even tinier fake cactus? They’re quite cute.”

“We can make meatballs at home...”

Her hands were on her hips as she pinned him with an unimpressed stare, “It’s. Not. The. Same.”

Sighing, his lips twitched with the urge to laugh at her adorable face, but he tamped it down as he replied, “We’re already behind schedule, and you wanted to get some of this built before everyone comes over tomorrow.”

She didn't respond but nodded as she turned and walked over to her cart. He was not distracted by the many pens, notepads, and stationery holders. No, he wasn’t. And he certainly didn’t toss a few packs in with his half of their shopping when she wasn’t looking. He wasn’t as sly as he thought, and her arched brow when she saw him covering the pens with a pillow told him she missed nothing when it came to him. As the checkout came into view, his chest loosened, and victory hovered at the edges of his mind as they were quickly rung up and charged a small fortune. He felt safe to internally celebrate making it out alive as they headed for the exit. But she uttered some words that delayed it instantly.

“I need the bathroom! I’ll meet you at the car.”

“I can wait for you here?” He offered.

“No, it’s fine. I know where you parked.”

Seeing no way to argue, and he was blocking the exit, he nodded and took control of her cart along with his. It was risky business navigating the busy parking lot, and he was sweating by the time he reached his. He opened the large trunk and methodically began to pack everything inside, using the backseats for everything that didn’t fit in the trunk. Silently, Jake swore he would never again darken the Swedish megastore’s doorstep. It would be a cold day in hell before he subjected himself to that place again. He was returning the empty carts to the store when his phone buzzed. He waited until his hands were free to check it and didn’t know whether to bemoan her tenacity or delight in it.

MC: I’ve got your meatballs and kladdkaka! Come get them before I finish mine and eat yours.

His traitorous stomach rumbled as he read, and the smile flirting with the corners of his mouth soon overtook his face. He couldn’t complain; they finished shopping and had nowhere else to be. She was only playing by his rules and twisting them to get him out of his rigidness. And he was hungry... pocketing his phone with an exasperated curse, Jake once more entered the hell of IKEA and set off to find the insistent woman who held his heart of glass in her steady hands. The food hall teemed with frazzled shoppers, overexcited kids, and elderly folks who eyed the mayhem with narrowed eyes. He scanned the bustling tables for a familiar head of hair and spotted her off in the back corner, dancing as she ate. As he rounded the table, he saw his own plate waiting for him and plopped into the hard chair across from her as she forked up the last piece of her cake and stuffed it in her mouth. He found it oddly endearing that she always ate her dessert first in places like this.

“You found me! That’s your reward.” She chuckled and pointed at the food on his side after she cleared her mouth with a sip of cold water.

“Mmhmm.” Was all he said as he tucked into his fast-cooling meal and caught her staring at his slice of cake.

He didn’t get the hype, but the meatballs were edible, and the mashed potatoes were silky smooth with no hidden horrible lumps, so he was happy to munch away. She did the same and kept dancing with every mouthful she took, though her eyes would stick to his dessert every now and again. They chatted between bites, and he wondered if she realized just how deep a hold she had on him, how far he’d go to see her smile like she was then. He didn’t think so and thought it was part of her charm. She could make a trip to the DMV an adventure, and he admired her warm, romantic view of the world despite his learned knowledge that it was often cold, hurtful, and dark. Her ability to make him feel the same way was a form of magic he’d never heard anyone discuss, but he thought it should be treasured more than the big things. The mundane made up the majority of their daily lives. It was a special kind of magic and person that could make even the dull seem extraordinary.

The freckles on her nose scrunched up as she caught him watching her, and he ducked his head to hide his grin as a blush sparked in her cheeks. He was content to observe her squirm and pretend she didn’t want to ask him for his slice. Pulling it towards him after he finished the bland meatballs, he used his fork to cut off a small piece. She was barely breathing and leaning closer, eyes locked on his hands. He popped it in his mouth, ignoring the rush of saliva as the flavor exploded on his tongue to push the rest of it over to her. Her eyes lit up, a coy smile on her pretty mouth as she tried to be considerate despite the feral nature of her love of all things sweet.

“Are you sure? We can split it?” She said even as she shoveled it into her mouth, and he couldn’t help but laugh at her when she looked confused at her now empty plate.

“I think it’s too late for that,” he joked before going on, “Do you want more? We can get more.”

She considered it, and he was getting ready to do it when she shook her head and said, “No, if we buy more, I’ll eat it all before we get home and feel sick all night. We should go before I forget that!”

He knew it was true and let her lead the way to the car, her swinging gaze catching on every table until they were on the way downstairs and approaching the double doors to freedom. They were soon back in the car, stomachs full and warmed through as he pulled out of his spot and followed the traffic to the main road. The journey home was short, filled with her singing along to whatever radio station she found and asking him questions he thought she might already know the answers to but just wanted to hear his voice. Still rusty from years of disuse, his answers sometimes meandered off the correct path, but she hung on his every word like he was revealing the secrets of the universe. And it never stopped. No matter where they were, if he spoke, she focused intently on him until he was done. It was oddly heartwarming and touching. He hoped he made her feel the same way whenever she was telling one of her stories that had a thousand offshoots and side quests. Their home soon came into view, and the last vestiges of stress fluttered away as he parked on their driveway.

The truth was, they didn’t need anything they bought today. But her only condition for him moving in was that they make it feel like his place, too, and it must look like he lived there. She wanted him to put his mark on their home so he knew he could always find safety there. He’d been happy to move in and use her things, used to having nothing, and everything he did have could fit inside a backpack. Material goods didn’t really matter to him, but it wasn’t the furniture she cared about. She wanted him to feel like he counted, and he needed to have a hand in how their home came together. His mind buzzed as they swiftly unloaded the car and carried everything inside. It didn’t take too long before they were seated on the couch with mugs of hot coffee as they studied the many boxes they’d have to assemble.

As soon as he’d downed the last of his drink, she slapped her hands to her thighs and declared, “I’ll build the coffee table if you can handle your desk! Then we’ll just build them one by one.”

Jake agreed, and they got down on the carpet to begin. She tore at the packaging, practically gnawing on it like a squirrel to get the tape off as he found a packing knife and unsealed it neatly. Her brute force approach worked well for building the furniture. He was still setting all his pieces out in order of use before he picked up the first piece of wood he had to join with another while she was battering in the last leg of the table. Music played quietly as they worked, and she lit some scented candles when night drew in, turning on the lights once it was too dark to see. His frustration mounted as the last piece refused to slide in, making a queer rattling noise when he tried to force it. She was halfway through a nightstand when she noticed and came over to see if she could help.

“You know, when it doesn’t fit right, I just… make it fit.”

Jake snorted, “I’ve tried that. It doesn’t want to catch the slider.”

“Want me to hit it?” She asked with a wicked grin.

“No, I think that’ll make it worse.”

“Okay, let me know! I have some rage I’d like to get out.” She said as she crawled back to her side.

He couldn’t help the silly chuckle that slipped free of his clenched teeth as the drawer finally gave into his pressuring shove, and his frustration bled away as it smoothly rolled open again at his urging.

“What rage do you have?” He wondered aloud as she slammed her fist down on the top of the nightstand to test its strength. She was more akin to a hissing kitten when mad. It was difficult to imagine her acting truly angry.

“Stupid things. Marge next door telling me not to feed the birds. Janet at work, who keeps forgetting what days I work, and the man in Starbucks who always misspells my name!”

He was grateful her grievances were so frivolous and hoped they always remained so. She should never know how it felt to be completely alone and lost in the world. Whatever life handed him, even the good parts were often accompanied by soul-destroying despair. Even now, he was the happiest he’d ever been, free of his self-made chains and financially secure. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop and often was paranoid that it hadn’t. He’d do everything in his power to ensure she never knew such darkness. If she ever lost that glint in her eye and the rose-colored glasses that made her world seem so gentle and lovely, he would never forgive himself. All he wanted was peace and happiness for her and for him. He knew life came with dips and often destruction, but he would feel complete if he could make this house their private little oasis from the world. The place they could retreat to and rebuild from the rubble whenever life’s hammer fist crushed them.

Long into the night, they playfully bickered and talked as they put together their new joint life and saved the rest for another day when their eyes turned gritty, and their yawns lasted longer than their conversation. Her soft hands were the sweetest medication as she ruffled his hair and suggested they got ready for bed. Side by side in the bathroom, they brushed their teeth and washed their faces, changing out of their clothes and putting on something lighter to sleep in. He knew his way around the house blind, and they didn’t turn on any lights as they entered their bedroom and crawled into bed. He curled around her body, his arm wrapping around her waist as she snuggled closer and hummed contentedly. Her soft breathing deepened, and he assumed she’d fallen asleep until her fatigue-roughened voice broke the silence.

“IKEA wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He huffed a laugh, kissing the crown of her head before answering, “It wasn’t too terrible. But will you promise me something?”

There was a smile in her voice as she said, “Sure, anything for you.”

“Next time, we order online, and I’ll make you an entire chocolate cake you can eat by yourself.”

There was a pause, a giggle, and finally, “Okay. Deal. I promise. I’ll even let you have a small sliver of cake.”

“Deal.” He said and closed his eyes on the long day, certain in knowing he had many more good days ahead of him.

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

Thank you for reading! And if you reblog or comment, thank you for that too. It was a daft idea I had that wouldn’t leave me alone to write other things🤭 I hope you enjoyed it!

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theghostkingisdead · 7 months

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so i have this au where danny is basically raised by ghosts. even before the portal opened, his parents' constant work with ectoplasm thinned the veil around their house, meaning shades could pass over. And these shades basically take a look at this neglected child and say is anyone else gonna raise this kid and then don't wait for an answer

In this au danny becomes a halfa through constant exposure to ectoplasm, which literally burns through his humanity but doesn't kill him. I haven't decided whether or not he still goes through the portal in this one, so lmk what y'all think.

A potential scene from this AU:

Danny sat at his desk, trying to focus on his homework over the growling in his stomach. It was easy work, really. Just a review worksheet for the upcoming math test. Long division. With fractions. And decimals.

Ok, so if Sally has two thousand dollars, spends 4/5 and puts 3/4 of it in the bank, she’ll have about…how much remaining?

Danny groaned, slamming his head onto the table. His stomach groaned with him. The ache was dull, for the most part, and would have been easy to ignore if not for the sharp way it bit at him whenever he moved.

It had been two and a half, maybe three full days since he’d eaten anything. It wasn’t his parents’ fault, that they forgot to feed him over the weekend. They had their own minifridge in the basement, and rarely remembered to come upstairs except to sleep.

Once upon a time, Jazz had made sure he at least ate something, back when his parents stocked the fridge with non-biohazards. But she was in fourteen and old enough to work, now, and he barely saw her except in the mornings.

Danny frowned back at his page. So, one quarter of two thousand is five hundred, and that leaves 4/5 of one thousand five hundred… no, that’s not right.

Thunk. Something heavy landed next to his head.

Danny flinched back violently, almost tipping over his chair. He flailed his arms, trying to find his balance.

He looked back up. There, sitting on his desk, dripping green juices all over his worksheet, was a piece of what might have once been steak.

It was the right shape, he was sure, but where steak was normally pink, this piece of meat was light green, with nearly-black veins threaded throughout. He leaned forward, face screwing up at the smell; like dead iron and cleaning supplies.

It was gross. It was foul. It was getting raw-meat juices all over his half-finished paper.

It had been three days since he’d last eaten.

Against his will, Danny felt his mouth beginning to water.

He looked towards his door; still closed and locked. The only clue as to where the steak had come from was the room’s dropping temperature, and a shadow in the corner of his room. it disappeared when he looked at it head on, but from the corner of his eye, he could make out a human-like figure with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

It gestured at him, and Danny knew what it was asking.

The steak was gross. Danny was hungry.

Wouldn’t he get sick from eating raw meat?

A memory tickled at the back of his head, of a steak so rare it was barely cooked, of a night out with Aunt Alicia.

So maybe he’d be fine?

Danny grabbed the steak, grimacing at the way it squished between his fingers. He brought it up to his face, and almost threw up directly on it; the smell was way worse up close.

But Danny was hungry, and he had never been one to waste food. Steeling himself, taking a large breath of blissfully clean air, he leaned forward and bit down.

It tasted worse than it smelled. In his mouth, the sharp iron scent turned bitter, sucking the moisture from his mouth like an underripe persimmon. The meat was chewy, and tough, and somehow still spicy. It burned his throat going down.

It was by far, the worst thing he’d ever eaten. Not that he had much to compare it too.

And besides; Danny was hungry.

The steak went down in quick, desperate bites. The bone was licked clean.

His rest that night was fitful, and Danny awoke with a fever high enough that even his parents took notice, calling him out of school for the next two days.

But the meat stayed down. And Danny was full.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #food #raised by ghosts au

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redflagshipwriter · 2 months

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Reassembly 5

Masterpost

(What the frick is the bat guy about???)

They did serious damage to Lexy’s credit card in the form of a cast iron pan, a pot, basic cooking utensils and a four-person set of dishware before they even made it to the grocery store.

Peter tried not to go nuts there. He really did. But Kon had that empty kitchen! And to be honest, shopping was major wish fulfillment. Even though he knew he wouldn’t be eating all of the food he got way into it. They stocked up on easy freezer food like pizza rolls and fries. They got pasta mixes and jarred sauces and they got snacks and sweets. He even got Kon baking basics. It might take Kon a while to get into his fresh bread era, but it was going to happen. Peter was calling it now. Kon was just that kind of guy.

The last thing he got was meat. Meat and cheese and fresh vegetables. Peter ended up putting back half of what he initially put in the cart because, honestly, Kon didn’t have a massive super appetite and he didn’t know how to cook yet. Vegetables were just going to go bad, so he only got what he planned to use that night. He also stocked Kon up on breakfast supplies- bread and jam, eggs, sausage, coffee and tea and juice.

‘I wish I was staying with Kon to eat this. I’m going to be hungry again tomorrow.’

Peter pushed down that greedy little thought where it belonged. He was going to be eating lunch and dinner with Kon tonight, since they were cooking together. That was already really generous on Kon’s part. He couldn’t ask for more.

The boys ended up making spaghetti. Peter wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he could cut onion and garlic to cook meat in, shred in carrots and zucchini, and add a jar of red sauce to make something nutritionally dense that tasted really good. Kon hovered over his shoulder watching this process and making faux sports commentary.

“Go away!” Peter shoved Kon with his shoulder, laughing. “Go start the garlic bread.”

“...Garlic bread?” Kon asked hopefully. He seemed way younger than he was sometimes. “You can make that at home?”

“You can, if you get to cutting garlic really small.” Peter tossed him a bulb without looking.

They ate dinner while watching some drama that Kon picked out on a streaming service. “Holy shit,” Kon said quietly after his first bite. He put down the plate and took a photo.

Peter snorted. Kon must have sent it to someone because his phone went off constantly after that.

He wasn’t even done eating their late lunch when he first wondered where he was going to sleep tonight. Peter stared down into his pasta like it might have some answers. When should he leave? What would he say if Kon asked for his phone number? He didn’t have one. He couldn’t give Kon the number to the phone he had on him– he was pretty sure that he really should get rid of it in case someone was tracking him.

He should ask first. If he directed the conversation it would be easier to be normal than if he was just answering questions. So Peter swallowed hard, made himself smile, and said, “This was fun. Wanna hang out again?”

Kon noisily slurped down some sauce and wiggled in place while he chewed and swallowed. “Yeah, we should!” he agreed. “You uh, free later this week?”

He was jobless and homeless with no other acquaintances.

“I have some time,” Peter said casually. “I’m kinda busy tomorrow, but the day after? Should I come over in the afternoon?”

“Yeah!” Kon bounced up off his seat for a moment. “We can finish the projects. Or work on them, at least.” He screwed his face up with a thought. “Can I get your handle or number, in case my work pops up?”

Peter’s smile turned fixed. “Actually, not now,” he said as casually as he could manage. “I dropped my phone in water. I just have my Dad’s old phone right now for emergencies.” He didn’t need to add that lie, but what if he needed to pull out the flip phone later? He didn’t want Kon to think that he just hadn’t wanted to give his number.

Kon laughed. “That sucks, man,” he empathized.

Oh thank Thor, he bought it.

The fabric was dry by then, so Peter helped Kon cut it out and sew it into place. Kon modeled his new look in the living room and then took approximately two hundred selfies while Peter worked on his project. Kon eventually flopped down on the sofa upside down and started sketching out design ideas. Peter glanced over and saw what looked like a boob window cut into some kind of top.

…Kon would look great in it. Peter didn’t comment. He smiled a little more when he went back to cutting out pieces for his own jacket.

“Smile!”

Peter looked over on reflex and cheesed. A shutter went off. “Can I send that to my friends?” Kon asked, so casually that Peter knew it mattered a lot. “Cassie says no way did I meet someone without her.”

“Go ahead.” Peter gave a thumbs up for reasons even he did not understand. Good thing he wasn’t a weird little guy!

Kon looked relieved. There was less tension when he went back to looking at his phone. “Thanks, man. You want to think about dinner soon? You’ve been working for a couple of hours.”

Peter had to blink a few times to process that. Oh yeah, he was pretty stiff. He stretched experimentally. “You’re right,” he said, mildly surprised. “Huh. What did you have in mind?”

Kon shrugged. “Pizza?”

Peter hummed. “We can pull that off,” he decided. “We have… two more jars of marinara, one will do. Cheese, the bell peppers- yeah, that’ll work.” He stood in a smooth movement. “Could you get the flour down from where we put it- yeah, thanks.” Kon hovered back down and handed him the bag.

“I meant that we should order it,” Kon said, but he didn’t protest. “You can make pizza? At home?” He was delighted by this new information.

“You can make basically anything at home,” Peter said, because it apparently needed to be said. “Can you look up a pizza dough recipe?” He got out the salt and tried to remember where he’d put yeast.

Pizza did not go quite as smoothly as the pasta had. Kon brutalized the dough by over mixing it and the gluten developed bonds strong enough to rival the Hulk. But it was still edible! Kon was openly delighted with what he had made. Peter stole sideways glances at him, wondering if he should reassure that it was a great first try.

‘..I’m not sure he knows that it’s really tough,’ Peter decided. He said nothing. They watched one episode of Kon’s selected drama before Peter decided it was time to go.

Kon seemed surprised when Peter said that. He blinked at him a few times. “It felt like I was at the tow- a sleepover,” he said self consciously. He forced a laugh. “Yeah. You wanna leave your stuff here?”

Peter looked around Kon’s surgically clean living room and wondered if Lexy’s cleaning staff would throw away his stuff. “Yeah, sure,” he said, because it wasn’t like he had a place to store a project. “I appreciate that.”

He left not much later, making his excuses and backing out into the night with dread that he didn’t want to face curling in his gut. The feeling intensified as he got down to the lobby of Kon’s apartment building.

It was dark out, even with the streetlights on. The air was cold against his face. Peter huddled into his jacket, hand wound tightly around the strap of the bag with everything he owned in it.

At least he knew the time. It was a little past 10 pm.

He needed a shower and to sleep. The gym should be empty now. He could break back in, shower, and then go sleep on the library couch again. Even if the librarian came in early again, he could get a few hours of sleep.

He woke up again to the sound of keys in the door downstairs. This time he woke up feeling much better rested. Peter wandered blearily until he found a clocktower and realized it was nearly 9 am. Nice. He was working on his sleep debt, then. He surely hadn’t spent more than an hour between traveling to the gym, showering, and getting to the couch last night. That was maybe 9.5, 10 hours of sleep?

He left to a new hotel for a breakfast buffet. This one was particularly sad. He had two pieces of peanut butter toast and a glass of milk before he heard the front door staff quietly phone someone else asking if they had any teenagers staying at the moment. He left pretty quickly after that and walked for a while, heart pounding. The police didn’t descend on him with sirens and lights, so he was probably okay.

‘I can’t go back there.’

Later that day, Peter grimaced and took a moment to indulge in burying his face in his hands. He was overwhelmed and he still felt shitty and dirty and gross despite his shower. Maybe it was getting spotted as a homeless teen eating from the buffet? Yeah. Probably that.

He was in the library again, sitting in front of one of the older computers and hoping he'd get a reply from a potential client who had asked for some information.

Maybe it was a little weird to spend all day in the library. He was on notice for librarians acting like they wanted him to clear out, just in case.

But, assuming no one had any problems with it, why not spend most of his daylight hours there? He could study computer science, use the computers to do his work, and be somewhere temperature controlled for free. They also had pitchers of coffee and tea for free that he took advantage of.

He was hungry, though. He was always hungry. Maybe it had been a mistake to go to Kon’s house. It almost felt worse to be hungry again after eating everything he wanted two meals in a row. Peter suppressed despair. He was doing his best! He was taking care of himself.

"Is everything alright?"

Peter shot up and gave a sheepish grin to the librarian. He hadn't noticed her approaching, but he'd been lost in his head. "It's fine," he said.

The older woman gave him a sympathetic smile. "Well, let me know if there's anything I can help with. It's what I'm here for."

Oh. Before she could turn away he blurted out, "College!"

Her face lit up. "Are you applying?"

"I need to." Peter wrung his hands together. "But I don't know where to start. I want to go somewhere with a strong sciences program but I think I need to go there on scholarship."

She sat down beside him, an easy smile on her face like this was a topic that she enjoyed. “Do you care about where it is?”

Peter shook his head. “It would be best if I could stay in NYC since I know here, but I’m willing to go anywhere that meets those conditions.”

She nodded slowly. “There’s a few places I can think of.” She hesitated. “Do you expect to be eligible for testing related scholarships?”

“Yeah,” said Peter, who was so good at tests but would probably falsify the results that he needed if he didn’t manage to take tests in time. “I test well. Very well.”

“That’s great! And you said sciences? Technological sciences?” she didn’t glance at his current computer science book, but she didn’t have to.

“Yes,” he said, not entirely sure what he should be focusing on. Engineering, to build some kind of portal? Astrophysics like Dr. Foster, to find an Einstein-Rosen bridge? He’d have to get his foot in the door to figure out what was going on in the fields here. Shit, he should have looked into that already.

“And you would be looking to live by yourself, on campus? Or off? With family?”

“By myself,” Peter said, and wow that was depressing. “And whichever way is cheapest.” He cringed as he said it. That felt pathetic too. He wanted to say he wanted to live on campus since he’d be more likely to meet people that way. But honestly, he had no resources, at all. He couldn’t afford to be picky.

The librarian’s smile was a bit fixed now. “I… I almost hate to suggest it, but have you considered Gotham?” She continued before Peter had to decide whether or not he should admit he didn’t know that university. “It’s a dangerous city to live in, but it’s very affordable, and there’s extensive funding for the sciences and student support services.”

“...Because it’s a dangerous city and doesn’t get many people?” Peter confirmed.

She was doing her best to keep a poker face. “That’s right. They have a brain drain situation at the moment, so the sciences are really well funded. I think you could probably go there with full support, though that might be contingent on taking an internship or job in Gotham after graduation.”

Huh. He considered it. He’d never heard of Gotham, so it had to be a city that didn’t exist back home. But so what? How bad could it be? It was like, Chicago or something? He could handle that. He was Spiderman. He was an Avenger, sort of. So he directed a real smile at the librarian. “If I could get a full scholarship there, I would go in a heartbeat,” Peter said. “Thanks for the suggestion! I’ll look into the university there.”

The librarian patted the side of his chair as she stood up. “Wonderful! Let me know if you change your mind or have any questions!”

He ended up having a lot of questions, actually, once he started looking into Gotham, but he didn’t think, “What the frick is the vampire bat guy about?” was what she’d had in mind.

#red reassembly #marvel dc crossover #kon el kent #peter parker #dark matter inspired

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schrodingerspsycho · 3 months

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There IS a Book Club - Oneshot

Pairing - Van Palmer x Reader

Warnings - Angst and fluff, hurt/comfort, happy ending

Word Count - 1.8k

Summary - You're subscribed to a horror novel book club service, and Van finds your newest book upsetting.

Author's Note - You can imagine that this is part of the same timeline as I Just Want You To Be Happy, but this is an independent story.

Help Palestine by clicking this link!🇵🇸

The day started like any other day. You and Van had breakfast together and opened the store, Maddy came in looking for another queer movie and getting another one of Van’s lectures, and you explained what a VHS tape was to no less than three teenagers who really should have at least known about them. And then Van got the mail.

“Bills, bills, an invite to another one of Mrs. Hammond’s dinner parties we won’t be attending-”

“Hey-”

“And a new book,” Van said, waving the package for you to see.

“Oh, great! I’ve been waiting for that,” you smiled.

“You want me to open it for you?”

“Yeah, just put it on my nightstand. Thanks, babe.”

Van nodded and carried the mail up to the apartment.

You carried on with restocking the tapes and helped a customer find the movie they were looking for. It took Van a bit longer than it should have to drop off the mail, but you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until she came back down.

“So I was thinking I could pick us up some sandwiches from the deli for lunch, does that sound good to you?” you asked, but Van didn’t answer. She was staring ahead, her eyes glossy and distant. “Van? Are you okay, babe?”

“What? Yeah, no, I’m… I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” you put a hand on her shoulder, your eyes full of concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Did something happen?”

“Nope.” She gave you an unconvincing smile. “I’m good, babe. Really. And sandwiches sound great.”

“Okay,” you sighed, kissing her cheek. You knew you wouldn’t get anything else out of her. But you kept an eye on her as you continued stocking the tapes. You could always tell when something was off with Van, and something was definitely off.

Van smiled to herself as she walked up the stairs. You had complained about the last book being too short on multiple occasions, so she was glad you now had a new one to read. And while she wasn’t into horror novels, she loved hearing you recount the terrifying twists and turns of the latest chapter you had read before going to sleep. It was adorable how excited you got about stuff like this; it was honestly what made her realize she was in love with you. You had been gushing about the new book like you did every month, and something in her heart just clicked. Now she loved your Horror Hungry Book Club subscription almost as much as you did.

She wondered what kind of novel you would get this time as she decided which envelopes to trash. You had been hoping for a good mystery, and she knew you loved stories with cryptids and haunted houses. Then she went into the bedroom and tore the package open with her teeth, sliding the book out onto the sheets. But before she could move it to your nightstand she caught a glimpse of the cover.

The artwork depicted the remnants of a plane crashed in the middle of a dark forest, with a wolf standing in front of it. Its eyes were drawn to look as if they were glaring menacingly at her, and Van had to resist the urge to throw the book across the room. She turned it over slowly to read the description and was confronted with a very detailed illustration of a deer skull with bloody antlers on the back cover. Van gulped audibly as she read the blurb.

Kayla’s life was finally looking up until her plane crashed in the middle of a large forest in Montana. She and the other passengers must work together to survive in the wilderness, but they soon discover that they might not be alone. As time goes on, food, hope, and sanity grow scarce. She and the other passengers are haunted by demons from their past and present, and what was supposed to be a relaxing trip to L.A. becomes the ultimate test to see how far she’s willing to go to survive- and how much she really wants to.

Van quickly set the book down and stepped back. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and she suddenly found it very hard to breathe. She dashed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, busying herself with getting a glass of water. There was no way she was letting a book do this to her. It wasn’t her life. She might not have talked to any of the others in over a decade, but she knew none of them would talk. They had an agreement. This was just fiction, nothing more. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. There was no need to get worked up.

Van took a deep breath and headed back downstairs, doing her best to act like everything was fine. You clocked her uneasiness immediately, and she silently cursed you for being so observant. But you didn’t push, and her thoughts of the book faded as the day went on. She almost got away with it.

Almost.

Finally, you and Van were alone in your room. You had finished the workday, gone out to dinner, and watched a movie together, the whole time aching to ask Van what had happened. You hated seeing her in distress, and although she was good at hiding it, you could tell that whatever it was was still weighing on her mind. But you knew Van well enough to know that there was a waiting period before she was ready to talk about her feelings. So you decided to start your new book while you waited. The title was Call of Oblivion, and you knew it was the problem the moment you picked it up.

“Van?” you said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Is this what made you so upset earlier?”

She turned to you slowly, her eyes wide and her face slightly pale. She looked so scared and ashamed, and the sight broke your heart. “What? No.”

“Are you sure? Because I noticed that there are some… similarities.”

Van looked away. “Okay, yeah. Maybe it did feel a little… familiar.”

“I’m so sorry, baby.” You dropped the book and went to stand at her side, but she still refused to look at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m fine,” she chuckled unconvincingly.

“I wish you would’ve told me,” you sighed. “I just want to help you with things like this. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Van murmured, burying her head in your shoulder. You hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, rubbing her back. “I won’t read it if you don’t want me to.”

“What? No, I’m not going to stop you from reading your book.”

“I don’t care about the book. I care about you. If it upsets you, I won’t read it.”

“I can handle some scary pictures on the cover,” she said sarcastically.

“That’s not what I meant. I know you don’t want me to know about what happened. And this might be fiction, but it could be similar to what you went through. If the thought of me reading something like this scares you, or if you think it’ll be too similar, then I won’t read it. I promised you I would never pry about that stuff, and I meant it. Even in a way as indirect as this.”

“But that’s exactly why I want you to read it.”

“What?”

“I hate keeping secrets from you,” Van said, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I can’t stand that there is this huge part of my life that I can’t share with you. I mean, I would never want you to know- god, I don’t know what I would do if you found out- but it kills me that I can’t share everything with you. But I know I can’t. And if this book has any insight into what I went through out there, however unrelated… then I want you to read it. It might be the only way for you to get some idea of what happened. Then maybe I won’t have to hide so much anymore.”

“Oh, Van,” you breathed, pulling her into another hug. “I had no idea you felt that way. Of course, I’ll read it. But you know I don’t care about that stuff, right? You can tell me as much or as little as you want.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I know.” She pressed herself against you, and you could feel her wiping her eyes on your shirt.

“Thank you for telling me this,” you said softly as you pulled away a few moments later. Van smiled.

“Yeah, can you just not read it in bed? That fucking deer is- it’s really gross.”

“The what?”

“On the back.”

You picked up the book and turned it over, careful to block it from Van’s view. “Whoa, you’re right. That thing is gnarly,” you grimaced. Van chuckled.

“Told you.”

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be keeping that away from the bedroom,” you said, shutting it in your bedside drawer and walking back over to Van.

“Good,” she smiled, grabbing your shirt gently and tugging you in for a kiss. You pulled each other onto the bed, and soon you had all but forgotten about the book.

Over the next couple of weeks, you conveniently only read the book when Van was out of the room. She wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to do that, but truth be told she appreciated it. And you never talked about it, instead choosing to gush about the newest vintage toy you’d found and whether you wanted to display it in the store or keep it in the apartment. Thoughts of the book stayed in the back of Van’s mind, but she couldn’t fully forget about it.

Then one day as she was bringing in the groceries, she saw you stagger out of the bedroom with sorrow in your eyes. But before she could say anything you wrapped your arms around her tightly and buried your face in her neck.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” she asked, hugging you, her voice full of concern.

“Nothing,” you sighed, shaking your head slightly.

“You finished the book, didn’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you insisted, pulling away just enough to look her in the eye. “All that matters is that I love you. No matter what. Nothing could ever change that.”

Van felt tears begin to well up in her eyes and you held her to your chest, placing feather-light kisses along her scars. She closed her eyes with a sigh and leaned into your embrace. And for the first time in her life, Van felt truly safe. “I love you too.”

#van palmer x reader #van palmer #yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #fanfic #oneshot

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toyybox · 10 days

Text

Spiderwebs #32: Redmond

Masterlist

content: past starvation

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The truck stop had a store beside it. It was a warm morning, considering they were in the middle of winter. There were still not many people around. He was hungry.

The hunger came on with a violent force and speed, waking him up before the sunshine or Heather ever could. Now that Jackie had access to soup and tea and such luxuries, it seemed that his appetite had returned. His head ached, his limbs ached, his chest ached, and his guts shredded themselves into knots. It was a desire that drowned out all other wants, suffocated all thoughts, as sudden and intrusive as a bullet wound.

It was a wonder, really, how he survived this long without any proper sustenance. He could believe in gouged eyes, severed limbs, and charred skin, but surviving extreme starvation was a little ridiculous. As an esteemed biochemist once said: was he a fucking plant? That wouldn’t make any sense, either. There was no sunlight in the basement. Those pages of Oliver Twist he gnawed on couldn’t have possibly been enough. But his biology didn’t care for such intricacies. He needed to deal with it immediately, and he would suffer immensely until these demands were met.

“Heather.”

“Yes, Jackie?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d be digging my own grave. I feel like I’m gonna keel over. Or puke.” He put his head against her shoulder. “I’m starving. Can I get—I don’t know, whatever this truck stop sells. I could eat a horse right now.”

“I’ll get you something. Don't be so dramatic.” She unlocked her door. “Do you think you can walk?”

“I can walk. A little.”

“Then you’re coming with me.” Heather cleared her throat. “Listen carefully. If anybody asks, your name is Elijah Smith. You’re my boyfriend, and we’re here on holiday. Don’t talk to anybody unless prompted. Try not to look so… I don’t know, inexplicably exhausted? Try to act natural.”

“Your boyfriend?” He cocked his head to one side, grinning.

“Funny you should mention that. I actually spent a lot of time thinking about this. You could pretend to be my brother, but the problem is that I’m an only child. Any investigator with half their wits could read my files and find out we’re lying. I’m not married, either, and I’ve never been divorced, so you can’t take my hypothetical husband’s name. You could be my friend, obviously, but that would sound suspicious. We will be sleeping in the same room, after all. People think romantic relationships are more important, and I’d rather not elicit any strange looks if we check into a hotel together. Any attention is bad attention. That about covers it, I think. Oh, and I don’t think you could ever pretend to be my dad. No offense, but you barely look twenty.”

"...Oh. Okay."

“By the way, if you’re planning to yell for help, don’t bother. I’ve got a pistol in my bag.” She opened the car door. There were sounds of seagulls—were they near water?—and the distant murmur of wind, as well as the dull roar of trucks above all that. “Come on. We don’t have all day.”

He left the car as well, and managed to stand up despite the debilitating sensation in his stomach. The air was rich with the scent of lake scum and dead fish, and quite a bit warmer than the biting breeze he’d felt the night before. There were a few trucks around, and one or two cars. A stray candy wrapper crashed and stumbled across the concrete. The yellow plastic was so vivid to him. Brilliant as a sheaf of gold, catching the sunlight like a newly cut jewel. It was lovely to be outside again.

Heather took his hand, a little too tightly, and they walked into the store. A bell rang above the doorway. It was not very big, but not crowded either. Its stock was similar to a convenience store, except they also sold pastries and coffee. No tea. He hadn’t seen this much food since… well. There were no polite euphemisms for kidnapping. It was hard for Jackie to take his eyes off the strudels and croissants, even as Heather spoke to him.

“I don’t know if they have soup,” she said in a low tone. “Do you think you can eat something else?”

He nodded. “I want a muffin. Can I have a muffin?”

“Alright, I’ll buy a muffin. Go look at some hunting knives or something. Don’t leave the store, though. I’ll come over when I’m done.”

He glanced over to the aisle of hunting knives. “Why do they have so many?”

“Lord knows.” She let go of his hand.

He was left standing there, feeling rather lost in such a public space.

He could have screamed. He could have run outside and kept running until his lungs went raw, or until the police found him. But to risk losing Heather’s trust would be suicide—no, a kamikaze, considering how much was at stake for her. And he would never get that muffin. Besides, he did sympathize with her situation. It wasn’t easy being on the run. He didn’t have to make things difficult for her.

Either way, the cost of failure was too high. It was hard to forget the scars along his chest, or the burns on his skin. Escape was a pipe dream best left to rot.

The hunting knives were not particularly interesting, but they were something new, and he was always craving something new lately. They were small, curved on the edges. Used for skinning animals, he assumed. He didn’t think such a tiny knife could kill anything. But they were probably meant to be souvenirs, rather than actual tools. Some of them had little designs on the handles. There was one with the words Redmond, Washington on it, under the city’s pine tree symbol.

Redmond? We aren’t in Seattle anymore? Did Heather even live in Seattle? He had always assumed so. His old apartment was in Seattle. But it wasn’t a stretch to assume she’d gone hunting out of town, so to speak. She could have driven across the state in order to abduct her newest organ donor, even across the country. They couldn’t have reached a new state so quickly, though, so she probably still lived somewhere in Washington. Also, didn’t she have an address? Obviously. Everyone did. Why didn’t he check the address above her garage? There had to be one, but it had completely slipped his mind. I’m such an idiot. That’s why I got into this mess in the first place.

“Here’s your muffin.”

He jumped. “Shit, Heather, you could have said hello first. How do you walk so quietly?”

“You’re just zoned out half the time. You wouldn’t notice me if I came in with a tuba and a clown nose.” She gave him the muffin. In her other hand was another coffee, in a cup made out of green paper. “We can eat in the car. Come on.”

He followed her to the door. The bell rang above their heads, one last time. The birds continued to screech, somewhere unseen in the bright blue sky.

The smell of stagnant water returned, but only until they entered the car again, where it was quickly replaced by the smell of leather seats. Jackie shifted to get as comfortable as he could, while Heather tapped her fingers on the wheel.

He studied his muffin. It had chocolate chips. He hadn’t eaten chocolate in… he wasn’t sure, actually. There had been a chocolate cake, at some point. So many shiny, new things. He was a magpie in a jeweler’s house, so fascinated by all these wonders of life. Another shiny, new thing to pass the time.

He liked muffins. He wanted to eat it. Of course. Obviously. Why wouldn’t he? He was so hungry, God. He couldn’t imagine going on a strike now. He would faint first. The craving was so strong that he didn’t know how to even start. He hadn’t eaten in so long.

“What’s wrong with the food?” she asked.

“Sorry.” He kept his stare down. Didn’t Heather have a thing against apologies? Too late now, anyway. He just needed to eat. He needed to get it over with. It made him sick, rising with a feeling like nausea in his stomach. His vision came unfocused, like rows of tilting mirrors, like the world was tilting on its axis. But he couldn’t look away, or stay still any longer.

“You know what, I think I forgot something in there.” Abruptly, Heather opened the car door and stepped outside. “Don’t wait for me. Bye.”

He turned towards her, but she was already gone, and he was by himself.

He let out a short, shaky exhale. She definitely didn’t forget anything. It was surely a lie. Besides, it wasn’t like Heather to leave him unattended. She was probably watching from somewhere remote, where he couldn’t see her. But that was what mattered: he couldn’t see her, couldn’t feel her stare.

She’d done it for his sake, to give him that thin veneer of privacy. Was it guilt, or apathy? Disgust at his weakness? Or maybe even kindness, despite his better judgment.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump

#whump #whump writing #my writing #Spiderwebs toyybox #carewhumper #Truck stops are great #No road trip is complete without the chance to finally leave the car and eat a donut or something

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errielovesu · 20 days

Text

Too sweet

chapter 1 of my first oc fanfiction, please be nice to be I cringe too don't worry, be sure to read the prologue for some extra context or something and yeah enjoy :3 (not proof read im too lazy)

cw/tw: none as of now

Besides beer himeno is a sucker for strawberry milk and maybe banana milk, usually one or the other is in stock but this time had to be my lucky day when none of them are in stock and now i'm not sure what i'm going to fill the fridge with now since we can't just only have beer in there, frustrated I head to the checkout counter and pay for the pain au chocolat that i've always had since I was a child, casually I walk myself back to me and himeno’s apartment, it's around 10 am and she's probably still asleep.

Yesterday everyone in division 4 went out for drinks, rare thing now a days but himeno wanted an excuse to not drink alone or with me since apparently, lately i've just been quiet maybe that's why himeno took me out to drink, it was nothing out the ordinary just so light drinking for me and just having mindless conversation with the other members. As I approach the elevator to get up to my floor I spot a familiar face. “Val-len-tine!!!” Power’s voice echoes through the lobby as she runs at full speed towards my direction she quickly gets ahold of my arm and squeezes me, clear that someone did not want to cook breakfast for the hungry girl, Denji approaches with caution since Power dislikes him talking to me, “Hey valentine, the evil man over there told us no breakfast from him because me and power stayed up playing cards and he couldn’t get his beauty sleep” denji exclaims, looking into powers eye she nods and points at the tall “evil” man that did not cook them a breakfast, I walk towards him as he looks anywhere but my direction.

“Hey aki..” I poke him on the shoulder, “did you not get your beauty sleeep?” I continue the joke, still not even a look from the man, power snarks at him, “Lets just go up to your apartment and you can make me a delicious breakfast, i'm starving hereeeeeeeee” power squeals, I sigh and nod in agreement, “You're welcome to join too by the way aki…ill let you use the balcony, yeah?” usually I wouldn’t dare let him near the balcony or himeno, I told them if they needed to smoke to do it somewhere else because I couldn’t stand my plants dying, aki looks back, making eye contact with me then power, he slowly starts walking towards the elevator, “I think I just convinced him to stop being evil power” I chuckle.

Opening the door to the apartment, denji and power scurry like rats into the couch and bean bag in the living room, I set my bag down at the kitchen and head to wake up the sleeping himeno herself, knocking softly on the door I call out her name and after a few russels and groans she's up, “You better wear something to cover yourself or no food for you” knowing she will not obey my instruction she walks out in whatever she passed out with. The tv is on, the apartment is loud and warm. “Powers plate is on the left, the rest of you can sit wherever you want” I slightly demand with my voice, everyone surrounds the table and aki is nowhere to be found but of course one glance to the right and he is right on the balcony just admiring the totally interesting sky, I get up from my seat and walk over to the sliding doors that enclose the balcony, sliding them gently and stepping over and sliding the door shut behind me. “I did your job, could you finish now and have something to eat?” He glances my direction, I can barely look at him because its so bright outside, squinting my eyes I ask him to come in, he throws the cigarette out the window, “before you sit down though, can you wash your hands? I can barely stand the smell on himeno when we eat I don't need you to add on to her please” I ask with a bit of sarcasm on my face, Aki never gives me any reactions when I speak, sometimes I hate speaking to him, it feels like i'm speaking to a wall that thinks im stupid or something. “I got it.” Finally a response comes out of his mouth, I motion towards the table and slide the door open again.

Today is rather quiet, it's about noon now and everyone is doing their own thing around the apartment, himeno and aki are talking, and i'm over here babysitting power and denji. “You know she doesnt like boys, stop trying to talk to her” power sticks her tongue out at denji, “why is this always a discussion with you two? Denji doesnt even talk to me because you scare him away power, look at where he's sitting right now power” I laugh as denji is a good 2 feet away from me, powers attachment to me makes me happy, she's sweet and funny when she isn't doing anything for personal gain and her cat likes me so she automatically likes me more because of meowy.

“Val, we need to start heading out soon, please kick them out I don't want to do it myself” Himeno says walking towards her room, I stand up and sigh, “well you heard her, you guys also have things to do so please make her happy” I start walking the duo towards the door, aki follows behind me as I open the door for power and denji to walk out, I move to the side to give aki a chance to leave as well, as hes walking out he looks at me, weird, he's just staring me down like he wants to say something, “Thanks.” That's it? It took him that long to utter the word thanks? I dislike non aggressive aki…it's hard to speak to him when he's giving me auto generated response, “anytime, but don’t think ill let you smoke near my plants again” I smile at him, he starts walking towards the elevator where denji is waving goodbye to me and power is just intensely looking at him, waving back I close the door and head to change myself.

Himeno and I headout the house and embark on whatever Ms.Makima has planned for us and it'll always end with himeno complaining, either way it's the job we have to do so she’ll shut up eventually. Himeno opens the door for me to enter Makimas office, “Hello, valentine.” makima said to me, greeting himeno next. “I've been alerted about a demon with a piece of the gun devil is roaming around Shinjuku station, it's unknown what type of demon it is, if you could go and patrol that area to give everyone peace of mind it would be appreciated.” Quickly me and himeno leave to head to our destination, and soon the complaining will start. “Shinjuku? Really the most populated place we could go to, I hate her stupid assignments, its always some low level slime sucking devil!” I just let her take it out, we shortly started heading towards a train to take us.

Arriving at Shinjuku station I'm quickly distracted by the thousands of stores I could be exploring but sadly I'll have to focus on finding the devil disturbing, me and himeno walk the streets up and down just patrolling with nothing to be found. Me and himeno stop for some lunch, i'm not really interested in eating anything so I just had a drink while with fascination I watch her eat the burger she bought, wondering what this day is gonna lead us to.

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thru-the-grapevine · 2 years

Text

Ramen

No meet cutes in this household. Only meet stupids.

Pairing: Wooyoung x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1883

Genre: Stupid. Also fluff.

Wooyoung’s entrance into your life was about as dramatic as the rest of him. You were intending to have a completely normal Tuesday afternoon, eagerly looking forward to stocking up on ice cream and ramen to treat yourself at home.

However, the grocery store had other ideas. Inside was crowded, noisy, and far too chaotic for your taste. But the ice cream was calling. Steeling your nerves, you dashed inside, and the battle began.

Shoving aside high schoolers and elderly folks alike, you made a beeline for the freezer section in the back of the store. There, to your dismay, the section supposed to be containing your favorite ice cream was painfully empty. All the other sections were full to bursting, but yours was gone. Abandoned by your sweet treat, you then jostled your way over to the ramen section. Surely your luck couldn’t be so bad as to find your favorite ramen out of stock too, right?

As if the heavens themselves wanted to brag about how kind they were to you, a single ray of sunshine fell gently upon the last box of your ramen. Tears in your eyes, you shoved some college kids away and reached a trembling hand out to grab the food.

Only for it to be snatched away by another hand.

Horrified, you looked up at your new sworn enemy. A man around your age grinned cheekily at you. “Oops, did you want this?” he asked, his tone not the least bit apologetic.

You huffed. “Yes, actually. I was in the middle of taking it off the shelf when you took it from me,” you said, holding your hand out for him to return your precious goods.

The man had the audacity to instead shake your hand cheerfully. “Oh, guess you were too slow!” he practically sang.

Something inside you snapped. You grabbed the box and tried yanking it out of the man’s hand.

“Hey!” he cried, indignant.

When his grip wouldn’t loosen, you stomped your foot down on his toes. With a yelp of pain, he let go of the box. You snatched it and dashed away. Throwing money at the cashier with a, “You can keep the change!”

Then you made a clean getaway down the street where your apartment building stood, waiting to welcome you into its air-conditioned arms. Without bothering to see if the man was following you or not, you flung yourself inside and jammed the elevator button, all the while keeping your ramen cradled close to you.

Turns out, you probably should’ve been paying attention to see if anyone was following you. The elevator doors didn’t even have the chance to close when the obnoxious man from the store hurled himself inside next to you.

Fear flooded through you. Was he really that serious about a box of ramen? Was he here for revenge on you for stomping on his toes? What if he was actually a serial killer?!

“You better make some damn good ramen,” he said.

“Huh?” You stared at him.

“I’m pretty sure you broke at least one of my toes, so you’re compensating me by making me ramen,” he said, a very annoying grin sliding onto his stupid, handsome face.

“Absolutely not,” you deadpanned.

And to your shock, the man pouted. “Aw, why not?” he whined. “I’m hungry! And you took my ramen!”

“It was never your ramen to begin with! And if you’re hungry, go to a restaurant! Not my apartment!” you shrieked as the elevator doors slid open on your floor.

“Your apartment is closer,” he said, trailing after you like a lost puppy. “Plus no one there will be as cute as you.”

You froze. Is he… flirting?! You whirled around, eyes narrowed. “Whatever you want from me, you can’t have it! Now leave before I call apartment security on you!”

Sulking, the man made his way back to the elevator, dragging his feet. The last thing you saw of him was his pouty face.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you hurried to your apartment, unlocking it, and dashing inside. Now safe, you looked at the slightly tattered box of ramen in your hands. “You better be worth it,” you mumbled.

Over a week passed, and the event soon became a silly memory, something you could giggle about to yourself when it crossed your mind. You almost felt bad for the man. Maybe he really did just want some ramen…

Pushing that ridiculous thought out of your mind, you brought your focus back to the matter at hand. You and your friends were out for a night at your favorite bar, celebrating a friend’s birthday.

You watched as the birthday girl did four shots in a row, laughing as she stumbled onto the dance floor to make an absolute fool of herself. You were glad she was having fun.

Sipping your drink, your eyes wandered the bar. Stopping at the person sitting next to you. A man you didn’t know was staring very intently at you. Chills ran down your spine, but you kept up a polite facade, giving him a nod and looking away.

The strange man did not get the hint. They never do. Instead, he scooted closer to you and started trying to hit on you. You wondered if he’d ever done such a thing before in his entire life.

“Hey baby, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

No. No, he’s definitely new to this.

You smiled politely and said, “I’m not interested in dating right now, thanks.”

The man, as men are wont to do, decided that was an insult to him personally. “You slut, who says I wanted to date you?”��

You resisted the urge to sass him back, and called the bartender for your tab. Enough was enough. The birthday girl was in the laps of three men and two women (good for her). You wouldn’t be missed.

Grumbling, the man watched you pay through narrowed eyes. You spared him no extra glance as you made your way out of the bar.

The cool night air felt amazing after the drinks and the heat of the bar. You sighed happily. Tomorrow was Saturday, which meant no work, which meant you could sleep in as long as you felt.

A swing in your step, you decided to walk home since the weather was nice, and your shoes weren’t killing your feet for once.

People passed by you in a blur, laughing or talking on their phones, each with their own lives, their own stories. You paid them no mind as you hummed to yourself, admiring the new streetlights the city put in recently.

Perhaps, if you’d been paying better attention, you would have noticed the man stalking carefully behind you. Maybe you would have noticed the way his eyes held only malice.

But you didn’t.

Instead you noticed the cute couples on their way home from dinner. And the street vendors trying to pawn their wares off on anyone who would spare them a glance.

You made the turn, just a block away from home, down a quiet residential street. A hand reached out and grabbed your arm, yanking you backwards. You yelped and tried not to fall over, turning around to come face to face with your “admirer” from the bar.

Fear pushed through you in an instant. The man’s grab was strong, though he himself seemed a bit wobbly. Still, you tried pulling away from him, only to receive a snarl. “Don’t think so,” he sneered.

You wanted to scream, call out for help, cry, do something, but instead your throat closed up on itself. Feeling helpless you let yourself go limp, becoming a deadweight.

The man grunted, trying to pull you up. As he bent over, you watched, absolutely flabbergasted, as a foot came flying out of nowhere. It kicked the man square in the jaw, definitely breaking something, and knocked him over.

His grip gone, you scrambled up. Your jaw all but dropped when you faced your savior. The Ramen Man.

“Don’t touch her,” he snarled. “She owes me ramen.”

“Oh my god, would you drop that,” you said, all the fear leaving you to be replaced by annoyance.

“What? But I just saved you! You’re welcome, by the way,” the Ramen Man winked at you.

“Which I appreciate. That doesn’t mean I owe you anything,” you said, turning around and marching off.

Ramen Man quickly caught up. “Ok, yes, you don’t owe me anything, fine. But I still left a man lying on the road for you,” he said, hope in his pretty brown eyes.

“That you did,” you said simply.

“Wow, you’re stubborn.”

“So are you.”

“. . . Fair point.”

The two of you reached your apartment building. You punched in the code and walked inside, holding the door open. Ramen Man stared at you. You stared back.

With a sigh, you said, “Fine. At least tell me your name before I invite you inside to make you ramen as a thank you for saving me.”

“Wooyoung. Are you really gonna make me ramen?”

“Yes, Wooyoung,” you emphasized every syllable of his name, “now hurry up before bugs get in, and the apartment manager yells at me.”

He scuttled inside after you, the biggest, dumbest grin on his face. “What about you?”

You told him your name and he repeated it. You pointedly ignored the thrill that went through you at the way he said your name. It was absolutely nothing at all.

Arriving at your apartment, you apologized for the mess, but Wooyoung almost didn’t seem to hear you. He bounced around, commenting happily on the art you hung on your walls and the cute stuffed animals you kept on your couch.

Blushing at the attention, you waved him off and hurried to the kitchen to put the water on the stove. Wooyoung joined you, rummaging through your fridge to find some veggies. Without a word to you, he began expertly chopping them up with the knife he found.

Absolutely befuddled that he was good at chopping vegetables, you turned your attention to the ramen you now plopped in the boiling water. You would have preferred he be utterly useless. Now your stomach had butterflies, and it was quickly growing more difficult to ignore your silly brain and its silly emotions.

The two of you made small talk, learning small things about each other while the ramen and veggies cooked. Wooyoung leaned against the counter, looking weirdly like a model or something. It was very distracting.

When the ramen was ready, Wooyoung spooned everything into two bowls, and you grabbed a bottle of soju from the cabinet. Popping the bottle open, you poured a glass for each of you.

Wooyoung grinned. “Cheers to ramen!” he yelled, downing the soju in one shot.

You couldn’t help but laugh and follow suit.

The ramen tasted yummier than usual. You swore it was because Wooyoung chopped veggies for it, something you were usually too lazy to attempt. Wooyoung swore it was because “an absolute cutie made it special for me!”.

Either way, as you saw Wooyoung out, he slipped you a piece of paper with his number. “Wanna do this again next week? My place? I’ll even get you flowers for our second date.”

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