#+ having to constantly hear the dryer every time it gets used

[happi-dreams]

the more i think about emmet under the dryer the sadder i get

[hurtspideyparker]

The Avengers as High School Friend Group Archetypes

Tony Stark: Mentally ill friend. Made too many suicide jokes so his friends forced him into therapy. Flakes out on plans a lot. Either has a God complex or the worst self-esteem known to humankind. Freaks everyone out when he texts goodbye in the gc without context (he's just going on a business trip)

Bucky Barnes: Black cat. Hisses at everyone but Steve. Great at holding his boundaries but comes off aloof. Nobody is sure if he actually likes them but would secretly kill for all his friends. Hides in shadows and jumpscares everyone with his lurking. Secretly naps on Sam's bed when no one's looking

Steve Rogers: Mom friend. Always has granola bars, Tylenol, and a Tide to Go on him. Organizes the group hangouts and reminds everyone when they have a dentist appointment. Everyone's parents love him, "you can go if Steve's going" vibe. Constantly getting his friends out of trouble (secretly encourages them). His romantic life is a disaster

Thor Odinson: Gym bro. Eats eggs, chicken and rice everyday. Forces his friends to join him in the gym and comments about them not eating enough protein. Genuinely cares for their health, will get them out of bed for food and fresh air when they're sad. Goes through protein powder like Tony went through cocaine in the 80s

Peter Parker: Annoying little brother. Someone's mom definitely made them bring him to the big kid hangout. Everyone bullies him but he doesn't realize it, he just likes the attention from the cool older kids. Sam and Bucky hold him upside down from his ankles till he gets dizzy and Steve makes them put him down. Everyone is super protective of him when he's outside the friend group (hey, only we get to be mean to him)

Sam Wilson: Therapist friend. Gets way too many texts at 3 am. Extremely emotionally mature but laughs at fart jokes. Knows everyone's trauma and will use it against them if provoked. Strangers randomly vent to him in public. Gentle parents adults when they're upset. Nobody ever asks him how he is

Natasha Romanoff: Man hater. All her best friends are men and none of them are actually sure if she's joking about hating them. Mean but never takes things too far. Flirts constantly because she thinks it's funny but is really awkward and bad at it when she genuinely likes someone. Hates when someone treats her like a man / "one of the bros", wishes she had more female friends

Bruce Banner: Bad luck friend. Can not catch a break. Everytime they hear from him something new has gone wrong in his life. His dog threw up on his bed, his computer broke before a huge deadline, his favourite sweater shrunk in the dryer. Just a disaster of a human. Constantly has some minor injury, from inexplicable bruises to a sprained wrist. Never having a good day but tries to remain positive. Anxious

Clint Barton: Class clown. Will make a fool of himself in front of every pretty girl in his vicinity. Is actually only funny half the time, the other half he's just loudly wrong. Confidence is key for him. Can charm and talk his way out of anything. Will make everyone laugh at the worst moments. Women reject him because he has a girl best friend

Wanda Maximoff: Boy crazy. Is ready to talk about her crush, boyfriend, or situationship at any given moment. Is never single for longer than a month. Will not take shit from a man and makes sure her and her friends are treated properly. Surprisingly good at balancing her friendships and relationships, doesn't neglect people. Has Pinterest boards for her wedding, dream home, and decor. Wants to be a stay at home mom. Big Swiftie and went to the Eras Tour

Pietro Maximoff: Unemployed friend. Always doing the most random thing on a Tuesday morning. One day he's kayaking in British Columbia, the next he's joined an MLM scam. He has a new cat? He adopted him from Istanbul on that trip no one knows about. He's drinking fresh lemonade? He actually volunteers with disabled elderly and Doris gives him lemons from her tree. Knows how to cook a turkey. Unclear if he's homeless or not, usually sleeping on a friend's couch or at a random woman's place (still on the couch)

[hannahssimblr]

At the house, I am conscious of the mess. Nobody has made an effort to clean up properly for weeks, and now dishes and miscellaneous bits of rubbish litter every available surface. The bins are full. Tangles of chargers and cables pile up on the table, and water damage has well and truly set in on the oak flooring under our feet. The same patch of floor that Evie’s hair is dripping on now, but while it’s too late to save it, she might as well add to it. 

“Wow, this is a beautiful house,” she says, and I have to check her face to see if she’s taking the piss out of me. She looks genuinely charmed. I frown.  

“I’ll get you a towel downstairs.”

As we descend to the living room, I find myself holding my breath. It seems even dirtier than the kitchen there, and I wonder how and when this happened, how it is even possible. Yet here we are, and it is. I pray there are clean towels, at least let there be clean towels…

Oh, thank God. 

I hand her one from the hot press. It is old and scratchy, and likely a victim of my mother, back when she used to dye her hair at home, evidenced by the big, bleached patches all over it, but at least it’s clean. I show her the bathroom. 

“Feel free to take a shower if you want to. The water is hot.” As it constantly is, because I turned it on at the beginning of the summer and found the system so complex that I never risked turning it off again. I’ll be hearing about it when my dad gets the bill, but that’s an issue for September. 

Evie peeks in. “You don’t want to go first?”

“No, go ahead.”

As soon as I hear the hum of the shower, I pounce into action and tear into my bedroom. I yank all the dirty clothes off the floor and fire them into my already heaving hamper, then kick a pair of shoes under the bed, followed by a mucky football and some art magazine Jen thought I’d like, but I never read.

There are chocolate wrappers on the floor. What kind of creature am I? Was I sitting on the floor at some point, feasting on a family packet of dairy milk bars, or did these just fall out of my pockets? I rush around, picking them all up, then reach the wastepaper basket to find it full. I curse under my breath and yank the bag out, tying it in a hasty knot, then carry it and the two handfuls of coffee mugs strewn about the place up to the kitchen. There is nowhere for them to go, so I shove the mugs into the sink and toss the bag on the floor. 

She’s showering for ages. Good. 

Next, I tackle the bed, straightening out the duvet and pillows, which are, mercifully, clean. I could tongue-kiss the past version of myself that ran them through the wash two days before. To make extra sure, I give them a good, long sniff. They still smell like detergent. The clean clothes from that same wash go from the armchair to the wardrobe, and books on the bedside table. The tennis racquets… they’ll be fine, leaning against the wall. When I step back and examine my work, I determine that it’s barely passable, but time is surely running out, and she can’t shower forever. The dust on the floor can stay another day. 

Lastly, I toss my sweaty clothes onto the pile and peel off my sodden shorts. Once I have changed into something clean, I carry all the laundry out and heave it into the washing machine, right by the door of the bathroom. Evie hums tunelessly in the shower, and for a moment or two, I stand and listen. I wonder whose shower gel she is using, and shiver inexplicably at the idea of her choosing mine. 

I arrange myself in a casual position when she comes back into the room, hanging out on the end of the bed. She’s rosy from the hot water, and her hair lies flat against her head, so straight and fine that her ears poke out the sides. 

“You don’t have to wear the same wet t-shirt,” I inform her. “I can put your clothes in the dryer.”

She pulls at the hem and looks down at those two, damp, triangular patches. “It’s okay,” she shrugs. “They’ll dry on me.”

“You can leave all your wet stuff on the floor. I’ll sort them out after my shower and I’ll just find you something else to wear.”

“But I won’t fit in your clothes.”

“You’ll fit in a t-shirt, won’t you?” I saunter over to my wardrobe and lift a t-shirt from the stack. It’s old, and has a hole in the armpit, hence it’s permanent relegation to the beach house wardrobe, but like everything else in this house in its current state, it will suffice. 

“Thanks,” she says. I leave her to change and head for the shower. 

“What are you looking at?”

She jumps and turns around. I’ve caught her nosing around and looking at my notice board. She points at it. “Your ticket to a music festival.”

I hesitate, trying to gauge whether Claire has blabbed to her about what I said or not. “Oh yeah, are you coming?”

“I don’t know.”

“You should. All of us are heading up to it.” I pull a pair of socks out of a drawer and plonk myself onto the bed to put them on. 

She sits with me. “I’m not sure. It’s kind of a bit complicated.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” she hesitates before deciding to divulge. “Kelly and Claire are in a big fight about it. Claire wants to go, and Kelly doesn’t want to, even though it’s Claire’s eighteenth birthday the same weekend. It’s… it’s all a bit silly if I’m honest.”

I frown. “She doesn’t want to celebrate her friends’ birthday in a fun way?”

“No, it’s more than that. It’s that she doesn’t want to hang out with Shane for the whole weekend. She’d be too embarrassed to. She’s weird about that kind of thing.”

I should proceed with caution. I say, “sounds a little selfish to me.”

“Kelly’s a complicated person. I think she means well, she just… isn’t great at expressing herself. She gets angry at people instead of telling them how she feels in a normal way.”

I could talk a lot of shit about Kelly Healy, but I‘ll save it. I know that teenage girls’ friendships are strange and nuanced in ways my brain will never fully comprehend. Things never seem to be simple enough to just end the friendship. It must drag on for eternity until one of them is irreparably damaged in its wake. “So what, she’s forbidden you both from going to the festival?”

“She hasn’t said that we’re forbidden.”

“But you’re not going because you think she’ll be angry with you.”

“Pretty much.”

“So what about Claire? It’s her birthday.”

She groans. “I know. I hate this. I hate when people are fighting, and I feel like I’m in the middle of it. I don’t know what the right decision is.”

Tell me about it. “The thing that you want to do more, that’s the right decision.”

“I knew you’d say something like that.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Something wise.”

I laugh. If only I could take my own advice. 

She heaves out a sigh and slumps over her knees. “I can’t talk to either of them about it. Kelly is impossible, and Claire hasn’t been around. I’ve barely seen her at all since they fought. I don’t even know where she’s been.”

I blink. “Oh, she’s been here.”

“What?”

“Yeah! I thought you knew. She’s been coming here every day for ages.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“And did she tell you why?”

“No, I didn’t ask. I thought it was just to hang out with Shane.”

“With Shane?” She straightens to look into my face and I grin.

“Yeah, they’ve been hanging out.”

“Go ’way.”

“I don’t know exactly what’s happening, but they hang out a lot, go for walks together and watch TV in the living room. I usually just leave them alone, but…” I tap my nose.

“Oh, I knew it!” She throws herself back on to her elbows and shakes her head. “I wonder what this is going to mean for Kelly.”

“Kelly can grow up. She doesn’t have a say.”

“Ugh. I know. It’s just impossible not to worry about it.”

“Evie, how often do you let that girl live inside your head? Forget about it. Let Shane and Claire deal with her.”

“Okay, I’ll try.”

It’s not lost on me, the juxtaposition between this conversation and the one I had with Alison this morning. These two girls are only a year apart in age, and yet somehow their lives oppose so diametrically. Am I the same boy with them both, or have I somehow split in two? How can I be worrying about Alison and all that she’s been through, while hours later coaching Evie through friend drama? I know the turmoil and stress is real for her. I can tell by the things her face is doing, how she nibbles on her lip, the way her brow furrows, but I am comforted by it, by how simple it is. Maybe it would be good for my soul to spend more time with Evie. 

Regardless, I move on from this specific theme and bring the conversation back to where it began. “And as for the festival, I think you should come.”

“Hm.”

“Will you?” She doesn’t answer, so I assume she hasn’t heard me. I nudge her. “I want you to come. Will you come?”

“You want me to?” She echoes, like she doesn’t exactly believe it.

“I do.”

“Okay then.”

Perhaps someone else would find it worthwhile to read into the fact that she seems to want to do everything that I do, but I’m not really that bothered. I’m just glad that she agreed for the sake of herself. I suspect it may be a rarity for her. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter [2]

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

May I request headcanons for Eddie waking up from a nightmare and needing comfort/cuddles from his partner?

of course my love!!

and sorry that this is so long 😅 i got a little excited about it and just kept writing 😂

Since the whole incident that happened in the upside down, Eddie has had the worst time sleeping

He can’t stand the dark, he’s incredibly paranoid from the slightest noises, and don’t even get me started on how terrifying it is for him when there’s a rainstorm outside

You know how traumatic it was for him, and you never ask him about it either

His scars and responses tell you all that you need to know about how much it’s affected him

Normally, the two of you would have perfectly quiet evenings together in bed

However, there would be certain times where Eddie couldn’t help the dreams he’d have…

Constant memories of what happened to him, remembering how terrified he was no matter how brave he looked to everyone else

He was so scared

After he was out of the hospital, his nightmares were constant, happening almost every single night

He’d be trembling, wanting to keep the covers over his head but too scared to be in the dark, hyperventilating as his tears flowed down onto the pillow beneath his head

And you were the only person who was able to help calm him down

It had been a while since his last nightmare, only a few weeks or so, and you were hoping this this meant that they were coming to a stop

Unfortunately that was before you found out there was supposed to be a rainstorm all night

You were laying fast asleep before being suddenly woken up by a light shake of your shoulder

You groaned and were quite upset with Eddie for ruining your sleep but as soon as you saw the state he was in you knew exactly what you needed to do

His cheeks were red and his eyes were bloodshot from the tears, his hair was a mess from trying to use his pillow to drown out the thunder and lightening, and his lips were nearly bleeding from his anxious biting

He could barely even talk, only whimpers and scared whispers as he tried to explain himself for waking you up but he was struggling to even get the words out

You quickly shushed him, pulling him close into you and petting his hair back as his head rested on your chest

His arms carefully snaked their way around your waist to hold you back as he tried to steady his breathing but the hyperventilating picked up once more when he heard a loud crash of thunder from outside

You could feel his tears starting to soak through your shirt and with one hand you covered his other ear to keep him from hearing the thunder, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt

You slowly rocked him back and forth to help calm him down, keeping him held close as you sweetly shushed him

“Shh, it’s ok baby, i’m right here. I’m not going to let anything hurt you anymore, i promise.”

All Eddie could do was nod his head to show you he was listening

You leaned yourself down and brushed his bangs back from his forehead, placing a gentle kiss onto it before slowly holding his cheeks and moving his head away from your chest

You held his cheeks and carefully rubbed your thumbs over them, the soft skin slightly damp from his tears and you made sure to wipe away each one that slipped down as you held him

Whenever he was like this you had an entire routine to do to make sure that he was completely at ease

You’d get out of bed and turn on the bedroom lights, keeping the door open as Eddie stayed in bed to make sure he could still hear that you were there with him

You had to constantly be giving him a narration of everything you were doing so he knew that you were alright

You’d make him a warm drink in the kitchen, hot chocolate, tea, apple cider, anything that you could find to help warm him up, even grabbing one of the soft blankets from the hall closet and popping it into the dryer to warm it up for him

You’d bring him back his blanket and his drink and tuck him into bed as you set the room up

Thick blankets over the windows to help muffle the sounds of the rain and thunder, a soft nightlight plugged into every outlet, one of his fantasy movies on the TV to keep him distracted from his thoughts before turning the lights out and climbing into bed with him

He’d snuggle into you while sipping his drink as you watched the movie together, holding him close while waiting for him to fall back asleep

But tonight was different than the other nights

You knew that Eddie needed to slowly learn how to handle this on his own, and as much as you wanted to take care of him when he was like this you knew that you might not always be around to help him

“We’re going to do this together, ok?”

He sniffled and nodded, knowing that this was something he needed to do

He was still so scared of everything around him, every light, every shadow, every sound, but he knew that this was something he needed to learn how to do

He needed to show how brave he could be, even though he felt like he wasn’t

You moved the covers and got out of bed and quickly turned the bedroom lights on for Eddie, reaching your hand out for him to take as he got out of bed, still trembling

“I’m going to keep holding your hand so you know you’re ok, just do what i tell you to do ok? Can you do that for me?”

He nodded and gripped your hand in his as you slowly made your way into the short hallway of the trailer

Every time he heard the rain come down a bit harder or he heard a noise he wasn’t used to he squeezed your hand in fear, just wanting it to end

You made sure to still do your narrating, telling him every single thing that was happening around you

“We’re just going to walk down the hall to get your drink and your blanket.”

“It’s only a few steps and then we’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Those taps are just the rain hitting the paneling baby, i promise there’s no bats anywhere.”

You took baby steps with Eddie, stopping once the two of your reached the kitchen

You squeezed his hand gently in yours and looked up to him

“You’re going to help me ok? Did you want to get your drink or your blanket?”

It took him a moment to get the words out, but he took a deep breath and looked to you and softly let his hand fall free from yours

“Blanket.”

He still spoke so quietly, like he was making sure that even though it was just you two at home that no matter what you were the only person that could hear him

“Ok baby, you can do the blanket, i’ll get your drink for you. They’re in the hall closet, just put it in the dryer for a few minutes, i’m going to make your hot chocolate. I’ll be in the kitchen the whole time, i promise.”

He nodded slowly and though you could see that he was still trembling as he slowly stepped down the hall, he was making sure to keep his breathing steady

You checked back on him every few moments as you grabbed all the things from the different cabinets to make his hot chocolate

His favorite mug, a pot, some milk and the hot chocolate mix from the pantry

You even decided to make this one a little special and put a few Hershey’s squares into the milk as you heated it on the stove

“Eddie, talk to me baby, are you still alright by yourself?”

You called out to him from your spot at the stove as you slowly poured the milk into his mug and stirred the mix in

You glanced over your shoulder and smiled as you saw him standing near the hall, his warm blanket draped over his shoulders like it was a cape

“My blanket finished…”

You smiled and walked over to him, giving him a gentle kiss and nuzzling into the warmth of the blanket

“And you did it all by yourself too! Why don’t you go wait in bed and pick out your movie ok? I’ll be there in just a second with your drink.”

He nodded and gave you a quick kiss to your temple before heading back down the hall into his bedroom, glancing back every few moments to see if you were still there

You grabbed his warm mug from the counter and followed him into your bedroom, smiling as you saw him snuggled up in bed underneath his blanket

You handed him the mug and he took a few sips before you shut the door behind you, looking at the edge of the bed and smiling when you saw the movie he picked out for the night

“You wanna watch Who Framed Roger Rabbit?”

Eddie nodded and took another sip from his mug as you popped the tape into the VCR

You made sure to check all the outlets for the nightlights and switched them on before finally shutting out the light and slipping back under the covers

You looked over to Eddie, his mug in his hands, all bundled up under his warm blanket, his eyes were fixed onto the screen and the littlest smile was on his lips

Like he was a child again, when Wayne used to help him get back into bed after one of his nightmares and let him stay up a little later to watch a movie

You leaned over and rested your head onto his shoulder, still hearing the light rain tapping the windows but you knew it was finally off Eddie’s mind

You knew he was going to be alright

[weirdoldstans]

Stan awoke to the sound of the ancient washer being run…again. He huffed, rolling over in his bed to cover his ears. How was this machine so loud that it always woke him up even with his hearing aid out?

Every night it seemed for the past two weeks someone ran the washer and dryer at ungodly hours of the night. The niblings said it wasn't them, and Stan believed them for the most part but that would mean the person running it was Ford.

Sure, Ford could be a complete jerk sometimes but he wasn't inconsiderate. While he was fine with pushing his limits, he knew the others in the house needed actual sleep. But if it wasn't Dipper or Mabel, it had to be his twin.

With a growl Stan rolled from bed, taking a moment to crack his back then left his bedroom to find just who the mystery washer was.

If it was Dipper or Mabel, he wouldn't be too upset, most likely someone wet their bed. They're kids, it happens, even at thirteen but he could see why the young teens would be embarrassed and lie about it.

Up in the attic, Stan pushed open the door and both kids were sound asleep, sheets still tucked tight on their beds, Dipper curled in a tiny ball and Mabel nearly hanging off the edge with Waddles taking up residence on her pillow.

Okay, there's no way they could start the washer then be back in bed and be sound asleep by the time he got up here.

That meant.

Ugh, of course, his brother. Probably running some stupid experiment. Stan could picture it. Let's see how quickly I can get my twin to deck me from lack of sleep! Conclusion: two weeks and a sore jaw.

Headed down to the laundry room he peeked in and saw Ford standing at the washer, a nervous look on his face.

“Alright, what's with the late night washin’?” Ford jumped nearly a foot in the air at Stan's sudden entrance. 

“Stanley!” Ford blushed, adjusting his glasses nervously. “Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I, uhh, just needed to do some laundry. Keep forgetting to do some.” He grinned and rubbed the back of his head. “You can head back to bed, I've got it handled.”

Stan lifted an eyebrow. “Ford, I love ya, I really do, but yer a terrible liar.” 

Ford pouted. “I'm not lying.” Crossing his arms he looked away, fighting off a blush. “I really did need to do a load of laundry.”

“Every night though? Do ya only got one set of clothes?”

“No…I…”He hesitated. The washer stopped and Stan lifted the lid. Inside was only pants, like all of Ford's pants.

“What? Why only yer pants? Do ya piss yerself constantly?” Ford didn't reply, he only squirmed in one spot, refusing to meet Stan's eye. “Oh my God.” Stan chuckled. “You do!”

“Shut up!” Ford spluttered, red faced. “I just get caught up in my research and forget to go pee every now and again!” Stan shook his head mirthfully before moving to switch the laundry over.

“Ah, it's okay Stanford. Yer gettin’ old like me, things happen. Look, I got some adult diapers you can use.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah. Ain't nothing fancy, but they get the job done.” Stan stopped for a moment to lift his shirt slightly to show off what sat just under his boxers. 

Ford bent and looked closer. “Stanley, those have ducks on them.”

“Mhmm.” Stan replied, letting his shirt drop and setting the dryer. “Yep, these are more geared towards adult babies, but they get the job done and feel way better than anything actually meant for adults. I'll help set ya up, come on to my room.”

And that is what started Stan on his current mission. Ford, of course had been embarrassed, hated them at first and actually protested wearing them, but after a solid week of not pissing himself constantly he accepted the diapers, and Stan's help with changing them.

Which led to Stan delivering several solid blows to Ford’s exposed nude backside when he saw his brother wasn't coming to him for a change when needed, leading to a wicked rash. After Stan insisted on spreading cream on every available spot possible each time he changed his twin. 

Ford only laid there, embarrassment burning his cheeks, as tears from the spanking leaked out from the corners of his eyes. 

They quickly dried though when Stan kissed the front of his new dry diaper when they were done.

Alright, one issue handled. On to the next. Each time Stan saw his brother with a bad habit, he got him something better to replace it. Several pacifiers to replace his pen chewing habit, sippies and bottles to handle his disorganized and clumsy nature to keep another electrical fire from happening when he spilled his coffee. 

Honestly, Stan didn't mind. He liked helping his bro out. He liked feeling like his big brother needed him.

And boy, did he need him. Badly. 

One evening, after not seeing Ford for a few hours Stan made his way down to the basement, Ford still hard at work with some kind of science-y nerd stuff.

Stan grumbled as he grabbed at Ford's crotch, feeling how soaked he was. “Ford, darlin’, ya need to start paying attention to when this gets too full. I don't wanna have to spank you again for not comin’ to me for a change.”

Ford stood frozen, staring down at his lab work, eyes glazed over and a furious blush creeping up his neck.

“Ford?” Stan asked. His brother popped his pacifier out and looked over. That blush now dotting his cheeks a beautiful crimson.

“I…I just realized…I've been standing here, in a diaper covered in lions, sucking on a pacifier with Daddy's boy decorated on the front, and drinking pitt cola from a sippy cup with Elmo on it.”

“Actually that's the cookie monster.” Stan replied. Ford slammed said sippy down on the desk, lip quivering.

“How has it taken me this long to realize you've slowly been turning me into a baby Stanley?!”

Ah. So that was the problem. Stan shrugged, leaning against the desk. “It's not a problem sixer, you've been busy with her experiments and whatnot. I've just been helping you out.”

“By babying me?!” Ford failed, tears tracking down his red face. He gestured to his clothes, his pacifier hung at his chest by a clip, his usual turtleneck was now one of Mabel's sweaters she made for him featuring a cartoon dog and he'd just been working in his diaper and some fuzzy socks.

“Well, I'm replacin’ yer nasty habits for better ones.” Stan purred, moving to cup his brother again. “Ya won't listen to yer body when ya need to pee, so diaper. Ya chew on yer pens so much ya make the ink reservoir burst into your mouth, so pacifier. You complained that ya spill yer drinks often, so sippy.”

Ford's blush grew almost radioactive as Stan pressed their bodies together. “Nothin’ wrong with needin’ a bit of help baby.” He looked down and smirked. “There's also nothing wrong with likin’ too.” Ford's hard on strained against his hand, and even as he squirmed and wiggled in Stan's grasp he never made the move to pull away.

“Stan-Stanley.” Ford whimpered, hips stuttering as he pressed his wet diaper into the heat of Stan’s palm.

“Dontcha worry baby boy, Daddy's got ya. Come on, let's get you changed into a clean one, and I'll help ya out with this while I do it.”

Ford bit his lip, apprehension swirling in his chocolate eyes until finally. “Y-yes, daddy.”

Stan smirked. And to think, he had complained about waking up to that damn washer when it had led to such fun.

YEAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

ANON I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. I NEED TO GO TO WORK BUT ALL I WANNA DO IS SIT HERE AND TELL YOU HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS

FORDDD MY CUTE BABY…

[firstelevens]

11 from the fanfic situations prompt list for sambucky maybe?

we now return to our regularly scheduled programming of extremely specific AU concepts spun wildly out of hand

11. hiding from pursuers

"Hey, I'm gonna go take a look at the truck; it's been making a weird–"

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky sees a door open and then a hand clamps over his mouth and cuts him off before he’s pulled into a dark, small space. As the door clicks shut behind him, Bucky finds himself bodied up against what feels like shelves, with a very warm someone pressed to his front.

The hand moves away from his mouth and the smell of their detergent lets him know that they’re in the upstairs linen closet.

“Honey,” he says, as soon as he can talk, “I know you find the mechanic thing hot, but we can’t have a quickie in here; neither one of us is as limber as we used to be and that door does not lock.”

It’s dark, but he can still feel the unimpressed look that Sam is giving him.

“What?” he asks. “Don’t pretend you didn’t think about it.”

“Some of us have better things to do,” hisses Sam.

“Like drag our husbands into dark closets when they’re just trying to be good communicators?”

Sam shushes him and puts a finger against Bucky’s lips this time for emphasis. Bucky can’t help but kiss it, and in the tiny sliver of light coming through the door, he sees Sam smile. 

“We’re playing hide and seek,” Sam whispers.

“And you chose to hide here?” asks Bucky. “Freddie’s gonna find you in like, ten seconds. She’s never done anything slow in her life and you picked the easiest hiding spot.”

But Sam shakes his head. “Freddie’s not the seeker.”

Bucky’s eyes go wide. “And you’re telling me you pulled me in here when I could be filming this?”

“You were gonna give me away!”

“Unbelievable,” Bucky hisses.

He’s sure that Sam has a comeback ready, but then they hear the sound of tiny footsteps headed their way and they simultaneously shush each other.

“Dada?” comes a tiny voice, getting closer. “Dada, you here?”

There’s a quiet gasp from just outside, and Bucky’s sure that the door is about to open, but then there’s the soft thump of a very tiny someone sitting down, and the rustling of fabric that must be from the laundry basket that Bucky left by the closet.

“What’s he doing?” whispers Sam, trying to peer through the slats in the door.

“I just pulled a bunch of laundry out of the dryer,” murmurs Bucky. “And Woof was there, too, after his little adventure at the park.”

Woof is a plush wolf toy who’s constantly getting dragged into predicaments that threaten to permanently alter his gray and white fur. Sam and Bucky have gotten countless stain removal tips from every parent in the parish, and so far they’ve all worked, but Bucky is convinced that one of these days, there’s going to be a grape juice incident that they just can’t come back from.

After a particularly bad dive into a puddle at the park, Woof had needed two days of stain removal, and bedtime had been a full on nightmare because of it. It’s no surprise that a reunion would so completely sidetrack an otherwise very cute game.

There’s a full conversation with Woof happening right outside the door, and Bucky turns his glare on Sam. “When your mom asks why she didn’t get to see this, I’m going to make it very clear that it’s because you were scared a two year old would find your hiding place!”

“Please, you know he’s gonna do like twenty more adorable things between now and dinner.”

“You think we’ll be out of here by dinner?” hisses Bucky, and gets his answer not from Sam, but from the door at the end of the hallway.

“Riley,” says an exasperated Freddie, with all the patience that an eight year old can muster. “We were playing hide and seek, remember?”

“Look, Freddie!” calls Riley, although he hasn’t quite mastered the F sound, so it comes out a lot closer to Weddie. “Woof!”

“Yeah, that’s Woof,” says Freddie. “Maybe Woof can help us find Daddy.”

Riley gasps. “Dada?”

“Uh-huh,” Freddie says. “Dada’s hiding, remember? I bet he’s pretty close.”

They can’t see a whole lot through the slats, but it’s impossible to miss the knowing look that Freddie throws towards the linen closet.

“Atta girl, Freddie,” whispers Bucky, and promptly has his mouth covered again. That’s fair. Given the sigh that Freddie lets out, he might not have been as quiet as he thought he was.

“I know you want to play with Woof, Riley, but we gotta find Daddy first. If we don’t he might think we forgot him, and then he’ll be sad.”

“Dada sad?”

“He will be if we don’t find him.”

This seems to move Riley, because he gets up again—as he does, Woof collides with what Bucky can only assume is the bookshelf—and walks right past the closet as he calls out for Sam again.

There’s a sigh from Freddie as she follows him down the hallway with another significant look at the linen closet. “Okay, Riley, let’s check their room again.”

Riley’s giggles carry down the hallway, and Sam drops his head to rest in the crook of Bucky’s neck.

“We did a pretty good job, huh?” he asks quietly.

“We did,” whispers Bucky, his hand settling at the small of Sam’s back. “Now if she could just stay a third grader forever, because I’ve seen her ride her bike, and I am not ready for her to be behind the wheel anytime soon.”

Sam laughs out loud at that, apparently forgetting the entire reason that they’re here, and instantly, they hear Riley’s faraway voice excitedly call out, “Dada!”

He hurries down the hall, Freddie behind him reminding him to slow down, and this time when he comes to a stop in front of the closet, he’s facing the doors.

“Dada?” he asks again.

“Uh, nope!” Sam replies, in a high pitched voice, as silly as he can make it. “No Dadas here! None at all!”

The door opens, bright sunlight filtering in, and a giggling Riley calls out, “Dada! Papa!”

He hugs them both around the legs, and Sam is immediately hauling Riley up in his arms. “You found us, Bug! Good job!”

Beside them, Freddie gives Bucky a knowing look, and Bucky winks at her.

Sam kisses Riley on the head, then does the same for Woof when he’s presented. “You took a little detour to find Woof, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” says Riley, clutching Woof close. “With Freddie.”

“Freddie’s a really good big sister, huh, rybka?” asks Bucky.

Riley nods vigorously, and Freddie smiles proudly. “Thank you, Riley,” she says. “You’re a good baby brother.”

“Not a baby!” declares Riley, his eyebrows immediately settling into the same scowl that every grouchy Barnes has worn over the years.

In response, Freddie lets out a sigh that is pure teenager, giving her dads the most exasperated look in the world. Before she can start arguing—a gift she inherited in equal measure from both Sam and Bucky, and has honed on her own from the minute she learned the word no—Bucky steps out of the linen closet, holding his hand out to her.

“Come on, Honeybee; let’s go make some lunch.”

For a moment, Freddie narrows her eyes, and Bucky can see the calculations happening in her head. Beside them, Riley is pouting while Sam very gently explains that Freddie just meant she was bigger than him, and that’s okay.

There’s a long moment where she’s quiet before she sighs again and turns to face Riley one more time. “I’m sorry, Bug. I didn’t mean it.”

Riley takes some coaxing from Sam before he tells her that it’s okay, and Freddie looks more than a little frustrated. It’s been a long time since Sam and Bucky needed to speak to coordinate strategies with each other, and with one look, Sam turns and takes Riley down the hallway while Bucky kneels down in front of Freddie.

“Thank you for being so patient,” he tells her in Russian, because it’s always delighted her to have a secret language for just the two of them. “I know it’s not easy.”

“It’s okay, Papa,” she says, then switches back to English. “Do we have bagels?”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. “I think we’ve got some in the freezer from Aunt Becca’s last visit,” he says. “Why?”

Freddie shrugs. “Can we make pizza bagels?”

“Honeybee, you’re a girl after my own heart,” laughs Bucky. He pulls her close and plants a smacking kiss on the side of her head, grinning when it makes her giggle. “Pizza bagels it is.”

“Pizza bagels!” Freddie cries out again, and giggles as Bucky echoes her battle cry all the way down the stairs.

[nathank77]

9/26/24

3:53 p.m

My mom is all drugged up on benzos at the hospital. I haven't went and seen her yet. I've been on reily patrol. I mean she just got here. She whines a lot. She wants attention constantly. She's good but she's in tune with our emotions I think. I think she knows that my mom is sick. I think she knows i have anxiety.

Sometimes when I cook and use the bathroom and want me time she leaves me alone. Other times she's like a rocket to my door when I come out.

She just Peed on the floor. Skyes gf is cleaning it. My mom is still there and idk what to do.

I saved 2 pairs of shoes. It was really hard.... like really super hard tbh.... I had to use tooth picks and toilet paper and clorox clean ups... it was fucking awful.

I had one more pair of medical grade gloves and I used it to clean them. The ones with Poop up near the sock area are still lost. I can't do it..... the poop amount is ridiculous..... and I ran out of cleaning supplies..... but even still small doses cause those are the worst...

I used the gloves to bleach the rugs from the floor... I put them in the washer and used a ton of bleach.... that's all I'm doing...

I cleaned my pan and Spatula with a knife and soap bc I cant touch the sponge cause of my mom... it's not really clean..... I did the best I could...

I can't do anymore. Cleaning the poop was terrible... fucking awful. Pure panic. And I mean.... I still got two more shoes...

I still got the sweat pants I can't wash unless I take the rugs out and dry them and bleach the washer with burning hot water and then wash my pants... I might wash them with the poison ivy containined gloves and sweat pants which are- from the little dog sniffs causes she was in every bush...... but I'm not doing it today.

People don't get how exhausting this all is for me... one piece of poop landing on me and I'd wash it 26 times in a row.

I mean it's really fucking hard...

If I was in a normal environment I could get better and cope... I'm still worried about shit being on my leg but it wasn't visible... so I mean there is that....

I do got to wash the sweat pants. If my mom ever gets home and gets more clorox I may clean the shoes under the radar bc this is the problem...

When you have ocd. People don't understand I can't do that. They hear I don't want to do that.... so id I share what I've been doing then they'll go you're over it... nope I'm not. I'm being forced into this god awful situation. And I'm trying my best to adapt... I'm not over it. I can't is a real thing. Not I don't want to.

I want to take a mop and clean the entire floor bc there is dried poop EVERYWHERE. I want to move her rugs to the dryer and bleach the washer.

I want to use the sponge and wash my pan and spatula. I want to do all of that.

I CANT BC OCD IS LIKE A PHOBIA OF EVERYTHING. Mike said calling it a phobia was an understatement with how complexed it is and how living in constant fear of everything it is. He does actually get it..

So I didn't tell them I cleaned the shoes. I did tell her I moved the rugs into the washer and used bleach with my medical gloves my last pair and that that's all I can do.

I can't tell them I cleaned poop cause then I've recovered. I'm not fucking recovered. I'm trying not to saw my leg off and rip my skin off.

The anxiety I have is pure fear and it's like I want to actually Rip my skin off and it's all baby steps. And one thing going wrong turns into pure panic attacks and screaming. I'm not recovered but I'm trying and I got to get out of this environment.

My sister is sick... and now I'm wearing a mask around the house. Skyes gf was like why are you wearing a mask? I said bc skye is sick... like ocd is super real. I'm always going to wear a mask around the house if someone is sick.

Anyways I'm worried about my mom and this bad infection she has... and I'm worried about reily and all the dried poop. I still got to attend therapy tonight and brush my teeth and I ate so late I was starving. Like I love reily I don't want to give her up. But I will for her health.

I want to get over everything but I can't just get over it.

[lavender-teardroplettes]

Can we get some Alan x Si hcs?

MAN I love Alan!! I'm going to have to separate it a bit since he's a fun yan to think about both in game and in other universes!

In Game

I made Si a human in this one!

Alan's probably been watching Si since he moved to Doomsbury. Not right away of course, but definitely sometime within the first week. Si would have scouted the woods nearby out of curiosity and to know if he needed to bear proof his new home. He lived in the mountains as a kid and was a scout, so he's a little more knowledgeable than just going in blind. It wasn't one his smartest decisions to go for a night hike and he 100% thought he was going to end up as fuel for the next slasher b-movie when he first met Alan.

Does Alan set off alarm bells in his head? Yes. Is he more curious about the weird hatchet man to really listen to them? Also yes. Si's also the type to give people multiple chances once he gets attached to them and Alan takes FULL advantage of that. All Alan has to is look at Si with those sad, lonely eyes, pet his cheeks, and be a little desperate for him to not go and it EATS at Si's guilty conscious. Of course, the more deranged side makes Si nervous, but he easily gets swept in Alan's emotions and his head tends to spin once Alan starts kissing him.

Despite not being an animal person this time around, the feral pred/prey side of things excites Si just as much as it does Alan despite Si being more of the quiet and shy type. At first it's a fun thing between them, but when Alan's yan tendances and territorial side get turned on to Stu or Erika, Si has to separate the two and calm Alan down...which turns into them snogging and Si scolding Alan about it later. He would tell the others an excuse, but they're starting to get worried by then.

Alan, when not working, it constantly stalking Si and watching him from the forest when he's home. He's stolen some of his clothes (underwear) while he was away and has sometimes replaced them with things he'd want to see Si wearing. Si does get confused about it, but he's been blaming the dryer or figuring he must have missed it while unpacking. He still needs to finish unpacking actually, but with school, underlining depression, and meeting Alan, he'd kinda been avoiding it.

Si loves Alan's pet raccoons and is always delighted that he gets to play with them. He 100% gives them cotton candy just to recreate that one video of a raccoon trying to wash it.

Si should really be questioning why his sleep suddenly started getting better once he moved to Doomsbury. He used to have insomnia, but lately it seems like he'll just get tired out of nowhere. Maybe then he'd hear Alan sneaking into his room every night.

Nooow for the not so fun stuff- Alan would kidnap Si once Erika or Stu got serious in warning Si about Alan. He'd do it in the middle of the night while Si was asleep, then spend the whole night pacing trying to come up with what to say after he ties Si down. Si would wake up horrified and try to scream and bite Alan's hand when it covers his mouth, but that just fuels Alan more. It would end in Si sobbing in Alan's chest after he brings Si to bed and they're both exhausted.

There might be a search party, but Alan lives too deep in the woods and there's too many traps at a certain point for people to continue safely and it gets called off. Erika and Stu keep searching however, and the closer they get the more Alan just wants to kill them where they stand. That would cause more attention, however, so he does his best to naturally scare them away without them seeing him. If they make it to the cabin however- that's a different story...

Wolf!Au (I'm silly for this one hehe)

Deer!Si x Wolf!Alan

Stu, his mom, and his sister help protect Si's herd. It's a weird sort of happening since Stu met Si when they were young but the herd doesn't really question it since it's a mutually beneficial relationship. This also gives Si a disadvantage when he meets Alan because his first instinct isn't to run when he hears what sounds like Stu coming to his little nap grove. (I have an old doodle about it lol)

Of course it's another case of Alan watching Si for a while and making sure none of the other wolverines were around him for this to happen. Alan just barely gets out that the reason he's here was to claim Si as a mate, but Stu interrupts the meeting once he notices Alan's smell. The herd isn't really sure what to do now that there's a wolf in their area and Stu's family admits that they can't protect all of them if Alan was able to sneak in without Stu noticing since he's almost ALWAYS around Si. The only reason he wasn't that day was because he was looking for flowers to put in Si's hair.

Much to Stu's dismay, Si goes out to seek Alan to try and reason with him...and ask what he meant about being mates. Alan immediately takes it as Si saying yes, but Si manages to convince Alan to leave his herd alone if Si visits him in the nights. Alan still takes this a a win, stating that he'd play by his herd's silly courting rituals he had seen Stu practice for Si (hence why Stu was looking for flowers in the first place). Stu HATES smelling Alan on Si and both of them are now in a battle for who Si decides to stay with. Alan has a bit of an advantage there solely in the fact that he's a threat to the herd and Stu's afraid of Si sacrificing himself for the greater good.

Alan, like in game canon, likes to chase Si around but it's on a deeper level. Si's still coming to terms with how much he likes it when Alan catches him and looks down at him like a true predator and the way his heart skips a beat when he earns a playful bite to his neck/shoulder.

I've been wanting to piece together things for the cult!au but I'm a lil stumped in what exactly I wanna do with it. There is the fun of Si being brought into the cult and being drugged and brainwashed....but there's something even MORE fun about Si being born and brought up in the cult and still being Alan's chosen partner.

UT!Alan and Si would have met in college, Alan would probably be the one to ask Si out. They're just a couple of weirdos with an on going butt slapping war- Alan's winning sheerly by sneak attacks. I see Si becoming a wildlife vet while Alan...hm...probably would mix in the ranger AU and have him be a ranger in a national park area. It would be cute and Alan could still have raccoons as pets. uwu

[motherhoodministry]

Lack of alignment moment

I've created this blog to not only promote my Pregnancy Journal but also reveal true vulnerability that a pregnant woman endures. I felt that the best way to fully show that is through healing through my prenatal journal and through the power of words. During emotional times I tend to shy away due to my own struggle with my vulnerabilities as a mom. I can no longer hide that part of myself if I am to fully show what I want my prenatal journal to assist with.

Today was a tough day. I've been having many tough days, lately. Normally, I am pretty optimistic about my life. I stand by my choices, and I have allowed my path of healing to be an example to women that I've encountered in my life to be a testimony.

I work on the weekends, along with 2 days out of the work week. I work 10-hour days which can be long for a pregnant mom in her late 30s. I leave in the morning, and I don't make it back until the night. I endure this schedule because I make more money on the weekends and at night. I work for my dream employer with awesome benefits, an awesome manager, and an awesome work environment. With these blessings I also have heavy struggles. I don't have a car, so I use rider share apps to get to work which does cost me. I don't have a washer and dryer so i visit the laundry mat twice a month, which entails picking up heavy laundry bags and bending over and backwards to go sometimes at 4 am before work to make this happen. I broke my phone recently so I am stuck with an iPhone that only works on Wi-Fi so when I do go places, I am constantly praying they have Wi-Fi so I can make it back home. Also, I constantly deal with people cancelling rides on me bc it's such a hassle to get on to my work campus, so I'm usually not able to get home until after about a hour after I get off work.

When I get off work, I LONG to see my babies. I really wish I could work from home around my beautiful loving babies. So it seems like every weekend I'm in tears because I am waddling/running out to the parking garage, so I don't miss my Lyft ride because I have to use the Wi-Fi at work and when I leave the main building it cuts off. So, I have to hurry to get down 5 floors to make sure I meet my ride in time. (In the past, I have missed rides, was charged a partial payment for missing a ride, or just standing out there waiting not knowing they have cancelled on me).

Since I don't have a phone, I have to communicate with my teenager through email. His iPhone stopped working, so I have to count him using my laptop to check my email to email me back. Well today he never emailed me back. So at work I had to pray that everything was ok. I prayed all the way home that my babies weren't hurt, or something happened as to why he never replied to my email. Found out that he just never checked it, but I also found out that someone left a metal bowl on the stove and turned it on. So, the food ended up burnt on the bowl which could have led to a fire. Mind you I just came home with feet swollen and overall exhaustion to hear that they could have burned down the apartment if they didn't find the burnt smell. So all this did was reconfirm that I need to hire a Sitter for my kids because my immature, teenager may not be able to watch them effectively. Especially since no one could tell me, who turned the stove on? Which leads to my thoughts of lack. Lack of financial resources to hire someone. Lack of financial resources to get a car. Lack of financial resources to buy furniture of the home. Lack of financial resources to buy baby things for my newborn once he gets here. Just overall LACK.

In the middle of me cooking I began to break down and cry. I don't like my babies witnessing me breaking down, so I rushed to my room and just dropped to the floor and cried. I thought ' Life shouldn't be this hard for me'. I understand that nothing is perfect, but I've been struggling to maintain my faith in the universe without feeling like I'm being punished for something. I am doing so much to create a better life for my babies and I but there is so much resistance and contrast. All I could do is cry out the words ' Why?'.....

As I'm crying, I feel even worse because I can feel that Elo has stopped moving. He hears me bawling into my hands. All I can think about is how tired I am and that once I stop crying, I must pull myself together make my babies dinner. Even when I'm breaking down I still have to make sure I get back up to keep going. For my babies, I will keep going because they deserve so much more than what I struggling to provide. Eventually, I stopped, wiped my face, prayed, and walked into the kitchen and made spaghetti for my babies. My younger two, came in and hugged me. Rawlo told me " Mommy I will always be on your side" and my baby girl, Peaches, told me " I love you Mommy". The most precious words any mom need to hear after feeling like a failure.

I am sharing this moment to show that within the pregnancy journal there are spaces to just BE. Even when being is at a lower frequency than I would like. There are many pregnant women today who are working while creating life but all we want to do is rest, love on our babies and just nest our home. There are many pregnant women who are alone, with no protection or provision from a partner. With no comfort from their mother or grandmother. Just out here, vulnerable, sensitive and susceptible to so many different energies and hardships. I am more determined today to be a healing light for those and for myself. Because we are in need of it the most.

[chocodollxren]

Do you have more soft hcs for Grim? I saw a cat spa video and now i'm obsessed with the idea of Grim and MC doing that for fun

absolutely!! that is an amazing video i love it so much. grim and mc having a familiar bond is just one of my favourite things ever so thank you so much for the request! @dexpairs-blog <3 here’s your gyokuro tea! ended up falling asleep and binging these, there’s nothing better than someone who loves their animals and treat them right!!! also this is like… totally not inspired by what i want to do or have done to my cats. aha, just saying though if you have time, heating up your clothes in the dryer before wearing them feels relaxing. may i offer you THIS in return? because this would also 100% be yuu and grim, where ace constantly tries to pick up grim and and the void kitten growls in return his lil ferocious meow. the boys just break into ramshackle and see yuu reading grim bedtime stories. yuu brings grim to monstro lounge carried like a baby getting a cat-coffee.

𓄹 ❥ 𝘊𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘱𝘢❦ 𝘎𝘳𝘪𝘮,,

-> teahouse ,, menu ! order up ” guestlist ! ꒱·˚ ,, #O4.18.22🍵 ˖˚˳⊹ 'ּ໋݊◵

summary: after a tough day, not causing any trouble, at least, Grim gets his favorite Friday reward of being pampered by his one and only henchmen! what do they do, and how much does he purr? gn!mc with no tw.

throughout the whole day, Grim was smiling with an extra spring in his step. he caused no trouble, paid attention in class, and didn’t even run away because tonight was Friday, the day where you’d finally treat him like the world’s greatest sorcerer that he was. although he’d prefer it nightly, you promised as his henchmen that on every other Friday, if he managed to pay attention and not get in trouble the whole day, you’d pamper him for his good behavior. a win-win for you and Grim, who both equally enjoyed the activity.

as the two of you arrived in Ramshackle, you barely put down your bag as you Grim begun demanding your attention. laughing, you scratch under his neck gently, while scooping him up in one arm and going into the laundry room, turning the dryer on for a quick spin, making sure to gently rock him in one arm with the tiniest of pets, walking to the kitchen and using the free hand to reach into the fridge. thank you for the fish, Kalim. however, it will all be eaten in one setting, with how much Grim ate usually.

taking out the high quality tuna and sardines, you careful put him down as he looked at you with giant baby eyes, watching your every move as you hummed, playing soft music on your phone while putting on your “kiss the cat guardian” apron, and begun to cook the tuna and sardine for him, slicing, frying, and adding the vegetable oil, a few seasonings in the mix, mainly salt and lemon with the tiniest bit of pepper. while keeping an eye on the pan, you pull out a second chopping board and wash your hands to not cross-contaminate and begin cutting celery and onions, putting them onto a bowl as you scoop out some yogurt, before making sure to flip the fish, and resuming the plating. quietly, you grate a block of cheese, more the better, and put into a separate bowl. finally, you grab the bell peppers and cut them up in half, before focusing back on frying.

you couldn’t make anything elaborate, but stuffed bell peppers were enough to satisfy Grim, for now. you could hear him salivating and found your efforts rewarding, he was singing praises as he saw you mix the ingredients together, the fish, yogurt, onions, and celery before putting them into the peppers, topping it up with cheese, putting it in the oven for a few minutes to melt it and make sure everything was thoroughly cooked. as soon as the oven rang, the song playing finished and you pulled out your heatproof-mittens, reaching in and feeling the heat of the oven on your face, followed by the smell of the fish and pepper. you’d accepted your dorm would always smell like fish, you’d thought while picking up the kitten and placing him on a tall chair by the counter. smiling, you momentarily watch him eat before cleaning up, loading the dishes in the dishwasher and scrubbing your hands clean before getting your bag.

while he’s being fed, you set up your bedroom. he’d always sleep cuddling against you, and whenever you’d finish he’d be fast asleep, so you’d decided to hold it there. your bag of materials laid spread on the bed, still plenty of room for the two of you, as you went to the laundry room. there you picked up the blanket which finished a few minutes ago, piping hot and warm enough to cuddle, and carried it to the bedroom and made a small nest the size of Grim to lay in. you’d original got him a separate blanket for when you stayed up late studying to seek warmth under, but seems like the thick blanket found a better use. blanket, pillows, an array of brushes, trimming scissors, face masks, cucumbers, and a bit of rose-oil you’d diluted in water and stored away, to help with making Grim both smell good and help with hardened fur.

making your way back to the kitchen, you see your little cat was nearly done and made your way to a cabinet, reaching for two larger cups, spoiling yourselves as you boil water, and heat up a cup of milk in the microwave. taking out a packet, you shook it and tore and gently tipped the powder into the milk fateful to not spill, getting a small stir to ensure the top to bottom was touching the powder to make a sweetened milk chocolate. inside your fridge, you shook the can and added whip cream, and found the gummy bears, marshmallows, and caramel dripper and put it aside to clean up. once your water finished boiling, Grim finished and you gave him his cup, ushering him to the room before placing the plate underwater to not crust from spilt yogurt, and made your tea. pretty and sweet honey, with a dash of sour lemon juice, mixed and stirred with a hint of ginger for that spice, making a mouthwatering tea that took you no more than a few moments to make. placing a mint atop, you had quite frankly, made a great and calming tea that tasted as though a teamaster made it, such perfection.

happily, you carried your beverage and a premade meal in the fridge to your room, knowing full well you wouldn’t be leaving after he falls asleep on your lap and softly purrs, forcing your leg to cramp for the next ten hours straight. upon entering, you see your cat snuggled up to the blanket, stomach exposed, cucumbers on his eyes and ready to relax. laughing, you set your dinner down on a bedside table barely in reach and climbed atop the bed, making your way towards the blanket, putting your thighs under, starting with the oil.

rubbing your hands thoroughly with it, you made sure he was ready one more time before starting with his face, rubbing your fingers against his cheeks, neither rough nor feathery-light. you make your way from the insides to out, as he purrs in satisfaction. as you make your way down to his chin, you make your way from the very edge of the chin, before stopping and oiling up again as he meows in unhappiness. sighing at how impatient he is, you being to massage under his chin spending a good few minutes there, feeling his purrs against your fingertips before they cramp lightly and your body tells you to move to the next part already.

starting from the area around the cucumbers, you move in to out and back on his forehead while lightly pressing your thumbs, then begun to rub circles, and move further back to the top of his head, dabbing a few more drops of oil and massaging the sweet-smelling scent into his fur. making your way to his neck, you begin to press down a bit more and rub. putting pressure on your thumbs, you aim for the centre on his neck as the other fingers have a grip on his shoulders to help relax him as he feels his tense muscles loosen, despite being a cat.

you had become an expert on cats. slowly making your way down his sides, unable to reach his back and all the way up. you continue for nearly ten minutes before going for his upper paws and giving small squishes and examining how they’d need to be trimmed before massaging those while his leg twitches and reminds you to do the other neglected paws. you refrain from tugging at his tail and give his ears a few gentle rubs, not too much cause of fire, before looking through your brushes.

perfect, you’d thought before grabbing a cat comb and begun to groom his cheeks and under his chin and dabbing a few more rose-oil drops on the comb. that was more than enough, you’d thought while putting away the oil to not overuse the precious material you’d need during your next spa day reward for him.

you’d started with his stomach and made your way by the sides and begun to make sure his fur were straight and with any loose ends you’d hold the comb there and use the scissors to quickly snip away the unkept fur. this process was fun but tedious as you were meticulous about the white fur patch above his already soft fur looking as pristine as possible. making your way to his paws, you place your materials down and cover his face with the face mask, and trim the fur around and begin to file his nails with permission, to ensure he doesn’t lose or scratch someone or especially you when asleep.

you made sure to file, and not clip, just as you’d do to your nails to ensure they were perfect and not weird, and wondered how such a strong, or well, how such a prideful cat was already snoring on your lap as you polished his nails for him, considering he’d always bragged about being the world’s greatest sorcerer alive, despite only using fire magic, and called you his henchmen. actually, perhaps you were a mindless henchmen at this point, you’d thought while gathering the loose fur, remembering the cat brush and glaring at your dresser and stretching your body to the limits every lazy person has passed to get both your tea and the glove barely within reach.

taking a few sips, you’d ended up drinking the entire cup much to your dismay and begun brushing him down to gather loose fur clumps while gently setting your cup down adding a mental reminder to clean that when he wakes up and you are free to move again, rather than step on your tea cup again and earn a circle bruise underneath your foot from that trap cup who was a tea in fine-china clothing.

you never grew tire of seeing the pure amount of fur he shed, and just how much you genuinely inhaled on a daily basis while sleeping at this point, before putting your clump corner in your bag to not let the wind from a hole somewhere like in the roof to send it flying, a previous mistake of your’s you learned through plenty trial and error attempts of spa attempts.

shaking your head you rub your hands lightly and begin to massage him one last time for a good half hour before taking both the cucumbers and his face mask off and proceeding to stare at your premade meal on the counter, you gently fall back against the bed and call it night and text Ace to bring you that treacherous enemy of your’s you call a meal five feet away, under the guise of you needing him for an emergency.

✎ ˎˊ- "chocodollxren" [choco - doll - rhen] ˖˚˳⊹ 'ּ໋݊◵ dn repost. likes/comments/reblogs appreciated; not required. so long as you enjoyed the content.

[absolutepokemontrash]

happy 666! I really want to see some of the brothers arguing over how to 'properly' load the dishwasher / wash clothes / bag groceries / some other mundane thing that most people don't bother having an opinion about (but I do lol) if you're into it! if not, that's cool have a great day and congratulations anyway!! 🎉

👀 I love this- 

Lucifer

Lucifer knows he shouldn’t be getting into arguments with Levi about how to load the trunk of the car but this is getting ridiculous!

No Levi! You cannot just fit the bags in by size and shape, that bag has eggs it can’t be at the bottom- shit.

This argument happens every single time Lucifer gets the groceries and Levi is forced to come, all because Levi wants to play Tetris and doesn’t realize that Lucifer’s way of loading the car is 100% superior no questions asked.

MC needs to back him up. MC? MCCCC? He’s waiting.

Whatever. No one go near him when he’s stocking the fridge. He’ll kill someone if they put something in the wrong drawer or shelf.

What a drama king 🙄

Mammon

This man does not vacuum correctly according to Satan and it drives him insane.

Mammon’s obviously doing it right though because he’s vacuuming and… leaving.

All he needs to do is vacuum, alright?! He even went under the couch that time! What do ya mean he needs sweep before and then mop after?!

Apparently according to Satan, cleaning the entire living room does not just mean straightening some baubles and vacuuming. He needs to dust the surfaces too apparently.

He’s going to try and pawn off his duties on whatever poor sap next walks through the door- oh! Human! Hold this vacuum!

Only good thing about cleanin’ is that he might find some cool things to swipe- Ah shit hi Lucifer-

Leviathan:

With how meticulous Levi is when he cleans and sanitizes his figurines and other anime merch, one would expect him to be well versed in the side effects of improper air circulation when dealing with cleaning supplies.

But NOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

No no no no no, when Levi cleans the bathroom, the door stays closed. This really worries Beel.

Beel is constantly telling him, “the fumes of the cleaning supplies will make you sick :( keep the door open.” But Levi hates the idea of being perceived, so he keeps it closed.

To Beel, all the windows, vents, and doors need to be open during cleaning time. To Levi, he’d rather suffocate because he accidentally mixed chemicals and made chlorine gas.

He may die, but it’s whatever. The bathroom is still getting cleaned! Sure, some of the fumes got in his eyes and now his eyelids are grossly swelled up, but he’s not going to give Beel a victory.

Satan

Asmo is supposed to be separating the darks and the lights! What the hell is he doing?!

Satan is constantly nagging everyone to separate their clothes, but I guess everyone just wants their lights to get stained in the dryer or whatever the fuck happens when you don’t separate the colours!

Asmo makes a snide remark about how Lucifer said the same thing, and Satan seriously debates jumping ship and joining Team Don’t Separate.

He decides against it and continues to nag, he nags to the point of Asmo throwing up his hands and walking away, leaving the laundry to Satan.

Great… nagging wins him an extra chore… wooooooooooo…

Asmodeus

Everything has its own place and everything needs to be neat and tidy! Asmo’s attitude on cleanliness makes Mammon want to pitch over and hurl.

Asmo’s tried just everything to get his scummy big brother to keep his room clean, but Mammon claims that it is clean.

Ugh! News flash! Knowing where everything is does not make it clean!

Asmo’s tried the Marie Kondo thing, but apparently everything Mammon owns sparks joy, so nothing got tossed out.

Tsk, Asmo’s going to have an aneurism if he needs to take another look into Mammon’s stupid, smelly, gross, disorganized, disgusting, awful-

*several minutes later*

-Tasteless, brain dead, room!

Beelzebub

But Asmo… this is how Beel does dishes… he licks them clean… what do you mean that’s unsanitary?

Oh shit Beel just swallowed a fork- maybe Asmo has a point here.

Thing is, after hearing Asmo’s concerns about germs, Beel legitimately tries to not lick the plates but, there’s food residue on there! He can’t just let that go to waste!

Mmmm… food residue…

It gets to the point to where the entire house decided that Beel should not be trusted to do the dishes. The possibility of Beel getting everyone sick was just too strong…

Beel is sad to lose one of the chores he was really good at :( the rest of the house sure as wasn’t.

Belphegor

Bro TF? He doesn’t do things. And this gets everyone on his case.

“Belphie, why haven’t you done your chores?�� “Belphie, why haven’t you unloaded the dishwasher?” “Belphie, why haven’t you vacuumed your bedroom?” “Belphie why haven’t you gotten off the couch in four days?”

You know, the usual shit.

Belphie is a necessary part of the household ecosystem because everyone needs to gang up on someone to feel like more of a team, and for once the scapegoat isn’t Mammon.

At least Mammon vacuums… Belphie just looks at the vacuum and tries to use the force.

It never works by the way.

With his little sibling privileges though, he rarely gets punished for shirking his duties… the little shit.

——————

This was actually super fun to do, thanks for requesting!!

[sparkles-and-trash]

If you want, how about a drabble for Dabihawks with 11 from b?

note: I'm so happy someone asked for some Dabihawks!! my babies <3

11. Their reaction to their romantic interest being in the hospital

Dabi when Hawks is the injured one: (not dating yet, before the fallout between them)

When Dabi hears about Hawks being in the hospital, he doesn't even give it a second thought.

The silly bird always bounces back quickly, Dabi has even seen it for himself. There's nothing to worry about.

Not that Dabi cares either way.

But when a few days without any words from the bird turns into a week, Dabi feels an unwelcome twinge of worry in his chest.

He does a little digging, and to his horror, he finds out Hawks still hasn't regained consciousness.

He decides to sneak into the hospital, just to be sure the League hasn't lost their high value spy and all that, and the sight in front of him makes him feel like he could throw up.

The Hero is still covered in bandages head to toe, his face blue and purple, and all sorts of machines are connected to him.

After that first night, Dabi continues to sneak into the hospital every night to do what he calls a status report, and if he stays there a little longer than he needs, or occasionally totally randomly rests his hand on top of Hawks' hand, that's his own business.

With Dabi's luck, Hawks of course ends up waking up in one of these moments, and Dabi has never been that quick to exit a room in his life.

Hawks, of course, ends up being all right, and if he ever remember seeing Dabi there that night, he doesn't ever mention it.

Hawks when Dabi is injured: (dating, post war/Dabi still in healing)

From the start, Keigo is used to seeing Dabi in pain.

He guesses he should have gotten used to it by now, to some degree, but he never does, and frankly, he doesn't think that he ever will.

So, when he gets the message that Dabi is in the hospital after a traffic accident, his panic shoots trough the roof right away.

He's out the window and trough the air in record time, and arrives at the hospital looking like he was just trough a washer-dryer, panic is his eyes and hair and clothes messed up.

When someone tells him Dabi is in surgery, he nearly passes out.

It turns out, however, that Dabi is mostly okay, it's his leg that's got a complicated fracture they had to operate on, but that honestly doesn't do much to calm Hawks' nerves.

When Dabi is finally out of a long surgery and starts to wake up, Hawks is there.

When Dabi wakes up in the middle of the night and needs some painkillers, Hawks is somehow there.

Dabi is still getting used to have someone to care for him at all, and having the bird constantly hovering around him with big, worried puppy eyes, fretting like a madman, is kinda making him a little antsy, but he tries to appreciate it, he really does.

He is, however, just a little relived when the nurses sets their foots down on Hawks constantly being there and limits him to the normal visiting hours.

What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

[justhockeythings-blog1]

With You

A/N: So Two in one week huh? I wrote this a lot faster than I thought I would! Also I decided to make my own collage to go with this one! I really really like this one, so I hope you guys do! Feedback is always appreciated!

Request: “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” with Andrei Svechnikov

This was not the end to the season that anyone wanted. You felt your shoulders drop, along with your stomach. Your heart on the other hand had shattered into a million pieces, seeing Andrei’s heartbroken and frustrated face blasted across the television. You sat alone, in your shared apartment, wearing the same Svechnikov jersey that he had cheesily gifted you on your first birthday together. You made it a tradition to wear it every game you watched at home, making sure to send Andrei a picture. It had become as much a part of his pre-game ritual as having Martinook scream in his face. You hadn’t expected this game to be the last time you got to engage in your self made ritual,

You could feel the tears brimming your eyes, if not from the fact that you had so much hope for the boys to move on, for the sad faces of all your friends and your boyfriend as they shook hands with Tampa Bay. You waited until the very last second where the Canes players could no longer be seen before you shut off your TV, sitting in silence. You didn’t bother holding the tears in as you let a few slip, this was your time to be sad about it because the second that Andrei called you, you had to pull it together. You needed to be strong for him.

You knew your boyfriend well, you had seen him at the highs of the wins and the lows of the losses. He was going to take this personal, he had been battling himself all year. Saying how he hadn’t been having a good season, how he needed to improve, staying late after games to put in the extra time. You constantly had to remind him to take time for himself, to not be so hard on himself. There were countless times that you would have to force him to relax, letting his body rest, knowing that he would return to a hard training regime at the next practice. This wasn’t just any old loss though, this was a Stanley Cup elimination game loss. You were going to have to pull out all the stops to make this one feel better and you had a limited amount of time. You assumed that Andrei would be going back home at some point in the off season, neither of you had really talked about it recently. Then again, neither of you had planned on a playoff elimination.

You wiped the last few tears off your cheeks and stood up, collecting the snacks you had laid out, setting them in the kitchen before you went to change. After you came back out, you decided you needed to do something to pass the time until Andrei called, and you began busying yourself with cleaning. It was a habit that you had when you were nervous, you picked something to do and you fixated on it, usually until Andrei stepped in to stop you. It would be no different tonight, the shrill ring of your phone pulling you out of your trance. You glanced around you, seeing the kitchen of the apartment spotless before you rushed to the living room to snatch your phone off the coffee table where you left it.

“Hey.” You breathed out, hearing a slight chuckle from the other end.

“Were you running?” He asked, knowing that it was far too late for that. You, on the other hand, knew that he was avoiding the inevitable but you could hear the sadness in his voice.

“From the kitchen, didn’t want to miss your call.” You explained, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. This was the first sign that he wasn’t going to let on how upset he was in the moment, he had called you rather than facetime you. “How are you doing?”

You knew it was a stupid question but you had to ask. If you didn’t make the first move then odds were he wouldn’t bring it up and judging by the sigh that came from the other end, he was hoping that you wouldn’t.

“You gotta talk about it Andrei…” You encouraged gently, settling back on the couch and tugging a blanket over your legs. “Before you get on the plane.”

“It’s hard.” He began and you hummed, another gentle encouragement that you were listening. “We really thought we could do it. You know? We had them, we outplayed them every game and it wasn’t enough.”

The frustration was clear in his voice. You had seen the statistics and on paper, the Canes had come out on top, but unfortunately that didn’t translate to the ice.

“I wanted us to go all the way, these guys are my family and nobody deserves the cup more than them, and I couldn’t get them there.” You could hear the defeat in his voice and it was like someone took your heart and threw it on the ground.

“Andrei… You cannot put that pressure on yourself. Hockey is a team sport, you all left it all out there on the ice. You did you best and the weight of this loss does not fall entirely on your shoulders. Please.” You practically pleaded with him before you heard voices in the background.

“I have to go.. We are getting ready to board, I love you. I’ll be home late so don’t stay up okay?”

He hung up after you returned his goodbyes, leaving you once again sitting in the silence of your apartment. This time though, the exhaustion of everything set in and you pulled yourself to go to bed. You left a light on in the hallway so that Andrei didn’t have to stumble around in the darkness, slipping into your bed and quickly falling asleep.

~

When Andrei got home, well past three AM, he knew that the house would be quiet but it didn’t make it any less suffocating. It felt like silence was the only thing he had heard since the boys departed the locker room, each one caught up in their own heads. A few of the older guys, who had spent a good number of years in the league, did their best to offer some kind of comfort to the younger men on the team but it was clear that in the moment it was half hearted. Everyone had wanted to beat Tampa, everyone had wanted to make it to the end and hoist that cup. It was their year and they had done everything right only to lose to a team who had a goalie like a brick wall.

He set his bag down by the couch quietly, having mastered the technique of coming home quietly after waking you up one too many times. He carefully made his way down the hallway to the bedroom, smiling a little to himself as he saw you curled up in bed, tucked into one of his shirts. The season may not have ended the way he wanted but at least he still had you to come home to.

Slipping into the bed, he was careful not to wake you as he wrapped one arm around you and quickly fell asleep himself, his mind shutting off for the first time since this morning.

~

When you woke up the next morning it was to the weight of an arm carefully laying across your waist and the sound of gentle breathing beside you. A setting you were very familiar with, but today you couldn’t enjoy it. You had a plan that you needed to get started on before Andrei woke up, which is why you were secretly praying that the late return home would play in your favor.

You glanced back at him, smiling at the peaceful look on his face before you skillfully wiggled your way out of his grasp, pausing on the edge of your bed to make sure he remained asleep. After a few minutes you stood up and grabbed his bag, sneaking out of your room.

First things first was to get his laundry started so you made a beeline to the washer and dryer you guys had, setting the bag down and carefully emptying the clothes, checking all of his pockets to make sure they were empty. There had been a mishap one time of airpods in the washer and you both had quickly learned your lesson.

You felt a small box tucked into one of his pockets, pulling it out and setting it into a small basket with other things you found. You didn’t pay any mind to it as you started the washer, carrying the basket and setting it on the dining room table where he could collect it when he woke up.

Part two of your plan involved slight rearrangement of your living room, a number of blankets and pillows, and a fully charged laptop. After nearly twenty minutes, including a quick peak into the bedroom to make sure that he was indeed still sleeping, you had a blanket fort all made up and ready. Which was the easiest part of the plan, the real trick would be getting Andrei into it.

You moved back to the kitchen, pulling out all of the things you needed to make a real breakfast. Not the coffee and yogurt that you scarfed down on work days. You started the coffee pot, humming to yourself as you carefully dialed Evgeny’s number. It was times like these you were thankful that Andrei had introduced you to his brother and you two had a good standing relationship. You cut Evgeny’s greeting off gently, explaining that you didn’t have much time before Andrei woke up but you needed to know how to make his favorite breakfast.

At some point during your phone call with Evgeny, who thankfully walked you step by step through a homemade breakfast that he and Andrei had grown up on, Andrei made an appearance from the bedroom. He stood back and watched as you worked, hearing his brother’s voice over the speaker.

He smiled to himself, it was no secret to anyone that Evgeny was an important person in his life. When he had first introduced the two of you, he had been a little nervous that Evgeny and you wouldn’t get along. Which would have left him in a very awkward predicament. Seeing you in the kitchen though, clearly taking instructions from his brother over the phone, stirred something inside of him. Whatever he was feeling though quickly screeched to a halt, a small jolt of panic ran through him as he saw the small box on the table, quickly grabbing it and stuffing it into the pocket of his shorts just as you turned around.

“Oh hey! Evgeny, he’s up, I gotta go. Thank you so so so much for all your help! I owe you one!” You hung up with his brother and smiled sheepishly, holding up the plate with your finished work. “Surprise?”

You clearly hadn’t seen the glimpse of panic that crossed his face, quickly replaced by a smile and a look of awe when it registered in his mind what was on the plate. Sure you cooked often, but it now made sense to him why you had called his brother.

“If it’s bad you can blame your brother, but I just… I wanted to do something nice for you, especially since I didn’t stay up for you last night.” You explained, pulling him over to sit at the dining room table and setting the plate down in front of him.

Andrei was speechless, which you had learned was a hard feat to accomplish, as he watched you fill two mugs of coffee, making it the way both of you liked it before coming to sit down beside him. You hadn’t brought up the game yet and he wasn’t sure if you would but in the moment he didn’t care, he couldn’t stop staring at you.

“So is this really all it’s cracked up to be?” You asked, watching as he took the first bite. You had spent twenty minutes listening to his brother rave about it.

“Yes, I mean maybe not to other people but Evgeny and I ate it every weekend growing up. Is this why you called him?” He asked as he ate, reminiscing with every bite. His heart growing with love for you when you nodded behind your coffee mug sheepishly.

“I didn’t know how to make it but I remembered you mentioning it. I figured waking your brother up and dealing with his wrath would be worth it.” You teased, Evgeny had never been anything but nice to you and he probably appreciated this gesture as much as Andrei did.

“Also, I hope you didn’t have plans for the day or at least part of it. I wasn’t sure if you had to do something for the team or not.” You trailed off as he finished eating, grabbing the plate from him when he was done and carried it to the sink.

“I uh, I’m not sure. I think they’ll text me if I need to be there but I don’t think I need to today. Why?” He asked, though you didn’t answer him. You just grabbed his hand and pulled him to the living room, smiling as you looked at him.

He froze, seeing the elaborate blanket fort laid out in the living room, snacks and water already inside of it with your laptop. Part of him wondered if you had done thing last night and he had missed it in his tired state or if you had managed to do all of this, on top of breakfast, this morning. Before he could ask though you were tugging him to crawl into it, forcing him to drop to his knees to follow after you.

“What is all of this?” He asked after you settled in the pillow fort, laying on your back as you smiled up at him.

“This is me forcing you to relax and take a minute to yourself. I know last night did not go how you wanted, how any of you wanted, and maybe there’s nothing I can say right now that will make the thoughts in your head go away. Which I hate by the way, you’re way too hard on yourself but I just wanted you to take a day and not think about the game or about hockey or about what you could have done differently. I just, I know it’s not a lot but-”

Your rambling was cut off, as it so often was, by a quick kiss to your lips. You felt your shoulders drop as his hands cupped your cheeks, melting a little into the kiss before he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours.

“Thank you.”

It was a simple two words, but it was enough. It meant that he was accepting this, your plan to relax and just spend time together. Maybe it worked and maybe it didn’t, but all that mattered was he was willing to give it a chance.

~

The two of you spent most of the day in the fort watching movies, leaving only if you needed to use the bathroom or you needed more snacks. At some point the sun was beginning to sit lower in the sky and you both knew you would need to leave to make dinner, especially considering lunch had been nothing but snacks yet neither of you wanted to make that move.

You rolled onto your side, tucking your body even closer to his when you felt a bump against your thigh.

“That better just be your phone.” You teased and he looked at you confused before he realized that the small box that he had gotten well before the roadtrip was now pressed up against you. He sat up quickly, reaching into his pocket to pull it out, though you still couldn’t see it.

“Hey, I was just teasing.” You pouted, reaching for him as he chuckled and shifted to look at you. It was then you caught a glimpse of a familiar sized box and you found yourself sitting quickly to look at him.

“Andrei…” You began softly, it wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him but you two were both fairly young and had never discussed the prospect of marriage before.

“No! No, I mean. It’s not what you’re thinking, not yet.” He rushed to explain, his accent forcing the words to run together. It was something you had picked up, whenever he was angry or excited, his accent made it hard to differentiate what he was saying.

Instead of continuing his explanation, he opened the box to show you the very thin band, with three tiny diamonds in it. You could feel the breath leave your throat as you stared at it. It was beautiful, there was no doubt in your mind about that and it was your style. Simple, understated, something that you could wear with anything and it would never look out of place.

“So if not… that, then what is this?” You asked confused, looking up at him again with nervous eyes.

“It’s a promise and you don’t have to think of it as anything more than that. No other strings okay? I just. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know we haven’t talked about it before, but I wanted to make you the promise that one day, it’ll be a different ring and I had hoped to do it after a winning game, but this… I think this is much better.” He explained quietly, keeping his eyes on the ring, watching as you carefully pulled it out of the box.

This was not at all how he had planned on doing this, in his mind it was much smoother. It was after a winning game, probably not in your living room, and he also wouldn’t be stumbling over his words and half tempted to switch back to Russian. Despite all that though, he didn’t want to wait any longer and there was no taking it back now that it was out there.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you too.” You smiled, carefully slipping it on your right ring finger for now and smiling up at him. “ Don’t want to give people too many ideas now do we?”

You heard him chuckle before leaning down to kiss you again. The game may not have gone how you two wanted, the season may have ended early, but one thing was certain for the both of you.

You had each other, now and for the rest of your lives.

[retrievablememories]

stuck with you | yoongi

title: stuck with you pairing: yoongi x reader, taehyung and jimin as side characters genre: fluff request: “Can you do a idol!Min Yoongi of BTS request of his crush being best friends with Jimin and Taehyung and him and his crush consistently fluster the other but they never realize until one day he does and finally make as move despite everyone telling them for weeks that they like each other?” word count: 3.3k warnings: some cursing, mentions of the pandemic a/n: i’ve been actively avoiding writing anything concerning the pandemic/lockdown cuz let’s be real, we’re all here to have fun, not think about real-life shit...but i decided to try it here

i wasn’t sure how to write their living arrangements tho since most of them seem to have their own places? so i just used the hannam the hill house for reference ���

“How have things been for you guys lately?”

Taehyung and Jimin exchange skeptical looks with each other, which you don’t catch because you’re too busy picking over your food.

“We’ve all been stuck in the same damn place for weeks now, so you tell me.” Taehyung chuckles, shaking his head. 

You visiting their house right before the stay-at-home mandate was issued ended up with the three of you—plus Yoongi, to your luck—being cooped up in the same house for almost two weeks now. It wasn’t wholly a bad thing, since you got to be with your two best friends, but living with three men was pretty much as messy as you’d expected it to be. “Wow. Never thought we’d run out of things to talk about.”

Jimin tries to humor you. “Things have been fine, you know...same as always. Except for Yoongi-hyung acting like a lovesick weirdo. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you…?” Jimin feigns an innocent look.

You look up from your plate. “A lovesick weirdo for who?”

“We’ve been through this like 20 times already, Y/N,” Jimin sighs.

“Yes, and every time I tell you you must have the wrong person because that makes no sense whatsoever.”

“He’s lovesick over you,” Taehyung reiterates, like you didn’t catch the gist the first time around.

“I don’t think Yoongi likes me.” You shake your head and make a face at the notion of it, trying to disguise your irritation at them constantly trying to provoke your emotions.

“Why not? There’s a lot to like about you, don’t downgrade yourself.” Jimin insists.

“He doesn’t even act like he does. If anything, he gets all odd around me.”

“That’s just how he is,” Taehyung says, leaning back in his chair. “You’d think you’d start to catch onto this after being here for so long, but…”

“No, she’s too busy being too embarrassed and intimidated to even get within 4 meters of him.” Jimin and Taehyung both giggle at that, and you shake your head.

“You guys are like little schoolkids. How many more big tales are you going to think up before our quarantine lifts? You could probably write a book by the end.”

Taehyung shrugs, putting his arms behind his head. “I might do that, as long as you let me make you and hyung the star-crossed lovers who are too dumb to tell each other how they feel.” He stretches his leg under the table to nudge your shin with his toes, knowing how you hate when he puts his bare feet on you, and he cackles when you protest loudly.

���Will you stop trying to get my hopes up for nothing—?” 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Yoongi steps out onto the terrace with the three of you a few minutes later. He shields his eyes against the sun’s sudden brightness after he slides open the glass door, holding his other arm up.

“Look who’s appeared!” Jimin says excitedly, his eyes glittering with enthusiasm.

“You’re loud,” Yoongi grumbles, though he’s mostly speaking to Taehyung and Jimin. “I can hear you laughing from downstairs.” Your body tenses up and melts all at the same time, and suddenly you feel like you don’t know how to do anything right—like hold your chopsticks correctly. They shoot out of your hand when you try to use them again and hit the patio floor. You look at them forlornly.

“You good?” Yoongi asks, a smile fluttering across his lips at your clumsy actions.

“Uh, yeah I’m fine.” You can only glance back at him, embarrassed that you’ve made yourself look like a clown. Jimin laughs like he’s just witnessed the funniest thing on Earth. You shake your head and push away from the table, wanting—no, needing—a quick exit. “I’ll just find some more of those…”

Jimin shakes himself free of his sudden bout of laughter and jumps at the opportunity. “Wait, I’ll get them for you.” He bolts up from the chair before you can even think about it and goes back into the house, already planning to take his sweet time on his mission to get you new chopsticks. Taehyung picks up the hint almost instantly.

Yoongi turns back to the doorway after Jimin disappears through it, his movements a few beats too late—as if he’s just now realizing the other man left. “What was that about—”

“Oh shit!” Taehyung’s exclamation cuts into Yoongi’s question. In a sweeping motion, Taehyung “accidentally” elbows your water off the table, sending the bottle splashing out onto the patio in sad little streams. You jerk away from the splash, but the water droplets have already gotten you.

“What the hell?!”

Taehyung shrugs like it was inevitable and gives a sheepish smile. There’s an undeniable scheme lingering in his eyes, though. “Looks like I’ll have to get you another one.” He stands up to get your aforementioned water, though you begin to form the idea that you’re not getting any water at all.

You sigh and rub your fingers across your forehead. The heat of the sun has turned from pleasant to uncomfortable, and you don’t even have your water to take the edge off. Great.

Yoongi turns back to you, his eyebrows creased. “That was weird.”

“They’re just trying to…” Force us together? You’re too embarrassed to say anything like that, and your words trail off in a stammer. Why did they ever think this would be a good idea? Yoongi raises his eyebrows in curiosity at your bitten-off answer. “An-anyway, that doesn’t matter. So...what are you doing out here?”

Yoongi shrugs, smirking slightly. “Well, I do live here.”

You snort to cover the way your stomach cuts a flip at his smirk, and you reach for your food in a nervous gesture before you remember your chopsticks are still gone. “You sorta seem like a vampire, though. I’m surprised you came out to get some sun.”

Yoongi mulls over that thought. “Hmm…a vampire, huh?” He runs a hand through his pitch-black hair, and even though the gesture is just an afterthought, it makes your heart skip a beat. You almost want to roll your eyes at your reaction to that simple movement. “Don’t tell me you were one of those obsessive Twilight fans over a decade ago.”

“And if I was?”

“Would you enjoy being bitten by a vampire?” Yoongi regrets it as soon as he says it, and you ducking your head into your hands doesn’t help the flaming embarrassment. “Fuck, that was stupid—sorry.” Your shoulders are shaking with laughter, and even though it’d be cute in another context, he feels like he’s about to combust. So he decides to make a run for it. Maybe a cowardly move on his part, but it seems like the best one right now.

“Hyung, you can’t be serious—” Jimin calls out to Yoongi as the older man brushes past once he gets back indoors, but the other man tries his best to ignore Jimin as a blush crawls up his neck. “Go back and tell her. It was the perfect moment!”

“There’s gonna be a lot more of that mess until we can leave,” Taehyung says, peering through the glass at your now confused expression and shaking his head. “God, one of them needs to say something before I lose my mind.”

--

Like Taehyung predicted, there’s a lot more of “that mess” over the next week. You and Yoongi continue to tip-toe around each other, unsure of how to appropriately handle each other and never unable to shake the awkwardness that colors every interaction.

The most notable incident of all, however, occurs when Yoongi does his laundry one day and somehow finds a pair of your underwear mixed in with his clothes after taking them out of the dryer. How the hell did they even get there, and how did he not notice them before?

Bound to his usual fierce overthinking, he stands there for a few long moments, wondering what he should do. Obviously, the only answer would be to return them to you. But then what if you think that’s weird, him somehow having your underwear? Or what if you assume he’s some pervert who’d taken your panties on purpose?

And to his great luck, that’s precisely when you walk into the laundry room. You give him a timid smile and greeting, which melts away into pure embarrassment when you see him standing there as if he’d just been framed for murder—and your deep red panties sitting in his laundry pile.

Yoongi’s gaze darts between the laundry and your eyes, his jaw working aimlessly as he tries to come up with something that makes sense.

He decides on “I didn’t know they were there,” though this feels just as inadequate as it sounds.

“M-maybe I threw them in the wrong bin,” you rush out, and in the same breath you cross the room to practically snatch them out of the pile of his clothes. You know you couldn’t have done it, though, which leads your mind back to those two sneaky men who’ve been trying to exercise their terrible matchmaking skills as of late.

“A-ah, yeah—maybe,” Yoongi agrees half-heartedly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You both pause for what feels like an eternity, for a reason you can’t decipher, and you think you might burst from the sheer discomfort of it all. “Well—th-thanks. One less thing to wash, I guess.” You try to laugh, but the sound comes out high and forced. Similarly, Yoongi’s answering smile is tight around the corners.

The next few days after that, you are both unable to maintain any kind of eye contact. Taehyung and Jimin are endlessly amused by the way you and the older man dance around each other like two ghosts struggling to inhabit the same space.

You make up for it slightly by turning all of Jimin’s white shirts into a splotchy pink once you find out that this was indeed his terrible and silly idea.

--

You’ve been sleeping in Jimin’s and Taehyung’s beds since you’ve been barricaded in their home with them, which none of you really think twice about. You’ve been friends with them for years and don’t see either of them other than platonically, so it’s not awkward for you or them. Although it was originally intended for you to mostly stay in Jimin’s bed, you end up alternating between the two, climbing into whoever’s bed you feel like that particular night. Neither of them mind the switch-up, and Taehyung likes using you as his personal pillow, so it all works out.

If there was anyone who minded at all, it was Yoongi. It wasn’t a burning jealousy, because he knew he had no right to feel like that about you—not when he couldn’t even admit to you that he liked you. But it didn’t make him want to jump for joy to know you were in either of the younger men’s beds, even just as friends.

He spent many nights imagining you were beside him instead, warming the empty spaces of his bed, whispering to him and telling him about your day. It didn’t matter if he already knew everything you did that day because you’d all been living in the same space for weeks. He still wanted to know. 

But until either of you made a move, he didn’t know when that would happen. If ever.

He didn’t even know if you’d be interested, or if you saw him the way he saw you. You were never as close to him as you’d been with the other two men, and although that could be explained by you being best friends with them for years, he honestly chalked it up to you not liking him as much. Taehyung and Jimin had tried to tell him the exact opposite several times before, but he wasn’t really convinced. Not with the way you seemed to lock up around him—like if you said or did the wrong thing, he’d hate you forever.

If only you knew he could never feel that way about you.

--

You decide to sneak your way to the kitchen for a late-night snack one night, your socked feet scuffing quietly on the floor as you make your way to the kitchen. However, your plan is derailed when you run into Yoongi in the hallway, who has apparently just taken a shower. He’s fully clothed—thank God, because you’re not sure how you would’ve survived it otherwise—but the towel on his wet hair speaks to his recent shower. Your immediate response is to jump in surprise, feeling like you’ve been caught red-handed; although there’s no law stopping you from getting something to eat in the middle of the night.

“Oh—Yoongi.”

“You’re still up?” he asks, pulling the towel away from his face so he can see you better.

“Uh, yeah...I was just getting something to eat, I guess.”

“No crime in that. You’re tip-toeing around like you’re nervous about it, though.”

“I didn’t want to wake anyone up.” You shrug your shoulders, trying to appear more nonchalant than you really feel. “But I see you’re already up…” Your words trail off behind you as you walk into the kitchen. Yoongi watches your retreating back before making the split-second decision to follow you. He’s not really sure why, previously intending to go back to his own room. 

“Were you getting something to eat too?” you ask, turning back to glance at him when you hear his footsteps behind you. You’re admittedly happy at the idea of spending a little more time alone with Yoongi, though you’re still nervous as hell.

It’s probably not the best idea to say I just came because I wanted to be next to you, so he nods to your question. "Uh, sure, I guess. What were you gonna get?”

“I don’t really know, just whatever’s in here…” You open the fridge and stare into it absentmindedly, your eyes raking over the food but not really seeing it—not with Yoongi’s presence hovering behind you.

Eventually you settle on some leftover rice and kimchi—which there’s always plenty of—not wanting to expend too much energy on cooking anything new.

You and Yoongi sit at the table together, using the light of your phone’s flashlight and the under-cabinet lights to illuminate the room instead of the overhead. Maybe it’s a little strange, but you like the ambiance of it more than having the harsh overhead light on.

The room is quiet for a while as you both eat, which you don’t initially mind. But you can’t ignore how Yoongi keeps stealing glances at you, like you aren’t going to notice, like he isn’t sitting right in front of you where you can see. It makes you antsy, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“Is something up?” you finally ask, keeping your eyes on your half-empty bowls, too nervous to look straight at him.

He hums like he’s thinking intently about it. Then he decides to rip the band-aid off and says, “You’re always tense around me.”

“Oh.”

He chuckles at your short response. “Why?”

You feel like you’ve been backed into a corner, and you hesitate. “Well, you’re always weird around me. Why is that?”

“Touché.” Another tense pause where he thinks of what to say, and then, “Jimin and Taehyung swear you like me.”

You try not to react so obviously, but your spoon clatters against the side of the bowl. If he’s acting weird because of the idea of you liking him, how can it be possible that he returns the feelings? Maybe he doesn’t know how to let you down easily. You suddenly feel ridiculous, like you’ve been wasting your emotions on nothing. “...I see.”

“I thought they were...trying to play some game. But, since you’re here now...is it true?”

Maybe if you close your eyes hard enough, you can poof yourself out of existence. If you felt trapped before, you really are now. You blurt out the first thing you can think of, trying to save yourself.

“Before you think I’m stupid for liking you, you should know they’ve been saying the same thing to me about you. So. Yeah.”

Yoongi looks at you full-on. “They told you I like you?” A nervous grin fixes itself on his lips, which makes you second-guess yourself. At this point, your head and heart are tangled in a knot. Why does your love life have to be this difficult? “So that’s it, then.”

“What is?”

“We like each other.” That makes your heart rate pick up. “...and didn’t even figure it out until just now, despite everyone else’s ‘help’.”

You take a shaky breath. “You like me.”

Yoongi nods, glancing between his hands on the table and your face. “I should’ve said it sooner.”

Despite yourself, you feel the corners of your mouth twitch into a slight smile—one that’s colored with relief and a tinge of lingering nervousness. “Later is better than never, I guess.” You find yourself laughing from the way all your stress slowly unwinds itself from your body, and Yoongi joins you, his eyes sparkling in the dark.

“So. This means we’re dating now, right?”

“I hope this isn’t considered our first date.” You snort, looking around the kitchen.

Yoongi shakes his head, placing his cheek in his hand with a sleepy smile. “I promise I’ll take you somewhere nice...after the pandemic is over.”

“We might be waiting a while, then.” Finished with your food, you go to quickly wash the dishes in the sink, and Yoongi slides in next to you to do the same. Another silence falls over the two of you, but for the first time, it’s not uncomfortable or pulled taut with words unsaid.

When you finish, Yoongi leans against the counter, his eyes openly tracing over you, wearing just a big T-shirt and shorts. It’s a simple outfit, but it warms his heart.

“Come sleep with me,” he says suddenly. You crack an awkward smile at that, and he’s blushing before the last syllable even leaves his lips, because he understands how that sounds. “I mean, actually sleep. It’s late.”

You pretend to hesitate on it. “I don’t know, Taehyung might miss me…”

“Taehyung and Jimin have had you all to themselves the past few weeks. It’s my turn now.”

And with that, you let him take your hand and guide you back to his room, maneuvering carefully through the dark house. His bed is new to you, but it’s instantly comfortable—like home. The smell of him surrounds you, as does his arms when he pulls you closer. You smile against the fabric of his shirt as you tuck your face into his chest, his chin on top of your head.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, his fingers curling around your shoulder. His voice is soft and low, already halfway to sleep.

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

[tsumuki]

haikyuu boys as different types of love languages

a/n basically the boys i think most embody the 5 basic love languages; super random but

physical touch as sugawara koushi

constantly touching you in some way whether it be patting your head, holding you hand, rubbing your back

greets you with a hug and kiss every morning and every night when he drops you off

also guides you by having his hand on the small of your back in the hallways, so it’s not as obvious as holding hands

but in private he’s all over you, laying on top of while you have your arms and legs wrapped around him, when you’re cooking he’s hugging you from behind, or when you’re working he’ll take your hand and use the excuse “i can type with one hand”

“koushi i cant breathe” you say as he lays on top of you, in attempt to cuddle you.

“it’s okay you can die like this” he says as he nuzzles further into your neck. you hit his back lightly, letting out an airy laugh. his warmth spreads through your body and you inhale his scent.

he gets up and looks at you as he flips you over, so now your laying on his chest and straddling his waist. “better now?” he says with a cheeky grin.

you feel your cheeks heat up as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face closer, teasing him as your lips brush against each other.

“so that’s how you wanna play?” he questions as he quirks his brow, he moves his hands lower to your waist pulling you even closer.

“two can play at this game babe.”

words of affirmation as oikawa tooru

oikawa is no stranger to self doubt and insecurities, but since he knows what it feels like, he never wants you to feel that way

tells you everyday that he loves you, even if you guys are fighting, he will make an effort to send at least a text, reminding you that he loves you

reminds you every morning how beautiful you look, definitely a great hype man.

knows that his fan girls can be a lot sometimes, so he puts in extra effort to reassure you he only has eyes for you

you felt pathetic, crying on your boyfriends bedroom floor pouring out your insecurities. his fan girls were so beautiful, thin, and what were you?

his heart aches as he wraps his arms around you, cooing in your ear. if he could take the pain away he would, but he can’t. so he speaks up instead,

“baby, you know what i love about you?” he waits for a reply, continuing when he’s met with silence,

“i love when your eyes light up when you talk, or how you look when the moon lights your face when we walk at night.”

he hears your cries start to soften, his heart warming as he continues.

“i also love how your cheeks lift when you smile, or how your hair flows when you let it down” he kisses your head,

“baby i could go on, but we’d never stop. i know how you’re feeling, but if you remember anything i tell you tonight, remember, you’re my world. if only you could see yourself from my eyes, you’d love yourself beyond compare. and i’ll always be here to remind you of what you’re worth”

he kisses the top of your head and lifts your head up so you meet eyes, “okay?”

“okay.”

quality time as kenma kozume

introverted bby so he prefers staying in with you, usually orders food and listens to you ramble about your day or whatever else is on your mind

isn’t the most talkative, but a great listener. when you’ve run out of things to talk about you two just enjoy each other’s presence while doing your own thing

always makes an effort to walk you home after school so you can spend more time together

will sometimes show up to your house unannounced and lays on your bed while you do homework or talk to your friends

you don’t have to be talking to each other, but he’s comforted knowing you’re around

“hey babe” you say as you enter his room, he greets you back as you make your way to his bed. he lifts up his arms allowing you to rest your head on his lap.

“how was your day” he says, eyes still glued to his monitor. you rub his thigh and start your ramble about today’s stories, but then you stop. worry creeping in about talking to much and potentially annoying him since he was gaming.

“why’d you stop, i’m still listening babe”

although it’s small, you can’t help but feel your heart swell knowing you’re not a bother to him, even with your constant rambling.

not long after you two fall into a comfortable silence and you get up and pull out your work from your bag and mindlessly start. you notice kenma starting to dose off, soon he’s the one who rests his head on your lap.

you sigh contently as you bring your hand to his hair and play with the ends, he hums when he feels your touch. you smile as you push your work the the side and you close your eyes as well, dosing off as well.

you can always finish your work later, you think to yourself as you slip into unconsciousness, your hand still playing with kenma’s hair.

acts of service as iwaizumi hajime

isn’t the best with words so decides to let his actions do the talking

does small things like walking you to class even if his class is the other way or walk you home even if he’s tired from practice

i also believe he’s a great cook, so he prepares lunches and snacks for you while he’s making his

also when your sick he’ll pick up your work from your classes, prepare some food for you, and will care for you while you’re sick

or when you’re stressed w school or work he’ll tidy up your room / house so you come home to a clean space so you’re able to relax. overall motherly af

everything was falling apart. no matter how much you tried to balance out your school, work, social life, and clubs it never worked out, something was always overlooked and missed.

you received many texts and reminders from iwaizumi to not over work yourself. although you knew you should’ve told him, you hid it from him, not wanting him to worry. he has been working so hard with his work, that you don’t want to add any stress. so you put on a smile.

you groan as you clock out of work, making your way back to you and iwaizumi’s apartment. once you get home you’re met with a delicious aroma. you’re confused, to your knowledge iwaizumi had been working late tonight.

you make your way into the apartment to be met with iwa’s back to you, as he cooks something on stove. you scan the apartment to see your books and papers organized and everything that littered the floors and tables, put away and tidied.

you exhale contently, your heart swelling at the sight as he turns around and pulls you into his arms rubbing your back. the simple act makes your eyes water.

“i know how stressed you’ve been. you don’t have to hide it” is all he says, and your few tears turn into sobs. he stays silent as he continues rubbing your back trying to sooth you, letting you know he’s here. once your tears dry he kisses your temple.

“i have a bath running for you babe, wash up and we’ll eat when you’re done” he says as he kisses you again, “and i’ll bring your clothes, they’re in the dryer”

you feel your eyes water again, not because of stress or sadness, but because you can’t contain how much you truly love him. you smile and nod, pulling him to hug him again.

“thank you so much.”

gift giving as akaashi keiji

mans is a sucker for cheesy romantic stuff

brings you a bouquet every time you guys have a date, isn’t necessarily the biggest bouquet but makes an effort to bring you one every time

goes ham when it’s your birthday, christmas, valentines, etc. holiday? you better prepare to be bombarded with gifts.

also loves taking you shopping. you always tell him he doesn’t have to buy you anything but insists. and when you see something you like but decide against getting it, he’ll buy it for you the next day

even small things like when he’s walking home and he sees a stuffed bear, he’ll buy it for you saying “it reminded him of you and he absolutely had to get it” or picking up your favorite snack and bringing it to you at much

you always tell him he doesn’t have to get you anything to be happy but he insists, that doesn’t mean you don’t shower him in gifts as well

you’re rushing through your apartment as you’re putting the final touches on your outfit for you and akaashi’s date. you jump when you hear the doorbell.

you swing the door open to be met with a face full of flowers. you blush at the sight, no matter how many times you’ve received flowers from him, you’re still flustered. you gesture him to come in, taking the flowers from his hands, thanking him.

“hey babe you look great” he says as he kisses you on the cheek. you smile back as you put the flowers into the vase with the preexisting flowers.

“you know i’m gonna drown in flowers one day if you keep getting me them babe” you say in a joking tone, he chuckles with you, “at least you’ll die a beautiful death” he retorts, laughing as you lightly hit his shoulder

he smiles as he takes both your hands, looking you up and down, “beautiful absolutely beautiful” he says, voice full of admiration. your heart swells at his simple words. “only for you” you say with a smile resting softly on your face.

“you know what would make it better though?” he asks, you shoot him a confused look and he reaches in his pocket pulling out a small velvet box.

your eyes widen and heart drops as he reveals a simple ring. he laughs at your obviously shocked expression, “hey it’s just a promise ring,” he starts, worry slightly seeping from his words, “don’t worry, this is just as a reminder, that i’ll love you forever” he finishes as he slips the ring onto your finger

you feel your eyes slightly water at his words, feeling overwhelmed with your emotions. cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.

“so promise you want drown in my flowers before i make it a real one” he says with a cheeky grin

“promise.”

[ironmandeficiency]

that’s not a shirt

pairing: marcus pike / reader

word count: 1584

summary: marcus comes home from work & finds the strangest thing in the laundry.

a/n: for @autumnleaves1991-blog and her wednesday writing challenge! writing domestic marcus pike is my therapy. unbeta’d and posted from mobile (honestly my laptop is becoming less convenient to post from even tho posting fic on tumblr is literally the reason i bought it last year)

three long, miserable weeks. that’s how long marcus has been out of town for a case that had him jetting all across the country, far away from you and your comfortable bed. he’s almost never at the apartment he pays rent for every month. most of his clothes and his favorite pillow are at your place, and the small quilt his grandmother sewed decades ago is draped over the back of your couch. in everything but name, he lived with you.

when he entered your apartment with his key, he took note of the fact you weren’t there and got set to cleaning up a bit. work leaves you exhausted more often than not and he doesn’t want to leave everything undone for you to worry about when you get home.

upon first glance, he could see the laundry was half done. a heaping load of clean clothes was in the hamper in front of the dryer and there were wet clothes in the open washer. when he looked further, there was also a load in the dryer, which told him that you stayed up late to get things done then fell asleep on the couch waiting for the dryer to finish. with a fond smile, he started the dryer for a few minutes to get wrinkles out of what’s in there. when those are done, he can get what’s in the hamper unwrinkled and hung and folded.

dinner was next on the to-do list. something nourishing to welcome you home after a long day but simple enough to do while catching up the clothes: spaghetti. there’s something about his mom’s recipe for the sauce that makes his spaghetti absolutely heavenly — your words, not his — and he can’t wait to see your reaction to having marcus home two days earlier than planned along with his best dish.

in the time it takes him to get the sauce cooking and the water boiling on the stove, the dryer announces that it’s finished with the first load. he hums as he folds the bath towels and dish rags without a care in the world, making the trip to stow them in the bathroom cabinet with a spring to his step.

checks the sauce for flavor and consistency before putting the second load of wrinkled clothes in the dryer, finding it needs just a smidge more rosemary before it can be left to simmer. picks another sprig from the plant you keep on the windowsill and cuts the leaves very fine before sprinkling them in with a flick of his wrist.

satisfied with his efforts, he turns back to the laundry. he dutifully empties the lint filter (you’re adamant on emptying it after every load and the trait passed onto him) before he begins to grab things to toss into the dryer. about a third of the way through the basket, his hand grabbed onto something weirdly solid and plump.

“mroww!”

last marcus checked, shirts don’t make noises like that. he tore his gaze from the inside of the dryer to the hamper to find a grey and white kitten lounging in the hamper. the little thing was nudging his hand with their head, clearly wanting the attention of the man slowly depleting its bed. he was perplexed. you didn’t have a cat when he was last here, but there was one seeming to be perfectly content in making itself at home in your apartment.

“where did you come from?” he knew the cat wasn’t going to give him a coherent answer but he felt the need to voice his confusion anyway. the first thing to do now: check to see if it’s male or female. it’s a female, looks to be about three months old and is perfectly content with being handled by marcus.

marcus can’t recall the last time he had a pet. with him being too busy with work, he never thought it would be fair to a pet to have an owner constantly gone. he didn’t have enough stability in the past with where he lived and didn’t want to only be a half ass pet parent. the past several months, however, have been nothing but stable. not counting the seldom out of town cases, he goes to work in the morning and comes home to you in the evening, and he rinses and repeats as needed. maybe this kitten is the perfect prelude to taking the next big step in his relationship with you.

for now though, marcus doesn’t let himself get carried away with his daydreams about living with you full time. he’s got laundry to finish and dinner to cook, and now he has a sous chef to accompany him. he holds the kitten to his chest, scratching her chin with a hooked finger and melting at the way she looks up as if telling him to keep going. “alright sweet girl, let’s finish up dinner.” a soft “mrrow!” is her reply and it makes marcus huff a quiet laugh.

dinner is completed with marcus using one less hand than normal, his sous chef being fabulous company. the few times he had to use both hands, his feline friend perched on his shoulder (which he thought was the best thing ever) and waited to be held again. however this cat got here, marcus didn’t know; the one thing he did know is that it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

the front door was unlocked when you came home and you knew with absolute certainty that you locked it before you left. your walmart bags filled with cat supplies were immediately dropped to the hallway floor as you began to inspect your front door and the area around it. marcus taught you how to spot the basic signs of forced entry (like the protective sweetheart he is) and when none of them were there, you cautiously entered your apartment, mace in hand.

the adrenaline washed away when you spotted your loving boyfriend in the kitchen, gently bobbing his head along to whatever music he had playing. one hand was stirring a pot on the stove while the other was plenty preoccupied with the kitten. shit, you forgot to warn him about the kitten before he got home!

this was the last thing you thought would be here to greet you, but it was a very welcome sight; the feline was finicky and marcus wasn’t due home for another few days, a double whammy. “i see you’ve met the kitten.” you’re honestly just thankful he didn’t get upset about the little thing. neither of you have talked about pets or whatever your living situation is becoming, so the way he seems so taken with the kitten is a sign pointing in a great direction.

when he hears your voice, marcus visibly lights up. “hi honey!” the hand with the spoon immediately drops the wooden utensil into the pot and waves at you happily. “this is my sous chef, say hello, pasta!” he grabs one of her little paws and waves it at you before resuming his stirring, a beaming smile on his face.

did he really just name the cat pasta? and how in the world is she so calm with him right now?

you found the kitten, now known as pasta, huddled in a cardboard box beside a gas station dumpster headed home from work. she was mewling her little head off back there and you were lucky enough to hear her. taking her and her box, your list of things to do was thrown out the window as you rushed her to the vet. they cleaned her up real good and schedule her vaccinations, and sent you home with a list of supplies to buy and advice on how to take care of the little thing.

she was pissed at you after the vet trip. didn’t let you pet or hold her unless she was in the mood for it and if you tried to pick her up otherwise, she would scatter and give you a glare from a safe distance away. but here was marcus holding her like a baby, and the little brat was eating it up! to be fair, you were the same way with marcus when he was being affectionate so you didn’t completely blame her.

“why pasta?” you knew that cats were more likely than dogs to have strange names. you just didn’t think your boyfriend would be the type to give a cat a name like pasta. at that rate, you might as well name a dog goose and call it a day.

he smiles at the furball, giving her a few affectionate pets while he talks. “i was cooking spaghetti when i found her in the laundry hamper, and then i noticed a little spot right on her hip that looks like penne. i couldn’t choose between the two so i went for the middle ground. is that okay with you? or did she have another-”

“marcus, i love it.” and you really do; that sentimental dork just made you love the name pasta with nothing but two sentences. “and honestly, i’ve just been rotating between baby girl, squeak toy, and dumbass since i found her the day before yesterday.”

he scratches pasta under her chin as he laughs at the thought of you calling his sous chef a dumbass. “pasta is not a dumbass! you tell ‘em sweetheart, tell them how smart you are!”

“mroww!”

“see? she’ll be the next einstein.”

marcus pike taglist: @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @themarcusmoreno @catsnkooks @torradoza @stardustsunrisekisses @darthadeline @max--phillips @jedi-mando @darklingveracruz @andysficrecs @pedropasscals @qhbr2013 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @greeneyedblondie44 @princess76179 @kaermorons @lv7867 @whovianwar @purelypascal